#this is just one of those /things/ for me (derogatory) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

userlando · 1 year ago

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lending a hand — lando norris

lando norris x fem!reader [5.5k] summary: exams are coming up and studying for it turns out to be more tedious than usual. luckily, lando is around & more than eager to lend a helping hand. warnings: 18+ fingering, dirty talk, protected sex (piv), brief oral, doggy, missionary, dom!lando, derogatory name calling, choking, slapping (lando smacks a tit and ass lol), everything is absolutely consensual a/n: HI EVERYONE!! i know it's been agesss since i came on here and i'm still kind of on a hiatus because i just haven't been feeling tumblr lately. i wrote this piece a while back for another cc but they've since then showed themselves to be a bad person and i don't wanna be associated with that. so i rewrote and added some things because i really like this one. so hopefully you do too :') i love u and miss u all so much, i'll hopefully jump back on when i've got my mojo back!! read before interacting: I suck at biology and googled every single medical term and everything it’s got to do with it. i’m so sorry if i wrote something incorrectly, please don’t come for me. thank you x

The air was stifling hot and damp, your fingers were cramping up and the words on your textbooks were starting to blur into one big mess the longer you stared at them. There were so many books laid out in front of you, pictures of cartooned organs and human anatomy that on any other day, would be of massive help. But right now they just made your head hurt even more.

When your fingers cramped up for the fourth time, you let go of your pencil and watched it land softly on the sheets in front of you. You were in serious need of a massage, tension rippling in your body that would only perish once your final exams were over and done with. It wasn’t long until you took them, two weeks to be exact but the stress was weighing heavier on you than you’d like to admit.

The only thing pushing you forward was the fact that you’d be one step closer to graduating and the promised deep massage in Monaco’s finest spa.

Your boyfriend had been the true pillar in your life. Lando been so patient and tried to help in any way he could when you’d seek comfort in his arms and awkwardly stumbled words. Poor thing didn’t know how to make your stress go away when you were at your worst, but he certainly tried his best and that was all that mattered. Lando felt helpless at those times, but he found himself relaxing when he held you and could feel the tension in your shoulders lessen.

You’d been neglecting him for over a week now, but he was nothing if not understanding and he took advantage of that time to spend more in front of his computer with his friends or even the racing sim, while you holed up in your shared bedroom.

It had made you feel a little guilty at first, seeing as it was his season break and he’d intended to spend his free time with you but your schedules didn’t align enough. There were only so many hours you could spend procrastinating before the stress got to be too much.

You’d first opted to sit next to him while he played and streamed but you’d found him too big of a distraction so it hadn’t been long before you migrated to your bedroom. Hearing him from down the hall was comfort enough.

It was as if your thoughts had summoned him, the creak of the door pulling your attention to it and you blinked away the blur in your eyes to watch his upper body and head peak through the space. The curls on his head were wild, unrulier than usual and you’d have taken a step back to admire them if you had the strength to.

“You alright?” He asked tentatively, and you nodded with a wave of your hand; Gesturing for him to come in because suddenly you were in need of his comforting hug.

He’d gone quiet in his office a while ago and you figured he’d gone offline, not hearing a peep from him. Or maybe you’d had, and just didn’t notice.

“You need a break.” Lando murmured as he stepped inside, coming to stand by the bed.

You blinked up at him and realised the blur in your eyes were from unshed tears of exhaustion. It seemed as if Lando realised it at the same time you did, letting out a surprised soft laugh as he pouted his bottom lip in sympathy.

“Darling.” He reached out both of his hands to cradle your face, thumbs reaching out to swipe beneath your eyes. “This isn’t healthy.”

“I’m not crying, I swear.” You placed your hands over his, letting out a watery laugh at the worry in his eyes. “I’m just tired. These words aren’t making sense anymore.”

Lando made a sound in his throat, turning to plop down on the bed. You tried to keep the scowl from showing on your face when he moved around the meticulously arranged papers on the sheets, but he saw it and grimaced in something you guessed were apologetic.

“How about we go out and get something to eat?” Your boyfriend suggested, laying down on his side and propping his head up with the help of his hand.

“I’m not hungry.” That was a lie.

You’d been cooped up in your room for over - you glanced at the clock and winced - three hours, and the last time you’d ate was a bowl of yogurt and granola. It wasn’t healthy, and you always made a point of eating before your insides started twisting with hunger, but it was easy to get carried away while revising.

“Don’t pull that shit on me.” Lando’s eyes rolled, reaching a hand out to nudge you in the side to garner a reaction out of you. You jumped with a startled giggle, swatting at his hand. “Just an hour and then we’ll be back, I promise.”

You shook your head, no matter how tempting that offer was. You knew yourself well enough to know that you’d go out to eat, come back and then push studying aside to cuddle in bed with him. And seeing as the both of you hadn’t gone further than kissing for the past week, Lando would definitely not protest if you procrastinated in order to spend some quality time with him.

“Lan, I love you but I really cannot abandon this until I’m done.” You gestured to the mountain of stress in front of you.

Lando followed the gesture with his eyes, stretching a hand out to pluck a notebook with your scribble on it. You watched him scan it, a furrow making its way between his bushy eyebrows and it made you smile involuntarily. He looked absolutely adorable and so very confused.

“Medical terminology…” He read before trailing off with a sound of aversion. “So… What? You need to memorise these words?”

It would be a lie if you said that you hadn’t been a little distracted while he skimmed over the pages as if he understood what the words such as Popliteal and Supraclavicular meant. You were too busy looking at the arch of his nose and the tempting pout of his lips, admiring the slight redness covering the apples of his cheeks.

His eyes flicked up and you blinked back to reality, ignoring the teasing smile playing on his lips as you answered his previous question with a forlorn nod. You watched him light up slightly as an idea struck him.

“What?”

“What if I help you out?” He asked, sitting up slightly.

You almost laughed. Help? You’d be a delicious distraction.

“How would you help me?” You asked instead, smiling as he sat up fully and waved the notebook in his hand between you two. As if that would answer your question.

“May I?” He asked and you looked at his hand hovering over the textbooks.

It took you a second to realise what he was asking and you almost shook your head no, but Lando looked too excited and you weren’t about to rain on his parade so you nodded.

He didn’t waste any time with packing everything up and placing them in a surprisingly organised pile on the floor by the bed, keeping the notebook he’d been holding close by as he scooted up the bed and laid down with his head on the pillow. You gazed at him questioningly, feeling lost.

“Wow… You sure cleared my confusion up.” You said slowly after a beat of silence.

You watched your boyfriend roll his eyes, so sassy and so Lando it made your chest hurt with adoration.

“Alright smartass. Come here.” His hand circled your wrist and the tug almost sent you flying over him. You squealed in surprise, thankfully steadying yourself before you toppled over and looked down on Lando between the curtain of hair that had fallen over your face. “Sorry.”

You slapped his chest lightly and rearranged yourself so you were straddling his thighs gently as he’d probably intended to have you do from the start. The position made unexpected arousal flare up in your abdomen and it wasn’t disappearing any time soon with the way Lando was looking up at you from his position.

“Alright, can you please tell me what’s going on?” You asked nicely and placed your hands over his where they’d snuck up and found a home on your thighs.

He freed one hand and grabbed yours, fingers slotting nicely between yours and you resisted the sudden urge to grind down on him. Something about this man made you shamelessly feral.

“Okay so, you have to memorise all this gibberish and what better way than to practice on me?” He finished his sentence by tugging softly on your hand and you bent down when you understood his silent request, slotting your lips against his.

His lips felt soft and you couldn’t help but open up to his tongue, your body automatically melting into his as his free hand found its place on the small of your back to pull you in closer.

You allowed yourself a few seconds before sitting back up in his lap, feeling slightly disoriented.

“Is this your way of getting me into bed?” You narrowed your eyes jokingly in suspicion, earning a laugh from him.

“No, I genuinely want to help. But I wouldn’t mind you in bed with me, either.” He replied, pushing his hips up to readjust his position and jostling you in the process. “Go ahead, where do you wanna start?”

You pursed your lips in thought, deciding that starting at his face and working yourself down was the best way to do it. You were, after all, already sat on his legs and had made yourself quite comfortable. With your decision made, you placed one hand on the left side of Lando’s head and got close to him.

Lando sucked his lips into his mouth, big eyes watching you in silence but his facial expression said it all. It truly had been too long since you’d had sex, but maybe there was a way of incorporating intimacy into studying. Who birds, one stone and all that.

“So, this is the frontal.” You murmured, the other hand coming up to swipe a gentle finger across his forehead before moving down to his cheekbone. “The zygomatic bone.”

Lando blinked slowly, but he stayed silent as your fingers trailed down over the slope of his nose. A giggle left your lips as he scrunched his nose, the skin moving beneath the tips of your fingers.

“The nasal,” You muttered, trailing your fingers up to gently touch his eyelids as he closed his eyes. You couldn’t help but place soft kisses over each of them, watching him flutter them open to look at you. His eyelashes were ridiculously long and seductive. You hated it. “Oculus.”

Lando shifted beneath you, tongue coming out to wet his lips and you were immediately drawn to the sheen of them. You let out a small desperate breath, closing the small distance between the two of you for a kiss. Your boyfriend made a sound in his throat and you pulled back barely an inch to whisper.

“Oral cavity.” Before diving back in for a second kiss that he was more than happy to reciprocate.

It was easy to lose yourself in his touch and the warmth of his body against yours, your hand coming up to grab his thick hair in your grip while his circled around your body to pull you flush against him.

“Lando…” You let out a small whine when he pulled back to bite on your bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth in a way that had your toes curling. “Fuck me.”

Any other day and you’d probably flush at the way you sounded so whiny, but you didn’t have time to overthink it before your boyfriend gathered up what remained of his self restraint to pull back. You chased his lips and only got a nip back, making you pout down at him.

“Keep going.” He ordered and you scooted up so your nether regions were flush against each other. He hissed your name in warning, “Don’t be a brat, finish what you started.”

You huffed and opened your mouth to protest but caught yourself when you saw the expression on his face. Shit, he really wasn’t playing around.

“Fine.” You bit out, wiggling a little in place to feel the smooth hardness of Lando between your legs.

The man in question tutted and reached out to grip your throat in a hold, gentle but it was strong enough to catch you off guard and still yourself in his lap.

“What is this part called?” He asked, awfully casual for someone who was half hard with their hand wrapped around your throat.

He flexed his fingers lightly and you searched your muddled brain for the answer, fighting the urge to moan when he squeezed. It wasn’t fair, he knew what he was doing to you.

“The esophagus.” You whispered, not daring to look away from his intense gaze as he carefully unwrapped his fingers from said body part, two of his fingers tapping your chin before resting on your bottom lip.

“Open.” He commanded softly and you did, without question.

You held his eyes as he slid two fingers inside, tasting the saltiness of his skin as he stroked over your tongue. The urge to gag hit you when he slid too far down, eyes watering when he wiggled his fingers inside teasingly.

“What’s this called?” He asked, and you could see the teasing pull of the corners of his mouth when you glared down at him.

How am I supposed to respond with your fingers down my throat? Your eyes screamed, but Lando merely raised his eyebrows and pressed his fingers forward in retaliation.

You gagged, a sound of despair escaping your drooling mouth.

You tried to reply with “Pharynx” but the words came out as a jumbled mess and you drooled down his fingers. But it was apparently good enough for Lando because he pulled back slightly to let you breathe more properly, stroking the width of your tongue in a silent command. You sucked on his fingers, cleaning them off of any saliva before he retrieved them entirely.

“Good girl.” The rasp in his voice made your stomach swoop as he smiled at you, placing his hands on either side of your hips. “Go on.”

You stared at him, not entirely sure what to do but he gave you the answer when he tugged on your t-shirt; A silent urge to take it off. You didn’t waste any time, grabbing it by the hem and lifting it off your torso; Almost falling over in the process. Lando chuckled at your eagerness and your face burned, but you refused to let that affect you. The two of you looked at one another for a beat before he dropped his gaze to your heaving, exposed chest. Never had you been happier to have foregone a bra, especially when he stroked both hands up your sides. He felt your skin beneath his palms, a shiver escaping you.

“Please,” You whispered, grinding down on the hardness beneath you. Your eyes fluttered.

“Please what?” His voice sounded teasing, bright eyes trained on you.

Instead of answering him verbally, you grabbed his hands in yours and placed them over the swell of your breasts. Lando inhaled at the feel of them in his palms, letting you squeeze his hands in yours. A moan escaped your mouth as his thumbs swiped over your nipples until they pebbled, back arching into his hold.

“So needy for me.”

His rough voice had you opening your eyes and he must’ve seen something in them because he took pity on you. The yelp that left your lips was anything but attractive when he embraced you and flipped you both over. Lando laughed when you bounced on the mattress, and you couldn’t help but giggle as the tension broke.

“Please, Lando.” You pleaded after the both of you had calmed down from your little fit, hands coming up to feel the taut of his stomach over his t-shirt.

You sounded needy in your own ears but you didn’t really care. And judging by your boyfriends teeth sinking into his bottom lip, he loved hearing you like this.

“Please what, darling?” His eyebrows drew together in fake sympathy, his gaze dropping to your chest when you arched your back.

You opened your mouth to answer him but the words died on your lips the second Lando leaned down and sucked a nipple into his mouth. You should’ve seen it coming, because he could never keep away from your tits for too long but the suction made you gasp all the same, hands coming up to grab at the back of his head.

“Just fuck me already.” You said.

Lando grabbed the both of your hands in his before pinning them to the side, suckling harsher on your teat before kissing his way over to the other side. You didn’t know what to focus on, the cool air on your wet nipple, his unforgiving mouth on the other one or the way his hands were digging into the skin of your wrists. The thought of him bruising you made you buck your hips up, craving it more than ever.

“You’re impatient tonight.” He drew back, blowing cool air on your saliva soaked skin and making you squirm. “I can’t decide whether I should punish you for being a needy little slut or fuck the brattiness out of you.”

You knew you shouldn’t talk back, but the words were out of your mouth before you could stop them.

“Anything would be better than this.” It came out as an indignant mutter but Lando’s eyes flared in challenge.

It was quick and you didn’t have time to react to his hand sailing down and slapping the meat of your breast. You yelled out in shock, feeling your pussy clench around nothing as you tried to sit up as an automatic response. Lando tutted, quickly grabbing you by the throat and pushing you down with a strength that had you gasping for breath.

“This is what happens when I don’t fuck you for a week,” He hissed, eyebrows drawn in anger but you could see the desire in his eyes as he bent down to your eye level. “One week without my cock and you start acting like a bitch.”

Holy fuck, the filth coming from his mouth made your nerves light up in anticipation. It had been too long, so fucking long since he talked and behaved like this. You hadn’t realised how much you missed it until now.

His hand let go of your throat and instead cupped your chin, his fingers squeezing your mouth together until your eyes fluttered shut in need with a moan. Lando grinned down at you, tightening his grip just to watch your eyes roll before pressing a filthy kiss to your mouth that you barely had time to reciprocate before he pulled back.

It felt like you were in a daze, feeling him pull your sweatpants off along with your panties. He made an offhand comment about the wetness that you didn’t register, choosing to grit your teeth and ball your fists to keep from touching yourself instead.

Lando undressed himself without getting off the bed, albeit a little clumsily but he recovered quick and grabbed your thighs to spread them apart. The look on his face made you flush hot all over, almost like you were a meal he couldn’t wait to devour.

“Look at that, so wet already.” He hummed in appreciation and coated one finger in your slick before sinking it inside of you, revelling in your gasps. “All this for me, baby?”

“Mmm,” You swallowed, throat drying up and eyes closing at the sensation. “Just for you, Lando.”

“That’s what I thought.” He said smugly.

He sank a second finger inside and scissored them until he deemed you stretched enough, his free hand stopping your thighs from closing when you started to feel him pull out. It had been too long since you’d been touched like this, and Lando was always so talented with his fingers. He could truly play you like a fiddle.

“Don’t.” He growled, the tone of his voice making you squirm and separate your legs obediently again. “Good girl.”

You watched him in silence as he pulled his fingers out, slipping them into his mouth to clean them off with a hum that you felt in your core. Sweat was beading on your forehead and you were sure that you looked a mess. Lando didn’t seem to mind it though, his eyes roaming appreciatively over your body before settling on your face. His eyes softened at whatever he saw in your eyes and something warm bloomed in your chest.

“Kiss me, please?” You begged, suddenly needing him near you.

Lando didn’t hesitate as he bent over to press his mouth to yours, the kiss uncharacteristically gentle consider how crudely his cock was pressing against your mound, one hand sinking into your hair to tilt your head to his liking. He broke the kiss for a moment to reach to the side, opening up the drawer with a groan and rifling through the contents. You watched in mild amusement, taking in the pinch of his eyebrows and the concentration on his face. You took the opportunity to press kisses to his shoulder and up his throat, your tongue tasting the saltiness of his sweaty skin. Lando’s unstable position faltered and you sucked a small lovebite into the delicate skin of his neck for good measure.

“Fuck.” He swore with a breathless laugh, steadying himself and sitting upright.

You smiled up at him, planting your feet on the bed and bending your legs so Lando could get even closer to where you needed him the most. His bright eyes found yours, eyebrows rising. He bit into the tinfoil, tearing it open and fishing the condom out to slip it on.

The rubber wasn’t needed, not really. But Lando knew you well enough to know when you had enough energy after the deed to clean yourself up, and today wasn’t one of those days. He would often do it himself, ignoring your embarrassing protests as he wiped you down with a cloth and eventually giving up when he swatted your hands away.

Anticipation rose in you when he positioned himself but he seemed to change his mind at the last second, a devilish smile widening on his lips when he patted the side of your hip twice. You knew what that meant and you bit your lip in uncertainty. The dreaded position you loved and hated at the same time.

“Turn around and don’t make me ask twice.” Lando said after reading the look on your face and you made a noise that sounded a lot like dislike.

But you definitely didn’t want to stall it any longer, so you turned your body around and pressed your cheek against the mattress with your eyes closed. This position hit absolutely every nerve inside of you, but it also left you completely exposed and that’s mainly why you hated it.

Lando grabbed your hips and lifted you upwards so your knees were beneath you, exhaling as he slid his hands from your ass and down your back. The feel of his palm against the skin of your back made you arch despite your initial hesitation and something about that made the man behind you feel all the more needier.

“So fucking gorgeous,” You heard him whisper and you believed it. “Can’t wait to sink into this pretty little cunt.”

Unexpected heat shot down your back and you moaned, pressing back against Lando in hopes that he’d finally get the hint and fuck you. Your hands gripped the sheets on either side of your bed in anticipation at the thought.

“Fuck me, please.” It came out as a whispered plea.

“I will, don’t worry, love.”

And with that promise, he nudged himself inside. You arched in response, eyes shutting as he started pushing inside little by little. The stretch was incredible, making your toes curl and mouth open in a silent moan. Lando let out a sound of his own as he bottomed out, one hand grabbing your hips while the other settled over the small of your back to push down gently. You arched, and he seemed to like that because he immediately drew back before thrusting back in.

He found a rhythm you assumed he liked and you matched it by pushing back when he pushed in. A wave of heat overtakes you and your eyes roll in your sockets the harder he thrusts; Like a man on a mission, eager to bury himself inside you as far as he can go.

It hadn’t occured to you just how badly you’d been neglecting Lando lately, but it was evident in how his hands grabbed anywhere he could find purchase, your name leaving his mouth in a chant as he fucked you harder. You needed this as much as he did.

“Fuck, oh my God.” You tried to pull your hand back to touch yourself but you were jostled too harshly and you ended up being thrown off balance.

A high pitched whine left your mouth as Lando slipped out and just as you were about to turn your head to look at him, he’d grasped your hips and turned you around on your back. He reached for the pillow next to your head, stuffing it under your hips and kissing just beneath your navel in the process as a silent praise for raising your hips without him having to ask.

You watched with bated breath as he pressed kisses down your stomach, over your mound before latching his mouth onto your clit. The unexpected touch of his sinful mouth had you throwing your head back, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Oh my God, Lando...” You moaned, attempting to tilt your head down so you could watch him but he was quick to flick his tongue against your clit and it only made you arch into his mouth.

Lando was holding the base of his cock, squeezing and willing himself not to blow too soon. He’d been waiting to get inside you long enough and he wasn’t about to end it before he’d had his fill of you. When he deemed it safe enough, he pulled away and positioned himself between your legs before sliding in. His teeth sunk into his bottom lip at your reaction, loving the flutter of your eyelids and the pretty way your mouth opened in a pathetic moan.

He couldn’t help but lower himself down onto you, mindful as to not suffocate you but just enough for you to feel the press of his chest against yours as he started fucking into your wet heat.

You took it like a champion, arms circling his upper body and legs falling open as he fucked you into the mattress with reckless abandon. The stress you’d been feeling the past week was slowly seeping out of you, and you welcomed the feeling of it as you brought Lando to your mouth, kissing him until you lost your breath.

“You’re so pretty,” Lando murmured against your lips breathlessly. “My pretty baby.”

He slid one hand between the two of you, long fingers finding your clit and rubbing it in a way that had you crying out against his mouth. Lando refused to blink, didn’t want to miss the look on your face as he brought you closer to euphoria.

“You know what this is, baby?” He asked, hand cupping your pussy and trying not to falter when he felt where the two of you were connected.

Fuck, you were soaking and Lando was really about to blow.

“This is mine.” He hissed, watching the way your eyes rolled before shutting. “Only I get to fuck it, you hear me?”

You opened your mouth to respond that yes, of course it fucking is - but the loud cry that left you instead surprised the both of you as your body tensed up, pussy clenching around his cock as you sobbed through your orgasm. Liquid heat trickled down your back and you momentarily blacked out at the sheer force of you tensing up in your climax.

“Oh fuck.” Lando hissed, dropping his head against the crook of your neck and fucking into your clenching pussy.

If your sounds and the look on your face wasn’t enough to bring him to his end, then the feel of your legs circling around him and locking him into place was enough to do his head in. You moaned weakly as he tensed up in your arms, shooting into the condom and grinding into your sensitive cunt, like he wanted to bury himself as deep as possible.

He probably didn’t realise that in his high, he’d dropped his entire weight on you but you absolutely didn’t mind it; Finding comfort in his heaving body and the feel of his damp hair as you buried your fingers into it.

“God, you’re gonna fucking kill me.” He garbled against your skin as he pulled himself out of you, lifting his head weakly to take a look at you.

You couldn’t help but grin at his flushed face and blown wide pupils, feeling thrilled that this gorgeous man loved you. And you loved him, so much.

“I could really go for a sandwich from the deli down the street right now.” You whispered dreamily, closing your eyes shut as he brought a shaking hand up to swipe a few damp strands from your forehead.

Lando pulled a face.

“If you think we’re not gonna order in, you’re sorely mistaken.”

He shook his head at the thought of leaving the bed - leaving you naked in his bed - to buy sandwiches. No matter how absolutely amazing they were. You blinked up at him with big eyes, pouting your lip and Lando knew right then that he’d lost any willpower he’d had left.

“Oh, you’re good.” He narrowed his eyes, sneaking his hands down to tickle your sides.

You squealed, squirming underneath him and yelling at him to stop, your body too weak to fight back. Lando kept going for a few seconds before he let you push him to the side so you were half laying on top of him instead.

“You’re evil.” You glared at him, but he could see the twitch of your raw lips and the love in your eyes so he didn’t take it too hard.

Lando gripped your chin gently and brought you in a for a kiss before pulling back to look at you. You blinked back and he smiled.

“Alright I’ll go down to the shop in one condition.” He said, trying to sound serious despite the massive grin on his face. “You hop in the shower, and then I want all these books gone from this room by the time I get back. We’re taking the rest of the night off.”

You suppressed a smile at the “we”, nodding your head reluctantly instead because for once you weren’t overwhelmed with stress and you weren’t about to bring it all back when Lando had worked so hard to relieve you of it. Hopefully he’d relieve you of it a couple more times later tonight.

“It’s a deal.” You agreed verbally, bringing your pinky to hook into his own.

“Alright, let’s get to it.” He brought an arm around and slapped your ass.

You jumped with a gasp, glaring at your boyfriend who cackled and jumped out of bed before you could kick him in retaliation. He looked amused as he walked around the bed to find tissues and get rid of the condom, cleaning himself up the best he could. He found the clothes he’d thrown on the floor, pulling them on all the while watching you stretch on the bed like a cat. It was so tempting to crawl back into bed and have his way with you but he gritted his teeth and turned to locate his wallet and phone.

“Text me your order, I’ll see you in a bit.” He said and leaned down to press two kisses to your lips, making a noise in his throat when you wound your hands in his hair and pulled him closer for a few more kisses. “I love you.”

You grinned against his mouth, teeth knocking together but you were too happy to care as he nipped your lower lip and pulled himself up to stand straight.

“Love you too. Be safe.”

You watched him walk out, smiling to yourself at how incredibly lucky you were.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #f1 fic #f1 smut #lando norris smut #lando norris fanfic

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linkcharacter · 4 months ago

Note

Really like the recent analysis. I know I speak of curly in a more defensive way than most but I generally try to get the point you made across at the end of the day with my analyses on him and his behaviors.

People love to lock analyses around Curly solely based on what he could’ve done as a physical action and have this avoidance to acknowledging the realistic barriers at play when it comes to those solutions. It’s. The game tries to treat the pre-crash section as if they are grounded in social and organizational realities. So the what if he did this questions about the situation always fall short when the real answer is he either couldn’t or it wasn’t an actual viable option. But then when they talk about what he actually did do it’s surrounded by such bad faith interpretations that his actions were completely intentional or still not affected by outside sources. He’s a very much “road to hell is paved with good intentions” character. He cared too much and that’s a big part of his problem.

There’s such a “perfect victim or nothing” mindset in the fandom where people can’t admit that there are no such things as perfect victims but that also shouldn’t mean that even if there were it would absolve them of the mistakes they made. People want to moralize every action of every character that they don’t realize that some actions are done without any specific morale factor. People just do things, like you said. People assumed failed intentions immediately flip the thought process behind them “he meant to do good but bad happened, he must be bad” and that just is not how people work. It’s how perceptions work but only of the observer.

It’s such a sensitive topic because, yes, you are supposed to be frustrated, even mad, at what Curly didn’t do, but you have to acknowledge the fact these were good intentioned acts even if that good intent did jack squat in the end. That his responses are human and it’s supposed to be uncomfortable and hurt that they were realistic faults of his.

He enabled his friend and it ended bad for everyone including him. No one really tries to argue this fact but everyone seems to think it has to be tied to the morale dilemma and not certain human natures and social factors.

This is all to ask, why do you personally lean towards thinking Curly wouldn’t turn Jimmy in? Are you speaking in the short term of realizing how bad he got or long-term/overall? I feel like he could but it would not be easy and no matter the necessity he’d always have this guilt at feeling bad for doing it.

Ah yes Curly the most imperfect human man character.

Yep yep yep absolutely, people love to assign morality onto characters and call them good or bad and diminishing the depth and nuance of Mouthwashing, filling discussions with bad-faith interpretations or speculating on inconcrete understandings of the incomplete, intentionally vague, context. I adore Mouthwashing to no end for having this oppressive suffocating and constant atmosphere surrounding everything in the game. Really shows off that the environment festers, no one well-meaning guy could create a happy ending with individual actions alone because it's all systematic.

To elaborate from your question tho, at the point Curly was in (if Anya wasn't pregnant scenario), definitely no don't think so (would depend on Anya a too on whether or not she would go to the authorities outside). Curly knew Jimmy was a danger, and I do believe that subconsciously Anya's report to him on Jimmy gnaws at him, but not vividly enough. I want to point out a moment where Anya tells him about the pregnancy, he begins asking "Who would you-", then he's nudged by Anya that she told him and he should know who it is, and he does, instantly saying he's known him a long time and will talk to him. That moment of, for a second not connecting that Jimmy is the assaulter responsible just makes me drag my palm across my face for how much of a man (derogatory) Curly acted like for one dialogue line. Like he just 'forgot' for a brief moment that Jimmy harassed Anya prior? Granted, he instantly believes and takes Anya seriously, immediately dropping the search for the gun he was on in that scene, realizing the severity of the situation and of Jimmy. We also don't know what Anya has told him specifically, how long ago it happened, etc. but the 'implications' of the scene make me believe Jimmy's known sexual harassment on the ship slipped Curly's mind due to him being more invested in "the bigger picture" of Jimmy, not latching onto a harmful and a very serious fucking trivia fact about Jimmy because of his perception of who his friend is as a whole (and with his foggy sleep-deprived mind at the moment), 'losing a needle in a haystack' with how much unknown history Curly and Jimmy shared, so to say.

Maaaybe in some other circumstances, like if Jimmy didn't crash the ship or smth long term I could see him doing it, it would take a lot effort like you said, no matter the necessity. We will never know. If we're going into speculation and imaginary scenarios though, if Anya HERSELF were to try and get justice, Curly would be backing her up undoubtedly (still not disconnecting himself from Jimmy though and feeling guilt on his behalf). But that's all suppositions from my reading of the characters.

#mouthwashing #mouthwashing game #curly mouthwashing #jimmy mouthwashing #anya mouthwashing #i am so enjoying this dude like having a civil discussions is so euphoric fr like man thanks for the thoughts #asks #linkch yaps

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huginsmemory · 7 months ago

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Ideology of Exceptionalism and Gravity Falls; meta and character analysis

I had a whole ago read a post by @icanlife that had a quote by Alex Hirsch on Ford's greatest flaw, and wanted to explore what the flaw is, which is the ideology of exceptionalism; in the exploration, I’ll touch on what it is and how it is used in abusive relationships and cults, as well as how it drives multiple Gravity Falls characters and consequently how it impacts relationships between these characters, and how the show ultimately refutes exceptionalism.

Quick note here; I am not in any way, shape or form a psychologist nor have any formal training in psychology; this is written from my own experiences with this ideology and my own forays into psychology and trauma-informed learning. It is also written with a loose understanding that is likely not broad enough to cover all references to cults, extremist groups and abusive relationships.

The Ideology of Exceptionalism

First of all, we have to get through a drier bit, which is… what is the ideology of exceptionalism and how does it arise? Might be fairly obvious, but it is the belief that you are, or belong to, a group of exceptional people, thus more important and worth more than anyone else; ie, those who don't qualify as 'exceptional'. It is often a subconsciously learned ideology. Now, what qualifies one as exceptional can be extremely varied; generally it revolves around something that provides some form of privilege. Thus, it might be, as the main exceptionalist idea in Gravity Falls, 'intelligence', or power, or it can be such things as attractiveness, quantity of money one has, species, nationality, or skin colour and ancestral heritage. The ideology of exceptionalism, being by nature hierarchical, devalues, and at its worst, openly and violently dehumanizes those who do not qualify as exceptional.

For why exceptionalism occurs is an extremely broad topic, but I've personally found that, for exceptionalism revolving around intelligence, it's a result of a poor sense of self-worth, and having one's self-worth tied to what makes one exceptional. Poor self-worth itself (again, broadly) is a result of childhood trauma from a lack of positive affirmation and unfulfillment of the emotional needs of the child. Meanwhile, self-worth becoming tied to the quality of exceptionalism generally is a result of when positive affirmation was pretty much solely provided around their 'exceptionalism', especially when provided derogatory commentary, or a blatant example of how they would be treated if they aren't 'exceptional'. As a result of the general lack of affirmation, self-worth then becomes often solely reliant on the qualities of exceptionalism, as that is the only way for the child (and later, adult) to get affirmation of their worth, as well as out of fear of being ‘not worth anything’ like the examples of ‘non-exceptional’ people they have been given.

This is especially likely to occur when the child is a social outcast; the adoption of the hierarchical ideology of exceptionalism, and the devaluation/dehumanization of others often occurs subconsciously as an avoidance/minimization tactic from pain. This is to say, the child, and later the adult (if healthy self-worth is not established) goes 'it doesn't matter what the non-exceptional people say or if they accept me since I matter more than them because of my exceptionality'. It can even be taken further, that being shunned is part of one's exceptionalism, and becomes part of the qualifier of being exceptional. For instance, 'they just can't understand because they aren't exceptional and that's just a part of being exceptional'. This idea also neatly tailors into the part of the concept of being better then others means you are separate from others; this can be taken that someone who is special, needs to be alone to be truly special.

Obviously, exceptionalism is not a healthy coping mechanism for poor self-worth, as often such people constantly feel the need to prove and show off their exceptionalism to gain that affirmation and avoid rejection, which is stressful. As well, it often negatively impacts their relationships with other people as a result of the arrogance of believing that they are better than most others, or even deliberate sabotage due to their arrogance. This occurs as they flatten the complexity of human experience to black-and-white hierarchical categories of exceptional/not-exceptional through constant judgement of those they meet, and often refuse to engage with people who don't belong to their 'exceptionality', or even people they simply don't like, even if they technically qualify. Generally, those that they do like or have close relationships with, often due to being similar, are automatically labelled as 'exceptional'. Those judged as ‘exceptional’ also become privy to the open judgements of ‘non-exceptional’ others, out of a subconscious belief by the exceptionalist that the other believes similarly; something that may strain their relationship if the other doesn’t ascribe to exceptionalism. This all culminates in the exceptionalist being blind or even adverse to the diversity of experiences, which makes it difficult to create relationships and community outside of echo chambers of their own beliefs (if they can even find this), and subsequently, these people are often isolated and have very few to no close relationships with people.

However, all humans require connections with other people, relationships where one can rely on others emotionally and physically if needed and feel accepted; they also require to feel like they are worth something, that their life has meaning. Lacking meaningful connections and having a crippled sense of self-worth, a deep yearning hole is left in these people. Exceptionalism, especially as it is a narrative constantly pushed by Western society as it validates hierarchies, is then employed as a (often subconscious) trauma response to assuage this yearning hole, with arrogance and denial. And depending on the circumstances, it can be a very strong and definitive trauma response for people.

This isolation and lack of self-worth is catnip to abusive relationships, including cults and extremist groups. These types of relationships often heavily rely on isolating their victims or pulling them into echo chambers of solely the abuser’s rhetoric, to redefine what is healthy through gaslighting; as the exceptionalists are already isolated, this makes them extremely susceptible. They also often provide these people affirmation, and in these cases especially about their exceptionalism, thus confirming their self-worth, their 'specialness', while also providing them the connection they have been lacking, either through the cult community or through the abuser’s own presence. These emotional needs, which haven’t been met in a long time, if ever, begin to be fulfilled; something that abusive relationships and cults hinge on, rather than any form of logic.

Ideology of Exceptionalism and Gravity Falls

The main characters within Gravity Falls which are heavily ascribed to exceptionalism would be both Ford and Bill; this characterization deeply impacts the story and their relationships with others (technically the Northwest are another case regarding wealth, but less directly impact the storyline and thus tangential; Gideon also is an example, but as a mirror of Bill). With each of these characters I’ll go into detail within their sections on the way they began to ascribe to exceptionalism, and how it plays out later in their relationships; I will first begin with Ford, then move to Bill. Then, to cap it off, I’ll go into the characterization of Stan and the way Gravity Falls refutes exceptionalism.

Ford and Exceptionalism

Firstly, the quote from Alex Hirsch that kicked this whole baby off, as mentioned previously;

“Ford sees Dipper as someone who’s special like himself. That’s Ford’s great flaw, his arrogance is he believes that there’s special people, and everyone else. That human attachments are actually weaknesses. And the song and dance that he’s giving Dipper right now, is the song and dance that he gave McGucket, back when they were younger… ‘You and me are different, we’re better than everyone else. We have a path that no one else can understand, and only us can do this.’ It’s a very seductive idea for Dipper… Dipper is a smart kid, but Ford’s projecting. Ford loves Dipper because he sees someone who’ll tell him ‘yes’ to everything. Who’ll never challenge him, who’ll do a really insane dangerous mission.”

Very blatantly Alex Hirsch calls Ford out on his arrogance in the belief that he is special, in his belief in the 'lone hero' complex, in his belief in exceptionalism. And really, it should be no surprise that Ford does so, considering the way he's depicted as a social outcast as a child (other than Stan), and the way his parents have been clearly shown to be not particularly emotionally supportive (“I’m not impressed”); they don't provide positive affirmation except for his intelligence (mostly due to the possibility of money making through it…), while also actively comparing him to Stan who is derogatorily ‘not-exceptional’, and ‘worth less’. This all sets Ford’s self-worth up to be fragile, and other than Stan who wholeheartedly accepts him, he is isolated and invalidated; plus, the only other validation he receives is around his intelligence. All very classically fitting the profile for exceptionalism.

Image id: Stand and Ford when they were children, both clearly enjoying each other's company.

Ford’s belief in his exceptionalism catalyzes after the shattering of his and Stan’s relationship. Previously the twins are shown to do everything together, having a very close caring relationship; something unlikely if Ford thought he was better than Stan. Also, when Ford is talked to about his opportunities, Ford looks uncomfortable at the way they talk about Stan as inferior, compared to how he himself is being praised; but in the offer he’s simultaneously finally being validated, he’s being told he’s someone worth something, and he’s going to be someone worth something after this. And then the science fair incident occurs, and Ford loses that validation from his parents, from the judges and a future of more validation; after being promised validation and acceptance, it slips through his fingers. And in his anger of being denied that, it becomes easy to begin to slip subconsciously into the rhetoric the others have been feeding him; that he’s exceptional, that Stan isn’t, and he deserved to be recognized for his worth. So he breaks the relationship with the only person who accepted and validated him for who he is. With that loss of previous support, Ford becomes then deeply obsessed with proving his exceptionalism to the world to assuage that fragile self-worth, to become accepted, or even better, revered, confirming that he is someone of worth, someone special, like he was promised.

Ford’s obsession also doubly functions as a way to alleviate his guilt over shattering their relationship; if he’s exceptional as he believes, then he’s within the right to respond the way he did, as he’s worth more than Stan, he's better off alone, and he has a right to be angry over being denied that validation. As well, in much the same way as it is used as a way to alleviate his guilt over the end of their relationship, it is also likely used in a way to minimize the pain of being ostracized (although not directly depicted); afterall, Ford’s keenly aware and insecure about his social ineptitude and his six fingers as things that make him different from other people, case in point with his experience visiting Lazy Susans Diner. Thus it wouldn’t be unsurprising if he uses the idea of being worth more than those who ostracize him to imply it ‘doesn’t matter’ what they think. His ostracization by nature keeps him from generally forming close relationships, with the exception of Fiddleford (who much like him, is socially outcast, and intelligent) during his university days. As a result, he's isolated and acutely lonely, having lost Stan.

Image id: One of the missing Journal 3 pages in TBOB, detailing Ford's botched social interaction in Lazy Susans Diner. In the background is the print of his six-fingered hand.

In his obsession over being acknowledged, Ford, like many others who believe in exceptionalism, identifies strongly with the causes of his ostracization (his intelligence, his six-fingeredness) as part of, or wholly, makes him exceptional. It is obvious through his choice of study; with the grant he has been gifted, he chooses to revolve his work around the weird, the outcast, something that you see Ford gravitate towards being an outcast and deemed 'weird' himself (which in Journal 3 he openly talks about). Something that can be, much like him, framed as 'exceptional'. His work is even recorded in a journal that Ford deliberately chooses to put his six-fingered hand on the cover of. Intertwined with the way it becomes adopted into the idea of exceptionalism, is the keen loneliness from his ostracization and a deep desire to be accepted and a wish to find a community of other weird people.

Image id: Two pages from journal 3, labelled 'Myself', in which Ford is open about being weird, and a social outcast, while also noting his ambitions and that 'Gravity Falls, [is] the place that I fit in.'

Ford and Bill

All of this culminates in Ford becoming an incredibly easy target to manipulate by Bill. He’s desperate to be acknowledged (and thus accepted) by an authority figure so that his belief in exceptionalism is justified and his self-worth confirmed. And he knows he’s intelligent, that he's exceptional because people have told him so, but he just needs to prove it with something that shakes the world. And the grant is finally his second chance after the fair, but he's stuck, and the research is going nowhere, and he's in a town where he doesn't really know anyone and he’s so terribly lonely. And sure, he clings to his exceptionalism but if he can't even prove it then is he really exceptional? Is he even worth anything like he thought he was? And what about what he's left behind, rejected, because of his exceptionalism?

And THEN he finds an incantation and he ignores the warnings because maybe, just maybe, this will be his break to get that acceptance/validation he has been chasing his whole life?

And then it's better than that.

A god, essentially, shows himself to him, an ultimate figure of authority. And he tells him that yes, he is special, he’s worth more than other people, and Bill’s only showing himself to Ford because he is so much more intelligent than anyone else. Ford is suddenly getting his exceptionalism confirmed by a god of ancient knowledge, an immensely intelligent interdimensional being, and he’s also showering him with affirmations, specifically affirmations around what Ford's fragile self-worth is based on. And even better, he's delighted by Ford's six-fingeredness; he's not put off at all, it even becomes his main nickname for Ford, just like it used to be for Stan all those years ago. On top of it all, Ford's own social ineptitude doesn't phase Bill, another thing Ford is self-conscious about; Bill's own social ineptitude as he's not human probably makes Ford feel comfortable, knowing that's not expected from him.

Through Bill, not only does Ford find someone who validates his self-worth through intelligence and even confirms to him that his weirdness is part and parcel of making him special, he also finds someone who he regularly (generally) is in contact with, who enjoys talking to him and even banters with him familiarly. Hell, Bill even deliberately goes out of his way (literally possessing a whole wack ton of rats, then dream karaoke) to celebrate his birthday with him; how long do you think Ford has simply skipped his birthday since he had no one to really celebrate it with? The loneliness, beneath his arrogance and belief in exceptionalism, is being fulfilled; for the first time since Ford was a teenager, he's fully accepted by someone, social awkwardness, six fingers, exceptionalism and all.

Image id: One of the lost pages from Journal 3 in TBOB, the 'one thing led to another' page, with Bill and Ford singing karaoke and drinking together, both clearly enjoying themselves; Bill has an arm slung around Ford's shoulders.

So it's really no surprise at all that Ford fell for this, hook line and sinker. Hell, if I was in Ford's shoes I would fall for it just as hard. And I've seen a few posts floating around talking about how Bill is bad at manipulating, and no, he's not. He was able to pinpoint exactly what Ford wanted and needed, and provided that, was charismatic enough to provide that. Again, manipulation isn't about logic. It really isn't; it's about the emotional core in people, what people lack and what you can give them to slowly reel them in to sing your dance and song. And people will ignore vast swaths of red flags when you're finally being accepted, when you're finally getting your emotional needs met at least in some way or form. It's better than not having them met at all, such as previously. So Ford worshipping Bill is really not a surprise, especially as Bill deliberately stoked it.

All of this is part of why you see Alex Hirsch call Ford's belief in his exceptionalism his greatest flaw; because it allowed him to be very easily manipulated by Bill, and by its nature kept Ford isolated from others, evident by his arrogance in assuming he knows best and refusing to see other people who aren't as 'intelligent/weird' as him as worth getting to know, listen too and even reach out to ask help from, it's him believing he has to be the lone hero as someone whose 'special'. It's something that blinds him to the danger of his work around the weirdness of gravity falls because he’s desperate to seek a place where he and his weirdness belong, and it's something that plays out in each and every relationship he has because it's something he clings to so deeply. It's what cost him his relationship with Stan, who previously accepted him completely, and, as he's disinclined to form new relationships and as Bill actively strokes his paranoia (Trust No One…), ultimately further increases the hold Bill has over him. It's only Fiddleford’s presence as he works with Ford that allows him some form of outside reference and reprieve from solely Bill’s influence, something that Bill resents deeply and is clearly jealous and angry about, even if Fiddleford is helping create the portal. And it's ultimately Fiddleford, once he was aware enough of what was happening, calls Ford out on it, seriously jeopardizing Bill's influence over Ford; but Ford is too invested in the portal, in chasing his own ambition and caught up in Bill’s manipulation to take him seriously, until the incident with the trial, and Ford beginning to hear other voices then Bill.

Ford’s Exceptionalism and Wider Relationships

Now back to how it plays out in all Ford's relationships; we've already gone over it with Bill's influence, because it made him extremely easy to manipulate, and with his disregard of Stan in favor of validation of his exceptionalism. But Ford, as pointed out by Alex Hirsch, also exerts the ideology's seductive rhetoric to both Fiddleford and Dipper (who look up to Ford) in a similar way that Bill does with him (although there is a difference of it being used intentionally and maliciously, compared to subconsciously and earnestly, even if it is problematic). Ford, with his black-and-white view of exceptionalism, sees both Fiddleford and Dipper as people who are like him; 'exceptional', and so he treats them as such, and uses this rhetoric to coerce them into helping him.

For Fiddleford, the lure is how he can change the world, how he can be finally acknowledged if he helps Ford with the portal. And it works well; he willingly chooses to leave his own work and his wife and young son, to work with Ford. Much like Ford, Fiddleford himself is also a social outcast and regularly presumed less smart than he is, and he’s got a chip on his shoulder to prove himself, to gain acknowledgement and recognition from the world at large. Although Fiddleford has a family which presumes he’s not entirely lonely like Ford is, he also clearly has deep feelings for Ford, some which are hinted to be more than just ‘friendly’ feelings; it is likely the combination of the lure of validation and spending time with Ford, a kindred spirit that accepts him and an old friend/crush, that causes him to agree (afterall, it was Ford who made Fiddleford feel accepted and choose to stay at Backupsmore). And Fiddleford’s not even considered a partner, but rather an assistant to Ford due to Ford's arrogance, and he still drops everything to go! It’s more about their relationship and connection rather than validation, but that doesn’t stop Ford from espousing exceptionalism. And this is a distinguishing difference, because although Fiddleford would like recognition, he’s not there solely because of it; he’s not a believer in exceptionalism nor arrogant about his skills, and so, unlike Ford who is blinded by his obsession, he’s much more aware of the dangers of the weirdness of Gravity Falls. Thus, he's actively calculating the risks involved, and when he realizes there could be potentially devastating consequences of the portal, he attempts to talk Ford out of it; this fails due to Ford’s own denial and obsession over the portal. In the end, it all goes terribly sideways, and Fiddleford ends up losing everything he had; his wife, his son, his friend, his memories and himself to the trauma he had experienced at the invitation of his friend with the lure of validation and company, due to the memory gun he had created himself.

As for Dipper, much like Ford, he also has issues with self-worth (many of the episodes deal with Dipper finding self-worth; ie, the manotaur episode), has a physical oddity (his birthmark) and by far the trait he relies on most for worth is his intelligence (for example, in one episode he rubs it into Mabel's face over and over again in beating her in games). He's also extremely desperate to be recognized by authority figures as someone intelligent, case in point when he summons the dead after being made fun of by the government agents to try and show them that the information he's gathered is important after Stan dismisses his knowledge. This desperation to be seen as someone of worth from Dipper, much like Ford, extends to the need to be a hero, something he even says at the end of the zombie episode; yet, due to Mabel, unlike Ford he's not a lone hero, and Mabel also half the time acts as the hero.

Image id: Zombies crawling out of a crack after Dipper summons them; Dipper and the two agents look on in horror.

It all culminates in Dipper hero-worshipping Ford when he returns; really, no different than Ford worshipping Bill. And Ford clearly finds it extremely flattering; Dipper's attention and amazement of him feeds his exceptionalism. Exactly how Ford responded to Bill, Dipper is willing to do anything for Ford, excited too, in an attempt to impress Ford and be validated and accepted. And for Ford, that's an extremely heady feeling, especially as someone who has been constantly alone the last 30 years, especially when he had one previously confirm his exceptionalism all those years ago and stopped, and now someone is once again affirming that idea. And Ford doesn't have to be alone again, because he's found a kindred spirit in Dipper as his assistant, someone ‘just’ like him, someone who is exceptional. Because he sees himself in Dipper, he begins to espouse exceptionalism unconsciously, by praising Dipper's own intellect and adventurous spirit, assuaging his feeling of self-worth, while also telling him he's more important or better than others because of it.

And it's seductive to Dipper, because he wants to hear those affirmations of his self-worth, especially as he hero-worships him, but Dipper isn't sold on it, because it means leaving Mabel behind, it means believing that he's worth more than Mabel (and also, Stan, and all his friends he’s made in Gravity Falls). It's ultimately because of his relationship with Mabel that he rejects the ideology; he's not isolated the way Ford was with Bill, and he's not willing to break that relationship for that acknowledgement, because his relationships matter more to him.

Bill and Exceptionalism

Now of course, that's only on the Pines; what about Bill?

While it's obvious that Bill uses exceptionalism as a main manipulative tactic, it's not just an ideology he sprouts emptily; it's also an ideology he believes in, just like Ford, although it's less based on intellectual exceptionalism, and more on power and 'weirdness'.

This most distinctly can be seen in Bill's denial about what happened to his home dimension; Bill's belief in his exceptionalism occurs as a pain avoidance tactic from killing his whole dimension. Bill was clearly a social outcast within his dimension due to being able to see 3d; he's not accepted, and not trusted, to the point that there is medical intervention to make him blind. That's a deeply traumatic experience that completely erases one sense of self-worth, where one’s sanity is called into question by your parents on something that is not harmful, that's beautiful and you just want to share with them. It's a deep and clear rejection of who Bill is, and his ability. As a result, out of a desperate bid to be understood and accepted, he ends up trying to show them the stars. And it ends up killing everyone.

Image id: Page of TBOB, on 'The Early Years' which notes that Bill was an oddity for seeing 3d, something that was illegal to speak about. Bill frames it as something that made him 'special' and better than all the others.

Traumatized, and originally rejected by the dimension, he instead weaves an excuse of exceptionalism; that it doesn't matter what he did to them because he's exceptional and he's worth more than all of them because he can see 3d, because he's powerful, so he shouldn't/'doesn't' feel any remorse about it. With such a traumatic result of trying to be accepted by people, he rejects the idea of trying to be accepted for who he really is; instead adopting a facade of a monster that he believes he is (and eventually, becomes).

Even if he clings to the delusion of exceptionalism, and shuns attempts to find true acceptance, he still wants it; and that's where his henchmaniacs fit in, as they're all, as Bill's noted when trying desperately to get Ford to join him, weird; each has something 'wrong' with them, which is why Bill accepted them as his lackeys (although it's not like we know the context around these). It's a surface-level acceptance however, one more predicated on fear than emotional acceptance. He's taken his 'weirdness', much like many do who believe in exceptionalism,as ‘part of what makes him exceptional'.

In the same way that Ford wants to show the world that he's smart and intelligent by building the portal, Bill does so by wreaking havoc and taking over existences as a way to show the world that he's powerful, that he's someone to be reckoned with, that he's not someone to be ignored because he's someone who's worth more than others. If you can't be loved and accepted, then being hated and feared is better than being ignored; acknowledgement at least approaches acceptance, it's validation of some sort of worth. It also functions as deliberate self-sabotage of his morals, by proving that he is the monster that killed his entire dimension; if that's what he is, then that's who he's going to be, because if he wasn’t, then he has to come face to face with his remorse over what he did to his dimension and his whole house of cards around his exceptionalism and not caring collapses. So instead he keeps feeding the delusions the denial, and lies and lies and lies and keeps lying to ignore all of it, to wrap himself in this shroud of exceptionalism and brutality as a way to function. And it somewhat works, because he's mostly deluded himself about it all, even if subconsciously he knows.

And of course, this display of Bill's exceptionalism is what brings Bill to earth, to Gravity Falls, and to manipulating humans. In meddling with earth and humanity, beyond Bill's goal of taking over earth and fleeing his own unravelling dimension, he also enjoys reaping the benefits of being worshiped by humans, who find him awe-inspiring. Their amazement of who he is, and Bill's own posturing and manipulation of people leads to Bill literally forming cults (ie ciphertology) or having apprentices that worship/find him (to varying degree) inspiring; all reinforcing his feelings of exceptionalism.

Of course, Ford numbers among these people; he praises Bill and worships him, as he's played like a fiddle by Bill, because his self-worth and belief in exceptionalism is fucked up in a way that perfectly resonates with Bill’s. Because it's the exact same types of issues around self-worth, around being an outcast, being weird and wrong physically, and yet at the same time gifted. And Ford clearly is incredibly lonely and yearning for acceptance, but so is Bill; since the beginning he's been trying to find someone who would accept him, even if he's given up on it. And for his song and dance to entice Ford in, he pretends he's not crushed dimensions for fun, that he's not a 'monster'; a version of him he buried after he had tried to show his parents the stars, one that he occasionally resurrects and puppets around for manipulation (all lies are better when they have a grain of truth). And this version of him is worshipped, but above all is accepted, is loved by Ford. The softer parts of Bill, even if they are still weird as fuck, the parts that were never far beneath the surface for all his deluding, become loved by Ford. Much as Ford becomes hooked on Bill’s praise, Bill also becomes hooked on Ford's genuine love and care. It becomes personal, unlike any previous ‘inspirations’ and Bill over time gets to the point that he feels accepted, safe enough with Ford to share about his dimension much more close to the truth then he did with any of his henchmaniacs. He becomes vulnerable with Ford, in response to Ford’s own vulnerability with him. He’s finding acceptance for the first time in his life around the softer parts of himself, not just the feared acknowledgement that comes from his dimensions conquering; much like Ford is finally finding companionship and acceptance with Bill, not just only intellectual validation. Bill's also for once, not just self-serving; he cares, and goes out of his way to take time with Ford, even celebrating Ford's birthday (in the unique way he does things), both with the rats and the karaoke.

Image id: One of the lost Journal 3 pages in TBOB. Ford recounts Bill talking about the destruction of his dimension, and calls himself by implication a monster.

They're both fulfilling each other's emotional needs, needs which both of them have struggled with most, if not all of their lives (although their relationship is certainly not healthy, considering it's codependent as fuck, riddled with exceptionalism and oodles of power imbalance issues). And suddenly, against Bill's plans, Ford's no longer just a disposable pawn, but someone Bill wants as part of his team, someone by his side, closer than his henchmaniacs are. He's unwittingly fallen for Ford, and so when everything goes sideways in his plan, and Ford swears it off, suddenly cutting off their relationship and that acceptance Bill had finally felt, he spirals into grief and anger from the rejection. As a result, he becomes extremely abusive to Ford in desperate attempts to continue their relationship, and ultimately he becomes obsessive over Ford joining him again as Ford continues to refuse, as evidenced by both Weirdmageddon and the Book of Bill.

Stanley Pines, and the Refuting of Exceptionalism

Exceptionalism, being a negative driving factor behind many core character dynamics, is ultimately refuted by the show. This occurs multiple times over the show, such as with Mabel in the Pioneer Day episode, especially compared to Pacifica, but mostly through Stan's characterization. Stan is someone who has been since the beginning characterized (if lovingly so) as someone who is a failure by societal standards; he’s an older man running a run-down tacky tourist shop to swindle gullible tourists out of their money, has multiple divorces, has an ongoing feud with a literal 12 year old, clearly has had multiple mishaps with the law (some ongoing), is generally pretty self-serving and is extremely lonely and really had no close relationships until Mabel and Dipper showed up. He's not exceptional; he's not even what we would consider 'decent' enough to have a 'typical, hard working job’. In short, he’s a failure, a stark difference to the idea of 'exceptionalism' that characterizes Ford. If he's gifted in any area, it would be charisma (debatedly), not anything else.

But it's still Stan who rebuilds the portal from literally only one journal (not all three!) and gets it to work. It even seems like he only needs some codes from the other two journals when he does get them, suggesting that he was able to extrapolate from what was left and the first journal’s blueprints to fix it entirely, something that is extremely difficult and technically complicated (Ford, Bill and Fiddleford all worked on it together!). Stan's able to do it, even if it's been shown he's not 'naturally' gifted in that area. And it's something he does as a result of his deep care for Ford; because even after their fights, he cares about Ford and wants to right his wrongs, believes he should, because of his whole life of being defined as a failure and even worse than that, screwing up his ‘exceptional’ brother’s life. And he’ll do it even if that means learning how to build an interdimensional portal, even if it takes up thirty years of his life doing so, and he doesn't waver. Much of this is connected to his own complexes around being deemed a failure compared to Ford, having failed to succeed in his life, and how he feels that he needs to atone for screwing up Ford’s life, now for the second time; but beneath it all, he also cares. Much like Ford, he's extremely lonely, but he's not blinded by Ford's arrogance, and as a result he wants to make sure Ford's safe, because that's what he used to do, they’re twins, they grew up together, they once they had fully accepted and cared for each other, and dammit that still means something, and Stan hasn't found that depth of emotional connection since. So if possible, he wants to rekindle that closeness they had, but first, he needs to bring Ford back.

And in the end, it's not Ford's own special gun he built using his intelligence that 'kills' Bill. It's Stan, someone who Ford had long ago broke it off with in search of validation of his exceptionalism, someone who both Ford and Bill labelled as 'not-exceptional', who defeats Bill. It's exceptionalism's devaluation of people who are 'not-exceptional' that causes Bill to underestimate the Pines beyond Ford, and it's only when Ford put aside his exceptionalism and his refusal to accept and trust 'non-exceptional' people, that is, trust Stan once more, that causes Bill to end up defeated by Stan.

In the end, it's not about who's 'smarter'; it's a reminder that everyone has different skills and are better at different things, but that doesn't diminish one's worth or value, and that just because someone isn't naturally 'gifted' in an area doesn't mean they can't learn or use different ways to get around obstacles. Ultimately, it comes down to that no one is worth more or less than other people; exceptionalism is a lie. It’s a lie and an excuse, and it's certainly not a healthy way to assuage one's poor self-worth. What does matter is creating positive healthy connections with other people, and caring about them. This creates a community where you can be yourself and be emotionally fulfilled through these connections; and when opposition does arise, you become able to fight it together, and fight so much stronger than if you are alone.

And by the end of the show, you see that. Ford begins to let go of the ideal of exceptionalism and its black-and-white categorization; finally recognizes his own faults around prioritizing validation of his intelligence and exceptionalism over his relationships, and finally, after all the years, chooses to create and rekindle positive relationships with people, trust people, and make amends. And in the end, he goes sailing with Stan, prioritizing their relationship, finally fulfilling their childhood promise.

Image id: One of the pages written by Ford into TBOB. Ford refutes Bill's idea of happiness, and says he has finally found his own happiness, and it looks like the photo taped in, of Stan, Ford, Dipper, Mabel, Soos and Wendy, all smiling together.

TLDR: Exceptionalism, an ideology of categorizing people into being special and worth more vs plebian and worth less, is a trauma response and subconscious ideology that characterizes Ford and Bill’s lives, deeply impacting all their relationships as it is used to coerce people into doing what they want, makes Ford easily manipulated, and breaks relationships through their arrogance. It is ultimately denounced through the way Dipper chooses to reject Ford’s offer and his rhetoric of being exceptional, and through the way it's not Ford’s intelligence, but rather Stan, who has been labeled as 'not-exceptional' and a failure at life, that defeats Bill through trickery. It's a reminder that everyone has worth, and no one is worth more than other people, even if one may be gifted in certain areas; the ideology of exceptionalism is fragile and a lie. In the end, creating a caring, loving community around oneself is where strength truly lies, as is seen with the deep care and love the characters have for each other, and the repairing of Ford and Stans relationship.

Thanks to the lovely @eshtaresht who deigned to beta read this monster of a post for me

If you enjoyed this meta, (first of all if you read all this you're a champ!) I've also done another gf meta post! (It's shorter I swear)

#gravity falls #ford pines #stanford pines #bill cipher #stanley pines #stan pines #hugin rambles #hugin rambles gf #journal 3 #the book of bill #thisisnotawebsitedotcom #billford #fordsquared #gravity falls analysis #gravity falls meta #book of bill #tbob #christ its so long whyyyy #also oh nooo i wanna do another thing but SPECIFICALLY on trust. gravity falls is ultimately about strength in community and hnnnghhhhh #that makes me wanna cry #also i had so many thoughts. also on the denial part of exceptionalism??? oh baby Bill fucking LISTS it in his book #like sir. please #anyways i love media analysis and im totally normal about all these characters #also like Fiddleford is. like. yikes man.#anyways uhm. does dropping a 6k essay post make me sexy? please say yes (i HIGHLY doubt it #sheesh who's got time to read all this... psssspsspspp theres PHOTOS that TOTALLY dont have more reading in rhem nawwww #i totally dont know what ur talking about mhmmm #if youre like is this about gifted kids- yes. yeah. i just didnt name it. its also about wider things but. yeah #also. unofficial title? Gravity Falls and Gifted Kid Issues an analysis #oh boy sure hope my post about gifted kid issues is a hit on the gifted kid issues site

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ohnoitstbskyen · 2 months ago

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Okay, here’s an interesting one.

Before seeing your content, I’d basically only ever heard the term “power fantasy” used as a derogatory term to describe over-the-top protagonists who are strong and cool, but also boringly devoid of personality so the audience can project onto them. But then some of your League videos talked about skins letting characters like Gragas “inhabit more interesting power fantasies.”

So… when are power fantasies a good thing? The best I’ve got is that it only works in interactive media like video games so that the audience can more directly engage with the fantasy (essentially: Dante from DMC works, Kirito from SAO does not)

I mean, power fantasies are just endemic to storytelling as a whole. There isn't really a hard "this is when they're good, this is when they're bad," they are core to several genres of media and can't be extracted from them. Most video games are power fantasies, just by nature of their mechanics.

Power fantasy isn't a genre (usually), it is just a tool, same as any other trope or convention. It is a means to engage the audience with a story.

An RPG where you level up and become stronger to defeat more difficult enemies? That's a power fantasy. Undertale where you get the best ending by finding some way to spare absolutely every monster and end every fight mercifully? Power fantasy. The Tomb Raider reboot games that take an almost sadistic glee in putting Lara Croft through absolute hell both physically and emotionally? Those are power fantasies about overcoming and surviving those impossible challenges.

They're not just power fantasies, they have lots of other stuff going on, but power fantasy is an inherent part of them. Romance stories also often include power fantasies, specifically about the power of love. "He's broody, dark and broken, but my love can fix him" is a power fantasy, for example, as is "an unjust society keeps us apart, but we will defy everything to be together!"

Even being The Final Girl who beats the horror monster and walks away at the end of the movie can be a power fantasy, if a rather grim one.

If there is a general case where power fantasies become "bad," I think it is when the power fantasy is all there is, and it subsumes all other parts of the story. Shonen manga often runs into this as they get longer, and the power system and escalating battles against ever more powerful foes become the overriding driving force of the story, to the exclusion of everything else. Shaman King comes to mind for me as a particularly egregious example, or Bleach.

Isekai is also riven with this. You can't walk two steps these days without tripping on a "TRANSPORTED TO ANOTHER WORLD WITH MY SUPER OP CHEAT SKILL" premise, where the entire purpose of the story is simply to act out unchallenged wish fulfilment with no friction or tension or character development. Those stories get boring very very fast... unless of course the power fantasy being played out is your specific power fantasy. Yes, OP protagonists winning everything with no challenge is boring, but this OP protagonist is building a sapphic cottagecore witch polycule with an ever-expanding harem of emotionally damaged lesbians, so... y'know. Maybe I'll give it a pass.

It's generally less interesting and useful to observe THAT something is a power fantasy, than it is to observe WHAT KIND of power is being fantasized about. Zombie apocalypse stories are often power fantasies, for example, but there's a pretty noticeable difference between stories where the power fantasy is banding together and building a life with a found family in horrible circumstances, stealing joy from the end of the world in spite of everything... and stories where the zombie apocalypse is an excuse to enact paranoid right-wing prepper fantasies where the hero protects their property (home, land and women) against the verminous hordes of the monstrous Other, and is reified and uplifted by the employment of brutal violence.

#tb answers #voydcat

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writesvani · 2 months ago

Text

coming down | teaser

collegestudent! gojo x collegestudent! reader

SUMMARY: You and Gojo Satoru were once everything to each other, but now, the space between you is filled with nothing but silence and resentment. College is just a reminder of how far you’ve drifted apart, and every encounter only adds fuel to the fire.

You avoid him like the plague, but it doesn’t matter. You can still feel him in the shadows, always there, always watching, as if the past was never really gone. So what do you do? You (try to) keep your distance, pretending it’s easy to forget the history that’s weighed you down for so long.

But deep down, neither of you can let go. And as the tension between you grows, you’re forced to confront the truth: some things are never truly buried, no matter how hard you try.

best friends-to-friends with benefits-to-enemies-to- enemies with benefits-to?

TWs (for this chapter): underage use of marijuana and cigars, underage drinking, use of illegal substances, anorexia and obsessive dieting, calorie deficit, mentions of self-destructive behavior, angst, emotional manipulation and trauma, toxic friendship dynamics, self-esteem issues and body image, unresolved romantic tension, past betrayal and unrequited love, sexual harassment (implied in some interactions), foul language and explicit content, derogatory language, including use of "puss" and other insults, toxic romantic relationships and behavior, references to manipulation and control in relationships, most characters are morally gray, flawed, and engage in problematic behavior, complex, imperfect characters who make questionable decisions, characters often act in ways that challenge traditional moral boundaries and ethics.

THESE CHARACTERS ARE NOT MEANT TO BE PERFECT AND IDOLIZED.

comment here for Coming Down taglist;

SERIES M.LIST

— next chapter

wc: 2,4k // date: 4th of March 2025

TEASER — Wicked Games; proceed with caution...

AN: OKAY OKAY OKAY WOW HERE SHE IS. i don’t know what the hell I’m writing - i mean i do but i don’t if that makes sense - this, this fanfic is literally gonna be my baby. it’s inspired by a lot of people i know, it’s partly inspired by my life as well - not gonna tell you which bits of it tho haha. but i’m so excited. honestly this isn’t even chapter one - i’m thinking more of it as a teaser for what’s about to come and when i tell you a lot is coming you better believe it. but this is going to be a part of me - something raw and something real and i know this won’t be an easy read - as you can see by the triggers but i truly, really hope you guys will like it as much as I enjoy writing it. because i’m obsessed. i just got sucked in by y/n and gojo’s dynamic of hatred and toxicity, they’re on my mind 24/7.

i love them.

i hate them.

i wanna be them and i’d hate it if i ended up becoming them at the same time.

love, vani 🩷

"No, I’m not going."

"Yes, you totally are."

"No, I’m not, Yumi. I’m dead serious."

"Y/n, for the love of Christ, I love you, but if you don’t stop bitching about it right now, there will be consequences. Now, get your ass up and get ready," Yumi huffed, arms crossed.

You narrowed your eyes before rolling them—more dramatically than you intended. Not your most mature moment, but being forced to go to that party, in that house, didn’t exactly put you in a good mood.

"Look, Yu, I don’t care about that stupid party your—what’s his name again?—boyfriend is throwing for us. Truthfully, I’d rather be buried alive in that creepy graveyard we smoke pot in. Alone. No pot. You get my point."

"His name is Nanami," she deadpanned. "And he’s throwing us a party for our birthday, which we share. It’s not like I have the option to skip it, you know. Besides, we always celebrate our birthday together."

Yumi’s voice softened as she tilted her head, giving you that look—the one she knew you couldn’t resist. "Please, please, please. Let’s just go, smoke some weed, listen to those weird-ass tunes you play when you get too baked, wait for midnight, blow out the candles, and leave. Bonus points if Nanami fucks me tonight."

She smirked before adding, "Plus, Gojo’s gonna be there, and everyone knows about your little crush on him."

You scowled. As if that could make this stupid party any better.

But again… she wasn’t wrong.

Somehow, in the middle of a crowded classroom filled with acne-scarred faces and nervous energy, you and Yumi ended up sitting together. two total strangers. two tangled-up disasters shoved into plastic chairs, thrown together by sheer chance or some kind of cosmic joke.

She was tall and slim, chain-smoking weird American cigars in the school’s piss-scented bathroom stalls during five-minute breaks.

You liked her immediately.

She liked cigs.

You liked pot.

She liked Arctic Monkeys or any other type of music that ended up overplayed by overdramatic tumblr girls at midnight.

You listened to Trilogy like it was gospel.

She didn’t give a shit about school. Skipped class constantly to drink cheap coffee at some run-down café that reeked of nargila and regret.

You somehow pulled good grades—yet skipped with her anyway, so she wouldn’t feel lonely.

And then, the kicker.

You shared the same birthday.

Same day. Same year. Two hours apart. What were the odds? Some kind of cruel cosmic irony, maybe. A glitch in the universe where it spat out two unhinged messes at the same time, doomed to find each other.

You weren’t sure.

All you knew was that Yumi was fucked up.

She didn’t eat. Didn’t sleep. Just smoked.

Cigs and all.

Pot and all.

You, on the other hand, slept too much. Ate just enough—tracking every bite to make sure it fit inside your carefully calculated calorie deficit, of course.

And yeah, you were fucked up too.

But at least you weren’t alone.

You were fucked up together, and somehow, that made perfect sense.

And now, after years of being two walking disasters—two mistakes of nature (and probably your parents' biggest regrets)—you are finally in college.

What you didn’t expect was Yumi getting a boyfriend. And sticking to him. Yumi didn’t do relationships. they were too much, she once told you.

Too heavy.

You understood. Why let anyone waste their time trying to fix something that wasn’t fixable? Why let anyone peel back the layers when there was nothing to find? no deep-seated trauma, no unspeakable tragedy, no emotional constipation. just plain, old you—coasting through life on gold marlboro touch and iceberg salad.

You assumed Yumi felt the same. you used to get each other.

But now? Yumi had a boyfriend. And not just any boyfriend—some weirdly handsome senior that got every girl on campus tripping over themselves. A guy who, for some unknown reason, had decided to settle down with the second-year that half the school had definitely jacked off to.

And you?

You were still there, of course.

“You know what? Fine,” you finally huffed, shoving your hands in your pockets. “We’re going. But—” you held up a finger, “The shit he’s getting better be good or i’m out. And—” another finger, “Btw, how is The Weeknd ‘weird girl’ music? The best music to get high is literally from an artist who made it while high. like, really?”

Yumi just raised an eyebrow, already knowing she’d won.

“And—” your third and final finger shot up—“One condition. No Gojo. Np looking at him, no talking about him, and god forbid, talking to him, okay?”

Yumi grinned like the little devil she was. She knew she had you.

And she loved it.

You’re going. and somehow, somehow, you already know Yumi’s going to break the Gojo rule. And you already hate yourself for saying yes.

Gojo, Gojo, Gojo. That foxy, smirking little minx you’ve somehow tucked away in a small, stupid pocket of your heart. Nanami's best friend.

Stupid hot and wicked smart.

One look from Gojo Satoru and half the campus is already on their knees, mouths open, waiting for the tip to slide in. one touch, and you’re pretty sure girls would be cumming fully clothed.

Truthfully? You get it.

Gojo has that whole walking sexual fantasy turned nonchalant icy prince thing going for him. you would’ve hitched your skirt up and let him fuck you senseless too—if he asked.

Would’ve.

But Gojo Satoru did something no other man had ever dared to do.

He bruised your ego.

You’d never admit it, of course. Not out loud. Not even to yourself. But the way his offhanded you’re not my type had clutched at your chest, had sunk deep into the tenderest, most pathetic part of you—yeah. It stung.

Who the hell was he to say you weren’t his type?

Yes, fine, he was hot. really, really hot.

But so were you.

You’ve got that thing going for you—the great student, everyone loves me act, while secretly (well, not so secretly, except to your oblivious teachers) getting high and fucking emotionally unavailable men on the weekends.

Your favorite trope, honestly.

You’ve got those pretty—as guys love to say—puppy eyes and that lethal eyelashes combo that makes people practically eat from the palm of your hand.

So why the hell would he say you weren’t his type?

For fuck’s sake, Gojo Satoru fucks anything with two legs and a vagina.

And the cherry on top? He didn't even say it to your face. No, he just let those humiliating little words slip at some party you weren’t even at.

Thank god for that. You’re pretty sure you would’ve died right then and there if you had to hear those ridiculous words fall from his pretty pink lips in real time.

But of course, Yumi—your second-in-command, your ever-dutiful bringer of bad news—had called you immediately.

Campus sex god gojo satoru, not finding you attractive enough?

The scandal.

To make things even worse, you’re pretty sure everyone knows you’d totally give it to Gojo Satoru.

You may have drunkenly admitted it—once, before the whole “not his type” fiasco—to some random girl in a club bathroom who smelled way too much like puke and way too little like vanilla.

And of course, of fucking course, the gossip spread through campus like wildfire before you could even try to kill it.

So yeah. going to your own birthday party?

Humiliating.

Annoying.

Absolutely a horrible idea.

But still… there’s this slow burn inside of you, this creeping anticipation.

The kind that tells you tonight might just be interesting.

And a little drama never hurt anyone, right?

…Right?

—

Nanami's house is not what you expected.

You don’t even know what you expected, but definitely not this.

Yumi did mention he doesn’t live on campus—he’s one of those guys, apparently. Still lives with his parents or something.

Lame. Booo. Throwing tomatoes.

Because seriously—what twenty-something man still lives with his parents?

But you definitely didn’t expect nanami’s house to be this posh.

Or this proper.

Or this… fucking expensive.

Because, what the actual fuck—nanami is rich.

Like, could-buy-you-off-the-dark-web rich.

Probably in exchange for the mahogany table you’re currently pouring tequila shots on.

Or maybe just for that obnoxiously huge, icy couch stretching across the living room.

or, hell, even for his kitchen alone.

What. The. Fuck.

But then—on that same absurdly expensive couch—something else catches your eye.

Legs sprawled out in the kind of lazy man-spread that screams confidence, scrolling through his phone like he owns the place, is a man.

Dark.

Tall.

And very, very hot.

Something dark and thrilling rushes through you at the thought of dragging him into Nanami’s parents’ bedroom and riding him until he can’t take it anymore.

But before you can act on it—

“Geto Suguru.”

Yumi’s voice is in your ear, a warning.

“He has a girlfriend, so don’t even try.”

Her fingers tug at your elbow. You retaliate immediately, poking her ribs in response.

He looks up.

His shadowy eyes roam over you—slow, deliberate.

A half-smile, half-smirk tugs at his lips.

Ha.

There he is.

Good boy.

He wants it.

He wants you.

"Well, I don’t see her here, do I?"

Your voice is a whisper, teasing, as you throw a smirk at Yumi before stepping forward—gracefully, leg before leg, closing the space between you and him.

He’s still sitting.

You don’t even have to look at his face to know he’s already watching you.

Slowly, your eyes travel downward.

The soft material of his white polo stretches taut over the sculpted lines of his stomach, the fabric clinging in all the right places. Your gaze lingers, just a second too long, before moving up—finally settling on his lips.

For a moment, there’s silence.

Then, just as the tension starts to settle, he shifts—fumbling with the left pocket of his jeans.

You blink.

…Okay.

Not so hot anymore.

What the hell is he doing?

But then—

but then—

he pulls something out.

A white tissue—crumpled, worn.

You almost scoff, about to ask if this is some weird, half-assed magic trick—until you see it.

Tiny specks of green peek through the folds.

Your breath catches.

Weed.

A lot of weed.

Holy fucking shit.

You swear your mouth waters.

It’s tucked inside that questionably old tissue—and you pray, dear God, that he didn’t blow his nose in it.

Then, in that slow, deep voice—smooth like velvet, laced with a promise—he finally speaks.

"Five grams. Homemade."

He speaks for the first time, and in that moment, you're absolutely sure you're about to get high off his pot—and then, well, he's going to be the one getting high off you.

"Heard you smoke. Thought you’d want to."

Geto’s voice is low, his words soft, but the way his arm brushes your hip bone—effortlessly, casually—sends a spark through your veins.

Some might say it’s a coincidence.

But you know better.

Nothing, nothing, is ever a coincidence when it comes to men like him.

And now, now, you want it even more.

Before you can say anything, someone else interrupts.

“Yo, Suguru, I’ve been watching you all night, man. Why the fuck you sitting in the living room like some NPC loser?”

You scoff, catching the teasing tone of the voice.

"Satoru, you’re stepping on my last nerve again. Let me chill for a bit. I wanna mentally prepare before rolling with all you incompetent losers," Geto responds, his voice still calm, but there's a hidden edge to it that makes you think he doesn't mind the banter.

"There, there, boy. I just missed my best friend so much I had to see why you left the billiard room, you know? Just love spending time with you, bestie."

"You know, licking my ass won’t make me give you some of this before I try it myself. Plus, I’ve got company, as you can see." Geto’s voice drips with annoyance, cutting through the otherwise tense air in Nanami’s living room.

You don’t need to turn around to know exactly who’s standing behind you. His presence is undeniable, his scent suffocating in the best way, and that energy—God, that energy—that pulses in any room he steps into.

And then, of course, there’s the voice. That annoyingly attractive, rough drawl that always gets under your skin.

“I can see that, but I still don’t approve of you ditching your homies for some cheap pussy,” Gojo says, the mockery clear in his voice.

And that’s when you finally, finally, decide to acknowledge the elephant in the room.

What the fuck?

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

Sure, being told you weren’t his type stung—but this? Calling you cheap? Who the hell does this guy think he is? What gives him the audacity to insult you to your face—well, more like to your back, but still, it stings all the same.

A chuckle rumbles through the room. You don’t stop yourself in time. You hear your own voice, but it doesn’t feel like yours anymore.

How dare he. After everything—after all the hurt he’s caused you.

Again. And again.

You tell yourself it doesn’t bother you, yet the words slip out before you even realize what’s happening.

As if you could have stopped them. As if you could have ever stopped anything with him.

After all, Gojo Satoru always had a knack for pushing your buttons exactly the way he wanted.

“Cheap, but could make your dick hard by one high school kiss in your mom’s closet. Could make you whimper out my name in your favorite teacher’s classroom. Could make you cum down your uniform just by biting your lip. We’re a little past being cheap, don’t you think Sato?”

Because before all of this—before the "not his type" catastrophe, and your drunken confessions—there was you.

And there was Gojo.

Best friends since birth. A bond that was never supposed to break. But then came senior year—the year everything changed.

You made a mistake. The terrible, stupid, earth-shattering mistake of letting things blur into something more. You slept together. Multiple times. You told yourself it was just a phase. Just a mistake. But deep down, you both knew it was more than that.

But no. There was an even worse mistake than all of this.

Falling in love.

And then, the biggest tragedy of all: letting each other down.

You weren’t supposed to end up here. But somehow, here you are. Caught in the wreckage of a love that never really had a chance.

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thehorrorgirlstyles · 4 months ago

Text

Brotherly Love

Eddie Munson x Stepsister!reader

Summary: You move in with your mom's new husband, only to find out that he has an annoyingly hot son.

Warnings: Swearing, derogatory words, dark themes, hate kinda sex, 18+ content, Stepbrother!Eddie, sexual themes, a little Steve Harrington x reader, cheating, rich people stuff, kinda enemies to lovers

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

"Ugh this is so stupid, why do we have to move... he should be the one to leave his house" You groan out.

"I already told you sweetie, Dean has work in his part of town.. he can't leave his job to move over here" Your mom replies as she finishes boxing up the last of the kitchen utensils.

Your mom met some guy on one of her work trips and now they're getting married. You think she's totally lost it having only known this guy for three months. Ever since your dad left with some skank a year ago, your mother has been absolutely devstated and wanting a new man. It's not because she missed your dad, but because she's afraid it will look bad to all her rich and snobby friends.

Now she's agreed to marry some guy she barely knowns to gain back the respect of her colleagues. Which is a HUGE mistake. She's totally ruining your life, making you move an hour away to live with some complete stranger who she thinks she loves! You built a life for yourself here, I mean an hour away isn't that far..you could always drive back, but still your boyfriend lives here!

"So its okay that Dean has work, but what about me?... I mean all my friends are here and what about your job too?" You saying sealing the box with tape.

"Honey its only an hour away I'm sure your friends can spend a few weekends with us.. Dean has a very huge house... Oh and I'm quitting my job" She says picking up the box and walking away.

"What the Fuck?.. What do you mean you're quitting, I mean isn't this to show that you have another husband and you're better than everyone else?.. You did this for your job.. Did you not?!" You follow after her.

"Honey, watch your language.. Steve won't want to marry someone who has a filthy mouth" She looks at you and sets the box by the front door.

"Dean has more than enough money to take care of us I won't need that job with those snobby little whores anymore" She smiles at you and walks upstairs to grab the last of the boxes.

______________________________________________

After saying your goodbyes to your friends and your boyfriend, against your will, your mom insisted that a taxi drive you to your new house, saying that she didn't want to ruin her nails..whatever that means.

"Why can't you be alone mom, do you seriously need another man ruining your life..this is like what the fourth one?" You say looking out the window of the car.

"Sweetie I'll have you know that I actually love Dean, he is everything that we need to become the perfect family.. now hush were almost there" She pats your leg, motioning for you to sit tight and be quiet. Perfect family my ass.

__________________________________________

When you arrive at your new house, it's just what you'd expect from your mom. A gated mansion with three floors. The bushes are neatly trimmed and the grass is mowed. There are fountains out front and rose vines litter the walls.

"It's a little old fashion don't you think?" You look at your mom who is bursting with excitement. You roll your eyes at her.

The door opens up and Dean comes out to greet you both. "Darling you look beatuilful...oh and Y/n lovely to see you again" He gives your mother a kiss on the check and smiles at you. You nod your head and walk into the house.

"Your welcome to pick any room on the second floor, your mother and I will be on the third..Oh and just don't go into the room by the first bathroom, that's my son's" He motions you to follow him up the stairs.

This guy has a son?! Your mom didn't tell you about this. Fucking Great!

"Some of your things have been shipped over already, but the other ones are still in processing, if you need anything there's a small shop just about a ten minute drive from here.. my driver, Ted, can take you" He says while showing you and your mom the second floor.

"Thanks." You reply, not looking at him.

"Okay, well then dear... shall we?" He takes your mother's hand and leaves you on the second floor to pick out a room.

_______________________________________

A couple hours later, you're left alone to fix up your new room. It's big, VERY big. There's a king size bed in the middle and a full size walk in closet, with a bathroom that has a tub, a FUCKING HOT TUB. While you could get use to this life-style, you miss your actual home.

It's around ten at night when you decide to call your boyfriend. "Steve, I miss you this place sucks, there's like literal fucking maids and cooks and shit, I feel like I'm living in some old timey palace and not the good kind, the one where there's a dungeon with blood splattered on the walls."

He laughs at your response, "Babe, I promise I'll see you soon and when I do, we can try out that new toy I got you."

"Oh yea.. and what exactly would you do to me with that toy" You say, moving your hands toward your panties.

"Well first, I'd get you nice and wet.. using my tongue. Then I'd stick a finger or two inside, if you could handle it." You hear him unbuckle his jeans.

"Which you can because you're my dirty girl, aren't you Y/n?" He asks.

"Yes, I'm your dirty girl" You moan out toying with your clit, as you envision him sucking on it.

"That's right baby, just for me..moan my name pretty girl" You hear him jerking himself off over the phone.

"ahh~ Steve!" You yell out, working your clit faster.

"Then, after your wet enough, I'd stick the little thing inside your hole, putting it on the highest setting..You'll be begging for me to let you cum, but I'll make you wait until I'm finshed fucking your mouth" You hear his breathing increase as he goes on.

"Please, please Steve I want it arghhh~" You finally cum, clenching down on your fingers. You hear Steve moan out your name with a finally pump as he cums.

"That's my girl"

You hung up the phone after saying goodnight and go to wash off your hands, when you see something from behind your cracked door. You stop your movements, only moving your head to look through the crack from your spot by the bed. As you try to move toward the door, the dark figure runs off. What the fuck? You open the door and look out the hall, seeing the door by the bathroom shut close. It's Dean's son.

____________________________________

The next morning you get ready and head downstairs for breakfast, when you collide with a hard figure. You look up and see a long-dark haired tattooed man with piercings. The complete opposite from Steve.

"Watch where you're going" He scoffs going to walk in the opposite direction. Who the hell does he think he is?!

"I know you were watching me" You speak up, turning toward him.

He stops in his tracks, his back facing you. "I don't know what you're talking about" He turns around and faces you, his arms crossing.

"Don't play dumb with me, you were watching me last night, when I was touching myself.." You lower your voice.

"Now I don't know how much you saw, but I have a boyfriend so don't get any ideas" You cross your arms back.

"Trust me, you're not my type princess" He laughs at you walking away.

"Excuse me I'm EVERYONES type and YOU were the one watching me!...YEAH YOU, I bet you liked it, perving on me like a freak!" You yell after him. What an asshole.

___________________________________________

For the next few days he purposely annoys the shit out of you. He used one of your nice shirts to wipe the sweat off his back after he worked out. He threw his dirty underwear in your basket of CLEAN clothes. And he bought home some chick the other day and she was so fucking loud you couldn't sleep for the rest of the night. You swear he's annoying you every chance he gets, like he's getting off on it and it's completely working, which is annoying you even more.

"Mom I cannot live here anymore, Dean's son is a child, a literal fucking child, I hate him!" You yell out.

"Shhh, lower your voice." Your mom says grabbing your arm to pull you outside, just when Dean walks in.

"I heard what you said and I'm sorry that Eddie hasn't been the most welcoming..I will talk to him" He apologies and walks away.

Your mom shakes her head, "Please Y/n do not ruin this for me..for us" She lets you go and follows after Dean.

So that little shits name is Eddie, you think to yourself.

___________________________________________________

A few weeks go by and both you and Eddie have been messing with each other. You hate him and he hates you, which isn't ideal for your mother's "Perfect family", but you cannot stand the guy, even if you tried.

Steve, however, is finally able to come over this weekend and you need to make sure that Eddie won't do or say anything to ruin it.

You knock on his door, but he doesn't answer...so you walk in anyways. You're going to tell this idiot to stay away whether he chooses to listen or not.

When you walk in, you find Eddie with his back turn to the door. He must've just gotten out the shower because he is completely naked, except for the towel around his waist. He shakes his hair out and you continue to stare in silence. His back is dripping water and you wonder if he has ever looked this good.

He finally turns around and spots you. He notices the way you're staring and the bastard smirks at you.

"Enjoying the show princess?" he chuckles.

"Wha-What No, I-I was just.." Fuck, why did you come here again?

He walks closer to you and you take a step back. Your back hits the door as he closes in on you.

"What were you saying?" he grabs your face, your lips inches apart.

"I hate you!" You blurt out.

He smiles at you, "I hate you too." he closes the gap and forcefully kisses you. You gasp, what the fuck, why is this dickhead kissing you?! Still, you lean into the kiss anyways, kissing back harder.

He picks you up without breaking the kiss, his towel dropping at the movement. You feel his cock growing as it touches your ass over your jeans and you can tell that he is big, bigger than you've had. He sits you down on his bed, starting to unbutton your jeans. When he finally pulls your jeans off, he starts to feel up your body, with his hands, reaching down to where you need him the most.

You stop his movements and break the kiss, "Wait, I'm... this is wrong" You say trying to catch your breath.

"If this is so wrong, then why are you so wet for me?" He asks, touching you over your panties as he starts to move his hands in a circular motion.

You moan his name. God, was he always this hot?

"B-But you're my stepbrother and we both are taken" You try to reason, but it comes out as a breathy moan.

He smirks at you, "You jealous of what you heard the other night?.. had to get you back for all your late night calls" He confesses.

"Wha- But you have been watching me, you asshole" You slap him and he laughs in response.

"Your whines are too pretty for me to just ignore" He says, starting to kiss around your neck. "Beside with how loud you were being I'm pretty sure you wanted me to watch".

"Eddie I-"

"Shhh, let me take my time playing with your pretty cunt"

You lay back on his bed, spreading your legs open for him. This is so wrong on so many levels, but it feels too good to stop. You think you'll just get off from him just this one time, you won't even let him fuck you... Who are you kidding, you want him to fuck you.

"This doesn't change anything, I still hate you." you speak in labored breaths as he laps your pussy with his tongue.

He pulls your thighs closer to him in response, making you gasp as he speeds up his motions.

"Fuckkk Eddie, your gonna make me cum~" You moan out clenching your thighs together. He stops you, pushing his hands against your legs.

"Keep them open!" He growls out. You smirk and defy him on purpose, squishing his head between your thighs.

"Or what?" you ask.

He pulls away from you quickly and in one quick motion he flips you over, making you gasp in shock. He pushes your face down into the sheets, keeping your ass in the air. You hear him move behind you, his hand on your neck, keeping you from getting away.

"Or I'll stick it in your tight little ass and no matter how much you scream for me to stop, I won't until I cum inside you." You feel him rub his dick along your hole., you clench in response. Fuck why was this making you so turn on. Your never done anal before, telling Steve that you rather not experience that pain, but fuck it you want to experience it with Eddie.

"You like the way I speak to you baby.. like your a slut, my toy to play with?" He slaps your ass, making you jolt forward.

"Yes Eddieee please~" You whine out.

"Please what?"

"Fucking fuck me already Eddie" You whine, pushing your ass back against him.

He grabs your hips and aligns his cock with your soaking hole.. when a knock sounds on the door.

You both freeze and you turn around to look at him. He meets your eyes silently telling you to be quiet.

"Yeah!" He yells out, his hand still on your hip.

"Hey Eddie Y/n's boyfriend is here, so be nice to him and to Y/n" His dad speaks from the other side of the door.

"Oh also, Have you seen Y/n by chance, she wasn't in her room?" he continues.

"Nope, haven't seen her" Eddie lies.

"Alright well let me know if you do son, her boyfriend was so excited to see her and looks like she isn't even here". Dean laughs and you hear him finally walk away from Eddie's door.

"Fuck" You move out of Eddie's grasp and pick up your clothes from the floor, starting to put them back on.

"So your boyfriends here?" Eddie asks you.

"Looks like it" You say, finishing putting your pants on.

You turn and look towards Eddie, not knowing what to say. You were literally seconds away from fucking him and now your boyfriend is here. This should have never happened with Eddie, but God did you want it to so badly, you can tell by the wet spot forming in your underwear.

"Well sneak out tonight when he's sleeping and we can continue where we left off princess" He says, putting his clothes on.

"Are you serious?" You ask him in disbelief.

"Yeah, I know you want me, figured I'd make your wishes come true." He looks at you with a dumb smile.

"Fuck you"

"I will tonight" He smirks at you.

You roll your eyes and leave his room, slamming the door shut.

You seriously hate the guy, but oh were you so going to meet him after Steve falls asleep.

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