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#his mom more in terms of colors but in body type he is more like his dad. he also has a sister but clara (like anna) isnt around much
marblerose-rue · 2 years
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no requests tonight BUT i do have some oc content that ive been wanting to draw for a while
(click for better quality ! tumblr killed it and i drew on a small canvas)
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gloryofroses19 · 2 years
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The Name Game
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Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x reader
[y/n] liked to think she wasn’t the type to be easily swayed by a handsome man. Even if the handsome man was a tall sunkissed brunette outfitted in Navy service khakis and looking at her like she made the sunrise. A mustached man, who let a swarm of butterflies loose in her stomach, a feat not known to her since her teenage years. How she ended up on the date with him was beyond her. But not all the wonders of the world can be answered so [y/n] pushed that question aside and instead asked another. 
“So, what’s your real name Rooster Bradshaw?” 
Rooster grinned as he leaned across the table towards [y/n]. “Who says Rooster isn’t my real name?” 
And his grin grew as [y/n] didn’t back down and instead [y/n] met him halfway across the table with her own smile. “Because you’ve already told me you’re a pilot and I’ve learned from living here that you guys have nicknames.”
“The technical term is callsign.” Lieutenant Bradshaw enjoyed the way the setting sun’s ray crossed across her face giving her a warm glow but her accompanying laughter made him realize he liked that much more.  
“It’s Bradley.”  Sipping his beer, Bradley hoped to quell the flush, warming his body as he was enamored by the woman before him. 
“Nice to meet you Bradley…” As [y/n] paused, Bradley watched with anticipation as mischief filled her smile, “Wait, so you're telling me that your parents named you Bradley Bradshaw?”
Bradley did nothing but nod as her [color] eyes began to twinkle with that he’d call glee. “I now understand why you use your callsign, Brad-Brad.” 
Letting out an exaggerated gasp, Rooster placed a hand over his heart and feigned a wounded tone. “Hey, it’s a family name!”
“Yeah, it sure is, considering it’s your last name!” [y/n] continued to laugh as she became completely endeared by the pilot. She truly appreciated how, despite looking like an adonis and having a jet-setting career, he didn’t seem to take himself too seriously. The fact that he wasn’t above joking around and can keep up with her banter while maintaining his sincerity had [y/n] deciding that she would kiss him tonight if he made a move. 
“Ok, I admit I walked right into that.” Rooster put his hands up in mock defense,  “My dad was a bit of a jokester and my mom liked to be a troublemaker too.” 
“They sound like a couple of silly gooses to me.” 
As the comment left her rosy lips, the familiar warmth spread through Rooster again. He wasn’t oblivious to his good looks and how coupled with the Navy uniform, women looked at him. Even as a teenager, before he fully broadened out and got his six pack, he understood that he was handsome. Growing up, Rooster overheard people ask his mom why she didn’t date again and each time she said, “Goose Bradshaw was the only man for me, nobody else would compare”. When Rooster was old enough to understand, he had his own question. To his question of “how did you know?”, Carole Bradshaw looked at her son and said “you’ll just know”. Rooster found her answer wholly unhelpful and esoteric so he turned to his dad. Rooster often found himself softly saying “talk to me dad” when he needed guidance and support. But before he could even ask the question, [y/n] innocuous comment answered it for him because he finally knew.
Swallowing the lump in his throat, Bradley raised an eyebrow in question. “Is that the technical term?”
“Yes Bradley, it is.” [y/n] confirmed taking a sip of her beer as she tried to maintain her composure under his appreciative stare.  
“Oh, we’re calling me Bradley now.” Rooster teased as he leaned back in his seat. His teasing smirk grew into a genuine smile as [y/n] leaned in as if to ask him where he was going. 
“Well I’m not calling you Rooster now that I know you’re alter ego Brad-Brad but maybe next time.” 
“So there’s going to be a next time?” Rooster couldn’t stop the cocky tone that overtook his voice as he leaned back in. A beautiful girl expressing her interest in him wasn’t anything new, however, a beautiful girl who felt like sunshine, laughter and the possibility of a future was and he would be damned if he missed his chance. 
Upon realizing what she had said, [y/n] was left with an open mouth that she quickly closed as embarrassment ran through her body. Yes, he seemed clearly interested and not just in bedding her, but he did have a dangerous and peripatetic career. One that left him on naval ships and speeding aircrafts so maybe it was presumptuous to assume he’d want to see her again. 
As if sensing her apprehension, Bradley Bradshaw bridged the gap and placed his palm over her hand while smiling at her with hope. “Cause I’d love a next time.” 
Linking her fingers with his, [y/n] let the tension leave her body as she met his smile with one of her own. “Then it’s been decided.” 
“I’m glad.” Giving her a final glance with his chocolate eyes, Rooster turned his gaze out the window and conspired a way for the night to not end. 
Unbeknownst to Rooster, [y/n] shared the same feeling and was thrilled by his next question. “How about we take a walk on the beach [y/n] [y/n]?” 
Laughing at his repetition, [y/n] squeezed his hand.  “I’d love to but who says I won't push you into the ocean because of that unimaginative nickname Brad-Brad?” 
Chuckling, Bradley kept their hands linked as led her out of the bar and into the warm night. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take ma’am.”
A/N:  I can’t thank everyone enough for all the likes, comments and reblogs from my previous work, it is truly shocking. And as always, any feedback is welcomed!
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sunbearsophia · 3 months
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it's been so long since I uploaded art to my Tumblr, and since I've made so many pieces for Twitter, figured I would bring them over here, too! Works out better, since I have more space on Tumblr to ramble!
Anyways, I've doodled Eduardo in his later dad years at least twice, maybe even three times on my Twitter, but Laurel, I only ever drew once in her later mum years. So, I decided to draw her yet again to better figure out her design, and since I want to diversify how I draw body types anyways, my mind instantly went to "MOM BOD-"
Anyways, couple of notes of basically my thought process with the whole mum design! ^^
Definitely imagining she's probably in her mid-forties here, with her oldest Emmy probably in college by then and their youngest, Leo, being in middle school.
I definitely think since Laurel carried two kids, she's definitely got more of a pear-shape than she did in her youth, plus a bit of a stomach roll. It probably worried Laurel when she was younger when exercise and dieting didn't change that, but these days, Laurel's gotten past that, with time and self-love, plus an adoring husband who never ceases in telling her how beautiful she is, healing that insecurity and making her proud of her figure. <3
Has plenty of stretch marks, not to mention a leftover C-section scar from when she had Leo. She loves each and every one of them, they remind her of her kids, and she feels like she earned every single one of them.
Age has done nothing to slow Laurel down in terms of energy, however. She doesn't burn out or give up easily, always having time to spend with her husband, kiddos and friends, and still an actress for theatre and film alike. She knows to slow down and appreciate the important things, but she's still got energy to burn and passion to share!
She's perfectly happy with letting her hair grey, not feeling inclined to redye it or changing its color. She loves how it looks, as do the people around her. She does cut her hair, however, preferring the feeling of less hair to deal with, and likes the pixie cut. She just doesn't really need or want long hair for herself! (However, she LOVES Eduardo's middle-aged long hair, it's so pretty and relaxing to brush, especially since he barely brushes it himself lol.)
BODY. MODS. GALORE. I headcanon Laurel absolutely had a ton of piercings in her youth, something that age didn't stop one bit. She also still has matching MLP tattoos with Eduardo, and definitely has more that aren't pictured here. (Might try and design more at a later date!)
Has a million freckles, on her face, neck, arms and torso, and she loves every one of them. Might be a little jealous when she realizes Matt has more than she does, fuckin' MATT lmaooo.
Really loved drawing this piece! I feel like it's great and important to show more realism in body types and diversity in my art, so this was awesome to practice with! Plus, I'm just unbelievably proud of how she turned out! Laurel is such a huge fav of mine, and I definitely plan to make more art of her later years in my hc!
And yeah, def might try drawing Eduardo like this next, since I could use some practice with dad bods, too! Maybe Anna would also be a good choice to continue the mom trend, as well! But yeah, this was a celebration of older, female body types, and it makes me really proud of the final result and just getting to work on it! <3
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tomsfoolery · 2 months
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headcanons abt Astarion’s past ft. my bc of his mom
+ her in my origin run as his guardian bc nobody is safe
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ok ok so onto the headcanons
personally I’ve named her Lysistrata in my head by complete accident bc I was rereading bosas when I was first thinking abt this so
for his mom i think she was a Paladin/cleric of sorts?? or some kind of good-aligned mercenary
so like she’d come back with all these grand stories about monsters and magic for wee little Astarion and I think he would’ve found them so fascinating as a child which would’ve led him to become interested in monsters & monstrous things up until he was an “adult” and began pursuing darker things like more power and immortality n stuff
Astarion has her hair texture & thickness, and before he was turned he had her eyes bc I cannot stand blue-eyed astarion (he needs to be able to look at the sun)
Between his two parents Astarion was much closer with his mom bc she always had such interesting stories and she absolutely spoiled him with gifts and books n stuff
I see her being the type to try to see the good in everything so she’d often sympathize with some monsters (let’s say in cases like a parent trying to protect its young) and I think that kind of stuck with Astarion in terms of him being more willing to deal with the less savory as a magistrate (or just an excuse for him to take bribes because “they’ve all got families to feed” or whatever)
in connection to that I think the biggest reason Astarion never went to her for help was bc he didn’t think there was any good left in him and that she’d hate him and end his misery in the name of what she once stood for (also lowkey hc her as being a follower of Lathander so…)
she taught him a lot but I think she herself wasn’t the greatest abt love and opening up to people and she has a hard time putting complex feelings into words so all Astarion really got was “sometimes you really like a person?? but sometimes you just like their body but also sometimes their soul and um. don’t commit to relationships you don’t want to?”
her husband is definitely a dork I’m sorry
like my original headcanon is him as an inventor but I could see him dealing in magic as well
I don’t think that he wasn’t necessarily loving but I think he just didn’t pay as much attention to Astarion as his mother did so they just naturally weren’t super close
However his dad did drag him to a bunch of social functions n all that so combine that with how spoiled Astarion was and you get classic rich boy
Astarion got his hair color & most of his face from his dad and I keep really wanting to call him Felix
After Astarion became a magistrate his mom didn’t approve of some of the things he did but she still loved him anyway, once he started trying to carve out more power and immortality she tried getting her husband to speak to Astarion abt the dangers of such ambitions but he didn’t really talk to him abt it and when he DID talk to Astarion, astarion didn’t really listen
When Astarion first disappeared Lysistrata practically tore the city apart looking for him and called in a lot of favors from old flaming fist friends n stuff but they couldn’t find him. So she resorted to a fiend warlock pact trying to find him but all she was led to was this overgrown grave with suspiciously fresh dirt and she was convinced she was lied to and broke the pact so now she’s got horns :] good job Astarion look what you did to your mother
^after this her marriage became extremely strained as she began to blame her husband for not warning Astarion but she also blamed herself for not trying to do anything herself. Thank goodness she was invited to a dinner by a local noble to help cheer her up! I sure hope he wasn’t an oily little weasel. Nowadays she does a lot of investigations on missing children in and around Baldur’s Gate and she helps out with orphanages
for my durge specific i think she would either learn of some shit going down at the Crimson Palace between this elf and cazador OR she would run into Vael (durge) picking up a portrait of Astarion and she would then inquire about why Vael was getting such a thing
idk overall she’s just very, very tired. as of now in my headcanons Astarion is her only child and to lose him so soon with no answers took a lot of her hope away from her. Especially since any gods she prayed too wouldn’t have answered for the whereabouts of some disgusting vampire
girlypop probably prayed to send Astarion a guardian Angel and then he gets sent durge
Vael’s trying his hardest but he was raised half in the hells and half in the cult of Bhaal he stinks so bad
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Sunshine's Sinners
Ch 3 - Pity Party
[ Ch 2 ]
🥨Pairings: Billy Hargrove x (fem)Reader / Eddie Munson x (fem)Reader / Mungrove x (fem)Reader
🥨Summary: You spend some time with Eddie, avoiding Billy after what happened outside your house the other night.
🥨CW: Mild bullying, sibling arguments
🛑 18+ MINORS DNI 🛑
🥨Word Count: 2k
🥨A/N: We're back!! ♡ I'm coming out the sickness AND my writer's block 🤣 So I'm feeling good ♡
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Nope. No way. Not touching that today. Mothers could really be clueless sometimes. Or maybe it was a ruse, and they were actually pushing you towards something. Your mother was the 'pushing' type. She pushed you into several different hobbies as a child. She pushed you into social situations, like the night you walked Billy and Max back to their house. Now she was suggesting an option that had you burning with embarrassment.
"He seems like a sweet boy." Billy's charm really won her over, if that was her image of him. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind giving you a ride to school. I mean, you go to the same school anyway. It makes sense."
"Not happening, mom."
She knew that tone of voice was a brick wall going up, shutting out any further arguments. Her hands went up in passive acceptance. Leaving the subject alone for now. "Well, be careful on your way to school. I'm gonna try to catch up on sleep." Just saying the word 'sleep' made her yawn. "I finally have a day off today."
No amount of sleeping in during the day was going to fix her body's clock. All these overnight shifts made her basically nocturnal. Wouldn't be surprised if she was secretly a vampire or something.
A cheek kiss and a sideways hug later, you were turning the knob of your front door. Happy to see that the lock was still secure and hadn't been tampered with. "Will do. Catch you later."
After the events of last night, you were more careful than you've ever been. Especially as a teenager. A span of life experience practically made for reckless behavior. Like the idiotic way you walked up to a grown stranger and questioned him as if you had any chance of defending yourself against him. God, and to make it even worse, Billy was a witness to the whole thing. Your family's dirty laundry strewn across the lawn for his eyes to see. So much for being a perfect princess. He made a term of endearment sound like an insult, but it somehow still made your insides fluttery.
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Walking the halls felt like tip-toeing your way into a guarded facility. Every careful step held the risk of setting off an alarm. Alerting a certain head of curls that you were stupid to think you could avoid for long. Any amount of time would have to do. A day. A few hours. Or… ten seconds. The ten seconds it took for you to reach your locker, and look in the direction of the gymnasium's big double doors.
As if his stare put a bright spotlight over your head, his teammates followed his line of sight. Busted. You couldn't see pity or annoyance in his eyes. No matter how deeply you searched the ocean for it. The waters were calm. Unusually void of life for something so vibrantly colored. Like his pink lips mouthing something at you, too fast for you to read. Too far away for you to hear. All you could make out was your name, and it pissed you off how quickly your mind conjured up a fantasy of him moaning it. The more you tried to wish it away, the more detailed it became. Filling in the spaces with his warm breath and the smell of cigarettes and mint gum. His sticky sweet cherry chapstick.
By the time the bell rang, you took the long way to class. One tardy wouldn't harm your grades. Walking past Billy would. "Hey!" You heard his booming voice shoot over the crowd and kept walking. Doing what you did best in a mass of hurried students. Becoming just another face in the crowd. A privilege that your next target would probably never have.
Eddie always stood out like a priest in a whorehouse.
That just made it easier to find him once lunchtime came around. Follow the rambunctious laughter and wild gesturing; there was always one Eddie Munson at the end of that rainbow. You were one of the first few people to enter the large room. Looking over rows and rows of empty tables until you saw the tell-tale shag and denim vest. He was quiet without his usual group of club members surrounding him. Elbow propped up on the table so he could rest his face in the palm of his hand and slowly stuff pretzels into his mouth from a small ziplock bag. Pretzels? Everyone else had a tray. You had one. Wasn't he hungry?
With a little extra motivation in your step, you approached Eddie's table and put your tray down beside him. He lazily shifted his focus up towards you. "You uh…lost?"
"Nope." To emphasize that point, you plopped down into the seat. "Just wanted to sit here." Eddie was hard to read, but he was probably thinking the same about you. He watched the doors, looking for either one of his friends or someone that could be in on a set-up. "I wanted to thank you. Gave me some quality shit." An honest-to-goodness smile formed, and even Eddie was no match for it. He gave you a smaller (and confused) smile in return, turning in his seat to face you. His fingertips ran over the salty ridges of a small pretzel and you wondered if the skin there was rough.
"So you risk social suicide to thank little old me?" Eddie fluttered his eyelashes like a Disney princess. Comedic intentions aside, he was pretty. Unexpectedly. A wildflower in a cemetery. "I don't usually get a review from my customers, so thanks." He leaned in, like it was a secret. As if everyone didn't already know that he deals.
Then the silence came. He looked you over quizzically, hiding it less with every minute that passed. "Hungry?" Just to ease the tension, and quiet the nagging voice in the back of your head, you slid your tray closer to him. "Think Jeanette has the hots for me or somethin'. She always loads my tray with fries." You pluck a few from the pile and nibble on them, hoping he'd feel more open to sharing instead of feeling pressured to eat it all himself.
Hesitantly, he dipped his hand into the warm pile and ate one fry. Somehow finding the one with the most salt sprinkled over it. His stomach gurgled loud enough for you to hear, demanding to be fed more than his ziplock bag would've given it. You kept on as if you heard nothing. Don't know what's the situation with his eating, but he clearly needs it more than I do. It was enough to share food in comfortable silence. That is, until the usual suspects started coming in.
"Check it out, The Freak's got a new little friend!"
Freak. You've heard them harass him in the hallways over the years, and it sort of faded into the background. All part of the high school ambience. Now you noticed how ugly it felt, and you weren't even on the receiving end. Eddie dropped the fry he almost put into his mouth, instead using his salt-dusted fingertips to give a dainty wave towards the couple of jocks that stood beside the table. "Awe, Andy what's wrong? Feel replaced?"
Two jocks became five, and you were starting to feel a bit nervous. Where the basketball team was, there was usually their newest star Billy. So far he was nowhere to be seen. Just 'Andy' and the anger he spewed towards you after Eddie's teasing comment. "Fuck off, Freak! Don't get bold because you've got some bitch giving you the time of day."
A loud, masculine voice parted the gathering cluster of team jerseys and basketball shorts. "Hey! Cool it, Andy." Despite your mission to avoid him, you wanted to catch a glimpse of him. Sunny curls coming to your rescue once again. Sadly, the closer he got, the more you saw that it wasn't your neighbor. It was Steve Harrington. "Leave em'. Got a game coming up, and we don't need you getting into any more trouble."
You hadn't spoken to Steve since Barbra was still around. Since Nancy still considered you someone worth entertaining a friendship with, instead of an ugly scar leftover from having Barb ripped away too soon. There was a soft thanks on your lips for him that died when you saw the way he looked at you. Shaking his head like a disapproving parent before leading his teammates away to their table.
Right after they cleared, a familiar bunch entered from the door farthest away from you. Three boys wearing shirts just like Eddie's. He cleared his throat, saying your name just above a whisper. "You don't have to pity me, y'know. Most of the people who buy from me either act like I don't exist or throw me into a locker when they get the chance. I know the way it works."
"I don't pity you, Eddie." You try to brighten his spirits with another smile, but he wilts. "I wanted to sit and chat with you. You're cool to hang with." As his friends get closer you see him tense, so you stand. Leaving the tray behind.
"I'll save you a seat tomorrow. If- if you want."
"Thanks." You throw him a wink for good measure. That puts the color back in his cheeks. "See you then."
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"Y/n! Over here!"
There he was. You had made it through the day without seeing him, it was a shock to hear him call you directly. Standing there beside his Camaro as Max came over on her skateboard. He must've been waiting for her. And you.
"Get in the car. I'm taking you home." He said plainly, turning to open the driver's seat door once you were a couple feet away. Even Max looked at him in shock, but kept her questions to herself. "Backseat, Shitbird. You know the drill." I guess it wasn't the first time he had a girl along for the ride. Already? He's only been in Hawkins for like, five seconds.
Long enough to have you swapping spit with him in the middle of the night. Maybe you weren't as special as you stupidly let yourself believe. Whatever. Special or not, you regretted your stubborn insistence on walking to school this morning. If he was offering a free ride, then who were you to turn it down? It's not like he'd bring up the situation in front of Max.
Instead, he'll argue with her. From the moment he pulled out of the parking lot. Bickering about whose turn it was to do whatever chore, when to be back home from the arcade, and most of all… how much he hated moving here. "Watch that fucking tone with me. You don't like it, then you shouldn't have done what you did. Whose fault is it that we had to move here?"
"Yours…" Max grumbled, folding in on herself with a hope that he didn't hear her. The snap in his neck as he turned to her made her curl up even tighter.
"What was that?" Billy was full-blown yelling, lurching the car forward with increased speed. "WHOSE FAULT, YOU LITTLE SHIT?!"
The trees along the road were becoming a blur. Zooming by so fast you were starting to feel sick. "If I say it was my fault will you calm down?? You're gonna kill us!"
"Mind your goddamn business." He lowered the volume, but all the ice remained. Being on the receiving end of Billy's anger was starting to be one of your least favorite occurrences. "You don't even know what she did.."
Home in one piece, you leaped up from your seat and exited the Camaro before he came to a complete stop. The grass did look greener, when you feared that you'd never see it again. "Thanks." A ride is a ride. Deadly or not. Maybe you should walk more often. 
Somewhere in his grumbles were sounds that resembled 'your welcome'. Heavy-footed, he charged on toward his front door and slammed it behind him. 
"Thanks.. for helping with Billy." Max said, spinning the wheel on her skateboard. She hurried after Billy to avoid another altercation. You couldn't blame her. It was scary being yelled at like that, but Billy had a point. Whatever issue he's so upset about was in the making before they even moved here. There had to be something stirring up all that rage.
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Masterlist , Series Masterlist , Ao3 ☆
Taglist: @sidthedollface2 , @bontensbabygirl , @killing-gremlin
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Hi! I loved reading your character bingo analysis so far, could I please ask for Riddle and Ortho?
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Ortho Character Opinion Bingo here!
Lilia Character Opinion Bingo here!
Ah, it’s not really meant to be analysis 😂 I’m just expressing my opinions! I only really go in-depth when I’m explaining where I think the fandom does a character dirty.
***Standard disclaimer: These are just my personal opinions of the character(s); regardless of what I may think of them, sharing my thoughts is NOT meant to offend or to shame anyone that thinks differently.***
***CONTENT WARNING: mentions abuse!***
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In terms of how much I like the dorm leaders… Riddle firmly sits in the middle, and I think a lot of that has to do with me looking at him through (pardon the pun) rose-tinted glasses. I have a lot of nostalgia for Riddle since he was the first dorm leader released to the public eye; I’ve basically known him since day 1 😂 Even before Riddle, I followed Black Butler—and since Riddle resembles Ciel Phantomhive, I got a very strong sense of deja vu. If it weren’t for all the nostalgia, I would probably dislike Riddle more than Vil.
To comment a little more about his design, I’m not a fan of the heart ahoge. It looks,,, fine???? But then the longer I stare at it, the more I realize that they remind me of antennae, and when paired with the red color of Riddle’s hair, it makes him look like a cockroach… and honey, that is NOT cute. His eyebrows also kind of turn into a weird shape when he gets angry and red-faced??? I get that this is all to make him more closely resemble the Queen of Hearts, but I think it’s all a little too on the nose. That aside, I don’t really like characters with Riddle’s particular… body type 😂 (aka short and child-like Riddle, please don’t behead me). It’s not something I personally find appealing, and the other issue with it is that short characters tend to get irrationally upset when someone points out their height (a trope which I find to be annoying 😓),
I do like that Riddle is talented and responsible for his age, but that likability goes right out the window because he can simultaneously act very arrogant and self-righteous about it. Even post-episode 1, Riddle is shown to be very fixated on following the rules strictly, and he assigns great importance to titles and positions. He talks down to a fellow dorm leader and acts as though he knows better than all of his peers (something which he also does more prominently in episode 1, pre-OB). I understand that this way of thinking is very much a result of how he was raised, but it still doesn’t change the fact that this behavior is very narrow-minded and an awful way to treat others. Like Ace says in episode 1, people can blame Riddle’s parents all they like, but ultimately Riddle’s words and actions are his own, and Riddle needs to accept responsibility for the people he has hurt.
I think the fandom does Riddle dirty the same way it does Jamil dirty; it feels like people drastically oversimplify Riddle’s situation without truly realizing the complexities of child abuse and how its effects carry over into adulthood. I see so many cursing out Riddle’s mom and saying nasty things about her without ever condemning Riddle himself for lashing out or behaving just as badly. It gives the impression that Riddle’s mom is entirely to blame and that no one holds Riddle accountable for his own actions, despite what episode 1 and Ace told us, and I don’t think that’s wise to do. I’m NOT going to sit here and defend Mama Rosehearts because what she did to her child was indeed awful and she deserves to be called out for it. However, Riddle shouldn’t be treated like he’s entirely innocent or coddled like a child, because he has also done awful things to others. As much as people can hate on his mom and the way she raised him, no one is holding a gun to Riddle’s head and forcing him to act a certain way. Yes, his mother may have influenced him to a degree, but the words and actions are still Riddle’s and Riddle’s alone.
One thing that truly kills Riddle for me is his absolutely atrocious temper. It’s usually played off as just a joke, but it’s so frightening to me how fast and how easily Riddle is set off (yes, even after the events of episode 1). I’m legitimately scared of him when he lashes out; I’d always walk on eggshells around him or avoid him entirely for fear of doing some minuscule thing that might send him into a fit of rage. I don’t very much fancy the idea of being screamed at and/or collared…
That being said, I can never really bring myself to “hate” Riddle, because I can relate a lot with where he’s coming from. Having grown up sheltered and raised by tiger parents myself, Riddle’s childhood echoes a lot of what I experienced in mine. I was that sad little child at some point, forbidden from having sweets and prevented from playing with other kids because “studying is more important”. I didn’t realize how little I knew about the world (like, I didn’t even know you could cook rice using methods OTHER than steaming it) until I made friends in school that were willing to teach me. I think that’s why I like Riddle best when he’s just being a regular kid… hanging out with people, learning and trying new things! It reminds me of the joy that I experienced myself whenever I made a new discovery. I truly hope that Riddle has the chance to keep learning and growing.
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angelayag · 1 year
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A Gaze at What They Call a Waste
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Many people have complimented my younger brother's appearance, describing him as cute and charming especially when he smiles revealing the dimples on his cheek. They even nicknamed him "Koreano" because of his fair complexion and facial characteristics similar to those of Korean KPOP artists. However, "sayang" (what a waste), is the first phrase that comes out once they learn of his condition.
My parents always wanted another child a long time ago. They say it would be great and that I could have a playmate at home. I, on the other hand, don’t like the idea of having a sibling; I guess I just want the attention I’m getting as an only child, but who am I to hinder their wish of bringing another life to earth? 
Unfortunately, they were unable to have a child since my father was an OFW at that time and he rarely came home to the Philippines. A few years have passed; it was December 2015 when my dad came home to spend the holidays, and during New Year’s Eve 2016, we found out that my mom is pregnant. Knowing that, my father decided to stay in the Philippines during the duration of my mother’s pregnancy.
On September 8, 2016, our little bundle of joy arrived, and his name is Nicolo Liam B. Cardaño. My relatives considered my brother's birth to be a miracle because my parents had been praying for this their entire lives, it allowed my dad to spend more time with us, and also because even at the age of 40, my mother managed to deliver a baby. I was 11 years old at that time; the age gap between me and my little brother might be weird to some but beneficial to others, as they suggest that I’m "capable" enough to give an extra hand whenever my parents need one. 
Liam’s transition from newborn to infant seems to be better than expected. He can stand on his own in his fifth month, which is impressive given that the typical month for a baby to stand without support is 9 months. Liam can walk during his tenth month, which is again impressive given that the average month for a baby to walk is around 12 months. He is regarded as a wunderkind by my parents and relatives in terms of his amazing development of motor skills. 
From the looks of it, Liam seems like no ordinary kid. At the age of two, he can assemble the alphabet and numbers from 1-20. He can also point out colors and basic body parts of the body. He can easily be taught through flash cards and visual materials. However, there’s one thing that's bothering my parents. 
At the age of one, I began to speak my first words, such as "mama" and "papa," or imitate the phrases I heard my parents say, though frequently leaving off the endings or beginnings of words. That’s how my parents would describe one of the most memorable milestones in my early childhood. Baby talk seems to be the crucial part of a child's development, at least according to the majority of parents, including mine; hence, it bothers them when Liam hasn’t said a word or even babbled yet.
We observe some actions he does but do not think of it as unusual. His hyperactivity is hard to keep up with but aren’t all kids the same? He also has inattentive behavior such as not looking back when his name is called or that he has no eye contact when someone is communicating with him, however, this didn’t raise any concern with my parents as they just thought my brother is just an ignorant type. What brings us joy is Liam’s ability to flip around the bed. It astounds us that he has the physical strength to just tumble over and over again. We find it adorable how he tiptoes, flails his arms, and spins in circles. We also noticed how he was able to align his toys properly and connoted him as a perfectionist. To us, his actions are similar to a normal kid. The speech delayment of Liam is the only main concern of my parents. 
My parents have talked about this dilemma that they have around their relatives and friends. Majority of them have said the same thing, “magsasalita din yan” (he will talk soon enough). Some have shared their experiences, claiming that their child went through a similar phase of being unable to speak, but that as time passed, they were able to say their first words during their preschool years. 
At first, my parents felt relief, as the people close to them had given them hope based on the experiences they had shared. However, after some time when Liam is around three years old, my parents have read article after article of the reasons why a child has speech delayment and it has shaken them to the core. Hence, they decided to go to a professional about this. 
My parents came through a developmental pediatrician on July 20, 2019, to console about Liam's speech delay and to discuss his daily activities and routines. After a few consultations, Liam has been confirmed and diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder (ASD). It seems like the actions mentioned earlier—his hyperactivity, inattentive behavior, and certain mannerisms—are the actual signs and symptoms of autism that we’ve failed to notice.
Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD) is a broad range of developmental disorders caused by differences in the brain that impairs social, communicational, and behavioral function. It is defined by difficulties with social skills, repetitive behaviors, speech, and nonverbal communication. It is a lifelong condition, however, with the help of therapy, people with ASD can help them acquire new skills. Due to the negativity surrounding the term autism, my parents were in denial about the diagnosis.
My parents started thinking about the "what ifs" if Liam’s condition is normal. Now that Liam is six years old, he would be in school by now, participating in class, making friends along the way, being swooned over by girls, and growing to be his own person with his own dreams and inspirations. That’s how my parents would describe Liam’s life if only he was "normal." But my parents’ main concern is how Liam would be viewed by society due to the stigma surrounding it. Unfortunately, people view children with autism as nuisances, spoiled brats, and disappointments. Hence, people have been saying "sayang" (what a waste) whenever they know a person has autism, since they already concur that they wouldn’t be a “useful” member of society.
With its technical term and social perspective, we’ve left out the numerous abilities an autistic child has, like how Liam keeps track of time, knowing his own schedule and endeavors, like how he would pick out his outerwear on Wednesday because he knows it's his occupational and speech therapy session. Additionally, Liam is more interested in the mechanics of a toy car, like how the wheels spin, than to see which one runs faster, or how he sees things literally and not as a toy to play pretend with. Lastly, he is a fast learner and thinks logically too. He does amazingly even beyond a neurotypical kid. 
People have been saying "sayang" (what a waste) all this time, indicating how little they think of my brother, as if they lost hope the second they learned about his condition, as if it can prevent him from achieving his own dreams and aspirations. Society looks at Liam weirdly as he expresses himself loudly and out of control, running around in circles, but please know that he is experiencing the world differently and that he strives to live life even if it's beyond his capabilities. Autistic people view the world as overwhelming and don't have the mental capability to handle it, but don’t we all? 
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starlingsrps · 4 months
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david hatcher.
BASIC INFORMATION
FULL NAME: david thomas hatcher NICKNAME(S): simply not a dave but will answer to hatch PREFERRED NAME(S): david BIRTH DATE: september 23 AGE: thirty ZODIAC: libra sun/aries rising/capricorn moon GENDER: male PRONOUNS: he/his RELATIONSHIP STATUS: sin....gle. definitely single. SEXUAL ORIENTATION: straight but what kind of asshole isn't going to tell his friends when they look great? NATIONALITY: canadian CURRENT LOCATION: vancouver/atlanta/los angeles triangle, home base is vancouver. LIVING CONDITIONS: an apartment in south granville that could probably have more personality but half the year he's subletting it so he tries to not keep too much important shit there.
BACKGROUND
BIRTH PLACE: medicine hat, ab (solely chosen because i like saying medicine hat) HOMETOWN: medicine hat SOCIAL CLASS: middle - he makes good money and has savings but he works in entertainment. there are very different levels. EDUCATION LEVEL: emily carr for a degree in filmmaking and some ass kissing to get good internerships. FATHER: doug hatcher, 62 MOTHER: jill hatcher, 62 SIBLING(S): alex, 35; jake, 32 RELATIONSHIP WITH FAMILY: oh, he's very thankful for the distance sometimes more than others. he loves his family. they're great, they're very supportive, he's happy when they come to visit…for awhile. he's the baby of the family in every conceivable way and it's real hard to keep feeling like an independent adult man when your mom is telling people about your fake blood experiments. BIRTH ORDER: youngest CHILDREN: nope. eventually? sure! he's just busy. PET(S): he would love a dog but he travels too much OTHER IMPORTANT RELATIVES: alex and jake are both married with two kids each, buying him some time in terms of providing the next generation (but not much) PREVIOUS RELATIONSHIPS: the list is both prolific and short lived. he travels a lot. a lot of those happened on set. has david signed a few ndas? yep. ARRESTS?: nope but he did get in trouble a few times as a teenager when he thought he was making gritty films and was just loitering.
OCCUPATION & INCOME
PRIMARY SOURCE OF INCOME: cinematographer SECONDARY SOURCE OF INCOME: subletting his apartment? CONTENT WITH THEIR JOB?: oh absolutely. he's been making movies since he was a kid with the family camcorder and just never stopped. PAST JOB(S): name it on a film set, he's probably done it. SPENDING HABITS: reasonable. he tries to not have a lot of stuff but plants and blu-rays don't count.
SKILLS & ABILITIES
PHYSICAL STRENGTH: upper body on point from camera heaving. he does skip leg day. SPEED: a long stride moreso than fast. INTELLIGENCE: smart enough but can be shit at taking a hint. ACCURACY: fine AGILITY: fine STAMINA: he doesn't need a lot of sleep it's fine. TEAMWORK: really good! TALENTS: he has a strong eye for color and composition and is good at thinking a dozen steps ahead to the final product. good at working towards the goal, patient about it. SHORTCOMINGS: yeah he can be a real asshole though. LANGUAGE(S) SPOKEN: english DRIVE?: yes but it's not preferred. he doesn't keep a car but it's handy to be able to rent when he's on location. JUMP-STAR A CAR?: yep CHANGE A FLAT TIRE?: yep RIDE A BICYCLE?: yes but it's very funny SWIM?: yes PLAY AN INSTRUMENT?: nah PLAY CHESS?: nah BRAID HAIR?: nah TIE A TIE?: it'll take a few tries but yeah
PHYSICAL APPEARANCE & CHARACTERISTICS
FACE CLAIM: callum turner EYE COLOR: blue HAIR COLOR: brown HAIR TYPE/STYLE: short and wavy GLASSES/CONTACTS?: contacts for every day, glasses when his eyes are tired and/or he's lazy. DOMINANT HAND: right HEIGHT: 6'2 BUILD: lanky af like dude why are your limbs so long EXERCISE HABITS: some…times. SKIN TONE: fair TATTOOS: a few, all of which are very meaningless but look cool. PIERCINGS: nah MARKS/SCARS: a few nicks and small scars here and there from on set incidents, one on his skull under his hair from getting nailed with a golf club by jake when they were kids (he's still holding it over his head). USUAL EXPRESSION: a little serious, leaning towards resting bitch face. CLOTHING STYLE: jeans, t-shirt, jacket. light layers, never know what the day is going to bring. shoes he can run in. never know. JEWELRY: no. ALLERGIES: nah DIET: craft services PHYSICAL AILMENTS: he's not thinking about the noise his left shoulder makes sometimes. if he doesn't think about it, it's not real.
PSYCHOLOGY
MORAL ALIGNMENT: chaotic good TEMPERAMENT: choleric ELEMENT: air MBTI TYPE: ESTP MENTAL CONDITIONS/DISORDERS: not especially SOCIABILITY: good! he gets along with people fairly well, tries to make an effort with everyone he meets. EMOTIONAL STABILITY: good! unless he's in a bitchy mood and then he's just going to be a shit stirrer. PHOBIA(S): getting bashed in the head by a klieg light. it probably won't happen. but it might. DRUG USE: pot doesn't count ALCOHOL USE: socially PRONE TO VIOLENCE?: not especially.
MANNERISMS
ACCENT: wee bit flat but not excessively. QUIRKS: there will always be a backup plan. there will, ideally, be several backup plans. HOBBIES: he fucking loves movies. he'll never get tired of them. but if no one wants to sit in a theater with him for two hours and then spend three dissecting scenes: he does like hiking. HABITS: he works, he hangs out with friends - he doesn't do too much that's unusual. he just has an unusual-ish job. NERVOUS TICKS: tapping and bouncing his leg. do not give him anything he can tap if he's already bouncing his leg. it will not get better. DRIVES/MOTIVATIONS: he really likes praise and wants to achieve recognition in his field. POSITIVE TRAITS: outgoing, creative, hardworking, observant, passionate, enthusiastic NEGATIVE TRAITS: no filter, perfectionist, competitive, blunt, SENSE OF HUMOR: good! he'll laugh at anything. DO THEY CURSE OFTEN?: yes but he's trying to get better about it.
FAVORITES
ACTIVITY: going to work ANIMAL: dogs BEVERAGE: this is his emotional support five shots of espresso on ice and no he can't put it down. BOOK: the great gatsby COLOR: green DESIGNER: people design his clothes? FOOD: if he can eat it while walking, it's good. sandwiches mostly. FLOWER: orchids. he has an orchid and it's his tempermental child. GEM: rocks are cool. HOLIDAY: halloween but mostly just october MODE OF TRANSPORTATION: walk or uber MOVIE: why would you ever ask him that? you'll be here for hours while he decides. inception is pretty high up there. SONG: "everlasting light" SCENERY: does it look great? he's there. SCENT: ocean air and vanilla SPORT: hockey SPORTS TEAM: stockholm syndrome but for the flames. TELEVISION SHOW: twin peaks. yes even after it got weird. WEATHER: clear and cool VACATION DESTINATION: he's down for wherever but he does prefer hot and dry
ATTITUDES
GREATEST DREAM: ASC membership, working with christopher nolan GREATEST FEAR: he's mostly broken free of the hallmark movie circuit but he's terrified it will come to claim him again. MOST AT EASE WHEN: working or with friends LEAST AT EASE WHEN: backed into a corner - he'll be polite but he's also Annoyed underneath. WORST POSSIBLE THING THAT COULD HAPPEN: eh. he tries to not go there. BIGGEST ACHIEVEMENT: he's worked on some projects that he's really proud of and done some cool shit because of his job BIGGEST REGRET: nah. BIGGEST SECRET: god i'm lazy. later.
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kmpac · 2 years
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➸ Rated All
➸ Summary: After the oddest blind date scenario you could have possibly imagined, you find yourself at the hockey game with the ticket your fake blind date gave you. As the game progresses, you learn a little bit more about THE Jeon Jungkook.
This is part 2 of Fake Blind Date, which you can read here: Fake Blind Date If you haven’t already, I suggest reading that first.
➸ Word count: 3K
➸ Pairing: Hockey Player!JK x reader
➸ Genre: Fluff
➸ Warnings: Sweaty JJK.
AN: I was so overwhelmed by the positive feedback from FBD and it really encouraged me to put this together. I really want to see where this goes, because I think it is a fun concept. My husband is a former hockey player, so he helped me with some of the scenarios for this (he’s the one who said “that dude is way too little to be a hockey player”, but I did my research and there are active players in hockey right now that are exactly JKs size, so I told my husband to shove it). Please enjoy sweaty smiley JK!
_____
Jungkook hadn't been expecting to find you when he had been called to meet his agent at the Le Chez Restaurant for a PR follow up and discussion of endorsement deals. He had come straight from a Press Conference in his best suit: black, of course (was there another color?) So he had been appropriately dressed for such a restaurant, even though it wasn't really his scene. He was more the Dive Bar, Draft on Tap, Sit at the Bar kind of guy, but his Agent liked the finer things, so he hadn't batted an eye when he suggested it for the meeting.
What had surprised him when he came in with a gust of wind at his back was you sitting all alone, sipping a glass of water with both hands wrapped around it, with tears in your eyes. You were hard to miss when he entered as you were straight ahead of the door, almost as though you had planned it that way, and you were incredibly pretty, besides. Jungkook wasn't much of a womanizer, like many of his teammates. He tended to be a bit quieter, and was more the long term dating type of guy. A romantic - his mom always said. So when he immediately connected eyes with you and felt an electric current go through his whole body at the shy smile you sent his way, he was hooked before he even processed the thought.
He would have just asked you for your number when he approached your table, but he was so curious to know why you looked about ready to cry that he never even got the words out of his mouth before he realized that you had been expecting someone and had mistakenly assumed he was it. He was used to people recognizing him, so he never even thought it possible that you would mistake him for someone else. By the time he realized the mistake, he was so deep into enjoying your time that he hadn't even noticed his agent entering the restaurant, let alone thought to correct you of your misconception of his identity.
When your date arrived and interrupted the conversation, he actually felt regretful and, regardless of how long his agent would have waited, he would have kept the ruse going for hours if he could, just to keep talking to you. Giving you the ticket to the game was a reflex. Ever since his career as a professional Hockey Player started, he'd gotten used to people asking for tickets to games, so he always kept spares on him. He liked having an audience, being a natural performer, and it was exciting knowing that the people watching were there just for him.
He wasn't sure if you would actually show or not. He hadn't had time to explain, and couldn't be sure if you would be annoyed or intrigued by him, but he hoped for the latter. It had made it incredibly difficult to listen to his agent for the rest of his meeting when you were looking adorable during your date, as you constantly flung your beautiful hair back over your shoulder.
So when game day arrived, he was a bit anxious, and asked one of the members of staff to keep an eye out on seat K15 in section 200 and to let him know if someone took the seat.
He was adjusting his laces and was just about to get up to grab his stick when the staff member came back to let him know that you, in fact, had arrived. He was beyond overjoyed and a bundle of energy, not only because of the game, but because of the excitement of seeing you again and getting to see your face when you realized who he was.
And he hadn't been disappointed.
You were currently looking his way with a confused, flushed look on your face. Even from this distance, you could tell he knew you were surprised and he seemed to be enjoying it as he skated backward with a dazzling look on his face. Cheeky.
It had certainly come as a surprise that your gorgeous Fake Date Man had turned out to be a professional Hockey Player. And not just any hockey player, but the ace of the team. You knew nothing about THE Jeon Jungkook when you walked in tonight, but by the end of the game, the other patrons around you made sure you knew him by the end. Number 1 All Around Draft Pick, Leading Scorer in the League for 3 years running, and the most assists AND points this season on the team. He was a Legend in the making, the guy two seats down from you told you. He had endless nicknames too. They called him Golden Boy, because he was apparently good at everything. Not only was he the primary center, but he could sub in any position, even goalie. They called him Lightning on the Ice, because he was so fast and so strong, he could be down the ice and scoring before you could blink. He was tiny by comparison to most other Hockey Players, but he used it to his advantage.
And in the course of the game, you definitely got an eye full.
You couldn’t help it. Even his sweat was hot. And every time he made an incredible play or scored, he’d have this gorgeous baby boy smile on his face that had your heart stuttering. It didn’t help that the Jumbotron would splash his face on the screen as often as they could and so you got an eye full of his sparkly eyes and pearly white bunny teeth every few plays throughout the entire game. By the end, he wasn’t the only one sweating.
But it had you feeling pretty inadequate - you weren’t going to lie. You hadn’t been on the dating scene much and you were never a knock out, just a regular girl, you thought. So why was this famous, super sexy, super hot PROFESSIONAL AND RICH HOCKEY PLAYER giving you the time of day?
No idea.
But you didn’t have much time to wonder, because by the end of the game (Jungkook’s team won 3 to nil), you found yourself being approached by a member of staff.
“Ma’am?” Said the older man, holding a clipboard with a headset on, chewing gum with the whole force of his jaw.
You pointed to yourself when you realized he was talking to you.
“Yes, you,” he said, waving you toward him. “Follow me.”
You grabbed your things and said bye to the other fans you had made friends with during the game, and started to follow the man with the clipboard. He proceeded you into the tunnel and out into the main hall surrounding the rink. He walked pretty fast and the crowd was already starting to build from all the fans preparing to leave, so it wasn’t really possible to start a conversation, but you really wanted to know where he was taking you.
“Um, sir?” You practically yelled as you sprinted to keep up with him as he weaved through the crowd. “Where are we going?”
“The Press Lounge,” he said simply. “I don’t care what Jeon says, I’m not taking you to the Locker Room. That would start a media frenzy. Amazingly enough, the Press Lounge is the least suspicious place right after a game.”
“I’m sorry what?” you said as you struggled to keep up. You must have heard wrong. “Why am I going anywhere?”
He was nearly to a side door labeled “staff”, when he turned around to look at you confused and a bit incredulous, which had you faltering.
“I mean, it was nice of… Mr. Jeon to give me a ticket to watch the game, but I mean…I…”
What did you mean? You had no idea how to finish your sentence. You didn’t expect anything else from him? This hadn’t been your idea? Somehow in front of this older man smacking his gum and looking lazily over his shoulder, you wanted to to be clear that you weren’t some kind of groupie or something. You didn’t even know who he was when you first met him, for goodness sake!
Luckily, you were saved from having to finish your sentence, as clipboard guy got bored and turned back around to swing open the door to a kind of “backstage” area. It was so quiet you could hear the hinges of the door creak as you entered and he was walking so fast you barely had time to register the offices and filming equipment behind many of the glass windowed doors lining the hallway. At the end, clipboard guy stopped at a glass enclosed room with a TV and couch and waved you toward it, making the implication clear.
You entered and sat down. The TV was playing highlights from the game, taunting you with Jungkook’s handsome face once again. But otherwise the room was quiet and the hallway was deserted. You checked your watch and played a mobile game for a while as you waited, but eventually the TV switched to an interview with some of the players and while it didn’t originally hold your interest, the sound of a familiar voice had your head whipping up in a flash.
There he was, still in most of his gear from the game, sat behind 5 microphones with a press screen behind him in powder blue. His hair was drenched in sweat and he kept running his hand through his hair to keep it out of his face. His TATTOOED hand. You don’t remember that detail from the other night…Good God. And he was smiling like a little boy, while looking like anything but. He was going to kill you; you were sure of it.
“Jeon, today’s goal marks your 10th this season, more than any other player in the league. How do you keep up the same kind of intensity game in and game out?” The interviewer off screen asked.
“It’s all a team effort. We practice hard, we play hard, and we just keep the intensity going. Anything is possible when you’ve got the kind of team work we’ve got.”
“But Debow said himself, you are a future Hall of Famer, what does that mean to you?”
“I’m just here to play Hockey, man,” Jungkook said with a side smile and a giggle that had the Press Room laughing and you practically panting. “Listen, I take this very seriously, and I want to win every game, but I’m like that because I know I’ve got people relying on me, just like I’m relying on them. We’re a team and we can’t win games without us all out there, so my focus is to stay healthy and in shape so I can do my part.”
The chorus of shouts from the Press rang out as you saw a sea of hands in the air in front of Jungkook. He called on one to the right and you caught the profile of a middle aged man as he held up a pen-waving hand.
“You guys are already being touted as the League favorites to win the Stanley Cup this year. What do you think your chances are of winning the coveted award after being denied in playoffs last season?”
“We’ve got some tough games ahead of us in the next few weeks. Phillie will be a tough one next week on the road, and Montreal will definitely give us a run for our money, but we will do like we always do: limit distractions and keep our noses to the ice. Stanley Cup is the goal, and we will do everything we can to get there this year.”
By the time the interview was over, your cheeks were practically sore from smiling so much. If anything, you were even more intrigued by this humble king. Could he be any more perfect? God. His sweat probably even smells like candy. Rude.
It was with that thought that you suddenly heard a door open in the distance, and you barely had time to prepare before you saw the silhouette of a man further down the hall and before you knew it Jeon Jungkook was facing you from further down the hall as you stood from the couch and began playing with your hair to give yourself something to do. His eyes were glued to you and his smile was infectious as he made his way toward the glass enclosed room you were in all alone. By the time he was at the door swinging it open with more force than necessary, you were practically shaking and your face was probably a tomato. It was a miracle you could even make eye contact, especially as his confident stare was doing things to you.
“Uh, hi,” he said and laughed as he ran his fingers through his hair in what was clearly a nervous tick. “So, uh…surprise…?” he said almost in a question as he scratched the back of his head.
He was still in his jersey and pads, but he had swapped his skates for slides, and it should have been silly looking, but you were practically drooling instead. He really had you at a disadvantage.
“It certainly was a surprise!” You responded, probably louder than necessary, but your voice felt unused at this point.
You coughed to clear away the jitters, and he smiled at your flustered reaction.
“I wanted to get the chance to apologize for the other night.”
“Oh?”
“I’m not used to people not knowing who I am.”
“Oh.”
His hand was back in his hair and the nervous look was back on his face as he rushed to clarify, “I only mean that…I hadn’t meant to trick you or anything. I wasn’t trying to lie to you.”
You nodded your head and tucked your hair behind your ear in your own nervous tick. He clearly had more to say as his hand was extended out toward you in a gesture of appeasement and he had a desperate look in his eyes. You waited patiently for him to continue, looking up at him through your lashes in shyness.
“I honestly just wanted to talk to you. You stole my attention from the second I walked into that restaurant, and I didn’t even care if I looked like an idiot, I just had to talk to you.”
Your face was heating up at his confession and he was taking steps toward you as he seemed to read your willingness to listen.
“And then you seemed to know me, so I just followed along. It took me a while to figure it all out, but then I was just really enjoying your company and didn’t want to leave. Did you feel it too?”
Being asked the question came as a surprise to you and you gulped as you responded with a nod. He let out a relieved sigh in response.
“Thank God it wasn’t just me!”
He took another step toward you and the air in the space seemed to get heavier as you could almost feel the heat from his body at the new proximity. You tilted your head back to be able to look him in the eye. His big doe eyes were just as beautiful as they’d been in that restaurant. His dark hair was messy and wet. There was a trail of sweat down the side of his face. None of it mattered, nor did your reservations and feelings of inadequacy. Despite everything, or maybe because of everything, you wanted nothing more than to kiss him at that exact moment.
“We’ve got an away game coming up in a few days, and then I’ll be pretty busy coming up with playoffs on the horizon, but I mean…What do you think?” He asked, drawing your attention away from his lips and your desperate yearnings. “Will you give me a second chance to prove myself? I’d really like to take you on an actual date, if you’d let me.”
You felt your heartbeat speed up. The excitement of the possibilities take a full hold on you before you even try to answer. Here was an oxymoron of a man. Cute, yet unbelievably sexy. He could convince you of anything with his big doe eyes, but his body was sinful. You couldn’t deny the magnetism you felt the first time you met him and it wasn’t any less now. He was confident and strong and seemed very aware of his own importance as one of the best Hockey Players in the sport. Why else would he have invited you to the game, except to show off a bit? And yet he talked in interviews like he wasn’t full of his own importance, and he seemed shy and unsure when talking to you, and you were very aware of your own nobody status, especially when faced with THE Jeon Jungkook. He was kind in the restaurant, being patient with responses you gave, listened attentively, and asked questions - like he really cared! But he wasn’t lacking in his own observations and shared just as much. He was a perfect blend of good qualities. And while you knew that the ugly qualities would show themselves eventually. I mean, no one is without fault, even this seemingly perfect paragon. But you found yourself more interested to discover them, than you were afraid of them.
You smiled sweetly, which caused him to smile in hope. He almost seemed breathless. You giggled at his seeming eagerness.
“What did you have in mind?”
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writingwithcolor · 3 years
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Being an Agender, 1st-Gen Indian-American
I’m a first-generation immigrant, with both my parents being Indian immigrants. My mom immigrated to Canada before she came to America (when she was in her late twenties), and is a Canadian citizen. She was born and raised in Ahmedabad, a city in Gujarat. My dad moved to India when he was in his early twenties. He moved from Ahmedabad to Mumbai in his fifth standard, and moved from a Gujarati-medium school to an English-medium one. 
My dad is more fluent in English than my mom, though they both are fluent and speak mostly without an accent. I speak Gujarati more-or-less fluently, since that’s what we spoke at home, but I can barely even write my name. I’m Hindu, as is my family, and a strict vegetarian. I’m agender, but I use she/her and they/them pronouns. 
Beauty Standards
One of the biggest issues in the Indian-American community is the issue of body hair. I’m AFAB, so I was expected to have smooth, hairless legs and arms. The reality was rather different. Since the age of ten, I had more body hair than the boys in my class. I was mocked and called by the name of a TV animal character, whose name was a mispronunciation of my own. No one ever did anything about it. I was eight. My mother, though she meant well, pushed me into waxing and threading and other forms of hair removal since the day I turned eleven. Even now, as a fully-grown adult with my own apartment and my own life, I can’t bring myself to wear shorts or capris without having spent hours making sure my legs are smooth. Body hair is a huge issue that needs to be addressed more, and not just as a few wisps of blonde hair in the armpit region.
Food
It’s complicated. Growing up, we had thaalis (with roti, rice, sweet dal, and shaak [which is a mix of vegetables and spices]) for dinner almost every night. When we didn’t, it was supplemented with foods like pasta, veggie burgers, and khichdi. We made different types of khichdi each time, based off of different familial recipes that were all named after the family member who introduced them. My mom had to make milder food for my sister, and while my sister loves spicy foods now, I’m still not a big fan. A side effect of growing up in a non-white, vegetarian family is that no one in my family has any idea of what white non-vegetarians eat. Like, at all. It’s kind of funny, to be honest. 
Holidays/Religion
My mom is a Vaishnav, and my dad is a Brahmin, so the way they both worship is very different. My dad’s family places a huge emphasis on chanting and prayer, as well as meditation. They mostly pray to capital-G G-d, as the metaphysical embodiment of Grace. My mom’s family, however, places emphasis on– I don’t want to say “idol worship" because of the negative connotations that has– but they worship to murtis, statues that represent our gods. My mom’s favored god to pray to is Krishna, and we have murtis in our home that she performs sevato every day.
We celebrate Janmashtmi, Holi, Diwali, Ganesha Puja, Lakshmi Puja– too many to count, really. We don’t always go all-out, especially on most of the smaller celebrations, but we do try and attend the temple lectures on those days, or host our own. We also celebrate Christmas and Easter secularly. I didn’t even know Christmas was a Christian holiday until I was in elementary school, and Easter until I was in high school.
Micro-Aggressions
Whooo, boy. Where do I start?
When my sister was in first grade, she had a friend. I’ll call her Mary. Mary, upon learning that my sister was not, in fact, Christian, brought an entire Bible to school and forced my sister to read it during recess, saying that otherwise, she wouldn’t be her friend anymore. Mary kept telling my sister that she would go to hell if she didn’t repent, and that our entire family was a group of “ugly sinners.” When my sister came to me for advice, I told her that Mary wasn’t her friend, that Mary wasn’t being nice, and that my sister wasn’t going to go to hell, and that we don’t even believe in hell. When my sister finally stood up to Mary and told her that she wasn’t going to listen to her anymore, Mary got angry and dumped a mini-carton of chocolate milk on her and told her that “now she looks like what she is– a dirty [the Roma slur term].” Not only was that inaccurate, it was extremely racist, and Mary was only reprimanded for the milk-spilling, not the racist remark that came with it. 
On top of that, since I have long hair, I’m always getting asked if so-and-so can touch it, or what I do to get it so long, or why I allow myself to be “shaped by such backwards ideals of women.” My name is never pronounced correctly, and I’ve been asked to give people my “American name” to be called by instead of my actual name. I’ve been called a terrorist, asked why I wasn’t wearing a hijab (by white people btw), and mocked for my food. I’ve been told that I wasn’t “really Indian” because I didn’t have a dot on my forehead. I’ve been told I wasn’t “really Hindu” because I had milk on my plate, by a white boy whose mom was a leader of a local choir.
I grew up in a town where only 4-5% of the population was South Asian, and there were a total of five South Asians in my grade level. The school administration consistently and intentionally placed us in different classes, and I never made a friend that was South Asian until 7th grade. When I came to the school, I was placed in ESOL without even being tested, while also being in the Advanced Readers class. The school didn’t even care to look at my school records before placing me into ESOL based on the color of my skin. 
Things I’d Like to See Less/More Of
I’d like to see less of the “nerd” stereotype, of the “weak, nonathletic” stereotype. I’d like to see less of the “prude” stereotype, of the “I hate my culture/feel I don’t belong” stereotype. I’d like to see less of the “rebellion” stereotype, of the “my parents are so strict and I hate them” stereotype. I never want to see the “unwanted arranged marriage” trope. Ever.
I want to see bulky, tall Indian characters. I’d like to see Indian characters confident in their sexuality, whether that’s not having sex (for LEGITIMATE reasons like risk of STDs, general awkwardness before and after The Deed, and wanting to wait, not “oh my parents said so and also I’m sheltered and innocent”), or having a new sexual partner every night.
I want Indian characters (especially children/teens!!!) proud of their culture and their heritage and their religion, whether that’s Islam, Hinduism, Sikhism, or anything else. I want to see supportive Indian parents, I want to see more than chiding Indian grandmothers and strict Indian fathers. I want to see healthy arranged marriages, or healthy mixed-marriages. I want to see mixed Indian-POC couples, I want to see queer Indian couples.
I want to see body hair on female-presenting characters, I want to see more of India that isn’t “bustling market with the scent of spices in the air” and “poor slums rampant with disease” and “Taj Mahal”. I want to see casual mentions of prayer and Hinduism and Indian culture (a short “My mom’s at the temple, she can’t come pick us up” or a “what is it? i’m in the middle of a holi fight! eep! ugh, gulaab in my mouth” over a phone call, or a “she won’t answer until 12– she’s in her Bharatnatyam class/Gurukul class/doing seva/at the temple” would suffice). I want to see more Indian languages represented than just Hindi. There’s Tamil, Gujarati, Marathi, Nepali, and Kashmiri, just off the top of my head. The language your character speaks depends on the place they come from in India, and they might not even speak Hindi! (I don’t!)
I hate that Indian culture is reduced to “oppressive, strict, and prudish” when it's so much more than that. I hate that Indians are stereotyped to the point where it is a norm, and the companies reinforcing these stereotypes don’t take responsibility for their actions and don’t change. I hate the appropriation of Indian culture (like yoga, pronounced “yogh”, not “yo-gaaa” fyi, the Om symbol, meditation, and Shri Ganapathidada) and how normalized it is in Western society. 
This ended up a lot longer than I had expected, but I hope it helps! Good luck with your writing :)
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sothasil · 3 years
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hihhiihi i adore your work so much you have no idea, 2 things, 1; do you have any khajiit headcanons or the sort youd like to share? your thoughts are so fucking cool to me id love to hear more, 2; how the fuCK do you pronounce do'kataj?? is it like,kaht-ah-juh, kaht-jay? i love this shit.
I do have an idea because I've caught you sneaking in my notes for 4 year old posts :P thank you so much!
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do you have any khajiit headcanons or the sort youd like to share?
I'm going to share everything related to explaining everyone's favorite girl Ma'Jahrann and her design!
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[1] Earring: Given to her during her second naming day.
Khajiit don't celebrate birthdays in the modern western sense of the term. Instead, they celebrate someone's new name. Now, Khajiit canon naming conventions are as follows: no family name, but one name, and a prefix/suffix. My interpretation is as follows: the first name day is when the child is born, and given their first name. During their childhood, they'll go as Ma'/M', and their second name day is celebrated, this time bigger and with the whole community, to welcome them in, and stays their name until until they reach puberty. At this time, a second name day is celebrated as they lose the M(a)'. In adulthood, names are also changed, but based on the feats of someone's life. The base name can be changed to an earned nickname, and if it is, you guessed it, celebration! A prefix or suffix can be added if the person deserves it, and again, you celebrate! Older khajiit who have accomplished the most will almost always have a particle to their name, while young adults with peaceful lives will go by just their base name with nothing fancy around it, until they solidify their existence in the world.
The purpose of these naming day celebrations are to inform the community of the person's name, and to party hard about it. They are meant to be memorable and serve as benchmarks in your life. For Ma'Jahrann, her parents gave her a solid gold earring when she was introduced as well, Ma'Jahrann! She wears it constantly.
[2] Fur color, unsual and eye catching.
As you might have seen on my post with the Ohmes concept art for Beyond Skyrim, I draw khajiit with a huge variety of skin and fur colors, just like humans, but I like to incorporate some cat inspired genetics in there too. Ma'Jahrann's coloring is based on "strawberry" or "golden" big cats, which is a type of melanine deficiency. In her case, her father has normal fur colors (brown and black, on a light skin), and her mother is melanistic, with extremely light colored hair and a light golden skin. Ma'Jahrann inherited a bit of both, with her dad's patterns but her mom's lack of melanin, and she ends up with this unusual golden and red fur color.
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This being quite rare on top of looking striking, she's considered quite beautiful, since coat colors and markings are important for how Khajiit look at the beauty of their peers! In human equivalents, it'd be like seeing someone with a gorgeous skin color and the shiniest natural hair you've seen that perfectly compliments it. Her older brother got the short end of the genetics stick and looks very much like his mother but with his hair a bit darker. If he had fur, he would have no to very slight patterns.
[3] Long, thick tail.
Ma’jah is a tojay-raht, a type of Khajiit said to be at great ease in the trees. She has a long flexible body, short limbs, and a long strong tail to reflect this. I don’t have other tojay-raht OCs and have never drawn others, but they would share the same traits! However, the fluffiness is mostly just hers. She’s a great climber.
[4] Hair bangles
I’ve detailed these headcanons in my Elsweyr Style Guide before, but hair styling is very important to Khajiit style, and they favor braids, locks and updos in general, often very ornate! Ma’Jahrann styles hers in thick rows of braids close to her head, who end in a rag wrapped around four heavy metal rings. The shape of these rings is a lunar one. This style is done very tight and meant to last very long.
how the fuCK do you pronounce do'kataj??
Absolutely nothing in it schwaed, so clear those "uh" vowels from your mind! Pronounce the "a" and "o" like you would say Mario. The apostrophe works as a short pause/glottal stop (like when you say uh-oh! instead of uhoh), and the trickiest part is the last "j" - it's closest equivalent, assuming you are a native english speaker, is the "sh" sound (but voiced)
To get technical, it's [do.kataʒ], or [doʔkataʒ]. Channel your inner weeb for the first vowel but a shoddy english pronunciation would be dô kaht-ash! Rojatha’a would be rôshah tha-ah. There are no stresses.
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luvlyrv · 3 years
Text
Uncover | Seulgi x F!Reader
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Genre/warnings: fluff, angst, homophobia (religious)
Summary: You quickly learn that while it was easy to be dishonest with yourself, it was nearly impossible to lie to Seulgi.
Word Count: 4.7k A/N: This has been something wracking up in my brain since June. It's kind of embarrassing that it's taken this long but it's a lovechild of my emotions. Enjoy, and I hope you feel things.
Date: 9/21/21
You can't imagine a day without her, because she's always been there. Right from the day you could remember. You bet that she could be your last memory too.
Your first memory has you sitting in the living room playing with your toys as you anxiously eye the other child in the room. Some strangers had rung your doorbell and your mom and dad had welcomed them into the house. Now they were in the kitchen, their voices blending into each other in the background.
The small girl in front of you decided to take the liberty of picking up your toys and playing with them. She ran around playing in the imaginary world in her head. You think that she's having fun and that you want to have fun too, but you can't seem to move from your position. As you slowly try to build up the courage to talk to her she approaches you.
She had been glancing at you from the corner of her eyes too. She watched your shy self idly playing all alone. She found it hard to approach you, scared of you pushing her away or being mean, but she thought maybe it was worth it. You could be a friend.
"Hi!" The strange girl is right in front of you with one of your stuffed toys in hand. "Do you want to play with me? I'm Seulgi!"
"I'm Y/N…"
For the rest of the hour the two of you chased each other in a shared adventure. Enraptured in your own little wonderland until your parents had to pull you apart.
Soon it became a ritual for those strangers, who you later learned to be Mr. and Mrs. Kang, to visit your house. Along them was always their daughter Seulgi, who wouldn't hesitate to pull you into a large hug right before starting a new adventure with you.
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You slightly trail behind your best friend. You smile at yourself from the sight of Seulgi happily skipping, somehow filled with even more vigor than she usually has. She's always been filled with much more energy than you, amazed by even the smallest of things. You suppose something truly spectacular must be happening today for her to feel so extra. She turns her head over to look at you, flashing you her perfect smile with her perfect cheeks. The ones you always want to squish when you remind her of how cute she is.
She continues to bounce but slows down to be by your side. One of the favorite parts of your day, and hopefully hers too, would be the peaceful walk the two of you would always share before and after school. It always reminded you of how close you are. How you can always rely on her to listen and to brighten up your day.
She bites her lip while still smiling. She must be thinking about something.
"What's got you so excited today?" You ask her with a giggle.
"Guess!" She pesters leaning into you. A familiar feeling emerges in your chest from the contact.
"You know I'm really bad at guessing…"
"Well why can't you try?"
"All I know is that it has to be something really special, right?" You decide to lean back and push her a little as a tease.
"It is! Mom and dad bought me my favorite ice cream that we can share later today!"
You laugh at her as she continues giving her dumb smile. Seulgi moves in front of you with her eyebrows raised, waiting to hear your opinion about the news.
"Is that it?" You ask still laughing. She pouts a little.
"What do you mean 'is that it'? It's my favorite! And I get to share it with you!" With that you pull Seulgi in for a side hug.
"I'm kidding, I'm excited too."
You enjoy listening to whatever nonsense Seulgi thinks about and decides to spill to you as you guys continue walking. You feel a bit disheartened at the sight of the school building, but looking at Seulgi again is enough to make the disappointment go away.
As much as you wish it did, your schedule wasn't entirely with your best friend. Instead you had to split up as you entered the school grounds to your different classes. Fortunately you shared at least some classes with her, and most importantly lunch. So when you sit down at your desk with nobody talking to you, you don't feel too lonely. The anticipation of being reunited with Seulgi was enough for you.
As usual Seulgi finds your figure sitting down at a lunch table and immediately rushes towards you. She taps your shoulder as she sits down, hurriedly opening up her lunch box, her beastly appetite striking again.
"Oooh." She oogles as the both of you breathe in the sudden aroma of homemade food. You peer over to look at the contents of her lunch box. You swore that you can see the steam coming off of her rice.
"Open up!" Seulgi playfully demands of you. You oblige as she not so carefully throws a grape your way. It would've been lost if you didn't move your head to make up for the completely inaccurate trajectory.
"How are you still bad at this?" You ask her after chewing.
"Maybe I just like to see you work for your food." You laugh at her response as you carefully pick up a spring roll from your box and place it in hers.
"Mom fried it this morning so you better enjoy."
You enjoy the long-time tradition of sharing food and eating in relative silence. That time was short lived though as a small group of girls joined your table. You didn't mind them much, you'd even consider them casual friends. At the same time though, they were bothering you.
You found it strange that despite finally being with Seulgi you felt so lonely. So lost.
Seulgi's popular, you know that. A lot of people try to befriend her and fight for her attention. Being the social butterfly she is she never hesitated to say hello back and return the friendliness. By proxy you met a lot of nice people, a lot of not so nice people, and more. They never really stuck by for you though. They stayed for Seulgi.
You wish you understood why you were so bothered by those that stayed. Why you were always feeling jealous recently. You wonder if it's natural to feel so intensely sick when you watch your best friend's attention be pulled away by several different girls at a time, or laugh at a guys joke. Well, maybe you do know why.
You quietly sigh and push the thought away, instead trying to join in the chatter and laugh with everyone at the table. Just as you were about to calm down and ease into the group a sudden large group of guys and girls approach. One boy in particular seems to be leading the pack. You purse your lips as you silently watch them come over. Seulgi absent-mindedly continues talking, completely unaware of what was about to occur.
You tighten your hands into a ball as a feeling bubbles inside you. You can't place what it is. Is it fear? Anger? Jealously? It's probably both.
The boy also tightens his hands as they grip onto his shirt. You watch him bite his lip and see how a red color crawls up his neck and reaches the tips of his ears. You hold in a breath as he finally arrives at the table and Seulgi looks up at him.
"S-Seulgi." He barely manages to say her name aloud.
"Huh?" She looks at him cluelessly but gives him her full attention anyways.
"I like you! A lot! So if you can, please go out with me!" The boy's words spill out, as if his mouth was a floodgate holding them back. He reaches behinds him and quickly bends over to give Seulgi a piece of red paper, shaped like a heart. He probably wrote about his feelings extensively on it.
Your eyes had been focused on the love-stricken boy. It's hard for you to move your eyes towards Seulgi. You realize now what you're feeling. You fear what you'll see when you look over at Seulgi to see her reaction.
You notice that she's red too, the color slowly blossoming across her cheeks.
Why does this hurt you?
"Erm, ah, thank you." She says out of politeness and bows back. She gives him a smile and that seems to excite him. "I'll think about your confession."
He eagerly nods his head and leaves the table, happy with the results of his actions. The crowd around him seem to think that was a good ending and started whispering and congratulating him. You look back at your table and the girls are murmuring too.
"He's cute, you should definitely go for him!"
"I heard he treated his last girlfriend nicely. They're still on good terms."
"I've never seen you date before. Isn't now your time to explore?"
Seulgi just takes it all in and nods along with what they say. Your head hangs low as you pick at your food. You don't dare look up. You're scared of seeing Seulgi's face again. You're scared that tears will start falling.
It was like the weight of the world had fallen on your chest.
When the bell dismisses you from lunch you quickly go to your next class. You don't say goodbye to Seulgi or any of the other girls. You feel the light graze of Seulgi's fingertips as she tries to stop you, but you're too fast.
The rest of the school day is you trying to focus on studying, and when your last class finishes you're not sure what you'll do. Everybody leaves the classroom before you as you take some time for yourself. Breathing in and out, you mentally prepare yourself to face Seulgi, as if she was some type of monster.
As you exit the building and get near the gates you see a swarm of people with Seulgi in the center. They're probably there to ask about how she feels about the confession that happened. You sigh and almost contemplate leaving without her, but her eyes quickly find yours. Seulgi politely but abruptly says her goodbyes and runs towards you.
As Seulgi's figure grows nearer there's a feeling of satisfaction. It was like you had won some petty fight, and that feeling was able to erase the fear and nerves you had earlier. A smile grows on your face she reaches your side, your bodies automatically matching your steps. You enjoy the warmth when she locks her arm with yours. Not knowing what to say, you let silence fill the space in between the two of you until Seulgi decided to break it.
"So, do you wanna stay at my place for a bit so we can eat that ice cream?"
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Seulgi's keys jingle as she unlocks her front door. You follow in after her, putting your shoes away as she dashes towards her refrigerator to retrieve the ice cream from the freezer. You walk up towards her as she hands one to you. Naturally, both of you make your way outside into her backyard.
Her backyard is quaint, housing a nice garden that her mother often tends and one large tree. The two of you rest under it, appreciating the winding arms of the apple tree that has always given you and Seulgi refuge. You enjoy the taste of the ice cream, perhaps the shade was enhancing its flavor. Either way you understood why its Seulgi's favorite. The refreshing taste and Seulgi's presence puts a smile on your face. You feel yourself opening up again as you guys joke and talk about your day in between bites and licks. By the time you finish eating your ice cream she had managed to convince you that she needed your extra help in math. As always you agreed to tutor her.
She argues that you should stay underneath the tree as she gets up to throw away the trash. You watch as she goes back inside the house, coming out again with a shiny apple in hand that was picked only a couple days ago. You laugh a little as you ask,
"Still hungry?"
"Enough for a little snack."
She sits by you and takes a rest on your lap. You brush her hair away as you look into her eyes. You can tell she's thinking about something.
"What's wrong?" You ask her.
"Well, I was just wondering, why were you upset earlier?" She says in a serious tone.
"Huh?"
"You didn't even say goodbye at lunch, and don't pretend I didn't notice you almost leaving without me." There's a hint of hurt in her voice. You feel bad for not keeping your emotions in check better, that you threw a fit over something so small.
"Well," Your voice trails off as your mind struggles to think of a response, "what does that boy mean to you?" You decide to ask.
"Oh so now you want to know about that too?" There's only a slight annoyance in her voice as she gives you an eyeroll.
"I'm your best friend, of course I'm curious." Seulgi huffs at your response. She can't blame you for wondering so she takes a moment to think before answering honestly.
"I mean, I guess they weren't wrong. He's kinda cute, and I know it took a lot for him to say that to me. I admire him for it." She said it in a casual manner, as if it wasn't a big deal. Yet for you it meant everything. And it hurt.
You can't control the frown that found its way on your face.
"Hey…" Seulgi quickly gets up from your lap. She has a confused expression as her eyes scans yours. "Hey, what's wrong?" Her voice is soft as she puts a hand on your shoulder.
Your chest is about to explode.
"Do you like him or something?" She continues to grip onto your shoulder with a confused face. She thinks she was the one who did something wrong. That she's stealing someone away from you, but that was so different from the truth.
"No, Seulgi, I-" You pause to think about what you're going to say. Something was about to come out instinctively, and you don't know whether or not that was the best decision.
"You what?"
She presses you for an answer but you're still thinking. You're thinking about you know you can't handle her possibly being close to someone else. To share all of her laughs with that boy. To smile at him and spend time with him. To do all the things that exists between you and her. Living would feel wrong if you were no longer the one she ran to and spilled her secrets to.
Who are you if not Seulgi's biggest and only confidant? The only one who could soothe her in her darkest moments? The one who understands every feeling and thought just by the way she blinks?
You're intimately familiar with the feeling in your chest now. You think that you know what it is too, but that doesn't make you hate it any less. If you could, you'd sacrifice every fiber of your being to forget that feeling and throw it away. To pretend it doesn't exist. But your wishes don't make it go away.
You can be dishonest with yourself, but it's impossible to lie to Seulgi. Not when she looks at you like that.
"I like you."
The words are barely a whisper but she hears. Seulgi's hand falls off your shoulder and you want to cry again. You said the wrong thing. She was going to think you're disgusting. She would never go on a walk with you again. You'll never smell her perfume again. You'll never hear her laughter again. She'd never touch you again. Never speak to you again.
Her mouth is open slack. Your eyes water and you breathe in, readying yourself to apologize profusely. To rescind the blasphemous words that slipped out of your foul mouth.
"I'm so sorry. Just ignore it. I take it back. I think I'm sick or something, you know, delirious. Just ignore it please. Please." Tears begins to fall down your face as Seulgi seemingly snaps back to reality. She reaches towards you, taking your face in her hands as her thumbs swipe away the tears.
"Oh my god, no, don't cry." She begs you to stop, but you can't.
"I-I'm, I'm sorry." The tears continue to make their way down your face. A horrible sickness wells in your stomach and suddenly it feels below freezing as you shake uncontrollably.
"No, don't be." She hugs you tight and whispers in your ear. "I like you too. So stop crying. For me, please." She strokes your back as you cry, hoping that the touch could settle you down.
It takes a while for you to register what she says, but as soon as you do your body seizes up. You think that maybe your everything, your soul, has shattered into a million pieces from Seulgi's words. How in the world could it be true? It couldn't be, not in this universe, not in this timeline.
Yet it was.
When Seulgi hears your sniffling stop and your body letting go of its tension she separates her body from yours. Her eyes are all you can see, and all you can see in them is pain.
"I'm sorry for making you worried." You felt guilty that she had to see you cry. The outburst at school wasn't great either.
"Don't worry about it" She reassures you by taking a hand in hers, stroking it with her delicate fingers to show you her affection. For several moments you allow yourself to breathe. Seulgi also took the time to process everything, and the two of you stared at each other with the new understanding of your feelings. Time seems to pass so slowly when you observe each other with care.
"Seulgi…" You mumble when what felt like years passed. She understood what you meant when she saw the way you looked at her lips.
In that moment you couldn't care anymore. Neither could Seulgi, it seemed, as you pressed your lips on hers and she pressed back. Greedily, the two of you dived in for a taste. Your lips on hers, her tongue in your mouth, it was something you needed. It was a flavor you could relish forever, perhaps this is what sin tasted like. Yes, this is what they'd call it. A sin.
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It feels like everything has changed, but at the same time it hasn't. You still spend every second possible with Seulgi. You spend your time doing the same things. Yet everything feels so different, it feels brand new. Magically, it feels better than before. Is this the power that Seulgi has over you?
Nobody knows, nobody needs to know. After all, you're still Seulgi's bestfriend. Is there really anything different? Maybe just the tighter hugs, the kisses, and the alluring smiles, but that's all. Life is easy this way.
After bidding Seulgi goodbye in front of her house you go home to eat dinner with your family. You come home and greet your parents with a smile as you rush to join them at the dinner table. They share that smile as they take note of your enthusiasm recently. As you eat quietly for a while your mom finally asks you what's been going on to make you shine so much.
"Well..." You debate on what to say. It's been over a month since you confessed to Seulgi but you were still feeling high. You've been holding it for so long you wished you could tell someone. Why not them? You want them to be happy with you too. "I've been dating Seulgi."
"Hm?" Your mom asks you somewhat aggressively for clarification. The sudden stillness in the air alarms you. You look up from your food to see your mom staring as your dad stops eating.
"I-I told her I liked her and she liked me back." You say hoping to clear whatever confusion was occuring. Yet the look on your parents didn't fade.
"What happened?" You father's question sounds more like a statement as he sternly places his utensils down.
"What do you mean what happened? I just told you."
"What happened to make you like this?" His cold voices breaks a little as you notice his eyes tearing up. Was he seriously upset about this?
"You're joking, right?" Your mom joins in with an angry tone.
"Of course I'm not. Mom, she makes me really happy." You struggle to keep yourself composed under the scrutiny of both of your parents.
"Y/N. You are not happy. You're messing with the devil right now and he's fucking up your mind."
"Have you not been doing your prayers?"
You can barely fight for yourself at the dinner table. Your parents argue with and over you, about the causes and the whys. About the signs and what happens next. You cry as you watch your decision unfold into your nightmare.
You knew deep down inside this would happen, but you hoped and prayed that it wasn't true. Perhaps Seulgi made you too happy, too brave. Everything else felt like it was going right so you convinced yourself this would too. You've flown too close to the sun and it backfired. You should've never said anything.
As you try to block out the fight unraveling in front of you you could only scream one thing while crying. "Wouldn't God want to love me? Wouldn't He want you to love me too?"
The scrape of the wooden chair echos as your mom shoots up straight. "I will not house some heathen under my roof. Get out until you realize what you've done to this family."
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It's raining. The relentless torrent of water against your body traps in the coldness from the night, leaving you shivering as your feet move on their own. They move to the only other place that feels like home. The only other person that feels like home.
Soon enough you find yourself in front of a familiar door, incessantly knocking. Muffled footsteps come from the other side of the door as you hear locks being undone until the door finally opens. Instantly there's a look of worry on Mr. Kang's face as he takes in the scene in front of him. He quickly ushers you in and shuts the door.
"Who is it?" A voice rings from upstairs.
"It's Y/N!" Mr. Kang yells back, and soon enough you hear a flurry of footsteps coming downstairs. Seulgi, in her tired glory, appears. She rushes towards you as her father went off to find you some towels to dry off with.
"Oh my god, what happened? Why are you here? Are you okay?" Seulgi's honey eyes are glistening with worry. She doesn't seem to care too much about the fact that you're soaked as she embraces you in a hug. Her body soothes you, its warmth penetrating the cold, wet clothes that clung to your body. You let her ground you back to reality before speaking.
"I don't wanna talk about it right now." You barely manage to get the words out. Your throat feels tight, constricted. Throughout the entire time the tears haven't stopped running down your face as it mixed with the rain water. Seulgi rubs your back as her father comes back. Both of them begin patting you dry.
It feels a bit pathetic as you have two people fretting over you so much, but you're too tired to move. Maybe not even tired, but rather stuck in your own thoughts.
"Go get her something to change into. Are you gonna stay the night?" Her dad asks after making Seulgi go back upstairs to find clothes. You just nod in response and follow her.
When you enter Seulgi's room you find her hastily going through her drawers, finding something comfortable for you to wear. After digging through her clothes she hands you some sweatpants and an oversized shirt, much like her own outfit she was sporting. Your hands are in front of you and holding onto the clothing, yet you still can't seem to move much. Instead your lips tremble as you look at the floor. Seulgi sighs as she nears you, unfolding the clothes and looking at your trembling hands.
"Don't make me dress you." She half-teases. When she realizes you can't will yourself to move a grim line stretches across her face. She wonders what has gotten you so riled up to act this way.
Carefully, she removes your clothes and throws them into the laundry pile. Her fingers innocently skim your body as she puts on the clothes for you, with you doing the minimal movements required to help her. Over the years she's already been more than familiar with your body, and the same for you with her touch. Although you can't vocalize it you silently appreciate the care and intimacy she demonstrates.
Soon enough she finishes though and pulls you towards her bed. Sitting you down she places herself behind you after grabbing a dry towel. She begins to dry your hair while letting you stay silent. Another thing you appreciated about her. She let you take your time.
"Seulgi..." Your voice croaks out as if you've aged several decades.
"Yes?" She stops drying off your hair, instead placing the towel down as she wraps her arms behind you and leans forward.
"They know." She doesn't say anything but her body is still for a minute. Afterwards she finishes drying off your hair, at least one of you can stay calm in this situation. That's what you need. "They told me to come back when I come to my senses."
"It's okay. Everything will be okay. We'll figure something out." You let her guide you down on her bed. Your crying had stopped a while back, but the shock coursing through your body didn't. As Seulgi pulled up the sheets and began to hold you you turned around and looked at her. You looked into the eyes that told you everything. Right now they told you that all Seulgi had on her mind was you.
So you think that you should only think of Seulgi too, because you can always forget about the consequences when you're with her. With a kiss on your forehead she tells you to sleep. She gets impossibly closer to you, holding you tight. Holding you as if you are her treasure.
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The familiar trees and houses enter your view as you drive down your childhood neighborhood. Your fingers tap on the steering wheel as you listen to the song Seulgi played in the car. Out of the corner of your eye you see her smile at the thought of visiting her parents. It's enough to make you happy as well.
As you near her parent's house you pass by your own. It's been years since you've been inside, years since you even saw it. You're okay with it though, but your mind still wonders how your parents are doing. You wonder if the house is lonelier now, if they ever think about the sparse letters and phone calls you have exchanged and how they always were fights. Do they know you and Seulgi are coming to visit? Will they want to see you?
Whatever the answer is it doesn't matter. The only family you have to worry about is the girl right next to you and her parents. You feel thankful that she's your first love and hopeful that she's your last. Despite how many times your lives have separated you two, how you both dated other people and had your own quarrels, you guys came back to each other in the end. She changed you during your formative years and supported you as the two of you have grown up.
No one else can make you uncover these sides and feelings like she does.
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Vampy come down for family dinner and help clean up like he wasn’t just defiling their daughter 10 minutes ago
Harry would rail the fuck out of her in her closet with one hand over her mouth and another around her throat, grunting absolute filth into her ear as she spills over him with muffled whines and sobbed pleas. He’d lick her clean, pull her panties and leggings back up her quaking thighs, and proceed to buckle his slacks casually while she props herself against the wall, trembling and panting.
He just leans forward and presses a chaste kiss between her sweaty brows, her skin sticky against his lips as he murmurs smugly. “I’m gonna go finish cleaning up the kitchen with your mum. Come back down after you’ve sorted yourself out, and don’t forget to wipe your makeup off. It’s smeared down your face.”
Y/N does as he says, wiping the watery steaks of mascara off her cheeks and fixing her wild hair, making sure to leave no evidence of their little escapade, lest Harry end up sleeping outside on the yard. When she finally gets back down to her living room (she takes the stairs extra carefully, her belly throbbing with each step), the vampire is sitting in the rocking chair next to her mother’s, swaying lightly as they chat away nonchalantly.
They’re laughing and gossiping, their hands occupied with all types of yarn and needles, and she always forgets that Harry had learned how to knit when he was younger. It’s so baffling to see him engaging innocently with her mom, his nimble fingers expertly working on a multicolored scarf as he does so, not sparing the piece the slightest glance due to how confident he is in his skills. The reason it’s especially startling is because those fingers had been inside her not even five minutes ago.
“So we were running around this lake near my house,” Harry explains candidly, clearly in the middle of telling a story from his past as his digits weave in and out amidst red and purple yarn, “and we were playing in the snow near the banks, which was our first mistake. My mother had told me that the snow around the shores tended to be really slushy, so if we weren’t careful, we’d end up slipping really easily. We didn’t listen, of course— what ten year old does? We were playing tag with the neighbors, and as I was chasing after Gemma, I accidentally shoved her a bit too hard and she slipped and fell right into a pile of muddy snow. Completely stained everything she was wearing.”
Her mom releases a disappointed hiss, giving him a sympathetic glance over the glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. “Poor thing.”
Harry nods in agreement, looping yarn over his needles as he extends the scarf over his lap for more space, continuing his labor. “My mum grounded me for a week, and I spent that entire time learning to knit so I could remake Gemma’s mittens, since I was the one that ruined them. It was a fair punishment, honestly, and I ended up liking it more than I thought. Plus, the mittens I made were way better than the original pair. You just can’t buy this type of talent anywhere.”
The older woman laughs boisterously at his self-absorbed joke, which results in Harry smiling to himself proudly, giggling along.
Y/N clears her throat softly, leaning against the archway that leads into the room and crossing her arms over her chest in a relaxed manner, quirking an eyebrow at both of them as she makes her presence known. “Having fun?”
Harry glimpses over at her, his eyes raking down her body to where she’s clasping her thighs tightly, irises gleaming with knowing condescension. “Loads.”
“Harry was just telling me about when he learned to knit!” Y/N’s mother chirps, sending a warm smile towards the boy sitting across from her, unaware of the fact that he’d been defiling her daughter not too long ago. “It’s not often that you find a young man with this type of interest. He’s a keeper, sweetheart.”
“Hear that?” The immortal gloats teasingly, wagging his brows playfully as he holds up his unfinished accessory. “I’m a keeper.”
“Mm.” His girlfriend hums sarcastically, rolling her eyes towards the ceiling to avoid giving him any satisfaction. “I bet you’re just loving all this praise, aren’t you?”
Harry whistles lowly, tutting in a chastising fashion. “Someone’s jealous.”
Y/N rectifies her posture, an appalled expression cracking over her features. “Am not!”
“Are to.”
“Am not.”
“Are to.” Harry insists doggedly, looking over at the older woman for support. “Isn’t she?”
Her mom studies her for a moment, clicking her tongue scoldingly. “I think maybe you are, honey. Just a bit.”
Harry cranes his head back towards Y/N, sticking his tongue out mockingly behind the woman’s back and scrunching up his face comically, flaunting his childish point.
“Plus, Harry was sweet enough to make you that scarf he’s working on. You should be more grateful.”
Harry softens his eyes dramatically, sugaring his voice into a honeyed drawl that only she can read through. “Yeah, Y/N. I’m going out of my way to make you this nice gift, and that’s the thanks I get?”
“Dickhead.” The girl grumbles pettily, shifting on her feet as she glowers at him.
Her mother glares at her accusingly. “Language! I taught you better than that!”
“Mm. You should be more careful with what you say; words hurt more than you know.” Harry tacks on with a snide grin, shrugging his brows daringly as he slips an innuendo into his next line. “Mouthing off like that could get you into a whole lot of trouble.”
The pit of her tummy throbs at his curtained challenge, her eyes narrowing as she bites back the urge to curse him out again. “Thanks for the moral advice, Aristotle, but I’m grown enough to face the consequences of my own actions.”
Harry slowly puts down his knitting needles onto the small table beside him, picking up the scarf laying across his thighs and rolling it out in its entirety. It’s now that she realizes the item is much too thin width-wise to be scarf— it looks more like a belt, similar to the strap used to tie off a robe. The vampire flickers his gaze over to Y/N’s mom to make sure she’s not watching, and once he sees the lady is once again preoccupied with her knitting, he trains his attention back onto his partner.
He lifts the long colorful band up to his neck, tying one end around his throat loosely and wrapping the excess length around his knuckles, giving the article a symbolic tug. Y/N’s cheeks burst with heat at the crude reenactment, suddenly coming to terms with what he’s actually created under the guise of a harmless statement piece: it’s a makeshift collar.
Harry watches her avidly, a sinister smirk carving his dimples into place once he sees she’d understood his implication. He yanks the leash from around his neck swiftly before he gets caught, rolling the material back up neatly to disguise it. He cocks his head to the side conceitedly, his accent slathered with the same amount of arrogance as his gesture. “You never know, dove. Sometimes the consequences might be too much for you to handle.”
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irenedubrovna · 3 years
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A post regarding Euphoria for the benefit of myself and basically no one else
So, it really bothers me when people say Euphoria is groundbreaking, progressive media. Here’s a dissection of why I don’t think it is, because this is what I feel like doing at work:
The character of Rue is objectively great. She by far receives the least overt sexualization, and is treated neutrally in terms of active sexuality. She’s treated like a normal teenage girl with mental issues and an addiction to drugs. She falls in love with a girl who she pines for and places on a pedestal. The reason I think she is written this way is because she is a Sam Levinson proxy. She written with gender ambiguity and with little regard to the experiences she’d go through as a black gay female, probably because Sam Levinson has no insight to that aspect of life. Her performance is heightened of course by Zendaya, who breathes unique life to the Sam Levinson’s artistic extension, and without her performance this show would not get even half the acclaim it gets. Attribute that to Zendaya of course, because the director has done little to deserve this acclaim.
The rest of the females, sans Lexi, are pornified to a disgusting extent, not only due to the fact that they are supposed to be underage, but also because their existence as people is treated as being absolutely secondary to their sexual appeal. They are foremost presented in terms of their relation to sex. Cassie, Maddy, Jules, and Kat cannot be removed from their sexuality without disrupting the plot or their journeys in relation to the plot. Why are the females so intrinsically linked to uber fetishized versions of female sexuality, or uber fetishized versions of blossoming female sexual identity?
Maddy is presented not only scantily clad 90 percent of the time, but also dressed in a precariously unattainable sexual fashion. At any given time she is styled to look straight out of, simultaneously, a high fashion editorial, and a “barely legal” porno. She is airheaded and profane, and promiscuous, her mannerisms dictated by the adult films she’s “studied” in order to project an image of perfect hyper sexual femininity. She’s complacent in becoming a prototypical housewife because it will earn her a comfortable place as a trophy wife. She has no aspirations beyond that. So, let’s unpack all of that. Maddy’s role in the show is mostly passive. The most active thing she does in the plot is revenge fuck a man in the pool of a party. Nearly everything else she does in the show that is plot relevant is of someone else’s volition. Even less of what she in the show is related to anything other than a man. She is abused and then pressured into framing another man for said abuse. She has no agency as a character. The only notable difference to this rule is when she takes drugs at a carnival, knocks a pot of chili over, and calls her ex’s mom a cunt. Removed from her active sexual life and carefully cultivated aesthetic, she’s a trite stereotype of an unambitious girlfriend who gets treated poorly. I see people call Maddy iconic, but if she wasn’t gorgeous and well dressed, I doubt anyone would even think twice about her, let alone create fancams and Instagram pages dedicated to her. She exists as a plot device, and as pretty set dressing to build up the shows aesthetic. Her emotions are not well explored, her motivations are sexist, and she is often there to be demeaned, objectified, or to say a bad word. The most damning part of her involvement in this show is her episode where it is stated that she, as a fourteen year old girl, lost her virginity to an adult man, and it is stated she was in control of the situation. This is a dangerous thing to say about a character, to any audience, but especially a young one. To imply that a precocious young girl was in control during her first sexual encounter with a much much older man implies things that frankly border on rape apologist ideology. This show states this unflinchingly and with no further elaboration. If there’s one thing that tells you that Euphoria is a bad show, let it be that. Also, if there’s one thing that tells you about Sam Levinson as a person, and the way he views girls and women, let it fucking be that.
Jules is a young trans girl. She also likes to have sex with men as a means to “conquer femininity”. Scratch that, she likes to have degrading sex with older men in order to “conquer femininity”. This mindset is shown to be toxic, of course, but I think the problem with this idea in general is that there’s no deeper exploration for what this mindset means. It implies that she believes women are the sum of their intrigue and degradations. This mindset I can only assume would be a cultivation of dysphoria and internalized misogyny, which this series is absolutely not prepared to address in a tactful manner. Jules is a teenager with mental illness, trauma, and is undergoing an identity crisis. There’s something powerful in her character, something worth saying, however we only get trimmings of those meaningful things, and are ultimately left with a hurtful depiction of a trans girl because all of her musings on womanhood and identity are incomplete, and they fail to reach beyond the surface of their thesis statement. She wears colorful clothing, is overtly feminine and artistic in her presentation. Everything about her screams insecurity over her own womanhood. That is the crux of her character. Now, I think we should ask ourselves, is trans person who is insecure about their identity peak representation? Is this what trans people deserve? Is it “groundbreaking “? If this show was run by someone else, I might be inclined to say that there’s nothing insidious about this, but this is the guy that made Assassination Nation, so I think we know what he thinks of young women, the way they should be portrayed (that is, for the capitulation of a man) and realize his inclusion of a trans woman in his cast is no more meaningful than the inclusion of any other woman. Women to him are made to be categorized and should, at the end of the day, be easily palatable for the capitulation of a man. The device of having Jules being interested in older men and rough sex for identity reasons is transparent. Trans women are exploited and objectified with a similar fervor to cis women, the caveat being that they are “a forbidden fruit” of sorts to straight men. Jules is sissified, her presentation fetishistic. Her role in the plot is more involved. Her relationship with Rue is sweet, though toxic on both sides. She is ultimately betrayed, blackmailed, and snowballs into something of a manic episode, all well portrayed by Hunter Schafer, but I don’t think her inclusion in the show absolves it of any of its many sins.
Let’s talk about Cassie. Cassie is the Eurocentric beauty standard exemplified. She is the blonde haired blue eyed girl next store, and her boobs are of course always on display. She is notably promiscuous, something I say right off the bat because that’s how she’s introduced, as a so called slut through the words of the devil (Nate Jacobs). She is a girl with daddy issues, which we are all familiar with at this point. Her sexual boundaries begin and end at the whim of her partner. The terms of her consent are much like the terms of consent of many young girls brainwashed by society and the rising tide of degradation porn: everything is alright as long as you provide them comfort and affirmation afterward. You can touch them roughly without asking, you can use them as a tool to affirm your masculinity. This is the way men prefer their women now: just broken enough to say yes to anything they want. It’s become a joke at this point. Men like girls with issues, but only the ones that will feed their own desires. Cassie Howard is meek. Her inclusion in the plot I suppose ties to themes of drug addiction and how it divides and destroys the people you love. It doesn’t show what it does to her beyond shaping her sexual encounters, which is no surprise. Overall I’d say Cassie is in this roster of females as the most traditional categorically, in relation to how men view women and further how they sexualize them. She has a relationship with someone who doesn’t really love her. That mostly what she does here. Gets used. Doesn’t drive the plot or conflict much. More pretty set dressing. More aesthetics. How this show consists of so many women but is driven so much by men is unsurprising, and, again, very enlightening in the grand scheme of things.
Lastly we touch on Kat. I’d like to begin with the fact that self actualization through sexual exploration, in a show run by a man, is just a cloak for a woman to gratify the audience with her sexuality. Regardless of whether or not she is plus sized, this is overt objectification. She is on this show to be sexy. Beyond that, the fact that a minor using sex work as a form of liberation is disgusting. Whether or not she is portrayed as “owning” her sexuality is negligible, and speaks to the same mindset discussed with Maddy. Minors cannot fucking consent to sex, sexual acts, or anything within the confines of such. It’s crazy that this occurs with two different characters in such a similar way. It has echoes of “Well, she looked older..” and “Well, she wanted it..” or “She’s advanced for her age”. Never, not once in the events of the series is there meaningful introspection on what doing this kind of thing does to a minor. Moreover, these acts are explicit, and made clearly for sexual gratification. None of these things are absolved by the fact that she’s plus sized. If anything, her body type is fetishized in this context. It’s also another case of a “good girl to bad girl” transformation, which are archaic and, of course, sexist. With the rise of adult websites targeting minors for explicit content, this is even more reprehensible. Once again, in terms of representation, is this really what speaks to you as progressive? Groundbreaking? A girl gains control of her own narrative by having sex with lots of men. She gains control by being sexy. She gains control by dehumanizing and objectifying herself. No she doesn’t. Media controlled by men will tell this story to you thousands of times, don’t listen because she’s bigger than a size four.
ALL OF THESE CHARACTERS ARE UNDERAGE. ALL OF THEM HAVE EXPLICIT SEX SCENES, EVEN THE SEXUAL ASSAULT IS MADE CINEMATICALLY PORNIFIED. THESE SHOTS ARE MADE TO BE OBJECTIVELY SEXY. THIS IS NOT A CASE OF SOMEONE CREATING SOMETHING FOR THE SAKE OF REALISM. IT IS ABOUT MAKING SCENES THAT SPEAK TO A MALE AUDIENCE. THAT CATER TO THE MALE GAZE. ARGUE WITH THE WALL.
I won’t go further into the plot, other characters, or the structure or the episodes for sake of brevity, but I felt compelled to air my thoughts on this to the void. I can only hope I was critical enough that Sam Levinson will one day see this and cry because another bad feminist thinks something that he made sucks
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filczi · 3 years
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IT STARTED WITH A KISS HOW DID WE END UP LIKE THIS.
AN: Before we start. I just want to quickly mention that this is my first story since 2019. It’s not perfect in any way - grammatically and stylistically - English is not my first language. I truly attempted my best to make it look good for a “reader's” eye so many times I honestly can’t look at this story anymore. I’m a perfectionist who spends hours crying fat tears over this while trying to edit it. 
PLEASE LIKE & ENJOY < 3 send me a lil message what you think about my first child of many.
WARNING: I never completely watched “Defending Jacob” | age-gap between characters, slight 18+ content.you read at your own risk. Both Jacob and the reader are adults in this story. 6,5k words.
Happy early valentines day since I'm v sick at home < 3
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He has a wife.
Surprisingly, this is the first thought of realization that your brain decided to process from all the things happening around you. The second your feet cross over the threshold of the most intimate looking living room that you ever had the chance to be inside. It feels like a fresh whiff of air or a train coming your way with all force - knocking out of you any sense of brain maturity you previously held.
The moment your eyes settle on him. He’s there. The head of the house. Just like you heard Jacob calling him playfully while you spend late evenings together, drinking instead of studying for upcoming exams. Always managing to comfort one another by telling outrageous family stories which happened over the weekend you’d spend apart with your own families. 
Standing all the way back in the kitchen area, cornered by some individuals in important attire, engrossed in a vivid conversation that required a lot of hand gesticulations and insulting words. Unfazed statue of an attractive man whose beauty cannot be surpassed by anything you’d seen in this world. Propped against the edge of the kitchen counter behind him, nursing a bottle of what seems to be a beer in one of his hands, while he calmly observes the scene in front of him with a stoic expression. 
You blink a couple of times, just making sure of the conviction you made that this man looks like he rather belongs in a movie scene or on the cover of the magazine not in depressing Newton, Massachusetts.
“Honey, come here for a moment. Jacob bought a guest.”
A lovely, nice wife.
You subconsciously add when the mature woman moved into your point of view, effectively making you lose your train of thought, you can still hear your best friend’s moans after his mom's affectionate attention.
“I’m Laurie, sweetheart.” she quickly introduces herself before her hands develop you in a tight welcoming hug, nearly knocking the air out of your lungs.
Laurie is a beautiful neat-looking woman, whose eyes spark with uncontrollable joy that Jacob already told you so much about, including the ways he could always make her forgive him for everything he managed to break as a child - or not. She’s giving you the idea of a perfect mother example, that kind of woman you’d like to become one day when you think about your own family, the one who always held her head high, no matter the obstacle she’s about to face on her way. The one giving warmth and light towards the family fire. That gives the warmest hugs of them all and cheeks so bright and sparkling as if she smiles like this all day.
“Mum’s a huger,” Jacob shrugged his shoulders at the look you gave him when his mother disappeared the second after promising to fetch something delicious for you after the long journey you both went through.
“And that's your--” you quickly pointed your head into the exterior of the house, trying to discretely indicate the place Jacob’s father was occupying. Not refusing yourself to cast another glance at the visionary man whose identity was still somewhat unknown, or you just couldn’t bring yourself to believe it.
Please, don’t be his father...
“Head of the house,” Jacob jokes again, gently swaying on his feet visibly getting annoyed at something. He furrows his brows for a second before addressing you again “you know, lawyers never sleep, there’s always a cause worth fighting for.”
You nod your head in silent understanding, knowing how much Jacob went through when he was younger and how much his entire family paid for that.
“I’m going to be such a dick now, but I really have to pee,” Jacob complained under his breath before throwing a longing glance towards the stairs leading to the first floor of the house. You guessed that’s where the bathroom is. "mom will be back in a second and she’s going to show you the guest bedroom, just sit and ignore the legal gibberish coming from the kitchen.”
“But--” you instantly panicked. “please, don’t leave me here alone.” 
“Relax, you’ll be fine here. He’s not going to eat you, he doesn’t even know someone else besides his friends is home that’s how into work he usually is.”
Sending you a reassuring look, your best friend quite literally rushed through the hall and up the stairs as if he was on fire.
It’s weird to finally be in the house you heard so much about from Jacob's stories. Where you can see everything by your own eyes, the place your best friend grew up in and had his first memories from - home.
“Girlfriend?” It seems like you can't breathe, as you hear a deep masculine voice at the side of your ear completely throwing you out of your thoughts,
“I’m sorry?”
“You’re my son’s girlfriend?  It's your time to smile now, gently tipping your head back you let bubbles of amusement fill you,
 “No, we’re friends. I thought Jacob told you, Mr. Barber that-”
“Andy.” the tall male corrected you instantly,
“I’m sorry?”
“It’s okay to call me Andy. I don’t care,” the broad man shrugged his shoulders at you. 
You feel like your head is in the cloud and your ears are stuffed with cotton wool.
He has a wife, 
“Alright.”  You try to clear your throat before speaking again. “I thought Jacob told you-- his parents that he’s bringing a friend for a weekend.”
“Ah nice there, trying to avoid calling me by my name, I’ll give it to you.”
You didn’t even know you could flush crimson so easily, before you met Mr. Barber, or rather Andy no other men made you feel like this.
He was even more magnificent from up close as if it’s even achievable. Every detail of his face looked like it was fractured by God himself, who certainly put a lot of work into making such a masterpiece a living human being. Casting a shy glance at his pretty face, coated with a few days overgrowth beard that looked almost too scandalous to carry, to the way his broad shoulders moved with every breath he took, stretching the dress shirt he was currently wearing like painting on the canvas. Wide and big forearms looking like a superhuman in every definition of the word possible, to the way his hands spread, including the color of his creamy skin peeking out from the rolled-up sleeves of his white crispy shirt, and fingers...
God, his fingers.
Thick digits wrapped each by each around the same bottle of the beer you have seen him holding during the second you stepped your foot into his house. Ceremonially holding the neck of the bottle as if it's the prices thing in his possession right now.
“You know how boys are” the man in front of you shook his head before you realized.
“I’m so sorry I forgot to introduce myself, I’m Y/N”
The chuckle that seeped out of Andy’s chest could have you on your knees if he wasn’t your best friend’s father in any type. He shook his head at you, eyes squinting in hidden adoration as he took a step back before placing the already forgotten and empty bottle on some random shelf with pictures and materials on it.
“Alright little girl, have it your way then, I’m Andy Barber, so nice to meet the only female friend my son has,” there’s this certain nip in the tone of his voice that makes you believe you just discovered something new about your best friend’s father no-one else your age possibly had before.
You bit onto your tongue the second his hand developed around yours completely taking you off the guard, warmth scattered across your entire body, almost letting you let a mewl out of your own the second his skin tasted yours. Fingers wrapped across yours like it's a beautiful lover's symphony, and maybe you just imagined the way the surface of his fingers brushed delicately across the bone of your knuckles for a few times before he squeezed your hand again - successfully knocking the air out of your lungs this time.
He has a wife.
Your subconscious warns you urgently, striving to immediately destroy the idea of any incidents happening shortly before they even have the chance to push any roots into your brain, as you feel your head shutting out on you, you feel completely dumb the moment you finally got the chance to stand face to face with your best friend father.
He called me a little girl not even two seconds ago.
“I can show you the guest bedroom if you’d like to.”
You send a glance towards the expanse of the kitchen again, where a lot of mature men fought nevertheless with one another. It was hard to understand what everything was about as in the middle of common English terms law language appeared that you knew nothing about.
“Aren’t you working?” you asked sheepishly, nodding towards the group of a man with a lot of papers in their hands, “Jacob said you do that a lot--”
“So you talk about me with my son huh?” there’s that cheeky smile of his again.
“I-no.” you shake your head before squirming at the intensity of his gaze on you. “he was just talking about how hardworking you are Mr--Andy.”
Andy hums under his breath, giving you the idea that he’s definitely thinking about what you said before smiling under his breath for one insane second before coming back to being all serious again. He breaths out quietly, brushing the side of his beard with one of his hands before setting on a scowl on his beautiful features.
“I’m going to show you where you’ll be sleeping.”
“But Mr. Barber, you don’t have to I don’t want to cause any trouble, you’re working.”
“Y/N, stop being a brat and come with me I'm not taking no for an answer, Laurie is already picking groceries from the store to make you nice filling dinner before bed so c’mon.”
“I thought your wife was just---”
Andy snickered under his breath before giving you a hand ahead giving you a silent sign to walk up the stairs ahead of him.
He wanted you to lead?
“That’s how Laurie is, you can’t expect anything from this woman.”
Turns out the guest bedroom you were supposed to spend a few of the next weeks in was nowhere near ready for anyone’s arrival. It looked a little bit neglected but nothing you couldn’t cope with. You insisted Mr. Barber that you can change the sheets of the bed yourself, and try to tidy up a little here and there but the man of the house insisted on helping you with everything you could have encountered on your way.
Firstly, you never expected him to change the bed sheet for you since you were completely capable of doing it yourself, but you couldn’t complain since you got the chance to see the way his muscles work underneath the dress shirt he was probably wearing all day already that looked a little bit maintained. but you couldn’t complain about the view for sure.
“Why are you looking at me like this?” he asked you since the only noise of the room was the ruffled sheets in his hands,
“Well.” you swayed shamelessly at the tops of your heels, not understanding why but being alone with him made you drop your shyness, “It’s nice to see a man knowing his way with things.”
The silence in this room was almost unendurable.
Did I fuck up? 
“I know my way with things, yes.” he nodded his head in confirmation to your words.
“I live alone with my dad and I just can’t bear to look how much he despises to do it.”
He narrows his eyes at you in silent question,
“Changing the sheets I mean,” you laugh wholeheartedly at him before continuing “since I can remember it was my mom’s duty.”
“So now, you’re expected to do it for the rest of your life?” he rose his sharp eyebrow at you.
“I mean yeah I guess, it's not that hard,”
“But if you had a boyfriend or husband you’d do it for just as your mom did it for your father?”
“I wouldn’t mind my future husband to do it from time to time,” you mumbled under your breath, not being sure why imagining a man kindly similar to the man in front of you.
Andy hummed in understanding before throwing you the already prepared pillows.
"When a man is capable of doing household chores, he is also fully capable of taking care of you in any situation you want him to," Andy stated before pushing the corners of the bed sheet into the rightful position on the mattress. 
“Take it as advice from a married man,” he grants you with a quick wink before finally moving away from your temporary bed.
Secondly. You wouldn't expect the sheets to smell a little musky and rather too expensive to be a laundry detergent from the grocery store down the street. 
The subtle yet overpowering scent that wasn't belonging to your best friend rooted into your brain but still, that didn't stop you from nuzzling into the comfortable fabric right after Mr. Andy left your bedroom a while later, before muttering: 
“Dinner will be probably ready in two hours or so, take your time settling in. My bedroom is down the hall across the bathroom, Jacob’s room first door from the staircase, you got it sweetheart?” and when you let out an almost visible nod he left you with a little praise. 
He called you a good girl.
It’s the delicious smell of food that manages to wake you up from your slumber. Abruptly pushing yourself up, making sure to correct the glasses that are falling from the bone of your nose to a straight position before glancing back at the screen and sighing in defeat at the lack of words you wrote for the past two days.  
You thought about pushing some of your assignments and finishing them earlier before you and Jacob focus on the main paper that takes the most of the year credit. Your stomach grumbled, demanding to be properly fed, making you wince at the emptiness you felt before actually deciding on closing the barely started document - maybe, a good portion of food and an even better night of full sleep made everything better. You still had time to turn it up, you just had to make the best of it first,
Gently closing the lid of her laptop and throwing the device onto the plush covers of your temporary bed, that seemed to cry out for you whenever you looked back at it. Seeing all the velvet sheets and fuzzy pillows scattered across the mattress that smelled almost heavenly...
Stumbling through the threshold of the living room, as the delicious aroma of freshly prepared food completely overthrown your senses and stomach grumbled in need again as you see the prepared and decorated kitchen table,
You'd rarely used to eat properly since the day you moved out of your house. It’s a nice sight to see when there are no left-over packages of pizza or overused glasses of alcohol from when your dad used to have a little too much on Friday nights. 
There are four pieces of dinnerware set on the table and you’re not even sure how Jacob's parents were in possession of such things since family dinner wasn’t a normal thing for them.
Scrunching your eyes at the scene in front of you as if the overly decorated table burned your eyes you stepped past it and towards the kitchen,
“Hope you don’t mind--” You hear the voice from the other side of the kitchen, looking into the direction from the voice of your roommate comes in you the half-part of your friend sticking out of the cabinet, still looking for something to prepare. “It’s spaghetti night.”
“Hmm, fancy.” you joke under your breath as Jacob's head extends from the hidden place to look at you. “where’s your mom I thought she was the head of kitchen space?” you responded before scooping some drained pasta from the bowl right beside the sink before the Chef noticed. 
Eyes wondering over the prepared food as the dark-haired boy moved to season his special version of tomato sauce,
“Stop picking,” he grumbled before taking a ragged breath in, “they've had a fight again, and now dad left somewhere I don’t know if he’s going to attend dinner.”
“Oh I'm sorry, I thought your parents... you know... I love your mom. They look like a happy family.” 
Jacob immediately snickered under his breath before pushing the wooden spoon mindlessly onto the counter. “Mom and dad are currently in separation, this whole family gathering was made for you so you’d think we’re a normal family.” 
Your stomach churned uncomfortably, and this time you weren't sure if it’s because you’re still hungry. 
“Jacob I’m so sorry--” you whispered quietly, thoughts neglecting you for your individual family issues or what was left from it, “If you want we can go back--fuck, I can drive back--”
Jacob's eyes narrowed curiously at something behind you before he shook his head and spoke again, “can you put it on the table?”
The intense clutter of feet makes your eyes twitch and you’re definitely trying to be on your best behavior and stay as quiet as it’s only possible as the loud ramble goes off in the corridor and right after the front door snap shut behind him and the voices go through every single corner of the spacious house, you know it’s already over for you. Because there he is - tall, with his figure a little bit more taken care of since the last time you’d seen him, looking a little bit more like a husband, with his hair styled in a way that suits him a little more than you’d expect as his head lacks those fuzzy curls you remembered so well from few houses before. 
He definitely took a shower, 
Pushing your bottom lip out quietly studying him from your place at the table,
With Jacob's mom immediately switching into the “host” mode, still trying to keep up the appearance of the perfect family, ushering Mr. Andy inside the living room, urging him to finally sit down at the table and devour delicious dinner.
He’s nice and polite, you note from the first minute of the genuine conversation with his wife? hold with him, as he seems to be listening to every word that leaves his lips and joking around with your best friend trying to ease on the nervous atmosphere because he knows it too - how tense the situation around the table changed. 
Does he know that Jacob told you everything?
“Mr. Barber” you acknowledged him when he finally took the place at the table, with a big smile on his face he took the place to sit right beside you – what are the fucking odds. You thought to yourself. dressed up nice, in a stripe button-up shirt, with a few top buttons free, as you notice the black jeans that seem to fit his figure incredibly well - too well for your liking.
That little smirk at the corners of his mouth makes your eyes twitch with annoyance in such an easy way to make you annoyed already. His green eyes are observing you and he's fully taking his time to run his eyes all over the top of your figure, noticing a fitting white top, that suddenly felt too tight on you.
Throughout dinner, he never backed down his look towards you, and the worst part of it, you could feel the burden and heat of his eyes against the profile of your face during the entire feast, completely losing the rest of your appetite not even halfway through the dinner, and now aimlessly played up with your fork and the pasta rolled up onto the cutlery before pushing it back against the plate.
Perching your head up with the help of your hand you listened to the excited conversation that was held against the table, only to let it out the second after through the other ear.
Mr. Andy pushed his legs to the side of his chair, his front coming towards your side as his long forearms dropped over the side of your chair. You're not sure if he did it on purpose but from time to time you could feel the pads of his fingers brushing through the baby hairs on your neck, the locks you had formed every time you skipped a hair day and just decided to keep them up to stop bothering you as you took your nap. And every time the knuckle of his hand touched something of yours the sudden shiver rushed through your body making you squirm in your seat and ultimately lost the last attempts of gaining back the courage to finish dinner,
Then, there’s a sudden and completely unexpected question making you completely freeze in your spot. “So, how're the studies going Y/N?”
You're immediately thrown out of your thoughts at the sound of Mrs. Barber's voice, then the sudden silence appeared and you knew everyone was listening and looking at you right now. Cringing to yourself in your mind, you perched yourself more comfortably on your chair, keeping in mind to keep your back straight and not lean against the back of it.
“Pretty good” your voice came out more croaky as you'd want to, gently couching down the bile formed in your throat, you pushed your plate out of the way, to reach for the half-empty glass of red wine.
Before taking a small sip, “lot's of assignments” you shrugged your shoulders yearning for the red nectar. You'd hope it's gonna help you find the sleep you need and new power for the morning to start finished the pointless papers for your professor.
“Y/N has been working day and night on her term papers, she wants to be on top of her class grade.”
From the side of your eye, you could see a movement on your right side before Mr.Barber leaned a little bit forward in his seat as if trying to do it “unintentionally” 
“So, you’re an ambitious girl huh?” The heat of his breath and the tone of his voice makes your posture stiffen like a new repaired spring, he murmured it in such a way as if he was talking to his lover right before going down to devour the last bits of her, his hand perched itself on the edge of your seat, gently gripping onto the white decorating pillows Mrs. Barber spends a fortune on because in her option they perfectly matched with the curtains in the living room, the heat of his hand that’s coming onto the side of your legs makes you instantly push it away in a jerking motion, away from the sudden and completely unexpected heat.
“You could say that” you whispered back to him, not even taking your mouth out of your wine glass, lips gently brushing over the bitter liquid when he openly laughed, his chest brushing against your sleeveless arm making you lean away from him but before that Andy innocently threw his arms across yours and shoved you against the heat of his chest trying to make it look as if both of you are just joking around like good old friends you’re definitely shouldn’t be.
He tuts under his breath, “I love to push your buttons, you're so easy to work up, It's almost funny.” before his fingers ghosted over the side of your collarbones as if he was taking in what's in front of him, taking his time to memorize every aspect of her with his eyes.
Biting your tongue to the point where it could bleed when Mrs. Barber looks at you with such a smile you’re not even sure what you’re supposed to do.
“What's wrong? You're not hungry?”
Oh, I am. But the dish I want was not offered in the menu.
“No, everything is fine I just have to use the bathroom really quick, if you excuse me.” You quickly stood up from your place, 
“Remember that you’re cleaning after dinner,” Jacob called out after you before he proposed another glass of wine for his mother awaiting glass.
“Jacob! Y/N is our guest, don’t treat--”
“It’s completely fine Mrs.Barber, it’s a tradition of ours” you waved her hand in the air before letting him know that you still remember their deal before you muster one last glance towards the dark-haired man, who’s still looking at you with a slight grin on his gorgeous face.
      Your fingers are tightly gripping onto the edges of white porcelain sink as the cold droplets of waters cover her skin in different directions you’re gazing at her reflection in the mirror, with a scowl because of how stupid you could he be to let him get under your skin already on the first night.
You hear the dinner is still lasting as its best as the sudden and happy cheers reflects through the exterior of the walls and you can’t help but feel your heart tings a little because you know how much you could give to spend time with your own father. You considered yourself a bad friend, Jacob was the opposite, the bubbly exterior of her friend sometimes coming off on her but she preferred a silent house, silent night in, with a bag of chips and glass of wine at her lap and maybe if the landlord of their apartment building would let them, she would have a cat by her side too.
The sudden knock at the wooden material of the door has your head spinning, you’re not sure if you want to talk with Jacob. You knew you promised to be on your best behavior but knowing that Andy is constantly playing with you just for his humor is making your blood boil – you’re letting him do this all because of how off guard he caught you.
“It's taken” you called out grumpily, pushing the material of the towel against your face to rains it from the water but the knocking didn't stop there.
“What the fuck?” you grumbled again, irritation coming out of you in waves, “do you seriously can't hold it for two more minutes?” you tugged at the door handle with such a force and swing the doors open only to see someone you least expected.
“Do you mind?” you asked sarcastically, noticing the hold he still had on the white exterior, his palm was big, she took notice about his fingers, wide and they probably hold a lot of power in them.
Not that you cared.
“Laurie told Jacob to check up on you since you're taking so long--” he aimlessly told her, standing in the exterior of the room completely blocking the lights from the corridor
“How nice of you,” you mustered with a sweet fake smile to form on your lips, noticing how much he hated when you did that, his jaw immediately ticked, with a vein coming out at the side of his throat and his teeth tensed together.
“Stop being such a brat.”
You shockingly rose your eyebrows at him. “Excuse me? Repeat that?” You dared.
Andy chuckled under his breath, fingers pushing against the door to open them even wider before he moved his feet a little forward coming into the room with you, his eyes narrowing and face coming dangerously close.
The dark dimension of his green eyes made your stomach churn with something you couldn’t even name. This guy was making you so confused.
“You heard me.” he grumbled, voice low and gratingly with something else, “you're acting like a fucking brat.” he spats out the last words as her back got shoved against the bathroom wall, right beside the towel cabinet.
Your mouth opened in shock.
“How dare you run your mouth on me,” you growled out, fingers coming to tip onto his chest, aimlessly pointing at the bare skin. “your wife and son are downstairs and you already have the audacity to---”
Andy shook his head, fingers shifting onto her forearms to turn her back flat against the wall before taking a step ahead, his chest completely flush against yours as your breathing quickened due to his proximity. “Shut up--” he ordered and to her surprise you instantly did.
He immediately picked her behavior up, “Hmm-” his nose skimmed the side of her jaw and she could swear her toes curled when his cologne overwhelmed her senses. “just as I've said. Good girl.”
You could swear to God, your heartbeat was about to rip out of your chest, and it was almost embarrassing. You were sure Andy could hear it beating due to how close she was.
Your mouth opened in a sudden urge to let out a puff of air when his tongue skimmed out of his lips to taste the sweetness of your skin. The gentleness and skill he operated with had your brain turning into mush, 
“M' sorry.” he whispered into the hollow of your neck, taking a deep breath of you  “couldn't help myself with you.” and then his tongue runs against the stripe of your throat towards your jaw, and you could swear that your legs are giving out under the weight of them.
“Oh my god--” you’re almost squealing to yourself when the rough palms of his hands push against her shoulder blades you’re able to feel every part of him on yourself, or maybe every part of you on him, it's like you got turned into one. The hotness that’s building inside and in every place his hands keep touching.
“Mr.Barber--- what are you--” and then you’re gasping, as his teeth grasp onto the edge of your lips pulling the flesh back only to completely get lost into the feeling of the plump sweetness of your taste. You let him in, eagerly waiting for his tongue to battle with yours in soft dominance, as his hands wander over her whole. They knead every flesh on his way, he's taking everything you have in offer for him. igniting inside of her the fire she never knew she possessed.
“It’s Andy, doll.”
Breathless – both of you – as he lets you take a time to breathe, fingers skimming along the side of your calloused cheekbones,pads of his fingers tracing the reddened skin of your lips and he can't help but smile when he observes your chest moving in need for air and eyes wild and ready for everything.
“Please.” neither of you were expecting the word to come out your mouth, it shocks you but it's there, let out into the silence of the bathroom. You don't want to take it but and you damn hope he won't turn away from you.
“What my doll wants, hmm?” Andy muttered under his nose, you had to take a second to rethink what he said was even real and it wasn't a figment of your imagination, “you want daddy to touch you? You’re going to be my good girl?” he cooed calmly, before letting his hands drop from your body, leaving you cold and needy.
What?
He's sending you one last look, his mouth quirks in humor when he notices how displeased and angry you can be in a second. Before he turns away from you and heads right towards the door.
You act before you think, and there’s something inside of you that is screaming at you by doing such a thing but your hands grip his massive arm in panic, tugging him back to face you again. His eyebrows rising in silent question before you take courage to mutter
“Please.” you’re whining like a lost puppy, gently carding his hand in yours and tugging him back to your previous position. As your eyes continue to shine with need.
Andy’s furrows his brows for a moment, head-turning, and if you didn't know him before that way, you’d say he looks like a damn cute, confused puppy. “You want daddy’s fingers?”
Biting the corner of your lips your not even sure if you’re able to say it out loud, You love how rough he looks now, giving you a different side of his physique you never gets a chance to see before. You’re wriggling under his stare, not feeling comfortable at all. The silver wedding band on his fingers is tempting you, you can’t help but imagine how would it feel inside of you, how the whole idea of getting a married man to touch you entice you.
A few hours ago you absolutely treated him like your best friend's father and now you’re willing to push even further? Were you ready to look at him from a different angle? Are you ready to risk years of friendship over a married man?
You swallowed quietly as Andy still looked at you expecting the answer, his knuckles gently grazing over the naked skin on her arm, turning it downwards to til he touched outside of her wrists making her brain turn into a mush.
“You know what---fuck you,” you grumbled annoyed, finally coming back into your senses but that's not what Andy was expecting. You hurried away from him, making sure to keep a distance in between both of you before looking him straight in the eyes, a silent challenge for him to take. “don't you ever touch me again,” you scowled before pushing a finger into his direction, trying to threaten him enough
He pushed the air out of his lungs painfully slow, too slow for her liking because you had a feeling something was building inside that he was about to let out on her. “You were doing so good--” he muttered to himself, shaking his head and turning his back to you and marching towards the door, and when you thought he's about to leave you observed the way his palm pushed against them making sure they're closed before his fingers cleverly turned the lock closed with a sudden click
Your stomach immediately churned in excitement you didn't even know you should feel the moment he leaned his broad shoulders against them. Crossing his large arms across his chest he spends a good second just observing you from when he stood.
“Acting like the brat you are,” he clicked his tongue at you, and arrogant behavior coming out immediately, he acted like a boy whenever he didn't get what he wanted, and you got the first example of it. “since the first minute you-” he shook his head as if his memories of their unsuccessful first meeting flowed his memory
“Maybe you should make up your fucking mind--” you then threw your hands up annoyingly, “calling me a good girl only to change it to brat the second later. Is that some kind of kink of yours?”
Andy chuckled under his breath, his eyes squinting in hidden adoration for you before his entire posture changed immediately.
“Better watch your fucking mouth,” he hissed at her, “because I'm sure you won't like the consequences.”
You narrow your eyes at him subconsciously screaming at yourself to bit onto your tongue before speaking but it’s too late, your change of posture challenges him, you see it in the way he curses under his breath before all you see is him charging upon you.
Fingers digging into your jeans, as you gasp in shock the second you feel your jeans loosening on your body, the stoic expression of the man in front of you is enough for you to fumble with your tongue, knowing in the back of your mind the apology words you know but it’s too late. Thick digit, you feel it coming down the front of your pants, marching through the material of your panties without not even a fumble, you feel his skin on your skin playing with your fold and you swear your knees are giving up on you the second he finds his right place in between your legs - you look down on him, mouth opened in shock by the sudden situation, his entire fist pulled down inside your pants making it as his job to destroy you.
“Oh my Go--” you squeal as a warm finger push into the right place between your folds, sliding in without harm as you close your eyes in embarrassment at how wet you are for him.
Andy’s breath palms upon your face, he’s thrusting his body onto yours gently muttering sweet sugar-coated praises toward you but all you can hear is the blood that finally reaches your ears. 
“Please don’t make me come for the first time in your wife’s bathroom” you whine through the pleasure that’s completely taking over your senses. You’d still plead to him, hands grabbing onto the one that’s been working on your pussy with such a precision you feel like crumbling out into a creme in his home bathroom. While he supports his entire body weight on the tiles behind your curled up from bliss body.
Andy just chuckles into your hair, granting you with a quick kiss to your sweaty forehead before circling his finger harder onto your clit, just as a loud moan escapes your lips. Andy tugs his fingers out of your pussy, your entire body is tingling, stomach churned into much when he holds your entire weight before you can tumble to the ground.
And then within a blink of her eyes, he sends her one last look as if saying “it's not over” and turns around again catching a glance over the worked up muscles on his back moving with every step of his silhouette when he yanks the door open and marches down the corridor as if nothing had happened.
It takes you some time to understand what's happening, as the place falls into complete tranquility but the sparkles in the air, are telling you that nothing you’d seen and heard tonight was imagined – even when you really want to believe it.
Hearing the pad of his heavy feet stops against the wooden floor before his voice tells and assure your best friend and his wife that everything is alright with you.
But was it? Now when you think about it, that you have to spend the rest of the weekend break with the guy who’s your best friend's father who just fingered you for a few minutes with you in his own bathroom.
And it was only beginning.
The wrong never felt so right.
an2: send me a lil’ message what u think of this < 3
Jacob, after finding out his best friend is fucking his father: 
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mythiccheroacademia · 4 years
Note
Hey!! Could we please get more sugar daddy fics with a black reader ofc 😋 idk if you've done shoto already but that'd be nice or hawks and deku💕
A/N: “wrist on glitter, waist on thinner, imma show you how to bag a eight-figure nigga” 👅💋 I enjoyed this way too much
All characters are 18+
Warnings: it got a lil spicy so imma put the line 
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Todoroki Shouto:
this mf has money to burn 
we all know todoroki came out the womb w cash from his hair to his ass 
he’s on some “yes, jeff bezos knows me” type shit so if you’re tryna end up with someone that’s gonna possibly buy you a house, he’s your guy 
he slid into your dms after you posted a pic with your skin moisturized and glistening under golden hour and your body had him wanting to run laps 
he had been plottin on you for a min but never got the motivation to do something about it until then
he’s a no strings attached type of sugar daddy
todoroki is a big name even outside of hero work and he’s well aware of all the people that have tried to use him. so instead of letting that happen, he’s decided to do things on his own terms 
when yall first started talking, he questioned you like this was managerial position at apple 💀 
best believe he ran an in-depth background check and made you sign an NDA 💀💀💀
he was a tough one
but you passed w flying colors and y’all settled on an arrangement
you have a weekly allowance that hits your bank account every saturday with some bonuses that he’ll give you depending on how the week goes
todoroki isnt needy nor is he one to be all up in your business 
it’s actually weird in an endearing kind of way? 
he only wants to have conversations with you 
i mean, dont get me wrong, he’s up for anything you are
todoroki would be a liar if he said he never ended some nights with a picture of you and a hand down his pants 
but that’s not what he’s mainly looking for 
you figure out very quickly that shouto just wants someone to talk to 
he’ll randomly hit up your phone and have a 30 min convo about something like the weather or hero politics, and then he’ll dip
next thing you know, you got $1000 in your cashapp
you kind of panicked bc like...wtf? 
your dumb ass messaged him: “did you mean to send $1000?”
sis, dont put a question mark where God put a period
him: “Yes.”
and that was the end of that
you dont question anymore
he’s not doting in any kind of way, and sometimes you lowkey think he forgets about you, but you still get your allowance 
doesn’t send a lot of gifts unless you explicitly state you want something
he doesnt text back a lot, but he tried to respond when he can
but i do see him liking it when you send him mundane things you do throughout your day, like pics of cookies you baked, or a cool plant you saw at home depot
and he enjoys the times you and him end up just trashing his father for nearly an hour. expect to find flowers, with some expensive ass coats or something at your door the next morning 
he really fucks w your laid back vibe 
sometimes he forgets you guys arent really supposed to be friends 
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Takami Kiego (Hawks):
this is not hawks’ first time being a sugar daddy
he’s hot, rich, and one of the most eligible bachelor’s in japan with a life that prevents him from having anything too serious
so, long story short, he’s a veteran at this 
he used to be the type to reach out to instagram baddies but he had a couple bad run-ins and decided to stick with the official sites because it was a lot more secure on both ends 
the funny thing was, you set up your account a long time ago as a joke. though at one point, you did take it seriously, but you came in contact with a lot of super creepy men that sexualized you for your skin and ethnicity. 
you were tired of the “chocolate king/queen” and “amazonian god/dess” comments,so you took a break. you didnt have much activity since
so imagine youre surprise when the #2 hero hit your line talking about some 
“Hey~ I’ll get straight to the point. I think you’re beautiful and I’d like to talk with you about an arrangement” 
you thought this was a fake account, but after he chatting for a little and sending some pictures, you knew he was the real deal 
hawks is your standard tit-for-tat transaction sugar daddy
he’s the type to hit you up at night with a “how ya doing, dove? got any pics for me?”
he’s good about his respect ad won’t do anything out of line
it’s the bare minimum, be he doesnt fetishize you so that’s always nice 
however, he does make you call him daddy, sir, etc. whether it’s through text, call, or when y’all get together for...reasons
ngl his dicc game is fire
he might ghost you for a week or so but he’ll always come back with a nice check to make up for it 
just be careful about catching feelings bc he’s so fucking smooth. he makes you feel like you’ve got his heart, but dont fall for that shit
if you think you can “change him” or fuflfil whatever wattpad romance fantasy lives in your head, he is not your guy. you better get on w your life before you get your heart broken
he’s here to suck, fuck, send pics, do a little phone call here n there, send some money, and go 
if you’re not with all that, you might as well dip 
but if you’re cool with that, rest assured, you’re gonna be living your best mf life with this man in your wallet 
and good news, you might not be his only, but you are his favorite
there’s just something about you that’s got him giving you a few extra thousand than he normally does 
he doesnt take his sugar babies on proper dates bc he’s gotta stay away from media outlets, but he will invite you to his office for a “lunch break”
if you ever surprise him with a cute but sexy hawks cosplay, you won’t have to work for two whole weeks bc you cant walk  
overall, he’s a good sugar daddy. defintely good for your pockets and any other non-romantic desires you want fulfilled
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Mirodirya Izuku:  
the way you two met and came to this arrangement was more or less an accident
the life of the number one pro-hero was lonely and stressful 
he’s tried to dip his toes in the water here and there, but it never worked out because not many people could deal with the fact that he’d always put hero work first
he was teetering on the edge of signing up for one of those sugar daddy/baby websites until he met you at some cafe he passed by 
it’s cliche really. you were his server and, honestly? he was hooked on day one 
he watched you intently as you pranced around in your cute uniform. he couldnt stop admiring your brown skin and eyes and how cute your hair was. you spoke with such enthusiasm and cheerfulness that he couldnt help but swoon. and it didn’t hurt that you were very easy on the eyes
he listened to you as you went on a spiel about how college was a fortune and how you stayed up last night for a project bc you had to pick up extra shifts
that’s when he made his decision
by the time the hero is out of the door, you collected the reciept and almost fainted when you realized he left you a $500 tip and his personal number 
“i enjoyed talking to you today and i hope we can continue that...here’s something small to help with your bills. and i hope this isnt too forward but you’re very beautiful. stay safe. deku.”
and what did you do that night?
you called his ass right back
you were nervous as hell bc you still couldnt believe this was real, but after talking on the phone with him for two hours, an arrangement was set
midoriya is the most gentlemen like sugar daddy out there 
you wake up to good morning texts and a few hundred in your bank account almost every two days 
he goes crazy over your insta posts. and if you wear something green? expect a bonus
takes you out shopping unprovoked 
izuku: “are you busy? i saw you were having a rough week and was wondering if you wanted to go to that new outlet mall downtown”
you: 🏃🏾‍♀️💨  
you most certainly had homework due that night but what tf you look like missing out on that offer? 
it’s after so many “dates” that deku realizes that he prefers hanging around you more than he should but he doesnt wanna ruin anything so he keeps that underwraps 
he’s the idiot that goes into this thinking he won’t fall in love
deku defintely has some dirty thoughts about you but he doesnt try to bring it up unless you do first
if you’re comfortable with anything nsfw, you gone see a whole different side to izuku
he’s a giver, giver, giver, but when he recieves, he just about loses it
send him “innocent” pics of yourself matched with a string of filthy texts and he’ll combust 
when you send him pics of yourself in deku-themed lingre, he deadass sends you a whole black card with your name on it as a thank you
you guys get very comfortable with each other very quickly
soon enough, DA’s start turning into y/n stayng over for a week 
you both realize this relatiosnhip runs a lot deeper than an arrangement when he accidentally let it slip that he told his mom about you 
he’s profusely apologizing but you shut him up with a kiss and tell him that you’ve kinda caught feelings yourself 
your next conversation works out well for the both of you 
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