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demigod-of-the-agni · 1 month

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Spider-Man India, but... where from India?

A SUPER long post featuring talks of: cultural identity, characterisation, the caste system, and what makes Spider-Man Spider-Man.

I’m prefacing this by saying that I am a second-generation immigrant. I was born in Australia, but my cultural background is from South India. My experiences with what it means to be “Indian” is going to be very different from the experiences of those who are born and brought up in India.

If you, reader, want to add anything, please reblog and add your thoughts. This is meant to be a post open for discussion — the more interaction we get, the better we become aware of these nuances.

So I made this poll asking folks to pick a region of India where I would draw Pavitr Prabhakar in their cultural wear. This idea had been on my mind for a long while now, as I had been inspired by Annie Hazarika’s Northeastern Spidey artwork in the wake of ATSV’s release, but never got the time to actually do it until now. I wanted to get a little interactive and made the poll so I could have people choose which of the different regions — North, Northeast, Central, East, West, South — to do first.

The outcome was not what I expected. As you can see, out of 83 votes:

THE RESULTS

South India takes up almost half of all votes (44.6%), followed by Northeast and Central (both 14.5%) and then East (13.3%). In all my life growing up, support towards or even just the awareness of South India was pretty low. Despite this being a very contained poll, why would nearly half of all voters pick South India in favour of other popular choices like Central or North India?

Then I thought about the layout of the poll: Title, Options, Context.

Title: "Tell us who you want to see…"

Options: North, Northeast, Central, East, West, South

Context: I want to make art of the boy again

At first I thought: ah geez. this is my fault. I didn't make the poll clear enough. do they think I want them to figure out where Pavitr came from? That's not what I wanted, maybe I should have added the context before the options.

Then I thought: ah geez. is it my fault for people not reading the entire damn thing before clicking a button? That's pretty stupid.

But regardless, the thought did prompt a line of thinking I know many of us desi folk have been considering since Spider-Man India was first conceived — or, at least, since the announcement that he was going to appear in ATSV. Hell, even I thought of it:

Where did Spider-Man India come from?

FROM A CULTURALLY DIVERSE INDIA

As we know, India is so culturally diverse, and no doubt ATSV creators had to take that into account. Because the ORIGINAL Spider-Man India came from Mumbai — most likely because Mumbai and Manhattan both started with the same letter.

But going beyond that, it’s also because Mumbai is one of the most recognisable cities in India - it’s also known as Bombay. It’s where Bollywood films are shot. It’s where superstar Hindi actors and actresses show up. Mumbai is synonymous with India in that regard, because the easiest way Western countries can interact with Indian culture is through BOLLYWOOD, through HINDI FILMS, through MUMBAI. Suddenly, India is Mumbai, India is a Hindi-only country, India is just this isolated thing we see through an infinitely narrow lens.

We’ve gotten a little better in recent years, but boy I will tell you how uncomfortable I’ve gotten when people (yes, even desi people) come up to me and tell me, Oh, you’re Indian right? Can you speak Hindi? Why don’t you speak Hindi? You’re not Indian if you don’t speak Hindi, that’s India’s national language!

I have been — still am — so afraid of telling people that I don’t speak Hindi, that I’m Tamil, that I don’t care that Hindi is India’s “national” language (it’s an administrative language, Kavin, get your fucking facts right). It’s weird, it’s isolating, and it has made me feel like I wasn’t “Indian” enough to be accepted into the group of “Indian” people.

So I am thankful that ATSV went out of their way to integrate as much variety of Indian culture into the Mumbattan sequence. Maybe that way, the younger generation of desi folk won’t feel so isolated, and that younger Western people will be more open to learning about all these cultural differences within such a vast country.

BUT WHAT DOES THIS HAVE TO DO WITH SPIDER-MAN INDIA?

Everything, actually. There’s a thing called supremacy. You might have heard of it. We all engaged with it at some point, and if you are Indian, no matter where you live, it is inescapable.

It happens the moment you are born — who your family is, where you are born, the language you speak, the colour of your skin; these will be bound to you for life, and it is nigh impossible to break down the stereotypes associated with them.

Certain ethnic groups will be more favourable than others (Centrals, and thus their cultures, will always be favoured over than Souths, as an example) and the same can be said for social groups (Brahmins are more likely to secure influential roles in politics or other areas like priesthood, while the lowers castes, especially Dalits, aren’t even given the decency of respect). Don’t even get me started on colourism, where obviously those of fairer skin will win the lottery while those of darker skin aren’t given the time of day. It’s even worse when morality ties into it — “lighter skinned Indians, like Brahmins, embody good qualities like justice and wisdom”, “dark skinned Indians are cunning and poor, they are untrustworthy”. It’s fucking nuts.

This means, of course, you have a billion people trying to make themselves heard in a system that tries to crush everyone who is not privileged. It only makes sense that people want to elevate themselves and break free from a society that refuses to acknowledge them. These frustrations manifest outwardly, like in protests, but other times — most times — it goes unheard, quietly shaping your way of life, your way of thinking. It becomes a fundamental part of you, and it can go unacknowledged for generations.

So when you have a character like Pavitr Prabhakar enter the scene, people immediately latch onto him and start asking questions many Western audiences don’t even consider. Who is he? What food does he eat? What does he do on Fridays? What’s his family like, his community? All these questions pop up, because, amidst all this turmoil going on in the background, you want a mainstream popular character to be like you, who knows your way of life so intimately, that he may as well be a part of your community.

BUT THAT'S THE THING — HE'S FICTIONAL

I am guilty of this. In fact, I’ve flaunted in numerous posts how I think he’s the perfect Tamil boy, how he dances bharatanatyam, how he does all these Tamil things that no one will understand except myself. All these niche things that only I, and maybe a few others, will understand.

I’ve seen other people do it, too. I’ve seen people geek out over his dark brown skin, his kalari dhoti, how he fights so effortlessly in the kalaripayattu martial arts style. I’ve seen people write him as Malayali, as Hindi, as every kind of Indian person imaginable.

I’ve also seen him be written where he’s subjected to typical Indian and broader Asian stereotypes. You know the ones I’m so fond of calling out. The thing is, I’ve seen so much of Pavitr being presented in so many different ways, and I worry how the rest of the desi folk will take it.

You finally have a character who could be you, but now he’s someone else’s plaything. Your entire life is shaped by what you can and can’t do simply because you were born to an Indian family, and here’s the one person who could represent you now at the mercy of someone else’s whims. He’s off living a life that is so distant from yours, you can hardly recognise him.

It shouldn’t hurt as much as it does, yeah? But, again, you’re looking at it from that infinitely narrow lens Westerners use to look at India from Bollywood.

AND PAVITR PRABHAKAR DOESN'T LIVE IN INDIA

He lives in Mumbattan. He lives in a made-up, fictional world that doesn’t follow the way of life of our world. He lives in a city where Mumbai and Manhattan got fucking squashed together. There are so many memes about colonialism right there. Mumbattan isn’t real! Spider-Man India isn’t real!! He’s just a dude!! The logic of our world doesn’t apply to him!!!

“But his surname originates from ______” okay but does that matter?

“But he’s wearing a kalari dhoti so surely he’s ______” okay but does that matter?

“But his skin colour is darker so he must be ______” okay but does that matter?

“But he lives in Mumbai so he must be ______” okay but does that matter?

I sound insensitive and brash and annoying and it looks like I’m yapping just for the sake of riling you up, so direct that little burst of anger you got there at me, and keep reading.

Listen. I’m going to ask you a question that I’ve asked myself a million times over. I want you to answer honestly. I want you to ask this question to yourself and answer honestly:

Are you trying to convince me on who Pavitr Prabhakar should be?

... but why shouldn't i?

I’ll tell you this again — I did the same thing. You’re not at fault for this, but I want you to just...have a little think over. Just a little moment of self-reflection, to think about why you are so intent on boxing this guy.

It took me a while to reorganise my thinking and how to best approach a character like Pavitr, so I will give you all the time you need as well as a little springboard to focus your thoughts on.

SPIDER-MAN (INDIA) IS JUST A MASK

“What I like about the costume is that anybody reading Spider-Man in any part of the world can imagine that they themselves are under the costume. And that’s a good thing.”

Stan Lee said that. Remember how he was so intent on making sure that everybody got the idea that Spider-Man as an entity is fundamentally broken without Peter Parker there to put on the suit and save the day? That ultimately it was the person beneath the mask, no matter who they were, that mattered most?

Spider-Man India is no less different. You can argue with me that Peter Parker!Spidey is supposed to represent working class struggles in the face of leering corporate entities who endanger the regular folk like us, and so Pavitr Prabhakar should also function the same way. Pavitr should also be a working class guy of this specific social standing fighting people of this other social standing.

But that takes away the authenticity of Spider-Man India. Looking at him through the Peter Parker lens forces you to look at him through the Western lens, and it significantly lessens what you can do with the character — suddenly, it’s a fight to be heard, to be seen, to be recognised. It’s yelling over each other that Pavitr Prabhakar is this ethnicity, is that caste, this or that, this or that, this or that.

There’s a reason why he’s called Spider-Man India, infuriatingly vague as it is. And that’s the point — the vagueness of his identity fulfils Lee’s purpose for a character that could theoretically be embodied by anyone. If he had been called “Spider-Man Mumbai”, you cut out a majority of the population (and in capitalist terms, you cut out a good chunk of the market).

And in the case of Spider-Man India? Whew — you’ve got about a billion people imagining a billion different versions of him.

Whoever you are, whatever you see in Pavitr, that is what is personal to you, and there is nothing wrong with that, and I will not fault you for it. I will not fault you for saying Pavitr is from Central due to the origins of his last name. I also will not fault you for saying Pavitr is from South due to him practising kalaripayattu. I also will not fault you for saying he is not Hindu. I also will not fault you for saying he is a particular ethnicity without any proof.

What I will fault you for is trying to convince me and the others around you that Pavitr Prabhakar should be this particular ethnicity/have this cultural background because of some specific reason. I literally don’t care and it is fundamentally going against his character, going against the “anyone can wear the mask” sentiment of Spider-Man. By doing this, you are strengthening the walls that first divided us. You’re feeding the stratification and segmentation of our cultures — something that is actually not present in the fictional world of Mumbattan.

Like I said before: Mumbattan isn’t real, so the divides between ethnicities and cultural backgrounds are practically nonexistent. The best thing is that it is visually there for all to see. My favourite piece of evidence is this:

It’s a marquee for a cinema in the Mumbattan sequence, in the “Quick tour: this is where the traffic is” section. It has four titles; the first three are written in Hindi. The fourth title is written in Tamil. You go to Mumbai and you won’t see a single shred of Tamil there, much less any other South Indian language. Seeing this for the first time, you know what went through my head?

Wow, the numerous cultures of India are so intermingled here in Mumbattan! Everyone and everything is welcome!

I was happy, not just because of Tamil representation, but because of the fact that the plethora of Indian cultures are showcased coexisting in such a short sequence. This is India embracing all the little parts that make up its grander identity. This scene literally opened my eyes seeing such beauty in all the diverse cultures thriving together. In a place where language and cultural backgrounds blend so easily, each one complementing one another.

It is so easy to believe that, from this colourful palette of a setting, Pavitr Prabhakar truly is Spider-Man India, no matter where he comes from.

It’s easy to believe that Pavitr can come from any part of India, and I won’t call you out if the origin you have for him is different from the origin I have. You don’t need to stake out territory and stand your ground — you’re entitled to that opinion, and I respect it. In fact, I encourage it!!!

Because there’s only so much you can show in a ten minute segment of a film about a country that has such a vast history and even greater number of cultures. I want to see all of it — I want him to be a Malayali boy, a Hindi boy, a Bengali boy, a Telugu boy, an Urdu boy, whatever!! I want you to write him or draw him immersed in your culture, so that I can see the beauty of your background, the wonderful little things that make your culture unique and different from mine!

And, as many friends have said, it’s so common for Indian folks to be migrating around within our own country. A person with a Maharashtrian surname might end up living in Punjab, and no one really minds that. I’m actually from Karnataka, my family speaks Kannada, but somewhere down the line my ancestors moved to Tamil Nadu and settled down and lived very fulfilling lives. So I don’t actually have the “pure Tamil” upbringing, contrary to popular belief; I’ve gotten a mix of both Kannada and Tamil lifestyles, and it’s made my life that much richer.

So it’s common for people to “not” look like their surname, if that’s what you’re really afraid about. In fact, it just adds to that layer of nuance, that even despite these rigid identities between ethnicities we as Indian people still intermingle with one another, bringing slivers of our cultures to share with others. Pavitr could just as well have been born in one state and moved around the country, and he happens to live in Mumbattan now. It’s entirely possible and there’s nothing to disprove that.

We don’t need to clamber over one another declaring that only one ethnicity is the “right” ethnicity, because, again, you will be looking at Pavitr and the rest of India in that narrow Western lens — a country with such rich cultural variety reduced to a homogenous restrictive way of life.

THE POLL: REINTERPRETED

This whole thing started because I was wondering why my little poll was so skewed — I thought people assumed I was asking them where he came from, then paired his physical appearance with the most logical options available. I thought it was my fault, that I had somehow influenced this outcome without knowing.

Truth is, I will never really know. But I will be thankful for it, because it gave me the opportunity to finally broach this topic, something that many of us desi folk are hesitant to talk about. I hope you have learned something from this, whether you are desi or a casual Spider-Man fan or someone who just so happened to stumble upon this.

So just…be a little more open. Recognise that India, like many many countries and nations, is made up of a plethora of smaller cultures. And remember, if you’re trying to convince Pavitr that he’s a particular ethnicity, he’s going to wave his hand at you and say, “Ha, me? No, I’m one of the people that live here in the best Indian city! I’m Spider-Man India, dost!”

(Regardless, he still considers you a friend, because to him, the people matter more to him than you trying to box him into something he’s not.)

#long post + more tags that kinda spiral away BUT expand on the points above AND kinda puts everything together concisely #BROS THIS IS AN HONEST TO GOD ESSAY #THAT HAS BEEN COOKING IN MY HEART FOR A WHILE NOW. SIMMERING FOR MONTHS BEFORE FINALLY BOILING OVER IN THE LAST WEEK #genuinely hope you read MOST of it because yes it has Quite A Lot Of Exposition but it all matters nonetheless #put in a lot of thought into this so i expect you to do your part and challenge your thoughts as well #you see how i'm not asking for you to listen to me. but to actually Think. i want you to cook your thoughts and add some spice and flavour #and give it a good mix so you can come out of this a little more wiser than before #because!!! yeah!!!! spider man india is just that!! he's indian!!!!! we don't need to collectively agree on where he comes from #bc it gets rid of that relatability factor of spider man. at the most basic level #think of it as a schrodinger's. he is every single culture and none of them at the same time. therefore none of us are wrong!! sick!!!!#pavitr's first priority is making sure HIS PEOPLE are safe. that's probably as far as we can go that relates him back to peter parker spide #he loves his people and working in the name of justice to FIGHT for HIS PEOPLE is just the duty/responsibility he takes up #it makes sense that he loves everyone and every culture he engages with bc that's the nature of spider man i suppose #if peter parker spidey acts as the guardian for the regular folk.. then in my mind pavitr spidey stands as the bridge uniting the people #because society as its core is very fragmented. and having pavitr act as a connection to other folks.... mmmmm beautiful #that's what i'm talking abouttttt !!!#anyways guys this is literally 3001 words on my document EXCLUDING THE TITLE. THAT'S 7 PAGES AT 11pt FONT. i'm literally cryingggg wtf #pavitr prabhakar #spider man #spider man india #desi #desiblr #atsv #across the spiderverse #atsv pavitr #indian culture #india #desi tumblr #what the fuck do i tag this as #agnirambles

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angelltheninth · 4 months

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Yoooooo i saw this tiktok about this chocolate that you split with your partner and its supposed to sexually enhance you and your partner’s experience, imagine taking that with Mizu 👀 I feel like she already has a high stamina so I’m like this will take her to crazy levels of horniness and cravings for yooouu 😭😭😭😭

Doesn't chocolate already have aphrodisiac properties? I don't know which TikTok you saw but either way it sounds intersting.

Pairing: Mizu x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, kissing, aphrodisiac use, high stamina, fingering, clit stimulation, teasing, sharing sweets

A/N: I hear chocolate can spice things up a lot. But the love of god the only hole it should go into is your mouth.

Given how her life has been she hasn't had the opportunity to taste many sweet things

When presented with chocolate of course she wants to try it but she has no idea it can be used to enhance sex

You only learned of this recently yourself, and well, your sex life with Mizu is far from boring but couldn't hurt to try new things

The first bite does nothing for her, but you are feeling a little bit hornier

Or maybe that horniness is to do with the fact that Mizu has been slowly sliding two fingers into you this whole time

"Give me another bite." She smiles at you, licking the remains of the chocolate off your fingers. At this rate she'll eat the entire thing before she feels anything. "You know what I think? I think your own sweetness cancels out the sweetness of the chocolate."

You reach for another piece and press it to her lips. She lets it smudge a little before she opens up to take it. Again she takes the opportunity to suck on your fingers, this time moving the fingers inside your pussy as she does.

A little whine falls from your lips, "Mizu, what you're describing is literally impossible."

Mizu lifted an eyebrow at you. You regretted the words almost immediately because you found yourself pushed off her and her fingers leaving your pussy no matter how hard it clenched around her. "Let's test that." She quipped before sucking on her fingers, making deliberate loud slurping sounds that had your ears burning. "I was right. But I think the chocolate is working. Perhaps one more bite."

This time she reached for it, placed a piece in her mouth and leaned over to you, indicating she wanted to share it

You got to taste yourself and the chocolate, sweet not too sweet anymore

Her hand moved back to your pussy, fingers gathering the moisture there and coating her entire hand when she cups your pussy

Mizu kept kissing you while she moved to guide your hand between her legs, letting you feel how wet she's gotten for you

"All because of you my love. This is all you." She coos against your mouth, going for another peace of the chocolate to share between you two.

Mizu lets out a shaky breath when you press the heel of your hand against her clit, focusing on it a lot more then you are on thrusting your fingers in and out. She's certainly a lot more sensitive now. Good to know that she is just as effected as you after all. "I'm flattered. Let's make each other feel good hm? I want you to fuck me out of my mind."

A third finger joined in quickly after your request, stretching you further. Mizu didn't know which was more addictive, your mouth, your pussy or the chocolate you brought. She liked all three and by the end of the night she was determined to find out which one had the top spot.

It was your pussy.

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candycandy00 · 3 days

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This is my first time really interacting on here, but I really love you work so I just had to request something.💜💜

Character: Nanami

AU Setting: Masquerade ball

Spice Level: NSFW

Mood: Your choice

Kinks: Degradation and size difference

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. Non Curse AU. Degradation. Dirty talk. Size difference.

Part of CandyCandy’s 2k Followers Event! Any feedback at all is adored! Dividers by @benkeibear.

The stranger at the open bar is looking at you again. He’s totally your type, with his slicked back blonde hair and impeccably tailored black suit. He’s tall, muscular but not too bulky, and he stands there holding a drink in his large hand as his eyes slide over to you again. He’s wearing a black silk mask that covers the top half of his face, the sort most of the men are wearing at this swanky masquerade ball for bored rich assholes.

You’re just here for the free drinks and food. Your uncle’s tech start up recently hit it big, so he got an invite to this party two weeks ago. “New Money”, they probably called him. But of course his perpetually single ass didn’t have a date, so he invited you to be his plus one. He even bought you a fancy cocktail dress, in shimmery fuchsia with a low neckline and high split up to the hip. You topped it off with a matching lace mask.

When the two of you walked in, your uncle patted your back and jokingly told you to “go nab yourself a rich guy”. You smiled and grabbed a glass of champagne from a tray being carried by a server.

That was over an hour ago, and you’ve barely seen your uncle since then. You spotted him a couple of times, chatting with other tech business bigwigs, but otherwise you’ve been on your own. You don’t mind. The food is fabulous and the drinks are plentiful.

Then there’s the handsome stranger who keeps looking your way. You can see his eyes through the holes in his mask, can watch them travel up and down your body as you move across the room. There’s a dance floor where some of the early 20’s folks are dancing, so you head over and put on a little show. You may not be used to fancy places like this, but you go to clubs with your friends every weekend, so you know how to shake your ass to some music.

It worked. The stranger’s full attention is on you, his eyes practically glued to your every move. You wish he would just come over and dance with you, but you suppose he’s too mature for that. He gives off a totally different vibe from the young guys who hang around you at the club.

Feeling emboldened by his hungry gaze, you work your way over to the bar and stand a few feet away from him, tantalizingly close yet just out of reach. You fan yourself as if you’re hot after dancing, hoping your perfume drifts over to him.

Within seconds, he moves closer to you, leaning back against the bar casually as he asks, “Who did you come with?”

Are you that obviously out of place? You smile at him. “Who says someone didn’t come with me?” you say teasingly, sipping your fruity drink.

“Just a hunch,” he replies, glancing at you sideways.

You point to your uncle across the room. He’s laughing a little too loudly, being just a tad too clingy to the bear-like man standing next to him. You hope they’re hitting it off. “My uncle didn’t have a date, so I tagged along.”

The stranger smiles faintly. Was that his way of finding out if you’re single? His eyes roam blatantly up and down you again. You hope he’s enjoying the closer look. You certainly are. He’s tall enough to tower over you, and his warm, honey-colored eyes draw you in. He’s the kind of man you want on top of you at the nearest opportunity.

“Are you enjoying the party?” he asks, moving even closer to you. He smells expensive.

“The drinks and the food? Yeah. Not sure about the people yet,” you say with a grin.

“Oh? This isn’t your usual crowd?”

You turn your whole body to face him. “Not really. I don’t usually hang around snobby rich jerks. But maybe a few of them are alright.” You say the last part playfully, looking him up and down the way he did you.

His eyes flick down to your chest, as if tracing the dipping neckline, then return to your face. “Perhaps we could talk in one of the private rooms, and you can find out if I’m ‘alright’.”

You feel your heartbeat getting faster as your excitement builds, but you maintain your breezy attitude. “Private rooms? Are we allowed to go in those? The owner of this house might not like that.”

The person throwing this lavish party is also the owner of this ridiculously huge mansion. Your uncle mentioned their name but it didn’t seem important at the time.

The stranger smiles again. “I’m sure he won’t mind.”

He holds out his hand, and you take it, trying to keep your breathing steady as he escorts you through the room. He keeps pace with you, probably walking more slowly than he’d prefer, and moves in such a way that it seems like he’s clearing the path for you. Such a gentleman! You really hope he’ll be fucking you like a whore soon.

As the two of you step into a hallway, you notice the marble floors and the walls lined with paintings. “Look at this,” you say. “Who actually needs all this? It’s obnoxious.”

The stranger chuckles. “You really think so?”

You stop to look at a Chinese vase. It probably cost more than your apartment and your car combined. “All this stuff is beautiful, but I heard the owner lives here alone. He has to get lonely in this giant house, right?”

The stranger regards you for a moment, then says, “He probably does. Maybe he even throws these parties just to have some company.”

You think about his answer. “If that’s the case, I feel bad for him.”

The stranger says no more on the topic, instead leading you into what appears to be some sort of dressing room with an enormous walk-in closet. It’s exactly the kind of room you imagine a stupidly rich guy would get dressed in. There are multiple full length mirrors, high quality lighting, and a display case showing off dozens of expensive looking watches.

You turn to look at the stranger as he closes the door behind him. He holds out his large yet elegant hand to you again, and when you take it, he suddenly pulls you close, right up against his body. Oh god, he’s so firm and strong! He leans his face down and kisses your lips, both of you still wearing your masquerade masks. His hands slide across your back, one of them moving down to squeeze your ass.

He pulls away and looks at you, his dark eyes peering into yours. “What would you like me to do?” he asks, his voice low.

You lean in closer to him, pressing yourself to his warm, sturdy form, and whisper, “I want you to wreck me.”

He puts both hands on your shoulders and, not too hard but not too gently, pushes you down to your knees in front of him. He unbuttons his sleek black pants as he says, “Let’s put that annoying little mouth to good use.”

Oh fuck. How does he know exactly what you’re into? Maybe you give off a vibe. You watch with anticipation, licking your lips, as he pulls out his beautiful, massive cock. Is everything about this man as sexy as possible? From the color to the shape to the thick, delectable meatiness, his cock is gorgeous.

You don’t waste any time. You lean forward and run your tongue over it, spreading your saliva around, before wrapping your lips around it. You take him so deep, it feels like he’s halfway down your throat, and you love the fact that there’s going to be a hot pink lipstick stain around the base of his cock.

His hand is in your hair, grip firm but not harsh. “You’re practically swallowing me,” he says. “You must’ve been hungry for cock all night. Is that why you put on that lewd little show for me on the dance floor? So you could end up on your knees for me?”

You look up at his face, your mouth still stuffed full, and mumble a whiny “mmhmm” around his cock. You can see his eyes widen slightly behind the mask, feel his fingers flexing within your strands. You move your head back and forth, fucking him with your throat, fighting back gags, your tongue swirling around him the whole time.

And when he reaches his limit, he pulls your head back and says, “Open wide.”

You’re happy to obey, sticking your tongue halfway out of your mouth to give him a proper place to aim. When his warm cum hits your tongue and lips, you slowly swirl it around your mouth, giving him time to see it pooled inside before swallowing it.

He loosens his tie and then lowers himself to his knees in front of you before unbuttoning his shirt, leaving both it and his jacket on but open. You can see his toned torso, can feel how damp your panties have become. He slides the straps of your dress down, revealing your breasts, and then leans down to take one hard nipple into his mouth. You moan as you dig your fingers into the fabric of his jacket.

The stranger eases you onto your back on the floor, then pushes your shimmering dress up to your waist. It’s the most expensive dress you’ve ever worn, and right now you don’t give a shit it gets dirty. He slides down your lace panties and opens your legs, looking down at your wetness with a somewhat self satisfied smile.

“So wet for me,” he says as his fingers probe your depths. “Such a little slut, getting soaked for a man who’s face you haven’t even seen.”

Ahhh, fuck, his voice turns you on so much! His fingers rubbing circles into your clit are driving you wild. You want him, no you need him inside you!

“Please,” you whine, tugging him closer.

He withdraws his hand and lifts your hips off the floor, pulling your lower half into his lap, his thick cock resting against your needy pussy. “Do you want my cock?”

“Yes, please!” you cry, wiggling in his lap, desperate for some friction.

He has mercy on you, positioning himself at your entrance and then plunging inside. You gasp in pleasure, arching your back as he begins thrusting into you.

“So tight,” he groans, gripping your thighs. “You’re clenching me so hard… so desperate… Fuck, you’re the cheapest whore I’ve ever had! You probably would’ve paid me for this cock!”

“Ahhh! Yes, I’m a whore for you! Please fuck me harder!” you scream, feeling your climax approach as he repeatedly hits your g-spot. When he slams into you one more time, you feel the pleasure wash over you as you cum, moaning and trembling.

He gives a few more pumps, then completely buries himself inside you as he cums, filling you up so well.

You both pant as he pulls out and stands up, buttoning his clothes. He then extends his hand to you again and helps you to your feet. While you straighten your dress and pull your straps back up, he looks at you somewhat sheepishly and says, “I hope I didn’t go too far with my words.”

You blink in surprise, then laugh. “Oh, don’t worry about it! I was into it.”

He smiles. “I thought so. I’m glad.”

You open your mouth to respond, but there’s a sudden knock on the door. The stranger walks over and opens it. A man in a server’s uniform is standing in the doorway, looking frazzled.

“There you are, sir! We’ve been looking all over for you!” the server says breathlessly.

“Oh? And what do you need?”

“We’ve run out of champagne! Your guests are getting irritated!”

The stranger pats the server’s back. “Send Ryusuke to buy more immediately. Everything will be fine, I’ll go talk to the guests.”

The server seems to relax. “Thanks, Nanami-san.”

You watch the scene, trying to keep your jaw from dropping. Now you remember the name of the host, the man who owns this huge mansion that you’ve been shit talking all night.

Nanami turns to look at you over his shoulder, a sly grin on his face. “Will you be accompanying me back to the ballroom?”

You smile back at him. “Of course. I might get lost in this stupidly huge house otherwise.”

He takes your hand. “Perhaps if you started visiting on a regular basis, you could learn your way around.”

You walk out the door with him. “That would probably work, Nanami-san.”

#nanami x reader #nanami #nanami smut #kento nanami #nanami x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #x reader #candys2kevent

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jiminjamms · 3 months

Text

sex therapy :: 26. together

chapter tags/warnings: a very broken marriage. heavy angst. at least i am not gege. mai and maki and megumi as an iconic trio. infidelity/adultery. family drama. strong language. corruption.

word count: 4.8k

notes: thank you for the overwhelming reception from the last chapter! work has been consuming my life, sadly, which is why this chapter took longer than i anticipated. gr. in this upcoming piece, though, my main focuses are the character development in y/n as well as explanations from toji himself. enjoy! likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. xoxo

fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.

A large, warm hand massaged the delicate stretch between your thumb and forefinger.

Gently. Leisurely. Daintily.

Vanilla and cinnamon notes entered your lungs with every inhale, a velvetiness akin to everything you imagined clouds to be like if brushing against your cheek, the comforting sensations bringing back nostalgic memories from the carefree times your heart longed to return to.

Was this Heaven? you wondered in this dark and dreamy daze.

You would not mind staying in this state eternally if that meant the promise of peace and quiet forever.

A voice, not from yourself, dispersed your thoughts.

“Suguru, what are the chances she won’t ever wake up?”

Wake up?

Oh, so you were just asleep.

“Shut up, Sukuna,” another person quipped, this tone more leveled and coarser than the last. “Don’t say shit like that.”

The first person, who must be Sukuna then, chuckled lowly to himself. “Oh, who would’ve thought? Choso is having a soft spot?” he marveled with great interest, “Since when did you care so much about—”

But a third voice interrupted the banter. “She’s awake.”

After a long struggle, your eyes fluttered open to see a crowd gathered around you. Immediately beside you was Suguru Geto. He had been the one nestling your hand, but he practically didn’t look like himself with the concern etched into his brow, replacing the cheerfulness in his typical visage. Behind him stood Sukuna and Choso. The former grinned with fierce satisfaction, while the latter…scowled at you?

To be fair, Choso always scowled at you.

“Good evening, gorgeous.” Geto greeted with a melancholic smile, giving you another squeeze, firm and encouraging. Like a true gentleman, he helped you sit upright, his other hand reaching over your head to brush aside some stray strands by your forehead. “Are you feeling okay?”

Exhaustion, meanwhile, rattled you to the bone.

You were weak, your movements fragile, almost like you were a fawn in her first hours of life. You blinked rapidly while taking in the new environment, only to quickly recognize the gray and cream colors in your surroundings. Back at Toji’s apartment was where you found yourself, with the familiar spiced floral scents from the flickering candle nearby confirming that this was the master bedroom.

Given the dull throb by your temples, you frowned.

“What—?” your voice came out as a hoarse rasp. “What happened?”

The trio traded looks at each other with communicative eyes.

In the end, Choso tucked his hands into his front pocket and took the initiative to speak.

“You were in the Zenin residence with Mai and Maki, remember?” No, not really.“Got into an argument with your husband. Started having a panic attack. Collapsed. Puked.”

Oh…

Recollections from your last conscious moments flooded your head like a tsunami: the screaming, the crying, and the fighting. Loud, angry, bitter fighting.

Fighting for your dignity. Fighting for your heart. Fighting for your life. Goodness gracious. As much as the memories sucked all life from you, you instead felt completely…numb.

After all, you had already been dead on the inside. You were too worn out, both physically and emotionally, to react. Everything that you had to go through since your wedding had brought you to your wit’s end, and this recent altercation with Naoya Zenin was truly the icing on the cake.

When you caught sight of yourself in a nearby mirror, you could hardly recognize yourself. Your expression, glum. Your lips, chafed, Your face, pallor. Absent of any other color than an ashen hue.

“How…did I get here?”

“Mai and Maki got worried and called Toji, who told them to bring you here,” Sukuna answered this time. “You’re lucky the girls reacted fast, else we would have sent you to an emergency room. Suguru even stopped his shift at his clinic to watch over you.”

“I—,” you sighed, lost for words and dropping your tired gaze to the floor. Dealing with inner turmoil to this degree was more than what any sane person could handle. All efforts towards your happiness were in vain anyway, as the cosmos conspired to make your existence one neverending nightmare. Everyone else had their ambitions and shit to deal with, but here you were as an absolute nuisance to the people who should not be otherwise pestered, and you were ashamed for the unnecessary trouble that you had caused. “Gosh, this is embarrassing.”

“We are so sorry!”

Unexpectedly, the apology came from a girl’s voice, and you had to turn around to see three familiar teenagers by the bedroom door.

Just last week, you would never have imagined ever seeing Mai, Maki, and Megumi together. Yet, here you were, watching the twins and their—technically speaking—nephew (cute) standing side-by-side, twiddling their thumbs in their nervous corner (also cute).

Flustered and prepared for admonishment, Mai bowed her head at a slight angle as she hurriedly explained, “We don’t…We don’t mean to put you in an awkward position. We just didn’t know what to do. Maki and I were worried when you fell to the floor and started throwing up. We…We should’ve asked for your permission on who to call for help. But we didn’t know who else to phone, so we ended up dialing Toji. Now, we’ve put you in a weird spot and that is all our fault—”

“Do not apologize. That was the right thing to do.” The comment came from yet another person, and when Sukuna and Choso stepped to the side, who you saw at the room’s furthest end was none other than Toji Fushiguro himself.

He had taken a seat all the way by the wall, with one leg thrust over the other in a relaxed but kingly sort of manner. With his sleeves rolled up, his forearms bled to his wrists with ink, and the emeralds in his sharp gaze gleamed as he stared pointedly in your direction.

Of everyone in the room, his countenance appeared the most composed, but you could feelhim reading through the emotions present on your face. He inclined forward, resting his elbow on his knee and his chin on his palm.

When he noticed the slightest shift in your posture too, the tiny scar by his lips flexed along with a smile.

“So, you’ve figured me out, hm?”

Easily, you could sense all seven pairs of eyes in the room (the four therapists plus the three teens) landing on you. The sudden attention rendered you nervous. Even if you chose silence as your response, the entire room, the entire planet, and perhaps even the entire galaxy could speculate your answer through your expression alone.

After a long while, you breathed out, “You didn’t tell me that you were a Zenin.”

The elephant in the room had to be addressed obviously, and you were not shy to confront the situation head-on.

While you did not intend to sound accusatory, your tone came off as such anyway. How could you not, when you had essentially been misled for weeks? Sure, Toji probably did not want to be badmouthing the Zenins to the very person (you) who had been recently married into the family. But, by withholding the fact that he and your husband were cousins, Toji had created much unnecessary anguish including the current limbo that your marriage was in right now.

Meanwhile, that same man pressed his nails into his chin in contemplation.

“I am not a Zenin, though,” he eventually corrected in a domineering voice, all austere in his throne. “At least, not any longer. I took my first wife’s last name years ago. I go by Fushiguro now.” Curt, direct, and pithy. Toji wasted not a syllable. “Everything worked out though, I guess. Naobito cut me off from the Zenin clan earlier this year. Gave me ten billion yen and told me to get lost, so I did.”

Toji always kept his private matters to himself, but with everything that he had gone through, you were struck by his poise, as if being expelled from such an influential household had been a high-school breakup he had gotten over long ago.

Nonetheless, you wondered if he missed that other life, and you brought your knees toward your chest.

“So,” how should you put this, “you’re not upset?”

Toji scoffed immediately.

“Upset?” A bitter grin spread off his lips. “Why would I be upset? That household is a trash dump. All my life, there were no choices for me to make when my uncles and granduncles decided everything already,” and he began counting with his fingers, “my teachers, my classes, my extracurriculars, my friends. Everything. I was only a puppet to bring honor to the family name, bring in money for the company.”

Listening to his sonorous voice, you rested your cheek onto a knee.

"I see."

His story was depressing, and from conversations with in-laws such as Mai and Maki, you knew that he was not lying, either. Coming from nobility as well, you were also aware of the pressures that came with the people who boasted their 'old-money' statuses, but the Zenin household had always been notorious for being miserable.

Toji had said so before in a prior discussion, how ‘family isn’t family for something like the Zenins’ because both politics and business took precedence.

Then, he went on.

“Some people would kill to have my problems, but I did not want that life, you know? Around the time I started college, I decided that I wanted to make judgments for myself and be my own distinct entity, but that made people upset. Privileged. Entitled. Ungrateful. Whatever. My family members called me many things as a young adult when they figured I did not want to be their pawn for my whole life, with the only person who understood me for many years being my best friend in university.”

Megumi’s mom.

Toji nearly appeared to be an altogether different person whenever he spoke about his first wife. The chartreuse in his eyes would stir with both sorrow and fond reminiscence as he thought about the Mrs. Fushiguro you would never get to meet, his closest confidant whom he lost to the cruel separation brought by life versus death. She must have been someone whom he valued a lot—a person who completely transformed him—as Toji had discarded his last name (which was Zenin, of all things) for hers.

‘He truly loved my mom,’ Megumi explained before. 'He had given up everything.’

Thus, fate could truly be unfair.

The loss and pain Toji must have endured, a topic Megumi had alluded to in his discussion with you before.

Not to mention, the expectations, frustration, and suffocation that came from the clan's elders, too. Experiencing the intense atmosphere in the Zenin household firsthand allowed you to empathize with him. Given the stark differences between him and your lawful husband, there was no wonder Toji did not wish to deal with his older relatives' high-strung conventions.

But, if he had been suffering so much…

“Why did you care so much for what your family thought?” you asked, disregarding the look that the three teenagers by the door exchanged with each other. “Toji, you went to university in the United States. You had a wife and son at a young age. You went from a business background to a licensed therapist, so why did you not—”

“Leaving is difficult when you’re the family heir and the corporation’s CEO.”

The expression that you then returned was blank.

Huh?

His words triggered something in your head, so you repeated after him.

“Leaving is difficult when,” and your voice trailed off, “when…you…are the heir and CEO.”

Heir. CEO.

Zenin.

Toji.

Naoya.

But Toji’s older.

‘Naoya got into a huge dispute with him earlier this year.’

Sheer realization slapped you hard across your face. No way.

“Toji,” you began after letting the revelation sink into you a while later, but your voice barely eeked above a mumble, “so you were once the successor to the Zenin household and company?"

The man in question did not respond, but the silent affirmation from the six other onlookers was an answer in itself.

Yes.

In hindsight, you wanted to say you had always seen the possibility. Still, you never fully registered this until now: the thoughtfulness in his strategy, the sophistication in his speech, the charisma in his leadership.

Previously, Toji had impressed you with how much he knew about the Zenin Corporation’s market share in the Asia-Pacific or the firm’s outsized influence on the international stage. Yet, most (including yourself) would not guess that someone like Toji Fushiguro—your tattooed and brawny sex therapist (plus single dad)—had once been heralded as the indisputable inheritor to the proud lineage and conglomerate.

That had been your mistake.

Toji was more than what people made him out to be, which reminded you to never assume anything superficially about someone—a remark he had once made. For good reason, because he had been referring to himself all along.

You could almost visualize Toji Fushiguro as the seasoned executive he had once been in light of this new information: his black strands slicked into a side part, his charcoal blazer freshly pressed, his leather oxfords newly polished.

Maybe because he was more mature or maybe because he was simply older, but Toji appeared more fitting for the important roles in the Zenin household compared to the man presently poised for succession.

Consequently, you must also ask, “Then, how did Naoya end up in your seat?”

Sukuna and Megumi shared a glance.

Choso grimaced, and Suguru kissed his teeth.

Meanwhile, Toji ran a lone finger down his jaw, following the lines from a tattoo.

“Let me give you some context, sweetheart,” he offered, now brushing his chin as he spoke. “For the last—let’s say—few hundred years, the oldest male in each generation became the leader in the Zenin clan. Is the rule stupid? Yes. Should there be more criteria in evaluating a potential heir aside from birth order? Also yes. But nothing has stopped this before because the Zenins, as you know by now, are a family built on antiquity and tradition. So, when I was born as the oldest male in my generation and Naoya had come in second place...”

Toji did not have to finish his sentence for you to figure out the rest.

Despite the demands that came along with being the next family head, Toji must have been esteemed as nothing short of a crown price among the Japanese elite, with seniors in the Zenin household utilizing all their resources to prepare the once young and starry-eyed boy for taking over such an influential role. Naturally, his enviable position would spark jealousy, even from those whom Toji deemed related to by birth.

Including his very own younger first cousin.

Toji frowned in exasperation.

“Your husband is one childish and jealous brat, but Naoya Zenin has been like that for as long as I have known him. To claim the heir and CEO titles, he acquired the trust from myself and my colleagues by working with us in sex therapy, only to stab us all in the back. He’s a liar. A total manipulator.”

And, from personal experiences, you knew that those words could not be more true.

At this point, Toji sank his handsome face into his immense palm.

“Well, now Naoya Zenin has everything he wants but is still an incompetent asshole. The whole enterprise is hanging by a thread. The entire clan cannot fucking stand him. What’s crazy is that his father Naobito is not doing anything about this, and I cannot tell if that is because the old man is giving his son free passes or because he has finally gotten senile. With Naoya's pettiness, though, the father-son duo have done everything to erase my name from the family, even going as far as to dismiss the executives that I brought onto the management team to undo my legacy.”

When Toji glanced up to cast his gaze forward, you then suddenly understood that the three other men in the room were more than just his fellow board-licensed colleagues.

You recalled Toji’s words in the Teyvat meeting room.

‘I recruited these guys right when they completed their undergraduate degrees, around the time I just opened my therapy office,’ and the puzzle pieces clicked into place from the realization that sex therapy had not been the only thing that Toji had worked with them on—Sukuna, Choso, and Suguru had been executives at the Zenin Corporation reporting to Toji, too. ‘We’ve been working together since, for the past four years.’

Discerning these revelations from your expressions, Toji added in confirmation.

“I had selected these three to oversee the Zenin Corporation’s operations with me,” he said, and you remembered the same conversation in which the men discussed their University of Tokyo studies while Toji listed their previous roles. Sukuna, Economics. “Sukuna, Director of Investments and Real Estate.” Choso, Mechanical Engineering. “Choso, Chief Engineer and Supply Chain Manager.” Suguru, Biology. “Suguru, Healthcare and Innovation Administrator.”

Arguably the most consequential divisions in a conglomerate that spanned numerous sectors, with each department bringing in yen by the billions every year.

‘These guys have treated me like family more than my blood-related kin have.’

Learning this about the four therapists added to your fascination.

For you, the discovery was like uncovering a hidden treasure trove. To imagine everything that the four—as one cohesive unit—had gone through together at the top of the corporate ladder: scrutiny from the media and stakeholders, impromptu meetings that demanded make-or-break decisions, and immediate responses to industry trends and regulations.

Only for them to be cast aside by no one other than your husband.

In the end, this all made sense.

Now, you understood why the therapists were once incredibly demeaning and belligerent toward you. How could they possibly sympathize with the woman married to the man who had taken virtually everything from them?

Heck, if you were in their shoes and had no further context, you would hate yourself, too.

Only now were you hearing their perspectives, and you were grateful that—compared to several weeks before—they trusted you enough to open up.

At last, all you could do was sigh and mutter, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

Sukuna shot back without hesitation, which stunned you given how he had been the one who mocked you the most. Yet, a scintilla of kindness flared in his fiery eyes, so you continued with your tone softer and quieter.

“I feel terrible.” Such vulnerability in front of so many people at once went beyond your comfort zone. “For the unfairness Naoya had brought upon you all, and how I…I can’t change anything. I can’t do anything. All I am is…useless.”

“No, you are powerful,” Suguru interjected this time. “Your husband relies on your public image to keep scrutiny off him. He needs you. He’s been demoralizing you for months because he knows the ball will always be in your court, and never his.”

His words made you stop.

“You truly think so?” you asked.

“Yes.”

Choso, who replied, seemed honest.

He was honest.

He might throw you off from how aloof and stoic his attractive face would appear, but Choso was not a liar.

Bringing your feet off the bed, you slowly swung your feet.

“I…am surprised you all even want to talk to me.”

Toji tugged at his dress shirt’s collar and flashed his ink-covered muscles underneath. “What makes you think that?”

His pointed question made you realize how much Naoya had been fucking with your mind, blaming and villainizing you at every chance, thus devolving you into a spineless worm feeling remorse for every little thing.

Shrugging, you tossed your gaze to the side.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “You could have avenged yourself by now. I am Naoya’s wife and Naobito’s daughter-in-law. There had been a thousand chances for you to do something horrible to me: to hurt me, blackmail me, spread dirty rumors about me, but…you haven’t.”

“Why would I do that?” Toji replied instantly and candidly. Rather than appearing offended by your judgments, he started giving you that look again whenever he had his therapist hat on—the one where he would tilt his head at a slight angle to gauge the sentiments painted across your face. “I could have chosen to be bitter and vengeful for the rest of my life, but I am grateful for what I have. Why let a toxic bunch impact my life? I already told you how that household is an absolute fucking hell. I'm glad I have found an out. At the very least, my son would not have to deal with the crap from my young adult years because you know who is the oldest male in the generation after mine?”

Megumi.

All gazes now fell upon the younger Fushiguro, who tried to casually shrug the attention off.

Who cares if I was second-in-line to leading perhaps the most prestigious family in Japan? his nonchalance wanted to convey, but his ears turned pink anyway.

Toji continued, “Then, of course, there are some people whom I care about a lot.” Using his head, he gestured to the twins. “These girls are the best aunts to my son that I, as a father, could ever ask for. They’re only one year older than Megumi, but Mai and Maki used to go on playdates with him on the weekends, walk him to school every morning, and cook him breakfasts over the holidays. The twins even helped my son take his first steps. There is this one photo we have in the library—I don’t know if you have gotten a chance before to see it. But there’s Mai and Maki, each holding one of Megumi’s little hands back in his chubby toddler days and—”

“Dad!” a very flustered and irritated teenage boy finally had to say. “This is not the time to talk about that picture!”

Next to him, a proud Mai and Maki coo and tease their grouchy nephew, poking at his puffed-up cheeks and ruffling his uncombed hair.

“Aw, is someone a little embarrassed?”

Smiling at the little banter from the trio, Toji did not let them distract him from his conversation with you. “What I’m trying to get at is…life’s too short not to enjoy the happy sides of it,” but his eyes glazed with rue nevertheless, “Now is the perfect time to focus on your well-being. Take a look around this room. A lot of people want to see you leading a fulfilling life, Y/N. A fulfilling life for yourself, not for anyone else. Not for me, not for anyone in this room, and certainly not for your husband. Nothing—and I mean absolutely nothing—should hold you back from pursuing your health and happiness.”

While you assumed that your best times were over, Toji reminded you those good days can be brought back with the right attitude. He had a point. Why should you allow your marriage to hinder you from connecting with people whom you care about, working towards the passions that brought you purpose, and feeling the love that you deserve?

Instead, you should seek every sunrise and sunset as an opportunity to live better and without regrets.

As you ruminated on this different mindset, a sudden knock from the door cut your thoughts short.

Who…

Like you, most others looked around blankly, but Toji ordered from his seat, “Let him in.”

Mai, who stood closest to the entryway, obeyed.

Once she unlocked the door, the room fell silent save for the footsteps of the man walking in, his soles creating soft echoes on the linoleum floor. Overhead, pale lights revealed the lines etched on his exhausted face, the worry that sat heavily on his chest.

“Mister Daisuke,” someone eventually acknowledged out of respect.

Your father did not hear the greeting as he searched the room, his sullen gaze darting from face to face until he found you. His shoulders fell from his overwhelming relief. Still in a suit after a long workday, he stumbled forward feebly.

“You’re alright,” he whispered between steps, scarcely audible.

He crouched toward the floor once he approached you, and when Suguru transferred your hands into your father’s, you noticed the unstoppable quiver from the latter even as you gripped him tightly in an attempt to stop the tremor.

His skin was tough, weathered by his additional decades in life. But, in his palms, you found the familiar tenderness that had comforted you since you were a little girl and, in his gaze, you noticed the sadness only found in the despair of a heartbroken parent.

“Thank goodness, you are okay,” and before everyone, tears slipped past his eyes, “I was terrified. I was so scared. When Toji called to tell me you had thrown up and collapsed, do you know how afraid I was?”

You glanced over at the said therapist, reminding yourself that—if Toji had been the CEO before Naoya—he must have worked very closely with your COO father up until recently. For your father to know exactly where you were and walk in with this expression suggested that the former colleagues had had a lengthy conversation about your circumstances. A part of you wanted to be angry. Why drag your father into this worry? But a larger part of you had always wanted to reveal to him the wretched months that had gone by and longed for his support.

And now, he was here.

The older man took a shuddering breath and brought his fingers to your cheek, holding and cradling you like he would never get to do this again.

“I can’t lose you,” he lamented. “I have lost enough in my life already. I cannot lose you, too. I just can’t. Why have you not told me the truth? If you were not happy with Naoya, why have you not told me sooner? Did you think I would place my loyalty to the company over my own child? I feel so guilty and broken to hear about what you have been going through.”

Frankly, you felt just as broken, too.

In fact, seeing and hearing your father weep like this shattered you. As devoted as your father was, his front never failed to be unwavering and strong. Even when your mother’s death left a significant hole in his heart, he bit back his grief. Scars from your mother’s untimely death scarred his heart, wounds that never healed and would stay with him until his last breath, but he rarely expressed his suppressed sorrow.

All for your sake. Because you were his one and only daughter, his one and only child.

So now, for him to see you in such a sorry state was crushing his whole world that had become you.

“Dad.” You helped him wipe his tears away, just like how he had always done for you. “I didn’t want to make you disappointed. I didn’t want to make you sad. I…I just wanted to protect you.”

“No,” he responded firmly. How could a loving father accept the possibility that his daughter would even think about placing him before herself? “Protect yourself first.”

You looked up when you sensed two more approaching individuals and found Mai and Maki with doleful smiles.

“We still have something to return to you, Y/N.”

In your left palm, each girl pressed one ring—the first which promised a future forever and the second which symbolized an infinite unity.

You stared at the jewelry as your chest remembered the waves of happiness, excitement, hope, confusion, betrayal, and pain.

So, so much pain.

Your father, who would not miss the solemn undertones in your gaze, squeezed your hands in his.

“My dear daughter,” he started, and you could tell he could no longer bear to see you suffer any longer, “what are you planning to do?”

Your throat turned dry.

Any possibility seemed like a viable solution, a means for a desperate escape.

For months, you should have prepared yourself for this very question, but now that you were confronted with this reality for the first time, you did not know what to say.

You had clutched onto the false hope for your troubled marriage to be sorted out. Escaping your dreary matrimony had once been too far-fetched of an option given an impending cold war between your families, which you would never wish upon the stars to happen. Therefore, even as you found yourself stuck on a stifling dead end, you did not exactly prepare for the next steps for the occasion you found Naoya Zenin’s mistreatment too much to bear.

However, times have changed.

Your allies and enemies have changed.

Most of all, you have changed.

Therefore, with all the universe’s possibilities at your fingertips, one particular option stuck out.

“I’m going to file for a divorce.”

last chapter || next chapter

end notes: So many things. To see us freak out at the idea of a divorce during the beginning of the fic, up to now, where we suggested the option out of our volution. Also, the much-needed heart-to-heart conversation between Toji and us, and how that really shows a slow maturation in our relationship with him (and everyone else)! Let me know what you think, and see you next chapter!

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301 notes · View notes

thelargefrye · 1 year

Text

HOW ATEEZ FUCKS YOU (18+)

pairing : poly ateez x f!reader

genre : smut + headcannons + idol au

warnings : unprotected sex + dom/sub dynamics + mxm + i put warnings before each member so you can skip them if you want because there’s a lot going on with each member

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT **

HONGJOONG

warnings : semi-public sex + mentions of safe word + praise kink + filming and photographing

studio sex.

he's fucked all of you at least once in his studio

loves holding you close as he fucks you

EYE CONTACT!!

loves watching how your face contorts into pleasure

you love when he praises you to no end

can't take degradation from him, he once tried to degrade you and you cried before using your safe word

that was first time you have ever used your safe word and hongjoong felt his whole world shatter

treats you so gentle, sometimes a little too gentle for your liking

sometimes you just want him to take his frustrations out on you and most of the time he'll willingly comply

loves taking pictures of you

has a polaroid camera he uses just to take pictures of you during sex

has definitely made sex songs to fuck you too

and also recorded your moans to use in songs that only the nine of you will ever hear

SEONGHWA

warnings : sending nudes + humiliation kink + spit kink + oral (f receiving) + mxm

you are constantly teasing him and being an absolute menace

you love sending pictures and videos to him in order to tease him

he WILL humiliate you in front of the others if you push him to far

he once made you sit naked on your knees in the living room for hours while him and the others fucked your mouth

pretty sure you both have some kind of spit kink

he likes spitting in your mouth but you LOVE when he does it

seonghwa gives the best aftercare, will baby you as he cleans you up

will give you aftercare even if he wasn't your partner, if you ask him to take care of you he will

loves kissing

also loves when you're vocal as fuck and tells him how good he's making you feel

has used you in order to tempt hongjoong home once

sent videos the leader of him playing with your pussy and you begging him to come home

it worked

loves fucking hongjoong while he eats you out

YUNHO

warnings : size kink + strength kink + overstimulation + edging + squirting

a lot more dominant than what people would expect

has a type of power over everyone

you would rather go to hongjoong's room than face a punishment from yunho

size kink!!

he has a strength kink and really likes showing off how strong he is to everyone

please do not make him jealous, you WILL regret it

you once made him jealous while at a music show, and once you got home he edged you for hours

then finally overstimulated you for hours

you learned that day that yunho’s horny and jealous levels are almost the same

the two of you like going at it rough most of the time, but yunho has a sixth sense and can tell when you just need to be loved rather than fucked

“shh don’t say anything pretty, i’ll take care of you tonight”

really likes tag teaming you with seonghwa

has a competition with seonghwa to see who can get you to squirt the most

YEOSANG

warnings : pussy-whipped yeosang + face-sitting + somno + public sex + thigh riding

poor guy is pussy WHIPPED

loves playing with your pussy

please sit on his face, he will beg if he needs to

somno - you both love waking each other up this way

has definitely fucked you at "the show" in either an empty dressing room or the bathroom

totally didn't drag you off after witnessing one too many idols flirting with you

very vanilla between you too but neither of you mind

the two of you often end up laughing/giggling with one another

you have spiced it up here and there especially with funky positions

you kind of have a thing for his biceps and him manhandling you whatever position he wants

you love riding his thigh especially when he flexes it

it makes him feel prideful when he can get you off with just his thigh

SAN

warnings : body worship + edging + mutual masturbation + cum play + creampies + filming on a cam site + mentions of role playing and sex toys

san loves to body worship

whether it's you or wooyoung or even yunho, he loves to let his partner know how beautiful he thinks they are

kisses all over from your face to your ankles

he can either be slow and sensual or an absolute menace

he once edged you for two hours straight for no reason

MUTUAL MASTURBATION

like… he loves jacking off over top of you while you touch yourself

watching you struggle to pleasure yourself because he does way better

teasing you “awe baby what’s wrong, can you not satisfy yourself like i can” AND HE WOULD SAY IT WITH A POUT TOO

likes cumming all over your body just as much as he likes kissing all over you body

creampies are a thing, loves shoving his cum back into you after watching it slowly leak out

you, him, and wooyoung secretly started a cam account

a lot of roleplaying and toys used

your most popular video is titled “BEST FRIEND AND GF F**K WHILE BF SLEEPS NEXT TO THEM”

loves tag teaming you with wooyoung or yeosang or even both

the four of you just have such good dynamics that each time is different from the previous one

MINGI

warnings : lazy sex + pillow princess + cockwarming + voyeurism + pegging + lingerie and cosplaying

loves lazy sex

mingi is a real pillow princess when he wants to be

loves cockwarming and falling asleep or while watching a movie

sorry mingi is a boobs man, he loves your boobs and has some oral fixation with them

he also really likes watching you and yunho

something about watching his two best friends have sex just turns him on

please fuck him with a strap-on

he really enjoys it especially when yunho is there to control your thrust telling you when to speed up, down, or even stop

really likes when you dress up for him

whether it’s lingerie or some sexy cosplay, he doesn’t care

WOOYOUNG

warnings : brat switch wooyoung + lingerie + mentions of strip teases + hate sex

he's both a bratty dom and a bratty sub

just a brat

loves to tease you no matter what

he's really good at telling when you're stressed about life and will always offer to help

depending on how you feel that goes one of two ways

either he has you lay there and he does all the work, he's very passionate in those moments while still managing to tease you a little

or he lays there and lets you use him however you want

both are very enjoyable for him

loves buying you lingerie and having you do fashion shows turned strip teases for him

the others were kind of surprised all your lingerie comes from him only because they wouldn’t expect him to be into that

when you guys argue or get upset at each other, it always ends with hate sex

just you two fighting over dominance and getting your anger out

JONGHO

warnings : strength kink + manhandling + marking + muscle kink (?) + double v penetration

strength kink

you really love it when he manhandles you into any position he wants

but he will also let you do the same with him

he doesn't want to admit it but he really likes it when you control him and tell him what to do

a lot more experimental than people think and is willing to try something if you or the others are

loves when you mark him

especially when you run your nails down his back or litter his skin with hickeys

will take videos of him working out and send them to you because he KNOWS how turned on you get when any of them workout

loves taking you with yeosang

like double v penetration, you three spent what felt like months preparing you for both their cocks

#exile her.#ateez x reader #ateez smut #poly ateez #ateez blurbs #ateez imagines #poly ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez headcanons #ateez addition #ateez ninth member #ateez added member #polyteez.

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holylulusworld · 9 months

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Walkered (1): Frustration

Summary: You’re getting on is nerves. Right?

Pairing: August Walker x fem!Reader

Warnings: grumpy August, sub/dom undertones, implied mentions of subspace

A/N: This is the first part of my sub/dom drabble collection with Dom!August Walker.

Walkered masterlist

“You think you’re funny, huh?” He growls in your direction.

You don’t know what you did to deserve August’s wrath today, but that’s all you get from him. A cold glare in your direction, and snarl as you don’t give him a reaction.

“No. I think I’m cute,” you give him your sweetest smile and bat your eyelashes. If you want to survive in this world, especially at your working place, you cannot let a man walk all over you.

He releases a frustrated huff. Most of the women he met in his life would’ve cried when he barks at them.

But you. You are a whole new level of frustration to him. “You’re neither cute nor funny. Do you think it’s funny to mess with my report?”

You bend down to open the drawer of your rolling file cabinet to get a lollipop from your secret stash. If you must face August Walker today, you’ll not do it without something sweet to make him more bearable.

He’s the epitome of a grumpy bear with an attitude.

You sit back up, looking around your small cubicle to calm your nerves. There’s a fake sunflower next to a unicorn plushie. You smile as you remember the day you got it.

“Did you even listen?” He grunts and snaps his fingers in front of your face. August steps into your personal space to stare down at you. “Where is my report?”

“It’s not my job to take care of your reports, Sir.” You dare not to tell August what's on your mind. He’s fucking tall and beefy and the way he squares his jaw makes you whimper.

He dips his head to look at all the nick-nacks on your desk. “What’s all of this?” He asks. “Plushies, toys…sweets.” August nods thoughtfully. “Do you like surrounding yourself with fluffy things, princess?”

You swallow thickly.

His hand. That large paw is suddenly on your face, and it’s surprisingly gentle and warm. Your eyes flutter shut as you bask in his warmth.

“Hmm…you don’t belong here.” He murmurs. “You hate this job, and you’re not good at it. I see the way you dreamily look out of the window.”

Usually, you would protest, but his hand is so warm, and you feel yourself drifting away. “What is it that you want, princess?” His breath fans over your face, making you whine.

“Hmm…” you’re so sleepy and just want to curl into a ball on your bed, wrapped in a warm blanket. “Warm.”

He chuckles at your reaction. August never took his time to get to know more about you. Now he found your weak spot. You’re a natural sub and love giving up control.

“You want to be safe and warm, huh?” He furrows his brows. It’s been a long time since he found a natural sub. Most of the girls he spent his time with lately wanted to try new things to spice up their sex life.

They never lasted long. Not with a dominant man like August. “How about I take you home tonight? We could talk about my report too.”

“Hmm…Julie took care of it,” you murmur, afraid to be any louder. “I don’t know what happened to it.”

“Good girl,” he lowers himself to whisper in your ear. “I want you to get off work earlier today. Meet me at the garage. We have a lot of things to discuss.”

You blink your eyes open the moment he takes his hand off your cheek.

“I—” you don’t know how to react, or what to say. August was nothing but vile towards you, and now he made you feel things you haven’t felt in a long time. “I can’t. You’re so mean.”

“No when it comes to my girl,” he brushes his lips over your forehead. “If only I knew you’re looking for someone like me to take care of you.”

Walkered (2): Revelation

Tags in reblog.

#august walker #august walker x reader #august walker x you #august walker x y/n #Mission impossible fanfiction #angst #Walkered: Frustration #august walker x female reader

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fuckyeahgoodomensfanfic · 2 months

Text

Good Omens Fic Rec: in the house we remain

Aziraphale buys a quiet cottage in the middle of the English countryside. It is perfect in every way: old-style, quaint, surrounded by wilderness, with a small water feature in the back and a price to rival that of any other property he's seen. He is in love from the moment he sees it. But when a mysterious set of books, all written by unknown author A.J. Crowley, appears on his book shelf, Aziraphale begins to wonder if there is perhaps more to this house than he'd originally believed. The truth can be buried, but it cannot stay hidden forever.

Length: 48,334 words

AO3 Rating: Mature / Spice Level 🔥

Best for: Mostly Safe in Public, At Home, Angst, Human AU

Triggers: Major Character Death

Read it here, fic by commodorecliche

*Minor Spoilers* It's almost frustrating that this story of Aziraphale falling in love with a ghost is one of the most gripping and beautiful stories I've read. It shouldn't work this well, it should be a crack idea. But this is such a powerful piece of fiction. It seamlessly blends romance with mystery and horror. Get your tissues, settle in, this one will haunt you.

Aziraphale has just moved to a cozy cottage in the countryside. If he's hearing things, feeling weird drafts, and noticing things out of place, well, that's just him settling in. Soon, there will be no denying the strange events, and it starts with a set of unpublished books written by an AJ Crowley. The previous, deceased, owner of the house.

This is heartbreaking. It's grief pools over everything. As Aziraphale learns more about the entity who haunts his cottage you will start to grieve as well. The way they begin to communicate was so thrilling and the softest romance. On one hand, we know they're soulmates and belong together despite any obstacle. On the other, it's a tragedy and horrifying. It's gorgeous and grotesque.

It's mostly safe in public, but an at home read for me. If you were destroyed by All of Us Strangers, I think you'll want to check this out. But mind the tags and warnings, there is graphic descriptions of death and major character death. Technically a happy ending? But that's a grey area in itself. I'd love to know how you guys feel about this ending actually

Read it here, fic by commodorecliche

P.S Spoilers under the cut because I want to scream about this story so come back once you've read this

I literally started crying when Aziraphale discovers what was tucked into the attic, the way Crowley was never appreciated as an author was so painful!! Crowley's death destroyed me!! The scene of the water splashing and Aziraphale trying to save him??? Only to come inside and see him?? THE ART???? This one has got me UNWELL.

But also what a horror! Aziraphale never experiencing a full life with Crowley, never knowing the physical touch of a person for what was it 40 years?? That's both romantic and devastating.

UGH I will never get over the scene of Aziraphale watching Adam discover his body. It made my blood run cold. And how Crowley had to watch over his decaying body as well. FUCK this one is so insanely good and how can I explain that to a normie? Hm? Yeah this human au of my blorbos falling in love even though one of them is a ghost literally had me crying screaming and throwing up and this is a normal thing for me

My views on the ending? I think I lean on the horror end of the scale. Yes they are together, but stuck watching over every new owner of the house, still never getting to experience a real life together

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foreverindreamlandd · 2 years

Text

Awake My Soul • 12

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

WC: 7k

Summary: It’s been 5 years since zombies first began their invasion, and despite everything you’ve been through, you’ve managed to survive up until this point. Now it’s time to face your most dangerous challenge yet….the grumpy, untrusting, fiercely protective Bucky Barnes.

Chapter Warnings: Lol what ISN'T there a warning for in this one?? Canon level violence. Use of restraints and a collar (of the non-spice variety) Mentions of blood, vomiting, torture, needles, loss of limbs, angst. Chapter takes place in a prison. Col not knowing how to write heist stuff lol :,) And another one of our beloved cliffhangers.

**Meine kleine Puppe - My little doll

Series Masterlist

**There is a playlist for this fic, but linking it here messes up the tags so feel free to check it out in the series masterlist!

Once you had gathered your supplies, Bucky guided you to the science building.

“There’s a window on the second floor that is close to the wall. We can climb over from there,” Bucky whispered into your ear.

You wanted to press further, but the two of you froze as you opened the door to the building, noticing the faint amount of light coming from the science lab.

Parker. He was probably pulling another accidental one-nighter.

Bucky took your hand, turning to give you a small reassuring nod, then slowly crept past the lab.

A mixture of nerves and curiosity dared you to sneak a peek, only to find Peter’s back to you, completely lost in whatever project he was working on.

Bucky continued on, leading you to a small room upstairs, where - low and behold - you saw a window that had a perfect view of the top of the brick wall that surrounded the camp.

He jumped up first, reaching out and grabbing the bags from you before taking your hand and pulling you up next to him.

Then, he rifled through his bag, pulling out the grappling hook he used to use before getting the metal arm, securing it to the structure before climbing down.

You looked over to your left at the watchtower, anxiety pooling in your stomach.

The gang was going to be so pissed at you two.

They had every right to be. You were going against protocol and stealing valuable resources in the process.

However, when your eyes landed on the soft, amber glow of the alarm system above Clint, a sense of peace washed over your anxious thoughts.

At least they would be okay here. You and Bucky could do the dirty work without putting more of them at risk.

Hopefully. There was also a good chance that this would fail horribly and cause a whole shitstorm of trouble for everyone you cared about and put them into more danger than they had ever experienced before.

Which was impressive, seeing that you had all been living in a zombie apocalypse for five years.

Before your mind could wander through all the ways this could go wrong, you heard the gentle thud of Bucky’s feet landing on the ground below. You followed his lead and were by his side in seconds.

Once you were both safely on the other side, Bucky did some sort of cool, random-yet-intentional maneuver with the rope and suddenly the grappling hook was in his hand.

Just as quickly, it was hitched back up to his side and his hand was grabbing yours, guiding you into the dark woods.

You knew you were about to hit the invisible perimeter that triggered the watchtower lights, though you had no idea where it was or how you’d be able to locate it so specifically in order to not set it off.

Suddenly, Bucky was slowing you both down, staring in front of you at nothing.

He crouched low to the ground, side stepping under what you could only assume was the border, pulling you along as you followed suit, crouching down and side stepping under the line you couldn’t see.

When you were on the other side and standing straight, Bucky turned to you with a concerned look. “Hope that was the right spot.”

Right when your eyes widened in panic, his mouth curved up into a smile, and you slapped his arm slightly with a scoff, pulling a boyish chuckle from him that made you giddy even under the stressful circumstances.

“Come on, Sweetheart,” Bucky said, pulling you along with a smile still on his face. “Next up, we gotta find ourselves a ride.”

It was about a day's trip on foot through dense woods until you reached a vast, lush clearing, covered with tall grass and wildflowers.

You let out a small gasp, and Bucky looked over at you with a smile on his face.

“Yeah. It’s pretty nuts isn’t it?”

“Is this where you finally show me that your skin glitters under the sunlight because it’s the skin of a killer?”

Thus, another moment was ‘ruined’ as Bucky groaned, rolling his eyes.

“I’m sorry to once again disappoint, Sweetheart, but I swear I’m not actually a hundreds of years old vampire who’s weirdly obsessed with you.”

You pouted. “You’re not obsessed with me, Beefcake?”

His nostrils flared “I was referring more to the whole vampire thing.”

“So you are obsessed with me?” you said with a smug grin.

He shrugged. “You’re alright.”

You shoved his arm and he laughed, a sound that still continued to make your heart flutter.

He led you through the clearing until you were in the middle, and then he put the fingers of his right hand to his mouth and let out a loud whistle.

You jerked back, no longer used to hearing such a loud sound after years of training yourself be completely silent at all times. You tried to pull his hand away to get him to stop, but he just shook his head and let out another whistle.

Once he was done alerting the entire world of your presence, he rested a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“It’s fine. The woods surrounding this place conceal any sound. No walkers or runners can hear it unless they were already in the clearing.”

“Then who will hear it?”

He smiled, and when you followed his gaze ahead of you, your breath hitched.

Horses, you counted five, were trotting over to you. All a vast array of different colors and sizes. Was that a fucking Clydesdale in the lead?

A pure white mustang galloped forward, racing toward the two of you at such speed you felt yourself flinch, ready to get out of its path.

But Bucky’s hand on your shoulder squeezed lightly, as if to say it was fine.

Just as the white horse got close enough, they slowed down, walking directly up to Bucky, their head lowered as they let out a soft nicker in greeting.

Bucky smiled, moving to stroke his hand along the horse’s muzzle.

“Hey pretty girl,” he cooed. “Miss me?”

A sound that came out like a disgruntled snort from the horse had you cackling.

“Oh, she’s sassy. I like her.”

Bucky chuckled, moving along to inspect for any injuries.

“Sweetheart, say hello to Alpine.”

“Is she my new competition or something, Beefcake?” you asked, moving to mimic Bucky’s gesture of gently running your hand along the mustang’s muzzle. Her eyes blinked slowly in approval and you smiled.

“Well, she had previously been the only girl in my life. But I’m pretty sure her and Charger are a thing,” he pointed over to a brown appaloosa. “So you’ll have to do.”

You met Alpine’s eye. “Has he always been this annoying?”

Her and Bucky let out a simultaneous snort.

A flash of gray caught your eye and you looked over your shoulder to find another horse approaching. This one had a gray, almost bluish coat with a black mane. They walked right over to you, nudging your back with their nose.

You giggled, turning to pat their neck. “Well hey there. And who are you?”

“That’s actually a new one,” Bucky said, standing straight, hands on his hips. “Never seen him around before.” You hovered your hand flat against his mouth and he licked your palm. “And it looked like I might have some new competition,” he added with a huff.

“Oh don’t worry, Buck. You’re still my number one guy.” You wiggled your brows. “For now.”

“Alright, alright, enough flirting already. You’re welcome to take him if you’re comfortable, or I can pick out one of our regulars.”

“Absolutely not.” You smiled over at Bucky, then back at the almost black eyes of the horse by your side. “I’m taking Hades.”

“What happened that night?” you finally asked two days into your journey. “When Hydra attacked?”

Bucky’s jaw clenched, and he looked down at Alpine’s mane.

“We used to be based out of a big church, one with a giant sanctuary and dorms for the nuns and shit. Steve and I were on watch that last night when the alarm went off. I went down to inspect and found Ward, and I thought all was fine until suddenly I was on the ground, unconscious. Once I came to, the church was on fire. I went out to save the others but half of them had already been…you know.”

He paused for a few minutes before continuing.

“I found Sarah carrying Carol out of the dorms, and she told me Steve went in to get the boys. They had run upstairs to hide from our attackers - we stupidly hadn’t figured out it was Hydra until you said they had taken Steve.

“Anyways, they were in a room on the top floor. The building was up in flames, ready to collapse at any second. I was through each room, screaming their names when I heard them crying for help. I ran in to find them huddled in a corner while Steve was trying to fight off this guy. He looked like he had been shot in the stomach, and he was losing the fight. I threw my blade into the guy's neck and Steve used the momentum to push him out the window. But the fucking impact caused the ceiling to collapse, and Steve was trapped. He told me….he told me to take the boys and go, and I didn’t want to leave. I tried to climb through the rubble, but the building started shaking and we knew it was about to collapse and the boys were screaming for help behind me and-”

“Buck,” you said, guiding Hades closer to him so that you could reach for his hand. His jaw began flexing and unflexing as he fought back tears.

“I searched for him for days. Even when we left and were hiding in the fog right outside our new camp, I would sneak out and go back. To find any trace or sign that he was alive. That he had gotten out. But there was no way, not with the damage left behind. It would have been impossible for him to survive that.”

“Which is why you shouldn’t feel guilty about any of this,” you interjected. “From what you’ve told me about him, I know for a fact that Steve wouldn’t want you to be. He made a choice, and that choice allowed you to return AJ and Cass to their mom. And if you had found out he was alive, you would have done the same shit you did days ago where you would try to run in completely unprepared by yourself and gotten you and Steve killed.”

“Geesh, thanks for the pep talk, babe.”

You looked over at him with a guilty expression, only to find him smiling at you.

Your eyes narrowed. “You know what I mean.”

“I do,” he said. “And maybe I’ve turned more introspective in my old age-” you snorted “-but I can’t stop thinking about the whole cause and effect of this whole shitty situation. Like I said before, if I found out Steve survived the fall he wouldn’t have been taken to Hydra, and he wouldn’t have been there to get you out. And what would that have meant? Hydra would still have hold of a potential cure that we would have no knowledge about, we wouldn’t have access to information about their weapons, their base, the way they operate-”

“You also wouldn’t have met the girl of your dreams…” you added expectantly, giving him a look.

“Well, that goes without saying, Sweetheart.” He winked at you and you gripped Hades’s mane for extra support.

“Well, I’d like you to say it.”

Bucky gave you a soft, adoring smile as he adjusted his weight on Alpine to lean closer.

“If none of that shit happened,” he murmured, and you found yourself gravitating toward him like a magnet, “I wouldn’t have met the girl of my dreams, the best thing to ever happen to me.”

And then he kissed you.

You waited until nightfall.

3am to be exact. That was the time you knew would be the quietest. The main Hydra leaders were usually asleep by then, leaving the fortress only guarded by a few men.

Bucky was begrudging as you convinced him to allow you to take the lead back to the concrete prison. You literally knew exactly where it was, but he didn’t like the idea of you being in front of danger while he followed behind.

After a few smacks to the chest and jokingly calling him an anti-feminist, he finally caved, muttering at how stubborn you were as you held a fist in the air in victory. A fist he then immediately grabbed and kissed the knuckles of, which made your stomach fill with butterflies.

So now here you both were, jogging on the pads of your feet down the small hill toward the metal gate surrounding the grounds.

Four watchtowers were posted on the corners of the perimeter, one guard assigned one each at all times, along with two more guards walking along the fence.

There was a two minute window where one of the sides would be clear of ground patrol.

Two. Minutes.

Not a lot of time.

You had worked with less.

So as soon as the guard walked around the corner to the other side, you and Bucky got to work, making your way to the middle of the gate that was in a blindspot for the watchtower guards.

Bucky gave you a small nod, which you returned as you held up the blaster, turning it on.

A small, blue, glowing light appeared at the tip, pulsating as the heat traveled up and down the weapon, ready to be released in a deadly ray.

Luckily there was no need for blasting in this instance, thanks to a testing session you were a part of with Peter and Bruce.

“I made some slight modifications,” Banner had said. “Instead of this just being a machine to kill, it can be a tool. Adds more efficiency to the product while also helping me feel less guilty about replicating something to take lives when zombies are already doing a good enough job of that.”

You held the blaster to the metal gate, instantly parts of the iron away until there was a human-sized hole for you and Bucky to crawl through.

That took about one minute. The next thirty seconds was spent trying to stand the melted off piece back in place so that it sort of looked like it did before.

Hopefully they would simply miss the new gaps.

Hopefully.

Next, you went to the door located directly across from you, creeping through the shadows as quickly and quietly as possible.

You melted away the door handle, readjusting your hold on the blaster as you stepped back inside your former prison, clutching it to your chest, ready to shoot anyone in your path.

You weren’t going to let them take you again. Not without a fight.

The two of you made your way through the various hallways, bile pooling in your throat the farther you walked in, head growing dizzy, but you stayed alert even as panic tried to take over.

There were a few guards you spotted here and there, and you pressed your backs to the wall as they passed in hopes that they would not see you. Each time they simply walked by, unaware of the intruders that had broken into their impenetrable fortress.

It wasn’t until you passed a familiar hallway, past a sign that read DIRECTOR, that your steps began to slow, fear finally starting to win.

Bucky noticed the falter in your movements and gently squeezed your arm. You turned to him and he kissed your temple in reassurance. For a fraction of a second, you allowed yourself to lean into him, a temporary moment of him completely supporting you, holding you up. Keeping you steady.

You closed your eyes, then continued forward with a steady stride once again.

From the spot you had entered, you knew you were going to have to pass through the testing wing of the building before getting to the cells where Steve most likely was. This was a bit of a setback, because the testing wing was always the most heavily guarded. Hydra’s most precious guinea pigs were kept there, and they didn’t want anything messing with their toys.

One of the doors in the hallway was open, and you could hear voices of multiple men talking inside.

“I swear, Paulding had her.” You stopped right next to the door as you waited for John Walker to continue, your finger hovering over the trigger of your weapon. “He was able to pick up on her tracks, and said that he’d be back in a week with her. She must have taken him down.”

“Or a fucking zombie did, you idiot.” Your blood ran cold at the new, familiar voice that growled at Walker. One that haunted your nightmares almost every night.

Brock Rumlow. Schmidt’s right hand man. The one assigned to torture you endlessly as he and Zola ran test after test on your body. Slicing your skin to see how long you lasted before passing out, slapping you awake when you finally did to start the process over and over again-

“I just don’t understand why we have to keep going out to search for one chick,” Walker argued. “We have plenty of other…subjects to use for our purposes.”

Brock growled. “This one’s different and you know it. We need her blood if we want to continue our work. Walker, if the next search team comes back with nothing, we’ll have them follow Paulding’s route and see if you were right. And if you’re not, we’ll look somewhere else. We’re not gonna stop until we find her.”

That’s when realization set in, and you heard the faint sound of Bucky taking a sharp inhale of breath as he connected the dots.

They were talking about you.

We’re not gonna stop.

It hit you then how stupid it was for you to be here. How stupid it was for you to think there might ever be a day that you would be free of them. That they might move on and forget about you.

Every part of your body was begging to flee, to run out of here as quickly as possible and never look back.

No, you thought. Not until we get Steve.

Instead of moving away, you slowly, carefully peeked your head into the room where the men were talking, only allowing yourself enough of a glimpse to see how they were situated.

You let out a silent breath of relief when your gaze was met with two backs, their attention on the dart board at the other end of the room.

Turning to Bucky briefly, you cocked your head toward the other end of the hallway, and the two of you walked gingerly past the open door, continuing on.

“Are you okay?” Bucky whispered when he finally felt that the coast was clear.

All you could do was nod, even though that wasn’t the truth.

“Do you want me to go back and kill them all right now? Cause I kinda do.”

You bit back a small smile, shaking your head side to side.

After passing by Brock and the other guys, you started walking by different rooms with names on them. Your steps slowed in horror when you got to the fifth room.

Rogers.

Steve.

He was supposed to be in the cells with other prisoners. Not here. Never here.

Without thinking, without considering your options or obstacles, you grabbed the handle and turned it.

As soon as you stepped inside, you felt a wave of emotion nearly crush you where you stood as every memory of being in one of these rooms flooded your mind.

The smell.

The tools.

The chair.

The blood.

It was all so overwhelming that it took a few seconds for you to notice the two people standing over the chair. A tall man with short brown hair and angular face, and Dr. Zola.

The chair was facing away from you, but you could see the back of Steve’s blond head peeking over the top of it.

Both of them wore confused expressions, but then the tall man’s face relaxed as he looked at Bucky, a syringe in his hand.

“Barnes,” he said, as if greeting an old friend. “Good to see you, man.”

“You son of a bitch,” Bucky growled, ready to charge, but you whipped your arm out to stop him as soon as the guy reached for a pistol and pointed it to Steve’s head.

This had to be Ward. Former friend of Shield, now threatening to kill the person he used to call a friend.

It had all been a lie. You could tell by the way Ward stared at Bucky with complete hollowness in his eyes, not a single trace of care for the man before him.

The sudden rage you felt was almost enough to quell your dread, but then Zola started to giggle.

“My stars, can it be? Meine kleine Puppe**? She has returned to me at last!” He clapped his hand together in delight.

Bucky hissed, pushing against your arm but remaining in place as Ward pushed the pistol against Steve’s temple.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Ward cooed. “Don’t you fucking dare, Barnes.” He flashed his eyes over to you and grinned. “So, you must be the infamous Y/n. I had always intended on introducing myself while you were being….worked on here a few months back, but then you managed to get out thanks to this prick.” He looked over at Steve - who you now realized hadn’t moved since you walked in - then back at you. “I’m glad I finally have the chance to meet Hydra’s favorite pet.”

Bucky shook his head. “I’m going to kill you.”

Ward shrugged. “You can try, but you know I’m a quick shot, Buck.” Hearing his nickname come from this monster’s mouth brought back your rage. “I’ll make sure Stevie goes down with me. And after I kill you, I’ll make sure to have my fun with your new favorite pet.” He gave you a smug grin and a wink.

This fucking asshole.

“Wanna bet?” you said, twisting your blaster a few inches to the left and pulled the trigger.

And just like that, the gun pressed against Steve’s head - and the hand holding it - was gone.

Not a drop of blood fell from the wound, the heat of the blast cauterizing it instantly.

Ward stared at the now empty space that his appendage now missing from his body, a scream on the tip of his tongue.

You and Bucky wasted no time jumping into action, him running towards Ward and you towards Zola.

Zola tried to pull out his own blaster, but you landed a right hook to his face before he could manage to touch the weapon, and the small, surprisingly weak scientist was on the ground unconscious.

Though Ward had just been seriously injured, he still put up a decent fight, him and Bucky grunting almost in unison as they tried to wrestle one another.

A large part of you wanted to help him, you knew that the longer this scene played out the more likely a commotion would start, and time was already not on your side.

You turned to Steve, who lay unconscious before you. There was a strange, metal collar around his neck.

Lowering the blaster to your side, you shook him with your free hand. “Steve, Steve!”

He jerked awake, gasping for air. His eyes narrowed when they met yours, as if he thought he was dreaming.

“It’s me,” you said. “We’re here to get you.” You looked over at Bucky, who had just elbowed Ward in the nose.

“Collar,” Steve finally rasped, looking down at something. His whole body was rigid, as if fighting off some unknown force. “Get..the collar off.”

“How?” you asked, looking for some sort of release button.

“Zola…key.”

Turning to the passed out scientist on the ground, you noticed a ring of keys falling out of the pocket of his lab coat. You jumped down to retrieve it, fumbling through the different keys.

“Which one?” You held up key after key. From the corner of your eye, you saw that Ward had Bucky in a headlock. You had to hurry.

Steve coughed. “That one,” he responded as a tiny metal key that matched the material of the collar rested between your fingers. He tried to sit forward as much as he could. “It’s…in the back.”

You looked at the back of his neck, finding a small, key-sized hole. As soon as you pushed the key in and turned it to the left, the collar came undone.

Steve let out a massive sigh of relief, eyes closing for a second.

He looked up at you with a skeptical smile. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

You laughed, tears of relief welling in your eyes as you cut his restraints. “We’re here to rescue you, Steve Rogers.”

His brow furrowed and he stood up from the chair. “We?”

Steve’s eyes followed yours as you turned to Bucky, who was now standing over Ward’s unconscious form, breathing heavily as he stared at Steve.

“Bucky?” Steve breathed out in a perfect mixture of shock and confusion.

Bucky smiled. “Hey, punk.”

Steve’s jaw tightened, his own eyes filling with fresh tears as he ran over to wrap his arms around his childhood friend in a tight hug.

Bucky let out a small, wet sob, returning his best friend’s embrace.

“I’m sorry,” he cried out. “Had I known you were alive-”

“You would have done a really stupid thing, like try to break me out?” Steve finished, pulling him back.

“Something like that.”

“How did you know where to find me?”

Bucky’s eyes flashed to you and Steve turned around.

“You?” Steve asked, trying to put the pieces of an impossibly chaotic puzzle together.

You shrugged. “You know how it is in a zombie apocalypse. The world becomes hilariously small and suddenly everyone knows everyone.”

Steve chuckled, nodding once before walking over and pulling you in for your own hug.

From this small moment, this tiny, comforting gesture, you knew instantly why people who follow this guy to the end of the line.

A small, faint murmuring pulled you from the moment, and you all turned to find Zola stirring, moaning in pain.

“We gotta go,” Bucky said, taking your hand.

Steve grabbed the blaster from Zola’s hand, following behind.

It didn’t seem like anyone had noticed the three of you or the fight in the testing room, so you backtracked down the path you and Bucky had gone down to get here, cautiously making your way past guards and any lingering members of Hydra.

Even when you looked into the room with John and Brock, you once again saw their backs as they continued playing their game and laughing about stupid shit.

Right as you walked by their open door, you finally allowed yourself to believe that you had pulled this whole thing off.

“RUMLOW! WALKER!” Ward’s voice boomed throughout the prison. “SHE’S HERE. Y/N’S IN THE BUILDING WITH ROGERS!”

Nevermind.

The three of you broke into a sprint down the hall as sirens began blaring. A woman appeared suddenly, blocking your path with a gun in her hand. She started shooting, causing you to pivot and turn down a hallway to your left.

“I don’t know the way out from here!” you whisper-yelled.

“Follow me,” Steve called, taking the lead. “I have an idea.”

He steered you down different hallways, shifting his path whenever you were face to face with another guard, until you had finally reached a long corridor. At the end of it was a large, metal door.

“That’s not the one we came in through!” you yelled, no longer caring about someone potentially hearing you. “I don’t have time to melt off the handle or hinges!”

Steve shook the back of his head at you. “I got it!” He picked up his pace.

“What the hell are you gonna do Steve? Punch an industrial metal door open?” Bucky yelled from behind you.

Your eyes widened in horror as a chuckle rumbled out of the man in front.

“Steve, are you out of your mind?” you exclaimed. “That’ll kill you-”

Steve slammed into the door, both him and it flying into the air and landing on the ground outside.

What the actual fuck?

You and Bucky ran to help Steve up, which gave the guards posted up at the towers enough time to aim their rifles and start shooting.

At this point, you didn’t give two shits about subtlety, so rather than carefully melting the individual pieces of metal on the gate, you held up your blaster and shot a massive hole for you to run through.

And then, for good measure, you pointed it at the tower to your right and shot a hole just under the guard, causing the entire top of it to crumble.

With nothing holding you back, the three of you booked it through the gate and outside the prison walls toward Alpine and Hades.

“Sweetheart, I’ll ride with you,” Bucky said, standing beside Alpine. “Steve can take Alpine.”

“Nah, you both take a horse, I’ll run.”

“Dude, what are you talking-”

“I’ll explain later. It’s better this way so that you don’t wear out the horses. Besides, I’m pretty sure I could outrun them if I really tried.”

“Even if that were true,” you said, shaking your head, “you’d exhaust yourself before the fucking sun came up.”

Steve gave you a small, cocky grin. “Are you kidding?” He started jogging deeper into the woods, turning his head back to you as he yelled, “I could do this all day!”

You and Bucky shared a quick, extremely confused look before scrambling onto the backs of Alpine and Hades, galloping ahead to catch up with Steve.

And as you rode off into what you could only pray would be safety, you heard a blood-curdling scream of someone yelling your name into the night.

You waited until the sun was high in the sky before slowing down, and that was only for the sake of the horses. Steve looked like he could have lasted a few more hours. Hell, maybe even days.

Bucky couldn’t even wait to get off Alpine’s back before asking him what the fuck was up with his crazy jacked up best friend.

Steve explained everything, how soon after you had escaped and Hydra lost their most important asset, they started exploring other methods of creating immunity. Instead of focusing on strengthening a subject's blood, they expanded their research toward strengthening the entire body. Tougher skin, faster metabolism, speed, endurance, general immune system.

“They tested the serum on a few others before me,” Steve said, eyes cast downward in sorrow. “I got injected a few weeks ago. It fucking sucked, and I was unconscious for about a day. When I woke up, I knew immediately that it worked. Everything felt- feels different.”

“Did they…test your immunity?” you asked with a grimace, the bite on your stomach itching.

He shook his head. “They tried, but I was so much stronger than they anticipated that I was able to fight off anyone who tried to hold me down. That’s what that collar around my neck was for.” His jaw clenched. “It had a constant electric current zapping my nervous system. Hurt like hell, and weakened me just enough for their liking. I was supposed to be put in the zombie room today.”

Bucky seethed. “I’m going back to kill them.”

“No you’re not,” you and Steve said in unison, sharing a look afterwards and laughing in a brief moment of ease.

That was five days ago, and now the three of you were settled deep in the forest to rest for the night, Shield only about a day and a half away.

You were so close, and as each day passed without detecting any sign of Hydra at your backs the closer you got, the more you relaxed.

At least, you tried to. Even as Brock’s voice echoed in the back of your mind.

We’re not gonna stop.

No, that wasn’t going to happen. The only agent who had been able to track you to the Bog was Paulding, and he was dead. No one would be able to find you.

The two of you had done it. You had gotten Steve out and survived. You won.

“I can’t believe we did it,” you breathed out, head resting in the crook of Bucky’s neck.

His arm squeezed around you. “Neither can I if I’m being honest.” He chuckled, the warmth of his breath tickling your forehead.

Steve passed out shortly after you had all gotten settled. That was the thing about the serum, he could be as strong as he needed to for as long as he needed to, but eventually it came with a price. As soon as he was able to sleep, it was almost as if he were in a coma, his whole body shutting down to rest after all the labor it endured.

You and Bucky were tucked in your new normal position, his back against a tree and you resting against him.

“Do you think the gang’s gonna be pissed at us when we get back?” you asked.

“Oh, for sure. But only for a few seconds before they see Steve. Sam might give us a classic dad lecture about not following orders, but I think a larger part of him will be relieved that we didn’t have to endanger anyone else’s lives.”

You nodded. “I’ll admit, if he gives the I’m not mad, just disappointed line I might actually cry.”

Bucky laughed again, turning to kiss your forehead.

“Thank you,” he finally murmured after a few beats, his fingers moving under your chin until you were facing him. His eyelids were heavy from exhaustion, but his irises lit up in earnestness. “I wouldn’t have been able to do any of that without you. I know a part of it has to do with this nonsense feeling you have about needing to prove your worth - which, once again, is bullshit - but regardless, I’m grateful.”

Your heart swelled. “Honestly Beefcake,” you said, hand resting over his, “even if it weren’t Steve, if it was someone I had never met in my life, I still would have done it. I would do anything for you.”

He smiled. “Same goes for you, Sweetheart.”

The two of you leaned in until your lips met, bringing a comfort unlike anything either of you had ever felt. A comfort that you knew would never go away no matter how many times you kissed him.

And you were happy to test that theory for the rest of your days.

Once you pulled back, Bucky turned away to let out a giant yawn and you scoffed.

“Really? Has kissing me gotten that boring already?”

His eyes widened. “No, no it’s not that I promise!” You fought back a smile, feigning offense. “I’m just tired from traveling! We haven’t slept!” You stuck out your bottom lip into a pout and he glared. “You’re busting my balls, aren’t you?”

“See, you not immediately picking up on that let’s me know how tired you really are, Beefcake.” You shook your head, pushing against his chest. “Go get some rest. I can cover watch for a few hours.”

“But-”

“No buts, babe, unless you add an extra t.” You winked and he rolled his eyes. “For real, though, we’re so close to camp and haven’t run into any trouble. I don’t think we’ve seen more than, like, four walkers within a hundred feet of us in like two weeks. I’ll be fine on my own for a bit. You can get some solid shut eye and I’ll wake you up and switch once I feel like you’ve rested enough to stop yawning whenever I try and smooch ya.”

He sighed, contemplating your intriguing offer. “Four hours. No more, okay?”

“Five.”

“Four.”

“Four and a half.”

He groaned. “Fine.” He scooted down to the ground, head resting beside your leg. “I don’t even know why I argue with you,” he grumbled, “you’re going to wait five hours anyways and it’s not like I’ll have a say in it.”

You ran your fingers over his hair. “And don’t you forget it, Beefcake.”

Bucky passed out within minutes of his head hitting the ground, and you spent the next two hours admiring how beautiful he looked as he slept. How relaxed his features were, the way his lips curved up into a tiny smile, the way he snored - even though he denied it every time you brought it up.

“I’m surprised you haven’t alerted every zombie that exists of our whereabouts, Beefcake.”

There was only one thing stronger than the will to stare at his gorgeous face for the rest of time.

Your stupid bladder.

You walked about twenty feet away to take care of business, still keeping an ear out for anything suspicious.

Total silence.

Such silence, that you almost felt the urge to skip back to your small camp, filled with such relief and something else that felt extremely close to joy, which was amazing considering that up until a few months ago you were sure you would only be able to feel pain and despair for the rest of your lif-

A hand clamped over your mouth, followed by an arm wrapping around your body, immobilizing you.

You tried to thrash free, but a deep voice growled in your ear.

“If you make one more noise or move one more inch, they’re dead.”

Brock.

Tears rushed to your eyes, your entire body going slack as you looked ten feet ahead of you at the sleeping forms of Bucky and Steve.

And the two figures standing over them, blasters pointed at their heads.

Walker, and a very, one-handed Ward.

“Did you really think we weren’t going to follow you, baby?” Brock cooed into your ear, his mouth brushing up against your skin. You wanted to vomit into his palm. “Can’t believe I’m saying this, but I actually thought you were smarter than that.”

So had you, you thought for a moment as the sharp chill of a dagger pressed against your neck.

“Gotta admit, though I was pissed you managed to escape a second time, it was wonderful to see you again. You know who was really glad to hear that you were alive? The boss. He’s heartbroken he missed your heroic little return.”

A tear fell down your cheek.

“Don’t worry, sweetie, we won’t be here long. Just wanted to send you a message from me and Boss.” He loosened his grip, spinning you around until your face was inches from his.

He knew you wouldn’t try to fight, try to make a sound. There was no way Bucky or Steve could wake up and move fast enough to evade a shot from such close range.

Still, you held your head high, and clenched your jaw to keep it from trembling as you looked Brock in the eye.

“You’re coming back with us. If you don’t, I have an entire team of guys a mile away who will follow me as we trail you on your way home. And then we will destroy your camp and everyone in it. I wasn’t at the last raid with this Shield or whatever, so I’ll make sure this time that no one makes it out.”

You bit back a sob. “I can’t,” you whispered. Bucky and Steve would chase after you as soon as they discovered you were missing. “Besides, even if by some miracle they don’t catch up to you, they’re just going to break into the jail again.”

Brock shook his head. “Actually, funny story about that. We’ve been working on moving to a new location, and seeing that you three destroyed a decent amount of the old, crumbling building, we’ve decided to bump up our move-in date. They’re never going to find you there, sweets.”

No.

“No-”

“If you say no I’ll blow their brains out right fucking now.” There was an edge to his voice now, and he took a deep breath to return to his smug demeanor. “Three days. You have three days to meet us here. If you do, we’ll take you to the new camp and you’ll never have to worry about them getting killed trying to rescue you, because there’s no way they’ll be able to find you.”

A pit formed in your stomach. “How do I know you won’t kill them anyways?”

His brows raised. “You know I’ll definitely kill them if you decide not to.”

You closed your eyes, forcing back more tears. When you opened them, Brock smirked, then nodded his head at Ward and Walker.

Though you didn’t turn your head to look, completely frozen in fear and dread, you knew that they were walking away from Bucky and Steve and toward their leader.

“Three days, sweetie,” Brock said, then leaned forward to kiss your forehead. You flinched, the spot where his lips touched your skin now burning.

You didn’t move as they crept back into the darkness, Walker holding up three fingers at you mockingly.

All you could do was stare at where they had been as you allowed that gnawing feeling to sink in.

The feeling that this was the beginning of the end of everything for you.

Chapter 13

#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #awake my soul #ams #zombie au #zombie apocalypse au

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t00thpasteface · 3 months

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Hiiiii₍⁠₍⁠◞⁠(⁠ ⁠•⁠௰⁠•⁠ ⁠)⁠◟⁠₎⁠₎

Could you explain the hipster Vs fandom war. I've been on here for like four years and I never knew that existed lol and btw I really really love your art and you are one my biggest inspos for how I imagine and draw my Clark.

i'm not sure i can explain it in a way that makes sense, and certainly not in a way that makes you say "i understand why this was such a big deal", but gl'bgolyb knows i can try.

first, let me take you on a sensory experience... picture in your mind the following things... skinny jeans... nerd glasses... a weirdly dapper fashion sense in a time where everything is baggy and neon... boom, you have 2010-2014 online tumblr hipster culture. and also 70s elvis costello, oddly enough.

although admittedly i don't know his stance on pumpkin spice lattes.

anyway. now that that's burned into your brain, consider a significant population of this exact type of person that has already been well-established on this microblogging platform around the turn of the decade. tumblr doesn't really have an app yet because smartphones haven't taken over everyone's life yet, and online fandom culture is still largely dominated by deviantart as the main "fandom hub". most people, myself included, are getting their main meme fixes from facebook (which your parents were not yet on) or the icanhazcheezburger image-aggregator network. THEN EVERYTHING CHANGED WHEN THE FANDOM NATION ATTACKED.

somehow, a huge crowd of people who considered their favorite books/movies/games to be core personality traits began to set up shop on this fair slate-blue isle. i number myself among this crowd, having been lured here by google-image-searching for miscellaneous fanart in 2011. the "old guard" largely belongs to, and continuously attracts new bloggers within, a burgeoning subculture that 100% defines itself by bucking popular trends and social expectations... whether or not this is actually accomplished by purchasing beverages from starbucks and putting old film filters on every photo, i cannot say.

you may be seeing an issue already arising: hey, if the hipsters hate everything that's popular and gatekeep all their interests, and the fandom bloggers are obsessed with extremely popular franchises and are hell-bent making them even more popular, isn't that going to cause a little friction?

well, yes. it caused a fuck ton of friction. a division arose early on between "the fandom side of tumblr" and "the hipster side of tumblr." some people, like myself, played both sides. others abstained from the rigid dichotomy and considered themselves to be on another "side," like the science side of tumblr, known for explaining relatively straightforward STEM concepts in large essays that began with something like "listen up fuckers."

ahhh, unfriendable. such a narrow little window in time where cheezburger sites and facebook had equal sway in the online zeitgeist.

interestingly, as someone who trawled a LOT of aesthetic tags, the most popular of which was simply #aesthetic (it was shockingly consistent in there), i never actually saw hipster bloggers complaining about fandom bloggers. it was always the other way around, with fandom bloggers bragging about how much they're freaking out the squares to get cool points with other fandom bloggers, all while never actually engaging with the hipster bloggers because their tags rarely overlapped.

hi, marge! we're freaking out the hipsters!

regardless of whether there was any material reality to it, or if it was simply a Minitrue level of entirely fictional warfare, this concept entrenched itself into the fandom bloggers, likely as a way to still feel "edgy" and unique while, again, obsessing over extremely popular and mainstream things like doctor who, pokemon, avatar the last airbender, the brand-new mcu, and other decidedly non-counterculture media. even with things it felt like no one irl had heard of, like hetalia and homestuck, those were online juggernauts nonetheless, the former of which had dominated deviantart for years and the latter of which prompted hotels and convention centers across the world to implement very strict rules about unsealed body paint. people treated fandoms like they were some sort of exclusive country club with membership fees and a dress code. and dunking on hipsters became an entire genre of Fake Internet Story, which were already pervasive on this website.

what's the point of being in a clique if there's no outgroup to flex on? #swag

this whole phenomenon ran concurrently, even symbiotically, with other tumblrisms like "tumblr university" and those horrendous "not like other girls" memes...

which means, of course, it was absolutely dead in the fucking water once DashCon happened in 2014. i don't need to tell you what happened at DashCon (there's a million essays and videos about it if you're one of today's lucky ten thousand who's never heard of it), but all across the fandom side of tumblr, it felt like finding out your parents lied about santa claus. turns out the fandoms you're in don't actually say anything about who you are as a person, a bunch of tumblrinas can't just will a fully functional micronation into existence just by wearing tacky merchandise in a public venue, and magic probably isn't real.

i wish i had some grand way to end this story, but really the moral is the same as it ever was: online drama is eternal, inescapable, and completely fucking worthless. if you only post to get mad at shit, especially if you're just making up a guy to get mad at, cut that out. touch grass. look at images of cats. i don't remember any of the enemies i made from this era, but i fondly remember all the friends, and i'm richer for making those positive connections. that's all for today's episode of Tumblr History with Toothpaste Face... remember to tip your waitress and stay minty.

#also fellow Clark Enjoyer rest assured i'm going to draw him for his birthday later this month!!!! my beloved big blue boy scout...#shebbz shoutz #shebbz editz #tumblr #tumblr history #tumblr culture #ask

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nuttytani · 9 months

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his vs your spice tolerance

characters: ieyasu, hideyoshi, mitsuhide, mai, gn!reader

warnings: none

a/n: I was daydreaming about spicy food during one of those boring lectures and then this happened. don't mind any typos or stuff, it's not proof read. p.s oh followers of mine, do you still wan't to get tagged on my hcs and fics? even though i pop in once in a century.

Ieyasu

He’s known to be able to hold his spice

There hasn't been ANYONE who was able to surpass him in terms of spice tolerance

Enter: you

Oh boy, he did not expect someone to handle spicier food than him

Genuinely feels scared as he watches you drown your meal in copious amount of hot sauce, roasted and cut chilli (yes, the green or red ones that grow on bushes) and straight up shove it in your mouth without a single flinch

He is scared. Saying that would be an understatement since he has tried your “food” once, and never again. Swears to not even dream about it. Ieyasu was crying his eyes out just from two bites and was chugging down glasses of water…. Which - uhh backfired.

Needless to say but yasu was breathing fire like a dragon

Now has profound admiration for your spice tolerance. No one can top you.

Hideyoshi

He didn’t really have any spice tolerance from the start

Thinks you’re crazier than Ieyasu to…..be able to eat the demonic level of spice that you do

Doesn’t dare to even take a bite out of your food, he already knows that it would end badly for his mouth and his behind.

But he does feel concerned about your health though, eating too much spice can be detrimental to your health after all

Somehow succeeds in making you eat at least a little less spice than before.

(actually, the only reason you reduced your spice intake was because of his puppy dog eyes. Darn em’ can’t say no to those shiny eyes)

Mitsuhide

This man can’t even taste, what do you expect him to say about your abominable love for spice? Nothing.

Except, he does enjoy seeing you place a bottle of hot sauce and plenty of chillies on the side of your plate for every meal.

Once, he exchanged your lunch box with Hideyoshi’s. For educational purposes.

Gets punched in the face the very next day by Hideyoshi, who appeared to be unwell.

He did try your food out of curiosity once, alas, no taste, but he did find the mild burning sensation on his tongue to be intriguing.

You eventually make him addicted to eating whole chilli, ain't that nice? Better than eating random leaves in his garden (and who knows what else)

Bonus:

Mai

Thinks you’re some sort of godly specimen to be able to handle extremely spicy food.

Like, even Ieyasu is scared/amazed by your spice tolerance!

She tries your food once, how bad can it be? Just a little bit of burning won’t stop her from trying it out!

Regrets immediately

Curses her life choices and is now stuck in the toilet

Is currently missing her 21st century western style toilets

Gets the heebie jeebies whenever she looks at your food from then on

She does, however, tried eating whole chilli. After you taught her how to eat it like a pro

Mai is now unstoppable

Flaunts her newfound skill to eat chillies without a sweat to yasu.

Gets kicked out of his room.

taglist : im sorry, i lost my old one- uhh if you guys ares still interested tho, let me know

#ikemen sengoku #ikemen sengoku hc #ikesen ieyasu #ikesen hideyoshi #ikesen mitsuhide #ikesen mai #mitsuhide akechi #ieyasu tokugawa #hideyoshi toyotomi #ieyasu tokugawa x reader #hideyoshi toyotomi x reader #mitsuhide akechi x reader #ikemen sengoku x reader #tani writes!!

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beingdreeyore · 2 months

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I read an article the other day on how cooking for one is an act of self-love for us single folk and I have to agree.

I have this routine these days. Through the first half of the week I scroll through recipes, typically on the Recipe Tin Eats site. I search for things I've never heard of that are common in faraway places and I tag them. One-by-one I add items to my online shopping cart. By Thursday I place the order for home delivery and then first thing on Saturday morning as the sun is just rising (a decision I regret every week), the groceries get delivered.

In the last six months I've tried new ingredients, new recipes, new cooking methods. There are spices I'd never even heard of before that I'm now comfortable using and recipes for foods from places I didn't know existed that are slowly creeping into my weekly repertoire. My tiny kitchen is now too small for the appliances and utensils that I own. Food has become too big in my life.

It's a weekly routine that I look forward to. There's something soothing about it that I can't quite put my finger on, but I know that it works. Meal prep for work lunches is no longer grilled or shredded chicken with a garden salad.

I mention it today because I woke to a wave of grief and emotion over the men that have come and gone from my life over the years, and I was shocked to find myself feeling that way. But then it clocked what feminine things were occurring in my body at this time of the month and I shook it off. I shook it off because the feeling is mostly foreign these days and I'm so confident it will pass as this stage of the monthly cycle passes. The loneliness and lack of love doesn't drown me as frequently or quite severely as it used to. My life has become this solitary little routine that seems to feed my soul and keep it nourished. The cooking and the preparation seems to be a big part of that and I'm not really sure why or how. I just know that every weekend I prep for the week ahead and the learning, exploration, and then the reward at the end really is such an act of self-love that it has a grounding quality to it. It settles me.

The level of acceptance I have for myself and who I am is so high these days. I still see my flaws and I still work at them, but I also am unapologetically who I am. When I'm not at work, even though I'm mostly alone, I now routinely do all these little things that make me content in my solo little bubble. I wonder at times how a man would ever fit into my life now. What man would be worth disrupting my peace when it took so long (and so much money on therapy...) to create?

So it's a simple thing, this cooking routine, but it is an act of self-love. In the madness that is this new year and the world right now, it's a practice in mindfulness that doesn't involve sitting on a yoga mat with my eyes closed and it gets me better results. It turns out that keeping your body nourished can also be a way to keep your soul nourished.

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sin-djarin · 6 months

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Becca's Brunch

Happy Sunday and the seasonal treats are in. Cranberry stuff, cinnamon things, pumpkin spiced donuts - I have it all (not really but we're pretending for a hot second, okay?). But there's probably still some Halloween bits leftover if you look hard enough. And coffee or whatever way you consume your caffeine, grab it, sit for a minute and let us enjoy.

Or, what I've gotten round to reading this week to make more room on the TBR shelf.

First, a quick reminder that what I may like, you may not and that's okay! Please heed individual warnings on fics. Leave an author a comment and reblog if you enjoy their work!

Joel Miller:

first light by @5oh5

oct 29 x stormy days by @trulybetty

Javier Pena:

Paranoid Heart by @goodwithcheese (new chapter)

Unworthy by @morallyinept

anytime by @undercoverpena

Dieter Bravo:

Bite Me by @chronically-ghosted

Working Title by @rhoorl (new chapter)

Ezra:

embers by @sp00kymulderr

Max Phillips:

La Mordida by @imalrightllama

Marcus Pike:

Headshots by @secretelephanttattoo

Or, other bits and pieces that made me smile this week.

Analysis of Tim Rockford's eyesight by @gemmahale

little cute things to remember by @undercoverpena

This moodboard but also all the other beautiful ones @wildemaven has been creating.

Or, what I managed to dish up this week.

Fic:

steep is the mountain Tim Rockford x f!reader

"art" (in quotation marks because these were a hurried job)

Bravo Bumper Stickers

Or, what if, by some miracle, we got two characters in the same room?

See below for Joel being totally fucking unimpressed at Marcus's forwardness.

Sleeves? No, not on this menu. You're safe.

Was this some sort of excuse to post a Rockford-esque image? No, and you can't prove anything.

Well. Good news and bad news.

Bad news. I am very tired. Know how I know? I work with a very sweet woman who asked me if I was tired and that was enough. Also, I've been asleep before 11pm many nights this week and still woke up exhausted. (Sorry @for-a-longlongtime for falling asleep mid conversation!) Corporate chaos ensued and my ADHD brain is teetering on burnout and I like to catch it before that actually happens.

Good news! I have a few days off and I'm going on a little surprise staycation. This is technically our first holiday since pre covid times. I'm excited but as a result, the kitchen will be closed for brunch next week. There is stuff in the queue, but I am hoping to stay off my phone/laptop for a while. Now having said that, I do hope to clear up a little space on my tbr shelf because damn, you're all so talented and your words and imaginations bring me so much joy. Please drop a tag if you think there's something I should read, and I'll be around for the rest of the day anyways in case ya need me.

Now, a very apt OST:

Friends, if you've made it this far, je t'adore. I wish you a week of creativity, rest, as much caffeine or caffeine free tea as your heart desires. Drink water, be safe and be careful. Be kind to yourselves and to one another. Be mindful of your energy and what you put it into, especially as the nights get longer this time of year.

I'll see ya on the other side and if I'm not back avenge my death. I'm kidding, don't do this. It's a Simpsons quote. From Homer vs The Eighteenth Amendment. You know the one? You're out there somewhere, beer baron...

Hopefully I return with Frankie's level of competency and Javi G levels of enthusiasm.

Clearly, I need coffee and so...

Thanks for your patience and the smiles that you bring me week after week.

Love, your emo neighbour,

Becca 🤍

Disclaimer: Joel's expression is not an accurate presentation of mine today, I promise I'm quite happy!

#joel miller #javier pena #marcus pike #frankie morales #max phillips #ezra prospect #dieter bravo #joel miller x reader #javier pena x reader #marcus pike x reader #max philips x reader #ezra prospect x you #dieter bravo x reader #fic rec #becca's brunch #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #joel miller fanfiction #Spotify

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eeunoia · 2 years

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ENHYPEN Song Lyrics Imagine

Shinunoga

song title: Shinunoga by Fujii Kaze

I want you to be my last

If I had to be separated from you like this

I’d rather die

pairings: nishimura riki x reader

warnings: yandere theme

word count: 2k words

note📎: I hope you guys liked it! it really means a lot to me whenever you let me know what you think about them, re-blogs and comments are well appreciated. btw, i love you guys and thank you for supporting me up until now. have a nice day/night! 🤍

permanent tag-list: @rubyanne @en-sun @studioreader @map-of-border @hwangjangmi @crjwon @love13tter @kako-chan @classicroyalty @angel-hyuckie @jun-malone @ncityy04 @bridgebridgebirdiebridge @fearlesskz @abdiitcryy @hime98 @moonsclover @hoonstrology @ddeonubaby @yeoungie @acciomylove @mymeloem19 @jvngw0n @dreamyenskz @minamoons @clar-iii @notmyselfbuttrying @herasalvatore @nyfwyeonjun @rcveribin @yizhoutv @person-standing @black-bread1230 @one16core @sleepyenhasasha @soobin-chois @rcveribin @kyutiepeachy @chareadingpurposes @hwalllllllelujah @solelyenha @90sni-ki @nourhan-8 @nyfwyeonjun @nikipedia07 @yangbreads @drunkjazed @kimmchijjajang @hoonbrry @axartia @all4haru @hiqhkey @sta-rie @niinjo @ssomsworld @purplepuppychild @iceeee @ (still working on my tag-list)

“I’m breaking up with you.” you balled your fist after you say those words over to Riki. He was drinking from his water bottle because they just finished rugby practice.

You saw how he stopped chugging and he glanced at you with those sharp looks. You tried so hard not to feel intimidated by it. He put his hand down and tilted his head over while staring at your eyes.

“What did you say?” he asked, his tone made you think if you should repeat it again for him. It was very intimidating but you know you got to do this.

You’re dating Nishimura Riki for almost two years now. He’s a very fun boyfriend. He loves to play around, teases you a lot, caring sometimes and sure, he loves you. But you just don’t feel it more. Like the level of the intensity of your love was just there, where you guys started. You tried to spice it up a little, being all clingy towards him but he’s not really cooperating. He doesn’t give you the kind of affection you wanted to receive from.

You envy those couples who holds hands all the time, goes on romantic dates and not just non-stop movie dates, game dates, or just spend time sitting by the couch playing some video games.

A lot of girls were telling you how much lucky you are for having him as your boyfriend and you couldn’t agree more. He’s one of the popular kids of the school and a lot of them are probably dying to have your position. But you just can’t stand it anymore.

It’s making you think like Ni-ki just dated you because you confessed first and his friends teased him on doing so.

“I’m b-breaking up with you.” with all the courage left to you, you said those words.

He stared at you, examining your whole face. When he noticed that you’re dead serious, he clenched his jaw and stood up, towering over you. He grabbed his face towel that was placed over the bench he was sitting on moments before you delivered the news.

“No.” he firmly said that left you with a surprise look.

You expected him to just agree on it since it seems like he’s bored with you too but instead, this is the response you got. You sighed frustratingly and followed Ni-ki who’s walking towards back to their locker area.

“You can’t say no! Ni-ki!” you tried catching up with him which is pretty hard since he have such long legs.

When you realized he’s not going to talk to you again, you stopped and stood there watching him walk away. Even before he made it inside, you shouted something.

“Whatever! I’m done! We’re over!” you shouted making it clear for him that you just ended your relationship.

You turned your heels and started leaving the field. You didn’t mind all the eyes that was darted at your direction after what you just pulled. You don’t even care at all. The important thing was you did what you wanted to do. You broke up with him... you broke up with Ni-ki.

You flipped the page of your textbook as you tried to read some paragraphs, doing some advance reading to kill time and distract yourself when you suddenly heard the students panicking.

You can hear screams from outside of your room, talking about something and some students came rushing inside your class. You met eyes with one of them and you looked at her confused when she run towards your way. With a questioning look, you tried to maintain your calm composure.

“Y/n, quick!” she said, tone in panic.

You furrowed your brows at her. “W-Why? Is everything okay? What’s going on?” you asked now really confused and for an unknown reason you started to feel panic as well.

She gulped as she stare at your eyes.

“Ni-ki is at the rooftop attempting to jump off. The teachers asked me to go get you, hoping you can talk to him.” she said that made you stood up right away.

Your heart was beating so damn fast as you started to run your way towards the rooftop. The students around you are watching you carefully, probably curious of what happened for it to end up this way. Yesterday, Ni-ki was just fine as far as you remember. He did approached you once or twice during the day trying to talk to you about what you just said the other day. But you were pretty determined to stood over your ground and managed to shut him off right away.

You were still catching your breath when you arrived at the scene. By the entrance, you can see some of his friends. Their eyes trailed over you.

“Finally, go talk to him. He’s being a pain in the ass again, y/n.” Jay, one of his good friends said as he gave you a light tap over your shoulder.

Catching your breath, you went inside and saw that a lot of school staffs were here together with school personnels and the principal herself. When you looked at the scene, your heart almost fell.

There, standing at the small platform by the edge of the rooftop was Nishimura Riki. He have both of his hands inside his pocket as the wind blow over his hair. He seemed so fearless even if he’s dangerously standing at the edge of a five floor building.

“Riki!” you called his attention and he quickly turned his head over at you.

Their eyes quickly darted as you as well. The principal walks over your direction, her face was clearly on panic. She gently grabbed your arm, “Ms. y/n! What’s happening? He suddenly just went over here and threatened that he will jump off!” she said. You can sense that she’s really scared.

Well you can’t really blame her. There’s a student attempting to suicide at the school premises. It will be big news to the whole city if that happens.

“C-Can you please give us space? I will talk to him.”

You know Riki. Two years that you’ve been with him, you’ve quite understand how things works for him. He may seem like he likes crowd but he gets more quiet the bigger the crowd is surrounding him.

They did gave you space and moved over by the entrance door of the rooftop. They still looked very bothered by it. You sighed and walked closer to Ni-ki. He was still standing and waited for you to get closer. He tilted his head, his expression didn’t changed at all. Just a little excitement flickering over his eyes after seeing your presence.

“What are you doing Riki?” you were scared and consistently eyeing his feet if he would fall or what. You are trying your best to stay as calm as possible.

He smirked at you, eyes dark and cold.

“You broke up with me, right?” he said, like as if he’s reminding you of what you just did yesterday afternoon.

You furrowed your brows at him. Confused and scared to what he is pointing to. It’s impossible Ni-ki would do this just because you end it off. You didn’t think this is how he will react from it. You thought he will just shrug it off and let’s go of it.

“R-Riki..” you started trying to get him go down from where he is because it’s really dangerous.

“If I had to keep being separated from you like this, I’d rather die.”

He said with a serious tone and even stepped backward. You heard screams and you almost ran towards him in panic. One more step and he’ll surely fall.

“You’re n-not serious.”

He smirked, “Should I prove you?” he teasingly said before he attempted to step backwards once again.

“Ms. Y/n!” your principal shouted in panic.

“Okay! Please... don’t do this.” you begged him and you are pretty sure you saw a smirk appeared at his pretty face. He tilted his head over to the side, waiting for what you’re going to say next.

You let out a loud sigh.

“What do you want me to do just for you to go down?” you surrendered, you stared right at Riki and you saw how he smiled a little. It was like a victory smile, like he’s very happy that you fell over his trap.

“Be mine again and never,” he said and his smile fell as he continue his sentence.

“ever leave me again.” he continued.

You gulped and felt your heart raced because of what you just heard. This is not what you had expected to happen yesterday. You thought you will be free from Ni-ki. This is just... unexpected.

You gulped and shut your eyes as you balled your fist, “A-Alright...” then you opened them back only to meet Ni-ki’s affectionate ones.

“Just get down there, please?” you slowly extended your hand at his direction. He looked at it before he glanced back at you.

“Baby?” you called him with your endearment for him. Something flickered through his eyes before he jumped off from that platform back to the rooftop. You can almost hear their relieved sighs after he did that but your eyes didn’t left Nishimura Riki. They’re fixed at him.

He walked towards you and quickly slid both of his arms over your waist to pull you for a hug. He bury his face at the crook of your neck after placing soft feathery kisses at your cheeks and neck.

You sighed to calm yourself before you hugged him back, thoughts all messed up. You couldn’t believe in just a snap, you are back together with him. You’ve planned to break up with him for weeks and just a day, you are back, inside his warm embraces.

“I love you, y/n.” he mumbled, only enough for you to hear.

“I love you more, Riki.”

Your eyes are staring blankly at the white ceiling as you unconsciously plays over Ni-ki’s hair. You blinked, a tear slowly forming the side of your eyes.

“This isn’t how it suppose to be...” you speak your mind out loud that made Ni-ki raised his head from laying down over your chest.

They just finished rugby practice and both of you decided to hang out at his place to cuddle. And here he is, at his favorite position, laying his head over your chest as he lays above you in a comfortable position. Ni-ki has become clingy, very clingy ever since that day from the rooftop.

You love him, of course. You still love him but something in you got freaked out at how he was about to jump off from that place just so you will get back with him. He was crazy to tie you back to him and even made you realized you ain’t going nowhere.

As he lift his head to look at you, you met eyes with his dark, cold eyes. It was like it’s staring at you as a warning because you’ve said something he’s not really happy about. You gulped and stared at him with feat lingering through your eyes.

“What do you mean?” he asked, tone a bit challenging.

You gulped nervously before talking again, “N-Nothing.”

He knew... He knows what you’re talking about and he asked you that question not because he’s confused but to give you a chance to change whatever that is that you said. The corner of his lips slowly raised as he moved his hand to reach over your face. You kept still, a little frightened to what he’s going to do.

He gently wiped off the tears that were forming over your eyes. “There’s no point in crying, baby. You know it won’t do anything.” he stated and even cares your face using the back of his hand.

His eyes roamed all over your face with so much adoration, “You’re so beautiful, do you know that?” he asked and you just slowly shook your head at him.

He leaned closer and placed a soft kiss at your cheeks, “So fucking beautiful and just for me..” he uttered under his breath.

He was too close that you can feel his hot minty breath fanning your skin. You shut your eyes and pursed your lips to keep them from shaking.

“I want you to be my last, y/n.”

You opened your eyes only to see that blank stares at his eyes, he's very intimidating whenever he’s like this that you can’t help but to feel shivers run through your spine. You didn’t said anything and just let him be.

“And I’ll make sure I’ll be your last as well..” he said and laid back at your chest before putting your hand over his hair so you can resume on caressing it. A tear escaped from your eyes in fear of what situation you got yourself into.

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