#like no I just want a woman who has flaws and is able to be written like any male character has the privilege to be oh my god

[buggyswritingcorner]

OMG just found you through your NSFW-alphabet for Aemond, could you please please do one for his brother as well?

heyy... heyyy.. uh i know this is.. two years.. late, im sorryyyy, i had sooo much stuff happen to me tho and i feel like now im finally ready to start writing again! thank you for this request! check out my

MASTERLIST

NSFW Aegon Targaryen

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Yees girl go give us ⋆✩nothing⋆✩, hahahah no it really depends on what your relationship with him is, i can't see him being overly loving and patient with someone who's a fleeting moment in his life, if he is in love with you tho (whether or not he realises it) he will do his utmost best to shower you with love, even after a hate fuck this puppy couldn't possibly with good consience let you go without a bit of love

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

he's quite insecure (shocking) so at first he had basically nothing, no part of him was entirely without flaw and he hated it, being with you and seeing how you look at him changed his mind and now he finds his shoulders and torso quite attractive (especially with your feet over his shoulders)

what he likes most on you differs every day, one day it's your eyes, the next your ass, he loves and longs for all of you

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

this dirty bitch, anywhere... anywhere

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

he definitely caught alicent and crispin doing it at least once.. did he enjoy it? debatable

he has many secrets, most of them dirty.. so yeah, he's probably even seen you naked many times before you courted officially, he has his ways..

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

he's always been very well versed in the art of sex, he fears nothing and is up to experiencing everything, so good luck with suprinsing him with something new.. if you do though, well just be prepared to not leave your room for some time, he loves new experiences

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

you on top, no arguments, on part because he's a little lazy, but also because he can see all of you that way, every curve, every sweet drip he'd like to lick up

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

he's a gooof, a silly boyy, cannot stay serious for the life of him bless this poor man he tried once and you laughed at him because he looked constipated, if you really want him serious tho.. that takes a lot of teasing the entire day, then at night he takes what he was promised in those foxy smirks flashed his wayy all day

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

no grooming, unless you ask for it, like really plead for it, i think he just also forgets and obviously on you he doesn't mind any hair, on the contrary i think it makes him more turned on because it feels 'animalistic' and raw

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

he can be romantic, he definitely uses his puppy eyes to his advantage and makes you take care of him haha

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he knows he looks good and won't hesitate to show you too, so you walking into your shared chambers while he's lost in himself is quite common, and then he just flashes you a coy smirk and get louder the longer you ignore him

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

i fear... i may have to say this man has a mommy kink, or just a woman kink in general lol, he definitely searches for validation where he didn't recieve it, so you being able to praise him and make him feel loved is a biig YES

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Unlike his clean brother, this man is dirty as fuck and is down to do it just about anywhere. Is a never ending list really. He looks forward to taking you into the darkest alleyways of King´s Landing or underneath the stone table in the Sept of Baelor.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

once again, just you, there is nothing more ravishing than you in a pretty dress or tunic and a pair of pants, the lower the cut of the hem the better, he loves when you swoosh your hair around him, likes the wilder side of you more than the proper side

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

... i really tried to come up with something but i dunno, i feel like hes down for anything??

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

a master in giving, terrible at recieving, he wriggles and whines and tugs on your hair, wear a whole set of armor if you dont want scratch marks everywhere!! also be carefull this one bites

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

he's sloppy mostly, but at times when he sobers up in a moment of clarity he can rock your fuckin world, you'll be climbing the walls im tellin you

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

yes,yes,yes - aegon on quickies, he loves it, anywhere anytime, he'll srsly take you in an alleyway if you let him, so be carefull

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

once again i feel like he'd risk anything for that rush of adrenaline that he just longs for, he feels so bored and dead all the time that he wants to experience it all with you

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

if he's drinking? barely one, may even fall asleep on you. if he's sober? get ready for a ride till the sunrise, he takes his time and just kissing him may feel like only minutes passed when in reality you've been there for hours

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

i mean, you saw the damn dildo, thats all imma say, he a freak

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

oh he's such a little tease, but not in the way most would expect, he's not a very dominant boy, so he'll more likely tease you to make you jealous or to make you look at his neck and chest when his tunic get mysteriously untied in the wind

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

looud, get your chambers soundproofed please, for the sake of the children, he's grunting, moaning, whining, cursing and all in between, the more orgasms you give him the higher his voice goes in octaves, its a fun game to see how high the bird will sing

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

i think he likes getting spanked, something makes me believe he'd be begging for that sharp sting, be it his face, cock or ass, he'll take anything you'll give

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

average sized, pretty boy cock what can i say, curved with a very pink flush

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

he's a whore, but a whore with feelings, he's down to do it most of the time but sometimes you'll have to console the poor boy because he feels like he's too demanding, just make sure you kiss him and he's forgetting all about those pesky insecurities

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

after you're done, he's not even letting you get up to use the restroom, he grabs you and just won't let go until he's sound asleep, you make him feel safe and loved

Hope you enjoyed!!

masterlist

[trans-leek-cookie]

Thinking about geto because I want to pour milk on him and throw him against the wall. Imo his beliefs are inconsistent and self serving (which makes sense because he developed said beliefs at age 16/17 while his mental health was at an all time low). Because while he seems to have the primary motive of "only sorcerers = no curses" taking into account how he treats Maki, who has no cursed energy, it shows that the "no curses" thing isnt the main focus- bc while he decided on tbe "forced evolution" thing, theoretically he should not be Opposed to ppl w heavenly restriction bc. They still fuckin. Don't contribute to curses from what I can tell. Also heavenly restriction is pretty obviously something that is punished by uh. Is it just the Zenin's who have it. Anyway they hated Maki and they Hated Toji so he clearly isn't standing for "oppressed sorcerers" bc if so Maki should be like. The kind of person he wants to help more, as someone who would be oppressed by ppl who aren't sorcerers as well as the powerful clans.

Anyway. While getting rid of curses is for sure part of his motivation, as well as helping sorcerers (see Nanako and Mimiko) id honestly argue that his main problem that lead to him spiraling was. How do I put this. Being knocked off a pedestal

Because he was one of 3 people given the ranking of "Special Grade", and he and satoru are grouped as "the strongest". And consider that satoru comes from a powerful clan and literally has some weird omniscience and invincibility shit going on so that's a whole fucking. That's gotta be a wild ego boost, especially for someone who comes from a family of ppl who aren't sorcerers. Like you spend all this time being a fuckin weirdo and then someone finds you and it turns out you're actually incredibly special and strong, given the same rank as a fucking God Child? You're gonna have some wild self perceptions after that

Anyway then you get to watch your invincible friend get stabbed, watch the girl you became friends with and feel shitty about kinda ruining the life of get shot, and get your whole shit rocked by some guy who can't even use the magic power bullshit you have. (Though he's got a whole physical thing going on because of the trade off)

Also writing all of this out actually makes me understand the Cult Leader progression more, like besides the fact they killed ur friend and you want em dead. You're probably struggling with your ego (especially since your weird God like friend got a whole power boost from the situation) so you create a fucking eugenicist cult where you can consistently prove your superiority to yourself (surrounding yourself with people who will agree with everything you say).

Anyway in a similar vein I wholely believe in "a loving father is not inherently a good father" Suguru + Nanako & Mimiko dynamic

Final thought is roughly I feel like looking at Suguru thru the lense of "this character had a level of privilege that they felt they truly deserved, and after experiencing events that are genuinely traumatic and horrific for any person, they develop reactionary beliefs to try and regain a sense of superiority and control" rather than "oppressed minority who killed oppressors and wants to do eugenics"

[menlove]

I love when women on TV are allowed to be horrible people and pathetic meow meows and have irredeemable flaws and be gross and be unempathetic and have body hair and be selfish and stupid in a human way and hurt the people they love and also when they get to kill people and have gay sex

[wilcze-kudly]

People will go on about how "Katara's story is a tragedy" because she... ended up marrying the guy she loves, having children and grandchildren which she was always excited about and literally becoming a master waterbender and rising to the top of her field as a healer.

Yes, Katara's story has tragic aspects to it. And there are certainly flaws in how she is written in tlok (Though I will argue that there are actually more issues with how Toph and Zuko are just plopped in there for no reason in later seasons). And her storylines aren't perfect, for example her resolving her trauma around the murder of her mother being more used to prop up Zuko than her own internal turmoil. (Most of TSR is from Zuko's perspective and I hate that actually)

"Katara's story is a tragedy" Why do you have such a hard on for this woman's misery? Let her be happy, man.

You know what gaang girlie's life is an actual onscreen tragedy?

Toph's!

People will fucking downplay Toph's childhood abuse because she wasn't physically hurt, but her childhood was a never ending carousel of abelism, misogyny, neglect and isolation. The way Toph describes her parent's treatment of her as "pressure and pain" is heartbreaking.

Toph's only escape was Earth Rumble and earthbending, but despite her skills, she remained the perfect little lady her parents always wanted her to be. She's never known a different life, and she was only able to be her real self in secret.

And when Toph finally opens up to her parents, when she finally lays her real self bare in front of the people who are supposed to love and care for her?

She is met with what may be, in my opinion, the cruellest rejection in the show.

Despite this, even when Toph runs away, she still cares for her parents' approval. Hell, she's even lured into a trap due to her getting a forged letter from her mom and getting excited because it looked like her mom was finally accepting her.

It's also important to note how determined to be self sufficient and to prove herself Toph is. We can especially see this right after she joins the Gaang, where she refuses to participate in splitting with the rest of the group, insisting on "pulling her own weight". This isn't Toph being a brat, or spoilt, this is her wanting to prove that she can handle herself because people have handled and understimated her her entire life.

Eventually, Toph starts to learn to trust the members of the Gaang and this is a step in the right direction. She's literally making friends for the first time in her life I'm so proud of her.

However, I was genuinely upset when Toph's life changing field trip with Zuko didn't work out. When Toph was trying to connect with Zuko and he blew her off (I'm not blaming him tho they had shit to do), I couldn't help but remember the rejection Toph suffered from Lao.

Post canon, Toph continues to try and prove herself, starting a metalbending school and training new metalbenders.

She also reconciles with her father. Not before Lao disowns he rmultiple times and calls her a rude, ungrateful thing. And while he eventually comes to understand Toph and cherish her, that type of trauma sticks with you.

So it's no wonder really that Toph, someone who went her entire childhood seemingly without even speaking to someone her age, would have trouble forming connections. She has children with two different men, neither of which seem to stick around.

Toph tries to do right by her daughters and gives them the freedom she never got. Sadly, the pendulum swung too far to the other side, since it seems that she started to neglect her daughters, which led to them developing a sleugh of issues of their own.

Toph becomes the cheif of police, which kind of makes sense. Republic City was only slowly emerging as an actual metropolis. Toph took on a role as a protector, and probably as a way to prove herself. But as Republic City grew, Toph probably realised that she became something she hated. A cog in the machine, and started to despise her job.

Searching for a semblance of the freedom and happiness her travels afforded her in her childhood, Toph leaves the city and takes up the life of a hermit in a swamp. She managed to fix her relationship with Suyin to some extent, but still seems reluctant or simply unable to connect with her daughter or grandchildren. Since she apparently hasn't seen Opal, a grown 20 year old woman since she was a little girl.

On the surface old Toph doesn't seem terribly dissimilar to young Toph, still tough and spunky. But she is more jaded, depressed and pessimistic. She comes out to save Suyin from immediate harm and manages to somewhat reconcile with Lin, but then she fucks right back off to the swamp where she seems to literally hide until Wu and Korra straight up force her to come with them.

Toph's story began with her alone and it seems to end with her alone as well. It's a story of a girl who grew up isolated and handled by others, and was woefully unprepared for the real world, which only jaded her further. She lives with the guilt of fucking up her daughters' lives and a belief in the pointlessness of life.

Toph started off longing to experience the world and ended up willingly isolating herself from it.

If that isn't a tragedy, I'm not sure what is.

Mind you, this is not the trauma olympics. I'm not saying that Toph has suffered more than Katara or that Katara's trauma is not as valid as Toph's. Katara and Toph's experiences are completely different, Katara being a victim of genocide and war, Toph being a victim of child abuse. I'm just saying that, objectively, Katara had a happier 'ending' than Toph.

[wtfsteveharrington]

"an exploratory kiss, testing the waters between them" with Luca please!

a/n: i love luca so so bad i fear s3 has giving me horrific brain rot for him baby boy i’m knocking on ur door and getting on one knee

contents: kissing, some pda, cluelessness, all my faves

"I mean... I think we're just friends, right?"

Luca takes a long swig from his cold beer pint. Using the drink as an excuse to buy himself time to think. It was some draft IPA that was just the perfect level of pretentious where he didn’t look like a dick but separated himself from some domestic bottle. Something that would matter to no one except a man with his level of perception anxiety. Condensation dripping down his wrist which your eyes follow, trailing the drops as they roll down his forearm.

"Right. And would it be worth risking things between us to test out... Something more? Because I don't want to lose you just to find out we’re being a touch crazy.”

"I don't want to lose you either." You rush out after his sentence, shaking your head while resting your hands on your knees. The rough material of your jeans against your palms helping to keep you grounded.

It had been a half an hour since you and Luca passed some wonderful older woman on the street who needed directions. Luca was able to relay them by heart, though it didn’t stop you from double checking on your phone to ensure you didn’t send her off on a misguided path. She beamed at the two of you once she knew her way, patting Luca’s arm and asking the question that has broken the two of you ever since. “How long have you two been married?”

To which the two of you sputtered out a mess of words, none of which made any sense, and the older woman gave a tsk tsk tsk. “You better propose before it’s too late. Shouldn’t let such a catch get away.” The takes off on her journey. Both of you stood their with your jaws dropped before you finally started continuing on your path to the bar and trying to laugh it off.

But neither of you could let it go.

“We could-…“ You take a deep breath, rolling your shoulders back and strengthening your resolve, “We could kiss? That way we can feel there’s nothing there and get it out of minds.”

Luca stares down at his beer, eyeing the way the foam is slowly dissipating and contemplating his options. “Just one kiss?”

You nod, “Just one. Lips only, no tongue, nothing crazy.”

His body’s turning to you, eyes filled with apprehension. Searching your face for any sign of doubt, which he doesn’t find, before nodding back to you. “Just one. We’re realize how silly this is and put it behind us.”

Luca’s hand comes to rest on top of yours, the bar suddenly feeling so much warmer and intimate than before. Thankfully no one was paying attention to your little table tucked away in the back corner. He’s watching your breathing, watching your expression. Catches your tongue dart out to moisten your lips and he does the same.

He’s close enough now where you can feel the warmth rolling off his body, you can hear each steady breath he takes. “Just… Stop me if this is weird, yeah?”

You nod, leaning in as well until your noses brush against each other and your eyes fall closed before your lips connect against his. They’re slightly cold from his drink, hints of beer still on his lips. You stay connected for just a moment before you pull away, eyeing him apprehensively.

“How was that?”

He sucks in some air, staying close to you still. “It was, uhm, chaste. To say the least.”

There’s a flush on your cheeks at that.

“Well… I mean, We can do a real kiss if you want.”

Luca’s eyes are on yours, his hand moving to slide up your thigh and grabs ahold of it. “We should just make sure, y’know? Because that told me nothing.”

It’s a flawed plan but you’re not thinking as clearly with him this close.

Your arms wrap around his neck and you bring the two of you closer once again. Your lips finding his and you let out a soft moan as you feel his part under yours. He takes the chance to let his tongue slide against your bottom lip before slipping between your lips and into your mouth. You lace one of your hands in his hair while his free arm wraps around your waist now.

It’s his turn to groan into the kiss. The sound causes you to press your thighs together while your tongue moves along his. Your breathing is picking up and you’re convinced he can hear just how hard your heart is beating.

He tastes sweet. The IPA mixed with vanilla from the custard he kept having to taste during service. It was addicting to say the least.

Minutes, hours, days pass by as you lose yourself in him. Eventually you hear him groan, pulling back slightly to press another kiss to your bottom lip before leaning back in his chair. Beaming at your shocked expression.

Your hand comes up, fingers resting against your lips as you chase the feeling of the kiss. Oh.

Luca has to adjust himself on the seat, chuckling at the sight of you as he tries to relax his breathing. “She, uh, she might have known what she was talking about.”

Luca looks smug, even with his blushing cheeks, as he takes another drink of his beer. His hand never leaving your thigh.

[simpxxstan]

best friend's older brother seungcheol

this is part of my 550 followers celebration event! find the rest of the members' headcanons in the event too as i post them through this month!

no warnings: just fluff.

thinking about best friend's older brother!seungcheol who isn't even attractive to you for most of your life

seungcheol, attractive? hell no. you don't understand why every girl in your class drools over him. they ask you for his number, for tips to ask him out, for favours to set them up with him, and you oblige, because you don't get the hype but you don't care about protecting cheol from these girls.

and it doesn't seem that cheol minds either. at each of your birthday parties, you don't even call half the people who turn up, because they just want to ogle seungcheol. and seungcheol even lets them.

you don't care because you just want to spend time with his sister, who's your bestest friend, and it's a small price to pay for her treasured company. and you don't really mind seungcheol's company too, occasionally. although he pouts too much whenever the three of you don't play the game he wants to play.

you don't know how to define your relation with him. he's been everything you had missed in being a single child. teaching you to drive even when your hand-eye coordination sucks. helping you with your precalculus exam even when his own geography exam is the next morning. rescuing you from dumb teens who'd tried to spike your drinks.

but he's not really a brother. you know that more as you grow up when you stop seeing him as just your best friend's older brother, but also as a specimen of the opposite sex. the way his voice becomes deeper, his hair falls longer to the nape of his neck, the way he can no longer fit into the makeshift tent in your room when the three of you play UNO.

and yet, you can't imagine any romantic notion cropping up in your mind with regards to him.

that one time someone asked if you ever had a crush on seungcheol, and you'd laughed straight in their face. crush? on seungcheol? ridiculous, absurd, preposterous. you tell seungcheol the same the next time you see him, and he laughs with you too. see? no scene of romance.

thinking about best friend's older brother!seungcheol who is head over heels in love with you

has been so for the last four years, when he's seen you really grow up into a remarkable woman.

the two of you are just two years apart, so he sees you hitting puberty mere months after him. and boy, he's down bad since that day.

he's not been able to maintain any relationship with anyone he dates simply because he always finds flaws in them that aren't in you. can't bake? too bad, you can. can't sing idol songs? too bad, you know every idol song's lyrics and choreography. can't keep a seat for him during lunch? too bad, you never forget. don't know his favourite ice cream flavour? too bad, you know every ice cream flavour he has liked since he was ten years old. have clear skin? too bad, he would choose your shiny, oily skin any day. wear skirts? too bad, he prefers your baggy jeans because you have pockets to store candies in.

and yet he knows that you don't think of him like that. it doesn't particularly bother him, because he doesn't need you to love him for him to love you.

thinking about best friend's older brother!seungcheol who gets the news of you going abroad for college from his sister, not from you directly

"you didn't even bother to tell me." he says, after almost an hour of you coaxing him to tell you why he's pouty and upset.

"i would tell you, eventually, i would." "and when will eventually come around?" you don't answer, just hug him from the side and press your face to his shoulder. he's gotten remarkably broad in the last few years, perhaps to fit in with his jock image. but his body still feels as soft to you as it did earlier as well, whenever you had hugged him.

"you'll call me?" he says after a long time. "of course." "when will you leave? in august?" "yeah, so i'm still here for a couple more months. this entire summer, i can chill finally." you smile, but he doesn't. his eyes lock onto yours, and your face burns up with the attention he's giving you, although you don't want to look away.

"two more months." without any clue of what's going on in his head, you shoot him a confused glare. "yeah, two months. two months are a long time." "not really. but they're enough." "enough?" cheol doesn't reply. he doesn't need to. actions always prove louder than words.

thinking about best friend's older brother!seungcheol who now spends more time with you than ever

he's not even being subtle about it. he totally stops going out for parties and random date nights, in favour of spending every evening with you. your best friend is busy with her boyfriend, who's also pining because she's leaving too with you, so cheol has you completely to himself.

together, the two of you explore every nook and cranny of the city you were born in. cheol is surprised at how little you know about your own city, and you're shocked at how much he knows. "you gangster. how are you so familiar with these parts of the town?" you blush as he drives you thru the red light district of the city, clutching him tight as you sit behind him on his motorbike. "i've spent many a happy evening in these lanes, sweetheart." "do you want to drop me off and enjoy here then? i can take the bus home." he grabs your hands which are wrapped around his shoulders and pulls you closer to him. "don't say stuff you don't really mean, sweetheart."

sweetheart. that's a new nickname, but he's using it ever so often these days. he checked your reaction the first time he used it, and while your eyes had grown wide in mild shock, you'd not really protested against him. and he knows you've never not loudly protested against something you don't like. so he knows pretty well you don't mind the nickname. and if the way you're wearing the same lipgloss and the same pair of jeans every day ever since he complimented it once is anything to go by then you like the nickname too.

thinking about best friend's older brother!seungcheol who you're touching a little more as each day passes by

you don't know when it starts to happen, but you rather start to looking forward to seeing him every damn day.

you hope he doesn't realise why you keep wearing the same lipgloss every day. you hope he doesn't realise why you suddenly enjoy riding his motorcycle with him. you hope he doesn't realise that you no longer argue with him when he insists on taking you to places he's more familiar with.

and you certainly hope he doesn't ask why. because to be honest, you don't know if you could answer it yourself. why do you want him to look at you more? why do you want to touch the muscles on his back through his white t-shirts? why do you let him beat you in every arcade game as long as it means that he celebrates his victory by hugging you?

perhaps because when you try to think of your life without seungcheol, you come up with a blank. you simply cannot imagine a life where he’s not a part of it. a life without him at your birthdays and new year parties? a life without him on your emergency dial? a life without him being your go-to person for any excuse you want to whip up to get out of a situation? a life without your #1 supporter no matter what you’ve done? you can’t imagine it at all. 

and this realisation makes you think again on what your relationship with seungcheol really is. 

thinking about best friend's older brother!seungcheol who brings you to the beach the day before his birthday

it’s also your last week in this country. the two of you spend the entire day wandering through street stalls that are set up next to the beach. you buy him a seashell locket that he promptly wears around his neck. he buys you as many glasses of boba tea as you like, which turns out to be nearly every flavour sold at the stall. 

when night comes, the two of you lie down in the rocky sand along the beach, slightly isolated from the rest of the crowds, and giggle to your own inside jokes while embracing the scent of the sea breeze mingled with the cool night air. 

the clock strikes midnight in the distance, and you whisper in seungcheol’s ears, “happy birthday, cheol-ah.” he laughs softly, his voice hoarse after all the talking of the day. “you’re the first to wish me.” “like always, isn’t it?” you turn on your side to face the man, his arm outstretched and your head lying on his arm, barely touching and yet so, so close. “i’ll always be the first to wish you, cheol-ah. even with a time zone difference.” you almost laugh when you see the way his lips go from a smile to a pout, sadness spreading across his features. “i’ll miss you, sweetheart.” he turns to face you too, his bicep flexing under your cheeks as the two of you face each other and breathe in the same air. under the moonlight, his sharp features look soft, his eyebrows hidden under his bangs. 

“can i ask you something?” seungcheol hums, his pout deepening. the impulse burns through your veins. something about how much closer you’ve grown over the last few weeks makes you feel braver. “can i kiss you, seungcheol?” the man in front of you smirks, “i thought you would never ask.”

his lips meet yours halfway and take away any ounce of hesitation from your mind. the first kiss is short, but when you pull away to take a breath, he leans in further, his body coming slightly above you as he tucks you into his arm and deepens the kiss. his other hand cupping your cheeks. 

“is this my birthday present?” seungcheol asks you from above you, breathless. you giggle, shy from the proximity. “if you want. did you like it?” “like? fucking loved it, sweetheart. best birthday present ever.”

[mrsdesade]

I'd like something based on Sage vs fem!supe! Maybe them arguing and then Homie forced to choose between one of them, but everything ending up with something unexpected! You choose what :)

Shattered glasses;

Pairing: Homelander x fem!super (I use Ophera bc I don't like writing ''y/n'' y'know) TW: slight angst, mention of poisoning, morally grey fem!supe Timeline: season 4 Words count: 2,7k Note: thanks for the request dear anon, I was waiting for writing something about s4 :) ofc no hate for any characters!!

Sister Sage never liked you. From the first moment she saw you, she knew you would be a hindrance. She's not jealous, not even in love with him, she just wanted to control Homelander, and you already had him in your grasp. But the little flaws in your absolutely not perfect relationship with him were the perfect opportunity for her to destroy you and get you fired.

For months she had been trying to make you look incompetent or unable to do your work, she was the smartest woman in the world, and in her eyes you were just another showgirl like the others.

But you were on the Seven from the early years and, oh, you didn't liked at all the fact that Homelander had chosen her as his advisor.

You, you are his partner, he should listen to you.

It has always been about control, rarely about love. But now you feel jealousy boiling in your veins, your control over him is slipping away, and you feel in danger. You know that you'll have to prove to Sage that it is not so easy to get rid of you.

Sister Sage sat comfortably at the table of the Seven, her hands folded in front of her, sipping a steaming cup of chamomile tea. With a delicate motion, she set the cup back down on its saucer, and flashed you a calm smile.

“I think you’re letting your emotions cloud your judgment. You’re making this personal. It’s simply business.”

She's too confident in her intellectual abilities, to the point of arrogance. She's good at reading people, especially their feelings and insecurities, and she uses that to her advantage in arguments, trying to make you say something stupid and make you look like a fool.

“You’ve had your chance at the top, dear. It’s time to accept that things have changed.”

You are standing, with your hands placed on the table, clenched into two fists to hold back your nervousness, looking for the right words to face her, but nothing comes out of your lips.

“Listen, I understand your… frustration. After all, you’re nothing more than a relic these days, don’t you think? A fading star.”

The words hit you like a blow to the gut. Her casual insults were like salt rubbed vigorously into an open wound. You fight back the urge to respond with anger, knowing that she's goading you into a reaction.

“Oh, I hit a nerve, didn’t I? That’s exactly what I meant. You’re stuck in the past. You can’t adjust to the changes. It’s kinda pathetic, really.”

You wanted nothing more than to reach across the table and wipe that arrogant smile off her face, but you knew that’s exactly what she wanted. So you took a deep breath, trying to maintain some semblance of composure.

“I suggest you think about your words better, the last person who dared to call me pathetic didn't end well.”

Sage raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

“You can try to intimidate me all you want, but it won’t change the fact that your time has passed. No matter what you do, you won't be able to get your spotlight back.”

“Dear, I fill the stadiums, the arenas, millions of people come to hear my voice every night, every single event is sold out in minutes! I wouldn't call this decay of a carreer.”

“Ah, yes, the fame and the adoration of the masses. Impressive, really. But I was referring to another type of spotlight here.”

She paused for a moment, studying your face before continuing. Your gaze has become dark, almost threatening, you know perfectly well where he wants his speech to end.

“We both know you lost your real spotlight a long time ago…the one that matters. Homelander won’t change his mind about me.”

Your expression betrays your emotions, anger and frustration bubbling just beneath the surface.

“You're playing a dangerous game Sage, you know that? You think you can just waltz in here and take my place?”

“Ophera, is it so hard to accept that I’m better equipped for the job? You’ve always been so blinded by your ego and your pride. Your strategy is always to stay safe and not lose your career, Vought needs much more than this.”

Her expression was cool and calculating, as If she had already mapped out every possible reaction you might have.

“And let's clarify, I don’t need to take your spot. I already have.”

Your face twisted in anger, your fists gripped the table’s edge, under your gloves knuckles turning white.

“You arrogant little—“ you began, but she calmly interrupted you.

“Now, now, there’s no need for insults.” she chided, her voice dripping with faux sweetness. “We’re adults here, we can speak calmly and intelligently like any normal person, don’t you agree?”

“You're feeling cool, mh? Acting all smart and knowing everything. I've been a part of this Seven for years. And you, you're nothing.”

Her cool demeanor began to crack, and a hint of annoyance flickered across her face at your words.

“Ah, here it goes. The same old tired argument. I've been here longer, I'm more experienced, blah blah blah.”

She leaned forward, her eyes boring into yours with an intensity that contradicted her calm exterior.

“Oh, did I hit a nerve?” you teased, mirroring her earlier taunt.

“Don't get too comfortable.” she retorted, her voice slightly sharpened. “You should remember that your position here is fragile. One wrong word, one wrong move, and you could lose everything you have left.“

You leaned forward now, your voice lowering as you met her gaze.

“You seem to forget that I’ve still a pretty big influence over Homelander myself. I can make things difficult for you if I want to.”

“I think we both know who he listens to these days.”

The conversation was cut short when the door to the room burst open, and Homelander strolled in, his presence immediately filling the space. His eyes flicked between the two of you, sensing the tension in the room.

“What's going on here?”

You and Sage both turned your attention to him, quickly composing yourselves.

“Just a chat. I was merely informing Ophera of some important developments within about the Vought future.”

Homelander glanced at you, tilting his head slightly as he observed.

“A chat, huh? Didn't look like a friendly one to me.”

“You're right. And since it's clear that Sage loves telling you lies, I'll tell you that wasn't just a simple chat.” an adorable, mischievous smile escapes from your lips. Exposing the little lie she told to him.

Homelander's eyes immediately landed on Sage, waiting for her to respond. “Care to explain?”

Sage shifted in her seat, clearly irritated that you had exposed her lie. “It's nothing serious, just a typical argument between colleagues. Nothing you need to worry about.” she replied quickly, trying to downplay the situation.

And incredibly, it works.

Homelander nods like a tamed puppy and believes her.

You couldn't help but feel a pang of frustration as Homelander seemed to buy into Sage's explanation so easily. It seemed like she had him wrapped around her little finger.

“I see, things like this happens, just keep it professional, ladies, okay?”

Sage shot you a quick, victorious look, smug knowing her sweet words to him had prevailed, again.

Disappointment flooding through your veins. It infuriated you how easily Homelander seemed to believe blindly in to Sage's words. You tried to maintain a neutral expression. But you won't have another opportunity like this to assert your dominance, you have to think of something quickly. Sage sure is smart, but you can be really sly.

You pretended to shrug nonchalantly, even though inside you were seething with anger. But you weren't done yet.

You locked eyes with Homelander, ensuring he was listening to you. And then you spoke, your voice dripping with feigned concern.

“It’s true, it wasn’t a big deal. But there’s one thing that concerns me, Homelander. May I be honest with you?”

He tilted his head slightly, curiosity piqued. “You've to.”

“I felt a bit insecure lately and I was wondering...If I should save Sage from poisoning or me from falling from a building. Who would you save?”

Your question comes like an unexpected bolt of lightning, without anyone being able to foresee it or understand its real intention. You cross your arms over your chest and walk around the room slowly, waiting for a response.

He's is taken aback by your question, and the room falls silent. Sage glanced at you quickly, an unexpected flicker of worry in her eyes.

Homelander's eyes follow you as you walk around the room. He's quiet for a few moments, considering the weight of your words before answering.

“Why should I choose, I can save both without effort, you know that.” he finally responds, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Your lips curled into a smirk - the answer is far from satisfactory.

“Of course, but let's say you can only choose one.” you persist, your voice steady. “Who would it be?”

His expression unreadable. He's definitely taken off guard by your insistence, and you can see a hint of annoyance starting to form underneath the surface.

“There are too many factors to consider, I can't just say one random name. Fuck, you and your stupid questions...”

Sage looks down at the cup of chamomile tea she was drinking a few minutes ago, and for a second the fear of having been poisoned actually makes her shiver.

“And that's why I'm here to listen all of your thoughts about.” you smile at him once again, hiding something dark behind your kind tone.

Homelander sighs, finally realizing you won’t back down. He crosses his arms, staring at you with slight irritation.

“Fine. Let's say, If I had to choose, I'd likely save Sage first.”

Sage's head snapped up upon hearing his decision, and her eyes widened in surprise. But you answer him carefully, still smiling.

“Are you sure about that?”

“I mean, you're more resistant than her, you wouldn't really die falling from a building. While Sage body is totally human, he would certainly die without an antidote for the poison.”

Your smirk widens, you expected this.

“There, happy now? I solve your fucking riddle.”

You quickly turn away from the conversation and casually walk over towards the large window you know is behind Sage's seat. Acting as if you were admiring the view outside, you casually reach for the handle and pull the window open. The gust of wind that blows in is strong enough to be unexpected, the documents on the table rattle, and the curtains wave violently.

Sage's hand involuntarily releases her cup of tea, and as it hits the floor and the liquid splashes in her direction, a look of panic and realization flashed across her face.

She quickly rises from her seat, her body shaking subtly, trying to play it off as if it was just a simple accident. But anyone can see the flicker of panic behind her eyes. The liquid seeps into the carpet, staining it a dark brown.

“You— Ophera what have you done to my tea?!”

Homelander's eyes narrow, his attention suddenly diverted from the ongoing conversation.

You feign surprise, tilting your head to the side innocently. “Me? Nothing.”

“Bullshit!” Sage points a finger at you, a mixture of shock and fury on her face. She starts to feel strange, she feels dizzy and her legs are shaking.

You turn back to the large open window, the strong gust of wind causing your hair to flutter and the hem of your uniform to flutter. As you look outside, you subtly step back, closer and closer to the edge, the tips of your feet barely holding onto the edge of the window frame.

“What the hell are you doing Ophera?” he say, his voice sharp. “Get away from the window, where has your fear of great heights gone?”

Your eyes flick toward Homelander, a sly smile playing on your lips as you continue to stand dangerously close to the open window, your words dripping with a hint of manipulation.

“Well, I guess now you finally have a real opportunity to choose, love.”

A moment of silence hangs in the air as they're taken off guard by your audacity. Suddenly, without any warning, you lean back, and with a graceful leap, you launch yourself out of the window.

Homelander's heart skips a beat.

“No…No, don't—” he exclaimed desperately, his body moving on instinct.

The wind immediately engulfs you as the ground rapidly comes closer and closer. You feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins, looking at the blue sky, the thrill of the freefall mixing with the intense rush of the air hitting your back.

In an instant, a blur of red and blue rushes towards you as Homelander flies out, he flies towards you at superhuman speed shattering the glass of the other windows. He moves closing the distance between you and him in mere seconds.

From the window, Sage leans out, looking at you both with disbelief. Her eyes widened, and her mouth hangs open, speechless at the turn of events.

Homelander catches you mid-air, wrapping his arms around you, the wind still rushes around you both. You can feel his hands shaking a bit as he holds you.

You look up at him, a cheeky smirk dancing on your lips. A breathless laugh escapes you, the adrenaline still pumping through your veins. Your heart pounds, and a sense of exhilaration washes over you. The suddenness of your action still hangs in the air, and his surprise is evident in his eyes.

“Ops, I guess you picked me.”

Homelander huffs, his grip on you slightly loosening, relaxing, floating in air with you. He shakes his head, relief and frustration clear on his face.

“You're out of your goddamn mind woman.”

“Maybe I am. But, at least you still care enough to save me.” you chuckle softly, enjoying the moment of his attention.

He rolls his eyes, but you can see a smile on his lips and he's slowly moving in the hair to coming back inside the Tower.

You reach out to caress his face gently, your touch tender against his skin. Your hand trail over his jaw, feeling the slight stubble beneath your fingertips. Your other hand still grips onto the fabric of his suit, holding onto him.

“Y'know...I thought Sage brainwashed you into choosing her over me, but I'm happy to see that's not the case.”

His expression softens a little, his eyes meeting yours.

“Believe me, I think she tried. But she didn’t brainwash me at all.” he grumbles, his voice low. “I’m not that easy to control. You should know that..”

“I know you're far from being easy to control. You’re too stubborn and prideful for that.”

He huffs again, with his bold smirk on his lips. “You’re quite stubborn too, maybe more than me. Just look at your little stunt back there.”

As he lands back inside the room with you in his arms, the scene is a little chaotic. He takes a moment to check you are okay, before his eyes land on Sage, who is now passed out on the floor.

“Was really necessary to poison her? Despite your jealousy he was an excellent strategy member to the team.” he say, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Relax. She's not dead. There wasn't a single drop of poison or anything in her tea.” you look down at Sage's unconscious body, lying motionless on the floor, and a small, satisfied smile lifts the corners of your lips.

“Then why the hell is she passed out?” he asks, puzzled.

You kneel down next to her and tilt your head to the side as you examine her unconscious form. The feeling of triumph washes over you, knowing that you managed to manipulate her fear and doubt to your advantage.

“With a brain like hers, mental deceptions are more effective than anything else. It was enough for me to convince her that she had been poisoned and goodnight little sunshine.”

He lets out a low whistle, impressed by the simplicity of your tactic.

“Damn. You really know how to mess with people's heads.”

There's admiration in his voice. An admiration for you that you can still wear like a medal.

“But you really had to prove a point in such a dramatic manner, huh?”

You stand back up, brushing off your uniform and looking at Homelander with a smug smile.

“I had to do something to prove to her, and you, who your favourite really was.”

-------

Hope you like it! I will calmly continue to write about him based on your ask box requests, I will not leave anyone unsatisfied, I promise <3

[agustdtown1]

Prompt no. 15 with Taehyung

PAIRING: kim taehyung x fem!reader.

WC: 2.4k

WARNINGS: the prompt is in bold, age gap (th is 35 & reader is 25), smut 18+, unprotected sex, dom!taehyung, idk if it would actually count as degradation but I’m throwing it in there just in case, idk tae just likes to make fun of reader and how desperate she is for him 🤷🏻‍♀️, doggy, chocking, slight clit slapping, a bit of masturbation (on readers end), sir kink, begging and a whole lotta petnames; btw this is not proofread.

A/N: thank you for your request, i hope you like it! I enjoyed writing this one sm.

prompt list | event masterlist | general masterlist

Unapproachable, stoic, cold-hearted and undeniably handsome, that’s what Kim Taehyung was. A man of many qualities and few flaws, one that could make any woman —or man, for that matter— weak in the knees with a single glance. His elegant mannerisms often drew people’s attention towards him, making it impossible to avoid unwanted social interactions wherever he went. Taehyung didn’t like the undivided attention he has gained over the years, which in retrospect he should have known it was going to be a given after building a successful empire in the entertainment industry. Nonetheless, the man didn’t like being the center of attention most of the time.

Luckily for him, there were times when his solemn demeanor would make people think twice before trying to talk to him, and rightfully so, for every single attempt to start a conversation with him was quickly shut down with a stern gaze and a grimace that —according to the man himself— resembled a grin. His cold attitude, however, was exactly what drew you in.

The first time you met Kim Taehyung you couldn’t believe a man like him was even real. He presented himself before you at the gala that you and your family attended every year. The man was tall enough to tower over you; his dark hair was combed nicely to leave his forehead free, giving him an elegant look; his eyes, oh his eyes, those dark brown orbs who stared you down with such a fierce gaze knocked the air out of you. But what really sealed the deal was the ghost of a smile taking place on his lips. It would be a lie to say you weren’t looking at him all night, it was quite hard not to in all honesty. Hence, you realized the tall man was not fond of smiling at others, but oddly enough he was willing to show you a grin, albeit a bit feeble, but a grin nonetheless.

“This is not your type of party.” It wasn’t a question or a guess; the dark-haired man spoke with such firmness that it made you doubt just how well you knew yourself. “It’s quite obvious.”

Taehyung didn’t show any sort of emotion on the outside, but deep inside he was trying to conceal an amused smile; he knew girls like you would kill to be anywhere else than in such a boring event. Like drinking an obscene amount of cheap vodka at a cramped bar, while your friends were trying their best to move to the beat of any trendy song at the moment; the night would undoubtedly end with you hooking up with a random guy.

Oh how he missed being young and free.

However, that was exactly what you didn’t want nor needed to do. After facing such a nasty break up, the last thing you wanted to do was mess around with just any guy that comes walking straight to you. A change of scenery is what you desperately needed, and maybe, just maybe, a man like Kim Taehyung would be the perfect remedy for that.

“I’m going to show you how a real man fucks.”

The idea of fucking a man that was ten years older than you was completely preposterous, but perhaps that’s exactly why you decided to follow through and act on your impulsive thoughts. It was stupid to believe you would be able to get in between the sheets with a man like Kim Taehyung; unrealistic, too good to be true. Therefore, the consequences that you were most likely going to face in the near future didn’t feel too serious for you to decline his offer to fuck you senseless. And with a faint fuck it, you started the memory of a night that would be too difficult to forget.

Taehyung’s hands were all over your body, caressing your skin as if it was the most delicate porcelain he’s ever touched. His lips were leaving burning kisses up and down your neck, stealing gasps whenever he used his teeth to place a harsh mark on your tender flesh. The sensations were too much to bear and he had barely done anything.

“I need more.” A small plea for the pleasure you were eagerly seeking. “Don’t tease me, please.”

“I wanted to take my sweet time with you.” He mentioned, pulling away from the crook of your neck. “But how can I say no to that when you ask so nicely?”

Without further ado, Taehyung aligned his bare length with your soaked entrance, slightly teasing you by coating his tip with your juices.

“Just put it in!” You whined, trying to guide his cock into your pussy, only to receive a harsh slap on your thigh.

“You’re in no position to tell me what to do, princess.” Kim retrieved slightly, clasping your neck with one of his big hands. “That attitude might have worked with the dumb guys you’ve fucked before, but I’m not like them. If you want something you better start acting right, otherwise you’ll get nothing.” His hot breath was falling against your face due to how close he was. “Am I clear?” You nodded dumbly, but that wasn’t enough for him. “I didn’t hear you.”

“Yes, you’re very clear.”

“Now, that’s a good girl.”

Taehyung didn’t wait for you to realize what was happening, before he slowly pushed his cock right into your drenched cunt, enjoying the warm feeling.

“Shit, you’re so tight, doll.” The man noted, already entranced by the way your walls were sucking him in. “You might not be able to take it all.”

A cry escaped from your mouth in a clear protest at what he was saying. You knew your body and your limits, and as big as Taehyung was —more than what you imagined, actually—, you were sure that you were able to take all of him. There was no need for going slow or being cautious with you, in fact, it was pointless to do so with the way you were desperately trying to get him closer to you.

“I will.” You assured him. “Don’t hold back, I can take it, I swear.” With a teasing smile you continued. “Weren’t you going to show me how a real man fucks?”

Hearing his own words coming from your mouth was like an awakening moment; you could see the switch in his demeanor, how his eyes darkened and his grip grew tighter around your waist.

“You better not be lying, doll.”

In a split of a second, Taehyung pulled out of your warm walls to flip you over and make you lay on your stomach.

“Ass up.” He ordered with a serious tone.

Kim didn’t waste a second longer before he reinserted himself inside your pussy. That magical feeling of your velvety walls wrapped around his cock was one he would never forget. The way you were, in fact, taking all of him so effortlessly was driving him crazy.

“Oh my fucking god.” You moaned, due to not only the change in position but also speed.

“This what you wanted, love? Me fucking you dumb, until your legs are shaking and the only thing on your mind is my damn name.” Taehyung was an experienced man, and along with experience came the knowledge of saying the right things to rile you up.

Even more than he already has.

“Yes, fuck. I want nothing more!”

Taehyung increased the pace of his thrusts, making you feel him ridiculously deep by the way he was pounding into you.

“Shit, just like that, don’t stop.” You cried out, fisting the sheets to ground yourself.

To your surprise, the response you got to your previous sentence was nothing more than a slap to your ass cheek, making you groan and jolt in your place.

“What was that for?”

“I already told you, darling.” He panted. “You’re no one to give me orders.”

His veiny hands were holding your hips furiously, digging his fingers in your soft flesh, and you knew for sure that there were going to be some marks showing in the morning. However, you couldn’t care any less at the moment, your only concern was getting that sweet release that was slowly approaching. By the way his cock was reaching all the right places, you knew that it wouldn’t take that long to finally get it, but you needed a bit more, just a little push.

One of your own hands drifted down to messily rub your clit in a rapid motion. Moans and whines were falling from your lips, muffled by the soft pillow. You could feel it, that sweet feeling of unraveling; an electrifying sensation running through your body to let you know your orgasm was approaching. Fingers were moving with haste, urgently touching your clit.

A deep chuckle echoed through the room, and before you could even react a much bigger hand grabbed your wrist and rudely pushed it away from your folds.

“You dumb little brat,” Taehyung sneered. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice?” His hand slapped your clit a few times, stealing whines from your mouth. “It is clear for me that I need to teach you some manners.”

The tall man lowered himself enough for you to feel his hot chest covering your bare back; dangerous lips brushing the shell of your ear while his muscular arm made its way up to wrap itself loosely around your neck. “Come on, ask for it. Nicely.”

You just wanted to scream; the way he was fucking you, along with his words, was driving you crazy. Not only was it the fact that his cock was repeatedly hitting that sweet spot of yours due to the way Taehyung was still ramming into you, but also his husky voice was making wonders to you. The man as a whole was so intoxicating; corrupting your mind with his indecent behavior and lewd touching. But far from wanting to get out of his spell, you leaned into his warm chest, saying his name like a sinful prayer.

“Taehyung… I wa-want you to touch me… please.”

“Touching you is all I’ve been doing since I saw you in that tight dress, sweetheart.” He stated. “Isn’t this enough?”

His free hand was hovering over your swollen clit, which was almost crying for his fingers to run wild over it. So close yet so far from what you needed.

“No…” You sighed; arms giving up and legs starting to shake, a matter of time before you would have to desperately beg for your release.

“Tsk, so greedy.”

Taehyung wanted to prolong your suffering by running his fingers close enough to your clit, but he reckoned this encounter had been going on for longer than the time he had to spare. And so, instead of being the asshole who would laugh at your desperation, he busied his hand nested in between your thighs, rubbing circles on your clit with his skilled fingers; it was clear as day that the extra touching was making you sensitive, and he loved to have such an effect on you.

“Is this what you wanted?” He teased you, sporting a bright and mocking smile on his face that you, unfortunately, couldn’t see. “Being touched like this really turns you on, huh? You get satisfied with so little, so used to being barely taken care of to be ambitious and ask for something else than the bare minimum.”

If you weren’t sure that Kim Taehyung wasn’t like any other guy you have met before, the way he talked to you really cemented the idea. No man, or boy for that matter, has ever spoken to you in the way Taehyung did. Haughty, arrogant, conceited, those were just a few of the words you could use to describe the brown-eyed man at that precise moment. Acting so sure of himself and the pleasure he could —already did— provide you with. His words were a clear example of how full of himself Taehyung really was. Surprisingly enough, that was exactly what lured you into begging him to give you more.

An ego boost, if you will, but it would assure you a mind blowing orgasm if you kept acting like that.

“Oh fuck, I’m so close.” You moaned. “You’re fucking me so good, sir.”

That word, which was far from being foreign for the tall man, fueled the fire within his body.

You really knew how to play his game.

“Say it again.” Taehyung ordered.

“Sir…” You moaned. “Please let me cum.”

A long overdue plea. Kim acknowledged that your breaking point was near, he could tell by the way you were clenching on his cock, almost making it impossible for him to move

“Fuck.” He panted, tightening the grip on your neck, which was previously loose. “You really wan it, don’t you?”

You nodded vehemently, whining and squirming beneath his body.

“Go on then, make my cock all creamy, princess.”

It was an automatic response to his lewd words. Your body exploded in a plethora of emotions and sensations that it has never experienced before. Toes curling, legs trembling, mouth agape, with moans worthy of being the audio of a porno running free through the room. Your vision became blurry for a moment, head too heavy to keep it up; your face ended up being squished against the soft pillow, while your body tried to recover from such an intense orgasm.

Through the years, you gained a fair amount of knowledge about what your body liked when it came to sex, but the things Taehyung did and said to you opened your eyes to a new side of yourself that was unfairly hidden, due to the poor performance of your previous sexual partners. But as amazing as it was, there was a pinch of fear invading your mind and heart for the same reason. No one has been able to give you what Taehyung did, and there was a very high chance that you would never be in the same situation as you were right now; how will you survive in a world where Kim Taehyung wasn’t the man making you see stars with a single touch?

“Are you okay, princess?” His husky voice invaded your ears like a sweet melody. “Hey, look at me, pretty, come back to me… there you are.”

A ghost of a smile, a genuine one, was adorning his face, making you feel uneasy.

How can a man like him be real? Where has he been all my life?

“I hope you’re not tired yet, because we’re not done here.” His small smile turned into a full smirk.

You were worried about the days to come, when your only comfort would be replaying this night over and over again in your head, but maybe, just maybe, you didn’t need to think about that for now.

“You’re mine for the rest of the night, doll.”

Taglist 🏷️: @aphrwodite @r1r111 @cholychi @artificialsuicid @vsr4197

[tkwrites]

It Doesn't Matter Part I - Nico Hischier x ofc

Gif from offside-the-lines

Title: It Doesn’t Matter - Part I

Part I | Part II | Part III | Playlist

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Beginning: Nico Hischier x Original female character 

Summary: Nico and Lena have been friends ever since he played in Halifax. When an opportunity of a lifetime brings Lena to New York, Nico offers up his apartment as her home base despite the fact that he’s been painfully, desperately in love with her for the last six years.

Warnings: Slow burn, mutual pining, friends to lovers, talks of masturbation, but nothing is described, Cliff hanger ending (I’m sorry, I had to!)

Word count: 7,300

Anonymous asked: I saw that you rebloged the Nico fic so I have to ask would you ever be open to write for him?, because the combination of your perfect writing and that sweet man, I would die for sure 😂

Comments: A thousand thanks to 🥭 Anon for requesting this fic! Nico has been such a fun, sweet character to write. I’m sorry for the cliffhanger ending, but I envisioned this fic in 3 parts, and this one had to end here. I hope you enjoy it! 

If you liked this, please let me know by commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask. Your encouragement and comments truly inspire me to keep writing. 

It Doesn’t Matter - Part I

“You coming to the bar tonight?” Jesper asked. 

“I can’t, I’m helping Lena move in.” 

“Wait,” Jack said, barging his way into their conversation as per usual, “Lena, Lena? Like Lena from Halifax who you’ve been in love with since you were seventeen?” 

Nico felt a blush flood his cheeks as he nodded. 

“Moving in?”

“She’s coming to New York for an art program this year, so I told her she could stay with me.” 

Jack stared at him, one of his eyebrows cocked up. “You’re sure that’s a good idea?” 

Nico shook his head. 

“No it’s not a good idea, or no you’re not sure?” 

He shrugged. Hell if he knew. He was thrilled to have her close by but knew it would likely be torturous at the same time. 

“Who is Lena?”

“She’s this girl he met when he was playing for the Mooseheads,” Jack explained. “You haven’t heard about her? He never shuts up about her.” 

Blushing, Nico tossed an elbow pad in Jack’s direction. 

“Did you stay with her family or something?” 

“No,” Nico said. “She was friends with our goalie.”

“They’ve been besties ever since, and Nico still hasn’t grown the balls to ask her out.” 

Nico glared at him. 

“What?” Jack asked, shrugging. “You haven’t.”

“It’s complicated.”

“What’s so complicated about it? You like her. She’s single. You’re single. What’s the problem?” 

“I don’t…” he broke off. 

Keeping Lena as a friend was more important than the possibility of him spilling his feelings and risking losing her. Plus, he wasn’t totally sure she’d respond the way he wanted, and he was pretty certain he wouldn’t survive it if she turned him down. 

“So, in the meantime, you’re just breaking up with every girl you’ve dated and overlooking every other woman because they don’t measure up, but you won’t ask her out, so you’re just pining full time.” 

It was stunning, really, how he could talk so accurately about other peoples relationships without seeing the flaws in his own. Nico knew from experience not to bring Madeline up. In situations of talking about failure in relationships, Jack could dish all day long, but he could never quite take it if it was served back at him. 

“Betty at 2:00,” Jack murmured. Watching a petite woman with light hair enter the bar. She had a pretty, heart shaped face and big, expressive eyes.

She turned around, laughing at whoever was following her. Despite the fact that he couldn’t hear her, Jack knew her laugh was the kind that made other people want to laugh along.

Instead of the friend he expected, Nico stepped into the bar after her, looking a little punch drunk. 

Jack nearly choked on his beer.

Well, shit. 

If Lena was as funny and sweet as Nico made her out to be, Jack didn’t think he’d be able to move on from her either. 

She said something to Nico, and he tore his gaze from her to look around the bar. Their eyes met, and he raised a hand in greeting. Jack waved back. 

As they made their way closer, Jack realized her hair was actually light pink. And she had a nose ring: a delicate, jeweled thing hanging from her septum. Instead of calling up a resemblance to a hooked bull, like he usually thought those piercings looked, it made her face more lovely and interesting. The dainty diamond rested in the curve of her cupid's bow, emphasizing the shape of her top lip.

Lena felt herself smile upon walking up to the group of hockey players and their partners. She’d grown up with boys like this, and walking up to them was a bit like walking into her childhood. 

“It’s Jack, right?” Lena asked. She’d seen photos of him from Nico and recognized him right away, along with Jesper, who was sitting on his other side.

“In the flesh. You must be Lena,” Jack said, standing up. He shot her a flirtatious, charming smile.

She couldn’t quite hide her eye roll, “he’s just as cheesy as you said,” she whispered to Nico, who was still standing off to her left. 

Shoulders shaking with laughter, Nico pulled out a chair for her before settling into the one beside it.

God, even in this awful club lighting, she looked beautiful. The finer parts of her face were dulled in the dim, but everything he could see made him long for her. 

Maybe Jack was right. Maybe this was a terrible idea.   

“So, Lena,” Jesper said, leaning back in his chair, “what brings you to the city?” 

“I got accepted into an intensive year-long art program at the New York Institute of Art. I’ve been applying for years, and they finally accepted me.” 

“What kind of art do you do?” Dawson asked. 

He’d wandered to the table as soon as they sat down, and Nico was talking himself down from moving to sit between them. Dawson wouldn’t stop looking at Lena like she’d just fallen from the moon, and he wanted nothing more than to fall into her bed. 

“I paint, but I do a lot of charcoal drawings and pastels, too.” 

“Like the colors?” 

She was used to this question and laughed indulgently at the confused expression on his face. “No, pastels are just pigment with a binder. It’s kind of like paint, but they’re not liquid.” 

“She does amazing stuff,” Nico cut in, knowing she wouldn’t brag about her own work. He was happy to do it for her. “She did all the art in my apartment.” 

The first time Lena had visited him, she was aghast at how little was on his walls. It made his whole house look like a hospital - too sterile and characterless. No wonder he was depressed when he wasn’t playing. His home looked like a place made for leaving. 

So she’d painted for him. Ten canvases in total. Most were landscapes, but there was also a small abstract he always suspected was a kind of self portrait and a strange, dark, modern piece - swirls of color chasing each other across the canvas. When he asked about that one, she’d told him his games inspired it - blurs of black and red darting around the ice. 

She’d even done a large landscape of the view from his childhood window, based on a photo he’d sent her several summers before. Rows and rows of misty roofs tucked into the base of the Alps as the mountains loomed over the town. Somehow, she managed to capture the safe, cocooned feeling of home.

Every time he looked at the painting where it hung, taking up nearly the whole wall opposite his bed, it eased some of his homesickness during the long seasons in New Jersey.  

For months, a package he didn’t order would show up at his door, and he’d open it to reveal yet another piece of her to keep with him. 

When the Naters painting arrived, he’d called her practically in tears. She told him she knew he missed home and hoped it would bring a little bit of home to Jersey. 

He forced her to accept repayment for shipping such a large canvas and made her promise to let him pay if she was sending any more. Instead, she’d brought an additional four with her on her next visit.

Dawson looked even more enamored as he said, “that stuff is really good!” 

Nico couldn’t remember Dawson taking any particular interest in the art when he’d been at his house before. Jack had noticed it, which had spurred the conversation about Lena in the first place. 

She offered him a thankful smile that Nico was pleased to see, was void of any flirtation. 

They had a drink a piece before she began to yawn. Nico wasn’t surprised. She’d driven from Halifax to Maine the day before and then from Maine to New Jersey that morning. He’d helped her unload her things before she insisted they come to the kickoff party. 

“I’m really sorry,” she apologized, covering her mouth. 

“You’ve had a long day,” Dawson said, encouraging, “you should go get some sleep.” 

She smiled indulgently at him before standing from the table. She really was exhausted. Plus alcohol always made her sleepy. 

When they got home, Lena asked, “Do you mind if I let cookie out?” 

He shook his head, going to the kitchen to get some water. 

A few minutes later, her light orange tabby cat came skulking into the kitchen, eyeing everything suspiciously. When they made eye contact, Cookie narrowed his eyes as he stalked over. 

After sniffing his socks, he seemed to decide he was the same person he’d always been and rubbed his face on Nicos leg. 

Walking into the kitchen, Lena heard Nico murmuring in German. As always, it made her stomach twist a little. She’d known him for six years, and it wasn’t that she forgot he was from Switzerland so much as she forgot how sexy his voice sounded speaking the language he’d grown up with. Even with her limited understanding of German, she got the distinct impression he sounded more like himself than when he spoke English. 

Rounding the kitchen island, she expected to find him crouched down, talking to one of his siblings on the phone while digging something out of a low drawer. Instead, his phone was nowhere to be found, and he was speaking to Cookie, who had flopped onto his side, happy to be receiving pets. 

“Oh,” she said before she could stop herself. The sight of Nico loving on her cat made her heart thunk into her ribs.

This, right here, is why she originally told him she was staying in the city. 

He had insisted there was no reason she needed to spend the money when he was right across the river. When she’d hesitated, he played his ace, bribing her with Cookie. “You can bring him, and both of you can stay,” he’d said, “you wouldn’t have to leave him with your parents.” 

Even though she knew it would suck to be around him all the time, knowing he didn’t have any interest in her, she’d caved right away.

The problem with Nico was that he was just so damn sweet. He did everything from the bottom of his heart and was genuinely happy to help. As soon as she managed to convince herself she didn’t love him, he would go and do something like insist she stay with him not only for finances, but because she wouldn’t have to leave her cat behind, and feeling would swoop into her heart again.

This was her last undoing for the night. Not only had she watched him carry her things into his apartment, his hockey-hardened body taking the brunt of the weight with ease, she’d had to listen to him laugh and tease while he flashed his dimples at her all day. And now, he was sweet talking her cat in German.

God, how was she going to survive this? 

Nico’s eyes darted up at her noise. He hadn’t heard her come in.  She’d pulled her hair into a bun on the top of her head, but a few of the shorter pieces had escaped, falling around her face. 

Throughout the time he’d known her, her hair had been many different colors. When they met, it had been blonde, then ginger, then purple, then blue. She dyed it back to her natural ashy blonde for a while before going to this pastel pink she’d been maintaining for the last two years. When he asked her why she’d kept it for so long, she said, “I don’t know, it just looks like me.” 

He had to agree. It looked incredible on her, making her skin warm and her hazel eyes bright. 

Wanting yawned in his stomach, and he tore his eyes away before she could see the lovesick expression Jack teased was written all over his face whenever he looked at her. 

“I’m glad to see he’s making himself at home,” Lena said, laughing. 

“He’s sweet,” Nico said, standing. “I thought you’d be in bed.” 

“I wanted to say thanks again,” she said, stepping forward to hug him. 

As his arms wound around her waist, Nico allowed himself a moment of fantasy, imagining she wouldn’t be going to her own room when they turned in for the night. He couldn’t stop his mind from continuing down the fantastical road that living together might be the thing that finally got them from friends over the hill to lovers. 

“I’m happy to have you here,” he said when the fantasy had run its course, and he came back to reality. 

Cookie meowed as if upset at being left out. 

She broke away with a laugh and bent to gather him into her arms. 

“Thank you again,” she said, leaning in to brush a kiss over his cheek.

Nico felt himself go still as stone. He couldn’t remember if she’d ever done that before. 

“G’night.”

“Gute nacht,” he responded, barely holding himself back from waving as his mind was still caught on trying to process the fact that she’d actually kissed him. On the cheek, but still, her lips had been soft and warm, especially against the hard contrast of her nose ring.

He watched her disappear down the hall before he smacked a hand to his forehead. “Gute nacht,” he mocked himself. “You couldn’t think of anything better to say?” 

He was a fool for thinking this was going to work. 

The next thing he had never expected when he invited her to move in came the following morning. 

Lena hadn’t stayed with Nico in his new place before. She couldn’t have. He upgraded to renting the three bedroom apartment in their building when it was finally settled that she would be living with him. That way, he still had a spare room for when family or friends came in town.

The day previous, she’d picked the room closer to his. Had he known — had he thought about it, he would have suggested she take the other one. He could have made up some bullshit excuse about how he didn’t want his snoring to keep her up at night. 

Had he been thinking clearly, he would have noticed that her ensuite bathroom shared a wall with his bedroom. The very wall his headboard sat against. 

As it was now, Lena, always the early riser, was in the shower. Right on the other side of the wall. 

Waking up to the water drumming into the tile, it took him a moment to place the sound. Only when it shifted, quieting and changing rhythm did he realize what was happening - she’d stepped under the water. 

With a sudden jolt, Nico realized that his headboard, some paint, sheetrock, a jumble of studs, and a few dozen white subway tiles were the only things separating him from her naked form. 

The idea of it assaulted his senses until he was half hard and couldn’t think of anything else. 

Cursing, he pulled a pillow over his face and groaned loudly. He couldn’t ask her to move now. He would have to explain why, and he wouldn’t be caught dead telling her he needed her to move because he couldn’t get the image of her naked, water trailing off her hair, dripping onto her breasts and pooling around her feet, out of his mind. 

He groaned into his pillowcase again. 

This went on for a few more minutes before the water changed again, increasing in pressure and beating a staccato rhythm against the tile. A second later, he heard the water shift and change again as well as a gentle thud, as if she’d fallen against the wall. 

Knowing exactly what that meant, he vaulted out of bed, rushing to his own bathroom. He would not jack off to the sound of her in the shower. That was a step too far, but if he let his imagination run, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop himself.  He’d thought of her many, many times while getting himself off over the years, but doing it while she was in his house, very likely getting herself off, felt like a step too far. 

Cold water shocked him back into his senses, and he didn’t let himself think about it anymore. 

Lena stepped out of the shower, feeling much better. Not only did she feel more rested, she was finally able to release some of the sexual frustration that had settled on her like a heavy blanket since arriving. She would have done it the night before, but showering was always part of her morning routine, and in the rush of moving and getting to the bar to meet Nicos team mates, she hadn’t fully unpacked, and couldn’t find her vibrator. She’d tried with her fingers, but it just didn’t work the same way. When she finally fell asleep, she was still feeling frustrated and needy. 

After dressing and putting some dry shampoo in her hair, she walked into the kitchen only to find Nico scooping freshly ground coffee beans into the coffee maker, wearing nothing more than a towel. His hair was still wet, and she watched a rivulet of water wind its way down his back, all the way to the dimples at the base of his spine. Wanting sparked to life between her thighs again. So much for easing the sexual frustration. 

“Morning,” she made herself say, refusing to be the creepy one watching him shirtless, core throbbing at the thought of him. 

Nico jumped, and his hand snagged the towel around his waist before it fell. He thought he had more time. He wouldn’t have come out here in only a towel if he thought she would be out soon. He just wanted to have coffee made for her. 

“I thought you were still in the shower,” he said by way of explanation. 

“How did you know I was in the shower?” 

“It’s right on the other side of my bedroom wall,” he informed her, trying to keep the guilt out of his voice. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuckety fuck, fuck, fuck. 

“Oh,” she said, hoping beyond hope the sound of the water had drowned out the accidental, desperate way she’d moaned his name when her climax finally hit. 

She had to find her vibrator. Maybe she’d pick one up in the city, just in case. She couldn’t be getting herself off in the shower anymore. There was no way. Absolutely no way. Knowing he was on the other side of the wall would shrivel her sex drive like a dried out bean pod. There was no way she could get off to thinking about him, knowing he might be able to hear her, and then she would just be even more frustrated. It didn’t matter if she might find her vibrator unpacking later that day, she decided, she was getting one in the city. Better safe than sorry.

Pushing that idea away to think about later, she accepted the mug of coffee he held out to her. 

“Oat milk, right?” he asked, trying to steer the conversation away from her showers proximity to his bed. “I found this pistachio kind I thought you might like,” he said, rifling in the fridge with one hand, the other still clasping his towel. He needed to pull it tighter but couldn’t with her in the room. At least the cool air was calming his flushed cheeks.

And just like that, the sweetness that was Nico Hischier burrowed its way into her heart again, easing some of the lust back into love. It was incredible how being seen made her feel. Not only with eyes but with words and actions to follow them up. 

No wonder every man she’d dated in the last six years paled in comparison. Nico set an impossible standard for other men to meet. 

And that wasn’t even taking into account the fact that he had the body of a god and the most empathetic, earnest brown eyes she’d ever seen. 

They never even stood a chance.

He found the creamer he’d picked up the last time he was at the grocery. Lena loved all things pistachio, and when he’d seen the non-dairy creamer, he’d automatically put it in his basket for her to try once she got here.

When he turned to her, he had to push away thoughts of kissing her that often came up when he saw her smile the way she was now.

Setting the creamer down, he mumbled, “I’ll be right back,” before practically running to his bedroom. He threw on some shorts and a T-shirt. Coming back in, he found her sitting at the table, looking at her phone as she lifted the coffee mug to her lips. 

“What are you up to today?” 

“I’m going into the city. Find the best subway route to the academy, find my classes, that kind of thing.” Her courses didn’t start for another few days, but Lena knew she would feel better having explored first. 

“If you can wait till I’m done with practice, I can come with you,” he offered. 

Even as he kept his expression neutral, she could hear the undertone of unease in his voice. 

“Nico, I’m going to be going out there by myself every day.”

“But you don’t have to do it alone the first time.”

It wasn’t like he knew the way any better. Lena knew for a fact that he didn’t take to wandering around the city for fun, and if he did, he drove in or took an Uber. Plus, she wouldn’t be able to get her vibrator if he came with her. She didn’t like thinking about the pity she’d find in his face at her inability to find a man to fulfill those needs for her.

“It’s not the first time. I’ve lived in the city before.” 

“For three months when you were twenty,” he reminded. 

“Exactly. It’s not my first rodeo.” 

He never understood that expression. He’d seen a rodeo, and it didn’t seem like the kind of thing someone could grasp after doing it once. It was just another American idiom that always went over his head.

“Nico, I’ll be fine,” she said when he didn’t respond. “I have you on speed dial if I get stuck somewhere, okay?” 

Biting his lip, he tamped down the overprotectiveness rearing up inside him. Lena was smart. She didn’t get herself into trouble. But she was also so pretty, and some men were dogs. 

The look on her face, defiant and determined told him exactly how this was going to end. 

“Okay,” he said with a sigh. “But you’ll call me if you get lost?”

“Yes. I’ll call you if anything comes up.” 

Nico threw himself into practice. Hockey always managed to clear his mind when he was stressed. Even the sound of it - skates scraping the ice, pucks thwacking into sticks and the simpleness of communication - made everything else slip into focus. He didn’t have to worry about being an idiot or saying the wrong thing. He demanded the puck when he needed it and tried to get it into the net. 

Practice was a reprieve from the stress of life. Of all life, all the time. But especially then with Lena in his house. He could skate her out of his mind and focus on simpler things. 

Jonas came up to his stall as he was getting out of his gear. 

“Can I still come get my box?” 

It took a moment for Nico to remember. He’d had left his gaming console at his house a few days ago. “Yeah.” 

When they walked into the house, he found Cookie, right at home, stretched out over the back of the sofa in a sunbeam. 

“Since when do you have a cat? I didn’t think you liked cats.” Jonas asked. 

“He’s Lenas,” Nico corrected. Jonas raised an eyebrow, which Nico chose to ignore. “And I don’t dislike cats. Cookie is sweet.”

“Cookie?” he repeated. “She named her cat Cookie?” 

“Apparently she had a stuffed animal that looked like him named Cookie when she was little,” he explained with a shrug, trailing a hand over the cats silky fur. 

Cookie trilled at him and arched his back for more pets.

The door opened behind them, and Lena herself walked into the apartment, flushed from her walk from the station in the cool autumn air.

Nico tore his eyes away from her before Jonas could give him another raised eyebrow at the look he knew was all over his face.

“Hey, Lena,” Jonas greeted. 

“Hey Jonas,” she said with a big smile, giving him a hug. “It’s good to see you.” 

They’d met in Switzerland a few months before when Lena had come after a trip to Italy with some friends. Her friends had gone home, and she’d caught a train to Bern to spend a few days with him before she had to get back to Canada. It was then that he’d learned about her acceptance into the academy and suggested she should stay with him. 

After she went out and about with Nina, and he finished with training, they had all gone out for dinner and drinks at his favorite place, Tramdepot. Jonas’s girlfriend, Nola, was out of town, and had Nico not known she existed and that Jonas was head over heels for her, he would have been sorely tempted to end the night early so he and Lena would have to stop talking. 

“You can’t be jealous if you’re never going to ask her out,” Nina had admonished him on the way home.

Knowing Lena didn’t speak German allowed him to be open and honest with his sister, even as Lena walked in front of them. 

“She doesn’t date hockey players.” 

Nina gave him a wry look, “she told you that?” 

“No, she told her friend, Jessica. I overheard them.” 

“What exactly did she say?” Nina asked.

“She said, ‘I don’t date hockey players.’ And then Jessica asked, ‘what about Nico?’” 

“And she said?” Nina prompted.

“She said it doesn’t matter.” 

“I think you should still talk to her.” 

“She said it doesn’t matter, Nina,” he said, and there had been an embarrassing amount of whining pain in his voice. 

Nina bit her lip, glancing at Lena, who was walking next to Jonas, asking something about the architecture. 

“I can’t —” his voice had almost broken, “I can’t.” He couldn’t even get the words out. 

He was in love with Lena. He knew that. And it was wonderful and painful and awful all at the same time. But the thought of asking her and having her say no - the thought of asking her and it changing their friendship forever? That was worse than the bitter, lovely pain of being in unrequited love. The idea of losing her was worse than knowing he would never have her in that way. 

“Well, I should get going,” Jonas said, gesturing with the playstation and bringing Nico back to the present.

“I’m sure I’ll see you around,” Lena said, offering him another hug.

After Jonas left, Nico followed her to her room, leaning in the doorway. There were still boxes around, and he noticed a pile of clothes on the floor that she'd obviously pulled out of a box in search of her outfit for the day. He willed his eyes to skip over something lacy and green.

“How was it?” 

“Fine,” she said, setting her tote bag carefully on the bed, making sure it wouldn’t tip over. On top of the vibrator, she’d bought lingerie. Not that she had anyone to wear it for. But the pink set had been on display and matched her hair. She’d asked to try it on on a whim and found she couldn’t leave it behind. Even if it was just for herself, the lace and mesh balconette bra and matching panties made her feel pretty and sexy. So what if no one else ever saw them? She’d know they were there, and that was enough. 

All the same, she didn’t want Nico to see it. The thought of him knowing she’d bought lingerie when he knew she didn’t have anyone to show it off for made heat race to the surface of her skin.  

When it wouldn’t stay upright, she tipped the bag gently, resting it against her pillows so nothing would spill out. 

“Just fine?” he asked, worry edging into his tone. 

“It was good,” she said, turning around. “I found everything fine. I only went three stops in the wrong direction once. My advisor seems nice, and all my classes are right in the academy, so I won’t get lost.” Walking from the room, she changed the subject, “how was practice?” 

“Good,” he dragged a hand down his face, “I think we’re finally starting to gel as a team.” 

“That’s great, Nico.” 

“I hope it comes together before we head to Carolina.” 

“I’m sure it will. If you’re already seeing that now, it’ll only get better in a week, right?” 

He smiled, glad to have her sweet reassurance around. Though she never played hockey - “You would not want to see me on skates. I’m the most uncoordinated disaster of a baby gazelle you’ve ever seen.” - she’d grown up with siblings and friends who play and had a thorough understanding of the game and what it took to win. 

That first month living with her was an awkward dance. When his first road trip came around, it was a relief to get away. He could finally breathe easy, not worried about turning any corner to find her being unassumingly lovely in some new area of the apartment.

But by the second night away, he found himself missing her and missing their evening routine of sipping tea while watching TV. She never complained when he pulled up one of his brothers games or something else Swiss as long as the subtitles were on, and he’d gotten way too sucked in to the ridiculous reality TV show she loved about couples living in a villa together, searching for love. 

That second night, when missing her had settled into his chest in a way he hadn’t yet experienced, he almost turned it on for he and Jonas to watch before bed, just to get some comfort of home back. Instead, he’d tossed the remote to Jonas. Lena said she’d wait to watch it with him when he came back, and he didn’t want to let her down. Plus, he wasn’t totally sure he wanted Jonas knowing he enjoyed such trashy shit.

He missed the steadiness of her presence. He’d gotten so used to living alone, he’d forgotten how nice it was to have someone else in the house. She was always there if he needed a little comfort, offering a hug or a listening ear, or a back rub. 

After he got home, they fell into a comfortable routine, weaving in and out of each other's lives. They would have coffee at the start of each day before she left for classes, and he left for practice. 

In the afternoon, she worked on her art in the living room, and he liked to watch her paint or draw, silhouetted against the large window, if she was still there after he’d taken his nap. 

She cooked dinner most nights. She wasn’t a chef by any means, but she enjoyed cooking, and he was always appreciative, even when something was burned. Plus, she owed him. The money he saved her by not having to pay for housing for a year wasn’t insubstantial. Cooking was a small way she could pay him back on the few nights he was home each week. She’d even made his favorite meal the day after a hard loss. 

He gave her the cold he caught on their second trip. Something, he was sure, he got from Haula’s kids, and they were miserable together for a few days. He woke to her showering in the middle of the night more than once as she tried to clear her sinuses. 

When Halloween came around, he asked if she wanted to go to the team party with him. It was the first time since he’d come to New Jersey he didn’t have to come up with a costume by himself or do something with one of his teammates. He’d had girlfriends before, most of them from Switzerland, but no one who was able to make it to the party.

They spent one of his off weekends figuring out what to wear. Lena was worried about giving people the wrong idea and shot down most of the suggestions that came up on her web search as they were all suited for couples. 

Every time someone asked how long they had been dating, it was like being jabbed with a hot poker; pointing out everything she wanted but didn’t have. 

In the end, they decided to go as people who had been stranded in the desert. She panted their cheeks to look sunburned and put dyed baby powder in their hair and eyebrows to mimic sand. They wore ripped, tan clothing and carried empty canteens. 

When she’d come out of her room, he swore his heart nearly stopped upon seeing the open, artfully dirty button up shirt she wore tied over a tan colored bra. He’d seen her in a swimsuit before, so in theory, he’d seen this much of her skin, but this seemed more intimate than a bathing suit. 

It sparked a new wave of longing in him. 

More than once, Jack gave him an exasperated look when he caught Nico staring at her as she talked with the WAGs. He was obsessing over all the little details of her costume. The way one of her shredded khaki pant legs was higher than the other, showing the tattoo of a paintbrush crossed with a pencil on the inside of her right ankle, the stripe of her smooth low back visible between her shirt and pants, and of course, the flash of her cleavage anytime she turned toward him. 

“You’re gonna have to make it happen, man,” he said, passing by to get another drink. 

It took almost six weeks, but he got used to her fresh faced beauty being around all the time. It didn’t dull necessarily, but like living in a beautiful place, eventually, the beauty fades into the background until the lighting changes and everything is suddenly new and breathtaking again. While she was around all the time, it grew easier for him to push aside. 

On a Saturday in early November, he came home from practice to hear her humming somewhere in the apartment. She wasn’t in the living room - in fact, her drop cloth and easel hadn’t even been set up. 

Opening his mouth to call for her, his greeting died in his throat when he walked into the kitchen. She was in a tight, pink t-shirt, a matching pair of little boy short underwear and nothing else. His eyes were immediately drawn to the round swells of her ass peeking out from under the material. 

He couldn’t look away. Even knowing he should say something, so she didn’t think he was just creepily watching her didn’t help him. 

Forget looking like a creep. He was never forgetting this as long as he lived. 

Lena turned around and jumped. Nico was standing in the kitchen doorway, mouth slightly agape. He’d been quiet as a mouse, and the shock of his sudden appearance sent her sandwich diving off the plate. It opened on its descent and splatted onto the dark tile, meat and condiment side down - because, of course, it did. 

She swore, and it snapped Nico out of his reverie. He dropped to his knees to help clean it up.

As she knelt next to him with a wet rag to wipe the butter off the tile, her bare knee slid into his field of vision.

“I’m sorry I didn't say anything,” he said emphatically, feeling himself blush as he kept his eyes trained on the floor so they wouldn’t travel up the creamy expanse of her thigh.

Shaking her head, Lena stood, hoping he didn’t notice she’d practically turned the same shade as her shirt, “I’m sorry about this,” she said, gesturing to her legs. Of course he had to come home when she wasn’t wearing any pants. The shirt and panties had arrived that morning, and she had been trying them on when she decided to make a sandwich.

Nico looked up and felt his jaw go slack. Somehow, he managed to keep it from falling open. He could clearly see the slope of her breasts and a stripe of her stomach where the shirt didn't quite reach her underwear. He inexplicably wanted to bite the curve of her inner thigh.

He could only blink several times before he managed to look away. Made new in the harsh light of the kitchen, wanting her took over his thoughts, turning him into a bumbling idiot once again.

God, what wouldn’t he give to worship her any way she would let him?

“I didn’t think you were coming home until later. I would have put on pants.”

The fact that she apparently often didn’t wear pants when he wasn’t home burrowed into his brain to torture him later. 

He managed to make some kind of noncommittal noise and stood up. 

Lena scurried to her room, grateful that, at least, she had this new set on, and not a pair of ratty old undies.

She wished she could forget the shocked look on his face when he looked up at her from his knees. She’d envisioned him on his knees before her so many times, but none of those fantasies involved him staring open mouthed at her thighs. 

A week later, as they were watching Love Island, Lena asked a question she never thought she would have to.

“When’s your next night off at home?” 

Nico pulled up his calendar app, and flipped through the days, “Thursday.” 

“Oh.”

“What’s up?” he asked, setting his phone on the side table. 

“I…” Her cheeks flushed, and she bit her lip. 

“What?” he asked, feeling nervous. She was going to tell him she started dating someone, wasn’t she? That she’d met someone while he’d been out of town. The prospect of it roiled in his stomach.

“I thought I had more time,” she said. 

His fantasized dilemma fractured a little. “More time for what?” 

She took in a calming, deep breath, looking up at the ceiling so she didn’t have to look at his face when she said it. “I need to — I need to do a nude study for my figure class.” 

“So? You’ve done nude studies before,” he reminded, thinking about the sketches he’d seen in her portfolio. Part of this intensive training was figure drawing, which he knew she didn’t enjoy, but everything he’d seen looked near perfect to him. Smooth, curved lines, and strong, handsome faces. He didn’t understand what she was so worried about. 

 Professor Brown’s consistent feedback was that her drawings looked too one dimensional, that she wasn’t capturing the living essence of her subjects. She assured the class that, though it would be awkward, their art would be better when they could no longer pretend the person in front of them was a sculpture. The surefire way to do that? Take away the emotional distance between the artist and their model.

“Yeah, but those were with people I’d never met. My professor wants us to do a study with someone we know…preferably of the opposite gender. She said it would make the art more intimate.” Daring to meet his eyes, Lena felt a blush scorch her skin.

Understanding sparked in his face, and she watched his eyes widen. 

“You want me to be your nude model?” 

She licked her lips, “I thought about asking Jesper to do it, but that didn’t seem right.” 

“Why Jes?” he asked, barely keeping the flair of emotion out of his voice. That was the last thing he wanted to hear. Not only was his love for her unrequited, she would be more comfortable sketching one of his teammates. One of his engaged teammates.

“I don’t know. I feel like he wouldn’t be weird about it since the swedes are always so,” she gestured to her own body, “open. But it felt too… intimate when he has Nicole and we’re…us,” she finished lamely, finally daring to look into his face. 

His heart leapt into his throat. 

We’re us? What did that mean? What was us? They were friends? She wanted something more than friendship? Hope reignited in his chest for the millionth time.

He cleared his throat, hoping she couldn’t hear his heart hammering. “What would -” he had to pause to clear his throat again. “What would it involve?” 

“You’d just need to sit or stand for a few hours while I do some sketches.”

“Naked?” he asked, his voice squeaking over the word despite his attempts to stay cool, “or could I wear my boxers?” 

“I need to turn in six sketches, but at least half of them need to be nude, so you would only need to be naked for part of it.” 

He didn’t respond right away, trying to sort out and understand his own racing thoughts.

She nibbled at her lip, “I know it’s kind of a lot to ask.” 

There were so many reasons he wanted to say no, but despite all that, Nico still found himself nodding. He could never say no to her, even if it meant he had to pose naked for her to sketch. 

She felt her cheeks flush again. The thought of seeing him this way had nixed the idea of Jesper from her mind. She didn’t want to sketch his thighs, even if it would be less awkward than sketching Nico. She might never get the chance to see him naked in a romantic setting, so, selfishly, she was seizing the opportunity while she had it. 

“Has to be Thursday?” he asked. 

“Well, sometime in the next week,” she said. “If you’re not comfortable with it, I can ask Jesper.”

“It’s not that,” he said. Too quick, too desperate. If she asked Jesper, it would get around the locker room like wildfire that she’d asked him instead of Nico and on top of not wanting to let her down, he couldn’t take the chirping that would come from that. “It’s just fast.” 

“Do you have another day off?” 

He swiped through his calendar again and shook his head. “We leave for six days after the game on Friday.” 

Her lips pursed together. The flush that was glowing on her cheeks made him smile. At least she was just as nervous as he was. 

“Do you need me to do anything before? Shave or…anything?” he asked, gesturing to his chest.

She hadn't even thought about it. From what she remembered, Nico didn't have a huge amount of chest hair anyway.

She'd known going into this conversation that it would end with at least a fifty percent chance he’d say yes, but when he asked about shaving, it struck her suddenly and completely that she really was about to see him naked.

“Nothing you wouldn’t normally do,” she squeaked.

Nico felt himself smile. If she was going to be this flustered the whole time, maybe this wouldn’t be half bad. 

It Doesn't Matter:

Part I | Part II | Part III | Playlist

To read all my fics, check out my Fanfiction Masterlist

[takemebacktowheniwassane]

i've been seeing a lot of falsettos posts recently deconstructing the fandoms beliefs and firstly

holy fuck thank you, i try to steer clear of fandom (and fandom-izing thereof) drama but this is getting a lot more visible recently so here's some little tidbits for you

whizzer brown is not an unflawed character!

okay so i haven't seen enough dissecting this but!!! in the chess game!

the whole point of marvin using that game to determine the ending of their relationship is because he suspects whizzer is constantly deceiving him and wants to prove it.

whizzer LITERALLY proves him right!

he asks marvin to help him along (yes i know he says he doesn't want help, hear me out, it's a little more complex than that) and takes advantage of the fact that marvin is- like- infatuated with him.

he draws him into a sense of false security then starts throwing accusations at him ("since you need a man!" "what?" "who's 'brainy'," "or witty, move.") until hes able to win, which he does with ease because he's been using marvin having this idea that he isn't smart against him.

of course, marvin's side of this isn't the best either but honestly, for once the fandom should focus on a different character when they think 'insane asshole'. typically we should also probably change our perspectives a little to be more unbiased cuz fr guys, this is getting really.. annoying.

i understand he's the most visibly flawed but that doesn't excuse constantly picking the worst parts of this musical (without other context, btw) to use against him.

and this post certainly isn't here to excuse anyone either i've just got a lot of opinions that i wanted to share while falsettos is.. trending? right?

2. marvin's (headcanoned but still somewhat researched) autism

this one isn't brought up as much but when i do see it around, it's kind of a skewed viewpoint.

while rewatching bits of the proshot i realized a lot of different neurodivergent traits that he shows-

he's helpless during I Never Wanted to Love You and is childish and regressive when he's upset (not every autistic person is like this either, i know this is a bit of a touchy subject so i just wanted to add that).

usually when people depict it i see it either toned down or joked about which is fine when all in good fun, and when its done respectfully.

not here to attack anyone, just here to point it out and say that yes :) he most likely is neurodivergent, but despite that his actions aren't condoned. he's still kinda a dick who needs to get his shit together

3. ..the lesbians also have shit going on?

just putting this out there- I DON'T SEE ENOUGH FOR THE LESBIANS! OR TRINA!

the girls in this musical are like thoroughly neglected and i think that's kind of shitty just assuming the fact that william finn put them in to demonstrate how gender roles put people in degrading positions (and he even makes it more prevalent by showing marvin as something like a misogynistic character who forces whizzer into more feminine roles to show the audience what woman have to/had to go through in society).

anyways, the lesbians aren't just there guys. they have a plotline too. in Something Bad is Happening, you derive a lot from charlotte singing about the outbreak of HIV/AIDS and realize how she operates on a daily basis (she's passionate about her work and takes every bad day as a hit to her life and career, explaining in a way that as a black, jewish, lesbian, FEMALE doctor in this time, everything that goes wrong is immediately brought down on her so much more than it would as any straight white male pharmacist-).

cordelia on the other hand has to handle the fact that her girlfriend is so adamant about her work ethic that she can't actually be super present in their relationship at times like that.

but either way she still sticks by her and is constantly trying to be supportive and endearing despite feeling like she's not amounting to her gf who's basically a hero in her eyes.

i kinda just wanted to bring that up because they mean a lot to me and they don't get enough love from the fanbase, thank you for listening to my TED talk <3

[tossawary]

I'm rewatching "The Phantom Menace" for the first time in years and ??? It really seems like Qui-Gon Jinn could have bargained for both Shmi and Anakin's freedom from the beginning of his wager with Watto???

Qui-Gon later DOES try to bargain for BOTH Shmi and Anakin's freedom, by putting "his" pod up in a second, separate wager. (And I do love that they're lying about where the secret pod came from. Anakin built it, so legally, it's probably actually Watto's. Qui-Gon is being a little crafty!) But Watto insists that no pod is worth TWO slaves and rolls a dice to pick which one (which Qui-Gon manipulates with the Force so that he'll get Anakin over Shmi).

But it doesn't explain why Qui-Gon didn't bargain for their freedom with the initial wager! The Skywalkers are providing the secretly built pod to Qui-Gon and it was Anakin's idea for Qui-Gon to approach Watto about borrowing him as a pilot for the Boonta Eve Classic. This is apparently THE big race on Tatooine and the prize money is worth a LOT (unnamed amount). Watto suggests that they split the prize money 50/50, but Qui-Gon immediately forfeits that, promising that Watto can take ALL OF IT in exchange for the ship parts Qui-Gon needs and if Watto will pay the entrance fee up-front, AND Qui-Gon agrees to give up his own ship if Anakin loses.

This seems... unbalanced? It really feels like Qui-Gon could have leveraged that prize money plus his ship for both Shmi and Anakin. Watto is angry after the race because he bet on Sebulba and "lost everything", but what about the prize money that Qui-Gon forfeited almost entirely to Watto??? And then they sell "Qui-Gon"'s pod (a race-winning pod!) for more money! (And Padmé even says after the race, "We owe you everything, Ani.")

And narratively, I'm not sure what would be greatly harmed by Shmi being free? She's free anyway in the next movie, living on the Lars farm, from what I remember, and the story-important pain for Anakin resolves around her violent death more than her now past enslavement. The movie could have slipped in a brief appearance by the moisture farmer who wants to marry Shmi, but can't because she's not free and he can't afford her freedom, so Shmi once freed stays on Tatooine to get happily married. And Anakin would still be (sadly by Shmi) sent off with the Jedi for a better life than poor moisture farmers on an Outer Rim planet run by gangsters can offer!!! You could still make their separation really sad with some good writing!

I wish the movie had either freed Shmi or been more convincing about why she has to stay in slavery. It really does end up making Qui-Gon Jinn look unlikably careless. Which is, you know, a character flaw and character flaws are fine! But he does other careless things in this movie anyway!

And this also ends up making the Jedi Council look like ASSHOLES when they (a strange group of adults) pressure a 9yo about his fear for his mother's safety and Yoda, instead of offering any guidance on dealing with fear productively, essentially says that fear (perfectly reasonable fear over his future and his mother's future!) is a path to the Dark Side in some weird slippery slope proverb. HIS MOTHER HAS BEEN LEFT IN SLAVERY!!! If Shmi had been left to a happy marriage as a free woman, then MAYBE you would be better able to frame Anakin's attachment as more of a problem, but so much about this scene makes the Jedi Council look utterly unreasonable. And again, it's fine if they're flawed! They can be flawed with their other objections!

But just... LITTLE edits here and there would make a lot about this movie stronger or at least less grating.

[fairiesheart]

Lucy and Juvia's hate feels rooted in misogyny.

Kind of feel like Juvia's hate is rooted in some people just hating to see a female character being so open with falling in love; out of all the complaints I have seen with people who hate Juvia's character, it always reasons related to her just being passionate about romance which for some reason some people see that as backwards writing for women which as a woman myself I don't really agree with. You can have a strong female character who, at the same time, is in love with another character, and it won't take away from her worth. Male characters who are often forward with romance, like Sanji from One Piece, are often well-liked by fans. If you are someone who sees a female character canonically in love with a male character and acts as if they can't stand outside of their ship as an individual, then that sounds like a personal problem. Many female characters, such as Sakura from Naruto (who had feelings for Sasuke), also had their own character arc of wanting to stand alongside her teammates and become a strong healing ninja, but because of this weird negative perception that a woman's only way to be seen as a well-written character is if they don't fall in love there are still people who overlook that Sakura did make several accomplishments as a character.

With Lucy, the hate stems from people who just hate that she has flaws in general. Like I see some people trying to ridicule Lucy for the person she was back at the beginning of Fairy Tail, which is kind of dumb to me, considering she throughout the series and becomes a strong celestial wizard who can open more than 2 gates now, and fight alongside her spirits. Lucy is such an appealing character because she feels very human and relatable; despite her feeling that she isn't one of the strongest members of Team Natsu, we see that she excels in intelligence and navigating strategies that help balance the team. It annoys me that antis will slander Lucy for making mistakes at one point in an early arc or somehow act as if her character isn't good because she loses the fight against Flare back in GMG when, in the final arc, she has trained her magic and was able to fight with her spirits playing a big part in saving END and stopping Aconologia. Lucy's hate feels hypocritical because antis will try to bring her character down for the earlier arcs when she could only watch her spirits fight but stay silent when talking about any of the male characters' flaws in the series. Lucy, if anything, is a prime example of how female characters should be written; a lot of new shounen really misses the mark by not having female characters grow from their flaws, and instead,d we are presented with characters who are already strong with no lacking skills (which as a viewer makes it incredible boring to watch) and hard to be emotionally connected to them.

Anyway, what I'm saying is that both Lucy and Juvia are actually really good characters who deserve tons of love and appreciation.

[myun-saidthoughts]

8TH House Synastry VS 12TH House Synastry

(More Info In my eBook)

The main difference between the 8th and 12th house is that with 12th house synastry, it may be hard for one another to fully know where they truly stand with each other, and the planet person (or the one who has more Pisces/Neptune/12th house influence) might create false narratives or fixate on the desire of saving the house person, and the house person may not know how to respond or won't know how to really articulate how the planet person makes them feel; especially if they feel uncomfortable within their own mind/spiritual self.

12TH House

This post focuses exclusively on a 12th house relationship between two kind and evolved individuals. While there are other darker themes associated with 12th house synastry — such as deception, substance abuse, hidden affairs (like being the other woman or mistress), lies about one partner’s true nature, or fear that one partner is withholding information or their true self — I won’t be discussing those here. I might explore those themes in a future post, as they are important to note, but for now, my main focus will not include those themes.

“Though I barely know you, it feels as if I do. Your eyes and body language seem to speak your thoughts, even the ones I can’t fully grasp. There’s no visible thread connecting us, yet this feeling remains.” — Planet Person

With this synastry, it's likely that the planet person will constantly question and imagine the relationship. It is blurry and somehow the energy between the two of them becomes boundless and confusion can erupt. Both can experience showing up in each others dreams, both can overpower each others thoughts, and they both might find themselves sitting in unexplainable synchronicities that tie themselves to one another.

(Allowing and accepting this energy is the only culprit for deep mutual spiritual occurrences to happen, both parties have to want one another on some level; if not, unrequited love can occur, where one person is emotionally unavailable or distant and the other person has this innate drive to fix, save or love their soul in hopes of healing all of their flaws, which in most cases than not, impossible)

To add, the individual (usually the house person) who struggles with accepting their shadow self may experience a persistent sense that their partner is invasive or somehow withholding important information from them. If they are uncomfortable with embracing this energy, they may perceive it as a violation of their privacy and have an aversion to such intrusiveness from the other person. Now with the other person (usually the planet person) who is more spiritually inclined and open may always question where they stand with them. A part of the planet person is able to just feel how the house person feels (without words) and yet there's no solid, tangible reason to justify or clarify those thoughts or feelings that the planet person has towards them. The house person will ask themselves, "can they actually heal and erase my pain, or will their presence cause me more?"

Both might experience an underlying uncertainty about the true intentions of the other person; making it difficult to discern their genuine feelings or motives. As a result whoever is more affected by this type of intensity might constantly question the authenticity of their relationship, fear might seep in since there's a quiet voice in the back of their mind just whispering to them a false truth they can't make go away, especially if there is a lack in communication or open honesty between the two individuals.

In the extreme sense of it, the intensity of this dynamic can be amplified by an underlying presence of lies or deception, which in turn may affect the relationship. Secrets may become a recurring theme, causing both individuals to hold back certain aspects of themselves or their lives. These secrets may not necessarily be intentionally created, but could arise from external circumstances.

On one side of the spectrum the planet person can either fixate on healing any inner mental struggles the house person subconsciously holds onto. This can become one sided if the other person feels they don't need to be "saved" or "fixed," they might look at them in confusion, wondering what the planet person is holding onto, why they won't let them go, or why they have this drive to heal aspects of them they (the house person) isn't even aware or comfortable with.

So, the shadow side of this synastry depends on the individual. That itself would better showcase how intense 12th house synastry will manifest for each individual. If one is not used to being completely seen past the 3D (for both parties involved), then this would cause uncomfortability. If one is spiritually open and aware about how deep and ethereal this type of love can become, then the chances of dealing with deception or confusion is less likely.

Another aspect that this synastry may manifest is the inclination to hold onto this connection because the house person may believe that the planet person genuinely sees the real them even before they could fully see themselves (but it can also be vice versa; depends). If both are accepting of this love, the planet person can accurately read the house person and vice versa, words are not a necessity when it comes to the two of them, the planet person will know the house person's exact deep rooted innate fears before the house person was even aware they had any. The house persons presence just screams to the planet person's all of their inner mental challenges, and all the planet person wants to do is heal that part of them, the planet person will just know what their soul needs to hear and they want to give the house person that care and reassurance (especially if the planet person has strong attraction on their end/have natal 12th or Pisces placements).

This bond (when wanted on both ends) can create a soul binding connection where the house person would feel like no one else can ever understand them the way the planet person can. No one else would be able to read them like the book they secretly are, no one else can look into their eyes and bring solace into their bones, which in-turn can cause the dynamic between them to consistently become something that is impossible to let go of. How do you let go of the one soul who speaks to the parts of you that you don't even know?

They'll both feel that they've known each others souls before, leaving them to hang on and stay even if it gets destructive. If the energy between them both lack, then constant wavering thoughts and "what if's" can take over, and when the energy between the two of them feels grounded, that type of love is unbeatable and can feel ethereal. The overwhelming level of unexpressed intimacy between the two of them can be especially intense for someone who isn't accustomed to experiencing such boundless love.

Everything is unsaid but between them, there’s just a given understanding of each others inner mental struggles and pain, and having that kind of depth can bring in fear of what it would mean if this person leaves. Therefore self-sabotaging or escapist attitudes can occur, leaving this relationship to enter a side neither of them truly wants.

Be conscious and aware that (especially if you have 12th/Pisces house placements), a part of you wants to be seen without having to say a word, a part of you wants to feel connected to someone mind, body, and soul; and so with that brings in the intensity of this synastry and could be the reason why you choose to stay with someone that can ignite these feelings in you.

(In general to fully grasp how 12th house synastry can manifest, a deeper analysis is usually needed, by understanding your chart and your persons. I have an eBook that perfectly describes and answers almost any question about 12th house synastry so if you'd be interested in learning more about that, the link is pinned on my page).

8TH House

With the 8th house, it is an engulfing type of love. A clear and known relationship with deep intense feelings and emotions. You see it, other people see it and it’s hard to control and hard to let go of.

Usually, instantly, the house person is aware that the lack of planet person will feel like the worst loss there is, but they'll remain indifferent to that consequence. The house person can’t hide their feelings toward planet person, and they can't help but allow their feelings to flood out into the open. They want to showcase their undying desire to have the planet person because the want for them is the deepest thing the house person has have ever felt. A look from them rushes in emotion the house person never knew was possible. This synastry makes the house person accept any and all flaws that they have, and because of that, the loss of them can feel like they are losing a part of themself that they've always wished they could fix.

Nothing is hidden when it comes to this type of synastry, the feelings that preserve can’t help but be outwardly known by everyone in the vicinity of them. The threshold of the vulnerability that the planet person creates in the house person is untouchable. For the house person, nothing else matters but the planet person, and even though they are painfully aware about how transformational the planet person's absence will be, they'll stay anyway.

In another sense of this, if one or both of you struggle with insecurities/fears or have self-worth/value issues then the dynamic between you can erupt power struggles and control issues. The type of control and need one might have depends on how deep the internal pain the individual has (more info in my eBook).

The planet person gives the house person this serene and peaceful feeling where the house person finally can fully accept themself, so if the planet person leaves their presence. the house person will feel a pain that's worse than death; and the culprit behind that is because of fear. Constant battles of power/trust may emerge between the two of them. They' both might share this jealousy that they didn’t know was even possible and especially because without the planet person the house person won’t feel this specific “high” and that alone creates the intense need for them even more.

This intimacy is deep, almost instant, it can't be a lighthearted connection, their actions and the expectations you expect them to uphold too will create these high and lows you can't escape.

Loops and cycles are likely to occur, you will constantly go through ego deaths; you let go of them then you can't, you say you don't miss them then you do.

The love and hate spectrum is constantly wavering over your head, their smallest action can create a ripple effect of intense emotion, you start to depict every thing they have said or done to you, leaving you to go back and fourth with wanting them; to wanting nothing to do with them.

A part of the house person knows that the lack of them would disrupt their peace, yet their soft touch brings them the sense of wholeness and home they've only ever wished they had. If both are accepting of this type of love, they can elicit both the best and the worst aspects of each others character, and if the love for themself is lower than the desire to be loved; they won't be able to walk away.

(Who ever struggles with self love/self value/self worth/or have a broken attachment style because of past partnerships or parents OR has strong Scorpio in their natal chart/8TH house placements/Pluto influence will feel this type of synastry deeply)

This synastry needs desire and attraction on both ends to fully feel the effects of this kind of love, unrequited love can still occur and obsession/obsessiveness can happen on BOTH ends if each person just allows this type of energy in when both of your souls meet

While both types of synastry can bring in intense desire and lust, the differences exude in the type of person you are at your core. The healing (or lack there of) will dictate what type of relationship you'll experience when it comes to this individual.

Moving on or learning to change bad patterns is difficult but through the process of understanding your souls needs, everything else will follow.

(Understanding exact transits, synastry aspects or house overlays between you two will help you better understand if the person you're with share these karmic ties more info in my eBook and the link to purchase is pinned on my page)

[yannaryartside]

SYDNEY'S PART

THE ANALOGY OF THE PARTNER WITH ADDICTION

I just realized this parallel, and I have questions and feelings.

This second scene was one of the most frustrating moments for me, and that is saying a lot. It made me realize the crucial factor that could contribute to Sydcarmy not working despite the underlying feelings and connection.

The scene is obviously about how Sydeny feels guilty for not being able to stand to Carmy and make him stop the chaos. Maybe is also about feeling sad because she doesn't think that he wants to change for her, because if that were the case, he would have done it already. He has verbalized that intention and always, always, leaves her alone and behind (It is hard to keep with you sometimes).

I have been wrestling with the theory that Carmy's and Syd's relationship is acting as an analogy for an addict and their romantic partner. I have been reading this book: Loving someone in recovery. I still need to finish it, but it has given me some ideas. More extended meta-analyses on this subject are coming up. But I wanna concentrate on what the scene is hitting at (I miss ao3).

Notice in Brigade, the woman also says, "until the chemistry changes.", then in the very next scene, you have Sydney decipher a recipe just by chemistry logic, leaving Carmy impressed, and right after, carmy puts Sydney in charge of the restaurant. The clues are all there.

Also, notice how the woman at AA refers to the abuse of substances, but in Carmy's case, it also means abuse in the literal sense, verbal, psychological, and physical abuse.

The show has many scenes in which Sydney treats Carmy's issues with compassion and a firm hand.

"I don't want to be an asshole" "Don't be" aka: I know you know what is right and wrong despite feeling like shit, don't let it get over you.

She keeps her cool while Carmy makes impossible demands and screams. She helps Tina with her dish and completes the task without ever insulting or yelling back at anybody. The toxic techniques that Carmy learned that worked in the culinary industry, she refuses to accept as the norm. She is a chef Terry.

Finding the positive in the worst circumstances, aka, saying Cicero "You are here" or encouraging Richie and the staff. Even reviewing Carmy's recipes with patience and humor

"Is hard to keep with you sometimes' is key word here sometimes, aka: "because the problem is your issues, not you. You are a good person who is deeply hurting, but your actions have consequences for me and the people around you".

The thing is, if we are gonna talk about a partner with addiction, we need to establish the problem (the trauma) and the drugs. I remember watching a movie about addiction, a nurse saying, "Drugs are never the problem (for an addict), they are the solution.

So, the problem (the trauma)

The drug (solution)

You already know my theory that Claire is the equivalent of painkillers/anesthesia. A shallow but pleasing relationship that is always available to attend to your flaws without ever being actual medicine. Because to get better, painkillers are never enough.

BACK TO SYD

Syd really doesn't believe she has a say in what Carmy wants, (God she even believes she is not what Carmy wants, because he wants Claire, that is what it seems to her) just right before this dialogue, she asks him "Do you want me to say something?", from reading the book, it really reminded me of a partner feeling abandoned when the addict would resource to their drug of use to feel good or set back to old habits. That would leave the partner frustrated, depressed, and angry.

To be fair, the fact that Carmy is his boss should be added to the equation. They cannot even be called friends, so why should Sydney say something? Carmy is 24/7 in defense mode, saying things like "You don't have to say it, I already know."

He offered Syd equal partnership, but she didn’t get it. If they had been equal partners she definitely has the power to say something. But she didn’t take the offer, maybe because she suspected (or feared) they would never be on equal ground.

THE KEY QUESTION IS, WHAT DOES SYDNEY SAY?

I am genuinely curious about this. Is Syd (or her leaving) supposed to be a wake-up call to Carmy? That he fucked up something that brought him genuine joy and connection because Syd knew the real him, while Claire liked Logan and Carmy's brokenness? The way Claire would enable him in his bad tendencies? How is he gonna realize all that?

Sydney needs more emotional resources when it comes to conflict resolution. So far, her techniques have been using patience and love (water) against toxicity and bad patterns (fire). There is definitely a need for that. That is what turned everybody around and helped them become their best selves. But it has a toll. And she started the season with "I don't know what the fuck to do right now" and ended the season without a solution. Maybe walking away is the solution.

SYDNEY'S PART

What could this mean for Syd? Sydney may confront Carmy or not. I guess we will have to see.

[slowcatsworld]

Noel Noa would let his spouse do his eyeliner for him sometimes

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(It’s so canon that he wears eyeliner, I don’t care none of that ‘oh it’s natural’ bs my man is a cat-eye winged baddie)

I doubt he wore it when he was in the slums of France. He probably started using eyeliner regularly when he got recruited to a smaller team, his first real opportunity to change his life. Maybe he wears it because he likes the feeling of empowerment and belonging the dramatic flare the eyeliner brings to him. Maybe he wears it as a safety precaution, something to hide the flaws only he sees, and doesn’t realize it yet. Maybe he wanted to be remembered, to stand out. Not to be identified as the poor, improper, uneducated boy with potential, to be a beast of a football player that stands next to no one. A man that was worth more than the dirty slums. If they wouldn’t remember his name or his abilities, they would remember the cold, (desperate) hungry gleam in his amber eyes encased in a cut of harsh black liner.

Whatever the case, the eyeliner has stuck with him for years. Even you, his spouse that shares a home with him, hardly see Noel without it. Due to his profession, his training and competition often ensured that Noel would rise out of bed before you and sink back into bed after you. You don’t mind though, treasuring your time with Noel comes in small but rewarding moments.

Like this morning.

Noel was to be at the airport in a few hours to fly to Japan from Germany with his team, Bastard Munchen. Apparently their presence is required for the next phase of the ‘Blue Lock’ program. You heard of it, having one foot in the football world at all times because of Noel; however no one in the world would have expected the upset that was the U-20 game held in Japan a couple weeks ago.

You weren’t too fond of the idea of Noel staying at the Blue Lock facility for the foreseeable future, and you could tell by his attitude neither was he. This ‘Neo Egoist League’ he mentioned sounded like one big round robin experiment to find players for the U-20 World Cup. Something only weeks away. The whole thing was like a dream, you just couldn’t tell if it would be a good one or a bad one. Seems as though the whole world will have to figure out together as very few are privy to know what is happening inside Blue Lock as of now.

Despite his protests in favor of you sleeping in, you decided to accompany and see Noel off.

“Noel, I’m not able to come with you. This will be the last morning I get to spend with you for weeks.” You stress to the figure washing his face in your shared bathroom.

“You still have to go to work later today, you need to sleep. No one wants to deal with an employer that can’t keep their eyes open for five minutes.” Noel calls.

“I’ll be fine, I’m a grown woman who can handle a little sleepiness,” You groan and stride to the bathroom. “You’re one to talk on the matter in fact, I can see your eye bags from here.”

The two of you lock eyes and enter a silent competition. Noel refuses to admit his sleep has been plagued with thoughts about the Blue Lock situation and wishes for you to return to bed. You are unrelenting in your efforts of spending this time with him and do not want to lay in a bed getting colder by the minute.

Noel sighs. Victory. You 1, Noel 0.

“Perhaps then you should do my eyeliner today, to lessen the appearance of my eye bags to your satisfactory.” He mumbles and holds his hand out with the marker in tow. An olive branch. A gleaming smile breaks upon your face.

There was something very private, very intimate for Noel when he allowed for you to do his eyeliner. Him leaning against the counter facing you, you between his legs holding his face. It was about trust. It was about vulnerability. Even if Noel wouldn’t admit it to you, he was giving you access to that little boy covered in dirt and bruises all those years ago. You knew it too, the way his face would lean into the skin of your palm as you held him steady. The way his shoulders would relax and his posture would slack. The way his eyes would close and twitch ever so slightly when they felt the ink from the marker. You knew you were holding the boy right now, not the man.

You’ve seen the boy a good handful of times. In the crux of the night when Noel would hold your body closer to him. In the evening husk when you would massage his body and play with his thick tufts of white hair. In the middle of the day; when you could hear the smile in his voice even if it wasn’t present in his face as he called you on your lunch break. And in the morning, when you did his eyeliner.

And you were oh so fragile with him. He appreciated it greatly, the warm feeling that flowed through his veins. It complimented the confidence the eyeliner gave him perfectly.

Once you finished you pressed a chaste kiss to his nose, then one on his lips. He sighed slightly at the feeling of your lips touching. The momentary solace building his energy that the night had sapped away from him instead of rejuvenating home with. You rubbed your thumbs through his wispy white eyebrow hairs and waited. Noel slowly opened his eyes, and looked at the small smile adorning your face.

His eye bags were still present, he still carried that essence of tiredness. But there was more life in his eyes. They glowed brighter, more whimsical than before. It was the perfect blend of boy and man.

“Thank you, Y/N.” The man said. For everything. The boy thought.

He couldn’t verbalize it, not now. His emotions would over take him, and he can’t afford that at this moment. Not when he’s about to part from you for so long. He had to be the man.

You understood though, you always do.

“Always, my love.”

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AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

I HOPE WHOEVER READS THIS EATS THIS UP BC I PUT MY WHOLE SOUL INTO COOKING THIS

8.02.24

[thekatebridgerton]

More reasons why I love Sophie Beckett

So it’s no secret in this blog that I love Sophie as a character, she is very close to my heart and on my bad days I find strength in characters like her because she is so well written. The thing I admire the most about Sophie, is that she didn’t let her circumstances break her, or harden her into becoming jaded and cynical. Sophie endured terrible circumstances, she knew she was unwanted, unloved, and had no resources to escape her terrible situation. The servants who treated her marginally better than Araminta and her family, either left or were let go because Araminta was a terrible mistress. Sophie was alone in a hostile environment with little hope of rescue. The love of her life was a wonderful man whose fatal flaw was that he thought he could buy her and believed that she should be satisfied with such offer.

And yet Sophie never stopped being kind, she didn’t let those things define her, she continued to hope and to believe and to endure, because she refused to let Araminta or her absent father break her spirit, she refused to let Benedict’s persistence make her into something she wasn’t, she continued to silently fight,  until she got out, and when she finally got out, she took Posey with her, because once she was in a position to help, she did.

I need characters like her, because in Sophie, her kindness, compassion and consideration isn’t a weakness. She’s strong because she has managed to retain all those things even in a circumstance where any other woman would have lost their optimism. In a world of cynical heroines, Sophie is cheerful. She never feels sorry for herself, she doesn’t blame things beyond her control for her misfortunes and she just keeps moving forward with hope. She is confident enough in her worth as a person, to demand the same respect from Benedict. Araminta tried to take that away, the world tried to take that away, they wanted to Sophie to feel worthless, which was a common thing among illegitimate women, who thought being a mistress was enough to survive. But Sophie knew she could keep going regardless. She knew she was a good person, she knew she was worth more than her bastard status, and her penniless circumstances and if that meant standing up to Benedict and refusing to be his mistress then so be it.

And I just want to see that on screen. We need more characters like Sophie. A character who’s only superpower, and deus ex machina, is having such a big heart, that she’s able to overcome tough circumstances and reach for her happy ending without compromising the kind and loving essence of who she is.

 And that’s the tea.