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starcurtain · 6 months ago

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Female Guidance in Aventurine's Life

One thing I haven't seen discussed in much depth yet, but which I think is especially interesting, is the consistency of female guidance in Aventurine's life: Every single person who we have seen on screen offering Aventurine assistance or making a positive difference in his life is female (with one exception, yes, I'll get there).

Under the read more cause it's longggg:

Before even diving into his family, let's just get the obvious out of the way: Aventurine is, at least supposedly, blessed by a goddess. The very origin of his good fortune--be it actual blessing or curse--comes from the literal "mother goddess" who watches over him. This is one of the only instances in Star Rail where a god character is specifically given a gender, and Gaiathra is not ever ambiguous. She is the classic female fertility goddess with all the trappings of other famous triple goddess figures of the real world. Aventurine's personal belief in the goddess may be shaky, but he nevertheless continues to treasure his people's faith. Thus, at the core, we can say Aventurine is a character who is guarded by the most quintessential mother figure possible.

Now, with the most obvious out of the way:

We know that Aventurine's father died before Aventurine was even born, and therefore he would not have any memories of his father, leaving him to be raised by his mother and sister.

Both women clearly made an enormous and lasting impression on Aventurine; they haunt every single one of his memories of Sigonia and are the key elements of the family Aventurine longs to return to. While he flirts with the concept of death as a way to see his family members again, it was also his mother and sister who instilled in him any sense of self-worth and meaning to his existence, the only things keeping him from giving up on living. His mother believed him to be blessed; his sister insisted to his face that not even the only remaining remnant of their mother had any value in comparison to his life.

It is for his sister that Aventurine first begins expressing a self-sacrificial nature, and from his sister that this self-sacrifice is reinforced when she uses herself as a shield to help him escape massacre at the hands of the Katicans.

It is also from his sister that Aventurine learns many of the deeply meaningful actions he holds onto to the present day, despite having been so far removed from his own culture.

Conversely, every one of Aventurine's early negative experiences on screen appear to have been driven (at least primarily) by men.

Although the Katican tribe of course would have both men and women, the tribal societies on Sigonia appear to be on the fairly traditional side, with Aventurine's mother staying at the camp with her child while his father was the one to go out and hunt for offerings for Gaiathra. This is also supported by Aventurine asking Jade to take him to her "chief" later on. Therefore, it is likely (although of course not guaranteed) that a majority of the Katicans' army was male, and that Aventurine's early experiences with outsiders consisted almost entirely of indiscriminate pillaging and massacre at the hands of what the Avgin viewed as savage, invading warriors. In separate instances, Aventurine was traumatized by these warrior figures three times--first with the loss of his father, then his mother, and then finally his sister.

And even their hope, supposed to come in the form of the "men in black" from the IPC, completely abandoned them, leaving Aventurine once again betrayed by masculine figures that were supposed to be there to protect him. Led by Oswaldo Schneider, another cruel male authority figure, the Marketing Department of the IPC permitted the wholesale slaughter of Aventurine's people--something which we know Aventurine is now aware of.

Then, of course, the next piece of Aventurine's backstory we're given is his male slave master. I don't really need to say anything about this, do I? This man violated Aventurine's human dignity and bodily autonomy, and forced Aventurine's hand in a life or death battle for which Aventurine still punishes himself mentally, even years in the future.

In part to escape the difficulty of his situation and rise to a position where he would have enough resources to--he thought--help his people, Aventurine joins up with the IPC. But when he attempts to make contact with a powerful man in the organization, Diamond, he is instead met by a woman, Jade, who against Aventurine's own expectations determines that she will raise Aventurine up (or use him as a tool, depending on how you currently choose to interpret Jade's motivations), granting him wealth and status beyond his imagination.

(And this line in particular is interesting, because you can take it one of two ways: 1) Aventurine comes from a patriarchal planet that traditionally put men into positions of power [thereby making his own slavery an emasculating act, aligning him further with disenfranchised women]; thus, he is making the assumption that to get anywhere in this organization, he will need to work with a man; or 2) He actually was counting on Jade taking his bet and helping him right from the beginning, because Aventurine perceives women as inherently more likely to protect and aid him than men would be.)

In the end, Jade does exactly as she claims she will, launching Aventurine into a position of power while also closing golden handcuffs around his wrists. She positions herself not only as his supervisor, but as his advocate and ally. She entrusts him with her Cornerstone, a sign of significant faith in his abilities. She even seems to be keenly aware of his bias towards the mother figure, referring to him as "child" in their conversations.

Whether this is genuine or a manipulation tactic can certainly be debated (and I'm not inclined to think at this point that Jade is a genuinely good role model or selflessly supportive person in Aventurine's life), but whatever the case, women are the only people Aventurine even remotely considers to be "in his corner."

We see this even earlier, in Aventurine's call to Topaz. Like with the example of his mother and sister, Aventurine trusts in Topaz's ability implicitly, and considers her above anyone else when it comes to completing the mission in Penacony.

Although of course we don't know if Aventurine has any other friends or allies among the Strategic Investment Department, it seems very likely that Topaz, yet another woman, is the one he is closest with. At the very least, she is the only IPC character (so far) that Aventurine has a complimentary voice line for, one that shows his respect for her talent:

Over and over again, the story aligns Aventurine with female figures in positions of authority, and demonstrates that he is comfortable (although maybe not too comfortable, in the case of Jade) with relying on them and trusting their judgment, just as he did with his mother and sister.

And this pretty much goes off the charts in Penacony, where Aventurine has more involvement with the female cast than virtually any other non-female character (even the Trailblazer!). We set the pattern off right away, with Aventurine immediately being placed into a negotiation situation with Himeko, respecting her role as the Express's leader and working to get himself aligned with the Express by acquiescing to her request for support.

Then there's the fact that Aventurine is the one who finds Robin's body, an event which, although he didn't let it show too much, was almost certainly traumatic for him, given the violent death of his own sister.

Next, twice in Penacony's story, we see Aventurine seek out Sparkle for information. He may not personally like her and her comments may be both racist and dehumanizing, but Aventurine does rely on her--being the only character explicitly seeking her aid, which no one else in Penacony seems to want.

In 2.0...

And in 2.1.

Now, say it with me, guys: Aventurine built an entire portion of his grand plan around the idea that if he looked pathetic enough, a female character would absolutely come and help him. And sure enough, the women come through for him, always! Sparkle gives him the exact last clue he needs to confirm his belief that he could use "Death" to reach the true Penacony, sealing the deal for the rest of his plan.

His plan which also hinged significantly on Black Swan's involvement too, another woman that he views as, if not trustworthy, then at least intelligent and hyper-competent.

Contrast all this, of course, with the treatment Aventurine receives at the hands of Sunday, the lone opposing male character he faces in Penacony.

Sparkle implies that Sunday would humiliate Aventurine in an unmistakably sexual and degrading way, and Sunday himself professes this same desire to see Aventurine humiliated.

Then we're "treated" to the moment in which Sunday uses the Harmony's (or perhaps actually the Order's?) power against Aventurine, in a scene which is supposed to reflect an interrogation but is also, very clearly, another nonconsensual violation of Aventurine's bodily autonomy and dignity by a man. While ostensibly seeking confirmation of the Cornerstone ruse, Sunday instead subjects Aventurine to unnecessary questions about his past on Sigonia, which recall and force Aventurine to re-endure memories of his trauma.

Even if this is what Aventurine prepared himself for and planned to have happen, the pain he experiences is very real, and he suffers both the physical and emotional consequences of Sunday's assault all the way up to his "Death" and possibly even beyond.

(Also, Sunday fans please don't get too up in arms with me for this; I also like Sunday! It's okay for characters to be morally grey!)

I think there's one other interesting example I would bring up here too, and that's Aventurine's conscious decision to weaponize his own masculinity against the Trailblazer. Through the 2.0 and 2.1 Trailblaze missions, Aventurine deliberately acts in an off-putting manner to the Astral Express crew, particularly the Trailblazer, in order to build up to the 2.1 climax where the Trailblazer is supposed to view him as an unrepentant villain and attack him without hesitation.

In order to achieve this uncomfortable, villainous effect, what does Aventurine do? Exactly what other men have done to him.

This is especially apparent if you're playing Stelle because of the ingrained societal taboo of a man entering a woman's personal space without consent, but even as Caelus, it is very clear that Aventurine is leveraging behaviors typically used to show dominance: In a complete 180 to all Aventurine's other body language in the game (normally quite withdrawn, frequently in defensive postures with his arms crossed or hand behind his back, almost always standing several feet away from other people), Aventurine violates the Trailblazer's personal bubble, looming over them (Caelus was sitting in this cutscene, lol), forcing eye contact, and commanding the space while informing them that they will have no choice.

For someone who was hunted, enslaved, had his movements restricted with chains, and due to his own slight stature has very likely been towered over by others who were intentionally asserting their power over him all his life, it is clear that Aventurine associates dominant, typically more masculine-coded physically-imposing behaviors with discomfort and even villainy.

Any girl who has ever had a man loom over her like this will realize very quickly: Aventurine wanted to make himself scary so he made himself act more like a bad man.

(Yes of course I know "not all men." I'm not saying every man behaves in this domineering way or that women cannot be domineering too, obviously, just that Aventurine had a very specific image in mind when constructing a "villainous persona," and the physically controlling tactics most typically used by aggressive men toward women was his immediate go-to.)

But where does that leave Dr. Ratio, the one male character actually on Aventurine's side?

Frankly, I don't want to derail my post about how intensely Hoyo chose to hammer on the message of "Women will protect you" in Aventurine's story with a discussion about a mlm ship, but the take-away here is going to lead in that direction anyway--so yes, Dr. Ratio is the exception.

What is interesting is that he does not come across as an exception at first, and in fact initially appears as another male character being rude and dismissive to Aventurine. Like, there are still people out there calling Ratio an unrepentant racist for this one.

Of course, it's later clarified that this is an act--likely even these insults were scripted specifically to give Sunday's spying ears the "insight" he needed to exploit Aventurine during the interrogation.

But even though it is an act, Aventurine still has noticeable trouble putting his faith in Ratio. He does genuinely doubt him a few times, despite knowing that they are working together to fool the Family.

Even his voice line about Ratio confirms that he doesn't think Ratio particularly cares for him; rather, he thinks Ratio simply tolerates him because he's slightly less unintelligent than those around them.

Ultimately, the entire act with Ratio ends up being a mirror of the real scenarios Aventurine has been experiencing with men his whole life (at least as far as we are shown his life). Men abandon him to fend for himself (unwillingly, like his father, or willingly, like Diamond leaving Aventurine to deal with Penacony alone on the inside). Ratio keeps leaving Aventurine completely alone. Men attempt to humiliate him and violate his boundaries (like Sunday and his slave master). Ratio insults Aventurine's appearance and intelligence repeatedly. Men betray him (like Oswaldo Schneider and his men leaving the Avgin to die). Ratio "betrays" him.

I'm not saying when Aventurine devised the plan for their act, he consciously drew up a list of all the ways men had hurt him in the past and had Ratio re-enact them one by one, but like... that's what happened, whether or not Aventurine intended it.

And okay, the shrinking scene in Dewlight Pavilion was just for fun and probably only slightly fetishy, the devs promise; yes, it was supposed to be a joke! ...But it's also not a mistake that this is yet another instance of a male character in a glaringly metaphorical position of power over Aventurine. Aventurine's tiny in this scene! He's completely vulnerable! He's in a dangerous position and the male character could very much hurt him in this moment.

But Ratio doesn't. (In fact, his line here is supposed to be sarcastic, very ha ha--but also, what is Ratio really saying? "I won't do anything to you without your express consent." What a good guy.)

Virtually everything negative that we see in 2.1 is Ratio doing these things as an act at Aventurine's own request. He doesn't actually disdain Aventurine; his own voiceline about Aventurine reinforces that he sees Aventurine as talented and intelligent.

Whatever you think he was apologizing for in their early scene, he's the only person we're ever shown in-game apologizing to Aventurine at all.

He worked hard to "betray" Aventurine but only as he was instructed to do, and immediately checks in on Aventurine's well-being afterward, even urging him to give up the plan if it becomes too much to handle.

And then, of course, there's the note: "Do stay alive. I wish you the best of luck."

After this point, it cannot be denied that Ratio is unequivocally on Aventurine's side, wants to help him, and is not doing so out of any sense of self-gain but largely because he is a good person who simply cares about Aventurine's fate. By the end of 2.1, it can no longer be doubted that Ratio is the exception to the "gender rule" of Aventurine's life, which--the story shows us again and again--was that guidance, protection, and care for Aventurine come from women, while men repeatedly represent dismissal, betrayal, or pain.

Ratio is, at least as far as Aventurine's story shows us, the proof that men can be good, that things are not as black and white in Aventurine's life as they might appear, and that--if you do choose to ship him with or see Aventurine as attracted to men--his attraction could be validated (and potentially reciprocated) by a male figure who would not bring additional harm to Aventurine's life. Aventurine makes the final decision to live after seeing Ratio's note--the exception to the rule ultimately proves to be the last piece needed to keep him alive.

But I promised I wasn't going to derail my own post about w o m e n, so let me get to the final point, and the one I really wanted to talk about: Although Ratio gets virtually all the credit for "saving" Aventurine in the fandom, Aventurine was actually saved by, you guessed it, another woman.

Not going to lie, the reason I started this post was specifically because I wanted to talk about how Acheron and Aventurine's dynamic was completely unexpected but actually fits flawlessly with the theme of feminine guidance in Aventurine's story.

Despite the fact that Aventurine made Acheron's life much harder and actively used her as a chip in his grand gamble, she doesn't blame or chastise him for those actions. Although she expresses some incredulity that Aventurine is actually that lucky, she then turns around and congratulations him for his ingenuity, immediately supporting him despite the fact that they don't even truly know each other.

Then it gets even more interesting. Acheron, who frequently hits her companions with deep and sometimes very emotionally fraught questions, asks Aventurine: "Have you never wavered?"

We as players know for a fact that Aventurine is constantly wavering, constantly doubting himself, his luck, and whether he'll even live--or even wants to live--to see tomorrow. But we also know that Aventurine is not forthcoming about those truths, refusing to express them to anyone, even himself. The only way we hear those dark truths is through his "future" self (who by the way, is once again another male figure cutting Aventurine down--of course it's himself but it's also, from the player's perspective, once again reinforcing the message that he isn't going to find safety or kindness in an adult male presence). Aventurine almost constantly deflects and diverts when his emotions or struggles are brought to the fore (unless he's divulging them for the specific purpose of allowing someone else to weaponize them). "I'm fine," he says, like a lying liar who lies.

But he doesn't lie to Acheron.

He chooses to be completely candid with her, to lance open the deepest wound of his life--that he can win and win and win and still have lost everything. The glitz and the glamour has all been stripped away here, at the end of everything, and Aventurine finally feels safe enough to admit that he fears he has absolutely nothing in his life worth living for.

And then, we get this direct parallel: Aventurine looks to Acheron, the woman now before him, for guidance, for explanation, exactly as he looked to his sister in the past.

He needs help, he needs answers, and he is continually seeking that help from the female figures in his life, whose support and kindness echo the lost care of his mother and sister.

"Go where you should be," Acheron tells Aventurine, guiding him across the river of death just as his sister insisted that he flee through the rain toward life.

Look guys, Acheron's even the one who reminds Aventurine to look at Ratio's note in the first place because apparently being an emanator of Nihility gives you x-ray vision, but my girl just gets no credit at all for being Aventurine's real savior, come on now!! Yes, Ratio's note was the final reminder Aventurine needed that someone would be waiting for him on the other side, but Aventurine would never have even gotten to the point of being willing to read that note if Acheron hadn't stepped in and provided him an answer to his question.

She feeds him back his own answer: "Why does life slumber? To rehearse the death for which we are not currently prepared." It is Acheron who reminds Aventurine that giving into the Nihility is pointless, and that rather than simply embracing a meaningless death, it is up to humanity itself to find and make meaning by living. It's this, not Ratio's note, that Aventurine gives as his reason for choosing to go on when asked by his own younger self. It's Acheron's words that finally give Aventurine an answer--why do we live just to die? Because there are people we can still make proud. Because when we go into death, we should do so with our heads held high, having achieved our own sense of purpose in this life.

Ratio gave Aventurine a promise: Someone is waiting for you to come back.

But Acheron gave Aventurine a reason: If life is inherently meaningless, doesn't that just mean you are free to give it meaning yourself?

She saved him, as women have been saving him all his life.

Anyway, this has already been horrendously long, but really what I wanted to say is that I think it is absolutely fascinating how consistent Aventurine's writing is when it comes to portraying where his support comes from and who he seeks guidance from. (Psst, just in case you still haven't figured it out, it's women!) In virtually every instance we are shown, we see the message reinforced that women are Aventurine's greatest allies and role models, while male figures are continually positioned to intentionally or unintentionally let him down and cause him distress.

"But women playing the supporting role to a male character is nothing new, Star, why are you so excited by this?"

Because the role women are playing in Aventurine's life is not the subservient supporter and emotional crutch role that female characters all too often play to male counterparts. None of the women in Penacony or Aventurine's past were there to do the emotional labor for him, to be a trophy or prize, or to cater to his needs. They don't exist solely to help him fulfill his character motivations; they aren't following him around waiting for his next request as their only role in the plot.

Instead, with Aventurine's story, we almost have an inversion of gender roles, where the male character eschews the stereotypical "men are leaders, fighters, and stoic heroes" archetype. Instead, no matter how hard he tries to hide it and keep a stiff upper lip, it is clear from 2.0-2.1's story that Aventurine is a deeply insecure, lonely, and explicitly traumatized survivor of genocide, slavery, and exploitation. Unlike most male characters, who are very rarely portrayed as genuine victims--because come on, shouldn't men be strong enough to fight back? Shouldn't men be able to shrug it off when they are hurt, emotionally or physically? (Of course I'm rolling my eyes here!)--Aventurine is belittled, humiliated, emasculated, and victimized on-screen, roles almost exclusively reserved for women, for whom surviving victimization in fiction is seen as noble.

Meanwhile, the women in Aventurine's life take on the roles traditionally given to male characters. They're both emotionally and physically his protectors. Aventurine's sister gave her life to guard his safety; Acheron ensured he could safely pass beyond the river of Nihility into the Primordial Dreamscape. They give him the tools necessary to succeed where he could not succeed on his own. His plan could never have gotten off the ground without Topaz and Jade entrusting their Cornerstones to him. The knowledge and capabilities of the women around him--not their "feminine charms"--are what allow them to help keep Aventurine on the right path even though he does waver. Even women who disrespect him, like Sparkle, still play a positive role in his life, able to provide him insight gained with their own intellect and talents.

When he has no one to rely on and doesn't know what to do, Aventurine is able to continually turn to the women around him, asking for and receiving not servitude or fawning, but their genuine wisdom and guidance.

tl;dr: If nobody else has him, Aventurine knows this random woman he met two minutes ago on the street will have him, because the women in his life literally never let him down.

(It's just so, so good, and ultimately, it should be very clear why Aventurine's story is as popular with women as it is! A+, Hoyo!)

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rumisgf · 6 months ago

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KIRSHIMA BOYFRIEND HEADCANONS

summary: kiri boyfriend hcs because he needs more love. also this has been in my drafts for too long but i finished it y’all, round of applause!

includes: fluff, female pronouns, black!reader cs duh, crack

✧ and the best boyfriend award goes to

✧ before y’all even started dating he was always so sweet to you, opening doors for you whether it was at the food place or a car

✧ he has absolutely no shame making sure whenever he’s around, you never have to lift a finger

✧ he helps you up the stairs, buys you food whenever you’re hungry, even ties your shoes for you

✧ i mean he’s your boyfriend, it’s manly!!

✧ speaking of, one of the most attractive things about him is how good he is with kids

✧ if you have nieces/nephews or baby sibling/cousins they definitely adore him and it’s so sweet

✧ and when you get far enough into your relationship, he’s eager to express that he does wanna have kids one day

✧ if you let him pull out his list of baby names he will be so happy

✧ i think eijirou is one of the men very comfortable in his masculinity compared to all the other men he’s around

✧ not to say they aren’t, but he definitely has no issue doing things deemed as “feminine” in the slightest

✧ besides, manliness to him is about not always having to prove you’re manly. you’re simply just manly.

✧ kiri will let you do his makeup all the time and he’ll post pictures on his story after

✧ and he’ll love if you do things deemed as “masculine” with no shame

✧ no matter how it sounds out loud, he’ll be like “my gf is so manly i love her”

✧ yes, you wanted to pop him the first time you heard him saying but it’s truly just how he talks he can’t help it😭😭

✧ (one time he called mina manly as a compliment and she smacked him dead in his face, though, so he doesn’t say it often)

“wow babe, you’re so manly!”

“thank you eij— wait.”

✧ even though he’s willing to do it in a heartbeat for you, kirishima has a hard time letting you buy him things

✧ it’s one traditional standard he can’t seem to shake and even then he just feels bad for some reason

✧ but weirdly, he still likes when you ask even if he’s just gonna say no😭

✧ it makes him feel bubbly that you still wanna spoil him too and maybe he’ll let you a few times

✧ one thing kirishima loves is helping you do your hair

✧ he already dyes his hair himself so i feel like he’ll be very knowledgeable about hair care

✧ and he’d do his own research for you

✧ mans learned how to part hair, he oils your scalp for you, even washes your hair for you, and he learned how to braid

✧ in return he loves when you help him dye his hair whenever his roots grow in too dark

✧ this man can barely go to sleep without cuddling you it’s starting to concern his friends a lil

✧ it’s the one thing he looks forward to at night and he always hold you so tight

✧ which is completely fine because i feel like he’d also have warm skin

✧ he’s definitely the type of boyfriend to refer to you as his lady

✧ he definitely has clips floating the internet of him calling you that during interviews at hero galas

“oh, tonight i’m here with my lady!

“i’m sure she’s somewhere, she’s still a little camera shy.”

✧ if you’re the quiet type, he absolutely has no problem speaking up for you or just talking when you’re too nervous

✧ kirishima loves picking you up, you could be with friends and he’ll randomly just hoist you up into his arms

✧ when he works out, he begs you to do things like spot him or sit on his back while he does push ups

✧ or lay under him while he does them so he can give you kisses

✧ although one habit he does have is hugging up all on you while he’s still sweaty after he comes back from the gym

✧ i think he’d love a partner who does sports, so if the school has any college teams he’ll try to convince you to join even if you never did sports in high school

✧ he also thinks it would be fun for you and he always wants you to have fun

✧ in general, he loves being able to make you smile

✧ if you’re ever having a bad day, he’s the best at giving advice or just comforting you

✧ and not to mention, gives top tier hugs

✧ when you start crying about anything he literally drops everything and runs to you

✧ to the point where even your friends will text him whenever you do and he’ll be there in an instant

✧ eijirou absolutely loves giving you flowers

✧ he’ll seriously find any excuse to show up wherever you are with a bouquet in hand ready to give to you

✧ valentine’s days? flowers

✧ birthday? flowers.

✧ passed an exam? flowers.

✧ having a bad day? flowers.

✧ having a good day? flowers.

✧ just because he felt like it? flowers

“awww this is so sweet baby, but what’s the occasion?”

“don’t worry about it sweetheart, just pose with ‘em so i can take pictures of your pretty self.”

✧ in conclusion, he’s the man of your dreams

@ rumisgf

#mha kirishima #kirshima eijirou #kirishima x reader #kirishima eijirou #bnha kirishima #kirishima headcanons #kirishima hcs #kirishima x black reader #eijirou x reader #eijirou x black reader #mha x black female reader #mha x black reader #mha headcanons #my hero academia #bnha

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jinnie-ret · 1 year ago

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9th member reader where skz are on a talk show or smth and the host is saying some uncomfy stuff abt reader being the only girl in a group of boys. the boys would be kinda passive aggressive about their replies because they cant outright say anything for fear of bad publicity and being disrespectful. i like the idea of the boys sticking up for reader in any way they can, even if they have to be sly about it so reader knows they have their back

bite my tongue

stray kids x ninth member!reader

genre: angst

content warnings: sexual harassment (verbal)

word count: 1.6k

summary: when an interviewer decides to pick on you specifically, the boys do their best to hold back and get you out of the situation.

Thank you so much for this request! I'm sorry it took so long for me to answer but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!!

As always, like, reblog if you enjoyed, and my asks are open for any requests you may have. And let me know if you'd like to be tagged when I post :)

MAIN MASTERLIST

You decided you hated interviews. There was clearly a difference between how they'd talk to the boys in comparison to how they'd treat you. Whether it was by completely ignoring your existence or sexualising you as the only female in the group, it made you feel awful. The gross comments that were made caused you to feel uncomfortable, yet your demeanour was too shy to fight back. Perhaps that was a good thing, you had 8 other members to defend you at all times anyways.

You were currently doing an interview to promote S-CLASS, your new title track, and it seemed to be a nice atmosphere, a nice sit down conversation where you could talk about your music mixed in with other personal questions to make it more fun. But that was the issue, it wasn't fun. It started off light-hearted, and you worried you were being sensitive and overreacting at first when you suspected the questions you received weren't normal ones, but by the expressions on the boys' faces, you realised you were right to feel this way.

"So, Y/N, tell me, what was it like getting to do a more masculine dance this time? I saw the music video and I was quite surprised at how well you did," the male interviewer started off.

You mouth visibly dropped open in shock, yet you did your best to answer, despite your nerves.

"Ummm, I think my dance skills have improved over the years, yes," you said, not able to make eye contact with the man, not directly saying anything about his prejudiced words.

You had been with Stray Kids from the very start. Yes, the public had their things to say about you being in a group with a bunch of guys, but it had been 5 years now. Of course you were accustomed to the dance style of Stray Kids. You had created your own image through your music and dance, so what if the dance moves were typically more powerful with sharper movements? You were part of the dance line for a reason.

"Our Y/Nnie did so well," Hyunjin ruffled your hair from where he was sat behind you, trying to lighten the mood as he could tell his other members weren't too happy with how you were being treated.

You turned to Hyunjin with a thankful smile.

"So, 3RACHA, you do all the producing for the group right? That's quite a unique situation amongst idol groups," the man asked the group, and nearly everyone let out a sigh of relief and allowed themselves to smile, grateful for a normal question.

"Ah yes, 3RACHA have been together since predebut, so we've worked hard over the years to create music that represents our group and who we are," Jisung nodded and explained.

You couldn't help but check the time on your watch, seeing there was still 10 minutes to go.

"Y/N, how did it feel having to squeeze into your outfit in the MV? I noticed it was quite a tight leather jumpsuit you wore, that must have been difficult to wear considering it clinged onto you so tightly," the man directed his question at you again, and you were taken aback once more.

"It, umm, it wasn't too difficult, yeah... I think it fitted the vibe of the song," you said, clearly uncomfortable as you shifted in your seat.

Why did you get these types of questions? The boys got asked about music, and you instead got ridiculed for your skills and sexualised by the gross man in his mid 40s.

"Don't you want to ask me about how I fitted into my outfit? I've been working out these days," Changbin tensed his arms, flexing and patting his muscles proudly as he took the attention away from you. He seemed to have been thinking the same way as you.

"Maybe you should help Y/N, she's so small and weak, you could do anything you wanted with her," the man suggestively wiggled his eyebrows at you, and quite frankly, you wanted to throw up.

"Have you been working out, sir?" Minho spoke sharply and asked the man, infuriated.

"Oh yes I'm quite strong, can lift just about anyone in this room," he said. The statement of course, inferred he was challenging everyone else, yet his eyes never left your shy and nervous figure sat on the stool.

Everyone could see it. And they knew it was time for something to be done. They didn't think they could last the rest of the interview without punching the interviewer in the face. Yet, they did their best to keep their composure.

"Sorry, sir," Chan began through gritted teeth, tongue poking his cheek, "unfortunately we don't have anymore time for this interview," and he gestured everyone to stand up and follow his lead, exiting the room.

As you did so, you saw the blatantly shocked face on the man's face, Felix wrapping an arm around your shoulder as you left.

The boys were calm, until you made it to your backstage room where you had gotten ready earlier. All hell broke loose.

"What does that man think he's doing?" Changbin slammed his hand down onto the table, making you jump as you stayed quiet.

"I can't believe all those stupid things he was saying!" Minho growled, folding his arms.

"He's disgusting," Seungmin shook his head.

Chan was the angriest of them all, face of thunder as he paced the room. And yet, you couldn't help but feel bad. Surely, that interview couldn't be released now? And it was meant to help promote your new music, and because of your presence in the group, you felt like you were taking that opportunity away from them.

"Y/Nnie?" Jeongin waved his hand in your face to get your attention.

"Hmm?" you shook your head wondering what he was asking.

"Are you okay?" he asked gently, and with all the anger that was in the room, it dissipated with your calm voice breaking through it.

"I guess..." you didn't really know what to say at this point. You felt like you should have been used to it by now.

"I know that look on your face, Y/Nnie, don't even go there," Chan shook his head at you, a frown still present on his face.

"I don't want to do interviews anymore," you suddenly blurted, fiddling with your hands nervously.

"Y/N..." Hyunjin sighed, but you cut him off.

"Every time we promote something we get an interview like this that can't be put out to the public. And it's because I'm here. And then that means our music will be getting out to less people out there and-" you fretted.

"If you seriously think this is your fault Y/N," Seungmin sat up, pure disbelief seeping through his words as he couldn't believe that even with the way you were being treated you still felt guilty.

"Y/N, you didn't make that interviewer say all those gross things towards you," Felix rubbed your shoulder soothingly.

"You actually did really well to still try and answer him," Jisung nodded at you, thinking that he wouldn't have been able to have done the same thing.

"I had to bite my tongue so many times to not shout at him," Changbin gritted his teeth.

"This is why I shouldn't do these anymore, because it just ends up stressing you guys out," you felt bad, sitting down with your leg bouncing up and down.

"You're worried about us? We're worried about you, it's not fair that someone talks to you like that," Jeongin shook his head, hands on his hips.

"Y/N, here's what we're going to do. First, we're going to file a complaint against that guy. And second, for all future interviews we'll get the company to do a thorough check on if they're respectful and actually treat their guests right," Chan began, a plan already sorted in his mind for what action they could take.

"You're part of this group as much as anyone else, we can't represent Stray Kids without you there with us," Minho said like it was obvious, but it didn't feel that way to you.

"But it's always going to be the same thing. I'd rather not risk it again," you say, upset at the situation you had all been put in.

"Chan hyung already said, we can check what the show is like before going on it. That way you can decide from there, yeah?" Felix suggested, hand stroking through your hair as he sat next to you on the sofa.

"Or if you really don't want to do interviews anymore, I'm sure there's a way we can work around it. We could do more company based promotions and Div.1 can help us make our own shows?" Jisung wondered.

"No, I don't want to make things more complicated... I'll do them, I will, I just don't want this to ever happen again. It stresses me out, makes me feel all, gross," you shuddered.

"As long as you're sure, Y/N," Changbin checked in on you as everyone grabbed their things ready to leave the studio.

"Yeah, I'm sure," you mustered up a small smile, leaving with the others.

As you walked to the cars, you spoke up again, speaking louder than your normal quiet voice to catch the attention of everyone else.

"Thanks, by the way guys. Thank you for doing that."

"You don't have to thank us for that, Y/Nnie. We'd do that anytime, you know that," Hyunjin ruffled your hair, him and the rest of the boys now seeming more themselves and happier as you were leaving.

tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng

#skz #stray kids #stray kids x reader #skz fluff #skz x reader #skz angst #straykids imagines #stray kids fluff #skz fic #stray kids imagines #skz ninth imagines #skz ninth #skz ninth member imagines #skz ninth member #stray kids ninth #stray kids ninth member #skz 9th member #stray kids 9th member #stray kids angst

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auspicioustidings · 2 months ago

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Kinktober Day 1

Moniker: Soap Risk Level: Low. Soap is a part-time resident who is detained as needed. He is currently not detained and is visiting freely. Brief: Oral sex, “69”ing. Note Soap has biologically female genitalia with an enlarged clitoris or “t-cock”. He accepts feminine and masculine terms for this. Safeword: The word RED is to be used by any party if at any point the session must stop. If any party is unable to vocalise they are to signal physically by touching their thumb to each of their fingers in sequence to signify RED. At no point should any party be both unable to vocalise and unable to signal physically. In the event that this happens, RED will be considered in action and the session will be stopped.

Thought losing your virginity on the first day might scare you off so I’ve shuffled the plan around. You’ve spoken with Soap before, helped him diffuse a bomb on the Medusa mission. He’s insistent you got along so hope having him first helps settle your nerves. I’m on cameras for this one, so I’ve got your back - Price

Well fuck you sideways, your first sexual experience with another person and Captain John Price was going to be watching. You don’t know how he thought that was supposed to settle your nerves. The poor paper that briefing was on had been twisted to pieces in your nervous hands as you made your way to the room. This was where you’d go everytime, this was where you worked. You’d seen it once and Kate had stressed that it would be thoroughly sanitized and reset after each use to fit whatever purpose it needed to. She further stressed that anybody who entered this room had been tested for any transmittable diseases, sexual, blood borne or otherwise, and would only be permitted entry if they came back clean. That wasn’t terrifying at all.

Did you knock? That would be the polite thing to do. Well the correct thing to do at least, Soap was a Sergeant and while the ranks were different in your service your equivalent would be somewhere around Corporal, a rank beneath him. Did he remember you or did Price just know as his Captain that you had spoken before?

The door opened and you about had a heart attack as Soap stood grinning before grabbing your wrist and yanking you through. You had sort of pictured him as handsome because he had a nice voice, but you hadn’t expected him to be so damn broad. Bomb specialists tended to be a little more wirey in your experience.

“Price said ye were out there having a moment, but I’ve only got the day with ye so cannae be wasting time.”

The room did not look as it had when you had visited it. It was warmer now, more welcoming. The raised platform in the middle had a big bed on it with a soft looking duvet. You couldn’t help but smile seeing all the bedclothes were tartan. So the soldier of the day had some say then.

“Right, first off cannae believe I get ye first. I bitched Price’s ear off but didnae think I had a chance. Very, very grateful tae my bonnie Captain for naw ignoring me though” he said, loudly announcing his thanks and sending a grin to the camera in the corner. “I ken ye probably have a bundle of nerves rioting in that pretty stomach, but ye need tae get over them and get over them fast because I need tae winch your cunt.”

You started choking as a gasp caused saliva to go down the wrong pipe. He laughed and patted your back, or at least he started on your back but his hand very much wandered to your ass and squeezed, hard.

It was a knee jerk reaction. You didn’t fully catch up to what your body had even done until you saw the blood streaming from his nose. Shit. You thought for sure Price was about to march in here and give you a dressing down for punching his solider in the face on your first day as a glorified sex toy.

“S-sorry! I wasn’t expecting you to… I mean I know that’s why I’m here, it was instinct” you blurted, getting increasingly panicked at the feral glint in his eye as he rubbed a hand across his nose which only served to smear the blood everywhere.

“Look at the camera for me hen, aye that’s it. Now tell Price that nice wee safeword so he kens ye remember it. The non-verbal version too.”

You shakily followed his instruction, freaked out at how calm and warm his voice was when his eyes were still manic.

“That should dae it, aye Captain? All mine until ye safeword out now hen.”

He attacked you, no other way to describe it with how fast and violent he was in grabbing your face and shoving his tongue into your mouth. He was still bleeding and you could taste it, could feel it stick to your skin. It’s not like you had never kissed someone before, but you never realised just how another tongue could bully yours, writhing against it and pushing it around at it’s pleasure. Oh fuck, if that’s what it was doing in your mouth… an almost painful jolt shot to your clit and you jumped at the shock.

He led you backwards until you hit the bed and then his hands were gripping the back of your thighs so he could use a combination of strength and momentum to lift you a little and toss you back onto the bed. You stared at him as his mouth broke of from yours with the movement. His face was a mess, blood and saliva coating his lips and chin even as the fresh blood had started to slow from his nose.

“Fucking need this hen” he said, almost a keening whine, as he shoved your legs apart and buried his face between them. “Been dying of thirst, ye need tae drown me.”

It was overwhelming just how desperate he seemed and you were shocked and embarrassed at the whimper that spilled from you when he started to lick and chew on the seam of your jeans. The scrape of teeth through the thick fabric had you feeling your heartbeat throb through your clit and your legs were trying to close, you weren’t sure if it was to escape the sensation or chase it with friction, but he muscled his shoulders between them and gripped hard around your thighs so they were locked open.

“Think ye can soak through them? I can make ye soak through them, fuck” he groaned, kissing and tonguing your jeans like he had your mouth.

It was so erotic and so wrong, he was leaving them marked with blood and spit and you felt powerless to do anything about it. You didn’t know if you were getting wet over it and you fisted the duvet below, the urge to run your fingers under your jeans and panties and check flooding through you. It was as if he knew because the next moment he was pressing the pads of two fingers hard against your opening over the jeans, but it was enough. Your panties grabbed onto the slick that had pooled around your hole and it was like a dam breaking, suddenly you could feel it everywhere.

“I-I-” you started, not actually sure what you needed but needing something.

“Nae patience eh?” he said, lifting his head to peer up at you, the picture of some decadent predator feasting on his prey. “Say please.”

“Please?”

“Say please Johnny, get me naked and eat my cunt.”

You felt like your cheeks had just become about equal to the surface of the sun in terms of heat. You had listened to fucking torture sessions to gather intel but dirty talk from this bloodied creature was the thing that tied your tongue up? There was almost an anger at yourself over it. No wonder you were a fucking virgin if you couldn’t even handle this, they should have chosen one of the confident candidates who would already have made demands of him.

“Naw, stop thinking hen. Please Johnny, get me naked and eat my cunt” he repeated expectantly, keeping his eyes on you even as his head turned and he nipped his teeth into the meat of your thigh.

“…please Johnny, get me naked and eat my cunt.”

He was about ready to cum from hearing you say that particular nickname so sweetly.

“Good lass” he said, planting a kiss where he had just sunk his teeth and wasting no time undoing the button on your jeans and peeling them down your legs, his eyes taking in everything underneath them on the way. “That all for me?”

You had forgotten the prep you had done over the last week. Hairless, smooth, soft. It hadn’t been a plan so much as a mad evening of bathing, shaving and nearly drowning yourself in scented oils and lotions in some sort of panic. Lingerie that you had nearly bailed on because it was so delicate and lacy and see through that it felt a level of sensual you weren’t confident in pulling off was now on full display for him and the fabric was so thin that your arousal was making it cling lewdly.

“Aye, think that’s all for me” he grinned as your jeans hit the floor with a thunk.

Fuck he was a sight. He looked like he had just been tearing into a carcass. You had around 5 seconds to take a breath and try prepare before his head was back between your legs. You didn’t realise how much the jeans had muted the sensations, but now with barely a scrap of thin fabric between your pussy and his mouth you saw stars. There was a scream that you vaguely realised was coming from you. His hair was so soft in your fingers, you felt delirious almost as you mumbled out a question about what conditioner he used and then about died when he chuckled right against your clit before he pulled back and ever so slowly pulled your panties off.

“Fuck that’s pretty” he commented before bringing your panties to his nose and rubbing them against his nostrils.

It broke some of the congealing blood, caused a little trickle to start up again. He didn’t seem to care and after another huff neatly, reverently folded your panties and placed them on a little table at the side. Your shirt he was quick with and showed less care, it going flying to rest on the floor a few inches from your jeans.

“These are pretty too hen, if Price wouldnae gie me a spanking for going off brief I’d fuck them” he said as he squeezed your tits together. “Just a wee taste.”

A wee taste here meant him crushing your tits together so he could suck both nipples into his mouth with such force you bowed off of the bed and felt like the wind had been knocked right out of you. Your bra was taken off and folded with the same reverence your panties had been, placed on the table with pink marks on the cups from that little trickle of blood. Most of the blood around his mouth was gone now, only a pink tinge left among all the spit and arousal.

“Ye ever cum for anyone else before?”

“I… no. I mean I’ve done it myself. Or with stuff to help.”

“Price remind me tae blow you later!”

With that he latched on your swollen clit. At first he suckled, humming as he did which drove you fucking mad. Then he pulled off with a slurp, gathered more wetness from your hole on his tongue and drooled it back on your clit. The tip of his tongue flicked at it rapidly, ramping up in speed as your body coiled tighter and tighter.

The noises were erotically disgusting, wet. You tried to tug his hair to get him to let up because you were going to explode, his writhing tongue was about to send you right over the edge.

“S-stop, gonna cum” you panted, trying to hold on.

“That’s the idea hen.”

“The brief said you wanted to… do other things?”

“Aye?”

He had stopped at least and your body was slowly stepping back from the cliff which felt awful. But the brief said he wanted to “69” so you couldn’t cum this early. You just looked down at him debauched between your legs, waiting for him to move on to the next part.

“When ye play with this fat pussy, dae ye stop at one?”

You felt a little panicked at his question. Theoretically, you knew people with your anatomy could have multiple orgasms. In practice you usually just got off and left it at that. It didn’t feel good to keep touching when you were so sensitive after cumming anyway. You sort of shrugged in response.

“Oh hen, you’re going tae gie me 2 like this, 2 when I eat ye from the back and then we can move on so you can have a taste of me. Thinking at least 3 while your lips are wrapped around my cock.”

“I- what? I don’t think I can have that many.”

“Thought I told ye tae stop thinking?” he said with a wink before he dove back in.

If you thought he was giving you his best before, you were quickly disabused of that notion. It took him around 5 seconds. His mouth latched onto you and his tongue eagerly abused your clit without any respite. You rocketed right back to that edge and went tumbling off, thrashing on the bed while he just pinned your hips down and kept going. Your pussy clenched in waves that seemed to never fucking stop.

It was uncomfortable when the orgasm was done but you were still being stimulated and you tried again to shove him away, but fuck he was strong. He refused to be moved, lapping messily at you with a desperation that gave you goosebumps.

“Stop, I can’t!”

“Ye fucking can” he barked back, teeth scraping on your now very oversensitive clit in warning. “Now get your legs up.”

He shoved upwards with his shoulders while his hands forced your legs back, bending you in half. Your hips were tilted now, both of your holes so fully on display for him that it made some undignified sound of humiliation come from you.

He feasted. No part of you escaped him - he licked the seams where your legs met your torso, he sucked on your lips and you wondered if they would bruise with lovebites, he lapped at your rim and had you screeching when he bullied his tongue in, only stopping when a beep sounded in the room.

“Aww fuck off Captain, her arse is fair game for oral!”

Another beep.

“Killjoy. Sorry hen, nae rest for your delicious wee cunt.”

You knew the tongue was a dexterous muscle, but fuck it was insane how he managed to get so much of it inside your pussy. He massaged your walls, flattened and curled the appendage and then flicked it fast. The barest brush of his pinky on your clit was enough to set you off again. You were sure you were nearly pulling his hair out when you came and he drank it up like wine. Decadently, savouring.

His face was a wreck, strings of spit and cum connecting him to you and then snapping and dripping off when he moved his head further away. There was a little blood around his nose, the rest long gone from all the fluids helping to dilute it. You licked your lips only to taste iron. That was right, he may have gotten wet enough to soak it off, but his blood was still all over you.

Fuck he looked drunk. His eyes were unfocused and dreamy, a dopey smile on his face as he went to his knees and looked down at you splayed underneath him. There was a wet spot, a large one, on the duvet. You felt boneless, like you had run a marathon. You weren’t sure you could move. But despite that you couldn’t help but drag your eyes across his still clothed body.

The brief had said he had biologically female genitals, but that his clit was enlarged. You’d never heard of the term t-dick but now it was all you could think about. You wanted to make him feel the way you did, boneless and ready to sleep for two days straight.

“Ask me.”

“What?”

“Can see ye thinking away hen, ask me what it is you’re wanting tae.”

“Oh…” you said, trying to bring your fuzzy brain back online and be brave. “I want to see you. And uh… you know.”

He stripped his t-shirt off with one arm and it was like a damn porno as he tossed it on the floor.

“Cannae say I do hen, ye need tae tell me.”

You sighed in frustration and squeezed your eyes shut.

“Taste you. I want to taste you the way you tasted me.”

“Aye ye do. Still owe me 2 before that though.”

You shot up. He could not be serious. You were already about dead. He could not actually expect you to cum two more times before you even got to the next part of the briefing. You’d fucking die, you were sure of it. You snarled at him when he went to grab you and it was an actual fight.

Your wrestled with him, feeling the burn of something like humiliation whenever your pussy rubbed up somewhere on his body. At one point you tried to lock your legs around his torso, feeling like fireworks went off when you rubbed against the hair running down past the hem of his sweatpants. You squealed in alarm when he wrestled you off and it left a shining wet streak across his skin. You fought hard but you had no chance against him as he roughly got you over onto your knees and shoved hard between your shoulder blades to pin you to the bed.

Your hips wanted to follow, to collapse down, but he didn’t let them. He bullied his knees between yours to spread them and gripped hard onto your hips to give him control over exactly where your hot, wet cunt was. Perfect position for him to dig in.

Another beep.

He grabbed you by the back of the neck and you whimpered when he wrenched your head up and turned it to the camera.

“Tell him ye still ken the safeword” he growled.

“I still know the safeword.”

His other hand cupped your slippery and unbearably tender cunt and gave a warning squeeze.

“You’ll remember yer manners soldier.”

“I still know the safeword, sir.”

Satisfied he pinned your head back to the mattress, returned his hand to your hip and maneuvered you so your hole was at just the right height for him.

He dug in.

Oh God, oh God from this angle anytime his mouth was at your clit the rest of his face was getting soaked by your gushing hole. He seemed so much closer now, like he was somehow inside you. His beard felt like it was ripping your lips apart and the prickly pins of pain were so sharp against the all consuming pleasure.

He was suctioned to you, only ever pulling of for a second to take a deep, gulping breath. There was a reluctance to breathe, to ever do anything but drink you down even if it meant he was half suffocating himself.

You tried to have any coherent thoughts about this. It was insane. You had signed up to help him get this out of his system but so far you were pretty sure you should be hiring him and not the other way around. You never knew this could be so all consuming, that your whole body would be so easily played by someone. You were at his mercy, every thump of your heart sending blood wherever the hell he decided it needed to go.

The next orgasm was powerful. It sent your body wild, your legs violently shaking and a choking scream fighting past your lips. You fucking hated him in that moment. He was so eagerly eating at your cunt, taking so much pleasure from it. It made you want it. You wanted to eat him out. You wanted to feel what he was feeling. But he wanted another orgasm from you first so he wasn’t stopping even with you screaming at him.

“Fuck you! I can’t go again, I can’t! Let me see you, let me taste you Johnny! It’s not fair!”

You’d lost any sense of shame. You think you might have lost any sense at all when you screamed your throat raw as your body fought the stimulation, tried and failed to get away so then just accepted it.

Cumming this time felt different. It was almost sore to have your muscles contract again, so exhausting you wanted to cry and beg to just sleep.

He slowed down, was gentle in cleaning you up with his tongue. When his grip on your hips loosened you collapsed to the bed, panting.

You could hear him taking his sweats off and it was the only thing to will you to turn yourself over onto your back. You needed to see him. You fucking needed it more than you needed anything as inconsequential as rest.

At first you felt like your brain was shorting out. He was standing at the end of the bed, now totally naked. His body was gorgeous, rugged. Your mouth watered as your eyes trailed down, following the path of hair to his pussy. He certainly hadn’t shaved in a panic like you had, the hair was just as thick between his legs as it was everywhere else. His fingers were lazily playing with his clit and you swore it was a cock.

It stood proudly through the thatch of dark hair, was dripping like you imagined a cock would. But that’s what it was. You understood now why the brief had called it a t-cock. Oh God you wanted to kiss, lick, suck - devour him the way he had you.

“Go on then hen, get that wet wee mouth on my cock” he said, his tone that of a man indulging the whims of some silly creature whose desperation he found cute.

You swallowed thickly, your body slow in moving through the exhaustion as you got to your knees and crawled across the bed to him. At first it was just a kitten lick, a little taste. Sweat, salt and something tangy and sweet. He was so slippery beneath your tongue and it was instinct to lap up the liquid, to keep chasing the strange taste.

“That’s it, good lass. There you go” he said, barely above a whisper as if coaxing some scared prey animal.

You shifted to get a more solid position, knees splaying wide to get you the right height and hands gripping his thick thighs. You needed to taste more, feel more. You fucking needed your mouth on him like you needed oxygen. You needed to drink down his arousal, the proof of what his body thought of yours.

He smiled down at you in tentative delight. You were so gone for this, all that trepidation vanished as you savoured the first tasting of him. No longer the shy thing that he had dragged into the room, now an animal understanding that the feast came before all. He knew the place you had went to couldn’t be permanent but while you were there he intended to enjoy it.

There was no skill in what you were doing, just a clumsy and selfish exploration. Your concept of time floated away as you treated his cunt and cock like the mouth of a stranger in the drunken haze of a club, wet, sloppy kisses against the heat of him.

He was dripping down your chin, the red around your mouth tinging pink and eventually being drowned entirely. His hands were massaging softly on your scalp, your shoulders. You wanted to stay here forever. He could not think of a compelling reason why not.

“Fuck, need tae get your taste back on my tongue” he groaned.

You barely registered your body being moved, only focused on keeping that connection to him. You wanted to crawl inside him, live there. Your nails dug into the meat of his thighs when you muscled your tongue inside his hole and felt the walls of him eagerly try to coax you deeper.

He maneuvered his body over yours and somewhere in the recesses of your brain you knew you should find this dangerous. He was big over you, could choose to drop his weight and smother you. Instead you found it comforting, like a warm nest for him to keep you safe and fed in.

“You’re so fucking pretty hen. Want tae keep you all tae myself.”

“You taste so good” you said, words muffled from the now insistent press of his wet cock on your face.

Everything was so wet, so hot. Touch yes, but scent and sound were both soaking, dripping, gushing. The first time he came you thanked him and begged him for more, more, more as your hips writhed up against his mouth.

You were sobbing when you came back online. You had been for a while from how tight your chest felt and the way your eyes stung with dryness. You were crying out broken words, begging him, saying you couldn’t.

“Ye can, one more. Just one more.”

Fuck, everything was tender and sore. No wonder you were such a wreck, your body was too wrung of pleasure that it could only give you pain now. He was relentless at your pussy and when you came this time it fucking hurt. Every muscle was cramping horribly.

“No more Johnny” you whined even as he ground his cock clumsily against your face and moaned through his own pained orgasm.

“Aye, one more. Need it hen, fuck. Could die in this pussy.”

You didn’t know how his tongue kept going, yours was useless now. You could only hold it out for him to rut against. You only knew he came again from how he howled. Your face was so covered in him that another flood barely registered. You really couldn’t anymore. You felt like you were about to die.

“Red.”

You mumbled it so softly and deliriously that you weren’t expecting anything to come of it, but he patted your flank and rolled off of you to lay on his back and pant.

“Jesus Christ hen, where the fuck did Price find you?” he said, voice hoarse and rough.

You couldn’t move. He didn’t seem mad at all that you had safe worded out at least. No, instead he pulled himself up with a long groan to flop down beside you.

“Gie me 20 minutes for a cuddle and a nap then I’ll get ye all cleaned up aye? I’ll let ye use my conditioner.”

And then he was snoring in your ear, his sweaty body wrapped around yours as you drifted off to unconsciousness.

—

Price was exhausted. He hadn’t intended to wank to you, but you had put those big, wet eyes on the camera and called him sir and then all bets were off. Christ alive the two of you had went for hours, writhing like animals on that bed.

He though after he had cum it would relief the pressure, but then you had so sweetly crawled over to lap at his boy’s cunt and he got hard all over again.

Soap certainly did owe him a blow job. You had been perfect for him, let him push his pleasure too far like he loved. And now there you both were boneless and passed out in puddles of arousal. He groaned imagining how the room must smell.

But he wasn’t needed. Soap was exhausted himself yes, but he enjoyed looking after a lover after such an intense experience and Price would not deprive him of that.

Part of him was tempted to change the plan, get you to one of the residents earlier, one of the ones who would ruin you so badly that you would need Price afterwards.

Thankfully, he was just about a good man when he dismissed the thought.

#mhairiwrites #mhairi'skinktober #going to ignore my own posting schedule since I already fucked it up and posted then deleted this at the wrong time anyway

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babybluebex · 9 months ago

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venus pt.1 | angus tully x fem!reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: after being accepted as barton academy's first female student, you didn't think it could get any worse. as the fall semester progresses, you start to form a friendship with the outcast, angus, but what happens when the holidays come and you are the last two students on campus? PART 1 OF ? 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: angus tully (the holdovers, 2023) x fem!reader 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: canon compliance (this is a complete rewrite of the film, just with the added reader insert), lots of swearing, teddy is an asshole but what's new, 70s ideals about feminism (which YES is a warning), mentions of grief/loss 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: oof here we go, part 1 of my long-teased angus fic! be aware that this is literally 11k words, so i apologize for the absolute brick wall of text you're about to encounter (but don't worry, i put a read more on it :) ) also, if i missed any warnings/tags, pls dm me and let me know if you think i should add something! other than that, enjoy!

There were worse fates than this, right? There had to be, you were sure of it. You felt every pair of eyes on you as you walked down the center aisle of the chapel, acutely aware of the overwhelming masculine energy that you were drowning in. After all, at Barton, it wasn’t every day that these boys saw a girl. You wondered how long some of them had gone without laying eyes on a member of the opposite sex (a real one; skin mags don’t count).

It also didn’t help that the priest at the front of the room had intentionally brought everyone’s eyes to you the moment you walked in. You had tried to slip in unnoticed, but he had said “Ah, here she is now: our very first Barton lady! Come sit up front with the headmaster!”

You anchored yourself in the frontmost pew, next to the headmaster with a hippie beard, and kept your head still and staring straight ahead. You had known very little about Barton before that school year— you were from nearby Boston, and had gone to a larger high school with, not only a more mixed gender breakdown, but a significantly different economic situation than Barton. You had been shocked, as you took the bus from town to campus, at how many Mercedes and Cadillacs you had seen near the school. You felt like a fish out of water, in more ways than one.

The priest didn’t end his taunting when you sat down, though. “Many of you probably wondered, when you got on campus for the beginning of the semester, what the new building next to the dormitory was,” he began, and you heard a few mumblings from the row behind you, confirming their confusion. “Well, gentlemen, this year… Barton has become coeducational. The new building, Blackwell Hall, named for the esteemed Elizabeth Blackwell, is the girl’s dormitory.”

The mumbling behind you increased to a dull rumble, and you slightly turned your head to get a glance at the boys sitting behind you. All high school boys, kids your age, staring at you and wondering what your deal was. You took notice of one boy in particular, the only one around you not gossiping with his friends, totally uninterested and picking at his cuticles. Before you could even think to wonder about this boy, someone from near the back of the chapel yelled “Is she gonna be in classes with us?”

“Yes, she will,” the priest said. “She is a junior, so, gentlemen, make sure you welcome her warmly to our school.”

You sat and endured chapel while burning from all the stares in your direction, and, as soon as the priest dismissed the lot of you, you shot up and made your way to the doors, clutching your handbag close to your body. The August air hit your face as you stepped out, and you started back to Blackwell Hall, where your things sat, ready to be unpacked, but someone called out to you, demanding your attention.

“Hey, girl!” You turned to see who had shouted, and you were met with the sight of a boy with caramel-colored hair, wearing a sports coat and tie. Come to think of it, all the boys were wearing coats and ties. You hadn’t been told anything about a uniform, and suddenly your jeans felt less than appropriate. The boy had a cigarette in his hand, and he beckoned you over to him, and you clenched your back teeth as you (for some reason) obeyed.

“You’re a junior, huh?” the boy asked, and you nodded. “What classes are you taking?”

You pursed your lips. “Precalc,” you began. “Ancient Civ. Home Ec. Bio.”

“Gym?” he asked, and you shook your head.

“There’s not a girls’ locker room,” you said, hoping he understood your explanation.

The boy ashed his cigarette, and he said, “What period do you have Ancient Civ?”

You tried to recall what you had written down, and you said, “Fourth period, I think. With Hunham.”

“Oh,” the boy said with a winning smile. “I’m in that period too. Maybe we could be study partners.”

You drew in a breath and cleared your throat. “Maybe,” you said softly. “What’s your name?”

“Teddy,” he replied. “Kountze.”

“Right,” you mumbled. “Well, um, I’ll see you around, Teddy.”

“Um, are you going to the cafeteria?” Teddy asked hastily, like he was looking for something to talk to you about. “I-I was about to head there, and, if you wanted someone to sit with, I have a spare seat at my table.”

“I’m not,” you told him. “Gotta get back to my dorm and finish unpacking. I only got in town today.”

“How did…” Teddy started. “How did you get in? Your folks hear that Barton was going coed and got you in?”

You shook your head. “I went to Central High School, in Boston,” you replied. “I was doing a research project and saw in a newspaper that Barton was going coed and having a lottery for the first female student. I sorta put my name in as a joke, and then, when I won, it… Wasn’t really a joke anymore. I had to take some academic placement tests, since Central isn’t exactly a highbrow school, and I got a scholarship that covered a lot of my tuition. The board of trustees waived the rest of it, so…”

“You’re going here for free?” Teddy asked incredulously. “Jesus, I didn’t even know we had scholarships.”

“Of course you wouldn’t, Kountze,” a voice said from nearby, and you turned your shoulder to see the boy from chapel who didn’t give a shit about you. He stood tall, rail thin, a mop of dark curls on top of his head. He had eyes like black holes, his pale skin so translucent around his eye sockets that he had purplish-red bags underneath. “Nobody’s going to tell the bottom scum about possible academic achievements. It’s cruel to tease people with something they’ll never have.”

“Fuck off, Tully,” Teddy snapped. “Don’t you have some porno mag waiting for you?”

The boy (you supposed his name was Tully) pushed his hands into the pockets of his coat and skulked away, and you scoffed under your breath. “Charming,” you mumbled, but you couldn’t tear your gaze away from his back as he left the scene.

“Jesus, yeah,” Teddy said. “That’s Angus Tully. Biggest asshole here, thinks he’s better than everyone else. God knows why, he’s such a fuckin’ loser. He’s in Hunham’s fourth period too.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at Angus Tully’s back, and then redirected your attention to Teddy, who was presently snubbing out his cigarette with the toe of his shoe. “I’ll see you in class tomorrow,” you said softly, and, without another word, departed for your dorm.

You appreciated that Barton had built a separate dorm for the female students, but, seeing as you were the sole resident of the building, you were irked by it. It was too big and empty, too lifeless and soulless. Certainly, they had built it with future generations in mind, hoping that more girls would eventually enroll and prove the building a necessity, but, for now, you found yourself aching with loneliness. You missed your mom and your sisters, in your small apartment in downtown Boston, just a few blocks from your old high school. You missed hearing Linda Ronstadt records playing from your older sister’s room (the one she shared with your mom), or the ceaseless sound of the air conditioning unit buzzing away in the window of your room (the one you shared with your other older sister). Barton just felt too… Good for you. But, it was as your mother had told you: it was an opportunity that you could not afford to pass up.

You didn’t have a lot to unpack, and you hung up your clothes as you chewed your lip. For some reason, the interaction outside the chapel was sticking with you. Not Teddy, although he certainly had made himself hard to forget. No, you were thinking about Angus Tully, apparently the head asshole of Assholedom. You would be seeing him tomorrow too, for the first day of classes, in Hunham’s Ancient Civ class. You had never taken a class like that— your old school didn’t even offer the Advanced Placement program, so obnoxiously pretentious classes like that were out of your realm of understanding— and you were almost worried that you would flunk right out.

You tossed and turned all night, dreading sunrise and morning. Breakfast was served at 7, and classes began at 8, beginning with Precalc for you, then transitioning into Biology. After third period free, you had Ancient Civ, then an hour for lunch, then Home Ec, then your last few hours of the school day were reserved for something that, on the fax paper that you had been given at the front office, was called “Secretarial Studies”. You hated to think what that meant (surely, Barton wasn’t trying to prime you for being a secretary and nothing more), but mostly, it meant that your school day basically ended earlier than for others.

You awoke early, showered and scrubbed yourself clean (the water pressure in the shower was better than the fourth floor apartment that you used to deal with), and you dressed yourself in what you hoped was becoming of a Barton girl. The dress had initially been purchased as an outfit for special chapel occasions, Christmas and Easter or whatever, but you knew that your regular jeans and wrinkled t-shirt wouldn’t be enough for your new shiny academy.

Once again, as you entered the cafeteria for breakfast, you felt all eyes on you. You scanned the room for an empty seat (you didn’t fail to spot Angus Tully, sitting at the cornermost table, not conversing with everyone else) and sighed when you saw an open chair right next to Teddy Kountze. He spotted you and waved, and you made your way over.

“Hey there,” Teddy said. “How was your first night?”

“Fine,” you shrugged noncommittally. “Kinda quiet, though.”

“Yeah, nobody else in the whole building,” Teddy sighed. “No roommates or anything; that must be nice.”

“Nah, not really,” you replied. “I got used to my mom and my sisters, and it was just too quiet. Not nearly enough chaos for me.”

“How many sisters do you have?” A boy across the table from you asked.

“Two,” you said. “Both older. And my mom lived with us too, so there was always something going on.”

“Shit, for sure,” the boy said. “Are you gonna join any clubs while you’re here? Or sports or something?”

You didn’t exactly love the way that the boy said that. “While you’re here”. Like you weren’t going to stay at Barton for very long. “I don’t know,” you shrugged. “I’ve never really been a sporty type. I might see if the yearbook needs help or something.”

“You could join chess club,” the boy laughed, and Teddy (and pretty much everyone else at the table) laughed too.

“Why? What’s so funny about chess club?” you asked.

“Nothing,” Teddy sighed as he finished laughing. “Except that Tully’s ugly mug is there.”

“Tully?” you repeated. “Angus?”

“Do you know him?” a different boy at the table asked.

“No, not at all,” you said quickly. “Just… Heard some stuff about him, that’s all. How he’s apparently a douche.”

“You’ll see,” Teddy assured you. “In class, try to challenge him on something. See how he reacts, and you’ll get why we all hate him.”

You wrinkled your nose at the thought, but decided to not let it bother you. You made your way to class, hanging close behind Teddy and not really listening to him as much as you were admiring the school building. It was so… Old. So was your old school, but Barton was beautifully old, whereas Central was just old. Dark, shiny wood everywhere, framed oil paintings of people; it was a feat. You finally separated from Teddy when you reached the classroom for Precalc, and you hesitantly stepped in. A handful of guys were there, sitting on their desks and chatting, and the room fell dead as you stepped inside. You hazarded a small smile, and quickly made your way to the back of the room, your preferred spot in any classroom, but you were stopped in your tracks.

Angus Tully. He sat in the back corner, close to the window, his tie loose and crooked around his neck. He was looking out the window, but his eyes slid over to you as you approached the desk beside him.

“Hi,” you said gently. “Can I… Um, can I sit here?”

Angus shrugged, as if he didn’t care, and you slung your bag across the back of the seat before you settled yourself down. You tapped your fingers on the desktop for a moment, wondering what the next course of action was, and you mumbled out, “I-I heard you were in chess club?”

“Yeah,” Angus grunted out. “What about it?”

“Oh, nothing,” you said, anxiously smoothing your skirt on your thigh. “Just, umm… I was wondering if there was, like… If you guys were open to new members.”

“Probably,” Angus said simply.

You nodded slowly, waiting for his next words, but they never came. “Right,” you said softly. “Okay.”

To your disappointment, Angus Tully and you shared every class together, except for your free period and Home Ec. His demeanor never changed a single bit throughout the day, sullen and curt. He didn’t speak during class, didn’t answer questions or even seem as if he was paying attention. It was odd. You were thinking about it as you settled into a desk in the back of the Ancient Civ classroom, and you yourself were hardly paying attention to the teacher, a one Mr. Hunham, until he called your name. “Miss?” he said, and you lifted your cheek out of your hand. “Would you like to introduce yourself?”

You blinked a few times, your face positively burning hot, and you cleared your throat. “I’m sure you all know my name by now,” you began. “Know that I went to a public school in Boston, got in here on a lottery and a scholarship… I guess there’s not much else to know about me.”

“Have you ever studied ancient civilizations before, Miss?” Mr. Hunham asked. He seemed well-meaning, if maybe a little sarcastic.

“No,” you told him.

“Any experience with Latin?” Mr. Hunham asked next.

You deflated. Shit. This was that sorta school? “No,” you said, a little quieter this time.

“Well, that’s alright,” Mr. Hunham said. “We’ll catch you up to speed. Now, gentlemen— Ah, and lady— let’s open our books to the first chapter.”

All during class, you felt hot tears pricking at your eyes. You were humiliated. All these words and names that everyone else seemed to know, and you had no fucking clue what any of it meant. It was all Greek to you— Latin, actually, but that didn't matter. As Mr. Hunham was mid-sentence about some sort of war, the bell to end the class sounded throughout the room, and you instantly closed your textbook and began to shove it into your bag. “Read the rest of the section tonight!” Mr. Hunham called over the sounds of your classmates packing up and chattering. “There will be a quiz on Friday!”

You shouldered your bag and tried to avoid eyes as you skated out of the room, but a voice saying your name held you back. You hoped your eyes weren’t red as you turned to see Angus standing limply in the hallway. He had stayed quiet during Mr. Hunham’s class too, sitting again in the back corner, and you had managed to forget about him as you wallowed in shame. “Yeah?” you asked.

Angus carefully walked closer to you, and he said, “The library has tutors sometimes. If you need help with Latin.”

“Oh,” you said softly. “Thanks. I just… Didn’t know people still spoke that.”

“Not really, it’s a dead language,” Angus said. “But it’s helpful sometimes in classes. A lot of Ivy League schools have Latin courses that are required.”

“Well, thank God I’m not going to an Ivy League school,” you chuckled mirthlessly. “I’ll be lucky if community college takes me.”

“You go to Barton, colleges will be fighting for you to go there,” Angus shrugged.

“But I’m not somebody,” you protested. “I’m not a senator’s kid, my dad isn’t a CEO, like… I just go here.”

“But the name is good enough for schools to want you,” Angus said. “They want the prestige, that’s all.”

You thought on it for a moment, and you mumbled, “Thanks, Angus. I’ll, um… See you tomorrow.”

The whole first week of classes progressed at a snail’s pace. Every day was torturous— all of your classes, except for Ancient Civ, were easy. Home Ec was a complete wash, since you already knew how to sew and cook, and Secretarial Studies was just as you had feared: teaching you to type, mostly, but nevertheless skills needed to do office work. You were a little offended; you were the only student in the class, which was helmed by the front office manager Ms. Crane. Obviously the boys didn’t have to take this class, so what was Barton trying to say?

Finally, it was Friday night. Your dorm building was quiet again, and, even though they had provided a rec room with a radio and a few bookshelves, there wasn’t too much for you to do. You curled a loose thread from your sweater around your finger as you considered your next move, and you sighed as you grabbed your keys and shuffled into your shoes.

You pushed your way into the boy’s dorm, and there was a palpable change in energy. The lights seemed brighter, the air thicker, sounds coming from all manner of places. Some doors were open, the residents standing and chatting, and you could distantly hear the sound of a television playing somewhere on the first floor. Much livelier, more lived in; you wished you could have been placed there instead. You followed the sound of the television down the hall, past the chatting boys, and you noticed how conversations paused as you passed by. You despised that.

The door to the rec room was wide open, and you peeked in nervously. The television was playing some rerun of Gilligan’s Island, and boys were scattered to all corners of the room. Some played pool, some sat on the couches, some stood by the open window and smoked, but everything seemed to stop as you crossed the threshold. You made your way to an empty section of the couch and sat down, grinding your teeth as boys young and old watched you. You sighed, and you said, “What’s going on?”

The boy next to you, some kid that you knew was in your Bio class but didn’t know his name, frowned. “Huh?” he asked.

You jerked your head towards the television. “The show,” you said. “What’s happening?”

“Oh,” the boy said, and everyone resumed their conversations. “Umm, don’t you have a TV in your dorm?”

“Just a radio,” you said with a shake of your head. “What episode is this?”

The boy shrugged. “Wasn’t really paying attention,” he said.

You bunched your mouth up and sighed again, and you stood up. You could sense the disappointment as you left the rec room, but you couldn’t stand being in there any longer. You knew that being ogled at came with the territory of being the only girl at a boys’ school, but you couldn’t imagine it would have been anything like this. You slipped your hand into the pocket of your jeans and found a few errant coins in there, leftover from some excursion from God knows how long ago, and you started up to the second floor. In your building, there was a bank of phones on the second floor, and it made sense to you that this building would be the same.

Luckily, you were right. There was just as much business on the second floor as on the first, but the little phone bank was a calm corner. You sighed and examined the phone for a moment, trying to find the slot to put your dime, and you frowned. What the fuck?

“Just dial nine, and then the number you wanna call.”

You jumped in fright. “Jesus Christ!” you seethed, whipping around to see Angus. He sat in a shadow of the phone bank, a book in one hand and a half-eaten apple in the other. He looked a little more casual than he did in class, his tie gone and shirt unbuttoned one or two to show the top of his undershirt. Still looked a little Grim Reaper in the face, though. “You scared the shit outta me.”

Angus huffed a short laugh through his nose. “Thought you saw me,” he said.

“I did not,” you mumbled. “Where’s the coin slot?”

“These aren’t payphones,” Angus told you. “Just dial nine for a non-school number, then dial away.”

You drew in a deep breath and shoved your dime back in your pocket, and you picked up the phone and started to rotate the dial, starting with nine, then going for your family’s apartment number. You felt Angus’s gaze seering on your back, and you cradled the phone to your shoulder as it rang. “Do you mind?” you asked.

“Do I mind what?” Angus asked.

“Scram, man,” you sighed. “I’m trying to call my mom, and I don’t want you listening to it.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have come to a public phone if you wanted a private conversation,” Angus said, and you tilted your head at him in annoyance. “Doesn’t Blackwell have a phone bank?”

“Yeah,” you said. “But I didn’t wanna use it.”

“So you came here instead,” Angus said. “I think you like the attention.”

You swallowed thickly, anger tepid but starting to rise. “You don’t know me at all,” you bit at him.

“Why’d you come to this building to make your call if you knew that every guy would stop to stare at your ass?” Angus asked. “You knew that. You’ve been here a week, you know by now that you attract attention. I think you like it, but you can’t admit it because you have that whole quiet mystery girl thing going on.”

“Fuck off, Tully,” you mumbled. “I’m not here to be some goddamn puzzle for you to solve. And I’m not gonna fuck you if you figure out my backstory, so just go away.”

“Who said anything about fucking?” Angus asked smugly.

You glared at him and that stupid crooked smirk on his face. “Stop staring at my ass first and we might get somewhere,” you told him lowly, just in time for the call to pick up.

“Hello?” your mother said, and you sighed in relief.

“Mom, thank God,” you laughed lightly. “You took so long to answer, I was worried nobody was there.”

“Oh, no, pumpkin, I’m here,” your mom told you. “I was just in the shower.”

“Is Rachel not home?” you asked. “Or Anna?”

“Rach is at work,” your mom told you. “She picked up extra hours at Neiman Marcus. She thinks they might promote her to manager at the end of the year.”

“Oh, wow,” you mumbled. “Good for her. And Anna?”

“Started taking night classes,” your mom said. “She started on Monday too.”

“Cool,” you chuckled. “What’re you doing tonight? I think ABC is showing some sort of movie—”

“I’m going on a date,” your mom said, and your mouth went dry.

“What do you mean?” you asked. “Like… With a guy?”

“Yes,” your mom said carefully. “He’s nice, I met him at work. He’s taking me to a movie and dinner.”

“That’s…” you started. “Cool, Mom. Good for you.”

“What about you?” your mom asked. “Surrounded by all those boys, there has to be someone who’s caught your eye.”

You sighed. Your lip trembled, and you closed your eyes. You were acutely aware that Angus was still sat behind you, and the fact that you hadn’t heard his book turn in a few minutes meant that he was absolutely listening to your phone call, the little shit. “No, not really,” you said. “Everyone here is either too rich, too smart, or too… Asshole-ish. Some are even all three.” You made a point to turn your head towards Angus, and you heard his little huffing laugh before you turned back to the phone.

“Oh, well,” your mom said. “Maybe you’ll find someone. How are classes?”

“Fine, I guess,” you said. “I’m taking a class about ancient civilizations, and apparently I missed the class where they teach Latin, so I’m sorta lost. And Home Ec sucks because I already know how to do all that. And they’re making me take something about how to be a secretary, and that’s so infuriatingly sexist that it makes me angry.”

“It’s a bunch of men, in charge of a bunch of boys,” your mom sighed. “They’re trying their best to adapt to you.”

“I can’t even take gym class because they don’t have a place for me to change clothes,” you lamented. “Not that I wanna take gym anyway, but you see why I’m upset!”

“I know, pumpkin, it’s okay,” your mom said.

“Why would they go coed if they can’t even integrate girls in properly?” you sighed. “I wish I had just stayed home and gone to Central. Would’ve saved me a lot of trouble.”

“You’ll be alright, you’re still just adjusting,” your mom assured you. “But… If, by Christmas, you still don’t feel like you belong there, I’ll pull you out and you can go back to Central. But I have to know by Thanksgiving, so I can start the paperwork in time for spring semester”

“Sure,” you said. “That sounds good to me.”

“Alright, baby,” your mom said. “Richard will be here any minute, and I have to finish getting ready. I’ll be at work until 4 tomorrow, but call any time after, okay? I love you so much.”

“Love you too,” you mumbled, and you held the plastic phone by your face as you listened to your mother hang up and the dial tone drone. After a moment, you hung the phone back up on the hook, and you readied yourself for Angus’s petty insults as you turned to leave the phone bank. But they never came. You eyed him, sitting there on the wooden bench, his dark eyes focused on yours, and you snapped, “What?”

“Nothing,” Angus said lightly, sliding back into the darkened corner and picking up his book. “Nothing at all.”

That was your weekly exercise. Week in and week out, all you did was classes. You wanted to avoid as many interactions with the others as possible, so you stayed quiet during class, kept to yourself, didn’t accept invites to parties or football games or to sit at lunch tables. You took to having lunch with Ms. Crane in the front office, and she seemed to commiserate with you about all the boys. “Some of these kids are real stinkers,” she told you. “But they’re teenage boys. I think it’s a law that they have to be.”

Your saving grace was the deal you had made with your mom. If you could just wait until Christmas break, you could go back to your old school, to your old friends, and you could forget about the hell that was Barton. You kept your grades up, so that Central could see that you hadn’t turned into some kind of slacker, and you consistently got B’s and A’s in your classes. Except for Ancient Civ.

The exam booklet slapped down on your desk, a red F blazoned across the front. You sighed and started to thumb through it, trying to figure out where you went wrong as the other boys also realized their grades were low, and your heart sank when you saw all of the multiple choice questions without a flaw. So it was your essay question that led you astray. On the very last page of the booklet, you found your essay, handwritten yesterday on something about ancient philosophers, and a red note in Mr. Hunham’s handwriting. See me after class.

You could hardly pay attention to the conversation between Teddy and Mr. Hunham. Your mind was racing, wondering what he wanted to talk to you about. You should have gotten a perfect score, but something held that back. Surely he didn’t think you had cheated? Or copied someone else’s work? You thought that you and Mr. Hunham got along (as well as any student can get along with their strict, hardass teacher) and your heart sank at the thought that you had definitely somehow disappointed him.

“... Offer a makeup exam” got your head out of the clouds, and you focused on Mr. Hunham at his podium. “You’ll all get a second run at this after break.” The class muttered and mumbled, only to be cut through by Mr. Hunham’s next words: “Of course, it will not be the same exam. You will now be responsible for new material as well. Your grade will be an average of the two.”

As Mr. Hunham instructed the class to open their books to a new chapter, you were shocked, along with everyone else, when Angus spoke. “No offense, sir,” he began, and you sucked in a breath. You had learned that, whenever any of the boys at Barton didn’t intend offense, that offense was certainly on its way. “But is this really the best time to be starting a new chapter? I mean, we all appreciate the, uh, makeup exam gesture… But our families are here.”

You rolled your eyes. Speak for yourself, Tully. Your mom had to work that day, as did both of your sisters, and you gotten instruction to take a Greyhound into Boston and someone would meet you at the bus station to bring you home. It wasn’t exactly the best plan, but it was what worked. Your mom had arranged with Barton to let you back on campus during break to empty your dorm room, and you sighed a thing of relief. Almost done. You were so close to leaving Barton in your dust and washing your hands of the entire school.

“Most teachers have already canceled class,” Angus continued. “We have chapel in forty minutes, then we’re out of here. I mean, our heads are elsewhere.”

“And where exactly is your head, Mr. Tully?” Mr. Hunham asked, and Angus shrugged.

“Uh, I don’t know. St. Kitts.”

Jesus. Of course Angus Tully was going to fuckin’ St. Kitts for Christmas. You would be lucky if your family could afford to have the heat turned on for Christmas.

Your annoyance turned to dire anger when Mr. Hunham decided to scrap the idea of a makeup exam and dismissed the class without another word. You hurried to shove your exam booklet in your bag, and you glared at Angus as you edged out of your row. “Thanks a lot, dick,” you mumbled, then left the room, not even waiting to see Angus’s response. Your heart raced as you tailed Mr. Hunham, and you finally called his name as he approached the door to his private office.

“Ah, Miss,” Mr. Hunham chuckled. “Yes, yes, let’s sit down and discuss your exam.”

“I-I didn’t do anything wrong,” you said hurriedly as he unlocked the office door. “I didn’t cheat or plagiarize, you didn’t even mark off any points. I don’t understand why I failed.”

Mr. Hunham said nothing as he led you into his office, and you wrinkled your nose. God, it smelled bad in there. Nevertheless, you sat down in one of the chairs across from his desk, and you waited with bated breath as he sat down in his seat. He examined you for a moment, for long enough for you to start to feel weird under his walleyed gaze, and, finally, he said, “In actuality, Miss, you didn’t fail. You got the highest score in the class.”

“B-But I got an F…” you protested. “Angus Tully got a B!”

“I wrote an F on your paper, but you actually got a 98,” Mr. Hunham told you. “Near-perfect score, I only took off in your essay question for misspelling ‘Periclean’.”

“Oh,” you mumbled. “Then, why’d you write an F on my paper?”

“Because I was disappointed in you,” Mr. Hunham said. You felt sick. Your skin was hot and your stomach roiled, and hot tears pricked at your eyes. “I heard from Ms. Crane that you were leaving Barton.”

You nodded silently.

“And why is that?” Mr. Hunham asked.

You sighed. “I miss my old school,” you admitted with a thick throat. “My old friends. Nobody likes me here, and I… Just think I’d be better off back home. I’m not a Barton person.”

“What is a Barton person to you, Miss?” Mr. Hunham asked. His hands were clasped at his chin, his bifocals in his fist. He seemed genuinely concerned about you.

“Someone not me,” you said. “Rich… Smart… Important. All those guys are gonna go to good colleges, and I’m gonna be stuck waiting tables my whole life.”

“You are smart, Miss,” Mr. Hunham told you. “You passed all your classes with flying colors, you made Latin look like a piece of cake. If you wanted to, you could go to any college in the country. Or the world!”

“I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for that stupid lottery,” you mumbled. “I don’t belong here, sir, we both know that.”

Mr. Hunham fixed his mouth in a thin line and sighed, and he said, “Of course. Well, I do hate to see you go. Your essay on the siege of Troy was… Very good.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled. “Umm, have a nice Christmas, I guess… See you around.”

Chapel that day felt exactly the opposite to your first chapel at Barton. The dread that had filled the air at the beginning of the semester had now changed to an excitement about going back home, and, even though you still felt like everybody was staring at you, you couldn’t shake the feeling. You were done. You had made it. After you moved during break, you’d never have to lay an eye on Barton or any of those boys ever again. You had to admit that you were going to miss Ms. Crane, and maybe even Mr. Hunham too, but the positives far outweighed the negatives.

After chapel let out, you hurried back to Blackwell Hall and grabbed your suitcase and changed out of your nice dress, and you made your way to the front of campus, where a Greyhound bus sat, waiting to take kids into the city. You stepped on board, taking a seat towards the back of the bus, and you looked out the window at one last gaze at Barton Academy. Although, you couldn’t admire the architecture or the pretty way the snow glistened in the midday sun. No, you could only see the tall, lanky, dark-haired kid standing on the steps of the chapel, waiting for someone.

Even though you despised Angus Tully and didn’t really care if he lived or died, it was a sad sight to see him waiting like that. He looked so dismayed and forlorn, his suitcase at his feet, his hands in the pockets of his winter jacket. Maybe in another world, you and Angus could have been friends. Your mind wandered, thinking of meeting Angus somewhere else— your mind conjured the image of a bookstore, reaching for the same book and having a little back and forth on who should have it, before Angus acquiesced, but not before writing his phone number in the book.

The rumble of the bus nearly lulled you asleep on the two and a half hour drive to Boston, and you roused yourself as the bus pulled into the station. Gathering your things, you departed, along with a handful of other Barton boys. They quickly found their families that were waiting on them, and you wandered through the station. Your mother hadn’t indicated who would be picking you up, or where in the station to meet them, and you made your way to a payphone. You were sure she was at work, but you wondered if you could call the restaurant and ask for her. Before you could put your dime in the phone, though, you heard your name being called, and you looked to see an older man smiling at you from across the room.

Fear flashed hot in your face, but you kept your composure as the man approached you. “Hey, you look just like how your mom described you,” he laughed. “I’m Rich.”

“Who?” you asked.

“Rich,” he repeated. “I’ve been seeing your mother for a few months. She’s working the afternoon shift, and your sisters are both busy, so your mom asked me to get you.”

“Oh,” you nodded. “Right, yeah. It’s nice to meet you.”

“You seem tired,” Rich told you. “Long day?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” you chuckled. “I’m just glad to be done with Barton, that place can go to hell.”

“I thought Barton was a boys’ school,” Rich mumbled.

“It’s a long story,” you sighed. “But whatever, that’s in my rearview now.”

“Alright,” Rich said. He seemed confused, but he took up your suitcase for you. “We already put fresh sheets on the pullout, so when we get back, you can take a nap if you want—”

“The pullout?” you repeated. “Am I not sleeping in my room?”

Rich winced. “Ah, well,” he began. “You see, my daughter is sleeping there, and—”

“Your—” you started. “Why is she in my room?”

“The bed was vacant,” Rich shrugged. “She’s lived there for a few months now.”

“And why is your daughter living with my mom?” you asked. “Do you… Did you move in?”

“Well, when your mother and I got married, we figured it was the logical thing to do.”

Your heart nearly stopped. Married. Your mother had gotten married, and hadn’t told you a single thing about it. No wedding invite, no pictures, not even a ‘hey, Rich and I are getting hitched!’ You felt sick and lightheaded, and you tried to take a steadying breath. It just sounded all shaky and unsure, though, and it made you feel even worse. “I, uh…” you began. “I…”

“What’s wrong, pumpkin?” Rich asked, and the camel’s back broke. Nobody can call you that but your mom.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” you asked. “Rolling in here, doing all this bullshit, and for what? Are you trying to prove something? Win an award or what? Let’s see how quickly we can marry the single mom, that’ll go down great with her three adult children!”

“Rachel and Anna said they were okay with it,” Rich said.

“But you didn’t ask me!” you cried. “God, this is exactly what she wanted, huh, throw me in a boarding school and forget all about me? Fuck this, I don’t need this.” You snatched your bag from Rich and turned on your heel quickly, and you didn’t even hesitate when Rich called “Where are you going?”

“Anywhere but here!”

You begged and pleaded with the Greyhound driver to take you back to Barton. He said that he had to stick to a schedule and was really sorry, but he changed his tune when you dug into your bag and grabbed your pocketbook, pulling out a few 20s. You didn’t have a lot of money in the first place, and watching those bills go in his pocket hurt, but, in the end, you got back to Barton just as the sun was starting to set. You knew that whoever was staying over break would be shocked to see you (maybe even elated, depending on who it was), but you didn‘t care about reactions. You just didn’t want to think at that moment.

You followed the low din of boyish muttering to the cafeteria, and you steeled your nerves for entering. You could discern only two voices, maybe a third if you listened through the thick door hard enough, and you quickly pushed on the metal handle in the middle of the door to slam the door open.

Heads whipped towards you. You didn’t recognize a lot of them— some younger kids, and a guy that was on the football team and was a senior— and your heart sank into your stomach when you saw Teddy Kountze sitting at the dinner table. So you would be spending Christmas break with Teddy. Great.

But the bad feeling got worse when you saw who was sitting one seat down from Teddy. Angus fucking Tully. He stared at you with no joy or humor in his eyes, and you huffed out a breath.

“Miss?” Your gaze went to the head of the table, and a little bit of relief washed over you as you saw the face of Mr. Hunham. Was he supervising the holdovers? “What’re you…?”

“Got room for one more?” you mumbled, approaching the table and securing the seat between Teddy and Angus. You instantly reached for the serving dishes, wanting anything to occupy your shaking hands, and you slowed to a stop as you noticed the whole table staring at you; even Angus wasn’t trying to hide it, his black eyes as big as dinner plates. “What?” you barked, and the energy resumed at the table in a snap.

Dinner was finished soon after, and Mr. Hunham pulled you into the hall as the boys were cleaning up. “I thought you were going home to Boston for the holiday?” he asked gently.

“I can’t…” you started. “It seems like I don’t even have a place in my own family.”

“What do you mean?” Mr. Hunham asked.

“My mom got married without telling me,” you told him. “And the guy and his daughter moved into our apartment, which could barely fit me and my mom and sisters in the first place, and now they’re there, a-and she’s in my room! That fucking bitch is in my room, and I-I—”

“Easy, easy,” Mr. Hunham said, putting his hand out to placate you. “Calm down. Listen, I understand that this is hard, it’s awful, but resorting to that is not what’s going to help you. We’ll find a place here for you tonight, and tomorrow we can call your mother and try to get this straightened out.”

“Can I not go to my dorm?” you asked.

“The school shut off heating and plumbing everywhere except the main building,” Mr. Hunham explained. “We’re sleeping in the infirmary.”

“Jesus Christ,” you huffed. You were so angry that you could kick something. “So now I gotta bunk up with them?”

“It’s definitely not ideal,” Mr. Hunham mumbled. “But it’s just for one night. We can put up a partition, if that would make you more comfortable.”

“Fuck it, whatever,” you sighed. Your eyes hurt, and a headache was starting to throb at your skull, and you said, “I don’t care.”

The boys were split into two rooms, the youngers (and Angus) in one, and Teddy and Jason in the other. The only other empty bed was in Teddy and Jason’s room, and you were quick to settle in and start off for the bathroom. Just as you were leaving, though, a beanpole in a white shirt and flannel pajama pants stopped you in the doorway.

“Hey,” Angus said curtly. “Where’re you going?”

“Shower,” you told him. “Brush my teeth, stuff like that.”

“Why did you come back?” Angus asked. “A little birdy told me that you were quitting Barton.”

“I…” you started. You wanted to tell him everything, but you were worried about the leverage he’d have if he knew. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

“Nah, I think it is,” Angus said with narrowed eyes. “We know why everybody is holding over. His parents are on a mission trip, his family is in Korea, Kountze The Cunt’s having his house remodeled, and Jason’s dad is waiting for him to cut his hair. Why’re you here?”

“Why’re you here, Angus?” you asked. “I thought you were going to St. Barts or St. Kitts or something.”

“Obviously not,” Angus said quickly.

“Then, I’m obviously not quitting Barton,” you said, and instantly regretted it. “I might be… Haven’t decided yet.”

“What, don’t you like it here?” Angus asked. “Isn’t it a glorious beacon of education and brotherhood—” He stopped himself, dramatically clenching his fist in front of his face. “Oh, that’s right. Brotherhood.”

“Shut up,” you huffed.

“C’mon, man, leave her alone,” you heard Jason start from the room behind you, but Angus either didn’t hear or didn’t care.

“You left, and then came back,” Angus said. “What’s wrong? Mommy decided she didn’t want you anymore?”

You couldn’t help yourself from letting your tears spill over your lashes, and you clenched your teeth. Angus held your eye contact for longer than you thought he would, and he only averted his eyes when your tears gathered at the corner of your mouth. You drew in a shaking breath, aware that everybody was staring at you, watching you cry, and you sniffled and left the room without another word. The showers were empty, and you jerked the handle to start the water, then locked the door to the room.

Your tears flowed freely then, and you sat on the tile floor and sobbed into your hands. You hoped that Angus could hear you crying from down the hall, and you hoped that he felt bad about his words. Knowing him, though, he had forgotten about you as soon as you left his eyeline.

By the time you finished your crying and your shower, the lights were off in both the rooms, a soft snoring coming from Teddy and Jason’s (and your) room. Your pajamas didn’t feel like they were enough for the cold in the infirmary, and you edged by the snoring Teddy in his bed to get to yours. The sheets were crinkly and dry and rough, and you bundled the wool blanket up to your chin as you tried to sleep.

That was destroyed, though, when you heard a “Psst!” come from the doorway.

You sighed. “Fuck off, Angus,” you mumbled sleepily.

“Just— Can I—?” Angus huffed. “I’m trying to apologize to you.”

“I don’t want your fuckin’ apology,” you said. “Just leave me alone.”

“I shouldn’t have said that to you,” Angus whispered. “I was… Out of line. Or projecting or something, I don’t know. My mom and stepdad went to St. Kitts, but uninvited me so they could celebrate their honeymoon. I guess I’m just familiar with how it feels to not be wanted.”

You sighed and rolled over to face the doorway, and you settled yourself up on your elbows. “Can you just…” you started. “Think before you speak? I know it doesn’t really seem to matter to you, but sometimes, words hurt. Like, really hurt.”

“I know,” Angus mumbled. “I’m sorry.”

“You really have to work on not being a huge asshole,” you told him. “You know, nobody here likes you. They all call you names and shit.”

“I know,” Angus said. “I don’t care. But you’ve gotta try to not be so judgmental. I think you write off everyone here because we’re from different tax brackets. Some of us don’t have it easy.”

You pressed your lips together. “Fair enough,” you said finally. “I’ll, um… Keep that in mind.”

“Alright,” Angus said. “Good night, then.”

“‘Night,” you said, and you watched Angus stalk out of the doorway and back to his room. You sat for a few moments more, thinking about how easily Angus had read your thoughts, and you wondered if the other boys could see right through you as easily. You were almost humiliated all over again at the thought that everyone could read you like that, but it didn’t matter. When the morning came, you’d call your mother and work out whatever the problem was, and you would be home in Boston by the next night.

It didn’t work out that way. You called your mother twice in the morning; the first time, she didn’t pick up the phone, and the second, she would hardly talk to you. “Mom, I just wanna know what happened,” you pleaded. “Why didn’t you tell me? I-I would’ve been supportive!”

“Would you?” your mother asked.

“Yes!” you sighed. “I wouldn’t have been happy, but I would’ve accepted it if you were happy!”

“Then, why can’t you accept it now?” she asked.

“Because you didn’t tell me!” you replied. “You didn’t ask me how I felt about it, if I wanted it to happen, if I even like the guy— I hadn’t even met him once before you did it!” You paused, chewing your lip, and you said, “Mom. Tell me the truth. Are you pregnant?”

“No, pumpkin, I’m not,” she sighed, but you could tell she was nearing her wit’s end.

“Is that why you hurried to marry him?” you asked. “I-I’m telling you, I don’t care that you got married, I’m just upset because you didn’t tell me!”

“Okay, stop,” your mom said firmly. “I thought you’d be happy for me, baby.”

Anger flared in your stomach. “Dad hasn’t even been gone for a full year yet,” you mumbled. “And you’re already replacing him.”

“We all mourn differently, pumpkin,” she said. “I’m sorry that you can’t see that Rich makes me happy. I... I don’t feel lonely with him.”

“Well,” you sighed. “If this is how you mourn Dad, I don’t think I wanna come home. I think I’ll stay at Barton.”

“Where are you gonna go after the holiday ends?” your mom asked.

“Staying here,” you said plainly. “I can personally go up to Central and withdraw my paperwork over break. If you want to erase me and my father from your life so bad, then you’ve got your fuckin’ wish.” You slammed the phone back on the receiver with shaking hands, and you turned to leave the front office, only to run straight into—

“Fuck off, Angus,” you sniffled, side-stepping him and starting down the hall, back to the infirmary.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Angus said quickly, snatching your wrist in his hand and tugging you back. “What happened? Are you going home?”

“No,” you sighed. “I’m staying here. I never wanna see any of them again.”

“You said something about your dad…” Angus mumbled. “Is that true? Your dad’s dead?”

You wiped at your eyes, and your chest went hot. “I don’t wanna talk about it,” you mumbled.

Angus sighed, and, for once, he did something nice for you. He pulled you into an embrace, not too tight but not so loose that it felt like he didn’t care, and you pressed your cheek into his shoulder. “My dad’s dead too,” Angus whispered. “You don’t have to talk about it, but… I sorta get it.”

You sniffled again, and you finally let your arms wrap around Angus’s thin body. You sat in silence for a moment, hugging each other, and you only parted when you heard a small scuttle from down the hall, near the infirmary door. Your head turned to see the youngest kid, Alex, standing, watching you two, and you stepped away from Angus and wiped your face. “Guess I’m staying,” you mumbled.

“Guess so,” Angus echoed.

The days were monotonous. Hunham would wake you up when the sun rose with a declaration of “It’s daylight in the swamp!”, and you would go through the routine of studying, then exercise, then more studying, then a little bit of free time. In the absence of gym class for months, the exercising was a little difficult, and you were left exhausted and panting every time, and you felt awkward with the guys around. However, after that brief moment with Angus, he had started to be… Better. He was still a dick most times, but he would do little things for you now; pass you the lunch dishes instead of sliding them in your direction, offer to sharpen your pencil during study time. It seemed that finding a similarity had broken his shell for you a bit, and you appreciated it.

You had taken to helping the cook with meals. Mary Lamb was a good woman that you had minimally interacted with (she had come and given a lesson in Home Ec about cooking, which really nobody paid attention to, but you had made a point to), and you felt a special kinship with her because of her Curtis. She was the only one you told the truth about your father to, and you knew that Mary wouldn’t say anything to the others about it. She seemed as if she appreciated the help in the kitchen, especially from someone who was competent there like you were. You liked talking to Mary, hearing her stories and letting her hear yours.

Just as you were starting to think that maybe break wouldn’t be all that terrible, less than a week into it, things changed. You shivered in the cold library, despite your sweater, and you tried to focus on the textbook in front of you, but it was nearly impossible. Angus was sitting next to you, and, every so often, his hand would inch out and he would doodle a little figure in the corner of your notebook. You rolled your eyes jokingly at him, trying not to laugh so Hunham wouldn’t fuss at you, and you shifted in your seat a bit to reach Angus’s notebook. You began to crudely sketch him, big dark eyes and messy hair, and he stifled a snort. Mean, he wrote underneath your sketch.

Accurate, you countered.

Before either of you could write anything else, there came an odd sound from outside. It was quiet at first, but it grew louder and louder, and you looked upwards, as if the ceiling of the library would allow for any sort of view of what the noise was. It was a loud chopping noise, growing ever louder and louder, drawing the attention of all of you, and even Hunham closed his book and said “What the hell is that?”

But, from across the table, a smile grew on Jason’s face, a knowing grin, and, all at once, everybody stood from their seats and went to the window. You couldn’t see as well as the others, being shorter than everyone else, but Angus put a gentle hand on your side and pushed you in front of him, letting you get closer to the window. His hand, positioned just above your hip on your torso, made a shiver run down your spine, but you attributed it to the sight of a goddamn helicopter buzzing overhead, lowering itself onto the snowy, abandoned football field. “I knew it!” Jason exclaimed. “He finally caved, the big softie!”

“What the fuck is that?” you asked quickly.

“Jason’s dad owns a helicopter,” Angus explained under his breath as Jason pushed away from the window with excitement.

“Any of you guys like to ski?” Jason called as he left the library, and the younger boys gasped with excitement. You all caught onto the idea at the same time, and the boys filed out, following Jason, but you stayed still at the window, watching the helicopter’s blades slow to a stop.

“Miss?” Hunham asked, and you closed your eyes. “Aren’t you going with them?”

You shrugged, hoping to seem less hurt than you actually were. “I can’t,” you said. “I don’t have any skiing gear or whatever, I’ve never even done it before… And anyway, I’m not about to call my mom to ask for permission to do that.”

You sat in the hallway outside the office as Hunham called all of the boys’ parents, being granted permission for the excursion, listening as each boy reacted with glee. It felt like a sick joke; of course you were left all alone again. Before you could ruminate on it for too long, the beanpole came and sat himself next to you, quiet as he scratched absently at his chin.

“Want me to get you anything from up there?” Angus asked. “Fridge magnet or postcard or…?”

You shook your head. “No,” you managed with a heavy, thick throat. “Thanks, though.”

Angus sighed, his eyebrows furrowing together as his jaw tightened, and he tilted his head towards you. His dark eyes looked soft, kinder than you had ever seen from him or thought was capable, and he said, “Sorry.”

You couldn’t help yourself. Your tears spilled and you clawed your fingernails into your palm, trying to stop from sobbing and heaving, and Angus moved closer to you, until his hip touched yours. He slung a skinny arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his body, his hand gently pressing into your head and ushering you to hide in his neck. He shushed you, whispering “If Hunham sees you crying, he’ll think I did it”, which did nothing other than make you laugh a little and sniffle hard.

You quickly parted from Angus’s warmth, wiping your eyes with your hand and seeing your mascara smear on the back of your hand. “Gonna go to the bathroom…” you mumbled, and Angus nodded, keeping his seat as you stood up and hurried down the hall. The women’s bathroom next to the office was hardly used, only ever you, Ms. Crane, and the lone visitor using it, and you clutched the porcelain sink as you gasped for breath. Jesus Christ. Would anything ever go your way? Being stuck at Barton over the holidays with the other boys sucked, sure, but now you were all alone with Hunham and Mary. Alone again. You wondered if you’d always be alone.

You ripped off a paper towel and dabbed at your eyes, trying to fix your makeup, and you pressed cold water to your face to try to calm yourself down. Fuck everything about this. It was unfair. Maybe Hunham would take it easy on you, loosen the reins a little. You trashed the paper towels and adjusted your sweater, trying to seem put-together, and you stepped out of the bathroom to see Hunham and Angus standing outside the office, embroiled in an intense conversation. “... Just one more time, please,” you heard Angus say, and Hunham put his hand up.

“There’s no point,” Hunham said. “The front desk says they’re not answering. He says they’re away on some excursion.”

You started closer, and you watched Angus’s face fall, his eyes narrowing. He mumbled something under his breath, and Hunham harrumphed. “I’m as disappointed as you are, if not more so,” he said. “I could’ve been spending the rest of my vacation reading mystery novels.”

“Angus?” you said, and he slid his eyes over to you. “Are you… What’s happening?”

Angus shot Hunham a deathly look, and he side-stepped your teacher, brushing past you, his arm knocking your shoulder. You locked eyes with Hunham, then quickly turned and started off after Angus. His long legs had carried him down the hall quicker than you were capable of, and you sped up a bit. “Angus!” you called for him, and you finally came up on him at the door to the infirmary, taking his arm in your hand. “What’s going on?”

“I’m staying here,” he said bitingly. “Mom and Stanley aren’t answering their phone.”

On some level, you were glad Angus was staying. At least it wouldn’t be just you there. And you were glad it was Angus, as opposed to Teddy or someone else. “Oh,” you managed. “Well, umm…”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Angus said flatly. He leaned up against the doorway to the infirmary, listening to the other boys packing up, and he added, “In fact, I’d rather you didn’t say anything.”

You sighed, flicking your eyebrows. “Got it,” you mumbled. Your eyes lifted from the floor to see Ye-Joon, bag in hand, and he softly bid Angus a happy holidays, giving you a curt smile as he edged out of the infirmary. Jason lightly touched Angus’s arm as he told him to take care, doing the same to you before he departed, and you made eye contact with Teddy as he shouldered his bag. He didn’t have his sights set on you, though; he spoke to Angus.

“I guess that just leaves you and the chick, huh?” Teddy asked. “Be sure to do all your homework— and no funny stuff while we’re gone.”

If you could have swung a punch at Teddy, you would have. All the boys at Barton were the exact fucking same— Secretarial Studies, sex jokes, it was never-ending and never-changing. You watched Angus’s neck go flushed, and Teddy added, “Oh, almost forgot! I found that picture you were looking for.” Quickly, he stuck a square Polaroid in Angus’s shirt pocket, and a smile crossed Teddy’s face. “Merry Christmas, Mr. Tully. You too, Miss. See you after break.” He winked at you, making your skin crawl, and he departed the room with a chuckle as Angus snatched the picture from his pocket. From your vantage point, you couldn’t see what it was, only the back that read HAPPY HOLIDAYS, but Angus’s mouth screwed up at it, and he flicked it down onto the ground. Your eyes followed it, and you saw a portrait of a family, a mom and dad and a boy, and you recognized the dark eyes and sunken features of the boy. But, in a blank space of the picture, in Teddy’s handwriting, an arrow pointed to the boy and declared “Fuckwad”.

The cold was biting, even through your coat, as you stood on the football field and watched the boys load into the Smith’s helicopter. Your hands were deep in your pockets as you stared into space, wondering if it could get any worse. As the helicopter took off, the wind blew your hair back, and you watched as it rose, up, up, and away. A heavy energy fell over you three, and your teacher let out a heavy sigh. “Well, let’s make the best of it,” Hunham said, flat but trying to put fake life into his words. The look in Angus’s eyes was harsh enough to kill, and Hunham averted his gaze from him over to you, his two little wards, the holdovers. “Shall we?”

#angus tully #angus tully x reader #dominic sessa #dominic sessa x reader #the holdovers

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andy-wm · 4 months ago

Text

Back to WHO : the MV

This is a continuation of the earlier post that discusses the song WHO, by Jimin. That post was a first impression focused on the lyrics - while this one looks more closely at the MV.

(Remember this is my interpretation, not an official statement by Hybe)

The more times I watched the music video, the more I wanted to yell, because look...

IT'S REALLY STARING US IN THE FACE.

And again, kudos to Jimin's team because it's the most obvious thing in the world ever but only if you ALREADY KNOW what's going on.

Here's a summary:

The music video loosely represents Jimin's attraction/sexuality/love life as a timeline.

New colours - a new spectrum shall we say - filter into his life even though he's trying so hard to 'keep to the program'.

He searches high and low for a girl to love, but alas, nobody makes the fireworks happen for him. Then Billboard Boy crashes into his life, threatening to destroy everything. Jimin has to weather the storm and figure out where his place is because Billboard Boy is a major disruptor - a tornado in fact. In the end, the fireworks are popping and the chaos is happening, and Jimin has to just go with it and finds his place again. His colours have been getting brighter and louder as he goes along and in the end he's prepared to walk away from everything in order to be the spectrum he is.

<<I'm not saying it's literally a count of how many girls or boys or enbys he's kissed. I hope his kissed all of them and then some, frankly, but that's none of my business.>>

A few things to pay special attention to:

Burning cars > cars = masculinity. fire = hot. 1+1=2.

Dancers > people he's interacting with

Rough weather, as represented by the wind-whipped papers and eventually even cars being tossed about the set > His attraction to men (and dare I say it, culminating in a focus on one man in particular)

Colour flares, machine text, and marks on the tape (horizontal lines etc)

Are you ready? Let's go...

Jimin enters the scene looking like sex on legs (no surprises) and strolls casually onto the road. Immediately our view of hm is blocked by a pop-art style poster blowing across the screen. It's immediately followed by a car coming around the corner onto the road. The car is on fire. Jimin watches it pass by and follows it.

He follows the burning car.... and so it begins.

The narrative starts from before BTS even exists. Jimin encounters several female dancers who he has brief and sexy interludes with. In fact i don't think there's a single woman in this MV who he doesn't at least look at. He really does try everything (and everyone) in his efforts to find HER.

BUT WAIT.... rewind...

Let's go back to the poster... it depicts a street scene much like the one we see here, with the words:

WHO IS!! TORNADO OF LOVE

Note: those are exclamation points not question marks.

It's not a question. This is telling us UP FRONT IN BIG LETTERS that 'WHO' is tornado of love.

I could probably stop here and just say 'ok go watch it again' but it's too much fun to go through all the details.

So let's continue...

Jimin has a little more steamy choreo with the female dancers before the lyrics tell us he has so many people to see and places to go, and he leaves them and joins 6 other men in what looks like a work environment....

Hello we are BTS!

Yes you guessed it... like Yoongi did in Haegum, Jimin has his members represented here. (Fan chant going off in my head...) and more delicious choreography follows.

Notice that while Jimin was dancing with the girls, the only signs of rough weather were a few glittery specs floating through the air, barely noticable. Those bits of glitter multiply when he joins the 6 men, and instead of a sprinkling of glitter, it starts looking like a light snowfall.

That's all about to change....

The first moment of reckonning:

At the end of this section of choreo, as Jimin sings 'who is my heart waiting for' and moves into the next phase we have a barely visible flash of light across the screen and rainbow colours bleed into the footage (at 1.14).

This is also the moment the significant rough weather starts. I'd say this is where Jimin starts noticing how he feels, and the turmoil begins, because this is also where he makes eye contact with the camera (1.23).

He sees us watching.

Fuck. I had a moment here. There's a look on his face as he walks past the camera and stares right into it.

AUTO CALLIBRATION...

As another millisecond flash of light and rainbow colours seep into the footage, The machine text 'AUTO CALLIBRATION' appear on the screen and flash there for a couple of seconds.

CALLIBRATE: To standardise... by determinning the deviation from a standard so as to ascertain the proper correction factors (Meriam-Webster definition).

"Get a hold of yourself, Jimin. Reset (your behaviour and desires) to correspond with expectations"

Jimin makes a very determined bee-line for the nearest girl and dances with her, ignoring the burning car in the foreground.

This brings us to the next phase of the narrative, and the next location - the performance space in front of the OASIS cinema.

(Do you see the doors of the cinema - BTS referenced again).

As he dances with this girl, the camera zooms out and we see that a crowd has gathered outside the cinema, watching them, but the crowd does not seem friendly and the dance seems performative - the movements are exagerated and obvious. The girl has Jimin in a headlock at one point and then she pushes him away and leaves. All in all it's an unpleasant event.

At this point the BTS members return (Although now there's one missing) and they dance with and around a number of female dancers. flashes go off in the crowd as the choreo is performed.

As they dance the wind picks up quickly and papers and cans are blown about. Even when Jimin is obviously interacting with female dancers the weather continues to pick up. Dancing with the girls isn't helping.

The camera pulls back and we see the same car as before, still on fire.

This is the moment when the penny (or billboard) drops.

All the other dancers scatter, dissapearing in a matter of seconds as the billboard comes crashing down. The billboard blocks his path. Wherever he had been planning to go - or whatever course of action he had planned to take - this man on the billboard forces a new decision. Jimin has to rethink his plans.

Jimin turns and goes in the opposite direction to everyone else. (A similar scene occured in Like Crazy, Jimin going the other way, rejecting the norm, going against the tide).

The machine text flashes "REWIND ... REWIND" on the screen and we see Jimin heading back to where all this started... where the original car on fire was seen.

He's travelling his own path now, but as he walks, alone in what seems to be the wrong direction, we see the store lights brighter, reflecting off cars and filling the space around him.

He's going through the motions with the girls he passes but the interactions are brief and in one case he actually dodges the girl completetly.

He retraces his steps amidst the chaos, and the weather really goes nuts. Now there are cars being thrown through the air, streetlamps exploding. The storm is almost upon him.

As Jimin steps into that original street again, the one with the neon letters spelling BLISS, the machine text reads PLAY. It's almost ike he's having a redo, where he accepts who he is from the start and allows the chaos to happen. And the chaos DOES happen, because the tornado has arrived.

THE TORNADO OF LOVE.

There's a flash and the whole screen is flooded with colours, blanking out the footage.

Jimin can no longer dance in step with everyone else at this point. He's doubled over, belting those high notes at the climax of the song while the chaos rages in the background. Without the music to give his actions context, it almost looks like hes in agony.

Sparks fly, lights flash, even the film itself is affected...

He eventually gets it together and rejoins the choreography, picking up his life so to speak. But his callibration is forever changed. the colours that bled into his life are there for good now, and and as he walks away after the music stops, we see that those colours are not just for the performance, they exist outside of that.

A note about the light flares we see throughout the MV:

It was really hard to catch these, some of them were literal milliseconds. I had to slow the MV down to play at .25 original speed and even then they were fleeting - well hidden.

Only the one at the very end was really visible.

In this one, the word PAUSE appears, as the MV ends. I wonder if that relates to their military service?

The flares of light and colour, those rainbow flashes, aren't always easy to find. Youvhave to be prepared to seek them out.

We will find them if we look for them, but i think Jimin won't show his true colours until after the lights go down and the performance is over.

I respect his decision (if that's what that is) and i will continue to meet him here his stands. I'll support everything he does knowing what I know and I'll continue to search for and uncover the hidden messages he sends us.

#park jimin #jikook #국민 #bts jimin #park jimin who #jimin who #tornado of love #jimin muse

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hazshit-hotel-hater · 4 months ago

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Moxxie Redesign! (2/4)

You didn’t think I forgot about this did you? ‘,:/

I wanted to base Moxxie off of what his name actually implies, having nerve and determination. Ive almost entirely changed his personality in certain ways. He is still an assassin but he takes his job very seriously and struggles with his inner morals because of this. Being berated by Blitz often leads to him pushing aside his concerns with his job and causing internal conflict instead that he typically only ever talks to these issues about Millie. She is trying to get him to consider therapy but he doesn’t want to lose his “sparkle” (he gives in eventually and goes and it goes fine, this would be around season 2 but definitely after episode 6)

Moxxie also doubles as a medic for any potential injuries at I.M.P (this happens often). Moxxie was also born in greed so he has the more aquatic qualities of a greed imp such as the little headlamp, frills, and gills. And for any fish nerds, yes I know only female angler fish have headlamps, thats the point. Viv has literally no main trans characters so I guess I have to do everything myself. Plus I’m tired of the super straight shit that happened a few years back, Millie isn’t any less straight for dating a trans man. I think Moxxie certainly struggles with his masculinity and also takes his job so seriously as a way to prove to himself that he’s meeting some sort of “masculinity criteria” however he’s fully aware of how silly the mindset is (hes working on it). I think som trans imps may definitely paint their horns like Moxxie, but with certain days I really doubt he gives much of a shit considering it probably gets chipped a lot anyway.

Moxxie still hates his upbringing and the greed ring leaves a sour taste in his mouth, however he prefers to use his knowledge and features from greed in his work. For example, preforming minor surgery under his headlight, it’s goofy as hell and I think any show benefits from some extent of stupid silliness like that. It’s also good for distractions!

Moxxie isn’t always super serious like in this art either, he’s still a bit stupid but still respects himself. Tough nut to crack because of his past but is very kind underneath somewhere.

Heres some notes I went off while working!

- glasses (REQUIRED. Give him those stupid little circle spectacles)

- Get rid of the stupid suit

- Maybe some interesting horn stuff?

- Make him look a bit more like his voice, not sure how to describe this

- Write a boyloser properly

- Probably doubles as a medic? I think he’d be interested in medicine with all that errrm akshully energy he has

- Make him actually look like an adult (I tried)

- More of a fishy tail

- Born in wrath but both parents are greed imps so he has those features + moved back when he was like 6 idk

- Or idk maybe imps change the longer theyre in a certain ring? Could be fun

I have a lot more I could talk about with this guy but I’ll save it for some other posts :3

#helluva boss #helluva boss critique #helluva boss criticism #helluva boss critical #helluva moxxie #moxxie helluva boss #helluva boss moxxie #moxxie #helluva boss rework #helluva boss rewrite #helluva boss redesign #helluva rework #helluva rewrite #helluva redesign #my art

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torchwood-99 · 1 year ago

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There's a lot of discussion about Tolkien's work and feminism, is it sexist, is it feminist, how does the fact that Tolkien's work held feminist themes make sense with the sexist views he expressed in real life, is this plot point regarding a woman sexist or feminist?

And I think the key thing here is remembering that feminism isn't a state of being or a personality trait, it's an action and a thought. A person can both be feminist and sexist. They can hold sexist attitudes and do sexist things and they can also hold feminist attitudes and do feminist things. After all, feminism is complex and the rights of women is a fight on multiple fronts, a war made up of multiple battles.

Tolkien was an upper class white man raised in a time of great sexism, and lived and worked in a sexist environment. He also had a very strong bond with his wife and lived in a time when women's rights and the role of women were undergoing massive changes. His works have far less women in them, and his women often get side-lined and their characterisation/plot relevance are often influenced by sexist tropes (passivity, existing to be a trophy, role defined by make relationships).

At the same time, his female characters can show great heroism, competency and power, and perform feats of heroism in ways that have traditionally been seen as "masculine", showing that a woman being a woman doesn't inherently make her incapable or suited only for certain jobs. And not only that, his characters, like Eowyn, outright call out sexism (all you words say, you are but a woman....you have leave to be burned in the house because the men will need it no more). He also has an in-universe female character speculate on how history has overlooked women, the history he wrote.

Tolkien's attitudes and beliefs would have been influenced by the attitudes and beliefs of his time. He would have grown up in a sexist environment and internalised rigid views about women and femininity and their proper role. He would have also; perhaps subconsciously or despite himself, taken in the feminist arguments women were making at the time, or even noticed himself some of the injustices that women suffered. The man himself didn't need to identify as a feminist to have expressed feminist views. After all, "I'm not a feminist but...." followed by a statement that is definitely feminist, is something we've all seen at some point.

There's also the badass, wonderful Haleth, who was originally conceived as a man, only to be changed into a woman by Tolkien later on. Perhaps he himself noted, as his own characters did, that women had been overlooked in his work. Just as the world around him changed and attitudes towards women adjusted, it is possible that Tolkien's did too. There would have been a difference in what was conservative in the year he was born and what was conservative in the year he died.

So, are Tolkien's work sexist? Yes. Are his works feminist? Yes. Are his female characters sexist? Yes. Are his female characters feminist? Yes.

We can read Tolkien's work and find feminist messages and be uplifted by them. We can also read Tolkien's work and criticise the sexism that is at play.

#Tolkien #Lord of the Rings #Middle Earth #the silmarillion #Haleth #Eowyn

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longing-for-rain · 1 year ago

Note

what exactly is Aang's toxic masculinity that you're talking about? there are no examples of such behavior on his part in the show. he is not an ideal person, he is a child who sometimes behaved incorrectly, just like all the other children in the show (Katara, Toph, Sokka), and this is normal.

in addition, we see how he regrets some of his wrong actions and gets better, while Zuko does not regret his toxic behavior, doesn't apologize and doesn't face the consequences of his behavior (racist jokes about Aang, demands that Katara forgive him as if he has the right to her forgiveness, an attack on Aang to "teach him a lesson" and many other things).

Hi anon, thanks for the ask! This is a very good illustration of what I was talking about in this post when I mentioned that I feel toxic men are overlooked more often for appearing “nice” than they are for being conventionally attractive.

No examples of toxic behavior in the show? What do you call this then?

I know what I (and the law) call it:

But you see, he’s “nice” right? This is just a misbehaved child, as you put it? Yah, no. He knew better and still did it because he was possessive; this whole interaction started because he was jealous that an actress playing Katara was interested in men other than him. And the show proceeded to frame the situation in a way that made Aang sympathetic, despite being the aggressor and the one behaving irrationally. How much more “toxically masculine” can you get than that? But he put on a flower crown once so we’re supposed to think he’s a soft uwu feminine boi (even though he was absolutely enraged that a female actress played him).

I also find it very interesting that you describe Katara and Sokka as “children” while Zuko is omitted from that list despite being the same age. Are you admitting you agree he’s more mature, or are you admitting that you hold him to different standards?

But, anyways. You asked about toxic behavior on Aang’s part, which I’ll get further into now that the most egregious example is out of the way.

Let’s break down what you consider unforgivably toxic behavior on Zuko’s part and compare it to Aang’s behavior in similar situations.

1. “Racist” jokes

I’m guessing this is made with reference to the “Air Temple preschool” comment. How exactly is this racist? In context, Aang is the one trying to force his beliefs on others, and Zuko makes this comment to a) tell him to back off and b) point out that Aang is, in fact, a child who doesn’t have any business telling Katara how to feel.

This point is particularly interesting to me, because it implies that the simple fact that Zuko doesn’t agree with the philosophy of Aang’s culture makes him racist. By this logic, Aang is also racist against Katara’s culture, because he clearly disagrees with her philosophy and is openly telling her that his culture is morally virtuous over hers. And well. That’s even more believable considering Aang’s previous reactions to Water Tribe culture.

Ah, yes. Playing with a cultural artifact like it’s a toy because you were upset about not being the center of attention for once, and telling everyone how disgusting you think cultural food is, what great ways to show the supposed love of your life how much you respect her culture!

I know your response to this point would be something like “uwu but he’s a kid he didn’t knowww” ok well. The same logic can be applied to any alleged “racism” on Zuko’s part.

2. “Demanding” forgiveness

Zuko: What can I do to make it up to you?

Ah, yes. How demanding of him. He’s clearly so self-centered and only thinking about his own values and agenda here.

It’s not like he…

…told his friend how she’s allowed to process her grief and try to impose his own morals…

…or demanded to know if his crush liked him back, wouldn’t accept “no” as an answer, and forced a kiss on her…

…or told an abuse victim he was wrong to want to kill his abusive father for trying to commit a genocide…

…oh, um. Yeah. Sorry, but after actually watching the show it’s very clear to me which character doesn’t seem to regret or see the flaws in any of his actions at the end of the show, which is when all of these examples took place.

3. Training in the finale

“Attacking Aang to teach him a lesson” … wow, that’s a very dishonest way of phrasing that situation. I’m impressed, I have to say. I’ve seen lots of dumb takes from Aang stans over the years but this is a new one.

Well, luckily I actually watched the scene in context, so my reaction was the same as all the other characters’ reactions in canon when they learned the context behind this “attack”:

They agree with him. Yeah. Obviously, when nobody is taking training seriously when the world is about to literally go up in flames, you might need to do something to get their attention.

“But it was dangerous!” you might argue. Well… yeah. When magic and bending is in the equation, training in the Avatar universe has been shown to be somewhat dangerous at times. As an example, from this very same episode, Toph very nearly smashed Sokka with a giant flaming rock. That was way closer to hurting someone than Zuko was in this incident. If you’re going to fault characters for making their training exercises too dangerous, I guess Toph is mega cancelled.

Now back to Aang. What was his reaction in this situation? How did he react to the end of the world being days away? He ran away with absolutely no plan. Just like he did at the very beginning of the show.

I mean, think about it. This is a critical flaw (and toxic trait) in Aang that is literally never addressed, because he starts and ends the show the exact same way: he’s faced with a problem, he runs away from it, then he’s saved by an in-universe equivalent of an Act of God. Wowie, such great character development. Not fixing your core flaw and having a mythical plot device materialize into existence to solve your problems for you. Aang’s whole arc is a big blah, because the writing fails to address any of his flaws or have him meaningfully question any of his values.

Meanwhile, Zuko has consistently been a fan favorite because he’s the opposite. His flaws are meaningfully addressed, he does admit he’s wrong and fix his flaws, and his character shows a critically acclaimed change throughout the show. His arc is written so well that despite being a cartoon character, Zuko is widely considered the poster child for a good redemption arc across all forms of media.

So anyways, miss me with the double standards… there is a reason why Zuko is the fan favorite, and it’s not just his abs 🔥

#fandom salt #meta #zuko #katara #aang critical #canon critical #atla #zutara #anti kataang #ask #anon

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kateysummers99 · 8 months ago

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Do you think the WWBM Interacial movement has now got to a critical point where momentum has starting to challenge even the majority of White Women now as far as there choices for relationship ? May we as White Males even lose this group of females to African Men more then we keep ourselves ?

The short answer is definitely yes.

Because of my own personal experiences and also just looking at major social trends, it's pretty obvious that IR relationships (in general, but specifically white girls and black guys) are much more common now than they were 10, 30, and 30 years ago.

I think there are lots of reasons for this and I’m obviously not an expert (I work in finance, not cultural psychology), but lets just look at the obvious trends:

Girls today are more empowered in general, and especially regarding sexuality and romance. I mention this a lot on this blog, there are less things hold girls back than there used to be. Movies and TV and culture in general are so much more accepting that people can love who they want to love, and that applies especially to society being more accepting of girls expressing their sexuality. I grew up in a time when dating black guys was an obvious but implied no-no, and it's just not the same today. (Note this is NOT true everywhere. Sadly there are racists and homophobes still, but they will probably be holdouts until they die.)

Black men are idolized for their physicality and masculinity by society more and more every day. Sports, music, advertising media, movies, social media and TV shows - you name it, black guys are constantly the icon of masculinity, status and power. This is really true for their masculinity, where we regularly fetishize the sexual prowess of black men in every day culture with phrases like “once you go black you never go back.”

Porn is free and everywhere. Also something that wasn’t the case when I was growing up, but now you just pick up any cell phone and in a few seconds be privately and anonymously staring at an amazing black man and his huge black cock (or whatever your fantasy is).

Also in the last few years, social justice and institutional racism has become a hot topic, I think a lot of women recognize that the same old white male patriarchy that has been suppressing women since the beginning of time has also been responsible for suppressing Black people. This puts white women and black men on the same side on a pretty deep level, where they see each other in the same existential struggle for happiness against the common enemy that is old white guys.

Another interesting thing that I've read reports about is more and more young white guys who are essentially "staying single" forever, sometimes due to porn addiction. They make a sexual connection with porn that is easy and judgment free, which is the opposite of the real-world dating situation where they deal with complex social dynamics and competition (including trying to compete against more masculine black men who are constantly in movies and music).

So if that's a growing tend... then young women find themselves more free in choosing partners, society idolizing black guys, exposed to IR sex and porn, and more culturally aligned with black guys… and young white guys basically removing themselves from the dating pool.

As for me personally, I have always thought think black guy / white girl couples are the most beautiful -- there's a special passion and primal attraction that goes deep down that you just don't see with other couples.

So yes, I think black guy and white girl couples are definitely more and more popular. I don’t think we’ll ever get to a point where all white men are unwanted forever (sorry white boys who message me, desperate to live in such a world), but I do think increasingly empowered girls and wider acceptance of female sexuality will naturally trend to more black guys and white girls together - which is all beautiful to me :)

#interracial couples #interracial love #ask me anything #ask me questions #social justice

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absolutebl · 1 year ago

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Pit Babe - it's time for a Trash Watch!

I had to. Well, no I didn't, but COME ON. It's like Thailand is negging me. Let's burn rubber, shall we? Burn rubbers...?

The things I had been told going in about this show:

it's about car racing (this bores me)

it stars Pavel (my BL ult bias, he is my icon for a reason)

it started as an omegaverse y-novel but the A/B/O aspects would be stripped from the BL series

it's high heat

(There some chatter about whether point 3 was a mistranslation of something the author said, but don't bother me with trifles.)

Here's a definition of omegaverse:

Omegaverse, also known as A/B/O (alpha/beta/omega), is a subgenre of speculative erotic fiction, and originally a subgenre of erotic slash fan fiction. Its premise is that a dominance hierarchy exists in humans, which are divided into dominant "alphas", neutral "betas", and submissive "omegas".[1] This hierarchy determines how people interact with one another in romantic, erotic and sexual contexts.[2] (Wikipedia)

In my experience and opinion, omegaverse archetypes and tropes are often used to strip out female characters (and The Feminine) and as a tool to excuse extreme hyper-masculine behaviors without a critical feminist lens (leading to lazy characterization). Just as heat is an excuse to get nkd quickly, A/O/B is often an excuse for taboo and dubious consent actions and behaviors. Do I get why writers/readers enjoy it? Yes I do. Do I personally like it? Not particularly. (Although there are always exceptions.)

Putting all that aside, the above represents my foundational knowledge before Pit Babe started.

Oh and that the familiar BL faces appearing in this show were follows:

Pavel Naret (aka Pavel Phoom) from 2 Moons 2 & Coffee Melody - Pavel is a fluent English speaker, a bit of a drama monger, and a motorcycle rider/car-dude, this role suits him

Nut Supanut from Oxygen & Something in My Room - has an amazing voice, his somewhat wooden acting has improved steadily since Oxygen

Pon Thanapon - one of Star Hunter's stable first seen in the Gen Y series (where he stole the appeal of an intended pair), also v good in Make a Wish, I wish he'd get a lead role as he has a likable screen presence

Pop Pataraphol from La Cuisine - he's playing the Alpha rival and I'm not convinced he's suited to this role

Michael Kiettisak from Love Sick, Oxygen, Call it What You Want, Till the World Ends - playing the comic relief this time rather than his usual tortured stoic... huh

All the rest are either fresh faces or older experienced actors. Interesting mix. They must have some money behind this.

And now, get out your marshmallows! The dumpster is on fire! Let's start the roast.

Episode 1 - Platypus, Pickles, Pavel, & other Smoking Hot Problems

This first segment told with a 4 day retrospect, because I decided to do a trash watch only after @aliceisathome said I should.

My initial reaction:

the sheer audacity of Thailand being like "PitBabe is not omegaverse" and then serving "Alpha" to us on a platter in the first sex scene is

how dare

but also

what the actual fuck is going on? what world are we living in where a/b/o is LIVE ACTION ON OUR SCREENS?

we getting heat, knotting & mpreg next?

apparently this is my reality now

I'm not sure what weird quantum time stream I've jumped into but someone was all,

yes the whole world is hella screwed, but also...

Thailand has decided live action mm fanfic is gonna win it the culture wars

and I'm beginning to think they may be right

BL is now the platypus of the film industry

4 days later:

Considering how much chatter this caused there's a part of me that wondered if it was all intentional and a marketing ploy (to say it wasn't omegaverse when obviously it is). In which case... brilliant Machiavellian tactics, production.

But Thai studios are rarely this calculated in their promo. So I think it's all accidental. But it certainly caused a raucous few days on Tumblr.

On a completely different note, Babe's house looks like it started life as a particularly inventive Olive Garden. Or is that just me?

More random thoughts:

Pavel has had work done, why honey? You were the definition of perfect.

The smell thing is great, I love stuff to do with scent and necks. If omegaverse brings this to the table, fine. But...

Being all Alpha perfect butch manly man = I do not like Babe at all, I kinda want him to be brought down a peg. (Woo... pegging!) I never like narratives that glorify the captain of the football team (side eyes Cdrama CEO romances and Love O2O), Babe better have depth and damage (forget the pegging) of some kind or his behavior will get old FAST, faster than he drives (also, forget the pegging idea)

Nut is ideal in the Beta role. I mean, that's Way's character right? We all can see that. If it's not intentional, it's a miscast. I love how soft he is as as screen presence. He's great in this part.

None of the other characters are sticking out to me yet, but I'm prepared to love the side dishes in this, please make them swoon worthy!

I'm glad they didn't hold the Charlie = trickster reveal off, I like knowing he is a double agent up front.

Finally, with respect to an adequate trash watch, I'm in a pickle.

How am I going to drink for this show when there is so much else airing on Frigay? I can't keep track, if I'm drunk.

I need a strategy for this trash fire if the puns and snark are to spout forth! (HA Fourth!)

Controlled burn?

Anygay, see you all next week.

Episode 2 - Side Dish Addiction + Second Lead Syndrome are both infecting me at once

[FYI I gotta have my backup computer to watch this so that's why Imma sometimes be delayed getting the trash out to the curb.]

3 minutes! 3 minutes in and I needed to pause and wax snarkful. (Ouch, bet that hurts. Is waxing snark similar to a Brazilian but for BL? Is that why they all so hairless in The Sign?... I digress, where was I?)

Okay so the subber said Daddy but I don't think that word means what they think it means. Because Way said simply nong paa.

Usually they'll use the English word Daddy (pronounced Dah-deee) for, ya know, Actual Daddies (tm).

Wait wait:

Calling Daddy Actual

(My dumb sci-fi loving arse will see myself out the back before I start drawing Battlestar Galactica = Pit Babe connections. TOO FAR ABL. Too far.)

Look, I like the tension in this show. It's good to set up an unlikeable Alpha dog and then immediately turn him into an underdog, makes him a bit more likable. I still don't like Babe, but now at least I'm on his side.

Charlie = cute but v sus. Fortunately for him, Babe = cute but v thick.

Everyone calls Charlie Babe's dek. Yes sounds a bit like what you think but also means kid/child and SHOULD be translated as boy in this show. Why doesn't the subber get that? They a sub...ber after all. (I'll see myself out.)

Honestly, the script writers might know what they are doing with abo but our eng sub translator sadly does NOT. I'm so glad this is coming now in my BL watching life. When my ear and knowledge of Thai is so much better than it once was. Others much be SO CONFUSED.

Snicker. They just fucking with us, but it's fun to watch the mpeg speculation abound.

File this one under: Thailand's trouble with ESL plurals and also "you should have Pavel helping with these subs" sweethearts.

Production knows entirely what it's doing with this show and its omegaverse shizz (even if the subber doesn't) and I am very much enjoying the online carnage that results.

This dumpster fire continues off screen into the blogosphere and I continue to roast things over it.

Meanwhile, hi Pon! You so adorable! When you gonna lead out a BL for us?

Is Idol Factory stealing all of Star Hunter's talent? Are they the Red Racers of the BL world? These are the questions I ask myself as I watch this.

Is that AGE GAP I smell before me?

Is the 20 yr old college kid meant for the pit boss? Cause you all know I am a slut for age gaps.

Moment of a/b/o: Jeff's fear of touch/heightened personal space would be a plot marker for "baby doesn't want Alphas close cause he smells like an omega" but of course this show it not omegaverse. Not omegaverse at all.

nuh-uh

Linguistic corner!

Lung (sounds a bit like loo) is uncle(ish) it means basically a male relation older than phi. So Alan is the oldest in the crew.

Alan calls Jeff nu (which the subber translated as boy I would have gone with cutie or little one). Nu is a diminutive affectionate term that's technically gender neutral but is most often used by/on cute girls/women. Jeff did NOT like it. Then Alan sort of dodges through pronouns/particles settling on phi for I, ger for you, and ja for a particle. This is interesting because ger & ja kinda lower his age and status into a casual sphere. Not more intimate more equal to jeff... fascinating.

I love the new "Korean" red racer, he drinks my brand of soy milk. He is now my baby snake in the grass.

Get it? Snake.

He and Babe should end up together.

The fight wasn't bad, do both actors have kickbox training in their backgrounds?

Who am I kidding, I care only about Uncle Alan and Nu Jeff now. All others are irrelevant to me.

Also...

WHERE IS A BOY FOR WAY?!!! Or a Daddy. I do not care. (Methinks nether does he.)

I am now captain of the Way Appreciation Society. Let's all find a way... to get him some dick.

Also the BTS stingers are tons of fun. Looks like the set was a blast.

Finally, and I mean this kindly. Why isn't Noh Phouluang in this? He should have been cast as Winner. Bah. I'm biased.

But one should be with Noh.

Episode 3 - Side Dishes Delux

Gayest bridge n Thailand has made its obligatory appearance.

How much do I love uncle & nu? They are SO damn cute. Also nu flustered is the best kind of nu.

I could not care less about Babe and Charlie. Except I do love the smell thing.

Way will break my heart by getting his broken. He is right tho.

Tra la la. I feel like this is a bit like KP 2.0.

Charlie is a such a princess (and ace manipulator). Good thing Babe clearly likes being buttered up.

Babe's backstory was more interesting than I expected, I didn't think we would go so far into the paranormal side of a/b/o. I like it and I hope they lean into it quite a bit more. Make it part of the plot.

Unlike the kissing thing which seems to have been gotten over rather quickly.

I gotta say I'm enjoying the corporate sponsorship jockeying and tension more than I thought I would. I'm curious as to who Jef and Charlie are working for and what their motivation is. The plot itself is keeping me intrigued and that is rare for me with BL.

So no trash talk this ep, I was largely absorbed and entertained. I didn't event need booze. Shocking behavior on my part.

#giveWayaboy2023

Episode 4 - I (who never ship) am shipping the impossible

Here’s the thing. I just want this to be a better story than it is. Right now it’s kind of like a soap opera. I don’t hate lakorn, I really don't. To Sir With Love is a glorious chewing of the diamanté scenery (completed with death glitter). But...

If this is gonna be a soap opera it needs to lean into the messy side more than the tailored high concept side. Support characters and evil needs more screen time.

Instead, right now, I don’t know where I am with this show because it doesn't know where it wants to be. I’m kind of dangling in the middle of a dirty situation. It’s uncomfortable for me, and the show feels uncomfortable for the performers.

Also... I have questions.

Yes, of course I want to know what Charlie & Jeff are up to. Why can Jeff see the future?

But more importantly I NEED to know why Babe has a flying saucer bed?

That kind of lighting makes nobody look good, especially not at that angle. It’s very traumatic and I’m not wild about the shag rug either. I have concerns about Babe's taste. I guess is what I am saying.

On a COMPLETELY DIFFERENT note:

There’s absolutely no chemistry to justify this, but I have decided that I am going to personally advocate for, and ship, Way and the interloping not-really-Korean. They are both sort of own-moral-code types. I have tiny crush on Kim, and Nut is the prettiest, and Way is Best Boy so there it is, I would like them to hook up, please & thank you.

#giveWay2Kim2023

Arrow guy is cute, too. Will we get to see him bone?

Is he going to be another one of the adopted alpha super-kid pets?

What the hell, throw Arrow Boy a bone! All hot boys in BLs deserve bones.

Plot thickens.

Hah.

Thickens.

(I am an immature idiot.)

Episode 5 - wait wait way-t, can arrow boy have Way?

Look, BLabies, I didn’t get any screen caps this episode because frankly there wasn’t anything worth capturing.

I guess Charlie really does love Babe? Very dramatic if idiotic saving from the burning car. But Babe has gone to the broken Alpha place of extremely unlikeablability (frankly he was almost there at the start). If I were Charles B Spectacled I would be OUT by now.

Is that?

NO.

Don't get the plastic bowl.

No white towel sponge bath. Please kill this trope.

I mean, it's not as bad as singing, but that's because NOTHING is as bad as singing in a Thai BL.

AND the main boys are back together.

I don’t find their relationship or Babe’s lack of senses a particularly interesting aspect of the plot.

Unless, of course, Babe is pregnant and that's why he lost his Alpha sniffer.

BUT I do love the sides.

Jeff = the introvert precog who can’t/wont do people and Alan = the extrovert people person who WANTS but doesn’t understand him.

Were Jeff and Charlie ALSO raised by Evil Daddy MacEvilPants?

I liked the way Arrow CEO & Way looked at each other. Way, hon, give up on Babe (he sucks) and get thyself a billionaire bf with great aim and BDE.

On a completely different note, the best thing about this show is the blooper reel. That thing with the green smoothie going down his pants was hilarious!

In conclusion, this was a green smoothie down the pants episode. I was entertained, and it’s probably gonna be good for the plot in retrospect, but it was kind of squishy and unpleasant at the time.

Episode 6 - Are they actually listening to us now? Is Tumblr bugged?

This was a fun ep full of like actual racing and shizz.

Whatever.

Charlie is on the team now. All the teams, apparently.

Can we talk about Jeff and Alan?

The apology scene! Did you hear that Alan dropped to chan/ger? Eeeee!!! So cute. (He equalized their relationship in a soft way.)

Get it with that language play hottie. Next up: lengua play.

Please & thank you.

Meanwhile, as all of the Internet knows, they went fully in for omegaverse - no bars.

I have to say, one of the greatest typos (or whatever) in existence is enigma instead of omega.

That's where I personally would rank in the omegaverse.

Hello, my gender is... enigma.

Apparently it's a/b/o and sometimes e! Also sometimes switch-ee

Oh I'm very proud of myself with that one.

Funfunfun

Charlie. Babes. When a man asks to be thrown up against the wall. You throw him against that wall.

OMG is that arrow boy looking at Way in the bar?

3 seconds later.

Noooo.

Wait come back.

Noooooo.

That’s what I actually want to watch!

OMG. Who said nu was the first step to teelak?

I flipping love Alan.

Ah the boyfriend ep. Thank you, but I still don't trust Charlie.

Poor Way.

But nice crying jag, and I don’t say that often in Thai BL.

Now let him go, Way.

A boy with his arrows is waiting.

(source)

Note for the future: tumblr has a bug that stops allowing edits after a certain time/number, thus my full trash often occur in 2 segments as a result. Click on the "abl trash watches bl" tag for the full thing if you're reading this and later episodes are missing.

#pit babe the series #pit babe #thai bl #abl trash watches bl #Pavel Naret Promphaopun #pavel phoom #trash watch #2023 bl #currently airing bl #watch along #Nut Supanut #Pon Thanapon #พิษเบ๊บ

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