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aliwritex · 2 months ago

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smutty franco x italian!reader, literally just that

hey girly here you go enjoy ;) also, this is accidentally 2.something k lmk if i got any italian wrong pls, chat gpt translated it for me I kinda love this

You had to feel at least a little silly, getting ready for a date with a guy you had talked to for less than a week.

But hey, at least he took action.

All you knew about him was that he spoke Spanish and raced F2. When you saw his profile on the dating app you did chuckle a little, like you usually do with most guys in the app, they all just seem to make you cringe – especially the shirtless candid and the ‘Djing’.

He didn’t exactly tell you where he would take you so you put on your ‘first date’ outfit, short black dress, hair down and heels, just about any men’s fantasy. Though you did opt for kitten heels because your friend mentioned — after her quick google search — that he might be a little short.

He picked you up by the lobby of your building after you insisted that he didn’t need to go upstairs. Franco did wait for you outside of the car, though, opening the door and helping you in.

“You look more beautiful in person” he said as he settled and started the car.

“You too. You should rethink those pictures, they don’t do you justice.”

“Was that a compliment?” he looked at you.

Now how you ended up with him pressing you against your living room wall was a good question. You would’ve guessed it was the red wine he chose.

All you knew is that he was a really good kisser. His lips worked so intensely against yours that when you pushed your tongue into the mix you could taste your lipgloss on them. His hands were on your waist and hips, the touch making you lose all composure.

“Fran” you sighed, the nickname he had told you about leaving your lips so sweetly when he moved on to your jaw.

His teeth grazed the skin, from your jaw to the strap of your dress, making you shiver. Your hands were up in his hair, nails scratching his scalp and neck, you could tell it made his hairs go up so you smiled at yourself. You could feel your body melting against his as he worked on your neck, wet kissed and licks making you let out sighs that just made his confidence grow.

You reached for your ankle to take off your heels, your knee brushing against his crotch when you folded.

“Mierda” he whispered, his breath hot against your neck.

You put your foot down and grabbed his face with both hands, his brows furrowed, cheeks blushed and lips stained red from the wine, a hint of glitter in them from your lipgloss.

“My room is down the hall”

He just nodded and kicked his own shoes off, his hands dropping to your ass to lift you up from the floor. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried walked to your room. You opened the door and buried your face in his neck in embarrassment when you remembered the stated you left your room.

“A lot of thought into getting ready for me huh?” he teased.

There were multiple different outfits on your bed, shoes by the dresser and makeup on your desk. Franco chuckled as you shook your head, about to apologize when he walked in.

“It’s okay. You mind if i throw this on the floor?”

You just shook your head and held on tightly to him as his arm left your ass and swiped across your bed, letting all your clothes fall to the ground. He sat on the edge of the bed, letting you rest on his lap.

The way he had you sitting made your dress ride up your legs, exposing your ass and the fact that you were either wearing a thong or nothing underneath it, because all he could see in the mirror was your bare, round cheeks. He took his hands to them, squeezing as his lips met yours again.

You groaned at the feeling of his hands on your bare skin, big and warm. Your own hands traveled down his body, pushing his top up till you met his skin, fingers brushing up and feeling the short hair right above his jeans. While your lips explored down his neck, Franco’s hand pressed your lower back forward, making you feel his hardening cock beneath you. You let a moan escape against his skin and pull away.

“Let me take this off” you muttered, hands moving to his sides and lifting his shirt up and over his head.

His lips went back to yours immediately, stealing a hot and intense kiss. His agile fingers worked the buttons of your dress till it exposed your chest, the touch lingering on your skin for longer than it should. They grazed your tits, making you shiver and pull away from the kiss when he gently pinched your nipple, his gaze dropped to your chest.

Franco watched your hard nipples against his fingers, circling them. Your back arched into his gentle touch. Your own hands that rested on his chest made their way down to fidget with his waist band. Your light touches making each other hot all over, so you finally pulled away from him and fell to your knees in front of him.

You watched him throw his head back and look back down at you, fingers already reaching for his button. His hips lifted and helped you get rid of his jeans that pooled by his feet. Your eyes met his through your lashes as your hands reached for his boxers. You were basically salivating at the view, his hard cock fighting the restrain of his underwear.

You ran your palm on him, feeling his breath hitch and his cock twitch in anticipation. Your hand reached inside, taking him out. His tip was red and leaking, so irresistible, so you let your tongue out and licked the pearl of precum that rested there. Your eyes not leaving his as you did.

He was mesmerized by the view. You on your knees, your dress halfway undone, showing your tits and hard nipples to him, lips red and puffy and your hand wrapped around his base.

You decided to stop teasing and took his tip into your mouth. He tasted heavenly. He watched as you let spit drip down the side of your mouth purposely, getting him wet. Your hair fell on your face was you dragged your lips down on him but his hand pushed it away, making you look back up at him.

You were unbelievably slow with your movements, lips dragging perfectly around him as your tongue worked the underside of his cock. The hand at the base working in twists too, making sure to pay attention to every bit of him.

His hand on your hair and his soft moans sent hot waves through your body, going straight between your legs, making your panties more soaked by the second. All you could do was press your thighs together in hope to relieve the pressure on your clit.

Every time you sucked harder his hold tightened on your hair, the soft tug driving you insane. You felt him twitching multiple times in your mouth and at that point, you wouldn’t even mind if he came down your throat. But he pulled you away. His hand on your hair lifting you up like you were a doll. He watched you for a second before saying anything, eyes glued to your plump wet lips.

“Come back here” he whispered and you got up from your knees.

Franco helped you back on his lap and this time his hands traveled up your thighs immediately, bringing your dress up till you helped him take it off.

“Sei cosi bella”

You blushed pathetically at his Italian, bringing your lips to his neck to hide it. He took a hand to your chin though, lifting your face to kiss your lips. He let himself fall back on the bed, taking you with him before flipping you around. As soon as he was on top his hand dropped from your face to your chest. He ducked his head to take a nipple into his mouth as his hand traveled down your middle.

When he reached your thigh he spread you open. His fingers dancing around above your slit, teasing before he lowered them even further and swiped between your folds. He sighed against your tit when he felt how wet you were, his fingers easily massaging around your lips with your juices.

“I’m gonna-“ he tried to announce, against your skin but you cut him off with a quick nod.

His fingers slipped inside of you, or tried to, he hadn’t anticipated how tight you were. He slipped them back out, making you whine just to push a single one in. Your hands were making a complete mess of his hair as his lips worked your neck and chest non stop. When he felt your walls opening up for him he took a second finger to your hole.

You welcomed his fingers in easily this time, moaning when you felt his fingertips against your cervix. You felt every single hair in your body go up when he curled his fingers, touching all the right spots. If for a minute you doubted bringing a stranger to your home this made it worth it.

His thumb reached for your clit, circling it gently.

He was trying to tease you like you did to him. His fingers all moved slowly, but deep and determinated. He could feel the spongy spot on his fingertips, making you moan every time he pressed against it. You were a mess already and he hadn't even fucked you.

"So close" you whispered and took your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to stop the ridicolous sounds that threatned to go past them.

Your confession made him work harder, fingers moving faster as his mouth went back down to your nipple. The waves of pleasure attacked you shortly and Franco could see and feel every little reaction you had -- muscles tensing, legs trembling, wall clenching around his finger and the sting hold on his hair, tugging his face to kiss you. Your hips moved slightly against his palm to ride down your high, catching your breath when he pulled away to watch your face.

"Protection?"

A simple request in complete desperation to have any attention back on his cock.

You nodded and pulled away from him, grabbing the condom from your nightstand while he took off his underwear. You were both in a rush to have each other again so you hurriedly ripped it open as he settled against your pillows. Franco groaned when your hands touched him again, pumping his cock to ajust the condom.

His hand met your waist to gently guide you over his lap. You stood on your knees, hands holding his face up to look into his insanly green eyes before kissing him. You shoved your tongue inside his mouth as he lined you up on him. His big hands settled on your hips and started pushing you down.

You both let out deep sighs when he bottomed out.

“Così stretto”

You nodded, bitting your bottom lip as you felt him stretch you open. Your hips started moving almost involuntarily, back and forth, his hands moving with you. Your small movements allowed you to feel every inch of his cock dragging inside your cunt. But in a matter of seconds you needed more. You started grinding faster against him.

Just as your thighs were about to give out Franco flipped you under him. Your back hit the mattress as he penetrated you again, kneeling in front of you. His hands guided each of your thighs to rest on his shoulders, almost folding you in half when he lowered his body to mouth at your nipple. You moaned, surprised at the stretch.

“Everything alright?” he asked, looking up from your chest, accent heavy.

You only nodded, burying your finger into his curls, that at that were a complete mess but so were you. His hips started moving, snapping against yours as his cock filled you up perfectly.

Your other hand traced his chest all the way down to his v line, feeling all the muscles contract. He was fucking perfect. When you looked back up you met his eyes screwed shut, his brows furrowed and his plump lips parted, a moan leaving them.

You pulled him down to attack his neck, kissing, licking and biting as he kept fucking into you. His hand dropped between your bodies and his fingers met your clit, circling it firmly.

In minutes he felt you clench around him, holding him tightly inside you. A curse left his mouth, though you weren’t sure what it meant. But your clenching made him drop his head between your neck and shoulder, your legs dropping to be supported by his forearms as he thrusted harder.

Your hands were on his back as he came, nails scratching softly at the pale skin. His moans echoed between your ear and the mattress. He tried to keep fucking you but his softening cock slipped out of you. And thank god it did, because it made him pull away and lay between your legs.

You got up on your elbows to watch him but as soon as your eyes laid on him your head fell back. He looked so pretty as he stuck out his tongue, giving your clit a harsh, teasing lick. Your hand dropped to his hair, tugging at it again, this time to have him closer to your cunt. His fingers made their way back inside you, instantly curling up and making you see stars.

All the previous stimulation had you falling apart for him in seconds as he sucked your clit. Your legs closed around his head and a loud moan left your throat. He let you grind your hips on his face, using him to ride down your orgasm before he licked you clean.

“Cazzo” you sighed.

#franco colapinto x reader #franco colapinto smut #franco colapinto imagine #franco colapinto #a writes #fave #might be one of the best smut i’ve ever written

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fatuismooches · 2 years ago

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a lesson in love.

The puppet that had recently begun to live in your village had been acting strange around you lately. His name was Kabukimono, and you had never met anyone like him before. You distinctly remember the first time you saw him, Niwa and the others crowded around him. He had the fairest skin, long luscious locks, and clothing that only the highest-standing nobles in Inazuma could afford. He almost reminded you of a princess.

Although the other villagers accepted him, they were still quite reserved towards him. Niwa, Katsuragi, and a few others were the only ones who would smile and laugh with him, ruffling his hair as if he were a normal human. And though Kabukimono was greatly pleased by this, you could see he was still rather lonely. After all, his friends worked most of the day while he was left to his own devices as of now.

You were fascinated by the beautiful boy who seemed enamored with the most simplest of things life had to offer - collecting fruits (especially Lavender Melon, which seemed to be his favorite), playing with finches and other small creatures, and shyly yet curiously watching the other children play from a distance. You were quite entranced with him, and so you struck up a conversation with him. From that day forward, Kabukimono was a changed puppet.

Kabukimono would constantly stare at you and then immediately look away when you turned to face him. He would trail behind you like a lost puppy until you acknowledged him, and quickly scurry to your side. You would wake up to the puppet sitting outside your house, waiting to start the day with you (you were greatly concerned once you realized he sat there for the whole night.) He’d insist on carrying everything for you, and although he was very strong, he did not have a good sense of balance, and well… you can guess how that turned out. He was quite literally attached to your hip, and it didn’t take long for everyone else to notice as well.

The kids would giggle uncontrollably and start to whisper: “Kabuki and [Name], sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-”, you quickly clamped your hands over their mouths before they could say anything else, while the puppet was confused the whole time. Couples would shoot you knowing looks. Niwa’s wiggling eyebrows and grin did not help you much either. Kabukimono’s love-struck behavior only increased but the problem was that he himself did not understand why he felt this way. Often you would see him with a stumped expression. And well, you had grown a soft spot for the puppet too… you completely adored him. You wanted to make him happy. But first, you must talk with him.

It was a normal day where you were doing nothing in particular, simply enjoying the calmness while Kabukimono sat next to you as well. The puppet had trouble understanding the concept of “relaxing” and doing nothing but he did feel the stress leaving his body whenever he engaged in this activity with you. The birds chirped, the breeze was cool, and everything felt perfect for some conversation.

“Kabukimono, have you been alright lately?” you questioned, hoping to get him to talk about his feelings. The puppet perked up at your voice.

“Me? Yes, I’ve been fine. Why?”

“Well, sometimes I see you looking a little down. I was just wondering why.” Kabukimono was surprised you noticed that, and he felt a bit shy but happy at how much you paid attention to him.

“W-well, it’s nothing really,” he tried to reassure himself and you but you didn’t buy it.

“You know you can tell me anything,” you advised. “I want to help you with whatever’s bothering you.” Kabukimono chewed on his lip, persuaded by your kindness. A determined expression appeared on his face.

“I think I’m sick, [Name],” he said it so seriously you were caught off guard. Out of all answers, you were not expecting that.

“Sick…? But you know you cannot get sick,” you said, trying to hint at the fact that puppets could not contract illnesses.

“I know that, but there’s just no other explanation I can think of! I asked some of the children in the village, and my symptoms line up with what they said!”

“Well, what are your symptoms?”

“My body gets really hot, my palms get sweaty… and my chest starts to feel funny,” he explained.

“Hmm, that does sound like a sickness.” The puppet let out a resigned sigh but then straightened up again.

“But…”

“But?”

“These things… they only happen around you, [Name]. Around everyone else I’m fine, but then as soon as I see you, all these weird things start happening to me,” Kabukimono looked down at his lap bashfully, almost afraid his statement would offend you. Your heart completely melted.

“Hey, look at me, Kabukimono,” you requested, and the puppet slowly complied, looking at you with his shimmering, worried eyes. “Don’t give me that look,” you giggled. “I’m not mad. In fact, I think I know what’s wrong with you. But I… need to do a quick test on you to confirm. Is that okay?”

Hope appeared in his eyes as he nodded excitedly. “Oh, of course! But what do you need to do?”

“Here, give me your hands, Kabukimono,” you said gently, as you placed his soft palms on top of yours. The puppet’s stunned and red-faced reaction already told you everything you needed to know but you still had to take this slowly. “How do you feel right now?”

“I-, I…” Kabukimono struggled to find the words to describe his current state. All he felt was hot, hot, hot from the simple yet affectionate gesture. But the patient smile you gave him was comforting. “I feel very happy, and my mouth hurts from smiling so much. And my body is getting hot like I said before.”

“I see,” you nodded in understanding. You released his hands from yours, much to Kabukimono’s disappointment, but then you placed your hand on his cheek, immediately bringing back his giddiness. “What about now?”

“I feel so…” The puppet was cut off as your thumb suddenly moved to trace your lip. “Ah, it feels like my chest is going to explode!” You chuckled at his simplicity as you removed your hands from him.

“And you’re absolutely sure you only feel this way towards me?” Kabukimono shook his head rapidly.

“No! No, no one else. No one else comes close to you,” he declared, intent on making himself clear, still in awe at the tingly feeling your thumb left on his lips. Your heart sped up from his unintentional adorableness.

“Well, I think I know what you’ve been inflicted with,” you nodded in response. “Yes, it’s quite obvious to me now.” Kabukimono leaned in more, curiosity taking over his body. He was so interested to hear what a smart human like you would say.

“You’re not sick, Kabukimono. You’re simply feeling a rather intense emotion,” you said slowly, hoping not to confuse him. “You are in love,” you finished. Kabukimono’s face was frozen in shock, only a slight shaking of his mouth and eyes could differentiate him from a statue.

“Love… love, i-is that what this is…?” His voice had come to almost a whisper. “Love, like how those married couples love each other?” Suddenly the mental image of him kissing and holding you appeared in his mind and would not leave. “Love!” The puppet could not help but repeat the lovely word again and again. But then a realization hit him and his excitement came to a screeching halt.

“But love… love needs more than one person, does it not? You need to… oh,” the reality of the situation hurt him. Surely you would never return his love. Surely you were interested in someone else, someone who was human. He was just a no-good puppet. Quickly you found your words to comfort him.

“No, no, no, Kabukimono. Look at me, pretty. Please don’t look so forlorn. You need not worry, as I love you too. I love you with my whole heart,” you stated matter-of-factly, in a way that could not be disputed.

It felt like something was stuck in Kabukimono’s throat, as he found it hard to push words out. “You… love me?” You vigorously nodded in confirmation. “You love me,” he repeated as if saying it more and more would help it settle in. “You love me… such an amazing person loves me…”

You squeezed his hand in response. “Yes, I love you dearly, Kabukimono. I want us to be together,” you said softly. The puppet’s mouth opened and closed, not sure how to even respond to such tenderness. But what ended up coming out was a pitiful sob and streaming tears.

“Thank you for teaching me… thank you for loving me. I don’t know how I could-” The boy’s words began to slur as he cried. Although he loved you dearly, Kabukimono’s mind could only think about how you could abandon him as his creator did. Would you soon deem him unworthy or not good enough, and leave him too? You were taken aback at this drastic change in behavior but quickly pulled him into the reassuring warmth of your chest. You now understood what Niwa meant when he said he was an emotional puppet.

“Hey, hey, deep breaths, okay?” You rubbed Kabukimono’s back in gentle motions as you instructed him. “In, out… in, out, okay…?” The puppet followed your directions and with time, his sobs lessened and now he was a curled-up quiet mess that was in your arms. He would not move away from your chest, and you would be more concerned but you knew he did not need to breathe.

“You don’t need to apologize or thank me for anything. I don’t know what you’ve been through, but… I will always be here for you. You are a beautiful, kind soul. I am so happy to love you, my dearest,” you whispered, stroking his hair in a further attempt to calm him. The puppet almost felt like bawling again at your sincerity, but your voice was such a soft lull, all he wanted to do was take a break in your embrace.

“I love you, [Name]...” Kabukimono mumbled softly, as he fell asleep right there on your chest, knowing that he would be blessed with dreams with you instead of his abandonment.

lesson 1. lesson 2. lesson 3. lesson 4. lesson 5. lesson 6. lesson 7. lesson 8. lesson 9. lesson 10. bonus lesson.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #kabukimono x reader #scaramouche fluff #wanderer fluff #kabukimono #scaramouche headcanons #scaramouche #wanderer #kunikuzushi #scaramouche genshin #wanderer genshin #scaramouche fanfic

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xo-adeline · 10 months ago

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Could I request Isagi, Chigiri, and Kaiser getting jealous of their s/o's plushie collection of them?

-> Definitely didn’t write this when I should have been doing my photography work ✋ but whatever I mean I was literally just sitting outside so decided to make the most of it

Isagi

-> Having a famous football player as a boyfriend was nothing to sneeze at, I mean the paparazzi and the fact that he was never really around, but the good thing was there was a lot of merch of him all over the internet, and one day when you were alone in your moods you decided that you were gonna get some of the merch you found and eventually you had a whole collection of stuff

-> It wasn’t until much later that Isagi finally got home from one of his games and came to visit you just to see his normal spot, cuddling with you was now filled by one of many plushie versions of himself

-> Merely chuckled and took a couple of pictures at first before trying to take it out of your arms but that’s when he realized that you were not letting it go, and that’s when he started to get a little jealous of Mini him

-> It wasn’t until the morning that you realized that he had gotten home and were super excited to see him only for him to be a wee bit upset and wouldn’t tell you why, but you figured out pretty fast when he kept side-eyeing the plush versions of him sitting on your bed and desk

-> That’s when you got to laugh and hug him while assuring him that they were not there to replace him, but just to keep you company when he wasn’t around.

-> But knowing him he just suggested that you should just call him wherever you were about to go to sleep so he could still be with you no matter the time difference.

Chigiri

-> MAN IS SIDE-EYE CENTRAL OVER HERE

-> Will REFUSE to tell you why he’s so upset even after coming home to you after winning a game

-> He will never admit to being jealous over an inanimate object, but he knows on the inside that he may or may not see it go flying out of the room later on

-> When he got home and saw you cuddling with a tiny version of him all while reading one of the many books from your bookshelves and surprisingly in where he would normally sit, he was a little pissed

-> It wasn’t until you decided to go to bed and through finding out by his side eyes that he, in fact, did not think plushie was a good replacement as you phrased it, you decided that instead of cuddling up to him like you normally would you instead cuddled with the plushie which only made him roll his eyes and end up throwing it somewhere else in the room, saying something along the lines of why would you need a stupid not real version of him when he was here right now

Kaiser

-> Definition of LE GASP

-> How could you cuddle with a mini him when perfectly good-sized him was right in front of your face?! Ness would never

-> Would throw it and cuddle into you the second he could get his hands on it, no matter what you were doing. Studying? Not more important the love of your life (as he likes to call himself)

-> Will steal all of them and hide them in places where it’s either out of reach from you or somewhere that you will never find no matter how hard you try (Petty Bitch)

-> Refuses to tell you where they are until you either reject giving him cuddles or kisses

-> Another one who will throw them if he finds you cuddling with them when you could totally be cuddling with him, a disgrace really

-> May or May not get a call from Ness later on shaming you for making Kaiser upset with a plush version of himself

#blue lock x reader #bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock #kaiser x reader #michael kaiser #michael kaiser x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi yoichi #isagi x reader #chigiri hyoma x reader #chigiri x reader #chigiri hyoma #xokohaneazusawa’s writings!

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alpaca-clouds · 1 month ago

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Why do people struggle so much with understanding pacing?

Okay, let me talk about my pet peeve when it comes to writing in any medium. Pacing.

People, who know me for long, will know that this has been the thing I have been complaining about since I was like 12. And there is a good reason for it.

See, when I learned to write, there was this guy who I greatly admired as an author. And after bugging him for a while (look folks, the internet was a very different place from what it is now) he did give me some recommendations on books on writing. And a lot of them went deeply into his pet peeve, which - you guessed it - was pacing as well.

And thus, I learned early on about story structure, and pacing, and how to pace out a story in a way grips the audience. This material I read went onto different techniques for different mediums, into how different cultures had a different ways of dealing with this, and so on, and so forth.

Some of my main take aways were, that a lot of very long stories struggled massively with pacing, and that a ton of people also very miscalculated their ability to handle characters in terms of pacing - because characters and pacing are two things that are very, very heavily connected.

I also learned something else, though: That a lot of western writing advice did not understand anything about pacing outside of the idea that stories were supposed to have three acts - or maybe five - and ideally from a certain fateful day in the early 2000s on, would follow the "save the cat" formular. (Mind you, I do not hate "Save the Cat", however, this formular has been created for movies. It works at times somewhat well for books, too. But it definitely does not for for pretty much anything serialized, because that is not what it was developed for.)

And I also learned another thing: Most people do not understand pacing either, because pacing is not a thing that is ever taught in normal school (like most things that are about creative writing are not). So, while some people might have a gut feeling that the pacing of something might be off, they rarely can actually say why. And this is only worsened by the fact that today's tiktok addicted society is so used to consuming ultra condensed media, that they will perceive anything less condenses than 1 minute tiktok videos as "too slow and boring".

So, please allow me - the guy who kinda hyperfixated on this specific writing skill - to talk about pacing. And this will be in the following points:

What is pacing actually?

How do characters relate to pacing?

Pacing, Streaming and the supposed "filler episode".

Pacing and Fantasy

Pacing in Action vs anything else

Pacing in books vs visual media

What Is Pacing actually?

Okay, I think one of the main issues when it comes to understanding pacing is, that a lot of people see pacing on a on a spectrum that goes from "I am bored" to "I can't follow the plot anymore". But that actually does not always have to do with the pacing - obviously.

Technically pacing is the speed in which the plot moves. Or, to make it more quantifiable: "How many plot points (beats) are covered per either time (in any timed medium) or per page (in anything you read)". Which makes sense at the first glance - but does actually often not line up with the subjective perception of this. Becau se here is the thing: No, fight scenes are not automatically fast paces. A lot of modern action movies have super slow paced - in terms of story pacing - action scenes. Because yes, during those action sequences a lot of STUFF happens, but nothing of it actually is in any way related to the plot.

Look, I freaking adore the Fast & Furious movies. But you could literally edit those movies down to like 45 minutes each and not lose a single plot beat. But of course, nobody would watch those movies - because yes, me and everyone else who adored those movies, is there to watch them lunch cars into space and see stuff blow up. I don't much care about the characters or the plot.

This is by the way also the kinda point that me and other people talk about, when we are unimpressed by "oh, but sex scenes don't add anything to the plot", while the same people would often not make the same argument about action scenes - even though there is a ton of movies and shows where the action scenes really do not add anything to the plot. A lot of people just do not perceive action sequences as slow pacing, because even if nothing that happens on the screen actually adds anything to the plot or moves it forward, it is undeniable, that STUFF is happening. So basically monkey brain will go: "Hehe, things go boom!"

Don't get me wrong: there absolutely are stories in which the action is moving the plot. Mad Max Fury Road is a great example. The movie is also about 60% action - but the action scenes actually add to the plot.

Meanwhile nothing tells you as much about how unimportant some of the MCU action scenes are, than the fact, that they are often done by a completely different team and will be done apart from the rest of the movie.

But yes, traditionally the idea was, that towards the "finale" of a piece of media, a lot more plot beats would happen over a shorter amount of time. You will see that also in a lot of beat sheets. There are more beats that need to happen in the third act of a story - if we go by three act structure. And often there is actually even more plot developments, as usually in a finale all the "plotlines" will kinda finish up in the end. So even plotlines where not a lot has happened to this point - this shows especially in serialized works both in TV shows and stuff like manga or comics - the important plot points will then often happen close to the finale, because it feels more "right".

In older serialized media - especially TV shows prior to streaming - you also had the same thing hold true towards the finale of a "story arc". In a lot of older shows, you would usually see a structure that looked like this.

The "rise" here technically has less to do with more stuff happening in later arcs or seasons - and more with the threat-level rising, and the convulutedness of a story. lol

But yeah, the take-away from this part should be: No, action does not equal fast pacing. There can be action-heavy shows with super slow narrative pacing - but it will to many not feel this way, because at least action is interesting to watch. Which also might be an explanation to why people are a lot worse in seeing the issue with action-scenes that are not adding anything in visual media, but might actually notice it in written stories. Because in books action scenes do not feel "fast paced" in the same way they feel in movies, where the often faster editing and the amount of motion on screen will create this effect.

Oh, and on the other side: Of course there can be slow paced plots that will leave you having problems following. At times, because they are badly written (aka: the media does not give you all the information you need) - and at times, because a piece of media might expect you to know a certain bit of information that you do not know. I can definitely think of a variety of scifi media, that just expects you to know stuff about computer stuff or space, and will not explain it to you. Which might make you need longer time to take plot developments in, and then leaves you reeling.

Another thing however that is also important is: If the pacing stays actually the same throughout a piece of media - rather than accelarating towards the finale (or finales if there are multiple) - it actually will feel wrong in some way. Often people (even I, who hyperfixates on this specific thing) struggle to point at it at first. But yes, this very much is an issue that also can happen. You want the pacing to accelerate towards certain points in the plot - and then slow down. If you had an important point, you want a few slower scenes/episodes/chapters afterwards, to allow the audience to somewhat absorb all the new things you presented them with.

How do characters relate to pacing?

Alright, now we come to the dicey part - specifically, because a lot of people (which includes narratologists, creative writing professors, and people professionally writing) actually kinda do not fully agree on this. So, fair warning: This is how I think.

A character arc in many cases absolutely is a part of the plot. Most media we consume these days are character driven, so the characters are absolutely centrally connected to the plot and the plot mainly exists to have the character move from point A to point B. Or, to make it more basic: To have a character realize that their WANT is not their NEED.

Sure, those characters will usually also accomplish something plot-related. But them accomplishing them is more often than not heavily connected to them fulfilling their character arc. (Please note: characters having a want but having to realize a need is something that is core of western storytelling. However, given that it makes for interesting character arcs, a lot of Asian media these days also will use this as a central driver for character development.)

In some pieces of media, the character arcs are way more heavily tied into the beats of the main plot, than in other. In adventure, action, and related a lot of fantasy and scifi, there is most of the time a character arc happening parallel to the main plot beats. Meanwhile often enough in more down to earth drama and romance, plot beats and character development beats are heavily interwoven. This is not a hard and fast rule - there absolutely is fantasy where the character arc is the plot arc, just as there is romance where the development does not play as heavily into the main plot - but you can generally observe it.

However, no matter how strongly the character development beats line up with plot beats, you cannot deny one thing: character beats are beats that also add to the pacing - even if they technically do not move the main plot forward. So, for example, if you have an episode in a show or a chapter in a book, where important beats happens in terms of a characters development (for example: they realize something important about themselves), this does not necessarily slow the pacing down - even if no actual plot beats happen.

What the fuck is a plot beat? What is a character beat?

This part of the essay was originally not included, but the people reading over it said I should include this.

If we say, that Pacing is basically the description of "Plot Beats per Time" or rather "Plot Beats and/or Character Beats per Time", then we also need to say, what exactly a Plot Beat is. I will fully admit, that this is one of those things in which I forget that this is not a thing taught in school.

I mentioned "Save the Cat" before. "Save the Cat" is a book about writing movies and specifically about pacing out a movie in a way that it is captivating. It mainly focuses on action, but you can absolutely use it for most other genres. And this comes with a so called "beat sheet", a collection of the main story beats that happen, showing when they are going to happen. It looks like this:

Basically a Beat is a scene, in which the plot (or a character arc) is moved forward by a bit. Basically anything that reveals something to the main characters, anything where the basic assumptions about the plot change, anything like that.

Examples for Plot Beats would be:

Character learns about something going on

Characters find out something important about the plot

Someone (either protagonist or antagonist) gets killed or injured

Characters get a new power or item that is important to the plot

Romance goes forward or a reason for the romance to happen is found

Characters find a hint for something they want to reach

And examples of Character Beats would be:

Character learns something about themselves

Character makes a decision for themselves

Characters realizes feelings about something or someone

Character overcomes trauma

And mind you, because I cannot fit this anywhere else: If you read these you might realize, why Musicals are basically a cheat for very fast pacing. Because you can put an entire character arc into a 4 minute song. This is why musical animated shows like Steven Universe or My Little Pony managed to pull some insanely paced episodes, like the Empire City episodes for SU, and the episode in which the Cutie Mark Crusaders finally got their Cutie Marks. Musicals are insane when it comes to this.

And something that you have to realize: While for movies and books certain Beat Sheets (Save the Cat is not the only one) work rather well, those Beat Sheets usually do not work well for Shows. And currently we are living in a time, where this becomes very noticable - because a lot of modern shows are written and aired as basically 4-8 hour movies, using often just the "Save the Cat" beat sheet (if you have read Save the Cat, you will see it EVERYWHERE, because it is so frequently used in western media), but... obviously, Save the Cat is made for something that has 2 hours, and as such a lot of modern media feels strangely slow and stretched out.

Pacing, Streaming, and the supposed "filler episode"

(Yes, this needed to be the gif for this. Because no filler episode has lodged itself quite as strong into my brain as this one.)

So, let me talk about the issue in modern media. Because oh boy.

As I said: I hyperfixated on this specific writing skill forever - and as such I was annoyed by "filler episodes" in TV shows. To explain for the youngest people (not that I am assuming a lot of those are on this hellsite lol): "Filler" was the name given to material that did not move the plot forward at all. So a "filler episode" was an episode, that was just there to fill the episode slot for the week, while no plot was happening. I am not fully sure whether the term originated with anime - but at least back in the early 2000s, before Shonen-Anime were done as 12-26 seasons that then allowed the manga to get ahead in between, "filler" was also the name used for those story arcs that the anime people made up for shows like Naruto, One Piece or Dragonball, that were not in the manga - and hence obviously also never added to any overarching narrative.

And what can I say: We did not appreciate the filler episode enough. Because this related very much to the last part: While filler episodes did indeed not add to the plot and usually by definition did not the character development, they actually still added something often enough.

They allowed the audience to get to know the characters a bit better and get a better feeling for the character relationships - and those episodes take out a bit of speed, which is actually important.

As said before: The pacing should not be even throughout an entire piece of media. In a TV series after an episode that was especially tense and pushed the plot or characters forward a lot, there should be ideally at least one or two episodes that move forward slower or even not at all. This allows the viewer to sit with the new developments for a bit - and of course the characters to have a moment to breathe and process whatever happened to them.

There is also the fact that those episodes usually give the audience a better understanding for the characters - and if you have an audience who at this point ideally care about some the characters, this will even be more successful.

And as I said. Back in ye olden days, a lot of people - me included - complained so much about Filler. But we were wrong. Fillers are amazing, as long as they do not overtake the whole show.

Pacing and Fantasy

Okay, let's talk about a thing, that is somewhat funny. A lot of fantasy - specifically written fantasy media - often has a pacing problem. And this problem comes from the Worldbuilding. Others forms of fantasy media (other than games - though pacing in games is whole different matter) have this too at times, but it tends to be worst in books.

Basically, when you are a fantasy worldbuilder, you have this whole world. And this leaves you with two problems.

a) You are afraid that people will not be able to follow the plot if you not give them a lot of information about this world and how it differs from ours.

b) Well, you build this entire world. And the people should KNOW.

So, a lot of fantasy media basically regularly will stop to explain to the reader or audience, whatever is happening right now. Some writers manage somewhat naturally put this in. Maybe they have a character that does not know a lot about for example magic or dragons, and they can ask questions and act as an audience stand-in. But even in cases, where the worldbuilding is somewhat brought in naturally (which by far is not all of them - because people usually do not naturally talk about stuff they both know, or think a lot about something they find naturally) those "explanation" pieces will make the plot come to a screeching halt.

So, the more worldbuilding you explain, the slower your pacing is.

And of course, pacing is not a reliable thing to keep people reading, and pacing will not always turn people off. But you know how people complain about how slow Lord of the Rings is? This is because of course, every time that Tolkien describes a piece of landscape over multiple pages, there is no plot happening on those pages. And while I personally think some of those descriptions are darn stunning, it is one of those things many people will not like.

However, this makes it a bit complicated. Because yes, worldbuilding explanations will slow down the pacing to a degree that can be problematic. But if you explain too little worldbuilding, people might struggle to follow the story. Which again is the most common problem if the pacing is "too fast" as well. Basically, people do not properly follow the plot and will struggle to understand what is happening and why.

But the opposite is true as well. I have read way too many fantasy books, where after the first 100 pages, I know a lot about the city the plot is set in, or about the magic system, but sadly have so far not been privy to any information what the plot is about, what the characters try to archive, or even who actually the characters are. And that, yeah... Is probably the most common reason why I put aside a variety of fantasy books in the past.

Pacing in Action-media vs anything else

Okay, let me talk about one other thing. See, the word "pacing" is at times used in some other context: In visual media, pacing will be used for the editing of what we see. Basically the amount of cuts that happen within a scene. Or, in a comic, the distribution of panels is also seen as a pacing element.

And anyone who heard people complain about how at times confusing the editing in action movies is, you know that this at times can get too much.

Still, in visual media action scenes feel usually fast - because the characters are moving around rather fast. In a visual piece of media, action scenes are often thrilling, because the characters are in constant danger of dying, and because a lot of stuff is happening. This often works better in visual media, than in written pieces. While it absolutely is possible to write thrilling action scenes, a lot of writers struggle with this, because they tend to overdescribe and that takes the speed out of the prose. But generally speaking, a couple of punches thrown - something that in a movie takes about 10 seconds - will in book easily end up in 200-500 words, which you will not read quite as fast. A bit more about that later.

And then there is the issue with the action scenes, that even is true for visual medial, is that they often really do not have any important plotbeats. Sure, if the characters have their final battle, that is a plot point. But in a lot of action media - especially TV shows - there are a lot of scenes included that really do not add anything, but just are there because folks love watching action scenes.

This goes so far, that people will think a show or movie with a lot of action scene will just be seen as "good fast pacing", even though if the actual pacing in terms of plot beats being spaced out is rather bad. As a good example I will once more nod at the Fast & Furious and the Mission Impossible movies, that often have horrid pacing and very confusing plots - but they do not feel really like it, because the movies are like 60% action scenes, and hence they do not feel like it when you watch them.

It can work at times. I spoke about my love of the F&F movies. Can I tell you a lot of the characters? Nope, but the action scenes are fun to watch!

But this also tends to mean, that in a badly paced movie or show, that is badly paced because the action scenes not adding any plot beats, everything tends to fall apart when the action scenes do not work. And often enough action scenes will still be prioritized over everything else in many of those pieces of media, making things fall apart easily.

Pacing in books vs visual media

I have hinted at this now multiple times: Written media is generally a bit harder to pace than visual media, because of the things you can and cannot control. While a writer in a book has full control over the scenario, a director of a show or movie had actually influence the timeflow of the things happening on screen. As a writer meanwhile you absolutely have no influence on the speed in which your reader will read.

Sure, you can somewhat influence it. Shorter sentences are easier read. An general lower reading level will allow people to read quicker. So simpler words, shorter words, shorter sentences will make parts appear quicker. You can use this for example in action scenes to have a bit more of this breathless feeling that an action scene on screen might have. Use short sentences. Do not link sentences up. Quick hits. Quick impressions. It can work - but it needs some training. Not to say it is fucking hard.

Generally speaking to my experience when you write a single novel, the "Save the Cat" Beat Sheet actually works rather well, if you are the kind of writer who is fairly good at planning things out. If I actually try, I will usually manage to plan out a story and predict fairly well how many words a chapter will have. So yes, for books I can very much use "Save the Cat" and it will work.

However, some things simply work a lot better when you have visual parts going on - but there are other things you can do better when you do not have the visual stuff. For example: A writer can do much more when it comes to motivation and introspection of characters. Yes, this slows down the pacing - but it is something that writing has basically over any form of media that is not a musical. (In a Musical you can characters do introspection through songs. Musicals are the ultimate way of cheating. I love them!)

Something I feel so many writers struggle with in terms of books is actually putting in a clear goal for the character from the beginning. Again: I have put too many books aside where I reached page 100 and did not yet have any goal for the main character.

That goal you give them does not necessarily need to be their final goal. Again: A lot of western storytelling deals with the incongruent nature of a characters "needs" (aka something that would actually help them) with the character's "wants" (aka what they think they would need). But at the very least the plot needs something that it can head towards from the very beginning - a hook to capture the reader.

There might be readers that are absolutely fine with just reading an exercise in worldbuilding - but you cannot expect them to be.

#writing advice #writing #media criticism #fandom meta #media analysis #writing community #writing tips #writing resources #pacing #storytelling #narrative #story structure #streaming #long post

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justastraymoa · 2 months ago

Text

Unwilling Alpha

Chapter 16

WC 3,254 (not including text message pictures)

Masterlist

Warnings ⚠️ swears, abo dynamics, mentions of slave trade, mentions of rape, mentions of abuse, mentions of death, fear, manipulation. Dom/sub vibes in this one briefly.

Nothing within reflects anyone or anything irl. Pics off pinterest.

🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟

I came prepared for the overstimulating chaos of hair and makeup. I had my earbuds in and playing my favorite K-pop playlist before the stylist even began. Channie and Lixie sat on either side of me, with earbuds of their own in.

“Go really light on her hair and makeup, please.” Chan asked as my stylists began. I looked at him, shocked. They had been teaching me makeup techniques since my reveal, so I was more used to how I looked in it, but I still went pretty light and avoided changing the shapes of my face too much. “We are more comfortable keeping a natural look on her.”

The stylist scrutinized me for a few seconds. Assessing. “We can do that. We were told casual, so it works well.”

I smiled at Channie in thanks, and he winked back at me. “I gotcha, babe.” He teasingly flirted. It still made me blush and fight not to hide my face.

“Fucking flirt.” I mumbled making Channie chuckle.

The results were better than I had dared to hope. I was actually done before Channie and Lixie and in wardrobe.

This interview and photoshoot were part of a ‘Pride of Australia’ series they had been working on. As such literally everything was Australian made or company based. All clothing was either created by Australian designers or made in Australian companies. All provided food and drink was from Australia, right down to Australian raised cows for the coffee creamer. The employees, cameramen, photographer, and stylists were all Australian.

In fact, I was the only thing or person not Australian, and I felt it. I felt like a foreigner. Which is off to say since I am a foreigner – it’s just the first time I felt it so predominantly.

Channie, Lixie and an official looking and harried worker joined the wardrobe stylist and myself as I was putting on the shoes they provided. I smiled at them, reaching to brush their hands as they passed.

“Markus and Tad are going to do a short interview with y/n first before bringing Chris and Felix in.” The employee started, looking only at the clipboard in their hands. “We are going to go ahead and get y/n set up with a mic and start the interview while Chris and Felix finish getting ready.”

I met Lixies eye and raised an eyebrow. Why was this woman speaking at us like we weren’t all right the fuck here? She wouldn’t even look at us!

Lixie shrugged. “Just go with it.”

Since Channies pants had pockets and mine didn’t I gave him my phone and wallet to hold before following clipboard woman out of the room. It didn’t escape my notice that I was now separated from all my Omegas, and I very much did not like it.

Unlike Channies and Lixies security, who stayed outside, Duri stayed nearby. I figured it was in response to the threats and recent attack, but I didn’t mind. It was comforting to see a familiar face in the hustle of strangers.

The show was filmed in front of a live audience, which took up one side of the room while the stage was on the other. Cameras, boom mikes, chairs, equipment, and workers were in between the two, blocking most of the view of the audience, which kind of confused me.

The stage was set up to look like a city skyline with a frame around where the two hosts currently stood. The skyline was familiar and famous sights around Australia that I recognized, even if I didn’t know the name of most of them.

Markus and Tad both wore tacky bright patterned outfits. I had a feeling they were the outlandish, obnoxious type of hosts that would surely be high energy and way too loud. It had the potential to be a really fun interview.

I smiled wide and joined them when they introduced me, standing in between them when they gestured.

The live audience cheered and both hosts pulled me in for a hug as they welcomed me with wide, toothy smiles and a lot of invading my personal space.

And I was right. They were very loud and very obnoxious, but their energy was infectious. It was just the right amount of too much without going overboard.

“So, the whole world wants to know.” Tad started swinging an arm around to encompass the whole world. “What is it like being Stray Kids Alpha?”

Easy question. “It’s truly wonderful. They are the best and – “ I stopped as Markus waved me off.

“Nah, nah, nah, nah!” He kept waving and shaking his hands. “We don’t want to hear how great it is! Boring! Tell us the juicy bits!” He ordered.

Thrown off, I struggled to find my train of thought again. Juicy bits? They wanted secrets? “What you see is who they are. Stray Kids have always just been themselves.” I shrugged.

Both men groaned dramatically. “You’re killing me, Alpha! We brought you on specifically to spill the tea!”

“Sorry, the only tea is Seungmin’s teatime.” The hosts and audience laughed at my reference, boosting my ego and confidence a bit.

“Okay, okay. But you all live together, right?”

“Yes. I have my own room that I just decorated before we left for the mini tour.” I knew they were hinting at spicier things. We didn’t need those rumors. “Even here, I have my own hotel room. The kids are very respectful of my personal space.” Mostly true. If I had been uncomfortable with it, they would never have slept in my room. The fact that last night was the first night we slept apart was something no one needed to know but us.

I chuckled awkwardly as Tad groaned again dramatically. I couldn’t give them what I didn’t have. “Tell us about the bonding? It happened rather suddenly, yeah?”

“Very, yeah. We were on a time crunch because of me, so there really was no time for the celebration and fanfare that Stray Kids deserve. I hope to one day make up for it.”

“And im sure you will. I tell you, what we have seen from you so far is truly impressive.”

“That attack at the airport is all anyone can talk about! Scary stuff!” Markus exclaimed.

I nodded in agreement. “I am very lucky I had both security and my Omegas with me.”

“So JYP is taking your safety seriously then?

“Oh yes! I have my own bodyguards and everything. I am definitely safe.”

“That’s good. JYPE has a pretty decent reputation for protecting their idols, at least. It's not as bad as some companies.”

Channie and Lixie were brought out soon after that and the questions went back to lighter topics. Tad and Markus spent a good amount of time trying to get the skinny on me from the boys – who all too happily complied without giving away anything too personal. Just enough to satisfy the hosts. They really were very good at all this stuff. I needed to practice and get better.

After the interview was over and there was the bustle of everyone wrapping up, Tad approached me. His whole being was significantly less now that the show was over.

“Miss l/n. I just wanted to come see if you were really okay after recent events.” He explained.

This question felt more genuine. Like he was actually worried about me and not ratings. “Um – ya know. On edge, but okay.” I answered honestly.

He nodded understandingly. “I have an Alpha of my own, so I understand some of what you are facing.” He began getting a soft look as he thought of his Alpha. “Just being apart was hard for several months and I’m just one Omega. You have eight! It’s truly amazing and inspiring – what you are doing. How well you are doing it.”

My emotions swelled. It was a different feeling to be praised by someone outside of the situation like this. More convincing somehow.

“Thank you. That means a lot. It’s nice to hear.”

With an understanding smile he handed me a post – it note with two phone numbers. “If you ever need anything at all. Even just a question or to vent – we are here for you. Jeff, my Alpha, has been trying to get more in touch with other Alphas in the spotlight like you two. To have a support system for everyone.”

I accepted the paper in awe. The support from an absolute stranger touched something deep. “Would he – would Jeff be upset if I hugged you?” I was mindful of leaving my scent on a bonded Omega that’s not mine, but I also have the need to hug this stranger. This Omega and his Alpha wanted to help me, another stranger, feel more comfortable and not alone in this insane world we live in.

In answer Tad just pulled me in. “He will understand.” He spoke lowly as I wrapped my arms around his ribs and closed my eyes. He patted my back gently and held on until I was ready to let go. A longer hug than what was considered normal, but he could tell I needed it and was willing to oblige.

The ride to the photoshoot was oddly quiet. Neither Omega spoke and I was still in my feels over the conversation with Tad. It was actually a good idea. I was in a position to change things for the better. Help other Alphas. I could begin just by getting in touch with the other Alphas withing JYPE and the other companies. Start a support group of my own. To share experiences and advice and even warnings. So, none of us were so alone.

I was in my thoughts all through the second round of hair, makeup, and wardrobe of the day. Too in my head to even be overstimulated or nervous. I was busy making plans for my support group.

I did, however, have to forcibly pull myself into the moment once we got on the photo set. Simple white background and Australian brand/made clothing, just like the interview. There were three pedestal like stools for us to pose on. I was directed to the one in the middle.

“Don’t overthink it or it will come off as stiff and unnatural. Just let it come naturally.” Channie advised without looking at me.

I got my first sense that something was wrong. Neither Omega would meet my eye and had barely spoken a word to me. “Everything okay?” I asked.

“Yeah, fine.” His words were short, clipped. Most definitely not fine.

I looked over at Lixie in question, but all he did was purse his lips and look away from me, not meeting my gaze or offering an explanation for either of their odd behavior.

I shrugged. Maybe they were tired. Or focused on the photoshoot. I crossed my legs at the knee and settled in my stool, which was slightly shorter than the other two. I felt both Omegas close behind me, but they did not touch me. They were purposely avoiding touching me.

The photoshoot started and I relaxed my face into something I hoped looked good. Someone turned on some house music, which made me chuckle. I thought the music was only done in movies. The photographer started snapping, yelling for one or more of us to move or make a different look – mostly me, honestly. But he was being super patient with me, so I didn’t even feel singled out. He is truly a good photographer. Able to make his subjects comfortable.

But about ten minutes in he suddenly put his camera down and stood up. “What’s going on? This is starting to look like an awkward family photo session.” He inquired gesturing to the three of us. “Are you fighting?”

Neither Omega answered right away – which was an answer. I shrugged. “Not as far as I’m concerned. They haven’t said anything.”

“Well, whatever it is, let’s nip it in the bud. This is supposed to be an uplifting piece about two national treasures finding their Alpha!” He lifted his camera again.

When after a few more shots, neither boy was giving any more than before and the atmosphere was more awkward than ever, I had had enough. I snapped to my feet with a huff and turned to them. In their shock of my sudden movement, they forgot they were avoiding looking at me. I glared both down, hands on my hips.

“That is enough! I don’t know what has your panties in a twist, but you’re professionals! Act like it!” I snapped at them. I felt my brain get heavy as a sunk into a more controlling Alpha persona. Letting more instincts than usual take over to exert a dominance over my Omegas that I usually avoided.

The effect was instantaneous. Their pupils blew and their posture stiffened while simultaneously becoming more submissive. And I hated it. This wasn’t the Alpha I wanted to be. It was the Alpha that was needed right now. To knock some sense into them. There was time for guilt later.

“Honestly! You’re acting like petty toddlers!” I continued to chastise them as I went to stand behind them for a pose. I reached around their heads to grip their chins and make them look up at me. “If you have a problem, say something. I can’t read your minds and I’m not begging you to tell me.” I looked first at one, then the other, speaking slowly and firmly. Pausing for the photographer.

I changed poses, turning their faces front again and resting a forearm on each shoulder. “You are the seasoned professionals here, you’re supposed to be helping me, not the other way around! You promised, Felix, and you broke that promise! First Chris breaks my trust by keeping things from me, now you are breaking your promises and leaving me hanging!”

The Omegas slowly started to get their shit together as I kept yelling at them. Their movements were halting and unnatural, but they were putting in an effort.

They both started to help me position and pose. “Honestly. Being so ridiculous over I don’t even know what! Leave your shit off set!” I was on a roll now, a low constant displeased rumble deep in my chest. I felt bad for making the photographers’ job harder because of their shit. I knew what it was like to have uncooperative subjects. To struggle to pull something usable out of them when they just would not give you anything to work with.

Sitting in Chans lap I felt him hide his face in my hair, lips close to my ear. “Alpha.” He almost whined. Hearing him call me so formally brought me up short. His hands, squeezing my waist rhythmically, shook slightly. “Please – im sorry. We’re sorry! Just - let up a little – please. It’s hard – hard to –“ He broke off with a soft whine, really struggling to get his words out.

It took me a second to figure out what he was asking for. Felix almost looked scared. Eyes big, reflective, and shiny as they begged me. Focusing, I quieted the rumble in my chest and let go of the controlling instincts – feeling my brain lighten up again. I was still annoyed as hell at them, just without the added Alpha control. They both visibly relaxed, no longer struggling to do as I asked while submitting to their Alpha.

“Finally. Thought I was going to have to carry this shoot all by myself.” I huffed.

That’s when I realized that besides the music, the room was still and quiet. Even the camera flashes had stopped. I looked around, confused and finally back in the moment around us.

The photographer looked at me in awe. “I’ve never had an Alpha do that. That was intense.” He explained taking a second to flip through the pictures. “The photos are fucking amazing, though, holy shit! I think we got the shots.”

I pointedly removed Chans hands from my waist and stood, making my way to the photographer to apologize and thank him. “I’m not sure what I did, but they are upset with me. This is all still very new to us, so I apologize. We are learning to navigate all this.” I explained while shaking his hand.

“I’m going to be honest with you, these are my all-time favorite photos I’ve ever taken, so I don’t mind at all.” The photographer gestured to his camera. “I was expecting more of a struggle with you since this is your first shoot and you’re also a photographer. But you handled it like a seasoned pro.”

I chuckled. “Thank you for today. And for being so patient. Next time I see you hopefully I’ll be much better at this.”

I practically ran back to the ready room to grab my things and change. Felix stopped me on the way out. “Love, can w-“

I held up a hand to stop him. Both he and Chan were still in their photo outfits, looking ready for a long conversation that I wasn’t. “No. You two didn’t wanna talk when it was time to talk, and I don’t have time now.” I looked at the time anxiously.

“Where are you going?” Chan asked confused. He probably knew my schedule better than I did and knew I had nothing else for today.

“Whether it bugs any of you to be apart or not, it bugs me. I’ve been away from six of my Omegas for too long and I only have a short time before schedules separate us again.” I gestured for them to hurry since we rode together. “I will leave your asses!” I threatened.

While I waited for them, I opened the group chat.

I cursed traffic and slow drivers. Checking my phone every few seconds in frustration and ignoring the tense atmosphere in the car. The awkwardness settles over us. I was not going to be the one to bring it up. This was all on them now.

“Angel, I’m sorry. We fucked up.” Felix finally said.

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. “That has already been established.”

“I didn’t mean to break my promise. I was being stupid. Jealous.”

“Jealous? Of what?”

Felix looked at Chan for help. “We saw you talking to Tad after the interview.” Chan explained.

“He is bonded to an Alpha who is in the limelight because of him, and they thought since I’m in a similar situation I could use some support.”

“Support how?”

“I have their numbers if I need to talk or vent. Or have a question. Another Alpha who understands our situation and the dangers.” I shrugged. “I didn’t think you would care if I had friends.”

“No, we don’t!” Felix quickly and frantically denied.

“Of course we don’t. It was just…harder than expected. To share you.” Chan tried to explain, searching for the right words.

“That doesn’t explain why you acted that way. Or why you are acting weird now! You still won’t touch me, and you can barely look at me!”

Chan scratched at the back of his neck nervously. “We are still a little…raw, I guess, from earlier. From what you did during the shoot.” He explained. Felix nodded in agreement.

I huffed, feeling the guilt creep in. “Fine. Let me know when you are back to normal. Then we can discuss what really bothered you when I was talking to Tad.” We were getting nowhere like this.

🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟

General Taglist @stellasays45 @beebee18

Unwilling Alpha Taglist: @xxeiraxx @hanniemylovelyquokka @breadedloafs @songleepark @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @hyunjinhoexxx @kayleefriedchicken @vietjeb @hityoulikebahng @juju-227592 @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @royal-shinigami @bangchansfavoritenoona @straykidslvr @bookswillfindyouaway @h0rnyp0t @Svmmerstime @jennibahng @kpopandmusicpassion @jasmin-loves-k-pop @cookey-lock @possum-playground @demigoddreamon-blog @rei-reia @dreamerwasfound @jasmin-loves-k-pop @ms-flowergirl @princess-sunshyn @technicallyimportantsweets @mbioooo0000 @jisungs-iced-americano @bluesoobinnie @threeopossumsinacoat

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plaidos · 3 months ago

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Im a trans man who was on the outside circle of a friend group led by another trans man, there was one trans woman in the friend group, and she was dating the guy who kinda led the friend group. I didnt talk to her much, because i didnt talk to anyone there much due to bad experiences with the people in that group (tried to bring up stuff like experiencing dysphoria before I was out and got screamed at by the lead guy for “appropriating trans culture” and how i couldn’t use terms like gender envy to describe how i wanted to look exactly like a cis man youtuber i watched. He also shamed me for my interests which he deemed morally iredeemable (homestuck) before getting back into it himself, and then it was fine) but yeah i didnt talk to her much, and then suddenly i was dragged back into the friend group to do an intervention for the lead guy for a lot of insane things, and the tgirl was the one who asked me to help. When i was known as the only girl in the group, i was the group therapist and mom basically, i didnt want to be, and when i pulled away/came out as a trans man it seemed they replaced me with the tgirl as the group mom. And we started talking. And oh my god. Anything they did to me wa %1000 worse with her. She had to convince a grown as man that being homeless was not in fact a good fall back plan to not being able to find a roommate and no it wasnt easy. But nothing compares to the way she was treated by the main guy she was dating. The things she told me were so awful, she was basically his bangmaid abuse prisoner, he convinced her to move in with him, and then she had to do everything for him because he was “too depressed” he would sit at his computer all day cheating on her with other trans men while she cleaned his whole fucking house, and cooked, and got physically ill from all of the mold that he had let grow on things like dishes. He only really interacted with her when he needed comfort or sex. And he literally forbade her from doing anything sexual herself including masturbating without his permission because “it made him feel like she was like the pedo that groomed him when he was young” any kinks she had she was told were perverted and degenerate, she age regresses which he compared to pedophilia, it was so awful on literally every level, and he had convinced her she was so worthless and unloveable that when i told her she should leave him she said it was fine and they were working on it. It never got better and when they did break up he spread rumors that she had been raping him. She then dated another trans man who did the exact same thing down to the rape acussations when they broke up. And i was one of the only people who tried to convince her to break up with either of them initially, i was the only person who was the first to speak up. Apparently the other men in the group agreed with me they just didnt say anything till after i did then suddenly they were all agreeing. Shes doing better now and her self esteem is slowly recovering, she still talks to that friend group excluding her exes, i dont talk to any of them except her anymore. Anytime i see a trans man say they cant be misogynistic or transmisogynistic i kind of hate them for it. I was literally screamed at for trying to come out because then the group wouldnt have their “token cis girl” yes that was my title in the group, to dump their issues on. And as soon as i pulled away they replaced me with a woman they treated even worse just because she was trans and easy to beat down. Literally the only two women in the group and we were forced into the mom friend role. Its awful and i hate that people cannot acknowledge it happens. Trans men are not magically exempt from misogyny, and the ones who claim they are are lying to themselves and others so they can benefit from it. That first guy? The one who was so awful to both of us? Hes on tumblr and hes a pretty popular fanartist, he reblogs save trans women shit all the time, i hate him so much and i hate people who are compicit to the abuse trans women face, sorry for writing so much

don’t apologise, thanks for having the courage to share your experiences. it makes my heart sink how familiar this story is, the amount of people who have shared fundamentally identical experiences to this — the belief that trans men do not and cannot utilise male privilege above trans women (even in trans spaces) is without a doubt the reason so many are able to get away with this. i’ve heard this same story dozens of times; trans girl who is being physically & sexually abused by her (trans) boyfriend, regularly being raped, yelled at, often hit & abused in countless other ways who then turns around and says “actually she raped me” when she finally has the courage to break it off. And people believe them, because they believe that trans women are all rapists one bad day away from hurting everybody, but trans men are biological victims who can never do any wrong.

im sorry this happened to you. i hope your friend is in a much better situation now. ❤️

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gamerwoman3d · 1 year ago

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A Land Before Time

🔞 An MK1 x Reader 🔞

▸ includes: Liu Kang [mk1 versions] F! Reader◂

Author's Note: This was based on a sex dream that I had, that I feel @genesiswrld SHOULD have had, because Liu Kang is hot but Bi-Han is my squishy. Not saying the dream was wasted on me, just that it was misplaced 😆

Female anatomy used.

Imagine for a moment that this New Era is real, and the existence that you're currently living is also real, and contains the New Era inside it as a game - but you find a technical way through the use of coding and quantum tech, to enter Liu Kang's New Era, “cool world” style, as something of a god/goddess.

Because you live in our shared reality, the one in which the game was created, you can in fact “code” the New Era into anything you like, within reason. But you have to get past the guardian. Liu Kang and Geras are gods there. But here, they are just characters, with Geras also partially functioning as a type of uncrackable password manager/encryption software. You can give your own self all sorts of powers to take into the New Era; but you can't change the core game unless you can get past Geras and Liu Kang.

You would either need their permission, or you'd have to force/brute force them to comply.

You can literally step from our world into the New Era and live there, immortal, with godlike power. And you do that. You use the code and give yourself the boosts you think you'll need to defend yourself if necessary.

Because you have the capacity to travel to any physical point in the timeline, as well as any temporal point in the timeline, you choose something you think will be easy to start. A time with fewer enemies, a time that you wanted to see in your own world, once.

🔞 Spicy/Explicit after the cut 🔞

When you first stepped through the portal into the New Era, the pristine sands beneath your feet were deliciously toasty. You could not help but to remove your footwear and sink your toes into the sand. The air here is pure, and filled with the strange buzz of unseen insects in the distance. The soft swirl of sand in the hourglass before you quieted. Without the hiss of sand, an absence of familiar noises from your past life became distinct; no motorcars, no hum of electronics, no trace of people, and a distinct lack of birdsong.

If you peer into the reflection of the hourglass over Liu Kang’s shoulder, you can see glimpses of early six-limbed proto-vaternians being gently guided into evolution in a neighboring realm. Liu loses his concentration on the sands as he sees you. Nothing devastating happens in the universe in that instance; there is simply a pause in the work.

Liu Kang knows immediately that you are not supposed to be here, standing before him and the hourglass.

He knows because he has not yet created humans.

Outside of the very meticulously kept garden that surrounds the hourglass, dinosaurs still rule this earth. Even birds have yet to grace the planet.

“How are you here? Or perhaps I should ask, are you truly here? Is it possible that even gods can still have dreams, or hallucinations?”

You tell him you are from a timeline before his own. You are older than his entire universe, older than Kronika, than Geras, older than the hourglass. And while you yourself did not create his universe, you were alive at the time it was conceived[1].

You tell him you shared a planet with, and walked among, the beings that created his universe. His universe is based on what your people knew of their own universe. Your feedback may or may not have influenced these creators; but you have some access to their same power of creation, and have come to use the hourglass to enhance his universe for yourself.

You came prepared to fight if necessary. Liu Kang would be very particular over who has access to the hourglass.

You may even fight a few rounds if you're curious to test your code enhancements - at least until he understands that you do have the power to control parts of his universe already, and the power to defeat him if he made it necessary. Through the encounter, he learns that you aren't lying about being from an even older timeline responsible for creating the hourglass.

But whatever it is that you want to change about the New Era, he likely won't let you without a fresh fight. And another fresh fight, and another, for every single little change you think you could want.

“We don't have to fight. We can compromise.”

For Liu Kang, it has been a lonesome existence, living out the creation of the new era in solitude. Geras can offer Liu Kang company in much the same way as an AI Assistant bot can offer a human company. But you know the depths of loneliness must be unbearable for a creator who is utterly alone in the universe across all of time. You know this, because even in your own world, the mythologies of all creator gods often began with the creation of people.

Even the gods of your own reality were so unbearably lonesome that they, in myth, created all of your ancestors, either for companionship or worship.

Your offer of company is accepted graciously, the moment he understands that you won't be withholding your companionship to exchange for the powers of the hourglass. But to settle conflicts over what happens in the hourglass, you both have an idea.

Gambling, games, and wagers. But instead of betting on who will win a physical fight between you both, you gamble on which of you can bring the other the most pleasure.

You're both seated in the zen garden, where the tropical heat has warmed the sand. Sheets of some soft fabrics are laid out in a manner similar to beach towels, allowing you both to walk and sit without burning your thighs or disturbing much of the sand.

He has a very smug “I know I've already won” look on his face the moment you suggested a contest based on sexual pleasure instead of kombat. You might think billions of years of being pent up would give you an advantage over him, but it doesn't; your customized form in this new era was generated anew when you stepped through the portal into his era. This particular body has yet to experience such pleasure at all, and will react, on a neurochemical level, at its most basic “code,” reacting the same as it would if falling in love for the first time. It will, in a nutshell, intoxicate you with want and pleasure, as if you yourself had never experienced it before.

But you didn't realize this. Your overconfidence proved your ignorance.

“You decide the winner. I trust your judgment will be fair. Or at least I don't trust my own judgment call to be unbiased,” you say.

Liu Kang smiles.

“A designated judge will be unnecessary,” he says, "I am certain we will both agree on who has won the challenge.”

He looks off in the distance before continuing.

“I would appreciate it though if we could choose some less intimate positions, at least at first. I'm still not over the grief of losing my dearest friend, and my beloved. I'm not sure how I might react, looking into the face of another, knowing I shall never have these moments with her. It isn't that I don't realize the finality of her destruction; but giving this kind of pleasure to another is a turning point that I may never be ready for.”

You slide closer to him and caress his shoulder, enough for him to feel your inner warmth.

“Grief is made of the same stuff as love. It's just the love-stuff that's leftover with nowhere to go,” you say.

He lays his head on your shoulder, pulls your hand to his cheek and tilts his face into it. Peace painted across the features of his face as he melted into your touch. His relaxation left you with an indescribable euphoria that deepened with each breath.

“Thank you for saying so. I feel more comfortable now, knowing that you understand,” he says.

“And I'm glad you said something. I like it when you tell me what you want. We can do this however you like. After all, this is a kontest for providing pleasure; not receiving it,” you said.

“Buy you will be receiving it,” he gloated, “and I shall be providing as much as you can possibly stand.”

“Ooh,” you teased, “Promises, promises! Hah, I like it. I feel good about you taking the lead, if you would?”

“Of course,” he said.

As he smiled up at the heavens, he closed his eyes and bit his lip. His eyes squeezed hard enough that the apples of his cheeks warped around the outline of his eyes. He took a deep breath that sounded as if he swallowed an antagonistic laugh.

“You aren't allowed to hate me when I show you how easy this is,” he said.

He turned his body towards yours, guided your body into facing away. You removed just enough clothing to feel his touch, to not hinder him from penetrating you if he chose. The fabric that you left over the top of your glistening pussy was delightfully thin and stretchy enough to move to the side in a pinch.

You spread yourself face down across the sheets of fabric. The warm sand below the soft fabric gave way, cushioned your ribs, and pressed its warmth up into your breasts.

He crawled on top. His weight on you pressed you slightly deeper into the fabric-covered sand. The heat and weight of his muscular legs across the backs of your thighs alone was enough to make you crave completion. But then, his clothed erection pressed against the cleft of your pussy until your slit pinched around the thin fabric. He slotted himself into the fold of fabric and held you there, wedged between the hot sand and his heated, immovable body. You squirmed into him, only to discover that you couldn't move if you wanted to, with your legs pinned to the sand.

You turned your face to the side to look over your shoulder at him. He wore a smug expression as he looked down at you.

You could feel your clit throbbing against… the hot sand? or his shaft. You could not tell. Both were equally firm and toasty.

He was hard. Slotted against the fabric, he nudged his erection firmly against you, the head nestling between your folds to swipe against your clit. His breath deepend, you could feel the air from his nostrils against your neck, just below the ear.

Against your back, you could feel his chest expand and cinch with each breath. You were caught in heat, trapped between his muscles and the sand. You liked this, being at his mercy. He rested his chin on your shoulder and huffed, resting his entire weight on you as he hunched. The cock knocking repeatedly against your throbbing clit had you squirming, whining, whimpering as you held your squeals of pleasure in. He ran one hot palm along your side. He caressed and groped your glute before freeing his cock from its cage of fabric. He hooked a finger around the strip of stretchy fabric above your mound and slipped it to the side.

The bare cockhead slipped between the fabric and your clit. Liu Kang let the fabric snap back into place, catching against the bottom of his shaft. Your pleasure built up as he rolled his hips and frotted against you, fucking the gap between your panties and your clit.

You balled your fists, grabbing handfuls of sand through the fabric sheets. He repositioned slightly so that you could feel the wet swiping of his heated cockhead against your clit more intensely. Your fingers came undone from the fabric and all ten digits splayed out in a fan shape as your quiet whimpers suddenly broke into a muffled outcry of pleasure.

His hands found yours. He covered the tops of your hands with his palms and threaded his fingers between yours, gripping each hand with interlaced fingers. You felt the tips of his fingers curl past the webbing between your digits to press against the insides of your palms. He pressed your hands, and his, to the sand, to pin them where he wanted them - where you could push back into him, but not escape. Not that you'd want to.

Your skin tingled anywhere he touched it, and the skin where the pads of his fingers glanced against the inside of your palm, threaded along the webbing of your fingers, was exceptionally sensitive in a way that made you feel safe, loved, cared for deeply, and connected.

The warm weight of his body on yours made you feel safe, while the cock massaged between your pussy lips. His thrusts massaged them open without penetration until you could feel every fiber of yourself unwinding, melting into the sand.

You looked back at him, only to see that he was still gazing at the side of your face, waiting for you to open your eye. His smug, slight smile never left his visage. He squeezed your hands with a pleasant pressure, as if he were wringing them out. You realized in that moment that you were swollen inside, and quivering at the entrance.

Then he stops moving, intentionally. You feel him, all over you, weighing you down, trapping you in the imprint of fabric in the hot sand. You feel your heavy, puffy cunt lips throbbing against his stationary cockhead. You're sensitive as fuck. Even your heartbeat rocks your clit against his cock too much.

He breathes. He breathes out through his nose, his gentle panting breath trickles underneath your ear, down your neck. His chin follows, as he rests it in the crook of your neck with his jaw at your shoulder. His skin just feels like skin, yet you're electrified by it. You're so sensitive in your new form. He could stay like this all day. You cannot. He knows. You know he knows.

You know because when you look at him, his unchanging, stoic “I told you so” smirk is so purposefully calm, that you could consider it antagonistic. Even just this look he gave you had you dripping wet for him, to say nothing of the thick smooth, hot cockhead nestled against your clit, or the warm shaft that your heavy, fevered wet pussy lips spread themselves over. You give a defeated cry of pleasure and gave in. You tap out against the sand, to tell him he's already won, and he responds by firming up his grip on your hands and moving in for the kill. He devours your neck as he nudges your clit around and fucks you, alternating between the two activities until you cum beneath him.

Your orgasm does not slow him down. He slips his cockhead against the fluttering entrance of your cunt and pauses, as if testing something, as if something changed. The slick hole winks against him and he sinks inside to stay.

“You're so creamy after you've cum,” he purred.

His cock feels amazing, warm and firm and deep, exploring inside you. He pressed it past a spot inside you where the pressure feels so good that you feel you might die unless it, that spot in particular, is beat to hell. He pressed past it, but drew back, stroking slower and deliberate against this inner spot. You felt a sudden dying urge to feel him hammer his cock into this weak spot inside you. The change in your whimpers gave you away.

“This little spot right here is particularly velvety,” he said, “it's just gooey… no. Buttery. Right here.”

He let his cockhead glide against the spot in several slow deliberate strokes for emphasis. You groaned brokenly into the sand and bucked back into him. You had chills. You had goosebumps even on the hot sand. He held and pinned your elbows to your sides. Your nipples stood erect beneath you, the tips ground into the fabric as you bucked backward into him. He paused, held you down, let you rock and buck until the fit of passion washed over you, and you could still yourself. He didn't shush you. He just pulled back until his cockhead hovered a hair away from that sweet spot and he waited for you to collect yourself. You caught your shuddering breath, but couldn't look at him without feeling like you might cum again. You looked, and groaned deep. He acknowledged your desperation.

“I'm going to start fucking that velvety, buttery spot now,” he whispered toward your ear, “I do not know when I'll stop.

Scream if you need to. I've yet to create a single person that could hear you.”

His cock pinpointed that part within you that most yearned for it the instant he buried it in you. He pressed himself against it and wrung you out. You felt it as your own cum for him seeped out, dribbled down onto the fabric and soaked through the fabric into the sand.

Every stroke is devastating. You're loud as fuck and no one else can hear it. The skies open up and it rains on the two of you, mostly upon his back. Judging by his gentle moans, the rain itself seems to give him pleasure as the droplets hiss against his back, only to turn into steam. You could swear that you're causing it, that this rain is your rain. Suddenly you are cumming because it is raining, and it is raining because you have cum. When your palms tremble, he re-interlaces his fingers with yours to squeeze your hands in his, wringing you out, wringing out your anxiety, wringing out your pleasure, and possibly wringing out the very act of rain itself from the sky above. You couldn’t explain it, but somehow you knew.

You became the rain. And the rain became you. The rain became a goddess, and the goddess was you. The wetter he made you, the more the world flooded. He had no intention of going easy, but you found yourself clenching, squeezing, sucking him in, working yourself against his body as he worked you apart with his.

“That's it,” he huffed, “now, you're getting it.”

His breath grew ragged.

He said, “Rain.”

You nodded, not fully understanding.

“Rain on me,” he said.

Your eyes widened. He knew. You knew he knew. Rain pummeled your bodies in a deluge as you felt, not just the tension of your body snap, but the tension of your sudden ascent to godhood burst into creation, almost as a miniature version of the big bang. Untold energies from deep within your soul burst forth and spread out in all directions, spreading your power throughout all the realms, both giving you power over all the rains in the entire universe, and giving the entire universe the gift of your rains.

But you couldn't focus on the sensation of becoming a god, as Liu Kang fucked another blinding orgasm from you. This time, his composure cracked, and he came screaming with you in tandem, hot against you, his inner flame temporarily quenched by the deluge of your pleasure. The two of you thrashed against each other with abandon, riding out your pleasure together, before collapsing boneless into the soaked fabric atop the muddying sands.

The rains subsided gradually as the two of you caught your breath. You moved to roll over, and Liu rolled off of you onto his rain-soaked back. He closed his eyes and let the pitter-patter of the rain wash over his body, cooling him, turning to steam in the air around you both. You rolled onto your back beside him, then onto your side to drape yourself around him.

“Wow,” you said between heavy breaths.

“...Yeah,” he replied, still panting.

When you caught enough of your breath to speak full sentences, you could only think to ask one question.

“Did you just make me a fucking rain goddess?” You asked.

He nodded and laughed.

“You didn't think I'd let the first hot sex in my new era be mediocre,” he said.

“Holy fuck though,” you said.

‘Literally?” he teased.

“Okay yeah literally, but I'm starting to think I won that one,” you said.

He just closed his eyes and smiled.

“Okay wise guy, who won?”

He bit his lip and jerked his thumbs towards his chest, gesturing to himself.

“Ugh. You're impossible. Round two!” You demanded.

“You're losing this one too,” he said.

He rolled on top of you and peppered you with kisses. He promised you a second round, and a third - if you survived the second.

But first he needed to check progress in the hourglass. You peered into it with him and saw proto-vaternians in their pre-paleolithic era. A group of them surrounded a cairn, upon which sat a strange skull decorated with stones and feathers. You asked Liu Kang what it was; he told you it was a representation of you. You were the very first art, the very first goddess. You were the first to collect worship and be created in such a manner. You arrived in the new era just in time. The ancestors of the Vaternians had just created and worshiped their first god, which happened now to be you.

Had it not been for your intervention, Liu Kang would have been forced to grant this worship to the one you knew as Rain.

[To be continued.]

[Need more MK1 smut? Check the pin 📌]

[Need more Liu Kang smut? Check the Choose Your Own Adventure, below!]

#mortal kombat #liu kang mk1 #liu kang imagine #liu kang x reader #liu kang fanfic #mk1 #mortal kombat 1 #liu kang x you #liu kang x y/n #no beta we die like outworld empresses

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kinardsevan · 6 months ago

Text

as we all know, i haven't really been doing @bucktommypositivityweek because I've been busy working on other stuff. but I still wanted to contribute, and I was feeling inspired reading people's additions for 'outsider perspective'. this was also a character study for one of my OCs.

so have this: -

colors

Wilder Gray was born to be an artist. Color was quite literally in his name. He was also gay fresh out of the womb, and god bless the fact that his parents had accepted that from day one, because otherwise he never would’ve stood a chance.

Life had been easy for him, mostly. He came from enough money that his parents sent him to semi-private school for he better part of his upbringing. When they’d discovered his ability to draw and paint towards the end of elementary school, he’d been promptly enrolled in the Los Angeles Academy of Arts and Enterprise for intermediate school. Growing up in that kind of environment had fed his need to create as well as be surrounded by other creatives. It also fostered a very accepting community where he never felt out of place or like he couldn’t be exactly who he was. By the time he was in his twenties, enrolled in UCLA, he’d had several serious relationships.

He met one Thomas Kinard at the age of twenty-five, fresh out of his graduate program with an MFA in interdisciplinary arts. Tommy was just about to turn thirty-three and had looked extremely uncomfortable in his skin as he sat down at a gay bar in WeHo. It would be weeks before Tommy would admit to him that he was freshly out of the closet, and that up until a few months before, the most he’d ever engaged with the community was through one night stands and the boy he had shared a secret relationship with during his five and a half years in the military.

To be clear, Tommy had rocked Wilder’s universe on its axis. When they first met, Wilder wanted nothing to do with a relationship with him. he knew Tommy was still figuring out his footing with his sexuality now that he was out, and as much as Wilder was willing to be a friend through that process, he didn’t want to play the part of the boyfriend who helped Tommy experiment and get educated.

Which isn’t to say it panned out the greatest for him. He watched Tommy engage in multiple relationships over the next three years, and he was jealous as fuck every single time. He hated Mike, the forty-five-year-old man that Tommy met a few weeks after Wilder had met him. That relationship lasted four months. Mike was a domineering dick who did a damn good job at pretending to be sunshine. Wilder wondered if Tommy realized he didn’t have to date twice-divorced men in order to figure out what he liked, but it also wasn’t his place to speak. At least, until he and Tommy met up on a random Tuesday, three and a half months into the relationship, and Tommy tried to lie to him about bruises on his wrists. Wilder was a lot of things, but stupid was not one of them. He’d told Tommy that night that he was capable of doing so much better, that he deserved better. When Tommy had questioned him—over half a dozen beers—Wilder had kissed him about it.

Granted, that didn’t lead anywhere, other than far enough for Tommy to be confident enough to end the relationship with Mike. They were both single for a few months after that, but whatever Tommy was waiting on, Wilder wasn’t sure. He was still firm on his position about not wanting to be the person to help Tommy gain experience.

After Mike came Leo. Leo came with a million and a half red flags. Leo came with love bombs and grand gestures, with one thing on his mind. As soon as he got Tommy into bed, he was gone. Tommy never really talked about how everything with Leo panned out, but Wilder suspected that it wouldn’t have gone much further anyway. Another night over too many beers, all Tommy would say about Leo was that he was ‘rough. Way too rough.’

Either way, he bounced back. Ezra came along only a few weeks after Leo, and Ezra was so, so sweet. And so naïve. He was younger than Wilder, and clearly still trying to figure things out about himself. However, Ezra also seemed to have stars in his eyes about how things were going to work out, while Tommy had lost most of his rosy view on his sexuality. It wasn’t to say that they didn’t have fun together. But Wilder could tell that Ezra thought Tommy would settle down with him, while Tommy just wanted to work out the kinks he’d gone through in recent months and figure himself out more.

Ezra lasted two months.

Charlie showed up in the middle of October, almost as though he’d been swept through along with the Santa Ana winds. He put a smile on Tommy’s face that Wilder was positive he’d never seen on his friend. Charlie was the boy from Iraq. He was also Tommy’s first real love. Wilder liked Charlie.

Wilder didn’t love Charlie.

It wasn’t that Charlie was a bad guy. Charlie clearly cared about Tommy a fair amount, although it was questionable whether he actually liked Tommy as much as Tommy loved him. The deeper problem was that Tommy looked at Charlie the way Ezra had looked at Tommy. Except, Charlie had done the ‘make my parents happy’ way. He had been married, was now divorced, and still half-living in the closet. Wilder had warned Tommy against doing that with him, warned him that it would only lead to him getting hurt, but Tommy swore to him that Charlie had promised. Promised one day soon they would be out together. Promised they’d get to tell people the truth. Promised the kids would know him as more than just Charlie’s army buddy.

Those promises went on for a year before Tommy smashed what was left of his rose-colored glasses. Wilder was there with the alcohol and the metaphorical stitches to piece Tommy back together.

The thing was, by that time, he’d promised himself that he and Tommy were better as friends. That they’d built something strong enough to withstand the passing glances and the hugs that lasted a minute too long, the pauses when they pullled away where he could feel Tommy’s breath on his lips and it stirred something inside him that he hadn’t felt since he was sixteen and dating Danny Coston, sneaking kisses behind the fieldhouse while they were skipping out on PE.

He’d loved Tommy too much by then. As his friend.

As more than his friend.

And then one night, over beers and a pizza, Tommy was telling him this story about a rescue that Wilder still thinks was absolutely fucking stupid, rocking a helicopter between cliffsides to rescue a group of teenagers who thought rock climbing without gear in Griffith Park sounded like a fun idea. By some miracle, everyone had been saved, Tommy hadn’t crashed the helicopter, and it had made the news. What’s more, Wilder had been the first person Tommy had wanted to tell him about his suicidal save.

Wilder had to kiss him about it, of course. That shattered whatever falsehoods Wilder was letting himself live in at that point in relation to their relationship. Tommy wasn’t experimenting anymore, and he didn’t need an education. He was out, he wasn’t interested in keeping secrets, and he wanted something real.

. . .

The first year was amazing. Granted, WIlder never fell in love with the danger of Tommy’s job, but that was fine. He was in love with everything else about Tommy. He loved his personality, his face, his body, his hopes, his dreams, his willingness to be Wilder’s model on any occasion…he just loved Tommy.

Year two wasn’t as easy. They were settled, talking about living together but not quite pulling the trigger. Wilder’s career was doing really well. He’d taken part in four exhibitions in less than a calendar year and there was a lot of attention coming his way. There were offers coming out of Chicago and New York for residencies and some teaching opportunities.

There was a bad fire at a compound. Tommy got second-degree burns and had pretty bad smoke inhalation. Wilder hoped that after that, maybe he’d rethink his career.

Things got worse.

Still, somehow they found their way through. As they came upon their second anniversary, it felt like they were reaching the other side. There were still offers on the table for Wilder, and he had floated a few of them to Tommy. In return, Tommy had fully supported the suggestion for a three-month residency in Chicago. He would remain in L.A. during Wilder’s time away, but it was good for Wilder, and as Tommy had said to him at the time, ‘what’s good for you is good for us’.

Except, the offers didn’t stop at Chicago. He was weeks away from finishing his residency when he was offered the opportunity to take part in an exhibition in Texas. What was supposed to be a two week trip there turned into four months, and their anniversary came and went with little more than phone calls and the occasional flight out for a twenty-four or forty-eight hours together.

After Texas was Savannah, Georgia. Then Charlotte, North Carolina. Then a month-long trip to Florida with a few guest lectures at FSU. Eight months into what should’ve been the third year of their relationship, Wilder hadn’t seen Tommy more than fifteen days total. And the thing was, the love was still there.

But they weren’t in love anymore, and he knew they both felt it. Tommy loved his job just as much as Wilder loved his. Neither of them were going to give up their careers, and they weren’t going to ask the other to, either.

It ended on a facetime call, just a few weeks before their anniversary. There were tears shed, although it was more a sadness at the loss of what they’d hoped they could be than it was at the actual relationship. There were ‘I love you’s. And then there was silence.

. . .

The first time Wilder meets Evan Buckley, he’s barely been back in Los Angeles for a week. He’s set to start a residency for the summer and then take on a teaching position at UCLA in the fall. He’s supposed to be meeting some friends for dinner when the blonde man bumps into him at the bar, stammering out an apology with full hands as they turn to face each other.

Evan looks at him with a weird expression that Wilder doesn’t fully understand at the time. He dismisses the bump as equally his own fault and then turns his attention back toward the bar.

“Hi, baby. Sorry, I’m late.”

That voice feels like someone just poured a shot of Jack Tennessee Honey down Wilder’s throat. All the heat with none of the burn. As he turns back around, he spots a familiar head of brown curls just as the blonde tilts up toward him, and then Tommy is kissing the other man. Wilder inhales a sharp breath.

The thing is, it’s been more than a year. It’s been even longer since he and Tommy were something real. But something about seeing him kiss another man still stirs something in Wilder’s chest.

Still, he decides it’s not his place. Not here, and not tonight. He steps away from the bar and moves down some ten feet, around the corner of it and in between a few people.

. . .

“So were you going to call me?”

It’s been three days. WIlder is standing in the middle of an aisle at Blick, trying to decide between Golden and WIndsor Newton acrylics when he looks up. Tommy has a basket in his hand, half-full with small canvases and a fair amount of Liquitex.

“Hey, T,” he greets cordially. Tommy smiles at him and then steps forward, offering him a side hug. Wilder accepts it, tucking his chin over Tommy’s shoulder. “Good to see you.”

“I had to call your mom,” Tommy states when they part.

“I was gonna call at some point,” WIlder states a bit sheepishly.

“You always go with Windsor,” Tommy comments, as though he can hear the argument in Wilder’s head. “Forget Golden.”

Wilder chuckles. “Sure.” He’s quiet for a moment, reaches out for a tube of Windsor Newton. As he stares at the unbleached titanium shade in his hand, he contemplates. He tilts his head after a moment, glances over at Tommy. “So. The new guy.”

There’s a glint of something in Tommy’s eye that Wilder hasn’t seen in at least five years. Something he saw once, after their first drunken kiss.

“His name is Evan,” Tommy replies. He lets out a soft sgh. “He thought I was introducing you two. Had a hell of a time explaining to him that I didn’t even know you were back.”

Wilder nods. That familiar twinge of jealousy throbs in his chest, under his heart.

“You sticking around,” Tommy asks him after another minute of silence. Wilder glances back up at him.

“Got a residency downtown,” he replies. “And then UCLA in the fall. So I’ll be here, yeah.”

Tommy nods. “We should get dinner. Evan wants to meet you properly.”

“Sure,” Wilder says again. What else is he supposed to say? They’re not together anymore.

“Give me call when you’re more settled. We’ll plan something,” Tommy says with a pat to Wilder’s shoulder. He’s walking backwards then, heading back down the aisle. He shakes a finger in Wilder’s direction. “Good to see you, Wy.”

. . .

The second time Wilder meets Evan Buckley, they’re in another bar. He’s been in the studio almost exclusively for the better part of a week and had been dragged out by a friend with the promise of carbs—his fridge might’ve been mostly empty, other than juice boxes and pepperoni slices—but carbs is apparently at a bar that doubles as a pizzeria.

He’s not following them, he swears. But he’s been waiting for ten minutes on his pizza while his friend is on the phone with his girlfriend when Tommy strolls up to the bar with his boyfriend—Evan? Tommy has his arm wrapped around the younger man’s hip, head tilted in and listening as Evan prattles on with very animated expressions. Wilder isn’t even sure what he’s on about, but regardless, Tommy is nodding along, clearly invested.

When they make it up to the bar, some five feet away, Tommy’s arm wraps around Evan, boxing him in. There’s a grin on his face and Wilder notices as Evan leans back into Tommy’s body, turns his head and says something into his ear. Tommy laughs, loud enough that the tinkling sound of it carries in Wilder’s direction.

“Four for Buckley,” one of the barbacks calls out. Evan raises his hand and the man steps over with boxes of pizza. At the same time, someone from the kitchen yells out, “Veggie with mushrooms, light alfredo up.”

Tommy lifts his head at that, leans back from Evan just enough to look around the bar before his eyes eventually fall on Wilder. He smiles at him. A few seconds later, he’s up next to Evan’s ear, and then Evan glances over in Wilder’s direction. There’s a half-second pause where Evan seems to be taking him in before he smiles affiliatively at Wilder. Evan picks up the pizzas and Tommy switches the arm he has around Evan’s waist as they stride over. As they reach him, another person is settling Wilder’s pizza in front of him.

“So do you just hang out at all the best bars in LA,” Evan asks when they reach him.

“Honestly, I’m usually locked up in the studio,” Wilder replies. He glances in Tommy’s direction, but Tommy is still looking at Evan. Still that look in his eyes. Evan moves a hand from under the pizzas and extends it.

“Evan Buckley. Most people call me Buck though,” he states. Wilder extends a hand to him, shaking it.

“Wilder Gray.”

Evan nods. “I know.” There’s an expression on his face that’s caught somewhere between a multitude of emotions. A look that falls somewhere between curiosity, understanding, and skepticism. Wilder looks him over, spots the emblem on his t-shirt.

“You’re a firefighter,” he muses.

“And you’re a multidisciplinary artist,” Evan replies.

Wilder nods. It’s interesting. It’s like they’re meeting for the most cordial duel of all time, but neither of them have brought guns; just clipboards and pens.

A phone rings, and Tommy glances away from them. A moment later, he looks back up.

“Hey baby that’s Eddie and Chris wondering why we haven’t brought dinner back,” he states, giving Evan’s hip a light squeeze. Evan nods, although his gaze lingers on Wilder for a few seconds longer. He turns then, leans into Tommy. Wilder watches as whatever tension is left in Tommy’s body seeps away.

God damn. He really wanted to not be able to like Evan Buckley.

“See you around,” Evan states after a moment, glancing in Wilder’s direction again. Wilder nods at him. As Evan and Tommy walk away, Tommy’s hand still on Evan’s hip, his friend strides back across the room

“Hey, what’d I miss?”

. . .

A few weeks go by without any run-ins. Maybe it’s because Evan and Tommy find other places to hang out. Maybe it’s because Wilder basically lives in his studio (it’s definitely not that). Maybe it’s because of wildfire season (it might be that). Either way, Wilder doesn’t see much social interaction beyond his friends occasionally dropping by the studio and his parents stopping in to drag him into the sunlight. Once or twice he opens grindr, but nothing promising pans out.

It’s mid August when Wilder spots them out together again. Another bar, another set of drinks. He’s been flirting with a guy who introduced himself three minutes after Wilder walked through the door when he spots Evan on the other side of the room. He almost thinks about going over to say something, but there’s a look in his expression.

Something that looks curiously like defeat. Tommy is standing next to him—Wilder could place that mop of hair anywhere—talking into his ear much like he was that first night all those weeks back. He tries to look away enough to not make Evan look in his direction, realize he’s being stared at. But he sees the way Tommy’s talking calms Evan, the way he leans into him. The way their communication wipes out the defeat in Evan’s expression and replaces it with a small smile. And then a laugh. And then before long, Tommy has Evan half tipped on the barstool, their noses and foreheads pressed together as Evan straight-up giggles. Tommy is laughing with him, and fuck.

Wilder really wanted to not like Evan Buckley.

But Evan Buckley isn’t Mike, holding Tommy hard enough to hurt him (although the way he fists Tommy’s t-shirt before he kisses him makes a different kind of jealousy stir in Wilder, like these two probably throw each other around a bedroom with ease, and he wants to see that). Evan Buckley clearly isn’t Leo, just looking to fuck Tommy hard into a mattress and leave him behind.

Evan Buckley might be a little like Ezra, and Wilder isn’t sure how he clocks that. Except, there’s an ease about him that Ezra never had. Evan Buckley clearly wasn’t looking for an education. The love in his eyes was obvious to the entire damn bar, whether they wanted to know or not.

Evan Buckley definitely was not Charlie. He was openly making out with Tommy in public, hands all over the man’s body in a way that Wilder could tell was at least partially to tell the world ‘this is mine, and only mine’.

. . .

It’s an early morning in September when they run into each other. Wilder is definitely not prepared for an eight AM class, and he’s questioning why he agreed to take this particular one on, but there’s no option to back out now.

He stands inside the café wearily, waiting on his order, when the door chimes with ringing bells and he glances up. Evan Buckley.

The blonde is in a hoodie Wilder recognizes as Tommy’s. The Harbor Station seal is on the back of it with his last name printed across the bottom. Evan yawns as he walks up to the counter and grabs two coffees. Knowing the kind of schedules they work, it seems Evan is heading home while Wilder is just starting his day.

Except, Evan stops in his tracks when their eyes meet.

“Evan,” he comments softly, acknowledging the other man. “Or, Buck. If you prefer.”

Evan shrugs. “Evan is fine.” A pause. “Wilder. Its…convenient? To see you.”

Wilder lets out a small chuckle. He nods.

Evan walks forward a few steps, as though he’s not going to say anything further, and he makes it about a half-step past Wilder before he stops, leans back slightly, contemplating. He looks up at him.

“He still talks about you,” he states. There’s no jealousy in his tone, no anger. Almost like he’s just putting the information out into the universe. Wilder nods again. He stares at Evan for a moment and then tilts his head slightly, almost like he’s letting him in on a secret.

“And he’s in love with you.”

Evan stares at him for a moment, and Wilder isn’t sure if Evan has realized that or not. His expression doesn’t let on one way or the other.

Wilder takes a deep breath and the corner of his mouth pulls up a little into a small smirk.

“Tommy never once looked at me the way he does you,” he states. “Not even during the best of it all. And me? I couldn’t ever fully accept the job.” He pauses for a moment, contemplating whether he needs to say more. Even if he doesn’t, he continues anyway. “I found him when he needed a friend. You founded him when he needed a partner.”

A smile pulls at Evan’s face. If he has anything else to say, he doesn’t get the chance. His phone starts to buzz in the pocket of the hoodie, and he stacks the coffees together before pulling it out, answering the call, shooting only half a glance in Wilder’s direction before he speaks.

“Hi, babe. No, I already got it. I’ll be there in like five.”

. . .

It’s the first week of December. Wilder is exhausted, maybe even a little burnt out, but riding high. His residency has panned out into an exhibition, and it’s the opening night. He’s been bouncing all over the gallery, trying to greet everyone and talk to them, see what they do and don’t like about the work presented.

A hand comes down on his shoulder as he finally finds a few seconds to get a bottle of water, and he spins. Tommy.

“Hey, T,” he greets cheerfully, if not a little weary. “Thanks for coming.”

Tommy nods, and they share a quick hug.

“How’d you hear,” he asks. Tommy gestures off towards one of the walls and Wilder glances over.

“Evan saw the listing,” he states. “Told all of our friends we needed to come support. He’s really obsessed with that picture of your nephews.”

WIlder glances over at the picture. It’s a large portrait, of two children facing away from the camera. One, old enough and tall enough that he isn’t even in the image aside from his torso and legs, with his hand resting on the younger one’s head. The younger child is a toddler, leaning into his sibling’s leg with his arm wrapped around it.

“I’ve been tasked with getting your price list,” Tommy adds.

Wilder lets out a soft huff as a smile tugs across his lips.

He wanted to hate Evan Buckley. He wanted Evan Buckley to be like Mike. Or Leo. Or Ezra. Or Charlie.

He wanted Evan Buckley to not be like him, not love and respect Tommy the way he did. But then…

Evan Buckley isn’t like Wilder. Evan Buckley supports the people his boyfriend cares about. Evan Buckley doesn’t care that Tommy is a firefighter or a pilot. Evan Buckley clearly likes art. Wilder barely knows him, and yet he already knows Evan Buckley is caring and selfless.

He takes a breath and sighs, glancing back at Tommy, watching the way he watches Evan.

“You’re gonna marry him.” It’s not a question.

Tommy shifts his gaze back to Wilder. It’s the slightest movement, entirely imperceptible to someone who wouldn’t know otherwise. The twitch of the corner of his mouth, of his eyebrow.

“Forever doesn’t seem nearly long enough,” Tommy says softly.

Wilder can only shake his head at him as he smiles at his ex-boyfriend.

“Well, when you start interviewing wedding photographers, I’d like to at least be consulted,” he states, extending a hand to Tommy. Tommy laughs at him but shakes his hand anyway.

“Sure, Wy. But you should know, Evan’s seen your paintings and he wants one commissioned.”

“I’ll take that payday,” Wilder says with a laugh. When Tommy lets go of his hand, he pats Wilder’s shoulder, and then he’s off again, heading back over to Evan and the friends they brought with them. Wilder stands in his spot a moment longer, both hands on the waterbottle he still hasn’t had a drink from. He watches as Tommy’s arm loops around Evan’s waist, and as Evan leans into him. The way Evan points at a portrait and talks to Tommy earnestly about whatever it is he sees. The way Tommy is completely enraptured by Evan’s words, nodding and smiling at him with interest.

The way Evan puts his hand on the back of Tommy’s head as he leans into him, whispers into his ear. How, when Tommy turns into him to answer, Evan looks at him like he’s the only person in the room.

The way jealousy still lives inside Wilder, but not the way it was that first night. No, this jealousy is from the way they look at each other, the way Wilder only hopes someone will hopefully look at him one day. He finally looks away when the two men kiss, cracking open his water bottle. He manages to get a sip off of it before someone else is walking up to him.

“You’re the artist, right?”

#bucktommy positivity week #bucktommy #tevan #mini #firepilot #firebeast #the picture referenced is one of mine #outsider perspective #wilder

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rekino2114 · 2 months ago

Note

Hello. I just foind you and i love the way you write

Could you write for a Arei x reader, but reader follows Arei to the playground out of paranoia?

(Since this is my first request i won’t give too many details, maybe i get more confident and ask for more detailed things another day.)

You are doing good work the despair time x reader community

Saving arei nageishi

[Spoilers for drdt]

A/n:Thanks, I'm glad you like my stuff and hope you keep requesting and enjoying it, I love drdt and I'm glad you like what I write for it

Being in the killing game felt like a nightmare. You still couldn't believe the fact that you were being forced to kill each other, but then the first trial happened an the gravity of this game truly hit you.

Seeing min in such despair made you realize how horrible this situation truly was, you couldn't even look at her execution, you were so scared, so scared that that could happen to you but especially that it could happen to arei

You loved arei with all of your heart and the thought of anything happening to her made you feel so bad, you would have been so empty and alone without her so you decided to dedicate everything to protecting her, you even started sleeping and staying in the same dorm most of the time, you wanted nothing more than to make her stay alive.

"Where are you going?"

"Oh, to meet eden"

"Hm? Why?"

"She wrote this to me"

She handed you a note telling her to meet in the playground

"She probably wants to talk, we....kinda became friends actually"

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, Arturo was threatening her so I came and saved her ass and now we're besties"

"Wow.......I'm really proud of you....for making your first friend"

"You make it sound like I'm six when you put it like that, also don't you count?"

"......I guess, I thought we were more than that thought"

"We are, being also friends is just part of the package"

You giggled and continued looking at the note a bad feeling growing in your chest

"Sooooo I'm gonna go n-"

"Can I come with you?"

"Hm? Why?"

"I.......I don't want you to go alone, we're still in a killing game, remember what happened to teruko?"

She sighed, her gazing moving around before focusing back on you

"......I don't know, what if it's something private"

"Then I'll leave, I just need to make sure it's actually eden you're meeting, I need to know you're safe"

".......fine, I wouldn't want you to die either"

"Thank you"

You gave the note back to arei, and you two exited her dorm, but before you could fully leave, you felt arei's gloved hand wrap around yours. When you looked back at her, you found her smiling brightly at you

"......I'm glad that you care so much about me"

"It's literally the least I could do"

"Yeah, but still, it's nice"

You smiled back at her as you made your way outside

When you arrived at the playground, everything was quiet and no one was there. You were about to turn to arei to tell her to go back, but when you did, you saw an arm wrap around her neck and starting to strangle her

You immediately jumped at her, making her fall and saving her in the meantime, arei took this moment to catch her breath while you looked up at who was strangling her and saw ace

"WHAT THE FUCK!? DID YOU WANT TO KILL HER!?"

"I.......i"

"Answer you fucking bastard!? Were you seriously gonna kill me?"

"..............."

"I said answe-"

"FUCK YOU! BOTH OF YOU!"

"..........."

"You have no idea what it's like, I'm gonna die, and I'm so scared, I.......I had to-"

He was interrupted by arei slapping him

"Are you a fucking moron? Do you think we all don't feel scared about this, that you're the only one who doesn't want to die, well news flash no one fucking does! Especially me, and you were just gonna kill me because of that!? Fuck off you should have died when nico tried to kill you"

Ace stood frozen for a while before scoffing and going away dejectedly. After what she said, arei looked at the ground and started breathing again. You bent down and pat her back

"......I'm here if there's-"

"Thank you"

"............."

"Thank you....so fucking much"

You saw some tears starting to hit the playground floor

"You saved my life.......i-i don't know what to say"

"It's nothing. What was I supposed to do, watch the person I love die?"

Arei wiped her tears and looked at you, your words echoing in her heart

"I think you're the first person I met that would have saved me"

"Eh?"

"If anyone else i met was here......they would have probably watched me die and said I deserved it"

You stayed silent and hugged your girlfriend, her arms wrapping around you

".....it's because I love you"

"......yeah, I know and......I love you too...thank you again....thank you so so much"

#danganronpa despair time x reader #danganronpa despair time #x reader #drdt x reader #drdt #arei nageishi x reader #arei nageishi #arei drdt #drdt arei #despair time x reader #despair time #gn reader

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hello-nichya-here · 5 months ago

Note

Is stockholm syndrome a real disorder or is it a myth? Do you have anything to say on it?

Pretty much every competent therapist currently agrees that Stockholm Syndrome is made up - and their reasoning becomes quite easy to understand once we look at the incident that led to said "disorder" being introduced to the world.

In 1973, two men took four hostages while trying to rob a bank in Stockholm, Sweden. Six days later, when the hostages were finally freed, not only did not testify against their captors, they were actively raising money to try and get them a decent defense in court.

Sounds crazy, right? Like these people were either already insane or were brainwashed somehow? That's what the psychologist that the police turned to explain the victims' "strange" behavior thought, and he thus created the term for the "disorder" that makes people bond with their captors and believe in their humanity, while wrongfully mistrusting/resenting the authorities that are just trying to help.

But that "diagnosis/theory" already has quite a few issues if simply look at the way this psychologist handled it: He never even spoke to the hostages to try and understand why the fuck they were acting that way.

No matter how qualified of a doctor you are, you do not diagnose someone you've never spoken to because said diagnosis will be based on your assumptions about that person and their situation, not on the actual experience and feelings that only they could accurately describe to you. He diagnosed these people based on literally nothing. He might as well have labeled them as having schizophrenia and hearing voices that told them to not testify against the man, or having multiple-personalities, or being bipolar, or having literally any other condition with symptoms that he did not even know if they genuinely shown.

If he had bothered to talk to the four victims, he would have discovered a few things:

1 - The police was being so incompetent in negotiating, that it forced the hostages to negotiate with their captors directly. Naturally they were very afraid of having to confront these men that could shoot them dead at any second and were not happy about the police, who was supposed to protect them, exposing them to such danger. In turn, the captors were shaken by the experience of having these frightened people who posed no threat to them looking them in the eye and simply begging for lives.

2 - The captor beings shaken and second-guessing themselves for putting these people in such hell earned them some sympathy from the victims, and, more importantly, gave them hope that they COULD reason with the criminals and thus they were less afraid of them and continued treating them kindly - which only made them second-guess themselves more, which earned them more empathy and gave the hostages even more hope, which made then act even kinder to the criminals, and so on and so on.

3 - The police repeatedly made the situation worse by threatening to shoot the captors with the hostages in the room - making the hostages afraid that they'd be caught in the crossfire, accidentally shot by the cops themselves, or that the captors would panic and shoot them. One of the hostages even told the cops "You're going to get us killed" and basically got a "You'll have to accept that you're gonna die then" as a response. The police's incompetence made the hostages realize bonding with their captors was the ONLY WAY to have ANY chance of surviving because they could actually be reasoned with, unlike the cops. The police pushed them into a US VS THEM situation. They stopped being four people being held hostage by two evil men and instead became a group of six trapped inside a building together, unsure if they would survive the crazy cops outside.

Stockholm syndrome is bullshit because it ignores three crucial facts:

1 - Human beings are social animals. "Bond with the people around you and work as a group" is a survival tactic so old it might as well be permanently part of our DNA. It's in our nature to try and form bonds with others, even in awful situations, even with people that don't "deserve" it, even if they are temporary, because that's the ONLY way we know how to live. That survival tactic is not without flaws, but it exists for a reason. We are so social we bond with other species, for fuck's sake!

2 - Authorities are not perfect. They are equally flawed human beings that can sometimes do more harm than good, and sometimes NOT trusting them is inevitable - and the only sane thing to do when they make it clear that your life doesn't matter to them.

3 - Bad people ARE humans. Their humanity DOES exist. It's a fact. They are capable of vile things, yes, but they are also capable of experiencing compassion and regret - meaning people can in turn FORGIVE them. Mercy, and even affection, towards a bad person is not a pathology.

That's what "stockholm syndrome" actually is. Forgiveness.

Do people sometimes forgive people who don't deserve it and get hurt again? Obviously. Are people sometimes put in situations in which they have no choice but to forgive, or at least temporarely not be hostile to, someone who wronged them? Yes.

But that doesn't make their forgiveness a mental illness that needs to be treated. It's just an emotional response humans are practically biologically trained to experience because, again, we are social animals. We don't know how to exist by ourselves. We NEED others. And the only options available to bond with being less than ideal has never stopped anyone from trying just in case it lets them live a little longer.

#asks #stockholm syndrome

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jellyskink · 2 months ago

Note

Just another Manic Muesday (Sorry I couldn't think of a better title lol.)

"Alright Dr. Pines, I'm pleased to report that your lab results for your bloodwork have finally been logged and updated to our medical system since the last we saw each other."

"H-huh? Oh! I'm certainly glad to hear that Dr. Oleander! Forgive me, I'm afraid my mind was wandering just now."

Sunshine shown through the windows of the medical doctor's office, bathing parts of the room with it's comforting warm rays. Outside, leaves of different colors and types scattered in the breeze with an air of playfullness to them. It was truly a lovely autumn day.

At least... it was as lovely as it could get lately. When it wasn't the occasional inanimate object coming to life to either cause mischief, panic, harm, or all of the above, the slowly randomizing weather definitely made it trickier to enjoy nature.

Quite literally the other day it was a record-breaking freezing winter, followed the day after by a sweltering summer so hot that not only could you fry an egg on the sidewalk, but you could fry the chicken that laid it as well if you wanted to.

"That's quite alright, I just wanted to let you know that we did find some rather... interesting results."

"What kind of results? A-anything my Muse should be concerned over? I must inform him if there's anything that would cause him to worry over me!"

"Er, it's nothing as dire as that I assure you. I moreso wanted to let you know that in comparison to your first blood test, there's improvement to your overall health! I'm really proud of you that you're making progress."

"O-oh um thanks I suppose? I don't believe it's because of my choices truthfully. If it wasn't for my Muse's instance and kindness about my health I don't believe I could've done it on my own!"

"Dr. Pines I don't think you're giving yourself enough credit, only those who want help can accept it as they always say..."

"No, no! I'm serious! I'm truly thankful he's been stern that I see Stanley on a regular basis!

I'm quite forgetful with taking care to see him regularly. Stanley's always worried about me, it pains me to see him filled with grief whenever I'm unable to talk to him for a bit due to my Muse and I's busy schedule.

Without him I'm sure my health and relationship with my Brother would be absolutely horrible!"

"..."

"Dr. Oleander? Is something the matter? You aren't speaking to me as much as you usually do."

"Forgive me Dr. Pines, I'm just a bit conflicted right now. I've just got a lot on my mind as well. On a similar subject, I do want to apologize for overstepping my boundaries with talking to you about your relationship with Mr.Cipher."

"..."

"I-it's fine. I know you didn't mean to be so crude on purpose. My Muse and I's relationship is often a subject to many due to it's complex and sublime love."

"Yes I believe you're right... Forgive me Doctor, I have a tendency to involve myself too much in my work."

"You d-don't need to apologize for that! It's a quality my Muse approves of you for! He wouldn't let just anyone treat any medical problems I have, the fact you have his trust is a sign you're great at what you do Doctor Oleander."

"... I appreciate your reassurance, though it still isn't very professional of me to be so casual with my speech with you about my troubles with my confidence as a medical practitioner."

"I don't mind! I swear!! I-I think you're a lot like the plant you share your surname with."

"I'm sorry?"

"Y-you know, Oleander? Also known as Rosebay? It's a perennial shrub and tree known and loved for it's vitality, resilience, and beauty.

My Muse likes the fact every part of it is poisonous, it's definitely a kicker that's certain!

Personally I love the fact that certain species of caterpillars use the plant as both a food source and a way to defend themselves against predators!

In particular, there's a species of moths known as the Oleander Hawk Moth, that does this! It's a very interesting and rare kind of Moth to see! I personally consider it to be one of my favorites!"

"Haha! Is that so? W-well thank you Doctor for that compliment and the accompanying fact."

"..."

"Ick are you two nerds just about done being boring together?"

"O-oh! Mr. Cipher! My apologies! We were just about done with Dr. Pine's appointment. It's my fault for taking longer than usual with his appointment..."

"You know Doco? Normally I'd be furious buuut this does mean Sixer finally has a buddy to talk about his more boring nerd things with!

Congrats! You've redeemed yourself from me needing to find Sixer a new doctor!

This is definitely a blessing in disguise for me as you humans say! Now, be a doll and tell Sixer to hurry on home now? We've got places to be and mayhem to cause!"

"Of course Mr.Cipher. I'll be sure to do that right away."

"Oh and Doco before I forget, just know that I'll be keeping a closer eye on the time in the future. Fordsy's on a pretty tight schedule you know! I'd hate to have to CUT into both you and him over not keeping track of time.

Although that would mean I'd have the chance to change things up when my pet needs a reminder that he needs to behave... And I would have the chance to really see how your meatsacks work without needing to worry about needing to harm a hair on Sixer's head...

Whoops did I say that out loud? Haha! My bad! Anyways, pleasure talking with you Doco! Byee!!"

"Ugghh..."

"Dr.Pines! Er, I'm sorry to have to cut this conversation short, but Mr.Cipher has requested I let you know that you've been out for a while and must return back to him as quickly as you can."

*Gasp* "O-Oh no! Please forgive me my Muse! I didn't mean to forget to watch the time! I'll be home soon!! ThankyouforyourtimeDr.OleanderbutIsimplymustbegoing!!"

"Dr.Pines, I'll have your meds refilled and ready by hopefully the end of today!!"

*Sigh* "I really need to think about changing professions..."

(Just as soon as she says this, Mcgucket falls out of a tree very ungracefully, scampering after Ford.

"???"

"What the-? Okayyy and now cowboy hillbillies are just falling out of trees now. Why am I surprised??

I'm going home early today, I deserve it. It's too early for this. I can't wait to just go back to bed and hug Calamari soon..."

(I hope you likes my attempt at some fanfiction! I wasn't sure if I should write it like a book or like a visual novel. The font stuff is probably really wonky because I typed this all around 1am and on my phone so my apologies for that lol.

I'm glad you liked my idea at trying to write some fanfiction about your au's Ford and Irene. Or would it be friendfiction in this case?? Anyways, I think I like the platonic route too. Maybe if Ford and Irene were to be a ship it'd be a friends to lovers thing or something? Idk. I was thinking about writing a more Irene and Calamari focused sequal to this, but I'm not sure if I should? Idk lmaoo.)

THIS ANON WROTE A REALLY CUTE FRIENDSHIPPING FIC OF FORD AND OLEANDER looklooklook it's so cuuuuuute 💕

#domesticated ford #ask #fanfic #dr oleander #omg so precious #thank you anon!!!#please compliment anon everyone #ask fiction

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menlove · 7 months ago

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What do you think actually happened between John and Paul that caused John to become so bitter and vindictive towards Paul? If I remember correctly, the prevailing theory of John being rejected by Paul was actually conceived to retroactively 'explain ' John's behavior because otherwise it seems inexplicable why he would turn on so completely on the person who had been arguably his closest friend, if not lover. However, it's evident from Paul's lyrics and interview to Hunter Davies that he is entirely confused and hurt by John's behavior. Like he even complains everyone always looks to him for blame but nobody sees how much he was hurt by John. I'm not trying to take any sides here of course, both John and Paul had their faults and issues which complicated their relationship but genuinely curious to hear what your theory is.

honestly? bpd. like I barely even think of it as a theory, although ofc it is, bc sooooo many people agree that john could have Easily been diagnosed w bpd

like there's a thing called splitting w bpd where you just. like on a Dime you can't stand someone. and this can be very brief (I've split on people and it lasted like an hour) or permanent but it's very common. like you go every quickly from idealization to demonization of a person. or complete apathy (which is my personal kryptonite rip)

not only that but there's quite a few paul quotes where he talks about the fact that john started "slagging him off" as a way to distance himself from paul/the beatles and sort of "prove" to yoko that he was entirely devoted to her. which also makes sense to me as a bpd cunt bc I've unfortunately done that too 😭 and it's not necessarily an act either, it's just like.......... your brain can't make room for the way you feel for a New Person and an Old Person so you start analyzing everything that Old Person did and finding every flaw and magnifying it and blowing it up until you start feeling bitter or angry and suddenly in your mind someone that was once your world is like. some kind of villain out of a storybook.

and this is very very difficult to deal with and he wasn't really........ getting any help or outside people telling him that his view of paul/the beatles was being distorted. yoko was also pretty paranoid & from several sources encouraged his bitterness/paranoia (which isn't a dunk on her- I'm just a firm believer that she was a Complicated Person and villifying OR deifying is just weird and racist). not to Mention the scream therapy stuff, where I'm Pretty sure he himself has even said he was encouraged to pick apart his life and relationships and find Issues.

so you've got someone whose brain is already a goddamn game of mouse trap telling him that if he's not w paul/the beatles anymore he Has to hate him, surrounded by people encouraging that line of thought, and hounded by media asking him about it and pitting him against paul

and with that in mind, I do think it was also a bit exaggerated by the media. it was definitely encouraged, that's for sure. but even if john didn't Hate Paul, that's how it would be portrayed bc it made a more dramatic and interesting story. they'd ask him (and paul) leading questions to get the most material.

I honestly don't find it inexplicable that he'd turn on him without a "reason" so maybe my own mouse trap of a brain is part of why I disagree so much w that dominant narrative of rejection to explain it 😭 bc for me and many other bpd cunts I know it's just. it could Literally be nothing. often it's just a SENSE of rejection that will cause a split. and I'm willing to bet that their growing distance, paul pushing the band harder to work after brian died, paul not really accepting yoko and johnandyoko, the possible dying out of a sexual aspect of their relationship, paul proposing to jane & later getting with/marrying linda, paul Accepting john's ask for a divorce, paul going out and making an album on his own....... well. it's a perfect storm for my fellow bpd bitch to go "well fuck him I never loved him that guy fucking sucks and whatever he does doesn't hurt me anyway bc I don't care At All he's just the absolute worst and I can't stand him"

which of course had to be whiplash for paul. from his pov it was genuinely out of nowhere. but I will say all his comments about it and john needing to put him/the beatles aside for yoko and just..... all his quotes around john's mental health seem to be very VERY aware of all this. he knew john better than anyone & his main confusion seems to be around whether or not john ever actually loved or even liked him. which is an understandable emotional reaction. I think, though, he does show a deep understanding of john when he talks about all of this which makes me soooo :(

#mclennon #like shdhshsh just as someone w bpd I have to sit there like the duck chuckling gif sometimes #bc like yeah sometimes you Can just randomly hate someone you adored like a month ago #it's hell in here it sucks and it feels sort of like you've been thrown off a cliff

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darlingggdearest · 2 years ago

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Hey I really like your writing

If it's okay, could I have some Yandere!Muichiro headcanons? If you're okay with specific readers, could you make the reader chubby? If not, that's completely okay

Either way, thank you in advance, have a wonderful day/night

AGED UP YANDERE MUICHIRO X FEMALE READER

I'm sorry, however I like to leave my works inclusive to all body types so I won't do something specific with the readers body. I hope you like this anyway! Have a nice day, and of course, thank you for requesting!

+ Congratulations! You have won the mist hashira's heart!

+ Maybe this isn't such a congratulatory event considering he becomes obsessed and quite literally crazy over you.

+ Besides the crazy part, I think Muichiro is a fascinating yandere to write about, there are so many aspects of his character to consider before you can truly make an accurate assumption about how he would act lovestruck with a girl. For one, I think you caught his attention because of the fact he couldn't forget you. Maybe it was your beauty, or your grace, perhaps your personality made it so he couldn't stop himself from wondering about you every day, but whatever it was, he thirst for more. He had seen other pretty ladies all across Japan, however, there was something about you that he couldn't get out of his mind.

+ At first, he would hide his true obsession for you deep within himself. On the outside, it seemed like an innocent crush. He followed you around like a lost puppy, a soft smile adorning his face every time you did something he deemed "cute". Other times, he would help you out with small tasks, like sharpening your blade, or helping you around the butterfly mansion. You appreciated the help, and never even noticed how his warm smile turned into a sour grimace every time someone else spoke to you.

+ The next stage in his obsession would be overprotectiveness. He would follow you on missions, always showing up at the last moment to save you whether you needed it or not. In Muichiro's mind, you always need to be protected, you're too small and fragile to protect yourself. Another part of this next stage would be an obsessive compulsion to be the only person near you at all times. He can no longer swallow his jealousy of other people. Every time anyone comes near you let alone another man, he gets a searing glob of hot lava weighing him down in the pit of his stomach. To swallow the acid reflux and shove his hatred of the other person down was pure torture for him. So to battle that feeling, he would get more needy towards you, to prove to himself that you did love him and he had nothing to worry about. So for the next few days he rested his head on your shoulder, let his arm drape around your waist, fell asleep in your lap, and whined when you said you needed to go home.

+ With the way he was carrying on, most of the pillars thought you two were a couple, the others who didn't thought you guys were married. ( Muichiro cannot deny that he loves these rumors.)

+ The next and final stage of his love would be the inevitable kidnapping. He had enough with the thought of sharing you with anyone else, so when you two were having your evening tea together, he slipped you something to make you fall asleep. You started to feel nauseous, and weak, black spots clouded you vision and your hearing faded little by little. Muichiro rushed towards you and set your head on his lap, caressing your face and whispering words of comfort to your weakening state. Your vision faded to black.

+ You woke up in the mist estate, on a comfortable silk bed with warm blankets surrounding you, your body sank deep into the plush material of the mattress, you felt safe. (gosh I'm so tired right now.) However that was the opposite of how you should be feeling. Muichiro lay beside you with his limbs wrapped around your waist and torso, he was holding on to you for dear life, pressing your face into his neck and holding the back of your head with his hand as to push you closer to him. His eyes fluttered open at your change of breathing, and he looked down at you. His eyes held the most sincere and warm stare you had ever seen, he looked more happy then you had ever seen him before in your life. To your surprise, Muichiro started to pepper your face with kisses, finally planting one on your lips making you gasp, and in turn, he chuckled.

+ " Oh darling, I cannot explain to you how long I have waited to finally have you in my arms like this, welcome home angel."

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH

This is not my best work, cause I wrote this during a writers block. But hey! At least I finished it!

#demon slayer #demon slayer headcanons #demon slayer x y/n #demon slayer fanfic #muichiro demon slayer #muichiro tokito #kny muichiro #muichiro x reader #demon slayer muichiro #muichiro x you #kimetsu muichiro #muichiro headcanons #yandere muichiro #yandere x reader #yandere male #soft yandere #muichiro x y/n #writers block

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lightlycareless · 1 year ago

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okay i have a headcanon but what if y/n has this like very new lip balm that has like a really good fragrance and taste to it and naoya is like "what did u put on ur lips" when they kissed

then goes on and buy like 20 of them so she would never run out of it 🏃‍♀️

and naoya gets comments abt how his lips look fuller and hydrated but its just the result of them kissing nonstop because of the lip balm-

Hello anon!!!!!

Now THIS is something I had lots of fun writing hhahahahahahahahahahahahahhaahha specially after that dream I got with the lipstick... everything is alingning....

I genuinely believe Naoya would obsess over something like this—like, he's intoxicated in your scent, now add something sweet/tasty? He's an addict :)

Anyways, I won't say much hehe I hope you enjoy the little drabble I wrote:

warnings: tiniest mentions/implications of nsfw (smut, you know, the deed) and making out. But outside of that, nothing.

Happy reading!

Naoya would first notice something glossy over your lips when meeting up with you for breakfast.

He doesn’t think much of it, except that it looks good, and that it made your lips look even more kissable.

Which obviously, he doesn’t hold back from doing whenever possible, he literally must kiss you once every 5 minutes or he’ll die.

When Naoya eventually kisses you goodbye, off to some other boring mission he needs to do, it’s when he spots the slightest difference from your always welcoming warm and soft lips.

Now, don’t get me wrong, those things were still there much to his heart’s delight, however, a new lingering sweetness would have him dumbfounded for a moment, carefully analyzing this discovery as he licks it up, wondering…

“Did you eat strawberries right now?” You’re no stranger to eating anything sweet that crosses your sight; but that would not be the case—In fact, you’re glad that he noticed, a bright grin quickly forming on your lips as you respond.

“Nope! It’s my new lip balm.” You explain, he raises an eyebrow.

“Lip balm?” Naoya repeats slowly.

“Well actually, a lip balm and an exfoliator! I found them the other day at the mall, that time I went with my staff, remember?” He nods “I was surprised that things like these existed for lips! So, I decided to give it a chance, and I gotta say, my lips definitely feel softer—look!”

You purse your lips into a pout which Naoya doesn’t hesitate to touch with his own lips, pecking them with a gentle kiss—rightfully amused when discovering that you were telling the truth.

“So? What do you think?” you smile, but Naoya doesn’t say anything, opting to give you a kiss instead… and another, and another, as if trying to convince himself he wasn’t making things up.

And you happily obliged initially, taking in all his gestures and returning them too, until you suddenly remembered he was supposed to be on his way to work, unless he wanted to be late!—and all because you wanted to show off your new lip balm, which he also effectively removed by now thanks to his kisses!

“Naoya!” You whine, and your tone was all he needed to understand what you were referring to.

“Just wanted to be sure of the flavor” Naoya smirks. “Didn’t catch it the first time.��

“But you guessed right the first time!!” you cry back, and he gives out a light chuckle before kissing you once more. You pout. “…well, at least one of us is getting their lips hydrated…”

“Don’t be angry, my love, I’ll buy you all the lip balms that you want if that’s the issue.” Naoya promises, pecking your lips one last time before departing off to his next mission.

Even when he had the means to do so (as well as past experiences), you wholeheartedly didn’t expect Naoya to keep his word regarding your lip balms; and you didn’t really care much for it either since you were still trying out this new thing—however, as always, you seemed to have underestimated your husband’s dedication and his fixations, for he quickly became an avid fan of your flavored balms, first seen on the new stick or scrub that would “mysteriously” appear on your vanity just before the other one ended…

Or by the way he’d grab your lips hostage with his, demonstrating both his well-known adoration for you, and newfound curiosity for the new flavor of the moment that lingered on them.

“Na—Naoya…” you’d whimper, or attempt to through his incessant kissing, lips already numb at that point, as he cages you with his arms, keeping you underneath him and against the futon. “St—Stop…”

“What? I’m just trying to see if your new balm is working…” he murmurs, with eyelids halfway open and undeniably drunk in your scent and taste, desire is the only present feeling in his actions. “What is it… cherry?”

“I… I don’t know…” you blushed—but even when complaining about the breathless, heated situation he was putting you through, your lips still searched for his.

“I think so… but it doesn’t matter, we still have lots of flavors to go through…” he purrs before leaning down and closing the gap between the two with another kiss, tongue pushing past your lips and onto your mouth, diving deeper into the intoxicating combination of your flavor alongside the lip balm of the day, the newest sensation he didn’t know he needed until finally trying it.

“What will my little mochi taste like today?” Naoya teases you from over the futon as you apply lip balm onto your lips, just as you diligently did every morning.

Ever since your lips became softer thanks to your new routine, he proclaims you are now living up to that nickname, being the only one he calls you nowadays.

Not that you minded, it was certainly amongst the sweeter of his selection, nonetheless it still flustered you.

“It’s a secret.” You respond. By now Naoya has gotten you a thousand flavors, ones you weren’t even aware they could be used as balms—but given his craving to try them all out (from you), you determined to put on a different one every day just to keep him on his toes.

“Can I at least have a sneak peek?” he smirks. You giggle, shaking your head.

“Nope! Until I come back maybe.” Naoya scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I won’t be away for long, my love, just gotta pick up some things from the store. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Don’t know why you don’t ask the servants to do it…” he says. “We could be spending the morning in bed instead.”

“Because I like to go out once in a while.” You respond. “Besides, this is one of your days off, I want you to rest.”

“Why? Think I won’t be able to with you around?”

You give him a look that asks him if he’s being serious right now.

“Alright, you have a point there, mochi. Just don’t take long.”

After finishing putting on your lip balm and fixing the last details of your makeup, you begin to make way towards him, intending to bid your farewells by kissing his cheek…

Before he outsmarts you by swiftly grabbing you by the arm, pulling you down to him, careful so as to not hurt you, but sternly enough to hold you against him, wrapping his arms around you as he looks down to you, a smirk on his face.

“Naoya!” you whine, attempting to free himself from his grasp, he chuckles. “I gotta go! My staff is waiting for me!”

“Give me a kiss.” Your husband orders. “Or I won’t let you go.”

Did you really think you’d be able to hold him off from trying today’s flavor?

Luckily for him, you love him so much that you easily indulge him without much insistence, giving him a quick, soft kiss at first… until Naoya’s greediness pushes him a step further, converting your soft gestures into a more heated endeavor, his tongue quickly savoring your mouth and your balm of choice—honey, coincidentally his favorite—by gently sucking and biting on your lips, enjoying the treat his wife willingly prepared for him, until the two eventually become breathless, only pulling away when they physically couldn’t continue together.

“You’re going to ruin my make up…” You’re the first to speak, moving your face to the side in efforts to stop him from ravaging you again—how you hated being the voice of reason.

“Alright, alright…” he breathes, kissing your cheek instead. “I guess I can wait for later tonight.”

“You’re insatiable…” you hypocritically murmur, giving him one last kiss before pushing yourself up from the futon, patting away any creases on your dress, turning around to the door soon after…

Only to sharply tense up when Naoya’s hand harshly lands on your ass, a smack that resonated inside the room, making your cheeks even hotter as you quickly aim to confront him.

“Naoya!”

But he only responds to your scolding with a laugh, ignoring your flustered reaction as he goes back onto the futon, attempting to make the best of his day off by resting, until you come back of course.

Because even if he had other things to tend to, it didn’t mean you were free of his clutches.

Naoya was known to be very diligent when it came to his appearance: well-kept and clean were some of the words most associated with him. And depending on who you asked, unconventional too.

But even then, there was no denying that he looked good, liked looking good, and was not afraid to do what he wanted to continue being perceived like that.

However, even when knowledgeable of this aspect of his… something did not match one day.

It was like he had done something to his appearance, different from the norm, yet no one managed to pinpoint what it was. Eventually spurting rumors about it, whispers, all from people trying to figure out what was odd from Naoya-sama’s face, without having to ask him directly…

Until a member of his personal staff was able to notice it. And when he did, he couldn’t believe it, perhaps didn’t want to, never thinking Naoya would be that kind of person, even with his vanity.

But alas, curiosity took ahold of the poor man, and with all embarrassment and courage in the world, decides to ask him.

“Naoya-sama, pardon my intrusion, but I must know.”

Naoya doesn’t respond, never does, really. He doesn’t like interacting with those below him, after all…

The man takes it as his cue to continue.

“Um… well, I… wished to know if you… put something…. On… Your… lips?” the man squeaks out the last part, anyone else would’ve thought he didn’t say anything eligible.

But for an irritated Naoya, with senses heightened thanks to that same frustration, it was nothing but clear.

“What?” he asks, with a tone that immediately makes his servant tense up.

“No, I mean—They look good!” He rushes to explain, thinking his question had been misinterpreted into something negative. “Hydrated… and all that. They seem healthy!”

“Don’t you have anything better to do than stare at my lips?” Naoya frowns, the room seems to start spinning around the man.

“No! I mean—yes, I do!” He cries, wishing nothing but the earth to open and swallow him whole, alongside his shame, humiliation, and blatant stupidity for having thought bringing up this topic was a smart career move! What was he even thinking? Oh, now he’s going to get fired! “I’m—I’m sorry.”

“Get out of my sight.” Is all that your husband says, not that he needed to do much after that; he didn’t even get a chance to threaten him before the man was already out of the room and far away, freeing Naoya of his senseless idiocies and allowing him to continue enjoying his meal in peace.

Yet, even when the interaction between the two was nothing less than undesirable, Naoya couldn’t stop himself from chuckling, finding his observation to be particularly accurate, hoping that you’d come back soon to continue his “treatment” and wondering where else it could also work…

bigasspervert... lol also I think Naoya might've thought his staff member had the hots for him, omg 😂 I mean what else could he think from that???? hhahahahahah

Anyways, I want to write that lipstick story. Imma do it. :) Hopefully soon, after everything else...

Thank you so much for sending in this ask! It was a joy to write for sure ❤️❤️❤️take care and hope to see you soon. ❤️

#ask #naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #prompt series: jujutsu kaisen

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