#in fact i may be the only person in the world who doesn’t always look good in black | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hansensgirl · 2 years

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💭 — 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐌𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐰𝐧

summary. — for so long, he’s wanted to hold you down and tell you that he loves you.

pairing. — Dark!Stepdad!Andy Barber x innocent!fem!reader.

warnings. — DUBCON, stepcest, large age gap (andy is 51, reader is early 20s), coercion, lying, manipulation, gaslighting, grooming, taking advantage, perversion, possessiveness, obsession, isolation, loner reader, innocence kink, corruption kink, smoking, smut, Daddy kink, fingering, mentions of oral (both receiving), overstimulation, degradation, praise, blowing smoke in face, missionary, cowgirl, mentions of male masturbation, size kink (andy’s cock is huge), pet names (little girl, little one, baby, sweetie, sweet girl), creampie kink, reader is extremely innocent, inaccurate explanations of sex, virginity loss, spanking, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

word count. — 9k

author’s note. — here’s the continuation of my step dad!andy concept that i posted in may. this is before, during, and after the concept. i copy and pasted some of the concept and inserted it here! everything is legal. andy married the reader’s mom when the reader was 18, and he formed feelings for the reader then. MINORS DNI! 18+ ONLY! @hansensfics

Andy sighs deeply as he sits in his room, bones aching immensely. He’s been standing by the window, behind the sheer white curtains for far too long. Fifty-one years of turmoil have caught up to him, but thankfully, it doesn’t show as much as it should.

He feels your discomfort as much as he does his stiffness. The awkward angle he’s been stuck in is a reflection of your personality. You never socialise like you should, and when you’re forced to, it’s all wrong.

Andy hates seeing you out of your element. The sight of you sitting on a white lounge chair in a dress you clearly don’t like is painful for him. He knows you prefer his company—that’s why he’s always offering it.

Today, he planned on showing you his notes from court on a case about a man assaulting his neighbour with a wrench.

It’s almost as if said wrench was thrown into his plans, because now he has to watch you try to keep up with the brain-rotting chatter of unruly college girls.

Your mother had organised the day with her fellow neighbours who incessantly brought up how lonely you are at the community barbecues. Andy remembers that day very well—he caught you crying out of frustration when you didn’t want to go.

Endlessly, he’s had to tell your mother to let up and leave you alone. Andy understands how you are all too well. Lonely, but content. You never connected with anyone growing up and stuck to your devices—books that are either overrated classics or underrated masterpieces.

It was no surprise that you were immediately drawn to the twice exiled, unlucky man. Like a moth to the flame, you looked at him with such wonder and stuck yourself to him, yet still remained far.

Your close connection was only formed when he found you in a pile of tissues and drowning in your own tears. Seconds away from hyperventilating, he pulled you back into the ocean everyone calls reality. To this day, however, he still isn’t sure why you were in such a state.

The laughter he hears is either fake or simply aggravating. He can’t find yours in that mess, though, and he tries to come up with a reason to take you away.

Andy is your stepfather—he can say anything he wants. Chores haven’t been done yet, your mom’s calling you, we have somewhere to be—I want you all to myself.

But it feels wrong—feels fake. He strives for authenticity after years of ingenuity. Before, he’d patched the cracks in the facade of his forced suburban life before anyone else could see them. Now, he embraces the breakage. In fact, there is none, because there is no farce.

From the low level of the bed, Andy unfortunately cannot see you. Even though your company is the sun, you remain in a white dress. It’s the face of ingenues all around the world. You shield yourself from the scorching sun, the brightness making your eyes ache.

The idea of making some lemonade (for you and only you) crosses your stepfather’s mind, and he decides to do it.

“Oh my gosh—So, basically, Elijah and I’s anniversary is coming up! Apparently, he wants us to go to Vegas, which I’m so down for. I’m not sure what to get him, though,” a woman in her early twenties, like you, nearly squeals. Her excitement makes you smile. “He’s not a fan of jewellery, so anything like that is out of the question…”

Her name is easy to remember, and very pretty as well. Gianna, and she’s an interior design major.

A snort is heard from the chair over—Kennedy, who finds humour in anything and is the nicest to you. “Sex, sex, sex! Dude, that’s the easiest thing ever. Just indulge in whatever fantasy he’s got. Maid, landlord, plumber—”

“—Ha! Let him do anal, GiGi. Get a sparkly plug, some decent lube, and spread those cheeks,” the other friend, Imogen, giggles. She claps at the end of her sentence, and the three women laugh for a few seconds.

“...We’ve already done anal. For his 25th…” The sheepish admission from Gianna makes her friends hoot and holler. You’re not sure what to say—you don’t understand.

“Is there anything you haven’t done?” Imogen questions in shock. “Listen, y’know that frat guy that keeps hitting on me? Well, I gave him a chance and we were, y’know, getting it on,” she eagerly spills.

“Getting it on? Just say you guys were raw-dogging and spitting in each other's mouths,” Kennedy interrupts, sipping on a fruity drink. Honestly, they’re all sweet. They keep trying to rope you into their conversations, but you’re not sure what to say, so you stick to little hums and gestures.

“Shush!—Anyway, we were fucking, and he started to talk a lot. And it was so hot, like he was saying the hottest shit ever. He checked every single kink-box!” Imogen brags, and the others are proud of her. “Like what?” Kennedy prompts, curious to the point where her eyebrows raise.

“Breeding, degrading, praising—even a Daddy thrown in every now and then,” she whisper-shouts. “And, get this, he made me squirt!”

The women continue trading stories about their debauched experiences, and you feel as if they’re speaking another language. You’re not sure what they mean or why the things happened. Questions fill your brain as you purse your lips, trying to give yourself the answers.

“—Uhm, I can take that in for you. I think I forgot to cancel this appointment and they keep you on hold for a while during the afternoon,” you lie, standing up and grabbing Gianna’s empty cup. “Oh, you’re so sweet. You’ll be back soon, right? We wanna get to know you better,” Kennedy says, and her girlfriends nod their heads.

You join them in their motions, before jogging to the sliding door and slipping past it. You place the cup in the sink, and then make a beeline for your room. It’s the space you spend too much time in, to the point that your stepdad has had to coax you out of it on numerous occasions.

The ceiling is at an angle due to the triangular roof of your home. The decorations might not match but they add a cosy feeling that is reminiscent of autumn. You wish the season could remain all year round.

There is even a window seat. Andy had it built and installed for you last year on Christmas. It was a dream come true—something you’d always wanted.

You plop yourself onto the space and pull your laptop over. You turn off SafeSearch and look up the things the women were talking about. Videos with dirty thumbnails pop up, along with articles and a warning about the setting you turned off. You’re too scared to click on the videos, so you stick to reading the articles.

But the words don’t translate well in your mind. You feel like you’re the last person in line in a long game of broken telephone. You’re left with more questions than answers, and so you snap your laptop shut.

Gnawing your lip, you let your curiosity eat away at you. It nags and it nags until you can’t take it anymore. So you wander down the hallway and stand outside the slightly ajar door to your stepdad’s room.

“D– Daddy? Are you busy?” you shyly question, standing with your hands clasped behind your back. At the sweet sound of your voice, Andy immediately rushes from his place in front of the sink. His hands smell of your lotion—a bottle he stole from you because he couldn't help it. “No, not at all, little one. What’s wrong?”

The older man opens the door even more for you, ushering you inside. You sit on the end of the bed, and he joins you. Your palms grow sweaty as nervousness takes you over. Bite the bullet, it won’t hurt you.

“Uhm…” you start, “I have some, uh, questions.”

“Hit me. I have some answers,” Andy jokes.

“Okay…” you unfold the sticky note of the things you wanted to know more about—the things your friends were talking about. “What’s a– anal? Like, the bad one,” you ask, whispering and worried.

Your innocence is like a drug that Andy has tasted for the first time and it has kicked in quickly. He swallows thickly and he wonders why you’re asking.

“Well… There’s numerous ways to have sex… With penetrative sex, you can penetrate any of your holes. And, you see, you have three holes. Your mouth, a– and your private parts. Anal sex is when someone penetrates your butt, essentially,” he explains, not sure what words to use.

He watches as your face twists in confusion. “What do you mean? They can do that to any of your holes? Like, they put something inside?” you press, voice incredulous and shocked. “Yeah, they put something in, and they move it back and forth. There are things meant to go there, though,” Andy tells you.

Clearly, you still don’t really get it. It’s neither your fault nor Andy’s.

“I– I have more.. S’that okay?” Andy immediately nods his head, looking down to try and look at your list.

“Squirting… Can you explain that one? Please? And why do people like calling other people mean things? And getting called those? I mean, I get why someone likes it when someone else says nice things—but the mean one, I don’t understand. And why do people like using the word Daddy? I thought that’s for certain people…” you ramble, pulling at the yellow paper until it slips.

“Shh… One at a time, baby. Squirting is something that happens during sex. It’s a kind of ejaculate. And with the mean names, it’s just what people like. It makes them all happy, y’know? All tingly on the inside—like when they get praised,” he says, cock fully hard and face flushed.

“Yeah, but, what’s sex? Oh! I get those tingles a lot… But not in my tummy…” you sheepishly admit, and it piques Andy’s interest. But then, he replays what you said. What’s sex? A question that normal people would laugh at—but Andy is anything but that. “...You don’t know what sex is, baby?”

You let out a whimper—something of frustration and fear and insecurity. It makes his cock throb within the confines of his pants. “...Nuh-uh,” you sigh, ready to dart and lock yourself in your room.

“Oh, that’s alright, baby. Don’t worry. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, okay? Daddy’ll explain it all to you—I’ll be your teacher,” he smiles, but then frowns when you shake your head. “B– But I don't understand any of it! Not when you explain it, and not when I read about it. It’s all so confusing and doesn’t make one bit of sense.”

Annoyance with yourself seeps from your words, and Andy detects the leak. He’s quick to patch it up, though.

“No, baby! Daddy’s gonna teach you it in an easy way! Remember how you didn’t know what acquittal meant? And I told you the definition? Now you tell other people what it means when they don’t know!”

Andy chooses to ignore the fact that it was only your mother who didn’t know what it meant.

“But that’s different! Even if you explain it simply, my brain just won’t grasp the concept,” you try to reason, so desperate to learn about the things that other women your age are so well-versed in. “Can you show me it, Daddy? Please?”

Your stepfather nearly asks you to repeat yourself. Your request is innocent and full of desperation—you want to be in on the joke that everyone seems to know. His cock has chubbed up inside his boxers, begging for a release and even crying tears of pre-cum.

“You want Daddy to show you those dirty little things, hm? C’mere, baby. Daddy’ll tell you all about it,” Andy encourages, motioning with his hands for you to move closer to him. You scoot your body until your right leg touches his left. “You’re gonna be a good girl and do whatever I say, right?”

When you nod your head, the older man wonders if he’s won the jackpot. Luck is on his side, clearly. After years of struggle, he’s finally got a good thing. And he’s going to take full advantage of it—he’s going to cherish the treasure he’s been bestowed with.

“Good girl—” Andy cuts himself off with a groan as you preen under the praise, “—so good for Daddy.”

Your stepdad slowly leans in and presses his mouth against yours. The kiss is searing and passionate, but it soon turns rough and possessive. You try to keep up with Andy as he claims your mouth—biting, licking, and sucking at your supple, wet skin.

He tastes of beer and cigarettes, and the smacking of lips grows wetter and sloppier. You let him take control and try to replicate some of his movements as he pushes his tongue into your mouth. Andy holds the sides of your head with two large, strong hands.

But his touch is gentle and encouraging. You let the older man do whatever he wants to do, sure that you can ask him for another tutorial later on. Eventually, he pulls away with swollen, red lips and blown out eyes.

The pale blue (with a tinge of green) has disappeared. Like black paint spilled, darkness is all you can see.

“You’ve got such a cute little mouth, baby. Think I can fit my cock in there, all nice and snug,” he murmurs, more to himself than you. You’re not sure what he means, but you go along with it and nod your head. Your eagerness is almost unreal—maybe because Andy has fantasised about it for so long.

Moments with his hand wrapped around his large, leaking cock after you said or did something his perverted mind twisted and misconstrued. Showers longer than they should be, and boxers gone in the wash sooner than they would.

“But don’t worry your pretty head with that just yet, little one,” Andy tells you, standing up and in front of you. He gently pushes you back on the bed, and you land with a small thump. Be brings your feet to rest against the edge of the mattress, caressing your skin with his rough, warm hands. “So soft…”

The lawyer brings your left leg up, and meets it halfway. He presses open-mouthed kisses on your moisturised skin, taking in your scent. Eventually the romantic feeling turns ticklish, and you giggle and try to writhe out of Andy’s grip.

Though, there’s a warm feeling that blooms in your cunt. You folds ache, but you’re not sure why. It’s like the tingles you seem to get every now and then, especially when you’re around the older man.

“Daddy… I feel funny,” you tell him, and Andy halts his movements.

“What do you mean, little girl? C’mon, tell Daddy,” he urges, genuinely curious. Is it fear? Excitement? Or something more physical?

“Tingly… And warm… And it kinda hurts—but not in a painful way…” you try to explain.

“Where, baby? Show me where,” your stepfather demands. His eyebrows are mildly knitted in a bit of concern—curiosity. “D– Down there,” you whisper, looking away from his intense gaze.

A broad hand that belongs to Andy makes a bold move. It moves to your mound, and pushes at your pussy. “Here, baby?” he nearly growls, feeling your warmth and folds through the two layers of fabric that protect you from this ravenous man.

His fingers dig into your skin and find the bump of your clit, pushing on the nub and watch as you moan softly from the unfamiliar yet pleasurable sensation. “Uh-huh, right there, Daddy,” you mewl, subconsciously bucking your hips upwards.

The feeling is reminiscent of the kind you feel when you press your thighs together—just amped up by a few hundred volts. “Well, Daddy’s gonna make you feel better, okay, little one? This happens sometimes, and from now on, you gotta tell me whenever you feel those tingles. Understood?” Andy orders, and you shyly nod.

“Words. Use your words, little girl. I need to hear it.”

“Y– Yes, Daddy. I– I’ll tell you when I feel tingly—P– Promise.”

“Good girl.” Andy’s hands move to the waistband of your white skirt, and he pulls it down. Your panties go along with it, strings of wetness pulling and breaking when he gets too far. Your pussy glistens in the cracks of sunlight, his white curtains a blessing for once. “Such a gorgeous fuckin’ cunt.”

You bring your hand up to your face and shy away behind it, making Andy coo at you. He throws your bottoms behind him and pulls you a bit closer by your legs. He then looks up at you, pink tongue slowly darting out just a peek.

Three of Andy’s digits move upwards. He gives them one long, slow lick, soaking them in spit. “Gotta open your legs wide, little girl. Can you do that for me, baby?” he requests, and you immediately nod your head.

For your stepdad, you open your legs as wide as they can go without hurting. Anything he asks, you’ll do.

“Good girl,” he hums, and he brings his dominant, wet hand to your sopping cunt. Your stepdad tests the waters for a moment, swirling your slick around and caressing your swollen, achy folds. You gasp at the sensation as his large hand covers practically everything. From your clit down to your creamy fuckhole. “Feels good already, doesn’t it?”

You nod your head, and Andy smiles at you. “It’s gonna feel even better soon, little one. ‘M gonna get my cock in that little honeypot’a yours—fuck it nicely and ruin you for other men.” As he speaks, Andy maintains a trained gaze on you. “But you won’t have other men, will you?”

“You only want your stepdaddy, huh? Daddy’s girl—All mine,” Andy murmurs. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, gently biting down. “I gotta stretch you out first,” he tells you.

Andy pushes his pointer finger in first, and groans as your walls welcome it immediately. He lets the digit slip into you entirely, until it’s buried to the hilt. “You’re doin’ so good for me, little girl,” the older man smiles at you.

Slowly, he begins to thrust in and out of your channel. His finger glistens with your creamy slick, and Andy curses. Once he believes you’ve adjusted to the first digit well enough, he pulls it out and prods two.

“How was that, baby?” he questions, but you’re too breathless and at a loss for words to say anything. You give him a simple thumbs up, hoping it’ll suffice. “Use your words, little one,” Andy urges, and you whimper out a simple ‘was g– good’ for him.

“You’re soaking, y’know that? Makin’ a mess all over my hand,” he notes aloud. “So innocent but so needy… You make such a perfect whore for Daddy.”

Andy thrusts two digits into your drooling hole, and he fingers you with that same slow pace. Every now and then, he makes scissoring motions meant to open you up even more. “Daddy… ‘s so much now. Feels even more tingly,” you tell him, looking at your stepdad for reassurance.

“That’s how it’s supposed to be, baby. Feels good, doesn’t it?” he prompts, and you hesitantly nod your head. Andy is right—it feels so good. It’s like the fluttery feeling you tend to get, the one you felt just a few moments before, but it’s not nagging and it’s better in comparison. “Yeah, that’s it. Take Daddy’s fingers, slut.”

Your stepfather knows he shouldn’t be saying these demeaning things to you—shouldn’t be ruining you—but he can’t help it.

It’s almost hypnotising with the way your cunt sucks Andy’s fingers in as he penetrates your tightness again. And the way you cling onto him as he pulls them in and out of you is downright pornographic—just like the sounds you’re making.

“Bet you never even got this far, little one. All you ever did was rub this li’l cunny on whatever you could find, hm?” He wonders out loud. “Poor pussy’s been neglected. S’okay, Daddy’s here, baby,” Andy whispers, and he picks up the pace of his hand.

He finds that rough, spongy spot inside you. It makes you toss your head back and squeeze your eyes shut, limbs trembling. “D– Daddy!” you cry out, confused yet welcoming his touches. “Shh, it’s okay, baby,” Andy soothes, stroking your sweet spot with his fingers.

Purposefully, he neglects your clit. He knows it’s pulsating—aching to be touched by your stepfather. Your volume raises just a bit, and his cock throbs with every other noise. Your pretty face has formed a frown of pleasure, and Andy thinks to himself he can really get used to this.

“W– Wait. Feels like I needa go to the bathroom…” you shamefully admit, and this time, Andy really chuckles. “You’re so cute and innocent, little one. Gonna give Daddy a cavity with how sweet you are,” he says, picking up the pace of his fingers. He makes sure to keep stretching you out, though.

“Feels like it’s burning and building, huh? That’s normal, baby. Don’t worry. Just take one more finger for me, okay?” Andy skillfully brings you closer and closer to your release. The wet, lewd sounds of your cunt grow louder. “You’re fucking soaking. S’that all for me?” your stepfather asks.

You don’t really know what he means, but you chose to nod your head. At your answer, Andy decides to push a third digit into your cunt. The fit is strugglesome—tight, warm, and snug. You can barely handle his thick fingers, pussy struggling to adjust to them at first. He can’t wait to get his cock inside you.

“H– Hurts, Daddy,” you whine, the stretch uncomfortable. Andy shushes you gently, whispering praises until the pain dulls away and all you can feel is fullness and pleasure. “You’re drippin’ everywhere, little girl. I can’t wait to get a taste of that sweet pussy,” he murmurs, and he continues to attack your g-spot.

Your cries grow louder and more high-pitched, and Andy knows you’re close. The older man grunts, “That’s it, good girl. C’mon, give Daddy your cream, baby.” Your body goes from thrashing just a tiny bit to seizing when your orgasm hits.

It takes you by storm. Your eyes squeeze shut and you sob, cunt clamping down on his hand. “Atta girl. Goin’ all dumb for Daddy—that’s what I like to see, little one.” Andy fingerfucks you through your climax, admiring the creaminess that coats his skin. He’s sure some has dripped down to your rosebud, and that makes him so hard.

“Oh– Oh my gosh,” you pant, tears stinging your eyes from the stimulation. “See what I just did, baby?” Andy questions.

“Uh-huh.” He looks at you, carefully examining the fucked-out look you have on your pretty face.

“Only Daddy gets to do that to you, little girl. No one else. Understood? You belong to me.”

Obediently, you nod your head. “Uh-huh. All yours, Daddy.”

Your words have his cock twitching underneath the confines of his pants. Andy slowly pulls his fingers out of your wet channel, consoling you when you whine from the sudden emptiness. Your fuckhole gapes just a bit, and it makes your stepdad eager to get his cock out.

“Damn right, little one,” he grunts, unbuckling his belt and pulling his thick cock out. “See this, baby? It’s Daddy’s cock, and it’s the only one you’re ever gonna go near. Y’know, your pussy was made for it,” he hums, stroking himself from the thick base to the leaky, bulbous head.

Your mouth parts in interest. Whatever he says and does soaks right into that empty mind of yours.

Andy pulls you up to the bed with his other hand, strength coming in handy. He puts your head on his pillow and then crawls between your legs, making you part them wide once again. He hovers above you, and you involuntarily clutch the blue fabric of his sweater for comfort.

The older man slaps the fat tip of his engorged dick on your clit, making you flinch from the jolt of pleasure. He then slides the head down to your slightly-stretched hole, and he begins to push in.

When your face contorts in confusion and mild discomfort, Andy is quick to tell you everything is okay. “Shh… It’s alright, baby. You’re fine,” he says, speaking gently and pressing chaste kisses to your face.

He looks down to where his fat cock pushes into your tightness, stretching you wider than ever before and claiming your fuckhole as his. The sight is mesmerising, and Andy can’t help the groan he lets out from it.

“Taking my cock like such a good little fucktoy. Fuck—you okay, little one?” your stepfather questions, and it takes you a few moments to respond to him. Slowly, you nod your head. Though the breach is unfamiliar and a lot to handle, you’re determined to be Andy’s good girl and fight through it.

There’s a pain that burns—and you bite onto his sweater to keep quiet. Andy examines your face as he continues to sheath his length inside you. “That’s my good girl. Feelin’ shy, baby?” he coos. “Aw, how cute.”

Eventually, your stepfather bottoms out with his heavy balls against your ass. He hums your name and the pet names he’s given you, waiting for you to pull your pretty face away from his chest. “Show me those doe-eyes, little one,” Andy requests. Slowly, you peek up at him.

Your eyes are big and they still hold that innocence that Andy knows he can’t rip away from you. “Good girl. How do you feel, baby?” he asks.

“Uhm—weird? Feels different… Deep, too…” you process out loud, and the older man nods with your every word.

“Yeah, I’m so deep inside you, little girl. All the way in your belly.” The thought has him growling, and he begins to shallowly fuck you. You mewl with each of his half-hearted thrusts. The pain is soon replaced with pleasure, one that you immediately grow fond of. “There we go…”

“More tingles,” you note, punctuating your sentence with a gasp as Andy’s movements grow more vigorous. “So many, Daddy.” Your stepdad nods his head and smiles at you sweetly, “That’s right, little girl. That’s what happens when Daddy stuffs his fat cock inside your babycunt.”

When he calls you those two words—little girl—your body reacts. You shy away from him whilst your pussy clenches around his dick, and he bites back a loud groan. The veins at his throat bulge, while his jaw clenches.

“I’m gonna start fucking you now, little one. You just gotta sit there and take whatever I give you,” he forewarns, and you nod your head. “Okay, Daddy.” At your words, Andy begins to pummel in and out of your pussy. Obscene noises come from where you’re connected to him—wet sounds and skin slapping against skin.

Andy looks down and watches as his cock forcefully disappears and reappears, your tightness still not used to such a large intrusion. His heavy balls smack against your ass, where your slick stains. “Drippin’ everywhere, baby. You love this—I fucking knew it,” he grunts, his pounds the perfect speed and intensity.

His cock kisses your cervix each time, making you writhe in pain. But when he rubs against your sweet spot, that discomfort leaves almost immediately. “Look, little one, your cream is all over my cock. You’re leaking down to my balls—fuck,” Andy harshly pushes forward at the realisation.

You wail from the intensity. “Yeah, you like getting fucked by a dirty old man, slut? Hm? Like getting fucked by your stepdaddy?” Andy questions, and you hesitate before nodding your head. He swears once more, and then leans down.

Though he’s repeatedly knocked the breath out of you, he now stops it from moving at all as he kisses you. At first, it’s soft and what teenage dreams are made of. But then, like the way he takes away your virginity, it grows rough and desperate. He takes the lead, shoving his tongue into your mouth and doing all kinds of things you can’t keep up with.

Andy eventually pulls away, noticing that his thrusts have dulled down. He picks his pace back up, his pelvis slamming into yours. Your cream coats his cock, leaving a stain that even reaches his patch of hair. Your lips are raw and glistening from the passionate, bruising kiss he had you locked in.

Your stepfather rams into your fuckhole without relent, forcing more of your wetness out with his shaft. His length strokes your sensitive walls with skill and aggression, abusing your cunt like he’s always wanted to.

Your chest is pressed against Andy’s, and he uses one of the hands that holds him up to pull down the top of your shirt, exposing your hardened nipples. The cold air adds to the ache of them. “Stupid little girl making the biggest fucking mess on her Daddy’s cock. Y’gonna clean it up after, baby? You better—with that cute mouth of yours.”

Nodding your head, you make the older man inhale a sharp, controlled breath. In contrast, you pant like a bitch in heat as your chest rises and falls. There’s a feeling that grows at a fast pace. It’s like when you have to go to the bathroom so badly—except this time, it’s more intoxicating than intolerable.

“D– Daddy! Feels funny—like before, but way m– more?” You’re so unsure of yourself—of your body—that it’s utterly adorable to Andy.

“That’s called an orgasm, little girl. You just sit there and beg Daddy to let you come, okay?” he requests, and you nod your head.

It feels like something that needs to desperately continue and be alleviated—but you know only Andy can do that for you, so you do whatever your stepdad says.

“P– Please let me come, Daddy! Need to come so bad… Please, please please—!” you gasp loudly, Andy’s cock driving deeper and he grinds with each pump of his cock, rubbing against your clit. “Good girl—such a good little slut for Daddy,” Andy hums, sensing you’re even closer to coming.

“Soak Daddy’s fat cock, little girl. C’mon, wanna see you make a stupid mess on this dick,” he commands, landing some slaps on your ass and the side of your left thigh. Your cunt suddenly convulses around him, clit thrumming and back arching as you come around his cock for the very first time. “Atta girl.”

He growls as your eyes roll back into your head, lids squeezing shut as your face pinches. Your mouth drops open in shock from the heat that envelops you. The grip your pussy has on Andy’s dick grows tighter, squeezing him and begging for more.

Your stepfather fucks you through your orgasm, slowing down just a bit when you begin to twitch from the pleasure. Your walls spasm until he manages to get you through the high, and then he resumes fucking you harshly. Your tits bounce with each slam of Andy’s hips, your body pushed upwards before he pulls you back onto his dick. “Ah—ah—ah,” you moan, going dumb on the older man’s cock. A mildly blank look is on your face, and you babble like a baby.

“Dumb little girl—talking about dirty things and behaving like a whore when you haven’t even had big girl sex yet,” Andy sneers, grabbing your jaw and puckering his lips up. He spits in your mouth, before telling you to swallow the wad of saliva. Like a good girl, you do exactly as he says. You even smile at him afterwards, before your face pinches again from the sensations his cock brings. “Greedy girl—that hungry pussy is just swallowin’ up Daddy’s fat cock,” he grunts, forcing his thickness in and out of you.

Your toes curl and feet point as your stepfather pushes your legs against your torso. His strong, well-built arms flex, and so does his muscled-chest. Your hands clench his sweater and subconsciously grope his pecs, and you marvel at his figure.

Because Daddy has to do everything for his helpless baby, he takes your arm and uses it to hold up your left leg, while his left hand pushes on your right. At this new angle, your stepfather’s shaft is far deeper than it was at first.

It’s almost dizzying—the way he’s practically in your tummy. And his thrusts are now stronger, too. Andy’s got you pinned to the bed as he pounds into you, determined to bring you to another orgasm before he blows his load. And even after that, he won’t stop.

“‘S so deep, Daddy! C– Can feel it in my g– guts,” you whine, and your words make Andy’s cock throb within your tight, wet walls. Your cream drips all over his cock, leaving a thick sheen and ring coating his base. Even his balls are soaked. “Uh-huh—you’re just so tiny, baby. Daddy had to force it in—but now you’re takin’ it like a champ.”

You preen under his gaze and his praise, but your tears still leak. “Aw, poor little crybaby. Daddy’s just fuckin’ you too good, huh? S’okay, I got you,” Andy whispers, wet noises filling the air along with the smell of sex. Your sweet tang is amongst the scent, and Andy knows that later on, he’ll rub your cunt raw with his beard.

“My little fuckdoll… This is Daddy’s pussy now—all mine, just like the rest of you,” he grunts, and your second release hits you all of a sudden.

You writhe away from Andy as best as you can, but it doesn’t get you anywhere. Instead, your aching nipples end up rubbing against the stitched threads on your stepfather’s sweater, adding to your pleasure.

Andy’s thick length nearly splits you open, having a bit of a harder time to move with your increased tightness. “Good girl—that’s it, go dumb on Daddy’s cock. My good little slut,” he moans, peppering kisses at your jaw and nipping at the skin every now and then.

Heat spreads inside your body as the mattress gets wetter with each drop of your arousal. “You’re makin’ a mess everywhere, baby. But it’s okay. Daddy knows that little girls like you can’t help it—you need Daddy’s help with everything.”

Mindlessly, you nod your head. You gush around Andy, coating his cock while you have him in a vice-like grip. Your swollen folds get nudged by his dick, and the sight is pornographic—something he can never forget.

“Looks like this cunt is perfect for Daddy to fuck, baby,” your stepdad tells you. “Made for me to use however I want. Gonna turn you into my little whore.”

Andy’s words make your pussy constrict even more around his dick. You practically choke him, begging for his cum without even realising it. “Daddy…” you sob, limbs trembling from the amount of euphoria his actions bring. Your stepfather’s jaw clenches at your use of the title.

“That’s right, little girl. I’m your Daddy,” he grunts, now using your fuckhole like it’s his fist. He fucks into your with vigour, determined to fill you up with his cum before he switches positions. He loves the struggle of getting his dick to fit inside your pussy. “You’re making Daddy feel so good, baby. ‘M gonna give you a nice reward for being so sweet.”

At his statement, you perk up as best as you can. Though it’s difficult to think or say anything. “R– Really, Daddy?” you question, elated at the thought of a reward. “Really, little one. You’re such a good girl for Daddy—all the time, too. Never made me have to spank that ass ‘till you’re crying.”

He mumbles the last part, but you catch a bit of his sentence. You don’t understand him though—crying? No, Daddy would never hurt you. Andy’s said so numerous times—times where you’ve cried in his arms and clung to him like a kitten.

Now, your cunt does the same. It weeps and doesn’t let go of Andy’s dick, and the mounting pleasure inside him is as desperate and needy, too. “Gonna give you a belly full of my cum, baby. I’ll fill you up until you’re leaking with my seed for days,” the older man grunts, before cursing wildly.

“Fuck—fuck—fuck.”

Suddenly, the snapping of his hips stops, and he shoves his cock forward until he can’t move any further. The harshness makes you frown, wincing at the mild pain. Then, warmth fills you up, undoubtedly claiming your walls and coating them with white stickiness.

Andy pants above you, heart clamouring in his chest as he hit his release. He grinds into your pussy to prolong it, only stopping when his hard length grows sensitive. Already, his cum leaks from the sides of his cock.

“There we go—now you’re all mine, little girl. And I know you like being Daddy’s,” he smiles at you, coming down from his high. His face has a blush to it.

Andy takes one of his hands and puts it on your tummy, rubbing your skin slightly to get you to relax. It works—but not in the way he predicted.

“A– Again, Daddy? Please?” you start to beg, taking your stepdad by surprise. “W– What do you mean, baby?” he questions, moving his hand to grip your hip. “Do it again, please. F– Feels so good, made some of the tingles go away…” you explain, tightening your channel at the thought.

“You want Daddy to stretch this pretty pussy out again?” Andy asks. It takes you a few seconds and his index finger pointing to where he is penetrating you for you to answer. “Uh-huh!” you moan out, gyrating your hips to alleviate the newer, fluttery feeling at your core.

“Alright… Wanna play a fun game, little one?”

You nod your head, eager to spend more time with your stepfather.

“Good. It’s called horsey,” Andy says, slowly pulling out of your pussy. You whine loudly at the loss, cum leaking out of you and spilling onto the bed. “Don’t worry, I’ll explain it for your little baby brain to understand.”

Your stepdad grabs your and manhandles your body, sitting against the headboard and placing you in his lap.

Your dripping pussy is against his hard cock. “All you have to do is bounce on Daddy’s cock—feel it? Yeah—and make it go really deep inside of you. Think you can do that, little girl`?” he says, rubbing his dick against your swollen, wet petals.

Above him, you shudder. The pleasure is almost too much for your little-self to handle, but you push through its intensity. “O– Of course, Daddy! ‘M your good girl—gonna do anythin’ for you,” you mumble, and Andy’s hands pull at the cloth covering your torso.

It then rips, and he removes the shreds from your body. “That’s right, baby. You’re my good girl,” he coos, reaching down to grab the thick, wet base of his hard cock. He gives himself a few languid strokes, before lifting you up a bit.

The fat, sensitive tip of your stepfather’s cock prods at your hole that’s still mildly stretched-out from his brutal fucking. Andy pushes in, pulling you down a bit so you meet him halfway. He knows it’s going to be deeper than ever—and he can’t wait to see that dumb, empty look on your face when he bottoms out.

But then he looks at your mug, and he finds himself feeling something rotten. Something terrible, sinking in his chest until his lust takes over and turns him selfish once more. No—not selfish… Just complicated.

“Daddy, feels scary,” you admit, trying to fall forward and lay against his chest. Andy tuts, holding you up and giving you one of his charming, sweet smiles. “It’s okay, I got you. Daddy’s here, little one,” he assures you, tone saccharine in a stark contrast to his dirty actions.

As you slide down his length, it becomes more difficult to take him. You try to move away from the older man—run away from his intimidating cock. “Nuh-uh. I thought you wanted to play with Daddy, baby,” Andy pouts, and your heart breaks from his sadness.

“C– Can’t take it, Daddy,” you explain to him, half of his dick inside of you. “Yes, you can, sweetheart. Let Daddy help you, it’s okay.”

Andy’s hands hold your waist, and he looks down to where he’s connected to you, and suddenly thrust upwards. You fall forward with a cry, unprepared for the new angle. He lets you seek comfort in him and his sweater once more, rubbing his hands up and down the length of your back.

“Shhh… you’re okay, it’s okay. You’re lucky Daddy pumped your pussy full of cum, baby. It would’ve hurt way more,” your stepfather tells you, waiting for your whimpers to die down. “Daddy’s dick is so deep inside you, hm?”

You nod your head slowly, gripping his sweater and pushing your face into his chest. “I know, little one. But when you start to play, it’ll be fine. Try bouncing, baby. Just move up and down.”

Once again, you nod and try to sit up. Andy’s hands move down to your waist, and you splay yours on his clothed pecs. “Up and down—c’mon, you can do it. Daddy knows you can,” he urges, and you begin to lift your body up.

You stop when you feel it’s right—when half of Andy’s thickness is left inside you. Then, you slide back down. A growl rumbles in the older man’s chest, his cock throbbing as your walls stroke him. “W– Was that good, Daddy?” you question.

“So good, baby—have you played this game before?” he playfully asks, but then that humour turns to jealousy. The thought of you riding another man’s dick has Andy fuming—possessiveness boiling hot inside him and reaching the temperature of the sun. “Nuh-uh. Only you, Daddy. Nobody else.”

Like salve on a wound, you heal that vulnerability of his with your words. “Atta girl,” he praises. “How about we add a fun little rule, sweetie?” he offers as you continue to glide up and down on his cock. You whimper with each movement, muscles burning from the strain.

“O– Okay, Daddy. W– What’s the rule?” you innocently question, looking at him with your doe eyes. “Everytime Daddy slaps your ass, you have to move quicker, okay?” your stepfather tells you, moving his palms down to the globes of your ass. He caresses the skin gently.

Before you can worry about the pain, Andy lands a sharp smack to your butt, making you yelp. You pick up the pace of your movements, still careful, however. “Such a perfect pussy, little one. So tight and warm and wet… And made for my cock,” he whispers, punctuating his sentences with spanks.

Unfortunately, Andy’s cock doesn’t kiss those spots with expert aim. And you’re too scared to take his entire length. So, your poor legs give up, and you fall forward again. You cry out from the wasted euphoria—gone is the dull fire inside you. But not entirely.

“Aw, you can't do what Daddy does, hm? Poor baby. You need me so bad,” your stepdad coos, but it’s more like he rubs your failure in. “Dumb little girl—acting like a whore even though you can’t ride Daddy’s cock. How silly of you—don’t you feel stupid?”

You let out a whine that turns into a sob, and Andy quickly shushes you. Stupid Andrew, he chides himself, hurting this sweet thing… Don’t you love her? “Baby?” he calls out, trying to coax you out of the shell you’ve crawled back into.

His cock isn’t buried to the hilt like it was before, and the ache between your legs still needs to be taken care of—Andy’ll fix that after. He wedges his hand between your face and his body, pushing you off him roughing and holding your hand in his palm. You frown and cry out from the pain, face twisted in discomfort.

“‘M sorry, little one. Daddy's sorry. Fuck—can’t help it,” he slurs, hating himself for getting so rough with you. But it’s not his fault he’s this way. You just awaken something ferocious in him—something that needs to be held down with chains and locked away in a cage for eternities.

Something so terrible yet so addictive.

“I love playing with you so much—that’s why Daddy hurts you, little one. I love you, I just get excited sometimes,” he explains, cupping your cheek and smiling at you. Eventually, you come around. “S’okay, Daddy,” you whisper, looking downwards.

“It’s my turn to play horsey now, little girl. All you have to do is sit up straight, okay? Try not to lay on Daddy.”

Andy’s heels dig into the mattress and he bends his knees just a bit, still holding onto your hips. He looks down to where he breaches your tightness, and notices the tinge of pink that mixes with his spunk—the same cum that leaves out of your fuckhole.

At that moment, he ignores it. He stores that thought for later—for when he’s lonely and desperate to feel guilt. Andy bottoms out inside you slowly, enjoying the lewd squelching sounds that come with his action. “Oh, gosh,” you murmur, eyes rolling back into your head.

The hairy base of his cock touches your core, and his balls rest against your ass. Andy’s hands move to your butt, and he spreads your cheeks apart. One of his fingers prods at your other hole. The older man has half a mind to defile your little rosebud that’s sticky with wetness and his cum.

You can feel Andy’s cock so deep inside you; it’s dizzying. The breath is nearly knocked out of you, and you feel as though you’ve bared something to your stepfather that has left you utterly vulnerable. The feeling has you distraught, but Andy told you he’d take away all your thoughts, so it’ll be okay. Right?

“You're such a good girl for me. So good. My good girl,” Andy grunts, and he’s lifting you off his cock until just the tip remains inside you. His hips then return to the depths of your wet channel. He starts to fuck up into you, and the familiar sound of skin-on-skin reverberates throughout the room. This time, it’s louder.

Andy stares at your pretty face while he fucks you into oblivion, making sure to study each aspect. From the way your eyes roll into your skull when he shoves his thickness into you to how your jaw falls slack so quickly. It’s all for him.

“Daddy—Daddy—Daddy!” you squeal, toes curling and limbs stiff yet twitching. Is it possible to be hooked on the way someone says something? You’re not a ‘someone’ though—you’re so special and so different. The answer must be yes. It must be normal, too.

Your tits bounce with each of his upward-thrusts. This new angle is unlike anything you’ve ever felt—more profound and accurate. Your stepdad fucks into you with such roughness that it’s hard to keep upright. Especially with the building sensitivity in your lower abdomen.

“Fuck, yeah. Take Daddy’s fat cock in this tiny cunt, little one. Fucking take it, slut,” Andy grunts, getting meaner by the second. It’s a helpless habit, and thank heavens that you don’t understand half of the words he’s saying.

A blank smile spreads itself on your face, but your eyes are full of hope. Hope that you’re doing good for your Daddy.

“You’re my good girl. My good girl—my dumb little girl. No thoughts in that head, hm? You just wanna please your Daddy and get fucked until you can’t think anymore,” he spits, and the word that diminishes your intelligence has your bottom lip wobbling.

You want to please your Daddy, but you must be doing something wrong, no?

“Aw, don’t cry, little one. Daddy’s being nice to you, okay? It’s good like this!” Andy quickly tells you, slowing down his thrusts. He grinds into you in the meantime, and he doesn’t miss the way your cunt is gripping him even tighter. “O– Okay, Daddy. T– Thank you?” you apprehensively say, unsure of so many things.

“Daddy’ll teach you all about it after. Okay? You’re so cute and polite, little one. You’re doing so good for me,” Andy coos, rubbing a thumb on your face. You grin at him before squeezing your eyes shut, feeling that funny sensation inside of you.

It worsens as your stepfather continues to fuck your guts, stroking your walls with his thick member. In the midst of his actions, Andy craves a cigarette. He wonders if you’d let him blow smoke in your face since you said he can do whatever he wants to you. Of course, you would—you’re such a good girl.

“Wanna make Daddy even happier, sweetie?” he wonders, stretching one of his arms to reach the bedside table. He pulls the top drawer open and blindly sifts through it. “O– Of course, daddy. Please? Wanna make you happy,” you plead, absentmindedly gyrating your hips on your stepdad’s cock.

Andy finds the lighter grouped with the pack of Parliament cigarettes. He doesn’t bother closing the drawer, but he does bring you closer and forces you to catch yourself on your hands.

Your stepfather—who had promised your mom that he kicked the habit—plucks a smoke from the box and places it between his pink lips. “Daddy? What are you doing?” you question, halting your movements. Andy smiles at you, the cigarette wobbling a bit.

“Don’t worry your little baby brain about it, sweet girl,” he simply tells you, before lighting the cigarette. He takes a drag from it and puffs the smoke back out, satiating the craving he had a few moments ago. He then places it on the ashtray as you watch the grey smog swirl in the blue of his room.

Andy pulls you towards his chest and holds you, fucking up into your cunt. His cock drives in and out of you, balls slapping against your ass and his thick thighs jiggle each time.

“Uhm… Oh–! Uh, Daddy?” you murmur, finding it harder to breathe. “Shh… Don’t worry, little one. Just soak Daddy’s fat cock,” Andy shushes, and you mewl at his filthy words.

Your cunt aches immensely, but it’s the kind that is more resounding and pleasurable than anything. Andy abuses your cream-filled fuckhole like it’s all he can do—all he knows how to do. Make you feel good—that’s it.

He’s spewing grunts and curses, and each time he utters a filthy word, you take note of how gravelly his voice is, how it rumbles in his chest and you can quite literally feel it. It’s a harsh contrast to your high-pitched wails and choked-out moans.

“Come, little one. C’mon, fuckin’ make a mess for your Daddy,” he demands once more, punctuating his words with hard thrusts.

Your body comprehends his words, and it starts to have that reaction.

The one where your back arches yet your limbs flail and your head tries to pull away from the crook of his neck. It’s almost as if you’re trying to run away from your stepdad. He won’t let you go, though—he never will. Yet it makes him so hard when you try to escape.

Your mind soars high above the cotton candy clouds of your skies. You start convulsing around Andy’s member, creaming and soaking him. Your body freezes and you let out a wail that is music to his ears. He cheers you on with small ‘yeah’s that have you giggling slightly. “Good girl.”

Your tits jiggle, and your body jerks upwards as Andy roughly fucks you through your orgasm. “D– Daddy,” you mewl, and Andy simply begins to fuck you quicker. Eventually, those sparks he brought became too much. You’re not sure what to do, though, so you simply writhe on his lap.

“‘M gonna fill you up again. Gonna pump this cunt full of cum until you’re leaking for days. Turn you into my messy little girl,” your stepfather says through grunts and growls as he sloppily uses your pussy. You nod your head and grin, wincing every now and then.

The older man’s sloppy, selfish pumps grow erratic. Andy then stills deep inside your cunt, burying himself to the hilt. A guttural moan leaves him, one that is louder than intended. He holds your body tightly, not wanting to let go of you.

His white ropes paint your inner walls until the sides of his cock are dripping, and there’s a ring at the base. Spilling inside you, Andy turns you into his cumdump once more. “Fuck,” he groans, your tight pussy tempting him to go again and again.

Maybe he will. His cock remains locked inside you, and both of your chests rise and fall with exhaustion. “Daddy…” you whimper, cunt sensitive and stretched out from his engorged dick.

“Shh… Daddy’ll take care of this greedy pussy again, little girl. Don’t you worry,” Andy tells you.

Your hands are on his body, and you brace yourself up using his waist. It’s hard to stay upright with the weakness of your body and the wobble of your arms.

Andy reaches for the ashtray and plucks the cigarette back up. He dusts the ash off, and puts it back between his lips. He inhales the smog, and then pulls the smoke away to puff out the grey fumes.

“That’s dirty, Daddy. Don’t do it, please,” you bemoan, curling in on yourself at the sight of your stepfather harming his health. “Well, I guess that makes Daddy a dirty old man, no?” he half-quips.

Your stepfather takes another drag, and then he pulls you close to his face. Andy exhales, smoke directed in your face and he catches you at the right time. You take a breath in, unexpectedly drawing in the fumes of his cigarette.

You giggle apprehensively—still worried and it’s written all over your face, even if you don’t mean it to. You’ve got that look you always have when you’re trying to fight back your sweet tears, trying not to burst into sobs. Eventually, the smoke goes away. But the revolting smell of it remains, lingering in his room.

In Andy’s mind, it only makes sense a dirty old man like him would have an equally as nasty habit.

And to balance it out, an innocent little girl like you on his cock.

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transmascissues · 7 months

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it's silly but the biggest reason why im not into t yet is bc im so afraid of losing my hair. do you have any solutions/tips for it?

first of all, i don’t think it’s silly — it’s natural to be worried when hair loss is talked about by so many people as like…one of the worst results of aging for men. listening to my dad talk about how much he hates balding definitely did not make me feel particularly good about the knowledge that i may very well be joining him someday. i’m not saying the fear is right, because i don’t think hair loss is something awful that we should avoid at all costs, but it’s an understandable fear given the beauty standards we’re working with, and it’s one that a lot of us (myself included) feel.

one thing that’s helped me is just…paying more attention to the guys that i interact with on a daily basis. i’ve learned two things from it: 1) hair loss is super fucking common. i’d say it’s much harder to find an adult man who isn’t balding at all than it is to find one who’s completely bald. and 2) if you forget everything you’ve been told about how bad hair loss is, you’ll realize that quite frankly, every single one of those guys looks totally fucking fine. it doesn’t ruin their appearance and make them ugly, it looks totally natural and isn’t really even something you’d notice if you weren’t looking for it. we put so much weight on it but it’s really just not that big of a deal. i’ll hear my parents talk shit about men in my family who are losing their hair when i didn’t even notice a difference last time i saw them. it’s one of those things (like so many other appearance-related things) that you really only notice at all because you’ve been taught that you’re supposed to care about it.

this isn’t something i’ve done personally, but if you really want to desensitize yourself to the idea of it, embrace the time-honored queer tradition of just shaving your whole damn head! find out what you’d look like without hair, find out how you feel about it and what you can do that makes you feel good about your appearance without hair, test the waters while it’s still a temporary change and not something permanent. that way, it won’t feel like this big scary unknown, and you’ll actually have a frame of reference for your feelings about how you look without hair rather than accepting the societal assumption that you’ll inevitably hate it. if you don’t want to actually shave your head, you could also just fuck around with bald filters or photoshop and see what happens.

oh, and if you’re attracted to men, keep an eye out for guys who are bald or balding and also hot as fuck. in my experience, there’s no insecurity or potential future insecurity that being gay for other men hasn’t helped me with. just off the top of my head, i can think of a couple actors who i think are absolutely fucking gorgeous who have helped me get over my fears about losing my hair. despite what our anti-aging-obsessed world might want you to think, there is no such thing as a physical feature that automatically makes someone less attractive, and while making attractiveness less of a priority in your life is good, it can’t hurt to also give yourself some proof that actually, you might lose your hair and look hot as hell doing it.

basically, entertain the possibility that it won’t be a bad thing at all! whether that’s just because it turns out to be a neutral thing for you or because you end up actually liking it, it’s not an inherently bad thing. i’ve ended up liking a lot of things that were “supposed to” be bad effects of t — i love the weight i’ve gained and the new shape it gives my body, i get a lot of gender euphoria from the fact that my acne is now on parts of my face that i saw a lot of guys in high school get it and i’m not complaining about the scars i get from it either because i’ve always liked the added texture that acne scars give my skin, and so on. i think there’s a lot of joy to be had in the changes we’re taught to fear, once we look past that conditioning and actually explore how we feel about it.

but if it’s something you really don’t want and you just want to improve your chances of not having to deal with it, it’s not like there’s nothing you can do! products like finasteride (oral) and minoxidil (usually topical but i think there might also be oral versions) are pretty commonly used among trans guys, for the purpose of avoiding hair loss and for other reasons, and there are plenty of other anti-hair loss products out there (though i don’t know how effective any one of them might be). if it’s a big enough deal for you, you can just decide that you’ll go off of t if/when you start noticing signs of it, since no longer having higher t levels would stop the process in its tracks. and if you don’t find prevention options that work for you so it ends up happening, you can always explore different hair styles (judging by the pattern of hair loss i see in my family, i suspect that keeping my hair long would make it less obvious if i started losing mine), find your preferred method of covering it when you don’t feel good about it (personally i love a good beanie generally and would probably wear them a lot more if i didn’t have hair to worry about because my main complaint is the way they press my hair onto my neck), or just shave it all off if you don’t like the look of the partial balding but don’t mind a shaved head. the point being — you have options!

at the end of the day, whether you go on t or not, you’re going to see your body change as you age in ways that aren’t always going to be attractive to others or aesthetically pleasing to you. that’s just the reality of having a body. even if you never went on t, you’d get older and you might see your hair thin out even if you don’t bald, you’ll see your skin start to wrinkle and sag in places that used to be smooth, your metabolism might slow or your body fat might start to gather in new places; hell, you might lose your hair for a totally different reason and end up in the same place but without the benefits of having been on t that whole time. life is full of bodily changes like that. transphobes will fearmonger about the permanent changes of testosterone all day long but the truth is, there is no escaping permanent bodily changes. whether or not you go on t, your body now isn’t the same as it will be in 1 or 5 or 10 or 20 or 50 years, just like it isn’t the same as it was at any point in your life before now. our bodies are never supposed to stop growing and aging and changing throughout our lives. there’s no guaranteeing that we’ll love every single change our bodies go through, but that’s okay! there are so many things in life that are more important than the way our bodies look. even if you go on t and lose your hair and don’t like how it looks, your life won’t be ruined; plenty of other things will bring you joy and more than make up for the insecurities.

just think about the gender euphoria and relief from dysphoria that t could give you. would losing your hair be bad enough to outweigh all of that? or is it just the pressure of a society that decided balding is bad that’s making you fear one single change despite how much joy you could have if you let that fear go? only you can decide if going on t is worth the potential downsides for you, but i suspect that for most of us, the benefits of going on t far outweigh the possibility of side effects like hair loss happening down the line.

#when i say i love helping people beat their fears about t this is what i mean. i will simply write a whole essay about it #some people might think it’s silly to answer a question like this so extensively #but i don’t think it is! i feel like this is a really common fear but also one i don’t see talked about much #maybe because it’s so common among cis guys that people don’t see it as a question to ask in trans spaces? idk #but i think we should talk about it more. especially when transphobes use it as a way to talk shit about t #ask answered #testosterone #hrt #ftm hrt #hair loss #trans men #transmascs

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theyluvkarolina · 4 months

Text

౨ৎ GOODBYE MY BRITISH SWEETHEART ౨ৎ

masterlist / rules / requests & talks with me!

SUMMARY౨ৎ Loving Lando is like how the Earth circles the sun. In absolute awe and admiration. But the Earth is slowly destroying itself in the presence of this star. The rays of this sun are burning away at this Earth’s ozone layer, maybe even going as far into this Earth’s core.

PAIRING ౨ৎ Lando Norris x Fem!Driver!Reader

FACE CLAIM ౨ৎ Amna Al Qubaisi

WARNINGS ౨ৎ fighting, misogyny (not by the grid or lando), reader is self conscious

A/N ౨ৎ God. Whenever I hear this song and think about Lando, all i think about is him and Luisiha. :( Again, I made this not in a SMAU format i’m used to. I decided to make the reader replace Daniel for the fic (I STILL LOVE HIM I PROMISE 😭😭)I hope you still like it! Tbh, I feel like I didn't do this request justice. If I have a chance some point in time, I might rewrite it.

1K EVENT MASTERLIST

1.3K words!

Twitter

INSTAGRAM

f1 ✔︎

♡ liked by mclaren, maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, and others

f1 Lando wins it in Miami, winning his first race! Congratulations! 👏

tagged ; landonorris

3,219 comments

username1 LANNNDOOOO

username2 lando has finally landed 🥹

username3 HE FINALLY DID IT!!

carlosainz55 ✔︎ congratulations cabrón! Welcome to the winners side 😉

→ landonorris ✔︎ glad to finally be part of the club 👊

maxverstappen1 ✔︎ lando nowins no more 👏

→ landonorris ✔︎ haha funny 😒

georgerussel63 ✔︎ congrats mate!!

username5 has anyone noticed that y/n hasen’t liked or commented? :(

→ username6 ik!! usually she is always the first or second person to do both whenever he gets podium…

username7 no because did anyone see how y/n was staring at Lando with his trophy??

→ username8 I THOUGHT I WAS THE ONLY ONE. → username9 she looked at him like he was ripping her heart out 🙁 → username10 I mean, y/n has been in f1 for what, 2 more years than him and still no win. I know it's just eating her up inside. → username11 I hope she gets her win soon and shuts up the misogynists. → username12 it sucks that the team did a absolute shit strategy when the safety car stopped her and made lando gain her stop.. but I’m still happy for him!!

y/n_l/n ✔︎

♡ liked by visacashapprb, yukitsunoda, sophiafloersch and others

y/n_l/n Miami ? Done ✅

tagged ; visacashapprb

2,350 comments

username13 she didn’t even post her podium photo :(

→ username14 if i were her i wouldn’t either.

username15 can she idk, be happy for lando?

→ username16 no way you are suggesting this girl be happy after she lost her chance to overtake lando because of the safety car, taking away what may be the second woman to win a f1 race next to Desiré Wilson, after years of misogyny, and men telling her she doesn’t have a place in motorport along with other women. → username17 god how i love you @ username16. SOMONE ACTUALLY USES THEIR BRAIN

visacashapprb ✔︎ wonderful work as per usual!

→ username18 for someone who has been in f1 for 8 years? hell no. → username19 someone is jelly → username20 they aren’t jealous they are just stating a fact 😂 → username21 the fact that they are saying how she should be winning stuff after 8 years? → username22 obviously. since she came she hasn’t won anything → username23 lance stroll, kevin magnussen, and nico hulkenburg are calling buddy and they are saying your misogyny is showing. 💀 → username24 LMAOOAOA YOU GO @ username23

TWITTER

In Person

Saying that the end of the race was a disappointment was an understatement. For the past eight years, it only felt like the world was out to get you.

The constant criticism, misogyny, the occasional car failures, Lance Stroll's grotesque driving skills, and now, Lando winning his first Grand Prix but with the cost of you losing your position due to a shitty strategy mistake. It's frustrating, to say the least.

Being in love with Lando has its ups and downs. And as of right now? A hard low. As his partner, you want to kiss him all over his sunkissed face, going over each birthmark with tenderness. Congratulate him. Tell him how proud you are of him for finally achieving what he has been aiming for years. Ruffle those chestnut curls that you love dearly as you both stand on the podium, covered in sticky champagne as the fizzy liquid cascades over you, creating a tingling sensation on your skin you both embrace, the rainbows of confetti dancing in the air to the ground, trophy in his hands.

Yet, as a driver, you despise him. That haunting smile that glances over now and then, that sterling silver trophy dazzling in the light, blinding you as if it were the shining teeth of someone laughingly mocking you. God, how you hated it.

After closing the door to the driver's room, you swiftly remove the carbon fiber helmet, peeling off the balaclava that clings to my face, leaving my hair matted against my skin. With a surge of frustration, you glance angrily at the helmet before flinging the helmet to the ground, the sound reverberating through the room. Your breathing quivers as you gaze at the floor before ultimately slumping against the wall adjacent to the door, back against it. Running a hand through your damp hair, you rub my temple, feeling the weight of the day's events.

How did you get to this point?

“Where in the world have you been, you muppet? You just up and left after the national anthems.” Lando's voice broke you out of your trance as he stood by the door, remembering you didn't lock the door. "I didn't even get to spray the champagne on you like usual." He adds with a frown.

"Not now, Lando." You stated looking down at your hands as you picked the skin around your nails to cope. His face still held a frown, yet he raised a brow at your tone.

"Not now?" He repeats, almost confused by your comment. "What's wrong? Talk to me."

"I said not now, Lando," You repeat, my voice growing more insistent. "I just need some space right now."

Lando's expression softens as he takes a step closer, concern evident in his eyes. "Hey, come on. You can talk to me. I know today didn't go as planned, but we can work through this together."

My frustration boils over, and I finally look up to meet his gaze. "You don't get it, do you? This could have been my chance. My chance to finally prove that I belong here. Actually- no, not me, but every woman. That we won't be not some- some girls here for some representation to make F1 seem better but to show that we belong here! That we are as good as men! And that shitty strategy screwed me over, and now it seems like I am a shit driver..." You snap in exasperation.

“I never tried to say that I understand.” Lando glared. His expression hardens, and he takes a step back, hurt evident in his eyes. "You know that's not true. You're an incredibly talented driver, and one bad race doesn't define you."

You scoff, feeling the weight of his words but unable to fully accept them. "Easy for you to say. This ‘one bad race’ has been multiple races. You've had your moment of glory today. You got the lavish celebration you’ve been wanting.“

Lando shakes his head, his frustration creeping into his voice. "This isn't about me. It's about us! I want you to succeed just as much as I want to succeed. We’re a team, even if we are on other racing teams. But pushing me away and shutting me out won't solve anything. What’s with all this?“

“Don’t you get it, Lando?! You’re perfect now! You have fans who love you, you have a secure seat, and you have a win now Lando! All you need is a championship! You don’t have people telling you that you don’t belong here because you have talent. You have people who support you even when your team makes a stupid mistake and they still defend you! The second I do something wrong, even when it's team orders, I'm belittled and told to go back to do my "role" as a housewife! God, I can't even get time to be with my boyfriend or friends before getting screamed at by middle-aged men that I'm a 'grid fucker' and that I had sex to get to where I am!"

Lando’s face falls at your words, a mix of offense and hurt flashing in his eyes. “You think I don’t understand pressure? I get it, alright? I get that it’s different for you, and it’s unfair. But pushing everyone away, pushing me away, isn’t the answer.”

You stand up, your body tense with the weight of your frustration and sadness. “I’m not pushing you away, Lando. I’m trying to cope with the fact that no matter what I do, it’s never enough. And seeing you succeed, seeing everyone praise you, it just… it just makes it harder.”

Lando steps closer, his voice softer now. “I want to help you, but I can’t if you won’t let me in. We’re supposed to be in this together. Isn’t that what we promised each other?”

You look at him, your heart aching at the sight of his earnest expression. “It’s not that simple. I can’t keep pretending that everything’s okay when it’s not. And I can’t stand beside you, smiling, when I feel like I’m drowning.”

He reaches out to touch your arm, but you pull away. “Please, don’t. I need to find my way through this, Lando. And I can’t do that if I’m constantly comparing myself to you.”

Lando’s eyes widen with realization. “You’re breaking up with me.”

A lump forms in your throat, tears welling up. “Don't put it like that..” I start. Lando tries to talk but I beat him to it. "I'm... not necessarily breaking up with you. It's more of a... "Goodbye"."

"That's technically still breaking up with me," Lando mutters, a tiny, barely noticeable smile cracking through onto his lips at the light attempt at a joke to ease the growing tension. I let out a tearful giggle.

Lando’s smile crumples into a frown and he takes a shaky breath. “I love you. I don’t want to lose you.”

“You aren't losing me... I love you too,” you whisper, your voice breaking. “But right now, love isn’t enough. I need to stand on my own two feet, without always feeling like I’m in your shadow.”

He looks away, blinking rapidly, trying to hide the growing tears in his greenish-blue eyes. “This isn’t how I wanted today to end. I wanted today to be happy. For us both.”

“Neither did I,” you say softly, placing a hand on his cheek, moving his head to look at you while you skim your fingers over his birthmarks. “But sometimes, things don’t go as planned.”

There’s a long, painful silence between you, filled with all the things left unsaid. Finally, Lando nods, his eyes shining with unshed tears, leaning over to press a tender kiss onto your forehead.

“Goodbye, then,” Lando whispers.

In response, you bend forward, placing your lips against his own, kissing him softly, both our lips brushing lightly as if savoring the moment for what may be the last time experiencing such a feeling.

“Goodbye.” You replied, voice narrowly above a whisper.

𝐀/𝐍 2 : Ending tbh is kinda cringey but oh well it felt right in the moment 😫

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feyhunter78 · 1 year

Note

Can you please do part two of Pink Pastels? Thank you 🩷

I definitely can!!! I'm honestly such a sucker for dual povs I swear it's like my calling card, so this chapter is in Miguel's pov! Fun fact: the bf in this story is based off my best friend's college boyfriend who showed up high out of his mind to her place of work SEVERAL times (I obvi changed his name though bc I'm a nice person)

Pt 3

Pink Pastels Pt 2

Miguel searches through every database, has Lyla run your face, your name, every detail he can find about you, and yet you only seem to appear here, in this universe where he swoops in right as your universe’s Miguel dies.

No one notices the switch. Not even his coworkers at Alchemax. In fact, they seem to welcome his “new attitude,” and he finds himself with a raise within the first two months.

This universe is quiet, the other him died from a fluke, embarrassingly enough. But it was so random, so unpredictable, that no one questioned “his” survival. So, life goes on as it had before, how he had watched it go on before.

The old woman who lives next door and watches Gabi when he’s “called into work late,” smiles at him, praises him for working so hard for his daughter. Gabi wakes up in the morning to him, her father, like always, eats breakfast, strawberries, blueberries, and honey on her toast, scrambled eggs with cheese, tomatoes, peppers, and a glass of milk. Then he drops her off at school on his way to work.

The monitors beep at him, and he turns back towards them. Finally, it’s found you in his universe, the victim of a plane crash, years before Gabi would even be born. It’s a painless death. You were among those killed on impact. Gone in a moment, but as he watches you here, in this new universe where his daughter is happy and thriving, he realizes just how desperately he wished he would have found you before you ever set foot in that airport.

“She’s pretty.” Lyla says, leaning forward, a teasing smile on her face. “Looks like someone’s got the hots for teacher?”

“No.” He deadpans, though he can’t tear his eyes from you. You’re sitting in a Mexican restaurant giggling into your margarita, another woman—Janey—sits across from you shoveling chips and queso into her mouth, making you laugh even harder.

You’re in that pink dress from earlier. It brightens your skin, hugs your curves but in a modest way, it’s more than appropriate for a teacher to wear, but he’s salivating at the thought of his talons tearing through it and exposing the soft flesh beneath.

Would you cry out for him? Cling to him as he fucks you? You look so pretty in pink, and he wants to go slow, keep you in that color for as long as possible, but he knows himself better than that. The moment he’s able to, he’ll shred the garment, leaving ribbons of fabric in his wake as he bends you over the nearest piece of furniture and slams into you. He wants to feel your warmth around him, hear you begging for him, his name falling from your perfect lips as he gropes your breasts, fangs scraping down your throat, marking you as his.

You laugh again at something the waiter said, and it’s musical, and perfect, you are perfect.

A twinge of jealousy, a foolish thing he knows, but the thought passes through his mind. It should be him making you laugh. He’s studied you now, he knows exactly what makes you laugh, what songs you hum as you prepare your classroom for the day, how you keep colorful Band-Aids in your purse because you just can’t turn off being a teacher, Janey.

And you’re Gabi’s favorite teacher, he wasn’t lying when he told you she talked about you, though he may have added the pretty part. She goes on and on about you, to the point where he almost doesn’t need the cams, he can get every bit of information from his daughter.

“And then, Ms. Y/N told us about her trip to Disney World! She went with her boyfriend, but I don’t know why.” Gabi says, collecting the animal shaped macaroni on her fork. He let her pick dinner, feeling guilty that he didn’t know she’d cried over her lost tooth.

He feels guilty about snapping at you too. He was already worked up, his job, the multiverse, traffic. And last night he forgot all about the Tooth Fairy, so in the morning Gabi was afraid the Tooth Fairy didn’t like her. But you don’t get rewards for losing things once you’ve grown up, and the idea of Gabi going into that pain blindly, having to watch as those she loves disappears around her makes him want to rip his heart from his chest.

“What do you mean Mija?” He asks, his own forkful of mac and cheese halfway to his mouth.

How had he missed you having a boyfriend? Was it serious? Did he treat you well? How easy would it be to make him disappear?

“Well, Ms. Y/N was really happy when she was talking about her trip, but then when she mentioned her boyfriend, she got sad.” Gabi explains, a frown tugging at her lips. “I don’t like him.”

“Yeah?” He prompts her, fighting the urge, to call up Lyla and have her run a search for your boyfriend.

“He came in one time on her birthday, but he was all weird and smelled bad.” Then she got up from the table and mimed stumbling and swaying. “And he walked like this. Ms. Y/N was really mad. Plus, he didn’t even bring her a present.”

Your boyfriend showed up to an elementary school—your place of work on your birthday, drunk, with no gift.

“That’s not nice, when was Ms. Y/N’s birthday?” If he was speaking to anyone but his daughter, he was sure they’d see right through them, but his sweet girl thought nothing of it.

“Last week, I wanted to tell you about it, but you were on your trip, so I told Tia Margo.”

Tia Margo, the old woman next door. He needs to speak with her about letting him know there was a drunk at his daughter’s school. Maybe next time he sees her in the hall, he’ll mention it to her.

“I wish you had told me, then maybe we could’ve gotten her a gift to make up for it.” He says, smiling at her, so she knows he’s not upset.

“I don’t think one gift would make it all better, she’s sad about her boyfriend a lot.” She emphasizes the last word, making the ending sound sharp as she stabs at her food.

“It sounds like he’s a bad boyfriend. Make sure you stay away from boys like him, Mija.” He can’t help but feel protective, even though she’s only six.

He watches as she eats, her hair in a simple braid, a sparkly pink hairband tying it off. “Who did your hair?”

She stops and proudly holds the braid up. “Ms. Y/N, well Emma did it first, but then it fell out when I did a cartwheel, so Ms. Y/N fixed it, and she said I could keep the hairband.”

If he focuses, he can smell the scent of you, mingled with the scent of his home, as if you’re already beside them in your rightful place.

“Maybe we should get her a thank-you gift?” He suggests, his heart warming at the excitement on Gabi’s face.

She is so good, so pure, and sweet. She is nothing like him, and yet she is everything he wished for her to be. He doesn’t know her mother, not in his original universe, but he knows her in this one, watched the other him break down over her leaving. Agony is a cannon event, no interference allowed. He hopes she never returns, that she stays away from his daughter. Doesn’t ruin her with her selfishness.

Just as your boyfriend is ruining you.

He waits until Gabi’s asleep to call out for Lyla. She appears and raises an eyebrow at the way he clutches your hairband.

“She has a boyfriend, find me everything you can on him.”

“I knew you had the hots for her.” Lyla laughs, disappearing before he can dismiss her.

He waits, packs Gabi’s lunch, slips two dollars under her pillow because he’ll be damned if his daughter believes some magical creature doesn’t like her, then cleans the kitchen and his bedroom three times over until finally Lyla returns.

“Okay, boss, you’re gonna want to sit down for this.”

Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @miggyoharaswife, @badbishsblog, @aeryns--playground

#meg's writing #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara #the hots for teacher still makes me laugh #Miguel’s pastels #atsv miguel #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara imagine

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winterrrnight · 3 months

Note

Ever since I first read your blurb abt rafe calling reader a goddess, all I can think about is how husband!rafe is such a big bad provider. Like he makes sure wife knows that whatever is his, is hersss, and always putting his card down to pay for everything (loads of shopping sprees) and makes sure wife is happy, taken care of (emotionally, physically, mentally) and comfortable in her own self, their home, etc. And everyone in the whole WORLD knows they are both off limits, like we all know rafe doesn’t play abt his wife 😭. I think im obsessed w this idea bc i want that irl 😫, this blog is my safe space 🫶🏾

part of this little universe <3

OH YES I LOVE EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS!!!! husband!rafe's top priority is his wife and his wife only!!! he's always paying for her, even though I do believe wife!reader would have her own job too (more on that here) (but that of course depends on the reader, that's just my idea), but still, he is the provider, he's always spoiling his wife in the best way possible, buying her gifts literally all the time, suprising her with jewelry, clothes, shoes; whatever the reader loves and prefers.

he takes care of her in every aspect, just as you said. talking about emotionally and mentally, he never ever lets her have a pout on her face, always ready to listen to what she wants to say, being the person she can so easily confide in, with returning all of that back to him too.

talking about physically, he is obsessed, and I mean, OBSESSED, with every inch of her skin. he would kiss the ground she walks on if he could. he's always touching her in one way or the other, if they're out, they are holding hands, or his arm is around her shoulders or her waist, or his hand in his back pocket, no matter what, he needs that closure.

and if they're in their own private space, he'll kiss whatever part of her skin he can. he loves peppering kisses over her face, her neck, her shoulders, her belly, her chest, her thighs, her calves, her ankles... oh he's doing that and he's murmuring gentle praises always to her!!!

rafe doesn't play about his wife and reader doesn't play about rafe either!!!! talking about them in public again, they aren't into that much pda but they're still subtly touching as I said before, it's like 'private but not a secret' type of thing. it's a well established fact that who is rafe cameron's (basically the owner of the entire island) wife, and no one, absolutely no one dares to say anything to her.

whenever they go out, rafe doesn't have any restrictions on reader about what she can or can't wear. he lets her wear anything she wants to, he worships her in it and reminds her she looks like a goddess, and if he catches someone staring at her in the wrong way, you best know he's breaking that person's jaw.

awwww omg that is SUCH a sweet thing to say!!! 🥹🥹💗💗 I'm so glad my blog feels like your safe space, you're welcome here literally any time!!! 💘💘💘

send me any husband!rafe or rafe/drew/zach thoughts you may have! <3 (sfw only! + slightly suggestive content is okay)

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elysiansparadise · 3 months

Note

Hello!!

I adore your work, you’ve taught me so much! I was wondering if you could do a post about Uranus in the 10th house? ♡

Hello love, thanks for loving what I do. I'm glad you can learn with my posts. 🤍

Uranus in the 10th house

They may have a reputation for being eccentric, original or unconventional. There will be something enigmatic about them that will catch people's attention, mysterious, charming but above all, authentic. There is something fascinating about the way they act and behave that can easily captivate and cause curiosity in others. There is an inclination towards revolutionary aspirations and goals, as many of them want to make a significant difference in the world and often seek to change the status quo in their field of work. People with this position may be attracted to technology, science, engineering, or any field related to advancement and innovation. Likewise, there is the possibility of working on the internet or in positions related to it. The social sciences may catch your attention too. Their interests are so diverse that they can either be indecisive about what area to pursue, lead them to work in many different fields or work in something other than what they studied. What is a fact is that they will always seek independence, even if they have to work with others, the possibility of making their own decisions is something necessary for them. They will not be afraid to confront someone who is unfair, especially if it is a tyrannical boss. They perceive the position of boss as someone who doesn’t just boss around, but is part of the team. Someone who makes improvements not only in results but in the environment of those they work with, a mindset that makes them excellent and unique bosses.

These natives aspire to achieve great things through their work, and it is very likely that many of them work in areas that none of their family members have worked in or in jobs that are unconventional in the eyes of other people. These natives do not pay attention to destructive criticism from other people, "tell me when I ask and maybe I will care more" kind of attitude. One of the goals of these natives is to be as authentic as possible, they hate labels and things that reduce them to being just one thing since that limits them in expressing who they are. They are multifaceted, witty and give the impression of being very self-confident. They tend to choose jobs that allow them to be their own boss, and some of them are likely to have difficulty with very demanding and stressful schedules and environments. Many of these people tend to look for jobs that allow them to express their individuality and creativity, they can gain experience from many different jobs, and if Uranus makes a tense aspect with Mars or Saturn, it is very likely that these natives will change jobs more than once throughout their lives. With Uranus in this house, it allows the native to achieve great things in their work, from a feeling of satisfaction in their lives, many economic gains or even power in some way.

Unlike some placements, this one shows a native does not have aspirations to find empowerment in excessive economic gains or control over others, rather they see success as being able to work on something that they are truly passionate about and that means something to them. It should be noted that despite that, they are not delusional or very unrealistic, as they know and recognize the importance of having a work that makes them profit. They are very rational people, but that mix of their carefree and open-minded personality can charm others very easily. These natives can have a lot of influence on other people without intending to, people see them as admirable people for one or more reasons, but above all, they reach others through their natural sympathy. They are very idealistic and future-oriented people from a young age, and although they like to think big, they can often put a lot of expectations on themselves, and in turn, not see their small achievements by focusing on achieving the big ones.

-> Go back to the masterlist

#astrology #uranus #uranus in the 10th house #10th house #uranus in the 10th #natal chart #birth chart #astro note #astrology observations #astro observations #astro notes #astrology notes #uranus in the 10h #uranus in 10h

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literaila · 4 months

Note

Hey, I don’t know what you make of love triangles but I’ve always wondered how Typical Family would look like if reader once had a “not so obvious” crush on Geto and the two almost looked like a couple except Geto only saw her as a friend and Satoru doesn’t actually start to “see” reader until he sees how broken up she is after Geto’s betrayal. Kind of looks like the thing between Sasuke/Sakura/Naruto (ahem Except Sakura takes the less toxic path). You don’t have to indulge in this nor does it have to be canon to your original story but I’m just curious 🌚

now i dont think satoru was ever jealous of suguru because 1. suguru is all-knowing and 2. suguru is a literal big brother to you and there is only platonic admiration there.

but. you know who satoru is jealous of? nanami kento.

okay, there’s really no arguing—the boy needs a haircut.

he also needs to stop letting you hang off of him, and taking you out to dinner (because you find his interest in food a bit bizarre, and funny), and making you laugh all of the goddamn time.

satoru may be the strongest, the prettiest—but he has the disadvantage of being older than you. it’s not often yaga sends the two of you somewhere together—or any of the first years with the seconds.

and it’s just not fair, okay?

the only reason you even train with satoru is because he’s the only person who can see your technique, the only one who has a fair fight.

in fact, the only reason satoru gets to hang out with you at all is because you like everyone else. your classmates like suguru and shoko—and tolerate satoru.

and maybe it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth when he sees you standing a little bit too close to nanami. maybe it makes him feel like his world could collapse—disappear—right in front of him.

he does not want to endure being subjected to your schoolgirl crush on a boy who can’t even be bothered to cut his hair. and what would you see in him anyway? are brown eyes preferable to his outer-worldly blue ones? is satoru’s hair just not yellow enough?

…is nanami your type?

all of this to say, it’s definitely not satoru’s fault that he just accidentally threw nanami across the courtyard.

it’s the boys fault, obviously, for daring you to wish him good luck, for saying something so funny before they began that his smug face is still so pleased from making you laugh.

it’s not satoru’s fault.

but he does realize his mistake when instead of aweing over him like he’d wanted—you rush to nanami.

satoru is standing there, a rare frown on his face, looking down at his hands like they’re going to give him some answers.

“are you taking your anger out on the first years, now?” suguru asks, dryly, looking over to where you’re checking nanami’s pupillary response.

“don’t know what you’re talking about,” satoru grumbles, feeling even more betrayed.

what does that kid offer than he can’t?

“you know you could just talk to her, right? you don’t need to beat nanami up to prove a point.”

“if he wasn’t so weak i wouldn’t have—“

and then you’re walking back to them, nanami’s arm slung over your back as you half carry him. his face is already puffing up. “where’s shoko?”

you give him a look with unbridled rage. satoru can already feel the scolding coming on.

“i think she had a meeting with yaga, or something,” satoru answers, giving you his best innocent look.

it does nothing.

suguru inspects nanami. “do you need help?”

“no,” you frown at the boy hanging on you and sigh. “i’m taking him to the infirmary. i don’t know where yu went, but if you see him will you tell him that we left?”

“sure.”

suguru nudges satoru. “uh, yeah. we’ll tell him.”

you nod sternly at them both. “thank you.”

and then you’re walking away, even closer to nanami than you were before.

satoru is already pouting. it doesn’t take much.

“you’re stupid, you know that?”

“he asked me to—!”

“he wanted to learn. not get a concussion for no reason.”

satoru waves a hand. “he wont even remember it tomorrow.”

suguru is smirking at him, looking like he knows something that satoru doesn’t. “because he has brain damage?”

“because shoko will heal him.”

suguru only shakes his head. “i’m going to find haibara. he probably got lost again.”

satoru nods but remains there, with his arms crossed.

seriously, nanami kento of all people?

meanwhile, you’re lugging kento up onto one of the tables in the infirmary, feeling like you should’ve forced gojo to carry him the whole way.

you would’ve—if the sight of him didn’t make you want to rip your hair out.

…for a multitude of reasons, of course.

“okay. you okay? how’s your head?”

“bruised.”

you snort, pushing his hair back so you can see the black eye that’s already developing. at least it won’t get the chance to turn purple, you think.

“i’m sorry. i don’t know why gojo did that.”

kento laughs, leaning again away from your hand. you wonder if it’s his possible concussion, or if what you said was really all that funny.

you’ve only gotten him to laugh like… three times.

“you can tell him that i’m not interested in stealing you away.”

“gojo?”

he nods.

“why would i tell him that?”

nanami’s eyes closed. he looks like he’s aged years in the last hour. “are you naturally ignorant, or are you trying to distract me?”

you cross your arms. “what do you mean?”

“whatever’s going on between you and that white haired freak, just leave me out of it.”

“going on? there’s nothing going on. gojo is just an idiot—“

“seems like it’s spreading.”

“are you sure you’re okay, ken? i think you’re going crazy.”

nanami sighs. you can practically see his eyes rolling under his eyelids. “where’s shoko?”

you look around, biting your lip. “i don’t know… i thought she’d be here by now. i’ll go check the classrooms.”

he nods.

“don’t fall asleep, okay? i mean it.”

“just hurry.”

and you turn around the door, more questions running through your head than when you walked in.

satoru is still standing there, contemplating his life choices (of which there have been few) when you’re running back across the courtyard.

but you slow as you near him, your eyes filled with intent.

and maybe he was waiting for this.

“you asshole,” you say, hitting him on the shoulder—which he allows because any moment of you touching him is one that satoru wants to savor. “what were you thinking?”

he stands there, completely still, for just a moment more. you’re here now. with him. who’s with nanami then?

still, he shrugs. “i just forgot how weak he was.”

“oh, you forgot? you forgot that it was training and kento isn’t some special grade curse you—“

“is he dead?”

“what? why would you say that?”

“if he was really a special grade curse he’d already be dead.”

“you’re so arrogant,” you grind out, shaking your head at him. “and reckless! kento probably has a concussion.”

“then why aren’t you looking after him?”

“i—what?”

“why are you here yelling at me,” satoru gestures to himself, a grin forming on his face. “instead of making sure that he’s okay?”

“i—“ your mouth opens. then closes. “i went to go look for shoko and i didn’t think that you…” you shake your head again, frowning.

satoru just smiles at you.

he likes you a bit flushed and angry anyway.

“stop smiling at me like that!”

“what? i’m not allowed to smile now?”

“no. after today you’re not allowed to do anything. you’re lucky i’m such a good person or else you’d be six feet under—“

“you expect me to believe that you would actually kill me?”

“if i didn’t have a moral obligation, yes.”

satoru laughs.

“shut up,” you say, hitting him again. “i’m angry enough that i could do it.”

he shakes his head, slinging his arm around your shoulder. he has to make up for all of the time that nanami got to cling to you—has to repossess this, or he might go insane.

“that’s not why i’m laughing.”

“get off of me.”

“you wouldn’t kill me,” satoru whispers, right in your ear, delighting in a shiver that you can’t hold back. “even if you could. you like me too much to do it.”

you push him off of you, scowling. “i do not like you—“ you insist, only slightly breathless. “you just beat up my friend for no reason.”

“friend?”

you scoff, crossing your arms and looking up at satoru like he’s a demon sent straight from hell—just to torment you.

have you ever looked at nanami like that?

no, satoru thinks, you haven’t.

“yes, friend,” you repeat, rolling your eyes, “i know you’re unfamiliar with the concept but really. why is everyone acting so weird today?”

satoru’s grin is almost blinding. there’s no one else you get so worked up over. no one else who you would pause just to yell at.

“c’mon,” he says, instead of answering. he pushes himself back onto you, pulling you close by your waist. “i’ll look for shoko with you. you can tell me about how much you like me on the way.”

“gojo satoru, i will still murder you—“

166 notes · View notes

stardustprompts · 8 months

Text

vengeful - v.e. schwab sentence starters change tenses/pronouns as needed !! some lines have been edited for clarity / length / ease of roleplaying tw : death , violence , language , mental health

‘what a fucking cliche.’

‘envy really doesn’t suit you.’

‘don’t you turn that knife on me unless you plan to use it…’

‘you should have let it go.’

‘you can’t just do that to me!’

‘you’ve been gone for hours.’

‘you never said I had to play fair.’

‘that’s a risk I’m willing to take.’

‘you look like a narc.’

‘it feels like dying.’

‘people have an idea of pain. they think they know what it is, how it feels, but that’s just an idea. it’s a very different thing when it becomes concrete.’

‘I did this. I did this to you.’

‘I am alive because of you.’

‘you think I’m playing god? fine, you play, (name). you decide, right now, who should live. us, or them?’

‘it’s a big world. you’re not the only one with talents.’

‘isn’t it silly to lie when we both know the truth?’

‘I think sometimes you make the easiest choice instead of the right one.’

‘make me the villain of that night, (name). wash you hands of any blame.’

‘a promise you can’t keep is just another lie.’

‘I don’t want you to save me. I want to save myself.’

‘I warned you when we met, I wasn’t a good person.’

‘killing me won’t bring her back either.’

‘think hard. we all have to live with our choices.’

‘the next time you point a gun at someone, make sure you’re ready to pull the trigger.’

‘we survived. that's what makes us so powerful.’

‘blood is always family, but family doesn’t always have to be blood.’

‘not all family is blood, right? sometimes we have to find a new one. sometimes we get lucky, and they find us.’

‘this isn’t a stupid game. it’s my life.’

‘are you used to getting what you want?’

‘hasn’t it occurred to you that I can protect myself?’

‘in this world, in my world, people get hurt. they die.’

‘people die in every world. I’m not going anywhere.’

‘you want to be more, (name)? prove it.’

‘they may think they’re kings but we’re the power behind the throne.’

‘i’m not a fucking coat, (name). you don’t get to check me at the door.’

‘where I go, you go. we’re in this together. step for step.’

‘did you always know that you had what it took to end a life?’

‘I thought it would be hard, but in that moment, nothing was easier.’

‘you were never one to dwell on the past. I loved that about you, the way things always just rolled off.’

‘every end is a new beginning.’

‘I underestimated you once. I don’t intend to do so again.’

‘the only difference between us is that you naively insist on preserving what I know should be destroyed.’

‘I played god once and it did not end well.’

‘oh no, it will never work between us.’

‘sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt, you just looked sad.’

‘while I admire how far you’ve come, the fact is, you’re tracking mud into my home.’

‘we can’t shape our past. only our future.’

‘don’t you ever wonder if it’s our fault?’

‘life is more than an equation. a person is more than the sum of their parts.’

‘normal is overrated.’

‘A\a magician doesn’t reveal his secrets.’

‘every power has its limits.’

‘we don’t decide who lives and who dies.’

‘now who’s letting their ideals cloud their judgement?’

‘how quickly we devolve. people become animals the moment they are caged.’

‘if you were superhuman, what would your power be?’

‘ignorance is only bliss if you want to get caught.’

‘i’m still here, still doing what I can, because I want to keep people safe.’

‘never underestimate a woman.’

‘I thought I could save him. I tried. but it didn’t work.’

‘power belongs to those who take it.’

‘sharks come swimming when you make a splash.’

‘that’s quite a talent you have there.’

‘I only hope you’re ready to do the right thing,’

‘you help me, and I’ll help you.’

‘everything’s got a limit. you should find yours.’

‘I don’t feel anything.’

‘oh, sorry, if you thought this was a girl’s-night-out kind of thing where we get drunk and bond, I’ll have to pass.’

‘why settle for one weapon when you can have an arsenal?’

‘the life I had is gone. there’s no getting it back.’

‘the life I had is gone. there’s no getting it back. i’d rather make a new one. a better one.’

‘I thought you were done with hiding.’

‘people can see an awful lot, and believe none of it.’

‘why sit around sulking when you could hurt the people who hurt you?’

‘let’s talk about revenge.’

‘there are limits. I can’t stop nature. can't change it’s course.’

‘whatever’s happened to you, however you’re hurt, you’ve done it to yourself.’

‘oh, I like to think I have a great deal of nerve.’

‘if you had a damn bit of sense you would have run.’

'knowledge may be power, but money buys both.’

‘sometimes subtlety is overrated.’

‘when people stay in the dark, it’s easier to make them disappear.’

‘I don’t want to survive, I want to thrive.’

‘what now? you gonna throw yourself a fucking party?’

‘if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you had something against me.’

‘if I wanted you dead, you would be.’

‘whatever you’ve heard, it’s probably true.’

‘is there anyone who doesn’t want to kill you?’

‘how many excuses will you find to vindicate your own stubbornness?’

‘careful is a calculated risk. and I’m very good at making those.’

‘the truth is, there will always be someone stronger than you.’

‘you do what you can. you fight, and you win, until you don’t.’

‘once upon a time, power was determined by linage—- the age of blood. then it was determined by money—- the age of gold. but I think it’s time for a new age. the age of power itself.’

‘let me guess, I’m either with you or against you?’

‘you always preferred being predator to prey.’

‘we just have to lie low until it’s over, and then—’

‘when this is over, you and I are going to have words.’

‘it appears that we are evenly matched.’

‘it always comes down to this, doesn’t it? to us.’

#rp sentence starters #rp prompts #rp memes #literature prompts #literature sentence starters #vengeful sentence starters #vengeful prompts #v.e. schwab sentence starters #v.e. schwab prompts

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winstonsns · 4 months

Note

may i request the gang w a reader who has bpd? like, frequent mood swings, etc etc? tysm 💕

the gang with bpd!reader (request)

authors note: bpd stands for borderline personality disorder, in which the person has long patterns of unstable emotions. could last for weeks or even months, basically episodes. i’m not that educated on this subject, so sorry if this is offensive. enjoy 💗

includes ponyboy, johnny, soda, darry, dally, two-bit and steve

word count: 2.1k

warnings: depression, fights, slightly suggestive

PONYBOY CURTIS

you haven’t been in the right headspace for the past few weeks, so your grades started to slip

ponyboy would try and help you do your homework, even doing your homework for you but you wouldn’t have the energy to even try

but then, you had a test and you tried real hard to get a good grade, studying and stressing all over it for days

after you took the test and got your grade back, seeing it was an A, you suddenly felt better

at the end of the day, you and pony decided to go back to your house to study

he noticed you were talking more and laughing, so he asked you what happened

you smiled and told him you got a good grade on your test, for the first time in a while

you switched the topic and continued smiling, and pony looked at you with love

he was glad that you were feeling better, and he suspected you’d stay happy for weeks

he sometimes gets confused when you randomly switch but doesn’t say much about it

he’ll ask you about it later but not in the moment, especially if other people are there too

he knows you like it when he reads to you, so when you’re feeling upset, he’ll read to you so maybe you’ll feel better

he doesn’t want you to get frustrated if you’re not included in things, so he’ll always invite you to his track meets and will tell you about all the drama that happens if you don’t know about it

when you’re in a depressive state, he’ll help you plan things and start a routine

he just wants you to feel in control so you know what to do and have a sense of purpose

he also asks soda and darry for advice since they know you’re going through stuff, so occasionally they’ll help you out too

JOHNNY CADE

his parents were yelling at him so he went to your house, he knew his parents wouldn’t care

the only thing he was worried about was the fact that you were still in a depressive state, and he didn’t want you to feel more sad because of what he was going through

so when he knocked on your door and you answered, your eyes lit up and you smiled widely

he was shocked and didn’t know why you were so happy, but smiled back at you

you told him you were happy to see him unannounced, but asked why he came by

he told about what happened, so you invited him in and made cupcakes together

he knows what it’s like to be in a depressive state, so he’ll always try and help you feel in touch with the world

he tried to help you focus on things more and really take in information while paying attention

like focusing on how things move or sound, how strong smells are and how loud things are, how specific tastes are sweet, salty, hot, etc

when you’re happy, he tries to keep you like that by randomly checking up on you to see how you’re doing

he’ll also offer to do things for you like carrying or cleaning things for you

he just wants to make things easier for you, but of course that doesn’t always works

johnny loves you and makes sure you know it, always telling you you’re amazing and beautiful, that he appreciates everything you do, etc

SODAPOP CURTIS

you were at soda’s house, waiting for him to come back from work

you weren’t feeling that great but were trying your best to make him think you were at least feeling ok

when you hear the door opening and a creak, you look over to see soda with a dairy queen bag and two drinks

seeing his smile and the fact that he thought about you enough to bring you food made you switch

you got up from the chair and walked over to him, he put down the food

you put your hands and cradled his face while giving him a long kiss, then tracing your hand down his chest

after the two of you pulled away from the kiss, he looked down at you with a smile and said “glad you’re feeling better, sweetheart”

he’s naturally a very bubbly person and is a romantic at heart, you cannot change my mind

he literally worships the ground you walk on and will do that no matter how you’re feeling

if you’re feeling extra bad and hardly have the energy to get out of bed, he’ll take some days off work to spend more time with you

he just wants you to feel good but doesn’t always know how to handle it

he knows what it’s like to feel unheard, so he checks up on you a lot no matter how you’re feeling

when you’re happy, the two of you will go on cute little dates together

he’ll buy you a pretty necklace for your date and it’s an S for his name

when you’re angry, he’ll always try and calm you down without yelling

you try your best to not yell either since both of you know it doesn’t get you anywhere

DARRY CURTIS

you weren’t feeling that good for the past couple weeks ever since pony and johnny ran away

you stayed at darry’s house for a while, he was worried sick about the two boys

then you heard the phone ring, so you looked at darry, and he motioned you to go answer it

you got up off the counter and into the living room, where the phone was ringing loudly

picking up the phone, you said, “y/n l/n, what do you need?”

the person on the other end asked, “is darry curtis there? his brother and friend are in the hospital.”

your eyes went wide and you felt happy that the boys were back, but scared as to why they were in the hospital

you put the phone down without answering back, and ran to darry to tell him what had happened

he yelled for soda to come down since they had to go see pony and johnny in the hospital

he immediately went out the door and drove you two to the hospital, and you went to the floor where pony and johnny were

when you saw pony sitting on the chair, you smiled widely

darry was happy to see you feeling good again, but was still worried about why pony and johnny where there

he can get really impatient and frustrated with you at times but tries to stay calm because you can’t control how you act sometimes

most of the time, he knows when you’re struggling and tries to help you

so sometimes he’ll schedule an emergency therapy if you’re in a really bad mental state for whatever reason

he really cares about you but doesn’t always have the time or patience to try and reason with you

when you’re happy and feeling good, he’ll take you out to different places

sometimes it’s a restaurant and sometimes it’s just a little activity for you two to do together

he really likes cooking, so he’ll make food for you and will try new recipes

he’ll ask you to help him out with cooking since he knows you like to be a part of things

when you’re feeling sad, he tries to get you out of that mindset as soon as possible

he’ll still include you in hangouts in hope that you’ll feel better

DALLAS WINSTON

you were in one of your episodes, specifically one where you were mad all the time, which lasted for a few weeks

you knew you couldn’t do much about it, but dally would always try to get you out of the pissed off mindset

he always tried to make you feel better, even though most of the time, it wouldn’t do anything

he still wanted you to know he loves you, even if you wouldn’t appreciate it in the moment, you would appreciate it later when you were feeling better

today was your birthday, however, so dally took you out for dinner and actually paid

that got you out of your mad mindset, and he saw the moment you switched over to being happy

seeing that might’ve made him the happiest he’s ever been, knowing that he was the one to get you to switch over

you smiled and apologized for how you acted a few days ago, the two of you got into an argument

he brushed it off and said it was okay, and the two of you continued your dinner

when you were in your depressive episodes, he would help you shower, eat and go on walks since you hardly had the energy to get up

he would bathe you and buy you meals so you could eat

making you go outside at least every few days, the two of you would go on walks since he wanted you to get fresh air

when you were feeling mad, and you would feel that way for weeks, he would mostly stay away even though it was difficult for him

you were feeling happy and told him that if you were being all pissy at him, he should just not talk to you

you didn’t want to ruin your relationship or say something you didn’t mean, so you don’t him not to interact with you at those times

he still would, though, he would do little check ups on you to see if you were feeling okay, or if you wanted anything

if you were happy, he tried to keep you in that state for as long as he could

he thought you would stay happier if he gave you things, a lot of attention, and was overall with you more

it did work for a bit, until you randomly switched over, but he didn’t understand why

he would get impatient and frustrated with you at some points, but always managed to push through since he cared about you so much

TWO-BIT MATTHEWS

feeling bad the past couple weeks, two-bit decided to invite you to hang out with the gang

he just wants you to get some fresh air and to socialize with others, since you hadn’t in a few weeks

all of you were getting milkshakes at a diner and were talking

you drank a bit of your milkshake when two-bit started talking

then he made a joke about someone at another table, and of course everyone laughed, including you

he looked to you and smiled, weirdly proud of himself for getting you to feel better

he’d always try to make jokes even if you weren’t feeling the best

when you aren’t feeling that well, he’ll bring you to the drive-in so you can spend time together and just to try to help you feel better

STEVE RANDLE

the two of you were randomly talking while he was on his break at work, you decided to visit him at the DX

both of you were sitting down in the back, eating burgers and drinking soda

he asked you how school was going for you, and your eyes lit up

you started moving your hands around a lot and kicking your feet, talking about a fun project you were working on with your friends

he listened and continued asking questions in order to lengthen the conversation since you seemed excited

you didn’t think much about how you were down and now you were happy, so you started talking about some drama between a boy and girl in your class

he was normally the one to talk, but enjoyed hearing you talk more than you normally did

when you’re not feeling the best, he’ll bring you into the DX so you can help him fix up cars

it’s just a new thing for you to learn and to hang out with each other

he’s weirdly smart in some ways, so he’ll occasionally help you with history, since he was always into that

when you were feeling really happy, he’d invite you to hang out with the gang

he knew you appreciated it and would invite you whenever he could

(if you can’t tell, i never have ideas for steve so sorry)

authors note: sorry i’m posting this late! i hope you guys enjoyed reading, sorry if this was offensive or really unrealistic. i’m making a chocolate cake so maybe ill show you guys when im done :3💗

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luffyvace · 8 months

Note

Hello there hope your doing super well ~ . As request are currently open could I please headcanons with law ,sanji, zoro. +feel free to add characters. With a s/O thats super sweet to everyone almost too sweet. Also cute. But some choice to take avngenre of y/n kinddess. And once y/N found out that is all fake. They become like a sad puppy. All sad.

Thanks for your work.💙💜

I’m doing wonderful dear anon<3 thank you for asking! Oh my I’ve never written for law, I don’t know much about him because I’m still at the impel down arc in the anime soo I hope sanji and zoro will be alright~ :)

y/n sounds so sweet! They must be protected!! (Also you used s/o and y/n so I will too, in this case no pronouns will be used ♥︎)

enjoy your hcs love! And thank you for your request! (may be a bit ooc for zoro?)

RORONOA ZORO ⚔️🗡

Zoro and a cute and sweet reader!~

what an adorable oxymoron<3

you love to cuddle and curl up on top of him when he’s sleeping

He’s a big guy so he’s sure to provide warmth

zoro doesn’t get your need to help others and being so kind to people

or how helping others makes you happy

but zoro is emotionally strong—maybe not intelligent but strong

so he knows when to draw the line for you if your accidentally being overly helpful

or if your tiring yourself out/overextending yourself

he brings a sense of balance to you in that aspect

the fact that he can do that for you is comforting and makes you feel protected

which Zoro is protective of you because of how naive you are

Zoro is very wary of strangers for you

your too sweet and assume that person is just having a bad day or that’s they’re natural face

but behind you is your big scary dog (zoro) who is glaring daggers at the person he knows actually has an evil intent towards you

Zoro is there most of the time so he doesn’t let people take advantage of you

but the times he isn’t around?

once he finds out he gonna slice that person into dice and make them return whatever they had you get them, etc

he doesn’t it like it at all and can immediately tell when someone is trying to get over on you

After the situation is handled he drags you away (getting you two lost) and says

“Seriously! You needa be more careful y/n!”

he doesn’t really notice how down you are for a while

until he turns around to ask you something and you sorta have this sad puppy look on your face

”what’s wrong with you?”

he’s not gentle about it or anything but he does care

when you tell him it’s because your sad that everyone your kind to betrays you his protectiveness heightens

”what do you wanna impress those people for when you have the world's greatest swordsman..”

he kinda muttered it to himself

but you heard and immediately perked up

you clang onto his arm and walked all the way back to the sunny like that

(might I mention it took a while since Zoro was leading..you knew the way but you decided to just let him 🤦‍♀️😂💗)

Zoro overall does appreciate what you do for him and the crew tho

how you count his push-ups and bring him the drinks/food you asked sanji to make him

it doesn’t go unnoticed so don’t worry :)

as far as y/n being cute he doesn’t notice every time

or have a big reaction when he does

he only blushes a little sometimes, again, when he notices

it’s easier to make him bashful than it is to make him blush with a cute face/smile

He does think your innocence is a bit cute tho!

…..along with naive, but still cute!

”seriously..how come your always getting yourself into trouble” (he blushes a little and turns his face away, pouting slightly)

VINSMOKE SANJI🧑‍🍳

Sanji x such a sweetheart reader is practically meant to be!!

Your both equally sweet and serving

especially sanji since he was raised in an environment where he had to serve people

you guys always insist on helping each other

your love languages are most definitely acts of service and quality time

you two do each other favors all day

”let me help you!”

”no I’ve got it sit down, relax!”

that conversation goes both ways between the two of you multiple times a day

Sanji loves to cook for you so ask him any time of day!

he never has a problem with it and wants to do it actually!

You two are equally emotional people and probably empathic

you guys feel for other people so you feel the urge to help those in need

your weakness is being too kind and his is being too much of a gentleman

you guys are actually really similar in a sense

which you all don’t mind because you can relate to each other

sanji however knows when to take a break

not to say that you don’t but you just tend to overwork yourself for other people’s sake

to which sanji puts a stop to :)

he runs you hot baths, massages your shoulders and washes your hair

You do the same for him since you’d feel bad if you didn’t

he very much appreciates this

its not every day someone takes care of him

you guys then eat the delicious hot meal he prepared and snuggle up, falling asleep together

You guys also take the chance for vacation every time you see one

Pirates have to be prepared for the worst of adventures on every island

so as soon as you see the opportunity to relax you two leap to have a fun beach day

sanji is absolutely a SIMP for how cute you are

he is SO fond over you and is always gushing and bragging (to zoro) how cute his s/o is

like literally he doesn’t shut up about how adorable you are!

a cute lady with a sweet personality??

yes please.

He definitely warns you after the first few times he sees you getting taken advantage of

it’s a sweet and gentle chat about the dangers in the world and how you can’t trust everyone

even if you don’t trust them! set boundaries and don’t let them walk all over you!

if you feel too many bad people are around don’t give them the benefit of the doubt! find a straw hat and stick with them!!

”y/n-Chan you’ve gotta use your discernment to see who is being mean and who is worthy to trust..!”

like yes some strangers are kind but some will see how sweet you are and use that against you!

absolutely does not let a man take advantage of you and will immediately kick him away

with a women tho he will probably go get robin or nami

maybe even simply take you away and let it go if it’s just a regular woman

but if it’s a pirate who’s trying to back you into a corner yeah he’s for sure getting the straw hat girls

he will offer himself instead and tell you to go get someone from back on the merry/sunny

Or maybe if you can fight he’ll root for you!

not that he likes that fact that another woman is being hurt in the process..

but if he has to choose between his woman and another one that was disrespecting his woman??

”GO MY BEAUTIFUL Y/N-CHWAAAAAN!!!”

as for sad puppy y/n he notices right away and immediately does whatever he can to cheer you up again

he bakes you sweets, runs you a bath, makes you drinks, makes you laugh, buys you whatever you want just to see you smile

and again if it was a guy who did this to you he’s 100% getting the boot 💥💥

your sure to cheer up soon with all that sanji does for you

especially with his warm cuddles n kissses ♡

thank you once again for your requests my love! Today is a very busy day..I have a lot to get out.. 😅

Overall I hope you enjoyed your hcs!

345 notes · View notes

heliads · 2 years

Note

Heyy can I get Four x fem!reader, where four can see sher struggling and offers some private lessons, you can take it from there xo

as a fic writer, i love taking it from there (xo)

masterlist

Four is not particularly suited to kindness. He never has been. That’s part of why he never fit in with the other Abnegation, after all; his inability to carve away pieces of himself to give to others stuck out like a sore thumb. That, and the fact that he hated their two-faced duplicity with a passion so burning that it left him choking on the smoke.

He’s always figured that even if he was Divergent, even if he contained multitudes of other factions within him, he never once showed a shred of Amity, either. Kindness, generosity, none of these have ever described Four. He certainly shouldn’t be wishing for it now.

Yet, when he looks across the Dauntless training room, which is strewn with the fighting figures of initiation’s latest round of transfers, he doesn’t feel that usual call to apathy. Not now, at least. Four had supposed it would come later, when the initial interest of new faces had worn off and he was left with irritation prickling under his skin, that fidgety sort of feeling he gets when people refuse to do what’s good for them.

Four has never been the most patient, even if he is forced to play the long game of waiting and hiding due to his status as a Divergent. It makes him insufferable, or so he’s been told. Usually, Four just assumes he’s better off alone and not reaching out to anyone. Fewer secrets are shared when no one knows about them in the first place.

That doesn’t explain why he’s ignoring that favored precept of his in favor of staring at one of the initiates yet again. Four tells himself that he doesn’t do favorites, that he treats all of the trainees with the same blunt criticism and harsh words. It makes it easier that way. He once knew a few instructors who would place bets on their favorites, but they always ended up losing more than their money when their chosen trainees didn’t make the cut.

Dauntless may not be a place that encourages its pupils to choose safety over fun, but Four always betrayed that particular principle while leading initiation. He’s only been at it for a year or two, he can’t afford any screw ups now. That’s why he would do well to ignore that one initiate in the corner. It would be his best choice, but for some reason, it’s the one path he refuses to travel.

As if Four has ever been known for his rational thought. There’s a reason he’s not in Erudite, after all, why he scorned every faction one after another until he could only ever end up here in Dauntless. Dauntless, where at last he’s the one in power, where he’ll risk his life again and again because at least in this faction people wear their hatred firmly on their sleeves instead of hiding it behind some ambiguous political game.

Perhaps Four isn’t one for politicking, then, but that’s no surprise. He does what he pleases, he likes who he likes, and when Y/N L/N happens to glance up at him when she finishes a round in the fighting ring, she doesn’t look remotely shocked to see him looking at her again. No one is, but then again, no one notices Four’s attention except Y/N herself.

Y/N is a transfer. Y/N is an initiate. Y/N is the one person that Four really should be avoiding, but can’t seem to manage it. He doesn’t know what it is about her that keeps calling his interest back to her again and again like the snap of a hypnotist’s fingers, but his heart refuses to explain. His head has tried to make amends, but his heart keeps on traitorously beating, still seeking her out after every time Four promises himself he won’t trust that magnetic pull to her again.

She never follows up on his attention, which makes her better than him, at least. She knows the rules. She’s also a little bit afraid of him, Four thinks, which hurts him more than it should. Y/N seems to be frightened of nothing in this world but him, and that is why he can’t bear to look away. Should he glance over at her once and find her willing to stand near him, maybe he would be able to guide his breathing back to a normal state, his heartbeat to return to rest once more.

It has yet to happen, however, and Four thinks he knows why. See, he knows what he thinks when he encounters Y/N, the curious storm of emotions all centrally positive that linger around his heart, but she has absolutely no idea of that. She wouldn’t, because whenever Y/N looks at Four or any other Dauntless training instructor, she thinks not of them as people but as physical manifestations of her initiation rank. Her rank, which happens to be pretty damn close to failing.

In all his time in this world, all his experience with heroes and cowards, fighters and thinkers, Four has no idea why Y/N’s rank should be that low. He knows what his eyes see, of course; fights lost, punches not thrown, but it makes no sense to him. Four is accustomed to the dropouts of Dauntless initiation, the ones who would rather go live with the factionless than stick through training. They’re nothing like Y/N, not in the slightest.

Those kids, those unwanted former initiates, they’re afraid. All of them, they’re afraid. Terrified to throw a punch for fear of bruising their knuckles, hesitant to step in a ring lest they take more hits than they dole out. They lose before they even try, but that’s not Y/N.

Y/N is brave, like he said. Braver than Four, probably. He would love to see her fear landscape if she could manage to make it past the first round of initiation. It would probably be pretty close to empty, what from the way she stares down even the most dangerous threats without a blink of an eye. Four has a brief terror that he might open her fear landscape just for it to hold him and nothing else, but he forces that thought away just as quickly. He doesn’t know that. Nobody does.

Y/N is brave, and that’s what makes this so hard. If she had half the spirit that she does, if she flinched away from every blow like the others, Four could brush her off like the other trainees. She would blend into the crowds, and he would go throughout his life without this trial of conscience that he’s undergoing now.

That’s not the case, however. Instead, Four looks at her and he sees the strength of Dauntless, the bravery, the need to get ahead. Y/N should be at the top of the rankings, but she isn’t. Four has a theory for that, though. Despite the fact that Dauntless loves to pride itself as the equalizer, that its initiation lets anyone from any background succeed, that simply isn’t the case. At the end of the day, trainees with more experience will pick up skills far faster, and that means they’ll always win.

That’s why cruel Candor and Erudite manage to make the transition so well. Y/N lacks that experience, and so although she’s learning things at an excellent rate, she can’t beat the prior knowledge of the others. Four remembers one time in which she’s been struggling with knife throwing. He had given her one hint and just like that, she was hitting the bullseye every time.

If Four wants to keep Y/N around a while longer, that’s what it’s going to take. More of that advice, more of that help. Y/N has the ability to change this faction just like him. Four just has to make sure that she makes it through initiation long enough to make that work.

Four isn’t supposed to have favorites. He does, it’s her. That’s why, despite days of him telling himself that he won’t get involved, he finds himself making up his mind. Still facing torment in his own head, Four drops by the training room later that evening, hoping some time alone with a punching bag and his own bruised knuckles will clear up his mind.

When he opens the door and sees Y/N there still, practicing her hits, he knows then and there that he has no choice. Four walks briskly through the training hall until he’s by her side. He watches her form for a few moments more; she knows he’s there, he can tell by the stiffness of her shoulders, her guard is already up.

He speaks at last, words echoing around the spacious room. “Punch more from your own strength. You’re pushing the bag, you don’t want to do that. Snap your fist forward instead.”

Four demonstrates with one quick hit. Y/N nods, mirroring him. Four has to bite back a smile. The change is immediate. A voice in the back of his head tells him that if he just stayed a little longer, helped a little more, she’d become a better fighter overnight. It’s not hard to convince himself to linger by her side.

“Good,” he murmurs, “now, try hitting with more combinations. Four hits instead of two. You’ll disorient your opponent.”

Once again, Y/N does as he says, and once again, she does it perfectly. That’s another problem with initiation, Four thinks, it’s impossible to help every student as much as they need, what with the incoming class of transfers growing so rapidly every year.

Y/N practices a while longer, then relents, taking a step back and giving Four a quizzical look. “Why are you doing this? I mean, I appreciate the tips, but I don’t think you do this for every initiate.”

“I don’t,” Four confirms, “maybe I just want to see you win tomorrow. Is that such a surprise?”

Judging by the expression on her face, the answer would be yes. “Last time I checked, you were supposed to make sure everyone had an even playing field. I didn’t think private punching lessons were included in that.”

Four has to try his utmost to smother a laugh. “They’re not. Still, I wanted to.”

“You wanted to,” Y/N repeats contemplatively, “what, you got tired of seeing me get my ass kicked all the time? I know you watch my rounds more than the others, that must be it.”

Four swats her gently on the shoulder. He’s just as surprised about it as she is; nothing they’ve done has brought them close enough for soft friendship. Still, it feels right. Maybe that means something.

“Self-pity doesn’t treat you right,” he says, “I like it better when you’re walking around like you own the place. Sometimes I think you do.”

Y/N laughs. “And melodrama has never been your strong suit. I think I like it, though.”

Four likes it too. He raises a brow, inviting her sarcastic remarks once more. “Does that mean you’ll allow the lessons to continue? You won’t keep pushing me away with your own disbelief?”

“I’m still debating,” Y/N retorts, but she’s grinning and that makes it much better.

Four leaves the punching bag, not her; he walks to the ring instead. Climbing easily up, he extends an arm for Y/N to join him. She takes his hand without a second’s hesitation, and Four has to fight all parts of himself to hide the swarm of warmth that cloaks his insides when he realizes her fear of him is gone, if it was ever truly there at all. Perhaps he was just looking for excuses to stay away, knowing nothing would work for long.

Y/N puts up her fists, interrupting his musing. “So? Are we fighting or not?”

“Of course we are,” Four says, getting into his own opening stance.

After that, he loses himself in the even rhythm of punches and kicks, blows and strikes. Sometimes he calls out tips and tricks, other times he lets Y/N learn from what works well and what doesn’t. Even after the night ends, when their strength gives out and they both walk away with new bruises and old grins, Four knows one thing for certain: this is not the end of Y/N’s time in Dauntless, nor her time with him. No, their story is just starting. It is one that he looks forward to with all his heart.

divergent tag list: @rogueanschel, @with-inked-solace, @gods-fools-heroes, @23victoria, @manyfandomsfanvergent, @ilovexavierthrope

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mellowsadistic · 1 year

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Changing Her Hobbies

Your girlfriend may well have some hobbies and interests that you don't approve of. Perhaps you're worried being into football is making her hang out with the wrong crowd, or maybe you think chess is just too grown-up for a silly little thing like her. Whatever the case, the solution is simple. Just tell her she doesn't like those things anymore, and give her a new list of things she likes to do in their place.

Be firm, as she's likely to get very fussy over this. She might complain that she's the only real authority on herself, or insist that it's impossible for her to start liking something just because you've ordered her to. If that happens, just spank her bare bottom over your knee and remind her that you're her Daddy and you know best. Enforce her new hobbies with a strict discipline program and she'll soon learn to engage in them with a smile.

I promise you the results are worth it. I know a man who used this strategy to radically alter his girlfriend’s personality. He loved her very much, but he was sick and tired of her bad attitude and refusal to accept her place as his inferior. He put it down to the kind of activities she liked to take part in, so with a firm hand and a bit of patience, he changed them to better reflect her immature nature. Here’s a before and after of her hobbies:

Things she used to like:

Playing guitar

Reading classic literature

Trying on stylish clothes

Going clubbing with her friends

Having debates about politics

Playing hockey

Going out for romantic dinners

Things she likes now:

Playing with dolls

Watching Disney channel

Running around naked

Doing the housework

Wetting herself for attention

Practicing ballet

Sucking cock under the table

It was a difficult transition for her. She’d always been a bit of a tomboy, so it wasn’t easy for her to adjust to playing with Barbies and prancing about in a tutu. It wasn’t easy to get used to stripping off all her fashionable clothes and going streaking around the house in the nude periodically either, like a toddler with no concept of modesty. Nor was she keen to spend her time watching TV aimed at tweens when she wasn’t scrubbing the floors, making dinner, or doing the laundry. It was especially hard for her to learn that she liked to give frequent blowjobs (she insisted she hated them for the longest time), and she was in complete denial about her desire to regularly pee her pants for attention. However, with enough corrective punishment, she eventually learned to accept her true self.

These days she pouts at the suggestion of going out partying, but bounces up and down with excitement at the thought of mopping the floor. She has no desire to play guitar, and reading anything more advanced than a picture book would bore her to tears, but she can happily spend the whole afternoon glued to her favourite cartoons or prattling away at her baby doll, rocking it in her arms and changing its nappy (and hoping Daddy doesn’t follow through on his threat to put her in nappies because of all the ‘accidents’ she’s been having). She never talks about politics anymore, partly because she has no idea what’s going on in the world since her Daddy banned her from reading the news, and getting involved in rough and tumble sports like hockey would just be silly for a sweet little pirouetting princess like her. It’s much more fun to put on ballet performances for Daddy and her dollies. Modelling the latest trends is a thing of the past for her too; in fact, it’s a struggle to keep any kind of clothes on her since she’s always wanting to be Daddy’s little nudist - why wear a cute pair of jeans when she could just go bare-bottomed instead? And why would she want to go out to a fancy restaurant for a romantic meal when she could just serve Daddy his dinner herself before crawling under the table to suck his dick while he eats?

Sometimes she slips up. She looks bored while playing with her dolls, or casts a longing look at a guitar in the window display of a music store. She might go too long without wetting herself or forget to smile while she's doing the polishing. When that happens, her boyfriend is always quick to reacquaint her bottom with his hand, or even the paddle. A 'fake it till you make it' policy is important to enforce here. Make your girlfriend pretend to enjoy her new hobbies, and eventually, over time, she'll learn to like them for real. And if not, don't worry, because you won't know the difference!

#mellowsadistic

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duckiemimi · 1 year

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i’ve seen some people say that if gojo didn’t meet geto, he would’ve turned out like naoya. and as open as i am to different interpretations, this is just…plain wrong.

naoya always felt like he had something to prove, despite the overconfidence he typically exhibited. he was born as a prospective successor to the zenin clan (the “true heir,” according to him), but toji was obviously more powerful than he was despite having no CE, and even in the rival clan, gojo was regarded as the child who tipped the balance of the world. naoya had this huge inferiority complex and that lended to his misogynistic tendencies, resulting in him trying to exert his dominance to show that he can live up to his aspirations and be on par with toji and gojo. also, gege made it a point to show how power-hungry the zenin clan was—always keep in mind that naoya grew up in a culture that valued superiority over everything.

gojo, on the other hand, simply is. he’s everything naoya is not—undeniably powerful and full of infinite potential. unlike how the zenin clan was portrayed, we don’t know much about the gojo clan and i think that was done with purpose. the zenin clan had to be introduced because we needed exposition for maki, mai, naoya, and toji (and megumi); we needed to understand how and why they turned out the way they did. gojo is the only gojo clan member we know, implying that we as readers have nothing substantial to learn from the introduction of the gojo clan (at least nothing substantial relating to the plot of the story just yet, nor would it add anything substantial to gojo’s characterization—he can stand as his own character without family background exposition).

naoya and gojo have always been different from the start. naoya looks down on people because of his insecurities disguised as arrogance, while gojo understands he’s treated the way he is because he was born the pinnacle of jujutsu. if gojo “looks down” on people, it’s not out of entitlement, but simply because he is that powerful.

(if anything, for him to put aside his sheer power to yearn for human connection, to want to close the gap between him and his allies—it’s all a testament to how painfully human he is.)

i’m not sure why people think gojo meeting geto prevented him from becoming misogynistic (actually, i do know why they think this way), but i think it’s unfair to dismiss the fact that geto was just as much of a little shit as gojo was. are we forgetting how they were both introduced in the hidden inventory arc? they both dunked on utahime! yea, sure they did it in different ways (gojo being straightforward and snotty, and geto going the roundabout backhanded route), but they were both just as bad as the other, both incredibly insufferable.

i wouldn’t say that it came from a place of insecurity (like naoya); it’s more like they both genuinely thought they were better than other people in general, regardless of circumstance. and they weren’t wrong about that—remember, they were two 16 year old teenage boys who were already classified as special grade sorcerers. of course, they’d be insufferable and annoying! they could’ve literally taken on the whole world together!

yes, geto was a monumental figure in gojo’s life—the memories linger and everything he does afterwards is tinged in geto’s absence, but that doesn’t mean his connection to geto is the only thing that characterizes him. he’s his own person now and he can live without him, despite their history. yes, he carries that grief for life, but since when did grief define you as a person?

#jjk #geto suguru #gojo satoru #satosugu #夏五 #sugusato #gojo #jujutsu kaisen #geto #gego #naoya zenin #zenin clan #also keep in mind im saying he’s not explicitly characterized as misogynistic #im not saying he cant have a certain heteronormative expectation no matter how subtle #but to outright say he’d turn out like naoya is such an incorrect take #they were different since the very beginning not bc geto walked into gojo’s life #stop reducing their characters to fit this heteronormative narrative u have for stsg!!

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kpopfanfictrash · 10 months

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The Ten Days of Ex-Mas (Teaser)

Posting Date: Tuesday, December 19th, 7:00 PM CT

Creative Collaborator: @kithtaehyung FOR THIS AMAZING BANNER!

Genre: Holiday / Second Chance!AU / Hockey!AU

Pairing: Jimin / Reader (F)

Length: One Shot

Synopsis: Three months following the worst break-up of your life, you finally feel ready to start moving on. The world, it seems, has other ideas when you pick up the phone and find your ex-boyfriend calling.

Jimin Park, star right winger of the NHL and (until recently), the love of your life, has a very large problem. Despite the courage he regularly shows on the ice, in his personal life, Jimin is kind of a coward. When you broke up this fall, he could barely admit it. Not to his neighbors. Not to his friends. Not even to his family, who are expecting him home for Christmas. In a desperate plea for more time, Jimin begs you to pretend you’re still dating – and to his surprise, you agree. Faced with a second chance, Jimin is determined not to squander it. If only fixing a relationship were as easy as falling in love.

Author’s Note: Part of the Jingle All the Way collaboration!

Estimated WC: 45K (... whoops; this will probably be multiple parts)

Rating: 18+

Preview: 2,141

Y/N POV

You should have known better than to trust Namjoon with your dating life.

Yoongi never would have put you in this situation. The more level-headed of your two best friends, Yoongi approaches matters of the heart with the same rationality he does everything else. Namjoon, on the other hand, is a great guy – who is notoriously bad at reading other people.

The number of times you’ve been forced to step in and save him from phone scams is astounding. It’s not his fault, really – Namjoon trusts too easily, which doesn’t serve him well in this world. He’s always willing to give others the benefits of the doubt, which gets him into trouble.

And now you, by extension, having accepted the blind date he proposed.

Mike Davis moved into Namjoon’s building two months ago, and Namjoon has been adamant since the start that you two would hit it off.

“He goes to all the same conventions you do,” he assured you last week on the phone.

“Which conventions?” you asked, squinting hard at the wall. “I know you’re not big into nerd culture, Namjoon, so as an FYI – not all cons are considered equal.”

Namjoon rattled off a few you’d attended, impressing you enough to agree despite the initial disinterest. This agreement may have been spurred by tonight being the three-month anniversary of the worst break-up of your life.

Almost as soon as you sat, you realized your mistake. While you may have reached a point where you don’t cry every time your ex’s name is mentioned, the prospect of dating someone else is an entirely different matter. Getting dressed up felt strange, as did traveling to the restaurant and waiting for Mike at the bar.

The fact that Mike called this place a ‘restaurant’ should have been your first clue, as Hat Trick is most definitely a sports bar – specifically, a hockey bar. Had you known (really, you should have known), you wouldn’t have gone, but you were nervous and trying to make a good impression. Upon arriving, you arranged yourself awkwardly on a sticky bar stool and waited seven minutes for Mike to walk in.

Nearly an hour later, you find yourself regretting coming at all. Mike excused himself two minutes ago for the bathroom and as soon as he left, you sagged with relief.

He’s a nice guy, you suppose. Good looking, with light brown curls and dark eyes. You can see why Namjoon thought he might be good for you – Mike is the exact opposite of your ex in many ways. Constantly frazzled, he arrived late to the bar, only to immediately duck outside because he forgot to pay the parking meter. Jimin was the type to unpack his suitcase immediately after reaching the hotel and brought several chargers in case one of them died.

Once the meter was paid, Mike sat down and immediately launched into his entire life story. You suppose you should have been happy about this, since lack of communication ended your last relationship but instead, found yourself overwhelmed.

Mike finally paused for breath once your drinks arrived, allowing you a moment to answer his questions. The moment you said you ran a pretty popular cosplay TikTok, Mike instantly shifted from arrogant to insecure.

“I can’t believe you came,” he exhaled with a shake of his head. “When Namjoon showed me your picture, I said no way would you go out with me. You’re way too beautiful.”

Somewhat awkward, you laughed. “Don’t try and get me to leave, now, Mike.”

His eyes widened, not catching your sarcasm and it took several moments to get back on track. Everything since has been downhill, so when he excused himself for the bathroom, all you felt was relief.

Digging through your purse, you pull out your phone and swipe to the group chat.

Y/N: Namjoon, WHAT possessed you to set me up with this man [7:46 PM]

Yoongi’s reply comes immediately.

Yoongi: told you it was too soon [7:46 PM]

Namjoon’s ellipses join in.

Namjoon: what! Why? What happened?? Mike didn’t try something on you, did he? [7:47 PM]

Y/N: no, no – nothing like that [7:47 PM]

Y/N: he just keeps saying how *amazing* I am and how he doesn’t know why I’m on this date at all [7:47 PM]

Yoongi: dude [7:48 PM]

Y/N: EXACTLY [7:48 PM]

Before Namjoon can respond, the bartender changes the channel and an all-too-familiar name blares over the speakers. Slowly, you look up, and all thoughts of Mike fade, faced with NHL coverage.

Nope, no – absolutely not.

Leaning over the counter, you lightly tap the bartender. “Hi.” Brightly, you smile. “First off, could I have another glass of white wine? And then, maybe… could you change the channel?”

Glancing around, the guy shakes his head. “Yes, to the wine, but no, the channel,” he says with a shrug. “Half the people in here came to watch the game. Pre-show coverage is part of that.”

With an apologetic nod, he grabs a rag and disappears. Sinking back in your seat, you stare at your hands, clasped tightly together. Your spot at the bar puts you in the unfortunate position of hearing each word the announcers say crystal-clear.

“Well, Josh, what chance do you think the Blackhawks have tonight?”

The silver-haired man beside him bobs his head. “Steve, I’d say their chances are pretty darn good. You’ve seen this team’s early games. Their first line is strong, especially now that Park’s back.”

“Oh, absolutely – Jimin Park has been crucial in the last couple of games. He was sorely missed last season.”

“Ha! You can say that again.”

Trying to hide your wince, you clasp your hands tighter as a fresh glass of wine is set down. “Thanks,” you mutter, downing half in one gulp.

Immediately, your plans for later tonight shift to accommodate another bottle of wine. Movement catches the corner of your eye, and, despite yourself, you watch the montage of star right winger, Jimin Park, tearing his way down the ice. Shamefully, you recognize every shot since, although you broke up in September, you continued to watch every game.

“One of the most talked about moments last year in hockey was the late check on Park by Blues player, Brent Howard,” continues the announcer, Josh. “His helmet came loose when he hit the boards, and he went down hard on the ice. Park suffered a sprained knee and herniated a disc in his neck. A complicated surgery took him for most of the season, only starting to skate with the team again over the summer.”

Hearing the trauma recounted with such callousness, you find yourself gripping your wine glass tighter than before.

“I don’t think anyone ever expected Park to play again,” agrees the other announcer, Steve. “It’s a damned miracle he’s back on the ice – but to return and be this good? Park has always been one of the best right wingers in the league, but I’d say he’s the best offensive player on the ice right now.”

“A bold claim!” laughs Josh. “But I might just agree. Even Jungkook Jeon on the Rangers hasn’t been matching Park in assists.”

“Exactly! I mean, look at the numbers. Last year, the Blackhawks barely made the playoffs and now, they’re first in the Western Conference.”

“Truly amazing, given the nature of his injury last November. I don’t know how familiar you are with herniated discs, Steve, but –”

Mike slides back onto his stool. Grateful for the distraction, you turn fully to face him. Having already lived through the injury once, you have no need to reminisce. Replacing your phone in your purse, you smile gamely at Mike.

“So,” you say, attempting to save the conversation. “Namjoon mentioned you like conventions? What fandoms are you a part of?”

“Oh.” Mike loosely shrugs. “I doubt you’ve heard of any of them.”

At his dismissive tone, you stiffen. Your experience with the male side of fandom is always a toss-up. “Well, there are a lot of them. Any that are more mainstream?”

He considers. “Marvel?”

Stunned, you blink once or twice. Marvel has to be one of the biggest fandoms on the planet, let alone in the country. Even if you weren’t deep in the convention circuit, you’d have heard of Marvel.

“Yeah,” you say slowly. “I think I’ve heard of that.”

“Cool, cool.” Mike nods. “Namjoon said you do cosplay – and showed me your TikTok! You know, you’d make a great Wonder Woman.”

You can practically feel your jaw tighten. “That’s DC, not Marvel. But thanks.”

Silent, you add for nothing. While you love Wonder Woman and have, in fact, cosplayed her many times, men usually only request her for one reason and that’s the skimpy outfit. Whenever you cosplay as circa 2010 Wonder Woman in pants, they’re decidedly less interested. By now, you’ve learned only to pick your characters based on personal interest.

“Have you ever cosplayed?” you ask.

Unbidden, your gaze slides to the TV. Commercial break. Stifling your twinge of disappointment, you refocus on Mike.

“Nah.” His nose wrinkles, and your stomach sinks further. “I don’t do that stuff.”

“Stuff?”

Hearing your tone, his eyes widen. “I mean, it’s cool for you. I saw your TikToks and you look amazing. I’d just look dumb,” Mike says, attempting a laugh.

Sweetly, you smile. “I don’t know. My ex used to cosplay with me, and no one ever laughed at him.”

Admittedly, this is something of a low blow since your ex-boyfriend is Jimin Park, but either Namjoon didn’t tell him, or Mike doesn’t care. Which – if that’s so, maybe Mike deserves more credit than you gave him.

“Ah.” He nods, taking a sip of his beer. “Have you ever thought about cosplaying as Wonder Woman, though?”

Your smile vanishes. Then again, maybe you’ve given him exactly the right amount of credit.

“I have,” you say. “But more recently, I’ve been cosplaying Dimension 20 characters. It’s kind of niche, but my last character was Sundry Sidney from A Starstruck Odyssey. You know – giant machine gun arm, roller skates and a mechanical eye. Oh, and a ‘fuck erotica ann’ button, of course.”

Mike’s smile freezes. “Why… would you dress like that?”

“Because it’s fun.” Finishing your glass of wine, you toss a few bills on the counter and stand. “Well, it’s been nice meeting you, Mike, but I think we’d be better off as friends. Don’t you agree?”

Even with the answer right there in the question, still he looks flummoxed.

“I…”

“Or acquaintances,” you add, pulling on your pea coat. “Or nothing at all. Whatever you prefer.”

Slinging your purse on your shoulder, you wave at the bartender and start to leave. You only make it several steps before Mike mutters something beneath his breath – loud enough that you hear.

“Stupid,” he mutters. “This is why you don’t date women like her, Mike.”

You come to a stop. Really, you should keep going. Common sense – and Namjoon’s HOA – depend on you being the bigger person and walking out. But your therapist has said you need to work on communicating, even when the message is something the other person won’t like.

Turning around, you tap Mike on the shoulder.

He glances upward, surprised – and then reddens, realizing you heard.

“Yep, I heard,” you say shortly, retracting your hand. “Was your muttering supposed to be secret?”

Mike opens, then closes his mouth, like a fish.

“What did you mean, ‘women like me?’” you demand, folding your arms. “Ones with self-respect? Or hobbies? Women who know more about a subject than you do?”

Behind the counter, the bartender snort-laughs, rising in your esteem despite the whole TV channel thing.

Mike stares at you, stunned. He seems to grow a pair in that moment though, straightening to face you on his stool. “Women with sticks up their asses,” he blurt.

Stifling an eye roll, you lean closer. “Listen, Mike,” you say, placing one hand on the counter. “If you think you can hurt my feelings – think again. Someone broke my heart three months ago, so nothing you say now will remotely compare. Do you really want to know why women like me won’t date you?”

The furrow between his brows deepens, and you take this as a sign to continue. Leaning even closer, you lower your voice.

“It’s because you’re insecure,” you say softly. “Giving someone a compliment and putting yourself down in the same sentence isn’t nice, it’s awkward. Not to mention, you’re sexist,” you add, watching him stiffen. “Telling me – a two-time Comic Con trivia champion – that I wouldn’t know Marvel is wild. Oh, and you’re a snob. Tabletop games are awesome, and cosplay is fun. Have a good night – I paid for your drink.”

With that, you turn around and march out the door to a smattering of applause from your new favorite bartender.

[ TO BE CONTINUED ]

#bangtanarmynet #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #jimin fanfic #jimin fanfiction #jimin au #bts au

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