#not in the curious way I mean the condescending way. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sunni-stuff · 5 months ago

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People are judgmental. Some think they aren't, others don't mean to be, and then there are those who do it on purpose and simply don't care.

Parents are guilty of this.

Parents who pay you to teach their kids do this.

But the worst offenders?

Wives.

Particularly those with too much free time—gossiping Gertrude's who'd rather nitpick and judge than deal with the boredom of daytime TV and their kids screaming in the background. You’ve dealt with a handful before—a crack in the system that always rippled right under your skin whenever one of those vultures threw out a backhanded compliment.

“You’re so patient with the kids. I could never do what you do—how do you even manage?”

“Must be nice having all that time off during the summer. A little vacation every year, huh?”

“Teaching must be so rewarding. Though I imagine it’s not really about the money, is it?”

Each one, a subtle dig disguised as flattery, like they couldn’t help but twist the knife just a little deeper.

If there was one thing you’d learned about this job, it was to always kill them with kindness. The rumor mill among parents was ruthless, and the wrong rumor could ripple out and jeopardize your career. So, you’d mastered the art of the polite smile, the well-timed thank you, and the effortless small talk. It was a strategy that had served you well, keeping any overly curious mothers at bay.

Still, these women were relentless. They circled like hawks, always looking for an opening to pry into your life or make veiled comments about your parenting. You’d never given them the satisfaction of slipping up—until the day you almost did.

The sun was setting, the air brisk and tinged with the promise of winter as parents gathered their children. Little voices chattered away as teachers handed over day charts, neatly summarizing each child’s activities. Standing at the cubbies, you were bundling up Adira. Her small frame was snug in her sweater, jacket zipped up to her chin, and scarf tucked securely around her neck. She fidgeted as you worked, barely able to stay still with how much excitement bubbled in her tiny frame.

Her voice was high-pitched and animated as she launched into a story, her words tumbling over each other in her eagerness to share. “Messy man said, we play trains when he comes back!” she chirped, her dark eyes wide with delight.

You paused, your fingers lingering on the last button of her jacket. A soft smile tugged at your lips as you straightened her scarf. “Oh, did he now?”

Adira nodded vigorously, her curls bouncing. “Yep! He said, “Adira, we make the best train track ever!” Her imitation of Simon’s deep voice was laughably exaggerated, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.” We gonna play with the biiig track!” She spread her arms wide for emphasis, nearly toppling over from the effort.

The mention of Simon was enough to draw some attention from the other parents nearby. You could feel their eyes darting your way, their curiosity almost palpable. Simon’s occasional appearances to pick up Adira hadn’t gone unnoticed, and the whispers had already started. Who was this tall, broad man with a thick accent? Was he Adira’s father? A boyfriend? The air was thick with silent speculation.

Ignoring the countless eyes and ears listening in on your harmless conversation, you assured Adira. “Well, if messy man promised, he’ll keep it,” Simon had made it clear that he intended to be a constant presence in Adira’s life, and so far, he’d stuck to his word.

As you stood and picked up her small bag, a sharp voice interrupted the moment.

"Well, aren’t you just the picture-perfect little family?”

Your polite smile returned instantly, masking the irritation that flared at the condescending tone. Turning, you saw one of the daycare moms—Linda, if you remembered correctly—standing there with her perfectly manicured nails wrapped around her designer purse. Her son trailed behind her, nose buried in a tablet.

“Evening, Linda,” you said evenly, keeping your tone light. “How’s Ethan doing?

She waved a dismissive hand, her eyes already scanning Adira with that overly curious gaze that made your skin crawl. “Oh, he’s fine. But I couldn’t help overhearing... this ‘Messy man’ your little one mentioned. Is he... new in your life?”

Ah, there it was—the opening she was fishing for.

Adira, oblivious to the undercurrents of adult conversation, grinned up at Linda uncharacteristically, the joy she felt for Simon completely expunging her normal glaring behavior. “Messy man makes pancakes! But they go splat!” She threw her hands out dramatically, mimicking the chaos Simon often caused in the kitchen.

Goddammit, poor Adira revealed too much to the wrong person, and you could already see the cogs turning in Linda's head. Forcing a chuckle, you reached for Adira’s hand. “Messy man is her nickname for Simon, her dad. He’s stationed overseas, so she gets pretty excited when he’s home.”

Linda’s perfectly arched eyebrow lifted slightly, clearly surprised. “Oh, I see. Military man, huh? I suppose that explains why we’ve never seen him around.”

You gave Linda your most neutral expression, taking notice of the other moms matching from behind her. “He’s been busy, but he’s doing his best to be here when he can.”

"Oh, I see. I simply would've never guessed you were married. You never wear a ring," Linda remarked, her tone dripping with subtle judgment.

You knew what she was doing. It was a carefully laid trap, baited to catch you in a corner. If you rebuffed her comment, if you made a scene, it would only give her more ammunition to spread rumors. These women didn’t care for nuances; they thrived on gossip, and the topic of marriage—or rather, the lack of a visible wedding ring—would be a field day for them. They’d ride that horse straight to hell, and you'd be left cleaning up the mess.

With the growing number of parents in earshot, you understood that this wasn’t just a comment; it was a test. You had to choose your words carefully. It wasn’t just about keeping things smooth in the moment—it was about protecting your future.

You gave a small, practiced smile, maintaining your composure as you slipped Adira’s bag onto your shoulder. “I don’t wear my ring because I work with children. It could get caught in their hair, or worse, I could lose it.” You met her gaze with a calm confidence that bordered on dismissive.

“That’s understandable, dear. We all have kids after all!” Lina laughed, her tone attempting to sound warm and genuine, but it was too polished, too forced. The laughter rang hollow, like a poorly executed attempt to mask her true intentions. “Does this mean we’ll finally get to meet him at the fundraiser this weekend? We’ve all been here for so long, and not a single glimpse of your beloved other half. Right, ladies?”

Her words floated in the air, sharp with insinuation. The smile she wore was one of practiced sweetness, but the glint in her eyes was anything but kind. She knew what she was doing—attempting to pull you further into her web, hoping to get a reaction that would either reveal more or, better yet, give her ammunition to fuel the rumors she clearly wanted to start.

A few of the other women murmured in agreement, their eyes flicking from you to each other, already whispering amongst themselves. They were all waiting for a response, and the pressure began to build in the pit of your stomach.

“Yes, he is.” The words slipped out of your mouth before you could even process them, your own response surprising you as much as it did the group of wives surrounding you. You felt a jolt in your chest, your heart picking up pace as the reality of what you had just said began to sink in. What the fuck did you just do?

The laughter from Linda faltered for a split second, her eyes narrowing slightly as she processed your words. The others exchanged glances, some of their faces lighting up with an almost predatory curiosity, while others masked their thoughts behind polite smiles. You could almost hear the gears turning in their heads—oh, this was going to be something they could use.

The tension in the air thickened, and you suddenly felt exposed, as if every secret you’d carefully kept tucked away was now dangling on the edge of a cliff. You’d just handed them the perfect piece of gossip, but what would it lead to? Would they use it against you, twist it into something worse? You hadn’t planned for any of this—hell, you hadn't even planned on saying anything at all—but now that it was out there, you had to somehow steer this conversation.

You had to control the narrative, or risk letting it spiral completely out of your hands.

Your mind races, trying to formulate a response, but everything seems so loud—your thoughts, the laughter, the eyes watching you. How could you backpedal without it seeming like a lie? How could you walk that fine line between the truth and keeping your personal life hidden?

"Yes, Simon’s coming," you added quickly, trying to steady your breath. "But, you know... he’s not really into the whole fundraiser thing. He’s more of a stay-at-home guy, a bit of a quiet one, really. I’ll be there though, and we’re looking forward to it." You tried to sound casual, but the flicker of doubt in your voice betrayed you.

The women around you didn’t miss a beat, though. The moment had been set, and now it was only a matter of what they would do with the information.

“Well, I look forward to seeing you.” Lina’s voice was dripping with a false sweetness, and you could feel the weight of her gaze as she gave you one last look. Her eyes lingered a bit longer than necessary, as if trying to peel back layers, searching for some crack to exploit. Then, with a nod, she steered Ethan away, her entourage of women following closely behind, their chatter rising in the air like a distant murmur. The click of their heels echoed as they disappeared down the hall, leaving you standing there, frozen in place.

"And so, that's what happened," you finished, your voice trailing off as you leaned against the kitchen counter, trying to gauge Simon's reaction.

Simon blinked up at you from where he was sitting on the floor, his focus still mostly on Adira, who was happily arranging her toy train with her blocks, making a makeshift kingdom. He didn’t seem phased, just a little confused. "You want me to pretend to be your husband?"

The question hung in the air for a moment before he let out a chuckle, shaking his head slightly, his eyes filled with that familiar warmth. "Out of all the things I've done in my life, this has to be the funniest, love.”

You blinked, momentarily thrown by the unexpected nickname. It felt oddly intimate, a shift in the dynamic between you and Simon that you hadn’t anticipated. Love. It wasn't what you'd expected to hear from him, not in this context, not when everything felt so messy and uncertain. But there it was, slipping out so naturally from him, like he'd always called you that, like he'd been in your life much longer than he really had.

Your heart skipped a beat, the sound of Adira’s laughter in the background making the moment feel surreal. It should have been funny—this whole situation, with you essentially asking Simon to pretend to be your husband for the sake of those gossiping women. But instead, you felt something else, something soft and unfamiliar tightening in your chest.

“Did you just call me that?” You couldn't help but ask, your voice a little quieter than you intended.

Simon paused, his playful smile faltering for a second as he caught the look on your face. “I—yeah, I guess I did,” he replied, his tone a touch more uncertain now. He glanced down at Adira, who was happily stacking blocks at his feet, then back to you. “It was just a slip of the tongue. Didn’t mean anything weird by it.”

“I’m not exactly husband material, you know,” he added lightly, his voice teasing. “I’m more of a... messy man.”

You chuckled at that, shaking your head. "A messy man, huh?"

He nodded, grinning. “Yeah, but I’m good at it. Just ask Adira.”

Adira, hearing her name, immediately let out a squeal of approval. “Messy man!” she giggled, throwing a block in Simon’s direction, her tiny hand pointing at him with delight.

"So, what's the plan here then?" That easy grin back on his face, his eyes still dancing with humor, but there was something underneath it—something you couldn’t quite place. “You want me to just walk into a room and act like we’re a picture-perfect couple?”

The way he said it made you laugh a little, though there was a slight edge of uncertainty to it. You found yourself shifting uncomfortably, knowing you had no real plan for what came next. It wasn’t like you had a relationship with Simon beyond the occasional dinner and time spent with Adira, and yet, here you were, asking him to play a role in your life, one that might end up blurring lines you didn’t fully understand.

“Well, you don’t have to pretend, exactly,” you said, running a hand through your hair, suddenly feeling all the weight of the day settling in. “I just... I just need you to be there. You know, to back me up, to—” You paused, glancing over at Simon again. “I guess I just don’t want them thinking I’m alone in all of this. It’s bad enough that has already started.”

Simon’s gaze softened as he leaned back in his seat, watching you with a quiet understanding. "You're not alone in this," he said, his voice steady. “And I’m here. You don’t need a ring or a title for that.”

The sincerity in his tone made your chest tighten again, but this time it was different. His words weren’t a joke or a half-hearted attempt to make you feel better—they were real. He was offering something more than just pretending for the sake of others. He was offering his presence, his support.

For a moment, you forgot about everything else. The plans, the expectations, the pressure. Instead, all that mattered was Simon sitting across from you, smiling at you like you weren't asking for something too much, like it wasn’t strange to think of him in your life like this.

“Thank you,” you murmured. "Really."

He gave a small nod, then grinned, shifting his attention back to Adira, who had managed to get half the blocks stacked to an impressive height. “It’s nothing. Besides, I think Adira’s got the best part of this deal anyway.”

You glanced over at your daughter, who was watching both of you with wide eyes, a smile tugging at her lips. Adira was your source of strength, a beacon that pushed you forward, her smile alone gave you determination. “Alright, let’s figure out what married people do.”

"I know just who to call." Simon reached for his phone, the battered thing covered in scratches, an old case and sporting a broken screen from a hazardous drop. Upon seeing it, the first thought running through your head was, how the fuck was it still usable?

Price’s living room radiated warmth and history, a perfect mix of domestic coziness and military precision. The centerpiece was a sturdy stone fireplace, its mantle adorned with framed photos of Price and his wife, Melanie. In some, they stood arm in arm at scenic locations; in others, Price was in uniform, the edges of his cap sharp against the backdrop of distant skies. Above the fireplace hung a shadow box displaying medals and insignias, each one polished to a shine, speaking volumes about his service.

Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with everything from military strategy texts to well-worn novels. On one shelf sat a small globe and a model of a Spitfire plane, a nod to his admiration for history. A comfortable, overstuffed armchair, complete with a folded tartan blanket, sat near the fire. The coffee table bore faint scratches, evidence of years of use, and atop it lay an open newspaper, a mug of tea, and a small dish of biscuits.

You sat stiffly on the plush sofa, feeling distinctly out of place amidst this blend of home and honor. The ticking of a grandfather clock in the corner filled the silence as you watched Simon talk to Price in the adjoining kitchen. Occasionally, their eyes flicked toward you, and you pretended not to notice, your gaze wandering instead to a black-and-white photo of a younger Price standing with a group of soldiers, all grinning ear to ear.

The awkwardness of the situation weighed on you like a heavy blanket. This wasn’t exactly how you envisioned your day—asking Price, of all people, to help stage your fake relationship. But you were in too deep now to back out.

In the kitchen, Price rubbed his hand over his mouth, barely concealing the grin that tugged at his lips. A low chuckle escaped as he grabbed a cup of coffee, shaking his head at Simon, who stood across from him, arms folded, his expression far more serious than the moment warranted.

“You want me and Mel to help you two seem like a couple? That right?” Price’s voice carried an unmistakable note of amusement, his words tinged with disbelief.

Simon shifted his weight, rolling his shoulders back, clearly trying to maintain some semblance of dignity. "Yes, that’s the gist of it."

Price’s laughter broke free, a warm, hearty sound that echoed off the kitchen tiles. “Bloody hell, Simon. You’ve seen action all over the world, but this—this is what’s got you nervous?” He clapped a hand on Simon’s shoulder, his grin wide enough to light the room. “You’re in for a treat, mate. Melanie’s going to love this.”

From your seat, you caught Price’s amused glance, and you couldn’t help the way your face heated. This was going to be a long evening.

Price, still chuckling, crossed the room to the wide bay window, pushing it open with ease. The crisp evening air drifted in, carrying with it the scent of freshly cut grass and the faint hum of distant crickets. He leaned out slightly, cupping his hands around his mouth.

“Mel! Come on inside, love. You’ve got to hear this one,” he called, his voice carrying easily over the quiet of their backyard.

From where you sat, you caught a glimpse of Melanie in the garden. She was tending to a neat row of vibrant flowers, her hands gloved and a straw hat perched on her head. At the sound of Price’s voice, she straightened up, brushing dirt off her knees with a curious look on her face.

“Be right there!” she replied, her voice warm and lilting. She removed her gloves, tucking them into her apron pocket as she began making her way toward the house.

Price turned back to Simon, shaking his head in mock disbelief. “You better hope Mel doesn’t laugh you out of the house, mate.”

Simon groaned softly, rubbing his temples. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Price.”

Moments later, Melanie stepped into the living room, a radiant smile lighting up her face. She was the epitome of grace, her presence immediately softening the room’s atmosphere. Her gaze shifted between you, Simon, and her husband, her curiosity evident.

“What’s all this about, then?” she asked, removing her hat and setting it on a nearby chair. “You’ve got that mischievous look again, John.”

Price grinned, gesturing toward you and Simon. “These two need a favor, Mel. A big one.”

Melanie’s brows lifted as she looked between the two of you. “Oh? Do tell.”

Simon, looking equal parts determined and mortified, cleared his throat. “We... need help convincing a group of nosy parents that we’re married. Long story.”

Melanie’s smile widened as her eyes twinkled with amusement. “Oh, this sounds rich. Go on, I’m listening.”

You shifted in your seat, feeling the warmth of Melanie’s gaze settle on you. Her smile was kind but tinged with unmistakable amusement, and it was clear she was holding back a laugh as she took in your flustered state.

“Well,” you began hesitantly, clasping your hands together in your lap. “It’s a bit of a mess, really. One of the moms at the daycare cornered me, started asking questions about Simon, and… I might’ve let it slip that we’re married. Which we’re not. Obviously.” Your words tumbled out in a rush, and you glanced at Simon for backup. He was rubbing the back of his neck, caught between exasperation and amusement.

Melanie let out a soft laugh and gracefully sat down beside you on the couch. “Ah, I see. And now you need to sell the story before it falls apart. Oh, love, I’ve been in a similar pickle—not quite like this, but close enough.”

“See?” Price chimed in from his armchair, leaning back with an amused grin. “Told you Mel would get a kick out of this.”

Simon shot him a flat look. “Not exactly the reaction I was hoping for, mate.”

Melanie waved a dismissive hand at Price before patting your knee in a reassuring gesture. “Don’t mind him. Now, let’s think this through. If you’re going to convince anyone, you need to act the part. People pick up on the smallest details—how you talk to each other, how comfortable you seem together. If you’re too stiff, they’ll see right through it.”

Simon leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees as he nodded. “Alright, so what do we need to do? We’ve got about a week before the fundraiser, so I’m open to ideas.”

Melanie’s eyes lit up with a mix of mischief and determination. “Perfect. We’ll start with body language—how you interact without saying a word. And then we’ll move on to the conversational stuff. You’ll need to know each other’s habits, quirks, and all those little details married couples just know.”

Price clapped his hands together with mock enthusiasm, a cheeky grin plastered across his face. “Right, then. Let the awkward training sessions begin. This’ll be one for the books.”

You groaned inwardly, glancing between Simon and Melanie. This bizarre charade was only just beginning, and while you couldn’t imagine where it would lead, one thing was clear—you were in for a wild ride.

Happy new years friends! The holidays were a riot and I spent most of it spending time with family instead of writing as I felt kind of burnt out from writing in November, sorry about that but I hope this makes up for it.

@midnight-blue-moon-princess @pipedream411 @frogofrg @loonagabs @ghostlythots @vixenshiftsvrs @devoetee @shorty-tolentino @aethelwyneleigh27 @ayesha-eroticax3 @emilia527 @danielle143 @maniacalbooper @awildewit @gifted-aurora @teenagellamaangel @julesjunimos @tacticalgirlboss @midnights-song @suzuki-18 @t3a-bag @latencygirl @krispymagazinepizza-blog @harperdoodle @odettecigno @sockertop @arrozyfrijoles23 @lovelystarfish @my-little-evil-blog @imastorytelleritsondvd @l1lpip @cringeycookies @identity2212 @balletbiscuit @mulletmcghee @maciswack @littleracco0n @oliver-1270 @weemansoap @cryingpages @connorsui @beebeechaos @gluttonybiscuits @strawberrygato @sozainturpal @echo9821 @blinca @illusionistlover @blubearxy @superficialfeelings @new-author3 @xanvasy @oniiloma @bankaixx @evie-199 @notsochillnerd @thatpersonnamedrook @hon3y-cloud @jaguarthecat @reinekoya @apixasflora @a-lovers-card @gloriousloveduck @aetherthetrashpanda @princess-vibes25 @vickykazuya @enfppuff @liliannamae @m0chac0ffee @flamehero-phoenix @bean-cream @realizemandi97 @almostdecadentstarfish @lunamoonbby

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley #we meet again

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inlovewithquestionablecharacters · 16 days ago

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John Walker X Reader: Code Yellow

a/n: hated this little fucker in fatws but thunderbolts made me feral for him (i probably have issues i know)

Warnings: smut, sex pollen (because i love this shit), penetration (p in v), oral (f receiving), begging, kissing, cursing, sexual activity, friends to lovers (maybe?), mutual pining, hidden feelings, no use of y/n, f!reader.

Word count: 3.1K (well that happened)

Oh, this was bad. This was very, very bad. The dust was fucking everywhere. If you hadn’t inhaled it—which you 100% had—you’d still be fucked, because it had come in contact with your skin. It was in you now, and you were very screwed.

This was a simple mission. All you had to do was sneak into the lab, see if any of the scientists were still around, and take them out. If they weren’t, you just needed to mess around with some reports and go back to the Watchtower. It was initially supposed to be Yelena’s mission, but once you found out it was connected to the Red Room, you’d told her absolutely not.

It was a touchy subject, and Yelena was more than willing to go through her trauma to get the job done—but it felt unnecessary to send her if you could go in her place. Yelena had accepted your suggestion, but not before giving you explicit instructions.

“Don’t touch the yellow vials.” “Why? What are they?” “Just trust me. You don’t want that stuff in your system.”

You looked down at your hands, eyes tracing over where the yellow powder clung to your skin. You hadn’t done it on purpose. The shelf had been in the way, and when you attempted to move it, everything came spilling out onto the floor. You were surrounded by pieces of broken glass and yellow dust.

John had heard the crashing sound, causing him to run out from the room he’d been exploring. His eyes searched for you, expecting you to be in some sort of trouble. But when he finally found your frame, you were just standing still and staring at the floor.

“Hey, you okay?”

Your head snapped up at the sound of his voice, eyes wide as he started to move toward you.

“No! Don’t come closer!”

John stared at you, his body stilling. The desperation in your voice surprised him. You were normally the cool and collected one on missions. Nothing seemed to faze you. But now you looked scared, and that made anxiety spike in John’s system. He watched you look from him to the floor and then back to him. He could tell you were trying to think, so he stayed quiet.

“You need to get out of here.”

“What? No, we—”

“John, shut up!”

Okay, so something was definitely wrong. Walker was an annoying person to work with. He was sarcastic and condescending, but you two always managed to get along. Out of the team, you were the one that least hated working with him. You knew how to handle his mean comments, and he knew how to understand your silent requests.

The way you were behaving wasn’t how you normally acted during missions, so that meant something bad had happened. Walker moved to get closer to you, but you gave him a wide stare, telling him to stop without ever opening your mouth.

“Tell me what’s going on.”

You sighed.

“I spilled some fucking powder.”

John’s face broke into a grin, lips parting to make a joke.

“It’s not funny, John.”

That stopped him in his tracks. Your voice was raw against your throat. Your body shook, and he could tell you were frightened.

“Sorry. Force of habit. Just let me come over there and we can figure it out.”

“No. You have to—” Heat blossomed in your chest, making you close your eyes. Fuck. It was starting. You didn’t know if it would affect John too—him being a super soldier and all—but knowing the Red Room, you didn’t rule out the possibility. You had to get him out of the room before the effects took over your brain and you did something you’d regret later. You let out a shaky sigh, forcing yourself to look at John.

“It’s a sex pollen, John. Lena told me to avoid the yellow stuff, so I got curious and did some research. They made it to help people get horny so they’d be able to sleep with a target if needed.”

John’s eyes raked over your body, observing how much powder clung to your suit and skin. Every time he looked at you, your body longed to close the distance. You pinched your hand, forcing yourself to stay put. The smell of him was overwhelming.

“I need you to get out of here. I don’t know what it’s going to make me do if you’re in the room with me. It’s already starting to become unbearable.”

“You won’t die from it, right?”

The question surprised you. You hadn’t expected Walker to care about your well-being. The thoughtfulness made your core clench.

“No. I’ll just be uncomfortable for a while.”

“How long is a while?”

You bit into your cheek.

“Eight hours.”

“Jesus.”

John looked up at you. There was already sweat forming on your face, and your skin itched beneath your suit. You wanted to rip it off your body. But not while he was still here.

“Please, John, just wait outside. Or go back to the Tower and send backup in a few hours—I don’t know. I just need you to get out.”

“I’m not leaving you. I’ll wait outside the door.”

“Okay.”

John made his way toward the door, pausing as you called out his name.

“Yeah?”

“Whatever I say—don’t come in here.”

John nodded and left the room, closing the door behind him.

You didn’t know how much time had passed. The rational part of your brain told you it couldn’t have been more than forty minutes but you felt like you’d been in here for hours. You're stripped down to your underwear, suit discarded somewhere in the room. Your body felt like it was on fire. The worst part wasn’t the heat though. It was the utter need you felt. You were so horny it hurt.

You were laying on the floor, hands stuffed into your underwear as you tried to make yourself cum. You knew your release wouldn’t help dull the effect of the powder but you had to do something or else you’d go insane.

You hadn't told John, because it would put you both in a compromising position, but you knew how to make the effects go away faster. It would take eight hours for it to leave naturally. But if someone where to fuck you…the relief would be instantaneous. You couldn’t do that to him.

You’d started to develop a crush on the super soldier a couple of months ago. Sure he was a piece of work, but your heart didn’t seem to care about that. You let out a frustrated groan, hand retracting from your body as you failed to bring yourself some relief. Your eyes snapped over to the door. You could smell him trough the fucking door and that just about made you go feral.

Walker sat outside the door, head resting on his knee as he waited. He should have called the team to update them on what was going on but he didn’t. A part of him felt like telling them what was going on would make it more real somehow. Another part of him, a very selfish part, wanted to make sure he was the only one you could depend on if needed. John had always found you attractive but things were complicated. His family had left him not long ago and he wasn’t sure he deserved to have a romantic life any time soon. But then you’d look at him a certain way, or you’d lean over his body as you went over plans and his heart would jump into his throat. He never planned on telling you before.

He was starting to rethink that now.

“John.”

His head snapped up at the sound of your voice. He shifted around, lifting himself up.

“John.”

Your voice was breathy, only barely dulled by the metal door that separated the two of you.

“You okay?”

“No. It hurts , I need….”

Your voice trailed off. John pressed his ear to the door trying to listen for you. He could hear you panting, small whimpering leaving your mouth. John's dick jumped in his pants. Quit it.

“Please open the door. Please, I need you so bad. I can smell you out there. Fuck you smell so good.”

John's hands clenched into fists at his side, head leaning against the cool metal. He wanted to open the door. He wanted it so bad but you’d told him not to. So he didn’t.

“John please. Just open the door. I need you.”

“Fuck.”

The word slipped from his mouth before he could stop it.

“You told me to stay out here, remember? I promised you.”

“I was wrong John. Please I’ll be such a good girl I promise.”

That was his breaking point. The way your voice sounded so fucking wrecked, the way you were begging him for help. Who was he to deny you? So he opened the door and the sight before him almost made his brain short circuit.

You were on your knees before him, wearing only your bra and underwear. The moment he opened the door your head shot up to look at his face. Your pupils were blown wide, lips parted as you let out small pants. Before he could even think about moving you were latching onto him. Your arms wrapped around his legs, hand resting against his thigh. You nuzzle your face into his groin and his knees almost buckle. He tugged you off of him, much to your disappointment. You opened your mouth to complain but before you could John had crouched down, making his face level with yours.

“Are you sure you want this?”

He knew you would probably say yes to whatever he asked you but he needed to hear you say it, even in your altered state. He needed to hear you say you needed him. Not because it would flare his ego but because he knew that as soon as he kissed you he would be a gone man. His thoughts would be consumed by you and everything would change between the two of you forever.

“I want you John. I want you so bad.”

That was all he needed. His lips crashed into yours. You met him with desperation, tongue moving against his teeth as he opened his mouth to you. His hands dig into your skin, trying to tether himself to reality. This could be the first, and only, time he had an opportunity like this. He didn’t want to waste it. You grumbled something against his lips, causing him to pull away.

“What did you say?”

“You’re wearing too much shit. Take it off.”

You tugged at his suit in desperation.

“I want to feel your skin against me.”

John nodded, raising for a moment to strip out of his suit. It wasn't an easy task but he managed. Once he was only in his boxers he moved back to the floor, giving you a bruising kiss. He guided your body to lay down, his own caging you against the floor. Your legs wrapped around his waist on instinct, grinding yourself against his growing bulge. Your nails raked against his back as he bit into your lip. He began moving down your body, lips pressing kisses to every inch he could until he was face to face with your pussy. He could see the wet spot on your underwear. The sight made his dick twitch. John glanced up at you, his fingers gripping onto your waistband.

“Can I take this off?”

You nodded enthusiastically. John couldn’t help but smile at your reaction. With one tug he managed to get your underwear off your body. His eyes widened at the sight before him.

“Jesus. You're soaked.”

You let out a small whine as his fingers moved over your folds.

“Shh, pretty girl. I’m gonna help you out.”

John's head moved between your legs and you swore you had just died and gone to heaven. His beard scraped against your thighs as he ate you out. With every skill full lick John got you closer and closer to your desired release. Your hands weaved into his hair, forcing his head to stay where it was.

“So good John it feels so fucking good.”

The praise went straight to his dick, causing him to rut against the floor. He would fuck you but he needed you to cum on his tongue first. One of his hands moved to your pussy, thumb moving over your clit as he shoved his tongue inside you. Your body locked, hips rising as your orgasm washed over you.

“John!”

John continued to lap at your cunt, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips as you tried to squirm away from him. After a moment your body relaxed beneath him and he took it as a sign to stop. He raised his head to look at you expecting to see a blissed out expression but that's not what he saw. You looked fucking hungry. Your hands moved to tug John up, lips crashing into his as you tasted yourself on him. You moved one hand down his stomach, fingers tracing over his muscles before finding his boxers. You palm him through the fabric and he groans.

“Put it in me John. Want to feel you inside.”

“Fuck darling. You sure?”

“Please. Need you.”

Yeah there was no way in hell he’d say no to you. He lifted himself up, tugging his dick out from its confines. Your mouth salivated at the sight, core clenching in anticipation. John wrapped his hand around his dick, lining it up with your entrance. He moved in slowly, trying to savour the feeling despite the desparte need to fuck into you. You were a mumbling mess beneath him.

“So big.”

“Yeah? Like it?”

“Love it.”

He snapped his hips, causing you to cry out. Your legs wrapped against his waist, trying to keep him as deep as possible. John began moving in against you. With the way you were clenching around him he wasn't going to be able to keep this up for long.

“Harder.”

“What?”

You grabbed onto his beard, forcing to look at you.

“Fuck me harder.”

Your mouth opened wide as John followed your request. He used his super strength to keep you pinned down as he began to ram into you. Praise slipped from your lips as he fucked you, only spurring him in. Without so much as a warning your orgasm washed over you. Your body locked up again as you gushed onto John's dick. The moan you let out of his name was enough to make his release come. He painted your walls with his seed, body sagging onto yours as he did.

John forced himself to pull out, much to your dismay. Your body was no longer burning and the ache you’d been feeling was completely gone. You’d fixed one issue while creating a new one entirely.

“I’m sorry.”

John turned to look at you, his chest raising and falling as he tried to compose himself. You lifted your body off the ground, moving to get up. Despite the exhaustion he felt John followed after you, rising from the floor. You had your back turned to him, arms wrapped around your chest.

“Hey.”

John's hand wrapped around your shoulder, lightly tugging you so you’d face him. You glanced up at him, brows furrowed.

“Don’t apologise, it wasn't your fault.”

“Except that it was. I knocked the stupid powder off the shelf. I made you fuck me even-”

“Woah, hold on. You didn’t make me do anything. I did it because I thought maybe it would help. But mostly because I was being selfish.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Jesus, you gonna make me spell it out?”

You gave him a shrug. John let out a sigh, hands moving to cross over his chest. He was protecting his heart. Even if he didn’t realise it. He was preparing himself for the possibility that now, without that stuff in your system, you’d be repulsed by him.

“I like you. I’ve liked you for a long time. And yeah i’ve wanted to fuck you for a while. So if anyone should apologise it should be me. Because you-

“Shut up.”

John looked at you, mouth open with unspoken words.

“Just shut up and kiss me Walker.”

And he did. He kissed you like it was the first time. He kissed you like he hadn't been inside you mere moments ago. Kissed you like he’d just taken you out on a date and was saying goodbye at your doorstep. You kissed and kissed and kissed until you couldn’t breathe. Both of you pulled apart for air. You looked up at John with the most love filled eyes he’d ever seen and he couldn’t help but grin down at you.

“I take it you like me too?”

“Thought it was obvious when I was begging for your dick through the door.”

“Just wanted to make sure it was actually you and not the powder.”

You placed another peak to his lips.

“Oh no. It was definitely me.”

John smiled, tugging you into his arms.

The two of you arrived at the Tower three hours later than planned. The team had been about to step out to rescue you when you’d stepped out of the elevator. Your hand was grasped in Walkers as you two made it to the main room. Everyone's eyes snapped to look at you two.

“Where the fuck where you guys?” Yelena asked.

“On the mission.” John answered calmly.

You stifled a laugh, biting into your lip.

“You were supposed to be here three hours ago!”

John let out a small shrug at Bucky's outburst, turning to look at you with a smile.

“Guess we lost track of time.”

You repressed the urge to slap his arm. John turned back to the rest of the team.

“Well i’m gonna take a shower. Ended up working up a sweat.”

A blush coted your cheeks as John gave you a cheeky smirk before making his way towards his room. You watched him go, eyes catching on his ass. You turned back to Yelena, who was just staring at you.

“What the fuck was that?”

You sighed, knowing she’d find out eventually you opted to tell her.

“I touched the yellow shit.”

Yelena's eyes widened in understanding.

“Oh uhg blah! That’s disgusting.”

You just shrug, turning on your heels and walking towards John's room. You were suddenly feeling the need to shower as well.

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crybabystilinski · 3 months ago

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FIRST KISS

pairing — bsf!stiles x bsf!reader

warnings — suggestive, nothing really

word count — 1.7k

a/n — i wrote this with buzzcut stiles in mind until the end and i haven't been reading a lot for teen wolf so it's probably really ooc but whatever🤷‍♀️ i didnt feel like proofreading so lmk if you see any mistakes! part two here

thinking about . . . bsf!reader and stiles talking about virginity. first base, second base, further.

thinking about . . . stiles having to admit he'd never even kissed a girl, much less had any actual use for a condom. the one time he did completely failed.

thinking about . . . the way his cheeks would flush when he admits it, his fingers twitching with his usual nerves and embarrassment.

"no, i’ve never—i mean, uh—"

"wait, have you not had your first kiss?" you were hoping he wouldn't notice the smile that crossed your lips. it wasn't amusement, or anything condescending, the question itself was out of pure curiosity. definitely not because you liked him. but the thought of stiles having no experience, you kinda liked.

"i'm not judging. i was just curious." he met your eye after that, a slow and subtle sigh leaving his lips. he readjusted in his seat, jerking his hips forward to lean further back on your couch. "i have not had my first kiss, but i'm sure i'm not missing out on much."

a silence followed his response. one, because it was a fat (and really bad) lie. and two, because you're now trying not to bust from the sight of him alone.

"that was the worst lie i've ever heard from you." he quickly nodded. "yeah."

another silence. another pause.

"do you want to?" you asked him, seeing his eyes flicker with curiosity and surprise. "want to.. kiss you?"

you nodded, now realizing just how bad your suggestion could turn out. you could've just ruined everything. but no, stiles is a teenage boy, he wouldn't be upset about a chance to kiss a girl. no matter who it was. right?

you could feel yourself tugging your bottom lip between your teeth, subconsciously gnawing on it.

stiles on the other hand, was dying. his lifelong crush and best friend just offered to be his first kiss, of course he wants to say yeah. but what if his breath stinks? what if, what if, what if?

his brain is going a million miles an hour, maybe double what it normally does, and your stupidly suductive lip-biting had him feeling like he short-circuited.

"i mean, yeah, obviously."

you had to restrain yourself from smacking your own head. why did you choose him of all people to be annoyingly in love with?

"right, obviously." you rolled your eyes playfully, sitting up to face stiles. when he didn't move, you motioned to come closer. "c'mon stiles, i'm not about to sit on your lap."

he moved to lean up, inching closer. but his hands were held out in the air, clearly not sure where to put them. you couldn't help the quiet giggle that escaped your lips while you grabbed and moved his hands.

you placed them loosely on your waist. "just relax and be comfortable. confident. if something's wrong, i'll tell you, okay?" he nodded, and you could feel his fingers flex against you. he adjusted them slightly, venturing further down, closer to your hips. "is that okay?"

you nodded with a laugh, putting your own hands on his shoulders. a shiver went down his spine, ticklish to his buzzing nerves.

then you leaned in, stopping right as your lips brushed his. you wanted to make it hot, you wanted him to feel how you do for him. and granted, you couldn't do that with just a kiss, but you could definitely make him think about it.

you pulled back less than an inch, feeling his warm breath fan over your mouth, then pushed forward, finally connecting with him. he kissed back, and although it was a little awkward, a little erratic, you liked it. it was stiles.

but you wanted more, and you were pretty sure stiles did. he would randomly push further, like he was going to take control, then he would soften out. you pulled away for a second, no more than a couple inches, and make eye contact with stiles.

his eyes were droopy, flickering back and forth from your eyes to your lips. his lips were parted and slightly plump, darker red than before, and his breathing was heavy and irregular. fast then slow, then shallow.

you were going to be the death of him.

but before either of you could say something, or ruin the quiet moment, you kissed him again.

this time you were taking even more control, a need to be closer to him taking over. your lips began to open more, your tongue diving into his mouth. the clashing of your teeth and your tongues. it was rough, but it felt oddly comforting.

at some point you raised your body subtly, getting leverage over stiles. his hands were gripping your waist tighter, an underlying possessiveness to it that you were blissfully unaware of. all you cared about right now was how hot it was.

he was holding you so rough but so gently, so possessively but so shyly, it was confusing your already need-foggy head.

your mouth slipped away from his own, lips pressing wet, open-mouth kisses across his rosy cheeks and jawline. aside from the obvious reddening from your makeout, his rosy cheeks were a feature you noticed that were always present.

his now grown out buzzcut used to help bring attention to his face. his cute little button nose, his sharp jawline, the constellation of moles scattered down his face. when your lips came across one, they got a gentle and sweet peck.

your leg swung over his lap, putting you on top of him. the position was more confortable, but it was obviously going to have an effect on stiles.

through yout descent, you found a specific spot right below his ear. a spot that, with a suck, a kiss, a nibble, would cause a noise to escape stiles. it was just a soft exhale, but it was jagged in comparison to his smooth breaths. you could feel his body tense under you, along with a rapidly growing bulge. it brushed against your clothed clit, the smallest squeak coming from you that only made stiles hornier.

"fuck." he quietly mumbled in a groan, feeling your lips smirk against his pulse. you slowly continued down until you reached his shirts collar.

pulling away to look at him and decide what to do next, you found his eyes to be scrunched shut, mouth parted and lips glossed over with a mix of your spit and his. a decent sized hickey right where you just were, a proud smile on your face.

"stiles." he opened his eyes, meeting yours. he noticed the way your kiss-swollen lips were smiling in the most mischievous way he’s ever seen. "mhm?" he hummed, missing the way your lips felt on him.

"do you—what do you want?"

a quiet pause, one where stiles’ brain is trying to catch up to the present.

oh.

the position, his still firm grip, your cold fingers just barely under the bottom hem of his tshirt. what does he want?

"well, what—what do you want?" you smiled, rolling your eyes. deciding to take control again, you murmured, "it better not be like this every time." he nodded, watching the way you took off his shirt so delicately. then he realized what you said.

"wait, every time? you mean we get to do this again?"

you paused, not even realized what you said basically just outright told him your feelings. and now you have to try to have a serious conversation while he’s shirtless.

"well, if you want to."

"do you want to?"

"this isn't about me."

"how is this not about you?"

seeing him get a little frustrated at your defiance, a smile spread on your face. "you have a lot of questions." his facade of serious expression faltered, a loving smile replacing it. "i do. like, why are we doing this?"

your smile however, dropped at that question. you were hoping to get out of it, out of saying it.

"you've never done it. i'm helping you out." he nodded, but it clearly wasn't convincing him. "i'm doing it because i like you, not because i need to kiss someone."

you heartbeat quickened at his confession, "you what?"

"do you like me? or is this just to give me a first kiss?" his expression was light, but the playfulness was gone. "i like you." that was all he needed to hear before kissing you again.

it was surprisingly more heated now, backed by unspoken feelings coming out. it was messy, hot, and wet.

stiles was subconsciously digging his fingers into your side harder, his hips rocking. he was pressing you down, everything rubbing right where it needed to. he let out soft whimpers, ones that he would be embarrassed of if he wasn't achingly hard right now.

you were overwhelmed. with pleasure, with the sight of stiles. his arms, every muscle and every vein, were bulged and covered with a sheer film of sweat from the steamy room. his hands were on you, far enough down that your eyes could make out every ridge in them. and his hair? the small, thin group of dark brown hair, course and slightly wavy, that travelled from his belly button down. it lead your eyes until his pants were in view, blocking the rest.

he started to get more confident. a lot more.

his hands were wandering, cupping your neck and jaw, pressing open-mouthed kisses all over your collarbones. his other hand was sliding up your back, his hand bringing warmth to your skin.

he stopped when his fingers hit your bra, pulling away breathless. "d'you wanna go upstairs?" you asked, referring to your bedroom. he licked his lips, nodding slightly.

he watched you get off of him and the couch, your hips having extra sway as you reached the bottom of the stairs. when he realized he was still on the couch, he hopped up with his usual high energy, practically running to follow you.

you gave him a small peck on the cheek, then turned to walk up the stairs, leaving him trailing behind with a smile and a direct view of your ass.

#🍎 ˚⋆ stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski #teen wolf #teen wolf stiles #stiles #buzzcut stiles #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski blurb #stiles stilinski masterlist #stiles stilinski drabble #stiles stilinski fluff #stiles stilinski smut #stiles stilinski imagine #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf smut #teen wolf fluff #teen wolf x reader #i love my nerdy bf

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target-core · 6 months ago

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The fandom interpretation of billford vs how I interpret it personally has such stark contrast that I kind of wonder if we all read the same book/watched the same show sometimes.

I don’t mean that in a bad way (sorry if I come across as condescending). I find it really interesting actually. I think fandom, in general, has a tendency to ignore darker themes present in a work because they’re difficult to talk about.

I feel a little odd seeing so much fluff and domesticity type stuff surrounding them when their relationship was so terrible. There’s nothing wrong with fluff obviously (I like it sometimes!), it’s just hard for me to fully enjoy … I can’t help but view any moments of Bill treating Ford nicely as underhanded. I am also probably projecting though - part of why I like Billford and interpret it the way I do is because I find it (particularly the darker parts) relatable to me.

I’m curious to hear other peoples opinions on this matter. Sorry for the random rant - don’t worry, I’m working on something! This has just been on my mind lately.

#gravity falls #billford #rant

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importantstudentbusinessspy-blog · 11 months ago

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Cold-hearted Wolf

Master list

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Martell princess reader.

Tags: Angst, fluff, arranged marriage, eventual smut, cregan is repressed and mean at first, then falls for the reader.

All fiction, the reader is a made up character. Im a long-time reader, but first-time writer.

Chapter 2 - war council, sexy sparring, and a confrontation.

Cregan Stark stood at the head of a large wooden table, surrounded by advisors and generals. His dog sat obediently beside his chair. The table was spread with maps, denoting positions, and pathways. Cregan's fingers traced a potential route, his eyes focused.

"This pass," he began, pointing to a narrow way in the mountains, "Will be our best chance. It's least expected. We'll split our forces..."

Before he could continue, the door creaked open, and you walked in, your curious gaze taking in the scene. You curtseyed before the council, approaching the table with measured steps. Cregan's pet waddled over and nuzzled against your dress, letting you scratch behind his ear.

Cregan's brow furrowed. "My lady," he began, his tone polite but firm, "This is a war council meeting. It's not a place for a princess."

There was a murmur of agreement from some of the men and women, while others looked away, not meeting your gaze.

You swallowed the insult, whether he intended it or not, hoping your confidence didn’t waver as you offered in turn. "In Sunspear, my father’s council valued the insights of all, regardless of sex or stature. I've studied battles since I was little, my lord, and strategies. My input might offer a fresh perspective."

Cregan hesitated, raising a brow in trying to assess when their or not this information about Dornish customs was true.

"Your highness." One of the generals, an older man with grizzled hair, grunted, "There is no harm in hearing the lady Stark, my lord. The Dornish have a way with unconventional tactics."

You held your tongue from telling the general the tactics only seemed unconventional to him, but in the south, they were quite practiced. You were grateful enough that he spoke in your defense.

After a long pause, Cregan finally nodded. "Very well. Speak your mind, my lady."

You smiled at your husband and approached the maps. With a glint in your eye, you began outlining your thoughts, suggesting alternatives and considering Dornish strategies that the North had made full use of. The room slowly grew quiet, listening cautiously to your thoughts. As you spoke, you glanced around the room to get a take of the atmosphere. Some members of the council sat with skeptical looks, questioning your suggestions, others with furrowed brows of concern.

You spotted your husband, whose eyes followed the map where you were pointing out battle formations. You didn’t expect his eyes to snap up to meet yours, the cloudy storm in them rendering you speechless for a moment.

You stuttered in the midst of your sentence, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. You cursed yourself inwardly when you saw the corner of his mouth perk up. He was laughing at you. No matter how you have brought the room to silence, Cregan still didn’t take you seriously. The embarrassment and humiliation made you all the more self conscious as you thanked the gods that one of the generals, the same one who had stood up for you, took in one of your suggestions and began to talk it over with the council.

“If I may, my lord.” He began to talk to Cregan, whose eyes and condescending smirk were still on you. “The merging of Dornish and Northern tactics might just be the edge we needed.”

Cregan finally tore his watchful eyes away from you, and you took in a deep breath. “Tradition had its place for a reason, don’t you agree, Ser Robert?”

The general nodded, albeit giving the lord a knowing look. “Sometimes, the winds of change bring unexpected allies and advantages.”

Cregans gaze switched back to you. “Aye, sometimes.” His expression unreadable once more.

----------------------------------------------------------

The courtyard buzzed with activity, men-at-arms training for the looming battle. At the center, Cregan Stark and his kingsguard, Ser Jon, clad in their sparring breaches and boots, moved with a fluid grace, each thrust and parry a testament to their combat training. Steel against steel echoed off the ancient stone walls.

Watching from the sides, your eyes traveled appreciatively over Cregan's physique, particularly the way you could see every tensed muscle of his arms, chest, and abdomen as he carried out perfected movements. Beneath your admiration, however, was a desire to humble him after his dismissal of you in the war council. To make him turn red for once.

Walking forward to the table decorated with weaponry, you picked up your favored curved Dornish blade, sharp and deadly, a gift for Cregan from your court.

You slowly approached the sparring duo. "Care for a challenge, my lord?" You were happy your voice didn’t waver.

The knight and lord Stark paused their fight, lowering their weapons, the courtyard going silent. Cregan tilted his head to meet your gaze, a smirk playing on his lips. "You're not dressed for it, my lady. That gown looks too precious to risk-"

Without a word, you grabbed the hem of your gown and tore it, fashioning a makeshift skirt that allowed for movement. You barely felt the cold air as the adrenaline rushing through your veins brought a familiar heat. The gathered crowd murmured around you.

Cregan caught himself staring at you but recovered quickly, chuckling. "Spoiled princess, tearing such fine fabric.”

You exhaled sharply at the comment, feeling again as if you were a misbehaving child being disciplined. You were going to enjoy this. “My lord,” You put up your blade and held your stance.

“Alright,” Cregan held up his sword and got in position. “If you are so eager to prove a point."

You advanced, your blade zooming in the air. The courtyard crowd drew back. The initial clash was swift, Cregan clearly taken aback by surprise. You ducked under his strikes, retaliating with speed. A well-timed move saw Cregan on the ground, the wind knocked out of him. He only stayed that way for a moment, though, quickly getting back up.

"I am every bit the warrior you are," you insisted with conviction as the two of you circled one another.

Cregan recovered quickly. With newfound respect, he launched a fierce counterattack, which you blocked.

Of course, Lord Stark knew nothing of the discipline Sunspear princesses have received, including battle strategy and combat. You were glad you at least got to see the surprise in his features when you dodged his attacks masterfully. Your old teacher back home would be proud.

Blades blurred in the air as you fought. But Cregan's strength and experience began to tell. With a deft move, he had you pinned against the hey covered ground, his hand reaching around your back to put a buffer between you and the ground.

He inched towards you until you were a breath apart, making you breath hitch. "Being a good sparring partner doesn't make you a good warrior, princess," he breathed.

Your cheeks burned, but you were determined to get away victorious. With a sudden twist, you broke free, using your legs to flip him onto the ground as you rolled on top of him. Cregan found himself on his back, your curved blade cool against his throat. He looked up, not just into the eyes of a skilled fighter, but a woman who had quite literally kicked his ass, even if it was by fighting dirty.

You looked down at him, but something made you pause. His wolfish grin was back. His eyes wandered slightly, noting the way your dress had ridden up, scandalously, you realized, revealing your legs. You tried to ignore the feeling that look of his stirred within the pit of your stomach.

"Don't underestimate your opponent," you breathed, fighting a smile. You missed the rush of fighting. Feeling brazen, you leaned in closer until you were sure only he could hear. "You rely too heavily on might. Long-range combat is key to reducing casualties. Thank you for granting me the honor of sparring with you."

With that, you rose gracefully, leaving a dazed Cregan on the floor.

----------------------------------------------------------

The flicker of candlelight lit up your bedchamber in a warm glow. On the table, maps were sprawled out in detail. Concentration etched your features as you calculated troop movements, supply routes, and attacks.

The door creaked open, revealing Cregan Stark, his eyes heavy and ready for sleep after his wash, his hair tied messily behind his ears and falling lazily over his forehead. “I must accompany Ser Robert tomorrow to the front.” He said.

"Look," You pointed to your notes. "This regiment, right here."

He glanced over, brows furrowed. "That's too many men," he said, his tone sharp. "I won't needlessly risk Northern lives."

You met his gaze evenly. "Victory requires the right numbers. And this is the number we need."

"The numbers ‘we’ need," he shot back, echoing your words. "These are people you are sending to their deaths. Offering up thousands of Northern lives like its nothing."

"No!” You stood your ground, chin raised defiantly, though your lower lip began to tremble. "It's almost as though you have forgotten that I am your wife, Cregan Starl! These people, your people, are mine now, too. I value them as much as you do!"

His grey eyes stormed at your words, clearly not expecting you to be so blunt with him.

You stepped closer,your voice finding its confidence. "From the moment I've arrived here. You… you've treated me with nothing but disdain! Dismissing my opinions, underestimating me, and ridiculing me in front of your men. The only respect you showed was when we sparred. Is that the only language you understand?"

His icy facade wavered, guilt flickering in his eyes. "y/n," he began.

But you weren't having any of it. “Please, just listen!"

While you still had his attention, you launched into your strategy, outlining troop movements and battle formations and emphasising the importance of long-range weapons.

“The longbow may work in the windless desserts,” he interrupted. “But the climate here is different.”

“We make use of trebuchets then.” You insisted.

He blinked at that. “Perhaps,”

As the two of you spoke, exchanging ideas back and forth, the plan became clear. Cregan, for the first time, truly listened, no belittling smirks, or jibes.

“With this plan, more lives could be spared. Our men can come home.” You finished, with nothing more to add.

You looked at him for either approval or dissatisfaction. Anything to give you a sign of what he thought. But his face was unreadable as he leaned on the desk, studying your combined notes. His mouth remained in a hard line, but his eyes, plagued by grey storms, were on you.

“Cregan?” You asked, urging him to share his thoughts.

Cregan took a step towards you, closing the distance between you two, his hand lifting your chin up and capturing your lips in a fierce kiss.

You gasped, your limbs temporarily going numb with sudden warmth as his soft lips moved roughly against yours. This man didn’t kiss gently. He was roughened up by his environment and did not hold back. Just as he handn’t on his wedding night. Only now, it was different. Now, he seemed like he actually wanted to be kissing you.

Your hands grasped at his wide shoulder to balance yourself. “Cregan…”

Your initial surprise melted after a moment, giving way to desire, and you responded with equal interest, kissing him back. His hands found your hips and pulled you sharply against himself, tightening around you. You felt hard muscle. The man was all rough edges and cold demeanors, but right now, he was warm. This was the passion you'd yearned for, the connection you'd dreamt of.

Outside of the boarded window, you overheard the sounds of the night, the whistling win, the sound of owls hooting, and echoes of a wolf howling from a distance. Suddenly, Cregan pulled away abruptly, leaving you breathless and disoriented.

“Y/N,” he began, breathing unevenly. “I cannot…”

“What?” Your voice broke, dreading the rejection you knew was coming.

“You regret our union, dont you.” You said finally, tired of waiting for his response.

He looked up at you with furrowed brows. “That is not what I-

You shook your head, eyes on the floor as you tried to calm your racing breaths. “Its alright.” You reassured him, hoping it would make it easier to be truthful with you. “You hate that I'm not a Northerner. That I'm not your equal.”

You watched as his handsome features hardened into anger. As if you had just said something extremely stupid.

He took two steps and backed you against the wall. Gasping, you blinked up to meet stormy grey eyes staring down at you.

"My land is in crisis," he finally said, his voice raw. "I can't afford to be distracted by such… dramatics. If you wished for constant passion and fire in your marriage, I'm afraid you ran out of luck with me, princess."

Before he could say more, and having heard enough, you gathered the maps on the table and shoved them into his hands before storming out of your bedroom door, leaving him alone in the candlelit room, your ego bruised and your emotions in turmoil.

#hotd fanfic #hotd season 2 #house of the dragon #cregan x you #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark #eventual smut #angst #fluff

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apple-onigiri · 3 months ago

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hi can you talk more about your reading of siffrin and loop's relationship please. I'm so curious 👀

(omg hii i love your analyses)

well i guess now i gotta huh!! the demons (the people on my computer) are telling me to do it, do it, do it, so here it is!! most of it below a cut! because this ended up being really really long!

so! self-love and self-hatred play a big role in isat in general. the whole story is kind of about accepting that you are capable of being loved, and not, in fact, inherently repulsive so maybe you should open up, siffrin. imagine that. and i'd argue these themes crystallize into their final form with sif and loop and how they interact :) my ants. my mentally ill ants

(this sidesteps the curious meta element of how both the narration of siffrin to himself and loop addressing siffrin as they talk uses second person. it's very interesting but this is already gonna be long enough)

looking at all their interactions, especially through the lens of knowing who loop actually is, gives a pretty good idea of loop's attitude towards another version of themselves, and, by extension, their own self (this is a bit confusing because there are Too Many Siffrins Here)

the long and short is the resentment they feel towards themselves - because loop never went through the realization they're not unlovable - is externalized and often taken out on siffrin.

they are very condescending with how they interact with him. he's just a silly little stardust! so stupid, so naive! knows so little about literally everything. awww, let me help you out, stardust, before you hurt yourself.

on my first playthrough i actually initially distrusted loop a lot because of this. i saw it as the last thing siffrin would need when they already put themselves down so heavily; how they call themselves "stupid" multiple times for any and all mistakes they make and how unforgiving they are to themselves (especially the key hidden in the classroom exemplifies this). but with the knowledge of siffrin and loop starting out as the same person, it makes a stark amount of sense. when you have a mindset similar to siffrin's and loop's, no one will ever be more critical of you than you yourself.

it sometimes feels like loop's forgetting they're not talking to themselves internally and that this is a whole separate being they're talking to that they can't just externalize their own self-hatred onto, enough that they have to backtrack and apologize because hurting yourself in a way that resembles hurting someone else makes you think twice about what you're doing to yourself. there's a healthy dose of regret there, and guilt that they said something you can't easily erase from the mind of the person you said it to.

there is still care in loop's behavior. conversely to the previous statement, nothing will make you more sympathetic to your own plight than literally seeing it from an outsider's perspective and being able to acknowledge that you need help (sidenote, but kinda twisted of the universe to grant loop's wish in the most roundabout way possible. you want someone to help you? okay! help yourself! your other self, but hey, it counts, right?)

(cut here because this is getting out of control and i can't let it appear in unabridged form on anyone's dash, especially on mobile)

as acts go on and quests progress, loop gets these moments of honesty and empathy for siffrin more often. they obviously have been helping before but you know what i mean, don't you. those moments where loop's facade drops and we get a feeling that this isn't them acting, this is their true... shades, lol. examples!!

aftermath of touch therapy! of course they'd know what the root problem here is and how to best help. this is something acutely familiar to them and they're able to tell what siffrin needs to stop spiraling. and!! siffrin reciprocates this! haven't talked ab him and his attitude towards loop specifically a lot but this too is important. i'm rapidly becoming ill btw

forgetting the party's names upon waking up on the meadow and calling loop! it happened to loop before so seeing it happen to another version of you must make one feel... complicated. they patiently remind siffrin each name and make sure they're fine.

honestly, throughout the entirety of the story, but especially by the end of act 4, they find it very crucial to make sure they reassure siffrin they're there for him, that he's not alone in this. they know where feeling completely alone leads.

okay i can't take it anymore i gotta talk about this.

loop so doesn't want siffrin to use the dagger on themselves. it's genuinely heartbreaking to see their distress about the idea

they even try to dissuade siffrin from it later on, when you first attempt to use it, and are very very upset still afterwards

they care about siffrin!! they don't want to see him hurt! they don't want siffrin to befall the same awful fate they met where self-destruction melts into the natural state of being and you just spiral spiral spiral! they don't hate him, and seeing them fall so far from okay that they're fine with stabbing themselves to save time in a time loop where literally no time is wasted because it loops back anyway is awful for them.

this is where loop transforms from the voice in your head pointing out your deepest flaws to one that can tell what you're doing is self-destructive and bad for you and you really, really should stop. the, pardon my wording, tug on your stomach, like the one you get when you're standing over the ledge and looking down. and when you get the stupid thought how easy it would be to fall, your brain reacts by jolting you away. loop is the jolt.

loop is the inner instincts of siffrin personified at many points of the story. sometimes they're hurtful towards him as instincts of a self-destructive person are wont to do, which is justified with them just wanting that other version of themselves to Be Better, Get Better. and sometimes, it's self-preservation they depict; feeling at home with your self and expressing empathy towards yourself and your own awful situation.

when act 5 comes, loop is clearly crushed about not being able to help siffrin out, about not being able to get them out of their despair.

then, just like he's done with everyone else, siffrin rejects loop too. when siffrin shuns loop here, it's out of anger for being kept in the dark, yes, but it's also a rejection of any positive thoughts they might have about themselves.

siffrin's rejection of loop isn't only rejecting one last person they're close to like they did with their family members. it's a rejection of any and all instincts to care for himself and his well-being. it's the same thing that allows him to use crafts with no cooldowns. it's the same thing as memory of emptiness that lets him loop to the point where he died and just keep going. it's what lets mal du pays take form.

this refusal of loop's help is, in my opinion, the ultimate act of self-hatred in isat.

okay depression time over act6 twohats happy times yayy!!!

after a little bit because loop is - kinda justifiably - upset at how their suffering amounted to nothing and now this siffrin gets their happy ending. and they don't!! how is that fair? we have to keep in mind a lot of what we've learned was news to loop too. they spent so long in the loops, not knowing why, to the point where they begged the universe to get them out and help them.

their roles from act 5 essentially swap here. here loop is the one self-destructing and rejecting any help at all, and projecting the hell out of themselves onto siffrin, just like siffrin did in the "friendquests" in act 5.

so i haven't talked a lot about siffrin's outlook on loop before now (when his psyche is not literally split into tiny pieces, that is) but my little pet theory is that, just like they really hate repeating their lines, being all fake, and only do so because they feel they have to, they're often annoyed by loop because they can kind of sense the front they put out. if you hate the way you pretend, these feelings are most likely gonna transpose to another version of you doing the same thing.

but in this fight, the siffrin in it is not the one still trapped in the time loops. this is a siffrin tentatively learning that maybe it's okay to not hate yourself. so, just like act 5 is the greatest act of self-hatred, the ending of this fight is the ultimate act of self-love and self-acceptance, regardless of how it ends but with some caveats to both outcomes.

if siffrin wins, he refuses to hurt loop, stating outright that they don't hate themselves enough to do so. he won't do it even if loop is literally begging for it.

if loop wins, they cannot bring themselves to hurt siffrin. they feel too much empathy towards them. it's impossible to hate him - and themselves - the same after seeing the struggle from outwards.

regardless, they both exhibit the kind of care only you yourself can give yourself after fighting tooth and nail to prove to your own self-esteem that you're worth it. siffrin wouldn't be satisfied with killing loop because it would mean a rejection of some fragment of themselves.

siffrin went through a capital-C Change due to the loops (the theme of change in isat is another thing i could write on and on about), and part of that Change was having a version of you, your past self, still stuck in how they used to be and the situation that made them so. a healthy type of growth means changing for the better, yes, but also learning to love and respect who you used to be. if you met your younger self, would you resent them? or would you want them to know that all their struggles weren't for nothing? Change means leaving something behind but not forsaking it, letting it rot and fester unacknowledged

(insert rant about how isa's Change was actually kind of partial because he decided to completely sever ties with who he used to be instead of being appreciative of the aspects of himself he seems to still like, like being smart, and him resorting to hiding it instead WE DON'T HAVE THE TIME RIGHT NOW ASK ME LATER IF U WANNA but tl;dr actshually isa Change doesn't need to be full-on destruction because the eggshell is still there the Change God told me okay enough of this)

this. this is love. self-love given form. to me.

"you matter. your suffering mattered. it helped me become who i am right now. nothing was in vain. it hurt, and might still hurt for a long time - but it was never for nothing." that's what i got from this scene.

anywayyyyy i warned you!!! that this would be long!! if you let me yap! it's yap central over here. if you got all the way down here, thank you for enduring. have a cupcake :)🧁

#GOD this got so long. like almost 2k words long. but i did warn you #in stars and time #isat #isat siffrin #isat loop #isat meta #isat analysis #in stars and time spoilers #isat spoilers #isat act 6 secret encounter spoilers #two hats spoilers #pondering #ask tag #long post #cosmic soundwaves

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kaiserposting · 8 months ago

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Michael Kaiser — Liebevoll

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader WORD COUNT: 1k TYPE: Humor, Established relationship, some fluff WARNING(S): Kaiser is a cringe loser, my bad german makes a comeback (I was always on that damn phone in german class)

Since you’ve been trying to learn German (you gave some stupid excuse about how you ‘want to know what shit he talks about you when he thinks you don’t understand him’), a golden opportunity to mess with you has appeared in front of Kaiser.

Obviously being that your brainwaves aren’t completely inactive, you knew not to ask him and instead try a language app first because he’s not to be trusted.

Not possible on Kaiser’s watch, though. Nuh uh. What do you need an app for when you have a boyfriend who’s perfectly capable of lying to you for his amusement?

Your phone was dealt with (snatched and tucked in Kaiser’s back pocket, where you’d rather wretch than reach) three exercises in… So you’re still about as clueless as in the beginning. Now, Kaiser is subjecting you to his ‘tutoring’.

“When someone holds the door for you, you bow and say ‘Ich hoffe, du wirst von einem Auto angefahren.’ It means thank you, by the way.”

“Uh, that’s too long to mean thank you.” You look at him like he’s forcing you to say tongue twisters, suspicion clear in your expression.

Kaiser finds your wariness and lack of understanding really cute, mainly because he’s a condescending asshole. He reaches out to try and move your mouth as if that’ll somehow assist you in pronouncing it, but you pry his fingers away from your face before he can reach. It makes him snicker.

After a few tries, you get through that one. Then Kaiser forces you through the ordeal of sounding out that string of bullshit multiple times ‘just to make sure you really memorized it’.

Next, Kaiser says, “When you want the tab at a restaurant, you should say, ‘Kannst du auf meinen Teller scheißen?’”

“Are you sure?”

“Definitely. Why do you think you know more than me? It’s my first language.” He smiles at you in a wannabe suave manner.

Reluctantly, you repeat it back to him, more than once.

His gaslighting is almost becoming convincing with his insistence on you retaining this information as if you’re actually gaining knowledge here.

But you decide to take everything with a grain of salt, anyway, no matter how compelling Kaiser’s acting may be. You’ll try to search these up later. At least if you can manage to spell them based on what you heard.

The nonsense continues on like this:

“When a guy compliments you, you should reply with ‘Sag das noch einmal, damit ich dich ausweiden kann.’ It means thank you veeeeeeery much, by the way.”

“Does everything mean thank you according to you?!”

“Aww, that’s a really cute grumpy face you’re making.”

“Don’t dodge the question.”

Kaiser stares at you expectantly, scooting closer towards you and leaning in, his face inching closer towards yours. Disturbed (not swayed or affected at all, might you add!), you decide to comply.

He wonders what other stupid shit he should make you say. Even for a joyless and miserable person like Kaiser, it’s kinda difficult to stifle his laughter. Of course, someone as delusional as him would find entertainment in his own antics, but he’s doing a good job on not letting it show.

“After paying at the supermarket, you tell the cashier ‘Es gibt eine Leiche im Pausenraum’ and walk off immediately. It’s a social norm.”

What a shameless liar. You’re curious about what he’s making you say though, since he’s still not reacting when you repeat it back to him during this whole farce. The mischievous rat’s game is on point.

You continue to go along with it, though, since your intrigue is also making you want to learn them all so you can actually look them up after all this. In fact, you drop asking him about it regardless, pretending as if you let down your guard and believe him now.

This leads Kaiser to being more comfortable, testing the waters in a different direction, assuming you won’t think anything of it.

“You should greet me in German every time you see me as practice,” he says. “With something like ‘Du bist sehr schön.’”

Kaiser thinks he’ll think it funny because you rarely compliment him, but he finds himself liking it a little once you repeat it to him. Then he makes you say it again and again, aiming less to deceive you into thinking he’s dedicated to your linguistic education and more so for his satisfaction.

But Kaiser ignores this strange happiness. He tricked you into saying it, so it’s whatever. Doesn’t mean anything. In fact, he’d be a stupid microbe to dwell on it.

Once he strays down that part, though, it keeps escalating.

“Mit dir ist alles besser." - That’s probably the opposite of how you feel, so Kaiser finds some kind of humor in it conceptually. Then hearing is too much to his liking again.

“In deinen Armen fühle ich mich geborgen." - You’d never think something like that, god forbid you utter it out loud… What’s wrong with him? It’s supposed to be comedic. He’s pranking you! Punking you. You’re a gullible idiot!!! He like, got you so good or whatever.

"Du machst mich glücklich.”

When you parrot that one back to him with more ease, since it’s more on the simple side, Kaiser stares into your eyes with a kind of seriousness you find disconcerting. You expect him to demand you say it again so he can be sure you remember it, though the frequency of this request died down more and more with each phrase you spoke.

The silence stretches. You continue to gaze at each other with an almost bizarre confusion between you two.

Is he making you say things he yearns to hear deep down? Or is he finding an excuse to tell you things he’s reluctant to admit? Both options are pathetic and beneath him. And he also really can’t tell which one it is, either.

“Can you say it again?” asks Kaiser, more tender in tone.

“Du machst mich glücklich?”

You’re not a very affectionate couple. It’s to your surprise that Kaiser wraps his arms around you with tentativeness, like he’s skirting around something, then presses a chaste kiss to your forehead. Despite your puzzlement, you return the embrace, pulling him closer.

Now you’ve got to find out what it was to warrant all that from him for sure. Guess you’ll be utilizing speech to text later…

Ich hoffe, du wirst von einem Auto angefahren = I hope you get ran over by a car Kannst du auf meinen Teller scheißen? = Can you take a shit on my plate? Sag das noch einmal, damit ich dich ausweiden kann = Say that again so I can disembowel you Es gibt eine Leiche im Pausenraum = There’s a dead body in the break room Du bist sehr schön = You’re very beautiful Mit dir ist alles besser = Everything’s better with you In deinen Armen fühle ich mich geborgen = I feel safe in your arms Du machst mich glücklich = You make me happy I was writing a WIP with a premise I've never done before, but it got difficult to write whihc annoyed me, so I wrote this which is something that ive quite literally done before instead #StayStagnant

#michael kaiser x reader #blue lock x reader #kaiser x reader #michael kaiser x you #bllk x reader #blue lock x you

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anuninterestingperson · 15 days ago

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truth scrapper trailer theorycrafting extravaganza (part 3 - amour & betz and repeated symbols)

spent a while theorizing yesterday about truth scrapper after the trailer release; parts 1 and 2 focused on sosotte, saturated items, the truth scrappers guild, and the dwell. this final part will contain theories about amour & betz and observations about repeated symbols within the trailer!

as mentioned previously, i'm only going to post stuff i personally said for the other folks in the server's privacy, and focus primarily on my own thoughts so that i don't take credit for others' without showing them. but definitely keep in mind other people were there and saying so many interesting things and we were pinging off each other a lot, so a lot of my thoughts were inspired by the other very smart very fun people talking! also note that alt text has been provided for all screenshots if they get hard to read anywhere. anyway let's finish up this mess

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3 - you are here!]

(perhaps that is why i think betz should be a girlloser. howl is after all the original. but no more genuinely i think betz is so put-together-looking / 3 on silly little guy scale / 'kind and proper' / you get what i'm going for, right? like the vibes. the vibes of being someone who should not be a loser. that he just deserves it? they do apparently swear the most so i feel like when they do lose composure it'll be really something and i want it to happen <3 in the nicest way possible i swear)

(not really a theory. just an observation. good for you amour)

this isn't something i talked about yesterday but i'm interested in the juxtaposition of how amour and betz are described in the steam listing and the website.

for amour, the steam listing: mischievous and curious; website: annoying, but susceptible to flattery / dull, helpful. for betz, the steam listing: kind and proper; website: knight in shining armor / a bit of a pushover. it's like the website is saying the same or similar things in the least charitable or most clinical way possible. mischievous and curious - annoying. proper - knight in shining armor (which i think i understandably view as sounding sort of derisive in this context). kind - a bit of a pushover.

it'll be very interesting to see how this pans out in practice. which of the descriptions is right? is betz actually a pushover, or is who is speaking in those bios just condescending towards kind people? if the knight in shining armor thing is indeed intending to be derogatory, is it always a good thing for betz that he feels inclined to help, or will the people subject to it sometimes feel it condescending? betz has a brigade named after them. is it a fanclub (and if so, how does he feel about that? especially as someone who gets embarrassed easily) or people who feel they need to protect him (and if so, why?) or a group of people they lead (and if so, why, and are they a force for good overall or a larger symptom of a need for control or something)? is amour actually a proper herhimbo (as it were) this time or is the person who wrote the bios not inclined to dig any deeper because it isn't useful for the mission? we know from the faq that they're not always going to 'make the best decisions for themselves or one other' so while my first and also second and third reactions to the website bios are 'what?? mean' and i do still think that is true i can't help wondering whether there's some truth to it as well that will end up becoming pertinent to the larger emotional narrative

i also think that these characteristics will interface with sosotte's memory in intriguing ways. (yes i used 'intriguing' just so that i wouldn't use 'interesting' again hush it's fine) amour is curious--will he want to know more about sosotte's memory loss, and if so, is it something that will grate against sosotte for her to poke at? betz is kind, but could that feel like condescension to somebody with what equates to a disability (if potentially a magical one), and if they are also proper, could that rub up badly sometimes against sosotte forgetting? and that's not even getting into the fact that it's mentioned what you choose to remember can influence how sosotte reacts in the future. if sosotte writes that betz is kind, she will be more inclined to view things charitably. if she writes that betz is nosy and interfering or something instead, that can color everything a different direction. 🤔 missteps upon missteps

the last thing i didn't mention but that i'm still wondering about today is that the interview from yesterday mentions the game will go the classic vn route of needing to complete good endings for both characters before being able to unlock the true ending. i'm crossing my fingers for polyam true ending (we'll seeeeee i just love polyamory endings... [everyone who knows the fic i'm writing stares at me in deadpan. yes yes we all know what i'm about lol] but i am also very very curious if there will be bad endings. i almost hope there is...i'm highly allergic to being ~mean~ in gameplay so it'd wig me out on one hand but on the other, narratively, i desire Consequences

repeated symbols

these mostly were just me pointing out stuff i saw a lot within the trailer when i was going frame by frame! it's a lot more me asking questions about what they mean than proposing answers but hey

(the rest of the forget me nots are much more obvious but i think it's important that they're on sosotte's mind enough that she doodles them also!)

(these come from the scrapbook, front of scrapbook, scrapbook, and the walls of cul-de-puits respectively)

(walls of cul-de-puits for the first, scrapbook cover/insides blocked by gameplay window for the second two. if i had to guess, i'd think the previous symbols are different but related and have to do with rituals--some sort of writing system perhaps?--and the second is a truth scrapper symbol. mostly because light makes me think of, like, revealing the truth? but perhaps it has something to do with another element of the world)

anyway there we are, that's about the sum of the stuff i went over yesterday! i'm terribly excited to learn more and to find out more about the world. fighting off the urge to start a truth scrapper spreadsheet in all honesty. if you have any theories and wanna talk about them feel free to yell them in my general direction! otherwise i hope this was, if nothing else, something vaguely amusing for people to look upon one day. thanks for readin' o7 brin out

#truth scrapper #truth scrapper trailer theorycrafting extravaganza #sh ref cw

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noxiatoxia · 3 months ago

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okay, i’ve been obsessing over your komaeda translations and i must know… given the unsure way he talks in the japanese (lots of filler words), does his dialogue change much after he learns the truth? late ch4, i mean. when he starts being condescending to everyone. i’m also very curious about his big speech about wanting to be called the ultimate hope

Hello, anon! Thank you for the message and interesting question! And thank you for the patience!

So, there's three questions here if I'm understanding:

Does Komaeda's speech pattern (sounding softer and using filler words, or generally downplaying his words) change later into ch.4?

When Komaeda starts rambling about hope, does he speak more clearly and more confidently?

What is the nuance in Komaeda's "hope" speech on the laptop?

I will answer all 3 in this order.

(Also, for anybody confused.... here's my post talking about how Komaeda uses filler words, and here's my post talking about how Komaeda's speech was deliberately changed during the earlier beta to make him sound less confident in himself.)

So, question number one:

1. Does Komaeda talk more rudely, use less filler words, or talk more assuredly in ch.4?

Hmm...I don't think so. He still uses honorifics for everyone (-san for girls and -kun for boys), he still uses sa and ne to the same amount, and he does not seem to devote any sort of rude speech for the most part. It is only his words that change, and not the way he speaks them.

My memory is horrifically bad, so please keep that in mind...I asked my friend @kaiokentimesten for help, and was provided with a good number of lines he remembered from ch.4/5 of Komaeda saying rude things, and I looked them up in the Japanese version. All lines were said in his usual speech formations, so there was no change. Again, the words he spoke just happened to be ruder, but they were said in the same tone.

I will show an example.

KOMAEDA: おっと、安易にハムスターを例に出すと、脱落した彼に怒られちゃうかな? KOMAEDA: Oops. How clumsy of me to use hamsters as an example. Do you think that loser* would've gotten mad at me if he were still here?

*Komaeda does say "dropout" and it's used for people who have been eliminated in a game, or failed a test/exam/otherwise didn't "make the cut". I just think "loser" works better as a translation.

Nothing changes about Komaeda's speech here, he talks the same as he always does. He's just saying meaner words.

(I don't know where the translators got "weakling" from...that's nowhere in the text.)

The only exception I can think of is the beginning of Trial 4. Souda remarks they talk about the murder weapon, and Komaeda three times goes, "Ha?"

It's a funny scene, but significant because, as far as I know, this is the only time Komaeda uses this word.

(I could be wrong, but I'm totally coming up empty right now...please correct me if I am!)

は ha, is very rude. It means "What?" or "Huh?" but is a very rude way to say it. People like Kuzuryuu and Oowada love using it, and Hinata uses it a fair amount, although even Hinata - who's whole design philosophy, as pointed out by the SDR2 artbook, is to be more masculine and ruder than Naegi was - uses え e more often.

え e, うん un, ん nn, あれ are, are more casual but non-rude ways to say "What?"

Komaeda always used one of those first four from what I can remember, or simply 何 nani, which is probably the most neutral way to say "What?"

So to see Komaeda use this is surprising.

This is different than ははは, はっ, or あはは which are normal laughing sounds.

Oh, before we move out of Chapter 4, here's a mistranslation I want to point out (or, less mistranslation, more very direct translation where the joke is lost in English).

KOMAEDA: じゃあ、始めようか。シンキングターイム...ってヤツだね。

Komaeda isn't a stranger to randomly injecting English words into his speech - a quirk that I feel is used to show he's a bookworm/otherwise intelligent (that's just my thought) - and in those instances, instead of translating directly (because using English in English loses the nuance that using English in Japanese does) I would replace it with bigger, more obscure English words.

But this is actually not one of those times.

Another thing Komaeda is no stranger to is making random pop culture references. He does it more than you would think for a character like him.

While "Thinking Time" isn't a reference to any specific Japanese media per se, it's Japanese game show lingo.

For example, a tough question is given to the contestants, and they have 30 seconds to think of the answer before being forced to give one. These 30 seconds are called "Thinking Time".

I don't know the English equivalent. I know there's a countdown timer in stuff like Jeopardy and Minute to Win It, but I don't think they say anything. Sometimes it's "You have [x] seconds, good luck!" Or "and...start!" or suchlike.

I guess in that case, this line is better localized as:

KOMAEDA: Let's start! You have 30 seconds on the clock...good luck!

(I chose 30 seconds because that's how long the "Make your Selection" part lasts maximum).

2. When ranting about hope, does Komaeda speak more clearly, more confidently?

Yes!

In scenes like post- Chapter 1 trial, where Komaeda monologues to the audience for a few minutes before being knocked out - where he is rambling on and on - his speech is noticeably smoother with less pauses or filler injections. I would also venture to say the way he speaks makes it sound like he is stating facts, that he is very confident in his assertions.

3. Komaeda's Hope Speech on the laptop

Firstly, I want to point somethings out...unrelated to the hope speech itself, but just fun to note.

The garbled, loud noise you hear sometimes where Komaeda is speaking is not gibberish (listen here, volume warning). For whatever reason, the English version did not have Bryce Papenbrook record lines for this, and still uses the Japanese version.

It doesn't reveal any new information, sadly. And I can't make out the second one...but it's highly likely in that line I linked that Komaeda is saying 希望は絶望なんかに負けないんだ or "Hope will never lose to despair."

When it comes to the scrambled text...I've never been much of a decoder, but I can point some stuff out.

For one, I'm 99% sure the Japanese team probably provided the translators with the full, unscrambled text so they could better translate it.

That said, it's not impossible to figure this out.

<まじむかつく+超Ｙさしい２こんなにEEものｇ１０２＄うRしｓ～＝～＋いｄｓねうれOｒｚ』

まじむかつく is a term that means "extremely irritated" hence "seriously pissing me off".

The + is the same in both version, I assume it means "and".

The next part needs a little explaining. In Japanese, all consonants (for the most part) are followed by a vowel. on a Japanese keyboard, if you do not finish typing the character, only the consonant shows up.

for example, な is "na". but if you only type the n and don't follow with the a, you get ｎ.

There's a lot of Japanese slang based off this. To type ん you have to type "n" twice. so, a slang form of konnichiwa (こんにちは) is shortened to こん, konn. But it got shortened even further to こｎ.

so, 超Ｙさしい requires a bit of guesswork, as there are several sounds that start with "y", like ゆ yu, よ yo, や ya. the さしい at the end tells us it's an adjective.

超 in this case means "very", like "very expensive" or "very awesome".

Likely, Yさしい is やさしい, which is either "kind" or "easy".

This makes 超Ｙさしい either "extremely kind/nice" or "extremely simply/easy".

Official translators wrote it as "hella nice", aka "very kind".

Beyond that I start to get bad at this xD I don't know where they get "I can't believe something odd like this is only $102".

The 2 may be に, as 2 in Japanese is pronounced に(ni), and に is a particle.

I think the ＥＥ Is to be read like いい (ii) in Japanese. And the ｇ might be が (ga)?

超やさしいにこんなにいいものが１０２＄

こんなにいいもの would be "Such nice stuff" or "Really good stuff".

が at the end could be "But..." or "However..." but if the 102$ is connected somehow, then it may be an object particle.

Maybe it's "Really good stuff gotten easy for $102"

But that isn't fully true to the official English version, so maybe they were provided with more clear words to translate from. Like I said, I'm no good at codes.

The last part is easy though. うRし follows the same rule as before. うれし Ur(e)shi(i), which means "happy". I don't know what the "s" is, since it seems the sentence picks back up at いｄｓね, as うれしい is the full word. "d s" is probably d(e)s(u) with the ne particle at the end. うれしいですね, which means "I'm happy!"

And I'm guessing Orz is the emoticon.

Okay, sorry for rambling. When it comes to the actual speech, there is something interesting to note, albiet small.

The English version is correct in its translation, and the only thing I have to offer is the nuance behind how Komaeda makes his requests.

He says stuff like, "Respect me" "Praise me" "Build a bronze statue of me" and such. And he requests all of these by saying ～てくれ ~tekure.

I don't think Komaeda ever uses this outside of this speech. てくれ can be seen as rather rude. Though the formation looks like an imperative (very rude), it is not, since at it's core, てくれ means you are asking someone to do something for you, not ordering them. It is still the rudest way you can "request" something though.

It's not as severe as Komaeda yelling 黙れよ (damare yo) in 2.5, but it's close behind.

It does show he is being very callous and assertive in this scene, truly a 180 from him being casual but still respectful. This sort of demanding request tone coming from Komaeda is surprising, I feel.

Otherwise...there isn't really any nuance to add, I'm afraid. The speech is rather straight forward and the English version translates it well.

I hope this answers your questions!

#;noxiatalks2ya #nagito komaeda #danganronpa #sdr2 #dr #;translationtalk

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salethe2 · 1 year ago

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I’ve seen a lot of takes on this scene, and honestly they’re all so interesting, so I decided to give my perspective.

Okay, starting with Armand’s costume, which Carol Cutshall absolutely nailed. Here’s what she said about Armand’s costume design:

—“One of the things about Armand is he is so ancient and so powerful that he always presents himself as very open. Whereas some of the other characters are very covered up, he’s always very open because he really doesn’t see anyone as a threat to himself. He didn’t have any predators or any reason to be on guard, or be armoured.”

Personally, I find this design choice fascinating because, despite being a predator at the top of the food chain, vampires like Armand, especially as a coven leader, would normally need to remain vigilant. Yet, he’s completely at ease, even surrounded by other vampires.

I mean, look at him here. Sure, it’s not the deep, open V-neck shirts he wears in the interview scenes, but his outfit is still loose and open. And he’s literally surrounded by a group of vampires he knows are plotting against him. He even has his back to said vampires and yet, he’s not the least bit nervous in either situation!

Even with Daniel, he’s not nervous or afraid because he doesn’t initially see him as a threat.

So, if Armand isn’t scared of his own coven—a bunch of vampires ready to kill him at the first opportunity—or Daniel, who could potentially expose all his manipulations, then why on earth does he go into full armor mode to meet a seemingly inconsequential human he’s never encountered before? He’s literally in a turtleneck, shielding his most vulnerable area for crying at loud!

A for body language—honestly, Assad Zaman deserved an Emmy for this scene. We see Armand being aloof, a little suave and condescending, employing the whole, “I’m a four-century-old vampire; you’re just a lowly human” tactic. It’s like he’s sizing her up, wanting to understand who she is while simultaneously aiming to provoke her, curious to see how she will react.

As for his questions, he frames them in the way you might expect a coven leader to interrogate a human he’s about to turn. Questions like, “How will you survive? Are you okay with killing people and being a monster?” It almost seems like he’s trying to make her reconsider her decision to turn, but it’s all a facade.

Because the question he really wants to ask is the last one, and when he finally approaches it, his entire demeanor shifts.

He sheds the suave demeanor and shifts to a more serious tone, embodying what Louis describes as his "post-apocalyptic look." He towers over Madeleine, gazing down at her in an attempt to intimidate. At this point, Madeleine's expression turns genuinely nervous, perhaps even frightened—and understandably so. Yet, she holds her ground. It's then that Armand poses the crucial question he had come specifically to ask.

“And what will you do in a few decades when she throws herself into the fire? Because she will.”

Now, why does this question seem familiar? It’s because Armand has previously made a similar statement to Louis. He had forewarned Louis that Claudia’s mind was bound to deteriorate over time. Now, Louis tearfully countered that Armand couldn’t be sure of this, yet part of him probably recognized the truth in Armand’s words, which likely contributed to his emotional plea for Armand to look after her.

Armand realized then that Louis, despite his deep love for Claudia, lacked the resolve to keep her grounded, effectively sealing her fate, which seemed all but inevitable by that point. He even assigns Claudia the role of Lulu as a way to infantilize her and further break her spirit—almost as a test to gauge Louis’ reaction. Unfortunately, Louis does nothing about it, while Madeleine clearly recognizes it for the manipulation it is.

And what does she do next? Madeleine quickly gets Claudia out of that outfit and into one more fitting for her. By doing this, she threatens Armand’s plans without even realizing it.

It’s also interesting to note that the only time Armand is ever truly angry with Claudia is when he sees her with Madeleine. This reaction underscores the threat he perceives in their bond, disrupting his control of the situation, and here is why.

When Armand posed the question to Madeleine about what she would do when Claudia throws herself into the fire, her response was:

“Or maybe she won’t. You don’t know. Maybe I’m what she needs to survive.”

And the way she meets his gaze as she says this marks a shift in their conversation. Throughout their entire conversation, Madeleine often looks away and breaks eye contact, but not in this moment. Here, she meets his gaze head-on. Even though she is clearly nervous, and likely a bit scared, she holds his gaze because she is sure of her words. This is a powerful moment where Madeleine not only asserts her belief but also turns the tables—now, it’s Armand’s turn to feel uneasy.

Of course, you don’t see it in his face, but it’s evident in his body language. The way he becomes closed off, his hand fidgeting, and his gaze fixed ahead as if deep in thought. He doesn’t even refute her.

Even with Lestat, when he warns him about Nicky, Armand doesn’t stay silent; he confidently affirms his insights, and Lestat—of all people—clearly believes him. But with Madeleine, it’s a different story. He goes silent, not uttering a word in response. He doesn’t attempt to persuade her because he recognizes that her mind is made up, her resolve unshakable. But perhaps the words that really hit home for him were “You don’t know.” This was probably the words that sealed Madeleine’s fate because the last thing you want to say to a master manipulator and control freak like Armand is that they don’t know something. Because now, all of a sudden Claudia’s death isn’t a certainty anymore and he can’t just sit back and wait for her to lose her sanity. He must take matters into his own hands now.

Anyway, one might think that Madeleine and Claudia leaving, thereby leaving Louis all to Armand, would satisfy him. After all, one of the first things he asks Claudia and Madeleine is if they’re considering returning to Paris, and you might assume Madeleine’s answer pleased him. However, her answer doesn’t satisfy him, not after what Madeleine says soon after.

Madeleine’s words confirm that Claudia indeed loves Louis, and because Madeleine loves Claudia, she persuades her to return to Paris despite her obvious and valid disdain for the city. This revelation proves to Armand, even if they leave Louis, Madeleine and Claudia will always remain a significant part of Louis’s life. For Armand, this is intolerable. To him, Claudia is a dangerous manipulator and a competitor of Louis’s attention.

So even if they all lived happy, separate lives, Armand’s nature is such that he cannot live with the doubt and fear that Claudia might draw Louis away from him. Having been abandoned too many times in his life, deeply wounded by those closest to him, and left behind for others, he cannot risk experiencing that pain again.

Thus, in that moment when he speaks to Madeleine in the apartment, he decides that both she and Claudia need to be eliminated. I believe this was the real reason Armand was there under the pretense of turning her. He needed to evaluate how much of a threat Madeleine posed to his plans, and upon realizing she was basically a live grenade, he knew he needed to act swiftly to get rid of her. Because as long as Madeleine is present, so will Claudia, and as long as Claudia exists, Louis will never truly belong to Armand.

#iwtv #amc iwtv #my take on S0206 #interview with the vampire #thank you for listening to my rant #iwtv armand #madeleine #Madeleine was the person Armand really feared #Love her for that #interview with the vampire book spoilers #amc interview with the vampire #assad zaman #give Assad Zaman an Emmy for this #analysis #Interview with the vampire analysis

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demonslayerunhinged · 3 months ago

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cw: I'm going to be very blunt in this overly long post. Some things might rub you the wrong way if not offend you, so if that happens, you know the procedure: unfollow → block → move on.

A few weeks ago…

Three of my posts about Genya, Shizu and Sanemi caught the attention of and were the subject of discussion among a couple of weirdos. After I discovered all the crap they were spewing on their circle jerk of a server, I then went on a rage-fueled posting spree with screenshots and lots of insults towards them especially towards princeblue and pomchihuahua. I made the posts private but if you're curious here's the link.

You're probably thinking: Omg bitch, you're still on this? 🙄

Yes, yes I am. It's so fucking easy to move on from an incident when you're not the one being attacked or are the one doing the attacking. It's just like that saying the tree remembers what the axe forgets or something and it's my blog, fuck you.

Anyway, it really pissed me off that they were taking my post so seriously, despite me putting multiple disclaimers that these were theories. Proof:

And even if I didn't add disclaimers, can no one make theories anymore? Can no one make jokes or shit posts? I mean, I know we're living in a dystopian world, but the last place I want to be reminded about it is on my tiny, obscure fucking Tumblr blog. You don't have to (and honestly shouldn't) agree with everything I post! In fact, I would love to have a different pov and a respectful, engaging discussion. And even if you think Ugh this shit is so ass, just scroll past and forget about me! Unfollow me! Block me! I have made two posts literally begging people to do this because I didn't want to get involved in this kind of shit.

Talking shit about me in a place where I don't have the opportunity to defend myself, deliberately misunderstanding my posts and making assumptions of my beliefs based on said post is one thing. But minimizing the shittiness of your actions when called out, painting me as the crazy person for my justified anger at your shitty actions, and using your minor members as a shield to deflect scrutiny. That's just horrible, if not downright insidious. especially from someone who describes herself as a 'nice' person.

The so-called apology I got from pomchihuahua was so insincere, and it was just a way to brush past their actions so they could make the link to their shitty server public again. I never got an apology from princeblue; all I got were a series of pretentious and condescending messages and a manipulative post where she made me look like I was the crazy one, infiltrating her server and harassing her members who are minors. She also minimized and sanitized her actions by explaining that it was just a private discussion among friends that got a bit heated with a few dickish words thrown here and there, despite the fact that:

1.) It's a public server, so anyone who joins and lurks in that channel would think I'm some asshole that advocates for child abuse and slanders single mothers.

2.) It wasn't just a 'heated' discussion with just a few dicky things being said, not only did they completely misunderstand my post — so much so that it was like they were talking about another post by someone else — but they talked about my blog like it was (and I hate this word) slop. She said stated that she couldn't stand me and that she was seething with hate (the screenshots are in the linked private post) like I killed her dog or something.

3.) She kept stressing that I didn't censor the usernames of the shit talkers who happen to be minors despite her asking me to, all in an attempt to make me look like some kind of minor-harasser. The minors in question didn't censor my username or those of the people who commented on my posts that they bashed. So why should I?

Side tangent but, I've noticed that lately the internet has some kind of obsession with the protection of minors and put them on some pedestal like they're unassuming babies who aren't capable of real harm or aware of their actions. Thus, they should be shielded from the consequences of said actions and shouldn't be called out for them.

I don't subscribe to such beliefs. Not only is it stupid, it's dangerous. This belief is the basis of laws that allow minors to get away with heinous crimes in some communities and even countries. Why should they get to live on, blissfully unaffected, while their victims suffer? Why shouldn't we be allowed to call them out on their shitty behavior? If they're old enough to throw shit at a stranger on the internet, they're old enough to have that shit thrown right back at them. If that makes me a heartless asshole, so be it.

Anyway, I was angry (as you can tell by my online crashout) because as someone who takes a lot of time agonizing over every single post and making sure my words are clear and that I provide the right resources — all these accusations and comments hurt. The situation sucked the joy out of me, ruined my whole week, and made me feel so shitty that I wanted to stop posting all together.

Because, what's the point? Why post anything if all I'm going to do is spend my time and energy not just worrying about the content, but also about being shredded by assholes who won't even attempt to understand my words?

I have this weird belief that my blog will only be seen by those who like it or if not want to understand what I'm saying and would give me the opportunity to explain myself. I know it's stupid, but that's just how I wish my blog was. This whole situation just burst the bubble of that belief and now makes me so paranoid about everything. Even now that I want to continue posting again, I'm still hesitatant. Every time I see some untitled/unnamed blog follow me, I think that it's either one of princeblue's followers hate stalking me for more posts they can rip apart on their stupid server.

One thing pomchihuahua said in her defense that really irritated me was that Shizu reminded her of a family member and that's why she attacked my posts and why she made the counter post defending Shizu.

Yes offense, but that is insane. Like the you-seriously-need-professional-help kind of insane.

Don't believe me? Let's recontextualize her explanation:

Say Shizu is a mass-produced doll that being marketed as a single mother with the blurb on the back of the box. A girl, let's call her Suzy, has one of these dolls. It's her favorite doll, and she believes the story on the box is the one true story for this doll because Shizu looks like her mom and the story mirrors her mom's life.

When she goes out with her friends who all have the same Shizu doll and agree with her about the story for it, she sees another girl let's call her Kacy, playing with the Shizu doll, but it's different; the girl put on different clothes on the doll and Suzy could overhear the girl telling her friends that this Shizu doll is a businesswoman who's travelled to space or something.

Suzy gets enraged, she starts shouting to her friends — loud enough for Kacy to hear. She calls Kacy names, talks about how Kacy doesn't understand Shizu, that Shizu can only be in the clothes she came in, and that the only story that matters is what's written on the back of the box. Kacy is a bad person for dressing Shizu in different clothes and giving her a different story.

When asked why she acted this way, Suzy explains that Shizu reminds her of her mom, so anyone dressing the doll up differently or giving it a different story makes her defensive, angry and causes her to lash out.

Now tell me, does Suzy seem like a well-adjusted individual to you? Doesn't it seem like she needs to talk to a therapist? Like my guy, are you good?! Are you running a fever?! Do you need a Kit Kat?!

I don't give a fuck if a character reminds you of someone or if you're emotionally attached to them. That DOES NOT give you the right to attack or talk shit about people because of some 2d drawings. And if you think this is perfectly acceptable behavior, then you need to take a long, hard look in a mirror for some self-reflection and to remove the brick that's lodged in the back of your head because you obviously have some sort of brain damage.

Who are you to tell others what they should and shouldn't like? Who are you to tell others how they should and shouldn't interprete these characters? Who are you to think that your analysis/interpretion is the only correct one? Who are you to attack people just because they happen to have opinions that differ from yours? Who are you to control people's behavior to fit your own narrow, close minded and boring point of view? Just who THE FUCK do you think you are?

This is the kind of shit that makes fandoms so inhospitable and draining. When a couple of dry, basic, joyless, overly serious, overly sensitive, fun-sucking, Sarah j mass/Colleen Hoover/steel-wrapped-in-velvet-reading, no-life-or-rose-toy-having, Club Chalamet-looking, terminally online losers who get high on the smell of their own farts decide that they're the only ones who understand a character or a piece of fiction and treat any other interpretation or analysis like it's a personal attack. Then to make themselves feel better, make counter virtue signalling posts that do nothing but allow them to express their smug, self-affirming, self-righteous moral superiority.

I'm tired y'all, the world seems so shitty right now. Every day it' seems like the world it's like we're sliding back into the dark ages. I wanted this blog to be a safe space where I can just yap about stuff I like and stuff, and connect with people who share similar interests. Not a place to get policed, dragged and scrutinized over every fucking sentence or action when there's already enough of that in real life. I'm done with over-explaining and disclaimers, I refuse to tie myself into knots to accomodate the stupidity of imbeciles who're too lazy to read.

If you bite me, I bite back. As you can tell from my other posts i'm not above insulting and name-calling. Don't expect civility from me when you didn't offer one in the first place.

Like can a bitch breathe? Christ.

*Side note: I know I made this post which is similar to what I'm complaining about, but I just used the screenshot as to rant about the misunderstood complaints in the fandom. I mentioned the bullshit excuses she made when she was called out. But that was it. I didn't attack the OP personally, shit talk about her other posts or make assumptions of her beliefs. I didn't even mention her name at all in her post. So it doesn't count ha!

#kny #demon slayer #sanemi shinazugawa #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer anime #kny anime #kimetsu no yaiba anime #anime #anime and manga #shizu shinazugawa #sanemi #kny genya #genya shinazugawa #fandom discourse #kny fandom #virtue signaling #morality police

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maddie-dog-story-blog · 11 months ago

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The Birthday - 7

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

My stomach's rumbling woke me up. I felt incredibly hungry. Despite that, I hesitated before opening my eyes.

My dreams had been some of the most horrific I had ever had, and they felt real. One in particular I swore actually happened. In that dream, Melody found out about my ABDL fetish and then hypnotized and blackmailed me into becoming her adult baby. I had spent a day being diapered, pissing my pants, humping a teddy bear, and nursing on her tit.

But, despite how real that felt, laying here in bed, I knew it had to have been a dream. In that dream, I had fallen asleep in our living room on the couch. I could feel that I was sleeping in my bed now. There was no way that Melody could ever carry me from our living room back to the bedroom. Relief washed over me at the realization that that must all have been a creation of my subconscious at the same time my stomach audibly rumbled again.

Moments later, I felt a familiar hand reach over my waist and gently rub my belly.

"Oh, sounds like somebody has a grumbly tummy! Is it because the baby's hungry or is he working on a little present for Mommy?"

My eyes immediately shot open as my wife whispered in my ear. There was no way! That dream couldn't have been real! I felt my cheeks start to redden as I slowly came to terms with the fact that my nightmare may have been real and, worse, may not be over yet.

Hesitantly, I decided to talk.

"What'cha mean, Mommy?" My words came out in a lisp around the rubber nipple occupying my mouth. My worst fears were confirmed. My nightmare wasn't a nightmare. It was real life, and I was still living through it.

I felt a soft hand tug at the back waistband of what had to be a diaper strapped around my waist at the same time as another hand cupped my ass and pressed damp padding up into my body. Melody was checking my fucking diaper.

"Well, baby, I know there are two things you didn't do yesterday that all babies need to do. You didn't really eat anything and you haven't made messies for Mommy," my wife said with the condescending, motherly tone she has adopted this weekend. "The way that tummy of yours is grumbling, I bet it's a little bit of both."

"I'm not gonna poop my pants!" I lisped out indignantly. "How did I get to bed?" I asked, both genuinely curious and trying to change the topic of conversation.

As I asked, I moved to sit up and noticed two new pieces of clothing, other than the wet diaper and pacifier, for the first time. As I pushed myself up in bed, I looked down at my hands. Instead of seeing the long, slightly calloused fingers I was used to, I noticed I was wearing a pair of baby blue, padded, locking mittens that completely immobilized my hands.

"What the fuck?!?" I exclaimed, holding my mittened hands in front of my face. Next to me, Melody, wearing my favorite blue lace nightie, sat up and glared sternly at me.

"Language mister! I will not have my baby saying naughty words!" Melody chastised me. "Do not make me punish you."

I stared at my wife, fuming. Now I wasn't allowed to use my hands? I was not a fucking adult baby. I was not fucking helpless. I would say what I fucking wanted and do what I fucking wanted. That's what I thought to myself, at least, until I felt the sudden urge to have my morning pee. Suddenly, the irrational, horrible fear of the toilet struck me again, and I remembered what 'punishment' from 'Mommy' actually meant.

"Otay, Mommy," I said, defeated, as I made the disgusting, humiliating choice to release my bladder into my already soaked diaper.

"Good baby! Smart move," Melody said, grinning as the hissing sound of urine hitting already wet padding radiated from my crotch. "And good job for using your diapers like a good baby!" My wife then leaned over and gave me an encouraging peck on the cheek.

"As to how you got here," Melody continued, "Well, despite being a baby, you are too heavy for Mommy to carry. But, did you know your hypnosis doesn't just go away while your sleeping? In some ways, it's actually easier to use when you're already unconscious!"

I swallowed nervously as Melody leaned over to her nightstand and grabbed her phone. "Take a look, big boy!"

I watched as Melody pulled up the first of what looked like numerous videos on her phone. This one started with a shot of me half naked, except for the diaper I was currently wearing, laying on the couch. She pressed play. Her voice radiated out of the small speaker as the image started moving.

*"Baby, can you hear me?" Melody's voice asked from behind the camera. My sleeping body just grunted.

Melody tried again, "Baby, Mommy says answer my questions without waking up. Can you hear me?"

This time, I respond. "Yes, Momma."

"Mommy says crawl to the bedroom," Melody ordered.

I watch my body roll onto the floor, get on all fours, and crawl to the bedroom, completely unbothered by the fact that my wife is laughing at my swaying, diapered butt.*

Watching myself moving without having any memory of it was disturbing to say the least. I put my hand to my head in shock, only to be reminded of the mittens strapped to my wrist. Melody noticed my reaction and smiled.

"I have to admit, it was so fun to watch you be so compliant, I couldn't resist playing some more after you fell asleep. Do you want to watch more, baby?" My wife asked.

There was nothing in the world I wanted less than to watch another video of myself meekly and unconcernedly debasing myself for Melody's pleasure. I said as much to Melody.

"No, Mommy."

Melody put her finger to her lip in thought, then smiled. "No, I think you should watch them. They are pretty entertaining and show just how good of a baby you can be!"

I turned my head away from the phone as she hit play on the next video. Melody was not pleased.

"Bad boy! Mommy says watch the videos."

Involuntarily, my head snapped back to phone, forced to obey my wife's orders. She restarted the next video.

*I was sitting in the carpet in front of our bed, my legs spread in front of me, my diapered crotch on display. I sucked contentedly on the pacifier between my lips as I stared off in a clear trance. The crisp sound of another of my wife's giggles sounded from behind the camera.

"Do you need to go potty, baby?" Melody asked.

I answer monotonously from behind my pacifier, "Yeth, Mommy."

"Go potty for Mommy, baby," Melody instructed my hypnotized body.

I feel my eyes grow wide as I watch myself immediately scrunch up my face in concentration and lean forward a little. Then, as I, unfortunately, expected, I heard a tell tale hissing sound complemented by the yellowing of the once blue wetness indicator on the front of the diaper.

To my horror, the video didn't end when I finished peeing.

"Do you like how your wet diapy feels, baby?" the version of my wife video taping the scene asked. My tranced-out self on the screen smiled broadly behind the shield of the pacifier in his mouth.

"Yeth, Mommy," I said.

"Why don't you play in your diapers a little bit, I bet that would feel nice!" Melody's voice rang out again.

I wanted to tear my eyes away. I didn't want to watch what I did next. But, because of my wife's command, I couldn't resist it.

I watched as, just as I was told too, I began playing with my wet diaper. The video version of myself got onto his knees so the soaked padding was now dangling just off the floor. He began to poke and proud at the stuffing, examining the wet diaper. Then, disgustingly, he started to bounce.

Slowly at first, and then faster, the 'me' on Melody's phone quickly lowered all of his weight to the ground, landing on the urine soaked padding, letting out a wet squelch. The speed picked up as video-me found he enjoyed the sound and sensation. In mere moments, I was watching myself bouncing up in down on the floor in my wet diaper, uncoordinatedly clapping my hands like an idiot toddler.

"Good boy! Good boy to bounce for Mommy! Tell Mommy how much you love your wet diapy, love!" Melody's voice rang out again.

"I wuv mah diapies DIS MUCH," the me on screen said, holding his hands out as far as he could as he bounced.

The video cut off in the middle of Melody's torrent of laughter.*

As the video ended, I felt the pacifier drop out of my mouth as my jaw dropped in horror.

"No," was all I could say, my voice barely above a whisper.

I remembered from my hours of research and writing ABDL fiction learning that you can't get someone to do something under the influence of hypnosis that they didn't truly want to do. I didn't truly want to do that, did I? I didn't want to become a giant baby who wanted nothing more than to bounce around in his piss-soaked Pampers? Right?

Melody didn't let me dwell on my existential crisis. She wanted to add to my psychological torture.

"How about just one more?" She said as she pressed play on the device.

*I saw myself sitting in the same location and position as in the previous video. However, unlike the last video, my diaper, the same one I am currently wearing, is soaked.

"Do you want to play a game with me, baby?" Melody asked.

"Yeth, Mommy," video me blathered at the phone.

"Do you want to really act like a baby?" My wife asked.

Video me didn't respond verbally. Instead, he just turned his head to the side as he suckled his pacifier, looking like a confused dog.

"I want you to show me how much of a drooly, babbling baby you can be for me. Can you show me that you can drool and talk like a baby?" Melody asked.

My stomach dropped as I watched what looked to be a genuine smile cross the tranced-out version of myself's face. Instead of answering verbally, he popped the pacifier out of his mouth and let spit and dribble start to build around his lips.

"Pfffftttttt!" Drool and spittal flew through the air and dripped down my chest as video-me blew a raspberry. Then, to my horror, I started to blather mindlessly while continuing to drool. "Goo, gaaahh, ooooo, goo, gahh!" I watched myself say, each word accompanied by a gush of saliva.

"Oh, very interesting, tell me more, baby," Melody chuckled back as if she was talking to an actually infant.

I watched as the person occupying my body, as at this point, I knew it couldn't have been me, giggle in response to my wife's words then shove the four fingers on his right hand into his mouth, suck on them, then continue to 'talk.'

"Ooo, doo gah, maaaa, maaa, mamamamaaaaa," I watched my body yell out from behind my fingers.

"Such a good little talker!" Melody said condescendingly, "Do you want to give Mommy a big, drooly, baby kiss?"

No, was all I could think as I watched the past version of myself pull his fingers out of his mouth, prop himself up on all fours, and lean up towards the camera, drool covered lips puckered into a big circle. The scene screamed of a toddler kissing their mother rather than a sensual or even affection-filled kiss typical between husband and wife.

As I watched myself extend my lips up towards the camera on all fours, Melody's face briefly enter the frame before I saw myself reach up and give her a sloppy, drooly kiss. I wanted to vomit.

"Oh, that's my big, stupid, drooly baby!" Melody said on the video. The words cut to my soul.

As I watched, the me in the video happily settled back down onto his wet diaper, bouncing up and down and sucking on his fingers as he giggled.

"Whose my big stupid baby?! Who is it?" Melody continued. I watched myself giggle. "That's right! You are!"

The video me replied by smiling around his fingers, leaning forward, and letting out a resounding fart into his diaper.

The video ended, like the others, with my wife laughing at me.*

I felt a knot growing in my stomach as I sat on my bed, and Melody's phone cut to black. That wasn't me. It couldn't have been me. But it was.

You can't force someone under hypnosis to do something they don't want to. The phrase rang out in my head again and again. I didn't want that. I don't want that. But, that was me. And, hadn't I just wet myself with barely a second thought? What was wrong with me.

"Did you like my videos?" My wife asked with a big grin on her face. As she spoke, she tucked the pacifier--my pacifier?--in my mouth.

My stomach gurgled even louder than before. Melody reached over and rubbed it again.

"Well, that means one of two things, and I can only take care of one. Let's go get breakfast, baby boy!" She said cheerily.

Feeling broken, I got on my feet and followed her, wet diaper dangling between my legs, to the kitchen.

NEXT CHAPTER

#ab/dl kink #ab/dl diaper #ab/dl couple #ab/dl story time #diaper stories #ab/dl caption #diaper regression #ab/dl mommy #humiliation kink #ab/dl boy #mdlb relationship #md/lb #md/lb relationship #the birthday

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