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#anyway yeah fuck it. i love their dynamic so far and i need more. and i cant draw right now so... parallels!!!
toastsnaffler · 1 year
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man. getting a little sick of being everyones 15th option for everything. when is it my turn to be someone's first choice :^[
#or even second tbh I'll take it#i had a couple old friends from college msg me recently to tell me what theyve been up to#which is sweet and i care abt them n wanna hear it! but they dont ask after me or show any interest in how I'm doing#and it makes me feel like I'm just their journal or smth. a brick wall they happen to be standing near#don't get me wrong I love to be useful. but when ppl only ever interact w u bc they need smth from u. well.#rly not doing anything good for this complex im developing where my self worth is directly tied to my usefulness to other ppl lmfao#i dont want to be ppls fucking dog!! or not any more than i already am but whatever thats all im good for i guess!!#and i desperately want someone to be my fave person rn bc all my energy is going nowhere + im at my best when im at my most devoted#so ppl treating me like this rn is just making me incredibly vulnerable to being taken advantage of.#like yeah i am eager to please and ill follow anyone around and do whatever for a crumb of attention but maybe#if you're actually my friend u shouldnt be encouraging that behaviour. even if it makes u feel good like cmon thats not so cool man#or if you ARE going to encourage it then maybe u should acknowledge the power dynamic ur creating + try not to abuse it. idk 🤷‍♂️#urgh idk maybe im just saying words rn im very tired#I just feel like all the friendships etc I have atm are slipping into that dangerously unbalanced zone + becoming v one way#and I don't know what I'm doing wrong I'm trying the best I can and I guess its just not enough for anyone and that really really sucks#I'm doing better mentally rn but I dont currently have a support system + there are a lot of destabilising forces in my life#so im just. worried abt the direction things could take if I lose this foothold I've dragged myself onto yknow.#and I wouldnt have to be so worried abt that all of the time if I just had someone literally anyone I could rely on or even trust#but oh well. it is what it is. doing all I can to take care of myself so hopefully it won't come to that anyway.#sorry for rambling on so much if u read this far I'm giving u a kiss on the cheek don't worry abt me honey I've got this#anywayy goodnight#.vent#.diaries
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pshcomforts · 3 months
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➳ shameless | psh.
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highschool!sunghoon x fem!reader
“there’s just inches between us”
synopsis: you and sunghoon are academic rivals, always going head to head.
warnings/content: written in third pov. cursing. not proofread. sexual tension. kind of suggestive? a little bit of idiots in love. sunghoon gets jealous.. and possessive? reader’s always late to class but somehow still has the best grade. (this one’s my favorite so far)
comments, likes, and reposts are appreciated :)
word count: 3.9k
༘˚⋆𐙚。masterlist⋆.✧˚
a/n: fictional characters — dae (jungwon’s partner), min-su (heeseung’s partner), and ji-woo (jake’s partner).
current song playing: shameless by camila cabello
↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺
2:35 ──────────────|───── -1:04
another day, another struggle of being late to class.
y/n sighed as she checked her phone for the time.
[ 10:42am ] — it read. she felt her heart weigh down at the given time. “fucking late again..,” she groaned while speed walking her legs to class. an unusual amount of notifications blew up her silenced phone, indicating that her friends were questioning her whereabouts.
“come on, i gotta make it.” the girl harshly huffed in quiet and unsteady breaths. “mr. lee’s gonna kill me.”
in minutes, she found herself booming through the door with only deep breaths audible. [ 10:56am ] — her phone beamed.
“made it..,” she murmured through her harsh gasps for air.
“y/n, you made it!” yelled her friend, dae, who had widened eyes. “well to second period but..”
“y..yeah, hold on… give me a second.” her hands smacked down on his desk as her head lowered with exhaustion.
dae giggled at her state. “did you run here?”
“i basically did!” she yelled out, causing him and their two other friends — min-su and ji-woo to laugh as well.
“you’re who i have to beat and yet you can’t even get to class on time?” a voice from behind jerkily snorted.
y/n’s head instantly bolted up at that familiar, stupid tone she could easily recognize. “shut the hell up, park. you’re here more than me and yet your scores are lower, you really wanna mention who’s beating who?” she shot back with an intense glare.
her rival, sunghoon, only chuckled in a laugh at her words. “your score was lower than mine last test, second place. i don’t think you should be talking either.” he let a stupidly handsome smirk tug onto his lips.
she rolled her eyes, blood beginning to boil the more she looked at him. “who’s grade is higher hm? exactly.” the girl uttered, before turning her full back to him.
she heard him humor a chuckle before giving a faint ruffle to her hair. “we’ll see about that, nerd.” her hands went to the messy strands, huffing out an annoyed sigh as he left with a playful smile plastered.
her friends giggled at their relationship.
“girl, you and sunghoon need to get together already.” ji-woo chimed with a teasing grin.
y/n’s face morphed into disgust before furiously shaking her head. “are you crazy?? i could never be with someone like him.”
“your dynamic is cute though. a little disgusting, but cute.” min-su added in, shrugging her shoulders afterward.
“puh-lease. he hates me and i hate him, nothing could change that.”
dae’s brows slightly raised. “mhm… okay..,” he murmured.
“look, just because you guys are dating his friends, that doesn’t mean i should date him. he’s too much of an asshole anyway, who would even like him?”
she would. the girl was in complete denial, turning all her confused love into misdirected fuel for competition.
he was a distraction and she made sure she’d always see it that way. he couldn’t possibly differ her from the strong perspective she had of him being the hot, asshole nerd he was.
he was attractive, maybe a little too attractive; but his personality couldn’t agree with that. as her academic rival, he joked and played around with her, enjoying the little reactions he could get out of the cold, heartless girl.
but she couldn’t say she liked the teasings she’d receive from him. she could never admit to it because no matter how appealing he’d may be, he was still competition.
“well we’re not saying you should-“
ji-woo’s words were cut off by the entrance of mr. lee and their widely known friend, jay.
heads were turned and confused faces had morphed in onto each student.
“class, this is park jongseong from mr. yang’s class. he’s transferred to ours so his schedule can fit a few other classes, please welcome him,” he announced to everyone.
y/n’s eyes twinkled with delight at the sight of her friend who was awkwardly waving to his new peers. “hello..,” she heard him beam with a smile.
“you’re welcome to choose whichever empty seat you’d like. i’d suggest sitting next to either of my top two students, y/n,” mr. lee pointed to her, “or sunghoon. both are great choices to choose for catching up with our class.”
given that jay was a friend of both, he remained a little unsure before ultimately deciding to sit next to y/n.
he placed himself on the right side of her, giving sunghoon a clear shot of the two alarmingly close to each other. he let a puff of air slip by his lips as he subtly rolled his eyes.
“could’ve sat next to me but chose to sit next to that loser?” he silently fumed in his seat, forcing his attention away from the two who were conversing.
sunghoon didn’t know why but his heart was burning, aching almost. he’s never felt this way before. seeing how the girl he attempted to hate smile and smack his friend’s shoulders churned his stomach.
his jaw clenched and his ears fell deaf on everything else once he heard his rival call him — “park.”
“park?? park?” he guffawed with a loud, clear scoff in his throat. “she’s calling him park? my nickname she has for me??”
he angrily folded his arms as he tried to keep himself quiet. his mouth continued to spew out a few other words about her existence, along with some curse words added in for jay’s part before being interrupted — “why are you so loud?”
his head whipped to the right, meeting eyes with his friend, heeseung whose head was laying on the desk. “almost everyone can hear you, hoon. you’re showing that you like her a little too much.” the older male teased with a shit eating grin.
sunghoon exhaled a long breath before uttering a quiet — “shut up” to his friend. just then, a little note was thrown onto his desk, catching his attention.
his head cocked to the side in confusion before turning to the direction of where the paper came from.
in seconds, he found ji-woo’s boyfriend, jake, mouthing ‘open it.’
his hands crumbled it open and found the words — ‘are you jealous?’ — written on it.
hoon’s face immediately wore a frown as his brows furrowed back to his friend. in return, jake motioned for him to write back with his hand doing little scribbly lines.
he groaned out a soft sigh before complying to his friends words. ‘jealous about what?’ he wrote, faking his coy state to hide how he felt.
he gave a harsh toss back to jake, allowing the aussie to open it with a ‘pft’ leaving his lips afterward.
‘don’t act stupid, you’re looking sus ඞ’ — written back to sunghoon.
jake tried to throw it back to him but with such a bad angle toss, it ended up landing on jungwon’s desk.
he cocked a brow at the crumbled paper, opening it to find the two different sets of colored words — red from sunghoon and black from jake.
won turned to sunghoon with an eyebrow raise, giving a quick toss back to him, not before adding in his own input of course.
‘hoon’s jealous? about what? y/n? (⚆ ̫ ⚆)’ — colored blue to the tall boy.
sunghoon gave an annoyed grunt after reading his friend’s words. almost a little too harshly, his hands quickened in a pace before throwing it to jungwon once more.
‘i’m not jealous (ง •̀_•́)ง’— he rolled his eyes at his confirmation. “me? jealous?” he quietly scoffed in disbelief.
before he could toss it to jungwon’s desk, a snatch from the right was made to the paper, indicating that heeseung had caught on to their little game.
he crumbled it open, raising his brows and widening his eyes in amusement. sunghoon softly sighed as he watched the older male start writing as well. “great.. heeseung’s in on this now too.” he whispered under his breath.
min-su’s boyfriend finished his thought and gracefully threw it to jake. ‘he’s such a liar, i heard him just minutes ago talking about them (ఠꍓఠ)’ — heeseung wrote in green.
the younger boy silently laughed, widening his bright smile as he scribbled a few words back. ‘hoonie has a crush (ꗞ _ ꗞ)’ — he threw to y/n’s rival.
sunghoon opened the note before rolling his eyes and clenching his already-tense jaw. his hand wrote out his thoughts, pen undeniably denting the paper in frustration.
the passing of the note went around the four for a while, eventually reaching niki and sunoo as well; jay staying mindless to all of it because well, he was still talking to y/n.
the two conversing and turning to one another for a peer talk was the view from sunghoon’s perspective.
soon enough, mr. lee caught on as well, and just with luck on its side, sunghoon was the one to be seen with the passed note.
“one of my star students? really?” the teacher uttered in a slight scoff.
hoon’s head instantly lowered at the obvious disappointment present in his teacher’s tone. he’s never felt this sort of fizzling letdown before and he didn’t know how to take it.
“what? no, i-“ he tried to justify, only to be cut off by mr. lee — “i’m fairly disappointed, sunghoon. i expected more.”
everyone’s eyes were on him and all he could do was have an embarrassing amount of blush on his cheeks.
“you’ll serve detention for disrupting my class after school today. see me then.”
his head lowered even more, avoiding the judgmental stares received from his peers.
a snicker then came from the direction of where his rival was at. a poorly hidden snicker at that.
y/n softly snorted out laughter, hands attempting to cover her mouth but doing it very horribly with the fact that her worst enemy was just embarrassed.
sunghoon shot a glance to her, teary eyes narrowing at the girl before shifting to jay who was trying to quiet her down. there it was again. his heart painfully throbbed at how his friend interacted with her.
“well if you think it’s so funny y/n, you can join sunghoon for detention as well,” mr. lee spat to her.
almost immediately, her eyes widened at his words. “what?? but-“
“can’t wait,” he intruded with a push to his glasses. “would anyone else like to join my two students who i thought were my academic weapons before i return back to this lesson? no? okay, let’s proceed.”
min-su, ji-woo, dae, and the rest of the enhypen members avoided eye contact from the two
y/n fumed in her seat, grumbling out quiet curse words to herself as she rolled her eyes. “he gets in trouble but i somehow get sucked in? pft, asshole.” she mumbled, putting the blame on him even though it was her own fault.
from the back, hoon placed his hand over his mouth to cover himself from sneering a laugh. sure, he hated the fact that he was about to spend more time with the girl he hated (liar), but he felt satisfied that she got in just as much trouble as him. then the thought of having to see her again clouded his head, and it pissed him off once more.
karma really was a bitch.
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
hours passed through the school day, and ms. choi was the last and final teacher.
with just a few minutes left, she caught everyone’s attention. ”your tests have finally been graded, so scores will be out soon. please look out for it on the bulletin board when you get the chance.” she said, giving an approval head nod seconds after the bell rang to head over.
students scattered around to the bulletin board, little pushes and shoves were made as most of y/n’s friend group rushed for their score.
“a 95! yes!” screamed ji-woo.
“92! i can live with this,” dae pointed out.
“93! holy shit, i passed!” min-su yelled.
y/n’s eyes widened. “97?? OH MY GOD! i actually passed! all that hard work paid off!” she shouted, jumping up and down in glee.
the academic group cheered together, giving hops in their designated stance all at once. they circled around, still in oblivious glee before y/n had come in contact with sunghoon’s score.
68.
her heart dropped a little for him. she immediately stopped her jumps and examined the paper.
eight rankings.. the boy went down by eight rankings, no longer being her competition for now.
she didn’t know how to feel. for as long as she could remember, they’d been going head to head for first place, and now she’s got the upper hand.
y/n was finally in the lead and for once, sunghoon wasn’t the runner up.
her eyes continuously looked over at his score. she couldn’t even lie, she’d be in distress if her score went low like that.
‘wait- no way i feel bad for him?? i should be happy that i’m finally rank one by myself.’ she thought, scoffing in disbelief with how she almost felt sympathetic for a jerk named sunghoon. but she’d understand him — the disappointed looks from his family, the eating guilt from doing bad, the expectations to never failing again — she knew what it was like.
and it was then that y/n shifted her attention from her friends to across the hall where he was. her heart instantly thumped in pity as she watched his strikingly, attractive face turn sour with every step he took.
the look of disappointment was clear in his facial expression, and she could see it herself. she almost wore a frown when watching him slowly disassociate from his conversation with the enhypen members — something that only she noticed.
the girl watched him excuse himself to leave, then it clicked into her head that she had detention with him.
“aw fuck!” she cursed aloud, catching her friend’s attentions.
“what?” asked ji-woo with a head tilt.
“she has detention with sunghoon,” jake chimed from behind, slinging an arm around his girlfriend.
min-su and dae snickered in laughs before y/n exhausted a groan. “shut up!” she yelled to them.
“have fun,” min-su’s boyfriend, heeseung, teased with a sly smile.
“you know she won’t baby,” his girl intervened, following his smile and mirroring the evil grin he had.
the single girl rolled her eyes after noticing their friends link arms with their significant others.
“it’ll be over soon, y/n. just ignore him!” dae yelled. “i mean you could talk to him but..,”
“babe, does it really look like she wants to talk to him?” jungwon asked, planting a soft peck onto his boyfriend’s cheeks afterwards.
“well i’d rather be in there than seeing all this couple stuff.” y/n refuted, huffing out a breath of air before leaving to detention in defeat.
she left the scene, hearing the remaining words of jay scream out — “i’m staying after school for a bit, so say hi if you see me!”
when she approached the class, she felt her heartbeats in her throat. she softly clenched her chest. ‘what is this feeling? pft, this is stupid,’ the girl thought while entering in.
“y/n, good to see you’ve finally arrived on time. take a seat right there,” mr. lee spoke with another push to his glasses.
a red color picked at her cheeks when she met eyes with her arch rival, sunghoon. being announced that she wasn’t late for once in front of the person she hated was way too humiliating.
but then she remembered that he got a low score and she suddenly felt better.
y/n sat across the room from him, making sure that she’d breathe no same air as him. she gave a soft sigh as she checked her phone.
[ 3:17pm ] — it read.
it’s gonna be a long while.
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
about an hour passed, and detention was almost over.
the entire time the two were stuck in there, it remained silent. tension filled the air with every quiet glance they could get, every small glimpse they could steal from each other.
a few minutes later, and mr. lee had finally announced they could leave.
“i sincerely hope that my two star pupils won’t disrupt my class again, have a great rest of your day.” he murmured, lips firmly pressed together to emphasize disappointment.
y/n groaned out a sigh once the teacher had made his exit. “finally gonna go home,” she mumbled under her breath.
a clink from behind was made, indicating that sunghoon was still in the class. she gave a quick stink eye and though he couldn’t see it, she felt stupidly proud of herself.
she exited out before he could, head directly staring down onto her phone, causing her face to meet a very broad chest.
y/n shot her head up, expecting to see a stranger but instead saw a familiar face. “oh jay! you stayed!” she yelled.
his face beamed a bright smile before nudging her head. “yeah i had to for a class, how was it spending time with sunghoon?” his brows raised in amusement, enjoying how frustrated she got.
“shut up, park!” she cackled, sending a smile and a smack to him.
it was then that sunghoon’s feet were glued to the ground at the door frame. he seethed through the gaps of air in his teeth. there it was again; that stupid pounding in his heart.
the nickname ‘park’ was in a different sense of tone that he’s never heard before. a playful, sweet tone that set him off in the wrong way.
“park?” he unbelievably scoffed.
he watched the two interact from afar, hearing how they unintentionally flirted with each other was boiling his blood. jealous? no. can’t be.
“are you about to leave?” he heard jay ask her with his infamous smirk.
“yep, just waiting for my brother.” y/n beamed, showing him a bright smile that should’ve been for hoon.
the tall male rolled his eyes. she’s never that nice to him.
“i could take you home if you want?” jay asked, lips pressing into a line.
sunghoon’s heart dropped, sank even. taking her home? his arch rival? hell no.
he stepped into the scene with a firm jaw clench. arms folding in an irritated way, he spoke — “i’m gonna talk to y/n, no need to take her home.”
he stared down at jay, unintentionally burning holes into the boy who had accidentally got involved. no sense of indulging familiarity spoke in his eyes because all he could do was drag his enemy away with a tight grip on her wrist.
hoon brought her to a more secluded area, ignoring her confused whines to let go. he loosened his grip, letting go just to grasp her in his hands again. they dug into her shoulders as he pushed her back against the wall.
he furrowed his brows before keeping his gaze down, avoiding eye contact. y/n didn’t say anything as she stared at him in confusion.
only heavy breaths from him were heard before he angrily spat — “you’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”
his teeth gritted, digging his fingers deeper into her shoulders. he didn’t know why he was acting this way. he just couldn’t stand the fact that she was so close to jay after basically spending an entire day together.
y/n’s brows furrowed at his question. “what? what’s wrong with you? i was just talking to jay.”
hoon’s head picked up at her words, finally locking gaze in a softened look she’s never seen before. “does he mean anything to you?” he croaked in a husky voice.
“he’s just a friend. why are you even asking this? you’re not my boyfriend,” the girl scoffed with a slight smile. “you’d like to be though, wouldn’t you?”
“shut up,” he seethed in a stern expression. his softened eyes turned back to a glare. y/n quickly caught onto the pent up frustration in it, hinting that his test score added in on his outburst. “you don’t know how badly i wanted to pull you away from him today, how badly i should’ve shown him that you’re not his.”
sunghoon’s face inched closer to hers, noses delicately coming in contact. she could feel his breath on hers and all she could do was feel physically weak.
“i should’ve huh?” he uttered in a scoff, trailing his gaze from her lips and back to her eyes. “would you have liked that?”
their lips were close to connecting, grazing against each others. she’d pull in but he’d pull away, and when he’d pull in, she’d pull away as well.
✩ ‘i want you to give in, i want you to give in’ ✩
tension raised and so did their body heat. y/n’s hand was firmly pushed on his chest but she didn’t actually push him away, she just liked having the chance to have her hand lay there. she felt her heartbeats get louder within each second, chest heaving at how close he’s been getting.
✩ ‘there is tension between us’ ✩
“this is not like you, sunghoon.” her brows furrowed more. “you can’t be acting like this.”
“i can’t?” he cracked with a shit eating grin. “and why can’t i?”
his head cocked to the side before questioning with his eyes. “isn’t it better for us to act like this than us acting like enemies?” he inched his lips closer once more, letting just heavy breaths be audible to ears.
✩ ‘i just wanna give in’ ✩
y/n’s hands finally pushed against his chest. “control yourself, park. you’re not my boyfriend.” she repeated, face becoming stern.
“control myself?” he laughingly mocked. “you don’t know how much i’ve been doing that in front of you. i’ve been holding myself back this entire time from doing more, and you want me to control myself, now?”
✩ ‘it’s been a secret for the longest time’ ✩
sunghoon’s grip tightened around her shoulders once more, pressing her harder against the wall.
“look at me, pretty girl.” he spoke, letting one of his hands hold onto her chin.
y/n gulped. her heart dropped to the pit of her stomach at the sudden name change. she’s never seen this side of him before. it was new and unfamiliar, and she liked it.
✩ ‘i need you more than i want to’ ✩
hesitantly, she let her eyes fall on him.
he jerkily smiled, enjoying how his academic rival had now fallen under his touch.
“control myself?” sunghoon restated. “fine, i’ll control myself.”
he quickly backed away, grip loosening and letting go. he watched her fall into ease, hands clenching onto her chest to stop her rapid heartbeats.
a sly smirk curled onto his lips as he raised his brows. “see you tomorrow, nerd.” he uttered, walking away soon afterward so he could have the last say.
y/n stayed still in her stance. her sense of touch almost went numb as she tried to process all of what happened.
she suddenly felt her phone buzzing, indicating that her friend group was calling. her brows pinched together before declining the call, and texting that she’d join when she’d get home.
a breath of air left her mouth once she found a text notification from her rival, sunghoon.
park 👎🏼:
Let’s talk soon, pretty girl.
I don’t think I could ever control myself around you.
nothing would ever be the same between the two again.
★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★
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pupcuck · 5 months
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ROTTEN LUCK !
ft. leon s. kennedy x fem!reader
tags. smut, kidnapping, leon is like mentally gone icl, references to past assault and trauma, non-con, manipulation, suicidal thoughts/reference to an attempt, general leon self destructive behaviour, physical abuse, power dynamics, throatfucking, choking, breath play, somno, 1 instance of drugging, unmentioned age gap, anal, he puts duct tape on your pussy ok just once promise it’s not bad, religious references, 1 mention of vomit and piss not in a sexual way, slight misogyny, panic attack
tumblr has started to remove fics that use tw non-con, tw incest and any nsfw tags in general. for this reason, as i’d like my fic to appear in the tags so i can have the same reach as other authors, please understand that this fic contains dark content under the cut. reading this comes at your own risk.
anyway, please ignore typos :3 rbs and feedback is very appreciated :3 my medical knowledge sucks, so keep in mind that all of this is off LMFAO crossposted to ao3 (user clitkiss)
two
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Lucky. Leon hates that word. He wasn’t lucky to get out of Raccoon City, he was just barely capable, you have to be unlucky to get into that situation in the first place. You’re a lucky guy, Redfield had told him once, Chris not Claire. Claire isn’t daft. And Leon wonders what is so lucky about him. He’s forty-six and all he’s got is his trusty Matilda, his mother’s old Bible, and a failing liver. His luck is preordained by God and it’s a total sham.
Leon Kennedy’s the one who showed up to drill sessions smelling like sweat and cock. Kennedy’s the one that rolls over onto his front and takes it like a good doggy. Kennedy’s green behind the ears, pretty in the face, and that don’t fare well in a boot camp full of men twice his size. Kennedy’s the one brushing shoulders with the President, got the USA’s most prized dick in his mouth and everyone knows that he wouldn’t dare bite down. Golden boy Leon fucking Scott Kennedy would just go ahead and use his tongue to clean up Graham’s ballsack. And you’re calling that lucky? Bullshit.
The DSO’s modus operandi is strikingly similar to that of the BSAA. He is but a cog in a well oiled machine. There’s one difference, not a dog tag to his name. If he dies, then he’ll die nameless, and he’ll be cremated by something nuclear, and it’ll all be for nothing. Ain’t that just the luckiest thing you’ve ever heard?
He has tried to kill himself once or twice or thrice. He lost count after the fifth. The gun jammed once, a bad joke. Left Matilda rendered useless. Was meant to be him, not her. And if Leon’s being honest, every day is an avid attempt, as in the drinking and praying his liver gives out. Once he managed to get halfway there. Doesn’t remember a lot. Just blood. Lots of blood. Why couldn’t you be quiet about your grief, Leon? Claire’s expression had asked, how I am, how Chris is, how Jill is.
‘Cause he couldn’t. He had to go ahead and splatter his grief all over the linoleum floor. Maybe then someone would find him, and they’d mourn him, and they’d feel sorry for him ‘cause he’d pitied himself enough. Leon told her a joke, yapping away like one of those butterscotch lapdogs. Claire said that in South Korea you’re allowed to snip a dog's vocal cords to stop them from barking. Lucky I’m not in South Korea then. She handed him an orange prescription bottle with his name scrawled on it, and that was that. They didn’t speak for a few months.
Once upon a time Sherry needed him, now he needs her more. Needs her to laugh at his jokes, she’s the only one that does. And he needs her to tell him, I love you, Leon. She’s the only one that says that. No one puts up with him like Sherry does. She puts up with him in the way most women do their fathers. Love their dads unconditionally and nothing can ever fix that. Terrible illness that is. So, yeah, Leon Scott Kennedy is far from lucky. Lonely? Oh, for sure. God. He’s so lonely he feels sorry for himself. That’s one thing Leon has always been good at though. Lending himself a shoulder ‘cause no one else will.
His fingers brush yours in the record store. The hairs on the back of his neck stand. Jesus. Is it getting that bad? Leon’s been without a fuck for a few months and he’s already itching. That’s a new low. When Leon looks up to catch sight of who made his dick swell with their fingertips, he catches your eye briefly. A mousy little thing. Easily spooked it seems by the nervous smile you give him.
You’re on the phone, I don’t know what he likes anymore, dad, yeah—I’m trying to find it—Yes, I know who sang Sex and Candy, dad, Kurt Cobain right? Is that the one he likes? Dumbass. No, I’m not wrong, could you put mom on the phone—Hi mom, yes, I know he’s my brother, mom—Ever since he turned fifteen he stopped talking to me properly—I don’t know what she thinks, mom—
A mommy, daddy, a brother, a sister too he assumes. You’re what they call lucky. Nasty undertone you’re using with your parents. If Leon’s mom was still around he’d talk to her so sweet. She’d tell him to pray and Leon wouldn’t resist. Alright, Ma, Ave Maria, gratia plena, Dominus Tecum— then his voice would trail off, and he’d pretend to mouth the rest of the hymn ‘cause he remembers fuck all.
He wants to knock you around. Shake you till your brains scramble. Wants you to flinch even when he’s being nice. Leon’s nostrils flare when you raise your voice in the slightest, even if it’s playful, it’s plain rude. How dare you? He can’t even begin to fathom how incredibly lucky you are. The thought crosses Leon’s mind once, twice, thrice. Just how suicide did that day back in September. If you can kidnap the President’s daughter from her bustling college campus, throw her over your shoulder like salt, why can’t you kidnap Miss Nobody from a street corner in D.C?
Your figure is distinguished by a single, flickering street lamp. He sees your shadow. Recognises the silhouette by the shapely legs and how your belted coat flares out to create a dramatic hourglass, Leon’s got a good eye for detail. Oh, it’s kinda sexy watching you in the spotlight, like a makeshift cabaret show, go on babe, bust out the flapper dress, he knows his stuff, he read Gatsby back in high school. He listens out for the tap of your heeled boots, click-clack, click-clack, there you are, you don’t even know what’s about to happen, do you? And it really is that easy. Just like throwin’ salt over your shoulder.
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Temazepam, loprazolam, lormetazepam, diazepam, nitrazepam. Some melatonin too. Magnesium’s supposed to help with insomnia. How’s he supposed to know what your body reacts to best? Leon’s not your fuckin’ GP. Chloroform does the trick for everyone. Should’ve invited you out for drinks and roofied you instead.
Leon had gone for an old-fashioned method, listen, he was desperate. He doesn’t usually resort to such bruteish tactics unlike the older Redfield, not that Chris would use a morsel of his strength to harm a lady, but it had to be done. Yes, he choked you out. No, he’s not proud of it. He’s actually pretty disappointed in his lack of preparation. Oh, cut yourself some slack, Kennedy, it’s your first time kidnapping someone, and it was a heat of the moment type thing. To Leon’s dismay, that doesn’t last long, duh, he should know better.
While you regain sluggish consciousness on his couch, Leon’s tearing through his kitchen cabinets for anything to settle you down. Ah. That’s right. Ketamine. Ain’t it horse tranquilliser? What’s that doing here? Honestly, he’s got to stop raiding the infirmary for all they’ve got. A high enough dosage will knock you out for sure. If it kills you, then so be it. Beer for guys, wine for the ladies, and Ketamine for random sluts he picks up on street corners.
You’re blinking to clear your hazy vision, feeling around your crushed windpipe to assess the damage, he leans over you like a nurse from hell. The needle breaks your skin easily, so tender, before you have the chance to kick up a fuss, your eyelids turn to lead and close like a toy babydoll’s do when you lean them back.
Fifteen to twenty minutes, google says. Leon gets down to business, strips you of your clothing, takes you to his room, throws you on the king-sized bed that’s warmed only by him. He kept your panties on. They’re light blue and sensible briefs. A buzzer rings out in his head, bzzzt, boring. A million bitches in D.C. and he picked out the most vanilla one. Just his Kennedy luck ain’t it.
One minute. Leon presses his nose to the fabric of your panties, sniffs like a pig does in its trough, isn’t that just the sweetest smell? Fresh cunt. He licks up the print of your pussy, tongue landing on the hardness of your clit.
Five minutes. With your panties soaked with Leon’s spit, he decides to move ‘em to the side, and he groans in delight when he parts your cushioned lips to find that you’re stickier than toffee pudding, drooly cunt reactive to the pads of his fingers, to the tip of his tongue. He pushes back the hood of your bud, gives it a kiss, then another.
Ten minutes. He’s opened you up, gaped you around three thick fingers, Jesus, you’re so tight. It’s like your cunt’s vacuum sealed. Leon’s fingers prod at the squishy opening of your cervix, his thumb circles your clit, presses down like a button and he’s rewarded with another gush of slick. Beer on tap.
You rouse from your forced slumber at fourteen minutes. Huh. He’ll have to up the dosage next time. “Hi there, sleepin’ beauty.” Leon says in a rather cloying voice, amping up the sweetness when in reality he is less than fond of you. The lucky girl. He strokes your head soothingly, hovers over you to keep you in place. The panic sets in almost immediately, flailing limbs, asinine attempts at sentences that crawl up your throat and spill over. Who are you, get off me, get off me, please. What did I do? I’m sorry, please, let me go, let me go, please, I’ll do anything. Albeit your words are slurred, Leon chooses not to hear you.
“Aintcha just the sweetest thing?” He cups your cheeks, gaze so gentle it’s disarming. “I opened you up, didn’t wanna break ya, just wanted you to wake up before we got it on, I’m a real gentleman, you see.” Before he rapes you, he makes sure to ask: you got a rubber by any chance, sweetheart? Oh, and you don’t like that, you really don’t. ‘Cause your face falls fast like a drop tower ride.
The chance to scream is lost on you when he shoves his fingers in your mouth, pushes them down your burning throat till you choke and drool in an unflattering manner. Your jaw is too lax to clamp down on him. Leon takes this opportunity to smear his leaky, fat tip over your folds, pushes past the barriers of resistance and slides into your pre-gaped cunt. Lucky bitch. Lucky fucking bitch. Getting yourself a piece of Leon S. Kennedy’s dick. He reserves that for only the finest ladies, aka any girl that has a nice set of tits and dark hair, greying roots are a new preference.
He’s fully sheathed inside of you, head rubbing painfully against your cervix. Bruising it from the look of discomfort on your face as you make stupid-sounding noises around his fingers. “Fuck, yeah, that hits the spot.” When’s the last time Leon had his way with a girl, wanton fucking, pulling hair, slapping— they all want it soft and sappy these days. And so did he up until a certain point. Up until he tried to kill himself maybe. Something must’ve flipped in his brain, now he’s overcome with the need to mess your pretty face up.
Leon’s forehead presses to your clammy one, your sweat is salty on his tongue when he kisses your cheek. Slightly sour scent, ugh, what’s he saying? Acting like he’s a fear-smelling B.O.W or some shit. Fuck off, Kennedy. His hips aim upwards when your body shifts due to the thrashing you’re doing, with each thrust he bottoms out with a wet squelch, rolls his hips into you at a force that knocks any chance of breath out of you.
“If you were a good girl,” Leon smiles, all teeth. They glint in the muddy darkness of his room, black-out curtains drawn so not even the moon gets to see what he’s doing to you, “then I’d be fuckin’ you real slow, real nice, rub that little clit till you came.” Your wrists are both cuffed within his grip, pinned over your head as he drives into you, as if his intention is to tear straight through you.
The heat in his gut uncoils, but he’s timed himself well enough, pulls out ‘cause god forbid he knocked you up. Knowing Leon’s luck he’d manage it. Then he puts his cock in your mouth, “I got some pliers out back.” He says in warning as he jerks the shaft and your lips hesitantly close around the tip when he gives you a mean look. Total lie by the way, no matter how abnormal Leon is he does not own a pair of tooth-pulling pliers. Shoots his load down your throat, you splutter and push at his abdomen to get him off.
He pulls out in his own time, lays beside you. All of his chakras are aligned. Apparently there’s seven, but Leon’s only got two. And they’re entirely dependent on whether he’s sucked and fucked till he’s thoroughly satisfied. By god he is. Benedicta tu in mulieribus, Et benedictus fructus ventris tui, Iesus. That’s the rest of it right. He remembers now. You might just be his saving grace, Lucky Girl. His very own Sancta Maria, Mater dei. Damn, you hear that, ma? Leon’s got it down to a T. Maybe some more pussy will get him singing out the rest of the prayer. He can get rid of that statuette on the mantle, swap it out with you.
He doesn't get a word out by the time you’re vomiting a vile mixture of acidic yellow and his seed down the front of your chest. Retching as you choke on the gift he’d given you.
Leon takes you to the bathroom, forces you into the shower cubicle as he sprays you down, not even waiting for the water to go warm. “Dry yourself off,” he gestures mildly to where there’s a few towels stored.
You don’t come back out of the bathroom for five minutes, then ten, then twenty. Don’t even answer when he knocks. Goddammit, Leon. Leave your kidnap victim alone in the room with all the razors, why don’t you? Fucking idiot. When he opens the door, you’re huddled in the corner by the toilet, dry heaving into the bowl and sitting in a puddle of your own piss. Stupid fucking baby. Is this what kids are like these days? When he was your age he made it out of Raccoon City alive, and no one made it out of there. No one lived to tell that story. And you’re here pissing your pants ‘cause he’s given you a nice, hard fucking? He pimp slaps you so hard your teeth clatter.
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It takes two weeks for his Lucky Girl to be broken in. Not as long as he expected, so he’s pleased. And when Leon’s pleased, he’s nice. So today you get some screen time. You’re curled into his side, the way a baby bird does under its mother’s wing, squinting at his sixty-five inch TV, egregious really, who needs a screen that big? He’s flipping periodically through the channels whenever an ad break comes on. The 7.45PM news is on. He settles on that and you watch mindlessly, no objections.
The speech blurs like white noise to him, Leon’s not focused until your picture pops up on screen, and he just turns to you with this shit-eating grin. Graduation cap and robe on, all dolled up as you make eyes at him through the screen.
“Baby,” he grins wolfishly, ruffles your hair in a teasing manner, “you look so damn cute there!” Leon watches bright-eyed, suddenly enthralled, they list your name, your height, your weight, all stuff he actually didn’t know ‘bout you. Never bothered to ask. You don’t need a name, you’re just his Lucky Girl. “Don’t like the red lip on you,” he comments flippantly, “A red lip is for whores, don’t you think, baby?”
He was right. You got a daddy, a mommy, a brother and a sister. You’ve got it all. Lucky fucking Girl. A broken sob is torn from your throat, jagged and scratchy as you fling yourself halfway across the room, on your knees as you put your grubby fingers all over his shiny screen. Leon lets you. He finds it hilarious actually. Who’d you think you are? Carol Anne from Poltergeist? Like you’re gonna get sucked into the screen, crawling out the other end like Sadako, back into your daddy’s arms.
Our daughter—My girl, she had her whole life ahead of her—My sister wouldn’t do this—She was so excited to move on after graduation—She’s not the type to run away—My daughter—My sister—Our sister—
Your mother is a mess, barely able to get words out with the way she’s blubbering. “She’s layin’ it on a bit thick, don’t you think, babe?” Leon picks up his beer from the side table, slightly heated under the burn of the lamp. “You look like your daddy, cry pretty like your mama though.”
You stare at him horrified. Jaw hanging open as if it’s unhinged, not in the way a snake does when ready to swallow its prey whole. More in the way of a screaming corpse. When the rigor mortis has worn off, secondary flaccidity sets in, and the mandible drops open. Jeez, tough crowd tonight it seems. Don’t make him sew your mouth up, Lucky Girl. Leon wouldn’t dare, that mouth, that throat is precious to him.
CCTV footage plays on the screen, another sob racks your brittle frame, you didn’t know it was him that day, Leon realises. “Oh, baby, that’s where we met, ain’t that funny?” A blurry image of you on the phone, prattling away to your family like the Lucky Girl you are, he’s just out of shot.
We miss her—Please, if you know anything, if you find anything—Please—
“God, let me get my phone, darling, they look so upset I can’t stand it. I might have to call them up and turn myself in. Give ‘em an early Christmas gift, don’t you think?” If Leon went missing, who would look for him? Hunnigan with all her sharp edges, or Claire with her unwilling loyalty to him? Lucky Bitch. It’s making his temper flare, that’s enough TV time for today.
The screen fades out, goes black when he switches it off. “No, no, no,” you chant, “no, no, no, no, please, please—“
“I’m disappointed in you, baby.” Leon says honestly, sips his beer and laughs mirthlessly. “I thought you’d started to like me.”
You’re not listening, too busy fitting on the rug, grasping at the screen as if you can pluck your family out of it and reunite with them on his living room floor. Leon did think you were getting used to him though. Family’s family, blood is thicker than water. Cum is also thicker than water. And that’s what he’s pumped down your throat nightly in hopes of it clogging up your brain, so you think of nothing but him. Those dogs in South Korea, the ones Claire told him about, he’s got his own special method to take care of your vocal cords. No snipping, no surgery needed. Just the throat training method.
“C’mere, lucky girl.” He clicks his tongue as if he’s calling out for a dog. You lay unmoving, rocking back and forth, whispering to yourself like a crazy person. Bit creepy. Leon stands, he grabs you by the hair and drags you to sit at his feet near the couch. Simple and effective. Backhands you for good luck. He needs it. “Stop your cryin’ I’m getting sick of it.” Leon says, brows wrinkled as he lowers his sweats, brings your head down to rest on his thigh. Your tear-stained cheeks turn him on, the doleful eyes, runny nose. It’s hot. His sad little girl.
“Suck it.” Leon taps the tip against your pouty lips, swollen from his earlier kisses, coats them in his pearly pre, “I won’t ask twice, sweetheart.” You open your mouth, take him like clockwork. He don’t like that attitude. So he pushes your head down on his cock, watches your throat bob, uncomfortably full. Leon pinches your nose, listens to how you panic so nice around a mouthful of dick, gagging in a way you never have before. Not a gag that indicates inexperience, but one that is full of sheer terror, nails leaving red marks on his thighs as you drag them down his skin. Ouch. He’s gotta trim those down.
“You get it now, babe?” Leon hums, he lets you off this time, “Do what I say and it’ll be fine, yeah?”
“Yes, yes, yes, Leon,” you nod furiously through gulps of air, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry.” Fuck. Another one of your panic attacks. He’s not got the patience to deal with this. “I won’t—“ A wheeze, “ I won’t do it—“ A croak, “I won’t do it again.” You’ve learned to handle yourself. Rub your chest with your right hand, stare at the ceiling till you calm down. Leon’s dick is still rock hard. Ready to crack open a walnut.
“Good girl,” he nods, “then get on with it.”
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There is nothing you’ve done in particular to set Leon off. He’s just had a bad day. Hunnigan’s senses are much too acute, she thought something was off with him. That put him on edge. So he’s like a ticking time bomb. Just waiting for you to make one wrong move. And you do. You say no to him, pleadingly so, shaking your head as you look at him with your fairytale fawn eyes. Meekly admit that you’re sore and achy and it hurts.
“That’s not your decision to make, sweetheart.” Leon informs you, he grabs a roll of duct tape from the kitchen, nicks at the edge with his teeth and tears a strip off. You bristle, completely still, a thousand thoughts running through that pea-sized brain of yours. “But I’ll be nice today, been waitin’ to fuck your ass anyway.” He puts the strip on your cunt, over your chubby lips to hold them together, it feels strange and icky. The last thing Leon wants to see is blood. He sees enough of that daily. So he’s generous when it comes to prep, busts out the cherry-flavoured lube today, squirts a decent amount on his fingers, cock, and your tighter hole.
You squirm, he watches the unreadable expression on your face carefully, the rise and fall of your chest. You’re nervous, but you’re wet, and that makes his chest swell in pride. Lucky Girl finally gets it. One finger slips past the ring of tight muscle, Ora pro nobis peccatoribus, nunc, there’s one last line he’s missing. It’ll come to him. Two fingers in, he scissors you open, spits on it just ‘cause it turns him on to see it run down your crack.
That’s enough, Leon thinks when he fits the third. He wants to make it hurt a little. Wants to feel like a big, strong man. He sits back on his knees, flips you over onto your front, he likes you this way. Just takes you in, how your tits hang low, brushing against the mattress when Leon presses a hand down on your back to keep you from arching. He takes his dick in hand and in he goes, easier than he thought. He wonders if you can cum just like this, with his dick pounding your ass.
He fucks like an animal, you gasp and yelp below him, unable to handle it as his hips smack against yours. The duct tape is starting to peel ‘cause your pussy is fucking soaked. That alone makes his balls tighten as he turns you back over to do damage control, and ‘cause he wants to see your face while he fucks. You look like you’re lovin’ it. Alright. So you’re an anal slut. Got it. He pushes back into your ass, groans when you clench around him, the duct tape peeling at the corners, he can’t handle it. Et in hora mortis nostrae. Leon’s mind blanks when he cums, fills your ass and his limp cock slips out. Shit. A-fucking-men. That’s right, he remembers. That’s how you end a prayer.
You don’t cum. He tears the duct tape off clean. You let out a loud ‘Ow, Leon!’ and frown at him. Beads of arousal stick to the piece of tape, your pussy is pulsing, walls fluttering around nothing. Leon kisses your swollen clit, rubs it steadily till you cream on his tongue, sweeter than molasses his Lucky Girl is.
“Leon?”
“Yeah, baby?”
“I love you.” You tell him shyly, gaze at him with this dumb fucking smile on your dollface that makes his heart squeeze. God, he’s gotta keep you around, his lucky charm.
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darkuselesssomebody · 2 months
Text
𝕧𝕒𝕝𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕖'𝕤 - dark!raider!joel miller x reader
complete masterlist
words || 𝟛𝕜
summary || in which the reader wants a valentine's gift, but Joel's not exactly her boyfriend
a/n || i'm so shocked i haven't written dark!joel before?? i love him, your honor. also, for the raider!joel concept, though overall popular for fanfic, i was personally super inspired by @toxicanonymity and @romana-after-dark. they both have fantastic raider!joel content, please check them out!!
➵ warnings for specific content before the divider, please heed them, this may be triggering content!
➵ technically ooc to joel in the show, but his dark past is hinted at so yeah
➵ not proofread
➵ comment/message if you'd have a request
warnings || smut/dark (dddne)
➵ !! reader is held captive and is experiencing stockholm syndrome. other women to which the same this is occurring are mentioned !!
➵ dubcon sex
➵ unprotected sex
➵ manhandling
➵ controlling dynamics
➵ slight degradation
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“you have to do something for her.”
joel wonders how, as his younger brother, tommy always seemed to be nagging him, instead of the other way around. his face pinches in a scowl.
"the fuck i look like? cupid?" he growls back at his brother, rifle sagging on one of his shoulders, forcing him to readjust. tommy rolls his eyes.
"ya even have john and michael doin' somethin' special for their girls." he reminds joel how the other men in the group, with their own souvenirs, at least showed their consideration of the humanity of these girls on valentine's.
"she probably don't even know." joel grumbles, and tommy snorts.
"oh, she knows what valentine's is. the other girls told her. said she'd have liked some clothes."
"the fuck she need clothes for, ya sayin' i can't dress my girl?" joel, ever defensive, hates being talked down to by his little brother.
he hates more the fact that she seems to tell tommy so much more about herself than she does joel.
"y'can dress her, joel." tommy sighs. "but it won't hurt if she wears somethin' other than yer crusty flannels once in a while."
joel rolls his eyes, but he, luckily, doesn't have to entertain the rest of the conversation. a deer rustles the branches of a tree in the distance. joel's a better shot than his brother, always has been. but he's also less agile. as he's about to shoot, his foot crunches on a stick.
the shot still hits the deer's back, but it's a far cry from the headshot he was aiming for. he swears under his breath, but him and tommy are both already stalking the wounded prey, the same glow of determination and predation in their eyes.
they were still family, after all.
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she used to never be able to sit still. pre-apocalypse, that meant she was always either fiddling with something, reading a book, or talking but... in the past few years, it meant a lot more silent stimulation. it was okay, she got by counting petals of flowers to herself or tracing the veins of leaves with her fingers to keep her mind occupied.
but the one thing she'd never given up was company. she'd had family, or friends, in every walk of this horrible turn of events, until 6 months ago.
when she was snatched away from her cruel life by an even crueler man. stripping her of autonomy and privacy were mild in comparison to her loss of company. the only other people in the house leered or jeered in her presence.
she was usually locked away from them anyways. in a tall tower she couldn't even use her hair to escape from; kept captive for the satisfaction and pleasure of a bad, bad man.
that's what made her head spin, though. because he wasn't always. yes, he was always sullen, and scowling, rough around the edges and calloused in his touch. but he wasn't always bad.
he'd fixed the bathtub of the house they were squatting in so she could revel in warmth if he wasn't around.
he risked his life for a new pack of cards and even a few books so she could keep her occupied.
and he would sometimes press gentle kisses to her forehead when he slept beside her, unbeknownst to himself, and without realizing the effect he had on her.
when the other men had started getting antsy about her being the only girl around (with her obvious off-limits status), joel relented and let them bring back their own. it was to avoid mutiny and maintain control, sure, but... it gave her company, too. and that was important to her.
the women would confide in her. first, of their fears and then, of their growing affections for their own men. it made her happy, vindicated.
she wasn't alone in her stockholm syndrome.
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she's looking at the flowers that michael got for jessica. it's almost comical, with that kinda man and their kinda relationship. but jess liked it - really liked it - and that's all that mattered. john had promised anna something too, which she was talking about as the front door opened.
a dead deer was carried in by the miller brothers, and then some of the other men helped bring it out back to the shed, where they'd scavenge enough to feed the group for the week. as she always does, she approaches and stands in front of joel, greeting him in a low voice. he regards her with a once over, nodding, before his head tilts incrementally up, signalling to his bedroom.
she nods shyly, retreating to the room on the upper floor as joel delegates some tasks, before coming up to join her. she's looking out the window - barred, 'for her protection'- and he finally speaks up.
"what did ya do?" he asks gruffly, referring to the events in his absence.
"played some cards." she smiles softly as she faces him, "talked to anna and jessica." that makes him grimace a little, and she's confused.
"what about?" she shrugs.
"stuff. john and michael are gettin' them things, i guess?" she says it unsurely, "they say it's for 'valentines'?" she says the word curiously, as if wondering if it was something the 4 had made up, or if it was a real celebration. his grimace worsens: he hates when tommy's right. feigning innocence, he continues,
"what's that, then?" she looks at the floor shyly.
"like... a celebration? of... relationships, partners, that sorta thing." it's vague, but it's all she knows.
"huh." joel doesn't continue it further, and he goes silent, as he looks around the room to change out of his dirty clothes.
she sits on the bed, watching him move around, and with every passing moment of silence, her worry grows. did she say something wrong? was he mad? what happened?
when he finally goes to join her, he manhandles her to face away from him. that only makes her more upset, and she feels the prickle of tears in her eyes, as she lays down, and he joins her a moment later.
laying behind her as she feels a tear roll down her cheek, he doesn't realize how upset he's made her: he'd only asked her to turn around so he could fall asleep with the scent of her hair.
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she wakes up after he's already left.
she sighs, rubbing her eyes, that always ended up a little inflamed after she cried. there's a little wetness on her pillow, and she flips it so joel doesn't see.
tommy's downstairs, having saved a fruit for her breakfast. she takes it gratefully, cutting it up and fiddling with the bite-sized pieces.
there's something on her mind - tommy, he notices these things. he wished his brother would, too.
"he's getting supplies." he assures her, knowing what was agitating her. she snaps out of it.
"hmm?" she pops a piece in her mouth, sweetness exploding on her tastebuds as she bites into it, "oh. right, yeah." she realizes what he's saying, "didn't he just get some?" tommy shrugs.
"he likes to go out to the abandoned mall - it clears his head." that makes her squirm.
"is he mad?" she mumbles, and tommy pats her shoulder.
"at you? never."
it wasn't exactly true, she thought. he's gotten mad before: if she talks too much to the others, when she doesn't listen to him, or when she finds herself in danger.
tommy knows joel's not mad in those moments. he's just terrified of what could possibly happen to his girl.
after finishing her fruit, she curls up under the blanket upstairs, wanting some time to herself. humming a melody - she thinks it's one that the guys will sing in an off-key fashion when they get particularly drunk - she tries to occupy herself by counting each of the little plaster bumps in the ceiling, and then all the small flowers on the dingy wallpaper of the room.
she gets to 78 when the door swings open. jolting awake, she makes eye contact with joel, who's looking down at her form under the covers.
"somethin' happen?" his voice is less gruff than usual, and she shakes her head.
"nope. just waiting." she gives him a weak, shaky smile. he doesn't return, but he doesn't click his tongue in annoyance, either. it's a win in her books.
he's got a backpack, and it looks pretty full. she wants to ask what's inside, but she knows he'll tell her if he wants to. he sighs, sitting on the edge of the bed. she scoots over so he has space.
"let me see you." he instructs, and she sits up, crawling out of the covers. sure enough, she's wearing one of his flannels for warmth, and had slipped into a pair of his boxers instead of her otherwise nonexistent pajama shorts. he's silent for a long moment, before he brings his fingers to examine the material. goddamn, was it old, frayed almost everywhere, and the chest pocket had a hole. he sighs, finally speaking, "comfy?"
she blinks, confused, "huh?"
"'re ya comf'rtable?" he repeats, voice gruffer. she lets out a nervous exhale. was it a trick?
"ye-yes. yeah, i'm comfy." she assure, and he hums.
"heard ya want somethin' new." he finally looks her in the eyes, something he doesn't do all that often. she shuts her eyes, cheeks heating in embarrassment and worry. dammit, tommy, she thinks, knowing the younger man had told joel about her offhand comment on clothes.
"it's fine, i'm happy with this." she splutters out quickly, hoping she won't upset him. he sees right though it though.
"yeah, yeah." he scoffs, waving a dismissive hand, as he gets up. her heart clenches, wondering if he was really angry, when he reaches for the backpack, throwing it at her.
it's not an aggressive throw, and lands on the mattress beside her.
"open it." he instructs, and she swallows thickly, unsure what to expect. the zipper is a little worn, but she eases it open... only to find not only clean but colorful clothes inside. she looks up at him in confusion.
"what...?" and for the first time in a while, there's just a hint of a smirk curling at his lips.
"go try 'em on." he encourages. giddily, she beams as she gets up, taking the bag of clothes into the cropped bedroom. he slumps back on the bed, trying to will away his fatigue. it'd been a hassle to collect all the clothes - more so, to find clean one he thought she'd like - so he leans back, waiting for her to return.
she lays out the clothes on the cramped sink counter space, starting with a simple pair of slightly flared jeans, pairing it with a light blue cropped cardigan. she goes out to show him, an obvious pep in her step.
he looks up as she enters, eyes trailing up and down her body, including the way the outfit fits her curves, and the slight glimpse of midriff.
"don't you look pretty?" he drawls, and, though it almost sounds sarcastic with his hard features, a light smile plays on her lips. she tries on 4 other outfits she could make out of the 10 articles of clothing he got her, and he seems to like each one even better. sure, he'd taken the initiative to ensure all of them were a little revealing - he deserved an eyeful for his hard work, after all - but she seemed genuinely happy, and the bright smile on her face almost rivals the cleavage that she shows off in some of the outfits.
when she shows him the final outfit, he pats the space on the bed next to him, and she obliges, sitting beside him.
"happy?" he finally murmurs, pulling her closer by the hem of her pants, and she nods excitedly.
"very." she assures, softening, "thank you." she doesn't need to clarify her sincerity, as it pours out in her tone. he caresses her cheek with his calloused thumb.
"good girl. you make sure to tell the girls." she almost laughs, knowing she'd show off the gift in the same way jess and anna have been with theirs. he wanted it to be known that fucking michael and john couldn't treat a better than he could, "got one more thing f'r you." he pulls her so she's standing, procuring two more pieces of small fabric from his pockets.
she inspects them, eyes widening a little when she realizes it's lingerie. he glances back at him, and he has a brazen and unashamed glint in his eyes. she's about to make a joke that this one seems more a gift for him than for her, but refrains, obliging with a small nod of her head, and taking it to the bathroom.
she strips out of her clothes, pulling up the lace fabric. the panties are practically a thong, shaping her ass nicely, while the bra enhances and perfects the curve of her tits, a small, red bow in between the cups, matching the bow on the hem of her panties.
she looks hot, and damn, is his taste good.
going back outside, a noise escapes his throat - like a guttural growl. he signals her to turn, and she does, giving her an ample view of her ass. he grabs her by the hips as she does, and she squeaks, as he pushes her down on the bed.
"oh!" she gasps, trying to sit up, but he's on top of her in a moment, mouthing at her neck roguishly, a sloppy trail left in his wake.
her skin erupts in goosebumps, but she knows better than to touch him when he gets like this - his need for dominance forbidding it. her hands grip the covers to ground herself, as his lips trail downwards, cheekily biting the bow of her bra, and taking a nip of her skin along with it. she moans, jolting, and he slaps her thigh - but gently. he's not meaning to hurt her - and trust her, she can tell when he is.
"stay still." he hisses, finally parting from her torso to marvel at her, "good lord, gonna fuck you in all this, sweetheart." he mumbles, more to himself than anything else, as his hands cup her breasts framed in the bra, squeezing softly so as to not damage the material.
usually, he'd revel in pushing her down to choke on his cock, and, when he was feeling more generous, he'd go down on her like a ravenous man.
but he was a simple man, who had been generous enough tonight. and he wasn't putting her in a position where he can't see her in the whole get-up, so the blowjob was out too.
fuck it, he thinks, reaching for the belt of his pants, i need her.
she gets up to help him undo his pants, but he forces her back into laying down, "wanna see you." he grumbles, finally undoing his pants. already hard, he palms his cock, eyes rolling back, "fuck."
he lowers again to shift the slit of the panties to the side, exposing her arousal, swiping his fingers through her mess, making her bite her lip. he wipes it gently on her cheek - a wholesome act, with a backdrop of degradation and depravity. he presses a soft hiss to the bow on her panties, making her shiver, before rising to his full length.
"you want it?" he grunts, as he strokes his cock, adjusting so it's lined up. she whimpers, as he's prolonging both of their suffering just to highlight her need for him. pathetically, she nods, and he laughs - barking and cold. "i can't hear you."
"yes!" she gasps out, unable to hold back anymore. he smirks in satisfaction, shifting his hips forward to bottom out in one stroke.
she cries out, eyes rolling back and head lolling onto the mattress, trying desperately to adjust to the stretch. he doesn't have that same decency, animalistically beginning to move his hips.
a squeal gets caught in her throat, and she cave to her instincts, gripping the wrist of the hand he's holding her waist with, squeezing as an indication of not her pain, but her pleasure.
thankfully, the adjustment was quick, and her surprised squeaks morph into pleasured moans, as he grunts on top of her, eyes raking the way that her tits try to bounce in the confinement of the bra. unusually, he's not annoyed by her touch, and it only makes him move more aggressively, as he can tell what makes her pleasure increase - as she'll squeeze his wrist harder.
"who's making ya feel this good?" he growls, "who takes care f'ya, sweetheart?" she chokes, garbled, broken moans escaping her.
"y-you!" she manages to gasp out, "o-only you, no one else, you - you take care of - of - oh, fuck!" she squeaks, feeling the pressure of her orgasm, "gonna - can i please - please-?!" she begs nonsensically, but he understands her - of course he does. she's his girl, after all.
"cum, sweetheart." he assures through gritted teeth, "who's making you cum?"
"y-you-" she cuts herself off with a cry as she cums, body stilling and legs trembling, as he continues to thrust and she rides out the orgasm.
he follows right after her, the squeeze of her cunt around sending his body into overdrive. collapsing on the bed beside her, the two remain silent for a minute to catch their breath.
finally, he clears his throat, getting up, and pulling her up, too. "go, clean up." he instructs, voice less gruff and softer, asking her to do something for her own good as opposed to his, "then change. don't think i can do another round right now." he knows that if he sees her in the outfit for longer, he'd get hard again.
with a woozy head, she does as he says. when she changes, though, she decides against the clothes that he bought her. she loves them, of course, but their either too coarse or flashy for night-time wear.
besides, they don't provide the precise comfort of stability that the flannel and boxers she puts on again does. though she tells herself she's not sure why joel's clothes seem more comforting than the new clothes, she's lying.
she feels more comfy in them because they smell and feel like him.
he's already knocked out when she exits, sleeping on his side, having evidently left the perfect amount of space for her to curl into his side, pulling his arm over to cradle her.
she knew he would always take care of her.
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tgcg · 5 months
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part 2 of something specific
CG: I’M GOING TO NEED TO WATCH THROUGH IT AGAIN TO REALLY HONE DOWN WHAT I THINK OF IT, BUT FUCK IT, I MIGHT AS WELL SHARE MY THOUGHTS NOW SINCE WE’RE FRESH OFF OF WATCHING IT.
CG: SO, THEY’RE ACTUALLY A REALLY FASCINATING EXAMPLE OF RED ROMANCE. I’D GO SO FAR AS TO SAY VERY SUBVERSIVE OF ALTERNIAN UNDERSTANDINGS OF THE SORT, COMPARED TO WHAT YOU’D USUALLY SEE IN FICTIONAL MEDIA. IT’S LEVELS ABOVE THE TYPE OF DYNAMICS I WOULD TYPICALLY SEE IN MY NOVELS, DISREGARDING THE QUALITY OF VACILLATIONS AND YOUR QUOTE-ENQUOTE “POLYAMORY” PRESENT. BECAUSE SAKURA’S POSITION IN THIS IS PRACTICALLY POINTLESS, BUT I DIGRESS.
CG: ACTUALLY — THAT WAS KIND OF FUCKED UP, BY THE WAY. WHY IS SHE WRITTEN SO POORLY?
TG: remember when i told you about misogyny
CG: I WILL NEVER FUCKING GET THAT. OUR MOST POWERFUL FIGURES WERE GENERALLY GIRLS. HOW THAT TRANSLATED SO FUCKING TERRIBLY IS BEYOND ME!
CG: AND HOW THE SHIT DID THE UNIVERSE *I* HAD A DIRECT HAND IN CREATING END UP BEING SO MIND-BOGGLINGLY BACKWARDS ABOUT ROMANCE?
CG: DID NOT EVEN AN ERRANT TRICKLE OF MY INFLUENTIAL THINKPAN OOZE MAKE IT THROUGH THERE? AT ALL?
TG: not even a droplet my man we decided to be equally anal about other stupid shit i guess
CG: NO KIDDING!
CG: ANYWAYS.
TG: if yall managed to get through that door and reign supreme over the human race for lip smackin eternity you know mens and womens would be macking on each other in various gender arrangements with gleeful wild abandon 
TG: itd be a goddamn utopia
CG: FUCKING EXACTLY! BUT INSTEAD I’M HERE. DOING THIS. WITH A GOD, UNIVERSE PENDING. INSTEAD OF BEING A GOD REIGNING OVER A UNIVERSE MYSELF.
CG: *ANYWAYS*!
CG: THEY START OUT WITH A RIVALRY, SURE, BUT THERE’S ACTUALLY NOTHING BLACK ABOUT IT. THEIR FEELINGS FOR EACH OTHER ARE STRICTLY POSITIVE, IF HIDDEN BEHIND A MORE AGGRESSIVE FACADE. THE VIOLENCE OF THEIR RELATIONSHIP BOTH COMES FROM THE SOCIETY THEY WERE RAISED INTO, AND SOME OF THEIR MAJOR CHARACTER FLAWS AND INSECURITIES. NARUTO IS FIERCELY DEFENSIVE OF ANYONE WHO JOINS HIS CIRCLE BECAUSE HE’S DESPERATE FOR CONNECTIONS, AND REFUSES TO LOSE THEM AT ANY COST EVEN IF THEY LEAVE SUPPOSEDLY OF THEIR OWN ACCORD. SASUKE SEPARATES HIMSELF FROM THE PEOPLE HE LOVES OUT OF FEAR – AND DESIRE FOR REVENGE AGAINST HIS BROTHER CONVINCING HIM THIS IS NECESSARY.
CG: LIKE, EVEN WITHIN THE FIRST MAJOR ARC IN THE LAND OF WAVES YOU CAN SEE THAT THEY CARE ABOUT EACH OTHER SO DEEPLY THAT SASUKE WOULD DIRECTLY SACRIFICE HIMSELF AND HIS POTENTIAL FOR NARUTO’S. AND BELIEVING SASUKE TO BE DEAD IS THE FIRST CATALYST TO NARUTO’S POWERS BEING RELEASED. THAT IS *REALLY* EXTREME. ESPECIALLY BY TROLL STANDARDS, BUT I UNDERSTAND KILLING PEOPLE IS A MUCH FUCKING LARGER DEAL PSYCHOLOGICALLY FOR HUMANS. THAT KIND OF REACTION TO DEATH WOULD ONLY BE RESERVED FOR A CURRENT OR POTENTIAL QUADRANTMATE… AND IS OTHERWISE ONLY EXPRESSED BY TROLLS WITH DISEASES.
TG: oh yeah like the friendship disease right
CG: UGH.
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lowgothree · 2 months
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002. ༺ONE MORE ROUND༻∘
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a/n: i'm spamming so bad so this is probably gonna be the last chapter for a few days cause i don't wanna be annoying lmao. how r y'all feeling about the series so far tho??
summary: after getting unexpectedly left by your roommate, you find yourself in need of a replacement.
contents: reader is down bad. paige in a situationship. kinda angsty.
previous. next. masterlist.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★
paige was a good enough roommate for the most part. you’d lived with her for a little over a month now and all you knew about her was pretty much that she wasn’t loud in the mornings, washed her dishes, cleaned up after herself, and paid the rent on time. she was quiet when she was home with just you. unless oliva was over.
“you always fucking do this!” oliva, paige’s…girlfriend? fuckbuddy? ex? whatever, yells. you can hear the sound of paige saying something along the lines of ‘stop yelling, i have a roommate’.
she thinks you’re sleeping but the truth is you’ve been up for hours, you were used to tina’s noise but paige and her what the fuck are they anyway? have been keeping you up. you’re in the kitchen, furthest room for paige’s and yet, somehow, you can still make out almost every word. you make yourself a sandwich, something to distract you from the noise. it doesn’t help. their dynamic confuses even you, they yell all the time and yet they’re always together and paige never calls her her girlfriend.
“i don’t give a fuck about your roommate!” she yells again, her shouting followed by even more shouting. they shout for so long that when they finally stop it nearly alarms you. oliva stomps out of the house, slamming the door shut behind her.  
you take another bite of your sandwich just as paige rounds the corner into the kitchen and pauses when she sees you. you pause yourself as you take her in, her beautiful eyes glossed over with anger, her hair down. she’s dressed casually, warm. a hoodie and sweatpants, that she makes look exquisite.
“thought you were asleep?” she clears her throat, looking embarrassed when she realizes that you heard the fight. you look away from her, a look of embarrassment covering your face too when she almost catches you thirsting over admiring her.
“kinda hard to sleep through all that…” you try and make light of the situation but it only makes her tense up.
“sorry…”
you smile at her shyly. “could be worse…my last roommate used to bring her boyfriends home and let’s just say…she was loud.”
that causes paige to laugh, it’s a lovely sound. attractive, just like every other part of her. she sits down in front of you at the table, a smile light on her lips but no longer showing teeth as her laughter dies down. “yeah, i get you…i had the same problem, actually.”
you smile knowingly, aside from when you first gave her the key last month, you and paige don’t really speak much aside from the slight comment here and there. 
you bit your lip as she smiled back at you, a sudden confidence growing within you that you’ll blame on the late hour come morning. “can i ask you something that i probably shouldn’t?”
her eyes widen a bit and she seems curious, slightly leaning forward across the table, elbows resting on the mahogany in front of her. “shoot.”
“you and olivia…?” you begin slowly but paige doesn’t even let you finish as she lets out a shaky breath.
“i don’t even know.” she laughs to herself, a little winded. “it’s like sometimes…she’s just like when i first met her and other times she’s this whole other person that i can’t stand.”
you listen to her every word with rapt attention, unsure if you’re trying to get to know her as her roommate or because you’re unbelievably attracted to her. 
“i mean…she’s been…temperamental for months now but she was never this bad at my old place. it’s like ever since i moved here and told her you were…” she stops herself, looking down at her hands.
“...what?” you tilt your head at her curiously, when she looks up at you again it’s like it’s for the first time.
“ever since i told her you liked girls.” she looks at you the entire time she says the sentence, sighing as she realizes why her….whatever has been acting the way she has.
“oh…i didn’t mean to be a problem.” you don’t break her eye contact. you’re physically unable to.
“you aren’t.” 
emphasizes on you. you know you shouldn’t be hanging onto it the way you are but you have a death grip like if you let go you’ll fall into despair.
she clears her throat and you take another bite of your sandwich. “want half?” you change the subject, feeling awkward under her gaze. she shrugs, grabbing your other sandwich half and mumbling a quick ‘thank you’. 
“do you love her?”
why the fuck did you just ask that? you groan internally, feeling embarrassed because you definitely overstepped but to your surprise she hums, still chewing the sandwich so she chews a little faster then swallows before answering.
“no…” she mutters. “i really don’t”
“so why are you with her?”
“i guess…” paige sighs, rolling her shoulders back. “i guess she’s all i really know. i mean, i’ve been with her basically since i very first found out i liked girls and i think i’m just more attached than anything.”
you squint. “wait…you’ve never been with another girl?”
you’re unsure of why she’s letting you ask her so many personal questions but you can’t help but keep them coming for as long as she’d let you. you want to know her.
“nope.” she takes another bite of the sandwich. “why does that shock you?”
because you’re so beautiful and i want you so obviously everyone else wants you too, is what you don’t say even though it’s exactly what you’re thinking. instead, you shrug. “i don’t know.”
if she even slightly believes you, her face doesn't show it. a look of suspicion coating her features...but she doesn’t push you. “well, it’s true. i mean, we’ve never technically dated but we act like it so…”
“why haven’t you?” you chuckle.
“‘cause she ‘doesn’t do labels’.” paige rolls her eyes, clearly feeling as though that’s bullshit. “i mean…she doesn’t wanna be my girlfriend but she acts like i can’t be around anyone else. she’s so jealous cause i’m living with you.”
jealous? of you? that makes you way happier than you’re gonna admit.
“i see why though…you are beautiful.” her words bring you pause yet again.
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storm-priestess · 2 years
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•´*¨`*•✿ • THEIR LATE NIGHT THOUGHTS ABOUT YOU • ✿•*¨`*•.
(some messages are 18+)
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(pictures taken from weheartit)
♡ Pile 1 ♡
for some reason the phrase "you're my last hope" came to mind, but that's something they wouldn't ever say out loud…
the sun came out first!! yall know wassup
nothing but good things about you, truly
they picture you looking down at them? not in a condescending way, but in a… they'll be going down on you type of way
you have such control over this person, but they feel like you're too far away sometimes. like you're too good for them. they may know that you have a lot of options and consider themselves not the most obvious choice
anyway… lot of tit action here. a scene comes to mind where you use your hands to push them down to their knees, and on their way they're met with your breasts in their face. their eyes just pop wide open, and they're completely transfixed before you push them farther down…
man I need to do a reading about how your person is in bed, this is heading towards that direction lmao
they want to give you things, make you feel content, offer their love and material objects to show you that they're worthy of your affection
they want to hold themselves back, put your pleasure first before anything else
alternatively this could be a friends with benefits situation where they are catching feelings but perceive you as all about the sex, unwilling to give them commitment
they're feeling a bit weary tbh, as if they've already given up on you feeling the same. if this is something you want from them, consider going for it!!
yeah no, they're being blinded by their doubts, picking at all the moments where you turned away or didn't listen to them, ignoring times where you might have showed genuine interest
they want to build something with you, something that will last a while
it seems like you have this person, if you want them
♡ Pile 2 ♡
they feel like they need to fight for you, and that thrills them… but is there something behind that adrenaline that will sustain a long-term connection?
it's hard to say, but they definitely feel like they do. the king of pentacles came out, as did the queen
they think that you guys are a match, but there's some obstacle in the way that, as bad as it could be, thrills them. they love the romance of conquering a beast for their beloved
very fast-paced and passionate. I feel like they might have a tendency to romanticize small things or overthink them, too, but they do dream of the practical side as well. romanticizing a life with you
Pisces energy?
also I feel like they were hurt before, and that could be clouding their vision a bit
this person is prepared to offer you commitment, but perhaps might not be thinking with a clear head rn. I would suggest you take your time and feel things out before continuing down that road. or don't! it's your life ;)
you came into this person's life unexpectedly, or they grew feelings for you out of the blue, and it hit them like a truck.
they think about all they could do for you, all they could offer you, and the romance and comfort they could get in return
they dream of fucking you hard and fast, making any place you decide to curl up together your own little world
very kinky? 100% into butt stuff, and is willing to try anything once
again, they're ready to go anytime but want it to be a bit mysterious, like pulling you to the bathroom in a fancy restaurant. the only thing is I feel like they're much less inconspicuous then they think they are, not really in dragging you away but more so the dopey grin on their face after
a bit of a simp, if I'm to be honest
♡ Pile 3 ♡
you seem a bit younger than them, there's also a sense of 'waiting for you'... if you guys are under 18 and dealing with someone over 18, then first of all you aren't supposed to be reading this pac, and second of all this is a dangerous situation with bad dynamics and you need to get out asap. the rest of this reading will be geared towards those where this is NOT the case.
they see you as pure and chaste, maybe you're not the type to respond to raunchy jokes, or try and keep it to yourself. they rarely get to see a side of you that isn't either polished or innocent
either way, there is a certain elegance to you, and you're quite in touch with your sense of wonder and imagination. you may be amazed by small things, or act very excited when you're around them. in contrast, they are more jaded so this is like a drug to them
you could also be from a small town and them a city or perhaps they travel a lot, either way they somehow have more experience then you
which leads me to their late night thoughts
they want to play with you, show off their knowledge of sex and discover that you know more then you let on
they love the idea that you may secretly be a freak in the sheets and not let on to it at all, only to be underneath them and show them exactly how experienced you are
this is less bc they want you to take the lead, and more they want to be presented with a bit of a challenge.
maybe they can sense that you are a bit restrained around them? they want you to bite back when they tease you, but you deflect or take the high road? they're not really upset by that, but they fantasize about you finally returning the blows and sticking it to them
Scorpio vibes, for sure
the biggest thing for them is hearing your inner thoughts, inner desires, you saying what you're really thinking, ESPECIALLY if it's not what they would expect. they feel like there's more to you that they're not seeing, and they. want. to. see. it. ALL.
very deep, intimate, and emotional, but it does have a core of curiosity and light-heartedness. at the end of the day, they just want you to not hold back. tell them that you don't agree with their stance, or that you 'actually don't like pistachio ice cream, but thank you for ordering me something anyway,' you know?
they crave honesty, no walls up between you guys
so, of course, they think about stripping all the barriers between you too when the sun goes down
they want you to go down too, btw, and they'll return the favor. heads up tho, they expect a little bit of backtalk if they order you around… just a lil ;)
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genericpuff · 2 months
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Just saw your response to someone asking about plot points you hate. Can I ask why you don't like Athena/Hestia? From what I remember (take this with a grain of salt because while I've read the whole comic it's more in a junk food, read and forget til next time kind of thing)
From what I remember it's not a huge plot point? Like its just kinda.. there? It doesn't really impact much of the story at large.
Also I agree with the hades/thanatos thing, that's kinda odd and it doesn't make hades any better or more sympathetic of a protagonist. If I remember right, doesn't he abandon thanatos or push him away?
I have issues with the Hestia x Athena plotline the same way I have issues with the Hera x Echo plotline. It all feels shoehorned in for the sake of seeming 'inclusive' towards gay relationships, but gets next to no actual development or screentime aside from the odd lip service meant to benefit Rachel.
Especially when Hestia and Athena were already embraced as LGBTQ+ icons to begin with and didn't need to be shipped together to make it possible. Rachel has a really hard time comprehending aroace identities and this is present even back in her Tumblr days-
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If Hestia and Athena are still supposed to be at least ace in LO then we haven't seen any indication of that. So it just makes them look hypocritical as fuck for running the "virgins only club" that is TGOEM (and even going so far as to punish Persephone for being around Hades by confiscating his gift to her) and that unfortunately makes them look like really terrible people which isn't a great look for the only lesbian couple in the story (at least until Eros and Hera were established but whether or not they're an actual couple now or if that was just a one time kiss scene remains to be seen). Like even the reveal that they're together is Artemis figuring it out and then being pissed that she's the "only one following the rules", not them coming out about it on their own terms.
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Also no, the Hestia x Athena plotline wasn't as big as the other plotlines, but it was one of the ones that felt so out of left field and forced when it was first established. Plus I'd just love for them to be aroace rep again, there are characters who are legitimate gay icons that got erased so that Rachel could retroactively shove it into other characters without any reasoning or relevance to the plot.
I honestly wouldn't have been so salty about the Hestia x Athena plotline if it were just written better (and if it didn't reek of aroace erasure) and that goes for a lot of the queer relationships in LO, because so many of them are only given the tiniest ounces of screentime, enough for Rachel to take credit for being "inclusive" but not enough for her to actually have a diverse cast. Morpheus is the most consistently present character we've gotten for LGBTQ+ rep and now even she's been fridged :/
Anyways, as for Hades and Thanatos, yeah, the retcon that Hades was a 'father figure' to Thanatos the whole time seems like it was purely written in to make Thanatos look like a hypocrite for having very reasonable concerns regarding the special treatment being given to Persephone at work. But then Rachel had to actually resolve that plotline so in S3 she had Hades approach Thanatos in search of his brother just for them to have a weak 'heart to heart' where Thanatos took the blame for being a 'handful' and Hades trauma dumped and never really took accountability for everything. The fact that we're supposed to believe they have a father-son dynamic really makes the first season gross to read because the whole time Hades is legitimately treating Thanatos like scum. It absolutely does NOT make Hades more likeable, even with the attempt to 'redeem' him which really just made him look like an even bigger asshole u.u
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tubbytarchia · 25 days
Note
i think a lot about scott in regards to both jimmy and pearl. like. i feel like not a lot of scott fans want to talk abt the fact that he’s actually very clever and manipulative and cowardly and just not very good!!
and it’s just something abt the fact that jimmy and pearl are some of the most loyal and loving people on earth. and yet they didn’t want him back. when scott asked jimmy to kill tango of all people. he said you should run. when he told jimmy to say i love you he said you have 30 seconds. and then it happened again. in secret life he told pearl he loved her and she wouldn’t say it back
i am just so in love with it. the fact that scott used jimmy and pearl and then tried to win them back after they didn’t need him anymore. the fact that he left his first two beloved partners in the series with a permanent bad taste in their mouth. i think he changed both their characters irreversibly and that they did the same to him and i needddd jimmy and pearl to talk about it
Yeees anon YESSSSSS you understand...
It's nothing I haven't expressed already, but the combination of serious topics like manipulation attributed to a minecraft series and Scott being the culprit of it makes it kinda taboo to talk about for a lot of people so I'm not surprised that people don't! (Scott being part of LGBTQ and thus attributing negative traits to his character makes you "insensitive" and such, unless you turn it into an AU lol, then it's fine apparently) And if these people are here just for something carefree and the CCs more than the characters, that's absolutely fine! And as I've also said before, Scott is a very compelling character to me and I absolutely don't hate him no matter the things I think he's done to change Jimmy and Pearl for the worse. I wanna know who hurt him...
But as far as my perception goes of the characters etc, yeah, it's this. Scott is terribly clever and skilled and frightfully good at manipulating whether he always intends to or not (he's more or less admitted to it anyhow). He's not often explicit but the kind of language he uses around Jimmy makes Jimmy feel talked down to, or that he's to blame for things, etc, and then sweetens it up with claims of caring. Statements that basically go "I do this for your own good" and such. He was obviously more explicit about it with Pearl but that doesn't make it any better haha
Jimmy's attitude towards Scott after third life is such an interesting thing to analyze and I'm so happy of his feelings manifesting more. In Double Life Scott had it out for the ranch and ofc Jimmy did what he could to defend the ranch's image etc, but oh boy, the LimL "you have 30 seconds" moment... Also when Jimmy was about to kill Scott for the time that Scott promised him, Scott said "I love you" again and "it's fine even though you didn't say it back" (paraphrasing) and Jimmy just fucking stays silent before going "appreciate it" and shooting him. Very fire of him. That made me so happy lmao. And him taking gradual enjoyment out of hitting Scott in Secret Life (as he deserves to). And the further moments you brought up, and now what happened in Real Life even if it was a one-off SMP. I hope he keeps going like this lol
There is the time in Secret Life where Jimmy seems to project onto Pearl in telling her to attack Skizz and be mean about it, sigh..m they just need to sit down and talk. I need this so desperately. They just need to get talking and it'll all work out from there, they can do it, I believe in them...
Either way both of them refusing Scott's approaches is the best thing ever. Scott should team up with people like Gem more instead who aren't affected by his bullshit anyway and also just make for fun dynamics
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piggyjeans · 1 year
Note
Omgg okay sine you are doing platonic asks I have a request. They are all in Jackson and Ellies steals or something like that some alcohol and she and readers drink it and get drunk and Joel catches them and goes all dad on them and grounds them? <3
Half empty (request)
Requested by: anonymous
Pairings: Ellie Williams x platonic!reader, Joel miller x platonic!reader
Warnings: vomiting, underage drinking, mentions of abuse but no abuse is written. Insecurity in relationships and just sadness yassss
A/n: I wrote something omg! This might need a second part? I wanted to get it out as soon as possible bc I’m going away for my friends bday and wanted to put it out yesterday but I’ve been busy af. So sorry if this is rushed it’s not proof read and I can do another part if it’s necessary! Anyway I love Ellie and I got drunk last night so I’m really fucking hungover rn and sleepy so I’m sorry if this is shit but yeah I had a little Ellie moment underage drinking yusss ianyway enjoy yusasssssssssssss:)):):):)::)
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“No, Ellie. Absolutely not,” You say, turning your back to her. You two are usually on the same wavelength and agree to do the same things, but sometimes Ellie’s naivety becomes too much for you. You’ve seen more than she has despite being the same age as her. And much to Ellie’s demise, though she would never admit this, you know better.
“C'mon, y/n! It's Friday night! We never do anything fun anymore. We always just sit and do the same thing. Read dead people's journals, play board games, or sometimes go to the movies. God, last week you even did your homework on Friday night! You’re becoming too accustomed to domestic life. Don’t you miss it being a little crazy,” Ellie questions you, the way she always does. Sometimes you can’t even keep up with what she’s saying.
You narrow your eyes, looking dumbfounded as you turn to face her, “miss it being a little crazy? What, like when we were almost devoured by clickers? When we were almost murdered by raiders? When we had to aid Joel back to life-“ you begin to list off the things that had happened in the past few months just to remind Ellie, but she cut you off with a waving hand in your face before you could continue.
“Not that. Like…” she pauses to sigh, “when we played soccer with Sam in that bunker. All the cool things we saw when we were traveling, the stars when we slept under the open sky, or when Joel let us try his whiskey,” she shrugs.
You don’t want to admit it. You don’t want to say you miss that, because it was the most exhausting thing you’ve ever done. It was the hardest thing you’ve ever done, and you lost so much because of it. But you couldn’t help feeling a little nostalgia for that portion of your life. You, Joel, and Ellie, were all each other had. And as much as it was hard having only each other to rely on, with this weird dynamic going on, it was nice only having each other. It was a simpler time and a part of you missed when things were like that.
But you wouldn’t say that to Ellie. Some part of you always told yourself you had to be strong around her. You couldn’t be vulnerable with Ellie or Joel. You’re Ellie’s best friend, and she’s something of a little sister to you despite only being a few weeks younger than you. You always felt the need to protect her, especially since the whole point of the trip that changed your life was to deliver her to make this vaccine.
And with Joel, well, you didn’t know what to make of your relationship with him. You wanted to seem strong and mature around him, so as to be respected by him, and it’s gotten you this far, so why show your true colors now? He sees you as an equal somehow. You see how he looks at Ellie, with some sort of paternal love in his eyes. But you tried to treat him as a peer instead of someone you needed to look up to.
You felt selfish for that little part of you that missed being out in the open world with Ellie and Joel. You were safe here, and happy. You had enough to eat, you got to learn, and you even have a healthy comfortable home, and friends your age. You’re not fighting for your life, so what’s there to miss?
So you shrugged in response to Ellie. “I’m thankful for how far we’ve come.”
“Bullshit. You used to be fun! What happened to you,” she pushed you. You sighed deeply as an older sibling would. You partly agreed with Ellie, you did use to have more fun with her. You two got into trouble all the time when you first got to Jackson. But you felt bad making Joel parent the both of you, so you eventually stopped agreeing to do things with Ellie. You did become accustomed to domesticity. But it was a good life.
You look up at her and smile softly, “what’s your plan, Ellie,” you say slowly. A part of you is excited to let loose a little. She smiles the biggest, toothiest grin you’ve seen from her in a long time. She looks how she did before everything happened.
“Okay, Joel is in town, so his stuff is unguarded. And I just so happen to know where he keeps his whiskey,” Ellie says in a mischievous voice, your mouth immediately falls agape.
Before she had time to continue with her master plan, you cut her off, “Ellie, are you fucking crazy? I thought you would want to go for a night walk or like, I don’t know, play a prank on the kids in town watching a movie. Stealing Joel’s whiskey,” you breathe out sharply, unable to compute. You couldn’t imagine doing that to Joel. You could only imagine the pressure that he’s under with the two of you and you would never purposefully add more to his plate.
“Y/n, please? He wouldn’t even notice. He’s been so busy lately that he’ll probably just forget about it altogether, and he can go get more now,” she says, giving her infamous Ellie puppy dog eyes. It’s hard to say no to her, especially when you feel so much for her and your mind automatically goes back to Everything that she’s gone through.
You shake your head and look away, “what if he notices,” you say quietly, allowing yourself to slip out of that fearless front for a quick moment.
“Y/n, he’s like seventy years old, also if he does notice anything, it’s just Joel,” she says with a shrug. Yeah. Just Joel. Just Joel who you’ve spent so much of your energy trying to impress. Just Joel who brought you two across the country safe and alive, somehow. Just Joel who you owe your life to.
You look up at her emotionlessly and nod slowly. “Go get it.”
Ellie returns to your room a few minutes later with Joel’s whisky bottle which has half of its contents left. “It’s half full, this will be enough to get us drunk, right,” she says as she tears the cap of the bottle off.
“Half empty,” you say as you examine the bottle, before taking a hefty swig of it. “Jesus!”
“How is it,” Ellie says with her classic naive and interested expression on her face. “It’s whisky,” you say stubbornly, before handing her the bottle. She takes a sip and tries her hardest not to cough, but it’s too strong for her. After she swallows what’s in her mouth, she starts coughing like a maniac and you cringe, patting her on the back. “Get it together, partner. There’s more where that came from.”
-
After twenty minutes, you two are sitting on your bedroom floor chatting normally. Or boringly, as Ellie put it. This whiskey was taking forever to kick in, you almost wanted to pull your homework out of your bag and start to do it right then and there. Suddenly, Ellie exclaims loudly.
“What the fuck is taking so long! I’m putting my tastebuds through hell just to sit here sober,” she says with an exasperated voice. You smile at her softly and take a breath, just feeling tired, “I’m bored,” you say.
“Me too,” she says, throwing herself back onto the floor. “Should we go do something?”
You shrug, “it’s better than sitting here doing nothing,” you say. The alcohol must be affecting you because otherwise you would have thought logically about this. The two of you got up and exited your room, and then the house. It was a bit of a walk to the town from your house, but with the bottle of whisky coming along for the ride, it was definitely entertaining.
On the walk to the town, you definitely started feeling it. Your vision became gradually more blurry, you had to focus on walking straight, and for some reason, Ellie’s loud mouth was a lot funnier to you than it usually is.
“What do you call a chicken who crossed the road?”
You look up into the night sky, focusing on the stars as you try to guess what the punchline of this joke is gonna be. Before you’re able to guess, Ellie corrects herself, “Fuck, I messed it up,” she snorts as the two of you start laughing uncontrollably as you’re walking up the uphill road.
“Ellie, you’re so funny,” you say between chuckles, as you wipe the tears of laughter off your cheeks. “You make everything so funny and fun. You're so funny,” you smile as you messily gush over her. You feel so much love for her, but when in your everyday life while you're sober, you don't know how to tell her that. The two of you aren’t very expressive about your emotions with each other.
You look over at her and see her smiling softly and looking down. You can’t tell if she’s embarrassed or if she’s just taking in what you’re saying. You wonder if you’re going to remember this in the morning as the town lights come into view.
Ellie sighs, shoving her hands into her jacket pockets. “Where are we going,” she turns to look at you. You shrug, “tipsy bison?”
You guys head for the restaurant, unsure of what your plans are for when you get there. You’re not thinking very far ahead. You’re just living in the moment talking to Ellie about things that don’t even make sense.
Walking into town on a Friday night made you remember why people always wait for Friday. Why people always rave about Friday. The lights on around the buildings in town and the quiet chatter coming from people with busy, happy lives is a beautiful sight to see. And you miss going out as much. You miss interacting with people. You miss live being unpredictable, or even having a little bit of fun. It makes you sad to think about, so you wrap your arm around Ellie’s shoulder.
She puts her arm around your figure and you push the door to the tipsy bison open with your foot. Most people stay engaged in conversation, but some heads turn to you. You’re not worried though, you just continue your conversation with Ellie as you walk up to the bar, “I don’t understand how it works, like, yeah, atoms or whatever but it’s just weird that we grow and expand into nothing… like it’s just air I don’t-“
“Y/n? Ellie,” You hear a familiar voice question from behind you. You abruptly end your not very intellectual conversation and turn to Ellie and widen your eyes dramatically before turning to face the figure behind you. It’s Joel and he doesn’t look that surprised to see you.
“Hi Joel,” Ellie says with a big smile as she waved to him. You wave awkwardly after you see Ellie do it, figuring that’s the appropriate thing to do. He narrows his eyes, walking closer to you guys. He lifts his hand up slowly to wave but something in him decided against it, he only lifts it halfway before dropping it.
“I thought you guys said you were staying in tonight,” he says looking between the two of you who are awkwardly standing like puppies who have obviously done something wrong. Ellie shrugs, looking to you to respond this time.
You take a moment to collect your thoughts, “we were hungry.”
He squints his eyes at you slightly but corrects himself soon thereafter. “Do we not have any food left at the house?”
You shrug, this time looking to Ellie to answer. Maybe you should’ve just taken this one, because Ellie bursts out, “please don’t be mad, Joel!”
You let your mouth fall agape at her sudden outburst and quickly scan the room to see if everyone heard that, surprisingly not a lot of people are phased by Ellie, which is weird because she sounds like the loudest person in the room to you. You try to read Joel’s expression but somehow his face remains blank. After maybe five seconds of silence, Joel suddenly pushes the two of you towards the door, you kick it open once more, quickly shuffling out the door.
After the three of you are out of the restaurant, he walks in front of you both, as to get a good look at your red, hot faces. “Are you guys drunk,” he asks in a panicked voice.
“No,” Ellie says.
You stay silent.
“Y/n?”
Suddenly feeling bile rise to your throat, you lean over into the bushes in front of your favorite restaurant. You violently vomit onto the ground. You don’t focus on much except for the burning in your throat. But you can feel someone’s hand on your back and someone pulling your hair back out of your face. You’re guessing that’s not Ellie, because the only other thing you can register is her voice getting rapidly further away as she exclaims, “ew! Gross! Holy shit!”
You just keep throwing up. It’s painful and you can feel tears running down your face. Suddenly the sick feeling in your stomach feels like something similar to guilt and shame. You try to not feel this often. You used to be someone who put yourself in bad situations because you wanted to be helpful or respected. But long before you met Ellie or Joel, you changed your ways and tried to be someone who didn’t have anything to regret. Someone who made mature decisions, since you didn’t have anyone on your side to defend you. In this moment, you know you’ve become too comfortable.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you sob between gags. You hate yourself for crying in front of them. You can hear someone telling you it’s okay. Saying over and over again it’s okay, it’s okay y/n. You don’t expect to look up and see it coming out of Joel’s mouth. Even though he’s reassuring you that you’re okay, his expression says otherwise. He looks mad. He hasn’t looked this mad in a long time. This makes you cry harder as the vomit forces it’s way out of your stomach.
You continue to apologize while vomiting and don’t even know where Ellie is, until at one point you hear Joel yell at Ellie to sit in the snow and not move. This brightens your mood a little bit, as you think it’s funny that Ellie’s getting told off. You can’t help but giggle, followed by a hiccup as you bring your hand up to your mouth, subconsciously begging your brain to let you have a break from the vomit.
“Hey, fuck you, y/n,” Ellie yells at you loudly through her slurred words as you continue to giggle. “Ellie,” Joel forcefully says back at her as she sits motionlessly in the snow. She doesn’t react, just sits there with an angry look on her face. She doesn’t seem like a fun drunk.
“Are you finished,” Joel says softly, leaning down to your level as you’re breathing heavily. You burp quietly before saying, “I think.” The owner of the tipsy bison comes outside and throws his hands up in the air, scoffing at Joel. “I’m sorry man, I’m sorry,” he says, taking your shoulders and leading you back towards your house. “Come Ellie.”
-
At some point on the walk back, Ellie started crying too. She just kept saying she was sorry, she was stupid, she was sorry, she wouldn’t ever do it again. Joel stopped answering a while ago. Helping you walk and yelling at Ellie to keep up when she fell to far behind. That made her cry harder.
“What did you drink,” he asked at one point, his voice staying steady and strong. Ellie starts to answer, but you cut her off before she get the two of you in more trouble than you already are in. “It was my idea. I traded with my friend from school.”
Ellie just looks at you. The two of you make eye contact for a long time, silently, only hearing your footsteps under you. Joel doesn't answer. He doesn't say anything for the rest of the walk. Ellie keeps sniffling and complaining about her legs hurting, despite the house being in your view at this point.
Once you arrive home, you sit on the couch motionlessly. In your mind, you feel like if you’re still enough you could disappear into the couch cushion and wake up tomorrow in a reality where none of this ever happened. Hoping you won’t have to face the consequences of your actions.
You hear Joel sigh as he pulls the door of Ellie’s room shut quietly. You follow his dark shadow with your eyes slowly. You accidentally sniffle and through the dark, you can see Joel’s figure jump. He quickly clicks on the lantern on the side table.
“Jesus, y/n,” he says, rubbing his eyebrows together, wearing a tired expression.
“I'm sorry.”
Joel starts to say something but stops himself. Taking a deep breath and standing still for a moment. Before coming closer to you. You expect him to hit you, you would even understand if he beat you senselessly and threw you out of the house.
But he just stands above you as you sit on the couch for a few more seconds before taking a deep breath and starting. “You're smart, y/n. You know better.”
You try not to react. You try to keep a still, blank face like you usually do. But it's difficult this time. You already failed once tonight and you feel like you're on the verge of breaking again. You don't say anything.
“I know you care about Ellie, so why would you put her in this situation,” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest. You wish you could be honest with him, you wish you could tell him everything that's going on in your mind, but something is keeping you from doing that. This man isn't your father, and he obviously doesn't want to be. It's hard for you to connect with him, and you don't think he has any interest in doing that anyway.
“You know, my birthday was yesterday,” you say emotionlessly. There's no way for him to have known that, and you don't feel upset that he didn't know. You don't feel upset that Ellie didn't know and you don't feel upset that no one knew, because that part of your life is over. Your parents are gone and so is anyone who loved you before, so you don't have a reason to hold what happened to you against anyone. You just want him to know.
“You’re right. I shouldn’t have put her in this situation, and I do know better.”
You don’t know what to make of this situation. You don’t know how to connect with him.
You just keep crying. You want to stop crying but you don’t know how. You don’t know what you’re trying to say, you just wish he knew. You shake your head. “You’re right,” you repeat yourself.
He sighs and rubs his eyes. Seemingly tired from the long day, or week, or months that he has had. Maybe even years. You know you and Ellie aren’t helping and that makes you feel worse. But he draws a long breath in. “Get up,” he says with the same blank face. You get up, not wanting to make anything worse than it has to be.
When he moved his hand you expect him to reach out and hurt you, but he wraps his arms around your small figure and gives you a long hug. This was your first hug. You two barely talk, the only thing the two of you had in common was ellie. Sometimes you felt so out of place. You felt like you didn’t belong and you were tagging along with the two of them. But you tried to brush those feelings off so you didn’t have to think about it.
“Go to sleep. We can talk about this when you feel better.”
He pulls out of the hug and doesn’t look at you. Instead starts to walk to his room, but he stops and says one last thing before going up the stairs.
“Wake Ellie up in the morning and tell her that you two are going to the tispy bison to clean the flower pots and planters first thing. And you're apologizing to the owner.”
-
Let me know if I should start a the last of us tag list and if u wanna be added
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noahmullariii · 14 days
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I've been thinking about how much I adore Tonks and Remus' dynamic but physically cannot ship them because my brain is being weird about their fucking age gap. this is so frustrating. they would have been so lovely for me if Tonks was like at least 27 in 5th book. Ronks (yeah I'm not calling it Remadora, Tonks hates her birth name ffs) would have been my ride-or-die alongside Jily and Wolfstar for sure.
because literally nothing else that Ronks antis consider deal breakers for them matters to me - not the fumbled way they get together in canon, not them getting married so quickly, not Tonks getting pregnant, not the assumed queer-coding of both characters (which I personally see, don't get me wrong. but it's assumed and who the fuck says they can't be queer4queer anyway?). sure, the nuclear family narrative being pushed so quickly and thoroughly onto them is peculiar but who says they didn't want to make the most of their time during a war? I love wartime drama and they would have been my shit if it weren't for... well. Tonks being 22 and Remus 35 when they meet.
I just can't ship big age gaps unless the youngest character is closer to 30 than 20. which is infuriating, because Ronks is objectively more fascinating because of their gap. my fucking loss, don't you think?
anyway, after thinking of ways I can make Tonks older without hurting the story, I began wondering whether her age is narratively important, and yes, turns out it very much is - for Harry.
Tonks being 22 in order of phoenix makes her the closest of Order members to Harry's age (Weasley twins don't count because they're Ron's brothers first, order members second for Harry) and the one Order member Harry can relate to the most in his youth and desire to fight. She almost perfectly parallels marauders and Lily in first war and represents the fun of the fight, the fire of youth, the confidence of a new recruit, the safety of relatability for Harry. She's one of the biggest inspirations for his newfound dream of becoming an auror. Harry needs Tonks among those older, battle-worn, cautious, secretive adults who don't take him seriously and never look him in the eye, because he wants to be what she is even before realising it and only reflects on it after spending time with her.
all in all, Tonks being 22 matters quite a lot for Harry's story.
now, we have no way of knowing whether Joanne came up with Ronks storyline prior to Tonks' introduction, but it shouldn't matter for their relationship, not in Joanne's opinion - Tonks' youth already fulfilled its narrative role in order of phoenix and stopped being an important asset of her character in half-blood prince.
oh, but unfortunately it still matters in the grand scheme of things, Joanne. you don't just introduce a young adult character (I'm 21 myself and gods, 22/23 is barely more mature), chuck their established age out the window and pair them up with a character in their mid-to-late thirties. and of fucking course it makes sense for a 23 year old to be down bad for some scruffy 36 year old man, it's incredibly realistic! this 36 year old man acting upon such crush is a little questionable, but still realistic (and we know Remus is very flawed, so I'm not surprised). but you know what isn't realistic at all?
Molly - a 46 year old woman, married to her high school sweetheart, mother to 7 children, 3 of which are close to Tonks' age - being extremely supportive of actually engaging in that sort of relationship, going as far as reprimanding Remus for not committing to it. I'm sorry, what? Molly might have some flaws as a mother, but she is nothing if not protective of her kids and those in their age range. She genuinely becomes somewhat of a mother figure for Tonks during their time in the Order, and I just cannot for the life of me understand how Molly could encourage her to pursue Remus and vice-versa, instead of consoling Tonks in her tragic crush and making sure Remus doesn't even look at her like that.
Minerva - an even older woman who taught both Remus and Tonks at Hogwarts, witnessed Remus becoming an adult from his graduation in 1978 up until 1981, then saw an 11 year old Tonks start Hogwarts 3 years later in 1984 - chiding Remus for not being "brave" enough to commit to such relationship. first of all, why the fuck is she involved in that narrative at all? it's none of her business??? she's not in any pseudo parenting role for either of them, unlike Molly, so I never understood why she even has a place to voice her opinion about their romance. second of all, even if it was her business, Minerva - a professor who witnessed both Remus and Tonks grow up so many years apart - would realistically feel pretty weird about such relationship.
those aren't problems with the ship itself, but rather the way Joanne implemented their romance in the story. I think it would be more realistic if Ronks was some kind of fucked up forbidden romance from other characters' perspectives. the way everybody is so instantly supportive of them is quite jarring to me.
interestingly, when I read hp for the first time at 11 I was quite adamant in my belief that Tonks was in love with Molly up until that scene in half-blood prince. a very weird belief for a kid, I know. I just only liked girls at the time and was relating to Tonks quite a bit since her introduction, so I guess I unconsciously decided she was a lesbian even without knowing that term yet. I also had a crush on my teacher in 4th grade and she was quite similar to Molly... yeah, this girl was projecting too much. I didn't pick up on Remus' queer-coding until I fell down the rabbit hole of lgbt discourse at 14, but was pretty shocked to read about Tonks falling for a man at 11. she was so like me until she wasn't :) it's pretty funny to think about now.
in conclusion, I'm hella jealous of those of you who don't have weird brains and can enjoy Ronks to their fullest potential. their canon writing has its issues but they're more interesting for it, truly. I'll stay in my no fun corner, headcanoning them as lavender married, queer-platonic, bisexual besties co-parenting Teddy Alastor Tonks.
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anthruser · 2 months
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SHAMELESS OPINIONS: S7 (cause Mickey's write off hurt and after s5, I watched again from s1 and forced myself to keep watching + no one around me likes Shameless so I need a place to vent)
overall: i actually loved it, had me pretty hooked all throughout
ok, i kind of like s7 Trevor, he's charming, got this lil sassy banter going off, he's cute and nice y'know. I just *HATE* that they so obviously tried to recreate some dynamics he had with Mickey straight away without letting us warmup to him, how can you deepthroat aspects built from 5 seasons into half of one??? No. Sorry. Him settling so quickly into the Gallagher house as if he's spent a decade there, idk. And the patient scene with Ian? foh man, no. 1x09 was special for a reason, and this would've played differently if Ian actually came to Mick if he was still around. They play out so much better as friends or fw/b ig but that deepthroat can't help me see a relationship between them. Not liking s8 Trevor so far, my god. Also his nonchalant attitude towards Monica threw me off. I get it, he's new and doesn't know much, Ian never mentioned her before apparently, but like "she's a lil crazy i can like her" eek, idk. Like almost downplaying his situation with her.
Caleb can suck my ass along with JW and his hate for bisexuals. My bi ass cannot approve. Cheater McCheater my ass. I can almost walk through Ian's ignorance cause for all he knew, Caleb was just gay, and I feel he said the bisexual thing out of frustration and betrayal towards his actions than actual disdain for the orientation, but yes. He was ignorant in his convo with Lip, and so was him anyway. I guess they just didn't know it is a thing. But thing is, I BET YOU ASSES that Caleb is the type of douche to STILL justify his actions even if JW didn't display his hate towards bisexuality in his writing, he just is *that* douchy. At least he motivated Ian to get his job, I'll give him that.
OH MY GOD THE THROUPLE... AND ITS SLOW BURN. it's hard cause you can understand both sides of the situation and it was just a clear issue of misunderstandings and miscommunication... I just wish they could've handled things better because I was really rooting for them. They fucking worked so well, with their little schedules and organization. I have such a fat crush on Isidora it's actually embarrassing. Anyway... I miss their dynamic. They deserved better.
Lip was a dick to Fiona about the Laundromat, but Fiona also just jumps the gut to these impulsive decisions, and I get that if she does ask for opinions, they probably won't agree with her, and it's not like I can blame lip, I mean look at the Club situation, yeah she made profit, but didn't break even, and that where his worry comes from. But at least, if she still approached him, and did it anyway against his say, he can't rub it in her face that this entails a family meeting and she can't just make those decisions without consultation. Overall, Lip was so arrogant and dickish with her, and for what... he couldn't even bring the money he so desperately wanted her to believe he could.
I love Sue. I just love EMT Ian stuff with all my life, idc what it is, I kick my feet cause he's so happy.
I fucking loved Carl and Mr. Luthers dynamic. Such an epic lil duo tbh.
I loved Frank's storyline here fsr 💀💀 it's so silly and he gets his way like always, but idk, I loved seeing his adventures at the shelter, he still remains a POS that's for sure.
I fucking LOVED seeing Debbie this season, I was a little disappointed last season cause there is so much lost potential on her pregnancy journey last time with where she was staying, but I fucking loved her here and putting her scamming skills to the test. Don't love how she ends up treating Neil in s8 cause... Well, I just feel bad for him, but also, if she really wanted to stay true to her convenience relationship, she probably should've stuck it out more so it lasted more, idk. But enough of that, I loved her setting a goal for herself at the end of the season, and I honestly commend Monica for helping her get Franny out of the house, I understand Derek's family's concern but they were so cunty in how they handled things.
Monica's death hit me like a truck... Idk why, there are so many mixed emotions here, she couldn't dare to tell the kids the real reason she was there, and all she wanted was to be there one last time. My heart goes out to her tbh.
Gallavich. Oh dear God. FERAL, FERAL EVERY TIME. it's like receiving crumbs and eating them up like a vacuum, nothing I can say that hasn't already been said... I just... Wow. Fuck. And to know that, after needing Noel for ratings, that this was gonna be the end for them? No, I could throw up. I couldn't imagine watching shameless as it aired with that knowledge in mind. FUCK ME THOSE TWO EPISODES I ATE THEM UUUP. anyway, I'm normal about Gallavich.
Lord bless Etta... my dear soul. 7x11 was vicious for that, my heart crumbled fr. I can see this was all in Fiona's best interest for Etta and stuff... It was just so sad to see.
Lip and Sierra, I don't really know what people's opinions are about Sierra but I kind of liked her? She was sweet, and had traces of boundaries with Lip even if the fucker attempted to break them every now and then. But she was sweet.
Lips second spiral was even harder than the first one to see. Him crashing at Helene's apartment, and she still doesn't seem to grasp that she essentially groomed him, and he's just so devastated still. Fuck.
That ending montage was truly a piece of cinema I tell you. It was beautiful.
I probably have more to say I don't remember but I really liked s7, not on the priority of a constant rewatch, but it was really good...and truly served as the finale it was meant to be. EXCEPT FOR GALLAVICH, holy fuck that would've pained the whole audience.
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ashersanity · 5 months
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Something about Landry gives me the fuzzies. We don't even see them much.
I blame Inky's fics. /j
Chomp chomp
>peppersprays
stop fucking biting my dick off, you already did it twice, was the first two times not enough? I need to regrow my dick three times now??
warning! asher going fucking mental over inky.
Seriously though, YOU ARE SO FUCKING REAL FOR THAT. Anything Inky writes, well, I haven’t checked out their non-dol fics, but I’m sure it’s just as good anyway. Fuck, I’m addicted to their style of writing, love the pacing, the words used and how they have the characters personalities down to a T.
I’d even go so far to say that they’re my favorite writer of all time (non books). From all the shit that I’ve read on this godforsaken app and other platforms or sites, nothing gets me going more than Inky’s. You don’t fucking get it, I need to inject that shit in my VEINS. It’s not enough just having eyes and physically seeing the words, processing them in my brain, I need to CONSUME it. Especially their Whitney drabbles, no matter how short or long, I’m eating. that. shit. UP. You have no fucking idea, no goddamn clue, the dol fandom can be a little scarce on here in terms of writing but holy fucking shit, nothing is more enjoyable than their dol fics. Nothing gets compares to them, gets me going like them, no other writer, no other fucking dol writer.
THE REMY COCKWHORE?? THE GAY HOMOPHOBIC WHITNEY??? THE FUCKING FRIDAY 13TH WHITNEY???? FUCKING. LEIGHTON. FUCKING. RIVERS. KID!!!!!
FUCKING HELL.
IF THEIR WRITING WAS A PERSON, I’D WORSHIP IT ON MY KNEES. I ALREADY DO.
Derailing off the subject, my bad. Yeah, I also really like Landry on their own though Inky’s fics of them already enhances it.
Now I’m thinking of Landry x PC x Mickey and it’s never been better. Being sandwiched between Landry and Mickey is the dream. They don’t even know how hot they are, helping PC out like that in return for reasonable favors that you can easily accomplish, PC’s little helpers that are on their side (from what we know of). Their own personal dynamic they have going on with each other from Mickey’s living arrangements at the pub with Landry and Landry’s casual teasing of Mickey’s crush on PC. Severely underrated and not appreciated enough, should be giving them both head under the counter as Landry is serving usual customers, I’d fucking do it.
Landry and Mickey are the real MVPs of DOL.
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francesminos-tt · 4 months
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Do you think you can do one like the movie pride and prejudice? With Daeron being Mr. Darcy and Joff being Lizzie? I'd love you forever and ever if you could! If you want that's fine too! ABO!
I made a small summary of some things if you want something more explained, but I love your ideas so you can and should write whatever you want, the things I wrote are not a requirement.
Viserys is not king, but is considered an important Lord in Westeros society. Rhaenyra marries Harwin Strong, a man far below Nyra's social standing and this is outrageous and shameful for Alicent. Viserys dies (and you know, at that time women had no right to any inheritance) and obviously all his riches would go to Aegon (if it weren't for the fact that Aegon is running away at the exact moment he receives the news, he doesn't want to be Lord but to party and fuck as much as he can) Now all the properties are being looked after and maintained by Aemond. So as expected, Aemond urgently needs to marry some rich and well-educated noblewoman. Alicent has her favorite options - baratheon girls -, but Aemond denies. Aemond insists on leaving Kings Landing to try and find his wife and Alicent sends Daeron with him on this mission because she knows her third son has some shared thoughts with her.
Rhaenyra discovers that her brothers are in town and like the intelligent woman she is, sends her three oldest children to the grand ball that will feature all the single Omegas and Betas. Rhaenyra OBVIOUSLY doesn't regret marrying Harwin but she wants her children to have a good future, wants them to have a good life.
Jace is the oldest, most responsible and most mature. Rhaenyra considers Jace to be the ideal choice for this marriage.
Luke is sweet, smart and kind but Rhaenyra still remembers when Aemond lost his eye and looked at the boy with nothing but hatred.
Joffrey is a smart and cheeky omega and wants to have a broader life than just dedicating himself to marriage. He hates Aemond, but he hates snobbish Daeron even more.
To be honest, Joffrey is more Lydia to me than Lizzie, but I managed to adapt the plot according to their dynamics. Here is the result. I tried to write their first meeting. Daeron may seem snobbish, but in fact he’s just trying to flirt with Joff (and failed epically). I think Joff hates him more and more until Daeron goes to propose to him, which sends Joff into total shock and he refuses Daeron. You can imagine the rest🤣
“I think I should burn a hole in my dress, so that mother cannot force me to go to the ball with my boobs exposed.” Joffrey said, sprawling on the bed in his underclothes. The room was pleasantly warm, even in the early spring chill, as the lazy afternoon sun shone through the window. Joffrey would rather spend his day hiking in the sun, than preparing his outfit for the stupid ball.
“Stop using words so vulgar.” Jacaerys scolded, but only half-heartedly, “Where did you learn it from anyway?”
“The lads in the market.” Joffrey replied, flipping over to lie on his stomach and watching his brothers ironing their respective dress, a simple light green one with embroidered bodice for Jace, and a sea blue one lined with intricate lace for Luke. The dresses were not extravagant, but beautiful and well-maintained, a gift from their mother to celebrate their presentation.
“You are an omega now, Joff.” Jace said, sounding very much like their father Harwin, “You shouldn't spend too much time with them.”
“Why not?” Joffrey scoffed, blowing a strand of curls from his face, “I am still me. My omega status doesn't change anything.”
“Joff.” Jace sighed, looking up from his work, “You know what I mean. Mother will not be pleased to learn you hang out with lads from the market. You have duties to fulfill-”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. I need to sell myself to some rich alpha like a whore, right? Being myself only destroys my price.” Joffrey mocked, rolling his eyes exaggeratedly.
“Do you really think mother will sell you like a piece of meat on the marriage market?” Lucerys chimed in before Jace could scold their younger brother more, “Answer me, Joff. Do you not trust mother to want the best for us?”
Joffrey bit his lower lip. He loved his mother. Rhaenyra might not be considered a conventional good mother, running away with her lover and cutting off all the ties to her family, but she was the best mother Joffrey could ever wish for. She cared for her children. That was part of the reason why she remarried Daemon after Harwin had sadly passed away, because with her husband’s inheritance snatched away by her brother-in-law, Rhaenyra had no means to support her three sons on her own. She had suffered so much just trying to give her children a decent life. It was no surprise that she wanted to secure the best marriage deal for her three omega sons. Joffrey knew for a fact that Rhaenyra would never force him to marry. She was merely providing the brothers a chance to broaden their views so that they could make wiser choices in the future.
“Sorry, Luke,” Joffrey sagged, his thick brows turning downwards like a sad puppy, “and Jace. I shouldn't have let my frustration out on you and mother. I know you only mean good for me.”
“It’s ok, Joff.” Jace put down his dress and came to sit on the bed, “Come here.”
Joffrey placed his head on Jace’s lap as if he was still a little boy, innocent, young, and ignorant of the cruelty the world had to offer. Jace brushed Joffrey’s wild curls with his fingers, gently untangling the knots one by one. Joffrey’s hair was just like him, wild and unruly, but could be tamed with patience.
“I don't want you to change, omega or not.” Jace told him, “You are charming just as you are. If you decide to marry, your future husband should love and respect who you really are, not some obedient omega you pretend to be.”
“I don't think anyone will love an omega who says boobs all the time.” Joffrey joked, “But hey, no worries! I don't want to marry anyway. I can be an old maid and look after you and Luke’s children.”
“You never know until you meet someone.” Lucerys joined them too, squeezing himself on the bed and giving Joffrey’s butt a playful slap, “I wouldn't say no to a cute ass like that.”
“Luke!” Jace sighed heavily, “Stop encouraging him! Did you learn the words from the market lads as well?”
“I don't know.” Lucerys laughed, flipping his lush hair sassily, “Maybe it’s Joff’s bad influence.”
“God help me.” Jace murmured, but his voice was drowned out by the hysterical laughter of his two younger brothers.
The ball was boring. It was no surprise, for Joffrey never had the interest or the patience to exchange pleasantries and gossips with other omegas. Balls were boring. Boring Balls. It actually rhymed, which made Joffrey chuckle to himself as he settled down on an armchair and watched his brothers dancing. Jace and Luke looked ravishing with their respective dresses, each piece bringing out the best of their features. Jace’s long legs and slender figure, Luke’s beautiful eyes and plump body, like two shining stars among the sea of dancers.
Joffrey saw himself as undesirable compared to his brothers. He was too tall for an omega, his skin too tanned, his brows too thick, and he always made sure to hide his plump chest under the humble clothes he chose to wear. Today, he was wearing one of his mother’s old dresses, a black one with golden embroideries on the collar and waist. The dress had a low cut originally, aimed to showing off one’s cleavage, but Joffrey had it altered, putting some sheer black laces on the chest area to hide the only charm point of his body, his full breast.
A song ended, and the dancers all retired from the floor to catch their breaths and have a little drink. Lucerys glided gracefully to Joffrey, smiling at everyone who waved their hands at him but never stopping for anyone.
“Where is Jace?” Lucerys asked, taking a glass of wine from Joffrey.
“Too busy flirting with Mr. Stark.” Joffrey tilted his chin to the corner of the ball room, where Jace was having an animated chat with a man in soldier uniform almost a header taller than him.
“I danced with him for a song.” Lucerys said, looking in the direction of Joffrey’s faze, “Mr. Stark is very pleasant.”
“I doubt it.” Joffrey was skeptical about all alphas’ characters, “He’s an army man. It is a miracle that he actually knows how to dance.”
“Papa Harwin was an army man, too.” Lucerys chuckled. He knew Joffrey didn’t really mean it. His little brother was just very protective of Jace.
Joffrey shrugged, taking a sip of his wine. This was his third glass, the alcohol making his cheeks pink and his head pleasantly buzzed.
“I am sure Jace is having a good time with Mr. Stark, but I can’t say the same about you, Joff.” Lucerys changed the subject of the conversation, “You haven’t danced tonight. No one takes your fancy?”
“You know I don’t like alphas, especially the snobbish ones.” Joffrey scrunched his nose in disgust, “They think we are all gold diggers who want their fortune. I can’t stand someone treating me like some kind of a prize.”
“You are not going to find a partner if you keep drinking wine alone.” Lucerys shook his head, reaching out to wipe off a drop of sweat on Joffrey’s nose, “I am not forcing you to socialize, but sometimes you cannot judge one’s true nature only by their looks.”
Just when Joffrey was about to retort, the room went silent as two newcomers joined the crowd. Joffrey could hear some omegas, even betas, gasping at the two alphas who had just entered the room. At first look, Joffrey had to admit that those alphas were indeed eye-catching. They were both tall, clad in the finest clothes Joffrey had ever seen, the silky fabric of their clothes and the gems on their rings and belts showing off their fortune. Joffrey could tell that they must be related, because they both had silver hair and purple eyes, one of them with long, smooth hair that pulled back into a low ponytail, while the other kept his curls short and fluffy. Normally, Joffrey was a hard man to impress, but he found he couldn’t take his eyes off the newcomers now. His alcohol-infused mind had a hard time processing the fact that his two uncles from that side of the family showed up at the same ball that he and his brothers attended.
“Luke,” Joffrey turned to Lucerys abruptly, “let’s go.”
Joffrey’s first instinct was to take Lucerys as far away as possible from uncle Aemond. It was a logical reaction, for Lucerys and Aemond had a strained history, to put it lightly. Aemond had drawn the most attention from the crowd since his arrival, partly because he was rich, tall, mysterious and handsome, but another reason was undoubtedly, his eye-patch. A leather eye patch covered Aemond’s left eye, but unable to hide the twisted scar underneath completely. The eye-patch gave Aemond a somewhat dangerous vibe, but Joffrey knew the danger was real.
“Go where?” Lucerys said a bit nervously, wiping his hand on his dress, “We can’t flee, Joff.”
“Why not? Let’s get out of here before they see us.” Joffrey grabbed Lucerys’s wrist and tried to drag his brother away, but his back hit a warm body before he could take a step.
“I am afraid it’s too late, nephew.” A soft voice came from behind as a warm hand placed on Joffrey’s waist to keep the omega from stumbling, “We have already seen you, haven’t we, brother?”
Daeron smiled at his one-eyed brother, but Aemond didn’t reply, keeping his gaze on Lucerys the entire time. Lucerys swallowed, but held Aemond’s intense gaze bravely.
“Uncles, what a coincidence.” Lucerys said, his voice quivering a little.
“Nephew.” Aemond’s lips curled up dangerously, “It is a pleasure seeing you here. Will you honor me to a dance?”
Unlike Lucerys, Aemond didn’t address them both, choosing to address Lucerys alone instead. He bowed slightly and offered his hand to Lucerys. Joffrey could taste the jealousy in the air, the sweet scent of surrounding omegas turning pungent. It baffled Joffrey that why would Aemond invite the boy who had taken his eye to a dance, but to his surprise, Lucerys actually said yes.
“Of course, uncle.” Lucerys took a big inhale to steady himself before placing his hand in Aemond’s inviting palm. They headed to the floor and began to dance to the upbeat rhythm. Joffrey knew Lucerys was a good dancer, but he had never expected Aemond to be one, too. Aemond’s moves were graceful and precise. He swung Lucerys in his arms with incredible ease, not even a single strand hair out of place.
“They make a lovely couple, don’t they?” Daeron’s voice almost jolted Joffrey out of his skin. The omega had completely forgotten about his other uncle. Daeron had come so close at some point that Joffrey could feel the heat from the alpha’s body. A unique scent of incense invaded Joffrey’s personal space, causing Joffrey’s head to spin.
“They are no couple.” Joffrey bit the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from being carried away by Daeron’s alluring scent, “Why do you say that? Lucerys is just being polite.”
“Is he? Well, my brother certainly isn’t.” Daeron replied as he offered Joffrey a fresh glass of wine, “Wine? I see you have already finished yours.”
“No, thank you. I can get my own wine.” Joffrey said defensively.
“I just want to have a chat with you, nephew.” Daeron raised an eyebrow, his hand still reaching out, “I didn’t mean to insult you or anything. No need to be so offended.”
Joffrey knew he might have acted too defensively, so he took the glass from Daeron and murmured a quiet thank you to the alpha.
“We haven’t met for so long, nephew.” Daeron said, sipping his own drink, “Last time we met was like, almost ten years ago. I never expect you to present as an omega.”
“What do you mean, uncle?” Joffrey frowned, but he didn’t lash out, “I apologize if I am not coy enough to be an omega.”
“Don’t get me wrong. I am sure you are a very pleasant omega. I just need some time to process this wonderful surprise.” Daeron smiled, seemingly unaffected by Joffrey’s sarcastic words, “You were so…wild, as a boy. I always thought you would present as an alpha, or at least, a beta.”
Joffrey didn’t like Daeron’s attitude, at all. The way Daeron talked about his omega status made his skin prickle with frustration and anger. Daeron seemed to have no respect for omegas, as if they were somewhat inferior creatures. It was a common thought shared by most alphas, seeing omegas as weak, emotional, and had to depend on alphas to live. That was why Joffrey hated to interact with alphas. He might be an omega, but he was a person at first. He had his own thoughts and aspirations. He didn’t need an alpha to tell him what to do.
“I am satisfied with my status, uncle.” Joffrey said coldly.
“Really? Are you here today to socialize with other alphas? Have you found anyone to your liking so far?” Daeron looked around the room, “Is that Jacaerys? Who is the soldier he’s talking to? Are they engaged?”
Joffrey wanted to say none of your business, but that would be too rude. He didn’t mind to be rude, but he didn’t want Daeron to look down upon him more than the alpha already had.
“No. Mr. Stark is just a good friend.” So far, Joffrey added silently.
“Oh, I’ve known the Starks. They are from the North.” Daeron said dismissingly, “I imagine he will be blown by the social scene here in King’s Landing. I’ve heard that winters in the North are so harsh that people cannot stay outside for more than a few minutes. I presume there aren’t many social events to be held in that weather.”
“They can find a way to enjoy themselves, I am sure.” Joffrey said, taking a sip from wine Daeron had handed him before. He wasn’t planning to drink more, but Daeron’s attitude just antagonized him so much that he needed alcohol to hold himself together.
“The Starks don’t have much of a fortune. I’ve heard that their estate only provides a small income each year.” Daeron continued, “I think Jacaerys can do better.”
“If my brother gets married, he’s marrying for love and mutual respect, not yearly income.” Joffrey put the wine glass down on the small table next to him with a loud bang, “You seem to think a large fortune is the only thing that attracts omegas, but let me tell you that you are wrong.”
“Did I say something that offends you, Joff?” Daeron sounded genuinely surprised, the bastard, “If I did, I am terribly sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you in any way.”
“You’ve said enough, uncle.” Joffrey said with gritted teeth, “You and your family have already taken what should belong to my mother. I suggest you find someone else who is actually interested in your stolen fortune, because I definitely am not.”
Joffrey turned to leave. He was so furious that if he didn’t leave now, he would punch Daeron in the face. He didn’t even have time to look for his brothers before he stepped into the bitter cold of the night.
Joffrey hated alphas, and he hated Daeron the most.
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hms-no-fun · 1 year
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I hope this ask doesn't come off as rude at all-- and I apologize if it does!-- but as an aspiring writer, I'm honestly really confused by some of the early choices in Godfeels, and I'm curious if I'm just not "getting it". I saw some posts about it pop up in the tag (and they WERE very shitty and rude about it :/), but I'd love to hear your explanation/take on June's big character change immediately post-realization, and especially the... "Trickster Arc", I guess it could be called? The former I get to some extent, but I'm really curious about the choice to do all THAT so early in the story with the trickster candy.
Seriously love your work, your narration is honestly a big inspiration to me in terms of how meta it gets and how close it gets to communicating directly with both the main character AND the audience!
no rudeness detected at all! this is a great question, in fact it’s one i’ve been kinda hoping someone would ask because i’ve been thinking about this stuff a lot these last few months. but i get the sense that you’re at least a little new here, so uh, yeah, hello, when people ask me interesting questions i tend to answer at great length. so strap in for that after the break lmao. also as a note, there will be some spoilers for all of godfeels here but please don’t let that scare you away, they’re all contextless and, if anything, might honestly make the rest of the story *more* enjoyable as a result.
as far as "getting it" goes, i've talked at length about the how & why of the violence in godfeels in multiple places so i'll try to avoid rehashing that too much here. but one thing i want to emphasize right off the bat is that i never intended godfeels to be an ongoing thing. you talk about the trickster arc happening “so early in the story” but when i wrote godfeels 1 i didn’t plan on writing more. i didn’t even plan on making john trans! my idea of what the sum total of godfeels 2 would be when i started writing it wound up being completely different from the finished work. i didn’t plan to make this thing so long. i didn’t plan for june to accidentally on purpose kill her friends while drunk and then retcon it. i didn’t plan on turning the whole thing into a space opera. it all just happened to me, man. i kept writing because i kept finding more interesting things to say. and it’s important to specify that when i started gf1 i hadn’t written fiction in years. i think if you jumped ahead to godfeels 3 part 1 chapter 8, no matter how you feel about the content we’d at least be able to agree that in the years since 2019 i’ve become a much much better writer. if you want more insight into how my process has evolved, i’ve written so so so much about it, too much maybe even, in the #sarahposts tag.
anyway, now i want to talk about june's "big character change." the extent to which her trickster arc makes sense or feels in character seems to vary wildly from person to person. what always bugs me about "ooc" as a criticism is that godfeels starts six years and change after the end of homestuck. let's remember that the protagonists of homestuck were sixteen when the comic ended. now i want you to ask yourself if you as you were at 16 would think that you as you are now was "in character." or vice versa! probably not, right? it doesn’t even have to have been six years. i was STILL sixteen when i started to get embarrassed of who i was at sixteen!
that should be all i need to say, but it isn’t. and it doesn't really get to the core of the issue anyway. i am not nor have i ever been interested in writing "a sequel to homestuck,” even though it has kind of just become that anyway. godfeels has always been about the meaty existential drama you can tease out through the complicated character dynamics of these fucked up traumatized gods. godfeels has always been my way of analyzing the themes and ideas of homestuck, the existential ramifications of the mechanics of SBURB and the classpects and retcon (let’s remember that i wrote godfeels around the same time that i took over hosting duties on the perfectly generic podcast). godfeels has also always been about me and my trauma. i even used to joke that june was my self-insert character, though i've seen that line repeated unironically by enough people who haven't read godfeels that i've stopped saying it. because it's not true! june is very, very different from me... i just happen to see my life reflected in her eyes.
to immediately rehash what i said i wouldn't, june eg8ert arose out of my frustration with most versions of the june egbert headcanon particularly in the summer of 2019. let's call her "hairclips june." hairclips june is always smiling, usually with smiling friends, she's wearing hairclips and has nonzero tit and is A Woman Now. as i said in my video, while i don't begrudge anyone their comfort food, this simply was not my experience with coming out as a trans woman. and of all the characters, i’d always identified most with john. also i thought, you know, these kids are SERIOUSLY messed up, every single one of them has died multiple times, they've seen things and done things no one should ever have to. and retcon! god, what a mindfuck retcon is.
those are the primal ingredients of godfeels. what if june came out and everyone wasn't chill about it? some folks say that's out of character and, idk, i guess that's arguably true. but i had friends who were very vocal trans allies who’d been in queer relationships who still stopped talking to me after i came out. let me tell you i spent a lot of time fucked up in the head over how "out of character" that was for them, to the extent that i blamed myself for their reaction because surely they couldn't be so out of character. to which one might respond, well, why do this as a homestuck fic then? why not just do my own original thing instead?
and i guess the answer is that i didn't want to and i still don't, really. it's not just about the characters for me. i like the rules of the homestuck universe. i find it interesting how it mechanically reflects being a fictional narrative. and, you know, maybe it's easier for me to process violent intrusive thoughts through a character who is capable of acting on those thoughts and then immediately undoing them consequence-free. retcon is, in fact, sort of the perfect mechanism for exploring violent intrusive thoughts because it lets us play out the fantasy without lasting diegetic harm, such that we can just focus on the existential and moral questions of the phenomenon itself. and like, yeah, that’s not everyone’s cup of tea. but isn’t it still just as valid a topic to explore in fiction as anything else?
like em or not, people have intrusive thoughts. people have violent impulses. sometimes they even act on them. the unpleasantness of a phenomenon shouldn’t dictate whether it is acceptable to depict in fiction-- if anything, we ought to take our instinctive desire to look away as an urgent invitation to look closer instead. as i’ve been wont to say for years and years now, “problematic” implies a problem to be solved. that which is human is inherently complicated. to pretend it’s all good or bad excises humanity from the equation, or at least flattens the range of acceptable humanity. all of which is my extremely soapboxy way of saying (as i’ve said a million times by now), yes, godfeels june is problematic. that is in fact what godfeels is about.
there's an extent to which i think this can be blamed on how rooted we are IN june's perspective in gf1 and 2. i don't think people really appreciate the fact that godfeels 1 is john threatening to commit suicide and almost going through with it. that's the context in which her friends react poorly to her coming out; i mean, she's literally sleeping on rose's couch because everyone's so worried about her! i think that, by being completely within june's perspective for all of these events, we don't really get a good sense of the interpersonal dynamics at play (probably because i didn't even really understand them myself until later). instead we just see people who should know better acting like dicks.
i think whether or not june’s trickster arc is canonically palatable to you depends very much on whether or not you've had a dear friend disappoint you so much that you're no longer on speaking terms.
but if we want to reel this back from the abstract philosophical, maybe it’s enough to say that we just have different interpretations of these characters? they’re not monoliths, you know. different people see different things in different characters. some folks get a lot out of hairclips june and that’s okay. maybe i was a bitch about other people’s headcanons back in 2019 when redditors were calling me and my friends abusive pedophiles for liking vriska, but i gave up that fight when the redditors got what they wanted (to harass a group of queer creators offline and out of their jobs). if someone wants to woobify gamzee, whatever man, go right ahead. that ain’t my cup of tea and i personally don’t think that’s very in character either, but that’s why i don’t read it. it ain’t for me and that’s fine. i like homestuck BECAUSE these characters can mean so many things to so many people. is this variability not precisely the thing that makes the postcanon era so interesting?
i have my idea of who these characters are based on who they were in the comic and i work very hard to keep them in character, but i also don't want them to be trapped in amber. i want them to grow and change and become different people, because homestuck itself is obsessed with inescapable absolute archetypes (ie the ultimate self, or the captchalogue system) and i enjoy troubling that. i enjoy swimming in a sea of weird problematic dilemmas. that’s what’s fun about fiction for me, you can think about and write about all the most difficult and even fucked up things you like, and it definitionally cannot cause real material nonconsensual harm to another human being. and yet we get so tied up in the question of harm anyway! maybe that makes sense when talking about marvel movies, but this is fanfiction we’re talking about. this is HOMESTUCK fanfiction. if i were to go on twitter right now and post “homestuck is good” i’d end the day with at least five comments saying “lol no it’s not.” SOME OF THOSE PEOPLE WILL HAVE HOMESTUCK AVATARS. there are few things as cringe as liking homestuck even among people who like homestuck, so who cares? i like homestuck, i like the epilogues, i like hs2, and i think a pretty gargantuan majority of this fandom are subliterate babies. that’s why i don’t engage with them or make much of an attempt to bridge the gap. i think godfeels and its cool little fandom is all the better for how much work it requires of the reader to “get it” as it were. i wish more people would give it a chance, or at the very least not immediately throw me and a lot of my friends under the bus at every possible opportunity, but what can you do? i just write. people will react how they will react. what matters to me is that it stays true to itself as a work, and that it grows with me and my audience and my collaborators. trying to backpedal or soften the edges would just ruin the whole thing, likely alienate my current readers and inevitably invite even more bad faith readings. no thanks!
some folks stop reading godfeels after june's trickster arc, and i can respect that. if you get to that part of the story and don't like it, chances are you're not gonna like the rest of it! and in that sense, i guess you could say i “chose” to have june’s trickster arc happen so “early on” as a litmus test for the reader. as annoying as it can be feeling like i’m constantly having to address this exact issue, i vastly prefer it to a bunch of people hate-reading something that wasn’t made for them. but again, i didn’t know this was “early on” when i wrote it, because i didn’t plan it to happen. i didn’t intend for june to go on a killing spree, she just did it and i as writer decided, you know what? this is way more interesting than what i had planned. and then dirk became the antagonist because, oops, june coming out fucked up all the schemes he has that play out in the homestuck epilogues. and i guess in THAT sense, the palatability of godfeels depends on whether or not you liked and/or tolerated the homestuck epilogues and homestuck^2. these, too, are not for everyone. but godfeels is not a replacement for them, as some folks like to claim (god bless them). i’m not interested in rewriting homestuck or fixing its sequels. ok well that’s not entirely true, i think the epilogues did jake REAL dirty and that’s become a big focus of mine going forward. but even then, i don’t pretend the epilogues didn’t happen. in fact if you’ve read all of 3.1, you know just how cosmically important they end up being.
but this is, i guess, kind of the crux of the issue for me. june’s trickster arc happens very early on in the story, yes, and that’s deliberately challenging on a lot of levels. june spends a great deal of time being challenged by it herself! but folks who stop there (if they even make it that far) often act like the whole story is grimdark wish-fulfillment violence or me airing out my irrational hatred of Boys (????), and that's just not true. i don’t give a shit about that. we get to june's trickster arc at around the 25,000 word mark, out of the current grand total of over 400,000 words. her violence is functionally the prologue, and she spends the entire rest of this story suffering the consequences of those actions. so if i am frustrated with this line of questioning, a lot of it comes down to the fact that if you just read the rest of the story you’d see that i have in fact had all of the same thoughts you’ve likely had. i know people who think i did dirk dirty in gf2, and i actually kind of agree! which is why dirk comes back and has a difficult, complicated relationship with his past self. people complain about certain characters being ooc, which i can certainly understand because when i started godfeels i really did not have a great grasp on them! but also, if you kept reading godfeels you’d know that the tension of whether or not someone is cosmically “in character” is a huge running theme of this story. june’s friends react poorly to her coming out in part because it seems out of character for her! hell, phenomenologically how *could* june be in character after coming out when she barely even knows who she is yet? her whole thing in gf1 is that she doesn’t know who she is anymore! just realizing that you’re trans changes you, changes how you see the world, how you relate to other people. or it did for me, anyway. risk, dare, X, angel dirk, and silverbark are all sorts of caught up in this question. and if you’ve gotten to the end of 3.1 you’ll know about the concept of denexustic radiation:
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and that’s just the tip of the metaphysical iceberg. all of which is to say that this is a feature, not a bug. so it’s always very funny to me when people drop out so early on only to complain about the very same problematics that i’ve spent three years and 400,000 words exploring.
BUT. but. yeah godfeels 1 and 2 are messy. the gf3 prologue is very messy. it’s a serial narrative that has changed shape multiple times over the years, and barring a bit of polish on gf1 around when i started writing gf3 i generally refuse to go back and rewrite things. there’s a lot i would do differently today, but if i had done it differently then the story as it is today would not exist. and i love this story! i might look back on gf2 and feel like it’s rushed and messy, but i know that it was the best i could do at the time. it’s a reflection of who i was as a writer then. i live with the ramifications of that for the same reason i don’t delete the old videos on my channel from before i came out/learned what communism was: because i don’t like to pretend that the present was always present. i’m a different person now, a different writer. i made mistakes, i learned, and i changed. i will continue this process for the rest of my natural life, as will you.
ultimately i guess my answer here is that godfeels is a flawed work written by a flawed person, and the extent to which readers relate to it seems to have a lot to do with how much their flaws overlap with mine. i get lots of people telling me my characters are in character. i get people telling me they’re more in character than some canon! and it’s not that i weigh those comments as more valuable, i just see it as an indication of who my audience is. i’m not writing for people who want more hiveswap, and i’m certainly not writing for people who dismissed hs^2 out of hand. i’m just writing for myself and my friends, and it just so happens that some people seem to get a lot out of it.
i’m gonna close out here by actually finally directly addressing your question with what i think you were ultimately hoping for: some writing advice.
the rules don’t exist. there are things that can make some art better or some art worse but they are not universal. the rules are fake and if you hold every story you touch to those rules, you’re gonna have a bad time. a story is not static and it is never truly yours. you discover it. sometimes you can expand it or alter it in ways but, at least in my experience, doing so more often than not just kills the whole thing-- or at least demands a complete reconceptualization. all of which takes time, and we live in a world where taking time to get in touch with and hone your craft is considered sort of a bad economic decision. but art is what it is and it does what it does and we can either play with it or we can put it in a cage.
what i like about making art is that i am not entirely in control. i have my plans, my schemes, my ideas, but the fun of writing is just putting a bunch of characters in a room together and seeing what they do. quite often they do things i would never expect, that are far truer to their character than i anticipated. my experience has always been that the more you outline a story before you write it, the harder it is to actually write that story. when i know everything that’s gonna happen on a moment to moment level, the whole thing falls dead on the page. but obviously you need to know SOME things! and i’ll say that from the inception of gf3 back in december 2019 to now, very very few of the broad strokes of my plans have changed. if you’ve read all of 3.1 you know there’s a very specific timeline at play in the backstory of a group of characters we’ll be spending a lot of time with in 3.2. there are no questions or mysteries or whatever else i’ve introduced to this story that i did not have at least the sense of an explanation for. but these are simply bullet points that dictate the endpoint of a path and suggest something of the moral/philosophical/emotional arc that needs to occur in order to get there. the real meat of it comes out in the act of writing itself, and that’s what i’m here for. it’s a gamble that doesn’t always pay off, and it does mean that i have almost 80,000 words of material i ended up rewriting or cutting sitting in a doc somewhere, but that’s worth it for me.
if art is to be relevant, it must have the capacity to make an audience uncomfortable. if art is to be essential, it must have the capacity to demand a strong reaction (positive or negative) from everyone who sees it. if art is to be true, it must have the capacity to reflect the disquiet contradictions of simple existence that we desperately wish to ignore in our daily lives. that doesn’t mean everyone has to or should read difficult art, or like it, or make it. but it has always existed and it will always exist, and i think it is essential for writers and critics alike to learn to stop themselves from mistaking a common storytelling method for THE storytelling method. and frankly, most of the art i love most in this world is art that i didn’t particularly like the first time we crossed paths.
and lastly, never forget the inarguable truth that the audience bears quite a lot of responsibility in this equation. you are never, as a writer, inflicting anything on your reader, because your reader can always opt out at any moment they wish. if something doesn’t work, yeah, that’s a problem you can fix. art is a conversation in that way, or at least ought to be. but at the same time, art has no obligation to be perfect, or smooth, or easy to consume. the rules are fake. they exist to be broken. the pursuit of perfection is a dead end. just make shit
okay this one has gone on QUITE long enough lmao i hope there’s something useful in there for you somewhere and uhhhh i hope you enjoy the rest of godfeels if you haven’t already read it!
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morningglory-sims · 1 month
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... The Chills Came From You 💙
I think they may be exploring, the "each other kind" 👀 I love them and their growing love for each other 🥰
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Transcript under the cut:
2 Months Ago
📍 Chisaka's, Mt. Komorebi
[AKIO] Yeah, so this restaurant is run by my older half-brother. This is essentially his inheritance from his grandfather on mother's side, so technically this is a family thing, just not my family, I guess?
[AKIO] *deep sigh* Fuck, family is complicated, huh? I wouldn’t trade it for the world, but some of the dynamics I would. A part of the tension going on with my family is my dad threatening to cut Isao off for taking over this restaurant. I don’t know if it’s one of his messed up ways of dealing with the grief of that failed marriage, but it’s really torn things apart.
[ELIZABETH] Oh, that must be so hard for your brother. I can tell he's just trying to honour his family's legacy in a meaningful way. After my mom died, one of my aunts felt like she was owed something because my mom was the "prettier" sister and she"suffered" because of her. It's really messed up how legitimate feelings of grief can be dealt with in such unhealthy ways. It makes me nervous for Kath's wedding.
[AKIO] I can imagine! That's really fucked up with your aunt though, I hope your sister is able to have her dream wedding.Now that I think about it, it’s the entitlement that gets in the way. Like you said, its not healing wounds in a healthy way. Anyway, I want to know more about your mom and your family. If you're comfortable sharing.
Family matters, and you matter to me.
[ELIZABETH] My mom was amazing! Totally warm, welcoming and made you feel like you mattered. She knew how to stand her ground and be bold, yet she was also shy. She passed away from heart failure when the twins were 17, Caroline was 15 and I was 13, she was so young. You know how it feels to be punched in the gut and have the wind taken out of you? I felt like that every day for almost a year. Being more on the quiet side, I for sure slipped through the cracks. My dad did his best, but it's hard to come to the realization that your parents aren't perfect.
[ELIZABETH] I think that’s why I went to school so far away. I wanted to get away from the place and the dynamics, not my dad or my siblings. To be completely honest with you, Akio, and I’ve only said this to Lily. I finally felt like I grieved my mom fully when Owen took my sorry ass out of Del Sol Valley. I had a good cry in his car and I got everything off my chest.
[ELIZABETH] It was really special because Owen and I don't always get a long, but during that road trip to Windenburg, we really bonded and opened up to each other. Family dynamics are rough, but when I learned to see my older siblings as people beyond just being my siblings, I love them more! I don't feel like I've been punched in the chest when I think about mom. She'll always be a part of me.And, I can carry that into other areas of my life, especially in my relationships. I still can't believe it's been almost 10 years.
[AKIO] Thank you for allowing me to know something so deep and special.
I learn so much about everything from you, Liz. Maybe I need to see my family as people beyond just as my family.
Maybe it would take out some of the emotion? You and your beautiful mind have given me something to chew on.
[ELIZABETH] We're all works in progress, Akio. We tend to figure things out as we go along.
[AKIO] Well, I'm lucky to have you in my life as I figure shit out. *winks*
[ELIZABETH] Wait, were you hitting on me? *winks* I'm grateful for you, babe. I've never felt safer with someone, I'm grateful for your emotional intelligence, and it's pretty sexy if I'm honest.
[AKIO] *blushes* Well, babe I'm so absolutely serious about, us. I've never felt cared for by anyone like you.
I see how passionate you are and how you care for others. I want you to know that I only do serious and committed, and I want that with you.
[ELIZABETH] *sighs deeply, relieved* I only want something serious with you, Akio.
[AKIO] Good, glad to hear that, beautiful. I adore you, so much and I can't wait to explore what life has to offer with you by my side. 
[ELIZABETH] *to herself* Ohhh, hmmm!
[ELIZABETH] *lowers voice* Explore, you say? I've been thinking about 'exploring' too…
[ELIZABETH] *gently caresses Akio's ankle with her foot - a little flirty game of footsie*
[ELIZABETH] I wonder if we're thinking about the same type of exploring, hmm? The each other kind?
[AKIO] *gulps, eyes widen *
[AKIO] *lowers voice* Well, Elizabeth Grace, I initially wasn't thinking of it that way, but I'd be pleased to facilitate that. Juri is sleeping over at Eiko's tonight... So we can get that exploring' figured out.
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