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nemesis-is-my-middle-name · 2 years

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What if Arthur was fixing something on the train and the depot agent who was supposed to be in the car with him stepped out real quick right before Vivi came in, so she thought *he* was her opponent and tried to battle him? She was really, really sorry afterward, because he had gotten really freaked out when she tossed out a pokemon to try and battle poor little Galahad. They became friends after she insisted on making it up to him, maybe by taking him to Lewis's restaurant? Yes, let him feed the zoruas!! That's so cute, him being like well now I gotta feed them, they're family. I don't think Ingo has like a full kitchen or anything, though I could see there maybe being a communal one in each of the clans and Beni has one in Jubilife, but he's still gotta make food. He probably has like pots and utensils and a way to make the snacks wardens apparently make for their nobles, at the very least, so I'm sure Lewis could figure out how to do something with that.

Oooh, I love the idea of Mystery getting frenzied and changing type because of it! They probably didn't do anything like that in the games because they thought it'd be too much to have bosses that are both new variants and gain a frenzy form the player can't get. But for Mystery, we could say that the reason he does but they don't is because he's an ultra beast, so power that strong didn't mesh well with him, as he's not native to this universe. Or maybe he's just a regular legendary not an ultra beast, but the original nobles were given a sort of divine tolerance to it that was passed down to subsequent generations.

Okay, so, if we go with Ingo disappearing in the middle of a work day, what could also have happened was that something broke and Ingo called Arthur to ask about it, but Arthur was being possessed by Giratina at the time and was kinda fading in and out, not really sure what was happening. Giratina/Volo was like this is great timing and used Arthur to tell Ingo to come see him in his office or wherever. Ingo goes and doesn't tell anyone where he's going or bring his pokemon, because why would he he's not leaving the station or doing anything potentially dangerous, and when he gets there Arthur is nearly unconscious, just barely aware enough for Giratina to tell when Ingo approaches him to check if he's okay, and completely passes out when giratina pulls more energy from him to open the rift under Ingo. When Arthur wakes up, he doesn't remember telling Ingo to come see him or Ingo arriving, but he does think he vaguely recalls Ingo calling him for some reason. Maybe he goes to call him back, but Ingo never picks up so he's like, okay guess he didn't after all and it was Arthur's imagination, until it turns out a little later that no one knows where Ingo is at all. I don't think Arthur is like, a suspect or anything, but chandelure can probably get a sense of giratina's ghost residue on Arthur and in his office, and so is weird about him for a while, which makes him nervous for a number of reasons.

My guess for what keeps giving him away, given what he looks like and does in the videos vs what zoroarks look like and can do, is that he tends to get wispy around the edges, especially his hair, like how the zoroarks have wisps coming off of their bodies and wispy manes. That and he's pretty open about using like, shadow ball and, when taking about Arthur, bitter malice. I thought I remembered reading on bulbapedia that the zoruas can make illusions of a person's worst fears and make them so scared it drives them insane or something, which I think is where that fanon that they can read minds comes from, because otherwise how would they know what shape to take. It's not there anymore though, so I could be wrong or misremembering things. But if he could, yes I think he would try to see if he could do something to help. Although I'm willing to bet Ingo's Alakazam has already tried that and failed.

Lmao Emmet would be so offended. They seriously think that he couldn't take *Arthur*, who is so visibly exhausted he looks ready to fall over or nod off at any given moment and only has a single, level 4 pokemon. Not to say that Arthur doesn't have some strength to him, he's a mechanic he kinda has to, but this is definitely not Arthur at his best and in any case no matter how strong he is he's no match for any of Emmet's pokemon, let alone all of them. If he did somehow manage to kill Emmet I'm pretty sure he wouldn't even get two steps before chandelure flash fried him with a full strength overheat, to say nothing of what the others might do.

I bet Emmet has to spend like half their trip just taking breaks to make sure Arthur eats the snacks he packed and drinks plenty of water, so he doesn't pass out. Arthur wants to go go go, and so does Emmet! But Emmet also wants his employee to not die, so he has to be a responsible adult and rein Arthur in. Both are chafing at the idea that this is wasting their time, but unfortunately Arthur can't be trusted not to work past him limits, which is dangerous! The upside is that all the extremely hostile pokemon around make Arthur very disinclined to wander off without him, so Emmet doesn't have to worry about him doing something stupid like sneaking off in the middle of the night. Arthur's insomnia is so bad though that Emmet is probably tempted to catch something that can learn hypnosis, just so Arthur can get some *sleep*.

Oh man, the distortion bubbles must freak Arthur the fuck out then, even just seeing them from the distance. But yeah, I can definitely see Arthur's trauma getting swapped to both distortions and giratina. Even if he doesn't quite know what giratina was doing or that it was giratina doing it, he was possessed by it long enough the first time that his body probably still remembers what the thing draining him felt like, even if his mind doesn't. If he ever got close to giratina again he might be able to tell that this is something that hurt him before, and even possibly that it's linked to the distortion world, if his connection to ghost vibes is strong enough to sense it.

arthur panics and gets his wires VERY crossed and just full force throws what he's holding at her which happens to be a whole ass wrench. it's fine tho bc she parries it flawlessly. and it DOES make for a great conversation starter. and yess!! ooh that's true about the wardens making offerings for their nobles, i forgot about that. if we've all agreed to collectively pretend that the ride pokemon are nobles then it would stand to reason that they also have somewhere to prepare offerings. (although... iirc iscan does have you make food for basculegion and he just does it like, outside his house. but still)

YESS!! idk how i feel about him being an ultra beast, bc those are like... beings from outside reality and idk if that matches him very well? i feel like a normal legendary/mythical makes more sense with the fact that he is a mythical being in canon. anyway though. yeah i get why it didn't work in canon but augh it would be so cool... maybe there would be some kind of mechanism where like, if you go into a space-time distortion you can forme change them? or there's an item you can collect from the distortions that works like the other forme change items do? OR you literally just use the griseous core on them.

ok yeah "arthur, while possessed, called ingo over to look at/deal with something, ingo didn't bother bringing his pokemon or anything bc it didn't ping as unusual at all, then he got rift-grabbed but since nobody really noted his going at the time and arthur has no memory of it happening, nobody really connects arthur with him disappearing at all" that's a good explanation i think. and re: chandelure hmmm what i was more thinking is if chandelure knows what happened it would probably be trying to just tell anyone about it, and if arthur's spirit sensitive then he'd probably be a primary target for the HEY HEY LISTEN, but chandelure actually sensing that he's been possessed and being unable to tell anyone that is also very fun.

ooh yeah, him sort of becoming wispy/looking like spirit flame around the edges would be a very fitting tell. that and the moves yeah lol his shadow does some Funny Stuff when he talks about arthur. and. man, yeah, now that i'm thinking about it i have no idea where the idea that zoroark can read memories comes from. why did we all just absorb and accept that as fanon?? is it an anime thing that unovan zoroark can also do?? did one person just make it up for the angst and then it got perpetuated throughout fanspace? is there some throwaway trivia line that i'm forgetting?? i feel like it predates daybreak which is the only time they're mentioned in the game to my knowledge, so what gives?

anyway. yeah lol. not that lewis wouldn't just hear that and go "NO, that's what he WANTS you to think, he's using deception and getting you to let your guard down-" but emmet's like. that requires a level of brain function that i don't think he currently has. and yeah if he was actually going around murdering people chandelure would have IMMOLATED him by now, i think it can probably tell if a person's done a murder

qhqkjhqjk yeah. i feel like they're sort of on opposite ends of the spectrum here where arthur's on a 24/7 rollercoaster and emmet's just like. temporarily suspended emotions.exe so he can be a Functional Adult and find ingo and not get killed by a stray garchomp. so he is very much the one herding arthur at this point lol. bad news if the universe does manage to separate them, though

yeah i mean. i feel like... if arthur punched a hole in spacetime to get to the past, he probably already knows about giratina and the distortions to some extent? bc otherwise how would he know to like. do that. he might not have figured it out until the second possession, but he must have some idea what he's doing at this point, right. BUT. yeah. that's not gonna be a fun time

#the nemesis speaks #the nemesis answers #anonymous #msaxpla

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timingmatters · 1 year

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i think you’re very right about all of the ways that the bucktaylor relationship was failing because of buck, but i feel like your analysis missed the key point which was that the relationship was a device used specifically to break buck out of his “clinger” role

in season five is dynamic with maddie was all about the fact that he stays too long and she runs too early, so their respective romantic arcs reflected the changes they both needed to make in order to fix those flaws in their persons

i disagree with the idea that taylor was faultless for the jonah thing but that’s just my opinion and you can have yours, however the important takeaway from that i think was that buck finally realized he needed to walk away from something, even if it was comfortable and easy. i don’t think it matters if taylor was objectively or ethically right, so much as what she did was wrong in bucks eyes and he needed that in order to finally realize he’s capable of walking away. (because both him and taylor were clingers, neither of them could step out of that toxic toxic relationship, someone had to break first)

i do think it was shitty to use the taylor kelly character in this way as nothing more than a plot device for bucks character development but on the other hand this show has given us no evidence that they’re capable of doing anything else with that man’s love interests lmao

I mean i don’t disagree lmao. I agree Taylor as well as any other girl (including lucy) that comes into contact with buck are just plot devices for his character arc. That doesn’t annoy me too much because i think you can say the same with most assemble shows?? If you aren’t a main with your own storyline, chances are you are just a character used for plot device to make the main character grow🤷🏽‍♀️ is not a rule but you surely see it in most assemble shows. Especially when its not an ongoing drama show (like idk gossip girl or money heist). 911 is a show with some season long arcs and ongoing storylines, but overall is a kinda ep by ep has different storylines. Is not one main story like idk stranger things. (Does that make sense??). So them using characters as plot devices isn’t surprising at all?? I just think they could then have made taylor be actually morally wrong??? Or selfish??? I dont even think they were in a toxic relationship lmao. Is as simple as he liked her and she loved him. And he wasn’t willing to put in the work in the relationship the way she was. All their fights were because of him, the moment she pissed HIM off he called it off. Idk if i would call that growing even if he accepted walking away for once.

And like as a buddie shipper i do gotta say, all buck’s growth comes from his interactions with eddie and chris lmao. With taylor he was just an ass.

But beyond all that, me defendinf taylor doesn’t come from me shitting the writers. I think the way she was portrayed as bad and buck as rightful at the end was shitty, but what pisses me off is people’s reaction lol. The way that Taylor’s character is called egotistical by some fans when like arguably she put aside too much of her pride to console buck’s ego. I said it with another anon but is not even the cheating. Buck admitting he asked her to move in because he feared being alone and not out of love was enough for me if i had been taylor to drop glitter in all his shit, key his car, and leave lmao. Which is ooc for taylor because she was such an independent character. What do you mean she didn’t leave???? Or even the fight at the end would have been better if after he said something had to change they would have broken up because taylor could have refused to want change and then buck walks away. But not even??? Taylor had said “fine lets change it” and then buck walked away regardless.

Its the ending for them that made me mad bc even if it needed to happen, it was just bad how they did it. And i didnt even like them together like shdjdjdjd its just the audacity of men like i WANTED to side with buck but I couldn’t bc i know damn well if taylor were my friend in real life i would have keyd buck’s car lol

The relationship wasn’t toxic it just wasn’t right. The same amount of effort wasn’t there by both parties. He fucks up and she forgives him, she fucked up (in his eyes) once and then he immediately dropped her. He said they go in circles with their first fight but???? They had that fight before they were ever in a relationship??? And then he agreed he knew what he was getting into but thought what??? He could change her???? Again it wasn’t toxic. The relationship did not hurt buck like lets be real. It just fucked up taylor. Girl got cheated on, lied to, manipulated into leaving her apt (they talked about selling or giving away things they had doubles of, which means she prob lost some things too), and then broken up the first time she made him mad like lmao. I still wouldn’t say it wasn’t toxic because is not like they were becoming other people or doing worse with each other. The relationship simply wasn’t right. And i wanted them to break up. Just wish taylor had at least call him out or stood her ground at the end, not immediately fold just for her to be dropped either ways.

(But i love what you said about his storyline mirroring maddie’s!!!)

#I WOULD!!!!#would have signed up his phone number to like 2848484848484884 of those automated ad calls #I WOULD HAVE SIGNED UP HIM FOR 38(848484857574 subscriptions like #buck was the enemy here i am sORRY #911onfox #911 show #evan buck buckely

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tenderlyrenjun · 2 years

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Lmao also i just wanted ti say my comments/reblog stuff are no pressure i just wanted to moan about it bc grrrr bark bark renjunnn (also may or not be having a growing thing w/someone irl and sidjajsksakkandnsja im going crazy)

ah, i … haven’t read through tags or comments on reblogs lately; I don’t think there are any except yours tbh

but, i just generally really like those story ideas, especially the strangers to rivals to friends to almost lovers to enemies back to strangers to maybe friends then finally to lovers (this is the museum curator x artist grad school au; I’m pretty sure everyone can see the psychological projection here) — it’s technically (in my WIP) called Would’ve, Should’ve, Could’ve, which is, fun fact, based on that thing English teachers would say — this is, like, another layer of depth for the fic because they’re each other’s teachers/mentors, essentially, and then, like, would’ve is, like, “part 1” where they hate each other based off each other’s specialties and they have to kind of get over that; then should’ve is “part 2” when minghao introduces the bombshell relocation to Shanghai; then could’ve is “part 3” where they reconnect, back in Korea and then etc etc etc the reader follows him to China for awhile etc etc etc stuff happens, open-ended ending about where they live/fly back and forth through. And then, there’s a mild sequel where they fight about where to live, all the flying around the world, both of them hardly ever seeing each other because they’re both so successful and “here’s an out” “I’m not spending a year away from you again” “it’s not a break; it’s an out” “you think our relationship ran its course? how could you” “I still love you … but …” etc etc etc

the biker au (it’s called jacket; I feel like this is obvious why because whatever jacket he wears is kinda like an armor, in his opinion, and a trophy, in the reader’s opinion) is more, like, what happens when you catch someone’s eye in the middle of a situationship (his, obviously; he’s almost dating someone else, which is the person (!!!!!) the reader brings up when they sleep together). I really like this idea but I don’t have, like, a full plot for it; it’s mostly just the reader doesn’t have a car because it broke down; renjun ran into her; they hang out at the bus stop awhile, everyday really, after the reader’s class; they’re seen by everyone around campus; the reader gets her car fixed; renjun doesn’t know this and goes back for a week and a half but the reader’s not there; the reader goes back after 2 weeks, Renjun’s not there; reader “stalks him” but he has her blocked (failed situationship); yangyang motivating pep talk; reader goes to find renjun behind the language department then sees him with someone else; they don’t talk At All through the next week; renjun sees the reader at the library and almost says hello but sees karina and backs off; they finally meet again, by accident, near the bus stop when the reader let yangyang borrow her car; they talk, they sleep together, renjun almost leaves his jacket but decides to actually stay this time; they confess in the morning, etc etc etc., but it’s not, like, a real plot or anything.

I’m always happy to talk about renjun ;-; I have a lot of love and admiration (and general knowledge and photocards) about him ;-;,

congrats on your forming relationship!!! ^^

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looooooooomis · 3 years

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F I N A L G I R L | S E V E N

You were his final girl. And there was no chance in hell that anyone or anything was going to mess that up.

p a r t s e v e n | b l o o d

masterlist here

pairing: Billy Loomis x f!reader word count: 6k warnings: s m u t (18 +!!!!!) lets just say this gif is a teaser as to what takes place in this chapter. major blood kink in this chapter. period play?? lmao sorry about it.

There was a shift after that weekend at Billy’s cabin, and you knew he felt it too.

It was never really that casual between you and Billy, that much you knew, but there was something that changed when the two of you got back to Woodsboro. There was something to be said about being able to openly show affection to the person you loved, to hold them and kiss them in public and you’d gotten that treatment in that little lakeside town. You felt like Billy’s actual girlfriend, not his plaything, not the bitch who was backstabbing her own best friend for a fucking boy, you were it.

And while Billy had always said that you were his girl, you hadn’t truly felt like you were until now.

Which was precisely what made tonight so fucking awkward.

Not only had you been coerced into going to the movies with the gang but, unbeknownst to you, Sid had taken it upon herself to fix you up on a blind date with one of Randy’s annoying friends from the video store.

Why had you agreed to this? You were a cold, calculating bitch behind the scenes when it came to fucking your best friend boyfriend and yet saying ‘no thanks, I’m not up for it tonight’ was beyond you? Were you just plain stupid or a closet masochist that thrived on dicey situations?

Either way, you’d never wanted to throw yourself into oncoming traffic more than you did tonight because not only were you trapped into an uncomfortable blind date with a guy you were fairly sure was frothing at the mouth at the idea of getting you alone in the car after all of this was said and done but you just so happened to be seated directly next to Billy.

You were smack dab in the middle of hell. Between a man you were fucking, a man you were disgustingly in love with and had just spent a weekend away with and a man you’d just met today but couldn’t stop playing handsy on your lap whenever he thought the others weren’t looking.

But Billy was always looking.

You knew that better than anyone. He had this innate sense of finding you in a crowded room. You could feel the weight of his brown eyes on you nearly every second of the day, soaking you up, taking every inch of you in, no matter who was around and tonight, as your ‘date’ smacked on his popcorn all the while feeling your thigh up any chance he could, Billy’s dept stare was tuned in and you knew it.

This had to have been karma. Karma for going away and having a beautiful weekend away with the guy you loved so wholly. The one whose girlfriend was on the other side of him with her pretty head on his stupid shoulder as you suffered in silence at just how fucking laughable this entire situation was.

“See that actress?” Your date, Anthony, whispered into your hear. He smelled like movie theatre butter. You wanted to scream. “Have you seen any of her other stuff?”

You were watching The Crucible and the actress in question was Winona Ryder. Everyone and their left nut had seen Winona Ryder in at least a dozen movies. Frowning, you blinked across at the man and blinked. “Yeah. I’m familiar with her work.”

Focusing ahead on the movie, you tried your damnedest to focus on what was going on but when you felt his slithery palm slide up your thigh, you were this close to pouring your Coke on his lap. Why the fuck had you agreed to this?

Pushing the man’s hand away as subtly as you could to avoid any unwanted attention from your friends, you bit down on the side of your mouth and heaved a quiet sigh. You deserved this. This was your punishment.

“She’s hot.” Your lovely date quipped, squeezing the area of your thigh just above your knee. “In that goth-girl next door kind of way.”

Was he getting off to Winona Ryder all the while coming on to you? Was he picturing Winona as he squeezed your thigh? You truly didn’t want to find out. Once again, you pushed his hand away and, this time, crossed your legs and leaned into the arm rest you were sharing with Billy.

The move was subtle, and you were barely even touching Billy but you needed to create a distance between yourself and Butter Fingers if it was the last thing you did.

With a subtle nudge to your arm, Billy’s eyes flickered towards you as his brows furrowed in question. The muscle in his jaw was pulsing in his cheek, that you could see even in the darkness of the movie theatre, and there was murder in his eyes as he sized up the man just over your shoulder. It was as though you could feel his blood pressure spike just looking at the guy and, as you held your breath, silently pleading with him not to make a scene that would undoubtedly give the two of you up, those brown eyes slowly found yours.

There was anger in his eyes, a palpable rage, but it was the look of pure despondency in his stare that made your own heart break. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. He wasn’t supposed to be holding hands with Sid and you weren’t meant to be dealing with the idiot to your right.

How it felt up at the cabin, the freedom of loving each other and holding each other and kissing each other in broad daylight was how it was supposed to be. How love was supposed to feel.

Not this.

You were both hiding in plain sight. Putting on a façade to your friends, to each other whilst in public, and it was in that moment, in the middle of a crowded theatre, looking at each other knowing there wasn’t a damn thing either of you could do about it, that you felt that pain so intensely that it was hard to breathe.

Tears burned behind your eyes and you hated yourself for it.

You weren’t going to cry. You refused to cry over a situation you were willingly putting yourself in. This entire thing could have been avoided had you had a stronger backbone here. You weren’t the victim in this scenario. That was Sid. Sid was the one completely getting fucked over in this situation, not you. You had no damn right to feel this shitty because you were doing it to yourself.

This was just the high of the weekend wearing off and reality settling in. Until circumstances changed, this was your norm.

Swallowing back your nerves, it was all you could do to give Billy a small, barely-there smile before focusing ahead on the movie.

“I’m going to grab us another Coke,” you heard Billy say to Sidney. “Anyone want anything?”

“More popcorn,” Stu waggled his empty bag. “Maybe some Milk Duds, man.”

“Candy.” Tatum mumbled, not taking her eyes off of the screen. “Surprise me, I don’t care what kind.”

Billy nodded and took Stu’s money before he gently nudged you. “You want anything?”

You opened your mouth to speak but was cut off but Anthony. “You mind keeping it down, buddy?” He popped another handful of popcorn in his mouth. “We’re at the movies, not here for snacks.”

It was as though Billy’s wrath was physical as his dark eyes scraped over Anthony’s face. His mouth was pulled into a thin, hard line as Anthony’s pompousness sank in. Why couldn’t it be Randy beside you? Why had that dipshit agreed to take this asshole’s shift in order for you to go on a blind date with him? This entire fiasco could have been avoided had it been Randy.

“Yeah, I could use a drink.” You slinked out of your seat. “I’ll help you carry everything back.”

You didn’t wait for Billy as you marched down the aisle but, as you walked down the stairs and out of the theatre, you weren’t at all surprised to see him broody and annoyed as he followed you out.

“If anyone should be looking like that, it’s me,” you groused, falling in to step beside him as you made your way to the snack bar. “I’m stuck on a date with that asshole.”

“Don’t get me started on that,” he grumbled, grabbing his wallet out of his back pocket. “I told Sid to leave well enough alone, but she insisted.”

You hummed and lined up at the concession. “Lucky me.”

Again, you felt his stare before you actually lulled your head to the side to face him. Intense, searching eyes sweeping over your features in both concern and possible envy. “One word,” he muttered, stepping closer towards you. Too close. Not because you didn’t want him that close but because you were in public. Sid and Tatum and Stu and fucking Anthony were a stone’s throw away. “One word from you, baby, and I’ll take you home. Fuck that guy.”

You glowered across at him as though he’d grown a second head. “While I appreciate the sentiment, shit for brains, we’re in public right now. Your girlfriend could walk out any second and see or hear you.”

He seemed to mull over your words for a second but didn’t bother moving away from you. “Maybe I don’t care.”

“You do,” you rhymed off, shuffling closer to the front of the snack bar.

He ignored that. “Also, you’re my girlfriend. Stop calling her that.”

This was not a conversation the two of you should have been having in the middle of a fucking movie theatre. Looking across at him, you raised your brows and blew out a puff of air through your lips. Trying to keep up with Billy’s rationale of staying with Sid to ensure he doesn’t hurt her any further after her mother’s death all the while being with you was giving you whiplash. You knew he loved you and, begrudgingly, you loved him right back. And, a part of you knew, that he was struggling with being back in the real world just as much as you were since coming home from the cabin.

But this was not how he should have been handling it. Not out in the open like this. Especially while you were on a triple date with your friends in a theatre down the hall.

“Billy,” you muttered quietly, ensuring no one was listening in, “please let’s talk about this later. Not here. Not now. Let’s just get the fucking concessions and go, okay?”

He licked his lips and you watched his brown eyes flitter down your face before briefly looking at your own lips. He wanted to kiss you and fuck, did you want to be kissed by him.

But that wasn’t the deal.

So, instead, you watched as he took a hesitant step away from you before nodding his head once. “Yeah, okay,” he agreed, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked down at his shoes. “Tonight.”

“Sure,” you smirked, “I mean, if I’m not with Anthony, that is.” You almost laughed at how wide his eyes got as you uttered those words. But, when he saw the playfulness in your stare, he visibly relaxed and rolled his eyes as you continued. “The way he’s been mowing down on his popcorn all night has me wet as hell, so I might be busy with him later.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled with a shake of his head. Then, he turned to you and gave you a crooked smile. One that almost made this horrific ordeal worth it. “You’re a real bitch when you want to be, you know that?”

“Yeah,” you laughed, nudging him with your elbow. “I’ve been told.”

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

True to his word, Billy slipped in through your unlocked window a little after midnight that evening with a bag of stale licorice and a drink he’d swiped from the gas station on the way over to your house.

“We didn’t get our movie date.” Was his explanation as he popped The Lost Boys into your VCR and all but hopped in bed beside you. When you’d remained standing by your dresser, eyeing him with both curiosity and sheer happiness radiating off of your face, all you got was a confused look out of Billy before he patted your mattress. “You going to get that ass over here or what?”

So, naturally, you’d joined him.

And it took all of thirty-two minutes of watching the film for the two of you to end up pawing at one another as the tension of the day slowly peeled off of you with every layer of clothing the two of you tore off one another.

In no time, you were both stark naked on your bed as The Lost Boys played on without an audience. All Billy cared about watching was you. Watching you writhe and moan. He could watch you do just about anything, but it was that dreamy look you got on your face whenever he touched you that he had imprinted into his skull. It didn’t even have to be sexual. You just had a certain look whenever the two of you connected, one that he felt but managed to keep stowed away inside of him, but one you expressed. It was happiness.

Pure, unadulterated, bliss.

He knew you. Knew your body in and out, knew how to get you to come undone, knew what made you tick, what made you squirm.

You were muscle memory to him, at this point.

He knew you better than he knew himself.

Which is why, when you subtly stopped him from slipping his fingers inside of you, that Billy’s focus went to your ass. The only time you pushed his hand away after he’d spent minutes sucking and biting and focusing on those perfect tits, was when you were on your period.

So, he didn’t push it.

The two of you had fucked a few times whilst you were on it but you were deadest on limiting that to the lighter days. The very beginning or the end. Never in the middle. But god, did he want to experience the middle days.

You were so fucking horny when you were on your period and why you thought he’d give a shit about how much blood came out of you as the two of you fucked was beyond him.

So, he’d focus on your ass. Something that drove you to the brink of insanity and something that made him harder than anything.

But tonight, it wasn’t enough.

He needed all of you.

Ever since the cabin, he’d needed more of you in his life. It had become nearly impossible for him to show any iota of affection for Sid now that he’d had a taste of what life felt like with you at his side. You were his Final Girl. His everything, if he was being completely honest. And, while he knew he couldn’t open himself up to you to that extent, not yet, he needed you to feel that raging darkness inside of him. Not too much of it, but just enough to gauge your reaction.

If you could handle a shred of it, maybe he could share more of himself with you.

The darker parts.

His hands stilled as they trailed down your body and, as he hovered over you, he bit his lip and slowly drew tiny circles into your hips. “You’re on your period, right?”

You nodded, your lips swollen from the amount of kissing having gone on since popping the movie in. “Yeah, but it’s not a light day.”

He nodded in understanding as he bit his lip. “You think we could try it, anyway?”

Your eyebrows raised in mild amusement. “By not a light day, I mean its kind of heavy, Billy. It’d look like a crime scene in here.”

Billy made sure to keep his face stoic, but the idea of the two of you fucking whilst covered in blood was nearly enough to make him come on the spot.

“Aren’t you curious?” He asked, dipping his head down to lick your painfully hard nipple. “It’s got to feel so fucking good, right?”

You ran your fingers through his hair and sighed in contentment when he began to suck your tit again. “It’s messy, though.”

“Lucky for you,” he released your nipple and kissed the sensitive flesh of your breast. “I like messy.”

Your head flopped back against the pillow as you thought over his request. I did feel good, but did you want Billy to have to witness you cleaning up a fucking homicide scene once he was through with you?

Blowing out a quiet raspberry, you eyed him with mock suspicion before he gave you those goddamn puppy dog eyes. “Ugh,” you groaned with a laugh, “fine. Let me take this fucking tampon out and I’ll grab a towel to put underneath me because it is heavy, and you will be grossed out.”

Billy’s cock twitched as he watched you roll out of bed before disappearing in the bathroom. Within a few moments, he heard the toilet flush and the sink run before you re-emerged with a towel in hand.

He could watch you parade around like that all day. Naked, eyes hooded from desire, nipples and lips red from where his mouth had staked its claim.

You were perfect.

A vision.

You were fucking everything.

“I’ve been wanting to try this with you for a while.” He admitted, watching you carefully roll the towel onto the bed before perching your ass directly on top of it so as to avoid any potential leakage onto your sheets.

“I wish I could say I was shocked.” You teased, laying back down. Spreading your legs, he watched you slip a finger through your folds to tease your clit.

He swallowed as he watched you finger yourself. But then your words sank in and a panic settled in his chest as he swept his eyes up your body to meet your amused stare. “What’s that mean?”

You shrugged so casually as you continued the tirade on your own pussy. “All the scary movies we watch and stuff. You get hard as a rock if there’s a scene with a pretty girl and some blood.”

Billy froze. This was only supposed to be a peek inside of his darkness, not a full-blown window. But you didn’t seem all too fazed by it either, which confused him endlessly.

Rather than deny it, Billy hesitantly reached for your cunt to replace your fingers with his own. He didn’t delve inside of your pussy just yet, just circled your clit the way you’d been doing seconds prior. “And that doesn’t bother you?” He whispered, placing a kiss to the side of your neck.

“Nah,” you hummed, “we’ve all got our kinks, I guess.”

You released a quiet moan as he pinched your clit, but his eyes never left your face. He knew you were talking about blood in respect to the movies, but your casual tone still caught him off guard. There was no shame in it, no doubt. Just an honest to god shrug as he circled your clit with his middle finger.

Testing the waters, Billy slipped his fingers down your pussy so that his thumb coaxed your clit as he slipped two fingers inside of you. At first, it simply felt like you were soaked on account of all of the teasing and, maybe you were, but as he glanced down at the base of his fingers as he pulled them out of you, Billy nearly moaned.

Blood.

Your blood.

All over his fingers, pooling along the top of his palm.

Billy was fascinated. This wasn’t the first time he’d felt blood between his fingers, but not like this. When he’d killed Maureen Prescott, there was so much fucking blood that he’d been sick afterwards. He hadn’t expected that level of destruction but, after puking a few blocks away, he didn’t exactly shy away from it. He thought about it often, thought of the carnage that had surrounded him once he’d finished with Sidney’s mother, thought of the way the blood felt between his fingers, splayed and smattered across every inch of his body.

But this was euphoric.

Because he didn’t have to hurt anybody to feel that warmth on his palm. In fact, as he slowly slipped his fingers inside of your hot cunt, he was doing anything but. You were gyrating into his hand, unknowingly spreading your blood further and it was killing him. He was so fucking hard, too fucking hard, but he didn’t want to rush a damned thing.

He’d thought about this far too often for it to be over so soon.

“Fuck,” he whispered, slipping his hand out of your pussy just long enough to slowly spread your blood down your inner thigh. It left a fine red trail that he had every intention of lapping up in a few seconds if you were to allow it. “You feel so good, baby.”

He’d half expected you to make a comment about making a bigger mess than what your piddly little towel would allow but, as he slowly found your hooded eyes through the dim light of your bedroom, only hunger marred your pretty face.

Desire.

Intrigue.

Leaning in, Billy placed a small kiss to the apple of your cheek as his fingers continued to fuck you. “Does this feel good?”

“So good,” you rasped out, leaning your forehead against his as you bit your lip to swallow back a moan. Between your arousal and the blood, the natural lubrication that coated your pussy as he slowly pumped his fingers inside of you all the while rubbing your clit was killing you. “So fucking good, Billy.”

He smirked and quickened his pace on your clit just enough to drive you to madness as he bit down on your earlobe. His breath was hot against your cheek. “I want to taste you tonight.”

Though the promise of his tongue replacing his thumb enticed you, the fact that you were on day two and a half of your period was not a good plan. So why were you intrigued? A part of you wanted to see if he’d put his money where his mouth was but a much larger part of you wanted to see how feral Billy could get where you were concerned.

Torn, you pulled back and searched his eyes. “It’s going to be…messy, Billy.”

His dark chuckle was velvet against your skin. “I already told you,” he curled his fingers inside of you and admired the way your entire body twitched. “I like messy.”

He began to kiss his way down your body. You tried not to get lost in the feeling of his tongue swirling across every inch of your skin on his way down or the way his teeth nipped and bit at your stomach and hips as he positioned himself between your thighs. But mainly, you tried not to focus on how fucking bloody it was between your thighs because you knew that Billy wouldn’t be down there long on account of it.

“You don’t have to do this tonight, Billy,” you tried to reason, chest heaving in anticipation as he settled between your legs.

Something flashed across his face as he held your stare. For a second, you were almost sure he was going to back out and leave well enough alone, but then you watched as the bastard leaned into your pussy and raked his tongue from the base of your pussy right up to your bloodied mound.

He held your stare the entire time.

“I want you like this,” he assured you, yanking you further down the bed so that you were right at the edge. His voice was hoarse and breathy and as you chanced a look down at him through a pair of hooded, drowsy eyes, you watched him pump his cock with his free hand as he licked his lips. “I love you like this.”

You opened your mouth to respond but the words died in your throat when he buried his face between your thighs. You gasped at the contact but didn’t shy away from his touch for a single second as he slowly lapped at your core. With the one hand still gripping your hips, holding you firmly against his tongue, you knew there would be bruises where his fingers carved into your flesh, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. He was desperate to get you closer into his face and you were desperate to feel that perfect fucking tongue on your pussy.

It was as though he’d been possessed in those few moments. Billy couldn’t get enough of you on a good day but tasting you like this was enough to make Billy wild. Your pussy, the blood mixed with your slick, tasted so fucking good on his tongue. Burying his face further into your folds, he nuzzled at your clit and, now forgetting about his own pulsing cock, pulled you even closer.

Throwing your legs over his shoulders, Billy moaned into your pussy and bit down on your clit just enough to entice a moan that was probably a little too loud for your parents being home. But, he didn’t care. He refused to care in that instance.

All he wanted, all he cared about, was tasting as much of you as humanly possible before making you come on his tongue.

His name tore out of your throat as you gripped his hair between your fingers and pulled. You were being rougher than normal, and he fucking loved it. You were pulling on his hair and bucking into his mouth with such hunger that he could barely breathe but fuck he didn’t care. If this was how he was taken out, so be it.

“Baby,” you whined, voice low. “Fuck, I’m going to come.”

Your grip on his hair was vice-like as the veins in your neck swelled. With wild, laboured breaths, you found yourself bucking into his mouth as a white-hot orgasm rippled through your entire body. You moaned and groaned and cursed into the bed, but Billy’s mouth was relentless.

It wasn’t until he was absolutely sure you couldn’t take another second of torture, that he pulled away and allowed you to collapse back onto the bed. Your cheeks were flushed, and your lips were parted as you attempted to catch your breath. With a quiet chuckle, he kissed his way up your body, grinning against your skin as your legs continued to twitch.

He could feel your blood all over his chin and nose and as he licked it off, using his fingers to swipe at the areas his tongue couldn’t quite reach, Billy was coasting on a high that only you could provide.

“Oh, god,” you buried your face into the pillow with a quiet laugh as you moved to get off the bed. “Hang on, I’ll grab you a towel for your face.”

“No,” Billy shook his head and grabbed for your wrist. “I want to see it.”

You blinked and scraped your eyes along his bloodied face. Your nipples were still rock hard and your cunt was still pulsing on account of his tongue, but it was the look of pure ecstasy on his face that made you clench.

He was being serious.

“Come with me,” he hummed, slipping off of the bed to head towards the small bathroom attached to your room. His fingers threaded through yours as you both walked across your bedroom before flicking the light on.

The vision that he was met with made his cock twitch.

Your blood coated almost everything from his nose down his chin and as you stood beside him, looking at him through the mirror, still fully naked and still housing bloody handprints left behind from his busy hands coating the lower half of your body, Billy had never wanted to bury himself inside of you any more than he did right then and there.

He found your curious stare through the mirror. Your pretty eyes swept over the mess of blood left behind on account of you and as you turned to face him, he found himself hypnotized as you reached out to sweep his hair back and away from his forehead.

“Blood suits you,” you teased with a small smile. “Horrifically enough.”

He said nothing as those brown eyes soaked you in but as he stepped into you, cornering you against the sink counter, the look on his face said everything. He didn’t kiss you though. He seemed to hesitate, as though gauging if you’d kiss him whilst covered in your own menstrual blood. “Is this okay?”

“I don’t know.” You admitted almost sheepishly.

He nuzzled your neck and slipped his knee between your thighs to allow himself better access to your pussy. With his hand wrapped securely around his cock, he slipped the head of his dick along your folds and swallowed hard as he watched your blood coat the head of it. “Fuck,” he whispered as his forehead fell against your own. “You’re going to make me come before I’m even inside of you.”

You were watching his face as he once again slipped the head of his cock through your folds so it teased your clit. His eyes were so dark and there was so much desire in those warm eyes that it almost caught you off guard.

“You’re really into this,” you remarked quietly. When his eyes found yours, you could see blind panic cross over his face as he instinctually took a step away from you. You stopped him before he could think of stopping himself. “Hey,” you cooed, reaching out for his face. “I didn’t say it was a bad thing, relax.”

You felt the tension in his shoulders disperse as you played with the curls at the nape of his neck. “You’re too good for me,” he muttered, cradling your face. “You know that?”

“Oh, yeah,” you goaded with a smile. “I know.”

He barked out a quiet laugh and ground his hips into yours. “A smartass, too.”

You hummed as his hands slid down your body to hold you against the counter. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Anything.” Billy nipped at your neck.

You leaned back to allow him full access to your neck. “How did I taste?” Your words seemed to make him still as he slowly pulled back to search your eyes. “With the blood. How did it taste?”

The look on Billy’s face was primal as his grip on your hips tightened. Leaning in, he nudged your nose so that your lips were perfectly aligned with his. “Kiss me and find out.”

You weren’t sure at first, but as he closed the distance between you, you found yourself leaning into the kiss both curious and slightly mortified by the taste of your blood on his lips. It was strange and you weren’t sure if you liked it at first, if you were being honest. It was coppery and a little sticky and yet as he walked the two of you out of the bathroom and back towards your bed, you found yourself hungry for more.

With your fingers tangled through his hair you gave it a tug, garnering a low growl that rumbled in his throat as he continued on with the bruising kiss. When the back of his knees hit your bed, the two of you fell into a jumbled mess on your mattress, never once breaking for air as your tongues battled for dominance.

Expertly, knowing the way your body moved better than anyone, Billy moved you in such a way that he was sitting up in the middle of your bed as you straddled his lap. And as you lowered yourself onto his pulsing cock, the gruff low moan that tore out of his lips was enough to kill you.

His large hands splayed out across your back, guiding you further into his hungry mouth as your bleeding cunt teased him beyond belief. You were so wet and with every twist of your hips and every gentle moan, he was finding it harder and harder to concentrate on anything else besides just how fucking good you felt.

Digging your nails into his shoulders, blood slowly pooled in the wake of your crescent moon shaped nail markings. He hissed at the sensation and squeezed your tits rather roughly as he tried to stop himself from coming right then and there.

But then you lowered your lips onto his shoulders and he felt your hot tongue trace over every last cut and he almost lost it. There you were, with dried blood all over your chin and parts of your cheeks from having kissed him after going down on you, licking the blood that gathered along his shoulders.

He was in a state of euphoria.

“You are so fucking gorgeous.” He pushed out, revelling in the feel of how warm and wet your pussy felt.

Rather than say a word, all you did was bite down on the reddened area of his shoulder as you quickened your pace on his dick.

Drawing more blood.

Licking up more of his blood.

Something in him snapped to life in that instance. An almost ancient need bubbled to the surface as he held you there against him. Your tits bounced as you writhed on top of him and as he began to meet you halfway with violent, earth shattering thrusts, the outside world ceased to exist.

The sound of his balls hitting your sopping pussy combined with the sound of your wetness, both slick and blood, squelching all around the two of you was all that surrounded you as you whined out his name. You could barely breathe as he pounded into you, barely function.

“Billy, fuck, I—”

His mouth buried your words with another hungry kiss. You were both breathless and desperate to be as close to the other as humanly possible as you sat on your bed, fucking each other raw. His tongue slid along your bottom lip, gently tugging at it as his forehead fell against your own.

There was a shift after the cabin that you’d both felt inside of you, but there was a shift in the air tonight, as well. An unspoken trust, of sorts, that went beyond anything the two of you were prepared for.

His hips bucked into yours one final time before he came undone inside of you. A flood of warmth settled in your belly as he came and as his thumb continued to circle your clit, rubbing and pinching at it every step of the way, you soon followed suit.

With one last shaky pump, Billy held you there as he slowly pulled out of you. He kissed your lips, your cheek, down your neck, and along your shoulder before his eyes found yours once again.

His thumb skirted across the apple of your cheek. “You’re my girl,” he whispered, revelling in just how fucking gorgeous you looked in that instance. “You know that?”

“I do,” you affirmed, kissing him softly. “You’re helping me clean my fucking bedsheets in the morning,” you muttered, “do you know that?”

Despite everything, Billy found himself smiling across at you before glancing down at the bloody mess of your sheets. “Yeah,” he chuckled, “I do.”

“Good,” you gently smacked his cheek and crawled off of your bed towards the bathroom.

“Where you going?” He asked, watching your naked body pad out of the room.

“Shower,” you merely said before popping your head around the corner. “Care to join me?”

Billy was at your side within the blink of an eye.

hehehehehehehe let me know if yall like it

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spaceyflowerswriting · 2 years

Note

hello!! I love your writing, the soft vibes are exactly what this fandom needs after seeing all the horrific shit that's happened in the recent chapters. I saw your requests are open so may I ask for a gun x reader where they're just relaxing together? maybe a teeny tiny bit suggestive?? no pressure though, I know he can be difficult to characterize. thank you and have a good day <33

nighttime (gun park x reader)

details: oneshot, gender neutral reader but written in 2nd pov, general canon au, you and gun have been dating for a while already, i guess you both live in a house together ?? idk dont think too hard about it its only briefly mentioned in beginning

warnings: suggestive; sorry i think i went over mild because the ending has a heavy implication of how the night ended 🙏

summary: gun gets a day off tomorrow and tells you about it. also, he spends the night with you.

a/n: thank u for the request!! and sjdhshd im glad my writing's helping u cope(?) 😭😭 ngl im not caught up on latest ch since i read from webtoon only but ive seen some vague spoilers and yeah things arent looking too good 💔 especially gun's fashion LMAO

i'd agree gun is a bit difficult to characterize;; for me tho i just try to follow canon him but like... slightly more normal ??? i hope it works for u/isnt too ooc in ur eyes so this oneshot can still be enjoyable !! also i hope u have a good day too <33

btw shoutout to this post ; listening to the song they associated with gun helped me write this ^_^

Gun was more than happy to return home to you with the good news that he had no work for tomorrow. And once he told you, he was pleased to see your shared excitement.

"We should plan a date for tomorrow," he suggested, "What would you like to do?"

He listened intently as you described the activities you had in mind. Whether they were staying at home all day or venturing off into the city, he didn't care as long as it was quality time spent with you. He couldn't wait to devote himself fully to you tomorrow, but for now he had other ideas.

Before he could say anything, you lead him right to it by asking, "What about you? Anything you want to do tomorrow?"

"No, your plans sound just fine. But, I was thinking that for tonight we do what I had planned ever since I got the news that I'm having tomorrow off."

"And that would be...?"

Gun held up a keyring with his car keys, dangling them. "A late night drive around sound good to you?"

"Why not?" His smile reflected yours as he began to lead you out of the house.

Dirving around Seoul and seeing all the night lights was beautiful. The hushed bustling compared to the loudness during the day was also refreshing. Not to mention, the general dark blanket that came with nighttime--it was all relaxing to Gun, and even more so with you by his side.

Not much talking happened throughout the ride, but it wasn't awkward at all. Just a peaceful silence as you both enjoyed the cool air that breezed through the open windows of the car. Of course, the occasional conversations did take place but they were more like lighthearted smalltalk if anything.

While driving, Gun didn't have a fixed destination in mind, but when his random turns lead you both to a quieter part of Seoul, he slowed down and looked for a place to park. It ended up being the parking lot of some abandoned store, or at least it looked like it.

"Late night drive over?" You turned to him as he finished up parking.

He nodded. "Let's stargaze."

"On what grass? I'm not laying on the asphalt floor," you semi-joked, looking around at the street.

Gun just rolled his eyes in amusement. "Who said we're even leaving the car?" He got up with a bent back as to not bump his head on the car's roof before stepping over the car's controls. He then sat down on the second row seats and reached an arm up, grabbing a handle on the roof and pulling it back to reveal a glass roof.

Your jaw dropped momentarily.

"Come on." He waved you over and watched as you moved from your seat to join him in the second row. Once you did, he adjusted the seats so they laid parallel to the floor and you both flopped down at the same time. The two of you glanced at each other for a moment before softly laughing together.

After that came more peaceful silence as you both stared up at the stars. At some point, Gun moved his attention from the sky to you, and he was reminded of another reason why he preferred nighttime over daytime--it was the way moonlight shined on you, the way it added a special charm that highlighted your features.

"I want to show them my appreciation," he thought, hands suddenly aching to touch you. If he wasn't showing you love through gifts, it was definitely through his touch. He figured he might as well express the latter since there were no gifts around to give. Plus he was going to be free tomorrow anyway, why not stay up a little later with his lover?

Gun turned to lay on his side and put an arm over your abdomen, hand resting on your hip. "Hey."

"Mm?" You didn't turn to look at him, too busy admiring the stars. Not for long though, because the words he whispered in your ear made you jerk your head his direction and made your cheeks hotter than the sun. "Gun, we're in public," you practically hissed.

"This is a pretty secluded area. And I don't see anyone around. Do you?" He smirked when you couldn't reply. It only widened when you didn't stop him from sliding his hand up your shirt. "I need your vocal consent before I continue, dear."

Your breath hitched, and slowly you murmured, "By all means, Gun."

Nighttime sure was alluring to Gun, but not as much as you.

#lookism x reader #gun park x reader #gun park #oh my god i hope the car scene makes sense i was fighting for my life trying to describe it #anyways my queued up post of gun x reader with a mildly suggestive thing and then i have this request 😭#i dont mind it at all ofc but its just funny that i have 2 gun writings and both are mildly suggestive #i get it tho hes very attractive 😳#btw i hope u enjoyed my other gun writing <3 #jkbubs #requests

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ac3id · 4 years

Text

Hawk’s eye| 18+

pairings: hawks [keigo tamaki] x female! reader

summary: hawks is in his rut, desperate for some relief. his annoying secretary won’t stop irritating him so he decides to take his pent up frustrations on her. ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

anonymous said:

hi!! so while the requests are still open, could you write some headcannons for Hawks x reader when he's in rut? maybe the reader is a bit clueless and doesn't even know he goes through stuff like that? dirty details are welcome 👀❤️

this was high-key inspired by @tainted-wine‘s this fic. (i hope u like my take on it !! 💓)

a/n: aaaa this took so much longer than i thought it would take 😭, also thanks @the-grimm-writer for proof reading this! (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ) also this is porn w plot so if u just was to skip to da porn. skip to this ‘◌’ bhai

ALSO THANKYOU FOR 900 FOLLOWERS LMAO WTF FOR REAL 😭

tagging: @lady-tokugawa-of-mikawa, @koiibito, @reinawritesbnha, @shorkbrian

warnings: noncon, hate fucking, one slap, she bites his dick at some point, scumbag hawks.

word count: 5862

navigation

The sound of your phone buzzing on the side table with a loud, irritating noise jolts you awake. You roll around on the bed, your fingers reaching to turn the vibrating device off. Groaning, you sit up straight. The warm mattress under you threatens to lull you back to sleep but you shove the thought away instead choosing to stretch your arms over your head and yawn endlessly. You were tired, so goddamn tired. Rubbing your temples lazily you start thinking about the dreadful day you have ahead of yourself. You think about your boss: Hawks, the man who makes you hate your life and job. He has trapped you into a never-ending nightmare which starts the second you open your eyes till the moment you fall asleep and even then he still manages to haunt you in your dreams.

Cleaning up after his messes, obeying his ever so pliantly. He has turned you into his little pet slave. He says that it’s your job as you are his assistant, his little helper there to make his job a little less hectic. You must listen to his needs and wants and to some degree, you do agree with him: it is your job, it’s what you signed up for after all but you can also sense him misusing his title when he is with you. He never listens to your suggestions which results in him calling you late after work hours to help with his problems knowing damn well you had already warned him beforehand. And, oh his flirty, suggestive comments which borderline sexual harassment. Hawks is a difficult man to work with and you often find yourself wondering how much calmer your life would be if you never worked for him but you do not have that luxury of leaving the job. It pays ridiculously well and you have bills to pay, your family to support. No, you cannot afford to lose this job. So you sit through his torment and hope for the best.

Seconds later after you have gathered your will to live you start scrolling through your phone, skimming through the morning news lazily. Your eyebrows furrow and eyes turn into angry slits as you glance upon a displeasing, astonishing article.

‘No. 2 Hero Hawks spotted partying with strippers–’

Your heart stops for a moment.

What the fuck was this?

You hesitantly read through the article, your heartbeat increasing every second that your eyes focus on the led screen, reading the details of the damned article. Eyes widening as panic settles in your nerves, you realize the gravity of the situation you had found yourself under as Hawks’ manager. Hawks had been spotted partying with strippers in a nightclub with a bunch of celebrities. The crazy stalker who had managed to follow him succeeded in capturing exclusive pictures of Hawks dressed in an expensive suit, his hair styled to perfection dancing under the dim lights of the club with women in basically their underwear shamelessly grinding upon him. You honestly couldn’t have given a single fuck about what Hawks did in his free time but since he had managed to get a paparazzi to tail him and now that his career was at risk; it became your problem. Your first and foremost instinct was to call Hawks and ask him what the hell he was thinking. Not being careful enough, he had managed to taint his entire reputation. The people of Japan now probably viewed him as a reckless party animal rather than the No. 2 Hero!

Before you could call him, your phone’s screen lights up illuminating a contact you dread. ‘Hero Commission’ it’s written in bold letters, your face drops. Your fingers shake, filled with anxiety as you accept the call. Inhaling and exhaling, you try to calm your nerves. If it is a call from the Commission, you know it’s bad. Bad.

You pick up the phone and instantly regret it, “What were you doing?” an angry, masculine voice snarls through the screen. You open your mouth to answer but are not given a chance too. “How did you let him go to a strip club during patrol hours?” you bite your lip thinking of an acceptable excuse, “He had to go there for work! It’s a misunderstanding. He went down to the strip club undercover to meet up with a crook to get some intel– that’s what he told me. This is a misunderstanding, I–” your explanation was cut short as the person on the other end of the call deemed it enough. “Whatever it is, fix it and never let this happen again.” he sneers a warning before cutting the call. It wasn’t a complete lie, Hawks did tell you that he was investigating a case on his own and that he would be gaining information from shady people but you did not expect him to go to a strip club out of all places. The worst part: he never even told you in detail anything about this case neither did he notice the paparazzi tailing his back. You sigh in frustration, rubbing your forehead, you quickly ring up his number only for it be sent right to voicemail. You almost scream. Where the fuck was this bastard?

Managing Hawks was not a walk in the park. The hero commission had sent you down especially to be Hawks’ secretary. You had a reputation: you were known to be responsible, diligent, and punctual. You were one of their best, entrusted with the responsibility to manage Hawks and you did a good job but it was Hawks who just made the job so hard.

Creating problems he could never solve by himself; on lucky days you would get a call from him at three in the morning, him begging you to come to help him. You want to say no, deny him any help. Let him suffer by himself but you cannot do that. If he screws up and you are not there to fix it. You lose your job, you can’t afford that. You give your 100%, you do but it’s Hawks. He has a problem with you, well, he has a problem with everyone in the commission but projects it mainly at you. He does not respect you.

He chooses to ignore your decisions and suggestions, diminishing them with a cruel chuckle, “Look, I need you but just not now.” He would say with an apologetic smile, “just let me work at my own pace, I will call when I will need you. After all, I love seeing your cute face.” You would always have to force yourself from not slapping his smug face before he took off into the bright, blue sky.

The truth untold, it wasn’t his fault completely either. He was just so fast. It was hard for anyone to keep up with him and since he did his job right; bringing peace to the nation you could not deem him worthless. But it still was a bother at times like this when you were left completely in the dark while Hawks ruined his hard-earned reputation.

You got into the building earlier that morning to wait for Hawks in his office, you needed to talk to him. This was not his first mishap. Not long ago, another article about him shamelessly flirting with a fan had been published. It had said the fan was visibly uncomfortable with him but Hawks didn’t seem to care, he kept presting. You had managed to cover it up as the two being close friends who were publicly joking around, there was no real harm done. It was a lie though, you had to pay the fan a large check to keep her mouth shut. She accepted the money and the story was lost and forgotten but you had no idea how you were going to cover this hell up.

The clock struck nine as the day began, people rushing into the building all tensed but there was no sign of Hawks. You tried calling him on his number but the call directed to voicemail yet again. You were growing impatient, did something happen to him? Sure Hawks fucked things over sometimes but he never disappeared like this. It got you genuinely worried. Something horrible could have happened to him. After all, he was on a case.

You waited for another thirty minutes and there was yet no sign of him. His sidekicks came knocking on his office door only to be surprised to see you there instead of their boss. You told them to continue with their day and not worry about Hawks, he was just awfully late. Not a big deal, he will be here soon. Soon.

Another hour passed by, no sign of Hawks and about now your phone was blowing up with angry calls from his sponsors and business partners, screaming at the top of their lungs frowning upon the scandal. Heck, even Endeavor called you after he couldn’t reach Hawks himself. The call made you nervous as anxiety crept in yet again. Hawks wasn’t answering to Endeavour something bad must have happened. Getting tired of the wait, you make up your mind to drop by his penthouse and to go see him for yourself. His silence was driving you crazy and worried at the same time, you just hoped he would be there well and safe. You could not imagine the ruckus that would create if something were to happen to him.

You walked out of his office after waiting for an hour. Rushing down to the basement you got into your car and before driving away to his house. Just before leaving, you decided to test your luck by calling him. Hoping, praying he would answer this time and luckily he did .

“Hawks!” you cried, a wave of relief washing over you, “Where are you? What are you doing?” you began pestering him with questions, not letting him answer even once. Hawks, tired of waiting, interrupted your monologue of questions with a chuckle. “Aw, you’re worried about me, baby?” his tone was low and mischievous, the sentence slurring almost into a moan at the last word. You rolled your eyes and clenched your fists in irritation, you weren’t new to his teasing. Hawks thought it was appropriate for him to casually flirt with his secretary. Send unasked comments about your figure, perverted implications about what he would do to a ‘cute little thing like you’ which made you very uncomfortable being around him at times. But it wasn’t that what made him get on your last nerves. It was the fact that he could even think about joking at a time like this which made you furious.

You screamed into the phone, giving him a piece of your mind. Degrading him for not taking care of himself, complaining about how he had managed to put you in such a tight spot.

“Once again I am asking, where the fuck are you. Hawks?” you ended your speech with spite in your words. Hawks sighed, “I am in the office,” he says your name with an edge in his voice, instantly shutting you down, “Where the hell are you?” The smugness in his tone remains and you can tell he is smirking on the other side of the screen as if he’s won. You hang up abruptly before walking out of your car and into the building, hurriedly making your way towards Hawk’s office.

You slam the door open glaring upon hawks as he sits behind his table. Dirty boots resting pliantly on the shiny, polished wood. His wings out, stretched to their fullest, filling up the room standing on high alert. They have a deeper hue to them, they look darker– a darker red. How did that happen? You find yourself wondering. Is he on drugs? His face is tilted upwards, facing the ceiling. Eyes screwed shut. They open as he hears you enter and walk towards him, his wings falling back behind him calm and collected.

“You’re late,” he says with a smirk, you bang your fist on the table beside where his feet rest, making him flinch and bring them down instinctively. His eyes widened in shock, he was not expecting you to be this furious. Sure, he knew he knew he had gotten you mad but he was not expecting you to be this angry. Without any hesitation, you start scolding him again. He watches you ramble in ominous glee. A poker face masking his expression, he watches you trot about how much trouble he is in. His job is to protect meek and weak citizens who cannot fight for themselves, what he was doing in a strip in the name of business is something you cannot grasp your head around. You repeat your lecture which you had already tortured him over the phone while the entire time Hawks drums his fingers underneath the table, waiting for you to get over with your dumb speech. His eyes trail on your lips, watching it move. Plump, pillow-like features tinted dark red ramble on about how much of an irresponsible person he was. Complaining about how much trouble he puts you through daily. Honestly, he doesn’t quite catch what you were saying. His mind busy imaging you shutting the fuck and letting him get through the day– or better yet how pathetic you would look underneath him while he shoves his dick down your throat. The thought makes his cock throb. His eyes change from an unbothered, bored look to something sinister as they start trailing all over your body. His eyebrows slightly furrow as he catches up on the few degrading terms you throw at him.

You talked too much. Way too much, do you realize how much better you would look if you keep your pretty, little mouth shut? The entire time, it’s always: Hawks don’t do this, Hawks don’t do that. Don’t you ever get tired? He wonders whether your dumb little brain had any thoughts other than the ones which tell you to irritate him all the time. You should shut up, really stop talking. He might do something bad, he’s already stressed enough as it is being in his rut and having no way to relieve himself, he is going through a rough time here. The other night he escaped to a strip club in hopes of relieving some stress and it had worked but it had also brought along a mind splitting scandal.

The entire morning, Hawks was busy avoiding people. Whether it be his fans, reporters, or even someone he knew; he paid no mind to them trying to get to the office as soon as possible to deal with the mess he had created.

It wasn’t his fault entirely, he was in his rut and needed sexual relief which he was finding very hard to receive. With his work piling up and you breathing down his neck, he couldn’t even take represents as they slowed him down. He couldn’t risk falling asleep on duty. A stupid, little headline about what he does in his free time was much more favorable than a failed mission in which he would let countless innocent lives slip by his fingers.

He watches you ramble, his eyes trailing over your body locking on your tits. He stares at them intensely, watching them bounce slowly every time you huff out of irritation and frustration. Your work shirt works him favors, the white almost translucent material shows off the slightest shadow of your black, lacy bra. It’s enough to get him going- imaging how your soft mounds would feel in his hands. How you would whimper under his touch as he tugs and pulls on your perky nipples, you probably wouldn’t sound as monstrous as you do right now. Your moans would be girlish, small whimpers would leave your lips as you would try your best to cover them up. You would try to hide your face under his assault but he wouldn’t let you, pinning you down instead and forcing himself on you while you cried for him to stop. Beg for his mercy.

He can feel his jeans tighten.

“So please, Hawks. Just be a little more responsible.” you finish, your voice turning into a plea. He hums and apologizes for his impulsive thinking, like always, he is not sorry. “Let's fix this mess, what do you say?” he asks with an apologetic grin, trying to be polite. You on the other hand don’t even spare him a glance, walking right out the door instead. It leaves him very offended.

◌

“Ah! What a troublesome day it was,” Hawks chimes in walking into his office with you closely following behind, “It was all your fault.” you spit making hawks chuckle, “Whatever happens, happens for the good.” he says, a scoff leaves your lips, “What was good about that?” you ask annoyed. “I get to have you alone with me now~” Hawks winks at you making you roll your eyes dramatically. Both of you stand together in Hawks’ office after hours. The day is done, everyone in the agency building has taken their leave excluding the two of you. It had been a long day fixing up after Hawks. You were tired and all you wanted was a warm bath and some sleep.

“Do you want to know why it happened?” Hawks asks out of the blue, “What happened?” you question, “Why was I at the strip club?” you sigh, “I don’t give two shits about your personal life, Hawks.” replying sternly. A look of disappointment arises on his face, “It’s actually more than that, really, I u-uh have this condition- it gets very hard to work during these times-”

“What are you even talking about?” You interject confused and clueless. You turn to him, a glare evident on your face you stare at him sheepishly. What was he on about now?

“I am serious, I went into my rut, and that's why I went to the strip club-” “Into a what?” Hawks’ eyes widened, were you really that clueless? “A rut, [y/n],” he says like it is a matter of fact, something everybody is aware of. “A rut. You know like how some animals go into heat and they-” your face scrunches as he explains his rut to you, you visibly grow more and more repulsed. Hawks studies you face, his heart genuinely breaking at your expressions. “Why are you telling me this?” you screech, “jeez Hawks, I did not need to know any of that!” you continue.

Hawks is hurt, he accepted a reaction which showed more concern. Maybe he went a bit too far imagining that you would offer him help but seeing you so disgusted by him shattered his heart and made him lose all his respect for you. You were a terrible human being, no different from those villains he put behind the bars every day. “I am telling you all of this because- this actually happens! Many- fuck- millions of people like me actually suffer from this shit! You should be a little more emphatic.” he reasons. He accepts you to understand at least now but you gloriously manage to disappoint him yet again. A rude snarl leaves your lips followed by a scoff, “What are you really trying to tell me Hawks? That you don’t want to do your job and to justify your laziness; you are making lame excuses now?” you shove a finger to his chest, it pushes him off the edge.

Something in his snaps, he looks down where your fingertip touches his chest. You are smaller than him, he’s at least a foot bigger than you. Where does your bratty, puny self get all this confidence from? His eyes darken as something sinister floats within him. He stares down at your finger, wanting to rip it off. He wants to see you cry. He wants to see you in pain and misery, suffering a great deal while nobody comes to help you.

“Hawks, you know what? I am so done with your bullshit. I am leaving.” You turn away from him, heading to the door but before you could move a step. Hawks grabs you by writs, caging your delicate hand into a bone-crushing death grip, “What the fuck?” you question, “Hawks?” you continue. You wait for his response, turning to him. He is facing the floor, his hair scanning over his eyes making it impossible for you to read his expression, not that you could read what was going on with him normally but now; it’s even harder. “Are you going to let go?” you ask again only to be met by him squeezing your wrists even tighter. You bring your other hand over him to pry yourself free from his clutches but he doesn’t want to let go.

“Hawks wha-” you don’t get to complete your statement as Hawks pushes you down on the floor making you fall on your butt. You let out a loud hiss. You frown, yelling out “What is wrong with you!?” You try to stand back up but his hands settle on your shoulder pushing you back down. You try fighting but it’s to no use. Did you forget he is the no. 2 Pro- Hero? He is much stronger than you, he brings down villains twice his size daily. What makes you think your weak kicks and punches will be enough to beat him?

You keep struggling under him, screaming how you were going to report him and ruin his career, how he is going to be sorry for messing with you.

“Shut. Up.” he finally speaks, he brings his gloved hand to your perfectly styled hair. Pulling tightly on your roots he stretches your face upwards, making it easier for him to look down on you while you cry in agony, “Stop crying.'' His voice is deep and raspy, much different from how he usually talks. You look up at him, fear swimming in your eyes as tears prick at the corners of your sockets, lips trembling. If you already weren’t terrified enough, your horror becomes tenth fold when you see his boner raging in his pants, “Come, on. Hawks..” your voice is small and weak, it's a broken cry. You know what he is going to make you do. He was going to violate you, break you beyond repair.

This was so wrong. As much you hated Hawks, you never would have thought he would do something like this. Hawks was a hero. He is meant to fight for justice, punish evil. Why is he doing this? “Hawks no. Please. Was it something I said? I take it back I didn’t mean it-”

“You know, y/n, you are not so different from those villains yourself,” if looks could kill, you would be dead. The pure, anger, and hatred he looks at you with bothers you. It makes you hate yourself, there is something sinister in his eyes which makes you sure about the fact that he is not afraid of hurting you. He has given up on you, after all, his polite gestures, generosity you always ignored- he’s fed up with your sheer ignorance and your ego. He hates you. He does and heck if he wasn’t in his rut; he would never bring his dick anywhere near you. He does not respect you as a human and in no way does he have any romantical attachment to you. All he ever saw was a walking alarm clock, bugging him every second, and now all he is going to see you as is his cocksleeve whom he can stuff his fat cock into whenever and however he seems fine. To him you are just a walking hole he can ruin whenever he wants to, you have managed to get on his bad side and he is going to show you his bad side.

He undoes his belt, his pants falling to his thighs displaying his expensive boxers and his growing hardness. His cock is throbbing within its confines, fighting desperately to come free. His free hand pulls his boxers down and his cock springs free, hitting his abdomen. It stands long and hard, the tip blushed red and angry, tiniest bit of pre-cum spilling sweetly from his slit. He pumps his cock in his hand before forcing it against your mouth, pressing it to your lips smearing his pre all over your lips. You whimper in protest, moving your head the littlest you can under his tight grip. “Bitch open up. You had this coming for a long time,” his dick slaps your cheek while his fingers try to pry open your mouth. Pushing his gloved digits forcefully into your mouth, the rough fabric feels disgusting on your tongue. His fingers capture the lower part of your jaw, tearing your mouth apart with deranged strength. A loud cry escapes from you as he stuffs your empty mouth full of his cock, “Yeah, that’s more like it. Fuck.” he bottoms out into your throat, his shaft hitting the back of your throat making you gag, “get on with it. A slut like you would have the experience, right?” he taunts you. You do as he says, puckering your lips firmly around his length, your hands resting on his exposed thighs while you stroke him with your tongue. You feel his chiseled thigh muscles flex under your fingers as he melts in pleasure, tiny moans leaving his lips shamelessly.

As Hawks drowns in overwhelming pleasure, a criminal idea crosses your mind. Your eyes trail up to his face. His eyes are screwed close, he bites his lower lip softly. Carefully and slowly, you graze your teeth over his cock. Clamping down on it lightly, you hold your position. Your heart beats faster when Hawks stiffens and in a quick flash, he pushes you off his cock throwing you into the ground before backing up, squealing in pain.

“YOU LITTLE BITCH!” he screams, you sprint to the door. Trembling fingers try to unlock the doorknob while Hawks cries in agony behind you. You can feel him loom behind you, ready to come for your neck. A part of you tells you that you will not make it but the adrenaline rushing in your veins calls to be hopeful. Just open the door and just run.

Your cold, quivering fingers almost unlock the heavy wooden door but before you can push it open. Hawks appears right behind you, pushing his body onto your back. You feel his cock poking at your ass, his hand grabs your head pulling you, prying you off the door. You scream and cry trying to break free, grabbing his hand clawing on it to let you free. Hawks chooses to show no mercy as he drags you by your hair to his desk, your scalp hurts from his grip. You can feel tiny strands breakaway. He turns you around and slams your back to his wooden desk, you whimper at the contact. He stands in front of you, pressing his knee between your thighs. His hand reaches out to pull at your collar, forcing you to look at him.

He is livid, eyebrows furrowed with a death glare his jaw clenched, and his eyes darker than you have ever seen before. He looks at you with murderous intent, you think he might as well kill you with his wings flared open. The feathers turning into knives, you beg for your life.

Hawks observes your face. Broken, scared for your life your eyes are glassy, ridden in fear your makeup smeared all over your face. He thinks it's beautiful, he has finally got you begging for mercy, finally thinking of him as the man he is. He appreciates your submission but it does not erase the fact that you just bite oh his dick. You beg for mercy, your voice is small and broken. It comes barely above a whisper, “I am so sorry hawks, please don’t do this.” He doesn’t listen, staring at you head-on with his jaw clenched. He brings his free hand to the air, keeping it steady for a second before bringing it down with a horrendous force. You feel it before it happens; white, hot flashing pain erupts through your cheek stinging you hard. You cry out in agony as your face drops to the other side. The strike was powerful, it left you sore, you can still feel it sting your face. It leaves you swollen, you try to bring your hand up to your face lightly to carcasses you paining cheek but Hawks pushes your face on the wooden desk before you could, trapping your arms behind your back holding it with one hand. “You don’t realize your position, do you? You know what? I was going- planning to be gentle with you. I thought I would at least make you cum but now,” he pulls a feather out his wings preceding to tear open your pencil skirt with the sharp end. The ripped fabric falls to the ground leaving you in your panties and the pantyhose you always wear under your skirts, “There we go. I hope you are a pain slut, otherwise you would really not enjoy this.” he says with a small chuckle before ripping you out of your bottoms, leaving you in your panties completely vulnerable to him. He abandons his gloves, rubbing his fingers on your clothed cunt roughly trying to gather slickness from your dry hole. Pleasure shoots down your body as his digits find your clit, rubbing tight circles on the little pearl, “Does this feel good? You are getting wet.” a smirk scars his face, “Who gets off to being raped?” he says sharply. Your face scrunches up in disgust and embarrassment. A heavy lump forms in your throat and the waterworks that you had been holding off burst open. Big, fat tears roll down your cheeks as you cry for mercy. You didn't know why this was happening to you, for your entire life you had been a nice person: always helpful, sensitive, and kind. At least, that was what you thought yourself to be. Never in a million years could you- or anyone, in fact, could have ever thought that you would be crying pathetically while your boss: a person known to all as a Hero, the truest, most honest person to exist ever would be the one defiling you, tearing you down to nothing just for his pleasure.

“Shut up, you like this.” He snarls at you, so sick of your loud wails he even shoves two fingers inside your mouth plunging them to the back of her throat, “Don’t you dare bite now, slut.” he warns. His fingers stop prodding at your clit when he notices the wet spot forming on your panties, he wastes no time shimming them down to your ankles, whistling when he sees your glistening pussy. You only wail louder pleading him not proceed any further. Hawks turns a blind eye to all your begging, “I should just shove it in, right?” he asks petting his finger over your hole, “but that won’t be fun,” he snickers. You feel his move away from your cunt and move higher. Panic settles, he couldn't be serious, “Hawks. Please no. Please don’t. I don-” finger rims along your asshole, inching to dip in, “What? Don’t want me to fuck your ass?” he spanks your ass hard making you flinch, “Please I’ve never-” you cry out hoping he would understand, “No one’s ever fucked you in the ass before?” you whine at the lewd words which shamelessly fall from his lips, “Guess there’s a first for everything.” he says with a scoff.

His digits bury into your hole, stretching you out in a way you’ve never felt before. The stretch burns, filling a fresh set of tears rolling down your eyes, smudging your mascara and eyeliner You looked like a whore. He keeps hammering his fingers inside you without mercy, a loud whine leaves your lips as you feel a tingle of pleasure from him hitting the right spot. “Do you like that? Too bad, this isn’t for you.” he moves his fingers from you before lining his fat cock to your almost too tiny hole, “How will this fit?” he laughs to himself, pressing his engorged tip in slowly, “Will be a tight fit,” he continues to shove his cock into your hole, his face turns off one to ecstasy as your walls take him inch by inch. You scream in pain, his cock was much bigger than his fingers. It was stretching you out, numbing your mind and soul, you did not know how much more you could take. Salty tears fell from your eyes as Hawks bottomed himself in you, he waited for a moment before starting to thrust into you unforgivingly. Dragging his fat cock out and your walls pulling him right back in. As he kept ramming into you. Slowly, you start to pleasure tingle up your spine as his tip smashed against the right spots. Your cries of pain turn to pleasurable moans. Hawks wastes no time in teasing you, “Look at you moaning like a slut,” he spanks your ass with swift force sending your rear to sting. You feel unbearable pleasure starting to build up in your abdomen, a straining coil wanting to burst which each of Hawks’ strong thrusts yet it is left unfilled as the simulation is not enough to make you cum from all alone. Hawks notices this, the pitiful crying for him to touch your swollen little clit which was begging to be played with. He almost thought he would give it to you, after all, he was a good person. Almost.

Hawks just snicker, his cruel, sadistic laugh echoing in the room, “No, no, no.” he teases, “no matter how much you cry, baby. I am not letting you cum. This is your punishment, you deserve this. You’ve been a bad girl.” Hawks couldn’t formulate how he was able to form complete sentences. The moment he had caught you, he had let himself go feral. Dragging you down like a predator, he finally had you under him. He kept grunting and breathing profanity down your ear along with shameful praises about how well your slutty ass takes him. He is glad he is finally getting his much-deserved relief but he is not done yet. He won’t be done until he is filling your vulnerable womb with his seed, he won’t be done until he hears you asking him to give you his children. He is not going to leave you be until he has destroyed you, balls deep in your tiny pussy. He is going to keep you here all night fucking you, he is going to stay there all night fucking you with hate which he has buried within himself for you over the years. He is going to melt you in his hand, break you until only he can build you up, and maybe he will not let you go even after that. Maybe he will keep you after all hawks mate for life.

Just hope he lets you cum the next time.

1K notes · View notes

drabbles-mc · 3 years

Text

50 Types of Touch

Nestor Oceteva x F!Reader

Dedicating this to the second half of my brain @garbinge because she sent me This Post by @creativepromptsforwriting and that’s what got this all going. Love you lots! xo

Warnings: language, very slight steam, minor mentions of blood/injuries

Word Count: 5.1k

A/N: Before anyone says anything, YES I am willfully ignoring some of the things we’ve recently discovered about canon!Nestor lmao. Let me have this 😂 This is all just soft, my friends. I needed some softness after how my week has gone and Nestor is my comfort character so it only made sense that it went this way haha. Hope you guys enjoy! xo

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Touching Foreheads: Nestor almost always rests his forehead against yours after a long kiss. He’ll usually close his eyes and just focus on the feeling of you so close to him. After a long, hard day, those few seconds of silence and closeness are how he centers himself.

Running Fingers Through Hair: The first time you ever saw Nestor’s hair out of braids, you almost lost your mind. How he managed to tame it so well all the time was amazing to you. You were always big on playing with stray locks of it, especially when he got out of the shower. When the two of you were curled up on the couch together, you found yourself absentmindedly playing with the ends of his curls. Sometimes you caught yourself and were afraid it bothered him, but you noticed that he slowly started wearing it down more and more often at home, and it made you smile.

Hiding Face in Neck: Whenever you do this to him, his hand automatically comes up to cradle the back of your head. It never fails to make him smile—he finds it to be adorable. His favorite is when he can feel your lips curl into a smile against his neck, or when he can feel your laughter against his skin.

Caressing the Other’s Hand: Nestor is notorious for doing this to you while he drives. One hand on the wheel, one hand on you, always. He’s either tracing patterns on your hand, or resting his hand on your thigh. He also loves when you do it to him while the two of you watch movies together—your eyes are on the screen but your fingers have a mind of their own.

Feeling Their Pulse: The few times that you’ve had to go to the hospital for him, it was always the first thing you would do. Didn’t matter what the doctors or monitors hooked up to him said, you had to check for yourself. Sometimes he’d be barely awake and try to crack a joke about it and you would roll your eyes through the tears, because of course he would have sarcastic remarks at a time like that.

Patting the Other’s Head: It was something that the two of you would do to each other in passing. When one was laying with their head leaning against the arm of the couch, it was almost impulsive. You remember the first time you did it to Nestor and he looked up at you, a confused expression on his face. He thought that you were trying to get his attention, or maybe crack a joke, but you just kept walking. The first time he did it back to you was to see how you’d react, but you’d just smile and continue doing whatever you were doing, sometimes letting out a quiet hum of approval. So now it was just something that each of you did, a type of acknowledgment without having to speak.

Holding Hands: He’s never been big on casual hand-holding. He’ll hold it in the car sometimes, but usually one of the only times he’s holding your hand is when the two of you are walking through somewhere together, whether it’s a crowded store or whatever business parties and functions he has to go to with the Galindos. Keeping his fingers interlocked in yours is his way of making sure that he doesn’t stray too far from you.

Shielding the Other One with Their Body: Nestor spends so much of his life ready to dive in front of bullets or whatever other danger is thrown Miguel’s way. Needless to say, his life with you doesn’t quite carry the same risks, and he works very hard to keep it that way. However, the second that he senses that someone is giving you a hard time, or making you uncomfortable in any way, he won’t hesitate to place himself between you and the other person. He’ll gently nudge you behind him, keeping a protective hand reached back and placed on your hip to provide you with whatever comfort he can while he addresses whoever was causing the issue.

Listening to the Other’s Heartbeat: Before you, he’d never met someone who found it so comforting to listen to it. Most times when you were laid up on the couch together, you’d sprawl at least partially on top of him so that you could press your ear to his chest, close your eyes, and just focus to the rhythmic beat. It was always comforting, but he never understood how much it really meant for you until one day you crawled up into his hospital bed with him and did it, and he felt your body start to tremble against his. After that he started doing it to you, too, and he started to understand the security it gave you.

Spooning At Night: He’s a Big Spoon all the way. He likes being able to wrap his arms around you and keep you pulled close. He’ll tangle his legs up with yours to soak up all the contact with you that he can. This is one of the only times that he’ll nestle his face into your neck, because it makes him feel all that much closer to you. You enjoy the feeling of his chest rising and falling against your back, and he likes feeling like he’s as close to you as he can get.

Laying Their Hand on the Other’s Neck: You rested your hands on either side of his neck all the time. You’d idly trace over the ink there as the two of you stood and talked. More often than not your hands would slide from the sides of his neck to the back and pull him into a kiss, and he’d always let you. One of his hands covered an entire half of your neck. It made you feel small, but it was also comforting to soak up all the warmth emanating from his palm.

Pushing a Strand of Hair Behind Their Ear: He’d blown the same stray lock of hair out of his face at least four times while he was working on his laptop, but he didn’t make any move to actually fix the issue. You watched from the opposite end of the couch with a small smile on your face, trying not to let your amusement be too obvious. Once he did it again you shook your head and leaned forward so you were sitting upright, motioning for him to lean in closer to you. He leaned in, expecting you to say something, or kiss him, but instead you reached out and carefully tucked the unruly strands behind his ear with a quiet laugh before collapsing back into your previous position. He sat there and watched you for a moment before shaking his head, smiling as he went back to his work.

Nudging the Other One: You were always nudging him. It was your preferred way of getting his attention. Whether you were on the couch watching a TV show and something was happening that was exciting you, or you were out shopping and you saw something that you thought looked really cool. You were always bumping his shoulder lightly with your own. At first he didn’t realize it was your preferred way of communicating your excitement, or trying to get his attention. But now feeling the slight bump against his shoulder immediately snapped him to attention.

Putting an Arm Around the Other’s Waist: You usually did this in response to him draping his arm around your shoulders. If the two of you were walking down the street he’d almost always wrap his arm around you, and your body’s natural reaction was to put your arm around his waist and pull yourself closer against his side. Sometimes he’d wrap his arm around yours if he was communicating to someone that you were with him, and vice-versa. You’d feel his fingers put pressure against your hip and you’d smile, knowing that he was proving a point to someone.

Hugging Each Other: Nestor wasn’t a big hugger until he was with you. It just wasn’t something that he had a lot growing up, and in their world of business, genuine hugs were far and few between. The adjustment after he started dating you was a bit odd for him, but now a long, tight hug from you breathed a whole new life into him. It’s the first thing he looks to do after a bad day.

Massaging Them: The first time you asked Nestor to give you a massage there was nothing but panic written all over his face. He wasn’t used to using his hands for something so gentle and intimate. He was afraid he’d do it wrong and hurt you. So you offered to give him one first and even that he hesitated on, not used to being so vulnerable and relaxed with someone. You started off by just working his shoulders and neck, but he practically turned to jello in your hands and then it didn’t take much convincing after that. The first time he gave you a back massage and you told him to just straddle your hips while you were lying on your stomach, the smirk that came across his face was priceless, and shortly thereafter massages became a favorite lazy-day activity.

Holding the Other’s Chin Up: Usually he’d place his hand on the side of your neck and then position his thumb underneath your chin, forcing you to tilt your head up and look at him if the two of you were having a difficult conversation. It was a soft but firm reminder of where his focus was. He’d always been big on eye contact with you, and when you were upset it mattered all that much more.

Squishing the Other’s Cheek: He hates when you do it. Or, rather, he acts like he hates it. But underneath the eye rolls and the shaking of his head, you can see him fighting to contain a smile. It was always done in jest, and to get a bit of a rise out of him, and it always worked.

High Fiving: The first time you held your hand out for a high five, he almost didn’t do it. He couldn’t remember the last time that he’d given someone a high five over anything. But you’d come home with some really exciting news, and when you finished your story you held your hand up for a high five, and for a solid almost ten seconds he looked back and forth between you and your hand before realizing that you were serious about it.

Bandaging/Stitching Up an Injury: You do more of that than you care to admit when it comes to Nestor. You never got less worried for him, but your annoyance levels varied as time went on. You thought that he’d get mad but you’d be muttering under your breath as you cleaned out his knuckles and put bandages in the gashes on his face but when you’d look at him, he’d be smiling. You’d ask why and one time he told you he was glad that you were comfortable enough to not only stitch him up, but also let him know that you thought he was an idiot sometimes. He liked the balance in your care for him, and it got both of you to laugh despite the bloody gauze around you.

Kissing the Other’s Brow: Nestor’s go-to while he was hugging you, along with kissing your temple. For you, the feeling was always coupled with him squeezing his arms a little tighter around you for a moment as he pressed his lips gently there. It was the first step in comforting you after a bad day.

Falling Asleep on the Other’s Shoulder: The first time he looked down and saw that you had fallen asleep on him in the middle of a movie at your place was when he stopped trying to deny the fact that he was in love with you. You looked so peaceful and content slumped against his side. He didn’t dare disturb you, even when his arm started to go numb. Instead, he just settled back against the couch and chose another movie to put on.

Carrying the Other One in Their Arms: This usually follows you falling asleep on his shoulder. You’d usually wake up as he lifted you, sleepily wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning into his chest as he walked to the bedroom. Sometimes you’d grumble and groan about him waking you up, but it was never too long before you fell right back to sleep. His favorite was the rare occasions that he had to carry you inside after you had too much to drink, because you’d be leaning into him, talking and flirting with him like you were still trying to pick him up at the bar, despite the fact that you lived together.

Whispering in Their Ear, Lips Touching the Skin: One of the few things that you’ve seen make Nestor let out an involuntary shiver. It drives him crazy in the best way, and regardless of how the two of you are positioned, his hands instantly start to roam and trail all over your body, silently encouraging you to keep going.

Stroking the Other’s Arm Soothingly: When you did it to him, you were usually following the outlines and designs of the ink that covered his arms. He’d watch you as you focused intently on the ink, smiling at how entranced you got by it. Sometimes when he spooned you, he’d lazily drag his fingers up and down your forearm to give just that extra bit of affection as the two of you laid there together. Depending on how tired you were, sometimes it would tickle and hearing your sleepy giggle made his entire body feel warm.

Kissing the Top of Their Head: Nestor did this if you were sitting at the table or on the couch and he was walking by you to take care of something that would take more than a minute or two—like a phone call about work or going to take a shower. If he was going to the kitchen to cook he’d make sure he stopped to kiss the top of your head before getting immersed in his cooking plans. Sometimes you’d look up at him and make him kiss you on the lips as well, other times you would smile as you continued whatever activity you were enthralled in.

Pulling the Other One Towards Them: Nestor could tell from the second you walked in the door whether you had a bad day or not. If you had, he would immediately walk over to you and pull you into a hug, letting you lean into his chest. On the opposite end of that spectrum, if the two of you were arguing and you tried to storm away mid-argument, he’d reach out and tug you back towards him—never forcefully, but he hated not resolving things and he’d all but beg for you to not storm off.

Feeling For Each Other in the Dark: Something that became second-nature to you once you started living together. He got home late a lot, and while he was usually pretty quiet and careful about getting into bed without disturbing you, every now and then it’d wake you up and even half-conscious you still reached out for him, and in those moments, he really knew what it felt like to be wanted.

Tickling: Once Nestor found out you were ticklish, it was game over. Any time you were trying to pout or be dramatic about something small, it was how he got you to laugh and abandon any plans of keeping a petty argument going. Did it sometimes result in him getting an accidental kick to the stomach? Maybe. But it was worth it to see you laughing so hard tears were starting to trickle down your cheeks. Nestor was ticklish too, but any time you would try to get him he would be one step ahead and somehow you would still end up on the receiving end of it.

Grabbing Onto Their Arm: The first time you watched a scary movie together, Nestor thought that you were going to snap his bicep in half with how hard you were squeezing onto it. It wasn’t what he expected from you—you seemed so unfazed by most things. One time he grabbed your arm while the two of you were out and about and it caught you off-guard, but you came to realize that he only did that when he felt like there was something off wherever you were, and you became very responsive to his touch, immediately making sure you stayed closer to his side.

Pinky Swears: Another thing that he couldn’t remember doing since childhood. But he realized that you used them for little reassurances that were actually big reassurances. The most common reason that you would lock him into one was when he told you he would be leaving for work for a few days. “Promise you’ll come home in one piece?” you’d ask. He’d smile and nod, “Promise.” And then you’d hold your pink out, “Pinky promise?” He’d lock his pinky with yours and pull you close to kiss you on the lips, “Pinky promise.”

Caressing the Other’s Back: Nestor was big on slipping his hands underneath the fabric of your shirt so he could run his hands up and down your back while he held you. Whether you were standing and hugging, or you were laying on his chest, he liked being able to feel the softness of your skin underneath his fingertips. Sometimes, when he was sitting at the table hunched over his computer, you’d materialize behind him and use your palm to run circles into his back, gently reminding him that he’d have to go to sleep eventually.

Tasting Their Smile: Feeling Nestor smile while he kissed you was one of your favorite things in the world. You’d cup his face in both your hands as you pressed your lips to his and soon enough you could feel him smiling as he held you tight. Sometimes the two of you would be trying to kiss through the laughter and it was clumsy but it was perfect.

Washing the Other’s Body: The first time that you climbed into the shower with Nestor without the intention of fooling around, it caught him off-guard. He’d had a rough go of it with whatever he was doing with Galindo, and he’d come home dirty and blood, instantly making his way to the bathroom to wash off stress. You gave him a minute or two to himself before getting in with him. He’d sighed as he rested his forehead against yours, and it was the most defeated you’d ever seen him. You kissed him and told him to turn around and you gently started to wash all the blemishes and stains from his skin. He was tense at first, but he gradually eased into it and took comfort in you taking care of him. He would do the same for you, too, hands tenderly running body wash all over you as he soaked up the way you’d relax and smile at his touch.

Kissing Bruises and Scars: He never liked talking about how he got his many miscellaneous scars, and you never pressed him about it. Nonetheless, in the small hours of the morning when the two of you were laid up together, you’d find yourself lightly kissing over them. He’d look at you with a soft smile, not commenting on it one way or the other. By the same token, when he laid with you and noticed a new bruise on your arm or leg, he’d ask where it came from. Nine times out of ten you had no idea, and usually didn’t notice them until he said something. He’d kiss them, telling you to be more careful, and you’d laugh, telling him that something wasn’t quite right about him telling you to be more careful.

Lifting the Other One Up: Watching you climb on chairs and counters at home stressed Nestor out more than it should’ve. But one day he saw you getting ready to climb up onto the counter to get a pot from the top shelf and before you could prop your leg up, he just walked up behind you and lifted you up so you could grab it. Could it have grabbed it himself? Sure. Would that have been easier? Probably. But was it the hardest you’d laughed in a while when you realized what he was doing? Definitely. Now if he was able to catch it in time, he’d always prop you up to help you out, but mostly just to hear the laughter it caused.

Putting Their Head on the Other’s Chest: Nestor very rarely laid on you, but when he was exhausted and feeling defeated, he would situate himself between your legs and rest his head on your chest to listen to your heartbeat. And, more often than not, it was a silent invitation to play with his hair because it soothed him. You always defaulted to laying against his chest, but on the rare occasions that he did it to you, you made sure to be extra attentive and careful with him. It was sad but also calming in a way to feel his chest rise and fall against you as he wrapped his arms around you.

Stroking Their Leg: If you were on one end of the couch and Nestor was sitting in the middle, he almost always pulled your legs so that they were draped over his lap. And if he wasn’t doing anything besides watching a show or a movie, he almost always found himself grazing his fingers up and down your shins. Usually you’d be scrolling on your phone or doing things on your laptop, and you’d flick your eyes up to look at him but he would be completely enthralled with the movie, hardly noticing what he was doing. But you took comfort in the sensation of the pads of his fingers going up to your knee and back down again.

Leaning Into the Other’s Side: Even if you didn’t start out that way, any time the two of you sat near each other you always gravitated towards him and ended up leaning on him. You didn’t always mean to—it was like a subconscious pull. Nestor noticed but he never said anything about it, liking that you always wanted to be close. He’d wrap his arm around your shoulders to invite you to be as close as you wanted, and you never turned down the invitation.

Patting Them on the Back: More often than not, if you were patting him on the back it was usually to punctuate a reminder while he was working. You’d casually remind him that he hadn’t eaten anything all night, “So you might wanna get on that, baby,” you’d give him a gentle pat on the back or the shoulder before walking away, leaving him to whatever he was immersed in. It was usually enough to snap him out of it, to get him to tap back into reality long enough to take care of himself. Sometimes you coupled it with reassurance, telling him that whatever the issue was, he’d figure it out, and he would relish the way your hand felt against his back.

Sitting Close, Knees Touching: It reminded you of when you first started dating—the timid amount of pressure he’d apply when his leg was next to yours. If he had been feeling especially bold, he’d reach out and rest his hand on your knee. Those days were so long ago now, but you still smiled when you thought about them. But these days, that was how the two of you usually ended up when you were gaming together. You’d be sitting on the very edge of the couch, legs pressed against each other as you fought the urge to push each other off the sofa. It was a position that was almost always coupled with laughter and good-natured goading as you tried to mess each other up.

Braiding Hair: Nestor’s braids were, obviously, near and dear to him. You never offered to do them because you understood that he was very particular with them and you respected that. However, when his arm got busted up after things got rough on the job, and he couldn’t really move it for a few weeks, he had almost no choice but to ask you to take a crack at it. You were nervous, but probably not as nervous as he was. You took your time, wanting to get it just right. It was relaxing for him to just be doted on, but when he saw that you could actually do the braids well, it was a whole new sense of relief for him.

Piggy-Back Rides: Another thing that was born out of injuries. You messed up your ankle while you were trying to take care of things in the back yard, and for whatever reason instead of lifting you up the way that he usually did, he opted to give you a piggy-back ride instead. You had been in so much pain at the time that you just agreed, not caring how you got from Point A to Point B. But once the moment and the pain had passed, you reflected back on it and brought it up. Truthfully, he’d been flustered and for whatever reason that was the automatic thing that his brain told him to do.

Sitting on the Other’s Lap: He loved when you curled up in his lap. Even if you weren’t engaging in the same activity, he liked having you so close to him. You’d do it a lot while you were reading, book extremely close to your face as you got lost in the story, while he would work his way through another episode of his favorite show, every now and then looking to see what emotion the book was eliciting from you.

Feeling Their Temperature: Nestor “It’s Just Allergies” Oceteva. He never wants to admit when he’s sick, claiming that he doesn’t have the time to be sick. But one morning you woke up and rolled to look at him, and he looked like death warmed over. You knew that the cold he’d been ignoring had finally gotten the better of him. You reached forward, placing the back of your hand against his forehead and you silently shook your head as you got up and started to pull some things together to hopefully help him start to feel better. He took the tea from you begrudgingly when he woke up, “I’m not even that sick—I don’t need all this.” You nodded, “Sure you don’t,” you laid a damp cloth across his forehead.

Linking Arms with Each Other: Your favorite way to drag him to something that he didn’t want to do. If you saw a store that you wanted to go into but you knew he wouldn’t be thrilled around, you would immediately loop your arm through his and make your way towards the door, knowing that he wouldn’t want to put up enough of a fight to stop you. You’d laugh at your very small victory, and sometimes just to throw you off your rhythm he’d loop his arm a little tighter to throw you off-balance, just enough to make you lean on him, making you both laugh.

Touching Their Elbow to Get Their Attention: While Nestor would place his hand on your waist or the small of your back while you were at home together to get your attention, any time you were in public he made an intentional point to always touch your elbow to get your attention. He’d heard you rant before about how much it bothered you and made you uncomfortable when men you didn’t know would try and get your attention or ask you to move by touching your lower back, and ever since then he tried to lead by example. So if you came with him to work functions or anything of the sort, he always made sure to tap your elbow or shoulder to get your attention, and any time he saw someone else not following suit, his gaze very quickly corrected them.

Dancing with Each Other: Nestor wasn’t a dancer by any stretch of the imagination. But sometimes he’d get home late, or come out from the shower, and you’d be dancing in the kitchen while you cleaned, or while you waited for whatever you were baking in the oven to finish, and it was hard to not get swept up by you. You’d reach out and take his hands in yours and he just couldn’t tell you no. He’d twirl you around and spin you so you were pressed flush against him. Dancing always led to smiles and soft laughs as the two of you traipsed around your little kitchen together, making the most of it all.

Holding Onto the Other’s Shoulders For Support: “Lean on me,” you looped your arm around Nestor’s middle back as he slowly got out of the car. “I’m not gonna le—” You didn’t let him finish the sentence, “Just do it! You don’t get to argue with me while you’re bleeding.” He huffed and grumbled under his breath in protest but he rested his hand on your shoulder, gripping it slightly as he leaned onto you for support. It was a short walk from your car to the emergency room, but you could tell that every step of the way he hated the fact that you were holding him up. You shook your head slightly at him as he limped along, his fingers pressing firmly into the soft skin of your shoulder.

Putting a Hand Over the Other’s Mouth to Shut Them Up: Always done in jest. He liked to do it to you when you were beating him in a debate, and you did it to him when he was giving you valid reasons not to worry about something that you were stressing about. The only difference was when he would do it to you, you’d lick his hand and he would instantly release you. It always amused you, because out of everything that had ever happened to him, that was where he drew the line. When you did it to him, though, he would just stop talking and look at you with raised eyebrows, and even though you couldn’t see his mouth you knew that he had a smug grin on his face because you knew that he was right.

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #nestor oceteva #nestor oceteva x reader #nestor oceteva x you #nestor oceteva imagine #50 types of touch #fanfiction #my writing #drabblesmc

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sortasirius · 4 years

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“Gimme Shelter” and The Bomb

Living in the middle of clown town is always an adventure but they’re recently opened a five star restaurant that’s free to all residents so we’re eatin good lmao.

Wow. Uh. Wow. Lots and lots and lots to unpack here.

This is.........long lmao

I mean. Should we just talk about some of the *cough cough* married details we’ve got going on? That picture of Cas from “Tombstone”? Who took that? Who else COULD have taken that? Why is it a printed photo that Cas just happens to have? Why did it look like it was cut in half?

Okay, I also want to talk about the energy between Dean and Cas, and not the energy of two intensely married people. We haven’t seen them together that much since 15x09 right? I mean we’ve had bits here and there, but to me something still feels off. I just can’t help but go back to the unresolved ending of their time in Purgatory (”I have to say something.” “You don’t have to say it, I heard your prayer.”). It just feels like there’s awkwardness hanging in the air, like when Dean and Sam leave right when Cas gets back, or the way that Dean hangs up on him. It feels like we’re supposed to be sus, which I most definitely am. Things aren’t 100% fixed, even though they’d like us to believe that they are.

Baby man Jack? “Marvelous Marvin the talking teddy, I have one!”

Also just,

“Can we wear matching ties?!”

“Yeah, blue’s a good color on you.”

I CRY.

I think it’s FASCINATING that Rowena is spending her time in Hell making things “boring” for demons, changing things. “People will end up where they belong.” There is NO WAY that’s throwaway.

“Hello! Where can I find the Kool Aid.”

Literal king.

There are a lot of ~parallels~ in this episode, a whole lot of callbacks, and not in the jokey oh hey remember that episode. There are all very deliberate and coded carefully into the dialogue so that even people who watch casually and pay attention will pick up on them.

“We...dated. Years ago, sort of. More like we watched a lot of old movies together.”

Ok.

Which, nbd, same exact fucking episode as

Come on guys. Just like. Come on. Davy. My man.

Good to point out too that Davy Perez also wrote “Tombstone.”

I just want to take a second and appreciate that we at got this Amara this season. No weird drama between her and Dean, just a literal badass who knows she’s a badass. Dabb and co are going to save every poorly written character before this is over.

Cas’ fucking speech y’all.

“I do know what blind faith is. I used to just follow orders without question, and I did some pretty terrible things. I would never look beyond the plan. And then of course when it all came crashing down, I found myself lost. I didn’t know what my purpose was anymore. And then one day something changed, something amazing. I...I guess I found a family. And I became a father. And in that, I rediscovered my faith. And I rediscovered who I am.”

First of all, we deserved to see this from Cas. We deserve to hear him talk about how much he’s grown, how much he’s changed from the “soldier” in season 4.

Cas found who he was with Jack, with Sam, with Dean. He found out he was a Winchester. His love for others is so palpable this episode, the way he mother hens around Jack, the way he looks at Dean, I just completely adore him, and I loved being able to see him reflect on his own growth.

Okay, moving along to Amara and Dean’s convo...fuck man. F U C K.

Dean’s pain in this scene. His pain over Mary, over the lack of choice. It’s so palpable, and I don’t think anything could have prepared me for Amara’s answer to his “Why?”

“I wanted two things for you, Dean. I wanted you to see that your mother was just a person. That the myth that you’d held on to for so long of a better life, a life where she’d lived was just that. Myth. I wanted you to see that the real, complicated Mary was better than your childhood dream because she was real. That now is always better than then. That you could finally start to accept your life.”

“Hm. And the second thing?”

“I thought having her back would release you. Put that fire out. Your anger. But I guess we both know I failed at that.”

His anger.

His anger through the whole season.

His inability to let go of the anger.

Dean’s anger, his inability to let go, we now know, of course, that his happiness didn’t come from Mary. He still had the fire, he still couldn’t let go of the anger, the rage. So what is it? Not even Amara knows what will bring him peace, she just knows that her solution failed.

And then, as if we needed more parallels to this season:

“I’m furious. To learn that all my life I’ve been nothing but a hamster in a wheel, stuck in a story.”

If that line sounded familiar to you. It’s because it is.

It’s not a common phrase, especially since Davy Perez FILLED this episode with callbacks. We’re in the endgame, nothing is unimportant.

For Dean to bring this line back up, right after Amara tells him that she thought that Mary would bring him peace, that she was wrong in that assumption. For that line to get brought back up when Dean talks about his anger in that scene with Cas, right in the middle of their breakup, where the whole catalyst of his prayer is about his anger, how he can’t let go of his anger. How he’s sorry he got so angry at Cas.

Bruh.

And then, as if all of this wasn’t enough. Jack drops the twist. That he has to die to kill Chuck and Amara.

It’s his own version of the empty deal. That isn’t a mistake. Both are going to come into play, Jack’s deal and Cas’. Mirrors of each other.

Putting his hand on Cas’ shoulder, telling him his death is not Cas’ choice, but his own. I think this, this scene is going to come back into play.

And then to end the episode with Cas telling Dean, telling him about Jack’s death.

“In case something goes wrong and I don’t make it back, there’s something you and Sam need to know.”

So...our fluff episodes are over.

There’s so much in this episode, but what I think bears repeating at the end is Dean’s anger, what will bring him peace, Jack’s impending death, and Cas’ deal. All of these are going to be our catalysts moving forward. Dean’s anger arc isn’t over, just as Cas’ deal hasn’t been resolved. Next week ~seems~ like it’ll be a fluff episode, but I am certain that it won’t be. There’s gotta be some big to do about what Cas is going to tell Dean.

Idk what to tell y’all other than the volume inside of this clown car is astronomical.

#supernatural #spoilers #spn 15x15 #spn #my meta #destiel

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iamanartichoke · 3 years

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[please blacklist spoiler tags: #loki tv series spoilers, #loki series spoilers, #loki spoilers]

I need to talk about the Avengers.

I just want to express how much I hate that the Avengers aren’t on the hook for all their time travel nonsense bc they were “supposed to” do it and Loki is on the hook bc he wasn’t.

I mean, I am glad that they addressed it right away - that Loki was inadvertantly caught up in the Avengers' time meddling, and that apparently they were doing what they were supposed to and that's why none of them were on trial, but - there are two things going on here that I have issue with. One is, of course, the scapegoating of Loki once a-fucking-gain, but the other is that there's a legitimate problem inherent in framing the Avengers' deeds as The Right Thing So There Are No Consequences, especially because it directly leads to Loki (and only Loki) being scapegoated since, apparently, someone's got to answer for all of this.

Why Were The Avengers Supposed to Undo the Snap??

Of all the possible options they could have gone with (such as reversing time back to just before the Snap happened), going back through time to gather the stones and use them to undo things five years later is, like, one of the worst?? Best case scenario, it implies that the TVA is ridiculously incompetent in managing the sacred timeline and worst case scenario, it implies that the TVA is ridiculously adept in managing the sacred timeline, if their goal is to have it be the worst possible timeline anyone could end up in.

The Avengers may have done an arguably good thing in undoing the Snap - I don't disagree that those people should've lived - but they also royally fucked over a lot of things in the process and left Earth (and presumably many many other worlds) in total post-Snap chaos while fucking off to die be with their families and/or start new lives.

This goes back to the plan itself. One of my many issues with Endgame is that not only is the plan convoluted and, frankly, stupid, but also I have a real problem with the concept of the Avengers just saving the world as they see fit, regardless of whether or not that's actually the best thing to do. (If the Russos hadn't done such a shit job with explaining what the Accords were actually supposed to do, then maybe this could have been addressed somehow - like, okay, together we may have the brains and resources to carry off this plan but does that mean we're the ultimate authority on whether or not we should? Maybe we should check with, like, the UN or something about this? [and it’s entirely possible the UN was mentioned and I have forgotten it bc I’ll be honest, I watched Endgame once and have bitched about it ever since.] I digress.)

The narrative in Endgame and into the MCU beyond plays like the Avengers only care about saving the world when they stand to personally gain from it (they want their friends and family back, they want to feel like they didn't fail, they have unilaterally decided that what they want is the Best Thing for everyone) and once the Good Deed is done and the smoke clears from the battlefield, there's no concern with saving the mess of the world they created.

TFatWS addressed so many of the problems with the post-reverse-Snap, which implies that the MCU (both in-universe and out) is aware that things are fucked up now. People's lives were literally ruined by what the Avengers did. Refugees are displaced. Humans are coming back to a world where they've been dead for five years and their loved ones have moved on and their homes have been sold and their bank accounts have been closed and they have no jobs. And that’s just on Earth. Yet no one (again, both in-universe and out) feels the need to hold the Avengers accountable for any of this.

Plus, what about the people who died as a result of the Snap but not from the Snap directly? What about the planes that fell from the sky when the pilots turned to dust? The cars that crashed and collided when the drivers poofed? Etc. Like, fuck all of those people I guess?

And who, exactly, is "supposed to" clean up the Avengers' mess now that the actual Avengers are either dead, old and living on the moon, or retired? Is it on Sam's shoulders alone (or, rather, Sam and Bucky's)? Is Peter Parker (yknow, the 15 year old Nick Fury went and recruited bc there was no one else) supposed to be fixing things?

The TVA takes responsibility for none of this. They sit back in their nightmare DMV-esque office and claim that all is as it should be but my question remains: please explain to me how the outcome of the post-Snap universe is ultimately satisfactory to anyone besides the Avengers?

There's also the fact that Loki figures out right away that the Avengers were engaging in some time travel shenanigans ("the cologne of two Tony Starks is hard to miss” lmfao Loki you snarky shit). Loki recognizes that there's been an opportunity created of which he can take advantage, but he isn't responsible for creating it. The Avengers messed up and created that opportunity so, even if they were supposed to be doing what they were doing, there are still no consequences for the fact that they made a mistake that allowed Loki to then branch off and create a new timeline.

Let's also say that we accept that the Avengers were supposed to undo the Snap exactly as they did. Okay, sure. BUT:

- Was Steve, then, also supposed to decide to fuck back off to the 1940s and marry Peggy (which created two Steves, right? The one who was married to Peggy all along and the one who was in the ice?? The TVA is just okay with two Steves?)?

- What is the actual point of Stephen Strange having the time stone and using the time stone both to gain the advantage over Darmammushumuuyourmom (I’m sorry, I can’t remember his real name) and to look at all the possible timelines to figure out how to defeat Thanos?

- How is it possible that there are 14 million potential timelines in which the Avengers failed if the TVA’s entire thing is that there can only be one true ring timeline to rule them all? The fact that Stephen can look ahead and determine so many outcomes based on the choices they're making would mean that people do have free will and that their actions aren't automatically dictated by what's “supposed to” happen. They had to make the right choices in order to get to the one timeline in which Thanos failed.

- What’s the point of Stephen having to protect the time stone, anyway, if there are presumably a few others in Casey’s drawer?

- On that note, if there are a lot of infinity stones hanging around in the TVA’s desk drawers, what makes the original six the specific, correct ones that Thanos had to collect in order to pull off the Snap and why is it then those specific six the ones that the Avengers had permission to go back through time to get in order to undo the Snap as the Timekeepers intended?

- And actually, in fact, if there’s only one sacred timeline and anyone who fucks it up without permission gets “reset” (aka made nonexistent, along with their timeline branch) then, again, why does Stephen have to protect the time stone? Either anyone who steals it was supposed to, or their timeline gets eliminated and the theft ceases to matter.

- Less significant but also still kinda significant is how Agents of SHIELD figures into all of this. The TVA knows that Loki killed Coulson but they don't know (or don't care?) that Coulson was brought back to life and proceeded, with his team, to go on and get heavily involved in time travel and going back and forth and bringing people from the past into the present? So the TVA is okay with Daniel Sousa leaving his timeline but not with Loki leaving his?

... I have literally confused myself with all of this, so if anyone followed my train of thought here, congratulations and maybe you can explain it to me lmao.

But here's my ultimate point: the sacred timeline that the TVA is tasked with maintaining is not sensical or linear. It's full of gaps and holes and people taking matters into their own hands to determine both their own fates and the fates of others. As a result, a lot of people suffer kinda needlessly based on the events in said timeline, and apparently it's perfectly fine for all of this nonsense to occur so that everyone else has some element of control -

- but Loki is literally the only one who is told uh, actually, no, you are supposed to live a shitty life and die a pointless death and there's not a goddamn thing you can do about it bc it's supposed to happen.

What in the actual fuck kind of logic is that???

Thus, either the TVA (and the Timekeepers) are grossly incompetent, or else they're extremely competent and also really fucking shitty beings who just enjoy the needless suffering of others.

And somehow this is all Loki's fault!!

And then Mobius has the fucking audacity to say, to Loki's face, “you only exist to prop up everyone else and you, Loki Odinsonson Laufeyson mischief god and king of space lol, do not have any inherent worth or value as your own person. You were born to be a scapegoat and you will die a scapegoat and there's no getting around that, if we have anything to say about it.”

To quote Loki, in a very twisted way - yes, it's funny. It's absurd.

Does, uh, does this make sense? At some point I crossed over from meta-writing into straight up ranting and so, well, here we are.

#loki tv series spoilers #loki series spoilers #loki spoilers #loki series: glass half empty #loki series: glass half full #loki pokey artichokey #loki series meta #so. many. tags. ugh #i no longer know what my point was #i'm sorry #so it begins #the rambly nonsensical meta lmao #some of you tell me sometimes that you enjoy my meta and my takes and i just #i love you but srsly who is paying you bc #*waves helplessly at the above word vomit*#loki series negativity #not really negativity so much as criticism (that i think is valid) but yknow fandom #also i recognize all of this as issues that i - if no one else - have a problem with #but i still liked the show????#i am not hating at all #i am just acknowledging that this whole premise is fucked up and i'm not sure if it's supposed to be #or if the writers just don't realize all of the implications in their decisions #to be fair i'm sure that they're working with what they had - ie the original nonsensical endgame events #but is this really the *best* they could do? cause i beg to differ that they were written into this small of a corner #ANYWAY #i gotta go do some actual work now #tag rambles

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purplesurveys · 2 years

Text

1532

1. Are you embarrassed / uncomfortable dancing in front of other people? For the most part, especially if it’s a choreographed dance. I think the only three settings I’d be fine with dancing in are at a bar, at a concert, and at a club and that’s obviously because nobody cares when people start dancing in those places haha.

2. Would you ever consider styling your hair as a mohawk? No. It wouldn’t be my style.

3. Do you have any friends that only bother to communicate with you when they need something from you? Or, do you do that to any of your friends? I haven’t felt this from any of my friends; on my end I also try to be watchful with my interactions so that I don’t come off as this type of person. I do have a high school batchmate who reaches out at least once a year to ask for monetary support for her family (she has three kids). As much as I want to help, I just don’t want her to end up being too dependent on others - as is unfortunately very common Filipino behavior - especially since I’ve heard she does this with every one of our batchmates.

4. Have you ever curled up in front of a fireplace, whether alone or with someone? I’ve never been anywhere with a fireplace. I’d be surprised if I saw one in this country.

5. Do you ever drink directly from beverage containers because you don’t want to dirty a cup? No. I feel like that would mess with the beverage and make it go rancid sooner, so I’ve never done that.

6. When you come across surveys with poor grammar, do you fix it or pass on doing the survey because it’s too difficult to comprehend? I’ll fix it.

7. Have you ever accidentally dumped something sticky into your keyboard? How did you go about fixing it? No, fortunately. That would drive me crazy; even just food crumbs irritate me already so I can’t imagine how agitated I’d be if my keyboard (and laptop) got all sticky.

8. If you were in a situation where you had only enough money to pay for either a necessity [medicine, hygiene products, food, whatever] or something you just wanted - would you honestly purchase the thing you needed over the thing you wanted? Yes. That is something I would like to call The Effect of the Pandemic lmao. There was one point we really only had to buy the essentials every two weeks, and we also ended up having to sell one of our cars. My dad also had to take up a side job as a delivery rider so that he could earn during the time all cruise ships stopped services and he couldn’t go back to his work.

9. Of all of the electronics you own [excluding kitchen appliances], which one do you use the least? The Switch.

10. Do you know any men that wear slippers? Yes. Is it supposed to be unique if men wore them? Lmao Filipinos wear slippers and flip-flops all the time so this question comes off as strange.

11. Are there any smudges on your computer screen? Do you neglect to clean it? Not really smudges but like small specks of dirt here and there on the screen. I clean my laptop at least once a month or as soon as I start to feel icky.

12. ^ Have you ever sneezed on your computer screen? No, I always turn to the side before I do.

13. Would you [now or back when you were younger] be more interested in karate classes or gymnastics? I feel like I would have been interested in karate and I’m pretty sure my 5 year old self had even raised this with my mom. I feel like I was the only Filipino kid who never enrolled in a taekwondo class lmao; I was made to take up ballet instead.

14. Is your bath tub [assuming you have one] big enough for two people to lay in comfortably together? We don’t have a bathtub.

15. How often do you get sock lint between your toes? I don’t wear socks enough for this to happen. < Same.

16. Have you ever created anything in either Bryce or Poser? What is this even talking about? Are they software apps? Hahaha.

17. If you carry a purse, roughly how big is it? What do you carry in it? I have a handbag, rather than a purse. It’s definitely too big for the stuff I usually carry, but I like the extra space for cases I’ll suddenly need to put extra things in it. Anyway, I never leave the house without my wallet, vaccination cards, phone charger, and my tumbler. Occasionally I’ll bring my laptop too.

18. Of all the pets you have had throughout your life, which one has meant the most to you? Is there a reason why? I love all the pets I’ve had and have, of course...but there would never be anything like my relationship with Kimi. He was with me in all the turbulent moments of my life, just patiently sitting by, being. Our need to be physically close to one another was consistently mutual, and he was, and continues to be, essentially an extension of my identity. I also didn’t go through suicide in the handful of times I planned mine because of him – because I didn’t know who else was going to look out for him as much as I did.

19. Have you / would you ever go spelunking? Sure! I had the chance before, just didn’t have the appropriate footwear haha; next time I find myself near a cave I’ll make sure I’m bringing the right shoes so I can finally join.

20. If you could either be fire resistant or breathe underwater, which would you rather be capable of? Fire resistant. Can come in handy during fires and animals would need to be saved.

21. Would you rather live in a cabin up in the snowy mountains, a busy city, or a house by the beach? Busy city. House by the beach is great as like a vacation spot that I’d visit a few times a year, but I don’t want to live permanently by the water; I’m scared of losing the magic I usually feel when I’m by the sea.

22. Do you find the idea of space more exciting or frightening? So exciting. I just want to keep learning how big it is and what else is out there.

23. Do you know anyone who works / has worked in a fast food restaurant? Do you look down upon people who work in such environments? I don’t think so, but I know my cousin worked at a café at one point. No, I don’t look down at any career and I have so much respect in particular for anyone in the service industry - fast food staff, department store crew, security guards, all of them. Some customers won’t be the nicest, so I try to do what I can to just be kind.

24. Assuming you have blown bubbles in your milk before, were you yelled at for doing it as a kid? Yeah we were lightly chided to not play with our food, but I wouldn’t say we were yelled at for it.

25. Do you think that fake plants are tacky? Have you ever seen any that looked real? No, I don’t think they’re tacky.

#survey #surveys

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morifinwes · 4 years

Note

Lauraa I finished all the fics, apart from decay (currently reading that now) and I love it sm! Especially the lip gloss one lmao the whole thing was so hilarious to me XD but also like the concept of lwj wearing lipgloss is >>> -yibobibo

@yibobibo then i'm going to rec you some more!! the lip gloss one was !!!!! ajsksks yes!! lwj wearing lipgloss is just so!! good!!

modern

this one is the painful one i talked about:

visitations by var_abelasan (12K, wip, divorced wangxian, post divorce, most of this is angst, uhm lowkey don't but also do want wangxian to end up together, it's messy, the jiangs & lans are shitty, wwx was in prison (brief mentions of that but it's kind of a major plot point), mxy & xy are the little brothers he never wanted but wwx picked them up anyways)

"Wei Ying-" Lan Zhan says, stutters, "I'm sorry."

And now Wei Wuxian sees it, the red rimming Lan Zhan's eyes, the rumpled edges of his blazer. There is an old, familiar urge for him to reach over, to hold Lan Zhan's hand and smooth his hair, to tell him that everything will be fine.

"We're all a bit sorry about this, I think," he says instead, and finds that he means it. For Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji and everyone else in that Guanyin temple, the pain must be unbearably fresh, like skin just flayed open. But Wei Wuxian's chest had been cracked open a long time ago, his wounds licked and cauterized and sewn shut over five long years - Ever hurting, but a dull, constant ache, "It's really alright, Lan Zhan."

Five years after being accused of corporate espionage and losing everything, the Guanyin Scandal breaks open and Wei Wuxian finds a familiar face at his door.

please don't let me be misunderstood by sysrae (3K, partly deaf!wwx, lwj notices, nobody else does though, idk wwx is like made out of fucking steel or some shit)

Lan Wangji has known Wei Ying for a fortnight, the first time he sees him get hit by a car.

light by redkosmos (10K, blind!lwj, which causes angst, but they manage it, best friends to lovers, fluff, lwj being insecure and feeling like a burden, college au kind of? but it doesn't matter too much)

The realization slowly dawns on him.

He can never again see the brightness of Wei Ying's eyes, the way they crescent when he smiles, never again see the rich black of his hair, the mess of it in the early mornings, never again see the beautiful tan of his skin, the beauty of the scars and marks adorned on it, how he wears his clothes, how it hugs his frame beautifully, how he looks like he's adorably swimming in cloth when he wears Lan Zhan's, and-

(Lan Zhan loses his vision in a car accident and learns to cope with it.)

don't leave me by trippinonskies (19K, brief very brief mention of lwj cheating, he doesn't but wwx is afraid lwj is cheating on him or just wants to break up with him, (he doesn't), marriage proposal, lwj acting distant = wwx's insecurities show up, fluff, angst and comfort)

Lan Zhan! Where are you lost today?” Wei Wuxian finally asks, at the end of his patience.

Lan Zhan looks a little guilty as he looks at Wei Wuxian, “Sorry, just a lot of work to deal with.”

Lie.

If there is one thing Lan Zhan can’t do, it’s lying. Especially to Wei Wuxian. But he doesn’t question Lan Zhan. He just accepts the reply, too scared to know that he is right. Too scared to know the truth.

// or where Lan Zhan is too hung up in planning the perfect proposal and ends up accidently ignoring Wei Wuxian making the other think that he wants to break up //

want you closer by xiaobucephalus ((3K, HORSES, only in the background tho, but wwx is an equestrian vet, which is so fucking valid bro, the lans own horses, a sick bunny, lwj the bunny parent!, super cute, dark bay throughoutbred chenqing is honestly so valid)

“Thank you,” Lan Zhan said, breathing a sigh of relief.

“Don’t thank me, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying laughed again, his voice warming the chill of fear that had settled in his chest. “I’ve been looking for an excuse to get into your hutch for a while anyway.”

safe in your thoughts by anonymous (20K, it's a cherry magic au???? (i haven't watched it, but you have i think?), horny lwj but only for wwx (always for wwx))

Wei Wuxian learns three very important things on the night of his twenty-seventh birthday.

One, that Lan Wangji is ridiculously funny, which Wei Wuxian had known before but what Wei Wuxain hadn’t expected was Lan Wangji to be funny at his brother’s expense.

Two, that Wei Wuxian had finally gone mad, absolutely mental at the ripe age of twenty seven because nothing else would explain the third thing he had learnt.

Third, and the most unbelievable of the lot, that Lan Wangji wants to fuck him.

iura by yoo_im_finally_writing (1K, only added bcs op is right and wwx would've the cutest german accent, it's more fun if you understand german so hit me up if you want translations for the german sentences)

Wei Ying calls in the middle of the night to talk about German law, and Lan Zhan tries very hard not to fall asleep. Or at least, not to let Wei Ying notice he's falling asleep. (As best friends do.)

breathe in the air, the last of its kind by wereworm / @neverdoingmuch (27K, getting together, jealous!lwj, but also kind of supportive, brief mention of cheating bcs of miscommunication, no actual cheating tho, college au, lwj pov)

Following Wei Ying’s line of sight, Lan Wangji can barely prevent a smile from crossing his lips when he sees the short row of rabbit statuettes placed at the front of the display. Silver, with bright gems for eyes, they look elegant yet lively and animated.

“A-Yuan would love one of those,” Wei Ying murmurs, almost as if to himself.

Lan Wangji frowns; the rabbits, while cute, don’t seem like a suitable gift for Wei Ying’s A-Yuan.

...

It’s only when he glances back at the rabbits and notices what has been placed on display behind them, that the pieces fall into place. They’re engagement rings, there’s no doubt about it. Lan Wangji feels his heart sink – Wei Ying isn’t just dating A-Yuan, he wants to propose to him.

Or: the five times Lan Wangji thinks that A-Yuan is Wei Ying’s boyfriend and the one time he learns the truth.

paint smears on sunny days by snowshadowao3 / @angstsexual (53K, getting together, art teacher!wwx, single parent!lwj, they're rich if i remember right, wwx & lwj are both good with kids!!!, this is so good actually, fluff)

To say that he runs to his car would be incorrect, as he is a Lan, and running is both undignified and unnecessary unless in immediate danger. Nor does he slam his key into the ignition, or aggressively swerve around the cars on the freeway, or have a mild panic attack at the fact he is picking A-Yuan up late from school for the first time ever.

He comes close, though.

By the time he arrives, it’s 4:35PM, and he has imagined about fifty different worse-case scenarios. The door is partly open when he gets to it, a messy label of 104B—Art Room scrawled with chalk on a placard next to the faded wood. As he opens it fully, he expects to see a wailing, terrified child, or perhaps a scene of utter misery and betrayal.

What he finds is his son, hands covered in paint, being sung to by a beautiful, dark-haired stranger.

“Ducks live in the pond, yellow ducks, happy ducks!”

Lan Wangji stops in his tracks.

(Or: Falling in love with your son’s art teacher, in five parts)

no bunny compares by gusucloudbunny (4K, god this is cute, fluff)

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian cornered his friend one week before his birthday. “If you could have anything in the world, what would it be?”

Lan Wangji furrowed his brow at Wei Wuxian, not exactly sure how to answer that question in a truthful manner that didn’t involve confessing his undying love for his best friend.

Wei Wuxian is on a mission to get Lan Wangji the perfect gift for his birthday. What Wei Wuxian doesn't know is that the only thing Lan Wangji truly wants is him.

wei wuxian's week of realizing things by photojenny (12K, i have read this multiple times, i always forget what happens, idk why but my notes say it's good, the tags say drunkji makes an appearance and i'm always up for that)

"Lan Zhan, do you like Mianmian?" asked Wei Wuxian.

Lan Wangji blinked, and stared. It was not the first time Lan Wangji had questioned the perceptiveness of the boy he had a crush on. Wei Wuxian had been smart in the class they had taken together. Yet time and time again, Wei Wuxian had tested the old wisdom that there are no stupid questions.

---

Lan Wangji must figure out how to confess when Wei Wuxian is the most oblivious person he's ever met.

are you my wisdom tooth? because i'd like to take you out by yellowcarnations (1K, crack, fluff, lwj stop flirting with a stranger, even if he is your husband, drunkji but make it to max level)

Lan Zhan wakes up and he has no idea where he is.

There are bright lights and his jaw hurts, he doesn't who this man next to his bed is but oh he might be in love, maybe, probably, definitely.

–

based off that guy-forgets-who-his-wife-is-and-hits-on-her vid but its wangxian.

beep! goes his heart by wearing_tearing (3K, fluff, lwj is like "he, he likes me right? he likes me" and everyone is like "yes, yes he does")

“Wei Ying’s heart monitor,” Lan Wangji starts.

Wen Qing blinks at him. “Yes?”

“It beeps.”

“That’s… what they generally do, yes.”

“The beeps change,” Lan Wangji continues, “when others are around.”

Wei Ying’s heart only sings for Lan Wangji.

canon

obedient and bellicose by thunderwear (19K, lwj is cursed by the lan elders, they notice too late, fix-it fic kind of?, lqr being a good uncle and lxc is a good brother, wwx accidentally uses the curse but he doesn't know about it)

It took Lan Wangji a long time to realize he was cursed. Too long really, anyone else would have noticed so much sooner. The problem was, he liked following the rules.

Ella Enchanted AU that no one needed but I wanted.

hello my old heart, how have you been? by ravenditefairylights (10K, amnesia, fluff, wwx taking care of lwj, so much fluff and softness, angst too but not that much)

The issue is, Lan Wangji brings his thoughts back before they stray too far, that it is impossible for someone to be in his bed, unless Lan Wangji himself invited them. He has not. He would remember doing so, and besides, all his night clothes are still on and there is no headache to imply that he was inebriated last night. No, the situation is simple.

There is someone in Lan Wangji’s bed. It is impossible for anyone to be in Lan Wangji’s bed, and yet that doesn’t seem to have stopped the stranger.

or lan wangji wakes up, and wei ying is there. he doesn't understand how or why, and he can understand even less why his hallucination of wei ying is so insistent on bathing him, and braiding his hair, on holding him and fixing his clothes. why the hallucination of wei ying seems so happy to see him.

teach me the way by likeafox (58K, rogue cultivator!wwx, horny wangxian, lwj wants wwx to teach him how to be a good lover, ....wwx is a virgin, the porn is the plot, but there's less of it than i thought)

"I do not wish to leave my future spouse… dissatisfied with my intimate knowledge,” Lan Zhan says, very seriously. “I am hoping to find an instructor, to better prepare myself for such matters."

Wei Ying feels his mouth drop open. He's pretty sure the Second Jade of Lan just told him he's a virgin who wants to learn how to do sex good.

Rogue Cultivator Wei Wuxian is the stuff of local legends. Some of those legends are even true! The ones about his tremendous experience in bed, on the other hand, are not so true. Which becomes a problem when Lan Wangji, on the verge of an arranged marriage and worried he won’t know how to please his future spouse, enlists Wei Ying's help to teach him the art of love-making. Wei Ying's great at improvisation, though, and is pretty sure he's got this sex mentor thing under control. What could possibly go wrong

other aus

of god: my love unholy by tunnelodfawn (3K, tw blood / war, dark!lwj, god!wwx, kind of poetry)

Lan Zhan takes everything as a sign from his god. The blood staining his fingertips—a holy anointment. He sanctifies himself through blood. The strings of his guqin gleam red in the sun—a divine blessing. This is an instrument of destruction. A single note—a cry of power—and in this note the voice of his god unravels the earthly threads tethering man to earth.

The Yiling Patriarch blesses Lan Zhan with war. Wei Wuxian blesses Lan Zhan with agility. Wei Ying blesses Lan Zhan with love.

The base of the Yiling Patriarch’s shrine is the home of Lan Zhan’s knees. He worships. There is something of the blasphemous and the unholy in his prayers. He prays not for victory but for the sight of Wei Ying. Bless me with your presence, he begs.

Or, wherein, Lan Zhan bridges the gap between the mortal and the divine—the worshipper and the god—with blood.

the river and the sea by sasamelons / @sasamelons (7K, soulmate au, arranged marriage (wangxian with each other), they're both kind of dumb but i love it)

Lan Wangji gritted his teeth, wishing to just be left alone. "I am looking for my soulmate," he ground out.

"Oh."

It took Lan Wangji a few moments to realize that Wei Wuxian had stopped following him. When he looked back, the other boy seemed to be frozen to the spot, eyes wide and lips still parted. He quickly looked away when he saw Lan Wangji looking back. "I see. Well, have a good trip!"

At six years old, Lan Zhan met his soulmate on the streets of Yiling and promptly lost him again.

At sixteen years old, Lan Wangji met his betrothed and was determined not to like him.

#so...i realized i forgot to check the things i already listed but? i tried to avoid listing fics twice?#yes i've mostly been reading oneshots these past few weeks idk why but i can't seem to find any long fics #or at least not ones that i like #wei wuxian #lan wangji #wangxian #wangxian fics #mdzs #mdzs fic #cql fic #the untamed #aamna tag #we're almost through the rec list now? i have so much open but idk why i add so few #i'm just really picky when it comes to which ones to write down and which ones not #and then this became a kind of comfort list?#idk?#but also ANGST #not Angst but ANGST #fun fact: Angst means fear in german

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