#there has to be something obviously different about me dangling over my head that everyone sees except me??
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'You wear different clothes than other girls'
I wear jeans, skirts and jumpers, what is that even supposed to mean?!💀💀
Me: yeah no, most of my friends back then were guys, girls didn't really like me
Coworker: Oh yeah, I mean you are very special tho
And I've been trying to figure out if that was a compliment or not
#like what are 'normal' girls wearing#i asked my brother and he was like 'yeah u don't wear skin tight things or mini skirts and stuff with a low neck line'#and I said 'am I?? supposed to wear that?? to the OFFICE??!?'#there has to be something obviously different about me dangling over my head that everyone sees except me??#why do people keep telling me im 'special'??#im not a seasonal burger at mcdonalds i'm not that special please😭😭💀💀#ramblings#not art
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— favorite poison (a teaser) ⟢
pairing: wonwoo x reader
summary: no strings attached sex is easy. catching feelings for a person you supposedly hate is hard. it's in times like this when wonwoo wishes he can set the dial on his life on easy mode forever, but everyone knows he's nothing if not stubbornly competitive.
word count 1.8k words
tags:��fuck buddies, not quite enemies to lovers, streamer!wonwoo, streamer!reader, attempt at humor, in denial!wonwoo, fluff, smut (in later scenes, although this teaser is a bit suggestive)
warnings: mentions of twitter porn, daddy kink, suggestive situations (minors dni!!), reader becomes visibly uncomfortable around one of the characters
notes: this is the sequel to underlying pretense! as with all my teasers so far, it's always the first scene that comes up in these posts HEH the title is based off fuller's song, favorite poison bc it just screams in denial wonwoo :')
“So when are you introducing me?”
The buzz of visitors inside the convention hall is already grating enough as it is, but when Mingyu walks over to Wonwoo’s designated booth, all it does is irritate him further.
He doesn’t exactly have to do anything aside from receive gifts from the viewers coming to pay him a visit, and take a few photos with them, but Wonwoo is yet to accustom himself to being the center of attraction in front of so many people. So having to listen to his roommate-slash-best friend asking him stupid questions isn’t exactly helping his case.
“To who? My family?” Wonwoo scoffs.
Mingyu rolls his eyes. “No. Your girlfriend, genius.”
“What the hell are you even talking about?”
His best friend pouts and Wonwoo is having a really tough time taking him seriously because Mingyu is wearing one of those hats with bunny ears that flop around if you press the buttons dangling from the front. “You’re always scampering off with some girl from time to time. The others haven’t noticed, but I’m your roommate, hyung.”
“What gave you the impression that I’m ‘scampering off’ with just one girl, though?” Wonwoo smirks, shaking his head.
Roughly three months have passed since Wonwoo bit the bullet and agreed to be your…fuck buddy? Not-so-friend with benefits? Whatever this arrangement is called, he’s satisfied with getting to let off steam every once in a while, and you don’t seem to have any complaints as long as he fucked you stupid and helped you make filthy content for all the world to see.
Honest to god, it’s a miracle how shit hasn’t hit the fan yet. But then again, you and Wonwoo were both careful and extremely selective about what gets posted on your secret Twitter porn account, and what stays tucked away in the hidden galleries in your phones. That sort of cautiousness is rewarded with having to get away with everything you’re both daring enough to pull off behind the scenes.
Still, it doesn’t change the fact that, outside his sexual relations with you, Twitch streamers everyone_woo and Koyahngi pretty much hate each other’s guts. Even if yours is the best fucking pussy he’s ever had (something you’ll never catch him dead admitting aloud), he’s not about to do a complete one-eighty degrees and treat you any differently in front of his friends and followers. You don’t seem to have any plans on doing that either.
Wonwoo hasn’t once brought you to their shared apartment, so he’s certain that Mingyu is basing all his hunches off pure intuition alone. And just because that intuition turns out to be somewhat right (PSA: you’re not his girlfriend), doesn’t mean Wonwoo has to come clean about his goings-on.
Besides, they’re at a fucking convention. Why is Mingyu trying to hotseat him now?
“Whatever you say, elusive gamer who hasn’t felt the touch of a woman that isn’t his mom.”
“Fuck you, you know that’s not true.”
“Well, obviously, you’re smitten with someone, and once I find out who it is, I’m throwing the biggest party in Seoul,” Mingyu says with a huff of indignance coloring his words. He says it like it’s a threat, and Wonwoo makes a face at him.
“Why?” he asks with a scowl.
“Because I love you, that’s why.” Mingyu then takes off the stupid hat and places it on top of Wonwoo’s head—even putting the work into making sure it fits and everything. “Anyway, I’m heading off to Koyahngi’s booth to say hi. You wanna come with or do you still have a stick up your ass when it comes to hanging out with her?”
Wonwoo has to keep himself from blurting out how he’s not the one with anything up his ass when it comes to you, but realizes that if he wants to get Mingyu off his back, he probably shouldn’t make traumatizing allusions to his sex life.
“I can’t exactly leave my spot until the main program starts. The same goes for you, idiot,” Wonwoo points out. “Who knows how many of your subscribers are looking for you at your booth? Go away and tend to them first.”
Mingyu pouts again, but since his best friend is a guy that’s literally a six-foot wall of muscle, Wonwoo doesn’t feel even an ounce of sympathy for him. “I haven’t even been gone for ten minutes! I just wanted to see how my friends are doing.”
“Then you shouldn’t have set up a booth at all, Gyu.”
“Hmph. You’re always so stingy, hyung.” Mingyu crosses his arms before turning on his heel. “Anyway, I’m heading over to Koyahngi’s. I heard she’s cosplaying Sage today. Not that you care though.”
He sounds so genuinely sulky that Wonwoo would’ve laughed a little as Mingyu stomps away to head to your booth. But the mention of you dressing up as a Valorant agent that Wonwoo has started to despise since meeting you makes a couple of memories from earlier this week resurface in his mind.
Aside from the catgirl gimmick, your cosplays are but another selling point for your streams. You dubbed it the catgirlification of every playable character I like right after Wonwoo railed you two days ago in that same Sage cosplay that Mingyu just mentioned.
What a fucking weirdo, Wonwoo mused for a second before blowing your back out again not five minutes later.
About an hour later, the program on the main stage was in full swing, and Wonwoo just finished doing a little segment with Soonyoung that one of the fans who won a raffle requested for them to do. It was a Pocky Game that got a little too intense because Soonyoung wouldn’t stop fucking squirming, and they nearly kissed in front of the entire audience. Wonwoo doesn’t entirely mind because PR is PR, after all.
The thing he does end up minding, though, comes a little later—after the convention hall settles into a more relaxed atmosphere and everyone is back to booth-hopping.
Despite what he told Mingyu earlier, Wonwoo took it upon himself to do some wandering around. It’s kind of nice to see other streamers and content creators he’s only ever got to interact with on Discord or their respective streams.
But while he’s munching on a cherry-shaped cookie that Seungcheol is handing out to his visitors, the bane of his existence swoops down on him just when he thought he could finish this entire event in peace.
“Hey, daddy,” you giggle into his ear before swiping the cookie out of his hands, tossing it into your mouth without a second thought. “Didn’t think I’d get to see you today.”
Wonwoo clicks his tongue before shrugging off the arm you draped around his shoulder. “What do you want?”
“Nothing in particular,” you hum before swallowing the food you just stole from him. “But now that I got a taste of Cheol’s cherry cookies, I kinda want some more. Do you know where he is?”
“I think I saw him flirting with a bunch of cosplayers near the stage.”
Wonwoo startles at the sound of a third party’s voice intruding in your conversation, and from the looks of it, you’re just as startled as he is. Turning around, though, his apprehension ebbs away when he recognizes who it is.
“Johnny,” he says with a small surprised smile before offering his hand for a casual shake. “It’s been a while.”
The famous streamer returns Wonwoo’s gesture gingerly, but he realizes that Johnny’s gaze isn’t trained on him at all.
“It has been,” he chuckles before turning to you. “I didn’t know you were friends with Wonwoo, doll. How you got someone as cold as he is to warm up to you is beyond me, but at least you’re expanding your network.”
Wonwoo would’ve rolled his eyes. Johnny is just as frank as he remembers. But before Wonwoo can point out that: 1.) you and him are not friends; and 2.) he is not a cold person, and therefore has absolutely no need to warm up to anyone, he quickly picks up on the sudden shift in the air. And it’s not his or Johnny’s discomfort he’s sensing right now.
“Nah, you’ve got the wrong idea,” you respond to Johnny casually, but Wonwoo doesn’t miss how your fists are clenched at your sides. “Wonwoo would rather get banned from Twitch than call me his friend. I just like pissing him off every now and again is all~ That, and his friends are pretty cool, so I need to tolerate him.”
Johnny laughs before reaching down to ruffle your carefully styled wig. To others, it would’ve looked like a display of casual affection between friends, but Wonwoo is keen enough to notice how you momentarily flinched from the older streamer’s touch. His brows knit together as he attempts to figure out what was going on.
Actually, how do you even know Johnny in the first place?
“Anyway, I’ll be going now,” he laughs before letting one eye drop into a wink. “It’s good to see both of you. Enjoy the rest of the convention, yeah?”
As Johnny makes his exit, you’re a little too quick to fill in the silence that he left.
“You’ve gotta take me to Cheol before he runs out of cookies,” you whine, tugging on his arm with a persistent look on his face—not even breathing a word about Johnny, as if it hasn’t been two minutes since he left. “I’m pretty sure I saw him wearing a Pikachu onesie, so he should be easy to—”
Wonwoo immediately cuts you off with a quick yank of your wrist. As he leads you to one of the unoccupied restrooms near the convention hall, your voice drones in annoyingly repetitive succession in his ears while you struggle to free yourself from his grip, but Wonwoo just won’t budge.
Not when he can’t get the sight of you with genuine fear in your gaze when you first laid your eyes on Johnny out of his head.
“Shit,” you whisper hoarsely the moment Wonwoo slams you against the door—a shit-eating grin resting haughtily on your lips as he nudges your thighs apart. “I knew you were possessive, but not this much. Johnny just gave me a few headpats, daddy. It doesn’t mean a thing.”
Yeah. Wonwoo is totally doing this out of some pathetic, alpha male need to stake his claim after another man got his grubby hands on you. Not because he was bothered by that look on your face, and can’t think of any other way to help get your mind off it aside from fucking you senseless in a public bathroom.
“Shut up,” he murmurs before forcing your cheek against the cold door. “Now take off your leggings before I tear a hole in it myself. Can’t mess up your perfect fucking Sage cosplay now, can we?”
You let out a noise caught between a sigh and a whimper as you do as you're told. From three months ago to now, your general opinion on Jeon Wonwoo as a dom has yet to change. Even if he was about to rail you with a fluffy bunny beanie still resting on top of his head.
He’s fucking perfect.
the full fic can now be found here!
#seventeen smut#seventeen fanfic#svt smut#svt fanfic#wonwoo smut#jeon wonwoo#seventeen wonwoo#wonwoo x reader#seventeen x reader#lovelyhan
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Too Tall Part Six
I missed my awkward space babies
||Part One||Part Two||Part Three||Part Four||Part Five||
Antolin held a hair tie in his teeth as he gathered his hair into a half-knot. His face was still pale, and his leg throbbed like hell, but he finally had the energy for an outing. Though, conscious to preserve that energy, he currently sat on the end of his bed, the wall mirror taken down and propped haphazardly in an open dresser drawer.
He turned his reflection from side to side as he ran his fingers through the top layer of tangles, scrutinizing the deep blue cross-wrap shirt from all angles. It had been a rather long time since he'd been on shore leave, so It had taken forever to find an outfit that wasn't a uniform or lounge clothes. The shirt's neck plunged a little low for comfort. It looked strange. Was that out of unfamiliarity or because it actually looked bad? He hadn't minded the look before, but now after several years of tight, high collars, he felt almost indecently exposed.
“You can’t be serious.”
Antolin briefly met Zae’s glaring eyes in the mirror. “What?" He took the hair tie in his hand and pulled the tail through two and a half times. "It’s just a walk.”
“You aren’t actually interested in that bloodmonger, are you?”
He picked up a hairpin with dangling blue glass beads and paused. Interested? Unai had been interesting since the moment she arrived on-station. But Zae was talking romantically, wasn't she? That was a much harder question. Antolin had always planned on having a relationship with another human--if his job ever gave him the time that was. Unai was about the furthest thing from a typical future that he could imagine. The culture, the planet...the height. Not bad...but complicated. Different. However, he had grown used to her presence. And the idea of going out to do something un-work related did make his heart speed a little fast. Not that any of that was enough to make sense of.
“I don’t know," he said. "Admittedly, it is a little strange. But I do like her. To what extent I’m still not sure. In any case, we're friends."
Zae frowned deeper, folding her long, slender arms. "She’s arrogant."
Antolin offered a half-shrug as he slid the pin into his bun. “She’s arrogant because she has a right to be. She does her job with a proficiency and vigor I’ve rarely seen.”
“Only because she’s trying to impress you. I swear, the rumors I've heard around the station since she's arrived. Does she have no shame?"
Rumors? He'd have to probe around about that once he was up and able again.
“I highly doubt she would have reached the rank of captain without a good work ethic.”
“Alright, but that doesn’t change that she's Ke'turian--an incredibly violent species. They take whatever they want by force. And you're human."
Antolin frowned at the implication. Did everyone see him as weak? He'd proven himself multiple times on the Zenith, enough times to get this position. Yet, sometimes, he had the impression that everyone was simply humoring him. His stripes held the threat of federal discipline, so they did as they were told. But they didn't actually respect him. Obviously whoever was letting in their enemies found him an easy target. And now Zae felt the need to fret over him as if he were a child. He even doubted his own abilities after that terrible fight with the Lasters.
But then there was Unai. She had said she'd battle alongside him. Surely a Ke'turian would know best about battle. It hadn't felt like a lie, even with her abrupt retreat after saying it.
He drew himself up in his seat. "I'm quite capable of defending myself against any threat. Ke'turians included." The cold tone clearly struck Zae because she immediately dropped her gaze. Satisfied, he allowed a little warmth back into his words as turned away from the mirror to face her head-on. "But I can hardly picture Captain Unai attacking me."
Zae remet his eyes, clearly unconvinced. "Be careful."
He rolled his eyes. "I will. Promise. Now," he grasped his crutch, shoving himself to his feet and limping a couple feet out from the bed. "How do I look?"
Zae sighed. "Like you think you're going on a date."
***
Unai's long stride had brought her to Hayes's door too quickly. She was at least 15 clicks too early. Knocking on the door now would be an embarrassment, another overeager display of her one-sided affections. That was...if they were one-sided. Because this was a date. Right? She'd at least intended it to be when she originally asked--or tried to ask. She wasn't certain what it was now that Hayes had taken ownership of the excursion.
Unai leaned back against the metal wall. She shouldn't ask. If Hayes hadn't intended anything by proposing a walk--which he probably hadn't--it would be uncomfortable to bring it up. Not to mention the recent gossip on the topic. She'd never been subtle, but it was a little ridiculous that her connection to Hayes was being so blown out of proportion now. She really hoped Hayes hadn't caught wind of any of it. She'd specifically left mention of it out of their conversations in case the bother affected his health or his opinion of her.
She checked her communicator's clock function. Still 13 clicks early. Maybe it was alright to be at least 5 clicks early. Punctuality was a virtue. So that only left 8 to go. Manageable.
She smoothed the front of her plain black tunic for probably the fifth time since putting it on. The collar settled comfortably just below her throat, only a little lower than that of her uniform, but the sleeveless nature of the garment had her a little uneasy. On Ke'tukar, bared arms to a potential mate were as obvious a signal for courtship as shouting it aloud; she doubted Hayes knew that, but it hadn't stopped her from wanting to do so anyway, just as her own personal declaration.
Another glance at her communicator. 5 more clicks. Well, maybe 10 clicks early would actually be fine.
Unai raised her hands to the door and hesitated. She'd been letting herself in these past weeks anyway. And Hayes didn't always hear the knock. Maybe she should simply enter as usual. That might even let Hayes know the stooping level of her expectations.
She pressed the door button, moving forward as the door slid open. And nearly ran into Lt. Zae in the process.
Unai backed up quickly as the Lieutenant's initial surprise faded, and she stepped into the hall, punching the door button back to closed as she did so.
"Captain." Her address was chilled as usual, and her silver eyes roamed up and down Unai's frame with an almost sick regard.
"Lieutenant," Unai returned through gritted teeth.
"Subtle are we?"
"Forgive me, Lieutenant, but I don't understand what you're implying."
Lt. Zae nodded at one of Unai's arms. "Ke'turian females woo the males by exposing their arms. A show of the strength you have to offer. I hope you are not expecting Commander Hayes to fall prey to such a spectacle."
Unai fought down the flutter of her collar and set her jaw.
"My clothing has no intention outside of its flattering fit, and even if it did, I don't see how it's any of your business."
Lt. Zae rose up to her full stringy height--a little higher than midchest--the already pinkish hue of her skin darkening with contempt. "Commander Hayes is my longtime colleague, commander, and friend. You expect me to be delighted at his dalliances with a Ke'turian military officer?"
Unai wished she could roar in the face of this disrespect. Bare her fangs, raise her collar, and challenge Lt. Zae to a combat of honor. But that would only upset Hayes and satisfy the Lieutenant's bad opinion of her. Instead, she let her fangs only show slightly. "Xersians and Ke'turians may have differing ideals, but I never knew a Xersian to be openly prejudiced toward an entire species."
"It's not the Ke'turian species trying to initiate courtship with Antolin. It is only one."
Unai knew it shouldn't matter, but that casual first name drop made her insides twinge. Lt. Zae really was on closer terms with Hayes. But that still did not excuse whatever she was being accused of. "Am I missing something, Lieutenant?"
"You Ke'turian’s are as aggressive when courting as you are when fighting. You expect me to trust a species that takes their mates by force?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Don't play innocent; I've read up on Ke'turian customs. Fighting other females to the death. Taking the males to husband--sometimes by physical force--without allowing any sort of choice. It's disgusting."
“What?” Unai cried, her collar flapping up irritatedly. “Maybe a few centuries ago! Where did you read that, a history book?"
"It was a modern study on various species' courting rituals."
"Written by who? A Xersian?"
"The libraries on Xersa have an extensive collection of research. All of which is heavily peer-reviewed and fact checked."
"Sounds like your libraries are trash, if that counts as heavily fact-checked. Ke'turian courtships are consensual. If I am denied, I will give up my pursuit entirely." It hurt to say aloud, like a rock sinking to the bottom of her stomach. But it was true. Her advances only went as far as Hayes accepted them. Maybe that was another reason she wasn't being totally forward. Once she received the official no, it was done. She'd rather bide her time in hopes of a one-day yes.
Lt. Zae blinked a few times. Taking in the offense and the claim all at once. Her face contorted from enraged, to considering, to flat. "I...will check a few more sources. However, my current trust remains nonexistent. If I hear of anything unsavory occurring on this 'walk', I will use my current commanding power to dismiss you from the station. Clear?"
"Perfectly," Unai growled. She maneuvered around the Xersian, pressing the door button with a large, intentional gesture. As it slid back, she stepped into Hayes' quarters without a second glance at the eyes piercing her back.
Hayes hastily pushed himself up on his crutch as she entered. "Captain Unai!"
"Commander!" she returned, nearly on choking the greeting. He wore a blue tunic-style shirt that cross-wrapped over his chest, but not before dipping just below his clavicle.
No. No. She was not going to be accused of ogling again.
Unai forced her gaze away from his elegant neck and the peeking portion of--despite his months in bed--a toned chest. She didn't know why she had expected him to be in uniform today. Maybe because besides the sleep clothing he wore in his quarters, she'd never seen him in anything else. He seemed like the type who would sleep in his uniform if it weren't for the discomfort and possible damage to the material.
It turned out averting her eyes from the outfit did nothing to save her. Haye's long, dark hair, fell in full curls over his shoulder, and the little tendrils that were too small to be pulled into his half bun framed his face in a messy, tousled sort of way. His eyes, as dark and deep as ever, studied her intensely.
She looked down at the floor before he could see the full extent of her admiration.
You mean attraction, she corrected internally. Who do you think you're kidding?
Well, if this wasn't a date, hopefully Hayes.
After a few moments, when no reproach or teasing remarks came, Unai forced her gaze back up. Hayes was still staring at her. Not the piercing, soul-exposing way he usually looked at her, but like...like he was caught up in a thought.
"Hayes?"
Hayes jolted and cleared his throat. "You, uh, look nice."
Unai mustered every bit of her strength to keep her collar pinned taughtly against her neck. "Thank you. So do you." She awkwardly extended her arm. "Shall we?"
Hayes limped forward and took gentle hold of the crook of her arm with his free hand. He smiled briefly up at her with what seemed like...nerves? No, it was probably just uneasiness about going out for the first time. His leg was probably pretty sore.
"So, Captain, what did you have planned?"
#alien x human#scifi#aliens#space#humans are weird#humans are space orcs#humans are space oddities#creative writing#writblr#writing snippet#writeblr#writing community#aliens and humans#writers of tumblr
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elaborate on your last post?
i've actually been marinating on this more or less nonstop! like how to phrase it and stuff. i have, like, notes.
& part of this is i had some spoilers as to who mickey WAS before i watched the show because he was what was dangled in front of my face like a pie in a window to get me to watch shameless. but the thing about mickey is like every thing you learn about him CAN absolutely be traced to his behavior in s1. mickey's one of the most consistently and unrelentingly himself characters in the show (the other is debbie). everyone else has like personality crises.
you can fit a shitload of development into someone like mickey being aggressively himself the whole time because he has every reason to be afraid of the consequences of his personality w/out actually being insecure or not knowing himself. so we as the viewer get to know him w/out any of the information being startling in any way from the jumpoff of s1. it's insane that i'm pretty sure he was meant to only exist in season one i just know he'd be haunting some psyches.
he like never apologizes for his personality. which is i think easy to attribute to "confidence" as a sort of nebulous concept but i think he's just kind of a realist. everything he hides has a very straightforward reason behind it and when the reason disappears so does his hesitance to just be that. & i think a lot of what reads as confidence comes from disinterest in other people's opinions & a pretty intense pragmatism and get-shit-done-ism. mickey kind of sorts people into "who gives a fuck" or "useful" & eventually he expands his "people who matter" category enough that even people he doesnt gaf about in the main cast he at least doesn't want to piss them off.
another thing about this is i've seen sometimes people who over-relate (very understandably) to mickey sort of take very seriously how much he must've been hurt in end of s5, end of s7. which is. i mean i will be honest i KNEW it was coming and watching love songs in the key of gallagher RUINED MY WEEK. which is a good thing. because i am out of my mind. but i think sticking on "well, ian should've been more sorry, or said something nicer later" out of feeling bad for mickey misses a little the point where what i really see in mickey is a "it hurt. obviously. extremely badly. fucking anyway" sort of angle.
this ^ isn't something i know how to explain very well. there's kind of a difference between going "well that was horrifying and i need to throw the fuck up" and moving on, and the sort of therapy-speak adjacent urge to linger over how everyone should be looking at their feelings about it. not mickey's language IMO. so mickey's pretty in tune with what's going on in ian's head so when ian hurts his feelings on purpose he's like mad that it worked, you stupid jackass. and then ian's guilt is sitting right there and he's like well you were so mean but it's more important to me that i can be around you than that my feewings are made much of. mickey's pretty steadily uncomfortable with touchy-feely validation or anything. this interpretation is also a me thing. obviously everyone's reads are going to be informed by their life experience but this is what makes sense to me.
1 of the biggest things i've noticed rewatching is how FAST plotlines start moving when mickey decides he's getting something done. which is interesting because he's also one of the least ambitious characters in the show.
mandy and ian both really believe they can get something nicer and safer and better (&fancier) out of life. mandy has the strongest drive out of them to grab something nice for herself (like.. even vicariously through lip, she's always trying) mickey is kind of right that it's not realistic for everyone to get something better than where they grew up. it's depressing as fuck to be resigned to but especially with a criminal record it's pretty predictable under capitalism that you would just get stuck. these things happen to people
it's very sweet to me that ian keeps dragging mickey along to like nice places and optimism while mickey is like be so for fucking real. weird enough this is the most mickey has in common with lip - the "steal it or scam it" observation that lip makes, but mickey is chill with breaking more serious laws and being arrested for it. & lip also doesn't go for ambition the same way other people in the show do because he has noticed these patterns. he aims for a nebulous "more" jump up in the class system ONCE specifically because of mandy.
fiona is the opposite to all this ^ naturally. in the way that her ambition keeps coming back to bite her way harder than anyone else, because she gets caught up in her ideas of how to expand and do better and bigger really fast. funny enough both lip's "well it has to be a scam and you can't ever actually get anywhere" and fiona's "i bet if i just played my cards right i could make a million bucks rn" philosophies are frank traits.
BUT ANYWAY i also really like how mickey's pragmatism sort of lands him to being a very romantic person. because once he has reason to care more about someone else he decides to put all his eggs in that fucking basket. contrast -> ian is A Romantic. he wants to believe in like a soulmate and he pretty obsessively pursues validation through means of romance. m/while mickey never plans to be in a relationship and commits really hard when he decides that that's where he's going.
which comes to mickey's impressive skills at reading people. when he's not just completely disinterested, he can predict people really well. which is obviously like a survival technique but is also the only explanation of why he'd come back twice after getting written out. maybe it wasn't supposed to be the way his character played out but it can be traced back to s1 with the information we have and is the only way that his actions make sense.
& in like. the completely fucking insane way that mickey is as gentle as he is. you even see the intent here in his introduction. sure, he's showing up in a violent way to enact revenge. which being into prison abolition i don't necessarily agree with. but it's sweet! like, i know the revenge mob is kind of a THING but with everything that he does following it also seems very personal. so he shows up and the first thing he really wants is someone to look after. ian gallagher you may not believe you need a fucking caretaker but you literally snatched up the single person most desperate for someone to take care of
-> wrt gentleness also: i cant get over how fucking bonkers it is to be a violent teenager having a Massive mental breakdown and that mickey refuses to start the physical side of the "you love me and you're gay" confrontation. not a hand until ian shoves him multiple times. even though ian showed up explicitly as an attempt at using mickey to punish himself for something he really thought was his fault! what the fuck!!
um but anyway with mickey's fucking anger going on also i was personally very touched by him as a fantastic way to represent irritability and anger as an anxiety response. because anger is really fucking like that. again, visible from his intro to the end. ya habibi...
#Anonymous#i feel like this goes on like a thousand tangents. well i lost sleep thinking about Him so this is what you get.#mickey
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Cryptic Cupid - Part 4 (Robin's POV)
Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 5
Sequel to Raspberry Riddle
So this is set in a government-operated hospital after the events of season 4 but everyone is alive
Each part has a different POV, Robin, Steve, or Eddie.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
When Robin finally landed home, her hands still laden with gifts, she was all set to make a beeline to the fridge for a good old-fashioned American soda, but as she stepped through the door, something caught her eye, or rather the sole of her shoe. She opened and read the handwritten letter waiting for her on the doormat and rushed to dial the number.
"Hey, I er just got back. Is everything ok? Are you going over there?"
"Hey sweetheart, yeah, was just wonderin' if you wanted a ride over?" Wayne's voice sounds out over the line. His voice wasn't usually raging rapids of excitement, it was very much a lazy river, but today it had lost its usual soothing quality, "We're usually there at the same times. It'll save you a bit of cash, and selfishly, we won't worry so much about you travellin’ back alone."
Robin tries to lift the mood with her own pep, "That would be amazing, thank you. See you in twenty?" She enthuses and quickly runs to get changed out of her travel clothes and waits for Wayne to arrive.
He's there precisely on time, but unlike Steve, he doesn't wait in the car. Instead, Wayne knocks on the door and introduces himself to her Mom, explaining, "I know I sure wouldn't like some ol' guy picking up my kid randomly."
"We've heard all about you. We're happy to hear Eddie is finally on the mend." Robin’s mom says kindly.
Wayne nods with a smile of appreciation, "Speakin' o' which, we better get going before he notices the time" Wayne laughs, but Robin notices the laugh is one you reserve for bad jokes that you don't want to laugh at, but you do to make everyone at ease.
Once they get in the car and buckle in, Robin is straight on the case, "Ok, so what’s been happened since I've been gone?"
"You want the good news or bad news first?" Wayne offers her a choice.
"Good first, please. I'm already dangling treacherously over a pit of dread right now. At least let me clamber out a little." Robin says without thinking, it must be something to do with sitting in the passenger seat that brings out her inner drama queen.
"I'm sorry, sugar. I didn’ wanna dump this on you. I just…I wanted it to come from me in a safe environment rather than you getting blindsided by it, is all. Eddie can be a force to be reckoned with when he's like this." Wayne sighs remorsefully.
"What happened to Eddie? Is he ok? Did he come back differently?" A million scenarios run through Robin's head. She liked and cared about Eddie, obviously. She wanted him to be well, but her insides were constricting at the thought that the unstoppable force of this potentially unpleasant Eddie had already destroyed Steve.
"Good news first, right?" Wayne's fingers release and then wrap back around the steering wheel. "Steve is learnin’ new things, I won’t steal his thunder by tellin’ you before he can, though, and he’s still looking after himself well. Eddie's getting stronger. He can walk and talk great now. ‘Cept he stubbornly refuses to do much of either dependin’ on his mood."
"Is that the bad news?" Robin asked hopefully.
"Partially. He got to a mirror before the Psychologist wanted him to. She had more work to do with him first, she said. She obviously knew what she was talkin' about. The rest of us were completely blind to it because we were just so glad he was alive and back with us, you know? What was a scar on his face, right? Nothin’." Wayne sighs, "Steve tried to tell him as much. That no one was gonna care about a scar, but Eddie did care ‘bout it, and he, unfortunately, directed all his frustration with his face at Steve and the nurse there at the time. Just verbally, but you know words can be just as brutal."
Robin sat quietly for a while. She had felt the same. Happy that Eddie was back, so what the hell did a mark on his face matter? But this wasn't really about them. They'd all looked over it. This was about how the world saw Eddie, and now the superficial people of the world had another thing to throw at him.
"Steve tried his best, Robin, but Eddie has dug his boots in. Steve doesn't need to go through that every day, I told him as much, but he won't go on home. I love Eddie with every fibre of my being, but he's grindin’ Steve down…But I think Steve is gonna feel a lot better now you're back, and if you wanna visit him, and I'm not working, and I shouldn't be for most of the visiting hours now, just call me, ok? Steve could really do with a friend around now. I always pop my head in to check in on him, but Steve only wants to talk about Eddie, and that gets Eddie pissed at me. So…" Wayne trails off rather than repeating himself.
Robin wonders how much Wayne knows about the Steve and Eddie situation and then, in turn, wonders if that's why this has blown up so big.
"How long since he looked in the mirror?" She asks tentatively.
"’bout a week", Wayne answers solemnly, then taps the wheel a few times, "but don't worry about Eddie, ok? I got that covered. He'll cave into the band visiting again soon enough. They've got some pact or something the little one is always ranting about under the door. It's Steve that needs his people. 'cept he won't ask for it o' course, the kids came by, but I think he puts up a front for them. Bless that boy.” Wayne half smiles as he focuses on the road ahead. “Where are his folks? Around town, I hear nothing but good things, but I seen nothing of ‘em." Wayne takes a breath, "Sorry, Robin. I don't normally talk this much, Just I been sitting mostly in silence for about a week. I don't know how well you know Eddie, but it ain't what I'm used to. I'm usually tired of talkin’ or bein’ talked at, you know?"
Robin smiles and pats him on the shoulder, "Don't worry, I get it. I’ll speak to Steve, but I doubt he'll want to leave. His parents, I wouldn't hold your breath about them showing up. They're hardly around for Steve at all and haven't been for years." She scowls, thinking about them.
"They got a good kid like that, and they don't spend time with him? He'll be gone before they know it." Wayne says with confusion. That last part Robin knows rings deep in Wayne's heart. That's why he's here every day.
"It's always obvious to everyone else who bothers to get to know them, isn't it?" Robin says with a fond smile.
"What's that now?" Wayne asks.
"How good souled they both are? They couldn't look more worlds apart and have different childhoods, yet there is something so intrinsically the same about Steve and Eddie. The way they take care of people, how they both can't see how wonderful they are, how they can talk for hours about the things they care about and most importantly, what a pair of dinguses they can be."
Wayne laughs out loud at that, "Dinguses? Now that's a new one on me, but I think I understand it from your tone."
“When you said Eddie is grinding Steve down, what do you mean? Are they arguing every day?” Robin wants to assess the situation she’ll be walking into before she gets there. Then, arm herself with the right things. Eddie being an asshole daily to Steve was a lot different to a hurt Eddie lashing out once.
Wayne looks forlornly at the approaching building, “No, it's not that. The boy just doesn't want to see or speak to him, and all that kid wants to do is apologise to Eddie. I tried tellin’ him all week. He ain’t got nothin’ to apologise for. It's Eddie that needs to apologise, an’ he will. He…um…he’s feelin’ self-conscious, is all. Talkin’ to people means them lookin’ at him, and he’s just equatin’ that to all sorts of nonsense right now.” Wayne sighs, “The shrink has made a lot of progress with him, and I’m followin’ her lead on it all. Eddie knows he did wrong, Robin. He just doesn't want to…actually no, that's not true, he does want to, but he feels like he shouldn't be around Steve.” Wayne huffs, “Prob’ly not explain’ myself too well.”
Robin wonders if Wayne does know about Eddie and Steve’s little crush on one another, but he doesn't know if she does, so he’s skating around the issue.
Robin and Wayne step out of the card, get their IDs checked, and get scanned and searched before being allowed in.
As they approach the hallway, Robin hands Wayne two gift bags, "For you and Eddie" She smiles.
"Well, thank you kindly, Ms Buckley" Wayne smiles as they turn into the corridor.
Robin is about to smile back when the scene before her breaks her heart. She can see Steve sitting on the floor in Eddie's doorway with his back to her, leaning against the closed door. His head occasionally moves like he's talking.
Then he must hear the echo of their footsteps down the hall, and he turns and quickly springs into action, "Robin!!!" He runs up, throws his arms around her, squeezing her tightly and spinning her around, "I thought you weren't coming until tomorrow? God, I'm so glad you're here" he embraces her again. Wayne tips his hat to them both before opening Eddie's door.
"It's just me, son. You're ok. Settle down now," Wayne says gently before locking the door behind him.
Steve pulls her into his room, a massive smile on his face and pulls her up a chair, "Tell me all about your holiday!" He says enthusiastically, but Robin can tell whilst he's pleased to see her his smile isn't entirely genuine.
“My holiday was unforgettable! Chamonix is gorgeous. There is a river that runs right through it that comes down from the glaciers, and if you stand on this bridge, there is this ice-cold breeze that comes off it. Once you are out of here and we’ve got better jobs, we have to go. You will love it there. It's beautiful and so many sports and the food, my god!” She smiles and hands him a little gift bag that he starts to open immediately, intermittently looking up and beaming at her like he can’t believe she’s here, “And speaking of beautiful things, how is love’s young dream going? It doesn't look good by the doorway scene I just stumbled into.” she says with an awkward half-smile.
Steve pulls out the t-shirt and holds it up. It's bright white, with neon bubble lettering on it saying, My Girlfriend went to France, and all I got was this crummy t-shirt! And the silhouette of the mountains.
“We don't need to talk about that. You just got back, Rob. Tell me about the rest of your time there. Did you ski? Was it terrifying? How many croissants did you eat? Did you try frog legs? Is that even a real thing?” Steve machine guns her with questions, but Robin can see it is a vain attempt not to talk about something potentially upsetting. A facade like Wayne had said. Robin puts the t-shirt to one side, holds one of Steve’s hands between two of her own, and scoots the chair closer to him.
She looks over his face, and eventually, he meets her eyes, and she says softly, “Hey, you don’t have to do that with me, ok? We don’t do that. I don’t need to talk right now. I want to listen” and his whole body sinks slightly with a sigh as it made him smaller somehow.
“Oh, Rob, I really messed up” He looks awkwardly at her shaking his head and then casts his eyes to the floor in shame. Robin quickly rushes to move her chair again, drapes her arm around him, and hugs him into her side.
“I’m sure you haven’t messed anything up. What could have possibly gone wrong?” Steve fills her in on everything that’s happened since she’s been away.
“You should have seen his face. It looked so mad, but his eyes looked so hurt. I didn’t even think about it. I didn’t know he hadn’t seen himself, and you know, even if he had, he’s still just as beautiful, right?” Steve says in a voice close to shattering him completely, and when he calls Eddie beautiful, Robin’s heart sinks for him. “But he was right, Rob. I thought about it. I would feel like he did, and I tried to tell him that every day at the door, but he won't speak to me or look at me. I mean, it would be better than nothing if he just opened the door and yelled at me.” Steve looks down at the floor, running his fingers through his hair, “It’s almost worse than when we were waiting for him to wake up. One of the nurses caved and told me, it's not just me, though. He’s totally shut down in there. Hardly eating keeps the room in darkness. Wayne brought his guitar for him to play, but he hasn't even touched it. I would have heard it. He’ll only let Wayne or the staff in, but he’s not really speaking to them either.”
Robin examines Steve with her eyes. Wayne was right. He had been ground down to pieces of himself by this incident, “Oh Steve,” her words doused in sympathy, “Maybe it’s time to go home, huh? They must have enough data by now, and they can send someone to do the tests if they need to, right? At least at home, you know, you’ll have other things to do, other people to see, a TV and a radio” That gets a small smile from him, “You don’t need to stay here, ok?”
Steve looks at the door to his room, then back at Robin, “I know I don’t need to. I…um…” Steve pinches the bridge of his nose and runs his hand down his face, “Can I show you something?” Robin nods and waits.
Steve gets up from his chair and retrieves a book. It's about sign language. “When we argued, Eddie shoved this book at the nurse, who didn’t know whose book it was, but I did. It was Carol’s, the other nurse. Eddie signed at me one day. I didn't know what it meant, so I asked her. It was, thank you.” Steve signs at Robin, then the corners of steves mouth tug down as he tries to keep talking, “I asked if she had a book on it I could borrow so that I could communicate with Eddie more, and she said she didn't know where it was. She lied because Eddie had it.”
“Is Eddie losing his hearing?!” Robin exclaims in worry.
“No, Rob”, Steve lets the tears go, “I am. He’s been learning it for me. He must have known they'd asked me about learning, and I said I didn't want to. You know how smart he is, he must have thought I wouldn't learn it for me, but I would learn it for him.” Steve slumps back down in his chair and takes a deep breath wiping his eyes, “Open it.”
Robin takes the book at opens it, where it naturally falls because of the bookmark. First, she sees the signs for Sleep and Eat, then she notices the bookmark and takes it gently between her fingers holding it up, “Is this….” She starts, and Steve nods.
“He kept it this whole time, a whole year almost.” Steve looks at the little handmade scroll. “You know it took me ages to make that stupid thing. First, my fat fingers kept getting the matches stuck in the wrong places or to myself, and then then I tried to use a fancy calligraphy pen but got ink everywhere. I almost gave up a hundred times every time something went wrong, but then I kept thinking about how he might smile at it, solve it and jump over the ice cream counter at me.” Steve smiles fondly at the little scroll and nervously plays with his fingers. “And then I found this, and I felt like I’m so glad I didn't give up on it, you know? That I didn’t throw the towel in because I kept getting it wrong because, in the end, he really liked it, Rob. He liked it enough to keep it with him all through everything. Carol said it was one of the first things he asked for.” Robin looks closer at the scroll, seeing watermarks and dirt, “So I know I don't have to stay, and I know it’s hard here right now, but I want to stay. I just don't know what to do.” Steve takes the book back from her and places the scroll back in carefully before putting it on his bed.
Robin tries to put herself in Eddie’s shoes and piece together all the information from Steve and Wayne. Clearly, Eddie was feeling some way about how he looked. He’d see Wayne and the staff but no one else. He obviously liked Steve very much, but from what Steve said, he seemed nervous about making a move, waiting for Steve to take the next step. Wayne had said that Eddie would apologise, meaning that Eddie knows he’s messed up. Robin’s eyes move to the book again, “What about if you wrote to him?”
“What like a letter?” Steve looks a little confused.
“Hmmm, maybe, but I was thinking more like the little scroll, the riddles. The worst he can do is not reply right. It's no different from now. And…er...maybe-maybe, yeah, maybe I could make you a new tape, huh?”
“Yeah, now you bring it up, Robin, that tape….” Steve playfully grimaces at her.
“Nearly got you two kisses? You’re welcome, Dingus” Robin would never admit to Steve, well at least not sober, that the tape in question was very close to her heart. It was Robin’s falling in love tape. Just a list of songs where the music and lyrics served as high-octane fuel to the race car of infatuation. From past car discussions where Steve has been happily singing along to something, and Robin has had to tell him the horrifying backstory of the song, she knew Steve would not pick up on the lyrics, but she suspected that Eddie would. It was sneaky and underhanded, but it was clear to her from a year ago how they felt about one another. All Robin had done to their dancing around one another was change the music in the hope it might get them to meet in the middle finally.
“Uh, no! That was all me, thank you.” Steve smiles, genuinely getting caught up in their little back-and-forth argument.
Robin raises her eyebrows at him in an are you sure about that kind of way, and Steve finally laughs. She gives him another big squeeze and kisses him on the cheek, “It’s gonna be ok.”
Steve nods and gives a slight smile before moving on to his following query, “Did you come here with Wayne today?”
“Yeah, he gave me a ride, said it makes sense, seeing as we are both here the most.” Robin thinks for a minute. If Steve had information that might help Robin, he’d tell her, right? He wouldn’t hide it. “He was worried about you, you know. He said Eddie was grinding you down.”
“He was?” Steve looks at Robin with earnest surprise and then gives a half-smile, “I guess I wasn't hiding it very well. Did he say anything else?”
"Before I say anything else, are you sure about Eddie? I mean Wayne said he pretty mean to you both, and there are plenty more guys out there that aren't so…er…vicious" Robin knew Eddie was very hurt at the time, lashed out verbally, and ultimately knew he'd done wrong, but that didn't take away the fact he'd really upset Steve.
Steve huffs out a small laugh, "I agree he did want to hurt with those words, but I'm not upset because of that. I mean even when he was trying to insult me, he complimented me."
"Wait really?" Robin tries not to laugh at the thought of a red in the face enraged Eddie showering Steve with compliments.
"Yeah, he called me pretty boy!" Steve smiles fondly, "The only reason I'm ground down and upset is because I miss him. I miss being his entertainment, acting a fool to make him smile or laugh, you know?"
Robin bursts out laughing, "You have no idea how much Eddie is gonna love the fact that a previous King of High School misses being his own personal jester"
Steve laughs along with her his eyebrows raised in surprise and happiness, "I'm just as shocked as you. It was just nice, and I miss it. That's why I sit in his doorway everyday and talk to him. I just wanna hear him laugh again" Steve's smile drops a little, "I shouldn't have said it didn't matter. It clearly mattered to him."
"Wayne told me, Eddie knows what he did was wrong. He's also certain Eddie is working his way to an apology, but it sounds like he's a little stubborn, so it's a slow process" Robin rubs her hand on Steve's back in a soothing circle, "If it's any consolation, he's not let the band in either, and you know how special they are to him too."
Steve nods a few times with a small smile. Then suddenly his eyes go wide, and he clicks his fingers next to his head, "That's it!"
"That's what?" Robin says a little taken aback from the change in posture and attitude.
"You were talking about the band, and that made me think about music, and Music brought him back to me once. Maybe it can bring him back again, but I am going to need your mix tape master help. Please?" Steve clasps his hands together like he's in prayer and waits for her response.
"Sure! What do you need?" She replies enthusiastically.
#steddie#steddie fanfiction#steddie fan fiction#steddie fanfic#steddie fic#steddie fan fic#madaboutmunson#madaboutmunsoncrypticcupid#eddie munson#steve harrington
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So, I thought I would see if I can chat with some of y'all and possibly make myself feel a bit less weird.
I have been a whump fan since the late 90's, and it has only been in the last few years that I have discovered online communities surrounding whump, which gave me language to describe something that I didn't know how to articulate before. I learned what whump was (though I hadn't heard "whumperflies" until I got here) through fanfiction a long time ago, but I was always kinda embarrassed that I liked this so much, so I never talked about it, just quietly enjoyed it. So, since I never really have before, I thought I would see if anyone can relate to this stuff.
I have noticed that there are very specific conditions that must be met for whumperflies to show themselves in my case.
Note: As seems to be wonderfully common in this community, I am ace and neurodivergent; we do tend to gather in creative spaces. ❤️❤️❤️ I will be speaking about myself and my brain as two separate entities because... honestly, we are. I have no control over what it does, and I am frequently in a John Mulaney state of, "I also don't want me to be doing what I am doing."
1. The most annoying aspect for me is that characters that give me whumperflies are generally limited to one per series. There is one character that my brain likes to see, and it picks them without my permission. Obviously, these are not the only characters I am interested in, and a lot of the time, not even my favorite character in the series/ movie. I don't know if this is common.
2. The next one is pretty weird, in my opinion. I think some of my preferences when it comes to whump are to do with my neurodivergence. I am autistic and have ADHD, so all of my interests tend to be highly specified. One of the things that I find that gives me whumperflies is the limpness of certain aspects of a character. The weight of an arm, hand, or wrist... or how a character is draped across something or someone. Obviously unconsciousness is a large aspect of the whumps, but it can also be a character who has lost the strength or energy to move. Hands being limp in a restraint, a head tilted far to the side or to the back, or legs dangling when being picked up.
3. Context matters a lot to whether or not I get whumperflies from something. My favorite trope is a character's friends, family, or even acquaintances, seeing the whump happen. I think it is an innate desire for characters to see someone in a different light or situation than normal. A normally strong character in a situation they can't escape, or a weak character showing a strength that maybe even they didn't realize they had. The reason I think the dichotomy is the reason I enjoy this is because, while I don't get wumperflies from it, a character absolutely wrecking shop in a situation that others had no idea they could handle is also one of my favorite things.
4. There is a pretty tight limit on the intensity of the whump I enjoy. I don't like when things stray toward torture- porn (no judgment for people whose thing that is, though. Everyone has their own tastes, and these are all fictional characters). In very mild defiance of the previous point, I especially don't appreciate humiliation the way I know a lot of people do. Perhaps the character themselves might find something humiliating, but I can't handle a lot of groveling/ begging or whatever. I think there is a certain weird neatness that my autistic brain requires; not that I need a character to be all clean or whatever after/ during the whump. I dunno why my brain puts that particular limit on (maybe it's an esthetic thing?)
Doing the ND thing and analyzing the absolute shit out of my own brain, I feel like it could also be that I experience enough personally perceived humiliation in my daily life that I don't appreciate it much. (I'm sure a lot of people can relate to the forever struggle and anxiety of unregulated masking. XD I am trying to mask less, but I am 34 and just got my diagnosis last December, I don't have a lot of faith that it will get much better than it is, lol).
4. I don't really get whumperflies from anything other than videos. I think that has to do with context, where my brain needs to see the scene play out before it deigns to distribute the elusive whumperflies. (Can you tell my brain and I don't super get along? It's so stingy) Don't get me wrong, whump in gifs and writings are still my favorite things; obviously... I write whump. But no actual whumperflies from any of that.
5. I definitely appreciate animated whump more than live action whump (though, like with the non- video mediums, it is often still my favorite part of a live action show or movie). I think it is just because I don't appreciate real- life pain for anyone, and for me personally, live action stuff is just a little bit closer to that than animation.
6. As pointed out above. I am ADHD and autistic so sensory things are both my best friend and worst enemy; particularly sound. So a VA who can really get into the visceral and intense noises and screaming of whump are definitely preferred. Granted, belting is my favorite kind of singing, so I think I also just love hearing voices pushed to their limits.
7. Restraint is a big one for me, as it seems to be for a lot of people. Chains, ropes, gags, whatever. Whump is not a kink for me personally, but I still really appreciate it.
8. Mind control is another one, though I think it might be a bit more... whump adjacent. I guess it probably qualifies as emotional whump, though. I have written a few fics involving that. No whumperflies for the most part, but a type of whump I really like.
9. I like whump in moderation. Like said, the brain generally picks a single character from each show/ story/ movie, and that's the one I latch onto. But there needs to be a limit to how many situations they wind up in. I think it's because I want that contrast; a capable or strong character who is placed in a situation where that is taken away. But too much, and I lose interest. I don't really have a hard line for what is and isn't too much for one piece of media, but there is a point where my brain is like, "Oh, this again? Nah." Most media doesn't have enough whump for my tastes, but there are a few that have too much. Especially if the one being whumped excessively isn't the specific one my stubborn brain has picked out. I don't particularly like excess even to the one picked by my brain, but you get what I am saying.
Reading back through these and being annoyingly analytical as I am, it seems that there is much to do with both the subversion of control and a desire for stark contrast within and between characters when it comes to what I like within the subgenre of whump.
It's been surreal writing all of this. I never told ANYONE about this enjoyment of mine until just two years ago when I talked to my husband about it. And I only told him because I had discovered this community and been like, "People talk openly about this? I'll give that a try!"
I hope this hasn't made me sound pretentious or judgemental. I genuinely love the diversity in the type of whump that I see and that other people enjoy. It makes me feel that my weirdness is welcomed and I am in good company.
Considering all the fine print I have shared, I feel like this would make it seem like I don't actually like whump, but it genuinely is my absolute favorite thing. Or, maybe limitations like these are super common.
I have been a lover of whump since the early 2000's, and until I found this community, I really didn't have the language to articulate what it is I enjoyed so much. I've seen a lot of people asking about feelings of embarrassment when it comes to liking whump, and to be perfectly honest, that is how I have felt most of my life. But I am trying to be more accepting of myself and learn that there is nothing wrong with enjoying this kind of thing. Obviously, a lot of people do because it is a pretty essential part of most action media, lol.
I would love to hear about you guys' preferences, and if any of this resonated with you. I would love to start doing some gifs and stuff from older anime cause I am willing to bet that my love of whump comes from one of the first animes I ever watched. I have some older stuff on my shelf (I would call them classics, but I'm not sure if anyone else would lol), as well as a couple of things that I have only ever heard people here talk about once.
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the fact that Y/N has post natal depression Is somewhat refreshing idk I just don't see it talked about much on here and if it is it's like Hella angsty and the partner doesn't understand what it is but I was wondering if u could touch on it a bit more cause it's something I'm really scared about happening to me and I just want harry to hold me and tell me it's going be okay 😚😚😚😚
P.s. if u don't wanna it's understandable
anon: can u write about harry helping y/n through her ppd maybe like the 3rd time was so bad that h decide that he won’t be having more children
so this was requested twice so i would love to be able to write this for you both, hope this is okay - mind it’s heavily angsty!;
tw: vomiting, ppd and od
oli - 4, felix - 3, belle - 12 weeks
Motherhood was really fucking hard.
The birth of your newly born daughter, Isabella, had really taken a back pedal on your mental health. You had suffered with post natal depression after the birth of your two sons, but nothing as bad as this.
It had hit you around the 7 week mark after giving birth. The pregnancy itself was okay, even though she was slightly premature, but it was after you’d taken her home that it’d all spiralled downhill. It started with complications with her breastfeeding - like she was rejecting the milk that you had produced. It hurt to see her reject you and your body, finding more comfort in drinking from a pre-made milk bottle as her dad rocked her to sleep. You recall the evening so clearly and felt like an utter failure as you watched her drink a bottle of formula for the first time.
“Ssh ssh,” Harry cooed to your 7 week old daughter as he rocked her in his arms on the rocking chair in her nursery. She was whining because she was hungry, but the problem was that she wasn’t accepting your milk. She hadn’t been accepting your milk all day and now it was becoming dangerous for you to keep on saying ‘Oh i’ll just try later.’ Harry had told you to make a formula bottle for her. “Mummy’s coming.”
As much as you didn’t want to, you were walking back to the nursery with a warm bottle in your hands. You’d tested it on your hand to make sure it wasn’t too hot and then taken a sip to taste it, out of jealousy, and you thought that it didn’t taste any different to you. Then again you’re not a 7 week old human whose only date is milk.
“Look here’s mummy with your yummy milk, okay? Look Belles!” Harry cooed at his darling angel and you only wished he wasn’t as happy for her as he was.
“Yeah.” You spoke softly, handing him the bottle and standing nearby, part of you hoping that she would reject this too and she wasn’t just rejecting you.
But no, she drank the formula like it was her last meal.
“Such a sweet girl, aren’t you?” Harry praised her, watching her in awe as she kept on drinking the formula. Watching as she was drinking to become the strong girl you knew she’d become. It just hurt that it wasn’t you that could help her become that.
You felt powerless. Worthless, even. The one thing that you had carried the weight of your breasts around to do and you couldn’t even do it. Your nipples were so sore and your breasts ached so badly and it was all for nothing. Perhaps it was punishment for being such a bad mum. Perhaps you’d never been good enough for this job and it was your bodies way of shutting you down forever. You wouldn’t need the ability to produce milk anymore, because you weren’t worth the title of becoming one again. You wanted to be happy for your little one, seeing her happy but all you felt was rejection and sadness. She didn’t think you were good enough to be her mum and that really hurt.
Along with the breastmilk problem, Belle also became very stubborn when you wanted to change her nappy. Anytime you tried to change and help her she put up a fuss, kicking her legs and sometimes she would bite or hit you away. It was just a reminder that you weren’t a good enough mum for her and that she didn’t feel safe enough around you. She didn’t find comfort in your presence and she was so fussy about what you did around her. With Harry, though, she was an angel. She loved him so much and obviously he made her feel so loved and safe - something you’d clearly never be able to give her.
There was also the chores of being a mother to your other two sons too. Oli and Felix were old enough to understand that they had a baby sister, but they weren’t old enough to understand how miserable you were. Harry wasn’t even able to figure it out yet. You tried your best to put on your bravest face, knowing that your family needed you to be strong but the truth was that you were crumbling on the inside. You were feeling less and less like yourself and you were waiting for the moment when you’d completely fall apart. Nothing felt right anymore. Everything was just numb.
“You two boys okay?”
You walked into the children’s playroom see that they were sat at the little table colouring in. Felix’s little legs dangled slightly, whereas Oli’s legs touched the floor and it made your heart swell at how big they were both getting.
“Yep!” Oli cheered, scribbling with his left hand as his tiny tongue stuck out from his lips as he concentrated - a habit passed onto him from his father.
“What are you both drawing?” You asked, coming over and kneeling on the floor beside them and having a peek at their drawings.
“We’re colouring for daddy.” Felix answered, some of the words not being pronounced properly due to his young lisp and lack of being taught how to say things correctly yet.
His words stung though. You appreciated that he was only a toddler and he meant nothing evil or malicious by it, but it hurt to think that maybe, just maybe, your sons were doing this for their dad because he did so much more for them than you did. Of course you tried to be the best mum you could, but maybe you weren’t doing enough. Maybe you weren’t meant to be a mum after all, or at least not a good one.
“O-oh,” you tried to hold back the tears in your eyes because your boys looked so proud at their artwork - and you should be too. “Tell me about them then, my loves.”
Oli went first, “So this is me and this is Oli and this is dad. It’s us playing football like we did the other day, mummy.” He pointed out to each of the figures, some looking actually quite terrifying but you’d never have the heart to tell him that. The figures were all holding hands though and it hurt to think that you weren’t a part of that.
“Oh that’s so good Ols!” you rubbed his head of hair and then turned to Felix’s, “What about you Fix?”
“I drew daddy as the best.” He pointed to a trophy that the figure - more like a stick-man-slenderman - was holding, which was decorated with the award of ‘my hero’.
“I told him to write hero, mummy.” Oli added, and you smiled at both of them.
“Well done. Good job both of you. Daddy will love these!” You only wished that they would draw something for you. You hated to think that you were being petty, but honestly you just wanted to feel loved. “Shall I go cut up some apple for a snack, hey?” You asked, trying to feel useful.
“Daddy is making us smoothies!” Felix answered and you had to stand up, up and away from their heigh, so they didn’t catch the tears in your eyes.
“Okay! Don’t forget to give him those pictures - he’ll love those.” You praised them and they both giggled to each other.
The sight of your sons laughing should’ve made you so happy, but it only reminded you that you weren’t the source of their happiness. You weren’t on their mind enough to be their inspiration for drawings. You definitely weren’t their hero. You were just a woman to them, not a mum. You wanted to be so much more but it was clear that they didn’t need you. They were loved by their dad and each other, not in need of your heart.
Eventually Belle settled down and was sleeping better through the night, leaving you and Harry to much more peaceful nights sleep. Well, just Harry.
You had found it near impossible to get to sleep now. You lay awake at night wondering when Belle would next wake up, wondering when she’d next need you. Harry was always quick out of bed though, even if he actually was sleeping, to help her ordering you to stay in bed and rest yourself. You couldn’t help feel like he was telling you to stay put because he knew you wouldn’t be able to do your job properly - and you started to believe him.
You’d found yourself getting jealous of those that could get to sleep. When you were walking down the road you’d judge a person by how much sleep they looked like they got last night. You definitely looked like you only had 2 hours - even when you’d only had 37 minutes but who’s counting? Your dark circles were heavily noticeable, but no one cared enough to ask. Even Harry stayed clear of you more and more often; spending more time with the kids than you and sleeping on his side of the bed instead of yours at nighttime.
There had been one evening where you had been so restless that Harry had gotten so frustrated and left the room, with a blanket and a pillow, and slept on the couch. You’d never felt so much like a burden than that night. Your family was rejecting you and you felt like a failure. You were a success at failing in everything. The meals you cooked went half eaten by everyone because you would’ve forgotten to add a key ingredient. The children preferred to spend more time playing with their dad because you weren’t energised enough to play the games they wanted to. Your daughter still rejected your milk. It was all too much and you just wanted one nights peace for it to change.
Last night had been that night.
Fuck these were so addicting. You were finally getting the sleep that you so badly craved, only with the help of tablets.
You wanted the sleep because that was the one place you could escape to. You needed that escape to help you get out of bed the next morning. Life was too hard for you to not dream, and without dreaming you didn’t want life.
It started off with taking one every night before bed, but then they stopped working again, so you started taking two, then three. Four was obviously where your body hit its limit.
“Mummy? Can you come tuck me in please?” Oli asked, little toy giraffe in hand and shaking you in hopes of waking you up to send him peacefully off to sleep.
You’d gone to bed a bit earlier tonight, lying saying that you were extremely exhausted. Harry said he would be able to handle things and that’s when you excitedly ran upstairs to take your pills; 4 of them. You’d made it into your bed, feeling slightly drowsy after completing your nighttime routine, but then you started to feel unwell and really ill. Before you’d passed out you’d stuck your fingers down your throat in hopes to make the feeling in your stomach disappear, but it ended up you throwing up all over the bed and pass out right there.
“Mummy! Wake up!” Oli rattled your back, but you were still unresponsive.
Oli padded out of the room and down to his sisters room where he knew his dad was. Belle was being extra fussy this evening and Harry suspected it had everything to do with you retiring early. He heard Oli come into the room just as he’d gotten Belle down.
“Y’alright buddy?” Harry whispered, tip-toeing out of Belle’s room, leaving the door open slightly, and crouched down in front of him.
“No. Mummy’s not waking up.” Oli pouted, rubbing a tired fist over his eye.
“She’s probably in dreamland, bud. She was really tired today.”
“She’s really tired all of the times.”
“I know, Ol.” Because Harry did know, but he was too much of a coward to face up to the problem. The doctors had said that post natal depression can strengthen with every birthed child, but he was too blind sighted by the fact that you’d overcome the first birthed post natal depression so quickly, and was so in love with his baby girl, that he didn’t truly see how bad things had gotten. Harry had tried giving you some space, distancing himself from you in bed and spending more time with the kids so you could relax and rest up, but nothing seemed to be working. He was surprised, actually, that you’d been having better sleep recently and so was hopeful that maybe the worst of the depression was over.
Hell, was he so wrong.
“Go to bed, bud okay? I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Wake mummy up so she can give me a kiss.”
“I’ll try little man, alright?” Harry scuffed his sons hair and then watched him walk off to his room.
Harry walked into your dark room, the air smelling slightly sour, and walked around to your side of the bed. He sat down next to you sighed heavily. He needed to speak to you, no matter how tired or angry you’d be with him. He was losing you as a wife and a mother and a soulmate and a lover. He was just losing you, just as you were losing yourself and he was doing tip-toeing around the problem any longer. He was going to try and make this better. He was going to better understand how you were feeling in order to help you.
“Baby?” He spoke softly, nudging you gently, “Baby wake up.” No response. “Y/N, my love? Wake up for me darling, need to speak with you.” Normally you would’ve stirred by now but there was still nothing. “Y/N?” Harry shook you a bit more urgently now - one that would surely wake even the deepest of sleepers. “Y/N!” He shouted, perhaps a bit too loudly for the comfort of his children.
He turned you over and that’s when he knew this was very, very, bad.
Your face was pale grey and your mouth was covered in the remains of vomit, and he suddenly understood the gross sour smell from before. Your hair was greasy and stuck all in the wet sick all over your face. Your eyes were puffy from the remains of tears. You looked dead.
“No, no, no. Y/N! No you don’t.” Harry’s eyes starting weeping and he couldn’t think straight. He checked your pulse on your wrist and timed it - it was unhealthily faint. He wouldn’t be surprised if you were in your last beats of your heart. His tears and sobs were uncontrollable, but he had to be both strong for you and his children, as well as for him. “Fuck sake pull yourself together Harry. Okay, baby hold on please. Okay? You don’t get to leave me like this, you hear me? I love you so much, baby. Fuck i’m so sorry.” He gently placed your head back down on the pillow and pulled out his phone.
999
“What’s your emergency?”
“I need a-an ambulance p-please. I-I think my wife i-is dying.”
The rest of it was a blur for Harry. Him trying to wake you up. The ambulance arriving. Oli and Felix crying when they saw you being carried away on a stretcher. Belle’s deafening screams. Harry’s heart beating for the both of you.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
It was the rhythmic beeping sounds that woke you up.
Your whole body felt achey and sore, your head a pounding mess. You opened your eyes slowly, adjusting them to the light of the room. You expected to see the family photo on the wall opposite you and the white of your curtains, but you were met with a heart-monitor machine and a hospital bed instead. You looked down at your body and noticed a cannula in your arm, making you squirm because you hated stuff like that so much. Your nose had a tube running inside it too, feeding you the oxygen your lungs weren’t receiving properly.
It then dawned on you how you weren’t in the room alone. You saw a sleeping Anne and Gemma on the chairs in the far corner, with Felix and Oli tucked against their sides - Anne with Oli and Felix with Gemma. It was so cute to see them so cuddled up close. They looked peaceful. You took note of the baby pram that was at the end of your bed, most likely playing bed to your beautiful daughter. Your mind felt lost. You can’t really remember what had happened, apart from taking four of those sleeping pills. You fully remember the weight of feeling worthless and useless as both a mum and a wife, though, and that feeling was still very prominent.
Your eyes lastly landed to the side of you, where Harry was sat but also laid on your bed. The top of half of his body laid upon the bed, his head buried onto this arm deep within the bed, whilst his bottom stayed rooted to the chair. His hand was holding yours tightly, which was a sign that he wasn’t asleep. You were so scared to face him though. You had failed him, again and again and you weren’t sure whether you could be enough for him anymore. Enough for your family anymore.
You squeezed his hand three times saying ‘I love you.’
“Y/N,” He whispered so hoarsely, but you were so focused on him to even catch it. He looked ruined, and you’d done that to him. His eyes were dark and tired, but also red and puffy from where he’d been crying. His hair was a mess and you could tell it hadn’t been washed in a while. How long had you been out for? You felt rested in your sleep, but not in your mind or your heart.
“I—” Your breathe got caught in your throat, but you persevered to finish your words. He deserved to here them. “I’m sorry.” You were whispering so you didn’t disturb anyone else in the room.
“No, stop it. I’m sorry baby.”
“Harry don’t, you don’t have anyt—”
“Stop yes I do I—”
“Harry please you don’t owe—”
“Y/N listen!” He cut the little volley-conversation and ordered you to just stop. You started crying when you saw that he was too. “Whatever you’re going to say, don’t. Whatever you’re thinking, stop it right now. Because I love you. Fuck, I do. I love you so much that when I found you unconscious in a pile of your own sick thinking you were dead, my only thought was that I wished it were me instead”.
“Harry, you don’t mean—”
“My god Y/N! You don’t get it, do you? I would do anything to switch places with you right now. I would suffer a thousand times over if it meant you were okay. I’d suffer in hell for you. Nobody else but you has ever made me feel like this. I married you because I love you and I want to wake up next to you every day of my beating hearts life. I chose to have children with you, because I knew how great of a mum you’d be and what beautiful people you’d help bring up into the world—”
“But i’m not.” You cut Harry short, trying to pull your hand away from him but he didn’t let you - only tightening his grip and pulling himself closer towards you. He was so close you could kiss him.
“Not what?” He asked, although he already knew the answer. You’d both had this conversation before, but you were both tired of it and were ready for it to be your last now.
“A good mum. I’m- i’m not a good mum or wife, Harry and i’m sorry.”
“I told you not say it and stop thinking it, because you’re completely wrong Y/N. You’re a good mother and a good wife, because you are a good person.”
“But i’m not great.” You whimpered, thinking back to the drawings your Oli and Felix had done. “I’m not the best.”
“But you don’t have to be, baby. You see our beautiful, healthy, happy and safe babies over there?” Harry turned to look at them, love in his eyes as in yours. “They wouldn’t be all those things, no matter how you feel about yourself, without you. I could never have brought them up to be half the people they are without you by my side, the way you make me a better person. You claim you don’t got this, but baby you’re already doing it and have been doing it for 5 years with our children and so much longer with me.”
“I’m just so fucked up Harry.” Your head tilted back on the pillow as you got heavily emotional over the situation.
Harry shook his head and moved his hand to cup the back of your neck, moving your head forwards until it met his. The touch of his skin against yours, no matter where and how small, made you feel alive and you’d missed him and that feeling so much. You missed loving him so much.
“Listen to me.” He ordered, keeping you still. “You are strong and you are brave Y/N Styles. No matter what you tell yourself I will be here every goddamn day of my life, if I have to, to remind you that you are worth more than your fucking weight in gold. You are my heart. You are my soul and the mother to my greatest achievements. I know they are yours too, just as I know I am your heart.
“You are.” You whispered so quietly under your breathe, but Harrys heart warmed when he caught you saying it. He knew though.
“Just let me love you. Let me be there for you. If you want medication then let’s do it, and i’ll be there for every step of the way. If you want to go to a rehabilitation centre for a bit, that’s okay we can—”
You shook your head and licked the tears away from your face. You were both such tearful messes, but the love between you was undeniable. “No, no please, no.”
“Okay, okay, love. We won’t. See, you’re okay. I promise, you’re okay. Stay with me, yeah? I’ll love you and keep you safe, just as you will me.”
“Promise.” You told him sincerely. He brought his lips to yours with that single word. He was so proud of your for being so brave and strong. He wishes he was half the person you were. His lips conveyed those thoughts of his and you could taste the love and passion burning through his heart and out on to his lips. He tasted like home. z he was home. Your lips smacked together messily, but you didn’t care because you loved each other too much and had kissed each other even more. Once you pulled back he stayed close to you, smiling at you with such awe. “I think.. I think I want to try medication please.”
Harry didn’t say ‘okay’ or ‘sure thing’, no. He said four words that meant more to you in that moment that any others in the universe. More than saying ‘I love you.’ Words that reminded you that not everything is okay and that sucks really bad, but you’re doing your best to get through it. It was a reminder that you had so many people who loved you and cared for you. It was a gun at the starting line symbolising that the journey ahead wasn’t going to be easy, but worth it.
“I’m proud of you.”
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pairing: switch!Eren and switch!fem bodied reader
content: college au, OnlyFans/sex work, masturbation (m), praise kink, oral (f and m receiving), squirting, penetrative sex, drug and alcohol use, classic college party, Eren is down horrendously bad, I believe in long haired Eren supremacy, minors DNI
summary: when jean finally convinces eren to crawl out from under his rock to join society on instagram, he finds there’s a whole lot more than just pictures of food. there’s you.
wc: 15.4k (I know it’s a long one, hope you enjoy tho)
Eren Jaeger had recently found himself in a very, very deep hole. It all started innocently, when one of his best friends Jean had convinced Eren to crawl out of his hole and create an Instagram to join society.
“C’mon Eren,” Jean had teased over a week ago as they studied out on the lawn of their school. “You have no idea what you’re missing out on. No one even uses Facebook anymore, it’s all for moms who want to brag about little Timmy’s genius for figuring out one plus one equals two.”
“What do you even do on Instagram?” Eren’s brows knitted together in confusion, Jean whipping his phone out to show Eren exactly how to use it.
“You post pictures,” Jean navigated to his profile, tapping and sliding down to show Eren all of Jean’s shameless selfies.
“Of just yourself?” he breathed, not comprehending the appeal at all. Don’t people look at his face enough?
“Well, you can post anything you want, that’s the beauty of it. Plus, when you’re not doing that, you get to see and like other people’s pictures.”
“But it says here you follow, 1,536 accounts? And you have 5,000 following you back?” Eren asked incredulously, surprised about how popular his friend’s online persona was. “How do you even know that many people?”
“You don’t,” Jean shrugged, making a few taps to his home page as posts began to load up. “Celebrities have Instagram, our friends have Instagram, fuck, every attractive person on the entire planet has one.”
“How do you even find these people?” Eren’s questioning never seemed to end, the concept out of his comprehension. Facebook was one thing, he personally knew every single one of his friends and family there, and honestly he really enjoyed people just talking about their day to day ordeals.
That’s when Jean forced Eren to hand his phone over and download the app. Jean snapped a quick picture of Eren, to which Eren had no reaction time to. Before he could protest, Jean had already uploaded the candid with some random song lyrics as the caption. To be honest with himself, Eren had to admit that Jean had taken a very flattering picture. He had his knee brought to his chest while his arm dangled over, back slumped and relaxed while he sat on the blanket they had set down before lounging there, hair in his signature sloppy man bun. It was mid day, so all the shadows casted behind his body as the sun’s rays illuminated every high point and contrast of his stoic face.
After a few follow backs from his friends, Armin and Mikasa, he had accumulated a few dozen likes, and Eren couldn’t help the feelings of instant gratifications wash over him, “Okay? So, now what?”
“Now,” Jean began to instruct him, putting the phone back in Eren’s hands after showing him the basics of social media. “Go to my page, and start following whoever you want from my following list. There’s some really hot girls.”
And when Eren laid in his dorm bed that night by himself, he did just that. He really didn’t want to give Jean the satisfaction of showing him who he followed, or why he decided to. His finger scrolled and scrolled through the following list on Jean’s Instagram, hitting the follow button on a few bands he really enjoyed. But then, his hand stopped at one username in particular. The avatar showed a pretty girl, smiling brightly into the camera, sun’s golden rays blooming behind her hair.
Eren tapped on the username, and the first thing he took note of was the bio. ‘Connoisseur of mimosas and rock and roll’, he had to smirk at that, what a simple sentence to sum yourself up with. His eyes flickered to the link in her bio, titled, OnlyFans. He titled his head, Jean hadn’t mentioned what OnlyFans was? Did everyone have an OnlyFans too, like Instagram? He tapped on the highlighted link to be met with a page of prices. What the fuck was so exclusive about it that he had to pay ten dollars for a single picture? As he scrolled down a bit more, he noticed the pricing rising to the final payment cost.
“200 dollars for a personal Snapchat and to talk to me every day?” he read aloud, mouth open in disgust. “What the fuck is this?”
He hit the done option in the upper left corner, returning to the Instagram page in question. He tapped on the first photo, the girl’s back facing the camera, completely bare as her hair trickled down the center. She was sitting in a pretty pink bath, floating flowers all around, staring out a window, captioned, ‘wishing you were here’. His gaze lingered on the dips of her waist, before scrolling down to see the girl in some more clothing. This one was a much prettier picture, glasses set on the brim of her nose while she sat comfortably at a wooden table in a library. She stared directly into the camera, a pretty smile on her face while her hands sat perched under her chin. Some books were open on the table, and Eren took note of the quilted skirt peeking out from the under the bottom, her knees tightly crossed. ‘finals week is going to be the death of me, thank the universe for coffee’.
Eren back tracked out of the photo after double tapping, trying to drink in a comprehensive idea of what exactly people were paying so much money to see. He scrolled, and landed on his answer. The girl sat on a stool, phone angled in the mirror to take in her frame, wearing nothing but black lingerie and heels with a smirk on her face, the caption simply, ‘follow me on OnlyFans, link in bio’.
‘Hey Jean, what’s OnlyFans?’ Eren typed a quick text to his now mentor, patiently waiting as three bubbles appeared from his friend’s end.
‘Lol I see what you’re using Instagram for now, Jaeger’, was Jean’s only reply, and Eren could feel himself getting frustrated. Before he could type back an angry text, those bubbles popped up once again. ‘It’s basically porn, you pay for people’s pictures and videos’.
‘Why would someone want to do that? It’s free almost everywhere else’.
‘Because, young grasshopper, girls are hot and I’m trynna see some titties’.
Eren rolled his eyes at his friend’s stupidity. Deducing that Jean was obviously one of these paying customers, Eren felt a little more secure in himself as he tapped the follow button on the girl’s page. What he wasn’t expecting though was a notification informing him she had followed back, followed quickly by another one liking his only post. Eren couldn’t hold back a blush, heart thumping in his chest. Did this girl think he was good looking?
The thought didn’t sit for long as yet another notification popped up, this time a comment. The girl had simply put a heart eyed emoji, followed by a fire emoji. Eren retreated in haste back to her profile, analyzing every picture and caption.
That had been a month ago, and now Eren had a full blown addiction to the website, more specifically her Instagram. Eren was even paying for her OnlyFans now, making excuses that the money he spent would be used for coffees and lunches anyhow, and he really had to nip his caffeine addiction in the butt so he might as well spend his cash on her.
She had just posted a photoset, one of many on her page, completely naked aside from a gold necklace adorned on her neck, a simple initial of ‘E’ rested prettily on her collarbone. It was like she knew Eren was devouring her social medias on a daily basis. It was all for him, Eren had concluded. There was no coincidence that she had followed and liked his own page, it was all fate and meant to be. Eren had figured out how to DM someone, thanks to Jean showing him how to during one of their classes, and he had taken full advantage of the girl’s inbox. Unfortunately with no reply or read receipt to even prove she had received his messages, introducing himself and showering the girl with compliments. Oh, Eren was down bad. He even brought himself to pay out the $50 tier on her OnlyFans for the month, tired of entering his card information for every daily post.
His dick twitched hard as he drank in her form, curvaceous and beautiful and feminine. It wasn’t even like he just wanted to fuck her either, if he needed relief like that he’d just hit up one of the handful of girls he had saved in his contacts. Eren Jaeger wanted to take this girl out on a fucking date. They had so much in common, they were practically soulmates. She liked and followed all the same bands Eren did, posted on her stories all about her favorite foods and her zodiac sign. While he didn’t really believe in that shit, his Google search history of checking if Aries was compatible spoke to something completely different.
And then Eren began noticing something. How the library she frequently posted pictures in was the same library on campus. All the restaurants she went to were in an hour radius of him, half of them being his usual hangout spots. She lived locally, which thoroughly surprised him. Had he seen her around before? No, definitely not, he would’ve definitely remembered her pretty face. None of the girls that he knew looked like her, and if Eren didn’t know what a woman’s body felt like, he would’ve sworn her body was made of plastic.
Eren was practically an expert at Instagram now, and had plenty of opportunities to follow other beautiful women, but he chose not to. He felt guilty one night as he maneuvered through another pretty girl’s pictures, quickly retreating back to the comfort of his favorite girl’s instead. This was one of the reasons Eren had fought getting online for so long, whenever he found something he liked, he got obsessive.
His attention was drawn back to her naked photos, and he slipped his hand under the fabric of his sweatpants as he began to fuck his fist to her pretty image. All for him, he panted as he imagined what she would look like in front of him, beautiful and begging for his touch.
“Thank you so much,” you smiled graciously at the Starbucks employee in front of you, taking your large iced coffee from his hands.
“No problem, have a great day!”
You tossed your hair behind your shoulder as you turned around, the smile still vibrant on your face. Today was a good day, you decided almost as soon as you woke up. After studying for finals for nearly two weeks straight, you finally had a day off to enjoy yourself. Your best friend, Sasha, had convinced you to go on a small shopping day with her. You eagerly agreed that morning, toothbrush forgotten in between your teeth as your fingers rapidly tapped away to schedule a time. You were running out of sexy outfits for your OnlyFans content, and frankly, you really need some new summer clothes. Spring was drawing to a close, and you couldn’t just wear hoodies and leggings all year round, no matter how much you wanted to.
The mall was about two blocks away from the Starbucks, and as you chugged down your coffee, you slid your phone out of your back pocket of your jeans to see multiple notifications from Instagram. Just more people liking your posts, and some DMs, but you just rolled your eyes. You got tired of explaining on your stories that they were broken, and Instagram had no intent on trying to adjust it so you’d be able to view your messages and reply. You sighed, slipping it back into your pocket as you made your way through the entrance of the shopping mall.
Sasha was seated at a table in the cafeteria near the entrance you had just walked through. She jumped out of her seat, a wide smile on her lips as she strutted up to your form.
“You ate without me?” you pouted, smelling the leftover scent of pizza wash over you.
“Yeah, but don’t worry, I’m still hungry,” Sasha waved her hand. This girl had the fastest metabolism of a person you had ever met, so her statement didn’t really phase you.
“Okay, so, before I spend all my money and forget, we have to go to the lingerie shop,” you stated, stomping your way to the escalators.
“I’m guessing your OnlyFans is doing good?” she asked, knowing just how expensive this certain store was as she lingered behind you.
“Dude, you literally wouldn’t believe it,” you sighed dreamily. “If I had known how much money I’d be making, I would’ve done it way sooner. You should seriously consider making your own.”
“Nah, I’ll just let you have the spotlight on this one,” she snickered as the both of you stepped on the moving staircase. “Are they all creepy old men?”
“No, surprisingly, there’s a few people I have classes with that follow me,” you gossiped. “You know Jean from economics?”
Sasha nodded, eyes widening, “No fucking way, he’s my friend! I’m not that surprised though, he’s always talking to girls and asking for their Instagrams.”
“He’s never even talked to me, right? But he buys every single post I put out! Which is crazy, considering it’d just be cheaper for him to buy the subscription,” you shrugged, stepping off the escalator and walking shortly afterwards into the lingerie store. “That’s what most my viewers do, anyways.”
“Seen anyone else interesting?” Sasha hummed, eyeing the various garments surrounding her in intrigue.
Your eyes honed in on a strappy bright red one piece, “Just a few of his friends, I think. One of them is pretty cute, actually, but he’s only got one picture up.”
“You talking about Eren?”
You nodded, eyes lighting up, “Yeah, do you know him? I’ve never seen him around campus before.”
Sasha was beginning to plot, “Yeah he usually hangs out with Armin and Mikasa, but he goes to a lot of house parties. You know, actually, I think Jean is throwing one soon. He rented a cabin for after finals, you should come!”
“Won’t that be weird?” you scrunched your face, picking up the red one piece and moving onto the next garment that caught your eye. “Like I said, I’ve never even talked to him.”
“Yeah but you know Mikasa and me,” she raised her thumb towards herself. “Eren will be there too.”
“All I said was that I thought he was cute, Sasha,” you laughed her off. “But I’ll think about it. Text me the details and I’ll let you know if I’m free.”
“Something tells me Jean would be very happy to see you there,” Sasha chuckled, you giggling in response to her suggestive comment. The two of you picked through the selection of skimpy clothing, taking it up the cashier to check out.
You walked out of the store together, giggling over small banter. Your trip to the mall was quick after that, and in the end you held a grip full of medium sized paper bags, walking outside the mall with Sasha.
“Oh, hey!” Sasha suddenly quipped, placing her bags on the sidewalk, pulling her phone out of her crossbody bag. “We should take a picture!”
“Sasha I’m not even wearing lipstick,” you half heartedly complained, getting ready to pose next to your best friend.
“Literally, you’re so fucking hot,” she deadpanned, turning her head to look you directly in the eyes. “Shut up and get in, bitch.”
You threw your head back in laughter, leaning in on the left side of her frame, pushing your hair framing your face behind your ear. You smiled widely while Sasha did the same, hearing a soft click of her phone, indicating the photo was taken. Your phone vibrated in your pocket, bringing it out to see a notification stating she had posted it to her story. You’d repost it to your story later after you grabbed food, you decided, the conversation turning to the topic of where the two of you would eat before heading back to your apartment to get drunk in celebration of your semesters ending.
Eren and his two friends sat crowded in Jean’s dorm room bathroom, passing around a blunt. He could hear Connie coughing harshly as it was passed to Eren, the boy taking a deep drag of the backwoods cigarillo. Exhaling slowly, Eren brought his phone out of his hoodie pocket to open it up to change the song playing, his phone instantly opening to Instagram.
Distracted now by his favorite obsession, he glanced at the stories section, her name front in the line, glowing in that now familiar pink and purple circle. Eren couldn’t have tapped faster, and when he did, his mouth hung open.
“Yo,” Eren spoke loudly, shoving his phone in Jean and Connie’s faces. “Sasha knows this girl?”
“Yeah, they’re like best friends,” Connie quirked an eyebrow. “You don’t know her?”
“No, I just saw we had mutual friends,” Eren’s eyebrows knitted together. “How come we’ve never hung out with her before?”
“I don’t know actually,” Jean said, exhaling the blunt after it was passed to him from Eren’s fingertips. “I had a class with her this semester, she seems nice.”
“You’re only saying that because she’s hot,” Connie chuckled. “I bet you’ve never even talked to the girl.”
Jean’s face ignited in a fierce blush as he found interest in the ceiling tiles, “Shut up. It’s harder to talk to girls than it looks. You should know that, Connie.”
“Hey! I talk to girls!” Connie leaned up from his seated position on the floor.
“Idiots,” Eren sighed, rolling his eyes. “Neither of you have any game.”
“Not all of us are as gifted as you are, Eren,” Connie protested, a smirk spreading across his lips. “You could talk to a fucking mouse and it’d figure out someway to talk back.”
Eren rolled his eyes again, harder this time, “You just talk to girls like they’re human beings, it’s not that fucking hard.”
“Oh yeah? Betcha’ won’t be saying that whenever you see that girl around,” Jean teased, finally passing the blunt to Connie in the rotation, Connie muttering something about hogging it.
Eren shifted uncomfortably on the closed toilet seat, “Whatever, Jean.”
“Speak of the fucking devil!” Jean shouted, scaring the very high pair of boys at the suddenness. “Sasha just texted me asking if she can bring her this weekend to the cabin!”
Eren’s heart erupted into a flutter of uneven beats, his face heating up. This girl he had been drooling over was going to be at a party, with him? He suddenly felt like a teenager, the idea of seeing his precious addiction face to face giving him full blown anxiety.
Soft thuds of the bass of the stereo filled the room, catchy pop music drawing Eren out of his stupor to gaze hastily around the room, searching.
“What’s up with you tonight?” Armin had asked him, drawing his attention away once again. “It’s been an hour since the party started and you’ve barely drunk anything.”
Taking note of the full red solo cup in his hand, flickering his gaze between the liquid and his best friend, Eren shrugged and tipped the rim back in his lips, opening his throat and taking large gulps until the cup was empty. “Happy?”
Armin laughed loudly, although only having two strong drinks, his best friend was beginning to feel the numbness of intoxication, “You’re really out of it tonight, everything alright?”
“Yeah I’m fine, just waiting for the smoke sesh so I’m not cross faded,” Eren smirked, lying easily. “Last time I got too drunk and decided to rip Jean’s bong, I woke up in some random front yard with one shoe on.”
Armin shook his head in disbelief, “You really need to start making better life choices, Eren.”
Eren shook the empty solo cup in front of his friend, “I’m trying here.”
Truthfully, the reason Eren wasn’t halfway to getting shit faced was because he didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of the girl of his dreams. She still hadn’t shown up yet, and Eren was getting anxious that she wasn’t going to show. Sasha and Mikasa hadn’t shown up yet either, which gave him a resemblance of hope that the three of you were together, and on your way currently to the party. His heart thudded heavily in his ribcage as he heard the jingle of the front door turn, and his attention was fully concentrated on the door frame ahead of him. His jaw dropped at the sight, his breath caught in his throat.
You asked Sasha earlier that day what you should wear to the party, and Sasha had just waved and told you whatever you felt looked the best. Not exactly helpful, you had just decided on black ripped jeans and a low cut shirt, paired with your favorite leather jacket and trusty Vans. You felt incredibly undressed as Sasha drove to Mikasa’s house, watching her modelesque frame saunter out her front door towards the back car doors.
“Mikasa, you could make a paper bag look hot,” you showered her with appreciation, her face blushing in response as she tugged her long sleeved body con dress towards her knees. “Fuck, should I have worn a dress? How nice is everyone else dressed?”
Sasha couldn’t have given two fucks about how she dressed in front of her friends, adorned in blue skinny jeans and a causal crop top, although her face was beat to the Gods, “Shut the fuck up, you’re one to talk about making paper bags look good. Besides, knowing the boys they probably made minimal effort, probably all wearing sweatpants.”
The three of you snickered at this, and Sasha pushed the car into drive and set out on your 45 minute journey into the mountains. Nerves hadn’t set in until you were face to face with the cabin door, nervous that the girls’ friends weren’t going to like you. Putting a brave face on, Mikasa grasped the door knob and pushed it open, the three of you gliding in.
Eren honestly had wanted to drop down to his knees and kiss the ground you walked on. You were the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Your eyes were searching, for what neither of you knew, until your eyes had finally landed on him. You smiled politely, moving your hand up in a quick wave to both him and Armin.
Eren couldn’t fathom moving any single part of his body, so awestruck by you. Jean shook Eren out of his dumbstricken state with a hard pat to his shoulder, “Why don’t you go introduce yourself, Eren?”
“Fuck off, horse face,” Eren spat, trying to will himself to either make strides towards you or to break his gaze, neither working. “Why don’t you?”
“I’d love to,” he smiled wickedly, inspired by liquid courage to lock arms with Eren and force him closer to the trio of girls that had finally made their appearance. Armin followed behind, Connie emerging out of the bathroom to give his hello’s to his best friend Sasha and company.
Eren could hear his heart beat in his ears as he stopped right in front of you, forcing his mouth closed in a tight lipped grimace. He felt like a fucking teenager with a crush.
“Hi,” you introduced yourself, smiling widely. “It’s so nice to finally meet you guys!”
“Nice to meet you too!” Armin spoke up, oblivious to his friends’ reaction to the fresh pretty face of yours.
Jean and Connie wouldn’t admit it, but they were feeling their own nervousness. Jean’s out of guilt as he scanned your body top to bottom, Connie’s natural shyness kicking in due to the newcomer. Both were able to overcome it though, and offer up their own introductions. Your eyes landed on Eren once again, tilting your head, waiting for his intro.
“I’m Eren,” he swallowed. “Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” you looked down, smiling softly. You raised your hand then, looking up at the boys in front of you, revealing a handle of vodka. “I brought a gift with me too!”
“My kinda girl!” Jean spoke just a bit too enthusiastically. “Shots, shots, shots!”
Connie pumped his fist, chiming in, the rest of the party joining as well as the crowd made their way into the kitchen. Eren purposely hung back, trying to keep as close to you as possible.
“You happen to bring any chasers with you?” he had leaned in, tickling the side of your head with his breath.
“No, I totally forgot,” you sheepishly admitted.
“Looks like we’re all gonna get plastered then,” he chuckled smoothly, sending goosebumps down your body.
“Is it really a party then if at least one person doesn’t have their head in a toilet?” you had easily quipped back, feeling more comfortable now that the introductions were out of the way.
Eren hummed in half hearted agreement, feeling slightly more relaxed himself. Besides, his attention was being grasped by the plastic shot glass being shoved in his hand, as well as your dainty one. The group held up the shot glasses, a few phone cameras capturing the moment to post on their stories, and you all swung your heads back to allow the bitter liquid to trickle down your throats. Eren made a mild face, taking a stolen glance at your own to see your grimace, sticking your tongue out in disbelief at the taste.
Another hour had passed by, and Eren was running out of reasons to follow you around the cabin as you shifted between conversations to get to know the group of friends better. You hadn’t really noticed him trailing behind you, nor did you really care because you were very quickly warming up to Eren. It also didn’t hurt that he looked exceptionally better in person. His hair was lazily swung into a half top bun, wearing a couple of gold chains with his white tee tightly hugging his torso, tucked seamlessly into black ripped jeans displaying his muscular knee caps. Eren was definitely a looker, you shifted your gaze up to his face as he made some witty comment to Sasha, his eyes flickering to your face to catch your reaction.
“Oh my god, there was this one time,” Sasha spoke your name. “She had gotten so high during last year’s spring break, and the two of us and Mikasa came up with the brilliant idea of becoming one with nature. So, naturally, we ran to Walmart and bought this tent on clearance. Turns out it was made for kids, so none of us actually fit inside when we got back to Mikasa’s house. Mikasa and I curled up in a ball, surrounded by snacks, and this smart girl over here decided it was the best choice to just lay out on the lawn and pass out.”
“I wanted to watch the sun rise!” you laughed, trying to quickly explain yourself to Eren’s amused smirk. “And the grass was just so nice that night!”
“The grass was basically straw,” Sasha countered teasingly. “Twenty degrees outside, absolutely freezing. She was MIA for like a week afterwards with a cold.”
You shrugged carelessly, “Worth it.”
Now the two of you had sleeping on lawns in common? Eren scoffed inwardly. Yup, it was official, you were his soulmate. Still though, the topic of why you were so casual in person while your naked pictures existed online tickled his thoughts. He was hoping that somehow it’d get brought up naturally in conversation, saving himself the embarrassment if you were to get offended by his questioning. So far it seemed you liked him, not having said a word about him trailing after you like a lost puppy. Jean had been sending him knowing looks all night, Connie shooting two thumbs up at Eren while Armin looked on in confusion.
Mikasa had strolled out of the bathroom finally, joining the trio who stood casually in the living room, simply stating, “I’m starving. You guys think they deliver pizza out here?”
Sasha’s eyes widened in excitement, “I don’t care if it takes an hour to get here. We’re ordering right now.”
Already ahead of the two, your phone was pulled out in your hands to open up the Dominoes app, punching in the location of the party and placing the order online. Eren watched this all, peering over your hands to see the total.
“Guys, we should chip in,” Eren called out, grabbing the boys’ attention. “We’re ordering pizza.”
“No, no!” you protested, confirming the order. “It’s really fine, my treat.”
“But that’s really expensive,” he frowned, the group all joined together in the living room.
“Don’t worry, she’s got that OnlyFans money,” Sasha waved off Eren’s concern.
“OnlyFans?” Armin questioned, darting his eyes in between Sasha and you. “What’s that?”
Jean hid his blushing cheeks and your eyes flickered to him, then back to Armin, “I sell naked pictures online.”
“So what, a bunch of old guys give you money?” Armin had asked innocently, not judgemental in the slightest.
You giggled, relieved he wasn’t asking in a demeaning manner, “Actually, you’d be really surprised about who you know follows me. There’s a lot of people from school.”
Eren’s blood ran cold as he felt a sudden onset of embarrassment. Did that mean you had known this entire time Eren was one of these followers? If you did, you didn’t let on to it, smiling shyly as the questions ended. Eren hadn’t been done with the conversation, but pride from exposing himself in front of his friends kept his mouth shut.
It was around one in the morning when the party was at its peak. Sasha was being held up by her legs by Connie as she did a keg stand, you and the group cheering the girl on in your own drunken hazes. She tapped the large can, indicating she was finished, Connie settling her down on solid ground as she belched loudly.
“That was fucking awesome, Sasha!” you giggled, throwing your arms up and around her. You were definitely feeling the shots you had been feeding yourself all night, holding your red solo cup high above the girl so it wouldn’t slosh on her.
“You should totally try it!” she encouraged devilishly.
You pouted then, taking a moment to consider, “I’ve never done a keg stand before, what if I can’t do it?”
“I’ll help you!” Eren all but pounced on the opportunity, your smile turning into a tipsy giggle. “It’s not that hard, you just keep chugging until you can’t anymore. I’ll hold you, you got this.”
You lightly blushed, nodding your head at the encouragement, bringing a fist to your chest as a salute, “I’ll do it! We gotta’ put on a cool song though, if I’m going to fail miserably I might as well have a good song to do it to.”
Mikasa volunteered, as she was already DJ, having the best music taste out of everyone in the group. She dug her phone out of her pocket, switching over to a ‘Pursuit of Happiness’ remix. Connie whooped at the choice, and everyone began to chant your name as you hovered by the keg, very nervous. Eren then placed his large hand on the small of your back, leaning in to reassure you once again. You gulped, nodding that you were ready to get into position.
“Okay, so you’re going to lean your arms on the top of the can, and I’ll grab your legs. Like when you were a kid and you’d do that stupid wheelbarrel thing,” Eren easily explained, chuckling lightly. “Use your hands to let me know when you’re done.”
You did as you were told, resting your upper body against the keg as Eren hooked his arms around your calves. He couldn’t help but admire how strong your legs felt in his grasp, and how right it felt to finally have some bodily contact. He had been trying to figure out a natural way all night, and he was bubbling over in excitement, the chance had arisen, glorious in the promise of touch.
You placed your lips hesitantly around the tap, opening it up into your mouth, and began to chug. ‘Chug, chug, chug!’ was chanted all around you, even Mikasa joining in on the fun. Fists bumped in the air, and you felt like the coolest fucking person in the world. Doing a keg stand wasn’t exactly in your goals list, but fuck did it feel like it should’ve been as your ego inflated.
“That’s it, you’re doing great!” Eren’s thumbs brushed the inside of your knees, leaning in to whisper. “Good girl.”
You sputtered around the tap, choking harshly. You removed your mouth quickly to gasp for air, and the tap shot up all over your shirt, jacket long forgotten resting on the sofa in the living room. Eren moved your legs down to the floor quickly seeing this, and wrapped his arm around your waist to steady you as your arm shot out to grab onto something, in this case his other arm.
“You alright?” Jean asked, a look of concern washing over his features as you finally got some air into your lungs.
“Yeah,” you coughed again, blushing in embarrassment. “I definitely made a mess though.”
“I brought some extra clothes with me,” Eren offered quickly. “One of these idiots always manages to somehow spill something within the first hour of drinking. I’ll show you where my bag is at.”
You smiled in appreciation, biting your tongue to accuse him of purposely throwing you off your game with his little praise that had your knees buckling. He unwound his arm, taking your hand and leading you to the staircase by the entryway, your smaller form following behind him as he thudded up the stairs. Three doors greeted you at the top, and he led you into the master bedroom, plainly decorated and lacking personal belongings. You watched as he chucked a duffle bag onto the mattress, unzipping it and going through his clothes. He found a sweatshirt, smirking inwardly as it had been one of his old sports ones with his last name embroidered on the back. Proud he could provide a claim to you, he extended it to you, and you gladly accepted it.
“Well, you did really well in the beginning there,” he chuckled, whisking his stray baby hairs behind his ear. “Sucks about the shirt though. The first time I tried to do a keg stand, I barfed everywhere.”
You laughed lightly, fingering the hem of your shirt, “I guess it could’ve been a lot worse. Still, at least I can check this off my bucket list.”
Eren’s eyebrows shot into his hairline as you lifted your shirt to reveal your bare stomach, and he whisked his body completely around so you didn’t see his reddened cheeks, “You could’ve asked me to leave.”
Behind him, you let a mischievous smirk cross your lips, “Nothing you haven’t seen before.”
Eren’s mouth fell open at your bold statement, letting his words leave before he could stop them, “You know?”
“Of course,” you discarded the sodden shirt to the floor, sitting on the bed instead of tossing the sweatshirt on. “You’re my favorite viewer.”
He caught your movement in the corner of his eye, and he turned his head to take in the sight. Fuck, you were even more beautiful in person. Your bra was white and pretty and dainty, pushing your tits together, accentuating cleavage that Eren wanted to bury his face in. His gaze moved up to your face, smiling so innocently at him as he let out a dark chuckle, “Is that so?”
You hummed, leaning back to expose your form a bit more, feeling confident from the alcohol, “You like every one of my pictures, you buy all my content, you’re pretty cute, of course you’re my favorite.”
Eren’s ego soared as he turned his body completely towards you, taking a small step forward, “You’re just so beautiful, how could I not? I do have to ask this though, how come you never answered any of my messages?”
“Oh, my DMs are broken. Instagram doesn’t let me view them or respond,” you explained easily. “You know, you could’ve hit me up on OnlyFans, I definitely would have answered you.”
A blush crept up on Eren again as he averted his gaze to the floor, “I didn’t think about that.”
You giggled softly, “What’d you send me anyways?”
“I asked you out on a date,” he admitted, growing more nervous. “Told you that you were really pretty. Y’know, stuff you probably get all the time.”
“Most of my messages are from guys trying to take me out drinking and to get a quick fuck,” you scoffed. “Y’know, if the offer is still on the table, I’d really like to take you up on it.”
“Really?” Eren’s eyes met yours in surprise, you watched his Adam’s apple bob along his throat as he gulped. “You’d want to go out with me?”
“Yeah, who else is going to hold me up when I try to do a keg stand again?” you smiled sheepishly, batting your eyelashes. Eren’s hands twitched at his sides, fuck, you were so pretty.
“Can I kiss you?” he asked seriously, his gaze hardening as he felt a wave of possessiveness. In his mind, you were already his girlfriend. You had accepted his date, and he’d be damned if he didn’t try to push his luck further.
Eren had never felt the way he feels right now. He took immediate notice of your blushing cheeks, your confident lean turn into a shy arch as you pushed your body into a hunched over seating position. Eren had experience with girls, that everyone knew as a fact, he was very far from being a virgin. You made him feel like a fucking virgin, heart beating wildly in his chest. All he wanted to do was to grab you and hide you away for his own greedy pleasure, the darkest parts of his mind tickled by the thought. He had laid a claim to you way before he had ever met you, and he wouldn’t let you escape now that he had you here, alone.
You didn’t answer his request, you pushed yourself off the mattress and met his staggering stance halfway. Unknown to his wicked thoughts, his past month of obsessing of you, you leaned up, gently brushing your lips against his. No one had ever asked you this simple question before, instead just taking the action as if they had owned you, and you thought to yourself that you could really love this boy who presented himself so innocently to you.
The soft placement of your lips to his was not enough, and Eren buried his mouth with your own, moving both of his hands to cup your face. He could feel your jaw beneath the pads of his fingertips as you attempted to meet his pace, sensual and passionate. The need for air forgotten for the both of you, sucking in deeply through your noses as the space continued to close between your bodies.
“Gonna take you someplace real nice,” muttered Eren as he pulled away slightly to gaze his half lidded eyes on your fluttering eyelashes, your gaze now hidden from him. “I know you like that one place in the city, I saw your little post of you wearing that tight dress. You looked so fucking pretty.”
Tingles shivered up your bones, a sharp intake of breath as you fluttered your eyes open to take in his deep lustful expression, “I’ll wear it for you, if you want.”
“Wear my necklace too.”
You pulled away completely this time, baffled, “Your necklace?”
“The one with the ‘E’ on it,” he breathed, moving forward to accommodate the sudden distance, his lips meeting the corner of your mouth. You realized then what he was referring to, a small smirk uplifting his kiss. You wouldn’t tell him though that the necklace in question was just some random trinket with no meaning you had purchased, or that you hadn’t even recognized the pretty cursive as a letter. You figured out very quickly Eren’s little crush was a bit more involved than just him attached to your hip at this party. No, it was way deeper than that. All of the likes, the money, the new information of messages made sense to you. Eren had believed you were his, and he had sought out confirmation all night to prove it.
“Okay,” you played along to his fantasy, an expert since it was your job online already to provide this to your viewers. “What else do you want me to wear?”
“There’s this one set of lingerie,” Eren was the one to pull back now, letting his teal eyes trail downwards to your chest, displeased by the lack of skin shown to him in that instance. “The black lacy one, fuck, wear that. You look so fucking sexy in that.”
“You don’t like when I wear white?” you pouted, bringing your hands to rest against the peak of your breasts, framing them like a picture.
“I like anything you wear,” a smirk crossed his features, eyes locked in on your tits. “Or what you don’t wear.”
You were met with two choices then. One, kiss Eren and get dressed and save yourself for your date, or two, fulfill his now present fantasy of his that was beginning to morph into your own. You mentally battled the decision in your mind, feeling the desire curl in your stomach at each option. If you were to give in now, Eren might not want to continue to chase after you, the promise of an actual date forgotten. Not to mention the party of people down stairs, the thud of music softened behind the closed door of the bedroom indicating it was still in full swing. Eren saw your hesitation, and let his hands travel to your elbows comfortingly.
“I know we technically just met,” he started, eyes now locked in on yours in genuine honesty. “But I really like you. You’re all I’ve thought about for the past month, so if you don’t feel comfortable going any further, that’s okay, I’ll wait. I’ve waited this long.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to,” you bit your lip as you watched his teal orbs flicker to your mouth. “It’s just — oh God, this is embarrassing to talk about so soon.”
“Shh, it’s okay, I won’t judge,” he cooed, bringing just a hand up to soothe over your cheek.
“I’m not exactly quiet,” you admitted, gesturing towards the floor. “I don’t really want to be the girl who fucks someone at the first party they show up to.”
Eren hadn’t predicted you to be loud in his fantasies, but he was really wishing he had. He held back a groan at your confession, images of what could be filling his dirty mind, “Fuck, okay, no problem. I don’t have any condoms with me anyways.”
“Actually,” you drawled. “I’m on the pill, so as far as that goes, that doesn’t really matter. I’m clean too, I haven’t been with anyone in a long time.”
Boxes were being ticked quickly off of Eren’s checklist, and he let his jaw hang open, “I’m clean too, I don’t fuck anyone without a condom, to be honest.”
I’m going to fuck her raw, is all that was going through his mind. Treat her so good, take her out wearing her pretty little dress and treat her like a fucking princess.
“Please tell me you’re free tomorrow,” Eren pleaded. “I’ll take us fucking anywhere you want.”
“I am, actually,” you batted your eyelashes.
“Cool,” he muttered, beginning to feel drawn into your lips again. As you began to lean back in, a sharp knock sounded at the door.
“Hey! Everything alright?” you both froze, recognizing the voice as Armin’s. Of course he’d be the only one to dare interrupt, and the party below had discouraged him. Eren had taken you upstairs, and while they were all aware of the possibility of the two of you would be hooking up, Armin was more concerned that one or both of you had gotten sick and were in need of help.
“Yeah, we’re fine! Be out in a second!” Eren shouted, feeling suddenly frazzled from the intense interaction between you two. If Armin had opened the door, seeing the two of you locked in together so closely, making out feverishly, it would be completely mortifying. Especially since it wouldn’t be the first time Armin had accidentally seen his best friend in a suggestive situation.
You pecked his lips quickly then, breaking out of his embrace to throw his sweatshirt over your head. Eren was counting backwards in his head to rid himself of the half erection in his pants, nearly impossible as he thought about how pretty you looked in his clothing.
“C’mon,” you tugged at his hand, urging him to follow you back downstairs. “We have a pizza to eat and friends to convince that we definitely didn’t just fuck for ten minutes.”
The group hadn’t made a single comment when you two rejoined the party, only just knowing smirks from Jean and Connie to Eren. Sasha had wiggled her eyebrows at you, and you quickly pulled her and Mikasa into the bathroom to recap what had just occurred upstairs. The girls clapped drunkenly at your news of a date, incredibly excited that their best friend was finally going out with a boy. The night had ended around three in the morning, bodies scattered throughout the house to pass out wherever they pleased. Eren had continued to stay by you the rest of the night, this time, not shy at all as he stole touches to your back. And when it came time to pass out, you felt smugness as he rested his head on your back while you laid on your side on the same bed upstairs, his arm thrown tightly around your waist. Sasha curled up in front of you, your own head snuggling into her shoulder as the room spun you into a deep slumber.
You sat at a vanity in your apartment bedroom the next evening, applying various makeups to your face. Mikasa had awoken you and Sasha pretty early the next morning, wanting to go home so she could get ready for her job. Eren snored quietly behind you as you tried your best to maneuver out of his grasp, and the three of you cleaned up the cups and plates scattered around the house as a thank you to Jean for the invitation. Sasha had driven you all the way back to your place when you realized you were still wearing Eren’s hoodie, and you smirked. Now he definitely had a reason to get you on this date tonight, you had something that belonged to him.
When Eren had woken up, he truly believed for a few minutes that you had just been a dream. Pictures and videos posted all over Instagram had shown him differently though, the two of you leaning against each other on the leather couch smiling drunkenly on Armin’s story had his heart pounding. His arm was around your shoulders, your head was tilted in the crook of his neck, and then Eren remembered that he was going to see you again tonight. He took a screenshot before the story moved on to a video of the group in a heated discussion about music tastes, a quiet chuckle made its way out of his throat as he recounted memories that would become very fond to him.
He had posted the picture then to his Instagram, a few others followed after that included him and his other friends. Eren tagged all of the people, but most importantly, the picture of the two of you was the first in the line up of the photo set. A few messages hit his inbox after he hit the post button, some classmates asking if you were his girlfriend, because you were wearing his sweatshirt in the photo. He decided to not respond, because as much as he wanted to tell them yes, he knew he’d be jumping the gun. His heart raced as a notification popped up — you had liked the picture, and added a comment, ‘last night was a movie’ with a kiss emoji. When he refreshed the page, your lit up story showed him that you had even reposted his photo set. His ego soared, his affections no longer one sided, and he couldn’t fucking wait to take you out later and show you the best time he could.
Eren had gotten your phone number from Sasha not long before your date, asking for your address and trying to pick out a time to head out to dinner. You tapped a response quickly, and looked at the clock to gauge how much time you’d need to be fully ready. That had been about three hours ago, your body had been scrubbed and shaved, hair curled prettily down your back as you added the final touches of lipstick to your lips. The dress Eren had talked about was laid out on your perfectly made bed, a pretty satin champagne colored fabric, and your apartment was fairly clean, fully expecting his company after the date of all went well. You dressed yourself easily, slipping on black heels when you heard the chime of your phone, letting you know Eren was awaiting you outside.
When the elevator doors chimed open as you walked into your lobby, you saw from the entrance doors Eren leaned back casually against the Uber he had offered to pay for. His attention immediately focused on your form as you exited your building, his gaze flickered all over your body.
“You look incredible,” Eren easily complimented, pushing himself up to stand straight. He leaned in to kiss your blushing cheek as you muttered a quiet ‘thank you’, and he pulled the door handle of the sleek black car, ushering you inside. He slammed it closed after you had positioned yourself comfortably, giving the driver a soft greeting as Eren circled around the back, getting in on the opposite side. The directions were already plugged into the driver’s GPS, and it took less than twenty minutes to get to the restaurant in question.
This gave you enough time to take in Eren’s appearance, and damn if you wouldn’t have allowed yourself to do so, the sight practically mouth watering. His hair hung low in a messy bun, a few complementary strands hanging out to frame his sharp jawline. His torso was adorned in a sheer white long sleeve button up, a small portion of his chest revealed as he had left the top buttons alone, chains hanging against his collarbones, silver in color this time. Black slacks that tightened around his thighs and calves had you biting your lip in appreciation, his legs spread as he took up space in the backseat.
“Staring isn’t very polite,” he had leaned in, taking notice of your devouring gaze.
“Stop dressing like a whore and maybe I won’t stare,” you teased back, chuckling quietly when he swatted your exposed thigh lightly. He kept his hand there for the rest of the drive, enjoying the comfortable silence as the quiet hum of the radio filled in the gaps.
When the Uber had slowed to a stop outside of the fancy restaurant Eren had insisted taking you to, he swung the door open before you had a chance to reach for the handle on your side. He raced to the other side of the car, pulling open the door and extending his hand out for you to grasp onto. You circled your fingers around his palm, and he tightened his grasp as you swung your legs over the flooring, and stood before him. The two of you thanked the driver, and he sped away shortly after. Hand still locked in with yours, Eren led the way inside the opened doors of the restaurant. Inside, a hostess wearing a very classy black uniform greeted the two of you.
“Reservation for Eren,” he spoke smoothly, and your eyes widened in surprise, expecting to have sat and waited for at least a half an hour before you had been seated.
“Right this way,” she smiled politely, two menus in her hands as she welcomed you into the dining area. You followed behind Eren, realizing that this place must’ve been a lot more expensive than you originally had gauged. All the guests appeared in their very best formal attire, and the chatter was soft as the beautiful notes of a piano resounded throughout the space. While you couldn’t pinpoint exactly where the music was coming from, you had a strong feeling that there was a physical player somewhere in the midst, it sounded so clear and professional. When the hostess had sat you down in a booth secluded against the furthest set wall, she smiled politely once more and informed you that the waiter would be with you soon.
“Eren,” you hissed as you sat opposite of his smirking form. “This place is stupid fancy!”
“Don’t worry about it,” he waved easily. “I got it, I promise.”
“How are you able to afford this? I’ve got a little bit of money and even I couldn’t go some place this nice,” you questioned, feeling a small pang of guilt. He was going to go broke trying to treat you to a very nice, albeit expensive, meal.
“My dad is a doctor,” he shrugged, picking up the menu and eyeing over their drink selection. “He sends me money whenever I come around and help around his office.”
“Following in the family footsteps?” you tried at the conversation, realizing you virtually knew nothing about the boy in front of you.
“Nah, I’m more into the business side of things,” he smiled up at you then, showing off his pearly white teeth. “What about you? What are you majoring in?”
You spoke of your major, Eren carefully listening in of your passions and your goals for your future ahead. He was pleased to hear that you were ambitious, smiling as he was enamored by your speech. Not that he minded a single bit about your online job, but to hear that you had a legitimate career goal soothed his worries.
A finely dressed waiter greeted you shortly, introducing himself and taking the both of your orders in one go, and stole away the menus. The rest of the date flew by quickly, tipsy from your cocktails and full of giggles as the two of you got to know one another. Although Eren was already knowledgeable about a number of your likes and dislikes and personality quirks due to Instagram, you had the undisguisable pleasure of learning his right then and there.
“So,” you leaned your elbows onto the table, resting your chin atop of your closed fists. “Tell me, how many girls have you taken here before?”
“Not a single one,” he chuckled lowly, passing the black booklet encasing his credit card as the waiter stopped at the table. “This is actually my first time taking anyone out somewhere so fancy. Usually I just hang out at the more lowkey spots around campus.”
“I would’ve been totally okay with going somewhere like that instead,” you frowned, that same guilt flooding back to your stomach. Eren hadn’t even let you see the bill before he had given it away, so you were completely ignorant as far as how far the total rang up. “You really didn’t have to take me out to such an expensive place.”
He rolled his eyes playfully, smirking as he did so, “Had to take my favorite girl somewhere nice, show you off in that gorgeous dress of yours.”
You blushed, moving your fists to hold your cheeks to try and contain the heat, “Fine, but next time, I want to see one of these ‘lowkey spots’.”
“Next time, huh?” Eren mused cockily.
“Yes, I guess I had a really great time tonight, consider yourself honored,” you giggled half heartedly.
“Oh believe me, I do.”
Eren had walked you to the front door of your apartment like the gentleman he was. Really, he was just trying to procrastinate leaving you, not wanting the night to be over with quite yet. Luckily, you were on the exact same page as he stood awkwardly behind you while you unlocked your front door.
You turned, an eyebrow raised, “Well? Are you coming in or what?”
“Say less,” he sighed in relief, following your sauntering frame inside your apartment. He was initially impressed as you flicked the light switch on the wall up, illuminating your precious space. Very clean and organized, he felt a pang of jealousy, knowing his own dorm room was scattered with clothes and empty water bottles. If he had only seen what your living space looked like before you had straightened up, he might have felt better about himself.
“I have some róse in the fridge,” you offered, making your way to the kitchen. “Would you like a glass?”
“No lie, that’s literally my favorite wine,” Eren groaned. “How are you this perfect?”
You laughed loudly, grabbing two wine glasses from your cabinet, opening your fridge and retrieving the bottle. Filling the glasses generously, you left the bottle on your kitchen counter and turned around, Eren a lot closer than where you had left him a moment ago. You extended his cup, which he graciously took and sipped. You mirrored him, gulping down your own mouthful.
“Y’know,” he started, gazing around your kitchen space. “For all that talk of mimosas in your Instagram bio, I really expected there to be a lot more pictures of you drinking them.”
You chuckled once again, “Believe me, I have plenty of orange juice, vodka, and champagne here. We had such a classy dinner, I thought I’d try and match it with some wine. Besides, vodka brings out the worst in me.”
“Ah, lady in the streets, freak in the sheets,” he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. You rolled your eyes, swatting his bicep harmlessly. “I get what you’re about at brunch with the girls.”
“If I had a nickel for every time Mikasa had to peel me and Sasha off the pavement after mimosas and scones, I’d be fucking rich,” you giggled once again, raising the glass to your lips.
“I’m really surprised we hadn’t met each other before last night, especially because Mikasa and I have been best friends since we were little,” Eren raised an eyebrow. “She’s basically my sister, and never once did she say anything about you, I only met Sasha because Connie’s attached to her hip and they share the same brain cell.”
“If it makes you feel better, I only knew Jean existed because we had a class together this semester,” you shrugged, purposefully leaving out the part where he consumed your content almost as much as Eren did.
“And of course me,” Eren smirked cheekily. “Because I’m your favorite viewer, like you said.”
“Don’t make me regret telling you that,” you pointed your glass towards him in a fake threat.
“It’s okay, you’re my favorite girl, so it evens itself out,” Eren placed his half drunk glass on the counter top, his gaze much more seductive. “Besides, you wore my necklace like I asked, I gotta tease you a little bit.”
“I wore pretty much everything you wanted me to,” you smirked, copying his actions and settling your own cup down.
“Did you now?” he took long strides to stand in front of you, toying with the necklace that he had laid claim over.
“I can show you, if you want to see,” you leaned up with full intentions of capturing his kiss.
“There’s nothing else I would rather do, pretty girl,” Eren cooed, licking his lips before meeting you in the middle. His arms circled around your waist, your hands wrapped around his shoulders as the pace started out slowly. Gentle was not what either of you wanted though, the desperation seeping in fast as his fingers explored your sides.
“Bedroom,” you gasped as he removed his lips and attached them to your jaw. He had no qualms of fucking you right out here in the kitchen, so he made no effort to move. Realizing you had to take the reins, you moved backwards from Eren, smirking as he groaned from the sudden distance. His eyes followed you predatorily as he began to chase after you, your back meeting the wooden paneling of your bedroom door. He attempted to recapture your mouth, but your hand was faster in turning the door knob, and you began to lead him back until your mattress met the backs of your knees.
“Want you to show me what you’re wearing under that dress,” Eren demanded, playing with the short hem that rested on your thighs.
You nodded, giving him the silent okay to take off the fabric encompassing your frame. You turned so your back faced him, moving your hair out of the way so he could unzip the back. His eyes followed as he fingered the silver zipper, agonizingly teasing himself as more and more was revealed to him. Seeing the straps of the black lace he had requested drunkenly the night before, his patience snapped as he pulled the metal piece down faster. You slid the tiny straps off your shoulders at the sweet feeling of release, and Eren’s dick was rock fucking solid as it pooled around your feet, you kicked the silky fabric to the side and faced him once more.
“You’re wearing everything I told you to,” he stated, drinking in the sight of your scantily clad body. “Good girl.”
You bit back an embarrassing moan at his praise, feeling the heat pool between your thighs. It came as such a shock to you to be so reactive to his words, and it came slamming into you that maybe you weren’t as vanilla as you had previously believed. You had a kink! It all made so much sense, why you felt such pride and arousal from complete strangers giving you their attention and compliments online. You yearned for it, craved the affections, and now that Eren stood in front of you, more than willing to shower you with pretty words, all the moisture in your mouth dried up. You wanted him so fucking bad.
Eren’s hands met the naked skin of your waist as his palms etched over your soft stomach. They met in the middle of your back, leaning your back onto the mattress as he climbed on top of you, a single hand coming up to work on discarding his button up. You rushed to help, pads of your fingers working the buttons open until he revealed his bare chest, his chains hanging above you. He worked his arms out quickly, tossing the fabric onto the floor. He brought his lips to yours, this kiss much more desperate and needy than the previous ones. His hands explored every inch of your body, the tops of your thighs to the swell of your breasts. He tugged on the soft lace at the top, slowly bringing the black fabric down to expose the complete fullness of your breasts. A sight familiar yet somehow new made Eren groan, the pads of his thumbs brushing against your pretty nipples, instantly hardening them.
You moaned lightly, throwing your head back and arching your back into his touch. How many times had Eren pictured you just like this?
“I fucked my fist so many fucking times thinking about you,” he confessed as he pressed slow open mouthed kisses to your collarbone. “You have no idea what your pictures did to me, no idea what you’re doing to me right now.”
He leaned his bottom half forward, pressing his thick clothed erection into the meat of your thigh. You let out a whimper, head foggy as his words made your pussy clench around nothing.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” he licked a stripe up your neck, leaving a wet saliva trail as he wrapped his lips around where he could feel your pulse the strongest. “My pretty girl.”
While Eren wanted to talk about what you did to him, all you could think about was what he was doing to you. The want and need that coursed through your veins was like a drug, you could feel him worming his way into your bloodstream, straight to the center of your heart and out to the warmest parts of your body. And you felt like an addict in that moment too, and every moment you would spend with Eren there after. You could feel his kisses as if he was underneath your skin, his entire body pressed against yours. So, so close, yet not close enough.
“Take off your pants,” you demanded shakily, placing your hands at the button of his slacks. He seemed to be on the same page of you yet again, and he followed his instructions without delay. He kicked out of the tight pants with ease, and you were more than pleased to see he had rid himself of his boxers too when you heard the thick slap of his cock meeting his stomach.
“Oh my god,” you breathed, eyes widened. “Eren, that’s not going to fit.”
“Don’t worry,” he soothed your hair back from your face, pressing a sweet kiss to the tip of your nose. “I’ll make sure you’re nice and wet for me.”
He started to move south, licking and giving attention to your right nipple as he did so. While the idea of him giving you thorough attention was erotic, you really wanted to please him for your first time together, unknown to you as Eren had thought the exact same thing, wanting to make you feel so good you’d come crawling back to him for more.
You pushed yourself up into a seating position, Eren’s eyes flickering in confusion as you stood up. This look didn’t last for long as you switched positions, pushing his torso onto the bed as you rested atop of him, feet placed firmly on the ground. His mouth hung open in disbelief as you began to return his assault on his neck, sucking and kissing and even biting along the columns. He let out a shaky groan, unable to hold it back as your hands traveled down his chest to his abdomen, feeling over the muscles there.
“What’re you doing, princess?” Eren questioned teasingly, not trying to get his hopes up on what your plan seemed to be.
“Wanna’ make you feel good,” your eyes flickered up to meet the dark green of his eyes, watching as his pupils expanded as the realization hit him like a brick.
“Fuck, okay,” Eren subconsciously widened his thighs then, bringing himself up to lean on his elbows as your kisses followed shortly behind the trail of your fingers.
Your mouth met the defined muscle of his stomach, and your eyes drifted up to catch Eren’s reaction as you neared closer to his aching cock. His eyes were hardened on you, brows knitted together, he almost looked angry. You kitten licked above his navel, and knew the anger was superficial as he threw his head back, letting out a quiet groan. You leaned your body in closer, pushing your exposed chest against his length. He whipped his head forward again at the contact, his lips opened as he inhaled shaky breaths.
Part of you had kind of wanted to hear Eren beg for your mouth, but the thought had quickly left your head as he entangled his fingers into the back of your scalp, massaging gently as he did so. Without a moment of hesitation, you lowered your face so you were eye to eye with his thick shaft. Honestly, you really hadn’t expected Eren to be this big. You had caught a glimpse of his half erect member tenting in his pants the night before, but as it stood to full attention, you were very much intimidated by the sheer size. You gulped, putting on a brace face as you continued on.
The sound of Eren’s groans growing louder as you licked a bold stripe from the bottom of his base to the tip of his head had stirred your cunt deeply. You were on your knees now, feet tucked up under you when you felt the wet patch of your panties touch the back of your heels. You licked a few more times, your right hand trailing down from his stomach to grip him more upright. You pulled all the saliva in your mouth onto your tongue, and wrapped your lips around his tip while your hand secured a purposeful grip at his base. You started slow, only sucking in your cheeks and moving your tongue along the underside of his head, pumping him at the same pace. You could feel beads of spit meet your knuckles, circling your tongue around the entirety of his fat mushroom tip. You smoothly licked along his slit, collecting his gushing precum and tasting the salty liquid.
Meanwhile as you had just started your worship of his cock, Eren was watching you in disbelief as your eyelashes fluttered along your cheeks, mouth prepping yourself to take in his full length. He had pulled himself into a sitting position now to provide you the best angle he could. He was in complete awe, furrowing eyebrows and his mouth hanging open, he knew in that moment there was absolutely no point of return. He would follow you from here on out, whether it be online or in reality, wherever you would go. Soulmates, he reminded himself while he collected your hair into his fist and away from your mouth. You were his fucking soulmate.
You pressed your knees upward, eyes opening. Eren’s pupils were blown out, his breathing irregular, and you wanted to watch him completely unfold as you angled your head to drop lower onto his shaft, hand working just a little faster.
“Fuck —“ he stuttered, eyes blazing into yours. “That’s it, take all of me, you’re such a good girl.”
You moaned lightly at his praise once again, and Eren’s cock hit the back of your throat. You pulled your lips up slowly, tongue caressing the underside of his member the entire time, and quickly brought your unoccupied hand into a fist. This was the first time you would be trying out this trick, reading it in a magazine since your gag reflex was very strong and this helped soothe the impulse. Eren was not prepared in the slightest as you removed the hand gripping him, letting his dick fall forward a bit more. You took a deep breathe through your nose, spit coating his entire cock now, and pushed your mouth fast back down his shaft.
Eren let out a strangled gasp when your nose brushed against his pelvis, “Holy fucking — fuck. Shit, yeah, just like that. You look so fucking pretty right now.”
Tears were threatening the spill over your lash line and you bobbed your head furiously, taking in as much as you could before you gagged. You stared up at him the entire time, watching his face screw together as you lapped and sucked his cock. Your jaw was aching already from his size, minding your teeth placement as you quickened your pace. You returned your hand to wrap and pump whatever your mouth wasn’t able to reach as you set yourself into a more comfortable pattern. Your other hand cupped his balls, swirling them softly in your palms.
Eren’s fingers yanked you back, his dick falling out of your lips in a soft pop, as you looked up in confusion, “Gonna’ stop you there baby, gonna’ make me cum.”
His hand in your hair guided you back up to his lips, and Eren could taste himself as his tongue pushed through your swollen mouth to enter yours. You moaned into the kiss, so sloppy and messy, you took no notice of Eren’s hands wiping away the leftover dribble on your chin. He yanked you back, a bit rougher this time, and you panted, rubbing your thighs together at the force. He eyed you up, your beautiful tits still on display, the fabric of your lace bra folded underneath them.
“Get naked for me, princess,” he cooed, untangling his fingers from your scalp. You did as you were told, practically ripping the lace set off your body as you soon stood stark naked in front of Eren. He pushed his legs up, joining you. You felt very small then as he towered above you, playing with the tips of your hair, he guided you around until you were forced to lay yourself flat on your back on the mattress once again.
Eren caressed your shins as he stood tall in front of you, never breaking eye contact. You could still see the glistening of your saliva on his cock, and heat continued to pool in between your thighs in anticipation of his next move.
“Look at you,” he whispered, wrapping his fingers on the tops of your bent knees, legs closed together. “So pretty, it almost hurts to look at you.”
His darkened eyes shot down, drinking you all in before settling on your closed legs. With his hands, he gently forced them to part, and he let out a quiet moan at the sight in front of him. Dripping in arousal, almost sparkling and shining like the gem you were, your pussy spread open for him, begging for his attention. His gaze darted up back to your face, trying not to get too carried away as he admired your beautiful body.
Eren let out a dark chuckle, stroking his hands to the meat of your thighs, “You have no idea the things I have planned for us, princess.”
You whimpered, unable to voice a single word. His right hand moved towards your center, and you gasped sharply as he gently grazed your folds with the lightest of touches. His thumb landed a hair above your clit, and you squirmed, desperate now. He circled so slowly on your pearl, gazing on with an inflated ego. Eren wanted you to beg for him, to tell you all about those ideas he had going on in his head while he fucked his fingers into you.
He decided to go easy on you though, you had plenty of time ahead of you to learn exactly what he wanted when it came to the bedroom, he cooed, “I’m gonna’ show you off, just like you deserve. Gonna’ buy you pretty things, treat you like the fucking princess you are — gonna’ be my pretty girl.”
“Please, Eren,” you whimpered, attempting to push your pelvis into his hand, failing miserably as his other one gripped your thigh in place. “I need you.”
“Tell me exactly what you need, baby,” Eren smirked.
“Everything,” you breathed out. “I want you to keep calling me pretty, wan’ you to fuck me.”
“We’ll get to that part soon,” he paused, lowering his head to your inner thigh, getting to his knees on the floor. “Just need to make you feel good first, pretty girl.”
Eren licked a bold stripe up your pussy as you mewled, feeling a shred of relief as the tip of his tongue circled your clit. You felt a bead of saliva, probably mixed in with your own arousal, travel down the seam of your ass. Eren was starving, and you tasted so delicious, a sweet tart flavor exploding across his taste buds. He flattened his tongue, and looked up to watch your gorgeous face as his lips engulfed your clit.
You threw your head back, eyes rolling into the back of your skull as you attached your hands to your breasts, pulling and tugging on your nipples. He positioned his hands to the back of your thighs then, somehow managing to spread you open even more. The sounds he made in between your folds were wet and sloppy, and he rubbed small circles with the pads of his thumbs into the creases where your legs met your ass.
He never broke away from your face, watching everything unfold before him. Now that you were free from his solidifying grip, your hips were rolling. He watched your ribs expand and fall as you moaned unabashedly, rubbing your cunt into his mouth. Eren had never seen a more beautiful sight, and suddenly, it wasn’t enough to satisfy him. His right hand itched closer to your opening, and you trembled at the prodding of his index fingers. His tongue flopped around sloppily, slurping your bud in between his lips as he entered you slowly, cock pulsing at the feeling of your slick velvety walls greeting his finger.
Here he was, on his knees before you, eyes heavy and swirling because of you. You arched your back as he pumped the single digit in you slowly at first. He felt the tight clench of your walls as his tongue flicked at a certain angle, pleased that he had discovered very quickly how he was going to get you to cum. Eren was impatient, and as much as he wanted to stay between the heat of your thighs for hours if you’d let him, he really needed that orgasm from you. The tip of his pointer finger left you briefly, and you whimpered at the sudden loss, quickly becoming breathless and he slammed it right back in alongside his middle finger. They curled inside of you, brushing right against the soft spongy wall that was your g-spot. You were gushing for him, the sloppy noises of his assaults resounding around the bedroom.
“Fuck, fuck,” you panted, feeling your breasts bounce as he fucked his fingers into you at an alarming pace, tongue following the pattern eagerly. “Oh my god, I’m so close, Eren, I’m gonna’ cum.”
He pulled his mouth back momentarily, voice husky and pleading as he told you, “Cum for me, baby.”
You slammed your hips down onto his knuckles, feeling the underside of his palm and your slick. He had been reduced to curling and angling his fingers inside of you, watching in adoration and awe as you bounced yourself on his fingers, rubbing your pretty pussy against his mouth. Eren had just become a bystander at this point, he was pretty much forced to be stilled as you used his mouth and hands so greedily, feeling an unfamiliar swell in your cunt.
And when your back arched, and your walls clenched so fiercely tight around his drenched fingers, Eren found his forever love. He’d do anything, be anyone, whatever the fuck that was asked of him, to see this sight for the rest of his life. You were vibrating, legs shaking so strongly, Eren had to mentally catch up when he felt a gush of hot liquid soak him. He shifted his gaze down in shock, and holy shit, you were squirting.
You swore you had never orgasmed like this before, it was more than stars you were seeing behind your closed eyelids. It was pure black, absolute nothingness as your brain short circuited. It was like your pussy was taking a deep breath, because when the onset of contractions hit you, you thought you were going to pass out. And poor Eren, who stared dumbly in front of him at how intense your muscles were flexing, was already so deeply in love with you and was confessing his eternal devotion to you in his mind.
When your cunt had settled down, and your hips relented in pushing yourself against Eren’s face and hands, you let out a low moan as he slid his drenched fingers out of you. He stared at his hand, shining with your cum, and flickered his gaze up to you.
“I’m going to fucking marry you,” he growled. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever fucking seen.”
You let out an exhausted laugh, “Would you believe me if I told you that was the first time I’ve ever squirted?”
“I’m buying you a goddamn ring tomorrow,” he placed a kiss to your inner thigh, moving his body up to hover above you. Eren’s hands wrapped around your thighs once again, propping your knees to your chest. He saw the slight trace of fear in your eyes, and he paused, “You okay?”
“It’s just,” you gazed at the point between your bodies. “Are you gonna’ fit?”
Eren leaned forward, feeling slightly relieved, his face still dripping in your essence, and he placed a sweet, romantic kiss to your lips, pulling away to murmur, “I’ll be gentle, I promise.”
You nodded your head, letting the worry roll off your body as one of his hands caressed your cheek, never breaking eye contact with him. The other hand reached in between your centers, grabbing his throbbing cock and sliding himself along your pussy. He was soon coated in your juices, and both of you were letting out quiet moans. As he sunk his tip into your entrance though, you were gasping loudly.
Eren really had wanted to be gentle, he had no intentions whatsoever of hurting you, but he had realized very quickly that you were going to be the one to set the pace in the relationship. Because as soon as half of his shaft was anchored in your heat, your hips slammed upwards to engulf his entire length. He bit back a yelp at the suddenness, fisting the sheets by your waist in a tight grip. If Eren didn’t feel like a virgin before, he sure as fuck did now.
You didn’t realize just how prepped that orgasm had made you, or how sensitive. What you had believed would’ve been pain was insurmountable and mind blowing pleasure, and you smiled in pride as Eren’s jaw fell open. You felt his hands fall from the underside of your thighs, and you took the opportunity, leveraging your legs, and thrusted upwards. Eren bottomed out inside of you, and you winced slightly at the mild pain of his tip meeting the wall of your cervix, the stretch of your walls accommodating him as you fluttered around him.
“You’re so big, Eren,” you moaned out, moving your hands to grasp his flexing biceps. “‘Feels so good.”
Eren was fighting an internal war — go as slow as physically possible as to not bust in your heavenly pussy in three strokes, or give you the best two minutes of your fucking life. Because it was absolutely all way too much, your gorgeous face, your soaked core, the way you gripped his cock so tightly. You were a vixen, Eren’s personal vices wrapped up in one human body. He couldn’t help but take notice of how perfectly your bodies fit together, your pussy made for him.
“Eren, move, please,” you whined, attempting to squirm your hips. He shot a hand down to your hip, stilling you as he gave you a warning glare.
“I’m trying really hard not to cum inside of you right now,” Eren groaned, finally moving his hips. “You’re so fucking tight, baby. Making it real hard for me right now.”
Little was Eren aware of your pussy still on edge from the mind blowing power of your first orgasm, and you mouth lolled open as he slowly fucked you. If you were to touch your clit, or have any type of pressure there right now, it would be over for you as well. You’d have all the time in the future to have long, drawn out sex with Eren, but the two of you were just way too turned on and aroused by each other to have anything but heavy and fast sex. With a slight hesitation on your end, also not wanting to cum so quickly around his length, you rocked your hips into his fastening pace.
Eren chose the latter of his two options then, feeling the ridges of your pussy pulse and flutter around his cock. He pulled all the way back, tip daring to fall out of your little hole, and he flung himself right back in to the hilt. He repeated this a few times, and you were trying your best to hold back screams. Eren was drooling at the sight of your pretty pink pussy taking him, sloppy and messy from his saliva and your cum. He brought his attention to your bouncing breasts, molding one into his palm, rolling the nipple in the center.
Eren’s thrusts quickened dramatically, and he knew that your warning from the previous night had been true. You were screaming, calling out his name and several swears and ‘oh my god’s. This only encouraged him more, ego pretty much stroking his own cock as he plunged into you at a dangerous pace. He knew he was going to fast approach his orgasm, but Eren wasn’t stupid either. He could feel the clench tightening around him as he fucked right into that pretty spot inside of you, the way your breathing changed after a few seconds of that. Eren would become your number one expert, knowing every tell tale sign of your body, and what you were feeling. From one orgasm, he knew how your breathing changed, and Eren was determined to take you to those heights again.
Keeping the flick of his hips at the slamming pace he was at, he brought his thumb to your swollen clit. At the impact, your eyes screwed closed over the overwhelming pleasure. You felt a twinge of pain, just so sensitive from how strong you came before, but didn’t stop Eren as he rolled your pearl in fast circles, putting delicate pressure on the very top. It took maybe three strokes of his cock and a slight unsteady irregularity in his pattern to get you right where he had wanted you — desperate to cum alongside him.
“I’m so close, Eren,” you moaned out, lower body buzzing in anticipation.
“I want you to cum on my cock,” he demanded, a shocked moan crawling out of his throat at the first clench. “Oh, fuck, good girl.”
You spasmed under him, eyebrows shooting up in a furrow as you arched your back uncontrollably, the wave of your second orgasm slamming into you like a train. You could hear the squelching of Eren fucking your pussy as you contracted around him, or as he tried to. It was pure ecstasy, a feeling of wholeness filling you entirely. Half way through your orgasm, he grabbed the base of his cock, sliding out of you as he pumped himself fast above you. You held your legs open, breathing heavily as Eren watched your muscles contract in astonishment. He had never made a girl cum like this before, so hard and so visually. Your beautiful face, eyes encouraging him to cum, was all he needed. His dick was covered in you, his fingers sticky and soaked. It was all so fucking sloppy, and the thought and sight of it all caught up to him.
You felt the hot ropes of cum hit your belly, moaning at the sight. Eren was fucking his fist, cock thrusting in his grip like he had been doing in your pussy. His head hung forward, eyes drinking in the entirety of you. He shot his load on your lower half, stroking himself down after a couple of minutes, breathing heavily.
He eyed the box of tissues on your nightstand, and grabbed a few, languidly wiping his cum off of your abdomen as the two of you tried to catch your breath, or bring a ration thought back into your minds.
“We just had porn star sex,” you giggled tiredly.
“Oh yes we fucking did,” Eren smirked. “Not to like hype you up or whatever, that was the best sex I’ve ever had.”
Your pride and ego swelled as he finished wiping up his cum, discarding the tissues in the bin on the floor. He hadn’t given you much time to respond, asking where the bathroom was so he could grab a rag to clean you up. You were humbled, affection rising in your chest when he returned to take care of your exhausted body. No one had bothered with aftercare before, and right then and there, you knew Eren was a keeper.
“Thank you,” you yawned out, stretching your legs in front of you. Eren hung around a little awkwardly, not sure of what to do. “You can spend the night, if you want to.”
He raised his eyebrows, a smile crossing his face, “Do you want me to?”
You rolled your eyes, pushing yourself back until your head met your pillows and lifted your comforter, gesturing for Eren to join you. And that he did, pouncing on the offer and sliding into bed with you, not hesitating for a second to wrap his muscular arms around your waist. He kissed you gently, pulling away to place his lips on your shoulder as you began to drift off.
You awoke alone in your bed, the bright rays of the sun hazy as you blinked the sleep away. You could smell and hear the sizzling of breakfast in your kitchen, your bedroom door swung wide open. You threw your legs over the mattress, stealing a quick look at yourself in the mirror. You cringed at the mascara stains under your eyes, taking a tissue and wiping underneath your lashes to look presentable enough for the man looming in your kitchen. You discarded the tissue, and slid on a pair of fresh panties and Eren’s enormous sweatshirt you had yet to return, and padded your bare feet across your floor to join him.
Eren’s back faced you, his form only clad in a pair of boxers as he focused his complete attention to the frying pans in front of him. You smirked, leaning against your counter, placing your chin in your open hands.
“Good morning, Chef Eren,” you teased, catching him off guard as he jumped a bit.
He turned to face you, hair a complete mess as a boyish smile graced his face, “Morning, princess. I hope you don’t mind my mess.”
“It smells amazing, so I guess I can figure out a way to forgive you,” you sighed dramatically. “Only if there’s coffee involved, though.”
“Way ahead of you,” he moved his legs over to your coffee machine, a pair of steaming muga awaiting his hand. He grabbed one, a plain white mug that matched the rest of your kitchen set, and set it on the counter in front of you.
“If you’re trying to earn extra credit, it’s working,” you said, dumbstriken.
“Gotta’ show you I’m boyfriend material,” he wagged his eyebrows, turning back to the frying pan before cutting the heat off. “I couldn’t find your plates, though.”
“Cabinet above the sink,” you directed, pulling out a stool from underneath your kitchen bar. “Forks and stuff are in the drawer by the refrigerator.”
Eren nodded, collecting two plates and the necessary utensils from their designated areas. The sight of eggs and bacon made your mouth water, and you were about to get a key made specifically for Eren to waltz in every morning to cook you this glorious meal every single day. You thanked him as he set your plate in front of you, and you dug in.
“Eren, it’s so good,” you complimented after chewing. “You really know how to treat a girl.”
He simply laughed, and the two of you fell into a pleasant conversation. And then by the time mid day rolled around, the two of you had talked all about where you’d be spending the evening. The night had ended just like the one before in mind blowing sex, the morning after repeating itself, and again, and again.
A month later, you had updated your Instagram bio. ‘Connoisseur of mimosas, rock and roll, and Eren Jaeger’. And when it had come time to update your OnlyFans content, you were more than happy to have your own personal photographer to use at your discretion. Just as long as you continued to wear his necklace, Eren would take as many pictures as you needed him to, knowing you’d end up in each other’s beds at the end of the session anyways. And he’d continue to follow you, this time though, you’d gladly send him his favorite pictures for free.
LACHERI © 2021: all writing content belongs to LACHERI. I do not allow reposts or translations. this is my only account.
#eren x reader#eren jaeger#eren yaeger#attack on titan#shingeki no kyoujin eren#eren smut#eren fluff#eren fanfiction#attack on titan eren#aot eren#eren jeager x reader#eren jaeger x y/n#eren yaeger x reader#eren fic
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meet the weasleys — george weasley
pairing: george weasley x female!reader
summary: george takes reader to meet his family.
requests are closed for now. please refrain from plagiarizing my work!
"I’m nervous."
"Well, don't be."
"Thank you, George. That somehow just alleviated all of my worries."
George snickers and squeezes her hand in reassurance. “Just relax. My family doesn't bite—or, well, Ron used to, but that was back when he was, what, five? And besides, you already know him, and he's never bit you before, has he?"
"Not helping."
"And you've met most of my family already."
“I haven't met your mum. Or your dad. Or Bill and Charlie,” she argues, eyes worriedly darting from George’s own to the wooden door in front of them.
George laughs again. His eyes don’t fail to catch onto the way she’s frantically tapping her foot against the ground, how she keeps worrying at her bottom lip. The sight has him grinning widely; he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t horribly endeared.
“Listen,” he says, removing his fingers from her own in favor of turning her around to face him. George’s hands go to her neck, cradling the sides of her cheeks. “They’re going to love you. And if they don’t—well, I can always find a different family.”
”George,” she sighs.
”Only joking,” he grins, and leans in to press a very brief kiss to the tip of her nose. “But I mean it. They’ll adore you. Possibly even more than I do, although that’s up for debate.”
She lets out a long breath, pursing her lips together in a feeble attempt at a smile, but George commends her for trying. He drops his hands back to his sides and laces his fingers through her own again, turning to face the door like they’re about to venture into some sort of grand adventure and not into his family’s living room—and George is about to twist open the knob, until [Y/N] goes, “Wait.”
He glances at her. Her eyes are wide and the look on her face still so uncertain. Sucking in a breath through her teeth, she asks him, “How do I look?”
The grin on George’s face is so impossibly wide. “Like a billion galleons,” he tells her. Just because he can’t resist the urge, he swoops down to press one more chaste kiss to her lips. And then finally, he twists the knob.
The moment George steps foot through the door, he’s immediately enveloped by the wafting scent of something being cooked on the stove. It smells familiar, like he should know what it is, but George has never been much of a chef. But he recognizes the sounds—the voices—coming from the kitchen despite all of them mingling together to form one raucous chorus of chatter. He knows exactly which voice belongs to who—knows that the loud shriek is his mum reprimanding one of them, knows that the sound of someone whining is very likely Ron. That laugh is Bill’s, too, mingled with Fred’s voice. George just knows, automatically, without even having to think about it. George knows, too, without looking down on the “welcome” mat in front of the door, that there are going to be muddy boots on top it—and there they are. He steps around them. George knows that there is going to be a quilt magically knitting itself together on the couch without even having to look at it—and there it is.
And just like that, he knows he’s home.
Something about having [Y/N] in the vicinity of a place so important to him—a place that’s part of him—has his heart feeling full. He pauses for a moment in the doorway, taking it all in, but he’s snapped out of his brief spell of inexplicable happiness when his father comes lumbering out of the door leading to the kitchen.
“George!” his dad exclaims loudly, and just like that all chatter from the room behind him ceases (“They’re here?!” he hears his mother panic). “We didn’t hear you come in!”
”Likely because mum was too busy screaming,” George grins, and walks forward to envelop his father in a hug.
”Ah, yes—Fred arrived half an hour ago and terrified Ron out of his wits with some sort of fake—no, actually, nevermind that! This must be [Y/N].”
Arthur’s eyes have landed on her, and George actually has to give her a little nudge for her to say something. Her eyes widen like she’s surprised at being addressed (as though the entire point of this gathering hadn’t been to get to introduce her), but then her lips break out into a smile and she steps forward to shake his father’s outstretched hand.
”It’s really nice to meet you,” she says, eyes crinkling at the edges. George stands to the side watching the scene unfold, feeling oddly proud.
”Yes, of course!” Arthur nods with remarkable enthusiasm, smiling just as wide. “I’ve heard so many wonderful things about you! You’re Muggle-born, correct?”
She lets out a tinkling laugh. “Yes, that’s right.”
”Brilliant!” he claps his hands together—but George knows exactly where this is going, so he cuts his father off and says, “I think we can address the function of a rubber duck later over dinner, dad.”
Arthur pauses, seemingly dejected, but then gathers himself and nods. “Oh, right, well, I suppose—“
”[Y/N]!”
And there’s George’s mum, Molly, coming from the kitchen, hurriedly pulling off her oven mitts to rush straight towards [Y/N] and envelop her in a big, warm hug. “Oh!” [Y/N] exclaims, obviously taken a bit by surprise given that the two of them have never met before, but eventually she breaks out into light laughs and hugs her back. [Y/N] meets George’s gaze over Molly’s shoulder; he gives her this encouraging sort of smile, and then jokingly complains, ”Blimey. S’pose I’m not missed here anymore.”
”Oh, quiet, you!” Molly frets, waving a dismissive hand in the air (George laughs) and then pulling away from [Y/N] to grip her by the arms and gush, “You’re far prettier than I could have ever imagined!”
[Y/N] flushes a shade of vibrant pink. “Oh, no—but thank you—“
”Have you gotten your vision checked lately, [Y/N]?” It’s Fred, leaning on the kitchen doorframe with a toy snake dangling from his hand. “Or do you really want to be with Georgey despite his baffling similarities to a mountain troll?"
”We’re twins, you prat.” George smacks the back of Fred’s head.
“Ah, right.” Fred is grinning despite having received a blow to the head. “It’s lovely seeing you, future-sister-in-law.”
Fred and [Y/N] have known each other just as long as she and George have, having gone to Hogwarts at the same time all those years ago. All three of them had bonded over their mutual love for pranks, although [Y/N] had always been their babysitter of sorts—the one who made sure none of their jokes went too far out of line. George loved her for it; loved how considerate and gentle she was despite her undeniable mischief. But he’d only really gotten himself to tell her after the war; one brief visit of hers to the joke shop turned into two, and then three, and then suddenly [Y/N] was always hanging around somewhere in Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, helping the business run along. It was Fred who convinced George, only six months ago, to confess his admiration for her after five years of holding himself back.
After the war, George had all the time in the world to take as many risks as he could. So he told her—and now here they are: [Y/N] ruffling Fred’s hair fondly, George trying to fend off his mother’s hands trying to fix his hair (“don’t you think you need a haircut, sweetie?”), and Ron making his grand entrance from behind Fred.
”Ron!” [Y/N] exclaims, catching sight of him, and then jokingly she adds, “I haven’t seen you in ages—last time I saw you you were the size of a Pygmy Puff.”
Ron scoffs out a laugh. “You’re only two years older than me, you know,” he huffs, but lets her hug him, anyway.
Brief introductions are made as Bill and Charlie enter the room. George watches as [Y/N] shakes their hands—Charlie hugs her, as he’s always been big on affection—and just like that George knows that she’s won all of them over, the way she’d done to him. The way she still does to him, after all this time.
Five minutes later they're being ushered into the garden behind the Burrow, where a long wooden table has been set up. There are golden streamers draped all around the bushes and hanging from the branches of trees, but that's hardly what captures George and [Y/N]'s attention first because at the very end of the long table, a large banner is floating in mid-air: one that says "WELCOME TO THE FAMILY!" in glittering silver letters.
George doesn't miss the look on [Y/N]'s face when she sees this; her eyes almost seem to well up with tears, and despite the picture-perfect setting in front of him—despite the golden streamers and the balloons and the faerie lights hanging in mid-air—it's that look on [Y/N]'s face that has his breath catching in his throat and his heart doing odd little double-takes inside his chest.
He loves her, he realizes. It’s nothing new—shouldn't be anything new to him, as he's known it for quite a while now—but still there are moments like this one where he pauses and has to take a while to let it sink in; the fact that the woman next to him, whose smile reminds him of every single happy moment he has ever lived through, loves him just as much as he loves her.
Knowing that is absolutely surreal.
"We didn't expect you to arrive so early!" Molly says, obviously harried as she passes by them bearing a cauldron of steaming soup. “The cookies are still baking—and [Y/N], honey, I sent Ginny upstairs to go fetch your sweater, she should be down any time soon—Ron, Fred, will you stop that!”
The two, who had been wrestling with the toy snake Fred held in his hands earlier, immediately drop their hands to their sides. “T’was Fred who started it,” grumbles Ron.
”And I plan on ending it!” Fred emits some sort of war-cry, but stops when he spots the look on his mother’s face. “Kidding, mum.”
—
It takes a good half-hour or so before the last of the dishes are finally set on the table and everyone is seated. There’s food of all sorts in front of them—treacle tarts, cakes, pudding, pie—and [Y/N], who initially thought she’d feel too nervous to eat anything, eats with ease. Like everyone else around the table, she’s wearing a fuzzy red sweater with her initial sewn in front; a gift to her from Molly. The moment she’d laid eyes on it she knew it was her favorite thing in the entire world.
She tells this to George, who raises his eyebrows and replies snarkily, “I’m gonna have to ask for you to return the necklace I gave you, then.”
”Oh, sod off,” she laughs, rolling her eyes, but she lets him spoon pie into her mouth.
“Gah, get a room!” complains Fred.
”It’s not like they’re snogging,” says Charlie.
”Would you like us to?” grins George, earning him a slap to the shoulder from [Y/N].
”There are children here, George,” she scolds.
”You’re only two years older!” protests Ron.
No one really notices, but the sun has long since sunken below the horizon. Everyone around the table is immersed in chatter; Ron, for example, has been roped into a passionate debate with Fred and George about the true purpose of Pygmy Puffs. (“They only exist to ask for food and jump around and make annoying little noises!” says Ron, to which George responds with, “That sounds like you, Ron.”) [Y/N], meanwhile, is offering an explanation to Arthur about the rubber duck.
“They don’t do much of anything, really. They float and squirt and sometimes they make noises.”
But Arthur looks disappointed, as though he’d been expecting something much more grand. So [Y/N], not wanting to bring down his mood, decides to add, ”I believe they’re also used to keep—um—Grindylows away from your bathwater.”
Mr. Weasley positively beams with joy. “Is that right? I told you, Molly, rubber ducks are magnificent little things!”
Molly gives her husband an exasperated look, but it disappears the moment she turns to [Y/N]. “We’re so glad to have you here, sweetie,” she tells her, reaching over the table to grasp her hand and offering her the most motherly smile [Y/N] has ever seen. “We’ve heard so many good things about you. George speaks so very highly of you—and he was right, you really are perfect for him!"
[Y/N] flushes, smiling. “Thank you, Mrs. Weasley.”
”Oh, no, no, call me Molly,” she laughs, waving a hand in the air. “You’re part of the family now, dear. No need for formalities.”
And [Y/N] does feel like it—like she’s part of this table. This family. Not just the girlfriend of one of their sons but someone who actually belongs.
It’s odd, in a magical sort of way, how all of their random conversations blend together to form one harmonious burst of chatter, how everything and everyone in that table just works. Like puzzle pieces from different sets, she thinks to herself. And they shouldn't fit, but they do.
So this is home for George. This is the place he grew up in. This is where his heart lives.
She can't help the way her eyes stray to him every now and then, noting the sheer joy reflected in his eyes, the way the smile on his lips never really goes away. How, even when Ron flicks a strawberry at his face—even when George threatens to send a whole army of pygmy puffs after him—there's still that joyful glint in his eyes.
With the end of winter right around the corner, surrounded by the family that has welcomed her with open arms, holding the hand of her very favorite person underneath table, fireflies flitting around above them as laughter echoes around the table: [Y/N] feels safe. Happy.
So this is home.
—
The next morning, [Y/N] and George find themselves walking along the edge of the woods where meadow rues grow, a little ways away from the Burrow. They walk unhurried, the soles of their feet swishing against the blades of grass with each step, hands hanging loosely intertwined between them.
They’d woken up before anyone else, when the sun had just barely begun to rise. George had told her to "Get up, I want to take you somewhere" and admittedly she'd whined a little, claiming to need five more minutes of sleep, but George, laughing, threw her over his shoulder and threatened to carry her all the way there if she didn't oblige.
But now, she's glad she came with.
At one point she stops walking, lifts her face to the sky and closes her eyes against the warmth of the sun, taking a deep breath and soaking in everything that the morning wants to bring her. George watches her without question, a fond little smile already tugging on the edges of his lips without him even realizing. [Y/N] is beautiful in the sunlight—or any light at all, actually. George isn't entirely convinced someone like her—someone so breathtakingly beautiful and gentle and patient—would want someone like him. But when he tugs on her hand, turning her around to face him, and when he cups her jaw and guides her closer to press their mouths together, she lets him. She doesn't even think about it. Just melts into him like it's the only thing she knows how to do.
And then she pulls back slightly but stays close, runs a palm down the length of George’s arm and links their fingers together.
"It’s not much," he tells her, voice uncharacteristically quiet. A little unsure. "But it's home." Because, now that the excitement from yesterday has faded, George knows what his house could look like to someone who hasn't lived there all their life—knows that it looks messy, like pieces of it were thrown together haphazardly. It’s not a manor. Nothing like the kind of houses you see featured on Witch Weekly. He knows that [Y/N] isn't the type to care, but still—
"I love it," she pulls away, throwing her head back in an actual laugh—the kind that reminds George of everything good in the world. "I love this place, George. And your brothers and Ginny and your parents. Yesterday was.." she pauses, calming down a little, taking in a deep breath as she squeezes his hand in her own. "It was magical."
Quietly, with her eyes skittering away to look back at the Burrow behind them, she tells him, "I'm really happy, George."
George knows he'll remember this moment forever. The day is just beginning, and he is standing on the edge of a forest-line with a girl who looks at him like in spite of however many weird things he does, whatever dumb things he says, however embarrassing and difficult and painful some days might be, George is still worthy of being hers.
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Safe With Me (Yandere!Plat!C!Ranboo x F!Reader) 2/???
TW: Yandere, blood, canon lives lost, mention of painkillers, kiddnapping, swearing
Part One
Over the next few days, he practically begged you to come to live with him in the Snowchester mansion, claiming that you could be much safer there, and closer to him. A.k.a, away, FAR away from Technoblade.
While you liked the thought, you explained to him that you liked your home and wanted to wait a bit before moving in. Ranboo was a little upset but quickly went back to smiling and saying he understood... He couldn't be mad at you... This was life changing for ender's sake.
Then your last day at his home came quicker than he would have liked.. but that's not the only reason he hated that day...
Maybe the voices took over?
Or maybe he was of his own free will when he did it..?
He never fully got the answer out of you and he never understood what happened... He never understood why that damned man decided to take everything from him that day...
You had walked out the door a few minutes ago with a smile on your face and a travel cup full of whatever hot drink you had made before leaving... Then he heard an ear-piercing scream.
Stumbling over his own long and lanky legs, he ran out the door as fast as he could, crashing and tripping over furniture before reaching his front door. He threw it open with a cry of your name and saw the scene he feared the most...
Every single one of his fears had come true.
You were laying lifelessly on the stark white snow, eyes and mouth wide open with dull terror as your clothes were covered in an almost beautiful ruby red liquid seeping from a hole in your chest. Your once shiny (e/c) eyes were glazed over like the glass eyes of a doll, your skin rapidly losing any sort of beautiful hue he had once studied.
Ranboo couldn't stop the scream of bloody murder that escaped his throat as he stumbled through the snow and collapsed to his knees beside your colourless corpse. His hands quickly became covered in the red liquid as it seeped into the snow, flowing freely from the wound that had been created by the man he has once respected.
He knew you were already gone by the time he came out, but he still kept trying to get you to wake up. His colourless hands gently shaking you, holding your face in between his stained hands, trying anything to keep the life from leaving your body, but obviously failing.
"She has one more life left. You're overreacting." His pink-haired neighbour growled softly as your body began to break apart into particles. Despite the piglin's words, the other hybrid sobbed hysterically with his head thrown back to the sky, ignoring the tears burning into his skin.
"I'll kill you."
"Heh?"
"I'll kill you for this, Technoblade." Ranboo tilted his head back down as the black part of his skin began to seep into the white part. His green eye turned into an amethyst-coloured purple and his mouth began to split open.
The next few days to him were a blur... Or that was his memory getting worse...
He'll never really know...
He just knew that you weren't safe without him... You were on your last canon life! You had to be protected...
Even if that meant you couldn't leave...
He had a few more days before you woke up from your respawn, so he set to work quickly. Ranboo began to build an obsidian building, reminding him very much of his panic room, but he couldn't focus on the fact for very long. He had to build something only he could get into. Something that would protect you. Something that couldn't be destroyed.
It was difficult and took longer than he would've liked... But it was safe and out of the way. No one would find it, but that was what he wanted. It was for your safety! And so he could remember you forever! He couldn't complain even if he was tired and his hands were covered in blisters from mining for so long...
Carrying your momentarily lifeless body through L'Manberg was stressful enough, with the emotional and mental pain of carrying the person he held closest to him, but with everyone quickly running up and asking what happen... He found himself unable to say anything other than, "Technoblade..." before brushing past them as quickly as possible, trying to get you to your new home.
There was an almost disgustingly familiar throbbing in your head that awoke you a few days later. You couldn't place where you had felt the headache before, but didn't think too much about it as you just decided to get up and start your day, "I wonder if Ranboo wants to hang out again, I mean... Then again, we've spent an entire week together. Mans is probably sick of me by now..." You laughed a bit to yourself, trying to hide the little stab of self-deprivation that filled your body.
Pushing yourself out of bed, you looked around and sighed, seeing nothing out of the ordinary, "At least I unpacked before I passed out... Now, where did I put the stupid painkillers...?" You walked out of your room, cringing at the cold wooden oak floors and sight of the darkened windows, "Ooookay. Slept less or longer than I thought... Maybe social interaction is more draining than I would like..."
You shuffled around your house and lit a few of the lanterns in your kitchen, digging through the cupboards to find something to alleviate the throbbing pain behind your eyes, "Oh! I went shopping before I passed out? Huh... Maybe I got a bit tipsy or something? Wait... I didn't buy painkillers? Dammit! I always need something I didn't buy..."
Groaning, you put your hand to your head before grabbing a sweater to put over the clothes you slept in, which were the clothes you left Ranboo's house in, before slipping on your shoes. Once you looked at yourself in the mirror, you deemed yourself ready to go outside and head by the store, so you opened the door...
Only to walk into a solid black wall.
"H-huh?" You whispered, gently reaching up and touching the cold material blocking your exit, "Ob...Obsidian? What on earth?... What kind of prank is Tommy pulling now?!" You huffed angrily and walked over to a window... Only to realize it wasn't dark... Every exit was covered in obsidian. "Okay, okay, what the- oh, wait I have tools! Ha ha Tommy, suck a pickaxe."
Walking over to your storage room and opened the chest that held your tools and materials to make tools, only to find it completely empty. Your armour was gone too! This... Was an elaborate prank... Maybe Tommy got help with it. You pushed yourself up and walked over to your enderchest, only to find it completely gone!
Dammit, Tommy definitely got help with this...
Realizing that they wanted you to panic, you huffed and sat down on your bed, crossing your arms in thought, "This... Ah, just gotta wait it out I guess..." You mumbled angrily, flopping onto your couch, groaning in annoyance as the action irritated your headache. Maybe you could sleep it off? Yeah, that was your best bet.
You weren't exactly sure how much time had past to be completely honest? Maybe a few days? Or a few hours? There wasn't much to really do during this horrible prank, you couldn't even enchant your tools or even make any! You didn't even have knives for cooking dammit! Plus... You were beginning to run low on food...
This time you woke up to something different. It sounded like Redstone activating and pistons sliding against each other before the door creaked open. The prank was finally over! Thank god! You shot up from your bed and walked towards the front door, only to see Ranboo standing there with bags filled with groceries dangling off his arms and tail. With a sigh, he decided to put them on the kitchen counter before looking around, only to completely light up at the sight of you, "(Y/n)! Hello!"
"Ranboo..." You smiled, your voice a bit hoarse from the lack of use, "Please tell me Tommy's terrible prank is over and I can go outside and touch grass again.
The hybrid's expression didn't change, "You can't go."
Your smile faltered a bit and you grit your teeth. This prank was still going on? How annoying. Turning quickly towards your door, you huffed as you saw it blocked off by obsidian again, "Boo... Please let me out... I'm not enjoying this prank anymore. I don't even have a clock-"
"Oh? Did I forget to build you a clock when I built this place? My bad, I'll make you one tonight so I can give it to you tomorrow." He continued to smile, beginning to put away your groceries for you... Somehow having the exact brands you always bought... And... Knowing exactly where they went, "But, you can't leave."
"This... This isn't funny anymore, Ranboo." You spoke firmly, but your voice wavered a small bit in realization as your face drained slightly of colour, "Built... This place? You put me here?"
The tone of voice, while still not lessening his smile, caught his attention, "Oh... You're looking pale... Here, let's get you to bed. You aren't looking too good and I don't want you getting sick." He walked over and put his hands on your shoulders, trying to get you to head into your room, but you wouldn't budge, "(Y/n), come on, I'm just doing what's best for your health and safety. We don't want you to lose your final life, especially to an easily preventable sickness, do we?"
"Final... Life...?" You were going to be sick... Quickly lifting your arm into view, you realized he was right. There was only one black line left. There were two when you visited Ranboo... What...? "I'm-I'm not tired... Ranboo, what happened?!"
"I'm not going to taint your memories with something so horrifying..." His voice, while sounding sickly sweet, sounded disgustingly morbid, "That's why you're in here! So I can keep you completely safe from the dangers of the outside world and remember you forever!" He was still wearing that damned smile...
He took you away from your life...
And he was fucking smiling...
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GENERAL TAGLIST: Empty
'SAFE WITH ME' TAGLIST: @kylobensgirl
#ranboo#ranboo x reader#ranboo female reader#ranboolive#mcyt#mcyt x reader#ranboo mcyt#yandere x reader#yandere ranboo#ranboo dsmp#dsmp#mcyt x y/n#mcyt x you#dream smp x reader#dream smp x you#dream smp x y/n#ranboo x you#c!ranboo
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The Tiny Fox Thief
Warnings: This story contains soft, safe, vore. Scott catches Fundy trying to steal his stuff for the 100th time and decides to punish him to deter him from doing it again.
I promise I didn’t stop wanting to write these, I originally wrote this like two months ago but works been rough recently and killing my motivation and time to write, but hey at least I got this out in time for Origins to come back? I’m hoping the next one won’t take as long but I can’t make any promises. Despite the long wait I hope you enjoy!
A tiny fox man was rummaging through his things.
Again.
Scott had causally walked into his house to get some payment for Ranboo and Tubbo for a trade they were doing for his new build, and he was greeted with a familiar sight.
He opened one of his chests to grab some gold and out of the corner of his eye he spotted a tiny ball of orange fluff hiding behind a diamond that was suspiciously not with the other diamonds.
Scott rolled his eyes, he grabbed the gold he needed and safely stored it away from the greedy fox before plucking Fundy up from behind the diamond.
Said fox yelped a little at being caught and now being so close to the giant.
Scott shifted his grip so Fundy was gently held in his hands instead of dangling by the fingers. Even if he was a little thief Scott didn't want to hurt his friend.
Scott raised an eyebrow at him." This is the fifth time this month Fundy, don't you ever get tired of gong through people's things?" He questioned flatly.
Fundy gave Scott a sheepish look." Uh, heyyy, Scott...I uhh, don't know what you're talking about, I was just looking at your pretty gems, they're uhh, very shiny from down here, you know?" His eyes darted around, trying not to make eye contact with the agitated giant.
Scott didn't seem convinced.
"You know, you'd have your own shiny diamonds to look at if you went and got them yourself instead of stealing from other people." He deadpanned.
"Pshh, what's the fun in that?" A look of fear crossed his face as he realized his mistake." Uhh, not that I was stealing, cause, uh, heh I was totally not doing that, I promise haha." His ears flattened against the back of his head as he grinned nervously.
" What am I gonna do with you? You know I could blow you to smithereens right?" Scott shook his head. He was obviously joking, but a little intimidation never hurt anybody.
"Ahah, but you'd never do that right?" In the back of his mind he knew Scott wouldn't do that, but Fundy did shrink a little further into Scott's hand nonetheless.
"Hmm, maybe I should, teach you a lesson to quit stealin' from everyone." Scott threatened.
At first it was an empty threat, but a small rumble from his stomach gave him a different idea.
It wasn't uncommon for someone to go missing for a little while due to being tucked away in a persons belly. Most of the giants in this server had the ability to protect their prey and keep them safe for as long as they wanted, and for the ones who didn't have those powers there were potions that could easily help keep prey safe as well.
That's why Fundy knew as soon as he heard that growl, with the look that crossed Scott's face, that it was time to bolt. He immediately panicked and started trying to squirm out of the hand he was trapped in.
"I think I know a good place I can put you for tonight, maybe it'll teach you a lesson." Scott himself had never eaten anyone before, but he knew he had a control over his own digestive system, so he wouldn't actually hurt Fundy.
"P-please, Scott! I-I promise I won't steal again, I've changed, I've mended my ways and all that!" He stuttered frantically.
Now, Fundy has spent a fair few nights in the belly of one of his friends, especially after he'd been caught stealing from them, but just because he knew it was safe didn't mean he liked it. It was just so humiliating.
And I mean do you know how long it takes to get saliva out of fur?
In a stroke of luck, Fundy managed to squirm out of Scott's grip and he leapt off of Scott's hand onto the floor.
Fundy was speedier than the average tiny, fast enough to almost make it to the little hole the tinies used to get into Scott's house.
Key word there is almost.
Right as he got to the entrance, as the scent of the outside hit his muzzle...he was swept right back up into Scott's hands.
He whined as Scott's grinning face looked down at him." So close, yet so far Fundy." He petted Fundy's head with his thumb." I promise it's just for tonight, it'll be a good nights sleep and I'll let you out in the morning." Scott tried to reassure.
It was quite warm inside, it was soft and it was easy to fall asleep knowing he was safe.
Fundy huffed. That didn't mean he liked it! It was slimy and gross, it was so loud, and being eaten was so just embarrassing, and don't even get started on the trip down! No, he most certainly did not want to get eaten.
Scott kept a firm grip on him as he lifted Fundy above his head. Fundy yelped as Scott opened his mouth and unceremoniously dropped him in.
To Fundy this was a familiar hell. To Scott this was an unfamiliar heaven.
He hummed as he felt squirming around. Fundy battered his tiny paws at his teeth, trying to get him to open his mouth.
Scott didn't relent and instead started licking the little fox. He had a very salty taste that made his mouth water.
After Scott figured Fundy had been covered in enough saliva, he tilted his head back so Fundy knew what was coming. It was strange to feel Fundy physically tense, and after a couple seconds he swallowed him down.
Fundy yelped as he was shoved into the dark tunnel.
This was always his least favorite part. Not that he liked any of it, mind you. But this always left him dizzy and disoriented and feeling a bit sick.
He squirmed at the painful crushing that slowly pulled him down. He could tell Scott had never eaten someone before, it was much more painful than usual.
After a few more swallows his feet were pressed against something, he whined as he was squeezed through something much tighter and then unceremoniously dropped into a shallow pool of liquid.
Tired as the decent down left him, Fundy didn't hesitate to scramble up and start battering at the walls. He didn't want to actually hurt Scott, but he was still upset, it was so disgusting and humiliating. Why did they always do this to him?
Scott stumbled a bit, leaning against the chest at the unexpected assault on his stomach.
He didn't expect to be able to feel everything so strongly, and it felt kinda nice, despite the attack inside.
He hummed, pressing a hand to his stomach." You doing alright in there Fundy?" He inquired. He wanted to make sure he wasn't gonna actually hurt him.
"No, Scott, you just ate me!" He growled, trying to jump and climb up the slick walls to no avail." Please let me out, it's really gross in here!" He whined.
Scott chuckled, rubbing circles on his belly." Well I didn't exactly swallow you for your enjoyment, this is meant to be a punishment after all." He lowered his voice, tone more serious." Are you actually ok in there? I'm not hurting you, right?"
"...If I said yes would you let me out?"
"Fundy."
"Ok, ok, yeah I'm not dying or whatever." Fundy huffed, slumping against the wall with his arms over his chest.
"It's just for the night Fundy, I promise I'll let you out in the morning." He reassured.
Fundy remained grumpily silent, until Scott heard the thumping of footsteps and a figure appeared in the doorway.
"Scott?" Inquired the dark, imposing figure of Ranboo. The poor ender hybrid had to duck to see into the door.
Caught up in catching Fundy, Scott had forgotten his original goal when coming in here.
"Oh, I'm sorry Ranboo, I was trying to grab the gold for you guys and found a certain someone rummaging through my things again, so I had to deal with that." He quickly explained, sliding off the chest.
At the mention of Ranboo, Fundy scrambled up trying to claw at the walls again." Ranboo! Help me! I don't want to stay in here please!" He cried.
Unfortunately for Fundy, Ranboo couldn't hear him from the inside, but from the slight glance to Scott's belly he seemed to be able to figure out what happened.
Regardless of whether he knew or not Ranboo only lightly chuckled." You'd think he'd get tired of stealing one day." He stepped into the house, shaking his head." Well, do you have our stuff?"
Scott did a little "Oh yeah!" jump before turning around to dig in his chests. Fundy was still fiercely trying to get Ranboo's attention, which Scott blithely ignored.
After a couple seconds Ranboo was in the possession of 3 stacks of Redstone, a couple gold blocks, and some obsidian, and Scott now owned several stacks of concrete that he couldn't be bothered to harvest himself for a new build he was working on.
After saying their goodbye's Ranboo wandered off to...wherever he and Tubbo wandered off to, and Scott was left alone with Fundy, who was now grumpily sulking against the stomach wall.
After shifting his spades of concrete into his chests Scott retired to his room, flopping backwards onto his bed, trying not to jostle Fundy around too much.
He curled up around his middle, wrapping his arms around his stomach and allowing himself to revel in the sensation of Fundy being in there. Fundy wasn't moving much anymore but Scott could feel his weight, like a warm stone sat in the center of his belly. If he concentrated enough he could even feel the fox's soft breathing.
As much as Scott wanted to punish Fundy he did still feel bad for trapping him all night." You gonna be alright in there?" He softly asked.
Fundy huffed tiredly. It wasn't...that bad. It could actually be quite calming if he had wanted this to happen. It was much warmer than his cave and softer than the bed he slept on. The deep sounds of Scott's lungs and organs working around him did much better to soothe him than the dead silence he slept in at home. It wasn't really that bad in here if you ignored the disgusting amounts of slime...it's just that he hated feeling like food. And he knew nobody on the server felt like that towards him, but it didn't stop his brain from thinking about it that way.
He curled up tighter in a ball." I don't like being food for you guys." He mumbled, Scott could barely even hear the fox.
Scott pressed a hand to his belly, surprised at the sudden vulnerability. He didn't know Fundy felt that way about being eaten. Scott had assumed it was a fun game to him like it was everyone else." Fundy...none of us think like that about you, any of you, we like to have fun and mess with you guys but I-none of us- would ever think of you as food." He reassured. He'd never taken much consideration into how tinies really felt about being eaten, since people like Tubbo, Tommy, and Niki seemed to enjoy it (most of the time) and with the knowledge that it was safe, he didn't consider how negative it could be for some tinies.
He rubbed circles into his belly, feeling regretful." Do you actually want me to let you out? I don't want you to be in there if it upsets you."
Fundy sighed, licking at the few stray salty tears on his face."...No, there's no point when I'm already in here. And it isn't...that bad, I just...hate being reminded of where I am."
Scott chuckled lightly." Just think of it like a really weird waterbed, except with more slime." He offered.
Fundy snorted. It was like a waterbed of sorts, except it felt more like you were inside it than on top of it.
He laid his head down on his arms, closing his eyes. He didn't fall asleep immediately, but Scott's words soothed his nerves enough to where he found the stomach much less distressing than it had previously been. With Scott gently rubbing him and the sound of his heartbeat filling his ears and drowning out his thoughts, Fundy drifted to sleep.
Scott wasn't tired just yet. Being a Starborne, he much preferred being out at night and as such he was mostly nocturnal. He didn't mind staying awake anyway. He didn't know the next time he would be able to do something like this and wanted to enjoy himself as much as possible.
For now, Scott was content to just settle down and comfort Fundy. He'd had a rough couple hours thanks to him so he wanted to make him feel better as much as possible. He hadn't eaten tonight, but Fundy filled his belly enough where he didn't need to, a nice comfortable weight to keep the hunger at bay. He softly rubbed circles into his belly around Fundy, who seemed to slowly be drifting off. He was happy to lay like that for another few hours, enjoying the feeling of Fundy inside, as close and safe to him as a friend could be.
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LMK fandom: Oh, what do we do about this guy who has nothing but hurt Xiaotian, tried to replace Sun Wukong and his crew, hurt Tripitaka and ordered servants to cannibalize a monkey? Oh I know! We’ll turn him into our little meow meow~ he’s so innocent and Sun Wukong is obviously the villain!
What doesn’t help is this idea is perpetuated by multiple fan fic writers and artists for some reason. Especially some aus they make that turn SWK into a bastard for the sake of the story rather than considering cultural context and thinking they should be respectful.
And almost everyone lets them get away with it just because the art or fanfic is good and they get so popular that no one can point what is actually wrong without feeling like they’re going to get attacked.
I'm starting to feel like my blog is the one anons go to specifically to vent their frustrations about the Six Eared Macaque in his lego monkey show form & the associated fandom lmao. But I guess this makes sense, as I’ve had fun quasi-dragging him before & will in fact use this anon submission as an opportunity to have my own, to put it academically, bitch fest about not just this fandom's favorite protagonist-traumatizing meow meow, but about the way villains are often treated in not just fanon, but increasingly in canon works as well. But same policy as with the last anon; I'll post my opinions below the cut, and as fandoms love to say, don’t like don't read if you don't want to see me dunking on the six eared simian & common fandom tendencies towards villains.
Oh man I would say where would you even begin with this but anon you’ve pretty much started yourself with my main gripe with a lot of ways that the Six-Eared Macaque is portrayed in fandom; there seems to be this unspoken agreement that his acts of violence towards Sun Wukong, Qi Xioatian, and Qi Xioatian’s loved ones are either to be framed as somewhat or totally justified, to be immediately forgiven/excused, or to simply & completely be ignored. Like friends maybe this is just me not seeing the proper posts but while the fandom is inundated with art and fanfics of Macaque as a generally decent individual & a true member of team good guy, I have yet to see one person address the fact that this monkey literally kidnapped & mind-controlled Xiaotian’s best friend and father figures & forced them to brutalize Xiaotian while ol’ Six Ear looked on and laughed (X_X). Like this kind of fandom villain treatment is definitely not something that’s solely at work for Monkie Kid, but it is kind of nutty how fandoms will swing between yelling that people should be allowed to like villains without even mild critique, and then will just flat-out not address the villainous behavior, and will even bend over backwards to frame even characters who committed genocide as just poor innocent widdle victims who need a hug. At its worst, I’ve even seen tons of people in a fandom get really angry at other people who don’t like a villain, and will even start accusing those people of hating real-life mentally disabled or abused individuals all because they don’t like the fandom’s favorite literal war criminal. The Monkie Kid fandom is FAR more chill & better than a lot of other fandoms I’ve come across in that regard, but that is an exceedingly low bar, & the tendency to woobify certain kinds of villains-- as with Macaque and the extreme emphasis on his bad boy/sad boy thing--is very much at work.
I’ve also talked before about a kind of monoculturalization of certain character interpretations and story beats in fandoms, and one of the more popular ones that seems to be applied to Macaque a lot is the “hero actually bad, villain actually good” cliche, as observable from the general fandom assumption that Mr. Six-Ears he wasn’t even slightly lying or remembering things through a rose-tinted or skewed lens when he gave his version of his and Sun Wukong’s past. Like at this point it seems the possibility that people WILL NOT even consider is that Sun Wukong never did & still doesn't care that much about the Six Eared Macaque (in JTTW they weren’t sworn brothers & in Monkie Kid the only thing the monkey king really said to Macaque before attacking him was a pretty contemptuous "Aren't you ever going to get sick of living under my shadow?," & responds to his "beloved friend" getting blown up with "You did good, bud" to Qi Xiaotian, who did the exploding), or that their original fight may in fact have mostly been instigated by Macaque. After all, to repeat what this anon summarized & what I've said before about their original JTTW context (& in an example of the things that do feel like it's often lost in translation) is that the Six Ear Macaque was a villain not just because he beat up the Tang Monk, but because he wanted to take over Sun Wukong's entire life and identity so he could have all that glory, prestige, and power for himself. To quote the macaque himself from the Anthony C. Yu translation, "I struck the T'ang monk and I took the luggage...precisely because I want to go to the West all by myself to ask Buddha for the scriptures. When I deliver them to the Land of the East, it will be my success and no one else's. Those people of the South Jambudvipa Continent will honor me then as their patriarch and my fame will last for all posterity." And in order to do this, the Six Eared Macaque had apparently made Sun Wukong's "little ones," his monkey family, his captives through either trickery or force, and gotten a number of them to take on the appearance of Tang Sanzang and the other pilgrims. It's also made clear that in very direct contrast to Sun Wukong, he doesn't care about these monkeys beyond how they might serve him. In fact, after Sha Wujing kills the monkey posing as him the Six Eared Macaque not only all but immediately replaces him with another, but also "told his little ones to have the dead monkey skinned. Then his meat was taken to be fried and served as food along with coconut and grape wines." So this monkey is not only willing to risk the lives of a lot of other monkeys for his own personal benefit, but is also a literal cannibal. And yes yes, I know a lot of people have argued that Monkie Kid shouldn't be considered a direct sequel to JTTW & that's fair enough (for example, Sun Wukong probably shouldn't be smashing anyone into a meat patty in a children's cartoon lol). And of course, it needs to be noted that there are a buttload of really out there & really cursed pieces of media based on JTTW & that were created in China. Yet the above description is the oft-ignored in the west original facet of the Six Eared Macaque's character. And it is this selfishness, entitlement, and treatment of other individuals as tools for his own self-serving ends that is, from where I’m standing, still very much present in Monkie Kid. Like besides repeatedly going out of his way to physically and psychologically traumatize Xioatian, with the last episode Macaque seemed to be going right back to his manipulative ways. I’ve seen people frame their last conversation as Macaque softening to Xioatian a little bit, but personally that read a lot more like that common tactic among abusers where even after they’ve hurt you they’ll dangle something you want or need over your head (in Macaque’s case, the promise of desperately needed training and information about a serious looming threat), with the implication that you’ll only get it if you do what they want you to, such as, in this case, Xioatian going back to Macaque as his student even after having been so terribly hurt by this monkey, which would give Macaque power over Xiaotian and probably Sun Wukong as a result. And it is this violence and manipulation that it seems the fandom at large has tacitly decided shouldn’t even be addressed, instead leaning more towards a (and this is an exaggeration) “Six-Eared Macaque my poor meow meow Sun Wukong has always been bad & has always been wrong about literally everything” reading.
And while it is the case that I am not Chinese and feel that as such it would be best left to someone who actually comes from that background to provide more context into how common interpretations of the Six Eared Macaque from China may clash really badly with the stuff the western fandom creates, it also must be noted that, as much as we all want to have fun in fandom & in spite of all the out-there versions of JTTW from China, we westerners should recognize that there is a very long and very ugly history of western countries stripping other cultures’ important religious and literary works for parts & mashing them into their own thing while implying or even insisting that what they present provides a true understanding of the original piece. And while I trust most individuals in regards to Monkie Kid are able to step back and think “this is a lego cartoon and not a set guide for how I should understand JTTW” (especially given the insistence that JTTW and Monkie Kid should be considered there own separate works) there does nevertheless seem to be something of a tendency to take the conclusions people come to, for example, about Sun Wukong’s characteristic in his lego form & then assume that’s just reflective to Sun Wukong as a totality. I imagine a good portion of this is due to people not reading JTTW & especially to not having easy access to solid information or answers about JTTW’s many different facets (like geez awhile ago I was trying to get a clear answer on what is considered the most accurate translation of the names of Sun Wukong’s six sworn brothers & got like 5 different responses lmao), but that tendency to take a western fandom interpretation & run with it instead of doing any background research or questioning said interpretation is still very much at play. As such, & as made prominent in the way people have been interpreting the dynamic between Sun Wukong and the Six Eared Macaque in the lego monkey show, tbh it does seem kind of shitty for western creators & audience to sometimes go really out of their way to ignore all of this original cultural & narrative context for the sake of Angst (TM) in Macaque's favor, demonizing Sun Wukong, and shipping the monkey king with his evil twin (X_X).
And speaking of which, even beyond the potential inherent creepiness & revulsion that can be inspired by this specific ship given common interpretations of the og classic's original meaning (again, it's my understanding, given both summaries of translated Chinese academic texts I've been kindly provided with, my own reading of the Anthony C. Yu translation of JTTW, & vents from a number of Chinese people I've seen on this site, that the Six-Eared Macaque is commonly interpreted in China as having originated from Sun Wukong himself as a living embodiment of his worst traits, hence why only Buddha can tell the difference between them & why the monkey king is much more slow to violence after he kills the macaque), I'd argue that in the face of all the uwu poor widdle meow meow portrayals lego show Macaque is, especially if you include JTTW's events, still in the role of “Sun Wukong but worse” as he is very much a violent & selfish creep. Like he was basically running around in JTTW wearing a Sun Wukong fursuit, but there he had the sole reason of wanting to replace Sun Wukong wholesale so he could have all the good things in the monkey king's life without actually having to work as hard for them. But if you combine that with Macaque now claiming that he used to be best friend with Sun Wukong in his pre-journey days (something that's made funny from a JTTW context given that that status actually belongs to the Demon Bull King lol), his original violence has now blown into this centuries long and really unhealthy obsession with the monkey king. Like he's apparently gone from wanting to literally be Sun Wukong to being so obsessed with getting revenge on Sun Wukong that he's got basically nothing else going on in his life. Like he's only appeared in two episodes but...does he have any friends? Any family? A career or even a hobby that DOESN'T center the monkey king? Anything at all outside of his "get revenge on and/or kill Sun Wukong/use his successor as my personal punching bag” thing? Like dude! That is extremely creepy and extremely bad for everyone all around! As I’ve said before, this seeming refusal to see beyond the past or to do something that doesn’t involve Sun Wukong in some capacity is a trait that makes Macaque an interesting and somewhat tragic villain--he even seems to be working as Sun Wukong’s reflection in a mirror darkly, with lego show Sun Wukong pretty clearly not being able to heal from his own past which is hinted to be defined by one loss after another, and with Monkie Kid even kind of having these two characters somewhat follow their JTTW characterizations in that in the latter half of the journey Sun Wukong often gets sad & starts crying in the face of what seems insurmountable odds (& Monkie Kid Sun Wukong does seem to be hiding some serious depression behind a cheerful facade), whereas the Six-Eared Macaque retains a worse version of Sun Wukong’s pre-journey characteristic of getting pissed and lashing out if things don’t go his way--but it’s also what would make any current friendship or romantic relationship between these monkeys horrific. Although to be fair even the fandom seems to recognize this in an unconscious way, in that a lot of the art & fanfic seems to swing erratically between them kissing & screaming at each other in yet another example of bog-standard fandom adulation of romanticized toxic relationships lol.
At the end of the day, of course, this is nothing new. You'll find versions of this dynamic across a ton of fandoms and now even canonical work. And as such, I can only look at this kind of popularized relationship dynamic with a kind of resigned weariness whenever it pops up, & my frustrated question with the popularity of this kind of pairing is the exact same one that I have for a multitude of blatantly toxic villain/hero ships, given common fandom discourse & the tendency to either ignore or justify the villain's actions & demonize the hero: if you're THAT convinced that everything is the hero's fault, if you believe THAT much that the hero is the one in the wrong for the villain's pain and their subsequent actions, then why are you so set on them not only becoming a romantic pair, but framing this get-together as a good thing? Like I know we contain multitudes but that's waaay too many contradictions for me to wrap my head around. And it definitely doesn’t help that one branch of underlying reasoning behind this kind of pairing seems to be the ever-present “you break it, you fix it” mentality, where the assumption is that if you’re in a failing, abusive, and/or generally toxic relationship (platonically or romantically), if you put in enough time and effort & attempts to compromise, you’ll be able to restore/have the relationship you dreamed of, even with someone who hurt you really badly. And this assumption isn’t limited to fandom: I’d even argue that it’s everywhere in the culture, hence why a lot of people feel like they “failed” if they have to get a divorce or make the choice to leave an unhealthy friendship. Personally, I feel like people could really benefit from more stories about how it is not only the case that the people you hurt don’t owe you their forgiveness & you can still become a better and happier person without the one you hurt in your life, & that while it can be really hard it can also be a good thing to leave a relationship, even if it’s one that once meant a lot to you.
But in all honestly, from my own perspective this kind of pairing is starting to read far less like enemies to lovers and far more like a horrible fantasy where you can pull whatever shit you want, even on the people you "love," & never be held accountable for your terrible behavior or even have to consider that maybe you were in the wrong. It's another facet that makes me larf every time I see people insist that fandom is an inherently "transformative" or "progressive" form of storytelling like friends you are literally just taking status quo toxic monogamy & rebranding it as somehow beneficial & romantic (X_X).
But as to anon’s last frustration, it is hard to know what is the appropriate response with this kind of thing...like for my own part I’m keeping my frustrations to my blog & now increasingly to posts that you would have to click on the “read more” button to see what I have to say, but I totally get the hesitation to give even a mild critique to big names in a fandom. Like I've now seen it happen repeatedly where someone who has a big name in a fandom will make something that's kind of shitty for one reason or another, someone will message them with some version of "hey, that's kind of shitty, you shouldn't do that," and the typical response is either to blatantly ignore the issue completely, or more popularly to make a giant crying circus that seems deliberately geared towards stoking emotions on both sides of the, for example, fiction does/doesn't affect reality issue so that something that didn't even have to be that big a deal gets blown out of all proportion, with the big name often framing what often started out as a very mild critique into a long crying jag about how the initial response to their kind of shitty thing was so mean/cruel and they're just a poor innocent & that YOU'RE the true racist/sexist/bigot etc. if you don't agree with their opinion. It must of course be noted that there have also been numerous instances of people taking it too far the other way & sending not just big names but smaller creators literal deaths threats over stuff like innocuous ships which like holy hell bells people that’s a horrible thing to do. But for the big names at least, the end result of all this fighting is usually that once the dust has settled they have more attention/fame/money/power in the fandom than before, and with anyone who might have a problem with their stuff feeling afraid to voice their opinion lest they be swarmed by that person's fans. In that way fandom does often seem to increasingly be geared towards presenting an “official” fandom perspective about various facets of a piece of media instead of allowing for a multitude of interpretations, and with criticism, no matter its shape or form or how genuinely warranted it may be, being hounded out of existence. I feel like a lot of this could be made less bad if there wasn’t this constant assumption & even drive to think that a different interpretation of or criticism of your favorite work of fiction or your fanwork isn’t a direct claim that you are a thoroughly loathsome individual (& maybe also if people cultivated an enjoyment of learning things about important works from a culture outside their own, even if what you learn clashes with your own initial understandings), but I guess we’ll see if that ever happens.
So these are my general thinks about the Six Eared Macaque’s current fandom meow meow status & some of my bigger gripes with fandom tendencies as a whole. I stand by my idea that the most interesting & beneficial route for Macaque moving forward would be a kind of “redemption without forgiveness from the ones you hurt” arc--as I think was done pretty excellently with the character Grace in Infinity Train--and if for no other reason than gosh dern this monkey really needs to cultivate some sort of identity beyond his “Sun Wukong but worse” persona.
#lmk macaque#monkie kid macaque#6 eared macaque#monkie kid#lmk sun wukong#qi xiaotian#lmk monkey king#sun wukong#monkey king#journey to the west#jttw#fandom criticism#lmk
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Brightest Blue (series)
PART ONE
Pairing: Josh & female!Reader Warnings: None yet. Summary: Things are changing. New state. New school. New roommate. You just pray things are going to click into place. Notes: Here we are everyone. This fic has been a long time in the making, but I’m pretty dang happy with it so far! I made Josh extra lovable and squishy for you all. I hope you enjoy! This fic is edited by the amazing and gorgeous, @lantern-inthenight. And big thanks as always to @myownparadise96. I literally could not have found the motivation to do this fic without you.
MASTERPOST
taglist: @myownparadise96 @n1-party-anthem @valleyd0ll @bigblack-catattack @guitarfingers @thebohemianpenguin @oblvions @hansonobsessed @satingrass-maidensfair
The scenery in Michigan was vastly different than back home. You were used to and comfortable with the nearly unforgiving heat of the American South West, but the farther away you got from home, the more foreign everything seemed. The scrubland slowly started being replaced by emerald green grass and dense forests of towering pines. Once you hit Illinois, little farmsteads were scattered along every road you took, boasting fields thick with corn and beans.
It was a bit over a full day’s worth of driving. You had originally thought you could just drive right through - after all, you were young and you had plenty of caffeine at the ready. In reality, you wound up digesting the trip over two days.
You were a fortunate enough person that you had a reliable car, which made up for the fact that it wasn’t very pretty to look at. It didn’t exactly sip gas, but that had never even been a concern before this - it wasn’t very often that you left home, let alone make a trip across the country. But you were able to breathe a sigh of relief when you started seeing the exit signs for Ann Arbor.
Your parents had been a bit judgemental about you picking a school so far away - they were even worse homebodies than you, and they knew that you being across the country meant they wouldn’t be seeing you until the school year was over - but there was no way you could turn down an opportunity like this one. You had worked your ass off to qualify for a scholarship, knowing full well that there was no way you could afford higher education otherwise. MU hadn’t been your very first choice but with one of the better programs in the country for your desired field, you just couldn’t turn it down.
You had to pull over into a McDonald’s parking lot to pull up the address you were looking for and program it into your phone’s GPS before continuing further into the city. Your mother had been particularly wary about your living situation. See, she was a woman that adamantly liked to have a plan and then stick to it - she didn’t see any value in just letting things happen. “Go with the flow” wasn’t in her vocabulary, but you’d always romanticised the idea. Which was why, when you pulled up to the apartment that you were going to be living in for the next year, it was the first time you’d ever seen it.
You had found the listing on the Facebook marketplace for the area, looked at a couple of pictures, and signed the lease agreement online - all without knowing what you were really in for. You’d been informed that you’d have a roommate when you’d contacted the landlord, but she hadn’t mentioned a thing about the person other than that. All she really said was “no pets, no smoking, and one month’s rent for the security deposit. You had told yourself that it didn’t really matter what the situation was as long as the other person wasn’t outwardly malicious and the place wasn’t infested with pests or anything, even though you knew it mattered a little.
An audible sigh of relief left your lips when you pulled into the apartment parking lot and found that your new home looked well kept. The building had old, slide-up windows, but the brick siding was clean, and the shrubs that lined the property were trimmed and neat. You and your back seat stuffed to max capacity with house plants had made it - and with only a bit of sleep deprivation and caffeine jitters for damages.
After you got out of the car, you grabbed your very favorite potted cactus and found your way into the building, meandering down the dim hall until you came upon the door marked 6. You hadn’t been given a key yet, so you knocked with your free hand and waited until you heard someone shuffling around inside.
You would be lying if you said you weren’t nervous - obviously, you were - but more than anything you were excited. Anxious, maybe? That seemed like the right word.
The door opened to reveal a boy, around your age, hair a mess of curls on the top and shorn tighter to the sides of his head. You were immediately taken aback by the depth in his eyes, chocolatey and warm.
“What’s up?” he asked casually, leaning against the door frame, a pair of old-school headphones dangling from his hand.
You frowned at him slightly, suddenly terrified you’d gotten the wrong apartment number. You weren’t sure how you’d live with that embarrassment, especially if you had to live next door to him - you’d just be that stupid girl that didn’t even know where she lived. “Oh, I think I’m your new roommate? This is number six, right?” You peered around the other side of the open door, just to confirm.
A beaming grin spread over his soft face, showing you his blindingly white teeth and the deepest pair of dimples you’d ever seen. “Oh, cool, yeah. Come on in.”
He stepped aside, giving a dramatically flourished bow as a gesture for you to enter. You obliged, and even though this was your new house too, you paused and waited as he shut the door behind you.
“Sorry, I was expecting you yesterday, so.” He trailed off with a sheepish smile and then extended his free hand to you. “Anyway, I’m Josh.”
You shifted your cactus to one arm so you could shake his hand. “Y/N. Yeah, sorry, it took me longer than I expected to get here. Which is why my stuff apparently showed up before I did.”
You eyed around the apartment, spotting boxes of your things in piles. The original plan your parents had come up with was to have you rent a U-Haul, but since you’d never driven anything bigger than your Camry, you had quickly shot that idea down. After some expert negotiating, they had agreed to hire a moving company. You hadn’t had the balls to ask what a service like that had set them back - decided instead that it was better if you didn’t know.
“Oh yeah,” he replied, rubbing at the back of his neck. “It all showed up yesterday at like noon. One of the boxes was open a little, and I saw records so I looked through them to make sure you weren’t some kind of freak.”
It was more of a statement than a warning, and the smile he gave you showed not even a shred of an apology so you just smiled back. “Find anything you like?”
He turned on his heel and headed into the kitchen - connected to the living room by a huge square archway. “Your music taste is,” He paused, opening a cupboard and pulling down two mismatched glasses. “Eclectic.”
You laughed at him, bending to gently set your plant down on a side table. “That’s true.”
“But I found plenty I could listen to, so I guess you’re okay. You want some juice?” he asked as he held up a paper carton of store brand orange juice
.
“That would be lovely,” you agreed, standing stick straight the way you did when in the presence of new company. “My dad used to take me to a lot of thrift stores and we’d go home with a minimum of two records per trip.”
“I love thrifting,” he said simply, giving you an alarmingly serious look. “There are three here, I think. Every once in a while you can find something really worth keeping. I have kind of a ‘catch and release’ policy where if I don’t instantly know what I’m going to do with an item, I leave it there, but I think - like - a third of my wardrobe is from thrift stores.”
You listened, feeling oddly entranced by the way he was handing you thoughts as they came to him. There was something truly honest about it - a quality people back home didn’t seem to have. It was charming.
He brought your glass of juice to you and then motioned to the rest of the apartment. “You want the grand tour of Casa De Joshua-” He gave you a pointed look and a cheesy grin. “And Y/N?”
You breathed a laugh at him, nodding as you sipped. “Please.”
“Okay, try not to get lost - this is obviously the living room. I do most of my living here as the name would suggest. I found this couch on the side of the road - actually almost all of my furniture is adopted.” As he explained, he was gesturing to items like Vanna White.
The couch looked. Well-loved. You could tell just at a glance that it was probably past it’s prime when Josh had stumbled upon it, but it did look comfortable, and it wasn’t like you had a couch to offer, so you were happy with it.
“I have this TV but it’s really only for movies and stuff because I’m twenty-two and I’d rather die than pay for cable. But there are literally hundreds of DVDs in the TV stand that you are welcome to peruse at your leisure,” he informed, his hands gesturing almost arbitrarily as he talked.
You followed as he moved on through the archway. “This is the kitchen. All of the food lives here. There’s lots of stuff, but I try to just make two bigger meals per day. I don’t have a real ice tray so I’ve been using a chocolate mold- Well anyway, our ice will be in the shape of wiener dogs.”
You were shocked at the laugh that escaped you, genuine and uncontrolled. He grinned over at you, clearly also surprised - but pleased with himself for getting the reaction he was aiming for.
“I think I can live with that.”
“Good,” he agreed simply, giving you a new kind of smile - something sweeter. After a beat, he motioned down the hall with his eyes, letting you lead. “The bathroom is this way. The water takes like three or four minutes to get hot. I realized that I have a lot of products for some reason, but I condensed them all into this one area in the corner just in case my new roommate was a girl, and you are so that’s great. I’ll probably get a shelf.”
There was a proud quality to his voice like he felt gentlemanly for letting you have all the space you needed. For some reason, that made you feel warm and fuzzy.
“And what if your new roommate had been a boy?” you inquired with a smirk.
He put a finger on his chin, taking on a contemplative look for you. “Hmm. Then I guess I slowly would have moved my stuff back to the cabinet - probably just one thing per day so he wouldn’t notice. Unless he had a lot of makeup or something, then I’d just let him have it.”
He grinned as you teasingly shook your head.
“This way is the sleeping quarters. My room is there on the right and yours to the left.”
You stepped into your new room and let a sigh of relief. Two huge windows took up a lot of the far wall, framed underneath by large sills. The space was bright and roomier than you’d pictured. Your bed was set up in the very middle of the room, but you already knew exactly where you wanted it to go. For some reason, you had been concerned that you wouldn’t like the space, but it was kind of perfect.
“This is great,” you breathed, turning to him and giving him a sly grin. “Wanna give me a hand moving my furniture around?”
He pretended to consider for a moment until you spoke again.
“My mom sent money for pizza while I get stuff unpacked,” you said coyly. “If you needed any convincing.”
He laughed, showing you his teeth. “You drive a hard bargain. Okay, I’ll help as long as I get to look through your stuff while we move it.”
You gave him a questioning look, earning a one-shouldered shrug in return. He looked benign enough standing there, propped against the door frame with a goofy upturn to his lips, so you relented.
“Deal,” you agreed.
You were positive you would not have been able to move stuff without his help. For being a slender boy, he seemed to easily be able to get things where they needed to be. He dutifully helped you shove your furniture into place - your bed against the window wall, your desk and vanity on the wall with your closet door. Then, bless his little heart, he helped you move it all again when you decided you didn’t like the arrangement (but not without some light griping).
One by one, you brought in your boxes from the living room and you allowed him to poke through them, perched on your bed. He flipped through your books, thumbing pages of ones that piqued his interest - you could only imagine that he was already planning on borrowing some of them. He reacted similarly to your framed photos, as he unwrapped them from their packing paper.
When you got your record player set up, he put on a vinyl and started to hang your art prints on the wall where you instructed him to. The look of concentration on his face was rather endearing as he held a few nails between his teeth and hammered them into the wall, one by one. There was a time or two you were convinced that he was going to mutilate his thumb, but he didn’t, and when the last picture was hung, you breathed a sigh of relief.
You called in a pizza, adorned with his requested toppings as you hung your clothes into your closet, your phone tucked against your ear and shoulder for maximum efficiency.
Plants collected on your bed until there was no more room for them - after that, he started setting them on the floor as he brought them in from your car. He didn’t seem to be judging the sheer amount of them, even though he had every right to.
“It’s going to look like a jungle in here,” he stated finally as he took a bite out of a slice of pizza that he was holding like a taco, his eyes raking over all of the foliage scattered around your room. Rather than sounding like he was teasing, his tone seemed excited.
You grinned at him, starting to arrange them on the window sill and your bookshelf that had only ever served you as a plant shelf since you’d bought it. “Plants are my passion. Botany major,” you explained as you fluffed up your Monstera’s huge leaves.
“Ooh.” He raised his eyebrows at you, pulling one of his legs up underneath him on your bed - now fitted with sheets. “I think that’s going to be nice. Give it some life in here.”
You grabbed another slice from the pizza box on your nightstand and tried to think of the right tone of voice to use to ask the next question. “How long have you lived here by yourself?”
He hummed, eyes flicking around distantly as he thought. “Well, I’ve lived here just over a year, and my first roommate dropped out and moved back home about...six months ago?”
“Have you been lonely? You seem like a social guy.” You gave him an empathetic look but he just shrugged at you. You hadn’t known him long enough to know for sure, but you suspected he was more affected than he was letting on.
“I mean, a little lonely. But I got used to it for the most part.” He paused for a good couple of seconds before a smile spread across his lips. “And Penny’s kept me company.”
“Oh, does your girlfriend stay here too?” you prompted, trying to remember if you’d seen any feminine looking items lying around that weren’t yours.
“What? No,” he said under a chuckle and stood, gesturing for you to follow him across the hall.
The second you walked through the doorway, you were met with the smell of incense sticks and linen. His room was dimmer than yours and kind of cramped with all of his mismatching furniture, but he had a huge bed - you thought it could easily fit three people in it. There were some clothes strewn about around a laundry hamper by the door and you tried to not be jealous that his closet seemed to be about twice the size of yours.
He crossed the room to crouch in front of a coffee table that he seemed to be using as a catch-all. The varnish was worn off the top of it in rings because sitting on the coffee table was a globe of water and a calico colored goldfish swimming around aimlessly inside of it.
“Ah, so this is Penny,” you giggled as you bent over next to him. When the fish spotted him, it rose to the surface of the water, opening its mouth in demand for food.
He grinned down at it. “Light of my life. We’re not allowed to have pets but I figured that a fish didn’t count.”
You hummed, admittedly a bit charmed by the whole situation. “But don’t goldfish require a lot of space?”
The smile fell from his face, adopting a level of concern you hadn’t yet seen from him as he peered over at you. “Do they?”
Immediately, you felt guilty for putting that look on his features. Your brain kick-started - trying to think of a way to make it right again. “I think so? Maybe we can find her a small tank? Put a few little plants in there for her?”
Josh nodded at you, stroking his fingers over the glass with a frown. “I’m a bad dad.”
“No, no!” you assured, putting your hand on his head but then removing it instantly when you realized that you didn’t really know him, he’d just already made you feel like you did. Either way, you figured it would be inappropriate to touch him. “You’re great. She looks really happy.”
“She’s great at begging for food, so don’t get tricked,” Josh instructed after a moment, seemingly able to put his concerns aside to jest you.
You nodded in agreement. “I’ll be ever vigilant,” you promised, making him smile again.
He stood back up, so you did as well.
“Well, I’ll give you some time to get comfortable in your room,” Josh said, sitting back on his bed. “Let me know if you need anything, okay?”
“I promise I will,” you assured, tapping your hand on the doorframe on your way out.
By the time the sun was set, your room was shockingly well put together. The emotional rollercoaster that was the album Rumors helped you keep on task, losing yourself in the music so it didn’t feel like work at all. You hadn’t been expecting it to come along so quickly, but you guessed that was because you hadn’t anticipated such a friendly roommate. The nesting had always been your favorite part, so you took your time to enjoy placing out all your knick-knacks and photos.
You took a break to shower when you decided you were done for the day, reveling in the feeling of the water after such a long time in your car - He was absolutely right about how long it took to warm up from ice cold. When you got out and changed into your pajamas, Josh was sitting in the living room with a laptop across his legs.
“You wanna chill?” he asked when he heard you padding down the hall, shutting the lid of it and setting it on a side table. “Or if you’re too tired, that’s okay too.”
“No, no. I’d love to talk.” You sat next to him, leaving a comfortable amount of room between you as you pulled your knees up to your chin. “Tell me more about yourself,” you requested, tugging a blanket from a beat-up wicker basket on the floor and wrapping it around your body.
“Hmm, okay,” he started. You wondered how long it had been since he had to introduce himself to someone new. “I’m from a tiny little town here in Michigan. I’m the oldest of four - two brothers and a sister. My brother, Jake, also attends MU and lives just off campus.”
You frowned at him. “Wait, why wouldn’t he live with you?” you asked through a disbelieving laugh.
“He lived with me long enough,” Josh explained in a humored tone. “There are only so many people where I’m from and well - we wanted to meet new people, you know?”
“I guess I should be grateful for that.”
“Yeah, probably,” he teased and then paused to think. “I’m in performing arts - I’m actually putting on a production around Christmas with some elementary school kids.”
You suppressed the aww that was threatening to pass your lips. “You like kids?”
He beamed you a smile, shaking his head. “Love them. I want to have like ten of them someday.”
The thought of him surrounded by kids made you soften. You were genuinely shocked about how easy he was to talk to - how easy he was to like. You had never thought in a million years you’d get along with your roommate so well, let alone the first day meeting them.
“I hope you get to,” you said as genuinely as you could muster, prompting him to give you a grateful smile.
A yawn escaped you before you could hide it, and you quickly breathed an apology, but he just waved you off.
“You must be exhausted from that drive,” he said, his voice soft. “You should get some sleep.”
You nodded in agreement and gave him a thankful smile. “Is it okay if I sleep out here?”
The look on his face was quizzical, forcing a laugh from you. “Why would you do that?”
“I have this tradition where whenever I’m in a new place, I always sleep in the living room on the first night. It’s good luck.”
“Whatever you say.” His lips pulled back into an unconvinced smirk. “Well, yeah, you live here now too, so you can sleep wherever you’d like.”
He disappeared into his room for only a moment before popping his head back out, fingers wrapped around the door frame.
“Do you mind if I join you?”
You tried not to look too taken aback by the question, but you could feel your cheeks flushing warm. You raked your eyes along the couch, entirely positive that there wasn’t enough space for the two of you to lay out on it together fully - at least, not without being pressed flush against one another. However, his face looked innocent and soft - not a single tint of mischief colored across his features.
“Yeah, that-. I guess that’s okay,” you agreed sheepishly with a shrug. “But I’m not sure we’ll both fit if I’m being honest.”
He frowned questioningly at you, his brows lacing together until he realized what you thought he meant. His face instantly turned a light shade of pink to match yours. “No, no,” he quickly assured in between a breathy laugh. “I’m not going to sleep with you - I’ll take the recliner.”
“Oh, right.” You gave a nervous laugh of your own, cursing yourself out in your head for being so dull.
You were still well embarrassed as you made a nest of blankets on the couch and he brought out a pillow for you when you realized yours were still tucked deep in your bag of bedding. When each of you was situated on your respective pieces of furniture, he flicked the light off with a comfortable sigh.
It was silent for a moment before he spoke again, his voice taking on a tone that was far too smug for your liking. “You were awfully quick to agree to sleep next to me. You don’t have a crush on me, do you?”
You knew he was teasing, but your heart rate still managed to pick up under the pressure. You had never been particularly good with awkward social situations; you rolled your eyes in the dark, thankful he couldn’t see how red you were. “No, Josh. I do not have a crush on you.”
“Okay,” he said through a melodic laugh, and you got the feeling that he’d gotten the reaction he was aiming for from you. “Should we be best friends though?”
You snorted a laugh of your own, wanting to be annoyed at how likable he was, but falling short. “You are the most peculiar person I’ve ever met, I think.” You curled up, clutching your blanket tight to your body. “But yes. We can be friends.”
“Okay, cool - I’ll order matching t-shirts for us.” You could hear the pleased grin he was wearing, making you feel warm and cozy. You pulled the worn blanket up to your chin.
“See to it that you do.”
Author’s Note: okay, I hope you guys like it! please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list or removed from it. I’m using the same taglist from my Jake!fic, so no hard feelings if you don’t want to be tagged!
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UHHHH maybe,, you could write a little thing for reki making the sk8 fam tea? and kaoru thinking hes gonna have to pretend he likes it but then "oh wait reki can actually make tea what-"
just bc this has been living in my head for awhile sdkljfs
(capt-snoozles)
It turns out I am completely incapable of writing ANYTHING short, so have a full one shot type thing, I guess. I hope it's okay that I kinda borrowed headcanons from you and @that-was-anticlimactic for Reki with TS at a couple of small moments in the fic?
----
It used to be Kaoru alone who visited Kojiro’s restaurant when it was closed on Mondays. But since the start of winter break, Sia la Luce had become much livelier now that Reki, Langa, and Miya weren’t in school all day, and Shadow came when his days off lined up right. If Kaoru were being honest, it took some time to get used to the space no longer being only his and Kojiro’s, but he’d grown to like how their group came together like this.
The afternoons were the quietest part of these days. Kojiro took these opportunities to try out new recipes on them, leaving everyone contentedly full and pleasantly sleepy. Today, Langa had actually fallen asleep in the booth, and Reki sat beside Kaoru at the counter, playing with a tiny skateboard and making soft sounds like a small motor. Shadow and Miya sat at a table across the room, arguing over whether clown or cat makeup looked cooler while Kojiro finished cleaning. Kaoru let himself sink into the lull, Reki’s noises and that of the skateboard wheels on the counter an almost comforting presence beside him. And yet, one thing was missing, keeping him from truly relaxing.
“Seems like a good afternoon for tea,” Kojiro said, as if reading his mind as he appeared out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel. “You want me to make some?”
“Absolutely not,” Kaoru scoffed. “People who microwave their tea should be arrested.”
“There’s no way you can tell the difference,” Kojiro said, defensive. “Hot water is hot water.”
“Only an uncultured pig would believe that,” Kaoru snapped. He was about to stand, to tell Kojiro he’d make the tea himself like he always inevitably had to, when Reki all but leaped from his seat, skateboard abandoned for the moment.
“I’ll make it!” he offered, and the way his face lit up meant that Kaoru took too long to say not to bother. By the time he’d found his words, Reki had already bounded around the counter and into the kitchen, and Kojiro didn’t even try to stop him. Before Kaoru could tell Kojiro to stop him, Reki called out to Kojiro, asking about the industrial stove, and soon, Kojiro was not only allowing Reki to make the tea, but encouraging him.
Kaoru supposed this was a step up from Kojiro’s microwave technique, but if Kaoru were likely to trust anyone other than himself to make a decent cup of tea, it wouldn’t be Reki. The idea that he’d wanted his tea made well and was unlikely to receive it as such set him on edge. As he listened to the water boil and the conversation continued around him, he found himself wrapping a strand of his hair around his finger and tugging, letting it go, and repeating the process until his scalp hurt. He didn’t even notice that Langa had woken up until he appeared beside Kaoru and spoke.
“What’s Reki doing?” he asked.
“Making tea,” Kaoru said, doing his best not to appear so anxious about something so small.
Langa peered over the edge of the counter to where Kojiro and Reki were talking in the kitchen, and then turned back to Kaoru. “I like how he makes it. I never liked it before I met him.”
Kaoru hummed a halfhearted response. He doubted that Langa’s standards were very high, given that he’d grown up in Canada. He’d likely had tea often enough, given that his mother was Japanese, but Kaoru knew from experience that plenty of people even here in Okinawa had no idea how to brew a proper cup. It was about timing, knowing how hot to make the water, how long to steep the leaves, and so many people rushed the process—or worse, forgot about it and steeped too long—that Kaoru preferred to make his own.
He couldn’t help but envision Reki handing him a bitter cup, or one that tasted like little more than hot leaf juice. He grimaced at the idea of having to drink it and pretend he liked it, suffering all the while. He would have to wait until he was home later to make something better for himself.
He was still trying to think of a polite way to decline the tea he’d obviously wanted when Reki came out bearing a tray of steaming cups and began making the rounds through the restaurant. Reki handed the first one to Langa, who accepted it, smiling softly up at Reki. Langa sipped the tea immediately, only to flinch and draw it away after the first sip.
Not promising, Kaoru thought. If he’d boiled the water, it was ruined, even if it was something as simple as green tea. And yet, Langa only took another sip while Reki looked on approvingly.
“It’s good,” Langa finally proclaimed, and Reki glowed as if he’d received praise from the emperor himself. Reki moved on, handing Kaoru his cup.
“Thank you,” Kaoru said, accepting it with both hands. Fortunately, Reki moved on to Shadow and Miya without waiting for Kaoru to try it, which meant that he didn’t know Kaoru only held onto it without making a move to taste it. If nothing else, he could enjoy the warmth that crawled from his fingertips all the way to his elbows.
Neither Miya nor Shadow hesitated in drinking theirs, though Kaoru couldn’t imagine they cared much how it tasted, as long as it was hot. And yet, as he watched, the two of them looked just as pleased as Langa when they tried it.
“Oh wow, the slime makes good tea,” Miya pronounced, hugging the cup close to him like a space heater.
“Damn, this is pretty good,” Shadow said, drinking deeply and draining half the cup. “How’d you even learn to make it like this?”
Reki shrugged, taking up his own cup, the last on the tray. He set the tray down on the counter and took the empty seat beside Langa. “I dunno, I guess I just picked it up over the years. It’s kinda like making skateboards, y’know? You have to figure out how all the parts fit together, and if you do it wrong, the tea doesn’t taste right.”
Kaoru looked up at him from the murky depths of his tea, brows raised. When it came to making tea, the analogy was rather profound, and Kaoru couldn’t argue it. Reki was right—tea was about the sum of its parts, the pieces fitting together perfectly. And as with building skateboards, the person making it had to know exactly how to combine each piece to create the whole.
“That doesn’t make any sense, but whatever,” Shadow said, taking another sip. “All I care about is that it doesn’t suck.”
“How come you’ve never made us tea before?” Miya asked, eyes trained on the Switch he’d pulled from his pocket now that he’d abandoned his conversation with Shadow.
“I don’t really have the patience for it,” Reki said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s kinda like, if I don’t wanna put in the time to do it right, why bother?”
While everyone was wrapped up in conversation, Kaoru finally chanced a discreet sip. If it was as bad as he’d expected, he could school his expression appropriately while they were all distracted. Perhaps he could even get away without having to lie about how good it was. And yet, when the tea touched his tongue, he paused.
It wasn’t too hot.
It wasn’t too weak or too strong.
It wasn’t too bitter and the leaves didn’t taste as though they’d been burnt.
It was, as far as Kaoru was concerned, some of the best tea he’d had outside his own home. For a moment, he couldn’t find the words to say so. He sipped it again, just to make sure he hadn’t deluded himself based on everyone else’s praise. Sure enough, it was almost more delicious the second time.
“You surprised?” Kojiro murmured at his ear, his own cup dangling from his fingertips. Kaoru jumped, nearly spilling his tea. When he turned to face him, Kojiro’s lips quirked in a smug grin, and he raised one brow meaningfully. Kaoru shot him a hard glower in return, a silent command to keep his mouth shut before Kaoru turned back to Reki.
“It’s delicious,” Kaoru said, and it wasn’t forced in the least. “I’m impressed.”
Reki, who had already immersed himself in talking to Langa, gaped at Kaoru, one of his hoodie strings falling from between his teeth. Then, he flashed a wide grin. “Glad you like it!”
“Have you ever practiced tea ceremony?” Kaoru asked, reluctantly setting his tea down on the counter.
“Nah, my parents let me try it once when I was younger, but I kept messing up the steps,” Reki said. “It’s not really fun when people get mad at you for doing it wrong.”
“I studied it for some time,” Kaoru said, remembering how the order felt comforting, how the amount of concentration it required gave his anxious mind something to focus on, how the simple yet refined aesthetic felt like clearing his head. In recent years, he didn’t have time for it with his calligraphy business, but a part of him missed it. “It’s quite a bit different from drinking tea like this, but if you wanted to, perhaps we could do a...modified version of it. Something less formal with everyone here.”
Reki’s eyes brightened, and he looked to Langa, who only seemed to share his enthusiasm. “It sounds fun, yeah! A lot better than getting yelled at by a bunch of old people because ‘tradition.’”
“I’d say so,” Kaoru said, and they devolved into talking about their favorite teas and the best ways to brew them. Kaoru couldn’t remember the last time he’d talked to someone who actually understood that tea was an art even more than it was a drink. But Reki did, and when the rest of the group finally left, leaving Kaoru and Kojiro alone in the restaurant to clean up, Kojiro nudged him with an elbow.
“You didn’t think Reki could make tea like that, did you?” he said, the words teasing but too close to Kaoru’s own thoughts for comfort.
“Shut up or I’ll leave you here to wash dishes alone,” Kaoru quipped, even as he accepted the next cup to dry. “I will admit, I was pleasantly surprised.”
“I knew you would be,” Kojiro said as he dried his hands and stretched.
“Anything is better than microwaved tea,” Kaoru said. And although it was true, he couldn’t help but look forward to the next Monday, and the last before the kids started school again.
#anyway hope you like it!#i had a lot of fun with this one#i also think kojiro's flaw as a chef is microwaving tea#even though that's not exactly a chef thing really#i tried putting some renga in here#so hopefully everyone is in character because apparently i only know matchablossom#also sorry miya and shadow have like two lines#i tried including everyone but it was SUPPOSED to be short#reki kyan#kaoru sakurayashiki#langa hasegawa#kojiro nanjo#hiromi higa#miya chinen#sk8 the infinity#sk8 fanfic#writing prompts#capt-snoozles
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Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E138 & 139 (May 25, 2021)
Hello, you lovely people! It’s Tuesday and it’s time again for TM! Tonight’s guests: Marisha Ray & Liam O’Brien! The first picture that pops up when you google his name to check the spelling for the thousandth time is him with a shaved head, which is a wild look.
Ah! According to Dani, this is likely the last Zoom Talks! I’m so happy to hear this! They complain about Laura’s internet freezing constantly whenever she was about to say something exciting.
This episode is sponsored by The Elder Scrolls Online. As I’ve recently resumed my Skyrim run, this makes me crave it all over again.
Liam talks about having to drop everything to start the Zoom call, then having 27 minutes of technical difficulties before they could even begin recording. Augh, same hat.
Beau navigating the Astral Sea & Cognouza was empowering and unsettling. “This is the coolest! Uh oh.” It’s like seeing a new piece of RL tech come out and thinking about how it will change everything, then immediately thinking about how it’ll be abused, like deepfakes.
The first interactions with the Somnovem was overwhelming. They started fighting gnolls in a medieval towns and are now fighting interstellar beings. For Beau, it felt like talking to a really drunk friend. I actually love how she phrases this. “To me, it definitely felt like when you talk to one of your friends when they’re really drunk, and you’re like, ‘oh, I see what version of this person I have right now.’ And then you catch another version of that person on a shit day, and you’re like, ‘ah, I get it, you’re having a shit day.’ But then you catch them when they’re all put together and holding it down, and you’re like, ‘okay, you only hate yourself on the fringes.’ I get that. I found the Somnovem relatable.” Dani: “I too am just a collection of different emotions just barely hanging on by a thread.”
Marisha was able to put the pieces together of the ninefold emotions pretty quickly.
They do a whole tape-review bit after Brian mispronounces Yussa that is amazing. Aside from that, the M9 are glad they got him out of the city. It felt like a die-in-the-Matrix situation for him.
Liam kind of always suspected Matt would dangle the time-travel carrot in front of him. He honestly doesn’t know which way he’d go now. “For a long time, Caleb was like, ‘this doesn’t exist, so it doesn’t matter.’” It’ll probably be a mental coin flip if it comes down to an in-game decision.
"The dice are a CW producer,” when it comes to Beau & Yasha fighting each other.
They can’t remember another prolonged encounter bleeding into another encounter directly since Thordak/Raishan & Kevdak/the herd.
Cosplay of the Week: cattheterrible on Twitter with a beautiful Yasha.
Liam thinks Matt did a great job making it feel like a pressure cooker in terms of balancing their approaches between Lucien’s party & Cree. They’re also both very pleased that their plan with the threshold crests worked - it’s one of the few plans they’ve had across two campaigns that worked. (Honorable mentions they pull: intuit charges, Gelidon, Yenk/Vorugal from C1. “Will Friedle was a better [tactician] than all of us that entire campaign.”)
As far as the nine eyes on everyone go, “we’re all just one metaphysical garbage disposal.” Omar starts barking and they joke the dog will be SAG-eligible before Dani. Ha!
Just the idea of Aeor as a relic of history is massively important. They might die at any point, but if they live, Caleb thinks it’s so important to preserve that history Indiana-Jones-style, especially since it was obviously more advanced as a civilization.
Marisha wonders if they can bring forward the piece of Lucien that is Molly. “It’s a fractal. It’s that full molecular crystalline structure that’s repeating and recurring, and even if it’s several times removed, it still feels like part of the same thing. But maybe a different version, a different timeline of what Lucien is was more or less Molly, and can we Spiderverse the fuck out of this? Can we somehow recall that programming from whatever’s buried? [...] It’s like how moving things to your Recycling Bin doesn’t really clear them from your hard drive.”
Fanart of the Week: mellifera38 with a beautiful Lucien pre-tentacles. The card award shenanigans come complete with massive fireworks green screen display, a rainbow unicorn, a cease and desist letter, eagle wings, lasers, and a PHYSICAL CARD in his hand oh my gosh, to celebrate the final Zoom Talks.
Liam is glad Essek was there to help out with the dunamantic elements of their fights. He’s doing a lot to redeem himself. Liam is also thinking a lot about endgame, long-term repercussions of how this would affect the kingdoms.
Marisha finds the weasel being Artagan adorably traumatic and hilariously tragic. Not only was this poor weasel getting dragged to hell and back, sometimes his personality gets shoved to the side to allow Artagan in. Poor thing, ha! Liam talks about one aspect of the game is that you learn things about your character as ago and then apply it backwards; “We ragged on this weasel so hard, that Matt was like ‘fuck you guys, he’s alive because there’s a fey prince inside him’ and made it retroactive through time.” He’d noticed it for a while, but because there was no downtime in Aeor, there was never a chance to casually bring it up. Beau’s confirmation of seeing something weird about the weasel was a relief that he wasn’t crazy.
It’s a lot of pressure to be the “face” of the party, especially considering Beau’s CHA stat is low. Now it feels like siblings deliberately pushing Lucien’s buttons, except with the full recognition you’re poking a nuclear bomb. It’s honestly been fun, though - she loves being a smartass to people she should ABSOLUTELY not be saying things to. In Caleb’s mind, Beau is the closest thing the group has to a responsible hero. Cad is a great sage, but Beau does what she thinks is the right thing that needs to be done.
They both laugh at this being Matt’s love letter to FF games. They should have been ready for the transformation and the amazing spectacle of the whole thing.
And that is that is that! Brian thanks the guests, Dani, and the crew. “We did it! We did Zoom. Thank you Marisha especially, and our amazing production team for figuring out a way for us to be able to do this from home and make all the artwork and everything so awesome. Thank you to everyone who has touched the show in some way and helped us do it from home.”
Is it Thursday yet?
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Sonic Boom - S3E1
Episode title: Friendship 101
Word count: about 3000 words
Author’s Note: I’m trying a rather new format for this fic, since it’s based on a TV show with various songs and camera angles. If you have any comments about whether it works well or not, please let me know!
(Also, the theme song choice is all thanks to khinesthetic, who used it here and inspired me to put it in this fic.)
Next
[cue Mr. Blue Sky by ELO (0:00-3:45)]
[The show opens on a zoomed-out view of Hedgehog Village from above. Stone walls separate the village from the wilderness outside. There are large spaces at several points throughout the structure for entry and exit. A large patch of grass with benches scattered about sits at one end of the village, and a marketplace made up of wood-and-cloth stalls runs along one of the walls. Houses are grouped in seemingly random clusters throughout the town, and the (in)famous Meh Burger stand sits all on its own, with picnic tables spread across its wooden flooring. As the music progresses, the camera begins to zoom in on the village- then on one of the streets in particular- and rotates down to eye level to face…]
Sonic the Hedgehog walked through the streets of Hedgehog Village with a bounce in his step, occasionally dancing to the music playing through his earbuds. As he wandered throughout the town, he passed the usual people running their stores, arguing over botched orders at Meh Burger, and, at one point, Aqua the Rabbit absolutely freaking out over the loss of a single follower on Angstagram (the latest social media network for moody teens).
He did a 360-degree spin before winking and pointing finger guns at Amy Rose when he spotted her haggling with the local grocery store owner. She paused briefly to wave at him with a smile. “Hi, Sonic!” she called, completely ignoring the irritated fennec in the process.
Then, the music froze and changed to something extremely ominous as she turned around to face the shopkeeper once more. A dangerous gleam appeared in her eyes as she pulled out her signature hammer. “Now then, about those prices you’ve been setting lately…”
The song cut back in as the view switched back to Sonic, who was now moving away from the scene at a slightly faster pace.
Really, though, he was more than happy to see his other friends not long after. Knuckles and Sticks were currently busy rummaging through the town’s garbage together, excitedly chatting about the latest piece of interesting junk they’d found, while Tails was fixing someone’s broken rain gutter (and attempting to ‘improve’ it in the process, which meant that it could now measure the amount and intensity of rainfall in a storm- a very useful, though unfortunately unwanted improvement).
Surprisingly enough, as he continued on his way through Hedgehog Village, he managed to get people from a few different places to wave back at him when he said hello. Although perhaps it wasn’t quite so surprising when one considered that this was one of the most cliched opening sequences that could possibly happen in any movie or TV show. Ever.
And of course, the only logical outcome of this scene led to everyone beginning to stop their usual activities and gather in one of the few open spaces in the town, clearly prepared to break into a fantastic musical dance number straight out of Broadway. Incredibly, this was one of the few moments in which everyone in the village seemed to be able to get along…
...until Eggman’s latest giant robot slammed feet-first into the ground, sending everyone off-kilter and scrambling for cover. Shrieks of panic rose in place of the music as the villagers fled the scene to hide in their houses. The dramatic entrance didn’t just ruin the mood, it absolutely crushed it with the sheer force of its impact.
And that was, obviously, when the show really began.
[cue In Your Face by Shockwave Sound (0:00-1:04)]
[Each of the five members of Team Sonic appears on a black screen with their name spelled out in their signature colors (blue, yellow, red, pink, and green) and does a couple of cool fighting moves, followed by snippets of scenes featuring them from previous episodes of the show for about eight seconds each. All five of them then appear together in their usual fighting stances, emphasizing their status as a team.
The Eggman logo then appears in an ominous, glowing red, backlighting the doctor himself and all his creations- before the lights flick on to reveal him alone in his evil lair with a green screen behind him, at which point he shrieks and covers the camera with a hand. Then, neon blue electronic lines begin to appear across the screen and the camera spirals to follow them, selecting one particular line to trace. Not long after, said line ends at a circle which, with a flash, turns into the words ‘Sonic Boom’. Beneath the title, it says ‘Ancient Secrets’ in neon blue.]
[Then the music ends, at which point the episode title- “Friendship 101”- appears for a few seconds in the same color before the show itself returns.]
Sonic scrambled to his feet and zipped over to Tails, pulling him up from where he’d fallen after the robot’s overdramatic arrival. Amy managed to do the same with both Knuckles and Sticks simultaneously, which let Sonic stare for a moment, startled, and then promptly resolve to remember not to get on her bad side anytime soon.
Soon enough, the team had scrambled into their usual positions, ready to fight. Amy and Sticks kicked the battle off by handling the various smaller robots that threatened to get too close to their team, never faltering (and in fact seeming a bit gleeful in the badger’s case) despite the sheer number of enemies. Knuckles, meanwhile, launched Sonic bodily into the air for Tails to catch, before picking up a boulder about the size of a house and lobbing it directly at the robot’s chest.
“Hey! Easy with the boulders- QuakeBot took a lot of effort to make, you know!” Eggman shrieked from above, hovering in the relative safety of his Eggmobile.
(Relative, in this case, was of course in comparison to mixing absurdly volatile chemicals in a lab, bothering Shadow at any and/or all hours of the day, or being on Tails’s bad side when the fox had a glue gun. The doctor still remembered that situation all too well, and currently ranked it as far more terrifying than merely being punted into the stratosphere by kids under half his height and about a third his age.)
Sonic paused to stare at Eggman from where he was currently dangling in the air. A smirk began to spread slowly across his face. “…what did you just call it?”
“You heard me the first time!” the doctor roared, now incredibly embarrassed. “I named it that since it makes the ground shake when it moves, like an earthquake??”
General laughter came from the heroes assembled on the ground and in the sky.
“Argh! Nobody appreciates my genius around here! Now, QuakeBot, stop standing around and start attacking!”
“I suggested TerraBot, since it still has to do with earth and is a play on the word ‘terror’, but nobody ever listens to my ideas, now do they?” Orbot muttered irritably to himself, tucked inside the Eggmobile.
“I listen to all your ideas!” Cubot offered encouragingly.
Orbot’s mouth shifted into a small smile. “Thanks, Cubot.”
Meanwhile, Sonic had been pulled into a spin by Tails, who whirled the hedgehog around before letting him shoot downwards toward the robot in a spin dash- only for him to get caught and sent flying into the nearest house.
He shook off the surprise quickly (and apparently sustained absolutely zero damage despite having literally crashed through a house, because superpowered teenagers), darting back over to the group. “Well, uh, guess it’s time for Plan B then!”
Crickets chirped in the ensuing silence. Even the robot had stopped moving to hear what he had to say.
“And the plan is…?” Amy prompted.
Sonic folded his arms with a huff. “I dunno, I thought you guys would have one!?”
The pink hedgehog rolled her eyes at that.
Tails piped up. “I have an idea! Sonic, you’re going to need to be curled up for this, okay?”
The hero promptly did just that, before emitting a muffled “mmhmm?” from inside his layers of quills.
“Alright then, Amy, I need you to hit Sonic with your hammer right at the side of this house.”
Sonic’s blood ran cold. “Whoa whoa whoa, wait a second can we maybe rethink thiaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAHHHHH!”
He ricocheted all over the palace like a pinball, slamming into several key points of the robot thanks to Tails’s rapid calculations. However, the robot was sadly unaffected by his screaming at a pitch that came dangerously close to shattering glass.
The robot was easily disabled and the attack overall quickly repelled after that. Thankfully, it took Sonic only a moment to recover from his impromptu stint as an out-of-control projectile and get back to fighting with the others…complete with a “Let’s do that AGAIN!” moment, which was met with a resounding no from both Amy and Tails.
Their ears were both still rather sore from last time, after all.
After Eggman was punted all the way back to his island by a well-placed kick from Sticks, though, the crew was about to head over to Meh Burger for a post-battle meal when they discovered that they had an entirely different problem to take care of. The villagers, who were beginning to come out of hiding after the attack, were furious upon seeing the damage dealt to their homes and stores.
“How could you let this happen?” one shouted.
Before long, the villagers found themselves a more specific target when the owner of the house that Sonic had smashed into pointed her finger directly in his face. “This mess is awful!” she cried. “And it’s all his fault!”
Within seconds, a mob of people had descended upon the overtaxed teen.
“I’ve never known a hero so irresponsible.” one fumed.
“How dare you!” the fennec from earlier roared.
The elderly wolf of the village shook her cane at him. “Shame on you!”
Sonic could feel himself beginning to tense up as the villagers turned their ire on him. Whether or not he’d admit it to anyone, he needed two main things in order to be his usual heroic, cheerful self: open space and positive reinforcement. Right now, he was getting exactly the opposite of both of those.
And he was not feeling good about it.
He looked briefly over to his friends for help, but Sticks had already vanished, Knuckles and Tails looked more nervous than anything, and Amy was already walking towards him with that look in her eye…
“Sonic, next time you do need to work on making sure the robot doesn’t catch you, you know-”
A streak of blue shot out of the village, leaving nothing but a scorched trail of grass and the snap of a sonic boom behind.
Sonic didn’t slow down until he reached the mountains- which technically wasn’t very far from the town at all, so he ran quite a bit more after that until he ended up in the middle of the jungle. Then, he sat down with his back to a tree and his arms around his knees, feeling very unheroic and overall pretty lame.
The blue hedgehog frowned at the dirt. Honestly, some days it really did feel like nobody seemed to like him. The only person who ever even suggested he was important on a regular basis was Tails, and Sonic didn’t blame him at all for not jumping into the middle of that crowd. Tails was only thirteen to his seventeen and a half years old- not exactly an age when he should be expected to go toe-to-toe with a crowd of angry adults.
Still, though. When being a hero got him all risk (no matter how low) and no reward...it was difficult for him to keep hold of that core feeling of “I can make the world a better place to live in!”, which, despite all his other claims, was truly at the center of what had motivated him to start fighting against Eggman so long ago…
[The scene morphs in a manner which shows the lighting shifting so that the sun is overhead. A sound effect of birds chirping plays over the scene change. This implies that it’s been several hours since he first fled the village.]
Sonic was still lost in thought when the snap of a twig in the bushes made him jump to his feet in surprise. The surrounding vegetation rustled ominously for a moment...only to reveal the four members of his team in front of him. He watched them all cautiously, his expression tense. More than anything, he looked ready to run at a moment’s notice- something which only served to make his friends(?) seem a little more distressed. “Uh…hey, guys?” he began tentatively.
“Sonic, I…” Amy began forcefully, before stopping herself. At first, it looked like she was about to scold him again, but then suddenly her face fell. “Listen, Sonic, we’ve all been talking a lot about what happened back at the village…and there’s something I want to say.” She gave a slightly tired sigh.
“I know we usually like to make jokes and witty commentary, but...sometimes, the world’s just a difficult place to be in.” she said. “...so we really do need to talk about serious stuff occasionally, even though I know it’s tough for you to even mention how you’re feeling. Unless, you know, it’s ‘great!’ or ‘cool!’ or something like that.”
Sonic cringed at the mere idea, looking more and more like he thought running away was the preferable option here.
“So what I wanted to say was that in a world where there are too many people trying to beat you down...what I was trying to do was tell you how to be more tolerant, because I thought that would help. I figured you can’t change how other people are going to be, just yourself, so I hoped that might make things better.
“But...I’m not actually a licensed therapist- yet, anyway. So I might have been wrong on how I went about that. Maybe...instead of telling you off for not being able to stop all those people...in the future I’ll pull out my hammer and tell them to knock it off already. Does that sound better to you?” she asked.
The blue hedgehog froze. “Ames…I...” he croaked, trying his best not to think about why exactly it felt like his throat was so tight all of a sudden.
Sticks folded her arms. “I like that plan! Those people are way too crazy sometimes…and you guys know I have a verrrrry high tolerance for crazy.”
“We can make the villagers quit bugging you together, just like how we fight Eggman!” Knuckles added encouragingly. “It’s always better that way, isn’t it?”
There was still one person who hadn’t spoken yet, though.
Suddenly, Tails crashed full-force into Sonic, squeezing him in a hug that for once he didn’t pretend to hate. “You know I’ve always, always, always got your back, right, Sonic? No matter what?” he asked, looking up at his older brother. “Even if I don’t always know how to do it right.”
The blue hedgehog simply nodded, not trusting his voice to help him maintain his ‘cool guy’ status.
“It’s okay if you don’t feel up to talking about it now, though.” the fox added understandingly, stepping back but still leaving a hand on his arm.
“But!” Knuckles added. “We won’t tell anyone if you ever decide you do need to get some stress off your chest every once in a while!” He smacked his own chest with a fist for emphasis.
“Nobody needs to know.” Sticks growled, the camera suddenly showing a dramatic angle of her face as the lighting dropped noticeably.
“Uh…that’s kinda dark.” Sonic said, holding up a finger with a bit of a confused frown, which let the lighting and camera angle zip back to normal.
“Anyway!” The pink hedgehog clapped her hands together, turning to face the group as a whole. “What do you guys think about heading over to my house and watching some movies? I’ll even…” She sighed, her whole body slumping. “…make some messy, simple, unprofessional chili dogs. In my state-of-the art kitchen. I know Sonic probably could use a pick-me-up right now, after all.”
“Thanks, Ames! You’re the best!” the hedgehog in question said cheerfully, the promise of good food and great companionship boosting his mood significantly.
Then, his posture shifted once again into something a little more vulnerable. “And thanks to all you guys. For, y’know, everything.”
“Of course!” Amy chirped.
Tails smiled at him. “No problem, Sonic.”
Sticks folded her arms. “That’s what a team’s for, ain’t it?”
“Of course it is!” Knuckles said, in that rather confusing manner where nobody was actually sure if he understood anything about what had just happened.
The echidna actually walked over to Sonic after that particular declaration, though, placing a hand on his shoulder as his face became uncharacteristically serious for a second. “Really, Sonic, we can all help you out, alright? Nobody gets to yell at our leader without getting yelled at back!” he declared, punching a fist into his other hand.
The hedgehog blinked twice before looking up at his friend. “You…just called me the leader?”
“Well, duh! That’s why everyone calls it Team Sonic, right?” Knuckles asked with a smile, letting an awkward (but genuine) grin spread across Sonic’s face.
Within seconds, the hero found himself squeezed in a big hug from all sides by his friends- and then actually lifted off the floor through a joint effort from Knuckles and Amy.
“Guys- come on! I can’t even move here!” he cried out, his legs flailing so quickly they made a vibrating noise in the air. “Guyyyyssss….” he whined, though nobody seemed to care much about his halfhearted complaints (judging by the happy expressions on their faces).
Then, the episode began to end, as evidenced by an iris out transition. The slowly shrinking circle paused for a moment on Sonic’s current expression, highlighting it against the otherwise black screen. He now sported a sheepish, if slightly pleased smile, complete with a faint pink blush on his face from all the positive attention.
Clearly Sonic liked being, well, liked far more than he let on.
Then, the circle snapped closed with a pop, and the credits began to roll.
[Voice Actors:
Roger Craig Smith
Colleen Villard
Travis Willingham
Cindy Robinson
Nika Futterman
Mike Pollock
Kirk Thornton
Wally Wingert
Bill Freiberger
Original creation by:
Evan Baily
Donna Friedman Meir
Sandrine Nguyen
Bill Freiberger
Takashi Iizuka
Writer/editor:
Solalunar “Sol” Eclipse
Thank you for watching reading.]
#sonic boom#sonic the hedgehog#miles tails prower#knuckles the echidna#amy rose#sticks the badger#i really really hope this new format was a good idea#i just had some very clear ideas about this fic that couldn't be expressed in the usual medium of character actions and dialogue#because sonic boom is very different from the sonic games and often uses camera and music-based references#(i may not roll credits every time though- just thought i'd give it a shot haha)#anyway!#i also wanted to ask: is there a particular way people would like me to use for replying to the wonderful comments i get in the tags?#because i want to let the people who take the time to leave comments know how much i appreciate it#but i'm not sure how to go about that#any suggestions?#and finally:#next time...shadow's going to show up! i can't wait to write him#as always#thanks so much for reading!#:D#sol's fanfiction
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