#pseudo space talk | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aft3rhrs · 1 month

Text

— pastel pink ღ

pairing: namjoon x reader

genre: forbidden romance, step!father au

warnings: dead dove, yandere, pseudo incest, cheating, age gap (the reader is always 18+!), corruption, porn, cnc themes, mentions of masturbation, choking, dub con, fingering, daddy kink, rough sex, humiliation, praise, dirty talk, allusions to sadism & masochism, multiple orgasms, use of triggering words in an erotic and degrading manner* (listed under the cut), creampie, aftercare

*use of the words “rape”, “abuse”.

masterlist

Namjoon used to think that you didn't quite understand the consequences of playing with fire. It was not surprising, after all, considering your young age. You were but an inexperienced cub compared to the wolf that raised you, not yet having grasped the unbridled nature of all things wild.

Sooner or later, though, inching too close to the flames was bound to get you burned. Somewhere in the darkest depths of his heart, Namjoon craved to inflict the pain of the heat on you, mark his territory with a swirl of scars.

Wasn't every father's daughter his most precious gift? Pretty like a doll, with a heart that had flowers and thorns tangling through it. A bricked, bleeding house that welcomed no intruders. He wanted nothing more than to keep it safe.

It was those protective instincts that had always kept him in check, tamed, in constant agony over something he could never have.

Until tonight.

Until it turned out your doe eyes and the pastel pink of your bedroom were misleading lies; and you yearned for the burn of the fire, simply too afraid to dive into its scorching depths.

And what was his duty if not to help you experience life, fulfill all your soul's desires? With immense love and a guiding, fatherly hand, now stuck in between your soft thighs.

"Is this what you like?"

The hoarse whisper made you clench. You whimpered in response, your eyes growing warm.

"No."

You knew it was pointless to lie; he could feel you soaking his fingers, pulsing around their thick girth. But it was too much handle, and the filthy video playing on the screen made you want to shrink.

"Yeah," Namjoon coaxed, breathing into your ear. "You like watching old men fuck their daughters? Like watching them abuse their good little girls?"

Relentless, he pumped the digits in and out of your poor cunt, and the tears overflowed, a dangerous combination of the shame and the orgasm rippling through you. From deep inside your tummy, all the way through your spine, prompting your thighs to tremble on top of his.

What a stupid mistake; to lie down and let your eyes flutter closed right after coming. You weren't even sure when you drifted off, your laptop barely shut, still resting by your side. Namjoon came into your bedroom to check on you, tuck you in and turn off the light, as he'd done a hundred of times before.

The website on the screen caught his eye.

Dreams were safe; reality was different. No one was ever supposed to see this side of you. Especially not the man whose name was stamped all over the walls of the private, forbidden rooms that took up the space in your head. Not the man you looked up to, respectable and smart, all warmth and dimpled smiles, with such deep, kind eyes behind his pristine glasses.

Not Namjoon.

"Fuck," he cursed softly, one arm curled around your waist, grounding you. "That's it..."

Hips stilling, you attempted to catch your breath. Dizziness washed over you. You've never felt this good before; and perhaps a part of the reason why was that you were doing something very bad. The thought of your mother coming home still lingered at the back of your mind — no longer an imminent threat, the bullet dissolving in the haze of the bliss, though its existing chill persisted.

This would be quite a sight for the poor woman to witness; her husband's fingers buried deep in her only daughter's cunt, legs spread wide open on his lap. The lewd porn playing on your laptop only served as the final nail in the coffin.

You winced as Namjoon slipped out of you gently, disoriented. Your legs felt like jelly, but his hold on you was secure, your only safety net.

He stood up, lifting you with him. He didn't try to lead you back to your bed, instead placing a large palm on the small of your back and pushing forward.

You let your cheek rest on the cold surface of the desk, trying to ignore the dirty sounds of sex coming from the screen. Maybe it was the emotions muddling your brain, but you couldn't move, helpless as an animal with their leg caught in a trap.

In spite of the carelessness on your part, you've never imagined Namjoon reacting this way. You'd thought he would have been disgusted, concerned — embarrassed at the very least — and the topic would never be brought up.

Yet here he was, unzipping his pants, about to fuck you on the same desk you occupied to complete your homework every night. In the same room that used to be adorned in plushies and fairy lights, saturated with all of your innocence.

It was different than any taboo feeling or thought you might have entertained in secret; the forbidden fruit no longer a fantasy, but a sin weighing down on the palm of your hand, ripe for the tasting. Its only price was being cast out.

Namjoon caressed your ass, the foreign sensation causing more slick to dribble down the apex of your thighs.

"Such a good slut," he breathed.

The word whipped through you, leaving your skin stinging and lungs emptied of air. He hasn't addressed you with anything but respect before; in fact, you didn't think you've ever heard him use such vulgar language.

You clenched, as though the degradation chipped away at your brain, dumbed it down to a blissful void.

"No," you whined out in protest; of what, you weren't sure anymore.

You felt his hand lock around your wrists.

"Yeah, you are," he cooed. "You're my little toy, and toys get played with. I may be too old for that..." he slid your underwear down your thighs, "but you're not, are you, baby?"

A shiver ran through you, arousal mingling with a tinge of fear the moment he leaned over you, his chest resting firm against your back.

"Don't you want daddy to play with you?" He whispered, flooding your nape with goosebumps. "Seems to me that you do."

This wasn't the Namjoon you've grown to know; this was something different, sinful and ravenous. The rattle of the cage was nothing compared to it being set loose, claiming ownership over you, corrupting and consuming.

But you were wetter than ever, slick flowing like honey and coating the heated, swollen tip of his cock as soon as it pressed against you.

Namjoon was faring no better; his collar open and tie loosened, shirt wrinkled with the memory of your fingers grasping at it. All of his self restraint was gone, the cracked lock broken and the dented cage empty.

You did that.

He had a wife, a job, a good reputation. He worked hard to achieve success, however, the path laid out before him has always looked rather bleak without you in the picture.

And any doubts that troubled him in the past went up in the flames the moment he peeked at your laptop. Of course it was him you longed for, his cock you needed in your little pussy. You were daddy's perfect little girl, all too aware of your purpose. To be ruined and loved and owned by him.

His hand encased your neck, a grip that instantly made your head tingle. He pulled you up, letting you sink into his chest. His breath tickled your ear, and the girthy cockhead pushed against your slit once more, leaking.

"Why are you shaking, baby?" he inquired, sliding his free hand up your stomach. Palm wide open, only to close around your breast and squeeze. "Isn't this what you wanted?"

No. Yes? No. It was so wrong. You shook your head, like that would change anything; turn back time, conceal the truth, get you out of trouble.

Namjoon chuckled.

"It is," he husked, plush lips brushing against the shell of your ear. He moved his hips, rubbing himself against your nub teasingly. "You wanted daddy's cock, just like all these dirty girls on screen."

He eased his hold on your throat, but his hand remained around it; a reminder that he was in control.

Your head was swimming as more oxygen rushed in, but it made almost no difference. His words, his touch, they had a hold on you too, squeezing your lungs, making your clit throb beneath his touch.

"Wanted to be mine..." his tone mellowed out to silk, seductive and light. "Wanted to be my pretty, little angel, and take it behind mummy's back, hm?"

Eyes teary and barely open, you gasped.

"Even better if I just make you take it, right? You won't have to feel so guilty, and you can still slobber and cream all over it."

Your knees were close to giving out, wetness gushing obscenely onto his thick length. As if he could sense it, Namjoon tightened his arm around you, lifting a hand to wipe away the tears that fell.

"Oh sweetheart," he shushed, "see? Daddy knows what you need. Your eyes are wet, but your pussy is wetter. Bet it's tight, too. Tighter than your mother's."

He palmed his cock, at last positioning it back at your small entrance.

"Not that I ever wanted hers anyway."

It seemed your soul left your body the moment he sank in, and he swallowed all of it with his kiss. Any remnants of your thoughts, integrity or coherence; all swiped away with the lick of his tongue and the delicious stretch that left your cunt clenching and insides churning.

The noise he let out sent a thrill through you. He broke the kiss, broke you, his gleaming eyes hooded and adoring, staring deep into yours. Time seemed to fizzle out of existence.

Then he thrusted.

"Fucking whore."

A croaky whisper, followed by a moan you barely recognized as your own.

"I tried to stay away, but my baby just had to be a fucking whore. Couldn't help wanting daddy to rape her."

You shuddered, breath caught in your throat and hand clutching his bicep.

There was no going back, and at this point, it didn't matter. At this point, exposed and full of him, you ached for more; and like a good dad, Namjoon was there to cater to your needs.

He pulled out, only to slide back inside the velvety heat, pleasure bursting and simmering through. No more teasing; just shivers, and long, deep strokes that made his balls slap against your skin.

His breath fanned your neck, unsteady, edged with soft groans. He barely fit inside you, but your pussy took him so well, as though it was always meant to be his.

The way he fucked you drowned out whatever porn was still playing on your laptop, long forgotten, nothing compared to the depravity happening right in front of it. He pounded into you harder, keeping a steady pace. The desk began to thud, repeatedly hitting the wall behind it.

"Like that?" He mumbled into your cheek, his thumb lazily rubbing your stiff nipple. "Right there?"

He required no verbal answer. Not when you were so soft and pliant in his arms, the rush taking over. Still, he enjoyed the way you squirmed at the questions, eyes closed and luscious lips wide open, making the most heavenly little sounds.

He wasn't going to last; there was no time to waste, besides, the simple fact that your warm, wet hole was taking his cock — raw — was enough to push him close to the edge.

Desperate, he took a hold of your jaw and turned your face towards him. His lips were an inch away from yours, the intimacy of it tender and aching, like a bruise.

"Say, 'thank you, daddy,'" he murmured. '"Thank you for fucking my tight, little cunt.'"

You responded with a mewl, your muscles tensing along with the knot in your tummy.

"Gonna—"

Namjoon groaned. Too out of breath to finish the sentence, too fucked out, you let yourself go limp as he pummeled into you.

"Come?" He suggested, wanting to laugh at how quickly you nodded, but your walls were getting so tight only a moan came out. "Fuck. Good girl, making daddy so proud." His forehead touched yours, as if he could get any closer. "You deserve a reward."

The moment you clamped down on him, he muffled the cry that broke through with his lips, crashing them into yours. He kissed you hungrily, tongue and teeth, reaching the peak of his limit as your cunt quivered, effortlessly massaging his cock with the convulsions. He couldn't resist its pull sucking him in, trapping him in place to do what it was made for.

He groaned loudly, letting his seed spill as deep as it would go, letting you see stars right there on the ceiling; like the glowing stickers he used to put up there for you, just an old father and daughter tradition. Your eyes rolled back, and it had him gritting his teeth, grinding into you until you couldn't stand, and his own legs barely kept him up anymore.

He panted softly, gulping as you melted into him, both of his arms hugging your waist. Slowly, the heat was receding, and in its stead serenity crept in.

It was quiet when he washed you up, his hands gentle, wiping the mess in between your thighs and the sweat off your brow. Dressed in a clean shirt and underwear, you climbed under your blanket. Beyond sleepy and sated, your heart still felt heavy.

The edge of the mattress dipped as Namjoon sat down beside you, extending his arm to cup your cheek. Only then did he meet your eyes.

"I love you."

He's said it to you before, but it felt different now. It was different. And it made him hesitate, reduced his voice to a whisper.

"You're the best thing... that's ever happened to me. That's never gonna change. You know that, right?"

You nodded, wondering how in such a messed up situation a few words could feel so comforting. Perhaps it was because they were coming from him. Would that always be enough? Will it feel the same when you wake up in the morning?

Namjoon bent down to press a lingering kiss onto your temple, coaxing your eyes to shut.

"Don't worry about anything, okay? Just trust me, baby. And get some rest."

You relaxed, acknowledging the request with a small sigh. He watched you fall asleep, stroking your hair, trying not to dwell on how much he wished he could stay. At least he'd be able to get into bed before his wife came home.

In the darkness of his bedroom, he settled into the cool sheets, his glasses set aside and clothes neatly folded. He heard the front door unlock, the keys jiggling, and closed his eyes.

Time to sleep.

Time for a change of plans was awaiting him tomorrow.

taglist 💌: @baalsgurl1913 @httpsbts @hoseokshobagi @pynkgothicka @art-3-miss @sweetempathprunetree @blueberryarchive @messyjk @themochiverse @minyoongiboongi @chimmisbae @crisle19 @bangtans-momma @get-that-brain-working @babycandy111 @mother2monsters @whipwhoops @svnbangtansworld @ane102 @stellalovesstarss @jksteponme @httpjeonlicious @iceprincessviviane

#dead dove #yandere bts #namjoon x reader #bts x reader #bts reactions #bts smut #bts imagines #bts scenarios #namjoon smut

568 notes · View notes

simpforrooster · 9 months

Text

heard it all.

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x f!Reader

summary: reader vents to mav and penny about her feelings for a certain mustached fighter pilot. a/n: my take on a request from @kpopgirlbtssvt. i latched on to one part of the request and took off. i hope you still like it!

"What's going on in that head of yours?" the low voice of Maverick pulls you from your thoughts.

"Hmm, I don't know what you're talking about," you reply, continuing on without another thought.

"You've been wiping down that same spot of the bar for ten minutes."

Maverick and Penny, your boss, exchange a knowing glance. You look at the rag in the hand as if seeing it for the first time.

"I think it's plenty clean, y/n," Penny comments, winking at Mav.

Placing a hand on your hip, you stare the two of them down. "What are you two silently saying to one another?"

Penny shrugs a shoulder. "Oh nothing." You can see it in her eyes though. She knows exactly what has your brain all a-mush.

More like who.

Bradley Bradshaw.

The Hawaiian shirt wearing aviator.

The hot Hawaiian shirt wearing aviator.

He captured your heart the first day you met him. Sure, his looks were what drew you to him initially. But he was so nice. Like green flags all around.

You shake your head at the two people who have become a pseudo family to you. Tossing the rag onto the counter, a sigh escapes your mouth.

"Y'all just give it up. We're just friends." Your voice breaks on the word friends, and your eyes squeeze shut to hide your embarrassment.

"Come on," Penny starts.

Holding up a hand, you stop her. "Penny, please. It already hurts enough. He's the nicest, sweetest guy I've ever met."

Your chest heaves as you breath through your emotions.

"I have never met another man like him. He makes me feel seen. He makes me feel beautiful."

Maverick makes a move like he is going to say something, but Penny lays a hand on his arm, stopping him.

"And as if the silly little age difference isn't enough, he only sees me like a sister." A tear falls along your cheek, surprising you. Of course, you've grieved the non-relationship before. It isn't out of the norm to sob into your wine glass with Phoenix.

It's the first time you've ever cried in front of Penny and Mav.

The sound of a clearing throat has your spinning around.

Rooster looks at you, his brows knit together. You can't read the look on his face, but it can't be good. It tells you everything you need to know.

He heard it all.

And he doesn't feel the same.

Reaching up to sloppily wipe your tears, you tried to step around him, mumbling something so incoherent you can't decipher the words.

Rooster's strong arms reach out and stop you in your tracks.

"I can promise you I do not see you as a sister," he says, his voice low.

Not that you try, but words refuse to come out your mouth. How could they? The way he's staring at you has your heart beating in overdrive.

"Did you really mean all that?" he asks. His eyes roam over your face, searching for something. It takes you a second to realize he looks a little scared.

Scared of being rejected.

Bradley doesn't like you back. There's no way. He's had plenty of opportunities to make a move and hasn't.

He takes one step closer to you, the soles of your shoes meeting.

"Of course, Bradley." The sentence comes out barely a whisper, but he heard it. His hand snakes around your neck and settles into your hair. "Why wouldn't I be madly in love with you?"

A delicious groan escapes from his mouth before he closes the space between you. His lips meet yours and suddenly the Earth moves beneath your feet as the planets snap into alignment.

Bradley's lips are finally on yours, and it feels every bit as right as you imagined.

He pulls back so his mouth is feather light against yours. "Sweetheart, I am wildly in love with you." The words fall on your ears in soft whispers. Your eyes fall closed to relish in the way all this feels.

Bradley brings his mouth back to yours, pulling you tight against him. Your height difference has never been more apparant that right this second.

"Okay, okay, get a room," Maverick calls, followed by a, "Oof," as Penny's arm comes into contact with his solid stomach.

a/n: i hope y'all enjoy this one! i've been struggling with a little bit of writer's block.

#top gun maverick #top gun #top gun maverick fic #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #rooster fanfic #rooster top gun #bradley bradshaw #bradleybradshaw #bradley x reader

1K notes · View notes

etherealising · 10 months

Text

chapter two | the weight of existing

↢ previous chapter | next chapter ↣

pairings: platonic!mikey berzatto x fem!reader | carmen berzatto x fem!reader (future)

summary: you and carmy try to get to the bottom of your issues, only for carmy to sow further division between you two, leading you to share some unwelcome thoughts regarding life with mikey.

wc: 4.5k

You had been at the Berzatto family home for an hour now, and everything was in absolute chaos. You thanked your lucky stars for growing up around this family. If this had been your first time spending a holiday with them, you were sure your fight or flight alarms would be blaring right now. You had been in the kitchen with Donna ever since your and Carmy’s stifled meeting earlier in the evening.

You loved Donna, really you did, and you appreciated everything she did for you when your mom couldn’t. But if you knew anything by being an honorary member of the Berzatto family, you knew that being in the kitchen with Donna during the holidays wasn’t the most pleasant of places to be. And you saw your perfect escape when Carmy entered the kitchen, removing Donna’s attention from you and the conversation about how the world of journalism was treating you since you last came home in November.

Your eyes caught Carmy’s as he was swept into his mom’s explanations about what needed to go in the oven and when. You flashed a smile nodding as a sign of encouragement, you were rewarded with a small twitch of his lips before you disappeared into the hallway intending to take a lap around the house and greet the other guests scattered around the house.

The body leaning against the kitchen wall, seemingly trying to become one with the wallpaper caught your attention. Upon further inspection, you realized it was Natalie, a face you were more than happy to see after being in the same house together for over an hour. You gently brushed your hand across her shoulder doing your best not to startle her, her head shot up worry inked in her blue eyes, a deep breath leaving her as she took in whose presence was invading her space.

“Hey Baby,” The slight uptick of her lips showed you just how exhausted she already was, her eyes searching yours for any answers regarding the constant worries shooting through her mind. “How’ve you been, are you alright, I know mom can be a bit much during the holidays.” You let out a small chuckle pulling the older girl into a much-needed hug for the both of you.

“Do you ever take a moment to stop worrying about everyone else and focus on yourself?” You asked her pulling back slightly to further take in her appearance. You loved Nat dearly, she was pretty much the sister you never had, but you hated how she would run herself dry trying to fix everything for everybody else.

You squeezed her hand that was still clutched in yours letting her know that she wasn’t alone and could rely on you if need be. You pushed a stray piece of hair out of her face watching as she leaned her head back against the wall taking a moment for herself. “You worry about everyone Nat, but who worries about you love?” You questioned, and she knew this was no rhetorical question, you expected a genuine answer.

Allowing Nat to take in your words you walked around to the other side of her to lean against the wall next to her, she turned her head watching you take up a similar position as she. “Are you reciting lines from a self-help book?” Your eyes met hers watching as the edges crinkled signifying the smile she now wore, you huffed letting out a chuckle and knocking your shoulder into hers.

“You’re laughing Nat, but I’m serious. And even if I did steal that line from some book, I think it applies scarily well to you Sugar.” The last words spilled from your lips in a sarcastic tone, your eyebrows raising as she rolled her eyes at the sound of her nickname bestowed upon her by her Berzatto counterparts.

“I made a mistake Baby, you chose your nickname.” Nat deadpanned

You laughed, the sound drowned out by whatever conversation everyone else in the house was having. “You tell me what teenage girl didn’t have a crush on Johnny Castle, I will forever cherish your mom for letting me watch Dirty Dancing on my 14th birthday.” You sighed dreamily watching as Natalie shook her head at your antics.

“Baby, that is such a lame excuse,” Nat laughed, turning to face you. “You literally wouldn’t answer to anything else but Baby for a whole week after your birthday. Need I remind you, you took your obsession further and dressed up for Halloween as Baby.” She laughed, her voice filled with what you realized was a reminiscent tone, “I can’t believe you suckered Mikey into dressing up as Johnny though.”

You smiled remembering back to the exact Halloween she was talking about, “Carmy’s head was too far up his ass to dress up with me.” You huffed recalling how Carmy swore up and down that he was too old to dress up anymore. “Plus I think Mikey just did it to make me feel better, that was around the time my mom was having all her health issues.” You shrugged not thinking too much about Mikey’s motivations.

You finally turned to face Natalie, your positioning mirroring hers, “What do you say we find your mom’s old photo albums and hang out with Tiff for a few.” You suggested holding your hand up as Nat was about to give you some excuse to not take a beat for herself. “Shut up Nat your moms will be fine she’s got Ratatouille in the kitchen with her and about a hundred fucking bums in the living room.” Your dig at Carmy brings a slight smile to her face.

The sound of dishes clattering in the kitchen caught your attention a mumbled “Fuck.” Meeting your ears followed by a more coherent “I don’t fucking come home to be compared to a fucking French rat.”

You shared a knowing smile with Natalie, the two of you giggling like school girls in the hallway outside of the kitchen, “I’ll grab the photo albums,” You heard Nat mumble as she walked in the direction you presumed Donna kept the family keepsakes. The minute Nat was out of your sight you let out a deep sigh, you couldn’t help the impending feeling that things were going to get a lot more hectic in the coming hours, and taking a minute to relax with Nat and catch up with Tiff was an out you were definitely looking to take advantage of. Resting your head back against the wall eyes closing as the minutes ticked by while you waited for Nat to collect you, you knew deep down that break wouldn’t be coming but holding on to the idea of a little calmness in a situation helped you fool yourself into believing everything would be alright.

“You good?” Your eyes shot open as the all too familiar voice of Carmen Berzatto filled your ears, though what should’ve alerted you to his presence was the scent of his cologne, a scent you hadn’t smelled in a very long time, yet somehow your body instinctively remembered. You looked to see him standing idly in the doorway of the kitchen, a fresh cigarette hanging from his lips. “Uh, I’m gonna get a quick smoke in, did you - I know you don’t smoke - but you look - and.” You cut his pathetic ramblings off, not quite in the mood to play finish the lyric with him.

“Yeah Carm, I’ll join you outside.” You nodded passing him by to head towards the door, being in the same vicinity as him after so long made you physically ache. And now that you had seen him and deduced that he was in good health, you couldn’t help but feel a little pissed off at the lack of contact between the two of you. No, it wasn’t even a lack of contact. Carmy dropped you like a bad habit and never looked back. As you made your way to the front porch you tried to reason with yourself that Carmy didn’t owe you anything, he didn’t owe you his friendship, or his time, no matter how long you two had known each other. If Carmen woke up one day and decided you were no longer an essential part of his life, he was well within his rights to do so, he was a grown man for crying out loud. But what you wouldn’t stand for, what your brain couldn’t allow you to accept was being cut off with no explanation, you were sure this whole situation between the two of you would’ve hurt less if he had just explained to you why you were no longer good for him.

And maybe you were lying to yourself, and the explanation would have actually made things worse, but you couldn’t change what already was. And as Carmy slowly made his way to follow you out of the house you decided today was the day you were getting answers, call it Carmy’s last-minute Christmas gift to you.

The two of you stood next to each other. A good distance between you two, Carmy respecting you enough to not smoke directly next to you. Carmy tried his hardest to not steal glimpses of you in his peripheral vision, but it was hard not to when you were standing there beside him. If times were different he might’ve reached out to touch you, to assure himself you were physically here with him. To remind himself of what once was between the two of you. What could no longer be?

“Uh-um how have you bee-”

“Why?” You interrupted him, not particularly in the mood for his avoidance tactics.

“Wha-what?” He turned to face you and you wanted to laugh, you weren’t sure if he was genuinely confused or acting incompetent so you’d be the one to apologize. You copied his stance, eyes tracing across every inch of his face, you gave in with a sigh. Carmy was never one to weaponize any incompetence he may have had, you weren’t even sure if he knew how.

“Why are you asking Carmen, do you actually care, or are you just trying to make small talk?” You watched as he removed the cigarette from between his lips, holding it in the hand furthest from you and turning his face in the opposite direction to release the nicotine-scented air from his lungs.

He ran his free hand through his hair, something that used to drive you crazy, but now standing in this moment with him you couldn’t be bothered to feed into the childhood crush your weak heart still harbored for him. “I-I care, I didn - it was never my intention to cut you off.” He said searching your eyes for any signs that you were listening to understand, and not just listening to rebuttal.

“We grew up together Carmen, if you didn’t want me in your life anymore you could’ve just told me.” You felt the telltale signs of tears welling up in your eyes, your eyes stinging as you fought hard to keep them from spilling.

“It wasn’t like that.” He scoffed his irritation becoming ever present, it wasn’t you he was irritated with, it was the fact that he knew exactly what he needed to tell you, wanted to tell you but he wouldn’t allow himself to. Carmy didn’t know how to express what was running through his mind right now without becoming a stuttering mess as his mind raced too fast for his mouth to keep up with.

You let out a sardonic laugh “That’s exactly what it felt like Carmen. I’m not gonna pretend to act like I know what your life is like right now, but the least you could do is shoot me a text letting me know you’re okay. Hell, it doesn’t even have to be consistent Carm, I jus-I care about you so much that it hurts.” You choked the words out not knowing how you could get him to understand how much his actions affected you.

“I mean, I know we went our separate ways, and I promise I’m not desperately trying to hang off you or some shit Carm, but yo-you just left me, and I was in a whole new place alone, and I felt like such a fucking fraud. And I needed you Carmen, I fucking needed you and…and the crazy part is you got every single one of my calls and texts, I fucking know you did.” You were ranting now and maybe it wasn’t fair to Carmy to drop this on him all at once, but what else were you supposed to do when you knew things would just resort to the way they’ve been once the holiday season was over and you were both back on your respective sides of the country.

“Listen, Baby, I’m sorry I kno-,”

“You promised Carmen,” The words slipped through your lips in a whisper so quiet it was almost lost to the wind. “You promised you would call me Carmen, and I know that may not have meant much to you, but it meant everything to me, you meant everything to me Carmen.” The wind had taken your voice and ran with it, Mother Nature doing her best to soothe the two broken souls before her.

Carmen closed his eyes tilting his head back to the sky, it was selfish, he knew it was the moment the thought crossed his mind, but those were the last words he wanted to ever hear from you. He took a second to try and collect the dozens of thoughts racing through his mind. Hoping to land on what he thought you wanted to hear, anything to soothe the indigestion starting to burn through his chest.

He came back to reality, eyes no longer looking in your direction, posture closed off signifying he was done with this conversation whether you agreed or not. He dropped the cigarette he had been holding the time wasted burning it down to the bud before taking a fresh one out of his pocket, cigarette lazily held between his lips as he brought his lighter up to the stick.

"He been treating you right?” He questioned head turning in your direction, but eyes never quite landing on your figure, as if he couldn’t stand to look at you.

And there it was exactly what you didn’t want to happen: Carmen's incessant need to avoid the tough conversations that he couldn’t help but make everyone else’s problem. You hastily patted your eyes to ensure any remaining tears didn’t make an appearance. “The fuck are you on about Carmen?” You snapped, having lost all desire to keep your emotions under control. No longer holding yourself back to appease whatever good nature was still between the two of you.

He gestured with his free hand back towards the house while sucking in a deep breath of tobacco and nicotine. “You and Mikey, I mea-it's just you two seemed pretty close earlier is all.” He chanced a glance in your direction, his soft blue eyes catching your stare before promptly turning away.

It took you a minute to digest what he was insinuating, a little offended that he deduced you to being Mikey’s bed warmer, all from whatever he thought he had been seeing this evening. If you were a violent person, you might’ve slapped him. You weren’t fucking Mikey and even if you were that was no longer Carmy’s business, he couldn’t just pick and choose the moments he wanted to make an appearance and provide input in your life.

You chuckled although the sound came out dry, no traces of humor to be found. You turned to Carmy and closed the distance between the two of you, snatching the cigarette from between his lips. You dropped it to the ground before stomping it out under the toe of your boot, “These things kill asshole.” You said before sauntering back towards the house, stopping a moment and turning to face him again, “And if I wanted to fuck your brother I don’t think I’d need your permission, Carmen.” With that, you entered the house leaving Carmy to stew with his thoughts and hopefully come to the conclusion that he made a bad situation even worse.

Carmy stayed outside a little while longer, he knew it was immature of him to avoid the conversation you wanted to have. He felt like a jackass for staring you in your face as he made the decision to disregard your feelings so easily. He kept telling himself he wasn’t a bad guy, a loop with those words playing in his brain as he did his best to convince himself. But what sort of fucking masochist breaks their own heart to escape the realities of a life he’ll never have. You were right, Carmen was an asshole but he knew he couldn’t continue to allow himself to want something as marvelous as love with you, he just wasn’t deserving. Not that he thought Mikey was any better of an option, but if it kept you in his life so be it.

You made your way through the house, looking for any space that you could compose yourself in, not wanting to ruin anyone else’s Christmas with your unpleasant mood. You did your best to quickly walk past the room containing the Fak Brothers and Steven. Any other time you would have sat comfortably next to Stevie as raptly intrigued as he was with the Fak family shenanigans. But in those potential instances, you also wouldn’t have been overthinking every decision you made regarding your friendship with Carmen and wondering why you were no longer good enough.

Continuing your journey through the house narrowly avoiding guests as you went, you quickly backtracked as you noticed a familiar back blankly facing the pantry. You felt bad for even letting the thought cross your mind, but you weren’t sure if Mikey was the right person to seek comfort in, especially after the accusation Carmy had just laid at your feet.

It was ridiculous actually to let something Carmy said have such an impact on you within such a short amount of type. It was even more ridiculous to allow his immaturity to overshadow the bond that had been carefully curated between you and Mikey prior to his youngest brother’s absence and now.

You let out a defeated sigh stepping slightly forward to wrap you arms around Mikey’s torso, cheek settling into the space between his shoulder blades, “Your little brother is a fucking idiot.” You murmured, voice slightly muffled by Mikey’s back.

A rough laugh escaped through Mikey’s lips as he patted your hand resting on his stomach, “Sure is when it comes to you ain’t he?” He questioned removing himself from your hold to lean his back against the pantry doorway. You followed suit standing opposite of him, the two of you now face to face.

You took in Mikey’s features, brows pinching together at the far away look in his eyes. It always amazed you that no matter if Mikey was physically in front of you, there was always a chance he was mentally somewhere else. That was the one similarity you could pick out between the two Berzatto boys, while Mikey’s charisma did a good job of hiding it, Carmen’s awkwardness put it on full display.

You reached out tugging at the sleeve of his shirt, “How are you doing Mikey?” You were genuinely curious, it's not like you were oblivious to Mikey’s many faults, the difference was you didn’t think he was a lost cause like everyone else. And as hard as it was to admit it to yourself you would never address the fact that you romanticized who Mikey was as a person. The Mikey you knew as a little girl was still the same Mikey you saw standing before you, and maybe he had a few more demons in his closet than you had been aware of back then, but it felt egregiously wrong to align your Mikey with the boogeyman everyone else made him out to be.

Mikey laughed swatting your hand away, “It's the most wonderful time of the fucking year Baby, how do you think I’m doing?” Mikey’s adversity in answering your question wasn’t lost upon you, but you knew Mikey wasn’t one to openly talk about how he was feeling. If avoidance was what you were gonna get, you knew there was no chance of this conversation going anywhere. You were 0 for 2 with the Berzatto brothers this evening it seemed.

You sighed, knocking your head against the wall you were leaning on, eyes shifting downwards as you prepared yourself for the topic you were about to bring up, “Can I ask you a question, Mikey? And can you be serious with me for one minute?” You pleaded needing someone to validate the way you had been feeling since your less-than-enlightening conversation with Carmy.

Mikey nodded eyebrows pinching together, a lick of concern tickling down his spine. Mikey knew you just as well as he knew his actual siblings. Albeit the age difference Mikey grew up right there with you, watching you grow into the person you were now, learning your mannerisms, understanding you as a person. You hadn’t asked for it but Mikey made it his mission to know you just as well as the younger Berzatto’s, if you were gonna be tossed into his eccentric family due to circumstance, he would do his best to treat you like a bonus little sister.

The slight nod of his head queuing you to reveal your query, “Do you ever feel, I don’t know, like inadequate?” You questioned scratching your nails against the material of your skirt, too consumed by the idea that Mikey would write your odd inquiry off. “Like sometimes it’s just exhausting to even fucking exist and-and there’s no rule book for this shit, but sometimes even your absolute best will never be good enough ya know? Like no matter how hard you try it doesn’t fucking matter because you’re just gonna die someday anyway?”

You chanced a glance at Mikey hoping he wouldn’t take your very real insecurities as a joke. The blank stare in his eyes greeted you by telling you a different story. Mikey was a hard person to read, and though you believed you had cracked the code to his complex soul, it was in moments like these that you knew you couldn’t be more wrong.

The sudden movement of Mikey’s hands reaching up to cup your face and jerk your head closer to him almost causes you to lose balance. “Why the fuck would you say that?” The tone in Mikey’s voice caused you to try and shrink into yourself. “This got anything to do with my shithead little brother?”

Your eyes cast downwards not prepared for the intensity in Mikey’s eyes, your lips parting to respond before abruptly being cut off by Mikey, “Fucking look at me when I’m talking to you, Baby. What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” His hands redirected your gaze to his with a more gentle approach.

You shrugged your shoulders, feeling stupid for even talking like this in front of Mikey, “I’m not sure, to be honest. I talked to Carmy, and it went as well as you would guess. And I just, I don’t know, I guess I just got lost in my head. And work has been so stressful lately, I’m even considering moving back here.” You shook your head from his grip, “It's just nonsense, don’t worry about me. I think seeing Carmy after so long just made me spiral.” You offered him a small smile hoping it was as reassuring as you thought it was.

Mikey pulled you into a hug chin resting atop your head. The scene was oddly reminiscent of the hug you shared hours ago on the porch. Mikey’s hugs were like magic, a bear hug so comforting and warm, his arms made you feel safe, and protected. You felt a little selfish for constantly dumping your problems on Mikey, but he had become your closest confidant, you wish the same could be said about you from Mikey’s point of view, but you were already lucky enough that he shared what little nuggets of the inner working of his life that he did with you.

Mikey pulled back hands settling on your shoulders to get a good look at you, “Don’t let me hear you say shit like that again alright Baby?” You nodded the corner of your lips curving slightly as Mikey played the role of big brother and began scolding you. “You’re a great fucking girl alright, and don’t even worry about Carmy, you’ve got a heart of fucking gold. You’re like that motherfucker with the gold touch alright, and I need you Baby okay? I need you and that means something right, you’re fucking adequate these fuckers in this house wish they were you.”

You laughed the melodic sound filling the space between the two of you, “King Midas.”

Mikey’s hands dropped from their position on your shoulders frowning at you, “Who the fuck is that?”

“The motherfucker with the gold touch,” You joked.

“Alright, you fucking smart ass.” Mikey reached up to flick your nose, a small gesture carried on from childhood.

The two of you stood in the other’s presence for what felt like forever, no words needing to be passed between you. You and Mikey enjoy being in each other's company, using the pantry as a place of solace before returning to reality. The sound of Donna’s voice yelling about saltines and Carmy’s responding yell breaks the peaceful moment between you both. You glanced in the pantry spotting the saltines Carmy would be coming to acquire a small sigh leaving your lips. If Carmy was going to avoid a much-needed conversation, you would just avoid him. Sure it was petty but you wanted him to somehow get a taste of the suffering his lack of effort caused you.

“Well, this has been fun, but I should make myself scarce before Carmen accuses me of fucking you in the pantry of your family home.” You shot Mikey a sarcastic smile preparing to find some other hole to hide in before family dinner commenced.

“My little brother is a fucking idiot,” Mikey mumbled moving out of the way to allow you to pass by. You laughed glad that someone agreed with astute observation skills. Deciding to check on Tiff you made your way to the stairs before stopping at the landing.

“Hey.” You turned back to Mikey catching his attention for a brief moment, if the raise of his eyebrows was any conformation. “I love you brother bear.” You shot him a wink then proceeded to continue your previously decided journey.

Mikey watched your figure disappear up the stairs, a solemn smile resting on his lips. The idea that you had at one point harbored such unnerving thoughts scared him. But what scared him, even more, was he knew exactly what you were talking about

a/n: so i’m a liar : )

i fully intended for this to be the last chapter of the christmas episode but my creative juices said no. alas here is chapter 2, but mark my words the next chapter will be the end of the christmas arc because baby i’m exhausted. please shower me with feedback (constructive criticism), it really helps feed my creativity. and while i would love likes/comments/reblogs please interact with my work however you feel comfortable, my ask box is always open 💜

also also this might be a little self-indulgent idk, i have the “existing is exhausting” convo like every weak : (

i just tagged whoever commented on chapter 1, so if you didn’t want to be on the tag list sorry! but if you would like to be tagged in the next update please let me know!!

strikethrough means i was unable to tag you : (

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto angst #michael berzatto x reader #the bear fic #all i ever knew only you ₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊#[aiekoy] 2 #fem reader #the bear x reader

1K notes · View notes

room-surprise · 2 months

Text

Analysis of Laios and how he hugs/interacts with people, pre and post-manga.

Reading body language in real life is basically pseudo-science most of the time, however, these aren't candid photographs of real people I'm analyzing, they are drawings purposefully made by Ryoko Kui to tell us something about Laios and his relationships with other characters.

These illustrations are designed on purpose to communicate information. So what do I think they say?

Here's the illustration of how things are at the start of the manga:

NAMARI AND CHILCHUCK

They're both rough towards Laios, expressing displeasure with him, using violent physical touch to get his attention or punish him for something.

TOSHIRO

His reaction to Laios is totally passive. He isn't turned towards Laios, but he isn't turning away either. He's staring up into space with a look of discomfort, suggesting he wishes Laios would leave him alone... But that he is too polite to openly reject him.

We know this is partially a cultural issue: because Toshiro is Japanese, he considers it catastrophically rude to tell someone "no" in a blunt way. He is trying to communicate his discomfort and disinterest to Laios, but Laios isn't understanding Toshiro's signals.

Meanwhile, Laios is turning his whole body towards Toshiro, his eyes are wide open, he's smiling. He's very eager to interact, in a way that he isn't with any other character on this page except Falin.

MARCILLE

They are having a neutral interaction. Neither of them seems excited or interested in each other, but they are talking seriously. Marcille is gesturing at Laios in a way that seems scolding, they are standing at a polite distance, and Laios is standing at his full height, perhaps even leaning/straining away from Marcille slightly. There is a physical object (Marcille's staff) acting as a barrier, and it's physically pushing Laios away from her.

But it is worth noting that he has his hand on the staff, suggesting that he's not letting himself be pushed away any further, that he's having a reciprocal interaction with Marcille, not a passive one where he just stands there and gets lectured. Laios is participating and engaged.

FALIN AND SENSHI

The only people having unambiguously positive interactions with Laios on this page, which makes sense since they are the two people who are the most friendly towards him at the start of the manga.

Laios and Falin are touching hands, smiling and their bodies are turned towards each other, showing enthusiasm and a mutual interest. This is less intense than the hug in the post-manga illustrations, which maybe suggests that there's something distant and unresolved between them here, like resentment and guilt.

Laios and Senshi are closer to each other than Laios and Marcille. Laios is sitting or crouched down to get closer to Senshi's height, and they are both smiling and turned towards each other. Senshi may even be laughing!

Here's the "post-manga" image...

What a huge difference!

All of these interactions are basically positive, so I'll just go left to right, top to bottom. Also for some of these, we can't see Laios' friends full reactions, so I'll focus on what we can see, and how Laios is behaving.

SENSHI

They share a gentle hug. They both have their arms wrapped around each other, so the desire to touch is mutual. Laios bends to reach Senshi, and has a calm, content smile on his face while they hug. Laios rests his head on top of Senshi's head, showing trust and intimacy and a desire to be physically even closer to Senshi than just hugging. Senshi isn't pulling away, so I think that's a good indicator that he doesn't mind it, and possibly even likes it!

Which is a big change from how he felt violated by Laios touching his chest earlier in the manga, even though Laios was trying to heal him... I think Senshi isn't someone that easily lets others touch him, so this is a big improvement.

CHILCHUCK

The size difference makes this hug awkward, but that's not the only reason! Laios has both hands on Chilchuck and he is bending down in order to reach him, suggesting that he wants to embrace his friend, however Chilchuck is not straining to reach Laios, and he is only using one hand to touch him, suggesting that Chilchuck doesn't want to embrace too closely. Chilchuck is willing to allow a hug, and he is willing to touch Laios back, but he doesn't want it as much as Laios does.

I think Laios is aware of this, because he isn't trying to push the hug to a higher level of intensity. He's holding back to the level he thinks Chilchuck is comfortable with.

MARCILLE

They share a happy, but not overly intimate hug. Their chests and bodies are pressed together, but they are turning their heads away from each other.

Laios' hands are resting side by side on Marcille's back, and it seems like she is hugging him back in a similarly loose way. His arms are not overlapping, and they aren't squeezing or grabbing each other, just holding on lightly while pressing their chests together.

TOSHIRO

What a fascinating set of drawings!

I'm going to assume that the color drawing is what happens first, and the black and white line drawing is what happens afterwards, solely because if the black and white drawing is meant to just be Laios' fantasy of hugging Toshiro, then surely he would imagine Toshiro hugging him back enthusiastically, and not a more passive reaction like Kui drew.

Kui wrote a note here to remind readers that hugging is not considered normal in "the East", where Toshiro is from, to give context to why the character seems so uncomfortable.

Laios is approaching Toshiro at high speed, arms open and reaching for Toshiro, eyes wide, with a happy expression. He clearly wants to wrap Toshiro up in a big, enthusiastic hug.

Toshiro is sweating with discomfort, and he has a hand pressed against Laios' chest, attempting to stop him… However, the arm is not extended and his elbow is bent at an acute angle, and it looks as if no force is being applied. Toshiro perhaps feels a need to offer a token protest, but he isn't really trying to stop Laios.

In the black and white hug drawing, Laios has both arms wrapped tight around Toshiro, much tighter than Senshi, Chilchuck or Marcille, and he's pressing their bodies together and resting his head on Toshiro's shoulder. He's turning his face towards Toshiro's neck, and smiling serenely.

Toshiro's body is stiff, he's sweating, and his arm is held at a rigid 90 degree angle… But he isn't using it to push Laios away, just holding it uselessly at his side. Perhaps he is half-way towards returning the hug, thinking about lifting his arm a little higher and resting his hand on Laios' back, but he isn't sure if he wants to do that yet.

Toshiro is bending his body towards Laios, and allowing himself to be pressed against the other man. He's staring out into space with a neutral expression that suggests either discomfort or surprise. I think we're meant to understand that he has given up fighting against the foreign, offensive hug, realizing that it isn't offensive for Laios, and therefore it might be okay to allow it...and it might actually be more offensive if he rejected the hug.

FALIN

Falin has thrown herself at Laios with considerable force, and Laios has his arms overlapping across Falin's back. They are both squeezing each other tightly with their arms, and even Laios' hands are gripping Falin tightly. There is an overjoyed look on Laios' face, and I think this embrace shows how Laios has healed through the course of the story.

KABRU

Since Kabru is one of Laios' newest friends, it makes sense that the hug would be the least intimate.

The two of them have a complicated relationship in the manga, but the complete world bible shows that Laios has finally accepted that Kabru is genuinely his friend and not just trying to use or manipulate him. He's made an effort in the post-canon to reach out and try to be Kabru's friend in return, and Kabru has forgiven Laios for not listening to him in the past.

Kabru is turning his body away from Laios, which puts his shoulder towards Laios' shoulder at a perpendicular angle, forcing distance between them. Laios is fully facing Kabru, and has one arm behind his back, a hand resting on Kabru's shoulder, and another hand resting on his chest. The hand on the chest is attached to an arm that is bent at an obtuse angle, holding Kabru at a distance, with no indication that he is trying to pull Kabru in. Both hands are relaxed, like in the Marcille hug, indicating that Laios' grasp is loose.

This arm position is pretty unusual for an embrace. It allows Laios to keep Kabru at a distance where he can see him, and control where he moves, and how close he's able to get to Laios… and Kabru isn't returning the hug in any way, instead allowing himself to be touched and held in place.

Their bodies aren't pressed together, and Kabru's arm is down at his side, neither encouraging Laios nor pushing him away.

Laios has a big smile on his face, and he looks enthusiastic. Kabru on the other hand has a calm smile. In my opinion his expression is less enthusiastic than Marcille's.

I think Laios can't tell how Kabru feels about the hug, and so he's holding himself back. He's not blinded by emotion like he is with Toshiro, so he's not flinging himself at Kabru… And because Kabru is such a new friend, Laios is also probably hesitant to get too close to him.

There may also be some lingering trust issues, if Laios still isn't completely certain if Kabru genuinely likes him or not. Laios has often had trouble telling if people really like him, or if they are just being polite (Toshiro), or using him (former party members), so it makes sense that it would take awhile for him and Kabru to become truly comfortable with each other..

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #kabru #laios touden #falin touden #marcille donato #senshi of izganda #chilchuck tims #toshiro nakamoto #shuro dungeon meshi #theories #my stuff

458 notes · View notes

triassictriserratops · 12 days

Note

Would you be able to elaborate on your statement about the pseudo sexual imagery of the Everlark pearl? I hadn’t really considered the pearl from that angle before and would love to hear your thoughts on it.

In response to this post So firstly, this in NO WAY takes away from the other symbolism present in the pearl. This is in ADDITION to, NOT instead of. In fact, lemme go into it all from my perspective, although I know MANY creators have expressed a lot of this much more eloquently than I will! PEARLS AS THEY RELATE TO THE CAPITOL

i always viewed the presence of the pearls on Katniss' capitol wedding dress as twofold. Firstly, it speaks of the opulence and extreme perceived wealth of the Capitol. To have a dress adorned with chains of pearls - what a symbol of luxury! I also viewed them as binding/chains. A representation of the "freedom" of the victors. The trappings of their wealth while living under the thumb of the Capitol. Their chains aren't metal, they're beautiful and delicate but still present and just as deadly. Like a gentle hand on their throats.

PEARLS AS THEY RELATE TO PEETA In direct contrast to the Capitol pearls, the pearl Peeta gives Katniss is singular. It isn't purchased, it is found. It is found in a space where Peeta has nothing else to give to Katniss, other than his life. Instead of a chain or a burden it is meant as his symbol of freedom to her, in conjunction with the locket - "I give you fully back to your family. To the people who love and need you. I let you go, but this, here is something to remember me by." (And I also love how it's representative of Peeta's ability to find pieces of beauty in the most horrific of circumstances.) KATNISS' MENTAL CONNECTION OF PEETA AND THE PEARL We also know that, during Peeta's capture, Katniss connects this pearl heavily with Peeta's life and her need to protect it. "Tomorrow morning, I'm going to agree to be the Mockingjay." I tell her. "Because you want to or because you feel forced into it?" she asks. I laugh a little. "Both, I guess. No. I want to. I have to, if it will help the rebels defeat Snow." I squeeze the pearl more tightly in my fist. "It's just...Peeta. I'm afraid if we do win, the rebels will execute him as a traitor." I slip the pearl from the drawer and spend a second sleepless night clutching it in my hand, replaying Peeta's words in my head. "Ask yourself, do you really trust the people you're working with?" I knot the pearl into the corner of the parachute, bury it deep in the recesses of the bag, as if it's Peeta's life and no one can take it away as long as I guard it. Then, later, when Peeta returns and is found to be hijacked, his essence and personhood taken from him and from HER - the Pearl becomes a symbol of the boy she lost and everything he isn't anymore. Then she finds the pearl Peeta gave me. "Is this-?" "Yeah," I say. "Made it through somehow." I don't want to talk about Peeta. One of the best things about training is, it keeps me from thinking of him. "Haymitch says he's getting better," she says. "Maybe. But he's changed," I say. I consider saying a final good-bye to Peeta, decide it would only be bad for both of us. But I do slip the pearl into the pocket of my uniform. A token of the boy with the bread. And, finally, when in the Capitol, in the last mention of the pearl, we connect it with his literal LIFE in Katniss' HANDS. (And Peeta's unwillingness to risk Katniss' life even for his freedom.) "Should we free his hands?" asks Leeg 1. "No!" Peeta growls at her, drawing his cuffs in close to his body. "No," I echo. "But I want the key." Jackson passes it over without a word. I slip it into my pants pocket, where it clicks against the pearl."

And, finally, here we go: THE PEARL AS IT RELATES TO KATNISS' SEXUAL AWAKENING It is no coincidence, to me, that the pearl is gifted from Peeta to Katniss following the events of the kiss on the beach. Katniss has now admitted to herself that Peeta holds sexual currency with her. Her body is reactive to his own and feeds a hunger in her, a flame. The giving and acceptance of the pearl can be viewed as the "tender" of that sexual currency. Katniss ALSO thinks of the pearl as it relates to Peeta in the ways that Peeta was able to make her PHYSICALLY feel. She connects it with both what she felt with him that night on the beach, and what she HOPES to feel with him upon his return. (And what she misses when he is "lost" to her.) I feel around for the parachute and slide my fingers inside until they close around the pearl. I sit back on my bed cross-legged and find myself rubbing the smooth iridescent surface of the pearl back and forth against my lips. For some reason, it's soothing. A cool kiss from the giver himself. I take the pearl from where it lives in my pocket and try to remember the boy with the bread, the strong arms that warded off nightmares on the train, the kisses in the arena. To make myself put a name to the thing I've lost. But what's the use? It's gone. He's gone. Whatever existed between us is gone.

all I'm saying is that Peeta would literally pass out if he ever hears about how she basically kept rubbing one out in 13 to thoughts of him. (Because, let's be real. That's what the symbolism of the pearl was.) Rolling the pearl between her fingers? Kissing it to her lips? COME ON. It's so on the nose. (Or clit in this case.) 🦪😏

#peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #everlark #the hunger games #thg series #thg #hunger games headcanon #thg headcanons #the hunger games headcanon #thg analysis #the hunger games analysis #hunger games analysis #symbolism of the pearl

153 notes · View notes

mochinomnoms · 2 months

Note

What would happen if both Yuu and Riddle “protect” eachother from their pseudo siblings potencial eel mate? Because we already see Riddle mother hening Yuu so if Yuu ever explicitly states how uncomfortable they feel around Jade I’m pretty sure Riddle would not hesitate helping Yuu getting out of situations with Jade or like being the third wheel in their project group (with Jade and Yev). And I feel that Yuu would feel the same if Riddle feels a similar way to Floyd cause personally if someone was making my presh baby sibling uncomfortable (or annoying them) I would not hesitate to put the fear of god into them/gremlin my way to cockblocking them.

But then again Jade and Floyd seem like they already made up their minds that Yuu/Riddle are already their mate, but how far will they go to go against their shrimp/goldfish in law?

I just feel like this has hijink potencial, like Jade would try to talk to Yuu and Riddle pops out of no where or Floyd tries to take Riddle away then Yuu comes sliding out of no where grabs Riddle then runs away (I personally headcannon that out of the sibling relationship that Yuu is just more of a gremlin than Riddle always having a bit of a clown flair to their actions whether it’s their intention or not (totally not projecting) while Riddle is like that reasonable older sibling where antics just happen around them)

Sorry for the long post this has just been rotting in my brain for a while. -🧀anon

BRO YES

I was intending on writing these sorts of interactions between them, but since I added the titles the flow of the story has changed a bit so I'm not sure if it will fit into the main fic.

But yes, once it's been established with the two that both of the twins are interested in them, and that they want to avoid them at all costs (no emotional health with these two lads), they are making a game plan.

Riddle is very prim and proper, so he's appalled at the thoughts Jade is having about Yuu (nevermind that these sorts of things are pretty normal for most people) and going out of his way to put space between the two. Jade comes up to whisper in their ear? Riddle is loudly asking, “Oh Jade, did you have something to say? Why don't you share it with me and Yev?” Lunchtime has been monopolized by Riddle and the rest of Heartslabyul, though some of the random students are confused as to why Riddle has insisted that they sit with Ramshackle.

Yuu on the other hand take it upon themselves to interrupt Floyd mid-chase with Riddle and asking him questions about Jade. Things they know he'll report back to Jade, but subtle enough that you couldn't take them at face value. “Hey Floyd! Question: what sort of things does Jade like? No reason, I'm just making sure I have gifts for your guys' birthday!” If Riddle is in at club practice? You're there and “talking” his ear off, interrupting Floyd's quips until he gets so frustrated that he leaves.

If they try to give either one of you gifts? “Oh, thank you, I think Riddle/Yuu will like this! I'll share it with him/them!”

Study dates? “Oh, let me join you too! Let's make it a group actually, I'll bring my dorm members.”

It becomes such a reoccurring thing, seeing Yuu and Riddle together, that rumors start going around that the two are actually dating. The twins are a mix of devastated, annoyed, and thrilled at the hilarity of it all.

Shrimpy doesn't want Floyd to mess with his Goldfiishie? Fine, let's have some fun, you said you wanted to go to the store? Let's go, and oh look there's Jade as well! Oh, and look at the time, Floyd has to go work his shift at the lounge (since when has he cared), have fun with your date with Jade! :D

Riddle is very protective of Jade's Pearl? That's fine, Yuu can stay with Yev then while he and Riddle go to the gardens to get some ingredients. And if Jade happens to disappear, Floyd in his place, well then it's just a coincidence! Jade just remembered that they also needed to buy some herbs from Sam's, he didn't mean to leave Riddle. :''''(

Morays may be cowards, but they're also opportunistic predators. They'll find ways to get around Riddle and Yuu's shenanigans. After all, if the two reeeally didn't feel the same way as them, they surely they would've said something to their respective eel. Maybe they like the attention~

#mochi asks #twst #twisted wonderland #jade leech #floyd leech #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #jade leech x reader #floyd x riddle #ptm #🧀 anon

205 notes · View notes

bowtiepastabitch · 3 months

Text

Deeply Transgender and Vividly Pornographic: a deep dive into what makes a fic queer

This is a response to the wonderful @ineffabildaddy making this post, which it was originally going to just be a reblog to but once I started approaching a thousand words it was a bit unwieldy so we're just going all the way. If second base is reading their fics and third base is actually talking to your mutuals, I have no clue what this is.

Here's the prompt text that started it all:

Alright, well I am nothing if not a scientist (narrator voice: they were, in fact, a humanities major), so I spent several hours of my weekend putting this together because I'm a burnt out academic and this is the enrichment in my enclosure. Readers, this is going to contain experpts of some very spicy stuff, so stop here if you're not interested. Me bringing porn? To your tumblr dash? It's more likely than you think.

All fics and such referenced will be linked at the bottom of the page.

~~~

Heteronormativity and cisnormativity, while unfortunately the dominant norm for mainstream pornography, make little appearance within the fandom writing spaces I myself spend time in. That's not to say I haven't read my fair shair of painfully straight smut in my lifetime, but simply that I have taste and am lucky to be neck deep in a fandom with very little of it. Nonetheless, as a card-carrying queer and writer myself, I consider myself quite familiar with the distinctive traits and patterns of queer and cishet pornographic writing. Beyond merely a focus on non-male pleasure or the subtle presence of queer or trans characters, the characterization of queer fanfiction is distinct and has entirely different mannerisms in dealing with conceptions of the body and pleasure. I'll primarily be citing Ineffabildaddy's work, for the sake of a focused analysis, who I will henceforth be referring to as Sam for the sake of pseudo-academic flow.

There are certain linguistic patterns that tend to distinguish heterosexual and heteronormative depictions of sex from queer ones. For instance, "cunt" is utilized sparingly within heteronormative contexts for its vulgarity and added obscenity, whilst queer writers use it pretty universally and without the same subtext. Throughout his writing, Sam works with this queer-coded vocabulary pretty consistently. In "Strawberry Scripture" (F/M), he describes how "Crowley's cunt... was damn-near swollen" and how Aziraphale has to resist "Bury[ing] his face in it immediately." No cis-het man has ever thought about eating pussy that way, and if you find one I'll eat my fucking hat. Likewise, vocabulary for the phallic tends to veer in the direction of "cock" over anything else. Interestingly, this creates a set of contrasting pairings. Heteronormative slang, from my obvervation, is more likely to use 'dick' and 'pussy', and, especially in conjunction, it creates a very distinctive mouthfeel that separates the two and poses them as opposites. 'Pussy', in particular, has a much more feminized feel when juxtaposed against 'dick', favoring much softer consonants and the english diminutive 'y' ending. 'Cock' and 'cunt', in comparison, have a very similar sound and feeling to them, distancing itself from hetero-cis-normative gender dualism of the language. There is, of course, plenty of nuance to this and the use of a variety of language in subverting cisnormative ideas about the sexed body as well, with phrases like 'boypussy' and 'girldick' being rather essential to the way many trans people describe their own bodies. "Fandom's Pornagraphic Subset," (yes I'm stealing sources from my research paper on monsterfucking, suck my dick) an article published in 2021 by Silja Kukka, describes how the "fleshy, hyperbolic descriptions of sex" that characterize this kind of writing are essential to what she dubs the "[creation of] a new genderqueer place outside of the gender dichotomy"(57). If you read enough smut, you know exactly what this is talking about. For example, in "Despite Knowing Better,"(F/M) we get vivid imagery to describe the way "streaks of her spit oozed from her mouth even as Aziraphale fucked it"(Ch5) and of "her walls quivering and clenching around him."(Ch3) This level of graphic sexual depiction goes beyond what would be considered 'tasteful' or 'sexy' in a heteronormative concept of pornography.

In terms of tropes, let's do a deep dive into "Strawberry Scripture"(F/M) to find what makes it queer beyond it's apparently straight pairing. To preface, this fic involves both foodplay and monsterfucking, but we're only gonna analyze one. The inherent queerness of monsterfucking is actually something I've written an entire academic paper on, so I suppose I'll start there. There's something very queer and often very trans about subverting the standard playbook of sexual acts, and while kink itself can easily be heterosexual, most monsterfucking falls far outside that category no matter what genital configuration those involved have. Monsterfucking tends to reject the phallocentrism of heteronormativity and mainstream kink by subverting the concept of the human body itself, giving inhuman and monstrous qualities to characters usually for sex appeal or general kinky shenanigans. While there's an argument to be made for heteronormativity still being able to creep into certain spaces, that certainly isn't true for this fic. There's something intrinsically transgressive about creating an erogenous zone out of a feature that would largely be considered horror or 'gross' in any other form of media, which is exactly what Sam does here as he describes the "cool, satiny sensation that the plates of her scales against his tip engendered." The scales are not merely called apon for their invocation of the unusual but to give them an eroticism in and of themselves, with Crowley reaching orgasm through their stimulation. We also slide gently into Monsterfucker territory in "Close (well you couldn't get much closer)" (M/M), where an argument could be made that the most trans-coded element isn't even Crowley's T-dick but instead the presence of a magic angel dildo. (sentences I never thought I'd fucking say but here we are.) There's something deeply transgender about the deconstruction of genital purpose in sex that recontextualizes the gendered body's role in pleasure. It falls into the same semiotic revolution and reclaiming of the body as the changes in language used by trans folks to rename and reidentify the literal physicality of the body by ones own standards (ie T-dick).

Another major trademark in departing from heteronormatized porn is the shift in narrative focus away from penetrative sex. That is, even in paragraphs where the main sex event is penetration, it rarely takes up even half the prose. The majority of narration is focused on surrounding or tangential actions: "the flowing movement of ... hips was sedate and wanton and lusciously provocative,"(1) "watching the muscles which resided there tense and relax alternately with pleasure,"(2) "his tongue stole past his teeth and slid over them,"(3) and "he whispered, his voice aching and curling and stretching for her"(4); all excerpts pulled from moments in which penetration is taking place, yet the concentration is anywhere but. Likewise, the act of penetration itself only takes up a small portion of physical sex acts in the grander scheme of Sam's writing. Instead, we as readers are presented with a vast spread of cock-sucking, pussy-eating, fingering, teasing, frottage, kissing, and more. Contrast this with the cis-hetero norm, where penetrative sex is the endgoal, and any other action is shucked aside to play second fiddle as mere foreplay. It's the reason virginity as a concept is directly tied to the mystical hymen and one's experience with penetration; a straight girl can suck dick a thousand times and still consider herself a virgin. As such, in a piece of pornographic writing where I have significant trouble finding lines to pull specifically and exclusively describing penetration (seriously, try it out yourself), the heterosexual influence is negligible. And yes, I'm talking about all of them. I had to restructure an entire argument that focused on comparing lines from different works because it was so difficult to find them.

So, in conclusion, Sam, love, there is not an ounce of heteronormativity in even the "straightest" of your writing. Congratulations.

Links, in order of reference:

Strawberry Scripture (3)

Fandom's Pornographic Subset, article by Silja Kukka and a great read

Despite Knowing Better... (4)

Close (you couldn't be much closer)

Many Different Ways to Eat an Oyster (1)

I'm Beginning to See the Light (2)

Author's notes, and then I promise I'll leave y'all alone: Hi! This started as a short analysis but quickly became a three(?)(maybe more?) hour labor of love analyzing the things I love most about both Sam's writing and the writing in this community as a whole. Please please please ask me questions, I'm an autistic little bitch and I like knowing things. My ask box? Open. Comments? Open. Reblogs? Open. If you've read this far, I fucking love you and I am kissing you on the mouth right now. Don't worry, my gender is just queer so it's gay no matter what. <3<3<3

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #ineffable husbands #good omens fandom #nerd shit #why do any of you follow me #gomens

205 notes · View notes

annabelle--cane · 2 months

Text

I keep forgetting to talk about this week's case because [gestures at episode] but, like a lot of other cases so far, it really feels like it is pulling directly from a few tma statements

mag 150 cul-de-sac: lonely statement about a man who gets divorced and loses all his social connections and eventually gets lost in an endless, monotonous, empty suburbia

mag 187 checking out: spiral statement where a lost woman in a hotel (bit of a liminal space, in a way) who keeps trying to find her son and leave and every time she gets directions from a friendly looking female staff member she just gets more lost

mag 156 reflection: pseudo extinction/flesh statement about a guy who explores an abandoned fairground and accidentally goes through a mirror-portal in a fun house and finds himself in an alternate version of that fairground populated by strange thin starving people who all try to eat him when they notice he's there, and he can only escape by throwing himself bodily through a different fun house mirror, injuring himself badly

#tmagp #tmagp spoilers #marina marvels at life

161 notes · View notes

aris-ink · 9 months

Note

OMGGGGGGG I NEED PT 2 PLS 🙏🏼 ID DO ANYTHING TO SEE WHAT HAPPENS AFTER THE PARENTS GO TO DINNER RESERVATIONS 😏 ily 💜

ily more 😚

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: forbidden romance, step!siblings au

warnings: mentions of manipulation, pseudo incest, mentions of ridiculous porn tropes 🤷‍♀️, jk is nasty I'm sorry 💀, daddy kink, degradation, praise, dirty talk, creampie

This wasn't exactly how Jungkook had planned to spend the evening, but why waste such a precious opportunity thrown his way? The moment the lock turned, he made his way to the living room; ready to grab you, throw you over his shoulder and take you to bed. However, he found himself frozen in the doorway, throat dry and heart skipping a beat.

His footsteps were slow, quiet enough not to catch your attention. He knelt down on the carpet right behind you, the heat of his hands on your waist making you jump.

"Jungkook!" you breathed, voice coming out muffled. "Don't do that."

He hummed, rubbing your sides softly in an attempt to apologize.

"Sorry, baby. Did you lose something?"

He could hear you sigh, his eyes tracing the curve of your spine.

"My-" a hitch of breath interrupted your reply.

Like a cute, little kitten, you stiffened up, hairs rising on your arms when you felt his hand sneak under your skirt. Waiting. Assessing the threat. Jungkook smirked, spreading his fingers over your asscheek to grope it lewdly.

"-earrings," you moaned, "Jungkook-"

His dick, already hard and twitching in his jeans, pressed into your panty clad core.

"Yes, baby?" He rubbed your ass, the smooth, familiar motions both soothing and electrifying. "You're not stuck there, are you?"

You could feel a flush spreading through your neck, eyes darting around the dark space. It was impossible to push yourself up and get out from under the couch as long as he was blocking your way, his hips firm as a wall against you.

"No," you swallowed, "if you just move and let me-"

Riiip.

You gasped, cold air immediately hitting your exposed heat. You didn't need to look; you felt his eyes on you, the weight of his gaze touching vulnerable places it never should have seen. Your heart raced beneath your ribs. You knew you were alone in the house, but this was...

Your train of thought disappeared, nothing but a ghost ship in the brief fog of common sense. It was a dark, clear night again, stars floating all around you when you felt his fingertips come into direct contact with your hole to spread it open. He could see the way the muscles clenched around nothing, desperate to be stuffed.

"Jungkook... " You managed nervously, a flicker of sails in the wind.

"Come on," he murmured, entranced by the pretty sight, the slick flowing out, making your cunt glisten. The hand on your asscheek tightened its grip on it, massaging the flesh. "I've always wanted to try this. Please, baby, please?"

You whined, half in stubborn disbelief, half lost in the burning heat already building up in your abdomen, consuming you from the inside like fire.

"You're such a pervert."

Jungkook didn't dare take his eyes off you, watching your cunt contract, releasing more slick, wetting the tips of his fingers.

"Yeah?" He asked raspily, running his tongue along his piercing. "I don't see your pussy complaining."

You said nothing, inhaling shakily. Words just wouldn't come. Jungkook's hand slid off your ass, palming the erection straining against his zipper, though it brought him little relief. He started unzipping his fly instead, and you wondered if he was really going to do this; reenact some ridiculous porn he watched while he fantasized about you, way before any of this began. After yesterday, it shouldn't really be surprising. But your nerves were still frayed, the position unfamiliar, leaving you more vulnerable, making your cunt throb harder. It seemed like the moment Jungkook finally got you, all he wanted was to spend the rest of his life reminding you that you were his, body and soul.

He let out a deep sigh the moment his cock finally sprang free from its confines.

"What's it gonna be, baby?" He asked, leaning over you. He pressed a kiss into your back, and the leaking tip of his shaft into your cunt. "Do you want me to fuck you or not?"

You felt a shiver run down your spine, despite of the heat of his chest against it. Your body spoke his language, even if your mouth couldn't, soaking his fat cock more at the first bump against your clit. You couldn't hold back the moan that slipped past your lips, leaving them open. A shaky exhale fled Jungkook in return, warming your spine and your tummy further.

"I need words, sweetheart."

You tried to focus, fingers digging into the soft carpet.

"Please," you whispered.

Jungkook shut his eyes, aiming the head of his stiff cock at your small hole. He pressed into it slowly, feeling and hearing it stretch as he pushed forward, pulsing around him.

"Please what?"

He rocked in and out of you, sinking in deeper with each thrust forward, biting into his lip to stay quiet. You whined from under the couch, eyes already rolling back.

"Please, daddy."

Jungkook bottomed out with a shudder, hands grasping your hips and back straightening so he could start thrusting into you steadily. He tried to stifle a groan, eyes fighting to stay open, like he was drunk. Drunk on the way you felt, on the way you moaned from underneath the couch. On how dirty it was, how he couldn't even see your face, like he was using a fleshlight rather than fucking you. The thrill that it sent through him was even dirtier.

"Good girl," he praised breathily, slowing for a moment.

He pulled almost all the way out, then, carefully, proceeded to hump you with just the drooling tip of his dick. You whimpered, hips jerking when he suddenly pressed a finger into your clit, rubbing it in lazy circles.

"That's it, baby," he whispered, "cream my cock. I know how much you like it."

He felt your pussy tighten, felt it drip around him. Usually, Jungkook didn't have as much freedom as he wanted to be with you, to touch you. To see how many times you could come, in how many ways; to make you cry. And what was stopping him tonight?

He frowned, tongue poking out in concentration, a drop of sweat rolling down his temple. His balls clenched, and so did his jaw, a low moan flowing out.

"Fucck. Such a good, pretty slut, all fucking mine. Yeah."

Of course he knew you were going to come; he could tell, and of course he's been waiting, holding back, all for this moment. Just to dig his fingers into your hips, shove the rest of his cock into your poor, unsuspecting cunt and blow his load, groaning and bringing new galaxies to life behind your eyes. He remained still, twitching as you spasmed around him, sweet, little sounds leaving your mouth.

One hand grabbing onto the couch, he collapsed forward, feeling his own cum trickling down from where you were connected, like your little hole couldn't hold all of it, even with his cock still buried deep inside you.

His other hand slid down your thigh.

"Are you okay?"

Your mewl made him chuckle, urged him to gently disconnect himself from you and help you out from under the couch. He kissed and rubbed your knees and elbows, sore from being pressed into the floor, for once no longer a slave to the incessant ticking of the clock. No one else was going to be home tonight. At all. Your parents were unfortunately stuck dealing with a flat tire, somewhere in the middle of nowhere.

They just didn't know it yet, and neither did you. But life was just so unpredictable, wasn't it?

💌 taglist: @baalsgurl1913 @kooktrash @era-genius @sweetempathprunetree @bucketofhiros @iceprincessviviane @silv3rswirls @httpsbts @osakis-gf @chimmisbae

#lmaaoo #yandere bts #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts smut #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts reactions #bts yandere

765 notes · View notes