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tojiphile · 9 months

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you don't need other boys when you have him, your daddy’s best friend. he’s everything you’d ever need and more, better than all the boys—he’s a man. a good man. these are the words he croons into your ear every time he sneaks into your room late at night, slipping an arm around your waist and his cock in your eagerly waiting cunt.

it all started when you had a fight with your dad. even though your dad was hosting his own birthday party, you sulked all night. your dad didn’t try to hide his own snide comments, so why should you? you didn’t greet guests nor help out, instead choosing to use your phone, drink as much booze as you could and retire to your bedroom early.

as you lay in bed, you could still hear the reverberations of music and the boisterous laugh of middle aged men and women alike. you groaned and covered your head with a pillow, trying to drown out the noise. so when he knocked on your door, opened it when you didn’t answer, and walked in, you jumped when the weight shifted on your bed as he sat down.

“i didn’t mean to scare you,” he says kindly, lending you a smile, “you just seemed… off, today. i wanted to check in on you.”

you sit up. this man was your dad’s best friend of years. not having any kids of his own, he spoilt you rotten. he bought you all the toys and pretty dresses that your dad refused to, arguing that they were too expensive before throwing money at gambling or whatever new woman walked into his life. as you grew up, you couldn’t help but develop a soft spot for him. when you sat still and pretty during dinners and parties, nodding along like a good girl your father demanded you be, your eyes always fell on him. his charming disposition, the way he chided your father like no one else could, and the way he’d always put food on your plate first, giving you a wink as you said thank you wordlessly.

of course, when your friends would talk about dilfs, your mind would never go to your father, the deadbeat dad who provided nothing for you. instead, you would always think about him. his salt and pepper hair that he ran his calloused hands through, smile lines set on his face more defined than any wrinkles, his toned body that you would dream about, touch yourself to every night. you were suddenly conscious that you weren’t wearing a bra. nor shorts.

“i’m fine.” you pull your blanket up to cover your chest. maybe it was the six pack of beer or the cask strength whiskey, but your head was pounding, and your heart was racing. he put a large hand on your thigh. your blanket hid your bare skin from his, but his gentle touch already sent heat pooling in your lower body.

“i’m sorry about your dad,” he says, “he’s an idiot.” he rubs your thigh reassuringly, perhaps innocently unaware of what he’s doing to you, “he doesn’t know how to treat a woman. much less his perfect daughter.”

you flush. was he really saying this? he continues, “i’ve tried to tell him so many times, y’know? how amazing you are, so filial, better than so many other daughters this day and age. he keeps blaming it on your mum leaving but god, that shouldn’t be a fucking excuse.”

he’s working himself up, you can tell as his brow furrows, his arms tense. it feels good to be validated, especially when your father was so unmoving. you place a hand on his toned arm, “i’m fine, but thanks.”

“but you shouldn’t be fine!” he stands up, pacing. you internally bemoan the loss of contact, “if i was your dad, i’d never treat you this way,” he sits back down softly, brushing a stray hair behind your ear, “if you were mine, i’d take care of you.”

his flushed face is inches from yours, you can smell the whiskey on his breath and see the heat in his gaze, almost blazing. he cups your face gently, eyes studying your face before falling back to your eyes, “you’re perfect, so beautiful.” you hold his gaze, you don’t know where this is going but you don’t want this moment to end.

the moment ends when you both hear your father yell and a beer bottle break. he must have lost in a game of poker. before you can react, your father’s best friend shoots up, “i’m sorry,” he trudges towards your bedroom door, “i shouldn’t have come up.”

his hand is already on your door handle and your mouth acts before your brain can stop it, “no.” he turns to look at you.

your pull the blanket off, revealing your bare legs, nipples perky against your thin shirt, “stay.”

his breath hitches, and you can see his pants tightening. he can’t peel his eyes away from you but he manages to mutter, “it’s wrong.”

you turn your body to his, spreading your legs and placing your feet on the bed, exposing your core to him.

“please.”

whatever self control he had left seems to have evaporated at the pleading sound of your voice as he clicks your door lock into place and races over to your bed, forcing you to lie flat as he climbs on top of you, slotting himself between your spread legs, trapping you under him.

“you’re beautiful,” he whispers, leaning down to press featherlight kisses on your neck, “so beautiful.” you gasp as a hand grips your waist, running down the side of your figure.

“but this is wrong…” he tries to pull away but you stop him. “i don’t care.” you yank him by the front of his shirt, pulling all his weight on top of you as you press your lips together, running your hands down his broad back. he takes a second to react but follows your lead, he nips at your bottom lip and as you moan, he slips his tongue into your mouth.

he breaks away from the kiss, sitting up to pull off his shirt, revealing his defined abs. you let yourself feel him, reveling in the feeling. he leans back down, gaze never leaving yours but just as your lips are are about to meet, he stops. you can’t help but whine, though the sound is replaced by a gasp as a calloused hand cups you through your panties.

“you’re already soaked,” he laughs, “good girl.”

embarrassed but so unbelievably desperate, you let out a sigh, “only for you, daddy.”

he scoffs, “i know.” he pulls your panties aside, revealing your puffy pussy, “this isn’t the first time i’ve come up to your room.” he spreads you with his fingers, and you shut your eyes in anticipation, “i tried to find you last week to say goodbye but your walls are really thin. i heard you call out my name.”

the last time he was over, he must have come from the gym as his damp hair along with the tightest compression shirt you’d ever seen was enough for you to squeak out a tiny “excuse me”, before running to your room before you creamed yourself right there at the dinner table.

he slips two fingers into your greedy cunt, snapping you back to reality. he moves slowly, but his long, slender digits worked their magic, loosening you up while hitting at that spongy spot inside you. his thumb finds your clit and moves in small circles, causing your brain to short circuit. he hadn’t done much but the pleasure is insurmountable, the whole situation overwhelms you, and you find your core tightening, close. “cum for me,” he kisses down your neck, sucking near your collarbone. at his okay, you chase your release, writhing under him as his fingers continue working.

“so good for daddy,” he kisses you as you pant softly.

he slips his fingers out of your cunt and display them to you, slick and dripping. “messy girl.” you squirm as he spreads his fingers, showing off your viscous juices. he maintains eye contact with you as he takes his own digits in his mouth, sucking them clean, tasting you.

"sweet, just like you." he proclaims, booping your nose with the same finger that was just in his mouth seconds earlier. “can you take more?”

you nod. he grins, pressing a chaste kiss onto your lips. he sits up, one hand caressing your face and the other unbuckling his belt. he pulls it off in a swift motion, but before he can begin unbuttoning his pants, you move your hand to do so. "allow me," you smile up at him, puppy eyes glinting.

"someone's excited." he laughs, moving his hand to allow you to work on his buttons. his other hand, still on your face, makes its way down slowly, before his grip finally rests on your neck.

you unbutton his jeans and are faced with his grey underwear, straining from his bulge. “keep going,” he nudges you with his free hand. you pull at his waistband, allowing his cock to spring free. it’s thick, veiny, and big, bigger than any of the other boys’ you’d ever been with. tentatively, you wrap a hand around his length, causing him to hiss softly. your thumb doesn’t meet your fingers, so as you start pumping him slowly, up and down, you have to use two hands to grip him tight.

“god, you’re amazing,” he says with a sigh, giving your neck a gentle squeeze, gazing at you like you’re the most beautiful thing that’s ever crossed his sight. when you meet his eyes you can’t help but look away. still, you manage a whisper, “i- i want you.”

“say that again?” he asks, distracted by your hands working to unravel him. you flush.

“i want you…” you meet his eyes, “…in me.”

he barks out a laugh, spurred on by your boldness, “anything for you.”

he moves to stand up, shrugging off his bottoms. he moves to your bedside table and rummages around, looking for something. “any condoms?”

you shake your head. “i must have ran out. are you clean?”

he laughs. “considering you’re the first person i’ve fucked in a few years, i’d hope so.”

“good,” you hide a cheeky smile, before giving him your best puppy dog eyes, “because i really, really want daddy to give me his babies.”

with a raise of an eyebrow, he accepts the challenge. he always loves you best when you’re confident. makes him want to ruin you. he climbs back over you, spreading your thighs apart and aligning the tip of his cock with your dripping cunt.

he looks at you for your approval, and at your nod, he pushes his tip in. you gasp at the stretch, his thick cock opening you up like a present. you wanted him, no, needed him to fill you up, to make you feel so, so full.

you rut into him and he gets the hint, pushing himself deeper into you. it starts to feel painful, and you clench around him, trying to seek some relief. your fluttering walls make him feel so good, too good. he could feel himself coming close. “don’t do that!” he warns, but it comes out more as a moan.

you disobey, of course, and squeeze tighter. wrapping your legs around his waist, you pull him in deeper, causing you both to breathe in a sharp intakes of breath. any pain had evaporated into the pooling warmth in your stomach.

both of you stay in that position for a while, eyes locked. “fuck it,” he growls under his breath, grabbing onto your waist and pulling your body away from his, before snapping it back. he’s thrusting in, and pulling you off, all while his curved cock continues to hit that sweet, sweet spot that makes you see stars. you almost fall limp, but wanting to prove yourself, you start fucking yourself on his cock, lifting your hips and trying to move yourself to ease his load.

“such a good, a good girl. my good girl. my girl. my girl. mine.” he chants it like a mantra, each syllable a beat he moved along to as he fucked you silly. “who owns you?”

“you, daddy!”

he places a hand on your bare stomach and squeezes. following the curve of your body, he finds your breast. he takes your whole boob in his big hand, squeezing it so tightly it hurt. he moves to play with your nipples, rolling it around between calloused fingers, pebbling it. you moan and arch your back, allowing him to sink deeper into you.

“what a good girl you are, huh? fucking yourself on his cock. my pretty, pliant girl. ‘m gonna fill you up with my babies. wanna see your cute little stomach swell.” he lifts one of your legs, tucking it over his shoulder, allowing him to go even deeper than you thought he could. you’re squirming, trying to keep up with his relentless pounding but god it’s too much. his hand wanders your body, gripping at your tender flesh. he wants to feel you, every part of you.

just the thought makes the pooling heat in your stomach come to a boil, your toes curling, you cry out, “i’m gonna cum!” he continues fucking you, his stamina never letting up, “cum for me, my pretty girl, i’m close too.”

the pleasure is building to a climax and as he places a hand on your neck and squeezes, you feel your high washing over you, cunt convulsing over his cock. his grip doesn’t release, and black spots start to cover your vision, making you let out a shaky moan.

as he looks down at you, back arching and falling while he fucked you through your orgasm, the obscene sight of your precious body squirming under him is what takes him over the edge. he’s cumming into you, warm jets of white shooting straight into your cunt. his head empty other than his relentless thoughts, “mine, mine, mine, mine, mine.”

you both reach that peak together, gripping onto each other for dear life. when you’re all done, he presses a deep kiss on your lips and slips his softening cock out of you, rolling to lie by your side. still, greedily, he pushes his cum back into you, “take it all.”

he opens up and lets you roll into his arms. he places a gentle kiss on your forehead, and smooths out your tangled hair. you both lie there in comfortable silence, your eyes falling shut and his focused on you. soon, your breathing became even. when you fall asleep, he rolls himself out of your bed, looking down at your sleeping form, so peaceful and worry-free. he wants you to look like that always. slowly, he gets himself dressed to rejoin your dad’s party downstairs. tucking you in, he presses one final kiss on your head and whispers,

“good girl.”

GETO SUGURU, gojo satoru, zhongli, hajime iwaizumi, NANAMI KENTO, tetsuro kuroo, aki hayakawa

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ectoentity · 3 months

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So, the Haunting Heroes server did a Who Wrote That game with the theme of "wingfic" a while back. I did an entry and I liked it enough that I decided to expand on it. Gonna start posting scenes here whenever I get them done, and eventually piece it together for ao3. This first part is the intro, but the rest probably won't actually be in order.

Update Mar 11, 2024: Here is the Subscription Post

Ectoplasm Gives You Wings

(Working title)

DPxDC, T-rated genfic.

Everyone knew ghosts had wings. It was in every ghost story throughout history, regardless of culture. It was one of their defining traits, like going through walls or fading into invisibility. The unquiet dead soared through the night on birdlike wings, occasionally leaving unnaturally large feathers as an omen of impending death.

As soon as the newly-working portal spat Danny out, he knew there would be no hiding what had happened. His ghostly form came with a pair of large wings that didn't go away when he turned back human. In his ghost form, they were mostly black with bars of white near the bottom edge. The reverse was true when he was human. It was an indication of what had happened to him that he couldn't escape.

Tucker and Sam tried to play it off to his parents as a meta mutation that had suddenly appeared. They'd heard of it happening before on TV and through the internet. Besides, there were winged people in the Justice League. Danny's parents had never talked about them being secret ghosts.

Danny would never forget his parents' horrified faces as they came downstairs and found him. The way their eyes skipped over his face entirely and focused on the wings behind him. His dad frozen in place, expression slack with shock. His mom's face going from horror to determination as she set her jaw and reached for a bazooka.

Danny and his friends managed to escape them and run all the way to Tucker's house. Running was harder with a new pair of limbs hanging off his back like so much dead (hah) weight. It was clear that Danny couldn't stay here. His parents might be cranks, but once they realized the portal worked they would have evidence to prove Danny was a ghost. At least, sort of. Would they try to experiment on him, or just try to help him pass on? Danny assumed it would be the latter, but he had also assumed his mom wouldn't ever draw a weapon on him.

Tucker and Sam helped him to pack a camping backpack full of spare clothes he'd left at Tucker's, a handful of important essentials like a first aid kit, and a sleeping bag. They left for a while and came back with a cheap cellphone, a handful of prepaid phone cards, and a surprising amount of cash. Who would have thought Sam was secretly loaded?

They argued all night about where he should go. Danny barely knew his Dad's side of the family, let alone whether they'd take him in. His mom's sister Alicia was somewhere in Arkansas, but Danny couldn't remember the name of the town. Besides, he hadn't seen her since he was about nine. What if she believed Maddie over him? Tucker and Sam suggested their own family members. Danny turned them down. He didn't want to be a burden to his friends' families.

In the end, they decided that he would blend in best in a big city far away from Amity. The next day, Danny climbed on a Greyhound bus headed to the East Coast. He couldn't hide the wings, no matter what he did. The best he could do was wrap the sleeping bag around himself like a blanket. Thankfully, no one on the bus seemed to care. They all had their own issues to worry about. Most seemed content to watch their phones or the scenery instead of looking too closely at the weird kid wrapped in a big, lumpy sleeping bag.

As the hours dragged on, Danny was increasingly greatful that everyone was minding their own business. There was something else wrong with him. His hands kept slipping through the sleeping bag. Going through solid objects, like a ghost.

The plan was to find a place in Metropolis that provided resources to meta kids. But by the time the bus reached Gotham Danny was exhausted and anxious. His hands had started to go through things. What if he went straight through the bus while it was driving? He had to get a handle on this. He could always go to Metropolis the next day.

Danny got off the bus. The city around him was gray and dreary, from the concrete sidewalks up to the cloud-covered sky. It felt like the sky was too close, more of a ceiling than an open expanse. Something about it gave Danny a strangely claustrophobic feeling. He tried to shrug it off as the lack of sleep catching up to him. The last time Danny slept was the night before the portal accident. That had been well over twenty-four hours ago. He needed to find a safe place to sleep.

#dpxdc #wingfic #my writing #t's writing #EGYW

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sillysillygoofygoose · 8 months

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Salt N' Peppa

Older boyfriend Toji headcanons... MDNI

I can't stop thinking about him y'all, I'm ill. I need him soooo bad. Tojjjiiiiii ☹️😫

First, let's get physical.

Toji's previously dusky locks are outshined by the thin streaks of silver and gray that plague his scalp. His hair falls right atop his eyebrow, still thick and strong.

Lifting weights and resistance training has become too strenuous on his muscles and joints. He's found that going to the gym is no longer one of his top priorities, but when he does occasionally break out his (practically decaying) gym membership, he can only walk on the treadmill. Even running is too much impact on his aging knees.

Because of this, Toji's body has slowly but surely lost muscle definition. His previously defined abs are now sheltered by a thin layer of fat. His shoulders stay broad and proud, however his biceps are becoming softer as the days pass. He's gained a fair amount of weight, his strong frame become more and more huggable.

Toji's facial features are still sharp, stern. He doesn't shave as often as he used to, a black and gray stuble decorating his face every few days. His looks are just as striking as they were when he was young. Maybe even more now, with a strong distinction of a life wildly lived.

His voice has become slightly gravely and deeper as a result of the cigarettes he used to smoke like they were good for him.

Now let's get into it, shall we?

Older Toji... Much, much older than you. He's definitely matured in his later years... after wasting his twenties, thirties, and early forties, with random hook-ups and throw-away relationships, he's finally looking to settle down. And that's where you come in.

A cute, young, pretty little thing like you would never go for Toji, he was sure of it.

The second you walked into the dingy bar Toji frequented every Friday night, his heart began to beat a little faster. You settled in the stool next to him and offered him a brazen smile before turning your attention to the bartender.

What could he possibly have in common with some twenty-something year old living it up on a Friday night?

However, Toji never lost his charm. And if there's one thing he's mastered in his forty-five years on earth, it's talking sweet.

Conversation came natural. Your sarcastic, sour, but sweet demeanor pulled him into you more.

He was honestly a bit taken a back when you began flirting with him, leading him to ask you how old you were.

"Jesus Christ, sweets, I'm old enough to be your dad." Toji barks out a laugh, lifting his glass of whiskey up to meet his scarred lips.

"Perfect." You smirked back

And before you knew it, the evening was fading into the witching hours of the night.

"I had a great time talking to you. How 'bout I take you home... W'dya say, pretty girl?"

"No. But you can take my number."

Toji has DEFINITELY grown into old man habits. At 9:30 at night, he's already rubbing his tired eyes, stretching out his stiff back, and dropping his jaw to let out a silent yawn. Whenever he sneezes, he sneezes with a goddamn purpose. Every joint in his body cracks upon sudden movement.

Toji sleeps like a log too. It's almost impossible to get him up in the morning, and even more challenging when his heavy arm is pining your chest to the orthopedic mattress. He snores like someone is plugging his nose, deep, heavy vibrations singing from his chest.

Toji has served time in his past. The years he spent in prison are rarely spoken about, but they undoubtedly did a heavy number on him, the effect visible in his first and final mugshots. Ever since he's gotten out, deep bags hang from eyes, sometimes darker, sometimes imperceptible, but forever present.

But he's stable now. As stable as ever. He's found peace in his relationship with you and stability in his (legal) job. To his surprise, he enjoys the aspects of a quiet life. He relishes in the comfort of being tied down to the pretty girl that has his heart wrapped around her finger.

Toji loves to make dinner for you. Every evening, without a hitch, he's standing above the stove, stirring a pot or sautéing some unions.

One day, you catch him reading a 'Parents' magazine, cover to cover.

"I just don't remember subscribing for it, s'all. Wanted to see if the mailman made a mistake. Don't get any ideas, sweetheart. 'M too old for that shit."

" I'm not, though."

Really, Toji thinks he wouldn't be a good dad. His perception of himself is stuck on the reckless young man he used to be. But, he would love to have a little nugget to care for, and he knows you'd make the perfect little mommy.

Toji was quick to make you his. After the third date he took you on, he bought an engagement ring. A year later, you had him down on one (very sore) knee. He knew exactly what he wanted, and he wanted you.

Sex with Toji is incredible, too... especially when his calf isn't cramping up and you two have to pause for a breather.

Toji has never really had an emotional connection with any of the women he slept with in his past. But you are so special. He can feel the burning passion every time he bullies his thick cock into your little cunt, pushing through your tight walls until your lower half is flush against his thick happy trail and dark bush of pubic hair.

Toji always holds you close to his less-defined chest after sex, mumbling sweet nothings to you while he rubs the soft skin of your back, a stark contrast to his rough, calloused and aged hands.

"I'm so lucky to have you. My pretty girl... Luckiest bastard in the whole world."

Hope you enjoyed! Xoxo

#jjk x reader #age difference #size difference #jjk #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #fem reader #toji x reader #toji smut #dilf toji #toji headcanons #toji zenin #toji x you

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beybaldes · 11 months

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trace the outlines of your dreams

summertime sleepover masterlist

dad!roy kent x mum!reader

summary : “Exhausted parents kiss” requested by anon.

an : takes place in the same universe as my fic ‘no thing defines a man like love that makes him soft’ because anon wanted Nell and I did too <3

“Come on Nell, you can do it. My little superstar.”

It was just you and Nell at home this weekend. Roy was at an away game with the team and Molly had the weekend off so unless she got called in for an emergency surgery, you doubted you’d be seeing any of Phoebe either.

From 10 months old, Nell had started throwing herself about in attempts to move around faster, so she’d picked up walking pretty quickly. But now she was bordering on 15 months old and had yet to get more out then a babble. Since the perfect opportunity to practice had presented itself, you’d spent the entire weekend trying to get her to say ‘Dada.’ She wasn’t taking to it.

“Come on, Nelly. Just one time, okay? Da-da.” Nell ignored you, stuffing as many of her tiny fingers as she could fit into her mouth. Knowing you weren’t going to get it out of her now and that Roy would be home soon, you left her to her toys, getting a head start on making dinner.

The sound of the door closing and a high pitched squeak alerted you to Roy’s arrival. As you walked to the front door, picking Nell up on your way, you greeted Roy with a soft smile. “Hey handsome, we missed you.”

“My two favourite girls.” Roy pressed a kiss to Nell’s forehead as she began to babble at him. “You have a good weekend?”

“Dada.”

The two of you stilled, both turning to Nell as she gave a toothless grin, clapping her hands together. “Dada, dada, dada.”

“The little shit.” That seemed to break Roy out the trance he’d been put into by Nell’s first words. “I’ve been trying to get her to say that all weekend, and the little fucker waits until the moment you walk through the door to say it.” You wrapped one arm around him, pulling you and Nell so that the both of you were pressed against him in a hug. “You were right, she’s a total daddy’s girl. Isn’t that right Nell?”

“Dada.” Apparently ‘dada’ was Nell’s new favourite word; she babbled it all the way through dinner, bath-time and her bedtime story, whispering the word over and over until she knocked out cold in Roy’s arms. Roy, however, had remained pretty much silent from the moment he’d walked through the door.

When he’d finally lay Nell down, and crept slowly out of her room, you practically pounced on him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a long, proper kiss. As you pulled apart, the both of you let out long sighs, the weight of the weekend spent apart, each filled with hard work, finally catching up to you. “Hmmm, bed?”

“Bed.” Roy confirmed with a grunt, throwing you over his shoulder and carrying you to the bedroom. Neither of you wasted time getting into your pyjamas and throwing yourself into bed, settling under the duvets and into each others arms.

One of your hands came to cradle Roy’s face, your thumb running over the apple of his cheek. “What’s wrong, handsome? That was the most I’ve heard from you since you got home.”

“She fucking called me Dad.” He whispered, the proudest smile you’d ever seen forming on his first. “I was her first fucking words.” Roy placed his hand on top of your own, running his thumb over the side of pointer finger. “Sometimes it just doesn’t feel real, y’know? All of this.”

“But it is.” You assured, pulling him flush against you so you could press another long and firm kiss to his lips. “And she worships the ground you walk on because you’re such a good dad to her. Of course, you were her first words.”

“I think you forget only one of us carried her for 9 months.”

“Hey, it’s just like you said.” Roy’s eyes were dropping closed, with each stroke of your thumb across his cheek. “She’s a real you girl, just like her mama.”

Roy pressed a sleepy and soft kiss to your jaw, then nuzzled himself against your chest, noticing the way your body shuddered at the scratch of his beard against your skin, trying to aid it by pressing a kiss to the top of your breast. “That she is.”

#beybaldes summer sleepover !!#roy kent imagine #roy kent x reader #roy kent one shot #ted lasso x reader #shoutout my beloved onceuponeaoneshotfanfic I think about superstar everyday of my life #I need more Roy Kent as a dad so pls send in dad!roy requests

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jacks347 · 1 month

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I feel like hurting people so let's talk about Redacted characters fatal flaws.

David - Obligation

I was originally going to say David's flaw was loyalty but I thought that was too surface level so I dug a little deeper and found something a bit more important. David carries a heavy weight of obligation on his shoulders. He runs the pack and the security company because it's what his dad would've wanted, he works to keep the pack going because people depend on him, he only met Angel cause Caelum made him. Everything in his life is because of feels obligated to keep said things going. He didn't want to be in this situation, he doesn't want to have to work as hard as he does but he knows he has to in order to maintain everything his father left him. David takes on so much because he thinks he has to and that kind of weight will crush him eventually. He's pulling himself in so many directions, something has to give. To put it in his own words, one of these times when he throws himself at the wall it won't be the thing that breaks.

Asher - Optimism

Asher, you sweet sweet bean, your joy will be the thing that destroys you. Asher has the Polites problem (see, I know Greek characters) in where his optimism is the thing that drives the group into a far more dangerous situation. Asher's hopeful belief that they could get through the Inversion almost got him killed. He is the sunshine character, he's the one that everyone expects to be happy, he holds the morale of the pack on his shoulders and that kind of pressure would be enough to make anyone crack. How long will it be until the happy-go-lucky attitude snaps under the weight?

Milo - Dedication

It's easy to say Milo is loyal to a fault. It's hard to say he has a gravely misplaced sense of dedication. Milo feels he has something to prove, he always has. Prove to himself and the rest of the pack that he's useful, he has a place, he has a purpose in this pack. Milo has dedicated his life to proving his worth and that dedication to a harmful cause will be the thing that kills him. Hell, it already almost did. If another event like the Inversion happens, he might not make it out.

Sam - Independence

Sam is an interesting case because his need to be independent won't kill him physically as much as it will mentally. He has worked so hard to make sure other people's actions don't define him that he instinctively isolates himself. He keeps everyone at arm's length so that if and when they do something that hurts the people around them, he won't be caught in the blast radius. But that changes when he meets Darlin, someone who also keeps people at arm's length and doesn't let anyone get close. There's an argument to be made in how Sam seems himself in Darlin and that's why he felt so inclined to help them (beyond just hating Quinn) but not the point I'm making. Sam runs from problems before they can affect him and when the pack dies, he'll be stuck in a problem he can't run from. Sam may not die after the pack is gone but he will fade into the background. Sam will be lost in time, clinging to memories of a time that he let people in as those too eventually fade into the aether of history.

Vincent - Naivety

I heavily considered giving Vincent independence as his fatal flaw too cause it very well could be but we don't do doubles in this house and there is a far more deadly flaw in him and that's his naivety. Vincent is blind to his situation, he doesn't understand most of it because he's been shielded from it. He lacks understanding of what it really means to be a vampire, let alone one in such a well known house. And it's in that where we see his mistake with Lovely. Vincent turned Lovely without fully understanding his own place and therefore doesn't understand the responsibilities he's putting onto Lovely by bringing them into it. It's the blind leading the blind. This lack of real understanding I think will be what tears him apart.

Porter - Peace

Now, this one is hard to explain. How is peace a fatal flaw? Rather simply, actually. You find peace in a situation that you choose not to change. Porter is William's guard dog because he doesn't feel like he deserves to be anything more. He does as asked because he thinks it's all he good for. He had made his peace with the fact that he believes he's not worth anything more than the blood he can spill. Which is wrong and flawed. And it's in that peace in the situation he doesn't believe he deserves to change that will get him killed. If he doesn't convince himself he's worth more than this, it'll be the thing that does him in.

Gavin - Humanity

Gavin's sense of humanity may not necessarily kill him but it will cause an untold amount of pain. Gavin has distanced himself so far from the world of demons in order to choose his own path and be who he is that he's forgotten this world isn't his. Elegy owes him nothing and it'll give him as much. It's the immortal lover problem, he will survive long after Freelancer and the others are gone and it will break him. I've mentioned before that Gavin and Porter are two sides of the same character but what's interesting is how their stories seem to be going in opposite directions until they eventually switch places. When Gavin loses the people that give him a sense of humanity, he will fall to what he believes he has to be in order to survive while Porter is learning that he can be more than what's expected of him and will hold that sense of pride I believe long after Treasure is gone.

Escaped, you're next. Prepare.

#honestly this was a lot of fun #twas a good thought experiment #because it forces you to look at the entirety of a character's story #look at the big picture #more to come #pinky promise #asmr roleplay #redacted audio #redacted asmr #redacted david #redacted asher #redacted milo #redacted sam #redacted vincent #redacted porter #redacted gavin #redacted shaw pack #redacted solaire clan #redacted damn crew

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strongheartneteyam · 1 year

Text

I wish I could

Pairing: Neteyam Sully x female!curvy!human reader

CW: lots of fluff, angst, jealous neteyam, sexual tension, confession of feelings, heated make out session. I think that's all lol

Chapter 3

♡

Chapter 2

♡

Two days had passed. Neteyam goes to sleep at night thinking about the wonderful time he had spent with you that day. You had come over again. He always got to spend time with you because you were really close to Kiri, his adoptive sister. He was actually jealous of how much time you spent with her. But you would always come to their house to visit because of her and Tuk, so he considered himself lucky that he got to spend so much time next to you. With all that time you spent close to each other, maybe you could start seeing his qualities and see him as "mate material", like the human girls would refer to na'vi they were interested in. It came from "boyfriend material", an old human expression. He found that out when he asked Kiri what "mate material" meant and she fell to the floor laughing at him. He thought that reaction to be so dramatic but again, it was Kiri, after all. She was so goofy.

That day you guys had spent many hours together and had a great talk. You weren't as close as when you were children but you were still really good friends. He cherished every moment he had spent with you, hearing you laugh at his jokes, eating fruits together, watching the nature below as you sat at the edge of a tree next to the Sully's home, your four legs bouncing in the air as you talked about trivial things.

He fell asleep thinking about that and was woken up in the morning by Lo'ak.

"Hey, dude. Time to wake up and go train with dad. He's waiting for us outside. You know he's not that patient."

Neteyam sighed and started to rise his upper body from his mat. It seemed to weight a ton since he was so sleepy.

He went back to his normal routine as you spent some days without visiting. He always suffered when it happened. But what could he do? You already spent so much time at his parents house that if he asked you to come over more often it would be so weird.

One day he was walking through the trees and he found you, laying on the floor and listening to music with those odd devices humans had. They were called earbuds. You were always with a pair of those. Neteyam knew you loved music and that was something you two bonded over. You introduced him to music from the planet Earth. There was a song that you had shown him one day that he really liked. It was called Stairway to Heaven, by a band that lived on Earth more than a century ago, called Led Zeppelin. The melody was really beautiful and he knew you loved that song too.

He slowly walked closer to you so that he wouldn't startle you, as you could not hear him with the earbuds on. He slowly appeared at your sight when you were staring into the sky and you smiled and took your earbuds off.

"Hey! Do you wanna lay by my side?" You said, a big smile on your face

"I would love to." He said and lied close to you

You took one of your earbuds in your hand and looked at him, signaling that he could listen to music with you if he wanted to.

He took the offer and put the small device in his ear.

The song that was playing was really beautiful and he asked you what was its name.

"It's Enchanted by Taylor Swift. She was a very successful singer at her time on Earth, in the 21st century. I love this song so much."

Neteyam listened close to the lyrics that went like this:

The lingering question kept me up

2 AM, who do you love?

I wonder 'til I'm wide awake

And now I'm pacing back and forth

Wishing you were at my door

I'd open up and you would say

Hey, it was enchanting to meet you

All I know is, I was enchanted to meet you

It was almost funny how those lyrics defined how he felt about you.

"It's a really beautiful song." He said

"I love it too." You smiled at him "I understand the lyrics very well. It's hard but exciting at the same time to love someone and not know if they love you back and stay up until late thinking about them."

Neteyam was now jealous. Did you choose a mate and he didn't know? Were you courting someone and he never noticed? Or was he a human and you were talking and spending time together, as humans did instead of bringing gifts and food to their love interest like the na'vi did. It couldn't be... He wished so hard it wasn't real.

"A-are you in love with someone?" He asked you and weirdly enough you could hear the nervousness in his voice

"Hmm..." the question and the way he sounded was a surprise to you. Could it really be what you were thinking? Did the boy you love, love you back? Your heart jumped with excitement at the thought.

"I never even told Kiri about it but... I trust you can keep my secret. I am in love with a boy."

Neteyam looked sadly at you. His heart ached when he thought about any other male calling you his mate.

"Do I know him?" He asked

You felt something in your belly and wanted so bad to tell him it was him the boy you were talking about. Should you? You pondered.

"You do know him. He's a very handsome and well respected na'vi young male. He comes from a very good family."

"You seem to really like him..." Neteyam said, looking down

"I do. So much." You said while your heart broke seeing him in pain. It was so obvious, you could see it written all over his perfect face. He really seemed to be in love with you.

You wanna throw in the towel and tell him. You guys are listening to a beautiful romantic song, alone, in the middle of the forest. What moment could be more appropriate?

You decide that "screw it". You are gonna tell him you love him. He seemed so sad that you were in love with someone that wasn't him. But of course it was him, he just didn't know that.

"I've known him since forever..." You said, hoping he would know who you're talking about "We would run through the trees when we were 5 as his grandma would keep an eye on us in case any dangerous animal appeared."

Neteyam's heart started to pound inside his chest. Did you say what he thought you had said? Was he the boy you were in love with?

He smiled and with a wide-eyed gaze he said:

"I don't know if I'm going crazy here but..." he swallowed his saliva before proceeding "Could you be talking about me?" He asked, hoping you would say "yes"

"Maybe this will answer you" You leaned closer to him and kissed his lips

You didn't know what came over you. You were definitely not that confident. What if somehow you were wrong and he wasn't in love with you too?

This thought was soon washed away from your head when Neteyam grabbed your face with one hand and kissed you back. His lips were burning with desire for you. He couldn't believe that was actually happening.

He started moaning into your lips as it felt just so good to kiss your sweet mouth. He pulled you closer grabbing your leg and bringing it over his own.

You felt so high feeling his big hand in your leg, like you had dreamed of so many times, irradiating heat in the skin your shorts left uncovered. You lived like the na'vi but you still wore human clothes. It would be too weird for you not to. But you didn't wear clothes that covered much skin and wore accessories your na'vi mom had made for you, like a big necklace and beautiful bracelets. So, your style still made you look similar to the na'vi girls.

Neteyam opened his lips wider and took your bottom lip inside of his mouth, kissing it passionately. It was so good that you moaned in his lips. He gave you some more wet kisses and said "I love you, (y/n). This seems too good to be true. I can't believe you kissed me. I can't believe you want me too."

"I love you, Teyam. I want to be yours. Forever. Do you wanna be mine?"

"I already am, my sweetheart." He said as he surprised you by laying on top of you. You could feel how heavy he was even if he was trying not to put all his weight on your frail body, supporting himself on the floor with one of his arms.

"Oel ngati kameie" He said, his hand touching his forehead. You knew that meant "I see you" in the na'vi language. Your heart started beating at the speed of light and tears filled your eyes

"I see you, Teyam." You answered

Neteyam's hand traveled from your thigh to your hip, grabbing it and then going to your thigh again and opening one of your legs so he could get between them. He leaned closer to your face and kissed your lips. He then put his tongue in your lips and you opened your mouth and let it touch your own. Feeling his hot, wet tongue licking yours felt so feral. You were starting to get really horny for him. It felt even better when he started sucking your tongue.

☆•.°☆•.°☆•.°

Sooo. What do you guys think? Leave any opinions at the comments. I love reading your comments 🥰 Next chapter is gonna be smut 😈

I'm a tagging some really nice people that left a comment on the chapter 1 of this story asking to be tagged.

@lik0

@behindthearcane

💙💕

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neopuppy · 10 months

Note

Can we get another Teddy Bear tease? It’s been awhile🙏🏽

I have no idea when you sent this sorry, but it hasss been awhile huh… vnejcjejkskwkx yeah(see, im nice☺️)

‘Waiting for you by the north gate entrance.’

Shit shit shit. What the fuck. Jeno said he wouldn’t be able to pick you up today.

Fuck, what if you smell like Haechan, knowing Jeno he’d be able to tell. There’s no way you can come up with something quick enough to get him off your ass, another text alerts you, demanding for you to hurry up.

‘If you’re not out here in the next 50 seconds I’m coming inside.’

Fuck. You really fucked up this time, fear picks up your pace to jog through the hallway corridor faster, dodging your classmates bodies left and right until you near the exit short of breath and look out to see your… Jeno, stepping out from the driver’s seat in a rush.

“There you are.” He smiles, a big smile, the type that reaches his eyes. The one that’s only for show, for others to coo and aww at. The one that garners close-to-ear whispers behind hands and envious eyes bouncing back and forth from you to Jeno.

“Why her?”

Everyone asks, everyone wants to know. You never asked before, until one day the voices broke you down and found yourself constantly repeating between thoughts- ‘why me?’

You’d never ask Jeno, you never ask him anything.. but right now, as you nervously force your lips into a measly smile and the cramp forming in your stomach nearly makes you trip down the grass hill leading to where his cars parked awaiting you with the passenger door open; you hear the repetitive ‘why me?’ once again.

“That’s funny.” Jeno says under his breath, leaning in to wrap around your waist. “You never smile at me.” He whispers near your ear, taking a step back to look over your face. “What’s up?”

The way his head tilts scrutinizing your face makes your chest cave, lips pressed together tightly as his eyelashes fan down over his iris the more he lowers toward your neck, the collar of your shirt the only saving grace to not fear that Haechan left behind any incriminating evidence of what took place less than an hour ago.

“Hmm..” Jeno reaches forward before you have a chance to react, tugging you closer by the pressed edges of your collared shirt. “Now why is your top button undone..”

He can see the way your throat jumps, hollowing out between your collarbones with each dry nervous swallow. “And your necklace.”

Your choker, he means. Fuck your choker. The lucid memory of Haechan angrily pulling on the teddy charm adorning the strap squeezing your neck makes your teeth grit, hidden behind your quivering lips.

“Strange.” Jeno’s eyebrows gather together, the gleam in his eyes darkening despite afternoon sun illuminating down on him, highlighting every defined flawless attractive feature. “You’ve never disobeyed me this much before.”

“Wha—“

“You know you’re supposed to always have this uncovered. Why did I dip into my savings and risk getting chewed out by my dad? For you to try to make me a secret?” Jeno finishes buttoning your shirt back up, digits reaching beneath the leather to adjust the charm’s position while adding more pressure, losing the tiny centimeter of space between your neck and the material. “Did something happen while I was gone?”

“No!” Your reactions too fast, fast enough to fully widen his suspicious gaze, mouth tensed as he meets your eyes. “I—I had to.. to participate..”

“In what?”

“Physical Ed.. you know I always sit out with you.” Jeno watched your choice of physical activity: yoga— for less than a week before deciding this form of education benefited you in no way. Something about those ridiculous yoga pants you wore only seemed to distract the group of weight lifting class across the gym. He finessed doctor's slips for the both of you to sit out and study instead. “Coach didn’t let me today.. she said there's no way my period cramps last all month. I must have forgotten to fix my necklace after getting dressed, I’m sorry..”

Jeno nods, smoothing his thumb over your warm cheek, hot from anxiety rising the longer you stand there and risk the chance of running into Haechan on his way home. “That bitch. I’ll deal with her tomorrow.”

He pauses again, a contemplative look taking over as he reaches for your hair and smooths down fly aways. “No wonder you look sweaty. Must have been working hard, using all of your body and stamina.” Jeno’s tone lowers to a whisper, gently pressing under your lash line. “Even smeared your mascara..”

“I really should take a shower.” You say, managing to speak quickly without stutter. “Didn’t have a chance to after class.”

“That’s fine.” Leaning in, his nose presses to your jugular taking a deep inhale. “I like it, smell like you just got fucked.” Reaching for your lower back, Jeno moves you forward toward the passenger seat, the facade of a nice boyfriend(or whatever he is) vanishes with the turn of his head.

You learned quickly to let him do what he wants after receiving nothing but hard stares to shut you down. Jeno wants things done his way, even buckling your seatbelt is his responsibility.

The engine vibrates as you wait for him to settle into his seat and back out of the parking lot, just barely missing Haechan’s exit by a few seconds.

It’s silent on the way home, tense and thick. Maybe it’s guilt, your guilt, guilt you can’t understand carrying. Why should you feel guilty? Does Jeno deserve that? Is it really because Haechan didn’t feel like Jeno? Because he didn’t make you relinquish control, didn’t make you feel special? Is that what Jeno does? He makes you feel like nothing else matters to him more than you?

Biting your nails raw, down to the rough neglected skin beneath until the tips of your fingers ache, you’re unsure if it's the silence that bothers you more or your spiraling thoughts screaming louder and louder. “Was everything okay? With your dad?”

Jeno comes to a stop at a red light, tapping the steering wheel, lips parting open into a half smile. “I didn’t think you’d ask me.”

He doesn’t turn to look at you, only glancing from the corner of his eye, sleek and cold. “You never ask me anything.”

A dry breathy laugh passes through his nose, stepping on the gas again as you near the neighborhood you’ve become more familiar with than your own by now. “Did you miss me that much today, Teddy?” He’s grinning, stoically, and if you blink too long you’d miss the way his head shakes in disbelief.

Shutting off his car, he turns and reaches for your chin to lift your face up. It’s your best effort to appear as nothing, not display an ounce of guilt or shame, but not smile or stare back too long— because that would be out of character. “Is there something you need to tell me?”

The gleam passing his gaze is damn near menacing, adjusting your face side to side as if he’s inspecting for damage. “Did something happen while I was gone?”

The most you give him is a barely noticeable shake of your head, gaze lowered to your lap, nothing out of the ordinary.

Jeno leans over the space between you, tilting your gaze back to him, digits spread out along your jaw for more control. “I think..”

He presses closer, forehead connecting to yours leaving just an inch of space between your nose and lips. Lips that left behind their moisture and shine on another man and a tongue that you fear may still carry remnants of his taste. “My Teddy..”

Jeno’s lips graze yours enough to hitch your breath, shutting the seam of your mouth shut. That doesn’t stop him from cupping your face, overtaking power and pushing your lips forward with the pressure of his palms squeezing you in. “You’re starting to like me more than you realize.”

He kisses the swell of your pout, biting his lower lip for a second to admire how swollen and worn your mouth looks; as if someone has sucked on the fleshy fat roughly. Someone reckless who could give a shit about you. “Or at least more than you’re ready to admit.”

Jeno lets go, leaving you gasping for breath as he sits back and studies your reaction. “Kiss me.”

It’s not a question, it’s not even a demand, he’s too relaxed. It’s expectant, because you’ll listen to him, if you know what’s good for you; and you do.

There’s no way to crawl between the front seats without it being awkward, having to reach for Jeno’s thigh to keep yourself sturdy. He huffs to mask a laugh, turning away when you direct a pout toward his lips. “Kiss me the way you really want to.”

He knows you don’t want to, but he doesn’t know why; and maybe that’s where your guilt stems from, because you can still taste Haechan between your teeth.

“Go on.” Jeno’s head rests against his seat, eyebrows raised waiting. You manage to slip onto his lap after banging your knee into the cup holder, gripping onto his shoulders to align your weight onto his crotch. The same way he likes to hold you in the evening while playing games with your head laid on his chest.

Jeno kisses you everyday, he kisses you. You could trace the shape of his lips with your eyes shut at this point, subconsciously you even notice whenever he reapplies chapstick from the light menthol scene alone.

There’s something you’ve noticed over time as you lean in and breathe out nervously across his impatient mouth. Jeno never looks away first, he watches for your response to everything, silently analyzing the tiniest smallest movements. He has to, because you give him nothing else, and he does it well. Even now with your eyes falling shut too nervous to look at him up close, he stays tuned in to your bottom lip trembling, the little twitch between your eyebrows and how much your hands shake while gliding up to his neck.

This shouldn’t feel like your first kiss with him, not after everything, but it does. You’re the one in control, you’re the one applying pressure and taking time to feel out just how soft his lips actually are when they aren’t roughly prying your mouth open to shove his tongue inside. The tightness beneath your palms even seems to relax the more you move between top and bottom lip, gently sucking and pulling them between yours.

Jeno doesn’t move, he even lets his hands rests by his thighs despite itching to gather your waist and grind you down against him. He wants to see how far you’ll go on your own, especially after today; because maybe you needed this time apart, albeit only a few hours, but maybe you needed to be alone to understand just how much you need him.

“I’m not a good kisser..” you finish with a light as a feather peck at the corner of his mouth, dropping your face embarrassed. “It’s better when you do it.”

Oh? He perks up at that, giving into his desire with hands encompassing your waist. “You’re good, you just..”

He rubs up and down your sides, letting out a long sigh while looking you over. “You don’t like me, right?” Jeno bites down a smile, nodding to himself. He knows you’d pour your soul into a kiss with Haechan, you probably always dream of some ridiculously romantic rekindling of your relationship: fixing all the damage with one kiss.

“That’s not it—“

“You don’t.” He nods again, an accepting nod.

And it’s okay, because you still have hope, you still have so much hope that Haechan will save you. That your stupid childhood first love still carries you deep within his heart the way you always have, because you have so much good left inside of you in spite of every obstacle put in your way. Jeno likes that, that’s why he befriended Haechan in the first place, because good people are rare to come by.

But Haechan is not a good person anymore, and soon enough your spark will burn out too.

#asks #WIP

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stevesbipanic · 1 year

Text

Under the Tree

Finally my contribution for @thefreakandthehair spicy six winter challenge. This was a lot of fun, my prompt was “Um, I got you something.” / “You got me something?” Hope you enjoy!

The first Christmas after the defeat of Vecna was an important one. It was the first Christmas that they didn’t have to worry about seeing flickering lights or brandishing weapons. The kids could be kids, and the adults could be too.

Steve Harrington could count on one hand the number of good Christmas’ he could remember. He assumed that the Christmas’ before he was 5 were adequate enough, but, the year he turned 5 he remembers his mother baking gingerbread with him and his dad playing basketball with him out on the driveway Christmas morning. They never would again. When he was 19, he spent Christmas with the Buckley’s. It was a warm Christmas filled with love and laughter; one he’ll treasure forever. This year, age 20, Steve hopes to add another good Christmas to his collection.

Joyce insisted on hosting, and no one was going to tell her no. After all, the Hopper-Byers now lived in a beautiful house just on the edge of the woods, you could bike to Hopper’s old cabin which had now been turned into a sort of club house for the kids, Hellfire was regularly held there now that Eddie had graduated. Steve had spent all of November getting gifts for his family, not his parents, he hadn’t heard from them since they sold the house and moved to Washington after the earthquake. No, his real family, he spent weeks making sure everyone got the perfect gift. He had had to hide Robin’s gift at Dustin’s now that he shared an apartment with her and was quite the snoop, not that Steve minded, he liked how intertwined their lives were. He had thought of hiding it at Nancy’s new place, but she had become less tight-lipped about secrets since her and Robin had gotten together.

That was another new thing, Robin and Nancy, the two who fell together so perfectly after everything that happened. Steve was the least surprised, when they told him he’d claimed it made sense due to him having great taste in women, they knew he was joking. Steve knew because he could see how well the two of the complimented each other. Nancy was patient and happy to listen and let Robin work through a problem by rambling. Robin was supportive but tough when it came to both Nancy’s goals but also her health. They had both taken gap years to revaluate their goals and desires while also taking a well-deserved break. The future could wait another year for them to have time to heal hidden wounds.

Steve was glad there was no bad blood between them and Jonathan, they’d all repaired their relationships over the years, figuring out platonic and romantic loves and wants, Steve could call Jonathan his brother (he was suspicious that Joyce had filled out adoption papers somewhere) and let old demons lie. With Jonathan had come Argyle, someone Steve didn’t know how the party went so long without. Argyle was a steadying presence, reminding them that they’re not defined by what happened to them and telling deep truths, usually high but the fact still stood. Steve was glad the two of them had each other, he could see years of emotional weight be lifted off Jon’s shoulders whenever Argyle was around.

Even the kids had matured, and not just in the way that trauma matures someone. Steve could see them let go of childish desires like the first love romance between Mike and El that grew into more a relationship like Steve and Nancy, stronger as friends. Dustin still called Suzie every weekend but Steve knew they both had a good head on their shoulders, he liked to think any kid that came from them would probably solve all the world’s problems in a day. Lucas and Max had worked so much on their communication, understanding each other’s needs now more than ever.

Maybe it’s why Steve had spent so long making sure they all had the perfect gift. A small part of Steve that still held doubt, a grain of doubt so rooted inside of him from childhood that it may never leave. The part of him that worried about being forgotten and left behind, the part of him that drove him to always be useful. He’d gotten high with Eddie in the first week of December and poured his heart out to him about it, Eddie hadn’t said anything in reply, he hadn’t needed to, Steve could see in his eyes they shared the same fears.

Eddie’s gift had been the most important, for reasons Steve could only confront in the safety of his own apartment, huddled under blankets with Robin late at night. Reasons that simultaneously made him feel whole and completely exposed. In the end the gift had been a mixtape, a perfect blend of their music tastes woven together with Steve telling Eddie about how the songs make him feel, about life, about Eddie, ending with his final confession. Steve hopes he doesn’t hear it until he gets home.

The party is in full swing, it had snowed the night before leaving plenty of soft snow to play in, distracting the kids from asking about presents until after dinner. They had all gathered around the tree, slowly but surely passing out gifts. Hugs and thanks were shared amongst the group, Steve felt his heart fill with warmth with every piece of gratitude or handmade card sent his way. Eddie’s eyes had twinkled when he’d read the tape’s description as being “Eddie’s Mix”, a promise for later dancing across his features. Paper picked up and clothes changed, the kids had settled in front of the television with mattress’ pulled from every room. Joyce and Hopper had retired with promises of making breakfast in the morning. The remaining two couples had either joined the kids or disappeared for their own festive celebration, leaving only Eddie and Steve finishing the dishes in the kitchen.

“So, a mix tape, Stevie? Do I have to worry about an hour long “Last Christmas” brainwashing?”

Steve had laughed putting away the last plate, Eddie had come over to help wrap presents and Steve’s record had gotten caught on the same track, they both nearly lost their minds.

“I can’t promise no Wham! but I think Last Christmas has had enough of a turn this year, Eds.”

Eddie smiled and took the edge of Steve’s sweater in his hands, grabbing a blanket and leading Steve out onto the porch. The two boys sat in the cold, huddled together under the blanket, listening to the quiet of the woods. The quiet brought them so much peace, no calls for help, no creatures to go bump in the night, just them and their heartbeats.

“Um, I got you something.”

“You got me something?”

Eddie chuckled, “Of course I did, sweetheart, just didn’t want to put it with the rest of the gifts, didn’t think it would fit.”

Steve raised an eyebrow at this, “What is it?”

Eddie looked nervous now, slowly he pulled off one of his rings, it was one of the simpler ones. Steve always thought it stood out against the skulls and horror of the others. A small black stone set in silver, vines slicing through the metal. Eddie took Steve’s hand and slid the ring onto his finger.

“You always play with this one when you’re upset about something, figured it’d be better if you had it even when I wasn’t around.”

Steve felt seen, Eddie had comforted him through a lot after March, offering words and touch and even his ring to make Steve feel better.

“Eddie. Thank you.”

“Of course, Stevie.”

“But wait, how couldn’t this fit under the tree?”

“Well, there’s a second part to it, if you want it.”

Steve had missed many things in his life, but he didn’t miss the question in Eddie’s eyes.

“I’d really like the rest of my gift, Eddie.”

Eddie leant in slowly, still giving Steve the opportunity to move away, to say no, to leave Eddie behind. Steve didn’t though, he was never going to leave Eddie behind, would never forget him. Their lips touched, cold from the night air, and it felt like the final puzzle slotting into place. Eventually, they pulled away, just enough to catch their breath, foreheads still touching.

“Yeah, you would’ve looked weird with a bow on your head under the tree.”

“Maybe next year I’ll do it just for you.”

Steve smiled, he couldn’t wait for next year, and every year after that he got to spend with Eddie.

#LexsWinterFicChallenge #StrangerThingsFestiveFun #spicy six #steddie #steve harrington #sorry ive been gone the festive season took me out #but im back #stuff is coming #eddie munson #fic #cross posted on ao3 #fluff #winter #christmas #minor ronance #minor jargyle

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traldemic6 · 1 year

Text

A Home Run - Male Weight Gain Story

Pt. 1

Once upon a time in a small suburban town, there lived a man named Frank and his high school age son, Jimmy. Frank was a loving father who enjoyed watching his son play baseball for their local high school team. As a freshman, Jimmy was a passionate and skilled player, quickly becoming an integral part of the team. He loved the game and was determined to excel on the field.

But as Jimmy's freshman year of high school progressed, his coach approached Frank with a surprising request: he wanted Jimmy to gain weight, believing that it would increase his hitting power and help the team win crucial games. Despite the unusual suggestion, Jimmy was eager to take on the challenge. He loved the idea of contributing to the team in a new way and was willing to make the necessary changes.

So, Jimmy embarked on a less-healthy lifestyle, indulging in junk food and cutting back on his exercise routine. Frank would often catch Jimmy sneaking desserts late at night in the kitchen, wearing his too-tight underwear that could barely contain his growing body. Frank couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of his son's expanding frame and the amusing situations that arose from it.

Over the course of the year, Jimmy's size increased, and his clothes began to show the strain. His shirts stretched tightly over his round belly, and his pants struggled to contain his growing behind. One day during practice, as Jimmy attempted to slide into base, the seams of his pants gave way with a loud ripping sound, leaving him in a rather embarrassing predicament. He couldn't help but laugh along with his teammates as he waddled off the field.

As Jimmy's sophomore year began, his weight continued to climb, and he fully lost the ability to run. Instead of excelling on the field, Jimmy found himself cheering from the sidelines, supporting his teammates with his unwavering positivity.

Despite his declining performance, Jimmy and his dad didn't mind at all. They shared many laughs about the situation and focused on the positives. Frank took the opportunity to bond with his son over their shared love of the game, regardless of the outcome, and found humor in the dramatic changes to Jimmy's body.

Throughout the years, Frank would often reflect on how much Jimmy's body had changed since his freshman year. He marveled at the transformation from a lean, athletic player to a young man whose weight had become a defining feature. Frank appreciated the joy and laughter they had shared through the unexpected journey, even if it meant that Jimmy's baseball skills had diminished.

As they stood side by side at Jimmy's high school graduation, Frank couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of love and admiration for his son. Jimmy had faced challenges with humor and grace, never allowing his physical changes to dampen his spirits or his love for the game. And in the end, as they looked back on their shared experiences, they knew that the bond they had formed through laughter, acceptance, and unconditional love was worth every amusing moment.

Pt. 2

As Jimmy's junior year of high school began, the effects of his less-healthy lifestyle became even more apparent. His body continued to grow, and his fitness declined rapidly. His once-toned arms had become soft and doughy, and his expanding waistline led to a pronounced waddle as he walked down the school hallways.

Jimmy's once chiseled jawline had disappeared, replaced by round, full cheeks that gave him a cherubic appearance. His once sturdy legs now struggled to support his increasing weight, and he would often find himself out of breath after even the shortest of walks.

Despite his physical changes, Jimmy remained a fixture on the baseball team, though his role had shifted significantly. Instead of being an asset on the field, he now served as the team's emotional support, cheering on his teammates and offering words of encouragement from the dugout. His fellow players appreciated his unwavering positivity, even as his own athletic abilities had all but vanished.

Frank, ever the supportive father, continued to attend Jimmy's games and practices, finding humor and pride in his son's unwavering dedication to the team. He would often watch in amusement as Jimmy struggled to squeeze into his baseball uniform, which had become increasingly tight as his body continued to expand. The sight of his son's once athletic frame now enveloped in layers of soft flesh was a testament to the unconventional path they had chosen.

During the offseason, Frank and Jimmy would go to the local park, attempting to keep some semblance of a workout routine. However, as Jimmy's weight continued to climb, these sessions became more about bonding and laughter than fitness. Frank would chuckle as he watched his son attempt to jog around the park, his body jiggling with every labored step.

Jimmy's increasing size did not go unnoticed by his classmates and teachers either. The once agile athlete had become the subject of good-natured teasing and jokes, and Jimmy, always one to embrace humor, would often join in on the laughter. He had come to accept and even enjoy his new physique, knowing that it was a part of his unique high school journey.

Throughout his junior year, Jimmy's body and fitness continued to decline, but his spirit and love for the game never wavered. As they approached the end of the season, Frank couldn't help but feel a mixture of amusement, pride, and admiration for his son.

Pt. 3

After Jimmy's team physical exam during his junior year, Frank waited patiently in the doctor's office, eager to hear how the checkup went. When Jimmy finally emerged from the examination room, he wore a grin on his face that Frank recognized all too well. It was clear that the team doctor had expressed some concerns about Jimmy's weight, but Jimmy seemed completely unfazed.

As they left the doctor's office, Frank couldn't help but chuckle at his son's nonchalant attitude. "So, I take it the doc mentioned your weight?" Frank asked, a teasing smile on his face.

Jimmy laughed, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, he said I should consider losing a few pounds and work on my fitness. But you know what, Dad? I'm not too worried about it. I'm happy with who I am and how I've been supporting the team."

Frank smiled, proud of his son's positive outlook and unwavering self-confidence. "Well, in that case," he said, giving Jimmy a playful nudge, "how about we celebrate with some greasy takeout? I think we both deserve a treat after that appointment."

Jimmy's eyes lit up at the suggestion, and he eagerly agreed. As they climbed into the car, Frank noticed how large Jimmy looked sitting in the passenger seat. His clothes strained against his ample frame, and the seatbelt barely fit around his waist. Despite the doctor's concerns, Frank found amusement in the situation, admiring his son's ability to embrace his body and maintain his upbeat attitude.

They pulled into their favorite fast-food joint, and Frank watched as Jimmy excitedly placed an order large enough to feed a small army. As they waited for their meal, they joked about the doctor's concerns and the various ways Jimmy's growing size had impacted their lives. They shared stories of Jimmy's outgrowing his clothes and the comical situations that had arisen during his baseball games.

When they finally got their takeout, they headed home, enjoying every greasy, delicious bite as they continued to laugh and bond over the unexpected journey they had shared. For Frank, seeing his son so happy and content with himself was worth every concern or challenge they had faced along the way.

Pt. 4

It was a hot summer day between Jimmy's junior and senior year, and Frank had decided to fire up the grill for a family barbecue. As he prepared the hot dogs and hamburgers, he glanced over at his son, who was lounging by the pool in a tight-fitting Speedo. Jimmy was happily sipping on sodas and snacking on chips, enjoying the sun and showing off his large body with pride.

Frank couldn't help but laugh at the sight of Jimmy in his old swim team Speedo. It fit him perfectly back when he was a freshman and still on the swim team, but now it was stretched to its limits, barely containing his ample behind. The image was both amusing and endearing, serving as a reminder of the incredible changes Jimmy had undergone over the past few years.

Deciding to join in on the fun, Jimmy slid into the pool with a loud splash, causing a small tidal wave that drenched his nearby snacks. He swam a few leisurely laps, a far cry from the competitive swimmer he had once been. As he floated around, Frank couldn't help but reminisce about the days when Jimmy was a lean, athletic force in the water.

Finally, Frank announced that the hot dogs were ready, and Jimmy eagerly climbed out of the pool, his excitement palpable. As he made his way towards his father, the waterlogged Speedo finally succumbed to the pressure, ripping apart and exposing Jimmy's backside in a hilarious wardrobe malfunction.

Both father and son burst into laughter at the sight, doubled over in hysterics. Jimmy, ever the good sport, simply wrapped a nearby towel around his waist, still chuckling at the absurdity of the situation.

As they sat down to enjoy their hot dogs, Frank looked at his son with a mixture of amusement and love. The journey they had shared, filled with laughter and unexpected twists, had only served to strengthen their bond. And as they laughed together over Jimmy's latest mishap, Frank couldn't help but think that the memories they had created were worth every ripped seam and stretched piece of fabric.

Pt. 5

It was a crisp fall day before Thanksgiving, and Jimmy, feeling a sudden burst of motivation, decided to go for a run. After digging through his closet and finding an old pair of running shoes and some oversized sweatpants, he set out with determination, ready to see if he could reclaim some of his former athleticism.

However, the run proved to be a greater challenge than he had anticipated. After only a few minutes of jogging, Jimmy found himself out of breath and struggling to keep up a steady pace. His once-powerful legs now felt heavy and sluggish, and his substantial frame jiggled with each labored step. Realizing that his fitness had deteriorated far more than he had thought, Jimmy gave up on the run and returned home, feeling both exhausted and amused by the experience.

As he walked through the front door, Jimmy's dad, Frank, looked up from the kitchen, where he had been prepping for their Thanksgiving feast. "How was the run, champ?" he asked with a teasing grin, knowing full well that Jimmy's attempt at exercise might not have gone smoothly.

Jimmy chuckled, wiping the sweat from his brow. "Let's just say, Dad, that I've got a long way to go before I'm back in my freshman year shape," he admitted, still trying to catch his breath. "It's amazing how much my fitness has changed."

Frank smiled, empathizing with his son's struggle. "Well, you know what they say, practice makes perfect. But for now, how about we whip up some dessert to celebrate your effort?"

Jimmy's eyes lit up at the suggestion, and he nodded eagerly. As they worked together in the kitchen, Frank couldn't help but observe the changes that had occurred in Jimmy's body over the years. The once lean and muscular frame had been replaced by soft, round curves, and his son's face was now full and cherubic.

#weight gain

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sisterofficerlucychen · 3 months

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new fic - sneak peek

tw: mentions of death & chlid abuse

The three missed calls are unexpected but he doesn't think much of it when he walks into the kitchen to find that his sister had been calling. His nephews had just slept over during the week that his immediate thought had been that either boys had forgotten something that Genny needed him to drop off; it wouldn’t be the first time nor would it be the last. He chuckles at the thought, placing the outgoing call as he thinks about how he'll jokingly tell her that Kojo unfortunately ate Tyler’s homework (regardless of whether or not that’s what had been forgotten). He's not able to get even a syllable out as she picks up and beats him to it. “Dad died.” He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t imagined this day. For so long Tim actually dreamed of celebrating, of pouring a glass of his best whiskey and taking a drink to commemorate the fact that his biggest nightmare growing up could haunt him no more. He was certain that it’d feel like a wave of relief, as if the weight of the trauma his father caused would feel like a slightly lighter load to carry. He made due with scars his father caused, physical and emotional, the moment he first left home. He knew he’d always carry them with him, they were part of him whether he liked it or not, and he decided long ago that he would be the one to decide how it’d define him. His father had taken so much power away from him, he wasn’t about to give him that too. At eighteen he left Hill House never to return again with the unwavering truth that he was a survivor. He’d made it eighteen years in that terror of a childhood home and despite the trauma that would always haunt him, he still made it out. The tethered hold his father had around him was one he was finally free from and Tim promised himself the day he enlisted into the army that he would be the man his father never was. The cautious voice in the back of his head has always steered him toward the opposite direction of the influence his father provided, reminding him that the violence he was raised with is never the answer. Except for right now, where that voice is nowhere to be found and Tim stands in the middle of the kitchen, stuck in a place where he’s just as much that scared little boy who’d wince and whimper as his father’s fist came swinging and the angry teenager who fantasied throwing a punch back even if it meant he’d end up with more than one broken bone.

#the rookie #chenford

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kvnex · 4 months

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PART 1: THE BASICS

What is your full name? Kane T. Franklin

Where and when were you born? Sept 7,1997 Memphis Tennessee

Who are/were your parents? (Know their names, occupations, personalities, etc.) His morthers name is Kayla Franklin, she’s unemployed because he takes care of her. In the beginning she wasn’t much of a nurturing type of mother. But over time she developed this personality where she only wanted the best for her children and the best is what she did. She did whatever she had to do for Kane and his sister and for that he’s thankful. She’s a bit on the rough side she’s been through a lot a she’s seen a lot so she can tend to come off a bit more harsh at times but it’s all love. As for his dad his name is Maurice Halsten, didn’t know him, didn’t like him, didn’t care about him.

Do you have any siblings? What are/were they like? Yes he has a younger sister, she’s very sweet and nice almost too good to be true in so many words. She’s the complete opposite of Kane but she stands on business when it comes to her big brother.

Where do you live now, and with whom? Describe the place and the person/people. Bel-Air, big ass house nice yard neighbors kinda far apart. Lots of rooms, lost of space, basketball cout all of the things a bel air mansion would have.

What is your occupation? He's a Rapper

Write a full physical description of yourself. You might want to consider factors such as: height, weight, race, hair and eye color, style of dress, and any tattoos, scars, or distinguishing marks. 6’0 tall, don’t worry about his weight, it’s enough. Black male, brown eyes with black hair. He likes to think of himself as a hood rich dresser, he can jump fresh any day of the week with just a simple fit to throw on but he likes to have things that others dont tend to have so that it sets him apart a bit from others. Tons of tattoos on his arms and hand and neck. A scar on his face that’s fading but it’s from when he was younger and got cut in the face by a glass bottle.

To which social class do you belong? Upper

Do you have any allergies, diseases, or other physical weaknesses? He's allergic to oranges but will risk it cause he likes orange juice. No diseases or any other phyical weakeness

Are you right- or left-handed? Right

What does your voice sound like? Deep but not Barry white deep, like regular deep southern drawl or should I say a Memphis accent.

What words and/or phrases do you use very frequently? I’m good or it’s whatever, what’s that word shortly

What do you have in your pockets? Money and a lighter.

Do you have any quirks, strange mannerisms, annoying habits, or other defining characteristics? He has an obsessive behavior but at the same time he plays it very nonchalant when he feels like people playing on his head top. But at the same time he can be very nonchalant or not care which tends to annoy people.

PART 2: GROWING UP

How would you describe your childhood in general? His life wasn’t sweet at all actually, it wasn’t the best but it could have been a lot worse. He lived in the hood so we all know what that’s like, shoot outs, gangs, drugs and jail things that he seen on a daily basis. But his grandma tried her best to keep him on the right path even though it didn’t last too long because he still ended up doing what he wanted.

What is your earliest memory? Seeing his uncle get shot…traumatizing.

How much schooling have you had? High school diploma

Did you enjoy school? NO

Where did you learn most of your skills and other abilities? Life skills were taught by the streets.

While growing up, did you have any role models? If so, describe them. My cousin Tat, he was a get money type of nigga, he had the respect of the hood and I wanted everything that he had. I always looked at him as a bigger role model than all these other people, because tat was getting money, he wasn’t just a regular drug dealer tat had the south really in control. He was powerful and I wanted to be exactly like him until he got shot, then I just lost all hope on who I wanted to be like because he changed his whole life after that.

While growing up, how did you get along with the other members of your family? Yea his hating ass uncles and Aunties.

As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up? A drug lord

As a child, what were your favorite activities? Football

As a child, what kinds of personality traits did you display? He was a jokester, always the funny bad lil kid no matter where I went.

As a child, were you popular? Who were your friends, and what were they like? He was very popular due to him clowning all the time and mostly his cousins, he didn’t have many outside friends. Niggas was frauds for real.

When and with whom was your first kiss? Middle School, Tati

Are you a virgin? If not, when and with whom did you lose your virginity? No, Tati

PART 3: PAST INFLUENCES

What do you consider the most important event of your life so far? Most important…probably going on my first sold out tour a few years ago.

Who has had the most influence on you? Currently? Nobody, everybody cool though.

What do you consider your greatest achievement? Sold out shows, best feeling ever for an independent artist.

What is your greatest regret? Not trying hard for what he knew he wanted, things could have been way different.

What is the most evil thing you have ever done? He's not a evil person but life happens and you gotta survive it so yea.

Do you have a criminal record of any kind? Yea, assault charges and some other things.

When was the time you were the most frightened? Couple of years ago, he was spiraling out of control. Unable to really see life and the bigger picture, he was living and thinking for in the moment. Could have ended badly but reality kicked in.

What is the most embarrassing thing ever to happen to you? Nothing

If you could change one thing from your past, what would it be, and why? He would listen more to the things that people were telling him to better his life. So being less hard headed.

What is your best memory? First real vacation with his mama, grandma and sister. They didn’t go far but they went to New York and his grandma was hype as hell. She always wanted to go, so when he was able he took her. Brought her everything she wanted, she was happy as hell so for him that was all he needed to see.

What is your worst memory? As a kid seeing his uncle get killed, nothing tops that bad memory.

@la-resources

#kanedevs #L.A.task100

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pynkhues · 10 months

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So I know people tend to have lots and lots of opinion about dog pound but more often then not, I’ve seen a tendency for folks to give Roman’s recollection of the game (that dog pound was bulling/abusive/messed up in some way shape or form) the most weight…and this candidly baffles me for a bunch of reasons. I know the actor's opinions don't need to be given weight, but I see tons of weight given to actor interviews for Succession in other contexts and both Jeremy and Kieran (per an interview with Kieran around S3) signed on to the read that dog pound wasn’t traumatizing but was instead a rewritten memory because Roman generally felt like a victim and I tend to agree with that read. It also kind of fits in more with the dynamic we generally see Kendall and Roman have throughout the show and especially in Seasons 1-3. Add to this that Roman was around 4 when this took place if we're taking his word for it (making Kendall under 10 and Connor early 20’s-ish?) and again I’m wondering why his memory is given so much more weight than Connors. Do you have any view or thoughts as to why Roman is treated as the more reliable narrator when it comes to dog pound and more broadly how do you tend to think about the siblings various contradictory childhood memories?

It's an interesting one, isn't it?

I agree with you (and the actors, haha), that I think the dog pound wasn't traumatising or that it even really meant anything at the time they were playing it. It's just a children's game that took on a different meaning in their adulthood as Roman and Kendall's particular dynamic crystalised. I talked about it a little bit in this post about games on the show if you're interested in reading more about that in particular!

I do think the context of Roman bringing up the dog pound game when he did is also important and not talked about as much as it should be. After all, Kendall's kind of seen to have the more defined arc over these episodes between the failed coup, his relapse, then the upswing of him getting in bed with the enemy (Sandy and Stewy).

Roman though has a really complicated arc too - it's his inability to stand with Kendall which makes the coup fail, and his elevation as prized son in Austerlitz is undermined by what I tend to interpret as a mix of guilt and shame first over letting Kendall down and then over his relapse, which bleeds into a degree of protectiveness which we don't usually see from him, both in that episode and in the next (it's an underrated moment, but Roman offering to make everyone stop doing drugs at the party before they go in in 1.08 is very special to me).

But there's a shift then in 1.08 which is triggered by Stewy pretty blatantly cutting him out of something and folding Kendall back in. It's this teetering new power dynamic where any guilt he felt is swallowed up by the realisation he doesn't want to lose this new station as the dog at their father's side, and I think he uses this distorted memory from childhood to justify his anger and try to reinforce this position. Kendall thought Roman was the weak dog once, but he's not, Kendall is. Kendall's the one out, Kendall's the weird one, Kendall is, as Shiv aptly put it in 1.01, not emotionally strong and has addiction issues.

(Interestingly too, while it's not in the episode, in the 1.08 script it shows that Roman's there when Kendall realises their dad's sent Greg to keep an eye on him, and I think there's this interesting emphasis there in Roman realising Kendall needs a babysitter twice - himself in the last ep and Greg in this one - which for him reinforces Kendall as the 'weak' one.)

He weaponises a long past memory that he treats as an immovable truth to not just play victim, but I think as a yardstick to show how far he's come, and how far Kendall's fallen.

As for why Roman's treated as the more reliable narrator, I think there are a few reasons for it. In particular, I do think Kendall is the Known Liar of the show, haha. All the kids lie to varying degrees of course, but Kendall really lies in a way that I tend to think can feel more insidious, particularly as he lies in such a wildly broad spectrum - sometimes it's aching self-flagellation, sometimes it's mortifying self-aggrandisement, sometimes it's just straight up pathetic, and sometimes it's just the awkward vulnerability of trying to save face (particularly when he's relapsing).

We don't see Roman explicitly lie all that much on the show, at least not in the way many of the other characters do. In some ways he's actually the opposite to Kendall because Kendall tends to use lies as a means of defense or a way to hide while Roman absolutely and often weaponises a truth. Orrr at least I'd say that's what he would like to think of himself? I actually think Roman lies all the time, it's just less through actual lying like Kendall does, and more through undermining the truth or playing around in the grey of it. He likes to lean on a question and see what it does to the truth, like he knows that it's malleable and wants to see the shape it could take, and that's overall something I find super interesting about his character, and I think feeds into a distortion of truth / memory.

But back to your question about why people see Roman as the more reliable narrator of their shared past, yes, I think it's viewed through the prism of Kendall being the one more likely to lie, but I also think it's due to Roman's abuse being easier to understand and more textual than Kendall and Shiv's. We see him get hit, both Shiv and Kendall talk about Roman being hit, Roman jokes about it and diminishes it, and even in 3.09 blames Kendall and Shiv for it (I actually think there's such an interesting parallel there to Roman being abandoned with the waterpistols and the story of Shiv being abandoned with the chocolate milk in the car, but that's a whole other story, haha).

We get childhood stories from Roman more than any of his siblings, so he feels like the one who thinks about it the most. Is that true? I don't know, but I get why that would make people put more stock in his role as the narrator of it.

As for the contradictory childhood memories, I do think the show is interested in the subjectiveness of memory overall, and the way people influence the past and make history malleable, and I think that exploring that through the very specific context of a family like the Roy's, who have a loose relationship with the truth at the best of times, is a pretty remarkable way to do it.

#my nephews were playing puppy and person again last night while i was facetiming them and the 5yo licked my sister's phone screen lmao #the look on her face in the background was hilarious #i actually just wrote up a huge second part of this about trauma on childhood brain development in regards to the roy's but it was long #and kind of off topic #and also a bit science-y #so i took it out #but let me know if you'd like to read that too #i've just been working in that space again so it is f r e s h #haha #succession meta #kendall + roman #i'm also always interested of these little moments where roman actually is protective of kendall #and particularly how shiv weaponised it against him in living+#kendall roy #roman roy #hbo succession #welcome to my ama

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transhawks · 1 year

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Not to start shit but even though the whole thing abt touya being the firstborn would affect him given how japan works how is ppl not paying too much attention to that means dabi being misunderstood by readers? That was not the point of his story was it?? I mean the only thing enji denied touya was a normal family life with not abused ppl. And we saw touya feeling the pressure of him needing to be The Best/Strongest so that endvr would at least look at him like??????

I think there's a lot of holdover to pre-reveal, in the sense where a lot of us assumed Dabi was Shouto 2.0. At least I get that sense when I see how much people really like fanon!Dabi.

we assumed that he was abused and forced into training and resentful of it from the start, much like we see Shouto is. (Not saying he was not abused, but the way he was abused and his own perception of it was very different). The assumption was that Touya would have never wanted to be a hero, to do what his dad wanted, etc. The speculation was that Endeavor pushed him harder and harder to meet his expectations when it was the opposite. Enji ran off like a coward, unsure of how to be a real dad, Touya then pushed himself to death trying to retain any bit of his father's attention and love the only way he knew how.

We were very wrong, essentially, and the birth order and cultural expectations only accentuate how much more Touya was willing to follow in his father's footsteps. Where the bulk of his contention with his father was his father's abandonment and inability to be a father to him outside of hero parameters.

That's why Deku's it's your power didn't work. Where Shouto struggled for a sense of self and autonomy outside of Endeavor, that was not what Dabi wanted, Dabi wants his father to choose and see him, he wants his father legacy, his father's love, etc. Yes, he is aware his father is abusive, the whole marriage and premise of their lives was fucked up from the start. But I keep saying just because Touya knows this rationally doesn't mean it really sinks in - he's jealous of Shouto, he wishes he was in his position and outright tells Shouto that Shouto is squandering it.

And yes that means also just his rights as firstborn. Endeavor throwing aside tradition - what did Touya have? Not his dad's love, not his name, not his place in the world. I think this is probably where Western readers struggle most of get how much life has traditionally been decided for you worldwide by your parents.

I think this is why the nepotism debate to me is wild too - people following in their parents' footsteps has always been the norm rather than exception. Japan had a whole caste system originally based on employment for centuries. Your life was defined by your great x10 grandfather was a gardener and you had no choice but to be a gardener too.

Enji destroyed that sort of life for Touya. Our parents love is about so much and a lot of it is about our parents being able to raise us into people who can take on the world. Touya was discarded; the place in the world he should have had as a firstborn was destroyed through his father's ambitions. Enji replaced him not only in his own personal ambitions but in his place as a son.

And again, Touya loved his father. I keep emphasizing this but he is not Shouto and the two have very different relationships to Enji early on. The lack of love back is really exemplified in how much Enji doesn't account for Touya's future and what it looks like to so openly throwaway the expectations you would have in an old titled family like Rei's in favor of the youngest son.

Yeah, I just think the cultural nuance is important here. It adds weight to Touya's devastation and why he wants his father's attention and approval as much as he does.

#asks #dabi #todorokis #meta

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bluebeary-jay · 1 year

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Hello! First, I wanted to tell you how much i love your writing. It’s not just that I love it, it’s that I giggling, feet kicking the air and warmth filling my chest love it. You truly have a way with words and your characterization of Joel and Ellie are on point. This is why I feel like you’d be the perfect writer for the request I have. It’s not really defined, leaves a lot of room for imagination but I hope it will inspire you somehow (I also got the idea from some post I saw around but I can’t remember where oopsie)

It would be set in Jackson. Reader, Joel and Ellie have settled in and everything is doing great, they’re safe. For the first time in years (well, for Reader and Joel) they have access to luxuries they lost in the outbreak. They have warm clothes, a house, a community and good food at every meal. But all these luxuries come with certain changes and Joel is the first one who notices that not being constantly on the move and eating properly has…consequences. And although he isn’t a really insecure person, he can’t help feeling a bit bad about himself: he’s already older than Reader and now he isn’t as fit as he used to be? But of course, Reader doesn’t care because all that “extra” weight only means that her man is healthy, he isn’t starving himself and counting rations. And also, she loves his dad bod, honestly. He’s all warm and cuddling with him just feels cozy and nice. But she understands that he has his insecurities so when she notices he isn’t feeling too great about himself, she doesn’t shy away from voicing her feelings more often and being even more affectionate than she was before (she already was but she makes sure to show some more love because our man is touch-starved and craves his girl’s attention)

But to sum up: a bit of insecure Joel who receives all that love he deserves but doesn’t get 🥲

Thank you very much! 💛

Oh god okay FIRST OF ALL

Darling I'm HONORED that you entrusted me with your incredible request 🥺💖🥹 I really really really hope you're still here and will be able to read what I came up with!

I remember the exact moment I read your ask, I was with my family and had to exit the room because I almost cried, what you described as giggling feet-kicking warm-filling is the exact same thing I feel when I read other people's amazing fics and to see that you feel this way about my writing is insane 😭😭💖💞🥺💖

My heart is really aching even now when I reread your ask almost a month later, you're so sweet and I very much hope I did your request justice 💖

#asks from lovely people #as you will see i really got carried away but i COULDNT HELP MYSELF

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putellas11 · 2 years

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A/N: I realize I might have broken a few hearts with Tell Me I’m Wrong, so please accept this happy ending as my way of saying sorry. Thank you to everyone who sent their suggestions for part 2, I tried to take a little bit from everyone. Hope you enjoy!

Tell Me I’m Wrong Part 1

We’re Worth Fighting For (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

A week has passed since Alexia walked away from you. Since then, you’ve had the pleasure of introducing yourself to every bottle of wine in your apartment. You hold each bottle close to your chest and with every sip it all hurts a little less. It’s a temporary fix but you take whatever you can get. Occasionally your phone illuminates the room with notifications of attempts to get in touch with you. A part of you hoping for Alexia's name to appear on the screen, but you don’t dare to look.

The notifications stopped two days ago and maybe it’s because you’ve made no effort to charge your phone. With how you’re feeling, the simple task of charging a phone is as difficult as climbing the tallest of mountains. Deep down you know you’re in need of a hand to hold and a shoulder to lean on, but how can you ask for help when you’re the one to blame for your pain?

It’s only when Mapi and Patri cause a ruckus outside your apartment that you get up from your bed. On the way to the door, you trip on one of the empty wine bottles and yet still fail to realize the reality of your situation.

Your teammates get their first good look at you in a week and it’s like they’re looking at a completely different person. You’re stripped of your armor— your confidence. The usual mischief in your eyes replaced with insecurity.

Without you needed to say a word, you feel their arms wrap around you in an embrace. Like the true friends they are, they fill your empty and cold apartment with warmth and laughter. Mapi gives you her hand to hold and Patri gives you her shoulder to lean on.

They don’t ask you why you skipped training or question the empty bottles scattered around you. Instead, they pick you up piece by piece all while whispering in your ear, “you’re not alone.” A life of loneliness is tempting, but with friends like them the temptation isn’t as strong.

They convince you to talk to someone and you know exactly who it needs to be.

Your mom accepts your facetime call on the first ring and when her face appears on your screen, you realize how much you’ve missed her warmth and comfort.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” she immediately asks, and you can't help the little smile that tugs on your lips. There’s no hiding anything from her.

“I’m OK, mama,” you assure her, knowing how much she worries about you being all alone in Barcelona. “There’s actually something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about.”

“What is it, honey? You can talk to me, you know that.” Your mom is clueless about your situation with Alexia but she’s very well informed about your love life or lack thereof, really.

“I’ve been thinking about dad lately,” you start to say, giving her a second to prepare herself for the conversation. “I think so much of my hatred doesn’t come from him not being at any of my games or never being there to read me stories before bed. It’s the fact that he was able to walk from you so easily as if everything you had done and sacrificed for him meant absolutely nothing.”

It’s the first time you say that out loud and you feel this immense weight lift off your shoulders. “I don’t know… all the pain he caused you, the sleepless nights, the stress of being a single mother. I was young, mom, but I saw it all and something in me just shot down. All I thought was, if that’s what love can do to a person, I want nothing to do with it.”

She listens to your every word, and you can tell she’s been waiting for this moment.

“Believe it or not I still carry that pain with me but-,” she stops, and you realize this is hard for her to talk about too. “I refuse to let it define me because he doesn’t have the right to take love from my life. He took so much from me but never that. For god's sake, the man didn’t even know the literal definition of the word so why should he be the to define love for us?”

It seems so obvious when she says it and you wonder how you’ve been able to lie to yourself for so long. You can only now admit that it was easier to surrender to the pain he caused than to try to heal from it.

“I’m so scared, mom,” you confess, blinking away the tears. There was no need to act tough. Not anymore and not ever.

“I know honey, but if you’re scared to lose someone the answer isn’t to run away. If love isn’t worth fighting for, then what is?”

The two of you to talk all through the night and after so many years, she helps you find a little peace from the memories of your past.

_______

After explaining a little bit of your situation, Jonatan agrees to give you a few more days off. He knows better than anyone that a player needs to be in the right mindset if they’re to play at their best. And although you have made some progress in the last few days, you still have some unfinished business with Alexia.

It turns out that she did try to reach out after everything that that happened, but it was just with one message.

Alexia: I may be the last person you want to talk to but i’m here if you need me

It was only a few words on a screen, but it breathed life to a little spark of hope in you. Maybe there was still a chance.

Y/N: meet me at Nala’s favorite park?

It only takes Alexia two minutes to respond.

Alexia: I’ll be there

A long time ago she asked if you wanted to join her on a walk with Nala and somehow that ended up becoming a regular thing. What surprised you the most is that on these walks, the two of you rarely talked about football. Instead, Alexia loved to share stories of her childhood and all the trouble she would get into with Alba growing up. It all felt so natural that you didn’t realize you were also giving a little of yourself to her each time.

You’re sitting down on a bench by the entrance to the park when you hear a familiar bark. Alexia lets go of the leash and Nala comes running in your direction. At first you can’t tell if Nala is excited to go for a walk or actually happy to see you, but then she rolls on her back to ask for belly rubs, and you think it might be the latter after all.

“Hola.”

You hear Alexia’s voice and to your surprise, you remain calm. Your heart is, of course, going crazy but you’ve gotten used to her having that effect on you.

“Hi, thank you for coming.” You stand up from the bench and with a bark, Nala makes it clear that you haven’t given her enough attention.

“Of course, I was really worried about you,” she pauses, and there’s no doubt she means it, “we all were.”

You walk together in silence for a few minutes with Nala leading the pace. Fortunately, it’s not an uncomfortable silence. You’re both just glad you can still be alone together after everything that was said.

“You know you’ve turned my world upside down, right?”

“In a bad way?” she asks, and you can tell she’s a little afraid to hear the answer.

You shake your head at her words. “No, in the best way.”

Alexia doesn’t say anything else but she keeps walking by your side, closing the gap that separates you with each step. She wants you close, but there’s still a lot you must do to deserve that privilege.

"Even if it’s too late and I’ve wasted all my chances with you, I want you to know how sorry I am for everything. For lying and making you think you meant nothing to me because, Ale,” you stop and place your hand on her shoulder, “you're the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

“And yet you’ve done nothing but push me away.” Alexia can only hold your gaze for a moment, and you know this is just as tough for her as it is for you. She has feelings too and it’s only fair that she’s scared to allow for possibility of you hurting her again.

“I don’t want to do that anymore,” with your finger on her chin you bring her attention back to you, “If you ask me to stay, I promise you’ll have me forever.” For someone who has never promised forever to anyone, the words sure do fall with ease from your lips, and you know it’s because you actually mean them.

“Forever won’t be easy,” she says, giving you one last opportunity run away.

“I know but this is worth fighting for, no?”

Alexia places her hand on your chest, directly over your heart and her smile lets you know she can feel how fast your heart is beating. “Si, we’re worth fighting for.”

You’re not sure who kissed who first, but it doesn’t really matter. You cling to her like your life depends on it, melting into her body. It’s a kiss filled with the promise and anticipation of a wild, sweet, and beautiful love.

#alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso #reader imagine #Fic: We’re Worth Fighting For

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