Tumgik
#what does this mean for people's perception of them?
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Comfort Zone
Matt Sturniolo x Reader
masterlist (series)
Preview: Y/n starts the new semester at school. She happens to have the same exact schedule as one guy, Matt Sturniolo. He's known to be a 'bad boy.' Constantly ditching, tattoos, and not giving most people the time of day....but will that apply to you?
WARNINGS: 18+, smut, alcohol, parental abuse/neglect, overall mature themes, and more. (This is made for all parts)
A/N: Reblogs, likes, comments, and interactions are all VERY appreciated!!!
Comment to be added to the taglist!!
CHAPTER 5: Genie In A Bottle
Walking into school felt like being naked on a stage. Matt and I walked to our class with whispers clouding around us like smoke in a fire, suffocating me. I attempted to keep my composure, but overhearing everything made my feet stutter on the ground at an uneven pace. 
“--she must give really good head or something.” 
“Do you think she lost her virginity to him?” 
“She’s not even that pretty. I mean, look at her!” 
Every word was a devastation. I liked being looked over, no one analyzing my every move as if they knew me. Because, they didn’t. Now, that didn’t matter. Everyone was already forming their own perception of me–ones far from the truth. 
“Don’t listen to them, okay?” Matt says. I nod my head silently as we step through the threshold of the classroom. 
I plop down in the plastic chair. I brush my hair down as the static pulls it up to the back of the seat. Looking back towards the front of the classroom, I’m taken aback by the sight in front of me. 
The classroom is still semi-empty, but every seated student is turned around and looking at me. Every single person turns back around quickly once I make eye contact. Except one. 
The guy in front of me, someone on the football team of the school from my vague knowledge. “Hey, I’m Brandon. Heard you knocked up my boy Chris, hm?” He says. I feel my heart plummet in my chest. I’m speechless, not a single word forming in my mind. 
“Brandon,” I hear Matt’s voice spit from beside me. “--turn around and shut the fuck up.” He threatens. I sit frozen in place, my body unwilling to even take a breath of air. The tightness in my chest is impossibly constricting. 
Brandon scoffs, rolling his eyes at Matt before directing his gaze back to me. “Whatever, man.” He grumbles. “Didn’t even know you could talk, to be honest. Does Chris share with you? Does she give good-”
“Don’t talk to him like that.” I grit out from my clenched teeth. Who would want to talk to this idiot anyway? My blood boils as my knuckles crack from clenching my fists. 
“Knew Jeffery called you a bitch for a reason.” He mumbles, turning back around in his seat. I sigh roughly, pulling my elbows up on the table and burrying my head in my hands. My hair creates a shield around me as I focus on the table in front of me. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. 
I close my eyes, taking a deep breath. A sudden gleam of light catches my attention. I look down, seeing Matt’s hand sliding under my gaze, his phone lighting up in front of me. The glowing screen is opened on the Pokemon-Go game. 
I bring my head up, looking over at him as he gives me a small smile. He looks down at the phone and back up at me. I let my eyes wander back to the screen, tapping on the animated creature. 
_
Before I knew it, the bell signaling the end of the first block had rung. I snap out of my trance, looking over at Matt with his phone in hand. When my eyes shift, I see him already staring directly at me. His head is leaned against his propped-up arm, his whole body shifted inwards towards mine. 
I watch as his cheeks shift to a pink hue, his eyes averting to his backpack on the desk. He pulls out a small pack of gum from his front pocket of his bag, holding out a piece for me. I hesitantly take the piece of gum, unwrapping it and placing the minty wad in my mouth. 
He stands up, putting his hand flat out. I grab his phone, setting it in his hand as he laughs. I look around in confusion. What’s funny? The classroom is pretty much empty besides Mrs. Evans sitting and organizing papers on her desk. 
“Your hand.” He says. I watch as he slides his phone in his sweatshirt pocket, bringing his hand back out. I place my hand in his as he helps me get out from the desk chair. 
“Thanks,” I mumble. I drop his hand, noticing another student walking in for the next class. Looking at the time on my own phone, I notice two things. One, we only have a couple more minutes of passing period. Two, a text notification from my dad that skyrockets my anxiety.  
“You get going, I’ll meet you in class–I’m just gonna head to the bathroom real quick.” I state. He nods his head as we walk down the hallway. Walking up to the restrooms, I see him lean up against the brick wall, pulling out his phone. “You can go to class, I’ll just meet you there.” I suggest. 
He shakes his head, shrugging his shoulders. “I’ll wait.” He says. I huff, nodding my head and walking into the bathroom. 
As soon as I walk into a stall, I open my messages. 
[From Dad: Don’t come home until you learn not to touch my shit. I’m fucking trying, you’re making it worse.]
I’m not even just not enough–I make things worse. My eyes become blurry with tears. I stare up at the ceiling, trying to blink the wetness back, failing miserably. The warm liquid darts down my cheek, leaking un-comfortingly into my ear. 
Have I ever even been home? I wish she was here–maybe if she was here then things would be different. Maybe, he wouldn’t always be so bitter. Maybe, he would hug me. Maybe, my heart wouldn’t feel so broken through every single repetitive behavior. 
Why does it still hurt so much? 
I choke back a sob at the sound of the door to the bathroom creaking open. My eyes shut tight as I let out a sigh of pure exhaustion. It’s not even noon. 
“Y/n?” I freeze hearing Matt’s voice. I hear his footsteps pattern against the tile flooring. I watch as his sneakers peek out from underneath the stall door. “--are you okay?” He asks. 
I bite down on my cheek, hard. “Um, yeah-yeah, I’m…I’m okay.” I wince at my poor attempt to conceal the weakness in my voice as it cracks. I’m not weak, please don’t think I’m weak. 
“You’re not a very good liar.” He breathes out. I let out a dry laugh, clearing my cheeks from the wet tears. 
“I know.” I state. I hear him let out a heavy sigh. 
“Let’s just take you home, okay?” He voices. I let my hand fly up to my mouth, but I’m not faster than the cry that leaves my lips. Home. What home? “--hey, hey, hey, we can go back and take Trevor on a walk–or anything you want, okay? Can you come out?” His voice is soft, breathier than normal as if talking with his regular voice would make me break. 
I’m not weak. Am I? I shakily reach out, sliding the metal lock and pulling the door open. I keep my eyes trained to the floor with pure shame. I see his hand reach out, grabbing my own as he pulls me out of the stall. 
I follow his lead out of the bathroom, seeing the empty halls barren of any students. Did the bell already ring? 
_
The car ride back to his house was settled in a comfortable silence. I stared down at the text message on my phone, waiting for the words to not feel as if I was having a knife twisted in my back. But, each time I read over the words–it hurt just as much as the first time, if not worse. 
I see Matt reach over me from the passenger door propped open. When did he even park? He unbuckles my seatbelt, grabbing my backpack and slinging it over his shoulder. I shut off my phone, clenching it in my hand as I step out of the car. I hear the thud behind me as he closes the door. “Come on, Trevor definitely misses you.” He says. 
I squint my eyes at the bright surroundings. The thin layer of snow coating the ground reflects the sunny sky, making everything impossibly bright. Matt holds up his elbow as I let my hand twist around his arm. 
He jiggles his keys in the lock of the front door, scratches from the other side being heard. The door swings open, revealing Trevor, wagging his tail from side to side like a helicopter. “Hi, Trev!” Matt says in the baby-voice. I feel the smile creep onto my face, not being able to contain the joy from the sight before me. 
We both slide off our shoes, leaving them by the door. Matt walks forward with me still attached to his arm. I hear the light paws tapping behind us as we make our way into his room. His blinds are closed, a soft halo of light streaming in through the cracks. I breathe in the air, relaxing at the familiar scent. 
My chest starts to feel lighter. I set down my phone on his desk, running my hands through my hair. Matt plops down our bags, leaning them against his wall as he stands back up, placing his hands on his hips. “So,” he looks around. “--what can I do to make you feel better?” He asks, rubbing his hands together. 
His eyes meet mine as I suck in my bottom lips. “Honestly?” I start, meeting his soft gaze. “--distract me. Please.” 
“Say less, I got you.” He says with a gentle smile. 
_
The car ride had pursued with soft music playing in the back. I could hear him hum, strumming his fingers to the beat on the steering wheel. We had been in the car for quite some time, but stopped as we pulled up outside of a large building. 
I turn to face him as he pulls the keys out of the ignition. “What is this?” He scoffs, laughing dryly under his breath. “Out of my comfort zone, that’s for sure.” He mumbles. The building looks like some sort of fancy apartment complex, shooting up endlessly to the sky with large windows covering it almost entirely. 
I hear Matt’s door shut, watching as he jogs around to my side of the car. I open the door, seeing him pout. I laugh softly, grabbing his outreached hand. “I’m gonna start putting child-lock on.” He says in a completely serious tone. My gut clenches as I lean into him, letting out a chain of giggles as he continues pouting. 
“Yeah, okay.” I tease. I feel him squeeze my hand. “Now, what are we doing here exactly?” I ask. He sighs deeply, biting in his bottom lips. 
“Well,” he opens the front doors, gesturing for me to walk in. I do so, turning around as he reaches out, grabbing my hand back in his grip tighter than before. “I, um…I’m kinda scared of, um, elevators?” He says, his voice sounding higher. 
I nod, looking in front of us to see elevator doors and a bunch of buttons with different numbers to the side. I tug on his hand, but his feet stand in place as he gulps looking directly at the closed elevator doors. I walk back up to him, placing my hand on his chest. “You okay?” I ask. 
He doesn’t look down at me, only shaking his head furiously. I bring my hand up, rubbing his shoulder. His eyes shoot down to mine. “Nevermind, let’s–” I cut him off, tugging his hand along with me as I pressed the highest number button, thirty-two. 
“How about,” I turned back around, seeing his eyes fall down on me. “--we make a deal?” I voice. I see his eyebrows furrow as he starts rubbing along his jaw with his free hand. 
“Deal?” I nod my head, “Yep–anything. Whatever it takes to get you on this elevator, within reason obviously, we’ll make a deal.” I explain. His eyes dart around, his hand now running through his hair that falls perfectly. 
An innocent smile grows on his face. “I have three requests.” I push my head further, urging him to continue. He holds up his pointer finger. “One, you have to make sure I don’t have a panic attack on this death-trap.” He says. 
I laugh, nodding my head. “Got it, what’s your other two wishes for your genie?” I tease. His nose scrunches up as his head turns to the side in embarrassment. 
“Well…” he trails off. “I can’t think right now seeing the floor numbers–oh my god.” He exclaims, his eyes trained on the little screen above the elevator doors that shows the floor number it’s on. 
I pat his chest, “Give me the other two later, hm?” He gulps, nodding his head. I hear the ding sound behind me, turning around to see the elevator doors sliding open. The backside of the elevator is completely glass, the other sides being metal. 
I step in, hearing Matt’s feet drag on the floor before the elevator sinks in gently from the added weight. His grip on my hand becomes almost painful as the doors close. I squeeze his hand in my own, looking up to see him staring at the ceiling. 
“Hey, what’s your favorite color?” I ask. His eyes are shut tightly, his head pointed up to the ceiling. I tug on his hand, drawing his attention. 
“Huh?” He asks, letting out a large huff of air. 
“Your favorite color?” I repeat. He shakes his head, his eyes darting all around the elevator. I feel him start to wobble on his feet, swaying. I grab his shoulder, letting our hands drop. “Hey,” I grab the back of his neck, forcing him to look down instead of up at the mirror ceiling. “Look at me, Matt.”
His ocean eyes gleam down at me, glossed over with fear. I bring my hands up, cupping his face as his hands clasp around my forearms. “What’s your favorite color?” I repeat. He shakes his head, shutting his eyes tightly. “Matt, look at me, come on.” I plead. 
His breaths come out more uneven. I feel my heart clench at the sight of his face twisting in discomfort. I reach my hand up, running my nails along his scalp. He lets out a heavy breath, leaning into my touch. He winces at the sound of the elevator beeping from going up another floor. “Do you want to get off, Matt? I can press a button right now, this can all be over.” I voice softly.
His head falls forward, his silky hair covering his eyes. “No,” he whispers, looking back up at me. “--I just need you to distract me, but I can’t think.” He looks around, whipping his head back at me as he accidentally gazes out the glass pane wall. “I…I don’t even know what my favorite color is right now, I can’t think, I can’t think.” He mumbles. 
My eyes fall on his lips, my hands falling to rest on his shoulders. “Matt?” His eyes flicker to mine, his face relaxing as I stand up on my tip-toes, leaning closer. I feel his breath fan across my face, his eyes trailing down and back up from my lips to my eyes. 
“Please.” He says. I close the distance between us, his hands holding either side of my waist securely. His lips move against mine passionately. He leans down, pushing his lips harder against mine. I stumble back from the sudden change of balance. He pulls my waist closer to his front side. I take a couple steps back, following his lead as I feel my back press against the cold steel wall. 
He pulls away from my lips. I take a large gasp of air, my arms looping around his neck to hold myself up. He sucks in a breath, not hesitating before placing his lips back onto mine. A fiery heat swells in my body, tingles fluttering in my chest and stomach as I let his tongue dart into my mouth. 
Our lips fit together in perfect sync, dancing like choreography imprinted in our minds. His hands squeeze around my waist, pulling me impossibly closer. I hear a loud ring. We separate breathlessly as he rests his forehead against mine. I look up, meeting his eyes that are squinted from a soft smile. 
I attempt to catch my breath as the elevator doors start to slowly glide open. I blush, letting my hands fall as a elderly lady walks in the elevator. “Hello.” She greets with a gentle voice. I wave back as Matt tugs my hand. 
I walk in tow of Matt, watching as the lady laughs to herself as the doors close. As soon as the doors to the elevator close, I direct my attention to Matt. “Are we taking the stairs now?” I tease. He shakes his head, reaching out behind me. 
“Nope,” he says, retracting his hand with a smile. I turn around, seeing a glowing elevator button on the main floor level. I turn back to him, raising my eyebrows with a smile. 
“Trying to get me alone again?” I hear the elevator ping from behind us. His hands rest on my waist, back me into the empty elevator. He pressed me against the glass pane as I heard the doors shut. 
“Honestly?” He says, moving the hair from my neck and gleaming down at me. “Yeah.” He states, crashing his lips back onto mine.
I tangle my hand in the back of his hair, tugging slightly at the root. He groans against my mouth, the vibration shooting tingles through my entire body. His hands squeeze up and down my waist, landing on my hips. He tugs me by the hips closer to him, making my body slouch on the glass wall. 
He looks down at me with a smile. “Best,” he lands a kiss on my cheek. “--distraction,” his lips trail down my neck, leaving a wet kiss. “--ever.” he says. His lips trail up, making me shiver as they brush against my ear. I feel his teeth gently tug on the sensitive lobe, the hairs on my neck standing straight up. 
“How do you feel about elevators now, hm?” I tease. 
“Fucking love 'em,” he mumbles, trailing his hands up and down my sides. 
_
The elevator ride had ended with sore lips and flushed cheeks. We had driven back to the house, settling on his backyard swinging sofa. We sat in the familiar position, my bent knees over his lap as he let his hands massage my calves. 
The birds chirped happily as the sun loomed over us. I let the warmth sink into my skin, appreciating the moment. “What’s our other two wishes, hm? Aren’t I your genie?” I recall. I tilt my head down, watching him laugh softly. 
“Yeah…” he trails off, scratching at his stubble on his jaw. “Hmm….oh!” He looks over at me with a proud smirk. “My second wish is for you to go on an official date with me.” He requests. I feel the anxiety bubble in my stomach from the excitement of his words. 
“M-kay.” I responded. I feel an itch on my forearm, reaching under my sleeve to scratch the area. My fingers rub against the skin, my nails softly grazing my forearm. I feel a bump, the bump from my scar. Dad. “Hey, Matt?” I voice. I hear him hum in response, looking at me as I gulp loudly. “Can I–can I sleep over tonight?” I ask. The nerves rack down my body, my eyes starting to feel watery. I have nowhere else to go.
His lips tug up into a smile. “That was gonna be my third wish, of course.” He says. I feel my cheeks heat up as I look back up at the bright blue sky. My favorite color of blue, pale and soft. 
“What is your favorite color?” I ask, repeating the question from earlier.
“Blue.” He says. I look down at him with a smile, “Me too.” 
_
We had sun bathed in silence until Nick and Chris came home. When the two boys entered the household, they immediately brought ideas of what to do. We had settled on playing video games, Fortnite in specific. I had watched as Matt pressed the remote in his hand aggressively, cursing at the screen when bullets and explosions sounded. 
“You think you’re ready to give it a shot?” He asks. I shrug my shoulders while sitting on the edge of the bed. 
“I don’t really understand it–I have no idea what I’m doing.” I say.
He takes his headset off, placing it over my ear and onto my head. He adjusted it, making one ear uncovered. “I’ll help you, come here.” He directs. I stand by the monitor, crouching down as he types on the keyboard. 
I turn around, hearing him clear his throat. His hands grip me from behind on my hips. “Is this okay?” He asks, looking down at his lap. I blush, nodding softly. I feel him tug me onto his lap, his arms enveloping around my own. “Comfortable?” He asks, his breath fanning on the side of my head. 
My insides feel as if they are burning with excitement as I hum in response. He laughs gently, caressing my cheek. “You’re so cute.” he compliments. I feel my eyes widen as I scrunch my nose. 
“Shut up.” I whine. He dryly laughs at this, mumbling under his breath. 
“Okay, so,” he brings his hands over mine, making my fingers twitch on the controller. The character starts moving as I hear Chris and Nick through the headset, cursing and arguing. Matt reaches up, pulling me closer to his chest as he hits the soundboard on the keyboard. “I can hear them, sorry that they’re so loud.” He says. 
“Anyhow,” he shifts, guiding my actions as I begin to understand how to move the character.
_
The streams of sunlight had faded peering in from his blinds. I was still situated in his lap, but playing Club Penguin. He could tell when I had started to get stressed out from the overwhelming game, switching it and teaching me the cartoon penguin one. 
“I can’t believe you’ve never played this before! I would’ve assumed you have–especially given that your favorite animal is a penguin.” He says. I feel his chest shake with laughter from behind me. 
“DINNER!” I hear Chris shout. Matt taps my thigh as I get up from his lap. I feel my head get light, becoming dizzy as I sway on my feet. 
“Hey,” he grabs my hips, pulling me against his chest as he stands. “--you okay?” He asks. I nod my head lazily, regaining full vision as my body adjusts. 
“Just dizzy.” I remark. 
“Here, let’s go eat. I know my mom will be happy that you’re here.” He says. She’ll be happy that I’m here? The statement makes my heart fill with warmth as my lips turn upward. 
We make our way out to the kitchen, the aroma of food filling my nostrils. Homemade food. An actual meal. 
“Ah! Y/N! I was hoping I’d see you around soon! I made meatballs–the boy's favorite!” Marylou exclaims. I smile at her excitement. She sets down the pan in the middle of the counter, a stack of plates next to it. She wipes her hands off on each other, walking over to me with open arms. 
I laugh as she squeezes me in a tight hug. “Mom, don’t hurt her.” Matt says. I let myself fall more relaxed in Marylou's embrace as she loosened her grips slightly. 
“I’ll get the baby pictures out.” She threatens. My eyes darted to Matt’s, seeing him wide-eyed. He holds his hands up in defense. 
“Nevermind, I’ll shut up.” He says. Marylou pulls me back, even tighter. “Jokes on him–I’m showing you anyway.” she whispers loudly. I hear Matt groan from beside me, burying his face in his hands. 
_
Marylou was not kidding. We had eaten dinner, mostly Chris yapping about random things. The meatballs were heavenly–a family recipe that Marylou was happily offering to me. His father still hadn’t come home, caught up in some type of work apparently. 
We all made our way over to the living room sofa. Chris and Nick sat on one side of the ‘L’ sofa, while I sat between Marylou and Matt on the other side. She had a scrapbook in her lap, pointing at pictures of the young triplets. 
“How did you tell them all apart?” I ask. 
“Well,” she points to Chris. “--he has a birthmark on his back. Nick had always been a bit bigger, too.” Nick's lips tug into a straight line.
“What a lovely reminder.” He sarcastically remarks. 
Matt leans, placing his elbows on his knees. “Y/n has a birthmark too.” He says. Marylou looks over at me as I pull my hair to the side. “It looks like a smiley face, see!” He explains, his fingertip touching gently on my neck. 
“Oh! That’s adorable! Chris’s is just a blob.” She states, completely serious. I look over, seeing Chris throw his hands in the air. I laugh at his offense, Marylou turning over her shoulder to look at him. “--but he has such a cute smile! They all do!” She compliments. Nick softly shuts his eyes, shaking his head from left to right. 
“Mom.” They all whine in sync. 
“Do you have any baby pictures of yourself?” She asks. I shrug my shoulders. Did I? 
“I think I might, hold on, I’ll go check my phone.” I get up from the couch, grabbing my phone off the counter. It’s almost ten, no notifications from my dad. I huff in disappointment, opening my near-empty camera roll. I smile, seeing a picture of me as a toddler. 
The picture is sometime before I was ten. It was me, holding my moms hand. My mom was standing outside with me, we had just gotten back from a walk around the block. Her beanie on her head covered her thinning hair. She didn’t even look sick except for her deathly pale skin. 
Mrs. Evans had taken the picture. It was back when she used to teach at my elementary school in the next town over. She had sent me the picture out of the blue as soon as I had arrived in Somerville. She had asked to meet up, which I had initially ignored. But, when she told me she had something she wanted to give to me that belonged to my mom, I couldn’t refuse. 
It was my baby blanket, the one my mom had hand-knitted while laying in a hospital bed on bed-rest. She had been bored out of her mind. She had kept knitting, undoing the same ball of yarn to preserve material because we didn't have the money to buy more.
I watched her give up, her hands too weak to hold grip on the knitting-needle. 
“Actually,” I sat back down, Matt’s arm wrapping around me. “--this is the only one I have.” They both lean, looking at the picture displayed on my phone screen. 
“Oh…?” Marylou voices. Her tone grabs my attention, but Chris is quick to interrupt my thoughts. 
“You only have one picture on your phone? How!” Chris exclaims. I feel my body go rigid. It’s the only picture I have at all. Matt’s arm that rests behind me curls, his hand rubbing on my shoulder. I let myself sink into his hold, letting out a soft sigh. 
“You were just the cutest, huh?” Marylou says. I hum, not trusting my voice. I feel the cushion move from beneath me, watching as Matt stands up. He holds out a hand. 
“Yeah, now, if you’ll excuse us–I don’t need her seeing us naked in a bathtub together. Goodnight everyone.” He says. Marylou laughs, giving me a wave with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. 
“Goodnight.” They all chime. 
Matt pulls me up, holding my hand by his side. His feet slap on the ground softly as I follow his lead. He closes his bedroom door behind us. “Are you okay?” He asks. I nod my head, still unsure of my own voice. 
“Come on, wanna borrow some clothes?” He asks. I look down at my body, looking back up at him as a smile clouds his face. “--well, more.” He laughs. 
I shake my head, letting out a dry giggle. “I’m stealing your whole closet at this point.” I reason. He shrugs, rummaging through the clothes before yanking out numerous pieces of clothing.
“You look good in my clothes.” He points out. I feel my ears heat up as I let my eyes fall to my lap. “Here, a clean sweatshirt. I might ask if Nick has any bottoms for you–Madi sleeps over a lot, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.” He walks out of the room, leaving me with my thoughts and the sweatshirt. 
I greedily bring my hands down to the material, appreciating the soft material. It’s green, having stars embroidered on it. I look at the logo, seeing a price marked on it. 
$325
My eyes bulge out, dropping the sweatshirt on the bed as if it was poison ivy. I hear the wooden floors creek, footsteps seeming closer and closer. 
Matt walks through the door, tilting his head in confusion. He lets out a nervous laugh. “You good there?” I stand frozen, my mouth running dry. I shake my head. Matt walks over, setting a pair of PJ pants down on the bed. I feel the weight of the bed dip to my side, his arm curling around me. “What’s up–talk to me.” He urges. 
I bury my face in my hands, embarrassed beyond belief. “Can I just have a different sweatshirt?” I ask. He nods, walking over and flipping through hangers. 
“Do you not like that one? It’s one of my favorites.” He says, peeping over his shoulder to look at me. 
I shake my head furiously. “No,” I let my eyes falter to the green sweatshirt. I look over the fabric, scared I may have even left a fingerprint. “--it’s not that I don’t like it. It’s just…” I look back up at him to see him now facing me completely, a confused expression painted on his face. 
“It’s just…” He repeats. He walks closer. I watch as his feet plant right in front of my own. I let my eyes wander up to his, seeing him standing in front of me. His face holds a quick sympathetic smile. 
I let out a sigh, running my clammy hands over my thighs. “It’s just, I don’t even think I’ve ever held something worth three hundred dollars. Let alone–wear it.” And the fact that it’s his favorite weighed heavily on my subconscious. 
HIs hand pets down the side of my head, lifting me up by the chin. My eyes meet his, a soft smile apparent on his lips. “I want you to wear it.” I open my mouth to reason with him. He stops me by giving me a warning look. “--wear it for me, okay? I trust you. Plus, it’s just a hoodie.” He says. 
Yeah, a hoodie worth more than anything I own. 
I feel his warm hand caress my jaw. His thumb reaches up, dragging my bottom lip down as he stares into me with an unreadable gaze. His thumb glides down, my lip revolting back to its usual position. I nod my head, hypnotized by his pale eyes. 
He reaches over, setting something in my lap. “I’ll be back, I’m gonna go talk to my mom real quick. Do you need anything?” I shake my head. “--alright, I’ll be back in a couple minutes. Don’t miss me too much.” He remarks. 
I roll my eyes, making him laugh. He walks out the door, shutting it softly behind him. I look down, grasping the green hoodie carefully in my hands. I strip from his clothes I had been wearing, leaving myself in just my underwear. 
My eyes wander up, catching my own figure changing in his mirror leaned against the wall. I stand still, analyzing myself. Although I didn’t get to eat very much–I wasn’t very thin. It was as if my body learned to preserve any fat possible. I was grateful for it, it made everything not so obvious. 
I looked like a regular person. My hands wander over my semi-dry skin. I hadn’t even remembered the last time I was able to just go out and buy lotion. My skin has always been sensitive, especially in the dry winter. Everytime my nails scratched over my skin, a red mark identical to the path scratched appeared almost instantaneously. 
I pull the soft, heavy hoodie over my head. It drowns my entire arm, covering my hands. The waist of it falls slightly above mid-thigh. I pull the pants on, fitting them nearly perfect to my body. When’s the last time I had clothes that fit? 
All my clothes were baggy. Partly because of how worn down they had become over the years. Also because it was a lot of my dads old clothes. I refused to steal–my anxiety simply wouldn’t allow it. However, I would often wander to the lost-and-found at my previous school, picking up an item if I needed it and it sat longer than a week with no owner claiming it. 
I fold the clothes I had previously been wearing, setting them neatly on the nightstand. While setting them down, I hear a clank. Fuck, his cologne. 
Immense panic devastates my entire body. I whip my head, seeing the cologne bottle on the floor, seemingly in one piece. A knock sounds at the door, “Are ya decent?” Matt says, heavy with his boston-accent. 
My heart feels like it’s pulsing out of my chest. I reach over, seeing no cracks in the glass and sighing with relief. I place the bottle back in its original spot. “Yeah.” I answer. 
The door props open, Matt walking in and shutting it behind him. “Are you okay? I heard something–did you fall?” He asks. He walks over to his bathroom as I watch him from the edge of the bed. 
“Yeah, I’m all good. I accidentally knocked over your cologne–but it’s okay! It didn’t break! I am sorry for being so klutzy though.” I voice. He turns around, holding out a toothbrush to me with toothpaste on it. I take it, scrubbing my teeth as he does the same. 
He stops for a minute. “You’re fine, I like that you’re so clumsy.” He winks, continuing to brush his teeth. I blush, spitting in the sink and holding the toothbrush cluelessly. He rines his brush, placing it in the cup next to the faucet. Taking the brush from my hand, he does the same thing. 
I smile looking at his blue toothbrush next to my green one. I look over, seeing him smiling at me. A blush crawls onto my face as I quickly turn back to his bed. I plop down on his comforter, getting under the soft duvet. I pause, “Oh wait, what side do you sleep on?” I ask. 
He’s already laying down on the other side of the bed, placing a folded arm behind his head. His eyes are shut, but he slightly opens one. “I don’t care which side unless you do.” He says. I shake my head with a nervous smile, snuggling into the sheets further. 
I turn on my side, my back facing him as I curl into the pillow with my arms. The warmth curiates around me. “Actually,” I hear him shuffle, my body falling back as the mattress leans from weight. His arm wraps around my waist, pulling me to his chest. “--I want whatever side you're on–if that’s okay with you.” 
I nod my head. I feel him nuzzle his face into the crook of my neck. Shivers run from the bottom of my feet to the top of my spine. I let his body heat warm me up further, appreciating every ounce of warmth that my body desperately craved. 
Taglist:@sturniolosmind@freshloveforthefit@gnxosblog@sturnreblog@mattsturniolowifey@mattscokewhore@melanch0lybby@mattybswife@samandcolbyfan22@ruedowney@iluvm4ttsturni0l0@greatooglymooglyyy@txssvx@junnniiieee07@sturnstvs@sturnioloblogs@sunsetsturniolos@bb-1s-blog@flowerxbunnie@rootbeerworshiper@sturniolohoe@leah-loves-lilies@mayhem-7-blog@writtenbywonyoung@braindead4l@lovergirl4387@chrissturniolosslut@hearts4chriss@1horrormoviewhore1@mattslolita@hearts4chris@nicksmainbitch@imfromthediningtable@st7rnioioss@sturniololol@nedsmarie44@jennss23@tomskookie@itssophiasstuff@chrissystur@chrisstankyleg@cloudykitten2004@abruuu01@riasturns@strnilo@chrissystur@lrs-jenkinson@yourfavoritefangirl@stonermattsgf@x3rox@youaremyfiveever@cookiehaos@iloveneilperry@lullvu@chrattstromboli@milasturniolo@yourfavoritefangirl@sstvrnioloo@sturnioloblogs@seahorsie11@sturnzsblog@sturnikitty@st7rnioioss@sturniol0s@bunny-cotton@stingerayyy2@riasturns@sturniol0s@sturnioloa@stasiesturn@imwetforyourmom@milasturniolo@matty-bear@chrisstankyleg@bellasfavbisexual
168 notes · View notes
Note
Hi Sarah! First, thank you for always welcoming and opening up interesting conversations. I love that about this little corner of the internet so much! I guess what I want to contribute is that I can kind of see what that anon said as being someone’s knee-jerk reaction. But we have to remember, everything is speculation right now. Is TTPD a breakup album? It seems likely. But we don’t know if it’s to “trash” Joe. It could very much be talking about how they both made mistakes. (Cont…)
(Cont…) YLM is probably our first glimpse into things and I wouldn’t say it is trashing Joe by any means. Taylor is just sharing how she felt and HER side, which is what she’s always done. So that shouldn’t seem shocking? What does bother me though, is that it seems like it is more of the fandom that starts to trash Taylor’s exes more than Taylor does. The fandom acts like Taylor was being held hostage in a relationship when she was not. She made her own choices. (2) (Cont…) I have shared before about how I was surprised how quickly people turned on Joe. He was very important to Taylor for a time. 2016 drama, reputation, Taylor needing her quiet, etc…but obviously it broke down somewhere along the way. And that is what we are probably going to get more insight on? But the relationship wasn’t all terrible like some of the fandom is assuming. And I don’t think it’s fair to Tay to assume she is going to trash Joe when we DON’T KNOW yet. (3)
---
Hi friend! Tysm for this response and for choosing to be in this lil space and contributing to i so thoughtfully. I am no stranger to the knee-jerk reaction - I had a very unkind one typed out in response when that message was sitting in my drafts and let it stew for a long time like that until I finally felt like I could come at it with more space and the hopes of entertaining more open and beautiful conversations like this one! So again ty x2 for proving that intuition right that it was something that could indeed be turned around just based on one's approach and response.
It's been an interesting, very slight, change in tone and perception over the years of the Weaponized Songwriter. It's this strange view that her art exists as a means to bring Bad Men to their knees and not primarily as a method to process her own life experiences and to make sense of how others have made her feel. It isn't X did Y so they should Z. It's X happened to me and it made me A, B, C. She is the main character of her own cinematic universe! It isn't about 'trashing' it's just about experiences and the unvarnished version of her truth about what that experience was.
Somehow - if it makes sense - I find myself equally bothered both by the trashing and the defence of the muses. Imo, they are tangential to the story and I just am not invested in what happens to them when they're written out of it. And I don't care to putting my energy into vilifying or protecting them when my investment is in the writer and her story.
27 notes · View notes
Text
Things I don’t get about the marauders fandom as someone who’s been obsessed with them for literal years
1. How we let so many characters be only children?? like I get that people don’t necessarily want to make OCs but HOW did it get to this? James, Marlene, Peter, Remus, Mary, Barty, Dorcas, Alice, Frank and so many others! Idk maybe it’s just where I’m from but look me in the eyes and tell me you know that many people who don’t have siblings ALSO the ratio is so off and barely any of them have only child energy. It’s just not right.
2. How sooo many of you aren’t multi shippers. Like what do you MEAN you can only see James with Regulus and Regulus with James?? What about bartylus? what about sunrose? what about draksun/sunkiller? what about moonwater? what about jily? what about prongstail? WHAT do you read?? Aren’t you bored??? WHAT DO YOU MEAN you only have ONE ship for each character???? As a multi shipper, I can be convinced of any ship with anything ranging from a real good fic or a pretty edit to an enthusiastic rant from a random person on TikTok and it just makes things interesting. Maybe my adhd brain just needs more ships to focus on or maybe some of you just lack flexibility ( or imagination), but we need to fix this cause there aren’t enough fics with the ships I like 😭😭
3. THE SHIP NAMES. I can’t be the only one who thinks some of these suck right? Like why are we saying jegulus when starchaser and sunseeker are RIGHT THERE?? Same with jily and flowerpot, and bartylus and starkiller. ALSO some names make me wonder if some of you just haven’t grasped the concept of ship names or if I just got it all wrong cause marylily and jegulily are just annoying, why are we keeping the L in Lily? The point is to merge the names together not stick them one beside the other, I just say marily and jeguily because it rolls off the tongue so much more easily
4. The Peter erasure. I just don’t get it, it’s so easy to include him in things, you don’t have to make him a main character, but just mention him every once in awhile. Sometimes I’m reading an important scene in a fic and everyone is mentioned EXCEPT for Peter! It’s so easy, just make him roll his eyes at his friends being idiots or something. And it’s not like you’ll get his personality wrong, ALL THESE CHARACTERS PERSONALITIES WERE MADE UP BY FANS but I understand that some people lack imagination so here’s some things about Peter I like to imagine: he’s a HUGE gossip, like my man sees and hears everything and he takes notes!! He likes to randomly turn into a rat and take a nap in one of the other marauders’ pocket, he does it so much that they had to tell the girls that they had a pet rat cause they were asking too many questions. He’s really perceptive and his friends are all oblivious so it leads to funny scenarios like:
Remus & Sirius after YEARS of pining: we’re dating
Peter: I thought you guys had been together since third year?
Sirius: I’ve literally introduced you to people I was dating?!
Peter, shrugging: look mate I don’t question you lot anymore, you do whatever you want, I don’t care what you’re into, I just don’t wanna know about it
He also pulls people, like he’s really nice and will gossip to anyone who’s in his vicinity so he’s friends with basically everyone and he’s funny and pretty and he’s got charisma so he just charms everyone and when I say everyone, I mean everyone, even the slytherins have a soft spot for him (that’s how he gets accepted among the death eaters during the war actually). In pranks he’s the lookout so he often has to distract the teachers so he asks them random things and spits out half-made up facts about anything so he’s besties with most of the teachers which means he doesn’t get many detentions.
5. The Black brothers, more specifically the way the speak to each other in most fics, like they call each other “brother” so often and as someone who has a brother I’ve never called him that. Is it an anglophone thing? Like do people who speak English at home all do that or are fic writers only children?? (That would explain my first point actually) Or is it more a rich people thin?? Cause I know it’s not a francophone thing that’s for sure (also special mention to people who don’t know anything about French writing Sirius and Regulus as French speakers, I can tell you don’t know what you’re writing about but I eat it up everytime anyway)
6. This is actually just about ao3 but I WANNA BE ABLE TO LEAVE MORE KUDOS!!! I just loooooove fics but I can’t leave kudos at every single chapter and I’m bad at writing comments so I can’t show the author how much I love their work, I hate itttt 😭
7. Why there aren’t more fics about the Black family, and not just Sirius and Regulus, but Andromeda, Bellatrix and Narcissa as well like that would be so interesting and maybe like a deep dive into the Black family ideals and all that (if you have fic recs I’m all ears!!)
8. How jegulily is a pretty popular ship (which I LOVE) yet SO FEW people ship Regulus and Lily outside of it! They are a power couple and I love them and they don’t need James to work!!!
9. Why there isn’t more background Minnie x Poppy cause they are my mothers and I wanna see them moooooreeee
If you read all of this I love you 🥰 have an amazing day/night
22 notes · View notes
dracodazaii · 23 hours
Text
As a team neutral fan who loves both teams, i gotta say i heard the most strangest justification for the Rhaenyra’s Strong kids since I can at least understand some views but this 🤨🫤
This person was basically saying that Rhaenyra’s boys are legitimate and comparing it to the other infamous royal-bastards situation aka Cersei’s kids.
Their first point was that Laenor claims the kids, well you can argue so does Robert he literally says “my son joffrey” when Ned writes down his will. Then saying that their claim is through Rhaenyra, then, sure maybe then Jace being heir is fine but you can’t apply that to Luke since his claim of Driftmark isn’t.
Saying the Strong kids get their claim also because the King recognises them as heirs but King Robert does the same for Joffrey and they’re both UNAWARE of the illegitimacy of their heirs!
It doesn’t even matter because all that matters is public perception imo. Like at least the Lannister kids physical attributes can be explained through their mother but you gotta jump through hoops to say the Strong boys having brown-coloured attributes unlike their mother+father makes sense. Whatever the character themselves felt personally with the illegitimacy does not matter because inheritance has rules which dictate no matter what, legitimate heirs come first, this isn’t about people’s personal choice but about the law and precedent. (lowk same thing regarding viserys’ choice to have rhaenyra as heir even though i love her)
The morality of the situation is not important and what the “fathers” think doesn’t matter. Just because Cersei is an evil person doesn’t mean her kids shouldn’t be heirs especially since at least they look like their parent.
I love Rhaenyra but I don’t understand how anyone can view the kids as legitimate but I genuinely want to see why anyone in TB believes this for any reason since these reasons felt nonsensical to me. The only thing I can get behind is the fact that since Corlys, the Lord of Driftmark says Luke is heir, that Luke has a claim.
24 notes · View notes
questintheskies · 24 hours
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
–We first saw you at Battle in the Valley in San Jose, where you attacked Shota Umino. You haven’t been a part of AEW since the summer; why did you choose to come to NJPW?
Perry: Well Japan for me is an opportunity, not to start over, but start a new chapter without having to apologise or pretend to be sorry for the actions of other people. It’s a way that I can stay true to myself and continue to grow despite everything that’s gone on.
–After you targeted Shota Umino in San Jose, you ripped up your AEW contract. What was going through your mind in that moment?
Perry: Ripping that contract was a declaration ‘I’m not playing by your rules anymore’. If (AEW) are too afraid to have me anymore, if the spectre of Jack Perry is too much, they don’t want to deal with the conversations, the ramifications that brings, then that’s fine.
–Certainly your last moments in AEW were very controversial.
Perry: I don’t need them. I will go by myself across the world, all by myself, without any of my friends, without any of the things I’m used to, anything that’s been my life for the last five years, and I’ll do it on my own, make my own way.
–So with that in mind, can we say you’re no longer AEW’s Jack Perry? Are you NJPW’s Jack Perry? A freelancing Jack Perry? Or HOUSE OF TORTURE’s Jack Perry?
Perry: Some of these things are unclear even to me, but I would say this- loyalty is a two way street, and I show loyalty to those who are loyal to me. As of now, certain parties have been very good to me, and I intend to repay that.
The only reason you ever do anything for other people is to get something in return
–Why of all people would you target Shota Umino when you made your first steps in NJPW?
Perry: The thing about Shota is there are a lot of similarities between him now and who I used to be. He’s a young guy, a good looking guy. And I can see when I look at him that he’s really doing everything he does for the people. The only reason you ever do anything for other people is to get something in return.
–Shota Umino was labelled last year as one of the ‘Reiwa Three Musketeers’, not unlike how AEW positioned you as one of its ‘Four Pillars’.
Perry: Yeah, I was a golden boy once, I was a ‘pillar’ if you will. I really let other people’s perceptions of me guide my actions. But at the end of the day I wasn’t seeing the results I wanted to. I realised I was never going to perform optimally if I was worried about the expectations of other people. That’s the position he’s in right now. If he was to be honest with himself, he’s not getting the results that he wants to have. The moment he realises that it’s other people’s expectations that are holding him down, he will be way better off for it.
–How do you feel about Shota Umino’s connections to Jon Moxley? 
Perry: It’s interesting that even though we’ve worked in the same company, I’ve never crossed paths in the ring with Jon Moxley. He’s pretty much universally respected, somebody that calls himself the Ace of the World, and there’s a good case for that. But when it comes to him and Shota… From personal experience, I used to have a mentor, and there’s a lot you can get from that, but at a certain point there are things you can’t figure out unless you’re on your own. He needs to have the balls to step away from the comfort of someone who’s been around much longer and can lay the foundations for you. I’m sure he’s benefitted a lot from Moxley. Let’s see what you’ve got when it’s just you.
I’m not shying away from the blame
–Can you sum up exactly what the ‘Scapegoat’ name means to you?
Perry: I think it’s ingrained in human nature to be afraid of blame, and the disapproval of others. At the end of the day, that’s weakness. That’s a weak mindset, a weak soul. If you know the truth, what good is the opinion of other people? If you know the truth, you have power. I’m not shying away from the blame. If you need me to be the Scapegoat because you don’t have the bravery to stand up for your own actions, then that’s fine. I’m man enough to take that blame from all of us and I’m not going to shy away from it. 
–Certainly anyone who joins HOUSE OF TORTURE has to be comfortable with accepting blame and hate. Did you feel a connection to H.O.T, or did you simply feel that you wanted to be with the most hated faction in professional wrestling?
Perry: I wasn’t really expecting what’s come about, but I’m certainly not upset about it. I almost feel comfortable here now. Being one of if not probably the most hated wrestlers in North America, as I start a new chapter in Japan, why not pick up as I left off? As I said, people, especially where I came from, are afraid. They don’t want to confront what’s looking at them in the eyes. These guys aren’t afraid. They deal with all this sh*t from people every day. I respect that. Deal with it, move forward and be who you want to be, not what people expect you to be. 
–Ren Narita has taken a very similar path to your own, connected to Shota Umino and now in HOUSE OF TORTURE. Do you feel a lot in common with him?
Perry: Definitely Ren and I have shared a similar path. I’ve been in a few teams in my career, and there’s a lot you can get from a good partner, a lot you can learn about yourself. but at the end of the day, everyone has to make the decision to bet on themselves. I respect that he had the confidence and the balls to make the decision he had to make.
The reaction I know I’m going to get is exactly what this is all about
–Narita has said that HOUSE OF TORTURE represents ‘true Strong Style’, which is an opinion a lot of fans take issue with. Coming from outside, what does the idea of Strong Style mean to you?
Perry: I would say HOUSE OF TORTURE represents what I understand Strong Stye to be. I think at the start of my wrestling career I was so caught up in this idea of ‘virtue’ of following the rules and doing what it is you’re supposed to do. I’ve seen first hand more than anyone, what does any of that really matter? People in real life can’t tell a good guy from a bad guy when they’re staring them right in the face. The most important thing is whether or not you’re successful. Instead of sacrificing yourself for these morals you think are so important, sometimes it’s being underhanded that gets you where you want to be.
 –You defeated Umino in Ota at Anniversary, and now it’s a direct rematch in Chicago. There’s no doubt you’ll be public enemy number one there. What do you expect to be different in this rematch April 12?
Perry: I imagine people think I’ll be off my game in Chicago, and they couldn’t be more wrong. I’m absolutely thrilled to be back in the Windy City. The reaction that I know I’m going to get is exactly what this is all about. I’ve made it very clear that I’m not going to apologise to anybody, and I won’t pretend that things didn’t go down the way they did. I can’t wait to be in front of all these people who think they know what it’s all about, hearing what they think of me. I’ll be in my home country, but it doesn’t feel like my home anymore. So Shota, come over, give me your best shot, but if you think it’s going to be any easier, you’re sadly mistaken.
18 notes · View notes
aeruthien · 1 year
Text
Now we've seen Whitestone, I want to comment on Culture in Critical Role, and how there are some fundamental aspects of DnD which make it unsuitable for exploring cultural differences.
I've seen some very valid posts about how Marquet in C3 isn't used to its full potential as a cultural setting, among others because most of the PCs are not native to Marquet. But while I fully agree, I want to broaden the argument even further: neither were Wildemount, Xhorhas or Tal'dorei.
I believe that Dungeons and Dragons is ill equipped to explore cultural differences, because there are key aspects of culture that it actively ignores: language, food and weather.
To start with language. In almost all versions of DnD or fantasy, everyone speaks common. This solves one of the main issues in world building, because it allows the players to travel the world without the issues that stem from not speaking a language. However, language is one of the main tools people use to distinguish themselves from others. Language, accent, tone, vocabulary and even grammar change based on who you are, where you come from and whom you're speaking to. But because everyone in Exandria speaks English like the cast do, they have a uniform culture, whether they are from Wildemount, Tal'dorei or Marquet. Even Caleb, who comes closest to breaking this pattern, is not truly Zemnian, because Liam (and Matt) doesn't actually speak German. Apart from the German accent and some German words, he doesn't speak like a non native German English speaker would.
Next up, food. Apart from some quick mentions of breakfast or dinner, food is almost always an afterthought. The Bell's Hells do not stop for lunch, and rations are almost never a problem. However, food is intrinsically linked to culture. What food is served, when food is served, and with whom food is eaten differs from place to place and from class to class. Is the food imported or is it grown locally? Is food served at 6PM sharp or much later? Do you eat with the whole family and is there always a surplus or do you have to fight for the scraps? What is the street food like? What spices are used? How does Xhorhas' cuisine differ from Wildemount, given that they live in perpetual night? But ultimately, the pie in Marquet is no different from the pie in Byroden, because again, the default will be the casts' default.
Finally, weather. While it might seem arbitrary, weather influences almost all aspects of our lives, from our homes, to our clothes, to our relationships. Is it warm enough to sit outside during the evening? This will encourage parties and late bedtimes. It is cold and rainy? People will sit inside pubs to stay warm. Colder and warmer climates, hot and dry climates, each of these influence when people are active and how they behave. Apart from the extremes, like the snow in Eiselcross, or the heat in the Fire Plane, the characters never have to deal with rain, or mist, or cold. They don't have to take shelter, they don't wake up cold, they don't need to keep a fire going or set up tents. And as such, there is no difference between a warm and hot jungle surrounding Jrusar or a high mountain trail in Zephrah, nor are the people who live there different.
There can be much more said about each of these three aspects of culture, and there are probably more examples to be given. And this is not intended as a excuse, or a reason for Matt not to try better. But sadly, DnD as a system glosses over most of the day-to-day interactions that make a city a particular city, or a culture a particular culture. And the default will always be the players' default.
49 notes · View notes
carlyraejepsans · 1 month
Note
saw your most recent post about really good fics that contain uncomfortable kinks and i immediately thought "ah, biscia must be reading the mpreg soriel fic" and almost left a reply talking about it but i stopped myself because i realized that would be an insane assumption to make. needless to say i felt so vindicated when i saw you link it in an earlier post.
Tumblr media
like. HELLO?
Tumblr media
HELLO???????
#answered asks#''I fear nothing good ever comes of it when it does'' is straight up SEARED into my brain as the toriel line of all time I've ever read#there's some character interpretations I don't share there. like i said i don't think either of them would cry that easily#and while the different conception (badumtss) of sex/gender in various monsters was interesting#i felt like it didn't quite deal with the ramifications of not strictly binary reproductions on social perception of gender like I could've#eg the part about boss monsters being closer to humans in how it works and thus having a different concept of mom/dad compared to skeletons#was pretty nice. but if you establish that skeletons work like ghosts but distinguish she/he ''for some reason'' even though all of them#can bear kids. and then you make a comment about ''the child possibly growing into a woman considering the shape of the pelvis'' it's like#why??????? why. whywhywhy. why would that be a factor. even hypothesizing a certain physical dimorphism. WHY pick the one tied to pregnancy#the ONE ASPECT that you decided was shared between both ''male'' and ''female'' skeletons#it's also like. objectively an argument that is leveraged to hurt and deny trans people irl so it was just. unbelievably uncomfortable#this is what we mean with mpreg and transphobia btw#not that the concept is inherently transphobic or hurtful to trans people#but that that kind of alternative biological worldbuilding implies an alternative social conception of gender role for the characters#that a lot of authors just. straight up miss. because their view of the world is still very cis/perisexist#BUT!!!!!!!!!!#it was still over all a very good fic. I'd rec it to pll not into that for the initial 2 chapters alone
57 notes · View notes
mrgaretcarter · 2 years
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
vigilskeep · 1 month
Note
Whenever I think about your Keir I think about Bethany telling Anders he reminds her of Malcom. I’m sure that won’t ever affect Keir ever.
bethany is my favourite mage bc she never misses with that psychic damage
but really he and anders aren’t even a thing in act 1 so it’s less like “PLEASE stop comparing my crush to our father” and more like “oh fuck off i spend my entire life trying to act like our dad and one (1) mage rolls up and suddenly he’s dad??”
#the bethany anders keir weirdness about malcolm is so real#because bethany says ‘you remind me of him (generally positive)’ in act 1#but in later acts i think she’s still seeing the same thing just with a different uhhh mindset#seeing the way her dad wanted her to be something she wasnt and strive for something she was never sure was worth the sacrifice#how he tried to make decisions about what was best for other people. how he risked lives etc#whereas anders also has his own perception of malcolm which i think is quite... idealised#it means a lot to him that a mage raised a family that loved him. and hes envious of it#but thats definitely a standard anders is making up. if anders and malcolm really met we’d have to cast a barrier between them within five#minutes. for their own safety.#whereas keir in some ways saw a more complete version of his father from the beginning#but he also believes those more uhh flawed abrasive damaging sides are necessary. of course he does he repeats them#his father may not have been the easiest man in the world to live with but he always did what he had to#and kept his word and held himself to the same standards as others#but oh wait here’s the legacy dlc with the steel chair—#anyway my point being that u get these 3 in a room and theyre talking abt 3 entirely different malcolms. carnage#i dont think it would naturally occur to keir to compare anders to malcolm#but hed be like. ‘i GUESS?’ when bethany said it#honestly anders one of the things that’s kind of disillusioning abt malcolm bc like#i mean say what you like about my man anders but he was never all talk#not to dismiss the courage it took for malcolm to escape & raise a family#but thats one thing. insisting on using your abilities to help people & to go BACK for those still in the circle is kind of another#a lot of dialogue implying malcolm talked a big game about mage rights#but apart from raising a daughter who hates herself what did he actually do.#sorry thats mean but you see my point#and its not just justice that makes anders like that. sure he was more scared and hopeless about the circle#but his instincts are to help. you wouldnt catch malcolm going back to help against darkspawn even when told to run#and my malcolms also. gruff. stoic. serious. a man of few words. he does not do bits or tell you about his cat#if keir hears bethany compare anders to malcolm and at all agrees it’s not really anything about personality#he’s saying yeah i guess anders does seem like a good mage and a good man. thats the only commonality he would jump to#these tags got incredibly away from me
33 notes · View notes
flashbic · 3 days
Note
do 2 + 12 for le lorrain pls 🥺✌️ good morning
2. Favorite canon thing about this character?
That he's 100% one of the good guys but ALSO that he's allowed to be a bit of a jerk! I love that while he says he regrets what he did to Falconi, just a few hours earlier he's right there, literally taunting him about it and being a dick. We know he still lies to ladies for attention! Despite how well that went the one time! In that other ep his dad is literally asking for his help, and sure he wants to help, but he was actually still going to say no before Cartouche stopped him because he was more focused on keeping his identity as a Cartouchien secret.
He's a nice, smart guy, and he comes off as smooth so it's not as easy to notice, but you kinda get the impression that he hasn't completely lost the asshole vibes! And i think that makes for a fun character!
(special mention to the one bit where he walks next to Demachault and messes up his wig Just For Funsies, it's so gratuitous and i just think it's funny ok)
12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?
Bisexual le Lorrain REAL. I like the idea that those aren't feelings he ever really did anything about, because ultimately he likes flirting with ladies a whole lot and that's enough for him… but maybe he had some confused feelings for his bestie Cartouche for a little bit, and maybe that's part of what made him tag along when they first met.
In general i don't really consider that orientation as something that would've influenced the way he treated Falconi back when they were rivals; for the most part i like to think that he saw that relationship more as competition initially, and that things turned sour because he couldn't stand having someone he thought of as beneath him beating him at anything. Also i see him typically being more attracted to people who are outgoing, funny and talkative, and Falconi being generally none of those things wouldn’t have helped asdfjgk (the fun point being that maybe Falconi could've been a little bit more like that if he hadn't felt like people were constantly antagonizing him)
My other headcanon is that he’s a single child ans is absolutely a mama’s boy <3 She taught him music (canon!) and maybe spoiled him a little too much.
10 notes · View notes
good-beans · 7 months
Note
hi i'd like to know about your transfem fuuta thoughts please. if that's ok
"if that's ok" as if I haven't been rotating transfem fuuta in my mind for a long time and dying for an excuse to post something 👀👀👀 Thank you so much Ah!! I was able to format my little ideas and headcanons into an actual write-up, I just love this concept so much! All the big murderous twists in the series and I’ll never get over it is what it is...
Tumblr media
So, as much as I enjoy headcanons about some big revelation moment, I think that Fuuta Terminally Online Kajiyama has been very aware of his identity for a while. He just never really got the motivation to do anything about it. He knows he's not completely satisfied with his gender, but isn't constantly suffering over it, so he thinks telling people/transitioning would be way too much of a hassle at that point in his life. He also struggles with people taking him seriously given his height, attitude, etc -- unconsciously he's also worried it will only make matters worse in that area.
He wouldn't dare say anything to his parents, and wants to avoid hassle with his friends. People paint them as judgy incels sometimes, but if they were really calling out ‘bad guys’ online, I always got the vibe they were those annoying type of progressives who will harass people for not being accepting in the perfect correct way, you know? They'd be outwardly supportive but there's still a level of high expectations and performance that comes with it, and so deep down Fuuta understands there'd be a "hassle," but can't really define why.
I mentioned in another hc post that Fuuta and his sister have a silent supportive relationship. I feel like she's the one person in his life who knows everything and is super accepting -- this is understood even though neither have said anything out loud. (When he was younger, she definitely forced him into skirts, dresses, and accessories "to check something for her beautician work.") She's noticed all the times he's picked a female avatar in games, or cosplayed in ambiguous outfits.
Then, Milgram. Thinking his life will be over soon anyway, he opens up to a few of the prisoners about himself. Their unexpected openness keeps it on his mind more often than before. Still, nothing changes. Through some rocky verdicts, he's declared innocent and released.
Back in the real world, he's pretty fucked up from the whole ordeal, and starts off extremely isolated. He's in touch with his family, but distant. He maintains contact with some of the other released prisoners, but it starts off only over the phone. He changes schools or maybe drops out completely. Having deleted all online accounts after the incident, he gets to work setting up a new online presence. He was planning on using an alias anyways, and goes with something gender neutral. "To be extra safe that no one guesses it's me," he tells himself.
Letting his hair grow out begins as an accident -- just a side effect of never going out or minding his appearance. One day he realizes how long he's let it go and grabs some scissors to cut it. He makes a comment in his chat, and someone begs him to send a picture first. He goes to take it, but is suddenly disgusted and ashamed of his self-neglect. He's forced to make himself selfie presentable first: brushing his hair and throwing on something clean real quick. When he goes to take the picture, he realizes it looks good. It feels good. He puts the scissors away.
Soon, the prisoners/some new online friends coax Fuuta to hang out more. That's when she decides to reintroduce herself into society as someone new. She ventures out with the name of a favorite video game character. (I'm going to continue saying Fuuta because I genuinely can't name a single popular character from games she'd play, but just picture the most painfully obvious one you can. The kind you hear and go "oh okay. You play X too much, huh." And please send me your thoughts so I can work them into my own personal canon 👀) 
She doesn't have any hatred towards her deadname, it's more the pain of association: she remembers it said accusingly from the mouths of ex-friends. She remembers that name being called a murderer. She's not trying to deny/run from that past, she just wants to be someone better. Well, some days it is her way of running away, but most of the time it's a healthy separation from the past.
Encouraged by the positive reception and abundance of privacy in her isolation, she finally starts to explore her appearance more. Mikoto left behind some earrings during a visit -- she pierces her ears herself and tries them on. (If she doesn't like them, the holes will just heal, right? She's not weak, she can take a little pain...) Yuno/Mahiru stayed over once, and left a bit of makeup in the bathroom. She tries that on too. With a beautician in the family, this self-styling comes very easily. Fuuta's cowardly tendencies have her torn between embarrassment and her typical 'fuck you' attitude that she can do whatever she wants.
You know when you solve a tiny problem and suddenly you're smacked with how much of a huge problem it actually was? Fuuta never believed she had any issues before, but all of the sudden she's happier. Every day is easier. She has more friends. True friends. She does better with school/work. Her personality is still fiery, but it's more passion than irritability now. Self-hatred she didn't recognize starts melting away. She smiles more. She laughs more. She has plans for her future. She's excited about her future. 
(Shameless art plug hehe, before I had the timeline nailed down I did a little drawing of that selfie Fuuta takes when she realizes she's satisfied with this appearance, and now has newfound motivation to move forward in life.)
Over time she experiments with other elements of transitioning, and maybe changes her name to something a bit more subtle lol.
Unfortunately, I don't think it would go over well with her parents, but she never much cared for their opinions, anyway. One day a bit in the future, she bumps into her old friends in the street. Once recovering from panic, she's pleasantly surprised that they don't recognize her. Fuuta thought her appearance/fashion wasn't that different, but to fair, the friends figured they'd remember a stunning redhead with a very noticeable eye injury if they'd met before...
And just a few quick prisoner reactions (because in my heart they're all making it out ;--;):
Yuno has similar relationship as Fuuta's sister, offering immense help without unnecessary words. She's Fuuta’s go-to contact for trying new things and asking questions. 
When Mahiru first finds out, she goes a bit overboard with a makeover attempt. She and Muu provide their most frilly, glimmering outfits. They paint her nails and do makeup. They style her hair. This obviously turns out to be way too much, earning them a Fuuta-typical rant. Still, she's secretly moved by their enthusiasm and kindness. 
After that, designer Mikoto tries his hand at helping. Fuuta had been really worried the two of them would lose their guys nights out and relaxed friendship, but their relationship never changes.
Shidou is very accepting and very awkward. He's trying!! He gets excited, sending her all this information and help for medically transitioning.
Fuuta invites Kazui to their first pride parade <3
Though there's no return address on the package, Fuuta receives a gift of miscellaneous earrings and piercings in the mail with a note that they'd suit her well…
28 notes · View notes
skenpiel · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
and here is the line that made everybody mischaracterize kanaya until the end of time as some sort of Fancy Regal Lady who Drinks Tea and not a Complete And Utter Maniac. she literally talks like papyrus like wtf
85 notes · View notes
zestys-world · 1 year
Text
Ei not wanting to make Scaramouche suffer because she saw him cry and thought "oh no. I don't want cruelty to break him." But Scaramouche taking it as "I'm not strong enough"
53 notes · View notes
Text
Been trying to write an analysis on Sasaki and the ending of Entrance Exam for days now and it just wasn't turning out so I deleted it... maybe another time when I can formulate a thought properly...
The only part I'll put here for now was the bit about my amusement with Dazai and Sasaki clearly near instantly realizing the other is a threat, which changed the way I read the scene of them chatting in the booth after she stayed the night. It probably boiled down to:
*sweetly smiling at each other* "oh this asshole has got to go"
Actually I went on an unorganized ramble in the tags so read that if you're interested in my Sasaki thoughts. Maybe I'll clean it up one day and make it proper.
#i've never seen anyone talk about her in depth so i thought it'd be fun; i really like her actually there was a lot of (wasted) potential#but my brain said no apparently#she has obvious implications for kunikida's character#but i wanted to talk a little about her dynamic with dazai and the paralleling between them#a seeker of justice who actually does not care much about justice and has no real personal ambition#merely acting in the memory of someone with much more strongly held values#she's also pretty cool i mean she has no ability and is quite intelligent#manages to puppeteer everything on her own simply through her skill at reading people and being selective with info#and yet is described as a puppet herself multiple times#and it was heavily heavily implied she wanted answers on what to do with herself and all her painful feelings towards the world#and dazai saw shooting her as 'kindness'#even as she was midway through telling kunikida#that she was happy when kunikida saved her even though it was all a set up#also i wanted to bring up how there's a really important difference between kunikida and the azure king#they're uncomfortably similar in some ways but very different in others#the point was that the azure king is to kunikida (if he valued ideals over people - the darkest path)#as sasaki is to dazai (if he'd been given no direction after losing his most important person - the darkest path)#it's more complicated than that and definitely not 1 to 1 but i stand by this interpretation#the main difference being that perception of humanity in self and others that is the running theme of this series#realized i paralleled a romantic couple to these two#does this count as kunikidazai lol#ugh anyways eventually i will write this i hope#storyrambles#also i know the point is that her and rokuzou died i know the point is the deaths were pointless#but what if she lived? what if she too got to find a reason to keep going in the face of grief and apathy?#and the continued conflict this could give kunikida too#something something the clash of different ideals of justice and how what is 'right' isn't so clear cut#but eventually he sticks to his belief that it is his ideal that no more people die if he can do something about it#this is so stupidly self-indulgent and an impossible scenario and probably i am the only one who finds it interesting but whatever#i think her living would've made things very very complicated but it's interesting to think about
32 notes · View notes
mejomonster · 8 months
Text
As I get older and older I more tangibly realize why queer individuals in older generations than mine might prefer words I wouldn't use for myself, and likewise why younger generations preferences would be different too. Like it was always clear you know, a person knows their identity best and what labels they prefer best and even if you don't get it you should respect it. But I guess the older I get the more I realize I really don't know and never can know the background another person has for their perceptions and meaning for labels and why something in particular helps them to use or not
#rant#lgbt#...........................................................................................................................................#i just. so im alive in the time i guess when i saw trans identities barely discussed like even in educational material i didnt#hear about gender identity until i dug deep. to people now using transmasc and transfemme as labels. labels i dont understand and know#i dont. i presume they mean trans people who identify with masculinity or femininity? but i think im probably wrong#because ive seen transmen call themselves transmasc and it confuses me. because a transman can be a very feminine person who loves makeup#so. one cannot say transmasc and actually Mean all trans men. a transfemme does Not include all transwomen because transwomen can be butch#and reject femininity. so like... from my outdated perception i see it as the cis straight societal gender expectations of men MUST be masc#women MUST be femme which. i hate. becayse i specifically feel all people should and can be whatever they want.#any man can be feminine any woman can be masculine any person can be any range on that and change daily and do what they want#and their gender is still valid. and then like. theres ppl like me. im nonbinary. im a pretty feminine guy#im a fairly masculine woman. i dont think i could even fit into transmasc or transfemme labels.#i do think those labels help and suit people who like them. if i met a nonbinary lipstick lesbian perhapa#transfemme would help her xommunicate how she feels. but those words dont help me they are boxes i cant fit inside#and i get why they exist but its like. cool. now i get why transman needs to be preserved Outside of transmasc. because feminine trans men#still need space. i get why masculinjty and femininity need to mean something clearly Separate from gender itself or we loose the ability#to express the range of gender expression in qll areas. i dont know what transexual means but now i realize why a person older than me#may LIKE that label and cling to it. because it may communicqte something For Them that helps them in a#way that was lost to understanding by my generation. in a way that the terms no longer useful for my self identity but is for them.#in the way that trans man and nonbinary fit me but i could never be fit within the labels of transmasc or transfem etc#and in the way that for some people transmasc etc labels will fit Them and Help in a way a label like transman never can. and so on
4 notes · View notes
eye-in-the-wall · 3 months
Text
just overheard my mom say that i act like a know it all lmao, like huh? she says i act like i know everything like when?? have i ever????
0 notes