#ive said this a million times to friends but ive never made a post about it
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listen. all I'm saying in that if you assume for a second that kalmoash is real (even bare minimum moash has a crush on kaladin), moash and adolin BOTH lost their partners when kaladin and shallan fell into the chasms in WoR. They both stood there, in full shardplate, and watched their partner fall to their supposed death while they couldn't do anything to save them.
And I dunno I think they should've dealt with that really unhealthily with each other
#ive said this a million times to friends but ive never made a post about it#i am no longer staying quiet about moadolin someone else mentioned them at the same time in tags#and I just realized Ive never really talked about it here#stay tuned for my canon compliant moadolin fic that i'll finish hopefully before I die#stormlight archive#moash#adolin kholin#moadolin#words of radiance#wor spoilers#my-storming-posts
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Can I request a Reader is insecure about her body so Damian shows her how much he loves her? (Reader is a curvy girl)
damian priest x reader
‼️reader being self conscious and insecure, a little angst, fluff in the end
so precious
it was one of those nights.
where damian was training and you were home alone waiting for him. you loved waiting for him. maybe cooking a nice and delicious dinner for you and him and watching something on netflix. that was your perfect typical night.
except tonight you weren’t in the mood for cooking. or watching netflix. or doing anything.
you just wanted to lay in bed and stare at the ceiling. instead you were scrolling through instagram and watching what your friends were doing. but your eyes got lost in damian’s ig stories where he posted a few selfies with some other wrestlers.
you knew they were just friends even if you saw how they looked at him. and the way they looked at you. they were jealous and you knew they had a crush on damian too.
but seeing him posting those selfies made you upset. why wasn’t he posting pictures with you? he never shared a post with you in it. his fans didn’t even know that he had a girlfriend. was he embarrassed? was he embarrassed that someone like him was with someone like you?
a million thoughts started running into your mind that you didn’t even hear the front door opening and a voice calling your name.
“oh here you are…” damian said smiling when he saw you laying on the bed.
“hey…i didn’t even hear you…” you whispered.
he immediately knew something was wrong. the way you didn’t even smiled back. the way you didn’t asked him for a hug and a kiss like you always did.
“is everything okay amor?” he carefully asked sitting next to you.
“yes why?” you lied. and of course, he could tell that you were lying.
“try again…”
“what you mean?” you asked him a little confused.
“are you okay? is everything okay?” he asked again taking your hand into his own.
“yes…”
“you’re lying to me amor…” he whispered.
“it’s just…” you knew he wouldn’t understand. someone so handsome and hot like him wouldn’t understand what you were feeling “are you embarrassed?”
“about what?”
“about me damian” you said back maybe too harshly.
“what? no, why would you think that?” he was a little shocked.
“you don’t want us to go out in public together, you don’t post pictures of us together…hell, your friends don’t even know about my existence while all of my friends and family know about you! how do you think it makes me feel?” you didn’t want to cry but you couldn’t help it “it feels like you’re embarrassed to be seen with me…”
“what? mi vida no, why do you think that?” damian’s heart was hurting for what you just said “you said you wanted to keep it private and so we did…but i’m not ashamed of you, i love you so much y/n and you have no idea…”
“private doesn’t mean hidden damian…you never invite your friends over when i’m here, you never go out in public with me, it’s like i’m your secret and i don’t wanna feel like that…are you ashamed of me? because of what i look like?”
damian knew he fucked up something if those were your thoughts. he loved you more than anything and he thought he was good at showing it to you but apparently he wasn’t.
“look like what? amor, you are the most beautiful person ive ever met…” he said.
“but i’m not like them…you are not ashamed of posting pictures with them…”
“like them?” he wasn’t understanding.
“the other wrestlers…they are tall and skinny and thick at the same time and i know you like that…so why are you with me?” tears well falling from your eyes.
“no no no no baby, you’re talking nonsense. stop it please…” he was hurting for your words because to him, you were everything “i love you…i love you, i love your body, i love your face, your eyes, your lips, i love your heart, your kind heart and i love the way you make me feel” he stood up, taking you with him and placing you in front of the mirror “look at yourself baby…do you see what i see?”
“i see back fat, arm fat, rolls, double chin…i see how bad my face looks without makeup up, i see my flat ass and my big thighs…that’s what i see damian” you said.
“amor…i wish i could give you my eyes so you could see yourself the way i see you” he softly kissed your neck “te amo” he whispered “you mean so much to me and if you want me to post pictures of you, i’ll do it, i want the whole world to see how beautiful you are…i want the whole world to know how lucky i am to have the most beautiful person right by my side…”
“but why can’t i see those things?” you broke down, crying in damian’s arms.
he always knew you've been self conscious and he wanted to take all your fears and pain away but he knew he couldn’t.
“come here…” he slowly walked you to the bed “lay down…”
“what?” you whispered.
“trust me…” and so you did as he told you because you trusted him.
he slowly got on top of you. his hands reaching for your t-shirt.
“what are you doing?” you almost panicked when you felt his hands trying to remove your shirt.
“showing you how much i love you and your body mi amor…”
and so you let him, because you trust him.
you were left in your shorts while being half naked in front of him wasn’t helping your situation. there wasn’t anything sexual in what he was doing, kissing you from your jaw to your breast, from your chest to your soft belly “i love all of this y/n…i love your body because it keeps you healthy and alive…this is what matters to me” he continued kissing every part, every inch of your skin “and i’ll stay awake all night long to prove you that”
and so he did.
#wwe#wwe x reader#wwe imagine#wwe x you#wwe imagines#wwe one shot#damian priest#wwe x oc#wwe writer#wwe oneshot#wwe x original character#wwe x y/n#wwe oc#damian priest fluff#damian priest oneshot#damian priest x oc#damian priest x you#damian priest imagine#damian priest x reader#damian priest wwe#wwe damian priest#wwe drabble#damian priest smut#damian priest angst#wwe damian priest x reader#damian priest x y/n#damian priest fanfic#the judgment day x you#the judgment day fluff#the judgment day one shot
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so i started a fic for this a while ago and it got lost in my wips but then @henderdads posted this and i got right back on my bullshit to finish it! also on ao3
tw: panic attack
November 1985-
Steve had a white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel of the Beemer while he stared out at the theater ahead of him.
Just looking at it, just thinking about what he was about to do, made his skin crawl. He felt guilty and dirty and miserable, but he didn’t really have any other choice.
Okay, that was a lie. There were definitely a million other things he could be doing. He really needed to clean his room, he was falling desperately behind on movies Robin said he needed to see, and he was supposed to be writing an essay to help him get into Ohio State. There were tapes to be listened to, people to check on, God, his car needed an oil change.
But here he was, anyway, neglecting all of it.
The dashboard clock switched to 11:35 and his stomach burned. He’d gotten himself so freaked out, he was going to throw up in the gutter and drive home before anything even happened. The only thing that stopped him was the thought of what waited for him. The dark, cold, empty house, his relentless nightmares, and his sleepless night.
11:40. His hands were getting cold against the wheel, but he still didn’t will himself into the warm oasis that was the theater. Not yet. He still had time.
He felt like an addict, lying to his friends and family before relapsing back into heroin. He knew it wasn’t like that, that if they knew, all he’d get was funny looks and maybe a snarky comment directed at his intelligence (or lack thereof), but that didn’t make it any better. He still hated himself.
He’d promised to give this up a long time ago, to abandon the lifestyle entirely. Actually, he had turned into something of a doormat at this point- always driving the kids places and covering any of Robin’s shifts when she bailed and offering his house and money up to whoever took advantage of it- because anything he did that didn’t help somebody else felt selfish. He wasn’t allowed to be selfish anymore. He had to repent for when he was selfish.
11:45. Steve groaned softly and got out of the car, attacked by the cold air as it seemed to soak through his sweatshirt.
Way to put the guilt into guilty pleasure, moron, he thought to himself, pushing through the doors to the theater. His inner monologue was starting to sound more and more condescending.
The teenager at the counter glared up at him through her eyelashes, popping a bubble with her gum decisively, clearly annoyed to be running midnight showings at a shitty theater. He slid a five-dollar bill across the counter to her and took a deep breath before forcing out the words.
“Rocky IV, please.”
She looked at him like he was stupid, and he was about ready to run back to his car and pretend none of this had ever happened. This was just another stupid nightmare to haunt him while he tried to sleep.
She handed him a ticket, the bright red DRAGO VS. BALBOA staring up at him-mocking him really- and passed over his change without saying anything at all.
Okay, that was the hard part. That was the part that made him interact with someone, a live actual person, made him admit his sin out loud, make it real and out there.
As soon as the ticket was in his hand and he was walking to the specified theater, he could breathe again. The guilt still writhed heavily in his stomach, but he could fight down the nausea enough to function. Half his brain, the half that had been in control for a good while now, was screaming at him that this was wrong, he was sick and twisted for wanting this, while the other half kept reminding him softly that it was just a movie. No one had to know about it. It would help him tonight- maybe he could get some sleep when he got home- and then it could disappear forever, and he would never think of it again.
It’s just a movie.
Steve was ten when the original came out. His dad had paid for him and Tommy H. to go one Saturday and God, they loved it. They’d gotten in a playfight in the parking lot waiting for Tommy’s mom to pick them up, mimicking the final match between Rocky and Apollo (Steve was Apollo every time they played; Tommy refused to be anything less than the hero, even if technically he was the loser) and Tommy had accidentally knocked him in the face and made his nose bleed. That might’ve been one of the best days of Steve’s childhood if he thought about it.
Three years later, he and Tommy went back and saw Rocky II the first night it was out, and watching Rocky win lit something in Steve on fire, and he convinced himself he could do anything, like how Rocky could still get up even when Apollo had beat him to shit.
Steve got into his first fistfight that summer. He lost, because he had never actually fought before, and his punches were loose and messy, but he didn’t even care, staring up at Jack Donahue through a black eye, because Rocky lost his first fight against Apollo, but he won the second, so next time Steve would win.
He went to Rocky III on a date in 1982 (still waiting to win that second fight, although now it was really Fight 8 or 9 because he’d gotten his ass kicked a good number of times since Jack Donahue). The girl he was with got bored halfway through the movie, climbed into his lap and convinced him to make out instead, but he kept getting distracted by Clubber Lang, and Apollo’s training advice, and Rocky and Andrian’s big house and their happy family, glancing over her shoulder absently as she trailed her mouth up his neck. There wasn’t a second date with her. He didn’t even remember her name.
He remembered what color dress Adrian wore to the final fight, though.
He hadn’t watched any of them since September of ‘84 when he’d rented all of them and binge-watched them one night, mostly to remind himself that Billy Hargrove was just a watered-down Clubber Lang who came to steal his title and insult his (nonexistent) wife and mess up his life. Rocky beat Clubber Lang. Steve would beat Billy.
Within the next few weeks, however, Billy ended up on the ever-growing list of people who had whipped Steve, his Heavyweight-Champion-Of-the-World belt that manifested itself as King Steve of Hawkins High was stripped from him, and he’d started his proverbial pilgrimage to salvation.
He didn’t get to like Rocky anymore. King Steve liked Rocky. Just Steve didn’t have any reason for that luxury. Rocky was athletic, and mindless, and masculine, everything that everyone hated about King Steve, so Just Steve didn’t get it anymore.
It’s just a fucking movie. He reminded himself. No one has to know.
They had unfinished business anyway, Rocky and him. Maybe it was fate, or some shit that IV should come out like five months after Steve did get his first win against the Russian soldier.
Hey, old friend. I did it. I won. I got back up. I won.
We won, Rocky.
Steve hid in the back of the theater, in the dark, where no one would recognize him. There were only maybe a dozen other people in there anyway, but in the dark, he could relax.
He almost felt safe, even, when the opening montage started. There was something so familiar about it, like returning to the house you lived in as a child, but the same sort of estrangement from time. Watching Rocky best Clubber again, knowing Rocky would win, was such a comfortable thing. God, these movies were so good.
He almost didn’t feel like such an asshole anymore.
Rocky was a dad now, you know. Had been since the second one technically, but only now was the kid old enough to have a personality. Watching him with his son was maybe when the six-nugget thing really solidified for Steve. He wanted that, he wanted the house and the kid and sparring with Apollo-the friend who knew- and Adrian.
God, he wanted someone to love him the way Adrian loved.
She was always just there, in the very best sort of way. As if at any moment, Rocky could look over and she would be there, grinning at him, helping him back up, fixing things. And she would shake her head and laugh at her moronic boxer husband and still sing with him when he started up out of tune and flush when he flirted with her.
The reminder of the slump in Steve’s love life manifested itself as a sort of sad aching in his stomach. He redirected his attention out of his thoughts and back to the movie.
The plot was a little mindless; he’d admit it. It was basically the same premise as the last one: Some Big-Bad-Boxer popping up out of nowhere to whip Rocky’s ass just enough in the first half to build a vague sense of suspense as to whether he was going to win the final fight or not, but the only difference now was that he was sparring against Communism or something as a metaphor for the mini-Red Scare happening.
Steve didn’t mind. He knew enough Russians to be pretty psyched about Stallone wailing on them for a few hours.
It’s Apollo Creed, however, who first takes his place across the ring from Ivan Drago. Steve was fine. He was well aware of the fact that whatever happened during this fight would mean absolutely nothing in comparison to whatever happens at the end, except maybe deciding the intensity of the training montage (That was the other thing; Survivor was doing a bunch of the music, how could Steve miss out on that?)
Apollo put on a show, with dancers and lights and that stupid flag robe he’d had in the first one, so this would be good. Mediocre writing, good entertainment.
“You will lose,” Drago growled.
They danced around each other in the ring. Apollo threw a good number of jabs in the beginning. It felt good. Steve almost smiled.
But something happened when Drago started fighting back. Apollo stumbled against the ropes, dripping sweat; Rocky yelled something. Steve missed it- he could feel his pulse throbbing in his ears, suddenly a little too aware of his clothes and where they clung to him.
Drago kept fighting. He punched and punched, each one landing hard and solid against Apollo, against flesh, in a rapid thunk, thunk, thunk.
Steve’s hands started to shake.
Apollo leaned back against the corner post as the bell rings-end of the first round- looking dazed and far away.
Rocky begged. “I gotta stop you. This fight’s finished.”
Apollo’s answer thudded through Steve’s head. “Promise you won’t stop this fight. You don’t stop this fight.”
Bell. Second round. Apollo looked stoned, tripping over his own feet as he tried to dance. Steve knew the feeling. Then Drago had him in a corner and it won’t stop, fists pounding against him again and again. Sweat flew off Apollo’s head and fell against the mat like rain. He doesn’t go down.
There was so much blood. Steve couldn’t breathe. He felt the adrenaline in his sweaty, trembling hands, but it wasn’t right. It wasn’t movie excitement, it felt real.
Apollo fell back against the ropes, their support being his only saving grace. His wife screamed from the audience “Stop the fight!” but they won’t, the Russian won’t stop, the fight is still going.
Steve must have started hallucinating. For a moment, all he could hear was his own breath, exhausted and wheezy with pain.
“Scoops... I... I work... Scoops...”
Robin is screaming, sobbing, wailing, voice pounding through his aching head. “Stop it! Stop hurting him!”
A final blow to the jaw. Apollo swung backwards toward the horrified faces of the audience, then lunged forward in depletion. There was blood in his teeth and on his face and staining the white rags and his eye was swollen shut. And the Russian’s wife smiled.
The doctor grinned, white teeth glimmering against the dark beard. He demands something in Russian, and Steve doesn’t understand, but he wants to, he wants to make it go away.
The soldier leans in a final time, delivering a solid blow to his temple.
Steve’s sight fizzles in and out like a kaleidoscope as he falls.
His head hits the concrete floor, and he feels it, the burning pain at the back of his head, seeping up through his brain until his sight goes black.
Apollo was on the floor. His body seized with fatigue and Rocky grabbed him, cradling him in his lap, and he was screaming, crying out for something, and the Russian was still talking but all that gets through to Steve is the grating accent and the fear.
“What did you do to him?!” Robin screams, pulling his weak body towards her with bound hands. “Steve, wake up! Steve, oh my God, wake up, Steve!”
It felt like someone had shoved cotton in his ears. He couldn’t hear anything but his own pulse and his own breath, but somehow, Drago’s last couple words made it through.
“If he dies, he dies.”
Steve got to his feet before he realized he was doing it. His legs were moving, and he wasn’t telling them where to go, but they knew somehow. All he was aware of was the nausea sweeping through him like a tidal wave and the trembling, paranoid fear taking over his entire body.
“Who do you work for?!”
“Scoops Ahoy. The ice cream place.”
Thud. His face burned.
“Who do you work for?!”
“Scoops!”
His head flew to the side, pulling something in his neck and shooting white-hot pain down his spine.
“Hit him again.”
Steve collapsed against the bathroom floor. He didn’t even have it in him to make it to a stall and lock himself in; he just melted there against the wall.
Sweat dripped down his forehead and his back, drenching him. He couldn’t breathe; his sweatshirt was too tight around his throat and his jeans were touching too much of his thighs and he couldn’t get his chest to move.
Every muscle in his body was too tight to move. Maybe he was having a seizure or a heart attack, but it didn’t even matter, because his head ached around a phantom black eye and a scar on his temple that had taken much too long to heal. His eyes felt massive and dry, like if he didn’t get air soon, they were going to pop out of his head.
He knew he needed to breathe, get the air in and out in a timely manner, but every time he tried to open his mouth, he would just wheeze out “Scoops,” or “Robin!”
The Russians killed Apollo. He was laying on the floor next to him and Robin, in those stupid Americano shorts that were the same color as Steve’s uniform, and Steve knows they’re coming for him next. He played Apollo with Tommy; he is Apollo and he’s about to receive the same fate.
He watched the door to the bathroom in terror like Dolph Lundgren was going to storm through at any moment to try and fight him next. Steve couldn’t win. He wouldn’t win. Not against a Russian, not against Drago.
They were going to kill him. Drago was coming, and as soon as he found him, he was going to beat him to death just like Apollo.
Maybe Steve was sobbing. That would explain the burning in his throat and the noise making his head throb. He couldn’t stop it though; he couldn’t seem to control anything except to pull his knees to his chest and curl in on himself to try and protect his head and his ribs.
He didn’t know how long he sat there, suffocating, shaking, anxious hands tearing through the hair at the back of his head, partially to cover his neck, partially to pull at the roots of his hair until he felt something other than fear. Eventually, he stopped crying, the tears were gone, but he still couldn’t breathe, and his whole face felt clogged up with whatever was left of his sobs.
That only made him panic more, realizing he wasn’t getting any air, and his hands moved down his neck to claw away at his throat and open something up. His nails were dull and harsh, tearing up the skin as he pawed at his Adam’s apple, hyperventilating so loudly, it filled up all his senses so that was all he could hear for a good long while.
“Hey... You alright?”
The voice felt far away and soft like it was spoken by someone who had never experienced the harshness of sensation. God? Steve thought stupidly, carefully acknowledging that to be the first thought he’d had in a long while that wasn’t about his own demise via Russian cruelty.
“Harrington. Can you hear me?”
Steve forced his head up, pupils blown wide with adrenaline, glancing skittishly from wall to wall, trying to remember where he was.
“Right here. You’re okay. Try and breathe for me, Harrington.”
Steve’s shallow breaths continued, hands trailing back up to pull his hair again. He didn’t get there, however, because warm hands clamped softly around his wrists and pulled them away. “Careful. Don’t hurt yourself, honey.”
Steve could see his hands, when he moved his fingers a little bit so he could comprehend that they were his, then followed up the foreign hands- now gripping higher up on his forearm to keep him from falling backward- along pale arms and black sleeves, then up along the corner of a tattoo peeking from underneath the collar of the shirt. Higher up, face-to-face with him, although he hadn’t actually seen it until now, was a tangle of messy curly hair and choppy bangs framing the darkest brown eyes he’d ever seen.
“Adrian?” He choked out. Relief surged through him at the recognition, despite the nagging at the back of his mind that that actually couldn’t be Adrian, because Adrian was here with him, and she was gonna take care of him and fix things like she did for Rocky. “Adrian...”
“Sure.” She mumbled. “Deep breaths, Harrington. Like you’re swimming.” She took a few exaggerated deep breaths for him to mirror, and he nodded weakly, trying to force his lungs to expand entirely.
For a few seconds-or minutes; time really had no meaning for Steve anymore- this went on, Adrian taking one breath and Steve copying until he could do it on his own. She loosened her grip on his arms, eventually dropping them completely. “There you go. Feeling okay?”
Steve hesitated while he assessed. His scalp burned from tugging on his hair, and he was sure he’d scratched his throat up pretty bad, but his hands weren’t shaking nearly as much as they had been a minute ago, and he could unclench his jaw finally- he hadn’t realized it had been so tight; the tension was probably the root cause of the headache- so yeah, he decided. “Better.”
“You ever had a panic attack before?”
He shook his head, choosing not to speak again because of the pathetic gravelly sound of his voice and blinking quickly to fight off the next wave of tears- exhausted ones this time.
“Pretty scary, huh? But it’s okay, it’s not forever. It always goes away. You’re safe, okay?”
He nodded weakly, gazing off over her shoulder to be sure the Russians weren’t coming. God, he was going to have to protect her if Drago came. He could fight, he could protect her...
“You aren’t quite back, are you, Harrington?”
Steve startled, darting his glance back toward her. “My...” He choked out, frustrated that his voice didn’t sound right yet; still too wet and broken to be his own. “My name is Steve.”
Adrian chuckled softly. “Yeah. Yeah, I know who you are, Steve. I’m glad you know.” She brushed a stray piece of hair from his eyes. “Can you tell me where we are?”
“Bathroom,” Steve mumbled. “Starcourt.”
“Starcourt? Like the mall? No, it burned down months ago. Remember?”
Steve swallowed hard, staring at the tile. It wasn’t like Starcourt’s- instead of red, green, and orange, this was green, blue, and black. It wasn’t Starcourt. Starcourt was over. Gone. He took a deep breath. “ShowTimez. Theater.”
“Hey, there you go.” She shifted her knees out from under her- it was painful to kneel for so long- and settled cross-legged across from him. “Do you... do you know who I am?”
“Adrian,” Steve whispered quickly.
Her eyebrows shot up in surprise, almost disappearing under dark bangs. “Like from the movie? Gee, thanks, Harrington, you know how to woo a guy.” She tore her sight away, almost blushing, and continued self-consciously. “Not quite. You... you probably don’t know who I am. I wouldn’t be surprised.”
Steve felt bad for getting it wrong. And if it wasn’t Adrian... who cared enough to be so gentle with him? Panic started to fill up inside him again. Who had caught him? Who knew he was here, worse, who had seen him crying? He looked back up, trying to reassess, figure out the right answer.
Upon better inspection, it very much wasn’t Adrian. Besides the hair and the eyes, they didn’t look at all similar. Actually, it was a man, which should’ve been his first assumption given that he was on the floor of the men’s bathroom, but he also forgot his own name for a second there, so he would let it go. He had thick, steel rings that Steve couldn’t coherently recognize into any shapes yet, and tattoos on his arms that Steve hadn’t noticed in his first sweep either. But the face was familiar. Tommy had hated him, loved to pick on him in high school. Maybe Steve had had gym with him junior year. But really, Steve knew him because he was always in the background of whatever place he was driving Dustin to. The party joined Hellfire in September; Steve had been seeing this guy vaguely for months. The name was slow coming to him- everything felt lagged- but eventually, he managed, “Munson. Eddie.”
He grinned. “Yeah! See, I knew I wasn’t that forgettable. Go ahead and call me Talia Shire though, that’s the best name I’ve been called in a while.”
The corners of Steve’s mouth twitched. Maybe it wasn’t Adrian, who he knew he could trust- She's not real, moron, he reminded quickly- but Eddie was harmless. Dustin talked about the guy so much, it was like Steve already knew him anyway.
God, Dustin. What if Eddie told Hellfire and the kids found out he’d been here, and worse, that he’d freaked out? He didn’t know if he could handle it if the kids ever found out he wasn’t as strong as he pretended.
“You can’t tell Dustin.” Steve blurted out.
“What?”
“He can’t know I was here, that I was...” He struggled for the words.
Eddie nodded softly. “Yeah. Okay. I won’t tell him.” He lowered his voice as he said it like it was already a secret. “What the little shit doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
Steve nodded haphazardly to communicate that he agreed, but he just felt like he looked stupid.
“Hey, uh, do me a favor, and don’t tell the kids you saw me here, either, actually.” Eddie continued. “It goes against my code and everything to watch...” He trailed off, suddenly aware of his audience and needing to watch himself.
“Sports movies.” Steve finished. Eddie grimaced, so he added, “Yeah, no, I get it.”
Eddie nodded, forcing a smile, but it was still tainted with guilt like he’d said something wrong.
Steve was quick to stifle the awkwardness. “How come Rocky makes the cut then?”
“Oh, I don’t really know.” His shoulders relaxed a little and he admitted, “I rented the first one on accident. I was looking for Rocky Horror Picture Show, and the tape said Rocky and I’m a fucking moron, and thought they were the same thing because whoever labeled the tape didn’t bother to write the whole thing, and then I’d already paid for it so I just... watched it and... kinda got sucked in. I love a good suave-athlete-falls-for-a-freak plot.”
Steve grinned. “Me too! I only cared about the boxing when I was younger, but now...”
Eddie tipped his head and stared at him bewilderedly.
“What?”
Eddie shook his head dismissively, tentative smile pulling at the side of his mouth, mumbling, “Never would’ve guessed.”
Steve felt horribly seen, like he’d said too much, flush creeping up his face, and he reached up to pull on the hair at the back of his neck again. But Eddie just laughed softly and pushed himself over next to Steve, leaning back against the wall and brushing his shoulder.
“Are you going to be okay to drive home?”
He nodded, starting to shift to his numb, tingly feet, stumbling and having to prop himself on the wall. “Yeah, I should probably go.”
“Hey.” Eddie grabbed his wrist, softly; he could pull away if he really wanted to. “Calm down, give it a minute. You just started breathing again, let’s make sure you’re good to go.”
So Steve didn’t pull away. He slumped back against the tile, legs sprawled forward to get the blood flowing again.
“Does your head hurt?”
Steve glanced over. “What?”
“Just... uh,” He shifted uncomfortably, clearly trying to find a different way to address what he was thinking of. “You were pulling your hair. I wondered if maybe you... you know, what? It doesn’t matter.” He dug into his jacket pocket and pulled out a little white bottle of Advil. “If you want some.”
“Why do you have that?” Steve chuckled softly, taking it from him thankfully. “I mean, I’ve heard your drug-dealer reputation; I just didn’t realize this is what they meant.”
“Har har.” Eddie rolled his eyes. “It’s for Sinclair actually. He’s been-”
“Bitching about his ankle? Yeah, I keep telling him I’ll wrap it for him but he’s-”
“Being a shithead about the whole thing. He’s gonna drive me to do something drastic.”
“Seriously!” Steve cried. “I’ll hold him down, you can punch.”
Eddie laughed, a real, actual laugh and Steve thought he was going to have no choice but to implode. He was so pretty; he understood the Adrian-mistaking suddenly.
Steve wanted to say something, wanted to make him laugh like that again, but before he could grasp anything, the door shoved open and shattered their perfect privacy.
It was the bubblegum girl from the front desk. She popped the wad of pink obnoxiously, huffing out “Dude, the movie’s been over for like twenty minutes. We’re closing.”
Steve and Eddie shared a conspiratorial Ah-shit-we’re-in-trouble look, before getting to their feet. Steve was still holding the Advil bottle, somewhat uselessly because he’d forgotten he had it. He popped it open and swallowed a few, handing it back to Eddie who banished it back to his pocket.
Bubblegum Girl stared them down the whole way out into the lobby, the pair of them giggling as they went, until eventually they stepped into the cold darkness outside the theater, and the spell was broken. Here they were again, in real life, where things were not so great as that bathroom floor or the world within Rocky.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Eddie asked softly like he was afraid something had changed the second they’d passed through the doors.
Steve nodded vaguely. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m alright.”
He shot him a peculiar look and turned off towards where he was inevitably parked, calling out, “Stay safe, Harrington.”
Steve laughed out loud.
March 1986-
Steve hovered over Eddie, who was sitting on Steve’s bathroom counter with his legs over the side, cleaning up the blood on his face with antiseptic wipes Nancy had pulled out of nowhere. His stitches were soft and pliable still, and Steve hated how bulky and thick his fingers were for a moment because if they were small and slim it would force him to be gentler.
Eddie cried out as he brushed over the top of the gash and Steve cringed, yanking his hands back softly to avoid hurting him anymore.
“Sorry,” Steve murmured.
He was afraid to reach back to finish the job- Eddie was in enough pain as it was- so he stood there, watching him for any more signs of discomfort.
Eddie lifted his head languidly, glancing at the slash of bright red on Steve’s forehead, the angry crimson chain around his neck. He tentatively traced his fingertips along his skin, not along the scab, but just below it, and Steve hummed out a low sound in relief.
“You alright there, Balboa?”
It came out a little more slurred than he would’ve liked, but he was on a good deal of narcotics for God’s sake, and it must’ve delivered itself well enough because Steve offered him a small smile.
“Feel like a large wound,” he offered in his best Stallone accent.
Eddie laughed, and it hurt like a mother on his broken ribs and the stitches in his side, so it quickly delved into a whine, and Steve instantly reached out even if there was nothing he could do.
He caught his hand, pulled it into his lap, just to hold it there. Steve didn’t say anything.
“Steve.”
“Hmm...”
Eddie let go. Took Steve’s face carefully in his hands, even though the stretch sent pain shooting through his torso. “I understand now. Everything. Robin told me about the Russians.”
Steve swallowed thickly, head dipping almost in shame, as if it was too much to meet Eddie’s eyes and risk finding his pity there.
Eddie just tipped his head back up gently. “If I had known... I... I wouldn’t have let you go home alone that night. That’s... that’s not what Adrian does.”
Steve tipped his head just a little like he didn’t quite understand the sentiment.
Eddie swallowed. “I’m gonna kiss you now. You ain’t gotta kiss me back.”
He properly grinned this time, leaning in to meet him halfway, hands placed carefully on Eddie’s knees as he pulled in his face.
And he did kiss back. What can he say? He loves a good suave-athlete-falls-for-a-freak plot.
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#tw: panic attack#steddie hurt/comfort#steddie fic#alternate meeting#rocky references#rocky iv spoilers#ficlet
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holy fucking shit you guys. um. i came across. a treasure trove. of um, my past self. came across an old group chat w some friends back when i was like, 12-13, and. holy shit.
good news: apparently i did use to be somewhat talkative and not quite as anxious to talk and interact ! i used to be able to carry conversations! not well or inawkwardly but very much plenty! i used to be able to talk and joke around without taking a million psychic damage just trying to send a message and even just saying whats on my mind carefree without being anxious that itll be weird or that they didnt want me to say that or that i didnt have to scramble for words or be unable to come up with quips or anything to reply other than just 'lol' or 'lmao'!! i feel like these days i only know how to talk and word things in a given or meme way aka all my vocabulary is just. tumblr memes.
bad news: holy fucking shit i was so cringe. like. on another level. on levels unimaginable. i was straight up just. weird. you know, horny preteen discovering sex jokes and crude language and sex humor for the first time? straight up had no filter, loved to ramble, except also had zero social sense still and rambled to a weird and overly and uncomfortable degree where it was just awkward and often said things that just. made the conversation weird? i embraced that weirdness and like, good on me i guess, but i think i just usually ended up saying things? blurting anything on my mind, that well. technically arent bad? or seriously fucked up or anything but just like. will probably haunt me for the rest of my life if i look at it now.
also like. i dont remember any of it ??????? i vaguely remember a Few conversations, but a lot of it? just straight up. unfamiliar to me who the fuck is that i dont remember saying any of that shit that past me is so fundamentally different and alien to me i literally dont recognize or remember anything i did then anymore
apparently i was just a giant nerd who read way too much smut and was just a little too unashamed and had very little sense of appropriateness which yeah i get given my age then its that. age of you know. just got exposed to people being vulgar, recently transitioned to high school from elementary, which is probably like. a way more. fucked up thing that people realize sometimes. cause in elementary i always thought i was still like you know. a little kid. but going into high school (which is younger than in US hs, at 12 y/o) youre suddenly treated or like, expected? to be older? more knowleadgeable? you know that thing about how kids these days are all trying to be adults now and how theres really no more media like the disney teenage live shows that separate little girl to grown lady? i think that jut like, hit me a lot in 7-8th grade + the introduction of nsfw shit and fandom and the internet (cause like. i did not have internet in elementary school, At All. and then suddenly in high school i was supposed to have a messenger account for school, i had a phone, i could use the laptop, i think i had a weird relationship w the internet then, cause at that point all my friends were already exploring facebook and posting etc, but i was so anxious and shy about that already that i just never started (which like, continues to today, i still dont use fb at all, cuase it feels so weird and awkward to start now when i was so adamant against not using it in the past) aaaand ive lost my train of thought and the point of this sentence
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fic rec friday 25
welcome to the twenty-fifth fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.
1. ladies and gentlemen we are rocking in space by @mayerwien
LANCE
do u like the taste of spam, van kieu
because thats what ull get
1 glorious terabyte of def-not-garrison-approved viewing matl
every hour on d hour
KEITH
And now you’re blackmailing me. Wonderful.
Look, I’ll tell you, alright?
Not because your threat scares me, but because I’d like to cut this conversation as short as humanly possible.
LANCE
glad ur being so cooperative ;) ;)
--
Lance gets a new flight simulation partner. Lance makes a bunch of mixtapes. Lance falls in love?
Galaxy Garrison + texting au. For the Klance Zine!
i can confidently say, in my 6+ years of being a klance stan, i have never seen anything like this before or since. this fic is AMAZING. completely new idea, hilarious, sweet, and totally untouchable. i’ve always love testing fics that are done right (bc theyre always funny), and does this one ever knock it out of the park! the dynamics are amazing and the rivalry is EXQUISITE. bonus of vietnamese keith and filipino lance, and this one line (it’s a spoiler so im not going to put it here) that actually knocked me out of the water. its about the CHOICE.
2. But You’ll Peek Through by Barkour
It's weird, the things you get used to when you've been stuck in space for years. How much you miss home. Socializing regularly with only six people. No wifi. Your cranky boyfriend.
this is one of the earliest vld fics ever written, and it has a CROWN idk. this fic makes me feel so many emotions all at once. like i miss u 2016 fic i miss u keith gyeong i miss u bitchy klance i miss u early voltron found family dynamic i miss u old lance’s family headcanons i miss u bamf team. rip to the earliest voltron fandom
(also. how did this author know about romelle. in 2016.)
3. Pull Me Closer by @thewriter2
An ancient power dwells in Lance’s very bones. It hums a sweet song of the sea in Lance’s ear, calling him to the water. Keith’s bones are on fire as the very spirit of the flame lives in him. However, it’s these ancient powers that begin to pull them together; that shows them how to properly balance each other out
i SEARCHED for this fic. i made half my followers search with me too. this fic is bamf lance to the fucking max, and its AMAZING. how many of you have wanted waterbender lance so badly you could barely speak? firebender keith? if u said u didnt then ur lying. this fic has literally everything you could ask for in a canon divergence
4. The Homestead by @devooshawrites
Keith is hired for the summer to work on the farm of the McClain family. He and the youngest son of the family become good friends, though Keith might want more.
i am so fucking in love with aus like this. cowboy or farmboy where theyre quietly in love in their own bubble of the world?? i cannot get enough of them. i would read a million of them. this fic in particular is SO soft and tender, it is so so important to me. ive read it so many times. its one of those fics that brings a smile to your face that u literally cannot fight back
5. Prince Charming by @taylortot
Lance thinks that Prince Keith is just another stuck-up royal with an attitude problem until they spend some time together outside of the palace and he discovers that he couldn't have been more wrong.
Written for The First of Forever Zine!
this fic is SO tender it is sickeningly sweet. “rivals” to friends to lovers is so special to me, and no one does it like taylortot fr. love is stored in the tender moments away
that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!
#i am almost out of my most favourite ever vld fics i will have to move to all my other bookmarks in a couple weeks!!#vld#voltron#lance#lance mcclain#keith#keith kogane#klance#modern au#historical au#bamf lance#vietnamese keith#filipino lance#fic rec#fic rec friday
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a discussion idea! (long post)
my husband and i were chatting last night while cleaning up dinner; he pitched a fun idea that could be a great topic of discussion in the simblr community. maybe this should be a SQotD submission - IDK but: he asked how i feel about sims 2 expansion packs now compared to when they came out. initially, i said "yeh idk, i guess the same?" and that was that.
i put a more thought towards his question and realized, i do feel a bit differently about some of the EPs now compared to when they came out - all under the cut!
university: i was SO SO excited about it bc i didnt go away to college like my friends did so it was a way to vicariously-ish get the experience and a bonus was zombies! now tho? yea i still enjoy it even tho the dormies eventually start pissing me off bc theyre just so damn dumb lmao
nightlife: same level of excitement. i LOVE cities and i love vampires too. this scratched the "i need to go downtown chicago" itch when i couldnt from lack of transportation and safey being a v smol person afraid of the worst. i played all my sims in "downtown", specifically, 107 Custer Blvd. I made-over that lot dozens of times, it's seen dozens of different families and had a million different lifetimes. Nightlife still stands as my fave TS2 EP and 107 Custer - my all-time favorite lot to play.
open for business: initially, i had ZERO excitement over this pack. i personally, right out of high school basically, had NO interest in working myself (i didnt, i went to community college and got by ok w/ chore-money basically) so why the hell would i want to put my sims to work too?? i also didnt care for the music (i like it more now tho) as an Adult - i do enjoy this pack more than i ever did when i was a clueless near-20-yo.
also, love the servos but i dont play w them nearly as much as i should being a bot fan and all. (i should fix that)
pets&seasons: i was pumped for these bc MORE IMMERSION AND REAL LIFE STUFF!!! also, weather and animals LOL. i still love these packs the same as i did when they initially released. just kinda wish plantsims werent annoying for me to play, i love them from afar tho! werewolves are neat but theyre also kind of a PITA to play.
bon voyage: EH i dont really go on vaca a lot myself, my sims dont either for the same reasons: money! im also still scarred from the one time i did send my sims on vaca and they got STUCK THERE!!! it broke all my shit and i had no way of fixing it bc i didnt know about MTS, MATY and etc to ask for help/guidance. RIP to that family lmao i hope theyre still having a nice time in the vaca-void theyre prob still floating around in! (note: ive never found bigfoot, some day i wish to!)
freetime: we all have hobbies right? it was all fine and good until the fire nation attacked i was being inundated with a ton of hobby spam, be it notifications, the hobby sims and the lots. it was a lot. its far more manageable now thanks to mods so i dont mind playing into hobbies. i do appreciate the return of the genie tho!
apartment life: ok, look. i thought this was super cool then but now, after living in apartments myself, i despise them and dont put my sims in them anymore either. i do love the witches tho, prob my fave aspect of this pack!
edit to add rankings: nightlife, seasons, pets, apartment life, uni, ofc, free time then bon voyage lmao
id be interested to hear/read you guys' comparison's to the different EPs we have for Sims 2 or any of the sims games tbh. id go over The Sims but i dont have all day lmao ill make a different post on that some time bc i always get in my feels over the OG.
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ive been living with sensory issues my whole life, i freak out when someone makes small changes to my routine, like i hate doing spontaneous things, most of the time i hate physical affection, & i have such a hard time socializing & making friends. i have bipolar disorder and other disorders like anxiety, etc. but my treatment for those things doesn't help with these other issues i have. i hate being like this and i want to work toward change but i don't know what to do to work toward it. 😞
like i said i have trouble making friends and i always have since i was a kid. i've always felt like an alien compared to other ppl. and that's fine because i prefer being alone. but i hate that i can't act normal in social situations and ppl always think im rude or weird when im not trying to be 😢 and it sucks because i kinda have to be in social settings sometimes because i have children. and i dread it for these reasons every time. nobody is interested in the same things as me. and when i talk about my interests ppl tell me im too obsessed with something or tell me its weird altogether. which hurts. and when i am able to make "friends" i always get taken advantage of because i can never tell when someone is taking advantage of me and my kindness or if they have malicious intentions with me. and i feel stupid every time because my bf will tell me they are "obviously playing you" or my mom will say stuff like "can't you tell that they aren't interested?" or the one i always get is "why can't you see that this guy is flirting with you/trying to sleep with you."
idk if im just having a panic attack or a mental breakdown or what. but this has been building up inside of me for years. i feel so stupid and weird. i have to carry lotion around with me because if my hands don't have moisture on them at all times i literally sit there with chills going up my spine and i can't touch anything. certain clothes make me want to rip my skin off. and my family gets annoyed every time i have to run back in the house because i forgot to grab it. which just adds to the guilt i feel for being this way and i can't control these issues no matter how hard i try.
i've literally made so many lists and "rules" for myself on how to act around ppl and i try so hard to follow them just to get through whatever event is going on.
i think thats why i throw myself into my interests and use them to escape reality so much. once i find something i like i become obsessed with it forever and i talk about it so much to the point where my bf tells me its too much. certain characters and shows are the only thing that brings me comfort sometimes. i have so many unnecessary lists and categories for my interests. i know its very time consuming and pointless but just having them makes me feel better. like pinterest for example is my best friend lol. making these lists and stuff just soothes me in a way. as stupid as that sounds. but even tho it comforts me it still makes me feel stupid because ive never met anyone else who does that.
i've never ever spoken about this stuff online/publicly before. mainly because of embarrassment and fear of being bullied for it since ive already been relentlessly harassed for a million other things. i just have so much anxiety all the time. and doing pointless things helps with it but i want to stop feeling this way. or at least have answers as to why i am this way so maybe i can fix it. im tired of feeling awkward or different from other ppl. i want to be normal and pleasant to be around. i want to get along with the other parents at school functions instead of being scared to talk to ppl. i can't even make eye contact with anyone i talk to. ive tried since i was LITERALLY a child and no matter what i always get scared or nervous and look away. and its really noticeable to other ppl because they've mentioned it to me.
i'm posting this to vent but also maybe someone reading this has gone through the same thing or can help me. because i feel so hopeless and im scared im going to be this way forever. ive only been able to find info on the sensory thing and ive found that there is no way to get rid of it. ive tried everything and ive given up on that. but i know i can change my actions and how i interact with ppl if i can just figure out WHY i am like this.
pls don't laugh at me or say anything mean if you choose to comment on this post. i already have so much anxiety and fear about posting it. i don't want sympathy or anything like that. i just need help 😞🥺😢
i have an appointment booked for seeing a psychiatrist but that isn't until november i haven't seen one since i was a little kid. so i'm hoping to maybe get some answers in the meantime.
i already can't work and im getting disability soon because my bipolar is so crippling. it affects my ability to function so much. and i have these other problems on top of it. the fact that i can't even make a living like "normal" ppl makes me feel bad about myself already. and since i can't get a job or a career i want i just want to feel normal in my everyday life and around ppl AT THE VERY LEAST.
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౨ৎ The Office of IVE ! — an yujin [ 1.0k ]
000. an empty office [ fully written ] | masterlist
taglist : @takpayahtahu @dearyujimin @aeriniee @jinsoulinator @dollinin @minaripenguu @gayforalll @hyejuwu @tenjito @baewonlove @strawberrytoki
a/n : just a little background !
“ok that is everything ! I hope you all have a great first day.. good luck”. for the first time in fourth minutes you actually paid attention. leaving the room with the other transfers. the blonde girl pointed all over the place and started leading people to their desks.
“you didn’t pay attention either.. right?”. your head whipped to the side.
“oh yeah.. I’ve been working here for a year or two so I’m fine”. the shorter girls eyes went wide.
“I’ve only been working for four months.. I just got transferred because my boss was sick of me”. you laughed.
“we-“
“glasses following me”. the blonde girl didn’t even dare to look at you; she snapped her fingers and you waved good by to your new friend.
“this is your desk.. the post it note tells you what to do.. ask your boss if anything goes wrong for help..”. as you sat down, you looked up and the girl was already gone.
as you got to work you heard a small commotion.
“you heard that too?”. you jumped and the shorter girl yelled.
“ya..”
“oh I’m yeojin by the way..”. yeojin wheeled her chair around and you did too, you told her yours too. she shook your hand and then turned to face your bosses office.
“guess the glass was a bad decision then..”. you chuckled. a bunny looking girl threw papers at your boss and was coming your way. you and yeojin quickly went back to your cubicles.
“see ! one of your so called ‘workers’ are to busy.. shopping ! to even do there fucking job”. your mouth dropped open as the bunny girl pointed at you.
“you are so lucky your even here you know that..?”. the girl for closer and closer to you.
“your a little piece of shit in this b-“
“I think that’s enough nayeon”. your boss stepped infront of you and as she did nayeon shock her head and stormed out the office.
“ITS FUCKING MRS. IM TO TOU YUJIN”. you stared at the open door as nayeon tapped furiously on the elevator buttons.
“are you ok.. I understand if you want a day off.. I can-“. you waved your hands.
“oh no no I just got here I’m fine!”. that would be the first and last day you would see yujin show an once of cate until gaeul came. for a few days she always peered into yujin’s room. she never had much to do so you thought poor girl. which lead you to go up to her ever so often to start a conversation. the first one started with a freshly made coffee and muffin for her.
“oh your really didn’t need-“
“she won’t bite you..”. the girl scoffed.
“I.. I know that!”
“you don’t act like you do..!”. from their on your and gaeul joked about your scary boss. and every once in a while you would see yujin smile at you. next came rei. she came a few months later and took the cubicle right next to you.
she was shy like gaeul but anytime you tried to strike up a conversation she would shut it down real quick. that was until one day you saw her playing fortnite on her office computer.
the next day a few minutes before work was supposed to be over you and rei cornered her in her cubicle.
“I-“
“we know you like fortnite..”. gaeul said arms crossed.
“so we wanted to know if you would go to a pc bang with us..”. rei’s ears perked up at your words.
“that is..”. gaeul laughed and then straightened up when she saw Rei was bewildered.
“a big place with computers.. like a at home gaming set times a million”. rei’s smile went from ear to ear.
next was wonyoung. she was special. since yujin actually talked to her like she was an actual person. multiple times you had saw the girl sitting on one of the multiple tables in her office while wonyoung rolled her eyes.
wonyoung was different, it was obvious she was smart but also obvious that she was hired halfy for her personality. you tilted your head at the lollipop sta on your keyboard.
“jinnie said you liked them”. you jumped as wonyoung popped her head into your cubicle.
“how does sh-“
“she.. she’s your boss.. I mean our boss ofcourse she knows”. from then on random sweets and knick nacks appeared in your cubicle. which confused liz the next new hire a few months later.
“who.. who leaves those?”. you turned to the girl to your left and smiled.
“oh my friend wonyoung.. wony for short”. the girl pulled out a yellow note pad, scribbled something down and then smiled at you. a few days later a bunch of random gifts showed up in everyone’s cubicles.
a week later, boxes of donuts were ordered for the office with small letter of encouragement. the way liz smiled at you all showed it could only be her who did this.
your smiled as you walked into work. you had max such wonderful friends over the-
“mrs. y/l/n please come to my office please”. you stopped daydreaming and fast walked to yujin’s office. your head tilted at the little girl sitting in the chair just at her door.
“sorry to bother you but.. we have afresh higher that I need you to.. show the ropes to..”
“it’s fine.. but weren’t the new huggers showed everything before work..?”. yujin nodded and but her lip.
“yes but.. lee.. this one didn’t get the email because she just got accepted.. as a six month intern”. you nodded.
“ok I’ll get right to it”. as you bowed and went to leave you saw yujin open her mouth and slowly close it. as you closed the door you turned to the girl.
“hi I’m-“
“y/n mrs. yujin told me”. you nodded.
“and your..”
“lee hyunseo !”. the girl sprung up from her seat and bowed. this not so empty office just got a new hire you were starting to grow really fond of.
#kpop fanfic#kpop#kpop idol x reader#kpop imagines#kpopidol#kpop gg#kpop smau#kpop girls#reader x idol#reader insert
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To Bake A Cake (Takasugi x Birthday Fem!Reader)
A/N: Last month was my birthday and I decided to write myself a birthday fic including my beloved, but due to certain annoying family situations, it took me ages to finish ;-; But it's finally done, and voila, I decided to post it even though my birthday was over 2 weeks ago lmao.
Plot: After a run-in with Sakamoto, Takasugi realizes it's your birthday, and decides to grant you a wish. Who could have thought such wish involved whisking and baking?
guest starring tatsuma and mutsu because i realized ive pretty much never included them in anything.
Warning: Comedic fluff with lots of smut :p
(here's a ss gif because im too much a chicken to dive in the final arc just yet ;-; but he looks fine af and ;-;)
“Takasugi?”
If there is one thing Takasugi Shinsuke has learned during his rather unpleasant sojourn in life, it’s that the sound of his name seldom accompanies a blessing. Everywhere he went, disaster followed, and this place was no exception.
Be it at Edo Mart or a terminal millions of miles away from Earth, a world renowned terrorist should never even dream of setting foot inside a tobacco store with such abandon. Still that was exactly what he did, and now, he was left with no other choice, but to face the consequences of his poor decision making.
With the smoke still in hand, Takasugi hurried out of the store. A head-on confrontation in the middle of the crowd wouldn’t do, and so he kept on walking, until the voice of his pursuer faded into existence. Had he misheard? Could it be that he’d grown paranoid enough to be chased by illusions?
Bewildered, he packed the tobacco inside his yukata, when a disturbingly familiar cackle reached his ears.
“Damn, I can’t believe it was actually you.” The silhouette of a man dressed in a red duster and a pair of dark circular shades said. “If I didn’t know any better, I would have assumed you avoided me.”
This was far worse than a rogue bounty hunter, space fighter or Naraku assassin catching whiff of him. Something he dreaded more than all three combined.
“What if I was?” Takasugi taunted.
“That’s not how you greet an old friend, Takasugi. Especially when we haven’t spoken in years!” Sakamoto pouted, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. “My letters haven’t reached the Kihentai?”
“They haven’t.” He replied in a stern tone, ignoring his friend’s comment.
In reality, Takasugi had gotten his hands on every single letter Sakamoto sent his way, though he never answered back any of them. That’s not to say he never tried to, more like he was incapable of doing so. What would he write? What was there for him to say when there was nothing piecing the two together?
Idle small talk was never his thing. He couldn’t just go back to the time when the four of them chattered about everything and nothing in particular all at once. The bonds of the past belonged in the depths of his mind, along with the memories they shared. No matter how much he yearned to traverse that limit, the only road for him was the one lying ahead. He had no time for distractions.
“That’s a shame.” Sakamoto said, buying into it. “Have you met with the others then? I hear Zura is in the same field you are.”
“Same field, entirely different agenda.” He scoffed. “Let’s just say Zura’s more like a prickle pointing at my side rather than an ally.”
“I find that hard to believe. Wasn’t he the one to always clean after your mess?”
“We’re old enough to be cleaning after our own messes. Times change, Tatsuma. I’m sure you know that best.” He sighed, taking a few steps further away from the crowd, and hopefully, away from this discussion.
“People don’t. When I look at you, I only see the same idiot who put his life on the line for a lost war. Same goes for the others.”
By the looks of it, getting rid or him wouldn’t be this easy. Even when Takasugi walked away, Sakamoto kept trailing after him, until the two made it past the quiet corner of a souvenir shop. As if anyone would want a memento to remember this god-forsaken land by. Other than a safe heaven for criminals and merchants to conduct their business in discretion, this planet offered next to nothing. The lack of sustainable tourism was enough proof for that.
At the back of the store, lied a handful of vacant chairs, one of which Sakamoto sat on and another of which Takasugi rejected. He had no particular intention to get all cozy by his side, not when the cold metallic wall felt far more welcoming.
“Was this supposed to come off as an insult or a compliment?” Takasugi sneered.
“Just an old friend’s insight.” Sakamoto chuckled, stretching his limbs. “I take it you haven’t been talking with Kintoki either.”
“I haven’t.” He admitted, the last time the two of them conversed -or, rather squabbled- still vivid in his brain.
“In that case, why don’t we plan a reuni- ”
“I’m busy.” He cut him off.
“But I never said when-”
“I’ll be busy.”
The last thing he needed was a get-together with these three idiots. Running into one of them was bad enough on its own, be it the lesser evil. Even if part of him wanted to gather around a campfire, tossing stories and insults as if nothing ever soured between them, there was no way he’d never admit it. Not to himself, and certainly, not to him.
“I should get going.” Takasugi said, looking to end this little misfortune, when Sakamoto jumped before him.
“Wait! I didn’t tell you why I was here in the first place.” Sakamoto exclaimed, revealing a rather large box from behind his back, one that Takasugi had failed to notice in prior.
“I don’t remember asking.” He smirked in an attempt to hide his curiosity.
“I was gonna have this delivered at your ship, but since you are here, you should take it.” He said, urging him to grab the parcel. “It’s for Y/N.”
“Y/N?” Takasugi asked, visibly intrigued. He was aware the two of you shared the same beginnings in life, but he would’ve never guessed you’d kept contact after the war.
“Takasugi, don’t tell me you don’t remember your own girlfriend’s birthday.” Sakamoto said in a semi-accusatory tone.
“She’s not my girlfriend.” He objected, the latter part of the sentence having yet to register.
He’d rather take his other eye out than let others define your relationships as that of a boyfriend and a girlfriend, but at the same time, Takasugi was unsure of what to actually introduce you as. The woman he slept with seemed too shallow, the woman he loved too grandiose. Perhaps the term partner was the closest at doing you justice. Still, titles meant nothing when he knew precisely what you were, and that was his.
His and only his.
“Is she not? Wow, then I suppose it’s not too late for me to shoot my shot.” Sakamoto declared with a grin.
“Not unless you want to get shot first.”
At his threat, Sakamoto couldn’t help but burst into laughter, nearly dropping the box to the ground. Which he would have done, had it not been for Takasugi successfully catching it midair. It was even heavier than it looked, he noted as he balanced it against his hip.
“I was just kidding! Well, not entirely, but I don’t suppose you plan on sharing, right?”
His silence was the only answer he could spare. A merchant should know better than to go after things that were never up for sale in the first place.
“Besides, I’m happy things worked out between you two. Y/N was a real knockout back home. I never worried about her hitting it off with someone, but you finding someone who can put up with your grumpiness long term? That’s amazing!” He went on, following his words with another of his distinct cackles.
Takasugi could feel himself getting increasingly irked with every word Sakamoto spewed, even when deep down he could see his point. It was true that he wasn’t the world’s easiest person and that you’d endured hell by choosing to stay around a guy like him. Maybe to others it looked as if you were the one who needed him, considering how you always clung onto him, but in reality, it was the other way around. You were the only one who could make these dark clouds disperse, the only one he truly needed.
“Remember how just about half the girls were in love with you, yet the second you looked their way they ran away? Or how you made that girl cry right after she confessed? Poor thing, she even made you a card! Or-or, how every time we went down to Yoshiwara, no girl managed to spend an entire night with you without-”
Just when he was about to mellow down a bit, Sakamoto started speaking again, his laughter constantly breaking his own sentences in half.
“Will you keep listing more unpleasant incidents?” Takasugi asked through gritted teeth, finding it impossible to maintain his composure.
“No, of course not! I was just pointing out how you seem to have found your one true match. Really puts the whole ‘there’s someone out there for everyone’ thing into perspective.” Sakamoto grinned earnestly.
“Then you are lucky more than half the population tends to your standards.” He mumbled, as he lowered his gaze towards the box.
Why did he not know it was your birthday today? No matter how busy he was, he couldn’t have possibly forgotten, unless he never knew about it in the first place.
Come think of it, you first met amidst the war. A merchant’s daughter with great prospects and an even greater future awaiting her, choosing to fund a war she wasn’t part of, and it was all because of him. Because ever since you met, you kept trying to earn his attention through whatever means necessary.
He remembered how persistent you were, suggesting he owed you so much as a mere talk when you’d burnt all this money on his cause. At first, he saw no reason for you to get too friendly with one another. All you were was a friend of a friend, and so, he’d brushed your advances, blatantly stating that no amount of yen was enough to buy him. However, you weren’t disheartened. You kept asking him to name his price over and over again, until he finally caved in and took you on a crappy date by the shore.
Truthfully, he sucked at dating, back then and right now. The right words never came easily, and getting involved with someone during such a crucial point of his life was a hassle. But even when he’d chosen to maintain his silence, idly tossing rocks into the sea, you’d chosen to grab a stone of your own, and join him without a single complaint. You’d stayed by his side until the awkward silence became comfortable, until the moon gave way to the sun, until your nights were filled with hasty kisses and unbottled chuckles.
And then the war came to an end. All survivors either returned home, or found a new place to call that, but he wasn’t among those. Perhaps he never survived that war, perhaps he never left the battlefield. He kept on dragging the horrors of the past with him, but worse, he kept dragging you along.
You were the person he valued more than his life, that was for certain. Every smile, every kiss, every night, even your own future, you’d given that all without asking for anything in return. But why was it that you’d kept something so trivial a secret? Why was it that he had no actual recollection of you ever celebrating a damn occasion by his side? Why was it that he felt as if the times you’d cried outnumbered the ones you’d smiled?
“But, Takasugi, you should know better than to disappoint her.” Sakamoto interrupted his thoughts. “Between you and me, women really do care about birthdays and anniversaries more than we do. You should also get her a little something while you still have time. Usually something shiny or pretty cuts it, but if push comes to shove, then you could always push or shove something else into her-”
Before Takasugi had the chance to truly grasp his friend’s explicit hints, a punch came raining down on him, sending his glasses flying and his head to meet the floor.
“I thought I heard a dog barking.” The voice of a woman spoke in a harsh tone, her presence revealed behind the man’s fallen body.
Long brown hair concealed by a straw hat. Fair complexion and cunning eyes. He’d only seen this woman once before, though such formidable persona was unforgettable.
“Mu-Mutsu?” Sakamoto squeaked.
“Didn’t you promise to stay put, Sakamoto? Do I really need to tie a leash around your neck?” She asked, rubbing the point of her shoe against his throat.
“Wh—what are you talking about? We were only catching up!” Sakamoto cried, attempting to lift her leg with both hands.
“Seems like your second-in-command is far more perceptive than you are, Tatsuma.” Takasugi smirked. “Too bad she’s wasting her potential. Although it’s not too late to reconsider.”
“I’m afraid I see no profit in terrorism.” Mutsu scorned, kicking Sakamoto’s palms off her while he rolled to the side in relief. “Besides, who knows what will become of this idiot, should he stay unsupervised long enough?”
“Fair enough. Although you should take care of yourself. Idiocy is highly contagious.” He said, lightly stepping over a writhing Sakamoto.
“After all these years, I’d like to think I’ve grown immune.” She replied, following his lead.
“There are no bigger idiots than the ones who claim they aren’t. Mix it up with someone like them once, and it’s already too late to go back.”
“Experience speaking?”
“Something like that.”
“Gu-guys, can you not have this discussion on top of me?” Sakamoto begged, trying his best to retract his hands.
With a light chuckle, Takasugi obliged to his friend’s wishes, turning his back on the two of them. “Well then. I’ll be taking my leave now.”
“Oi, Takasugi, don’t forget about what I said! Make sure to-Ouch!”
Once he’d distanced himself from the scene, Takasugi stopped a final time to look over his shoulder. Mutsu kept making use of Sakamoto’s hair as if it were a mop, sweeping just about every piece of dirt, until his pleas disappeared along with the two of them behind the crowds.
“It really was good seeing you, Tatsuma.” Takasugi smiled, his steps heavier than before as he marched in the opposite direction.
“I thought you said you’d buy some smoke before we take off, not harvest an entire field yourself.”
At the sound of the door opening, you set your book down. You’d lost count of how many pages you’d flipped up until Takasugi decided to make it back to his room. For all you knew, hours, or even days had gone by. There was no real telling in the vastness of space. Everything moved at its own pace.
Still, what he did was unforgivable. Subjecting you to the dullness of going through the same book over and over again, while he was out there, most likely caught up in some incredibly fun story you’d missed on.
“If only.” Takasugi stated in a dry tone, closing the door behind him. “Instead, I was made into a messenger by an old friend of yours.”
“An old friend of mine?” You repeated, propping your jaw against your elbows.
There were little to no candidates for him to meet up in space. With the majority of your friends being either at odds with him or straight up unable to afford such a trip, the obvious answer would be Sakamoto. Not because he didn’t belong in either category, but because on a day like this, he was the only with a reason to seek you out.
Your suspicions were confirmed the moment Takasugi presented you with a rather hefty looking box, one that he set onto the floor before making his way towards the window. This definitely was the work of your childhood friend, you concluded, though you couldn’t resist playing dumb with your guesses.
“Hmm… could it be Gintoki?”
A thin cloud of smoke spiraled from his direction, the silence serving as response.
“Zura then?”
More smoke.
“Nobume?” You insisted.
“Just how many old friends do you have?” He stated, rather than asked.
“Then… Shige Shige?”
“Since when you’ve gotten friendly with the Shogun?”
“Since you’ve been taking hours to shop for tobacco.” You taunted, finding enjoyment in your little back and forth.
“Charming.” He smirked, at last turning around. “Tatsuma asked me to bring this to you.”
“Then I guess I have no right to nag you any longer. I wonder what it is!” You gleefully exclaimed in a singing voice, while your hands fumbled with the tape.
Ever since the two of you were mere brats back in Tosa, you’d come up with this weird tradition of finding the wackiest birthday gifts for one another. From vagina scented candles for your eleventh birthday, to a calendar full of inappropriate seasonal pictures of Tamo-san for his twelfth, each year the competition grew more severe than before, with nothing but the sky serving as the limit.
Your anticipation grew bigger over each tape that came off, and you could tell you weren’t the only one. A keen orb of green kept following your every movement while its owner timed each step of his with another puff of smoke. To be fair, he was doing a great job concealing his interest, and if it weren’t for his pipe nearly dropping off his lips at the sight of your gift, then you wouldn’t have known.
Admittedly, it took more time for you to realize what the item in hand was, than for Takasugi to recover from his rapid coughing. The two circular objects at the base, the pink colored mushroomy tip, the vein-like lines engraved all around… Judging by its size alone, it resembled more that of a greatsword than of a sex toy. It was ridiculously big, both in length and girth.
“Is that…?” Takasugi asked, not daring to finish his question.
Picking the dildo up, you failed close your palms around its head. This was definitely not meant for humans, or, at least, not one of your physique.
“I lost.” You admitted, realizing there was no way to ever surpass him now. “I actually lost.”
“There is a note.” He pointed back inside the box.
“Oh? You are right. Let’s see,” you paused to unfold the paper, “ ‘Dear Y/N, I hope this letter finds you in good health, and I wish you a very happy birth-Autumn, from the bottom of my heart.” You quickly glanced up at Takasugi, though he didn’t say a word.
That was a close one!
“That’s quite courteous of him!” You awkwardly chuckled.
“Anyways, ‘In the past month we managed to expand our business in Rakuyo, and this is one of our first prototypes. With the majority of Yato warriors scattered around the galaxy, their women tend to wallow in loneliness and frustration. We hope that with time, they can learn to open their hearts, along with their legs to us.’ Typical Tatsuma.” You chuckled, while Takasugi scoffed.
“Hmm, according to him, its name is ‘Master Sword 69’ and-oh, the tip is detachable and, if you insert batteries, it also works as a foot massager! That’s thoughtful.”
“Is that all?” He sighed.
You unfolded the rest of the letter, finding a postscript right at the end.
“‘P.S. I sincerely hope Takasugi is not as big of a bore in bed as he used to be.’ Oh, Tatsuma.” You giggled, unable to contain yourself. “You haven’t changed one bit.”
“Idiots never change.” Takasugi mumbled as he returned to the window.
“But Shinsuke, what’s that thing he said about you being a boring lover? Is there anything I should know?” You asked, not bothering to suppress your amusement.
“Nothing in particular.”
“Oh come on, I bet there is a great story behind this.” You insisted, only to be treated with more silence.
You didn’t need to take a look at his face to know he was sulking. With his eye narrowing to a slit, and the pouty expression of his lips, you’d grown plenty familiar with that side of his. What others saw as menacing, you only saw as absolutely adorable, to the point of you refusing to spend another minute apart.
You really had missed him.
“It’s fine. No need to tell me.” You mumbled as you pressed your head against the nape of his neck.
He was insistent on facing the opposite direction, but you didn’t mind. As long as he gave you the freedom to wrap your arms around his torso, to take in on his wonderfully intoxicating scent, to pepper every inch of bare skin you could find in kisses, then it was all fine by you.
“You plan on using that?” He eventually asked, huffing some of the smoke your way.
“Not if I can help it. I’d still choose to use you over anyone and anything else.” You cooed, planting your lips near the shell of his ear. “Only you can make me feel this way.”
“And what would that way be?” He asked in a gentler tone.
“Just, you know.” You left a peck upon his cheek. “The best kind of way.”
Although he didn’t mean for you to see it, a tiny smile broke through his grave expression as he caved in to your touch. That was Takasugi for you. No matter the sharpness of his eye, and the shrewdness of his words, the way his free hand cupped over your own revealed all you needed to know. From the moment you first took hold of each other, to this moment here, he remained as enamored with you as he was back then.
The two of you stayed like that for quite a while, until Takasugi drew his kiseru away from his lips to store it inside his clothes.
“What do you want?” He asked, circling his thumb over your knuckles.
“Hmm?” You tilted your head.
“Is there anything you want for your birthday?”
“You knew?” You yelped, letting go of him at once.
“You take me for an idiot?” Takasugi inquired as he turned around.
“….No.” You sighed. Switching out ‘birthday’ for autumn had really done it.
It wasn’t as if you actively tried to keep your birthday a secret, but with the war and him turning to terrorism, there was never really an appropriate moment to mention it. You couldn’t simply show up one day with cake and balloons and surprise your own self, and being the one to casually announce it didn’t feel quite right either. In the end, you pushed this occasion to the back of your brain, the sole reminder of which became Sakamoto’s annual presents.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked with genuine concern.
“It’s not that I didn’t want to, it’s just that,” you lowered your head “I didn’t want to weigh you down with another responsibility. I know how exhausting everything is for you, I see it every single day when you collapse in bed without saying a word. I don’t want to be the one to add more to that, nor do I wish to pressure you into buying me a gift or pulling a surprise on me. Just getting to spend my every day with you is enough for me.”
“Y/N.” His voice commanded. “Our lives so far have been filled with more sorrows than I care to count. My eye has seen more horrors than I wish to remember. Do you really think that your birthday would add to either?”
“N-no…” You admitted, shying away from his gaze.
“Then I find no reason for you to be keeping that from me. We’ve each carried the other’s sorrows long enough. Let us carry a joy for once.”
He was right. If only you’d just mentioned it to him before, then you wouldn’t have to embarrass yourself like this in front of him. It was only right that he knew, especially when you’d never missed the chance to surprise him on his own birthday.
“So tell me. Is there anything you want?” Takasugi asked again.
“Are you serious about the ‘anything’ part?” You smiled in mischief, quickly snapping out of your own dejection.
Arching an eyebrow, Takasugi took a step closer until you stood eye to eye. You couldn’t tell whether he was trying to read your mind or intimidate you into giving up on your idea, but either way, you both knew it was too late for him to go back on his offer.
“You’ll really do anything I ask?”
He was most likely regretting ever suggesting that, though he didn’t show it. Instead, he merely nodded, perhaps his curiosity winning him over a second time.
“…Sure.”
This was all the confirmation you needed. “Then, follow me!”
“What kind of wish fulfilling involves a kitchen?” Takasugi asked the second you set foot in the ship’s kitchen.
Out of all the shenanigans you’d gotten him mixed up in, out of every bad idea he’d suffered through, this one would come to top them all. But it was your birthday, and he’d been so generous as to present you with an once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that you weren’t too keen on brushing off. Even if he protested, even if he tried to claw his way out, you’d make sure that by the time the two of you left the room, it’d be with your objective in hand; a cake.
“Shinsuke, what is the first thing you think about when you hear the word ‘birthday’?”
“Death.” He bluntly stated. “It’s a reminder that your time is running out.”
“Weren’t you the one who spoke against sharing nothing but sorrows?” You argued in disbelief. It wasn’t unusual for him to be grim, but that was beyond your expectations. “Let’s just skip to the point. A birthday without cake is no birthday at all.”
His expression had turned completely vacant, to the point of you being able to hear imaginary crickets chirping in the background.
“My wish is for you to bake me a cake!”
Even more chirping.
Had he not heard you? You weren’t too sure about that, though once he turned to the door, you realized he’d not only been listening to your every word, but was already planning his escape.
“You said you’d-ugh, do anything! You can’t-ugh, leave!” You exclaimed as you threw yourself to the door, blocking the exit with your body.
Just like he had no intention of honoring his word, you had no intention of letting him go either. A direct confrontation would result in your defeat, but when you managed to get hold of the door’s key, there was little he could do. It was game over. At least for now.
“You know, this won’t be enough to stop me.” Takasugi sneered, watching as you stuffed the key inside your kimono. “There are many ways for me to get that key back.”
“I’d like to see you try. The only way outside these holy grounds is through my satisfaction.”
At your declaration, he couldn’t help but quirk an eyebrow.
“Now, let’s get to work!” You said as you paced further inside the room, a groaning Takasugi following closely.
Truth is, you’d only been in the kitchen a handful times before. The Kiheitai already possessed designated personnel to handle everyone’s meals, and unless either of you wanted to snack on something specific, -namely, Takasugi on his beloved beverage- there was no need to spend any time in here, meaning, you had no idea where to find anything.
Starting with the fridge seemed like a reasonable idea, you thought to yourself as you tied your hair into a high ponytail. Eggs, butter and, thankfully, heavy cream. You laid everything on top of the counter before making your way around the drawers, checking the final ingredients off your list. So far, so good.
The real struggle came with finding the appropriate utensils. Bowls and cutlery were easy enough to locate. You even got yourself a light-pink apron in the process, yet no matter how hard you looked, the mixer was nowhere to be found.
“Where is the mixer?” You asked once you’d checked just about every cabinet.
“How am I supposed to know? What kind of faction do you think I’m running?” He snapped, refusing to help in the slightest.
Disappointed, you were about to call it quits when you remembered seeing a whisk somewhere in there, which wasn’t quite the same, but if a certain glaring samurai were to assist, nothing was impossible.
“There’s a whisk!” You announced, presenting it to him.
More cricket sounds. He looked at it as if he’d never seen another.
“You really haven’t cooked anything in your life, have you?”
“I have.” He lied.
“What was it?” You crossed your arms over your chest.
“Onigiri.”
“That doesn’t make you any less of a culinary virgin, Shinsuke. I bet Zura was the one to handle the majority of the work while all you did was boss him around.” You accused, waving the whisk at his face.
“Not a lie.” He smirked.
“It’s a wonder people follow you when you refuse to get your hands dirty.” You mumbled. “But fear not! Today, your cherry gets popped. As long as we are in here, you are no Kiheitai leader, but a rookie whose wish is my com-no, my wish is your command” You corrected. “Understood?”
Although evidently irritated, Takasugi ended up agreeing to your suggestion, going so far as to accept the whisk from your hands.
“Perhaps you could call me senpai while you’re at it-”
“Not a chance, birthday girl.” He interrupted.
“Fine, fine. Let’s start with the base.”
One by one, you tossed the ingredients in the bowl, while he mixed them together with just about zero enthusiasm. He was such a handful!
“You know, it will take forever if you do it like that.” You commented, slipping behind his back and then claiming his hand with yours. “Let me show you.”
Propping your chin on top of his shoulder, you started to vigorously shake his hand back and forth around the bowl, making sure that everything got mixed thoroughly.
“If you don’t do it this way, the ingredients won’t mesh well together and there will be lumps of flour.” You explained, unaware of how rather than paying attention to your words, Takasugi kept staring down your lips.
As he got the hang of it, his hand began moving on its own. “That’s it! Keep it up, and-”
Before you could finish your sentence, you took notice in how close the two of you were. With your bodies pressed together and his lips curling into a lazy smile, you forgot all about what it was that you wanted to say.
“Y-you can handle things from here.” You stuttered, pulling yourself away. “I’ll go bring the pan.”
Even after all these years, it was so easy for him to get under your skin. One look of his, and your mind was already filling up with intrusive thoughts that involved him using his hands on something else. He’d always been skilled with his fingers, be it at fighting, cooking, or…
Get your shit together, you scolded yourself, repeatedly patting your palms flat against your burning cheeks.
“What’s taking you so long?” His voice queried from the other side of the room.
“Coming!”
Once the pan was in the oven and the timer set, the time for the the filling came. Neither your supplies nor your skills allowed much room for creativity and so, you decided to keep things simple. Some heavy cream and sugar would do just fine, but even for that, his help was needed.
“Can you do this for me?” You brought a clean bowl forth.
“Is that a question, or a command?” Takasugi asked.
“A little bit of both.” You smiled as he took the bowl from your hands. “Do it harder than before. You’ll know it’s ready when peaks start to form.”
It was nice to see him take things more seriously. For someone who was fixed on destroying the world, to be baking cakes certainly was out of character, but at the same time, the image felt somewhat natural to you.
Back when the outcome of the war had yet to be defined, and the two of you had the freedom to dream, you’d pictured such a life countless of times. Instead of sneaking around between stranded beaches and hollow willow trees, you’d be greeting each other under the same roof. He’d nag about the different ways Gintoki -or another of his subordinates- got on his nerves that day, while you’d be setting the table, welcoming his every complaint with a warm smile.
Then after you’d finish dining, you’d move onto the couch under the pretense of watching some crappy show none of you cared about, just he could snake his arm around your shoulders. And at the first yawn, you’d lay side by side on the same bed where you’d be free to cradle his face in your hands and fawn over how beautiful your reflection appeared in his emerald green eyes. You’d whisper ‘I love you’s’ to each other with no fear for tomorrow, knowing that this life would not be taken away from you.
The Takasugi in front of you resembled that of your dreams a lot, except this one kept hissing in frustration at his sleeves. No matter how many times he rolled them out of the way, they insisted to fall inside the bowl, cutting his movements short. With a smile, you placed your hand on top of his. This version of him was perfect enough already.
“Need some help?” You teased, lifting one of his sleeves out of the way.
“I’m fine.” He didn’t sound convincing in the slightest.
You chuckled at his refusal. He was always like that, as if it would kill for him to receive the aid of anyone. If he could bring this world down by himself, then you had no doubt, he’d choose to do that without speaking to another soul. Be it his burdens or his sleeves, unless you forcefully lifted them for him, then he’d insist on doing things the hard way.
With some his frustration evaporating, Takasugi managed to bring the cream to its appropriate state; not too fluffy and not too thick either. You let go off his sleeves and he let go of the whisk, turning the bowl around so to inspect it properly.
“Looks good.” He deducted.
You nodded in agreement. “Let’s see…”
Dipping the tip of a spoon in, you took a taste of your creation. He really had a knack for this. It tasted wonderful!
“Mmm, it’s sweet.” You exclaimed, licking it clean. “Want some?”
For a moment, you saw him contemplate his answer before reaching out. You took it as an invitation, and so you dipped the spoon back in, though you never had the chance to deliver it. Instead, your hand was caught mid-air by his, with your unsuspecting lips falling victim to his own. You gasped, nearly letting go off the spoon as you closed your eyes, finding a taste far more wonderful than any cream you’d ever tasted.
“Indeed.” He breathed. “Very sweet.”
With his fingers pressing at your wrist, Takasugi pulled you closer, until you landed in his arms, and until the thought of holding onto that stupid spoon vanished behind a loud clang. He pressed a kiss upon your lips and then you pressed another, your tongues tugging and swirling in imperfect sync, as you both felt the heat rise in between your bodies. You wanted more, and he was more than willing to take from you.
It was only when you felt his palms dropping to your bum that you realized what he was trying to do. That bastard was way too damn good at this.
“Seducing me won’t work.” You whispered and he chuckled, not at your words, but at how you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away from him.
“It won’t?” He taunted, fully aware of the answer. Whatever it was that he was doing, you had no power to resist.
Without breaking apart from your mouth, Takasugi carried you all the way towards the closest unoccupied flat surface he could find. A cold sensation trickled down your spine as you made contact with the hard metal. Not in a million years would you ever think that you’d be doing this with him, yet there you were, spreading your legs wide open for him to nest in between.
His arm remained hooked around your waist when all of a sudden you felt him stop. You opened your eyes along with your lips, sheepishly staring at him with nothing but desire, of which he took advantage. His thumb trailed the outline of your jawline before swiping over your bottom lip. Without thinking twice, you puckered up your lips against it, pressing a peck so gentle as his smile. God, he was so beautiful in that moment, words he stole right out your mouth.
Letting go of you completely, Takasugi lowered himself until his knees met with the floor and the tips of his fingers with your thighs. You glanced down at him, watching as he balanced your knees upon his shoulders, his own gaze solely fixated at your entrance.
“Wh-what are you doing?” You asked, your voice coming out like a croak.
“You wanted to order me around, did you not?” His breath tickled as he moved his head closer. “Look where my hands are now, Y/N.” He demanded, squeezing at your skin. “And my lips.” He went on, leaving each thigh with a kiss. “And my tongue.”
A sharp inhale got caught up in your throat as you felt his wet tongue lap over your clothed slit, the feeling only amplified by the way his eye bore into yours.
“Go ahead and order.” He mumbled, running his tongue along your lips, lest you weren’t convinced already. “How should I use them?”
You had a hard time distinguishing between dream and reality right now. While he always made sure you got to have as much fun as he did, he’d never been this accommodating before, and in a semi-public space, least of all places. You barely believed in your eyes, but then again, the dripping sensation between your legs told no lies. This was all very much reality, and you wouldn’t let it go to waste.
“D-do that again,” you stammered. “I like it when you tease me.”
A faint chuckle followed your bashful confession, it feeding directly into his pride.
In less than a heartbeat, Takasugi complied with your demand. With his fingers squeezing lower, his mouth pressing firmer, and his tongue languidly moving across every inch of your folds, he left no spot untouched. You tried to look down, though your apron stood in the way of getting a clear view. All you saw was a head of purple peak underneath, and that certainly was not enough.
“I wanna see.”
Hands slid around your waist, his eye being the first to undress your body. One by one, the knots of your kimono and apron came undone, bringing both fabrics to simply drape over your bare figure, a sight not even he could resist.
Rather than going back down, his fingers snuck past your garment and onto your breast, trailing your hardened peak all the way to the soft curve of your skin. You smiled. After all, you loved that kind of attention from him.
Once he’d had enough, he returned to his knees, both of you having gained sufficiently better view of each other. You placed your feet atop his shoulders, prodding him to get back into business. A single finger hooked around the elastic of your underwear, with him seeking confirmation in your features. Perhaps you could get used to this compliant side of his.
“Take them off.” You instructed without hesitation, wiggling your hips to accommodate him.
The moment he rid of that final restraint, Takasugi plunged forward, his impatience showing every step of the way. If it were any other occasion, he’d have about zero qualm to push you down and take you however he pleased, but for now, you could tell he was doing his absolute best to remain tame for the sake of honoring his word.
Tentatively, he rolled his tongue outside his mouth and onto your entrance, his fingers spreading your lips for him to pepper the area with short kitten licks. You sighed, little by little feeling your clit swelling up under his touch. This was nowhere near what you’d imagined when you first walked ins that kitchen, but now, it was everything you craved.
“Give me your hand.” You asked, extending your own in his direction.
His hand found yours midway as he directed his attention to your fingers. You weren’t too sure whether he’d catch your drift or not, but it was worth a try. With your index, you traced the inside of his palm in a straight line, pressing firmly at the end of it before repeating the same gesture from the top. Not too gentle, but not too rough either. Just how you wanted to be touched.
In the same manner your finger brushed his skin, his flattened tongue came to glide over your slit only to stop short at your clit, following the same route all over again. For a second time, you sighed, your arousal gradually building with each stroke. The familiarity between you allowed no room for mistakes; he knew exactly what you needed.
“You taste better than any damn cake in this world.” Takasugi commented for the first time in a while, closing his lips over your clit.
“D-don’t insult our cake!” You felt him smirk at your objection, his teeth barely grazing over your sensitive spot, be it enough to make you moan.
“Want me to go a bit harder?” He asked, lazily swirling over your clit.
“I suppose you can.” You answered, hiding your embarrassment behind a pout. Years later and his effect on you had not worn off.
Lacing his fingers with yours, Takasugi began to follow a pattern of his own, the kind to set all your pretty sounds free. With his one hand rubbing at your thigh, he made sure you got to watch your clit disappear into his mouth, each kiss of his leaving it wetter than the previous one.
“F-fuck…”
You could feel every bump of his tongue massage your cluster of nerves, the warmth of his mouth making it feel as if he was attempting to rekindle a fire in you, one that had all but been extinguished. He wanted you to burn, just so he could burn with you. Just so you could feel every single emotion his tongue failed to describe engraved upon your body.
In no time, he had you moaning nothing but the sound of his name, occasionally no more than the sharp consonants of his initials coming out. It felt so good. Too good. He kept flicking and curling, while you kept tossing and turning, your hips squirming away while your fingers gripped closer, at his fingers, at his hair, anywhere you could find, anywhere you could anchor in.
Muffled sounds mixed in with your cries, as Takasugi kept gushing over you, his saliva and your fluids streaming down your throbbing holes. But the lewd sound of your squelching under his tongue, came only second to the far more obscene expression of his face. He looked so messed up, with his disheveled hair and bandages dropping over his forehead. So messed up that part of you couldn’t help but want to mess him up even further.
You weren’t even thinking straight anymore. Your judgment was completely clouded by primal instincts and sheer pleasure. All you knew was that you wanted him, that you’d spent every breathing moment of your life wanting and yearning for him, even when he’d always been by your side. You wanted to never let go, you wanted to become one with him. Now, and forever.
Your grip on his hair relaxed enough for you to push a loose strip of bandage that blocked his vision behind his ear. He hummed in response, his gratitude pouring in the way his hand held yours ever so lovingly. You tried your best to keep your gaze fixed on his, though the second he slid in one of his fingers, you had no choice but to fall back, your hips solely jerking forward.
You cursed again and again, until no word that made sense came out of your mouth, until the room began to spin, the bright kitchen lights and the buzzing of a bell filled in the void of your eyes. Briefly, you felt him pull out of you, his lips insisting on placing a series of tender kisses along your opening and thighs as if he were the one thanking you.
“Y/N.” The hoarse sound of your name fell on deaf ears. You were too preoccupied with your own bliss to answer him.
“Aren’t you going to get that?” He went on.
“Get… that?” Unwillingly you opened your eyes, completely clueless over what he was talking about.
The ringing had all but ceased inside your head, when you realized it had nothing to do with your orgasm. The cake!
In an instant, you flew to the other side of the kitchen, one hand attempting to piece your outfit together, while the other fumbled around the oven’s buttons. Were you a minute late, the cake would’ve gotten burnt to a crisp, and your entire struggle would’ve been over nothing.
“Couldn’t you handle it?” You protested, throwing a punch in the air as he approached you.
“Hmm? I don’t recall receiving such command.” He smirked, capturing each of your fists in his own before they got the chance to land.
“You!” You grunted and he grinned, finding your annoyed expression infinitely amusing, though perhaps, the funniest thing about this scene was the way a half-naked woman retaliated against him in the middle of a kitchen floor.
Maybe if you saw things from that perspective, you’d also be laughing, but for now, all you were was severely distracted and unsure of how to proceed. Your mind kept telling you to get things in order and finish with your cake’s assembly, while another less prim and proper part of you, kept urging you to jump his bones on the spot. Curse you, Takasugi Shinsuke and your stupidly stupid smile.
“Shall we wrap things up, or will you insist on attacking me?” He asked, his chin still glistening with your juices.
“…Get yourself cleaned up first.” You pulled your hands off him in defeat. There was no point of keeping this up.
After the two of you went back to appearing somewhat presentable, you explained how the cake needed some time to cool down, and how in the meantime, you could prepare additional toppings, such as those strawberries you’d previously located in the refrigerator.
Surprisingly enough, he seemed eager enough to assist without you having to ask. Where knives were involved, he found himself right in his element.
In no time, Takasugi made quick work of the strawberries, slicing them into smaller pieces, while all there was left for you to do was gawk at his broad shoulders. He seemed so focused, that even when you paraded back and forth, even when you forced a dry cough here and there, he paid no mind. Just what were you doing?
“What are you doing?” He read through your mind.
No answer could justify your actions. It was because of you that he’d found himself in this situation, but it was because of him that the insistent sensation between your legs wouldn’t go away. If your thoughts were that easy for him to read, then he’d know firsthand of how you felt right now.
His fingers had no reason to be busied with cutlery and fruit. They belonged around your hips, holding you down, lest you arch your back too high.
Be it against the counter, the table, the floor, or even the sink, you longed to see that familiar glint in his eye, the one he only showed when sheathed deep within your heat. You wanted the only sound in the room to be that of his husky breathing evolving to a singular growl right before he spilled in your guts.
If he could really read your mind, he’d know of all that. He’d know of how much you wanted him and how maddening that was. Screw Yato women, what were you supposed to do about your own frustration?
“You know, we’ll probably be in here a while longer.” You suggested, moving up behind him.
“And?” Amusement dripped of his voice as you rest your chin upon his shoulder.
“And we could have some more fun to ourselves.” Your arms looped around his exposed chest. “We’ve never done it in here before.”
Despite him continuously driving the knife down the cutting board, his pace had slowed down. He could act disinterested all he wanted, but his actions suggested otherwise.
“And?”
“And,” you lowered your hands round his nether area, elated to feel his hardened cock poking at your fingertips. “I can tell I’m not the only one excited by the prospect.”
“And?” He hummed, having let go of the knife.
“And I’m sick of playing games.” Your lips tugged at his earlobe, while you kept on palming him.
“Weren’t you the one who wanted to play house?”
“I was,” you admitted, “but now, I want you.”
“You grow more shameless with each year.” He accused, flaunting the kind of smirk you wanted to bite right off his lips.
“Can you blame me?”
“I guess not.”
One step was all it took for you to be pressed against the counter, the soft sensation of his mouth overriding the sharp edges of the drawers. It felt uncomfortable and rushed, but you couldn’t care less. The way his tongue wet over your bottom lip was enough to soothe the pain, enough to quell the thirst you had for him.
It’d always been like this. Every time Takasugi kissed you, you were brought back to that moonless summer night by the coastline, the place where you’d first gotten taste of each other. It felt as desperate as the sea’s foam clinging to the shore, and as certain as the promise of the incoming tide, liberating and drowning you all at once.
Deft fingers came digging at your waist, barely undoing each garment for him to ravish what was rightfully his. You helped him remove the kimono, though when it came to the apron, he didn’t allow for you to take it off. He loved the sight of you in it, but more importantly, he loved the fantasy of normality that came along, the manifestation of what your lives could have been.
Enveloped in his warm embrace, you took the opportunity to run your fingers over his skin, trailing them down his chest, his abdomen, and eventually, his crotch. He’d been in such hurry to leave that he’d neglected to wear an underwear. It was a wonder he’d never gotten arrested for public indecency, you mentally chuckled, wrapping your fingers around his shaft and then slowly pumping him.
A hand caressed your own, before moving onto your chest, drawing a tit outside the apron’s coverage. His hot breath replaced his fingers as he dipped forward, sucking your nipple right into his mouth. The sensation made your grip tighten, inducing a soft sigh to fall against your skin. He glanced at you, the green in his eye hazy while he moved higher to leave his mark, making sure that today would be more than just a memory to reminisce.
You dragged him closer, driving his cock to your slicked entrance. Playing around was nice, but definitely not as nice as being filled, a sentiment he seemed to share.
Takasugi placed his hands below your thighs, giving you little time to react when he lifted you up. You gasped, quickly knitting your fingers behind his neck to support yourself, while he held you close, shoving your hips together.
“Where to?” He rasped in between heavy breathing.
“Right here.” The second you gave your answer, you pressed your lips against his, unwilling to stray from his touch any longer.
With great care, he sat you atop the counter, his palms prompting your legs to dangle over the edge for him to position himself. You backed away ever so slightly, keen on watching his thumb continuously swipe over the head and your clit up until he allowed your lips to swallow him. You bit a moan back and he smiled, slowly pushing deeper, replacing your neediness with ecstatic pleasure.
“This is much better than Master Sword 69.” You jested, forcing him to shush you with his mouth, lest he let himself laugh at such a horrid joke.
You felt his tongue roll around yours in sync with his hips, the firm sensation of his pubic bone pressuring your clit whenever he slammed his cock inside. You moaned, nibbling at his lips while he grunted, digging his fingers at your hips to push you further against his thrusts. You loved it when he handled you like that, though you both knew he wouldn’t last much at this pace.
Eventually he slowed down, resorting to merely sheathing himself within your folds. He was already throbbing, his seed begging to spill inside your womb. You rocked your hips a tiny bit and he pulled away halfway before sinking back in, unable to truly part from you. Panted breaths mixed in with soft chuckles, the two of you finding great amusement in how naturally your bodies were drawn together, palpitating with desire.
“I can’t believe I’m yours.” You breathed, ghosting your lips over his. “Even after all these years, I can’t believe I was fortunate enough to have met you.”
“Hopefully you got your money’s worth.” He smirked.
“You make it sound as if you are a prostitute.”
Takasugi rolled his eye, returning his attention to your lower half. Even when he was balls deep inside, you couldn’t help but poke fun at him. Getting on his nerves never got old.
Faster than before, his hips snapped against yours, as if he was trying to fuck you into becoming less of a vixen. You paid no mind to that, fully enjoying the way his cock rammed in your sweet spot, until all of a sudden, sharp pain had you yelping. He stopped, a look of concern spreading to his features while you rubbed at the back of your skull. He’d gone so hard that you’d banged your head against the cabinet.
“So clumsy.” He mumbled, guising his mistake as yours.
You were about to complain when he started moving again, only this time, rather than feeling the cold metal boring into your head, you only felt the softness of his palm shielding you from harm.
“Shut up.” He hushed before you had the chance to say a single word.
Not that you really could, either. With how hard he pounded you, the only sounds you could make were whimpers, little by little being driven over the edge.
Stars still flickered past your shut eyelids as you used your last bit of energy to embrace him, propping your chin upon your arm. His hands searched for support against the counter while he began to fall out of rhythm, his thrusts leading to him cumming deep within your walls.
“Happy Birthday, Y/N.” He was still throbbing as he said those three little words, words you never knew how much you longed to hear.
All these birthdays had gone by without a single gift or wish, but even if you could receive any gift, even if you could make any wish, you’d still choose him, you’d still wish for only him. In the end, all those forgotten gifts and wishes amounted to nothing. What was most important to you was right there in your arms. The most precious thing in life, your partner, your lover, your…family.
“Can you keep being my gift?” You asked, nuzzling in his shoulder. “Next year, and the year after that, can I keep asking for you?”
Takasugi spared no answer. Not because he didn’t want to, but because part of him knew there was always a possibility that the very first birthday you’d spent together might as well be the last he’d ever get to celebrate with you. And so he said nothing, choosing to splay his hands over your lower back in a tender motion.
“I don’t want anything other than you. There’s no one else I’d rather share such moments with, so can you please keep on being my present?” You insisted, demanding for a lie he was not too keen on giving.
A sigh heaved up his chest as he slowly moved away from you. “Quit being this mushy.” He mumbled, turning around.
Part of his cum poured down your thighs as you propped yourself against the counter.
Maybe you shouldn’t have said that. Maybe you shouldn’t make him commit to a promise he’d be unable to honor, but then again you had a hard time holding back when you loved him this much. The mere idea of spending a birthday on your own gave you goosebumps. It had to be with him. No matter what, he had to be there.
Takasugi returned a minute later with a couple of paper towels in hand. He took in your sour expression, realizing you probably took this short time to reflect upon the future, one you weren’t guaranteed to share.
“You’re such a mess.” He sank to his knees, gently cleaning after the mess he made between your legs.
“As long as I can help it, I promise.”
Following the rather eventful time you spent inside the kitchen, you’d made sure not to leave any traces of your little adventure behind, while he’d made sure to remind you of how easy it’d been for him to claim the key. You didn’t even notice he’d taken it from you until it was time to head out. That sly piece of…
But, you couldn’t complain. Not about his mocking, and not about his refusal to help clean either. The cake turned to be a great success, both in taste and appearance, and you could now finally reap your rewards in the comfort of his bedroom. Bit by bit the platter emptied with only about half the dessert remaining. You hadn’t eaten a single thing all day long, and the unscheduled ‘work-out’ had taken its toll on your poor legs.
Once the two of you finished eating, Takasugi brought forth his shamisen to tune it, while you fished out a piece of paper and a pen to write Sakamoto a letter. There was so much you wanted to tell him. About your trips, the Kiheitai, and of course, about Takasugi.
Outside your letters, Sakamoto never got to hear a word about or from his old friend. You’d seen Takasugi scribble some words, but they never reached his ears. All were torn into confetti.
You knew how much he missed the past. How deep his longing to meet with his friends again ran within his heart and how hard it was for him to express his innermost feelings. You knew all that, and although there was nothing you could do in order to help bridge the gap, letting Sakamoto know of his friend’s well-being wouldn’t harm. Behind his back, or not.
“What are you smiling about?” He asked without lifting head from his instrument.
“Nothing in particular. Just disproving some false claims.” You hid a dry cough behind your fist as you begun to read. “Dear Tatsuma, all’s well here, thanks for asking. I hope your business keeps expanding and you don’t get thrown out in space by Mutsu again. Your gift brought me great joy, but don’t assume I’ll let you win that easily. P.S. Don’t underestimate Shinsuke. He is an incredible lover and really great at-”
Before you could finish reading the supposed letter, Takasugi grabbed it from within your grasp, only to scoff at the lack of ink.
“You are incorrigible” He returned the paper to the table while you chuckled, earning yourself another of his infamous glares.
Rather than picking up the pen, you opted for the spoon, digging back in the remaining piece you’d left in your plate. “It’s true though. You really are an incredible lover and great at cooking.” You swallowed. “You know, it’s not too late to change career, Shinsuke.”
He shrugged, tightening and then striking one of the strings. “I’ll consider leaving the world with just a stove.”
“So what did you think of today? What was it like to make something from scratch?”
“Harder than watching Zura make onigiri.”
You laughed and he smiled just a little bit, the sound of his playing as mellow as his features.
“You’d rather just sit back and watch?”
He nodded, first setting his tuner and then his shamisen to the side. An invitation for you to scoot closer, one that you gracefully accepted by laying your head against his shoulder. For someone who lifted such a heavy burden, he surely felt lightweight as a pillow.
“Let’s just say I wouldn’t mind seeing you in an apron more often.” Takasugi said, picking up his own plate. He was never big on sweets, but he’d at the very least eaten half of what you’d served.
“Makes you resemble a proper housewife.” He smirked after shoving a bite.
“Calling me a housewife when you haven’t even put a ring on my finger.”
Your joke failed to land any chuckles apart from your own. If anything, it had the opposite effect on him, with his expression instantly turning sour.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that-”
“Except you did.” He sighed, dropping the plate along with the spoon back on the table, while you sat up to look at him.
“Y/N, I’ve halfed-assed many things in life, us included. Years later, and I still don’t know how to do this properly. But what I do know is that when we share a bed together, when we share what little’s left of our souls with one another, when we share a life, then that makes us as good as married, does it not?”
At the sound of his words, you felt your cheeks radiating with heat. How could he speak in such nonchalant way? He’d never called you so much as a girlfriend or a partner, and now went around addressing you as a wife? His wife?
“What? Scared to be called a terrorist’s wife?” Takasugi taunted.
“Terrorist? What terrorist?” You brought a hand onto your forehead, pretending to look around. “I see nothing but a samurai, and that would make me into a samurai’s wife.”
Your answer seemed to satisfy him enough to crack a smile, one that you eagerly returned.
“An idiot, a terrorist, and a samurai. I’ve been called all three in just one day.” He absently trailed over your fingers with his own.
“Only an idiotic samurai could ever turn to terrorism. To me, Shinsuke, you are the same boy I met back then. The one who’s unafraid to raise his sword in the name of a lost cause.”
You meant to assure him, but he only ended up snickering in amusement.
“I really haven’t changed, have I?”
“Not at all.” You expressed with a nod of your head. “But If I may say so myself, you’ve gotten a tad grumpier. It’s as if your grumpiness increases with each passing year.”
His amusement turned to irritation in a moment’s notice, though that did not dishearten you from making further comments. It was always amusing to see how far his tolerance would reach, but when he finally boiled over, your sounds turned muffled.
“Shut up and eat the damn cake already.” Takasugi huffed, having shoved a spoonful of cake in between your parted lips.
Once he felt you swallowing, he pulled his hand away, only for your mouth to follow it, seeking to be fed again. He glared and you insisted, drawing out a long ‘A’ sound until he caved in.
“Such a lousy wife.”
The next morning found you alone in bed, with Takasugi having seemingly disappeared from your side. This was hardly unlike him. Come morning light, he always had this tendency of running off with Bansai, handling the kind of issues you failed to wrap your head around. Can’t be helped.
Your eyes shut once more, refusing to open up just yet. It was so early and there was nothing for you to do, other than to spend another dull day in space. Or at least, that’s what you thought until you stretched your hand onto the pillow beside you, your fingers meeting with the cold roundness of a foreign object; a ring of gold.
“Such a lousy husband.” You exclaimed with a smile brighter than the sun itself.
#takasugi x reader#takasugi shinsuke x reader#takasugi shinsuke oneshot#takasugi shinsuke fanfiction#takasugi#takasugi smut#gintama#gintama smut#gintama fanfiction#gintama oneshot#ginama imagine#takasugi imagine#takasugi reader#takasugi gintama#takasugi shinsuke
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I love Kaia, but you congratulate her so much for where she is now but you don’t congratulate Austin for working hard for decades with no connections and getting where he is. I find that weird. Can you explain why? I’m not looking to attack just a conversation. And then you sort of just accused him of using Kaia and her connections. He still works very hard to get what he has. Nobody is hiring him because he knows Cindy Crawford. His dedication hard work and talent is why he gets hired.
well she was on a late night show last night and he was not- that's the simplest possible answer here. i post about what's going on and when she's doing more publicly than him at any given time then that's going to bleed over to who i post more about. during mota and dune press i barley posted about *her* to the extent that i got some anons asking if i still liked her! i think that's just how running a blog for more than one person shakes out, i'm sure i'll "fall behind" with posting about her when bikeriders press starts and we're seeing more of austin out and about.
and it was her first *ever* late night interview, which is a big deal! and getting to experience a milestone like that for someone i'm a fan of was really nice. i wasn't in the fandom for austin's first late night appearance, i would've jumped up and down and cheered for that too if i was. last fall when the first bikeriders reviews came out of telluride and they were so glowing about austin it made me *cry* over how proud i was. and then i got a few anons bitching at me asking why i "didn't think he was capable" and "had to prove himself" lol. when i say it feels like i can never win on here...
i've said multiple times on both here and twitter in the past almost 2 years that ive run this blog that i'm very proud of austin. me also being proud of kaia/enjoying seeing her hitting milestones like late night interviews this doesn't negate that at all. i'm proud of them in like- different ways if that makes sense? austin, for like what you said, putting his nose to the grindstone and hustling to get to where he is now. kaia for going after her dreams re: acting vs modeling and for what she's doing to grow her passion project, book club/library science.
and no, i didn't accuse him of that. i said in a preceding tweet that that absolutely not why they're dating. their relationship isn't fake or "just for connections" on either side! it *is* however ridiculous when people accuse kaia of only using austin for his connections when she, as a nepo baby, has a million connections of her own and doesn't "need him" to get her foot in the door in the industry. isn't that the whole reason ppl are anti nepo baby? the "privilege of connections"?.
anyone who would genuinely suggest austin is only using kaia for her connections is also goofy bc their relationship isn't PR/i think it's clear he's with her because he wants to be with her. it's just hypocritical, and a little silly to act dating a nepo baby as a non nepo baby comes with absolutely 0 connections benefit at all. and that's not a bad thing either! as a huge fan of laura dern i love that she’s a mentor to him/they're buddies now bc of it! george clooney came to his defense when asked about his voice bc, as george said himself, the time he's spent around austin because he's dating his best friend's daughter. the 'butterfly effect' is pretty damn cool. i don't see it as an insult to chat about.
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ROMY AND MICHELES HIGH SCHOOL REUNION- 1997 ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Romy (Mira Sorvino) and Michele (Lisa Kudrow) are best friends who never fit in with "The A Group" in high school and were tormented by its leader, Christy Masters. After a chance encounter with old classmate Heather (Janeane Garofalo), they find out about their upcoming high school reunion back in Tucson.
They want to go back and show everyone how successful they are now. But after they realise they arent as succesful as they thought, they decide to lie and create fake accomplishments.
Like inventing post it notes.
Obsessed with this movie. Lisa Kudrow and Mira Sorvino are both absolutely hilarious in it and work perfectly together. Romy and Michele are ditzy, but endearing ditzy not annoying ditzy. So many hilarious moments and lines.
One of the most underated soundtracks also. It introduced me to so many songs that became some of my favourites.
Dont get me wrong by The Pretenders.
Time After Time by Cyndi Lauper.
Just a Girl by No Doubt.
Blood & Roses by The Smithereens.
Cruel Summer by Bananarama.
And many more.
Romy and Micheles High School Reunion is a very unique comedy film. For example the extremely long dream sequence that happens when Michele dozes off on the way to the reunion. It goes on forever and gets very surreal.
The moment when Romy thinks Billy is going to dance with her but then disappears is legit one of the saddest things ive seen in a movie.
Time After Time plus Micheles "ill dance with you Romy" line always breaks me.
The movie made a very modest profit of around 10 million dollars at the box office. It has developed a cult following in the years since its release.
Directed by David Mirkin.
One of my favourite movies.
Also, Lisa Kudrow and Mira Sorvino recently reunited at an awards ceremony looking great and have said that a possible sequel is closer than ever. Would really love to see that.
#romy and michele's high school reunion#movie#film#movie review#comedy movie#cult movie#90s#mira sorvino#lisa ludrow
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tsu!!
My identity hc for them
see tomori, strike that, reverse it! he knows he likes guys, and he's kinda just seeing what happens past that! hes vibing w/himself and hes just kinda chilling, hes content without a label for his attraction
aaaand hes a trans lad! similar to tomori sometimes he feels more binary trans sometimes not he's really just chillin ! to make this section longer uhhhm. i think his relationship with his past is like. "i have always been a boy, my body is a guys body, and when i was younger i was a boy, same as today. but also i was a girl once i was a small little girl and she is not alive anymore but also she is still here standing right in front of u when u look at me, same as she ever was and as she always will be. but also i am me myself and i am a boy. okie?" and refuses to explain or elaborate (he probably said this to kouhei. kouhei doesnt ask hes just like "okie". tbh kouhei prolly didnt ask in the first place tsu just started talking)
Thoughts on their home life/family
! yk as special reward for everyone who takes the time to read through this i will give u a spoile-y. as a treat. tsurugi was born when a piece of snow came in through a chimney and landed in the fire. and many many miles away, from the stump of the tree that was cut down to be logs for that fire, tsurugi tumbled out of a naturally occurring divot in the wood. this is very true and i just hope u all know the power that comes with this information!!! <333
(ofc, thats all jokes! tsu is a bunch of ice crystals from a sun halo, all swirled together and gently sent down to the earth)
How i feel about their canonical writing/handling
how... do i not spoil things. u have to have patience with his writing. i promise he is more than like.. manic pixie leftist cop boy. u just have to have patience. boy wears his heart on his sleeve. but also he has a bunch of plastic wrap around it. u can see his heart it is the textbook definition of on his sleeve. but it is obscured and u cannot reach it. every day before i sleep i get on my knees and pray that people have faith in his writing and don't think the way he's written is cringefail.
The one thing i’d want to make canon about them
i cant remember if this factoid has come up but i dont think it has in any posts. tsu's hair is like.... really choppy, if u brushed it out/took a straightener to it to get it all flat, you'd see its alll different lengths. bc he tends to get twigs and sticks and the like stuck in there and just. cuts hair off/"oh this bit is too long! *snip*" a lot. that being said it looks oddly intentional/u cant tell its a million different lengths with how he styles it. he will cry if anyone tries to drag him to a hair stylist.
My number one favorite ship for them
tsuhara. ch1 spoilers this is just text encoded in hex google hex to text decoder and u should be good. 74 68 69 73 20 69 73 20 77 68 79 20 69 20 77 61 6E 74 20 74 6F 20 72 65 77 72 69 74 65 20 74 68 65 20 63 68 31 20 69 6E 76 65 73 74 69 67 61 74 69 6F 6E 20 73 6F 20 62 61 64 6C 79 2E 20 69 20 77 61 6E 74 20 74 6F 20 68 61 6E 64 6C 65 20 74 68 65 69 72 20 69 6E 74 65 72 61 63 74 69 6F 6E 73 20 28 61 6C 6F 6E 67 20 77 69 74 68 20 74 73 75 73 20 69 6E 6E 65 72 20 6D 6F 6E 6F 6C 6F 67 75 65 29 20 61 20 6C 6F 74 20 64 69 66 66 65 72 65 6E 74 6C 79 21
…Now everyone else i ship with them
i mean he is besties with everyone? many platonic ships. he is friend shaped !
The thing i will NEVER ship
like many of the ask meme fills so far: his wrist is limp, your honor...
a dynamic/relationship i wish was explored more (in canon, or in fandom)
tsurugi is incapable of leaving anyone alone. he. nothing needs to be explored more. tsu & alone time perhaps.
thoughts on their design (appearance-wise)
im not even gonna lie trying to work out fits for him always makes me want to explode. i may rework his fit again soon ive already made minor changes which i havent mentioned. that in mind his bandages and bracelets and bruises are alllways gonna be the same! theyre eternal!
A music-related thought- a song that reminds me of them, or what their music taste is, etc
rule #4 - fish in a birdcage was playing when i started this post. the reason its on any of my playlists is bc i heard it and went fuck. uhhhh. yeah rule #4 fish in a birdcage would be very tsu and kouhei except jk!!! there is nothing slightly odd or abnodmal or not right with either of the people i mentioned theyre totally fine. mhm mhm!
anyways funnily enough he actually doesnt have a playlist. uhhh. actually he's got a lot of playlists with other characters but not his own... i started this w/a tsu + someone else song so ill only list individual ones from here on out akjdsjkkjdsdk
i thiiink all of sweet trip's "you will never know why" album (im bad with my memory and dont feel like going to look at it all) but especially your world is eternally complete + milk. hmmm. theres some others but this is good i think!
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jadie (may i call u that ?) i was wondering how u deal with hate on ur page. does it ever get rlly hard to the point where u think about quitting or something? ive been going through some hate of my own and although im still a small acct and the love outweighs the hate, its still super hurtful and i just wanna know how someone with a following as big as urs would handle it ! thanks so much
you can call me whatever you like!! how I deal with it..
I think it's important to acknowledge that I have a 'bigger' account or a bigger following because if you tallied up the hate to the kindness I'm shown, there's always going to be more love. And I feel like I can stick up for myself more often because I know I've made friends here and have followers that will support me!! So I would definitely say those things are a privilege that I have to help me
That being said, I've definitely noticed a tenfold increase in hate as I gain followers and i think thats natural, it makes sense that the more people that are exposed to me and my writing, the more I will see people who dont like me or my writing. Sometimes I handle it by crying my eyes out, and sometimes I just feel really sick all day. Lots of the time, hate pretty much saps me completely and I find that I don't want to write anymore because you do start to internalise that and feel negatively about yourself. It's always worse when they kind of find the thing you're sensitive about and prod at it.
And hate feels to me like it is in two categories, actual stuff with value and then the troll/bait kind of stuff. Most of the mean anons I receive I block straight away so they can't send anything again. Sometimes I post it because I want my own say, like when I don't agree with the way someone's speaking to me.
Sometimes you get silly cruel ones, and sometimes you see hate and think like??? What does this have to do with me? Fanfic and writing in general can be so skewed toward personal preference because why wouldn't I write what I want to write? This is my hobby and its for fun, and so when you get those "this was awkward' "this was poorly written" "why did insert character do this" I can disregard that pretty easily cos its a comment based on their own perception and preference. You don't have to explain yourself to anyone if you don't want to!
I recently saw someone get a hate anon that said like "you need to use more full stops, I need to take a breath" and it made me laugh because there are literally millions and millions of books and billions of words of fanfic online and that person has seemingly never encountered a run on sentence before? I think you just have to keep in mind that your circle of experience in life is different to other people's , and there will be overlap but often the majority won't, like a Venn diagram. What I'm trying to say is I tend to not take that stuff too personally (though it's still hate, and still annoying!) because that person probably just hasn't realised the world doesn't revolve around them yet!
Hate sucks! We aren't goodreads authors, we aren't offering our work up for a five star rating and asking people to pick it apart, and it's always gonna be gutting when people don't like what we have to offer. But I just try to take it on the chin because rejection is a constant in life, and if you don't wrestle with it I'd imagine I'll turn into a bitter bitch. 😅
tldr: I let myself be upset by it! I give myself space to feel sad but ultimately I reason that you can't please everyone, and you shouldn't want to! Do what makes you happy and the right people will find you and love you for it !!
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aphrodite worshipper confession/vent post: sometimes i feel guilty to her because im not very beautiful, havent really dated anyone, ive been so fearful and uncomfortable with romance for a lot of my life because i just was not at all emotionally available growing up, and im still struggling to try to be.
ive never really been called pretty. other than the women in my family complimenting me when i dress up for some formal event and i look uncharacteristically feminine, saying i look nice. or my friends have complimented specifically my eyeliner skills and my hair before since i always dyed it, but i genuinely cant remember anyone telling me just truthfully and unprompted that im pretty, that they find me pretty. if anything i hear that little things about me are cool, as if my appearance is interesting or something, but not attractive.
sometimes that really hurts, but then i feel guilty about it hurting my feelings, especially trying to worship aphrodite, i feel like i should know better than to care about external validation like that and i generally dont care about things like that but, am i so evil for wanting to be called pretty? i feel like everyone deserves that..
the only exceptions are two moments that always stick out to me. one time was an all-nighter playing truth-or-dare-esque games during a sleepover, and at one point we had to exchange compliments. and one of my friends in sleep-deprived delirium told me i had a nice face and i was so taken off guard because.. i just had never really heard that before. the other time is something i actually associate with aphrodite, i was in a really bad place mentally but i tried to force myself to at least wear something other than pajamas in public and one time i bumped into a stranger which happens a million times in my busy school campus but they said a quick 'you are so pretty' before we were past each other. i know random compliments to strangers like that arent that uncommon, especially college-aged queer people like us but it was genuinely something i had never experienced before and especially that day my brain was so foggy and i felt so gross and i just felt so taken off guard. i see my friends get random compliments like that all the time, but never me. that was also a time where i wasnt fully paying attention to aphrodite yet but considering her, and i feel like that moment was a little bit of her influence somehow and im so grateful for her and that stranger when i look back.
even then, i remember i told my best friends about it cuz it made me that happy. they said something like 'you are pretty! people should say it more!' trying to validate me but.. idk they say that but its not like they actually do it. if anything they make little jokes comparing me to people who like, they obviously think are ugly, becuase we share some traits like have the same hair or wear the same glasses or something trivial like that but the difference is they clearly, clearly find the other person weird-looking.. and i guess thats the joke? that i look like someone they think looks weird? and i dont understand why they feel comfortable jokingly implying that i look weird when they are also aware that they dont compliment me a lot.. i try to give them the benefit of the doubt that of course my friends dont think im ugly, but my god sometimes it really does feel like they think that. its not even like our friend group shys away from compliments like that, we love hyping each other up like that. people just dont really do it to me. or theyll comment on the parts of me that are more unconventional as if theyre trying to validate it for me but it just makes me feel weirder, especially if i wasnt even self-conscious of the thing before they tried to 'compliment' it.
is this whiny? am i vain? it feels vain to care so much but it also feels like the opposite of vain, i dont know. sometimes it really really eats away at me, and i feel like its deeper than just vanity. im not sure vanity is even all that much of a crime anyway.
sometimes now when i look decent or when i say some off-handed vaguely self-deprecating thing about myself one of my friends might be like 'omg stop youre fine trust me' as if like, i was fishing for compliments, or like i already knew i was pretty and was trying to be humble, except like, thats not at all what im doing. and it bugs me that they can both admit that i dont get called pretty enough and then dismiss me in moments like that.
i also think.. as queer as my friend group is i think femininity is equated with beauty to them, well to the world to be fair but still. and ive always been a bit genderless in my self-expression. and i feel like they find me ugly, like they see it as a shame that i dont present myself right or put in 'effort'. sometimes theyve had the chance to help me dress up or find clothes and theres this tone of trying to get me toward feminine clothes and being playfully upset with me for not picking them as if im being stubbornly choosing to be ugly.. but i find the things i choose pretty. they just dont. because they dont understand how non-feminine things can be pretty. maybe im being unfair in accusing them of that but thats just how it feels to me sometimes.
i know theres people who have the same concept of beauty as me out there but im realizing that i dont really know any of them myself. i dont even disagree with what my friends find pretty, i find everything beautiful tbh. im just sick of.. i feel like they assume i dont have beauty in my life, that i dont see beauty, or dont care about it, or dont want to have it in myself, but thats the opposite of the truth. i just wish people would find the beauty in me the way i find the beauty in everything but instead i feel like they see me and see no beauty and then write me off entirely.
in high school senior year i shaved my head. i was already used to not being pursued by people at that point, to not being someone people perceived as romantic or pretty. but i didnt expect how much more it hurt after that, i thought id be used to the feeling but i genuinely felt absolutely invisible to every single man more than i already did, as if the moment i dont seem like a potential lover i am useless, not deserving even basic acknowledgement or respect. and even with girls i felt like i was being excluded or assumed to not be interested in the things they did, as if they thought i was denouncing the gender or something.
i know they were all just humans and kids too and they couldnt have known how i was feeling if i wasnt saying it but i cant help but be a little bit bitter and resentful, as much as i hate feeling it. but how could you just leave someone out, how could you assume a young girl didnt care about being complimented, how could you assume there was nothing more to me just because you didnt find me attractive.
if i had to find a silver lining though, im glad i at least didnt attract the people that have those fucked up prejudices or views on beauty so i guess i saved myself, im glad it was sort of self-respecting of me. but i was also just a kid, and i needed to be loved, and sometimes i wonder if it would have been better if i traded the self-respect just for a little love or attention. i know its so fucked up, i have so many friends that say now that they wish they were a bit more like me growing up so they couldve avoided really shitty exes and i believe them, i kinda wish they did too. but i dont have the heart to tell them that im jealous of them actually. that even if their hearts got broken they at least got to love. even if it was fake or short-lived or painful. at least they got it. they got to emerge from it and learn things about themselves. and this is so fucked up but when i see them finally healing from toxic loves and ideas of love, im so happy for them but a little part of me is devastated and says look, they also learned the lessons you did, they also developed the self-respect you did, but they also got to live and love. while you were a coward. while you were ugly.
i always worry that this level of honesty will disappoint aphrodite, that shell be upset to hear me talk so bad about myself or talk so desperately about love. but i hope that the honesty is at least appreciated. i know so much of it is wrong, but i admit it, and i want to feel better and think better, im open to changing. im really trying. i hope that effort is worth something at least.
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Pantyhose tumblr
#Pantyhose tumblr free
Now I noticed that the perfect high cut has to cinch in at or very near the waist to truly do the job. It's not a flattering look and I absolutely despise it. It elongates and squares out the torso, narrows out the hips, shrinks the butt and shortens the legs. To further that point, the mid hip swimsuit/underware/teddie is the worst offender in terms of being a detriment to a woman's figure. At the same time if you put that same woman in a regular mid hip swimsuit or regular bikini, all those attributes wouldn't be accentuated and she wouldn't look quite as attractive. They give the appearance of a smaller waist, bigger hips, a bigger butt and longer legs. That's because high cuts accentuate the female figure. That the one in the high cut oozes more sexuality. Men and women don't realize this, but all things being equal in appearance within a group of women, we will undoubtedly think that the one in the high cut is the most attractive. I don't care about race, ethnicity or body type - if there is any sign of a high cut being worn I'm posting it.
#Pantyhose tumblr free
They spend all their free time on reddit or twitter telling their followers how evil men are and how they are all rapists and misogynists, yet they join Tinder (of all places…) and try to meet men.I love women in high cut: thongs, leotards, bodysuits, bikinis, swimsuits, teddies, panties, tan lines, etc. Their first mistake was trying to date men who they claim to hate, their second mistake was joining tinder. Tinder is a meat market, and they are looking for a respectable man on that app… lol… Yea sure there are some, but most on Tinder are not. I just don’t understand these women at all. What they do and what they say are complete opposite and hypocritical. Discover more posts about sheer pantyhose, open toe heels, nylon pantyhose, pantyhose and heels, evening fashion, collant, and tan pantyhose. Why do feminazi’s date men if they hate men?Īnd how are you going to develop a relationship that’s healthy that’s entire premise is based off of how much you hate men, men will easily pick up on your negativity and toxicity towards the entire gender of men and leave. See a recent post on Tumblr from sheersuntanhunter about tan pantyhose. Ive been depressed for a while so that takes effect on everything else in my life. My bf isnt that great he puts me down and tries to ruin my self esteem. not only that but he talked about me to her and made her feel like she is better and like he wants to be with her. He cheated with someone he dealt with in the past. I said neither are true I’m just not ready. I was devastated, but she acted like it didnt matter. I realize now as an adult that she didn’t get what she wanted so she left. I wanted it at the time but I was still a child. I look back on it now and get grossed out, like I would kill someone who did any of this to my kids. This online friend of mine did a psychic reading on me. Go on to discover millions of awesome videos and pictures in thousands of other categories. He is a nice guy and I want to keep being friends but feel weird now.Īnd it kind of was like we delved into a lot of deep stuff I wasn’t expecting him to know, followed by ‘what did you get for lunch. View 262 pictures and enjoy PantyhoseInPublic with the endless random gallery on. Is there a principle on display? Is there a matter of wisdom to be considered? Is there an idea I had never considered or truly taken to heart before? Difficult verses that pretty much always have a corresponding verse that says the same thing in a simpler way. I wanted more attention from people, due to lack of many friends, and I resorted to being annoying.ĭo couples that keep their relationship private on Facebook love eachother more?Īnd not private as in no word of the other, but only a few posts a year about it? I would get hyper spontaneously, when I was normally calm and introverted. Which in turn would make people around me uneasy. Or I would fake laugh for a long period of time until people looked at me weird, which made me laugh for real, and continue a cycle of laughing at their confused reactions. Discover more posts about legs in pantyhose, gusset, tan pantyhose, nylon pantyhose, sheer pantyhose, pantyhoselegs, and collant. This would cause them to jump once they saw I was here.īecause I was really quiet most of the time, I would also sneak up on my classmates and wait for them to notice me. See a recent post on Tumblr from pantyhsblog about collant. The worst thing I think I did, was learn about a classmate’s (Katherine) crush, and drop hints to Zach (her crush) that she likes him, right in front of her.Īnd I found it funny to scare people like that. Romana:And I recently got together with this girl.(31 December 2017)Ĭharline:Is there a possibility i can be pregnant?(31 We video chat every night for at least five hours.(31 December 2017) It’s been a while since I posted so I figured I would let you all know I am still around and having fun_
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Yknow what? I'd actually go so far as to say that, as much as ive seen it complained about, it's actually pretty hard to "UwU" or "Woobify" Grian within the context of yhs.
I mean. It's possible if you go really extreme with it, but it's hard.
Grian at his core is actually a primarily decent person most of the timeand is a primarily innocent party in most things. One who goes through a Lot.
If you really think about it Grian's moral compass isn't too far off normal basic human morality. He's often anxious and hesitant when faced with any involvement in criminal activity, he's frequently dismayed and offput by suggestions of violence (the less deserved the more dismay is expressed as well), he's disappointed and frustrated at seeing the people around him do fucked up things, he's almost always polite with a good head on his shoulders when faced with a kind or reasonable person. Even well into ts, long after first coming back to Japan, Grian is still incredibly uneasy and fidgety with the suggestion that he take part in violence, I mean, remember that time he, Taurtis, and Sam were tasked with killing Geode and Grian not only initially tried to refuse outright but then checked in shakily with the other two multiple times just to confirm if they were really going to kill someone. Grian's typically the character most likely in the entire series to be incredibly put off by and very hesitant about doing bad things (especially to people he's not one million percent certain deserve it).
And while one could argue that we can't really praise his moral compass for being hesitant about involving himself in crime/wrongdoing when he often ends up participating anyways. Actions speak louder than words and all. However I disagree. The fact that Grian vocally does not wish to be involved in this kind of thing and has proven to behave on the more reasonable and polite side when acting independently in relation to likewise level headed people....is Very important. In fact, in actual legal cases, oftentimes a factor in trying individuals is the question of whether they would commit the crime in question indepently or under normal circumstances. This is the basis for necessity, duress, and insanity pleas, amoung other's. People who would not act the way they did in a certain scenario under normal circumstances are often liable to be judged favourably in their actions. In fact, speaking of duress pleas, Grian's got a pretty solid one for a lot of his actions. The times Sam or Yuki held a knife to his throat or the times police threatened to kill him if he doesn't comply with orders or any alike incidents. In cases where duress isn't applicable to Grian's behaviour there are oftentimes incidents in which an outright case for violence in self defense can be made. In fact, most of Grian's circumstances leave him very viable to be judged sympathetically on a legal standpoint. The fact that he was a minor, the fact that he had no apparent history of violence or crime, the fact that he was in a severely abusive relationship with a criminal and entering said relationship marked the start of any sort of criminal behaviour from Grian, any criminal behaviour from Grian always being in a group setting never lead by himself, the fact that he always clearly and openly protests when pulled into these group settings, the duress and self defense pleas that are applicable to pretty much all incidents in which he does engage. Which are also all factors that can and should be accounted for on. a moral basis as well, obviously. And like, Grian has a reputation for being arrogant, cynical, and rude or whatever, but he's really not. He very rightfully calls out other people's horrible bullshit and makes snappy remarks towards his abuser but that's the opposite of a problem and Grian's proven himself more than capable of reasonable civility towards reasonable people. Grian just isn't the selfish arrogant disrespectful criminal that he's sometimes implied to be and in fact he's largely innocent- or absolvable, if you'd rather- in most of the things levied against him. Grian's not a literal saint giving to the needy and taking care of orphans in his spare time but he's a decent guy overall???
And hey, speaking of that super abusive relationship Grian landed in. Let's not forget the impact of that situation. Sam was undoubtedly abusive towards Grian. He threatened Grian's life various times, he basically told Grian he was nothing compared to Taurtis, he shoved plastic down Grian's throat and laughed when he choked, he got Grian locked up in solitary confinement through complete lies just because he thought it'd be entertaining I guess, he forced Grian to kiss an abnormally large amount of people against his will (some of these instances sam recorded despite being asked not to), he himself tried to make out with Grian without consent while Grian was sleeping in his own private room, he forcefully dressed Grian up in feminine cosplay meant to be ~attractive~ complete with fake breasts, he lied to Grian about the gender identity of someone Grian dated as a joke (his words) and lightly mocked Grian afterwards, he locked Grian in a basement for three days straight and it's unclear whether or not he was planning to let him out anytime soon, he dragged Grian into a closet with school staff despite Grian's very vocal distress and discomfort then scolded Grian for considering reported it when this staff member made uncomfortable comments on the outfit Sam had forced Grian into, Sam offered to give Grian to another guy who made a similar uncomfortable comment later on as part of some trade, he consistently dragged Grian against his will into criminal activity whether by threatening him, tricking him into participating, or just altogether falsely implicatng him, amoung Many other things. And every step of the way Sam did his best to completely gaslight Grian. He used every gaslighting technique in the book. Telling blatant lies (for example, "i would never stab taurtis", "you are taurtis", "grian's crazy and he stabbed taurtis"), he denies doing shit to Grian that Grian knows damn well he did ("i would never stab taurtis"). He hard projected his bs onto Grian (from blaming grian for 'making' sam do awful shit sam did to claiming grian actually fullstop did the awful shit sam did). He was just constantly trying to turn people against Grian (convincing yuki and taurtis to back him up in calling grian a bad manipulative friend and insisting he needed to apologize for 'making' sam horrifically abuse him. arriving in the police station and instantly without hesitation telling them grian was crazy and dangerous and pinning his own crimes on grian. having taurtis back him up and help scold grian for getting mad about being locked in the basement for days). Telling Grian he's crazy (taurtis incident again, solitary confinement incident, the time sam kissed grian without his consent while he slept and grian got mad). Telling everyone else that Grian's a manipulative liar (taurtis incident again, solitary confinement incident again). Yknow. Gaslighting. Sam was just so unbelievably abusive. In like. Every possible way. Which adds a LOT of trauma to Grian. That on top of his parents abandoning him as a little kid too because we couldn't leave it at severe abuse.
Grian's not a bad person. And he's certainly a very sympathetic person. Which is why it would be hard to woobify yhs Grian. It would be hard to make a very sympathetic very sad character egregiously sympathetic and sad. His whole arc is getting abandoned by his parents, going to visit his friends, and getting violently abused and forced into a multitude of disturbing activities against his will for an extended period of time.
One could argue that sure Grian isn't a bad person and sure Grian's got a pretty sad life, but certainly a lot of people are guilty of making Grian more helpless and scared and generally 'pathetic' than he is in canon.
To which I reply...not really?
Grian already doesn't have half the fight response people ascribe to him throughout the series. That was a whole other post but honestly Grian's response to traumatic situations is very frequently to cave to them and he's got a much stronger submissive streak than people often admit. I mean, Grian was asked to dress up as his best friend who just got stabbed "to make things less awkward and make me feel better" and he did it within ten seconds of being asked without the others even needing to threaten him at all. Grian does express quite a bit of despair, fear, and submissive tendency in canon when faced with dangerous or traumatic situations. And while it's possible to go a bit too far with that if you consistently leave out the token fight entirely, I see people swing way too far un the opposite direction way too often. There's a reason Grian never actually killed Sam in canon. There's a reason Grian never made a serious attempt to get him arrested for his crimes. There's a reason Grian never just left. When Sam found Grian after he ran out of the gym during the Taurtis incident? Grian didn't lunge for Sam. There was no serious altercation between the two. Grian scrambled back and tearfully babbled platitudes while shoving plastic down his own throat on command. And even beyond that, a lot of the interpretations accused of making Grian too helpless/scared/'pathetic' are works that involve Grian processing trauma years after the fact. Which. Even if Grian was the most aggressive on edge fighter in the history of trauma responses during the traumatic events? People don't process their trauma after the fact the same way they instinctively respond in the moment. Even if Grian never shed a tear throughout any of the traumatic ordeals he experienced, it would be far from unrealistic behaviour for him to still process after the fact by panicking and sobbing his eyes out regularly. Which, again, Grian wasn't even all that fight oriented while it was happening so panic and tears isn't even super far removed from his actual in the moment responses let alone processing after-responses. It's just. It's really hard to "UwU" Grian tbh. He's a decent person, he went through hell (his own words actually), and he was never even really very effectively aggressive when he did. And while it's possible to dip too far into that territory, far more often I see things swung egregiously far in the other direction.
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