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#do you not understand how stupid you sound
konigsblog · 2 days
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könig is always looking for a roommate, someone he can obsess over and use for his own satisfaction. 🔞
he finds himself lingering in your bedroom while you're away, whether you're in the shower a couple feet away from him or you're down the road, drinking with your boyfriend only to come home and grind against könig, a drunken attempt at seducing him. he hates that pervert who is allowed to do whatever he wants with your precious, loveable body while könig has to jerk off to the sounds of your pleasure in the next room, his ear pressed against your bedroom door and the sound of your bedframe creaking, drowned out by the noise of skin slapping and your whining.
könig tightens his calloused fingers around his meaty girth, stroking himself slowly and sloppily with his dick throbbing and pulsing at the sound of your moans and mewls. you always know how to rile him up, whether you're aware if it or not. you leave his orgasm nearly boiling over the edge before he can't control and deny himself, gazing at his computer with guilt and shame weighing on his shoulders. könig feels disgusted and perverted to be doing this. he rushes over to his computer to watch the recording through his computer, to watch his pretty roommate get fucked into stupidity. he's aware that he's violating your privacy, but the opportunity was right there, mäusi. please, please understand.
könig's tip is creamy with drops and globs of his creaminess dripping from the head of his dick, smeared along his veiny shaft as he strokes himself. he heaves and grunts gutturally while watching as that bastard ruts and rocks his broad hips back and forth into your precious body, manhandled and contorted into a position that suits your boyfriend's needs. könig's eyelids are heavy with lust and delirium, longing to feel you and to hold you in his strong arms, to perhaps spread your soft thighs and clean your swollen, aroused cunt with his tongue while you're fast asleep, to remove that bastard's filth and grime from your body and replace it with his own.
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mrsparrasblog · 2 days
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You're losing me pt. 5
prev. part. first part.
TW: Gun, violence, mentioned rape, gaslighting, medic is shit
It was your last day on sick leave, so you spent it grading papers, cuddling with Winston, and getting distracted by Kyle's messages and his slutty pictures. You were so thankful for Kyle; he never pressed you for what happened with Johnny, just distracted you.
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After you send a picture of Winston you heard the bell ringing and rolled your eyes. You knew Kyle never listened when you said not to come over, even though you really needed that time alone right now. Johnny is an artist, even though he didn't admit it, and so was being in a relationship with him. It was like being in a colorful picture, so vibrant. But since you left him, it felt like someone drained out the color; the painting is black and white, no longer golden.
You went to the door, opened it, and to your surprise, it wasn’t Kyle behind the door. She was there, her eyes puffy and red. 
"What do you want?" If she was there to humiliate you, you’re going to throw up. You shortly texted Ky that she was there.
"I wanted to talk to you, I need your help," she sobbed.
Simon always called you one of the nicest people on earth, but right now, it was enough of being nice. "Well, you can ask Johnny for help." You tried to shut your door, but her foot was already between the frame.
"He is the problem."
"What, did he leave you?" you snorted out.
"He threatened to kill me because of the baby." You clearly misheard her. This can't be true, as if you can do anything against Johnny, and as if Johnny would do something against his own teammate.
"Baby?"
"Yes, I'm pregnant, three months." She rubs her nonexistent belly in front of you. Three months? Johnny cheated on you for three months? And a baby? No, this can't be true. Johnny loves babies; he’d never kill a pregnant woman, none of them.
"And he is threatening you?" You asked while slowly trying to pull out your phone again. You knew Si would be here in 4 minutes if you called him.
"Yes, he wants to tell everyone that I raped him, just so I get an abortion." With that, you burst out laughing. This was the worst joke you ever heard. When she wanted you to pull you away from him for real.
"Do you really think I'm that stupid to believe this shit now leave my apartment before I call the police." You already pulled out your phone to dial the number of the police, who are you kidding, dial the number of Simon. Simon and John always explained if something happens to you, call them instead of the police, they solve your problem faster, and that was a gigantic slag-formed problem.
"Bad mistake," she points out a gun to you, calculating. You trained for this situation endless times in school, but it was still different when someone held a gun against you. Would it work to tell her that there are people that love her? Or maybe you should argue with logic.
"When you kill me, they won't forgive you, it's not worth it," you said trying to sound as calm as possible.
"They won't find out," she laughed. God, that woman was batshit crazy.
"Here are cameras," they weren’t recording, but maybe she was stupid enough to believe you.
"They will understand," she said. Maybe she was stupid enough but also crazy enough to not care. There is only the last logical thing you could say to her.
"Then kill me."
"What?" She was surprised at your bluntness, but you knew she couldn’t really kill you, and if Kyle looked at his phone, he would have already been on his way, so you need to get through this for 10 minutes, 10 minutes, and you are safe.
"If you kill me, Johnny will find you, Kyle will break you, Simon will torture you, and John will finish your miserable life, my death isn’t worth this." You slowly walked backward towards the counter, there must be a gun. John put it in there when you first got together. You didn't quite know how to use it, but better than nothing.
"You're right," finally.
"So why don’t we put the gun down and just, you know, talk about it like adults," you suggested, still moving tiny steps backward.
"Stop moving, or I'll kill you," the same words over and over again. She sounded like a broken record recorder. You stopped moving, but this wasn’t enough for her.
"Maybe I should kill your rat, so you listen." Rat? Her gun pointed toward Winston. Fuck, she should better kill you than your baby. You lost complete hope in turning her; she is crazy.
"He is Kyle's dog, not mine. If you kill him, he will be sad." The shake in your voice was evident; tears started to storm out of your eyes; you didn't know what to do anymore.
"Three of four are enough, anyways." Fuck, fuck, fuck.
"I can call them; I'll break up with them, just let Winston be safe, okay?"
"Really, you give up your boyfriends for that rat?" She gestured disgusted at your precious baby.
"Yes."
"Okay, call them," you walked to the counter, dialing Simon's number, close enough to the gun. You really hoped they don’t show a sign that they know; they are SAS; they need to understand, right?
"Hello," good, Simon's voice.
"Are the others with you?" You asked, trying not to tremble; she couldn’t find out what you planned.
"Yes, I put them on speaker, luv."
"I'm breaking up with you, with all of you for final this time. John, you're always putting me in danger, Johnny, you're always with her instead of my home, always on deployment with Simon, and you’re carrying all these scary guns with you that make me afraid, and I hate your stupid dog, Kyle." She looked proud and relieved at you, too stupid to realize. But they were smart, right?
"Okay, just give me back my keys to the office, they’re in the cupboard in the kitchen. I don’t want to see you anytime soon, I will pick it up at three tomorrow, bye." She gained heavily, and all you could feel was relief; you looked at the clock; it was 2:57, three minutes, and the gun. God, you loved your smart boys.
"Will you let me go now?" you asked, and she shook her head.
"Just need to make sure that you never go to my boys again, you can understand, right?"
"I'll move abroad if you want, the US, Germany, Italy, call it and I'll be gone." Before she could reply, she heard a loud bang outside, and that was your chance to grab the gun as she turned around, loaded fucking genius John, but not in safety, idiot. And then you shot, closing your eyes. You never did this before; the closest you came was a water gun at the beach; you didn't hit anything major, only her shoulder, but it was enough for her to lose her stance and fall. Seconds after, the boys went in Simon pulled her to the ground like a bulldozer with John. While Kyle and Johnny ran to you.
"Are you okay?" Both men asked, checking you for any injury.
"I don't feel okay."
"We know, love." You wrapped your arms around Johnny and began to sob. You needed him; you missed him and you were so scared. You knew for a fact he didn't cheat on you after that stunt that woman pulled today.
"We'll take care of her; we will be back soon, luv," Simon said with a devious grin while putting his boot on her to press down on her bullet wound.
John and Ghost left with her, and you knew for a fact your shot would be the nicest thing she witnessed in the next few days.
"I shot someone."
"Proud of you, hen."
"Never shoot again, please, babe; you're terrible at it," Kyle joked, but you still felt shitty. He knelt down, hugging Winston tight. "Oh, you've been such a brave and good boy protecting your mama. Let me take you to the park, pup," he said while Winston barked happily. "You two need to talk this out."
"Only we two now, Johnny."
"Aye, only we two."
"Where do we start?"
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Taglist: @cod-z , @kaoyamamegami, @postmortem-angel, @jackrabbitem , @sseleniaa , @thigh-o-saur , @littlechomper @ab12305 @darkangel4121 @thychuvaluswife
A/N : so I added the picture of Eliot to make up for the Angst I write 😭
For any who has a light belly (do you say that in english or only in German lol?) the next chapter will be half torture of her and the other half Johnny and Reader <3
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starsofang · 3 days
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To Be Loved is to Be Seen
johnny mactavish x f!reader
word count: 5.2k
tw: NSFW content, abuse (from other partner), hurt/comfort, smut, oral, p in v, happy ending, bad scottish accent (i tried)
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Johnny hated your boyfriend. In fact, if he could string him up on a pole and castrate the bloke himself, he’d do it with a damn smile — that was how much he loathed him.
To get you to realize how shitty your boyfriend was felt like a near impossible task. Alas, you didn’t know Johnny, but Johnny certainly knew you. How could he not, when he’d spent every morning and every night, hearing your shouts and pitiful whimpers of defeat through the thin walls of your neighboring apartments?
He knew your boyfriend had spouts of anger, could tell from the sounds of drywall cracking on occasion, or the sounds of things clattering in a messy heap on the floor, sometimes shattering, sometimes rolling around after a particularly loud thud.
Your boyfriend was a nuisance that didn’t know how to care for a woman, and he made a show of it every night when Johnny heard him.
Now, Johnny was a respectful man. He’d never hurt another person unless they were deserving — perks of being in the military, it made that excuse much easier to use.
But your boyfriend? He was more than deserving. He was practically asking for Johnny to bash his pathetic face in, cowering beneath Johnny as he pleaded and begged for him to stop.
Johnny just had to figure out a way to slowly slip into your life, befriend you as a friendly neighbor, so he could kick the damn reality into that pretty head of yours. After all, Johnny would never hit you. Johnny would never call you names. Johnny would never make you cry in anguish.
The opportunity arose when he went to collect his mail and saw you standing there, fumbling with your mail key in frustration. Faulty lock, he assumed, but that was perfect for him.
“Need some ‘elp?” Johnny asked you, and when you perked your head up in surprise, he was already plotting murder in his mind when he saw the ugly bruise being sported underneath your eye.
“Oh. Yeah, actually, stupid thing never wants to unlock,” you said, and your voice up close and not through a thin wall was like sweet nectar from a flower.
He smiled with a nod, politely stepping up to your mailbox. You handed him the key, and he eagerly placed it in the lock. Wiggling it around a bit, it took him a few moments and grunts of concentration before the mailbox popped open.
Your face lit up in delight and you profusely thanked him, taking the key from his hands. Your hands were soft and warm, he noted when the two of yours brushed during the exchange, and he felt his heart swell with affection.
Such pretty hands on such a pretty girl should be kissed and held with nothing less than care. They shouldn’t be the victim of a fighting match, where it was obvious you were the losing opponent every time.
“No’ a problem. Johnny,” he introduced with his hand outstretched, and when you flashed him that smile as you introduced yourself back, he made it his absolute mission to make sure this wouldn’t be your last interaction.
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The next time you saw Johnny, it was when the two of you were leaving your respective apartments at the same time (really, Johnny had been listening on for signs of when you’d leave as an excuse to leave his own place).
You lit up when you saw him, once again thanking him for helping you with the mailbox. Your eyes fluttered over to his door that he was in the process of locking, and you realized dumbly that he was your neighbor.
“I didn’t know you lived next to us, Johnny!” Us. The word made his eye twitch. “You’ve never introduced yourself.”
“No’ around all tha’ much.” He shrugged, and you hummed in understanding.
“I see. I’ve got to get to work, but it was nice seeing you, Johnny. Don’t be a stranger!”
He watched you go, feet leading you down the hall and towards the elevator of the building. He stood frozen in place, the breath in his lungs caught when he noticed the bruising on the back of your exposed calves from the skirt you wore.
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A knock on his door days later had Johnny grumbling to himself, and when he checked the time, it was nearing midnight. He’d normally be on guard, what with his whole military career, but the only people that ever visited his place were Simon, Kyle, or Price.
Opening the door, it was neither of the three and instead, you. Sporting comfortable pajamas that swallowed you whole and made him want to scoop you up and keep you safe.
“Hi, Johnny! Were you sleeping?”
He was, but that didn’t matter.
“Nah, wasn’t sleepin’. Ye need somethin’, love?”
You threw him a sheepish smile that could melt any man’s heart. It was a wonder how your own man couldn’t see that. “I, ah, ran out of sugar. Baking’s my hobby, y’know? Silly me, I forgot to buy some from the shop.”
“…S’midnight.”
“…Is that a no to the sugar?”
Johnny huffed out a laugh, a smile perking on his lips. You were cute, it was to die for.
“Nah. ‘Course ye can have sugar. Tha’ all you came ‘ere for?”
You chewed on your bottom lip, contemplating something Johnny wasn’t aware of. Now that he thought about it, your shitty boyfriend wasn’t anywhere in sight, and he hadn’t heard any noise from your apartment earlier.
“Well,” you began, inhaling before slowly exhaling. “Okay, no, I don’t need the sugar. I have plenty of it, actually. It’s just, ah…”
“Go on.”
“My boyfriend went out with some friends tonight and I don’t really want to be alone. I get nervous when I’m by myself, y’know?”
Your boyfriend knew this, and didn’t even bother to bring you with? Wasn’t texting you throughout the night to give you sweet reassurances, telling you he’d be home soon? Was he even out with his friends?
“Ye dinnae have any girl friends to call?” Johnny asked carefully, not wanting to make you feel unwelcome, but also wanting to tread on a thin line. He couldn’t jump to the opportunity, or you might think he’s weird and eager.
When you shook your head with a defeated look on your face, his own heart shattering rang in his ears. The fact you had no friends to confide in, to go out and enjoy yourself with, it didn’t sit right with him.
Silently, he opened up his door a bit more to welcome you in, and you flashed him a pretty smile before eagerly prancing inside.
His apartment was a bit underwhelming, and there wasn’t much that showed he was even living in it besides the furniture to show as evidence. You didn’t seem to mind as you took it in, smile gracing your features when he gestured towards the couch.
“Ye wan’ a drink, lass?” Johnny asked you, and when you saw him standing in the kitchen, he helped up a bottle of alcohol and a bottle of juice. He was offering you a choice of either, but you didn’t see the harm in drinking a bit and letting loose.
“Why not?” You shrugged, pointing to the left hand that held the liquor. He beamed at you, satisfied by your answer and promptly began to pour you and him a drink.
“So yer boyfriend jus’ up and left ye for the night?” Johnny asked as he sat next to you on the couch, placing the glasses on the coffee table in front of you.
He watched as you eagerly took a sip of the liquor, unable to contain the amusement when your nose wrinkled up as you swallowed it down.
“Yeah, I guess so,” you sighed, lips pouting a bit in the form of a frown. He tried not to stare. “Said he needed a night off. And he deserves it, y’know?”
Johnny raised an eyebrow at you, slowly taking a gulp from his own glass before placing it back down. He definitely didn’t think your boyfriend deserved a night to himself, nor that he worked hard in the slightest.
Hell, Johnny could hear the two of you have sex on occasional nights through the shared walls, and that certainly didn’t sound like your boyfriend was working hard. If anything, it was pitiful and sad.
“Deserves it,” he hummed, and you whipped your head to look at him, causing him to snicker into his glass as he took another sip.
You looked conflicted, taking your bottom lip between your teeth again. It puffed up, causing it to turn a bright pink, and he willed himself to keep his gaze on your eyes rather than your mouth.
“He… works hard,” you defended.
“We all do,” Johnny retorted.
“Everybody deserves a night out.”
“Have ye had a night out then?”
Silence.
Johnny might’ve been pushing it too hard. After all, he knew more than you were aware of. He was sure you had no idea how thin the walls were and that he was practically a third person in your relationship issues.
“Consider this yer night out,” Johnny claimed with a warm smile, and it seemed to work because you smiled back, downing the rest of your drink.
“Thank you for keeping me company, Johnny. I know it’s late. You’re sure I’m not bothering you?”
Oh, you could never bother Johnny. He was practically head over heels just from seeing you for the first time and hearing your voice. Love at first sight, he thought, he was completely enamored with you.
“No’ a bother, dove. We’re neighbors. It’d be smart to be friends, aye?”
“Friends?” Your tone was excited and he wanted so badly to be more than that. “I’d love to be friends! Officially, now that we’re technically drinking together, right?”
You gave a playful nudge to his shoulders with yours and he felt his entire being soften with delight. He smiled at you, eyes crinkling into little crescents as he nodded in agreement.
Friends he could do. Being friends meant he would have more opportunity to try and shield you from harm, the harm being your boyfriend, and even if it took patience, he’d wait for it.
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The two of you found yourselves in a flurry of conversation, the bottle of liquor dwindling down until there was nothing left. Time seemed to slip away between you, and when the clock hit 3:00 AM, a series of bangs came battering at Johnny’s door.
They were loud and angry, relentless and never ending until Johnny forced himself off of the couch to swing it open.
Your boyfriend’s face came into view and Johnny wished he could rearrange his teeth in that ugly scowl of his.
“Is she here? I heard her voice,” he demanded, and your head peeked out from behind Johnny. Guilt and shame shined in your irises, and it was as if all of the joy you felt when spending time in your newfound friendship with your neighbor had vanished into nothing.
When your boyfriend saw the sight of you, he put on a sickeningly sweet smile. If he was trying to play off his anger until he got back into your apartment, he was doing a poor job of doing so. Or it was because Johnny already knew about his true colors.
“I’m home. Let’s get you to bed, yeah? It’s late,” your boyfriend cooed, and Johnny had to stop himself from sneering at the venom that dripped beneath his tone.
You nodded silently, shuffling by Johnny and out of the threshold. Johnny and your boyfriend watched as you entered your own apartment, disappearing inside and leaving the door open.
Johnny knew what was going to come, and as much as he wanted to stop it from happening, he knew he couldn’t. Not yet.
“Thanks for, ah, taking care of her while I was out. Let’s not make it a habit,” your boyfriend practically spat, and Johnny gave him an unphased smile.
“Only if ye stop makin’ it a habit to hit ‘er every chance ye get,” Johnny replied back in the same tone, keeping his smile on his face. It was a threat, a warning, and Johnny wasn’t ashamed to make it clear. “I see another bruise on ‘er body, I’ll fuckin’ kill ye.”
Your boyfriend must not have had many people retort back to him. His face morphed into a stunned one before flashing in anger and annoyance, and when he went to snap back, Johnny shut the door in his face before he had a chance to.
He made sure to stay up the rest of the night, eyes staring at the ceiling from where he laid in bed. He kept his ears locked in to the shared wall, listening in for a single sound of fists connecting with bone or a broken wail out of your lips.
When he heard nothing, he knew he’d gotten through for now.
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You’d visit his apartment when your boyfriend wasn’t around. You’d come to enjoy his company, and even went as far as going against your boyfriend’s wishes of never seeing Johnny again. You told him it was because he was your only friend, and he’d accept you with open arms every time you came knocking.
The back and forth went on for months. Johnny was even more smitten than before, and his patience for claiming you as his own was slowly slipping.
He hated seeing you sad when you’d come on nights after a bad argument. He hated seeing the tears flowing down your cheeks, smothering your delicate skin with dewy shine, reddening your pretty eyes and glossing them over with heartache.
The heartache you felt would transfer on to Johnny.
He didn’t understand why your boyfriend didn’t treat you like the lovely canvas you were. Didn’t cover you with love and affection, instead covering you with black and blue. He tainted you with colors that didn’t clash with the beauty of your skin, when you deserved to be painted with skies of pink.
Johnny knew you deserved better.
When you came on a particular night, face swollen with tears of sadness and blood, he nearly saw red. Such a delicate thing to be so cruelly used as a personal stress reliever should never have happened, and Johnny was at his wits end.
“Leave ‘im,” Johnny ordered when he brought you inside of his apartment. He stood in front of you in the vacancy of his bathroom, a warm washcloth nursing your wounds with tender hands, grimacing every time you winced from pain.
“I can’t,” you whispered, and he shook his head.
“Bullshit. Leave ‘im. A pretty bird like ye doesn’t deserve this.” When you said nothing and stared down at your hands in your lap, he pushed further. “So many men out there wouldn’t lay a finger on ye. They’d never hurt ye. They’d never hit ye. I’d never do that.”
Your eyes flickered up to meet his, and he allowed it, locking your gazes with one another as a heavy silence filled the room. Your eyes remained filled with unshed tears, glistening in the dim lighting of his bathroom. To you, you looked like broken mess. To him, you looked like you held the entire night sky in your eyes.
Everything happened so quickly, Johnny’s mind nearly didn’t comprehend it. One second, you were staring, the next, your lips had crashed into his without a second thought.
Even with a split lip that tasted faintly of metallic blood, he thought you tasted divine. It was as if sweetness exuded from all parts of you, painting him with a sugary high that he could never get enough of.
One hand strayed to your hair while the other rested along the bathroom counter where your hips rested. Your own hands fisted the front of his shirt, tugging him closer, as if scared he’d fade away.
He planned on going nowhere. This was all he ever wanted, from the moment he heard you for the first time as his neighbor from behind the walls of your apartments.
When he first heard you belting out a song he didn’t know the name of in the security of your own place, presumably when your boyfriend wasn’t around to quiet you down.
When he ran into you at the mailboxes and finally learned your name. When he heard your speaking voice that wasn’t filled with anguish, trembling with shaky tears.
Johnny pressed into you further, consuming every part of the kiss with an eager passion. When he heard the faintest whimper melt from your mouth into his own mouth, he would’ve killed the entire world to hear it again.
“Dinnae be quiet,” he breathed into your lips, smile curling against them. “No need for tha’. Can be as loud as ye want here.”
Your eyes blinked prettily at him from where your foreheads connected. His thumb grazed along your cheek in such a tender manner, it pained your heart in the best way.
Your boyfriend never touched you that way. Never treated you that way. Never loved you that way.
Johnny returned his mouth to yours and you fell back into the clumsy dance of lips and tongue, like a waltz the two of you were learning with one another.
It was intense and fierce, yet gentle and passionate at the same time. You felt dizzy, your mind clouding with nothing but want and desire.
It was wrong of you to do this. Johnny was your friend and neighbor, and you had a boyfriend.
But then you thought back on everything Johnny had been making you realize — a man who loved you would never treat you how your boyfriend treated you. He’d treat you how Johnny was treating you now, soft and caring, pouring his heart and soul into every delicate touch.
On late nights when you stayed up, Johnny was there with the door already unlocked for you. He’d make you laugh, make you smile, he’d heal the inner child you desperately needed to seek. You’d lost her along the way, and Johnny was there to remind her.
“Johnny,” you breathed out, and his smile returned.
“Wha’ is it, dove?”
“I—“ You inhaled sharply, trying to collect your scrambled mind and piece together the words. “I want you. Please.”
Johnny sucked in his own breath, eyes piercing into yours. They flickered along the features of your battered face, and even in this state, he graveled in your beauty.
“I can make tha’ happen.”
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Johnny laid you on his bed as if you were the most precious thing to cushion it. His hands roamed your body like mapping out every roll and curve, keeping it noted in his head for future endeavors.
He took his time with you, placing gentle kisses along every bruise, bump, and scar that your sorry excuse of a boyfriend had left embedded in you to remember forever. Johnny didn’t look at them in disgust like you expected, no — he ravished them like fine china, careful and precise, spending as much time needed to ensure each and every one was cherished.
His hands were eager yet patient as he stripped you of your clothes, making sure to take his off in the process so you didn’t feel uncomfortably exposed.
He only thought of your best interests, and it made you feel desired.
“Look at ye,” he breathed, hands slowly gliding down the plains of your stomach and to your thighs. He carefully parted them, eyes dropping down to the glisten of your cunt, taking it in. He sucked in a breath, thumbs stroking along your knees.
Your hands lifted to cover your face, embarrassment filling you to the core. He tsked, lifting a hand to grasp your arm and pull it from your face. He pinned it lightly to the side of your head, peering down at you.
“None of tha’,” he pleaded. “Wanna see ye, bonnie.”
You nodded your head, silently agreeing with him. He took his hand off your arm, flashing you a pleased smile.
He returned to caressing, cascading rough hands down your sides, to your hips, to your thighs, until they traveled back up. The touch of his fingers was light against your core, testing the waters.
“Oh,” you gasped, air getting caught in your lungs. He smiled again, all teeth and all crinkly eyes, before delving his venture further.
His index found your clit and he began a slow and antagonizing pace, circling and stroking, eyes focused on your face to piece together your reaction.
Your eyes were fluttering at the ceiling, breasts rising and falling with every staggered breath.
It was a sight to see. Johnny felt his chest swell with pride that finally, after pining after you for months, feelings hidden away in the dark, he was the one making you this way.
His finger slipped down, seeking the wetness that seeped shamelessly. He scooped his finger in the mess, lifting it to his mouth to wrap his lips around it.
You watched, eyes dazed and hazy. You shouldn’t have enjoyed the sight, but it burned a fire in you.
His smile turned into a bashful grin when he popped his finger out of his mouth, and before you had a chance to breathe, he slipped that same finger inside, prodding you open.
“Oh, fuck,” you whimpered pathetically.
“Yeah?” he breathed. You nodded dumbly. He huffed out a laugh, curling his finger in a way that had you squirming. “Look bonnie like this. Ye my pretty girl, aye?”
You nodded again, hands fisting his bedsheets beneath you.
“Won’t ever hurt ye,” he continued, and before you knew it, his second finger joined in. “Won’t ever make ye cry. Too pretty to cry, aren’t ye?”
“Johnny,” you pleaded. He pumped his fingers slowly at first, but the sound of his name on your lips urged him to increase the pace.
It was heaven hearing it come from you, and combined with your sweet moans? He was hearing church bells in his mind.
You squirmed beneath him, panting and writhing like the pretty thing you were. He wanted more, he wanted to hear you.
Johnny dove his head down, fingers still buried to the knuckle. His tongue poked out to press flat against your clit, lathing you in bliss and making you see stars.
Your boyfriend never made you feel this way. You were on a cloud, floating peacefully in the skies above.
He could never pull the desperate moans out of you, he could never make your thighs tremble like you’d just run a marathon around the world.
Johnny’s mohawk was soft on your fingertips when you grasped them. You held back, only gripping softly.
“Pretty girl, ye can grip harder than tha’,” he assured when he came up for air. You stared down at him with wet eyes, filled with hazy pleasure. He wouldn’t return to using his mouth until you followed his order, so you did, grabbing a fistful of hair and lightly pushing him against your cunt.
He groaned in approval, burying his face between your legs and eagering fucking his fingers in you.
The stimulation caused your back to arch, a moan bursting out of you. The sound surprised you. You’d never heard yourself sound so wrecked, especially before the main event.
This was how sex was supposed to feel. Cherished, adored, and downright sinful.
The knot in your stomach seemed to tighten, and your thighs clumsily squirmed around, encasing his head between them. You panted breathlessly, the sounds filling the room with an unforgivable act of immorality.
“Johnny, Johnny, I—“ Your words were cut off by your own broken sob, and he feasted harder, urging you to your breaking point more and more.
It was too much. You wouldn’t be able to hold back, nor did you want to. This feeling was too blissful to pull away from, so you allowed yourself the moment of selfishness.
When it hit you, your entire body convulsed. Your stomach tightened and clenched, thighs gripping tight around Johnny’s head, quivering with every movement.
“Tha’s it, dove. Good girl,” he praised. You keened, eyes squeezing shut as your climax came over you.
His fingers slowed their pace but didn’t dare leave your body as he pulled you through the last drops of your orgasm. When he felt you had enough, he swiftly pulled them out, staring up at you with eyes pouring with admiration.
“Look at ye,” he whispered, reaching a hand out to stroke over your cheek. You hadn’t realized they were wet with tears until he stroked them away with a thumb. “Gorgeous girl. Tha’ okay?”
“Absolutely,” you breathed, voice broken.
You regained your breath, chest no longer heaving like a panting dog, and you came out of your clouded haze.
“Let me make ye feel even better, aye? Can fill ye up, wanna feel ye, please, bonnie—“
You nodded before even making up your mind, but really, you didn’t need to. It was already made up the moment he let you into his home and offered friendship.
Johnny climbed over you, careful not to crush you. He hovered, face aligned with yours and a smile on his face. You stared at him in awe.
That smile of his could light up the whole world if he allowed it. It lit up yours, after all.
His hand dove between your bodies, and when you felt the head of him slowly press to your entrance, you sucked in a breath.
He took his time, slowly easing into you, filling you and leaving you with greedily wanting more and more.
“Oh god,” you groaned, and he followed after. His eyes were squeezed shut as you took him in fully, and when he bottomed out, he forced them open to gaze down at you.
“Look at me the ‘ole time, aye? Wanna see ye,” he said, and who were you to deny it?
Johnny began to move and you had to force your eyes open every time they threatened to flutter closed. He filled you from an emptiness you weren’t aware you had until now, and you never wanted it to leave.
Just like with his fingers, he started off slow. He didn’t want to hurt you, but the more he stared at the pleasured, fucked-out look on your face, his resolve broke and he found himself losing control.
One particularly hard thrust had you gasping, hands scrabbling for purchase on his biceps, and that was all he needed to snap.
Hips thrust erratically into you, plunging deeper and deeper every single hit. The noises were nothing but dirty, a mix of sinful slaps and shaky moans filling the atmosphere.
“Takin’ me so good, bonnie,” he sighed, hand cradling your cheek as he continued his relentless torture. “Made for me, yeah?”
“Yes,” you whimpered, fingernails dipping into his skin and marking him with crescent shaped indents. “All for you, Johnny, nobody else.”
“Tha’s right, sweet girl.” His head tilted down to graze his lips along your jaw, peppering loving kisses up to your ear. “Dinnae need tha’ bloke of yours anymore. ‘M gonna take care of ye.”
That sounded divine. You wanted all of that and more.
“Please,” you begged, though unsure what for.
Johnny smiled against your skin before pulling himself back up. He grabbed hold of your legs, gently pressing them up so your knees were level with your chest.
His eyes never strayed from your face, not even when he went back to giving you everything he had in the way he fucked you.
He was proudly marking his territory, taking everything you had while giving you everything in return.
You couldn’t compress the moans that escaped you with every brutal thrust in your cervix. He was hitting every damn spot in you, as if he had your entire body already mapped out.
“Gonna take ye away from ‘im,” he grunted, his fingertips digging into the flesh of your thighs where they pressed against your chest. “Never gonna let another man hurt ye again.”
You cried, tears pouring down your cheeks in rivers. Your body was so overwhelmed with the pleasure he brought you, but god, you wanted all of it. You were going to make sure you took it all.
Johnny continued his string of praises as he glided in and out of you, your cunt molding around him like the perfect fit. He was fast and hard with his actions, yet his words were sweet and tender, only ever showering you with things you needed to hear.
“Ye gonna give me another one, pretty girl?” he asked, his own voice nearly failing on him from his own pleasure.
You nodded quickly, eyes locked on to his. He grinned in approval, cocking his head to the side.
“C’mon, bonnie. Ken ye can do it f’me.”
Those words of encouragement were enough to have you clenching around him, body succumbing to your second orgasm. You felt absolutely divine, head completely spacing out and relieving itself of any worries or stress.
“There ye go,” he cooed, unstopping of his thrusts. He chased his own release, sweat beading along his forehead and dripping down his temple. “Such a good girl, bonnie.”
You whimpered, body spent and exhausted. You didn’t stop that from allowing him to seek out his pleasure. The thought of him filling you, of fully claiming you as his stirred a wild thought in your mind, and you needed it.
“Please, Johnny,” you whined, and he let out a breathless chuckle. It vibrated you to the core.
“Dinnae worry, dove, I’ll give ye what ye want.”
It didn’t take him long to find himself. His movements became less precise and more sloppy, hands slipping from your thighs when his grip became unfocused.
Warmth filled you from the inside and you reveled in its comfort, sighing shakily. He pumped himself in you a few more times, making sure to get out every drop, before stopping to catch his breath.
Johnny looked gorgeous like this. Glistening in sweat, lips parted to suck in air, cheeks flushed pink from the warmth that took over the room.
You couldn’t stop your hand from lifting off of his arm to gently caress his cheek. When he felt your touch, he smiled, leaning into it.
Your heart nearly burst in fondness.
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Johnny cleaned you up and let you change into his clothes, which you happily put on.
The two of you laid in the comfort of his bed, his arm tucking you into his side, your eyes staring up at the ceiling.
“I meant everythin’ I said, dove. ‘M gonna take ye away from ‘im, ye won’t ever have to deal with ‘im again,” Johnny said softly.
The thought of leaving your boyfriend was scary, but the thought of leaving behind Johnny after this was scarier. You knew what the obvious choice was.
You had to trust him. And trust him you did.
“Okay,” you whispered in return, and when he turned his head to smile down at you, you’d happily go along this journey into the unknown with him.
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finally got around to writing smut like i’ve been planning on and what better choice than mr mactavish himself 🙏🏻 hes so yummy i wanna eat him
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battlekidx2 · 23 hours
Text
“Do you like girls?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you like boys?”
“I don’t know. I think I like TV shows.”
I remember when I was in middle school all the other girls were talking about the guys they liked and I said I didn’t like anyone. I just wanted to do my own thing.
I didn’t really get why I would want to date anyone. I understood friendship, companionship— having someone to share my interests and mutually info dump to sounded cool— but I struggled to understand the appeal of spending every day and every night with someone else. Of holding hands and going on dates. 
This led to a lot of homophobic bullying and a few of them would act disgusted that I might be into them. Constantly acting like I was looking at their boobs and sexualizing them (I never made eye contact with anyone and would frequently look at the wall or space out while looking in their general direction). Or make a big show of not being interested and many other things.
I didn’t get this either. I didn’t know why I would be interested in any of them. They treated me poorly and I thought attraction was something people made up and simply just claimed to feel towards other people.
Just like I never understood celebrity crushes. You don’t know the person so how could you possibly know you liked them? And I never understood how people “chose” who they dated. Did they just choose whoever they liked hanging out with the most?
But any time I voiced this it was always met with worse and worse reactions. It led to isolation among peers and my family. My parents made it pretty clear I wasn’t who they wanted me to be. That I wasn’t normal.
I soon learned to fake it. Pretend I understood it.
The idea of not being attracted to anyone seemed like a foreign idea to most people I met. Even when I branched out and moved away, I met a few people in the lgbt community who couldn’t grasp it either and reacted poorly and it made me feel stupid. Like maybe I wasn’t just screwed up to people who fit in the neat little box society wants you to fit in, but to everyone else as well.
Maybe I was wrong. If it’s an impossibility even in this community that champions diversity and acceptance then can that really be my reality?
I kept trying to force it. To date, but every time I did I always felt that same skin crawling discomfort and it always petered out. It didn’t matter who it was or what gender. It always felt wrong. It was suffocating.
I don’t think there’s a movie that better portrays that all consuming, suffocating stagnation of feeling so out of place– knowing you’re out of place compared to those around you– and in response forcing yourself to fit what other people expect of you than I Saw the TV Glow.
Whenever I think back to growing up or whenever I return home that same feeling this movie is centered around always drenches my experiences.
And even now it’s hard to put into words when I talk to other people what I’ve felt when it comes to this aspect of my life.
That comment from Owen about knowing there’s nothing there when talking about romance and attraction, but being too afraid to look and knowing that his parents know something is wrong with him hit harder than any other scene from a movie I’ve watched this year.
It’s that absence of something that is at the heart of asexuality that makes me always question what I choose to identify as when I have to explain it to someone. Because for the most part my explanation boils down to (in broad oversimplified terms): I’ve never felt attraction, I’m more interested in watching a Spider-Man movie than I’ve ever been into even just the idea of dating, every time I’ve attempted to date it’s been uncomfortable and I’ve actively dodged anything beyond friendship while in the “relationship”.
And when I try to voice that to another person it always feels like those experiences don’t hold water. That’s describing the absence of something. There’s no real proof of the identity.
With being bi or gay or lesbian there’s something you can I don’t know—point to?— that can help you know your identity.
And that’s the fact that you’ve experienced attraction towards one or more people of one or more genders.
It’s defined not by the lack of something but the presence of an experience.
And so every time I try and explain it I end up feeling stupid. Like I just haven’t tried hard enough to find someone compatible. That I need to get back into the proverbial saddle and try again. I always in some way feel ashamed and backtrack as a result.
This is in no way to say that it’s harder or easier to be one identity or the another. Everyone’s experiences are different and everyone experiences are valid. This is just a struggle I’ve found that’s unique to asexuality that many people I’ve talked to have also experienced.
I haven’t felt that part of my experience be seen in media until I saw this movie. Maybe I’m latching onto what I can get or maybe that was an intrinsic part of the movie. That’s not important. What’s important is that it’s something I felt seen in even if it was literally just one scene.
This is my really long winded and roundabout way of saying that I really think this movie is going to stick with me much longer than any other thing I’ve seen this year.
Things can be hard to put into words and as a result I tend to keep things inside. I’m fairly certain I’m ace but it might turn out I’m on a different romantic spectrum then I thought or I fall somewhere different than I thought on the ace spectrum. I don’t know what I’ll discover in the future.
I’m likely not going to express my label out loud to anyone but a select few. I still can’t express this particular label out loud to many people. My family is definitely never going to hear it. A friend or two might.
It’s something I struggle with on a regular basis. I’m fine with identifying with the label in my head—in a lot of ways it makes me feel comfortable and happy— but any time I try to voice it the words die in my throat and I can’t help but feel ashamed. It’s easier to just tell people I don’t want to date right now. That there are all these factors in the way (finances, time, jobs, etc) than it is to try and explain what I’ve just rambled about above.
I know many people have felt and understood that experience and I hope people know they’re valid. You can express your identity with your full chest, shout it from the rooftops and let people know, or you can keep it to yourself, identifying as your label solely in your head. Both experiences are valid. And if your label changes at some point in your life that doesn’t make what you chose to identify as at this point any less valid too. People are always learning and growing. You can gain a new understanding of yourself as time move forward.
Sorry for the way too long ramble. This movie made me feel things.
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writingroom21 · 1 day
Text
The Nanny
Pairing: Rafe x Nanny Reader
Summary: Being Wheezie's nanny was great. The only downside was dealing with the oldest Cameron, Rafe. What happens when his fascination with the nanny becomes a reality?
Warnings: Angst, hurt, slight mentions of toxic family, (let me know if I missed any)
Wc: 6.2K
A/N: I'm sorry in advance for any heart ache
Chapter 6: Living for a Sunny day
“Who was that?” Sofia asks. Rafe just stands there watching you walk off, looking around meeting the eyes of everyone watching. A hand lands on his chest, the voice swatting the haze away in his mind. “Rafe, who was that?” He looks down to look at Sofia, he notices how her eyes don’t have the same golden flecks yours do. He searches her face trying to find something that would chase the thoughts of you out of his mind. Coming up short Rafe takes her hand off his chest, moving out of her grasp. “I gotta go.”
“Are you serious right now? You’re just going to run off to some other chick?” Sofia’s words rub Rafe the wrong way. Couldn’t she see that she was the other chick not the other way around. “Yeah I am. She’s not the other chick you are.” Rafe starts to chase after you, the bodies of people making it hard to get through. When he gets to the parking lot he can’t find your car. Knowing that you are probably home he gets in his truck, racing out to the street. The car ride was filled with silence, the only noise coming from his thoughts that won’t stop.
How could you fuck this up? This is why you are worthless, can’t even stop yourself from being stupid. Worthless that’s all he is. Not enough for his fathers love, his sisters, now you, he will never be good enough. His fist slaps on the wheel, the coke in his system fueling the rage he already feels inside him. The lights of the streets are just blurs due to how fast he’s going, not caring that he could be pulled over. He needs to see you. At least explain to you why he did it. You have to understand right? 
Tanny Hill comes into view, all the lights are out making him more nervous. Getting inside the house he doesn’t hear anything but your car is still in the driveway. The walk to the front door to the second floor where your room is takes forever. At the top of the stairs he can hear some music, so faint that it barely caught his attention. He knocks on the door then again when you don’t answer. “Please open the door. We need to talk.” Silence. The only sign of life on the other side coming from your music. Rafe jiggles the door knob, trying to force his way in. “Come on sunny open the fucking door.” Nothing.
Rafe’s fist starts pounding on the door, the other still trying to open it. “Open this fucking door right not. I swear to god I will knock it off its hinges.” His voice is shouting now, his side making contact with the door. “It didn’t even mean anything. Are you really going to just ignore me over something so fucking stupid.” The more you ignore him, the harder it is for him to keep his cool. He kicks the door only stopping once he hears you crying. Placing his forehead on the door he takes a deep breath. “Please, baby. Just…just open the door.” 
On the other side you are curled in a ball, hands over your ears trying to block the noise out. Flashbacks to when your father would yell at you come rushing back. Every argument playing in your head only makes the tears worse. “Please.” It sounds so pathetic, the pleading in his voice. He’s like a little kid again, begging his dad to love him, to show him any ounce of compassion after his mother died. “Please don’t leave me Sunny.” He stands there for a few minutes, waiting to see if you will finally open the door for him. When he realizes that you won't, he breaks.
Tears well in his eyes as he backs up, going to his room to regulate himself. The door slams behind him, shaking the frame. Rafe’s pacing around, his hand digging into his head, slapping himself to get out of this. Nothing works. The tears are now falling, staining his cheeks before he has a chance to wipe them away. Walking further into the room he notices something on his bedside table, it was empty this morning just a picture frame on it. Walking close he sees it’s the necklace. He picks it up, the burning in his eyes and throat intensifying. He slams the necklace back down, grabbing the frame and throwing it against the far wall. “FUCK!” He goes around the room, grabbing whatever he can just to throw it. Thinking if he can’t let the anger out everything will be fine in the morning.
The room is a mess. Broken glass liters the floor, stabbing into the soles of his shoes but he doesn’t care. He lays in his bed, the same sheets for when you both slept there. They still smell like you. He grabs the pillow you slept on, hugging it to his chest to get some comfort in you. Knowing that what he did would change the relationship for the worst. He falls asleep wishing that the night never happened, that he just waited for you instead of going to the bonfire by himself. No matter how much he wished for it, nothing will change. In the morning he will still be the failure he always was.
You wait until you can’t hear anything from the other end of the hall. Slowly getting up you start to pack a bag. Throwing whatever you can find into it and quietly leave your room. You sneak past his room down the stairs willing your footsteps to be quiet enough so he won’t hear. Making it out of the house you race to your car, starting it and leaving before he notices that you left. You can’t go back home, you still haven’t talked to your parents after you said you won’t be given them money. The texts you sent were left unanswered letting you know that you don’t have a place there anymore. If you’re honest you only think they kept talking to you because you would give them everything they asked. 
You just drive not really knowing where you will go. You guess that sleeping in the car would be fine but you would rather not have cops knocking on your window and running off to tell Ward. The next thought is Sarah. She’s most likely at John B’s with the rest of the pogues. Before you even know it you are parked in front of his house, then out the car and knocking on the door. If anyone saw the tears on your face they didn’t mention it, welcoming you with open arms.
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The sun creeps in through the windows, beaming down on your face waking you up. The first thing you notice is the lumpy couch you were sleeping on. Then the dull headache forming behind your eyes, dehydrated from all of the crying. Finally you hear their voices, all of them talking in the kitchen as John B makes the gang something to eat. Your body just lays there, not wanting to get up and face the music. Last night memories flooding into your thoughts. Rafe’s hands all over Sofia, the way he agreed to leave with her. As if he wasn’t just in you a few hours before. Like he didn’t tell you how much he hated the thought of you with someone else. It’s his game isn’t it? He makes a girl feel special and once he’s done with her he’s onto the next. You weren’t any different from them. Why you thought he changed will just continue to be a mystery.
“Sleeping Beauty is up.” JJ’s voice carries into the living room. “Dude shut up.” Kie swats the backside of his head. “Damn my bad.” JJ replies while rubbing where she hit him. You sit up on the couch bringing your legs to your chest as the group makes their way over to you. “Hi.” your voice is weak, it doesn’t even sound like you. They all sit around you, Sarah handing you a glass of water and a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon. “Sorry, don't really have much around the place.” You just smile at the Routledge boy thanking him for the food.
“What happened?” Sarah asks. “No, I don’t wanna talk about it.” Everyone just looks at you, sharing glances. “Well, something had to have happened. You came here at 2 o’clock in the morning crying and asking me if you could stay the night something had to happen.” Sarah urges not wanting to press but she’s worried about you. She’s never seen you that upset, the closest time being after a fight with your parents. Even then you refused to talk about it. JJ swings an arm around the back of the couch, his hands rubbing your shoulder. “Come on princess, you can tell us what happened. We don’t bite… unless you are into that.” He winks at you. “Dude really.” Pope chimes in, nudging JJ’s leg with his foot. “What did Rafe do something again?” You scoff “What makes you think it was Rafe?” You argue the words not convincing you as they hit your ears. “Well, do I have to remind you about what happened at the country club? It’s like you two are seeing each other or something.” The room gets quiet, everyone expecting your answer but it never comes. “Oh my God please don’t tell me you slept with Rafe” Sarah asks. 
You shrink into yourself trying to hide from their prying eyes. “I didn’t think you’d get this far you know I just thought it was like something fun then it just got better. He just seemed like he actually cared about me. It’s stupid I just thought that it was different, you know?” No one knows what to say. Rafe’s history is no secret, the whole island knows how much of a womanizer he is. They just never expected for you to fall into the same trap, especially after seeing how it never worked. “What did he do?” Kie asks. “I caught him making out with some girl at the bonfire last night.” The room gets silent again. They share looks trying to find something to say to make you feel better. “So you are telling me that after the scene he caused at the club he still fucked this up. Fucking dumbass.” 
“Dude” Everyone yells. “Jayj really? That wasn’t necessary.” Kie says as she sandwiches herself between you and JJ. Putting distance between you and his dumb comments. “What? We are all thinking about it. Like come on, he finally gets a chance with her and he goes and hookup with another girl. It’s just so stupid.” He’s right it is stupid. A tear falls down your face and you wipe it. “Jayj is right, it’s stupid.” Sarah sits on the other side of you, pulling you into a hug. “It’s not stupid. Your feelings are never stupid.” Sarah rationalizes, wanting you to know it’s okay to let yourself feel something.
“He just seemed so different. Everything he was saying and doing made me really think he felt something for me.” You pause, taking a sip of water to drown the lump in your throat. “For fucks sake we were with each other for days. I told him things I haven’t told other people.” A sob breaks your sentence. Your emotions winning over causing you to break down in Sarah’s arms. “I know. He always seemed different around you. I’ve never seen him chase a girl the way he chased you.” Kie thinks she’s helping but it only hurts worse. If others saw a difference then what changed? Why would he act like he wanted more only to take that away. To break you in a way no one has managed.
“Want to know what I think?” Pope breaks the silence. “I don’t think you having feelings for him is stupid. You took his actions as him caring for you, there’s nothing wrong with that. He’s the stupid one. He’s going to have to live with the fact that he lost the one person who actually gave him a chance.” He stops for a second, finally looking at you. “He’s going to live with that forever. You are going to find someone better and never think about him again.” You smile are him, the tears blurring out his features. You can make out a shy smile, telling he’s nervous for voicing his thoughts. “Thank you Pope.” You laugh, wiping your tears. 
Pope is definitely the smartest out of everyone in this room. But he just found one thing he was wrong about. It doesn’t matter what pain you are feeling at this moment. It can be ten years down the line and you will still think about this. Every memory of him will always find its way to creep back in. His smile will forever be imprinted in your memories. Remembering all the times you were the cause of it. No matter how much you hate Rafe, a piece of you will always love him, and will always miss him. 
You pick at the food as you listen to them talk. Happy that they are finally letting it go. When you finish you take your plate to the sink, giving it a rinse before setting it down. “Hey want to go out to the marsh? We can go swimming and have a few beers.” John B shouts out to you. It doesn’t sound like a bad plan. It could be good to go out and actually have fun with some friends. “Sure why not?” The group all cheer, getting up to get ready. You borrowed a bikini from Sarah since you didn’t want to go back to the house. There’s slight bruising on your neck, the hickies Rafe left now starting to fade. You brush your fingers over them before throwing on some clothes, letting your hair down to cover them up. 
All of you make your way out to the dock, hopping into the boat and sailing off. The weather was beautiful today. The sun was shining and the temperature was perfect, hot but not to the point of suffocating you. “How many beers do you think I can down before dropping off the side of the boat?” JJ laughs, pouring beer into his mouth. Most of it didn’t make it in but it's the thought that counts. “Dude come on. You're going to waste all the beers before we can even drink them.” John B shouts. The waters ripples as the boat keeps pushing further into the marsh. It’s been a while since you’ve been out here.
The last time had to be with some friends in high school, yet again even that was very few. It was hard to get time alone with friends when you were working all the time. Everyday was school, work, homework, and sleep. On the rare occasions that you did have a day off it was usually spent helping out your parents. Cleaning up around the house while they were out doing god knows what. Or worse having to help your dad down from whatever high he was on as your mom ignores it. Thinking if she doesn’t pay attention then it isn’t a problem. 
Looking around at the group in front of you is refreshing. There’s not a single person here who wants something from you or expects you to be perfect. They just want you to be you. “Whatcha thinking about.” Sarah grabs your attention as she sits next to you, handing you a beer. “Nothing really. Just glad to have all of you.” She smiles at you, leaning back a little to let the sun warm her face. “He’s an idiot you know.” You both know who she’s talking about, yet neither one of you dare to say his name. “It’s okay Sarah.” It’s all you can really say, nothing else comes to mind. “No, I mean it. He spent the past year trying to get with you and now look at this. You always seemed to make him better. It’s a shame he let that go.” You just stare at her, words failing to form on your tongue. “Plus having you as a sister-in-law would have been pretty cool.”
You both giggle, the tension from your body leaving. It would have been cool being a part of her family. Maybe not with Ward he likes you but he would probably want better for the older Cameron. The rest of the family had no issues welcoming you in. It would have been nice to be a part of a family who actually cares about you, you still are but it’s different. The boat comes to a stop, JJ throws the anchor overboard to keep the boat in place. “Alright everyone, gather around this is your fun guide speaking. Today we have a very special activity for a very special guest. Today we will be getting smashed and partying till we drop.” JJ shouts, throwing off his clothes before jumping in the water.
“Hey smartass! Sorry to break it to you but we definitely don’t have enough beer to get smashed and we aren’t throwing a party.” John B shouts back at JJ. “Come one man. Can’t you just let me live my life. Trying to set a mood here.” They all laugh at the blonde boy ignoring his complaints. “Gross set the mood with someone else Jayj.” Sarah jokes sticking her tongue out at him. The rest of the afternoon was spent like that.
All of you joke around as you swim and drink, relaxing for the day with each other. By the time the sun is starting to set you realize you haven’t thought about Rafe once. Well now you are but it’s good that you can live your life without having a thought of him for a while. Everyone is back on the boat now, going back due to the lack of food that was brought. By lack of food you mean the no food that was brought.  The boat ride to Kie’s parents restaurant wasn’t long. All of you quite, too hungry to even speak to one another.
John B parks the boat and you all hop out, walking up the dock to get through the back of the restaurant. “Hey mom.” Kie calls out. “Hey sweetie.” Anna answers from behind the counter. “Let me guess free food?” She eyes the rest of you behind Kie. “I mean it's going to be thrown out at the end of the night. This way we aren't wasting more food than necessary.” Anna just looks at her for a second. She sighs making her way towards the kitchen. “Mike, fire up some food for Kie and her friends please.” SHe turns back to all of you. “Go on and sit. I’ll bring it out once it’s ready.” You all cheer, finding empty seats and sitting in them.
You are all chatting when you hear someone clear their throat behind you. Your shoulders tense for a moment, scared that it’s Rafe. But once you turn around you see that it’s Topper. “Hey.” He says. “Uh hey Topper what's up?” You ask, confused on why he’s talking to you. Your interactions with him consist of when him and Sarah were dating and the few times you ran into him when he’s with Rafe. Besides that the two of you don’t talk. “I was wondering if I could talk to you for a second. Privately.” He looks at the group and then at you. 
“Why do you need to talk to her?” Kie asks, squinting her eyes at him. “It’s okay Kie.” You reassure her then look back at the boy. He looks so out of place standing there all awkwardly. “Yeah we can go out the back.” You say while getting up. Topper follows you as you make your way to the outdoor seating area. “How are you doing? You know after last night.” He asks. You just roll your eyes at him, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m doing great. Realized I was making a fool of myself but doing good.” He winces at your words. He watched as you left crying last night, then watched as Rafe came running by a few minutes later.
It wasn’t till later on in the night he really found out what happened. Him and Kelce sharing a look once they realized that their earlier conversation actually had an impact on Rafe. Topper actually felt bad for you. He may not have known you well but he did know how sweet you were. When him and Sarah were dating she would always rave about you. Rafe did too but it was always underlined with some infatuation with you. But the way he spoke about you at the bonfire was different then before, he was defensive over you as if he really cared about you.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know that’s where he ran off to.” You don’t want to hear the excuses, tired of being lied to. “It’s okay you don’t have to defend him.” Topper cuts you off before you can say anything else. “I’m not trying to defend him, I swear. I just thought he went off to do lines of coke or something. He was literally telling us about you before he went off. I really didn’t know.” It seems like he’s telling the truth, he doesn’t have a reason to lie. “It doesn’t matter. He did what he did and nothing will change it.” Your arms go to hug yourself, needing some comfort. 
“He was looking for you earlier. He’s been running around the whole island trying to find you.” Toppers words short circuit your brain. He was looking for you? “Why?” your eyes are trained to the ground not wishing that the ground will swallow you up. “He wants to talk I guess. Said that you don’t have the full story or something like that.” You scoff. “Full story? I caught him making out with a girl just hours after we were together. Just after he told me he doesn’t like seeing me with other guys. He just wanted me to be fully his while he could go do whatever he wanted. I don’t need to hear his excuses and you can tell him that.” 
As you walk away Topper calls out to you one last time. “At least let him know you’re alive. He’s been freaking out because all his calls go straight to voicemail and you aren’t answering his texts. He fucked up, I get that but he’s genuinely scared that you’re hurt. I’ve never seen him like this.” You pause and look at him. “I didn’t have my charger with me last night. My phone is probably dead right now.” With that you go back into the restaurant finding that the food has already been brought out.
You sit down at the table, everyone watching as you start to eat your burger. “What did he want?” Pope asks, sipping his water. “Take a wild guess.” You snap back, inhaling sharply once you hear your tone. “Sorry I didn’t mean to be rude.” Pope reaches a hand over the table, grabbing yours and giving it a tight squeeze. “It’s okay. We won’t talk about it again.” Their conversation drowns out, your thoughts too loud to hear what is going on in the outside world. You didn’t even realize you had finished your food or that everyone was waiting on you. 
“Why don’t we head back? It’s getting late.” Sarah suggests, her eyes watching you as you gather your things without a word.Throughout the whole process of getting back you are quiet, Topper's words still ringing in your head. He doesn’t truly care that you were gone, he only cared that he couldn’t lie his way out of this mess. Rafe knows that this is over, that last night was the breaking point of the relationship. That’s why he’s scared, he’s scared because nothing will dig him out of the hole he made for himself.
“You can stay the night again if you want. I really don’t mind, I can even kick JJ out of the other room so you can have a bed.” You look at John B as you walk towards the house. “It’s okay really. Ward, Rose, and Wheezie are getting back tomorrow anyway. It would be weird if I wasn’t home when they got there.” There would be questions if you weren’t there, Wheezie would hound you until you told her. As much as it hurts, you could never bring her or the rest of them into this mess. Not only for the safety of your job but more importantly for Rafe. If they found out what he did they would just chastise him further. He may have done bad things but deep down he’s not a bad person.
“If that’s what you want then okay. But call us if you need anything.” He pulls you into a hug, letting go and walking into the house. You go inside and grab your bag, saying a quick goodbye to everyone and heading to your car. Once inside you just sit there, willing yourself to start the engine and drive back to Tanny. After what seems like forever you gain the courage to finally start the car, if only it had the same plan. You twist the key, the car starts to make a weird noise. It sounds like it's starting, the rumbling of the engine goes, then it stops to make a clunking noise. “You have got to be kidding me.” You mumble under your breath, resting your forehead on the wheel. You try your key again and the same thing happens, only this time louder and worse. 
A knock on your window startles you, jumping back and grabbing your chest and you see that it's JJ. You open the door and he stands there leaning on it and the roof of the car. “Having car trouble princess?” Funny you think. “No shit sherlock.” You mumble. You guess it’s a good thing that you’ve been saving for a new car. The money can now go into fixing this hunk of junk. “Come on, I can give you a ride. I heard you tell John B you should be home for tomorrow.” He grabs you to drag you out the car, getting your bag and slamming the car door. “Really?” “My bad the door just slipped.” He raises his hands up in surrender.
JJ walks over to his bike, handing you his helmet and getting on. You take it from him, placing it on and clumsy hopping on the back. “Gotta hold on to me tight unless you want to fall off.” Your arms wrap around his waist, squeezing him really tight, probably more than needed. “Jesus gonna kill me with that grip. Relax a little would ya.” You do as he says. Once he is satisfied enough he starts the bike and is racing off.
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Rafe has been freaking out all day. He woke up this morning and ignored the mess in his room, going straight to your door. He knocked, waiting a second before knocking again. “Sunny it’s me. Can we please talk?” He tries to open the door, happy to find that it wasn;t locked like last night. Relief washed over him as he opened it up, glad you finally came to your senses. That all vanishes when he sees that the room is empty. Your bed was slightly messy but the covers were still fully on so you hadn’t slept there. There were a few articles of clothing that were tossed around. Everything was in place, the only thing missing was you. 
At first he thought you were just down stairs, already starting your day but when he got down there he couldn’t find you. Looking out the front door he sees your car is also gone. That’s when the panic startles to fully set in. You were gone, just picked up your things and left. There’s an ache that starts to form in his chest, his breathing getting shorter as his shaky hands get his phone to dial your number. The first ring goes through, the second cut short by your voicemail. “Sorry I couldn’t come to the phone right now. Text me if you need me, bye!” Your voice plays through his phone speakers. “Fuck!”
He starts to spam you, every call going straight to voicemail, his texts going unanswered. He’s been driving around the whole island looking for you and nothing. Every bad thought starts to race in his head. What if you got hurt? There’s creeps out there, if you left in the middle of the night they could have gotten to you. Or worse, you got in some accident and no one knows where you are. You could be dead in a ditch somewhere. Every new theory sends him down a deeper spiral. All his thoughts pointing to you being dead and truly leaving him. He can handle you hating him because he would know you’re safe. But he can’t handle you being gone, he can’t go through this again.
A water drop hits Rafe’s check, then another, a sob making its way through. He’s pacing around the house, tears freely falling. His fear of losing you brings back the memories of his mom. Watching day after day as she got worse, the doctors not doing anything to save her. He’s eight all over again begging his mom to not leave him, for her to get better, singing her the lullaby she sang to him. She was the first person to ever love him, to show him that he was worth something. Once she died she became the last one. Ward blamed him for everything, the fact that he had his mothers features making Ward’s hatred for him worse.Wheezie and Sarah never treated him badly but he knew they were afraid of him. 
When Rose came into the picture things took a turn for the worse. He hated that his dad could move on so quickly, as if his mother meant nothing to him at all. Rose tried to be nice but shortly stopped after realizing that Rafe would never like her. Everyone on the island either hated him or was afraid of him, no one took a chance on him. That was until you. You came into his life with that beautiful smile and kind words. You turned the world around every time you talked to him. Never once showing fear or disgust like everyone else. It was like he wasn’t Rafe Cameron the island's basket case, he could be who he wanted with you. But he’s fucked it all up.
His pity party was cut short when the sounds of a motorcycle made its way into the house. He rushes to the front door swinging it open to be greeted by the sight of you on the back of JJ Maybanks motorcycle. His blood runs hot as he watches you get off handing him the helmet and hugging him. Rafe can’t hear what’s being said but he doesn’t like how close the two of you are right now. Hypocritical but he doesn’t care. He watches as you turn around the smile dropping from your face when you see him. There was a sinking feeling in his stomach, bile threatening to leave him.
As you get closer you just stare at the floor walking past him into the house without a word. “Sunny.” Rafe’s voice shakes as he calls for you. “Don’t call me that!” You shout at him continuing to walk to the stairs. “Please can we just talk.” He pleads as he follows you. “There’s nothing to talk about Rafe. What’s done is done.”You look at him over your shoulder, he looks so fragile. “Please baby. I need you to talk to me. FUCK! Yell for all I care, please.” He sobs, hands grabbing your arm as you try to  walk up the steps. “I can’t keep going on like this. I-' You turn around to face him. “You what? Huh? You thought ‘hey I had enough of her time to fuck some other slut’ Or was it ‘I have her wrapped around my finger. She’s so dumb that she’ll let me fuck other girls.’” You didn’t realize how close you got.
You're practically staring up at him. “No, I swear” His eyes red as tears streak down his checks. “Fuck! Why can’t you just listen to me! I’m trying…” “You’re trying? Are you fucking kidding me? So let me get this straight, you fuck me practically every day as id I’m this sex toy for you. Then you go out and make out with these other girls as if you weren’t just cumming in me. If thats you trying, you fucking me and others is you trying?” Tears well up in your eyes and your voice cracks at the end. Rafe starts pacing around with his arms wrapping around his head. He’s mumbling but nothing is audible. “If that’s you trying then it’s a good thing it’s over. I deserve better than that.” This stops Rafe in his tracks. He starts walking to you but stops before he can reach. “Please don’t leave me.” It’s barely a whisper but you still heard it. 
Your eyes widen and mouth drops open but nothing comes out. You stare at him as his hands cover his eyes. Wiping away any tears like if you saw them you would see how weak he was. How weak you made him. “I was scared okay. I’m scared you will leave me like everyone. I- I can’t stand not being around you. Don’t start.” Your mouth shuts, words dying on your tongue. “You make everything better. I have these thoughts sometimes and” a sob cuts his words “they stopped when you were around. All the ‘I’m to good enough’, ‘you’re a failure’, all that shit just fucking vanished. You’re like sunshine, everything just seems brighter around you.”
He takes a deep breath. “That day at the country club when I saw you flirting with Maybank I saw red. I just thought you were going to see that you don’t need me that you were better off with someone else. Everyone has left me but you leaving would break me. I was scared and I did what I always do I fucked up. I pushed you away so you can’t hurt me. I didn’t think that you would care, I swear.” He grab your arm pulling you towards him. Rafe’s arms wrapping around your waist as he hurries his head in in junction where your neck meets your shoulder. Your right hand raises to rub his head, the left rest on his bicep. 
“You’re right you didn’t think. You really hurt me.” You starts to pull away from him, Rafes eyes dropping to watch his empty hands. “I thought I meant more to you. I told you we needed to communicate and you didn’t. I just” “I’m trying to. This is me trying to tell you.” The blue eyes that you loved looked so broken and empty. A matching set to yours. “It’s a little too late. I don’t know how to trust you right now. Rafe I told you things that I’ve always kept a secret. I thought it was obvious that I always cared about you. Yet all I’m given in return is deceit, I caught you making out with another girl. Did you even mean the things you said? I just need sometime.” 
The sandals you wore echo along the floor as you back up. His left hand catches you before you could get too far. “This can’t be it, please Sunny. I fucked up I know. I let Kelce get into my head and I spiraled, I know that. But please give me a second chance…please. Today I thought you were hurt or dead. You scared that shit out of me today and I couldn’t stand the thought of never being able to see you again. Please we can work this out.” You met his eyes, tears welling up. “I can’t do this right now Rafe. This really hurts me, don’t make it harder.”
“Nothing I say will change your mind will it?” Rafe lets you go and walks away leaving you behind. “Do you know how scared I was last night? You scream, smashing my door, and throwing stuff around is scary Rafe. All I could think about was my dad, I didn’t like when he got like that. I won’t take it from you either.” Your words stop him in his tracks but you don’t stick around to watch. Tears hit the floor, a tiny sob leaving your lips as you make your way up the stairs. Making it in your room, you curl up into bed crying until you finally fall asleep. Wishing that the past two days never happened and this was just some bad nightmare.
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j4keluver · 2 days
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baby, i'm here to love you
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pairing: boyfriend ! jake x girlfriend ! reader genre: established relationship, angst, comfort warnings: reader calling herself stupid, crying authors note: this is for my pookie @luvj4key. i hope i did you justice love </3
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jake has always been the best boyfriend - like a golden retriever to your beck and call. his smile radiates through the entire room and his laugh could heal the souls of millions. he has loved you endlessly and never once have you ever doubted it.
so how did you end up yelling at him over not washing the dishes? "jake i asked you to do one thing for me ! and you couldn't even do that," you yell out. whatever those girls said about mercury being in retrograde, were right. it felt like the earth was rotating backwards with finals week around the corner. you have summed up about an average of 3 hours of sleep a day, the rest of the hours hunched over in the library.
it was getting more frustrating with the days going on and jake has been busy with his own school work. you knew jake was busy, either studying for his own finals or gaming with his friends. jake was always a smart guy, being in honors classes and passing them with ease. you. on the other hand, struggle to grasp concepts until they are fully immersed after countless hours of practice.
you had given jake a heads up to ask him to please wash the dishes before coming home. you wanted to cook dinner but you didn't have any clean dishes to use. jake, on the hand, had just got home and decided to take a small nap before doing some cleaning around the house. he sets an alarm and it doesn't ring.
"baby i'm sorry, it was a mistake, i didn't mean to forget," he says as he tries to pull you in for a hug. you shake off his advances and you roll your eyes at him, "it wasn't that hard of a task to do but you still couldn't do it? i've been endlessly studying in the library for finals week because i'm not a genius like you and i don't understand the material ! i keep trying all these practice problems and i keep getting everything wrong and i just wanted one thing to be done. i'm starving all day and i wanted to come home and cook us dinner but none of the dishes are done and.."
your voice breaks with ease and jake's demeanor immediately softens. his tone is so soft that you would miss it, "baby..."
the emotions that you've been holding for however long comes breaking down as tears streamed down your face. jake feels like his heart is chipping away, "oh baby, come here." you take a step forward before jake fully wraps his arms around you, his cologne wafting into your senses. his arms rub soothing circles on your hip as he plants soft kisses into your hair. "hey it's okay, i got you, i got you."
your tears start to slow down as you slowly catch your breathe. jake slowly pulls you to sit on his lap while the sound of your breathing is only heard. jake whispers to you, "what happened baby? tell me."
you only let out a small exhale, "i've just been so stressed with finals and i just can't grasp the content and i feel so stupid. i just don't know how to get these formulas down and i didn't want to bother you because i know you were busy with your own finals. i just didn't want you to become annoyed at me or think i'm stupid."
jake reaches up his hand to cup your cheek and softly caress it with his thumb, "my sweet angel, i can't believe you've been holding all of this in. it's okay to not understand content after studying it, sometimes you just need a little more time for things to click. if it doesn't, you know i'm here to help you always."
he continues on, "you are not stupid because you don't understand something, okay? you are very smart and work very hard and you can never bother me. baby, i'm here to love you."
your eyes soften at his words and the only thing you can say in this moment is a 'thank you.' jake points to his watering eyes, "look baby! you even got me crying." you only softly laugh and give him a kiss which he gladly returns.
"let's order some takeout and we can work on some of your material tomorrow morning? how does that sound?" jake says and you nod. for the first time in weeks, you finally smile.
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© belong to j4keluver. do not copy, translate, or repost.
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tiredfox64 · 3 days
Note
Hello :) your writing is so good and I like how you write the Lin Kuei bros so much.
I was wondering if I could request a Bi-han x Werewolf!reader, I have been playing Skyrim alongside Mk1 and realized there isn’t any kind of werewolves type of stuff in mk when there is vampires like Nitara. So I was thinking maybe the reader was a fighter recruited by Liu Kang along with Johnny, Lao, Raiden, and Kenshi. Bi-Han doesn’t understand why Liu Kang recruited the reader as there for one their fighting style lacks cordnation and they fight like an animal. And even worse the reader doesn’t have a lot of displine and doesn’t any care for the titles he has. It’s not until they see them turn into their werewolf form in battle that he understands.
An American Werewolf in China
Prior notes: o(^▽^)o thank you! The werewolves in Skyrim look awesome! You work the same way as me where you combine two things you are dealing with at the same time.
Pairing: Bi-Han x Werewolf! Gn reader
Warnings ‼️: Awooo
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“That insufferable, mischievous, uncoordinated, delinquent is going to fail Earthrealm. This was the best Liu Kang could do?” Bi-Han gritted his teeth.
He was staring at you as you practiced with some of the monks at the Wu Shi academy. Your moves angered him. You were as capable of a fighter as an aggravated wolf. You go around baring your teeth that he saw as unkept with how jagged they looked. So were your nails. It looks like you purposely make them that sharp by rubbing them against rough rocks.
“I trust that Liu Kang made the right decisions. You doubted Johnny Cage yet he still beat us.” Kuai Liang reminded him.
Bi-Han groaned at that reminder. At least Johnny was more coordinated and acted like a human. But you…geez.
Even the first time you guys encountered each other he was infuriated by you. Him, Kuai Liang, and Liu Kang walked into the establishment you worked at. The smell of drunkards wafted in the air since you worked in a pub. Liu Kang’s proposal sounded like the ramblings of someone who was drunk so you ignored him. It wasn’t until Bi-Han tried to grab you that you finally acted.
That beat down was the most humiliating thing he had endured. You leaped on his back and tried choking him out. Kuai Liang tried to rip you off but you were latched on tightly. You even bit down on his shoulder. Though it didn’t pierce through his skin it did leave a large bruise. All the people in the pub payed little mind as if this was the usual.
When Kuai Liang finally managed to tear you off his brother he threw you into the tables nearby. Bi-Han was a mess with his low bun unraveled and scratch marks on his biceps.
“You little—do you know who you are dealing with? I am the Lin Kuei’s grandmaster! You should have more respect!” He yelled
“I don’t give a single fuck! Don’t come in here and fucking touch me!” You snarled back.
“Enough!” Liu Kang yelled out as he bursted into flames.
There was a silence and everyone in the pub scattered out. Can’t be going up in flames in a pub that’s stupid.
After that little incident you saw Liu Kang was telling the truth. You agreed to serve Earthrealm when it came to the Mortal Kombat tournament. But your vicious attack left Bi-Han with a bad taste in his mouth.
You don’t listen. You only listen to certain people. Liu Kang, sure, he’s god you’re not gonna disobey god. Raiden, understandable he is respectable. Tomas? Why him? Bi-Han is the one with the title, show him respect!
If anyone tried to tell you what to do, even something simple like grab some water, you’d be hesitant to obey. Someone told you to move? You gave them a side eye while not moving an inch. You’re acting like a disobedient dog.
That counts for your fighting as well. Like a rogue pitbull latching onto a slab of meat. Sometimes Bi-Han noticed that when you were low to the ground you looked to be moving on all fours. Weird. You leap at your opponents as well.
“They are incompetent. I have not seen them improve at all. Everyone has improved while they grow more wild.” He criticized you.
“Perhaps that’s just what they prefer. Not everyone is capable of the same fighting style.” Kuai Liang was really trying to defend you but even he was unsure of your fighting style.
“This is no fighting style. This is random slashes and hoping they land.”
Bi-Han was about to say more but you seemed to be getting frustrated. You were getting angry even though your opponent was already losing to you. You started shaking and huffing before letting out a yell. A yell that soon turned into a howl. The sound of cracking bones rang out from your body as you started to change before everyone’s eyes.
Your canines grew larger while the front of your face started to protrude into a snout. Your hair grew longer till it became a coat of fur. Your clothes, no matter how many times you tried to keep them on, could not handle the change and ripped again. Perky wolf ears and a bushy tail popped out. Your arms and legs were longer which was the reason the sound of cracking bones was heard. Your eyes that were once human were animalistic with an amber glow to them. By the elder gods! You’re a werewolf.
It basically answers all of Bi-Han’s questions and critiques. You are an animal, half animal actually. As a boy he has heard tales about creatures like you, he thought them tall ones. But here you were standing before him with your ragged coat of fur and glowing amber eyes. This conclusion would be a second guess for him. He would think you were a feral child before guessing you were a werewolf.
You were one pissed off werewolf.
You were growling not at your opponent but Bi-Han. You were staring him down but before you could do anything Liu Kang came running up to you and asked what was wrong. You just whined and pointed your snout at Bi-Han like a pointer dog. You bared your teeth while your ears were pointed back. You’re not happy which means Liu Kang isn’t happy. He walked up to Bi-Han with urgency.
“Stop talking badly about them. They have heard everything. They know they fight like an animal. It still works well.” Liu Kang was not playing.
“If you would have disclosed with me about the fact that they are a werewolf I would have watched my mouth.”
So it’s Liu Kang’s fault that Bi-Han was caught talking behind your back. Alright, his logic is mysterious in nature.
Some of the monks were trying to calm you down. But with the insult from Bi-Han, Johnny and Kenshi fighting again, and Kung Lao saying he will handle you cause he is the best you are just overwhelmed. You started leaping at everyone. You weren’t trying to hurt them but you still are getting used to fighting in your werewolf form. Johnny went flying in one direction and Kenshi went diving to avoid your tackle. Kung Lao leapt onto your back and tried to grab the back of your neck but you started thrashing around like a rodeo bull which knocked him off.
Even Kuai Liang was trying to get a hold of you with his rope but he met a similar fate. Can’t fight a dog with some rope, that’s a challenge. Now he is playing tug-a-war with you and once you let go he flung back hard.
You turned your attention towards Bi-Han before crawling towards him. You towered over him, forcing him to look up at you. Alright, he gets it, he’s wrong. You can stop throwing people around. He doesn’t want a round two with you in this form.
“I take back what I said. It is understandable now.”
It’s not an apology but it’s close. He really doesn’t want to deal with your rage right now so in an effort to douse the fire in your belly he started rubbing behind your ear. It surprisingly worked since your ears went from being pointed back to pointing up to the sky. You stopped showing your teeth and licked up your drool. You stared at Bi-Han for a few more seconds before huffing in his face. It’s the equivalent of sneezing in his face if you were in human form. It’s just unpleasant but he deserved it.
“Alright, enough, go to the zen garden to cool off. We will discuss your fit later on in the day.” Liu Kang addressed you.
You crawled away to the zen gardens to meditate the rage away. All that was left were many men on the ground and Bi-Han wiping his face off.
You turned into quite an interesting case to Bi-Han. He’ll be careful with his mouth now. You proved your point and he doesn’t want to poke the werewolf anymore. Though once this tournament is done he might want to see you again. A werewolf in the Lin Kuei might be a strange yet effective addition. Like having a hunting dog except the dog is huge and human. Seeing that you can be calmed is a good sign. He’ll keep that in mind when he feels he might need you on his side.
After notes: My favorite werewolf movie is An American Werewolf in London (I think y’all could have guessed that). But it was also the way I found out that 🌽 movie theaters were a thing. That was the scariest thing to me. Adiós!
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sorreysorren · 2 days
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shoulder angels don't exist
the cause of your misery at ungodly hours.
you hate (love) him for it.
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“ –what the hell! you said this was a date!”
you hadn’t been paying attention to the scene in front of you until you heard the sound of a slap. you’d been standing behind isagi when you chose to look up. 
“don’t touch me, you cheater!”
“aiku?” isagi and his friends questioned out loud.
“huh? oh, hey guys.” this ‘aiku’ spoke casually, while rubbing his cheek.
you remember giving the hardest side-eye. it was instinct, really.
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that was the first you ever heard and knew of oliver aiku.
due to that, of course, your first impression of him was sour. so sour you think of a green apple. you even visualize a green apple considering his hair dye choice– that stupid yellowish-green shade he was so passionate about. 
you tried to push the thoughts of aiku away as you tied the laces on your boots. you deemed it pointless as the thoughts would soon resurge since you were getting ready to pick him up, after all. it was a disturbance of your precious time. 
he calls, you answer. he asks you for a favor, but can you refuse?
…maybe. 
but it’s hard to do so when it’s oliver. not because hearing him plead tugged on your heartstrings, but because he’s your friend. you knew what you were getting yourself into by including aiku in your life. those other girls didn't. which is why you knew not to date him. 
you grabbed your keys and shut the door, texting aiku that you were on your way.
it was a 20-minute drive to the house party and the music could be heard down the neighboring street. you scrolled mindlessly through your phone. you checked your social media, but there was nothing new. you checked the weather app– summer always had the worst weather. 
sighing in frustration, you waited in your car another 5 minutes hoping he’d finally see the <come outside> text you’d sent. you didn’t think you’d actually have to go inside.
inside the house, it was loud, not hot– but warm, and humid. the smell of alcohol, weed, and sweat mixed in the air. it was disgusting. you’ll never understand how he enjoys going to these things. 
you tried avoiding any sort of contact with anyone but ended up having to push past people anyway. some random chick had even spilled some of her drink on you. sure, she apologized hastily, but you ignored her and continued looking for aiku.
and there he was.
standing on a table, being the life of the party.
he didn't drink much.
but when he did, he drank like it was his last day on earth. 
you reluctantly walked up to the table, holding on to your keys as tightly as you could, as if they were the one thing grounding you.
“aiku.” you called.
he continued his conversation with the people in front of him. you assumed he didn’t hear you, so you began preparing yourself to call his name a little louder. 
as if on cue, you heard him yell out, “y/n!”
the people around him turned to look at you.
“aiku, get down.” you spoke through lightly clenched teeth. 
you thought this would be a quick and easy ‘let's go!’ and ‘ok!’, but you now knew it wouldn't be. it never had been before, so you don’t know why you’d been expecting any different this time. you needed to stop assuming.
at least he did get down. he walked up to you with a funny expression on his face. “have you been drinking?” he asked.
it was then that you noticed you reeked of alcohol. “no, there was–”
you were cut off by the music suddenly stopping and screams filling the room.
“some bitch called the cops!” a voice yelled.
you took a deep breath. “fuck,” you muttered, “aiku, we have to leave now . you can’t be caught here.” 
if he were to be caught at some stupid party like this, drinking underage, it could ruin his future. 
the both of you looked around the house. an officer stood at the front door calling for backup, as the back exit was crowded with people trying to leave. 
you pulled aiku’s arm, rushing upstairs. you stopped at the first window at the end of the hallway. you opened it. 
“okay. i know this is pretty high, but just…” you trailed off. you don’t know how to use words of encouragement.
“chill. i’m not afraid of heights” he leaned on the wall.
“stop acting so casual! hurry! and i know you aren’t, just don’t be an idiot and fall. you have to be extra careful considering your state.”
“yeah yeah” he climbed out of the window. 
it was slightly quiet. you turned around once you heard footsteps rushing up the stairs, along with the static of a walkie-talkie. 
i can’t believe i’m doing this, you thought as you took a deep breath and quickly turned back around to shut the window. i’m gonna kill him if he fucking falls.
when you turn around again, you’re met with the face of an officer. 
you were sure you heard a thud from outside. you visualized aiku rolling down the roof in continuous thumps, and then landing on the grass with a final, softer thud. 
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you'd imagined going to jail before for many different reasons and you'd be lying if you said it never crossed your mind that you'd have to go to jail because of aiku.
if you could kill him, you would.
in the cop car, you thought of elaborate plans to murder him in the cruelest ways possible. again, not that you actually would. it's aiku.  
and, you know. you had to re-emphasize that in your head just in case this cop happened to be a mind reader and was hearing every thought you had.
you kept looking out of the window. at the moment, it was funny seeing the cop lights flash red and blue and seeing hordes of people in the street run from whatever they were doing, though you were also hoping none of them would get arrested since you didn’t want to spend the car ride seated next to a stranger.
---
you had to spend the night in a little cell and god, you had to pee but there was no way you were going to piss in a place with a free for all view. more than one is a crowd and this was not an orgy.
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community service. court-ordered community service.
you got inside aiku’s car.
just a few days ago, he’d shown up at your door during an ungodly hour of the night, apologizing profoundly over a dozen times until you finally said you forgave him. (you’d already forgiven him the night of the incident, while you were in the jail cell.)
he was driving you to the facility where you were supposed to… do service to your community? you don’t even know what the place is. aiku, out of pure “generosity” (more like guilt), had decided to sign up along with you. 
the first floor was the dressmaking section. it was filled with dressmaker's dummies and naked mannequins. you cast a look at him, already knowing the vulgar jokes he’d make before he even began speaking.
“hey, i didn’t say anything”
“but you thought it.”
the both of you took the elevator to get to floor c, as instructed by the sticky note in your pocket. the smell of burnt food immediately met your nostrils as you stepped out of the elevator.
the entire room was built like a large kitchen, 
you turned to look at aiku, but he’d already been looking at you, equally as confused. 
“you must be the new people!” a man with a chef hat exclaimed once he noticed you and aiku.
---
you were stuck washing dishes, or as aiku liked to call it, “busboy duty.”
at least gloves were given to you.
you died inside a little at the thought of touching dirty dishwater.
the good news, though, is that as soon as you’re done with the dishes, you get to join aiku and the others out in the kitchen, cooking actual food.
the bad news? you weren’t sure if the good news was actually good news because you’re a terrible cook.
---
you were next to aiku, watching him knead the remaining dough. he told you to cut the pork while he focused on getting the dough right. 
he was surprisingly good at cooking.
you know, considering most of the time he’s eating spicy ramen. cup noodles, to be specific.
“if you take a picture, it’ll last longer” he teased.
you scoffed, but you didn’t say anything. you only continued to chop away.
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the past 2 months passed by quicker than you realized and you finally completed your 100 hours of community service.
you were just about to sleep when as if on cue, you received a call. of course, you already knew who it was, and by the time you knew it, you were already out the front door.
---
sometimes it genuinely pisses you off. not just because you’re the one he calls– (and you’re always the one he calls) – but because when he drinks, you’re always the one who has to take care of the mess. and you’d also thought he learned his lesson after last time, but of course he hadn't.
he stumbled into your car, without a word.
you had the radio playing at a low volume, making up for the silence in the car.
“you know, throughout the entirety of these 2 months, i haven’t slept with anyone” he blurted. as if he just had to clarify that. 
“i know, oliver.”
the car was silent for a while until he spoke up again. 
“i’m hungry.”
“great, what do you want me to do about it? i’m dropping you off straight home”
“can we get food?” he asks, “please?”
fine. fine. you answer only in your head.
you stay silent, but he hums happily, knowing you gave in.
---
you stop at the first food truck you see. 
you walked while he followed behind and the both of you waited in line.
once it was your turn, you turned to oliver to ask him what he wanted. 
first, you had expected him to make some sort of move on the lady, but he didn’t– which if you had to admit, weirded you out.
second, usually, he would order, but right now, the only thing you wanted to do was get this over with and go home. 
third, you might as well order something for yourself. 
you turned back to the lady taking the order and said, “two pizza pretzels, and two dr.peppers.”
“alrighty, cash or card?” 
“card,” oliver answered for you while taking out his wallet.
the woman told both to wait by the side. 
“excuse me?” the concession lady called for your attention, “we only have one pizza pretzel left. i’m sorry about that, but is there anything else you’d be interested in getting? or would you like a refund?”
“a refund is fine.”
the lady handed you the drinks and the single pizza pretzel, “have a nice day, the two of you!”
“man, that sucks. here” he extended his hand, offering you the pretzel.
“no, you paid. you can have it”
“but i owe you”
“you don’t”
he did want the pizza pretzel a lot , but he also wanted you to have it. so he did the next best thing. he split the pizza pretzel in half, “okay then still, i want you to have it.”
you happily took the other half of the pretzel, “thanks.”
once inside the car, you changed the radio station. then again. and again.
“you could just connect your phone instead” 
“don’t feel like it.”
you finally stopped at some random classic rock station, having vaguely recognized the song.
you heard a tap, then another beside you, and another above you, and then multiple in all directions. you realize it started to rain. the rain quickly turned into a heavy downpour.
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you were initially going to deny oliver’s request.
but your apartment was pretty far and the rain was supposed to worsen.
he suggested you stay at his place, just in the meantime. 
“just… just until the rain stops” you tell him. 
---
“it’s surprisingly clean in here” you observed out loud.
oliver crashed on the sofa as soon as he stepped inside. “yeah, had to” his voice was muffled by the pillows, “my family visited. birthday stuff. higher flight prices in the summer and stuff.”
“hm.” you took off your boots, shivering slightly, due to the cool air conditioning. 
“you can change if you want. you know where my stuff is.” he yawned.
“ you should change too. you’ll get sick or something.”
you changed first.  you took the first clothes you grabbed, and by the time you were back, he was sitting up on the sofa. he went to his room to change, but he didn’t return.
you knocked on his door, unsure of whether you should open the door without notice or not. 
when he didn’t reply, you slowly pushed the door open, and you found him sleeping soundly in his bed. he was snoring lightly, but you found it (endearing? amusing? you weren’t even sure of the right word yourself.) you quickly snapped a picture, then went back to the living room.
you checked the time on your phone: < 2 am>
it was still raining. not as heavy as before, but still.
you were unsure of whether to go home or not. you stood up and paced around the living room in a circle. you made a beeline to the pantry. it was stacked with spicy ramen cups which didn’t surprise you in the slightest. 
you put water in the cup and microwave it for 3 minutes. to be fair, thinking on an empty stomach wasn’t ideal. you sat on the counter, listening to the tv play in the background. 
*BEEPBEEPBEEP*
you rushed to the microwave, quickly pressing the ‘stop’ button. you’d meant to stop it when there were still a few seconds left, but you ended up forgetting. 
at least oliver was a heavy sleeper.
you skipped through random channels on the tv, yawning, and eventually stopping at one playing some wild kratts episode about snakes.
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you opened your eyes, suddenly sitting up after you remembered where you were. 
you didn’t remember falling asleep– you didn’t even remember being too tired (tired enough to fall asleep.) the tv was off, the cup of noodles was gone, and there was a blanket covering you. 
you took notice of the sticky note placed on the tv remote on the small table in front of you.
you grabbed it, squinting at the terrible handwriting. it read:
“thanks for helping (again). i meant it. i owe you (again). i’ll be at practice by the time you see this, so make sure you lock the door. "
you snickered as you noticed the handwriting getting smaller. he started running out of space because he wrote too big at first. you continued reading:
“p.s. i made you breakfast (even though i was running late) i added a shit ton of chocolate chips, you’re welcome. 
p.p.s. i love you, but don’t eat my ramen again.”
the pancakes were cold, but you ate them with a smile on your face.
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sysmedsaresexist · 3 hours
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I do not mean to sound stupid, but I read your post "dissociation is not solely trauma-based", and I was wondering if you knew of any sources or books about it? I think I don't fully understand what dissociation is. For exemple, no matter how I look at it, I don't understand how meditation could be considered like anything close to dissociation, simply because it's also used as a grounding technique.
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I'm combining two asks here, because I'm going to cover both in one go :) you don't sound stupid.
You've got to start with the understanding that dissociation is a continuum from normal (aka nonpathological) to "abnormal" (I hate that word, but aka pathological). I finally dropped the wild existence of Dr Jamie Marich, clinical trauma specialist and a pro endo, CDD system, who wrote Dissociation Made Simple. Let me quote because the book is actually good.
Yes, dissociation is so hard to understand that she wrote an entire book about the concept.
"The English word dissociation comes from the Latin root dissociātiō, meaning “to sever” or “to separate.” At this point when lecturing, I usually ask my students: What are we severing or separating from when we dissociate? You may take a moment, before reading on, to ask this question of yourself. Try not to think on it too rationally. Listen to your gut-level response...
For the purposes of this opening chapter, let’s focus on the form of separation that every human being can likely relate to —severing or separating from the present moment—especially when the present moment becomes unpleasant, overwhelming, or otherwise painful."
Dissociation is a disconnect from something-- this can be memories, thoughts, emotions, or, in worst cases, reality. The present moment.
Not all meditation is dissociative, but most is. For example, emptiness meditation is about disconnecting from everything in the moment. You are literally fine-tuning your dissociative techniques. This is also true when you're using grounding meditation to disconnect from overwhelming emotions or thoughts to get back into the moment.
There are a variety of tasks that we either develop naturally or learn as a way to achieve some degree of separation (e.g., enough to stay somewhat present but still get some relief, or going further into totally cutting oneself off from in-the-moment presence). Dissociation of this nature is not all or nothing—it generally happens in degrees and can depend upon how much distress you feel in any given context. We can do this by daydreaming, drifting off, zoning out, zoning inward, disengaging eye contact with people, losing focus (especially when driving), or getting a little floaty in many other life circumstances. Some people frame this “floatiness” as similar to hypnotic trance and others feel it is quite distinct. We may even take deliberate steps to enhance the experience of separation. How often have you escaped into a book or a movie, into your phone or computer, or into some activity, because it makes the harshness of dealing with the present moment and the emotions it can elicit somewhat more bearable?
Let me be very clear, if you said yes to this question, this answer does not mean that there is anything wrong with you! All of these can be quite ordinary forms of dissociation that every human being is capable of experiencing.
A really, really good way to understand this concept is actually through maladaptive daydreaming (MADD), a highly addictive form of dissociation.
Indeed for many of us, substances or other behaviors that cause major surges of dopamine (e.g., spending, computer games, sexually acting out) can become the accelerant of dissociation...
Whenever we become accustomed to dissociating, especially as children growing up in complex trauma, our brain becomes bonded or some would even say addicted to that state of escape. Once chemical or other reinforcing behaviors are introduced to us, they can accelerate that already familiar experience and we become further bonded to that behavior.
Daydreaming itself is dissociative. Point blank. It is both the most normal kind of dissociation, and yet the most common maladaptive dissociation.
Daydreaming and journeying into my head’s imaginative scenarios is another series of behaviors that can have both adaptive and maladaptive qualities. As a kid, they kept me safe. As an adult, they are the source of so much of my creative power—yet if I engage them too long, too hard, or too much, I run the risk of getting lost and not being able to attend to what helping professionals might call my activities of daily living (e.g., eating properly, sleeping, taking good care of myself, getting to work, attending to loved ones appropriately and with good boundaries).
Let's cut away from the book really quickly to look at Eli Somer, the guy who came up with MADD.
Maladaptive daydreaming is a dissociative disorder: Supporting evidence and theory.
The only real thing I want to quote is:
Although trauma may be one causal factor, we indicate several other etiological pathways to the development of MD. We discuss associations with related concepts and suggest directions for future research.
And
MD is strongly related to dissociation and seems to rely on an innate tendency for absorptive and imaginative fantasy. Through its rewarding properties, this form of immersive daydreaming becomes abnormal. MD may thus be viewed as a disordered form of dissociative absorption.
While Somer talks about how it can be a behavioral addiction in that paper, I find this is a more succinct description.
Maladaptive Daydreaming: Epidemiological Data on a Newly Identified Syndrome
Maladaptive Daydreaming (MD) is a proposed mental disorder characterized by excessive, compulsive immersion in vivid and complex fantastical daydreamed plots, generating intense emotional involvement, often accompanied by stereotypical movements. This addictive absorption in daydreaming becomes maladaptive as it consumes many hours a day, generates shame or guilt, hinders achievement of short- and long-term goals or tasks, and overall causes clinically significant distress and/or interferes with functioning in social or occupational realms. Maladaptive Daydreamers (MDers) report a strong urge to daydream whenever they can and annoyance whenever they cannot, and, repeated unsuccessful efforts to control, cut back, or stop daydreaming, like other behavioral addictions.
And that's the best way to look at DID and other maladaptive, pathological forms of dissociation. It's a behavioral addiction, an escape that we not only crave, but can no longer live without. Just like you can get addicted to working out and gambling, you can become addicted to severing ties with reality through pleasurable (and in some cases, necessary) forms of escape.
I don't know if this is going to make sense, but I've found looking at dissociation like an upside-down iceberg helps me.
At the top, the widest part, is everyone on the planet, and the basic, general concept of dissociation. Severing from the present moment, be it through your phone, book, daydreaming, meditation, zoning out.
As you go down, and it gets narrower, it becomes more important to put names to specific types and forms of dissociation, and fewer people struggle with these forms. In the middle is a confusing mix of seemingly normal and pathological dissociation. You have mediumship, authors with living characters, OCD (yup), ADHD (shocking, I know), MADD, DPDR, (C)PTSD, people on the edge of forming behavioral addictions.
At the bottom, the smallest point, only pathological dissociation, with a much smaller population experiencing it. DID, OSDD, severe and chronic DPDR, DA.
For people that struggle with dissociation... they fell down a hole and travelled all the way to the bottom of the iceberg. What was once a general, normal, human experience became a very specific problem. Over the years, as they travelled deeper, they used and developed a complex mix of various normal dissociative reactions until it eventually became a named, pathological experience.
I sincerely hope that this helps explain and answers both questions ):
Here's another really interesting paper (from none other than, DUNDUNDUN, Colin Ross).
Maladaptive Daydreaming, Dissociation, and the Dissociative Disorders
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quakinqueer · 2 days
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I did read that post and i did not make me think he fucked up that bad. Can you explain why you think he looks worse the more you see them? Cuz i dont understand how he sounds passive agressive at all. He just sounds blunt and defensive.
Hiya. His first two replies were the most outwardly blunt and defensive, as you said. It's his last reply that people took as more passive aggressive. Bringing up follower count, and that op hadn't deleted the post, basically implying that op had bad intentions (or atleast that's how most people took it) without directly saying so, when op had done nothing to indicate such bad intentions. Either way all his actions were definitely rash but not irredeemable.
More under the cut. Not directed at you asker but more my general thoughts at the moment.
Honestly this has just been a wildly polarizing emotional roller coaster. Everytime I see people trying to defend him and demonizing zayna in the process, it makes me incredibly upset as someone who watched the entire interaction go down and had zaynas back beginning to end (and still do), and frankly just makes me disappointed to see people defending this priveliged public figure over a palistinian fan with family in Palestine.
But at the same time, everytime I see someone being extra critical of damien and acting as though he's done something absolutely unforgivable, my inner "protective stan" starts to rear its ugly head. Which I honestly kind of hate.
I'm exhausted. I find it extremely concerning how much this has genuinely impacted my real life and the ease with which I'm able to go about my day. But I suppose that sort of unhealthy attachment is for me to examine on my own time.
All I want is for damien to address things, and hopefully do it well. Until then, I'm gonna need everyone to stop jumping to his defense claiming that he acted perfectly reasonable and that zayna was "harassing and pressuring him" (seriously laughable as someone who watched the interaction), and to for the love of God stop demonizing zayna, the original op. But also to stop treating damien like he's this monster whose career can never recover (this is mostly aimed at twt). He acted incredibly stupid and immature and impulsive, but if he just apologizes properly, then it could turn out okay.
Stop trying to turn this into some war over damien's honor. He messed up, but he can fix it if he just goes about it the right way. That's all. (again, not really at you asker)
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dr-spencer-reidd · 2 days
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Dr. Reid you have a wife?? You’re holding out on us - who is it?? Ramble about the story of how you two got together!
Yes, sorry for holding out on you guys! I have a wife. Her name is Maya. I’m not gonna share too many personal details about her, but she’s been part of the BAU for the past couple years. We met way before she joined however; considering we both went to MIT. As you can expect, I didn’t talk to her, at least not for the first couple months of admiring her. She was always talking, I noticed, sourriunded hy people, no matter where she went. I was too afraid to approach her because I thought to myself “she’s popular, people laugh and bend towards her like she’s a ray of sun. Who am I to try and interfere with that?” It wasn’t until we were paired together for a philosophy lecture that I realized the truth about her. She was utterly, completely, and consumingly real. Nothing that came out of her mouth wasn’t real. That’s why she didn’t speak to me at first. We were meant to discuss something or other in class, and in truth, she was so captivating I don’t even care to recall what it was. She refused to talk to me. Her face was red, her pulse fast, and she was fidgeting. Something I’d seen her do, but never up close. I guess I was sort of staring at her. Neither of us spoke. For that whole half and hour, we just sat next to each other. The first words she said to me where shortly after that. She turned to me, her brown eyes nearly piercing my soul, and stuck out her hand to shake. “Maya. That’s my name. You are Spencer Reid, right?” I was shocked she knew my name, and it showed. She stuttered “I’m not a stalker, don’t worry. You’re just hard to forget. I guess I’m sort of a fangirl.” She chuckled then, and her laugh was contagious. I laughed softly, my eyes sparkling with wonder. I didn’t understand who she was, why I was so enamored with her, or why in the world she wanted to speak to me. It was after a couple moments I realized her hand was still out. “The number of pathogens transferred during handshakes is staggering-“ I began, but she cut my off, taking my shaking hand in hers. “I know, but it’s how I was raised” she smiled at my weak hand shake, my mouth slightly agape. “And I don’t mind transferring some pathogens to you Mr. Reid.” She smiled, and I knew then, she was different. It sounds so stupid, because it’s just like every other love story, not unique, a cliche even. But the thing is, I would’ve brang down every single star and showed her how they resembled the freckles on her face, gone back in time so I could rewrite every love song with her name, and taken back every single kiss and I live you before her, because I knew in that moment I could never stop myslef from falling in love with her.
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anonzentimes · 3 days
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I'm sorry this is a stupid question, but I'm a bit confused. What do you think Nagito's relationship with the other ultimates is like? Does he genuinely care about them? Or he just see them as talented people who can bring great hope and nothing more?
(I think it's interesting that it was shown in Danganronpa 2.5 that in Nagito's perfect world, he was friends with Kazuichi and Fuyuhiko. I've seen so many people think that he didn't care about the other ultimates beyond their talents but I like to believe that he at least cared a little)
Wonderful question, I'd be happy to help with my interpretation!
Basically, the way I like to describe it is by separating his feelings by calling them warped love and genuine love. His warped love is more about status. Nagito doesn't expect reciprocation with this love because he wants to help from the side lines. He wants to be a stepping stone for the ultimates since he's not capable enough in the (false) hierarchy he's accepted to create such great hope. This is what he talks about a lot in Chapter 2!
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For his genuine love, well it's what it sounds like, it is genuine love. But despite this fact he doesn't expect reciprocation for this either because of his self esteem and fear of his bad luck going after them if he gets too close. For genuine love he really does care a lot about the person more personally beyond just status even if he doesn't acknowledge it or even notice it, the only real time he understands is when Hajime's status is no longer there. He's so stuck in his absolute beliefs that when he's burdened with the fact he cares about Hajime when his status is gone and he is a despair inducing TERRORIST he is beyond conflicted at the fact he still loves and cares about him. His absolute beliefs override his genuine love and he doesn't quite understand his genuine love as much, Anything is okay if it's for the sake of Hope after all.
In Danganronpa 3 I believe Nagito only loves everyone with warped love at First. Through spending so much time with them he genuinely cares for his classmates quite a lot. It's sort of a mix of warped and genuine love there. His classmates know about him more beyond the surface from spending time together and him being there as well, it's to different degrees but for the most part the class just thinks he's a freak and doesn't like him much. Nagito doesn't mind since both of his loves, and general worldview/self esteem, allows him to think it's just because he's factually garbage and doesn't deserve reciprocation. Nagito distances himself with the class because of all of these things but genuinely does care about them personally and about their status, he's only shown full reciprocation by Chisa and only the slightest bit by Chiaki.
In Danganronpa 2 everyone doesn't know each other as well and it's mostly first impressions and preferences, Nagito mostly cares about status here since he doesn't know them as personally and in the prologue nobody knows enough about Nagito to form a full opinion on him. Nagito's meltdowns, coping mechanisms, worldview, and what not obviously lead them to dislike or even hate him when they're on display in Chapter 1 and onwards. They don't really care about him much, again to ranging degrees, but it's worse this time since he is quite literally at his worst mentally in the game and his moral grayness, luck cycle, and how he appears when hope is relevant serves as something dangerous for them to fear. Everyone hates him in the killing game and he has warped love for the ultimates in Danganronpa 2, he may have preferences but he doesn't really have much genuine love for them yet.
However, there is an exception to this. An exception big enough that he defies his normal behaviors of distancing himself from the Ultimates and wants their attention and time, an exception that is the biggest obvious display of his genuine love that we have, Hajime Hinata.
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Nagito feels a connection with Hajime when they first meet and from a preference standpoint really likes and connects with him, this quickly shifts into genuine love. Nagito doesn't distance himself from Hajime he actively tries to get his attention, make a good impression, help him, and he playfully teases him. Nagito cares about Hajime alongside inherently status and that status allows his genuine love to easily happen. I said it earlier, but Nagito is beyond conflicted at the fact he still loves and cares about Hajime when he knows he's a terrorist. He's fond enough of Hajime that he kind of acts irrationally compared to what he usually does, and I think that is genuinely so sweet. There isn't anything specific he just feels a relatable connection without his worldview being able to get in the way of genuine love forming for him. Nagito cares and loves Hajime, his absolute beliefs that he uses to function are still more powerful though.
In Danganronpa 2.5 I think the reason he's friends with Kazuichi and Fuyuhiko is from preferences and genuine love since the simulation is using his school life memories! :)
In conclusion, it kind of depends on circumstance? Nagito genuinely loves his classmates from knowing them so long alongside their status, when he doesn't know them as well there isn't as much genuine love yet but there are preferences on the people themselves paired with the warped love about status. The exception is that he has such interest in Hajime from the very start had such a strong preference that he forms genuine love quickly.
Hopefully that makes sense! Thank you for your ask, if there's anything that didn't answer your question fully let me know <3
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sapphic-agent · 3 months
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The ATLA Renaissance was actually so unhinged.
What do you mean Zutara's a colonizer ship and Zukka somehow isn't? What do you mean Katara's the worst member of the Gaang? What do you mean Aang was right in TSR? What do you mean Sokka's the most developed character??
I, for one, do not miss this era of the fandom
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shmaroace · 1 year
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if people keep insisting that aromanticism and asexuality are phases then i'll start telling them that being allo is a phase.
oh, you feel romantic and sexual attraction? don't worry, you'll grow out of it.
you're dating someone? you'll probably change your mind later!
you're too young to know that you feel attraction, wait a few years!
you're just faking attraction for attention, obviously!
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transzilla · 3 months
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On gender like ive always felt a little envious of trans men who transition and they find contentment in just being male, like their ambition kinda stops there like yeah I'm just some guy i love twitch streaming and jacking off. Like I'm a guy, time to stop thinking abt it. Me I'm never gonna be satisfied. like being male as default I'm still going to be a little uncomfortable and dysphoric, like I need my masculinity to be a presence, not an absence, less like a dad and more like a demon. A dark presence that needs to be appeased and endlessly exploits desire and is constantly in pursuit, either of a discernable target or in an aimless frantic search for any scent that might correct its path. People afraid to look at me like i'm the devil.
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sevicia · 6 months
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I will not lie, I kinda hate the "cozy horror" subgenre. like just the idea of it annoys me and I hate to sound like an elementary school bully but if you need your horror to be "cozy" then you're a weenie and maybe horror just isn't for you
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