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estapa-edwards · 2 months

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HIDDEN FEELINGS - M. ESTAPA

paring: Mark Estapa x fem! reader

word count: 3.1k

requested? yes - mark falling for ethan’s twin sister, and never doing anything out of respect but ethan notices his heart eyes and tells him to go for it

warnings: use of y/n. multiple pov

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The rink is where I feel most alive. The smooth glide of my skates over the ice, the echo of the puck against the boards, the camaraderie of my teammates—hockey is more than a game to me, it’s a way of life. Playing for the University of Michigan has always been a dream, and now, here I am, living it.

I'm the twin sister of Ethan Edwards. Yes, that Ethan Edwards who's a standout player on the University of Michigan hockey team, right alongside Mark Estapa. Growing up, Ethan and I were inseparable. Hockey was our mutual love, and even though we both made it to the university level, we ended up on different teams. Ethan plays as a defenseman, known for his strength and reliability, while I'm a forward, valued for my speed and strategy.

Mark Estapa, on the other hand, is a force to be reckoned with on the ice. As a forward like me, he's got an uncanny ability to read the game, find the gaps in the defense, and score those crucial goals. He’s a great player, and over the seasons, I’ve come to respect and admire his skills.

Our growing friendship, however, didn’t happen overnight. Our two teams would occasionally practice together, and it was during these joint sessions that I began to notice Mark's friendly and approachable nature. We'd find ourselves paired up during drills or chatting during water breaks.

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One afternoon, after a particularly intense drill, Mark and I found ourselves catching our breaths on the bench.

“You handled that drill pretty well, Y/N,” Mark said, flashing me a genuine smile.

“Thanks, Mark. You weren’t too bad yourself,” I replied, matching his smile.

From there, our conversations became longer and more meaningful. One day, as we were stretching before practice, Mark turned to me with a curious expression.

“So, Y/N, what made you choose Michigan?” he asked, genuinely interested.

“I guess it was a combination of things,” I answered, thinking back to my decision. “The coaching staff here is amazing, and the program has a great reputation. Plus, Ethan being here didn’t hurt,” I added with a playful grin.

Mark chuckled. “I can see how having family around could be a bonus. I chose Michigan for similar reasons. The team has a great dynamic, and the opportunities for growth both as a player and a student are unparalleled.”

Our conversations didn’t just revolve around hockey; we talked about our classes, our hobbies, and our future goals. It was during one of these post-practice chats that Mark opened up about his passion for photography.

“I’ve always loved taking pictures,” he said, showing me some of his recent shots on his phone. “It’s a way for me to capture moments and emotions that words can’t express.”

I was impressed by his talent and passion. “These are amazing, Mark. You have a real eye for it.”

“Thanks, Y/N. It’s something I hope to pursue more seriously someday,” he said, looking slightly vulnerable.

As the weeks went by, our conversations continued to deepen. We shared stories about our families, our dreams, and even our fears. I found myself looking forward to our practice sessions not just for the hockey but also for the chance to spend time with Mark.

We'd find ourselves paired up during drills or chatting during water breaks. Our teammates began to notice our growing camaraderie, and it wasn’t uncommon for them to tease us about our lengthy conversations.

“You two should just start your own podcast,” Ethan joked one day as he walked past us, a smirk on his face.

Despite the teasing, Mark and I cherished our newfound friendship. Our long conversations became the highlight of my day, and I found myself feeling more and more connected to him with each passing practice.

But lately, it's not just his skills on the ice that have caught my attention.

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Growing up as a twin, you learn the importance of boundaries and loyalty early on. Ethan and I shared everything—our toys, our secrets, our dreams. So, when I first joined the University of Michigan's hockey team and met Mark Estapa, I couldn’t help but notice his attractiveness. His tall stature, his athletic build, and that charming smile were hard to ignore. But I also knew he was Ethan’s teammate, and I would never do anything to jeopardize their friendship or our family bond.

During those early practices, I would steal glances at Mark, admiring his skill and athleticism on the ice. His dedication and passion for the game were evident, and it only added to his appeal. But each time I felt a flutter in my stomach or caught myself daydreaming about him, I would quickly push those feelings aside, reminding myself of the unspoken rule: teammates were off-limits.

As our teams began to practice together more frequently, Mark and I started to interact more. Our conversations were light-hearted and filled with laughter, but underneath it all, there was an undeniable chemistry brewing. I found myself drawn to him not just because of his looks but also because of his personality. He was kind, thoughtful, and genuinely interested in getting to know me.

Despite these growing feelings, I was determined to keep my emotions in check. I didn’t want to create any awkwardness or tension within the team, especially given Ethan’s close friendship with Mark.

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MARKS POV

The first time Y/n Edwards and I really talked was during one of those joint practices. I remember it well— we were both catching our breath on the bench after a tough drill. I looked over at Y/N, and for the first time, I saw her not just as Ethan's twin sister but as Y/N Edwards, an incredible player in her own right.

“You handled that drill pretty well, Y/N,” I said, trying to initiate a conversation.

“Thanks, Mark. You weren’t too bad yourself,” she replied, matching my smile.

In that moment, something shifted. Her smile, her wit, the way she talked about hockey—it all captivated me. She was more than just a talented player; she was someone I wanted to get to know on a deeper level.

As we continued to chat, our conversation flowed effortlessly. We talked about everything from our reasons for choosing Michigan to our hobbies and interests outside of hockey. I was genuinely intrigued by her, and I found myself wanting to learn more about the person behind the player.

But as much as I was drawn to Y/N, I knew I had to tread carefully. She was Ethan's sister, and I didn't want to overstep any boundaries or make things awkward within the team. So, I tried to keep our interactions friendly and professional, all while secretly hoping for more.

The more I got to know Y/N, the harder it became to ignore my growing feelings for her. Her intelligence, her passion for the game, and her kind-hearted nature made her irresistibly attractive to me. But I also knew that acting on my feelings could complicate things, and I didn't want to risk our friendship or create any tension within the team.

Despite these internal struggles, I couldn’t deny the connection I felt with Y/N. Each conversation, each laugh, each shared moment only deepened my admiration and affection for her. I found myself looking forward to our joint practices not just for the hockey but also for the chance to spend time with her.

But lately, it's not just her skills on the ice that have caught my attention.

During one of our joint practices, we were waiting for our turn to jump onto the ice for the next drill. Y/N was leaning against the boards, lacing up her skates, completely engrossed in her task. The afternoon light streamed through the windows, casting a soft glow on her face and highlighting the golden undertones in her hair.

I couldn’t help but stare.

She looked up, catching my gaze, and flashed me a quick smile before returning her attention to her skates. My heart skipped a beat, and I quickly looked away, hoping she hadn’t noticed my lingering gaze.

As we took to the ice for the next drill, I found myself distracted, my thoughts consumed by the simple beauty of that moment. Y/N's natural grace and poise, even in something as mundane as lacing up her skates, left me in awe.

I knew I was treading dangerous waters, but in that moment, I couldn’t help but be captivated by her beauty. She was more than just a talented hockey player; she was a vision of grace and elegance that I found myself drawn to, unable to look away.

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Y/N POV

I found myself watching Mark as he talked with some of our teammates. He was animated, gesturing with his hands and laughing at something someone had said. I was captivated by his energy and charisma, and for a moment, I lost myself in the way the sunlight caught the highlights in his hair and how his eyes sparkled with genuine happiness.

Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t notice Ethan approaching until he spoke, "You okay, Y/N? You seem a little distracted."

Startled, I quickly looked away from Mark, feeling my cheeks flush with embarrassment. "Oh, uh, yeah, I'm fine," I stammered, trying to regain my composure.

Ethan gave me a knowing smile but didn’t press further. "Alright, just making sure," he said, patting me gently on the shoulder before heading back to the group.

Relieved that Ethan hadn’t called me out on my obvious distraction, I took a deep breath and refocused on the practice. But even as I skated back onto the ice, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Mark was becoming more than just a teammate to me.

One evening, I found myself at Ethan's apartment, sprawled out on the couch with a bowl of popcorn, ready to watch a movie. Ethan had invited some of his teammates over, including Mark, to hang out and relax after a grueling week of practice and games.

As I settled into the comfortable cushions, Mark walked into the living room, a casual smile on his face. He greeted everyone warmly before taking a seat on the armchair opposite the couch. Our eyes met briefly, and a subtle spark passed between us, but we both quickly looked away, maintaining a friendly distance in front of Ethan and the others.

As the movie started to play, Ethan and Mark began discussing a recent game, dissecting plays and strategies with the kind of intensity only true hockey enthusiasts possess. I found myself drawn into the conversation, sharing my own insights and opinions, and soon, Mark and I were engaged in our own little world of hockey talk, much to Ethan's amusement.

Throughout the evening, I couldn't help but steal glances at Mark, admiring his easygoing demeanor and genuine interest in our conversation. His laughter was infectious, and I found myself laughing along with him, feeling a connection that went beyond our shared love for hockey.

Despite the casual setting and the presence of Ethan and the others, I couldn’t ignore the growing tension between Mark and me. It was as if we were dancing around the undeniable chemistry that had been building between us, both of us aware of the line we were toeing but unwilling to cross it in front of Ethan and our teammates.

As the evening wore on and the movie came to an end, I realized that my feelings for Mark were becoming harder to ignore. He wasn’t just a teammate or Ethan’s friend; he was someone I genuinely cared about, and I found myself looking forward to the next opportunity to spend time with him, both on and off the ice.

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ETHANS POV

As the evening unfolded in my apartment, I couldn't help but notice the subtle undercurrents between Mark and Y/N. From my vantage point on the couch, I could see the way they exchanged glances when they thought no one was looking, the way their laughter seemed to echo in sync, and the way they both seemed completely engrossed in their own world, despite the presence of our teammates.

At first, I brushed it off as mere camaraderie—after all, they were both passionate about hockey and had been spending a lot of time together at practices. But as the evening wore on, I began to sense something more—a genuine connection that went beyond friendship.

I glanced over at Y/N, who was laughing at something Mark had said, her eyes sparkling with amusement. Then I looked at Mark, who was smiling back at her, his eyes softening in a way I had never seen before. It was clear that there was something special between them, something that went beyond the confines of the rink and our hockey team.

As Y/N and Mark continued to talk and laugh together, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of surprise and curiosity. Mark was my teammate and one of my closest friends, and Y/N was my twin sister. The thought of them being more than just friends was unexpected, but the more I observed their interactions, the more it made sense.

Despite my initial reservations, I couldn’t deny the connection between them. They seemed to complement each other in a way that was both surprising and endearing. And as much as it caught me off guard, I found myself rooting for them, hoping that they would find happiness together, both on and off the ice.

As the evening came to an end and everyone started to say their goodbyes, I pulled Mark aside for a moment.

"Hey, man, are you and Y/N...you know, getting close?" I asked cautiously, not wanting to overstep any boundaries.

Mark looked slightly taken aback but then smiled, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. "Yeah, I think we are," he said, his voice filled with genuine warmth.

I smiled back, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. "Well, as long as you're both happy, that's all that matters," I replied,

"Are you serious? I was so scared to tell you that I think I'm falling for her." Mark said.

I looked at Mark, surprised by his honesty and vulnerability. His eyes were sincere, and I could see the genuine concern in them.

"Mark, I had no idea you felt that way," I said, feeling a pang of guilt for not noticing his hesitation earlier. "I'm sorry for putting you on the spot like that."

Mark chuckled softly, his smile returning but with a slightly nervous edge. "It's okay, Ethan. I guess I've just been overthinking things. I really care about Y/N, and I didn't want to mess things up, especially since we're teammates and she's your sister."

I clapped Mark on the shoulder, offering him a reassuring smile. "Look, as surprising as it is, I'm actually really happy for you two. Y/N deserves someone who genuinely cares about her, and I can see that you do. Just promise me you'll treat her right, okay?"

Mark nodded earnestly, his eyes shining with gratitude. "I promise, Ethan. She means a lot to me, and I want to do right by her."

Feeling reassured, I smiled at Mark, grateful for his honesty and commitment to Y/N. "Alright then, I trust you. Just remember, if you ever hurt her, you'll have to answer to me," I added with a playful smirk.

Mark laughed, his tension finally breaking. "Understood, Captain."

As we rejoined the others to say our final goodbyes, I couldn't help but feel a sense of relief and excitement. Despite the unexpected turn of events, I was genuinely happy for Y/N and Mark. They had found something special in each other, and as their friend and brother, I couldn't wait to see where their relationship would lead.

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Y/N POV

As we approached my apartment building, the atmosphere between Mark and me had shifted subtly. There was a sense of anticipation, a tangible connection that seemed to be growing stronger with each step we took. When we reached the entrance, Mark stopped and turned to face me, his blue eyes reflecting a mix of excitement and vulnerability.

"Y/N, there's something I need to tell you," he began, his voice slightly shaky but sincere. "Earlier, when Ethan asked me if we were getting close, I told him that I think I'm falling for you."

I felt my heart leap in my chest, a rush of emotions surging through me. His confession was unexpected but also exhilarating, confirming the feelings I had been trying to suppress.

"Mark," I started, searching for the right words to express the whirlwind of emotions I was feeling. "I'm not sure how to say this, but... I think I'm falling for you too."

The moment the words left my lips, a wide smile spread across Mark's face, his eyes lighting up with joy and relief.

"Really?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine happiness.

I nodded, feeling a warm blush spread across my cheeks. "Yes, really. I've been trying to ignore my feelings, but the truth is, I've been falling for you too, Mark."

A look of pure happiness washed over Mark's face, and without hesitation, he stepped closer, cupping my face gently with his hands. "Y/N, I'm so glad to hear that," he whispered, his eyes locked onto mine.

Feeling emboldened by our mutual confession, I leaned in, closing the distance between us, and our lips met in a soft, sweet kiss. It was a simple yet powerful affirmation of the connection we had both been feeling but had been too afraid to acknowledge until now.

As we pulled apart, our faces flushed and smiles wide, Mark looked into my eyes, his gaze filled with warmth and affection.

"Do you wanna come in?" I asked, my voice soft and inviting, the words coming out almost on their own accord, as if guided by the newfound courage and excitement that bubbled within me.

Mark's eyes sparkled with anticipation, but he hesitated for a moment, wanting to be respectful of the situation and our budding relationship.

"Are you sure?" he asked gently, his voice tinged with a mix of excitement and caution.

I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest. "Yes, I'm sure," I replied, feeling a surge of boldness.

A broad smile spread across Mark's face, his eyes shining with happiness and relief. "I'd love to," he said, his voice filled with genuine warmth and excitement.

Taking my hand in his, Mark followed me into the building, our fingers intertwined as we headed up to my apartment.

#mark estapa #mark estapa imagine #mark estapa x reader #umich wolverines #umich hockey #umich boys

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emelinstriker · 1 year

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Macaque ♡ Bath Time

First of all, this is all still SFW, but would be leading into NSFW with the ending implication. So this still counts as Fluff. Also I personally would call him Mac-Mac, so that shall now be implemented into my fics.

That being said...

CW: slight suggestive vibe, nudity, mild gore(? had to hold back a lot from making it full on detailed descriptions), maybe faint yandere behavior if you squint

♡ ~ Fluff ~ ♡

"I've told you before. Hands off my territory... No one to blame but yourself."

The dark-furred simian dropped the demon's corpse onto the pavement with a dark grin. It's been a while since he really got to do this to another demon. He's been holding back his true strength ever since he met you, in hopes of not scaring you off... Well, at least he didn't usually attack demons with you around. That didn't mean he would kill them even when you weren't present.

However... this particular demon crossed the line. Not only did this demon return to the apartment complex, the Six-Eared Macaque's territory, despite having been warned... But this demon also threatened to kill him, as well as you and your neighbors right after.

Little did he know that your husband was a lot more capable than any other ordinary demon this guy had ever faced before, by far. Despite his size compared to the intruder, he could easily fold him.

And of course, Macaque didn't take this random demon's threats lightly. Killing off a threat to you and your home once in a while wouldn't be so bad, no? Surely a little bit of self-defense in the name of your safety should be fine.

So he did what he seemed most fit. Getting rid of the pest that spoke of those threats. After all, endangering you in any way, shape or form was off-limits. Anyone attempting to break this one simple rule had to deal with the consequences and would be punished by your loving husband...

Violence may not always be the answer, but life is multiple choice.

And death was just one of the options.

A quite merciful one at that.

Macaque glanced down at the blood that now stained not only his clothes, but his fur too. He rolled his eyes, grumbling about needing to take a bath. After all, he wouldn't want his beloved to be stained by another demon's blood when he hugged them. And thus, he disposed of the body by engulfing it in a shadow portal. He was torn between letting it fall into lava or the ocean, but he decided that lava would be the quickest solution. If the corpse somehow managed to not be gone by the time the Demon Bull Family saw something floating on the surface of one of their lava pits, then they could simply see it as a nice aesthetic gift to their home.

He used another shadow portal to return to your shared apartment's living room. Everything was quiet, so much so that he had no problems hearing all your neighbors without even trying, which the shadow monkey already anticipated. Usually it was him that would come home later than you, but not today since his plays were scheduled for only half of the week. And it was a good thing he had the day off. Who knows what would've happened if you came home first and encountered the demon he got rid of instead!

After making his way past your bedroom door, he let a shadow clone enter and pick some fresh clothes for him. Meanwhile, he prepared his bath. The dark-furred simian noticed the lack of a shampoo bottle near the bathtub, so he ended up picking the plum-scented shampoo from the cabinet beneath the sink. Macaque was considering using body wash as well, but decided against it as most of what the blood got on was pure fur anyway. His shadow clone then walked in with fresh clothes, placing them on the closed toilet seat before vanishing back into his shadow.

However, before he could undress, his ears caught the sound of keys clashing by the front door. He smiled to himself at the implication- Only you had keys to the apartment since he didn't need keys to enter. And his assumption was indeed correct.

"Mac-Mac, I'm home!" Your lovely voiced called out from down the hallway as you entered.

"Heya, sugarplum! I'll be right with you, just gonna take a bath first!" He called back through he closed door. It did take a while until the tub was actually filled with warm water, so in the meantime he inspected his nude, scarred form in the mirror. He sighed to himself as he tried getting some blood off manually with his fingers, but to no avail. It would be difficult to clean up some spots, for sure. Especially those splatters that ended up on his back...

Another thing he did while waiting for the bathtub to fill up was to listen in on what you were doing. From what he could still hear past the noises coming from the faucet and your neighbors, apparently you were eating dinner. Presumably leftovers from the fridge as he did not recall you cooking anything earlier that day.

Once the tub was full, he turned off the faucet, then climbed inside and began to clean himself up. Macaque started off by washing all his fur on and around his head, at least that was easy to do. There wasn't even all that much blood stuck in there in the first place... Well, except for maybe the front.

He was so busy rubbing the blood off his arms that he didn't hear you walking towards the bathroom. At least until you lightly knocked on the door, pulling him back into reality.

"May I come in? I need a dry towel for the kitchen", you asked. Your husband told you that you may enter, so you did.

It was far from the first time you saw him without clothes, so it wasn't exactly awkward when you came in and picked one of the thinner towels. After choosing a fitting one, your eyes glanced over at the dark-furred simian. Honestly, he was already handsome by default. Him without a shirt was even better. But his wet, shiny fur glistening in the light of the bathroom made him look a lot more appealing on top of it all.

Suddenly, his own gaze landed on you. He seemed a bit confused, but this little bit of confusion was quickly wiped away as his smug grin took over.

Shit. He probably heard your heartbeat increase... Curse his intense hearing!

"What's the matter, sugarplum? Like what you see~?"

You were about to respond in a flustered, passive aggressive manner... Until you noticed the amount of red that was still very much present on his fur. You paused for a second before becoming concerned. "What happened? Did you get into a fight? Is that your blood?!" You asked frantically.

Macaque's grin left just as quickly as it came. "No, no! Well... I mean yes, I did get into a fight. B- But this isn't my blood!" That statement only eased your concerns a bit. You simply stood there in thought with the folded towel in hand... Until he seemed to try wash off some blood his back, but to no avail.

"Do you need help getting it off?" You asked as you slowly put the towel onto the sink.

He raised an eyebrow at you before waving his hand dismissively. "I wouldn't mind the company."

You hummed in amusement as you made your way over to the bathtub, getting onto your knees next to it. Macaque handed you the bottle of shampoo and you put a portion of it onto your hand, putting the bottle next to you on the ground. You then scooped up a bit of water with your other hand and mixed both liquids together. Afterwards your hands were free to roam around your husband's back, trying to get rid of the red colors and the faint stench...

Honestly, you couldn't tell if it was just the blood because his fur seemed to stink on its own.

Suddenly, the dark-furred simian started to purr as you started gently cleaning blood around his tail. You actually had a somewhat hard time cleaning it... Macaque's joy over you handling his tail so gently only made it move around more. That in of itself wouldn't have been much of a problem, but we have to take his extra strength into consideration. He may be holding back by a lot, but his tail was still able to casually pick you up if he wanted to. So trying to keep it still enough to properly get rid of stains was a challenge.

You grinned at his tail's excitement, "Do you want me to wash the rest of your body too or what?"

The shadow monkey halted before fake-thinking with a hum. "Only if you get in here with me."

You gave him a blank look for a few seconds. Macaque thought this suggestion was a bit too much for you today. You barely got off work after all. Thus he was about to apologize... until he heard you take off your own clothes.

He paused as his tail's tip flicked back above the water in anticipation. His head whipped to the side to see you put your clothes onto his own pile or dirty clothes. With your body now in the nude, you approached the bathtub before demanding him to scoot over so you could sit behind him. You then positioned yourself so he was sitting between your legs, practically having been captured so he could never escape. (He wouldn't have minded to be honest.)

And without another word, you proceeded to continue washing him. Mainly his back and sides due to his fur's locations, but you occasionally would brush over part of his chest. Most of his fur in the back wasn't even bloody, but it was still nice to help clean him. At one point his tail wrapped around your waist as he leaned back into your hold, purring while slightly rubbing himself against you. You cooed at him being adorable and tried countering him by pushing your body firmly against his, trying to reach at least part of his legs better.

However, the moment you got to his hips towards his abdomen, he chuckled. "Not low enough, sugarplum~"

You rolled your eyes at his words with a flustered smile, "Mac-Mac, you can clean that area yourself. I can barely even clean your legs from here." He pouted as his head turned to face you, just so you could see his disappointment. You grinned at him in return.

"Do I at least get a reward for cleaning up the rest myself?" He asked with a knowing smirk as his gaze lowered towards your body below the water. That cheeky little bastard... You raised an eyebrow at the monkey's suggestion. The fact that his tail seemed to slowly make its way towards your thigh didn't help the situation.

You sighed in defeat as you nuzzled into your husband's furry back. "Okay fine. But, only one round, got it? I still have work tomorrow, and you know how much our stamina differs."

Macaque chuckled, using his hands to position your arms around his torso, your hands against his chest. "I can't promise anything, sugarplum~" He swiftly turned around more until he was able to give you a quick kiss on the lips, his hands holding your head for better access. "I love you."

In return, you leaned in as well for a kiss that would last a little longer. "I love you too..."

"Well, guess I better get to cleaning now, just so we have more time for my reward~", he said in his low voice as he pulled away. It didn't take long for Macaque to completely clean himself, especially with this new motivation literally sitting behind him with a flushed, yet amused look.

Maybe you should offer him this type of reward for doing house chores, just to motivate him into actually doing those more often.

> Masterlist <

#lmk x reader #macaque x reader #six eared macaque #lego monkie kid #lmk macaque #fluff #bath #suggestive #only a bit tho #i personally dont think it counts rly into gore due to how i removed all the actual descriptions tbh

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what-even-is-thiss · 2 years

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Changing people's minds on major things is actually a very long and difficult process for both parties. I didn't actually believe that pedestrian-centric city design would be better for people that drive cars until I spent almost a year living without a car and watched hours of youtube videos explaining the issue to me. Turns out that traffic actually does go down and driving does become more pleasant if you make it harder to drive a car and easier to walk. I just straight-up refused to believe that for years. Because people just talked about it like it was obvious. But it wasn't. Because I had spent my whole life in a car-centric city going around in a car and also I was an English major in college who did not study urban planning. You can't expect me to change my entire mindset around transportation all at once. I did reach a eureka moment like two weeks ago but that was after like three years of getting exposed to these ideas periodically and living without a car for 11 months.

And yeah this post is about my big dumb animal brain accepting the science behind narrow roads and the evils of certain types of zoning laws, but it's also about stuff in general. If you don't know why someone isn't changing their mind on something, it's probably because the information they're getting hasn't reached a critical mass in their monkey brain yet. Whenever you hear stories about people changing their minds on things or leaving a certain ideology the story never goes "A person on the internet did a slam dunk on me and then I changed my mind."

It's usually a long process that happens over the course of months or years. Seeds planted here and there that coalesce eventually into a new thought or ideology over the course of years or snap together or send someone down a new path after a certain event. Same with me about pedestrian-centric cities. For me the tipping point was finding this video, which isn't necessarily super special or the best and the guy who runs the channel, in my opinion, isn't the most qualified or the most sympathetic towards every city in every situation, but it was the feather that tipped the scales in my brain to "Oh, wait. Maybe everything I thought I knew about how cities work is wrong actually." But that video alone didn't change my mind. With the amount of stuff and people that have gradually and gently been giving me information over the past couple years, something else was bound to eventually change my mind.

People on Tumblr yelling about abolishing the car, if anything, slowed down me changing my mind. Every time I saw a person saying that driving cars is stupid and that cars are bad I took a step back into my old way of thinking in defense. Because I grew up only ever using a car to get around. Rhetoric like that felt like a direct attack on my family, who I know to be loving people who care about other human beings and who drive cars literally everywhere.

And you might say, posts and videos like that aren't actually an attack on people that drive or have to drive. Okay then. Why are they phrased like that? Because that makes you feel good? Because you're angry? Alright, your anger at how it's currently impossible to get around if you don't own a car and how people who don't actually want to drive are being forced to drive is reasonable. And now I understand why it exists. I'm kind of angry too now that I get how this stuff works. However, is calling the people you're trying to convince stupid to their face and immediately bombarding them with your most radical ideas that might be completely detached from their reality and how they understand the world really the most productive way to channel your anger?

What about a guy with a knee problem that lives in rural Appalachia? Do you think he is gonna be convinced by your angry rants about bike lanes? No. He lives on a mountain that he can't climb or bike up because he's disabled and has only ever known getting around in a car. What about a person who overheats easily living in a suburb in the middle of the desert? Do you think she is inspired by your green lush pictures of trolleys running through parks in The Netherlands? No. If she leaves her house for too long without ice water she could literally die and you're going on about getting rid of, in her mind, the only thing that lets her go to the grocery store and not faint.

And again, this post is about my inability to comprehend walkable cities, but it's also about everything else you might ever want to convince someone of. The way you talk about things with your in-group that knows exactly what you're talking about should not be the same way you talk about that thing with people that you're genuinely trying to convince of something.

#roman said a thing #rant #ok to reblog

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allmyloveandyours · 10 months

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Bullying, Harassment, and Misunderstanding on Astro Tumblr: Zeldas Notes Edition pt 1. The Catalyst

Hi! Normally I don't like to get myself involved in online drama since, well it's the internet and drama isn't fun. I shouldn't need to explain myself any further.

Recently a well known account @zeldasnotes, has been involved in a bit of drama and has started slut shaming and attacking the character of someone I've recently become friend with for a misunderstanding. This isn't meant to bully her or attack her in any way, however we have recently found out she continues to talk about me, @evangelinesbible, and @d4rkpluto, for the last two weeks. Obviously we have talked about it as well, I'll never deny that, however it's not bullying. She may call this bullying, though.

Obviously that isn't a lot of time but I'd like to get this over with as soon as possible. I believe the only reason she had yet to harass me is because she 1. Doesn't know my Tumblr username and 2. Doesn't have a physical appearance to attack like she does Evangeline.

Before we get started I'd like to give some context to where this conversation happened.

@d4rkpluto made a discord (that is still open btw it's very fun there) that was meant to host a cool yearbook like event for some people in astro tumblr, the cap was put at roughly 20 people. We all tried our best to get to know each other despite some social mismatching such as language barriers (there will be more on that later). Most of us liked to talk about real life problems along with astrology as we were all friends, but Zelda's had become worrying very fast as she would only most post crime (no hate to true crime, but I don't like waking up to messages about a murdered person and how their chart "predicted it", but that's for another part) and her almost insane personal/love life. Eventually, someone decided to ask her about it out of concern. For the record I did not, as I don't know her personally and I seemed like she was someone content with being in bad situations as she never gave a timestamp of the things she talked about.

This is the conversation that occurred when she was questioned about it.

After that we noticed she left the discord roughly a day later (she probably left right after though), and she blocked/unfollowed everyone but me (lmao), and for that week it became a brief inside joke that if you were acting like Zelda, you we're simply being defensive for no reason.

Now that this part is over,

Pt 2. The DMs

Now this is where we get to the part where I drew the line, where I decided to get on my clicky keyboard and say some shit.

To reiterate, this hasn't been going on for that long. Obviously she was still fresh in our minds and we did bring her up. There was no bullying or lying. Simply a couple of jokes about her being defensive. I will admit, I tried my best to not joke as Zelda is clearly a volatile person and if the small jokes got to her, I figured she'd make a fuss. She did.

On July 26th (fun fact, you can look things up on discord chats) at roughly 10pm she had messaged Evangeline.

Obviously this doesn't make us look THE BEST (I'm aware), however gossip is a normal and human thing as long as not done in excess (imo, this was the biggest conversation we'd had about her since she'd left).

Now this is where I officially come in. I'm #1 Timeout Champion (thats the TC in my name).

I was the one who took the screenshots of the discord channel invite post, as I had found it weird she'd made a discord around July 19th soon after leaving ours. Not that it was my business, but it just made me laugh, and I was feeling weird about it. That is the reason likes were talked about.

I will say this did get made fun of because of what was talked about in the screenshot above, as that was after (check the dates).

Shortly after Eva had received that DM, I'd gotten on call with Eva to make sure she was alright, and she had messaged the discord about the message.

This is where we all started accusing each other of screenshotting the chat. I do understand if you have friends outside of a discord, and I do understand defending yourself, I'm not policing who can and can't be friends. If someone was gossiping about my friend, I'd do the same shit.

But it got worse.

I apologize beforehand for the cropping as these are from Eva (obviously).

Keep in mind every DM screenshot I share is sent between 9/10pm-4am for Eva and I while we were on call.

Keep in mind the photo's of Eva's she's referring to are public and things she wore in public and to a concert, a BEYONCE CONCERT, and then posted images of, ON A PUBLIC SITE, SEVERAL might I add.

She did not call Zelda pathetic, but her actions. I believe there is a difference.

I do feel the need to state here that I feel partially responsible for the harassment here, as I try my best to support Eva in any way that I can to achieve her goals, and I did push her to post about herself more as I like her style and think she's pretty. I did not think that it would be brought up in this style.

Because it shouldn't have been. This should've been a civil (albeit catty) conversation of "talking talk about me, please and thank you". I've had these conversations at a younger age and they've gone very well.

But it kept going as Eva defended herself.

I could be wrong about the screenshot thing, however I did find weird posts asking about where the discord had gone, and Zelda said she didn't have one even thought it was roughly and hour after she'd made the post, along with DMs from someone later about the discord.

The last bit is talking about this:

Yeah so they were talking about people they found attractive (Zelda is clearly in the conversation) and Eva was referencing fictional characters. Imma be fr I feel like you can tell she was joking the entire convo was just about their crushes real and fictional, Zelda then talked about someone who was murdered somehow worked that into the convo.

Just thought I'd include that if we're talking about crushes why the fuck is this shit being brought up but that's clearly more personal opinion.

So that's the entire conversation with Eva. It seemed to just be her trying to get Eva on a nonexistent "gotcha moment" and berating hr for her appearance and making an out of context screenshot more out of context.

Meanwhile in the discord, we'd been trying to figure out who had sent the screenshot, as we should it went from them talking behind the scenes (perfectly fine), getting upset (again fine), and then harassing (not fine) Eva, keeping in mind, Zelda is most likely older than Eva.

Eva being 19, an Zelda being between 22-26 based on her history.

Pt. 3: We figure out who it was this gets no cool title

We thought it was roughly 3 people, two who don't need to be involved and but the last will definitely be mentioned: @a-d-noxd-nox.

The first two people were just people in both Discords, one of us just confirming our convo from earlier when I said it was probably darker topics (which isn't relevant to me). From my perspective, I was fine with Adnox. I hadn't talked to her as much but she seemed okay. I'd wanted to get to know her more and at some point we'd spoken about watching Twilight but that fell through.

So we kicked out Ad-nox, and figured out it was her through process of elimination. I'll slowly start wrapping it up as around the time we kick Adnox out, Zelda had stopped. We still don't know why Adnox decided to shit on Eva specifically. I would love to know personally, but Eva herself doesn't care.

After that, we decided to let people in as seen in an earlier screenshot. We'd simply wanted more friends and it felt weird having an astrology tumblr, but not having a lot of people being in there.

So obliviously we asked if they mentioned us (we wanted to know), they had fairly recently, and we got this exchange with Zelda and some members of her discord:

I've cropped them a bit and censored people I don't believe to be relevant but I hate to be the bearer of bad news: No one is bullying you.

No one is mad you started a discord. It was simply funny for reasons stated above.

No one from this situation has sent hate to your inbox. No one cares enough.

No one asked you to post about true crime. I may have interacted with some on a irregular basis because I like to be friendly.\

We have made jokes. Because you lying is funny and Pluto is known for this, same way you're known for doing this shit.

I will once again state: Talking and joking about a situation you're in is human. This is the internet. This is not real life. Slut shaming a girl younger than you and fixating on her body and photos while preaching about being a good person is fuck-awful, along with lying to others about what happened in order to seem like the victim.

You're not a victim. You decided to fight people in the server when asked about why you choose to be in relationships with criminals and hang around generally questionable people. You took it as a personal attack when reaction images were posted. I can understand that may have felt bad at the time, but that;'s the moment we're you send a "Hello, it really hurt my feelings when..." Rather than a "Keep posting those nude photos" conversation. You wanted to your gotcha moment to prove you were right rather an accept this was a situation where no one was the winner.

Blaming your placements for your behavior will get you, a grown woman, no where. Keeping in mind, your chart is practically Eva and I's combined.

So from people who have a "Scorpio MC" (somethings she's blamed for her behavior), and from someone who has "Mercury square Pluto", it's just you. All of this behavior and the body shaming, the lying, to over exaggerating, it's just you.

You went after Evangeline for a reason. You had an existing relationship with Pluto, in which it seems like you guys were good friends before you did this. It could've been dealt with in a proper and friendly manner, but you chose to make fun of the 19 year old with I assume, a smaller amount of followers, and someone who is less likely to fight you, and someone who won't cause shit.

Great. Good Job.

#astrology #astrology observations #astro notes #astrology notes #astrology tumblr #zodiac #synastry #aries #taurus #cancer #gemini #leo #virgo #libra #scorpio #aquarius #pisces #capricorn #sagittarius

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darkwolf989 · 11 days

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Drugs 'n Memories (Valentino x Reader x Vox's Daughter)

Valentino’s limo pulled up outside the run down house. Flashes of his own teenagerhood raced through his mind. Part of him couldn’t blame his niece for wanting to have a little fun, to let off steam- especially when she had just aced her final exams last week. But as he and her father monitored the cameras that kept a watchful eye over every inch of the Pride ring, as well as the vitals on her tracker, their concern level grew. Anger pulsed through both of them as they watched a much older demon slip something into reader's cup. Valentino recognized the drug instantly. Nothing that would kill her, but it would definitely multiply the effects of the alcohol she was currently consuming.

Vox’s reaction was instantaneous. On his feet, slamming the keyboard, his typical hot headed, kill them all reaction. Valentino, on the other hand, understood the scene. And more importantly, he knew how to counteract the drugs that were now rushing through her veins.

“I’ll handle it, amicito,” he replied coolly. “You stay here and monitor the situation. I’ll bring her home. After all, she’s my niñita as well.”

And so as he stepped out of the limo, the familiar spring to summer scent engulfed him. He smiled to himself as memories of his own teenagerhood remerged. Memory lane wasn’t a path he often allowed himself to venture down- he much preferred his life in hell to his life as a human. But still, there were some parts of his humanity that bubbled up from time to time, memories he couldn’t simply erase.

Unlike his sweet niece, the younger Valentino, couldn’t have given less of a shit about grades. Not that he wasn’t intelligent, but brilliance isn’t defined solely on what happens in the classroom, and at seventeen, Valentino had bigger things to handle. Fucking, fighting, drugs- those were the three things he focused on. And rightly so, because when broken down, those three things translated into pleasure, protection and money.

It was about this same time- the end of the school year, post exams. Excitement buzzed in the air as most looked forward to summer break, time on the beach. Valentino, on the other hand, had business to attend to. No matter the season, he was always incredibly busy, a master at the art of supply and demand. So when one of his competitors approached him in the hallway, there was no hesitation. His girlfriend at the time, his sweet reader, jumped in front of him and before Valenitno could react, his competitors first met reader’s face.

Her reaction wasn’t expected. To every inch of Valentino’s bad boy reputation, reader was anything but. Straight A student, head of the student council, on the fast track to a law degree. And perhaps most importantly, had just earned herself her black belt.

The hallway filled with deafening silence. Valentino smirked and crossed his arms, more than content to watch. He knew what was coming. In one swift move, he watched Reader take down his competitor, leaving him nothing but a moaning and crying pathetic excuse for a human being.

Being hauled to the principal's office, no cameras to be had, it was Reader’s word against his competitors. Valentino listened as Reader vehemently denied Valentino’s involvement. And of course, the powers that be would believe her against him- she wasn’t exactly the type to be in trouble, while both Valentino and the other boy had suspension sheets a mile long. Not that being suspended, or even expelled would honestly matter to him, but there was something sexy about watching his latest fuck defend him vehemently. Later on that night, in the backseat of his car, he made sure to show her just how much he appreciated her defense.

Their relationship lasted the rest of the school year, and when he returned in the fall, she had been accepted to university a year early. Valentino never saw her again- not that he expected to. Nor did he care all that much. It was a long time after all. Besides, the little slut probably ended up in heaven. As he walked up the pathway to the house, he pushed back those thoughts, those memories. The past was in the past, and he needed to focus on the situation at hand.

He swung open the door and watched the teenagers scatter like roaches. He made his way through the house as though he owned it, glancing every so often at the tracker to ensure his niece's location. Around him, teenage demons began to whisper as they scurried out of his way.

Oh shit, is that Val?

What is Valentino doing here?

I heard he’s related to someone here.

Maybe he’s here to scout?

Wait, isn’t Vox’s daughter here?

You think that’s her uncle?

He enjoyed their fear. Relished in it, actually. Perhaps if they made the connection between her and exactly what family she came from, they would think twice before pulling her into events like these.

“Uncle Val?” His niece's voice squeaked from across the living room. She stared at him in shell shocked, deer in the headlights eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s time to go home now, niñita,” he said evenly as he strode up to her, plucked the red solo cup from her hand and casually tossed its contents over the demon who spiked it. “Come, before those drugs in your tummy hit.”

She looked at him in anger and he saw, not for the first time, a flash of himself in her defiance. How funny it was that although she wasn’t his biologically, she had streaks of him built into her personality as though she was.

“Uncle Valentino, I am staying here with my friends and there is nothing you can do about it,” she put her hands on her hips and glared. “And for your information, I’m not doing drugs, it's just a little vodka.”

“You forgot the cardinal rule of going out, bebita princessa. Always watch your cup,” he replied calmly as he lifted her up and tossed her over his shoulder with ease. “I’ve already had a long day, do us both a favor and don’t make it longer.”

The usual grumbles, the screams, the cries and the I hate yous spewed from her mouth. But no one dared to interfere. They knew the consequences if they stepped between Valentino and his family. He brought her inside the limo and checked his watch.

Three…two…

“Uncle Val, I don’t feel so good.”

Her head rolled to his shoulders and he laid her down on his lap. His timing was impeccable, right down to the exact second.

“I know. And you’re not going to. Shit’s gotta work its way out of your system.” He said as he rolled her to her side and twisted open a bottle of water as he pressed two black capsules to her lips. “Swallow these. Drink this. It won’t make the feeling go away, but it will absorb whatever’s left in your belly.”

She shakily obeyed and he gently held her steady as the limo brought them closer to home.

“Puke if you’ve got to, wouldn’t be the first time you got sick on me,” he said lightly as he held a plastic bag just below her mouth. “Better to get it all out than hold it in.”

She let out a groan. “Uncle Val? Did you ever…get into trouble when you were a kid?” she asked.

He chuckled and looked down at her. “Trouble? That’s hardly the word for it, bebita.”

She was quiet for a moment and he gently tucked back a stray strand of hair.

“Is Daddy gonna be mad?”

Valentino shook his head. “I think you Dad is just going to be happy I got to you in time. You need to be more careful, ninita. Especially if you’re going to misbehave so far out of town.” He stroked her back as he spoke. “Rape happens. It could have happened to you tonight, and you’re lucky- very lucky, I happened to be in the area and could get to you in time. Otherwise…” He paused and looked down at her, “I don’t want to ever see you in that situation, conejito. It would never be your fault, but you must be cautious. Not everyone is the kind soul you are.” He adjusted her ever so slightly. “Close your eyes. It’s going to be awhile before we make it home.”

“Uncle Val?”

“Yes, cariño?”

“Thanks for looking out for me. I’m sorry I yelled.”

He sighed, “bebita, I’m just glad you're safe. Save the apologies for your dad.”

#the vees #hazbin hotel #valentino x reader #valentino x you #hazbin fluff #the vees x reader #vox x reader #valentino #valentino hazbin hotel #voxval #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #vox #vox hazbin hotel #vox x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction

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thestreamdreampony · 3 months

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Me adding my two cents is probably not gonna do much, but here I go, I guess:

I want to preface this with saying that Wilbur's content and Lovejoy have been incredibly important to me and I've put a lot of time, effort and money into supporting Lovejoy especially. So finding out about this, before finding out about the details, I had originally reacted with incredulous derision of twitter stans. And then erring on the side of caution about how things developed.

At this point there's almost no question that it's Wilbur, for the simple reason that Shubble would have cleared up his name if it wasn't. There's no way she would throw someone innocent under the bus, if she knew somebody else was guilty. Additionally, not a single person in Wilbur's surroundings has disputed any claims and have only narrowed it down further towards Wilbur. At this point it is incredibly unlikely she is talking about anybody else.

I do want to take a moment to comdemn those (mostly on twitter) who used this opportunity to dig into both Shubble and Wilbur's private lives, trying to construct a narrative of her abuse and in some cases going so far as doxxing Wilbur. It is entirely possible to support Shelby and condemn her abuser, without invading their privacy and endangering people's lives. Shelby's goal was to warn people and to make them more aware of the signs of abuse. As well as make it as clear as possible, who she's talking about without saying who it is directly, for a meriad of possible reasons. It was not an invitation to write abuse fanfiction about her private life.

That being said, the way I will feel about this in the long run will depend heavily on how Wilbur deals with this situation. I will definitely distance myself either way (slowly but surely), but his reaction to this will influence how I will act moving forward.

Should he stay silent or respond with insincerity/derision/defensiveness/etc., then that's it for me. Fuck him.

But should he come forward, own up to it, apologize and prove that he is working on himself, then I might be able to find it in myself to give him a second chance over time. I just don't believe that doing bad things makes you irredeemable forever and ever and ever.

We know for a fact that Wilbur has been struggling with mental health problems for most of his teen and adult life and from his solo music we are also aware that he is incredibly aware of the fact that he is the problem in his relationships. Expressing dark thoughts in music, does not automatically mean somebody is abusive. In fact, creating dark art is an excellent way to deal with harmful thoughts and impulses. I have literally never taken his lyrics to mean that.

However, his lyrics in YCGMA and MSR have always been incredibly autobiographical and do show that he is acutely aware that he's the unhealthy element in his unhealthy relationships.

We also know directly from him, that he has distanced himself from most of his social circle and sought out therapy as recently as 2 weeks ago in an effort to improve his mental health.

This does not excuse his actions whatsoever. Mentally ill people are still responsible for the harm that they cause and Shelby is unbelievably brave to tell their story. I hope they finds peace, I hope she has all the support she could ever need and I hope she has achieved her goal of making people more aware of how people end up in situations like this. She is an inspiration for standing up for herself like this.

But I also think that, should Wilbur come forward, admit to his wrongdoings and prove over time that he is working on becoming a better person, friend and partner, that he does not have to be shunned forever and ever and ever. He has a long life in front of him and I hope both for him and all his future friends and partners that he manages to find a healthy, happy way of living. This can happen, even while he never bothers Shelby, or the other people he hurt, again.

This is a best case scenario. I do think he is allowed to take some time to formulate a response. A hasty response to situations like this have never helped anyone ever, neither the victim, nor the accused. Taking his time to come to terms with the situation, which surely came as a shock, and to really think about how he wants to deal with this situation is much better than him writing a twitlonger as soon as he finds out.

Either way, I will distance myself from him and Lovejoy, slowly but surely. I won't get rid of the merch clothing I own because it was quite expensive and throwing it away is a waste of perfectly good clothing, but I won't find the joy I once felt wearing them. (I am salty about me being gone from home for a few months and having ordered Lovejoy merch, which had been waiting for me for weeks and then finding out about this literally the day I travelled back. It definitely felt weird as hell to unpack that stupid NORMAL longsleeve with his fucking face on it, while being hurt and confused and angry.)

Listening to Lovejoy's music, likewise, will never feel as euphoric as it once did, even if I go back to it. Which really sucks cuz they genuinly hit my sweet spot in music taste. YCGMA and SISV specifically, have been so, so important to me and removing them from my listening rotation i going to Hurt.

Interestingly, I don't feel quite as terrible as last time I had to suddenly cut a content creator out of my life. So I guess practice makes perfect lmao.

I don't know if me writing and posting this had any point. I guess I just wanted to get it off my chest and maybe it resonates with somebody.

Anyway, take care of yourselves. Take it easy and try to focus on other things, if this hit you hard (ideally offline). Try to meet with friends, maybe play some boardgames (or video games), go for a walk,read a book, have a coffee with a loved one. There's joy in the world, despite it all.

#wilbur soot

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tetsuromybeloved · 2 years

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them as your boyfriend hcs

♡ ft. Kazutora Hanemiya, Rindou Haitani, Ran Haitani, Mitsuya Takashi, Inui Seishu

♡ I already wrote a hc for Ran but i had to add some new things. let me know if you would like to read a pt.2 of this with other characters. enjoy!! 🫶🏻

(navigation)

KAZUTORA HANEMIYA

He is soft and careful

You noticed from the start how scared he was, not of you, but to do something that would make you run away from him

He needs a lot of reassurance so he can gradually understand that you are comfortable with him

He treats you like you are the most important person in his life, you are.

He will try to spend time with you as much as possible trying to respect your boundaries

He wants you to tell him everything that he does wrong but in particular what he does right. He needs communication between you two since this is the first time he commits to another person

He craves physical touch and most of the time will initiate it even if he gets flustered

He loves to go on soft dates with you. coffee shop, museums etc

However, he prefers to stay at home and cuddle you. He adores your kisses, they make him feel warm

He will call you in the middle of the night if he starts to overthink because he needs to check that you are still there and you still love him

He is very jealous, but he always stop before crossing the line

Good boy you just need patience with him

HAITANI RINDOU

He is rough at first

Not the bad rough tho. It’s just that his life has always been battles and his brother and he doesn’t really know how to deal with his emotions

He will learn together with you, listening to what made you sad, angry or disappointed

There is a lot of communication between you two, and you know that you can go to him when something bothers your mind

He appreciates physical touch from you, but he prefers to demonstrate love in another way

Words of affirmation and acts of service

At first he thinks that it’s embarrassing to show love by words, but after seeing your smile when he told you how good that certain thing looked on you, he will gradually start to tell you even more how much he appreciates you

He loves your smile simp

Whenever he is with you he will do things for you. You want water but you are on the sofa? He will get it for you

Simple things to compensate the fact that he can’t always stay with you because of his schedule

He is jealous the normal amount but will get very defensive if someone annoys you

I love him :(

HAITANI RAN

Chaotic boy

I know that you would’ve have so much fun with him

He loves to go on adventures with you. He loves to try new things, to experiment in general

You would be the chaotic duo, creating mess around having the fun of your lives

He wants to do his skin care with you + his hair routine. He will bring you to the hair salon and pay for you

He probably wants to match hair

People knows that you are together, he doesn’t even need to show you off

Naps together. no discussion.

You have to sleep with him because he loves to use you as his pillow

He wants you to try mont blanc because if you happen to like it, it will be one of your typical dates every week

He loves to talk to you about fashion and all these things

Jealous.

He finally found someone he can share all these things with and he won’t let you get away so easily

10/10 would recommend

MITSUYA TAKASHI

My designer boy

Words of affirmation. He loves to remind you how much you are valid, important, beautiful and how much he loves you

He of course will make clothes for you. You are his muse after all

Whenever he has a competition, you are there for him and he loves to see you on the crowd with the clothes he designed

He is busy but he will always find the time to send you a message or a call to hear your voice

Communication is something that comes natural in your relationship. He will always be there for you, cheering for you, helping you, comforting you

He wants you to connect with his sisters and he loves to see you interact with them

You will have matched clothes. Nothing extravagant, he will just add some tiny things

He isn’t really jealous, he trust you with his whole heart but, if he sees someone approach in the wrong way, he will immediately step in

I want him as my boyfriend bye

INUPI SEISHU

Pretty boy

He is the comfort person you need beside you

He is very loyal and open minded in a relationship

He is intelligent and he loves to discuss with you about any topic. This relates to the times when you two are together at night, sleepy but don’t want to sleep because you want to hear the other’s voice

He is very comprehensive and understands whenever you don’t feel very well. He will hug you while you try to explain him whatever is going on in your mind

He loves to go around the city at night on his bike, you with his sweater on. You will probably stop somewhere to eat if you are hungry

He needs reassurance tho. He needs to know that he is enough for you because sometimes he feels like you deserve better

He also adores physical touch, to feel your warmth on his body and to have you next to him in general

Perfect boy let me give him a kiss

reblogs are appreciated 🫶🏻

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curtsycream · 4 months

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Beside You

Rockstar!Eddie x Reader

When your lover invites you to a wedding you didn’t know was his until you got there. Leading you to rethink your life and meeting a rockstar.

She could never understand how a simple question could change a person’s world. But hearing the words “I do,” did just that and not for a good reason.

She remembers the wedding standing there as he said the words. The same words that ruined her inside and out. It happened so fast the kiss, the cheering, the dancing.

She wanted it to stop, it didn’t feel right to see him marry someone else. When she stood she had thought it over but it never came. How she would object to the wedding, how she would admit her love for him, and how he would choose her time and time again.

Yet none of that happened and none of it ever will she was simply too late. The moment she stood up she froze in place unsure of what to say or do. People stared momentarily as her internal battle raged on.

But the moment was lost as soon as it started when the kiss happened and they had something else to focus on.

It had only been a few weeks since that day and she still felt helpless. Her heart ached in anticipation that one day he would come to her and change his mind. But reality and delusion seemed to switch places in her mind. He never told her why he invited her when he was the groom and it seemed she would never know.

She wanted to disregard the wedding thinking she was made for him. That idea left her restless and unsure about what to do with her life. With an unsteady sigh she lights the cigarette in her hand as she stands on her balcony.

Her vision wavering as tears spill over skewing her vision. The sound of someone clearing their throat caused her to look over at the balcony beside her.

He was handsome big doe eyes, cherub features, and long curly brown hair. The look on his face was one of understanding rather than sympathy. She was grateful.

“What’s put you in such a foul mood, Birdy.”

Opening her mouth to speak she shook her head, “my own stupidity. Not being able to take a hint when a guy tells me he loves me yet invites me to his wedding.”

“Yikes,” he said putting his hands up in defense. “And I thought I had it bad because the cafe doesn’t have those fancy little fruit tarts. You win this round, Birdy.”

She didn’t intend to but how could she not crack a smile at his words. It was clear his attempt was to cheer her up and he did. Looking down at her cigarette she puts it out on the iron railing in front of her.

“Y/N.”

“Pretty name, looking for a last one?”

“Funny and handsome,” she said giving him a pointed look.

He winked at her before leaning over the iron railing towards her balcony, “what can I say I’m a real charmer. Though most people just call me Eddie.”

“And what do other people call you?” She asked leaning towards him.

The way the moonlight seemed to illuminate his eyes left her staring. Handsome was an understatement, he was something not yet defined by words.

“You call me lover,” he whispers to her.

Blinking she looked away to hide just how impressed she was. “I ask other people not me,” she let out in a rushed tone.

Shrugging he crosses his arms, “most people is everyone else but you.”

“That’s not how that works you’re making things up as you go, aren’t you?”

“Always, it’s how I work best.”

So lover what are you doing out here?”

Eddie was amused as he sighed dramatically, “well I was talking with this psychic. She read my palm earlier and told me I had to be on this balcony to meet this beautiful woman that needed someone to talk to. Have you seen her?”

“The beautiful woman?”

“Who?”

She rolled her eyes, “you’re lame.”

“Hey that’s no way to talk to your lover, where are your manners.”

“Oh my dearest apologies, maybe your psychic should have warned you about terrible jokes,” she replied.

Placing a hand on his chest he looked at her offended, “excuse you my jokes are amazing. Is this the thanks I get trying to cheer up a beautiful woman?”

“Who?”

“You’re so original,” he tells her with a teasing smile.

Smiling back at him she nods, “I know my jokes are amazing.”

“Our jokes, you can’t monopolize my jokes,” pointing at her Eddie gave her a warning look.

“I don’t think you used that word right.”

“Oh what you can use it better?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes I can, because I have a monopoly over your jokes.”

His eyes narrowed as he looked at her, “you just said what I said.”

“No, I said it better.”

“You think you’re funny,” his smile wider as he noticed she was holding back her laughter.

“I’m very original,” she laughed out.

“I bet,” he whispered watching her laugh without hesitation. In his eyes it was beautiful to watch someone let go and enjoy themselves. She was beautiful in a way he just couldn’t put his finger on. It was unexplainable.

A yawn ripped him from his thoughts as he noticed her covering her mouth. “I think someone’s ready for bed.”

“Maybe I’m a little tired.”

Shaking his head he looked her over, “I think a little is an understatement.”

Yawning once more she nods, “maybe I should sleep then.”

“Maybe you should.”

“Well goodnight lover,” she said slowly.

“Goodnight Birdy,” he responded just as slow.

Smiling at the nickname she turned to walk back into her hotel room. “Wait!”

Stopping she looks back over at him noticing how he held some of his hair to his lips. His eyes darting around before they focus on her. “I’m having a concert this weekend and if you want, you can come.”

“I’d love to,” she smiled this time went inside of her hotel room. The second she disappeared Eddie pumped his fists in the air, “fuck yeah.” He whispered to himself before going inside of his own hotel room.

Maybe a part two or no? Idk yet I just have this want to write about the other woman trope and weddings. If I make more parts it will be slowish burn because I like to drag things out and make the reader sad, happy, frustrated, horny, delighted, angry, then in love.

#stranger things au #stranger things #eddie munson #angst #other woman #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie x reader #eddie munson au #eddie munson x reader #slowish burn

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hedgehog-moss · 2 years

Text

I meant to shear my llamas last spring, but ended up having to cancel due to yet another national lockdown—and it was actually for the best since last summer was so cold and rainy; not a good time to be a naked llama.

So we postponed things by a year, and our new appointment was today, and I'm so pleased with how it went! The shearer said, and I quote, that my llamas were exceptionally nice llamas. I'd never had them shorn before, so I didn't know what to expect, and just to be safe my mum and I added crossbars between the posts in the corral earlier this week—it used to be just a wire fence. I thought wooden rails would be more of a deterrent in case of a llama uprising (literally—Pampe's jumped over this corral fence once when she was a teenager.)

Here are the new crossbars, with fresh leaves still attached, for a bonus llama snack (they have now been eaten)

I decided Pampelune would go first. Pyrgus refused to enter the corral with his mum, so he worriedly watched her being haltered and tied to a post from outside—I was hoping for a poignant mother-son nose-cuddle scene like in Dumbo but no, Pampy actually looked a bit offended by her son's wimpiness, and Gus was like sorry :( the corral is scary :(

Pampy was so calm and patient throughout <3 She's a very chill llama so I was expecting things to go well with her. I warned the shearer that Pampérigouste would be another story—that was the reason I wanted Pampy to go first, so Pampe could watch her mother calmly being shorn and see that nothing bad was happening.

The only issue we encountered is that Pampelune likes to wear her ears low behind her head, as shown above, because it just seems to be the ear position she finds most comfortable (and it's the reason she ranked last in last year's ear contest), so we had to grab her ears and move them this way and that in order to shear the back of her head, and she very much resented it. Still, she was very good and was awarded a banana peel and half a carrot.

(Important bit of arcane knowledge: underneath her wool, a llama has the texture of very old and scratchy wall-to-wall carpeting)

At first I hesitated to keep Pampe in the corral while her mum was being shorn, explaining that she might freak out about being trapped in a small fenced place with a stranger wielding a very noisy unknown device. Straight away she started debunking my claims by being very calmly and politely curious about what was happening.

The shearer had been previously told on the phone that she might only be able to shear 1 llama, because the second one is a bit of a pain in general. Pampe's never been shorn in her life and she's Pampe. A free llama. She doesn't like being controlled or immobilised or forced to wear a halter and she's not particularly trusting with strangers. It seemed safe to assume shearing her would be challenging, and the shearer was abundantly warned that she would be dealing with one Good Llama and one Bad Llama.

So, of course, Pampe proceeded to be The Best Llama This Shearer Had Ever Met. Just so she could complain about being unfairly slandered, I suppose. She didn't even dance around or lift her feet when her legs were being shorn, which is apparently something every llama does as a defensive reflex. She just stood there like "?? I'm a model llama. Everyone knows that. A pleasure to have in class. What lies has my owner been feeding you?"

Pampe: "I haven't had an experience this boring since giving birth."

Baby Poldine: side eye

(Poldine was pretty intrigued by the whole thing. You can hear her quizzical hums in the video, and when her mum was freed she immediately went to sniff her and touch her all over with her nose, while holding her tail up very high, which seems to be the baby llama equivalent of cartoon characters going around with a question mark above their head. )

Pandolf spent the morning locked in the barn because he tends to express his support a bit too exuberantly (I bet he would have volunteered to be shorn in solidarity), and when he was finally freed, he also had a lot of questions.

Pampe's wool turned out to be a lot thicker than Pampelune's, and Pampoldine's father is also very fluffy, so I think my next shearing appointment will be just for Pampe & Poldine. The shearer was so happy with my llamas—at one point I was telling Pampy "That's a good llama" and she said "That's an excellent llama!!" and then she called them exceptional, which I've already mentioned, but I'm so proud.

She said she often needs to use a hobble or ropes and force the llamas to lie down on their side, like they do with alpacas, which tends to be more stressful for everyone involved when it comes to llamas, since they're bigger and struggle more forcefully. She'd also told me to have old towels at the ready, to wipe off all the spit we would receive from stressed or angry llamas—and no one was spat on even once.

(I asked her how she came to be a travelling llama shearer, and she said she had two alpacas on her farm, and her shearer offered to train her since there are few camelid shearers in the country; so she's now his successor. She spent the night on my land in her camper van and we did the shearing in the early morning, then had a coffee and she was off to shear 25 alpacas further South.)

After letting everyone out of the corral I went to get a large bag to gather up all the wool, and meanwhile the llamas were rolling and rolling in the still-dewy grass, it must have been quite an intriguing and refreshing sensation! As close to skinny-dipping as a llama can ever get.

Conclusion:

#crawling along #is this a dated reference #probably #okay i just looked up how old the bouncing pixar sheep is and this short is nearly 20yo oh my god

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clone-whore-99 · 7 months

Note

Would it be completely out of line to request a Rex fic? You can say no if it is--it's fine. It's probably not everybody's cup of tea to tackle.

The idea is Rex and fem!reader have been in a relationship for a decent chunk of time (six months min?) and reader has definitely fallen in love with Rex . (Because why wouldn't she--he's REX.) He's her first real relationship and she's had all of her firsts with him except her first sexual experiences (beyond some groping) and now finally feels ready to take that step. Except she's nervous and a little self-conscious because, while she has no experience, Rex does and she's afraid to be a disappointment to him. How he handles that information and what he does to soothe her worries, I'll leave to your discretion.

TL;DR: Can I get some slow, hot, romantic, sweet, sexy first-time smut with Rex, please?

BTW, love your writing. Your Mayday fic was literally the first one I found after I searched him on a whim (curious to see how fast the stuff would be coming out for him). Very nice. Way to get out in front of it all!

Hiiii! No of course it will not be out of line to ask for a Rex fic! I am CLONE-whore-99 after all, not just Bad-Batch-whore-99. Sorry it took me so long to respond btw, life's a bitch but just know I've been working on this since I got the ask

Firsts

Rex x f!Reader

18+ minors will get yeeted

Warnings: so much fluff with a little smut to flavor it, lot of firsts, inexperienced reader, established relationships, fingering/handjob, safe unprotected piv, both reader and Rex are such sweethearts, reader is in a bit of a dangerous situation in the beginning

LMK if I missed anything (❁´◡`❁)

Word count: about 4k

Beta read by: @nunanuggets

Please like, reblog and comment if you like my work, it means more than you know ❤

If you want to, you can also help by buying me a coffee ❤

Rex. The love of your life, Rex. The man you could see yourself spend the rest of your life with. The man you had all of your firsts with - well, almost all.

The way the two of you met, was a classic rom-com meet cute. Something you’d never thought actually happened in real life.

But it did.

To you of all people.

You had just moved to Coruscant for University, first time being on your own in the big, scary galaxy. You had never really thought of yourself as sheltered or naive, but the other students had apparently labeled you as “gullible” and thought you an easy target for pranks.

Most of these pranks were thankfully harmless, but one did seem to take things a tad too far. They had sent you on a monkey-lizard chase on the lower levels, something you quickly realized after being laughed out of a bar, but not before you had managed to get completely lost.

As time passed on, more and more… Questionable characters came out, and you felt way less secure and a lot more desperate.

Some of them must’ve picked up on your nervous behavior, as they began to circle you, tease you and comment on how you must be from the topside, that you had no place being down there, ect.

You were sure this was it. This was how you were going to die, within your very first week of being on your own. You were terrified, alone and couldn’t help the tears beginning to stream down your cheeks.

That’s when he entered your life. Your savior. Your hero. Your king. Rex.

With a few stern words, one warning shot purposely missing a perpetrators head by only a hair strand and a few punches for good measure, he had saved you.

He had stayed with you until you calmed down enough to actually talk, made sure you actually got back home to your student apartment and stayed the night on the couch, like the gentleman he was.

The next day was apparently one of his rare days off duty, which he decided to spend with you.

Pretty soon he would spend all of his off time in your apartment, whenever he was planetside.

He taught you self defense and how not to be so “gullible” when it came to others. He told you about his crazy adventures, about the jedi and the things he faced in the heat of the battle.

In return, you taught him how to relax, to let himself mourn his losses and his brothers and about regular, civilian life. Though, he never really seemed to quite get the grasp of it.

It didn’t take long for you to fall in love with this wonderful man and it appeared the feeling was mutual. When exactly the relationship started, you weren’t sure. It just kinda happened.

Maybe it began when Rex for the first time brought home a souvenir from one of his missions. Nothing illegal or grand really, just a pretty rock he had found while resting, which made him think of you. He was so shy when he presented it to you, rubbing the back of his and stumbling over his words explaining the reason behind it.

Or maybe it was the first time the two of you cuddled together, warming up and drying off after having gone on an emergency grocery run in the pouring rain. Or the first time Rex let you see the emotional scars the war had caused him. Or the first time he had slept in the same bed as you, after you had had a nightmare.

No. It was without a doubt, the first time you kissed. You wanted to make a traditional meal from your home planet, only to accidentally burn it. You were so distressed, wanting nothing more than for this man to experience a part of your home. Rex had calmed you down with a kiss and the two of you ended up going on your first official date, at Dex’ Diner.

Everything about this man seemed perfect. He made you feel like the most important person in the whole galaxy, like you deserved everything good and then some. And you truly felt the same for him.

Which gave you an inkling of guilt. Rex was a rather… experienced man, when it came to bedroom stuff. Obviously. He wasn’t only extremely handsome and sexy, he was calm, intelligent and had an energy about him which made you feel safe. He was ideal in every way possible.

And you… Were you. You hadn’t even as much as kissed a man before Rex, let alone done anything sexual with anyone. You wanted your first time to be with Rex, but you were scared he would be bored or dissatisfied with you.

Why wouldn’t he? There was no way you could give him anything special. Anything he hadn’t tried yet.

You still wanted to try, though. Rex was bound to come planetside within a few hours and you did everything to give him a warm welcome.

You showered, cleaned the apartment, showered again, dressed your bed with new comfortable sheets, made a delicious meal that just needed quick heating once you got hungry, showered one more time just to be sure and went out to get some fancy drinks and sexy lingerie.

Upon returning to the apartment, you heard the shower running. Thinking that you might’ve forgotten to turn it off during the chaos of preparations, you ran to the refresher to fix your mistake.

How you missed the perfectly stacked, dirty armor next to the bathroom door will forever be a mystery.

The very next thing you knew, however, was that you had just run in on a butt naked Rex in the shower. And you suddenly felt a whole lot of things at once.

Rex didn’t seem too bothered to cover himself, though he did stand in a way so his more private parts were hidden from you. More for your comfort than his own.

“Y/N, you’re home. I hope it’s okay I let myself in to get clean, our last mission was on this dustball of a planet,” he explained, as if he ever needed a reason to let himself in. You had given him the keycard and code to your door for a reason.

Despite your best efforts, no sound managed to escape your lips. You were kinda just stuck there, staring dumbfoundedly at Rex, feeling your cheeks get hotter and knees get weaker by the second.

After getting a towel to cover himself with, Rex exited the shower and closed the space between the two of you. “Aaaare you okay, Y/N? I really didn’t mean to scare you, if that’s what happened.”

You were somehow unable to move, just staring ahead like a kybuck caught in headlights. Rex placed a hand on your cheek and lightly tilted your head up to meet his gaze. The look on his face was a mixture of worry from your odd behaviour and loving to finally see you again.

“I was gonna surprise you, but I guess you beat me to it.” You finally managed to get out, though your voice was still careful and low for some reason.

“Is that so? What was the surprise?”

Your heart was beating so fast and loud, you nearly feared it might break free from your chest. Your whole body felt like it was burning hot and melting away, with the way Rex was looking at you, with how close he was, nothing but a singular towel to cover himself.

“I was going to make this night special for you,” you admitted, without fully revealing the truth.

“Mesh’la, every night spent with you is special.”

Though his statement was sweet, it was far from what you meant. It felt weird admitting the truth, nerves wrenching your gut. Although you were certain you wanted this that night, with this man, it was still a huge step for you.

Hiding your face in your hands, you pressed yourself against Rex’ bare chest - which did not help with your rapid heartbeat. “I want to have sex with you. I was gonna surprise you with sex,” you admitted, voice muffled from your hiding.

With both hands coming to rest on your shoulders, Rex gave you the smallest shove so you wouldn’t be hiding against him or behind your hands. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure I heard you correctly,” He said, looking confused though you could swear there was something else hiding behind his eyes. “Did… Did you say you wanted to… Have sex with me?”

You nodded slowly.

Rex’ hand moved up to your cheek to cup it, as his lips made contact with yours. It was long and soft, melting away all of the tension you had built up with anxiety.

“Mesh’la,” Rex began, his voice deep and raspy. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

Confusion written all over your face, your eyes searched his face for any sign of sarcasm or joking. “What do you mean?”

A smirk crossed Rex’ soft lips, as if you had just asked him why the sky was blue. “Just that you seem a bit nervous, that’s all. I like this thing we’ve got going and I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

Rex’ features had a tendency to become soft in your presence. When you first met him and often when he returned from battle, his features were harsh and rough from the stress of the war. But whenever he was around you, they softened a whole lot, as if a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

It was incredible to get to witness him relaxing and being himself around you. It made you feel more relaxed too.

“I want to,” You replied, upon realizing you had spent way too long studying his features, rather than answering his question. “I really do want to. Why else would I have spent all day preparing for this? It’s just…” Suddenly feeling shy, your gaze averted downwards and to the side. You leant in closer to Rex, resting against his chest, though this time without it obstructing your voice while talking. “It’s gonna be my first time and… You’re, well, you. And I’m scared I’m not gonna live up to your expertise or it won’t be any good for you or… I don’t know! My mind starts running and running so fast I can’t keep up and all these scenarios start playing out and most are good but those that aren’t just -”

With a swoop of his hand, Rex had tilted your face upwards again and pressed a kiss against your lips to shut you up. Your own hands rested against his abs, just around the start of his happy trail.

Breaking the kiss far too soon, Rex’ forehead came to rest against yours. His eyes were half lidded and so easy to get lost in. “How about we just take it slow and see where it ends?” He suggested, before planting another kiss on your lips. Straightening back up to stand tall, an adoring smile crossed his lips. “And I promise, there’s no way anything you do won’t feel good for me.”

With that, the two of you suddenly ended up in your bed together. But unlike all the other times before, this wasn’t for sleeping or a cuddle session.

All of your plans had been thrown out the window. Rex suggested you waited with the food till after, same with the wine as he wanted you to be clear headed for this.

You were still fully dressed, while Rex’ towel was hanging on to dear life. Rex was leaning over you, sloppily making out while one hand kept exploring your body. So far, not much out of the ordinary.

Well, other than only a piece of cloth separating you from his member and your exploring hands constantly inching closer to it.

Rex only broke the kiss for a second, so he could take off your top and quickly went back to kissing you.

His calloused, yet surprisingly soft hands began fondling with your breast for a spell, expertly massaging and pinching them, causing you to be the one to break the kiss this time, with a gasp.

Rex used this opportunity to move his sloppy kisses down your neck, as one of his hands simultaneously traveled down towards the apex of your legs.

“Tell me if you want me to stop, or if it becomes too much.” He murmured against your skin, the vibrations traveling through your body and forced a pathetic whine out of you, as a response.

Upon making contact with your most private area, Rex found that much to his surprise, you were soaked. Beyond sloppy-makeout-session soaked. And as his finger made contact with your throbbing, sensitive clit, your hips instantly buckled against his hand, while your head threw back in a moan.

Rex broke the attack on your neck, so he could look you in the eyes, as he asked: “How long have you been turned on?” His eyes were dark with lust, his tone bordering between being genuine and being playful.

You gave up your attempt to explore his body, in order to hide the shame on your face. Not accepting this, Rex quickly brushed your hands away and pressed his forehead against yours, forcing you to look at him. All the while, his finger did not stop its teasing of your clit, causing pathetically low moans to escape your lips.

“Answer me, mesh’la.” Rex ordered, his voice commanding yet endearing.

“I, ah… I don’t know? Been thinking ‘bout this all dayhhh… But seeing you, in the shower, def - kark - definitely did something to me.”

“You’ve been thinking about me all day? Tell me about them,” Rex egged you on, one of his digits now teasing your entrance while his thumb continued its ruthless pace on your clit.

Speaking was getting harder, while your vision was starting to blur and this knot began tightening in your solar plexus. One hand grabbed tightly onto Rex’ bicep, while the other found its way past the very loose hanging towel and down to hold his cock. You weren’t sure where this new confidence came from, as you had never had contact with another person's genitals.

The throbbing would probably have freak you out, if it wasn’t for Rex’ finger curling into you, while he moaned - the sexiest thing you’ve ever had the pleasure to hear. The thing that was going to tip you over the edge.

Your grip on Rex’ bicep tightened, nails digging into his tan skin, while your other hand began pumping his cock, moving completely on its own accord. “Ka-ark, Rex….” You moaned, your hips thrusting into his palm, as the knot in your stomach snapped and a huge wave of indescribable pleasure washed over you.

Rex moaned praises into your ear, as his hips began thrusting into your hand. He was struggling himself, the feeling of your hand around his cock, while you were moaning his name, made it hard for him not to just cum right then and there.

But he wouldn’t be a very good soldier - much less captain - if he broke that easy. So when you came down from your high, Rex pulled away.

Confused, you pushed yourself up on your elbows, so you could look at the soldier who had by now moved on to pull your pants and underwear off.

“Did… Did I do something wrong?” you asked, slight panic filling you at the sudden retrieval on his part.

Chuckling, Rex replied: “No, not at all, mesh’la. On the contrary, your hand felt so good, I needed to know what the real deal feels like. That is, if you’re alright with it?” He tested, fingers already gripping the band of your pants and ready to pull.

How could you say no? The way he was looking up at you, all hopeful and loving, like you were a goddess and he was awaiting your blessing. Besides, if he could make you feel this good with just his fingers, you could barely imagine how the real deal would feel.

You nodded at him, the grip he already had on your heart tightening furthermore. “Yes, I’m alright with it.” You said out loud, knowing he wouldn’t accept just a nod for a reply.

In a swift motion, the soldier had completely undressed you. His gaze wandered over your nude form, admiration mixed with lust all in one look.

“Beautiful,” he said breathlessly.

Feeling rather shy under his adoring gaze, you tried to somewhat cover your body with your arms, only to have Rex instantly pushing them away again.

“Don’t,” he encouraged, looking lovingly into your eyes. “You’re more beautiful than I ever dreamt about.”

“You dream of me?” You asked, surprised at this new insight.

“All the time, mesh’la.” Rex replied, leaning back over you to bruise your lips with a few more kisses. “You have become a permanent occupant in my thoughts, giving me something other than the Republic and my brothers to fight for.” Rex continued the kisses down your neck, marking you as his with a small bite.

You weren’t sure if the noise you made was a moan or a sob, but it was something in between. How could he say such wonderful, loving things to you, all the while attacking your neck and grinding against your sex.

At last, Rex sat up again, using both his hand and cock to gather as much of your slick as possible. Then, he paused for a moment. “Are you…?” He began, unsure how to properly ask.

“I am,” you replied as if you had read his thoughts - or maybe just his face. “And are you…?”

“Had my checkups before coming planetside, perfect health all around.” Rex replied, reading your mind on the subject.

The fact that neither of you even had to finish your sentences, that the other part just instantly knew what you meant, furthered your belief that this was the right man for you.

“Then let’s do this.”

Rex did not need to be told twice. He lined himself up with your entrance, the tip barely pushing in.

“Just relax mesh’la and tell me if it becomes too painful, okay?” Rex’ eyes found yours and the lust was temporarily swapped with worry. This wasn’t his first time being someone's first, and he knew the more nervous they were, the more uncomfortable it would be for both parts. And that was the last thing he wanted for you.

It felt like you were about to cry from happiness. He was so considerate, so amazing. You couldn’t find a better man. “I promise.”

Even though you tried your best to just relax, the intrusion of the head and the sudden stretch was a lot. Rex seemingly quickly picked up on this, as he closed the space between your bodies without pushing any further in.

His hand began stroking your cheek, as he placed small kisses on your lips, your nose, your forehead and eyelids. It worked, as you melted into his touch and began relaxing again. This gave him room to continue.

“You’re doing great, you feel so good, you’re so amazing, I love you,” these and many other things were whispered into your ear, praising you as you took more and more of him.

You wrapped your arms around his back, needing to somehow feel even closer to him. One hand found home on the nape of his neck, while the other held onto his shoulder. Tears pricked your eyes at the stretch, but it wasn’t unbearable. It was a pleasant burn and Rex made sure to take it slow, so you could adjust.

It felt like he was deeper in than possible, when he suddenly stopped. You moved your hands, so you could look him in the eyes. “Is it all the way in? It feels so big.”

Rex gave you an adoring smile, then adjusted himself so you could look down at where your bodies connected. “It’s a bit more than half. I’ll let you get used to it, then slowly start thrusting. It’s gonna make it easier to go deeper and feel better for the both of us. Is that okay?”

“Is it okay with you?”

The answer was within the question and Rex knew it. You were okay with it as long as he was. Just the same for him. So instead of giving a verbal response, he began kissing you. No matter how many times you had felt those soft lips on your own, you would never tire of the feeling.

He slowly began thrusting and the feeling was beyond anything you had ever experienced. The stories you’ve heard of others, the feeling of fingers and all that was nothing compared to the real deal. You felt so full, so complete in the most incredible way.

Your nails dug into his scarred back, you had to break the kiss in order to moan, your hips began meeting his half way through on their own accord. And when he started going faster, his name left your lips with each exhale.

Something about the way his balls were hitting your ass with each thrust filled you with pride. He was all the way in. And the fact that he also had to stop his kisses in order to moan - to grunt! Oh it was the most amazing sound you had ever heard. It made your body swell with pride.

No, not the pride. Something else. Something better.

It was like every nerve in your body had become ignited with pleasure. Like all of the force, the stars, everything good had connected inside your body and was begging to be released.

All of your muscles tightened, your vision blurred as your mouth was stuck in this ‘O’ shape. Wave after wave washed over you, cleansing you from your anxieties and troubles. Never had you ever imagined a feeling this good. Never had you thought it was possible.

Rex seemed to be just as lost in pleasure, as he kept muttering something under his breath, something you couldn’t understand, while his thrust became faster and more shallow.

Just as you were at your peak, at the moment you thought it was impossible to feel even better, you were proven wrong. Ribbons of seed spilled into you, painting your insides white and it made you reach a new high, a new sensation of indescribable pleasure.

Rex collapsed onto you, all of his energy sucked out with his cum. He was sweating, panting, and completely exhausted. This soldier who could run for miles, climb impossible mountains and fight for his life without losing his breath. But this… You. You managed to exhaust him.

Not that you were in a much better state, but you at least had the excuse of being a civilian.

After catching your breath, you finally regained control over your own limbs. Weakly, you slapped the soldier on the side of his arm.

“Ow, what was that for?”

“Why have you never told sex feels this good?”

Chuckling, Rex replied: “I’ll let you know next time.”

Dividers by: Unknown, @lornaka @freesia-writes and @djarrex

Taglist: @zoeykallus @rain-on-kamino @ashotofspotchka @chxpsi @maulsrightleg @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @wildmoonflower @nunanuggets @lokigirlszendaya @wholesuhmsstuff @pb-jellybeans @dangraccoon

LMK if you want to be added to the taglist (✿◡‿◡)

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arabellasleopardcoat · 9 months

Text

MAD (Aemond Targaryen x Reader)

Chapter summary: Aemond makes his move. You change the game.

Warnings: Non consensual kiss. Rough grabbing. Mature language. Manipulation. Accidental knife kink. Toxic dynamics.

A/N: It's a wrap, folks!

Previous parts here.

It’s not like you have been playing Aemond. Or at least, not on purpose. It’s much easier to forget that you are not meant to love him when you don’t have him right in front of you. Through letters, it’s easier to detach the calculating prince from the young man who’s interesting and witty.

Without him in front of you, you do not feel as defensive. It’s easier to let slip tiny details about your daily life. He is not winning any awards for the most devout knight or something, but he is both entertaining and thoughtful.

After the fast-paced weeks of life at court, you find yourself missing the hurry that came with it. There was always something to do, a bug to catch, a Prince to hide from. While you love Honeyholt and thrive among the good weather and your family, you do miss the constant stimulation of life at the Red Keep.

Aemond proves himself to be a master of distraction. He has a great memory, never forgetting any of the things you tell him. You wonder if he saves your letters as you do his. In your mind’s eye, you see him hunched over his desk, rereading your letters, searching for a passing remark to make a note of.

You are not in love. But you certainly are struck with love’s arrows. It is a wonderful feeling. One that makes your days more entertaining, and it’s only that why you allow it. It warms your body inside out, fills your stomach with nerves each time a messenger reaches you, has you hurrying out of dinner to read his letters.

In time, he gets bolder. Begging you to be his mistress, for an evening only. Begging to be able to hold you to him. Those sorts of letters anger you. You like pretending you are friends, or perhaps something more. But all the allusions to bedding you are like being drenched in cold water.

Aemond doesn’t want you. He just wants to ruin you, that’s all. When confronted with the fact that you are no more than a piece on a Cyvasse board, being played by him and Otto Hightower, you feel dirty. Used and discarded.

It hurts more than it should. His attention is flattering, but your rational mind knows that this is a bad idea. It’s a confusing feeling. The things he speaks about in his letters, even the more crude ones, hold a certain appeal. After all, you are a young, unmarried woman. Just like anyone else, you do feel desire. How could you not? Aemond is handsome and smart, and always paying attention to you.

One week, the letters stop. You do not hear of him for a few days, and while you should be relieved, you can’t help but worry. Has he simply grown tired of this game and decided to give up? Are you worth so little to him? Or are they planning something?

Bad luck, for you, always comes in threes. And three unusual things happened in Honeyholt that day. One, a letter from King's Landing arrives, and it’s not from him. It’s from your grandfather. Two, Lord Hightower appears on your doorstep and prevents your father from reading the letter, imposing his presence on your hall. Three, it’s raining.

The whole ordeal, in all, it’s very dramatic. It’s an unusual choice for a liege lord to decide to hold court in one of his vassals' halls. But Lord Hightower does. That ensures Honeyholt’s hall is filled with people that come to petition him. The perfect public for what it’s to come.

Unable to go out in the grounds due to the rain, you find yourself drawn to the hall. Your father says it’s good for your education or something, to watch him and Lord Hightower pass judgment.

It’s around mid-morning when a great commotion is heard outside. You get up from your chair, and walk towards a window. Dread fills your stomach when you realize what lies outside.

A dragon. And not just any dragon. Vhagar. Aemond’s.

“My lord!” One of the servants rushes inside. Both your father and Lord Hightower stand. Not even the servant knows whom to address, his eyes moving panicked between the two men. “There is a dragon outside!”

More and more people rush towards the windows, looking outside. Most of your tenants have never seen a dragon before, but have heard of them. The sight scares them as much as it fascinates them.

Your father’s face morphs in a second. From benevolent lord, to utter rage. He has known of your correspondence with the prince. It’s sort of hard to miss, considering there is a new letter for you each week. Safe to say, he doesn’t approve.

“Stay here!” He barks. “Do not go outside.”

You nod, helplessly. One part of you wants to rush outside and greet him. You weren’t aware of how much you missed him until you had him in front of you and found yourself unable to go to him. Another part of you knows, though, that your father is right. It’s not in your best interests to go to him.

Lord Hightower gives him a polite smile. He looks uncannily like his brother when he does so.

“Is there something wrong, Beesbury?”

“Just an unexpected guest.” But stopping to answer him has slowed him down, and soon, another startled servant appears.

“Prince Aemond Targaryen.” He announces, wide-eyed. Your father looks like he is sucking a lemon.

Butterflies flutter in your stomach. Your heart beats harder in your chest. Impulsively, you smooth your hair down and fix the bodice of your dress. Then, you feel silly for doing it and fix it again, so it lays just as it did before.

Aemond enters the room, barely acknowledging your father or his great uncle. He is in his usual leather attire, even with the pouring rain. Some things never change, you think fondly.

He crosses the room in two large strides, standing right in front of you. The look in his eye makes your smile falter. Pure, cold determination. Nothing else. Aemond grabs you by the arms, pulling you to him.

Your hopes are crushed. You know that whatever it’s about to happen, it’s going to hurt. And the worst thing? All your tenants and the minor houses from The Reach are going to watch it happen.

“How long has my heart longed for you.” His voice is loud, yet flat. As if he doesn’t really men the words he is speaking. You raise your hands, trying to push him away. You only make contact with his shoulders before he is kissing you.

His mouth. On yours. Hungrily, demandingly. Trying to coax you into melting into it. Your shock buys him a few precious seconds that he doesn’t let go to waste, even taking the chance to grope your rear.

It’s that, more than the horrified sound from everyone in the room, what shakes you out of it. You push him away and slap him, uncaring of the consequences. The crunch your hand makes when it hits his cheek is as satisfying as you had hoped for.

Aemond takes the hit with pursed lips. He stares at you, darkly.

“Forgive me, my Lady. For I could not contain my passion for you. Your letters have awakened…” The words, again, are spoken loudly. It’s very well executed. It would be impressive if it weren’t for the way you have just been thoroughly ruined.

Mutters break around the crowd. You can barely make out your father’s voice, calling your name. You gather your skirts and run out of the castle.

The first drops of rain against your skin feel cold and disorienting. Your vision is blurred, eyelashes wet. You are uncertain if it is from the tears or the rain.

“Are you insane?” Aemond is hot on your heels. His tone is one of concern. Bitterly, you wonder how much of it is for your audience and how much it’s for his own selfish desire to remain dry. “You are going to catch your death out here.”

“Leave me alone.” You shriek, turning towards him. Surprisingly, he is alone. Not even your father has gone after you. It only makes you feel worse. Does your father think less of you now? Does he think you are ruined, too?

You didn’t know it then. And you are hurting too much to think of it on your own. But Lord Hightower has advised your father to “Let the youngsters fix it on their own.” And being his vassal, he hasn’t been able to refuse.

Aemond steps closer, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. He seems remorseful. His eye is full of compassion for you. It does nothing to appease your anger. If anything, it only makes you want to slap him again. You lift your hand, ready to strike.

His fingers curl around your wrist. His grip is strong enough to stop you, yet not enough to hurt.

“Please.”

“How could you!” You scream, fingers twitching with the urge to slap at him and tear him apart. You want him to hurt. Hurt as much as you do.

Aemond’s grip on your wrist tightens. A warning. It betrays his real feelings. His face, instead, depicts only confusion. The gall.

“I thought… I thought…”

“Save it! I have known what game you're playing since the start, but I thought… Oh, more the fool to me, I guess.” Despite starting out angry, your tone quickly turns pitiful. You pinch the bridge of your nose.

“Game? What are you talking about?” Aemond keeps playing dumb. It makes your insides burn with fury. He could come clean now. There is no point in denying, the deed is already done. The Hightowers have their revenge. There is no point on stretching it further.

Unless… Unless he wants to salvage what he had with you. The hope that blooms in your heart makes you feel stupid. Oh, what a fool, what a fool you were. Thinking you had control over this, you were not in love.

If you were not, would it have hurt this much?

“I know this is a political ploy against my grandfather.” You answer, bitterly. How you long for him to deny it, yet you know it’s not coming. He is either going to lie or admit it, without any feelings of guilt. You wonder what’s that like. To be so self possessed, so convinced of your importance, you do not mind toying with other people to get what you want. “What’s next, then? How else will you two corner him so Princess Rhaenyra doesn’t become Queen?”

“I… You will marry me.” Aemond looks flabbergasted at being caught. The words are uttered in complete shock. For once, he is wordless. As if the thought of anyone discovering his plan was an unusual one. Good gods, how much of a fool did he think you were? He would have never even looked your way were it not for your grandfather’s position at court.

“No!” Because whatever this is, you won't allow him to ruin your life further. Marriage is too big of a commitment to enter with someone like him.

The rejection seems to finally break his patience because Aemond grabs your jaw, roughly.

“You sure seemed to want it, the past few weeks.” His eye glints dangerously. He leans in, trying to use his height to intimidate you. “You will marry me, make no mistake.”

“No! What is this, even?” You try to squirm out of his grasp, but Aemond refuses to budge. Your jaw throbs, slightly. He is starting to hurt you. You give a small yelp, trying to get Aemond to stop. “I thought we were friends.”

Aemond's grip on your jaw softens at the sound of pain. His shoulders drop, and his face turns apologetic.

“We were. We still are. But you need to understand, I am not playing. I want you.” His other hand comes up to gently brush your cheek. You do your best not to startle. “I love you.” His voice is sincere. He presses his forehead to yours, looking into your eyes. “I love you.” He repeats, pleadingly.

The words you so wanted to hear. But not like this, never like this. You start to tear up.

“You are playing me, again.”

“I am not.” Aemond kisses your cheek, your eyes, your temples. “Come. Give in. You can't say you don't want me. You need me. I know you do.”

He kisses your jaw, so tenderly you think you might start crying. It's a tempting offer. It would fix your now ruined reputation. Aemond would protect you from others. And you can tell, by the anger at your rejection, he does care about you.

But you can't trust him. Not now. How to know you are not being deceived again?

“I will never marry you.” You push him away, roughly. “I could never want someone like you.”

The words hurt him. You can see it in the way his face drops before his shoulders square up again. His hands grab at your arms, lips curling into a dangerous smile. When he speaks again, his voice is full of venom.

“We will see about that.” Aemond glares, and kisses you on the lips. It's a closed mouthed, cold thing. Then, glancing towards the path. You do too. Seems like your father has freed himself from Lord Hightower. “It seems I have overstayed my welcome. But worry not, betrothed. You will hear from me very soon.”

You do. Not even an hour later, a messenger gets there, carrying a letter from Otto Hightower, authorized by King Viserys. You are to marry Prince Aemond.

You are pretty sure your screams of rage would be heard even in the Red Keep.

“… She let him kiss her, though.” The voice carries through the walls, unmistakably feminine. Aemond lays his head on the arm of the loveseat he is on, groaning.

Why was it that every time he wanted a quiet moment to himself, someone decided to scream in the hallways? It was as if no one had heard about inside’s voices.

“More than kiss her, a lover’s embrace if cousin Oakheart is to be believed. She wrote to me as soon as she saw it.”

The mention of House Oakheart grabs his attention. Once he hears it, his annoyance vanishes, replaced by curiosity. Are these two gossiping about you?

Aemond closes his eye. He has found when he does, his sense of hearing gets more acute.

“No!” One of the women says, in mock shock. “You know, I always thought she was a bit… Wide.”

They can’t be insinuating what he thinks they are insinuating. He would never.

“Do you think..?” The other woman giggles.

Annoyed, Aemond rips out his eye patch and steps out of the sitting room. He looms by the door with crossed arms. It proves very satisfying, seeing them squeal in fear, bow and trip all over themselves in their haste to get away.

Aemond remains leaning against the door frame, giving a satisfied hum. A shame he can’t reprimand them. They didn’t even apologize for the slander they are spreading about you.

Currently, his feelings towards you are complicated. Your rejection stung, but he cannot help but be glad he gets to marry you anyway. It means he has a chance to win you over, again.

Aemond did it once already. How hard can it be to do it a second time? This time, his chances are much better. You are permanently stuck to him, after all. If necessary, he will ask for you two to share chambers after the marriage.

You were sent back to the capital. Aemond saw you arrive this morning, wearing a dark cloak that covered you from head to toe. Your shoulders were tense, and you kept glancing at your grandfather for reassurance, as if hoping that any time now, he was going to tell you it had all been a misunderstanding.

Next to you, Lord Beesbury was the picture of defeat. Never had your star risen so high, never has he been more powerless.

Aemond has heard all about his attempts to get you out of it. He has begged Rhaenyra to help you, but his sister has not. Lord Hightower, as the good overlord he is, refuses to let you out of the contract unless a better match is proposed. It’s an impossible task. There is no way for Rhaenyra to help you, short of betrothing Jacaerys to you.

His sister won’t do that. Not only are you already ruined by Aemond’s touch, but you are also no one in the great scheme of things. You will not help secure his claim to the Iron Throne, nor will you help to make him look less like a bastard.

As for you finding a better match than him, to Aemond seems like a highly unlikely possibility. What were you going to do, if not marry Jacaerys? The only other Prince he was aware of was Qoran Martell, and he was both too old and too proud for you.

Yes, things had fallen into place quite nicely. Aemond would even call himself happy, were it not for the fact that you are avoiding him and haunting the halls of the Red Keep as if a little ghost. Perhaps it’s a bit premature to say, but you seem eager on avoiding him.

Why were you so upset, really? You wanted him. He wanted you. It was a win-win situation. Most people didn’t get the luxury of marrying someone they loved or even liked. You should be ecstatic. Not only did you get to marry the man you loved, but he was also a prince, capable of protecting you. Talk of marrying up.

Even if you weren’t in love, it was an easy thing. Giving yourself to him in exchange for protection and care. A better life, and companionship. He wasn’t asking for anything more.

While the kiss in public might have been embarrassing for you, it had been a much kinder thing than what his grandsire had planned. You weren’t actually ruined, that was just what he had made everyone believe. Your maidenhead was intact.

If you had known since the start, as you claimed, there was no reason for you to be upset. Unless, of course, it was out of loyalty.

Loyalty is a motivation Aemond understands well. He is steadfast in defense of those he loves, like any dutiful man should be. But unlike you, he doesn’t let it cloud his judgment.

Aemond understands what it is like, not wanting to betray someone you love. He would never, no matter how much he and Aegon fight, let his brother be dealt with by Rhaenyra. He would protect Aegon until the last consequences. The same was true for Helaena and Daeron, even his mother and grandfather.

But the thing about his loyalty? It was corresponded. Aegon would fight for him, Aemond knew. The same for his mother and Helaena. Your grandfather had barely even fought for you. Were it his daughter, Aemond would have been knocking on the Martell’s door himself or trying to smuggle you out of Westeros.

Why be loyal to a man that couldn’t protect you? That wasn’t loyal to you? Aemond, as your future husband, would keep you safe until his dying day, and would make provisions for you even after his death. He would kill for you. Your grandfather, instead, had proven himself completely lacking in that department.

Aemond needs to mend things. He liked how you were before, witty and carefree. This woman who haunts the Red Keep, a shy thing, afraid of her own shadow, it’s not you. Unfortunately, there is no manual on regaining your lady’s favor. If that knowledge was in a book, Aemond would have acquired it already.

He goes for the next best thing. Advice.

“May I ask you something?”

Aegon sets down his cup. While the bedroom is not the ideal place for such a discussion, beggars can’t be choosers. Aemond deftly avoids the wrinkled sheets, and sits on his brother’s bed. On the clean side, of course.

“Yes? Since when do you ask permission?” Aegon leans back on his pillows, scratching his belly. “You didn’t even do that when entering my rooms. I could have been busy.”

Aemond fights off the urge to snort. Busy. Bedding a maid, perhaps. He doesn’t say it out loud, too worried Aegon might withhold whatever wisdom he has to spare.

“How do you get your paramours to stop being cross with you?” He says, instead. If anyone knew, it would be him. Women, mysterious as they were, never proved to be a hardship for his brother.

Aegon smiles.

“This is about your bee.” His tone rises a bit at the end of the sentence, teasingly. Aemond frowns, heats starting to heat up. He doesn’t like admitting weakness, but it isn't as if he has another choice here.

“Of course it is.” Aemond scoffs. “Now answer the damn question.”

“Aren’t you meant to disapprove of my paramours?” Aegon lays down on his side. “Pass me another blanket.”

Aemond rolls his eye, but obeys regardless. The more time he spends in Aegon’s presence, the harder it is for him to take his advice seriously. Perhaps this was not his best idea.

But who else to go to? His grandsire was already exhausted by the topic. His mother was angry, and so, Aemond had taken to skillfully avoiding her. He didn’t want a lecture. Even sweet Helaena had taken the time to reprimand him.

The only two people who were not angry at him were his uncle and Aegon. Daemon had even patted him on the back for it, saying that perhaps he was not as much of a cunt as his brothers were. Not exactly a glowing endorsement, but Aemond would take it.

Despite it, it was not like he could ask Daemon. First, he didn’t appreciate hearing Aegon and Daeron were cunts. Aegon sort of was, but it was not allowed for Daemon to say it. Second, Daemon thought what he had done was the right thing. Grab a woman you like and take what you want. It clearly showed the way the older generation thought.

A more modern approach was needed. One that came with an open mind and a bit more understanding of carnal urges. If any, Aegon wasn’t going to judge him. He had done much worse.

“Well, yes. Of course, I disapprove.” He mutters, half-heartedly. In truth, he doesn’t give a shit. It’s not like Aegon is ruining his reputation more than it already is, and the girls are all lowborns. No one cares about what happens to them.

“Yet you want the juicy details.” Aegon laughs. “Worry not, little brother. I will teach you all you need to know to please your little bee.”

Aemond, remembering quite traumatically what had happened the last time Aegon tried to teach him something in that area, shook his head.

“I don’t want the details of your bedroom activities. I just want my betrothed to stop being cross with me.”

Aegon cleared his throat, awkwardly. Whatever he had expected of this conversation, it was not this. He was clearly uncomfortable at the thought of regaining his lady’s favor. Perhaps, Aemond should have reminded earlier that his lady was his sister wife. It was a bit late to backtrack now, though.

Aegon’s cherub face started to turn red. “I do not have paramours, Aemond. I have whores. Money and gifts tend to do the trick. Give it a try.”

“She is not a whore!” Aemond protested, urged to defend your honor. Aegon gave him a pointed look, as if saying it was his fault. Which, fair. If all Westeros thought you were a whore, it was probably Aemond’s fault.

“Of course not.” Aegon squeezed his arm, trying to apologize for his harshness. “But she is a girl. Girls like shiny things, right?”

Without nothing to lose, Aemond decided to follow his brother’s advice. He started by sending you flowers. They were returned to his rooms, after you allegedly said the smell gave you headaches and made you sneeze.

Next, he tries with a slice of lemocake. You leave it on the tray, for the servants to take away back to the kitchens, with no explanations. Starting to get impatient, Aemond sends you a compliment filled letter and a pearl necklace that once belonged to his grandmother, on the Hightower side.

It’s then you make your own, belligerent little move. It happens late at night, after receiving the necklace.

“Prince Aemond.” A servant knocks on his door, meekly. While they are usually frightened of him, it’s highly unusual that it is to this degree.

“Yes?”

“Lady Beesbury sent you this.” The man places a tray near the foot of his bed and scurries out of the room.

“Wait!” Aemond calls out, but it’s too late. The servant is gone.

Aemond approaches the tray. On it, rests a pile of ashes. Among them, there is the pearl necklace. There is a note to go with it.

“Prince Aemond.” He reads, trying to understand your hurried writing. “Please kindly take the ashes of your letter and shove them right up… Oh!”

Your words anger him more than you could have hoped to. He marches out of his rooms, so angry, Aemond fears that if he catches you, he might strangle you. This constant rejection hurts. He is trying to mend things, but you don’t seem to want to mend the bridge between the two of you.

Lucky for you, you are not in your chambers. Or so the guard outside them says. Aemond storms towards the library and finds you there.

It's the first time in weeks he gets to gaze upon you. You hold yourself different, like a hurt animal. Your hair has lost a bit of its shine. No longer are you the happy and carefree girl you once were, rambling incessantly about bees. Instead, you sedately pour over a book on some insect or another, clearly preparing for Helaena’s lessons tomorrow.

You see him. You close the book. He crosses the distance between the two of you, and grabs your arm. Aemond is too angry to know what he is hoping to achieve. Perhaps, shake some sense into you?

But you flinch, and get a panicked look in your eyes. It’s then Aemond realizes exactly how badly he has gone wrong. Your sense of safety, your trust in him, it’s all shattered. No longer your eyes gaze upon him as if he is the greatest man in the world, but instead, they are fearful. As if waiting for him to pounce on you and force you, right here.

You slip out of his grip. Helpless, he lets you go, in absolute mutism. Aemond wants to grab you and force you to stay. He is angrier than he has ever been. Do not leave, he wants to scream. Do not leave and force me to make you stay.

Yet, even with your back turned, as you disappear into the hallway, Aemond can see the heartbroken look in your eyes. It plays again and again in his mind. So, instead of following, he goes to the only person who warned him that he was playing with fire and was about to get burned.

“Mother.” Aemond steps inside her chambers, the picture of defeat. He has not felt this humiliated since he was a child, being presented with the pink dread. “I fear have muddled everything up and have no idea how to fix it.”

His mother looks up from her prayer book. She closes it.

“Aemond. You utter fool.” Alicent places her book down. Despite her harsh words, she taps the space next to her invitingly.

Aemond sits next to her and allows her to gently embrace him. Just like when he was a child, he needs it. Too often in these past weeks, he has felt adrift, but was too proud to come ask for her help.

“I know.” Aemond didn't want to hear his mother tell him I told you so. Because she had, repeatedly. Besides, there was the fact of how terrible, how beastly the whole thing must seem to her.

Alicent is not dumb, after all. She is the daughter of Otto Hightower. She knows something is amiss. And his mother has a weakness for young ladies in tough spots, especially for ones from the Reach.

The care you had shown for Helaena had been enough to win her over. The longing you had shown for him, enough to make her pity you.

Knowing both Aemond and her father, she had not taken long to understand this was a multi-layered plot.

“I will not pity you, Aemond. You knew tricking her would hurt her. And now you trapped her into a marriage she doesn’t want.” His mother rubs his back, soothingly. Her tone remains scolding, which is precisely what Aemond deserves. By the Seven, how could he be so blind? Not only has he disappointed you, but also his mother.

Still, it is not like it is so terrible. We are not talking here of an old man forcing a young woman to marry him, or of a cruel act of coercion and abuse. You had been in love with him, after all. Aemond had just… Hurried things along.

“She does!”

“Does she?” His mother arches an eyebrow. Suddenly, Aemond's resolve and security wavers. Did you truly not want to marry him? His mother, unaware of how much turmoil she is causing, keeps speaking. “You did something terrible.”

“You got married like that.” Aemond half says, half pleads. It's the wrong thing to do. Alicent's face turns gray. “What would you have wanted father to do?”

“I wish someone had apologized to me.” His mother looks away. “A real apology. A nice one.”

And Aemond gets the sense they are no longer talking about Viserys.

“I am so sorry, mother.” Aemond says, softly. “For everything.”

It’s late. You are sitting inside your chambers, the door wide open. To prevent any more rumors from swirling around. You feel miserable. Your wedding has been moved up by Lord Hightower.

You try to focus on your reading, but the words all seem blurred away. Your eyes are full of tears. Despite having the door open, you are not ashamed of your crying. You deserve to feel sorry for yourself.

It is in that state that Aemond finds you. He enters without knocking, and awkwardly clears his throat.

“You weren’t announced.” You say, dumbly. You wish you could do more. Insult him, perhaps. Yet, you can’t because now your destiny is tied to him. Your grandfather has made it very clear, that while you are allowed to make your displeasure known, you can’t enrage Aemond. Not only would it be bad for your health, now that you are little more than property, but it would hurt the rest of your family.

The stunt with the burned letters had earned you a thorough scolding. “Make the best of a bad situation.” Your grandfather had said. “The boy loves you, but he won’t wait forever.”

And he was right. Whatever you had with Aemond could turn even worse if you drove him to resentment. There was no way out of this. Being angry wouldn’t help. You had decided to forgive him. It didn’t mean you weren’t going to make him work for it, though.

“I thought it would be worse.” Aemond speaks again, pulling you out of your musings. What was he talking about, again? Ah. Being announced.

“Perhaps.” You keep reading your book, uninterested.

“Won’t you even look at me, Lady Beesbury?”

You pass another page in your book. Childish, but effective. Aemond sighs. Then, he kneels in front of you. The dull thud of his knees against the rock floor makes you look up. His face is pained.

“Are you alright?” You ask, slowly. You close your book. By the sound of it, it must have hurt.

“Just fine.” But his face is pained.

“Should I get you a rug? Or fetch a Maester?” You get up, intent on exiting the room. It’s as good an excuse as any. You can’t bear to look at him. Not now. Not ever.

You are too afraid of snapping at him. Or starting to cry.

“Stop trying to run from me, dammit.” His voice is raised. Angry. Loud. The guards on your door peer inside, curiously.

Aemond’s eye is narrowed in annoyance. He stays on his knees. It’s that, perhaps, what makes you stop and linger inside the room. As you close the door, your hands shake.

“I beg you forgive me, my Lady. For I have been the biggest of fools.” The words come out in a tumble, rehearsed. Almost as if they were word vomit, more than something he sincerely means. You eye him warily.

“What are you doing?”

“I have broken something sacred, but I hope I can mend it still. If you were so gracious as to allow me to court you again.” Aemond keeps at it, tone flat. You frown even more. It sits wrong with you, as if this apology it’s just part of his plan. It doesn’t feel genuine.

“What use is it? We have to get married anyway. Your grandfather won’t stand for anything else. Nor will the Queen.” You spit out, between clenched teeth. You want to slap him so bad your palms itch for it. Yet, you can’t. Not if you intend to survive this.

“I… I know.” And in that pause, that small stumble in his words, you finally find what you need. A hint of sincerity, of the fragile human that hides behind his armor. “But you flinched when I touched you.”

His voice is pleading. The flinch it’s not something you remember doing. It was a reflex. A passing gesture. You guess it must have been when you met at the library. But no matter that you can’t pinpoint when it happened, it clearly was significant to him. Your fear had rattled him deeply.

Aemond bows his head. His posture is slouched down, so supplicant on his knees, his forehead would touch the ground if he were to lean down any further. It’s a sad sight. Much like a kicked puppy. If puppies were murderous, dishonorable beasts, of course.

No. You have to resist. Aemond certainly didn’t show you any compassion when you were suffering. He just expected you to bounce right back, plaster a smile on your face and pretend nothing happened. Pretend you were honored that he tricked you into marriage.

“Another trick? What for?” You start to pace. “How else will you trap my grandfather?”

“Not to trap your grandfather, my Lady.” Aemond reaches a hand to touch the skirts of your dress. The image remembers you of something, deep and jarring. The way dirty children in the slums of King’s Landing would reach towards Lords and Ladies, begging for a coin. It turns your anger into sadness. You stop your pacing and face him.

“It would still trap him.” It’s said in a subdued tone. Just facts, nothing else.

“I would keep you safe.” He hugs your legs and in truth, it shows how much Aemond doesn’t understand you. Here he is, pleading for you to stay, thinking guaranteeing your safety will be enough. As if when his father dies, it will be enough to whisk you away from the front lines, as if it’s not going to be two of the people you love the most on opposing sides.

Because you love him. Only now you are willing to admit it, but it’s undeniable.

“It’s not enough.” You start to tear up, much to your dismay. “Not enough. Aemond, for the Seven’s sake. No… I can’t.”

Aemond stays quiet for a few seconds, still hugging your legs. His head leans against your thigh. You stay there, frozen.

“I know I do not deserve your forgiveness. But I intend to earn it regardless.” He pulls away and takes his dagger out of his belt. He offers it to you by the handle. “Take it.”

You stare at him, jaw slack. What does he want you to do with the dagger?

“Take it, little bee.” His face is determined. His eye meets yours without any hint of fear.

You take the dagger with a shaky hand. Since the pommel it’s what’s offered to you, as soon as you take it, it’s as if you are holding Aemond at dagger point.

“Actions speak louder than words, right?” He laughs a little, but it sounds off. Too nervous. “You deserve a real apology.”

“And you intend to do so as I threaten you?”

“You hold all the power now. Was it not what you wanted?” And it sounds so damn cocky, coming from him. When he could have you flat on your back if he so wished. You had seen him train with Ser Criston. No matter if you hold the dagger, he has all the control.

You scoff.

“Let’s not delude ourselves. There is still a power dynamic between…”

“So?” Aemond interrupts, and it pushes you beyond your breaking point. You press the dagger to his throat, a hand on his hair, pulling back his head in an almost punishing grip.

“You are our overlords, Aemond.” He goes with the motion, not fighting your grip. It feels good, to have him kneeling and scared for once, even if it’s all pretense. You force his back to arch, almost cruelly.

“It concerns you. And it’s only right. It shows me that you are smart. I wouldn’t have fallen for a fool.” His voice sounds a bit breathless, his pale complexion rapidly coloring. His lips part, his pupil is blown wide. Aemond is not afraid, no. He is aroused.

“Yet you would have married her anyway.” You dig the dagger deeper into his skin, almost breaking it. He pants slightly, but looks at you in defiance.

“I am giving you a choice. I won’t marry you, if that’s not what you want.”

“Oh, if it were up to me, I would leave you standing alone on the Sept.” It’s cruel, you know it is. Your stomach twists at the change in his expression, and you feel filled with the urge to comfort him. From playful to absorbing the blow. Aemond’s eye closes. “I would rather not let your grandfather get the upper hand. But you ruined me already. It’s an impossible dilemma. You backed us into a corner.”

At that, Aemond perks up. You know him enough by now to know he is a problem solver. He delights in thinking himself the smartest in the room, the one that can figure out the ways out of a tricky situation, make the puzzle pieces fit.

Helaena has told you he has always been like this. Proud of his intellect. As a child, he had been brave, bold. But a childhood without a dragon had made for a lonely one, and so, he had delighted in games of wit and inventiveness. He excelled at Cyvasse, too. How much was him, you wondered? How much was the need to prove himself worthy?

“There is no way out of the labyrinth, you say?”

“Yes. I suppose.” You agree because you have spent hours thinking, praying, obsessing over this. There is no way out. Nothing can mend the rift between the two of you. Nothing that can make this a relationship of equals and not a relationship of Liege Lord and the daughter of a Vassal.

“There is”.

And then, he leans in and whispers something in your ear. A secret. Something so bad, it makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

“And does your grandfather..?”

“No. But I am willing to put it in writing.”

He has just given you the key to the ruin of Otto Hightower. The dagger drops out of your hand, falling to the floor with a dull thud. Neither of you pay it any mind, too engrossed with looking at each other’s eyes.

“You know hold the power of life and death over me, my Lady. It’s in my hope that this will keep you safe and that you will forgive me, one day. But even if you don’t, I will not force you to share my bed.”

“You did a terrible thing.” You brush a piece of hair behind his ear, softly. His eye closes, delighting in the touch.

“I was a fool.” He was. He is still. But there is a path out of this, you know it. The secret he shares is not enough to afford your family’s neutrality in the war to come, but it is enough to ensure that whatever sacrifice Otto Hightower asks of you is a minor one.

If you manage to earn Aemond’s loyalty, of course. If you do not, he will not protect you from his grandfather when you make your move.

“You were.” You drop to your knees too, legs spread over him. Straddling his lap. Overall, it’s not about love, but practicality. You do love him, and you do feel hurt and raw still, but you need to move forward if you want to keep your head. “I have not forgiven you, yet.”

“But it’s a start?”

“It is.” Aemond hugs you to him. He peppers your face and neck with kisses, before hiding his face on the soft curve where shoulder meets neck. As you melt against him, you cannot help but feel as if you are the one who is moving the Cyvasse’s pieces now.

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sawyerconfort · 10 months

Text

enjoy the silence | lorraine broughton x fem! reader

I am back! Finally, I hope you didn't mind my disappearance. I decided to take a little break from the stories because I felt like I really needed to rest, and I was running out of creativity. I also went traveling this weekend and didn't have time to write as I had planned, but anyway, I'm back and that's what matters!

As I said in the previous post, I will be focusing this week on writing multifandom oneshots, and maybe an ask or two will be answered over the weekend, so those of you who sent in asks, please be patient with me, as always!

Well, taking into account the lack of stories about her, and taking into account that in the last few weeks I gained a boost of obsession with Charlize Theron, let's do a oneshot with Lorraine!

This is fem!reader, but if you feel comfortable adjusting your pronouns in it as you read, feel free!

Enjoy!

Requests open!

*Atomic Blonde is such a badass movie, oh gosh, I can't!*

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

Premise: As you tend to Lorraine's wounds, some things become crystal clear between you. Things that had apparently been kept secret for a long time…

***

You were used to being alone after all the other male members left. It was your most precious moment of peace, when none of them were making fun of you or making sexual comments about you. It was the only time, as one of the top MI6 officials, when you could be silent, focusing on things other than missions, The List or anything else that risked your life.

Turns out that night, it was different. You were concentrating on an electrifying chapter of your science fiction book, when you heard the door slamming loudly. A low, whispered curse and you turned, taking the book out of your eyes to look at who it was.

The thing is, you never took the time to talk to her personally and properly. Lorraine Broughton was one of MI6's most gifted and well-known spies, and newcomers joked that she had been with them since their beginnings in the Stone Age.

Someone of extreme importance like Lorraine apparently didn't have time to listen to your bullshit.

Your eyes met and she took off the black collar that covered her mouth, her platinum hair giving extreme emphasis to her scarred face.

"Good evening, agent (Y\LN), I thought there was no one here."

Hell, she knew your last name! How was that possible?

"I was just leaving, Lorraine, don't worry," you said, trying to sound at least reasonable so as not to cause a fuss with her. But then, as soon as you got up, you noticed her ripped pants, a hideous trickle of blood running down one part of her leg, and her face streaked with red streaks and very swollen.

She looked back at you, the weight of those pale eyes taking over you, and then, your voice was categorical, hoping she wasn't going to dump your ass, not this time.

"Need some help tending to those wounds? They look pretty bad…"

She looked at you, and with the same restful face, she shook her head. "Don't waste your time, I'm fine. It happens all the time."

"Lorraine, your leg is bleeding. We better look into this."

"Don't worry, (Y\N), go home, I can take care of myself."

You chuckled, already being aware of her stubbornness. Lorraine was good when she wanted to outsmart someone in an interrogation, especially the guys in the company, but you weren't interrogating her this time, so she didn't have to act so defensive.

Deciding not to let her go without tending to her wounds, you hurried out and opened one of the cupboards in the cold, dark corridor of the office. The sound of the creaking door obviously got Lorraine's attention because everything was extremely loud in that dark office. Grabbing a first-aid kit, which was only used in emergencies by high-ranking men, you pulled out a chair and gestured for her to sit down.

"I already told you I'm fine, (Y\N), I can take ca-"

"Sit down, please." You didn't mean to sound domineering, but it was unavoidable.

Lorraine rolled her eyes and sat up, legs spread, not intending to cross them. She wasn't going to make the job easy for you, but of course it wasn't a problem anymore. You opened the first aid kit and took out some gauze, cotton and bandages.

"Please, let's not turn this whole thing into a moment of silence, if you want, tell me how you managed the feat of getting all screwed up…", you said, gently swiping the cotton wool over her eyes and lips. , cleaning the blood.

Lorraine gasped and pressed her lips together, feeling the pain of the contact. "Are you sure you work for a spy team, (Y\N)?" You rolled your eyes as she took a deep breath. "It was a chase. Several guys shooting. One of them threw me on the glass table and I ended up cutting myself… not new to me, really."

You continued to gently dab cotton and gauze over the bruises, and her clear, intimidating eyes never left her face as you did so. It was even uncomfortable to look at, such beauty, staring back at you as if it were something normal.

"And how are the guys doing?" you asked curiously, determined to keep her distracted - and to keep you distracted too.

"Dead, I guess. It's not news to me either, they would keep chasing me if they lived and I needed to get rid of them to save my skin…"

You nodded, at the same time that you bent down to get some ointment from the first aid kit and began to run your fingers along Lorraine's injured leg, the blood still very fresh where the glass had probably been stuck. She's lucky she didn't hemorrhage, you thought absently.

"Is that really necessary?!", Lorraine exclaimed, pulling you out of her thoughts, her voice very firm and a hiss of discomfort escaping her lips.

"Unless you want to catch a bacteria, maybe," you replied in the same tone. She laughed and rolled her eyes.

"Okay, okay, you call the shots," she snapped. "Look, it's actually really weird that we've never crossed paths, (Y\N), you seem to know what you're doing."

You nodded, getting up, closing the ointment and putting it back in the first aid kit, as you sat on the edge of Lorraine's chair, her legs keeping your body steady.

"It's hard to come across an agent that the boys keep like a precious jewel inside a password safe…"

She laughed again, and only then did you stop to notice that her smile was beautiful. Your heart missed a beat, but you didn't know if it was envy or some much deeper feeling… And before you knew it, you pushed those thoughts away, afraid of the answer.

Whatever the case, Lorraine Broughton was not the type of person you thought was ideal for the type of person you were. Not as friendship. You could only support yourself within the walls of offices, and despite being called an agent, you were afraid to even fly a plane.

"Is it over yet?", she woke you up from your thoughts again, looking at you with a playful smile. "Yeah, it wasn't so bad after all."

"Yeah, but that's because the bad part starts now!", you said, holding the bandages, which were those children's animal bandages. "You can choose between the giraffe bandages, or the flower bandages, you call the shots, Lorraine."

The smile faltered on your lips as she frowned, clearly confused and uncomfortable, not sure if it was a joke or not.

"Seriously?" she said in disbelief. "Who let the guys buy this?"

You shrugged. "Make a choice, Lorraine."

"I'd rather go without bandages."

"Ah, come on! You're going to make a childhood dream come true! Your inner child is crying out for it, go ahead, choose one!"

"Okay, the giraffe one then.", Lorraine said, in a monotone voice, as if she knew she would regret it the moment she left the office and walked down the street. You laughed, calmly sticking the bandages on her wounds and caressing the skin with your fingers, to fix them better.

That took Lorraine by surprise. Until then, she hadn't known that she could feel that same electricity from a simple touch. She looked back at you, and allowed herself to relax as you finished gluing them all together. At the end, you noticed her look and bit your lip, also caught off guard, completely embarrassed.

"You're free, Lorraine. Now you can even take off the bandages while I'm not looking, I know you're going to do that…", you said, joking, just to ease the tension. But it didn't help much.

Her eyes were too bright in the dim light, and that perfect, even bruised face that looked as if it had been sculpted by angels only made it worse. You were extremely tense and nervous around her, and not in your best dreams, did you imagine that you would feel this way with Lorraine, when you saw her.

"Thank you, (Y\N). And I'm sorry, I think I've been quite rude to you in the meantime, you just wanted to help me get better."

"I don't mind, I'm used to agents' patience…", you laughed again. And he got up, going to put the suitcase back in the closet and close it properly, so that none of the others would notice that you had even touched it.

Lorraine was still staring at you when you looked back at her, and a smile graced her interested expression.

"How long have you been working with us, (Y\N)?", she asked, her deep voice dropping to almost a whisper in the silence between you.

You stopped to think, to remember, to count on your fingers, as you went back and sat in the small space of her chair, as before. Not to tease her, it's just because that was her usual chair and you had this habit of taking possession of things.

"A few months. Five, I think… I'm not good with numbers and dates…", you explained, laughing. Lorraine nodded. "Before you ask, this definitely wasn't the plan since I was a kid, but it seemed to me that I had a knack for it when I had my first experience here, so… yeah, maybe it was nice to get this job."

Lorraine nodded again. "And are you happy here?"

"I think so. I'm sure I do, actually. I don't think I fit in anywhere else right now, honestly."

"That's good, this work is not very easy, there are few people who manage, in the natural order of things, to stay for so long."

Lorraine was still looking at you, and nervousness was still very much present in her body language as she did so.

"And do you have… a boyfriend, (Y\N)?"

You frowned, caught off guard.

"Sorry, that was a weird question."

"No, I don't have a boyfriend", you replied, shaking your head. "It wasn't a weird question, you're just trying to get to know me better…"

Lorraine nodded again, scratching her forehead and looking at you, intent on knowing more. "And are you looking for someone? Or are you completely focused on work right now?"

"Ah, MI6 is my life, yes, but I wouldn't mind breaking that routine to find someone I can share my days with, you know…"

Lorraine looked away, and oddly enough, you noticed that there was a flush in her cheeks. Now, that was something you would never have thought to see, not in Lorraine Broughton.

"You say "someone", so… is someone really someone?"

"Are you asking me about my sexuality?"

Lorraine shrugged. "You don't have to answer that if you don't want to."

"No, I don't have a problem with that, I… I'm open to experimenting, actually. I want something that takes me off my feet, and makes me see whether or not it's worth risking everything."

Lorraine nodded again and her eyes glued to your lips. The tension became even more palpable between you, and when she took the opportunity that you were close to pull you close, seeing that you were going to fall out of the chair if you went any farther back, her inner will spoke louder and she kissed you, absolutely nothing, without expecting you to respond.

If it was someone else, you would have walked away and slapped that person across the face, but that didn't happen with Lorraine. You were so surprised when she kissed you that you just responded. She thought maybe that would ease the tension of the moment, that it would make it easier for you to talk, and she was so beautiful it was impossible to resist.

She was the one who pulled away first, gasping for air, and she opened her clear, beautiful eyes to look at you, her hand hesitating between your hip and your leg.

"Sorry, I really don't know why I did that, I…" she started, but you cut her off, your index finger on her wet lips.

"No, that's fine, I enjoyed it… and actually… I think I'd like to do it again, if you don't mind…"

She laughed and kissed you again, this time letting the moment flow by itself, last as long as it should. You were being drawn, like magnets, to each other's lips, and now it was impossible to break the contact. Lorraine's charm didn't help either, and she ended the kiss after a few seconds with a peck on your cheek.

"Well, I better get going now that you don't need me…" you said, feeling all awkward and embarrassed. Lorraine got up and let go of your hips, and just as you were about to walk through the door, she called out her name.

"Don't you want a ride home, (Y\N)? I think it's too late for us to walk alone…", her voice was full of ulterior motives, and as much as you would love to take things easy, have the chance of a lifetime with Lorraine Broughton made you want to find out where this was going to go.

To be honest, you were under the impression that you wouldn't regret it.

#lgbt #romance #oneshot #imagine #atomic blonde #lorraine broughton x reader #charlize theron #charlize theron x reader #angst #fluff #i was thinking about doing this with a smut but i changed my mind #i mean i'm not too good at smuts and i didn't want to mess this up #lorraine broughton is so daddy coded it's such a crime #wish she was my spy girlfriend btw

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 10 months

Note

AITA for treating some people they way they treated me?

Sorry for bringing twitter drama and for the long ask.

I'm autistic-ADHD and have some past traumas regarding friendships, it's difficult for me to understand some "normal" things as I've been told. Normal things like not replying to a friend for weeks or months, not interacting unless they need something, keeping mutuals despite never interacting etc go over my head. These are all traits of "adult friendship" according to some and we're raised differently I suppose. I'm not talking about forgetting to reply or being busy, I'm also a busy adult and I forget to reply too so please don't feel defensive about that.

I have some mutuals who do all that I mentioned above, but there are 2 people who go Out Of Their Way to not interact with me. They'd go directly to posts I share to retweet, they'd ignore my messages, my own tweets, my replies to them, my replies to Their Questions under My Tweets, any qrt to their tweets.. just all of it, as if they have me blocked.

This had been happening long before For you page became a thing, years of this and no I wasn't shadowbanned my other mutuals interacted just fine. I was probably muted, but they'd share posts that I know wouldn't be on their tl unless they saw me share, trust me on this.

I didn't realize people did this "cool moot" thing until I saw others on twitter talking about how some popular or wannabe popular accounts do this so that You don't feel too important, so you know it's all casual, so that their rare interactions are treasured.

Let's say we 3 had X fandom in common.

These two mutuals, one was new and really invested in X fandom before we met. She barged into my life and said "We Have to be friends!" weeks before she started ignoring me.

The other one, from my country, had been mutual for over a year, and we shared a bunch of fandoms before X came to existence. So we had good reasons to get closer as friends, there was no reason to not respond to me sending normal fanarts and meta stuff, yet xe acted like I was invisible. No indication that my once or twice a week messages, gradually decreasing, were making xem uncomfortable.

What hurt most is how xe'd be all "my mutuals are my besties", "only 10 people from this country's X fandom has braincells and we're always screaming in group chat". Meaning I wasn't even remembered let alone be in xer group.

With xem I felt like I was just there so xe could keep a "trusted" fellow fan in xeir list, as in 'have similar taste, live in the same country, and isn't a bigot'. I've had other mutuals tell me that they did this, keep "trusted" accounts as mutuals, in those cases I didn't mind because of course I wanted the same and we actually talk to each other.

After I figured out I got upset and appalled. I muted the 2 for some time, if I needed to I went and shared posts they retweeted from source without interacting with them. Nobody messaged each other. If you mute on twitter you still get notification for likes, replies etc and I got none from them in that time. After a couple months I quietly softblocked them.

The older mutual tried to follow again because xe thought it was a glitch but I locked xem out. This is the reason I feel a little bad, but xe could have interacted in the whole year we were in X fandom together.

So this is how I lost two mutuals, was I an ass for the months I treated them like that? I doubt they noticed either way.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole #oh twitter drama is on like. another LEVEL entirely huh

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my-rose-tinted-glasses · 6 months

Text

Non BL Fan watches Only Friends - Part II (Part I)

Ok. So it turns out that although I had to convince them to watch this show and share some thoughts with me, Neely really committed to the bit and is now enjoying the writing part more than the show. When I first talked to them about this, they said it would take 2/3 weeks to watch all of it. Turns out they watched 9 episodes in 3 days. And they already finish the show by the time this gets posted. So the final part of this will come soon.

So, they wrote a lot about episodes 5 - 9. And I haven't really been able to catch up to them so this time I won't be adding to it. Also, this is gonna be a bit long so if you want more general view of their thoughts on the show so far, skip to the end, to the conclusion. They separated it more or less by character so I'll add titles so it gets easier to read.

Neely's thoughts episodes 5 through 9 Just quick notes first:

It's creepy to me that Top's Halloween costume is a us army uniform 😬 🚩🚩🚩🚩🚩🚩🚩🚩

I'm glad Chueam had a little bit more presence, even if just as supporting act.

I’m annoyed at this thing of framing Ray as taking Mew on "a bad path" as if Mew has no agency. Mew just spent ages teasing Top with no sex and in that relationship he had all the agency, and felt able to put his boundaries, but now he can't refuse alcohol and drugs? Ofc it's reactive to what happened, but so is Ray's usage and nobody seems to give him the same credit or patience. That said, Ray is being a lil bitch in his pursuit of Mew and how he reverted into treating Sand with entitlement.

Now longer:

Boston

Boston just keeps one uping himself, at this point he's just going for asshole so at least he's not pretending, and to me, he's on a league of his own; the "girl"boss, gatekeep, gaslight self-made villain of the series. But also, what I realise has been paining me in this portrayal is - and I think this happens in other media with so-called 'sluts' - that there's a difference between being a slut and the very reality of sex addiction as an illness. And media often does this muddled mix of both, where it's not really an addiction in how they show it because often the reality of that is too much to be representing on your average TV, but it's also not being a slut. I just wanna say: sluts are happy most times. Fucking is nice, it's not always a speed-train to self-destruction, it can be about curiosity and playfulness and desire. It can be intimate and caring and genuine, even if it's a one-night stand. Sluts don't so often feel remorse about fucking people, because they are not suddenly controlled by some demonic entity of lust that cannot reject fucking even if it blows away all of their life and surroundings; sluts actively choose to fuck because they want to fuck. AND 7/10 TIMES IT IS NICE! Sluts also are not always ready and willing for actions with anyone - they have tastes and standards and preferences like most people. Boston has rejected 0 people in this show until now, and more often than not he has regretted that sex, or it has been ultimately destructive to him or people he loves, and now he fucks Chueam's brother and very clearly we start the next episode with a strong guilt scene.

I just wouldn't call Boston a slut, he's maybe a sex addict, or using sex for numbing the pain of repressing his sexuality to his dad - in a parallel to how Ray uses substances to numb his own family stuff. Sluts are some of the nicest people I've met, cause also to do that respectfully you do have to have good people skills and empathy, sex is about knowing how to relate so you do get good at...relating in general, even non-sexually. But yeah, my defense of ethical random sex for another time.

Of course there's lots of gay men, especially those who are repressed in some way (like Boston is with his dads campaign and having to hide his sexuality because of it) that end up using sex in this toxic way, as well as for validation, power, a sense of control, or just this detachment that ultimately comes from deep internalised homophobia and a sense of not deserving real intimacy and tenderness and love. Again, I think that's very real within gays - I'd say maybe my experience within western (- socialised) communities, that's often a pattern I notice more in older gays, like 40 on - generations who felt AIDS and criminalization and mortality in a way we cannot begin to imagine. So maybe within a Thai context it's more common that this repression and reaction to repression is still common in younger gay men? I don't know enough about this; I'm also mostly in quite progressive (gender-)queer communities in very out-there European queer centres, so maybe more trad western gays despite generation might feel this. Here, I wouldn't consider this group of friends trad-gays. But again, underlining all my own statements here is that cultural context possibly impacts this reading a lot and I won't pretend to know queer-thai pov.

But that's how I'm justifying this from my angle. Boston's not a slut, we gathered as a council in an emergency meeting and he has surpassed the max levels of regret and guilt and self-destruction we are allowed post-sex on a monthly basis. I'm positioning him as either sex addiction or using sex to numb pain, or both - an addiction grown from his family situation and hiding who he is. I think there's a nice parallel between his story and rays that I'm tentatively enjoying as an audience. Both are very real in the gay world too, I'd say.

Mew

I liked the confrontation scene where Mew played the track during sex. I also liked Mew's very 'meh' revenges - I think it suits the character, felt a bit too much ado about nothing, but while still being cruel. Like the burning of the paper but in a way it didn't actually trigger Top, so it's quite mean and malicious but with no real effect; and the same with Boston where he goes through all the effort of getting that fucking video to confront him and scare him and then just gives it to him, nothing happens, no effect. But still almost genuinely malicious. I think it suits the character, Mew is incredibly beige and non-eventful, a personification of a yawn but with tints of malevolence. Just think of the build up of virginity and the importance giving to losing it, and then uneventfully he looses it in a flash because Top emptied a baggy of coke. He's not concerned with actually doing or not doing a thing, he wields his full power as a character in withholding until he feels he can't withhold anymore, until he will gain more from giving that from holding back, this was proven to me even by how he was initially scared he'd lose Top for being inexperienced at sex, and when he decides to do it, he calls Boston and directly says "i feel like he'll get bored of me if I don't".

I imagine he will do the same with taking Top back; he's gonna extend it as much as he can. He weaponizes this type of power, having something someone else wants, and holding that against them: I think you can see this with Ray, with Top, now with Boston. So I liked his revenge gimmicks as a spectator, and I was glad it avoided us audiences witnessing him forcing Boston to come out; nobody needs to see that ever but let alone in the middle of this chaos, it would be too far on the unhinged scale for me.

Top

I'm still not buying Top. The way he is being acted just comes across so two-faced to me; and I don't know if that's purposefully trying to tell me something or if I have a wrong reading of the actors expressions and gaze.

But Top and his attempts at making amends... I get it, its meant to be sweet and caring towards Mew, but he's still holding on to this toxic controlling side most times. Like at the beginning of the post-break up he's trying to act all sad puppy for Mew but he's also still running away blaming everything for his own mistake instead of taking responsibility, including visiting Boston to blame him and yell at him.

When he comes to give Mew books as apology gift he says "I'm here cause I'm his boyfriend" and I'm like... 👀 Again I think some people might find that sweet but it gives me the ick, it gives me controlling partner, it gives me gaslighting, is toxic - you're broken up, acknowledge your mistake, acknowledge that the person ended things with you, and start making amends from that place.

It also didn't sit well with me that he cuddled Mew when Mew was passed out drunk. Yes cute nice caring to put him in bed and, ok, sure, pass a wet towel on his face and neck if you want, and I can even hold my side-eye and skip a breath at taking his trousers for comfort but.. this person told you almost halfway through a vomit to leave, don't stay and cuddle him as if you're still "boyfriends"; consent for that has been very clearly renounced.

I find him a bit coercive, in this way that is very common in romantic media troupes. Like I'm always on edge when he's on screen cause I feel he could be Joe Goldberg from YOU or something if shown from his perspective (sorry for another netflix comparison). But I'm open to being criticized on that because YOU did just taint my reading of every attempt at more traditional gentlemen romantic character on TV.

Sand

Poor Sand :(

Ok also unnecessary to seek revenge in that way and telling ray about the recording was oh so stupid. He did ultimately caused everyone's chaos without actually being direct about it and in a way that ended up implicating everyone; and he was our most wholesome character, so that didn't pass unnoticed to me but still...

Poor sand :(

I was happy with how quickly and undramatically and genuinely he apologized to Nick and supported Nick and assumed his mistake. Hands down the most genuine principled character in this series in both romantic love and friendship.

Ray

Personally I very very much feel Ray tho. Pursuing this infatuation that is nothing but your own projection after a person has repeatedly rejected you both with and without a partner, both 2 years ago and a few weeks/months ago. - instead of someone you have gotten to know and be intimate with and you're falling for reciprocally. Like been there, it feels stupid and embarrassing to watch, but also, I feel him. To desire this dream you've been feeding in the midst of years of trauma and addiction and feeling aimless in life, he had fed this so so much as if it was his only way out of the cycle, his only salvation, that of course it holds more influence still in him than the very real possibility of mutual love & care with Sand.

We could've had a mature poly maybe, if he is really so adamant of "I can have feelings for two people", but I don't really trust that in his state, and anyway if so, do it with respect. Instead he just drops Sand and goes back to treating him a bit like he is service, or guaranteed, or like he can buy him. The way Sand got into that bath tub after Ray broke his arm and he went to help him recover, baby nooo get out of there cmon.

Also on Ray.. I wanted to point out that while he was with Sand he became so much better as a person, less messy, less entitled, he opened up. But in no way did he stop drinking.

I'm not arguing that drinking that much is a good thing, it definitely isn't good and he should work towards calming it down. but he keeps being blamed for drinking alcohol, and like alcohol is destroying his life, but actually alcohol is more a consequence than a cause (as often is). He was drinking and drunk and doing drugs with Sand, but he was held, and he was relating, cared for, and he was turning out to be a genuinely nice person. Yes I think he could learn how to give better care back to Sand, even in their best moments, but I believe he was on a right path.

The chaos within him returns when the whole Mew infatuation is triggered again. And this makes sense - he drinks because he was always rejected by his family, importantly so, his mother. Mew is a continuation of that rejection, Mew is what his destructive depressive side keeps feeding on to tell himself he is worthless, that he doesn't deserve to be loved, that he will always be rejected. He has deep abandonment and rejection trauma, exacerbated but not started by alcohol. And sadly, he is surrounded by people in their own individualistic, predominantly romantic treadmills, that do not know how to be friends. His main issue is not getting intoxicated by alcohol, is being drowned in a fairly toxic "friend" group. And this is another example of why this show cannot write good relationships that aren't monogamous and romantic, and will always privilege those. Sand is the saving romance to what friendship in this universe will never be powerful enough to heal. And I find this overall message of 1-1 romantic love trumps everything, that is drilled into the essence of this show, deeply problematic. But more on that later.

Nick

Nick..........................

I don't know really. It's too much

It's so delusional poor guy.

It's too much for me to relate I think. I relate to the overwhelmingness of feeling, and I appreciate the representation of a deep feeler in this series and within queers or gays. Like he really said I will sob snort for this boy. But on the grand scheme of: wire-tapping Boston’s car, listening to the recording on what looked like noise canceling headphones, begging for him to stay, messaging and stalking the party... But also - giving Mew the info about AND the name of the person with Boston's sextape? He's so lost, no action he takes has a logic sense in any goal or narrative.

And I think it's cause he's lost between his good ethics and values and his obsessive infatuation for Boston. He's also generally too much of a puppet for everyone, he's lost and deranged for a boy who gave him not only crumbs but a tiny amount of crumbs about to get moldy. I found his fall into heartbreak and desperation so cringe to watch, and I felt really both sad and pity and shame for him - it was almost empathizing at one point cause we all have been played to some extent, but it went too far for me to be able to relate. But I feel for him, and also, I eye-roll for him in equal measure.

Chueam

I'm still disappointed with not getting proper Chueam content, and a story line that doesn't revolve around the messy gays. I would love if we had left the misogynist troupe of the fag-hag in the 90s and early-2000s (I know she's a lesbian, but still), and started treating women and giving them attention and stories, and defining them for themselves over being some balance or moral compass for the men. That would be much more queer, even if she was straight, than whatever this background lesbianism they went for, it's giving Willow in Buffy but set in G-A-Y Late (gay club in London, substitute for your own gay club reference).

Generally, to conclude, and sorry it's so long cause I don't feel like editing:

There's a few things that are becoming quite apparent to me, that I still would love and think it's possible to change a bit, but have little hopes it will.

1) This dude hates sex! (the creator). All the sex in this series has weird dynamics in it, it's like none of them can just fuck. Even the "slut" that is Boston, we are told he fucks around a lot and there's so many guys, but every instance of fucking that we actually are shown or are alluded to on screen, has resulted in something bad. There has been 0 genuine, non-weaponised, non-traumatic, instances of sex in this show, that weren't a part of, or even the start, of a train of terrible consecutive downhill events. Even Virgin Mew's first time is tainted by him using it as coin to get Top to stop doing coke, and also tainted by Top being dishonest just before when they just both said they'd be honest. Sex is a plot point to make everything go to shit in this universe. Let people fuck unharmed!

2) For a queer show, it's really going above and beyond to paint every aspect of queer life that isn't a straight-edge, monogamous, and orientated towards building family and career, as negative. We are meant to feel for poor delusional Nick, because he is trying to save Boston from himself and his proclivity for prostate with a promise of love and monogamy. Top himself is now beginning to assume this role in relation to Mew. We even get a random-ass parallel scene of Jennie the bar owner having a break up with her partner cause she doesn't wanna move in together. Like allow me to ask why we needed this? they were sweet and reliable as side-characters, there were numerous other plot points they could've picked to give them some spotlight, and to shine light on the tribulations of dating as trans, and trusting your partner as trans, which is the closest to a good point I can dig out of that scene. But they went for an explosive argument that equates not wanting to move in together and do a next step in normative romance, as being an issue, as being the only continuation, no other parallel paths to love can exist. There is no future in relationships in this universe that doesn't end in your typical nuclear family constellation. And this is a queer show!!!

3) For a show with "Friends" on the title, and presented in its first episode exposition as about this group of friends, it is very unconcerned with the idea of friendship.

There's a loose connection between some characters but rarely have I seen acts of true friendship. I think Sand and Nick is the best, potentially only, good representation of a healthy friendship with no extra manipulative dynamics, even with the unfortunate tainting with betrayal, the apology and resolution is rooted in a healthy and horizontal and unselfish friendship; Mew supporting Ray when he (almost?) took an overdose in the bath years before is one too; Sand consistently helping Ray could be considered that even though the intentions are muddled with romance; maybe Top now helping Mew we could make an effort to see it as an act of friendship because he told Chueam he wanted to help him even if they don't end up together. Of course Chueam too, but again she's the woman insert to be the balance to the slutty selfish men, the voice of reason on the other side of the scale (I don't feel like going further into the stereotypical gender binarism of this, but...).

I'm scrambling so much for examples that even Boston giving Mew a slight phone pep-talk before he loses his virginity could be considered one in this world of absolute friend scarcity? But it's all a reach. They all have fairly complex histories and including some trauma, and not once have they had a heart-to-heart and tried to help each other through, they base their interactions in moaning about their current - or their pursuits of - romantic relationships, or judging those who are not pursuing them, or have addictions that impact them in finding one.

The occasions of help happen ultimately because people have reached such a desperate state that they need a dramatic intervention; and the fact characters reach this level of desperation shouldn't surprise us, because ultimately all of them lack the foundational support of a good friend group.

And this makes sense with my point 2 above - this show is deeply unconcerned with any type of relationship that isn't 1-on-1 romantic partner love. These folks just happen to share space, almost at random, in their lifelong pursuit of a regular long term partnership that ultimately exists in a contextual friendless void. Which makes me think about the wider context of why they're spending time together and this hostel they're opening for a school project. Of course they were "friends" before, and so we are told, but the moments we experience of them together is one in which they are out together for a reason, for school, and not simply because they love each other and want to hang out. I'd love to see them leave their current partners at home a few more times and just hang out in a bar as pals.

The End

And that's what they wrote until episode 9. Neely already sent me their final thoughts so I'll post them later this week.

Thanks for reading💜

I'll tag some people that left comments last time or reblogged. @doyou000me @respectthepetty @italianpersonwithashippersheart @o-nao-lugar @lurkingshan @heiscomingtomygrave If anyone else wants to get tagged for the final one let me know.

#only friends the series #only friends meta #rose and neely ramble #thai bl #ofts #only friends

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