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simplepotatofarmer · 3 years

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technoblade: a takedown - pt. 1

(not clickbait)

aka i go over every argument people make against c!techno one by one and determine whether they’re valid, false, or a mixture of both. i rewatched every single stream/video, including those on his alt channel, so i could approach this with the most information possible. i’ll be breaking this up into parts because there’s just too much otherwise. all about the characters unless stated.

techno believes in a ‘dog eat dog’ world - false

this is an argument i see used a lot when people discuss techno so i wanted to address it first. luckily, the stream in which he says this is only his fifth stream on the server. there’s one major reason why this argument falls apart and one minor reason that isn’t objective like the first.

first and most importantly: techno has never acted on this. even at the beginning - which is when this comment was made - he was helping his allies, from building railings to keep them from falling, making a potato farm, and all the gear he grinded for to equip his allies in pogtopia with. moving forward, he’s also helped out plenty of people: giving tommy a place to stay and items, telling phil to reach out to ranboo after doomsday, as well as giving both tommy and ranboo food when asked. there’s more, of course, but the point is he’s never once followed up on this statement. he teamed up with quackity to stop the egg. he spoke to niki about how he was giving anarchy a bad reputation because of the violence and wanted to take a different approach which he has.

when people use this argument to insist that techno is the villain, it doesn’t hold up because it’s merely taking one statement he made and upholding it as a main part of his character when his actions and later statements have shown that he doesn’t actually believe in this randian view point. objectively, i can’t see how this argument can extend beyond ‘well, he said it’. regardless of what he said during the pogtopia arc, he’s said the opposite later - wanting everyone to live free with no oppression or imperialism - and has never acted on it nor brought it up later. this take honestly seems disingenuous and was in fact the driving factor of this post.

second and not as critical, techno mentions multiple times during each of his first streams that he’s not sure who all is on his side. this is a reoccurring point for him. he makes the comment about wanting a dog eat dog world during the red festival stream, while speaking to bad and sam. the first part of the conversation is techno asking about state secrets since they’re (as far as techno knows) on manberg’s side. bad mentions schlatt killing cats and techno launches into a spiel about massive anarchy and the weak being huddled in fear, asking them how does that sound. bad says as long as there’s no cat murder, perhaps. bad then asks techno what his ‘single issue’ is and techno responds that he wants to destroy the government. to me, the context of the conversation, who he’s speaking to and what his opinion of those people is, is an important thing to consider.

techno’s ‘we’ll burn that bridge when we get to it’ comment means he was always going to betray pogtopia/l’manberg - valid but not how you think it is

i’ve seen people say that techno saying ‘we’ll burn that bridge when we get to it’ is a clear sign that he was always intending to betray pogtopia/l’manberg which, yeah?

but i wouldn’t call it a betrayal.

he says the ‘we’ll burn that bridge when we get to it’ line at the end of the ‘eve of revolution’ stream while he’s talking to quackity, ponk, and sam. the conversation is as follows:

techno, to quackity: i’m glad we could get to know each other. i heard you’re on our side now. i heard you betrayed schlatt.

quackity: yeah, that’s right. are you betraying anyone?

techno: no. i would never betray my personal ideals.

[some chatter from ponk and quackity]

sam: what does that mean? what if the people you’re fighting along [sic] have different ideals than you, though? doesn’t that mean you’d betray them?

techno: listen... we’ll burn that bridge when we get to it.

then techno states that he ‘said what he said’ when sam questions him about his choice of metaphor.

he actually uses the same malaphor at the beginning of the ‘revolution’ stream when they (quackity and tubbo) question him again and in that case techno definitely avoids the subject which isn’t a good thing but considering everyone was so worked up about the possible traitor, i can completely understand.

overall, techno is extremely upfront about his intentions. yes, there is definitely some miscommunication between all the parties because none of them were on the same page but that doesn’t make techno the bad guy here nor does it mean he betrayed anyone. he was upfront about his intentions from the start.

in his first two streams, he makes a joke that if they happen to set up a new government/president that he would just take that one down and it would be a never-ending cycle. over and over, he says that he wants to do destroy the government/manberg. when tommy mentions taking it back, techno says, ‘what do you mean, take it back?’ though this kind of gets lost in the middle of everything else - dsmp (lack of) communication strikes again.

the takeaway that i see here a lot is that techno always intended to betray them because he knew tommy wanted to take back l’manberg and knew that he would go against them if they set up a new government. and this is true to an extent! he did know that tommy wanted l’manberg back and he did know that he would go against them if they set up a new government. but wilbur was also telling techno that he was on board with the whole anarchy thing.

none of them were on the same page and that surely led to a big chunk of what happened and hurt feelings on both sides but that doesn’t mean techno betrayed anyone or that he was the bad guy for doing exactly what he said he would do from day one.

techno destroying (l’)manberg was wrong - it’s complicated

the first thing to address here is that for most anarchists, destroying a government isn’t a bad thing. in fact, taking down the government/state is basically our goal. now, i don’t speak for all anarchists, of course, but overall the general feeling is that violence in the name of overthrowing an oppressive government is not inherently bad. there’s no way to do a one-for-one here because it’s minecraft but the general sentiment remains. so while violence enacted against the state is a bad thing for people who aren’t anarchists, techno has no reason to and would not view it as inherently bad.

but it did hurt people and techno himself acknowledges that fact. he’s acknowledged what he’s done when confronted about it. he hasn’t said he was wrong because understanding that it was hurtful doesn’t mean he believes he was wrong. to him, he wasn’t. destroying what he viewed as an oppressive system was the right thing to do, even if it hurt people.

(also this isn’t any kind of meta but i think it needs to be pointed out that wilbur had already set off the tnt and techno summoned two killable mobs which did plenty of damage but he didn’t say wilbur was the great who came before them for no reason.)

again, this is going to be the most controversial part of this post because i don’t believe destroying government is a bad thing and i don’t believe techno is wrong for believing that as well. there are better ways to address the problem and techno is adjusting his tactics but if another government was to be established, i don’t believe he would be in the wrong to destroy it because he’s an anarchist.

the tl;dr of this section honestly could just be summed up with ‘watch less marvel, read more ursula k. le guin’.

‘techno is the villain because he called tommy the hero’ - so very false

this is a take i’ve seen that to this day i don’t understand.

techno calling tommy the hero does not mean he was setting himself up as the villain in any capacity. it was merely pointing out tommy’s habit of putting himself at the forefront of almost every conflict, trying to shoulder everything, no matter how it hurts tommy himself. the speech was directed at that and nothing else. it doesn’t mean techno is the villain, it doesn’t even mean there is a villain; there are more stories to be told than the classic hero-villain and the hero-villain narrative doesn’t always apply to stories. (i’d certainly argue that it doesn’t apply to the dream smp but that’s a different conversation.)

techno is to blame for tubbo’s death - false

i think this one has been done to death but what would a techno post be without it?

no, techno is not to blame.

he said over and over that he was outnumbered and believed that if he had done anything, everyone would’ve turned on him and ‘torn him to shreds’. even if that wasn’t the case, it is what techno believed. he had no reason to think that he could take the entire crowd out until he actually fired the rocket launcher. and remember, he tested the rocket launcher earlier during the festival on niki (who volunteered) and it didn’t kill her. when he realized the amount of splash damage it did, he gives a surprised laugh and then begins firing into the crowd.

as for saying he was under ‘mild’ amounts of peer pressure, techno has a habit of minimizing. not just the things he’s done, but often situations that he’s been in that were stressful. he stated that he deals poorly with high stress situations and one of the cognitive distortions that can come with anxiety is minimization. techno doesn’t actually believe it was ‘mild’ peer pressure - it was a situation that caused him enough distress that he brings it up later at doomsday - but it’s easier to deal with a situation when you downplay it, it’s easier for techno to keep up that calm façade when he’s acting as if whatever happened wasn’t that big of a deal even if it was. again, the way he speaks about it on doomsday was clearly upset and emotional.

the only person to blame for tubbo’s death is schlatt. he was the one pulling the trigger and techno was the gun.

if you made it this far, thank you for sticking it out! i spent so many hours rewatching all the streams, some of them multiple times, while taking notes to be able to do this. i’m extremely passionate about techno and i feel as if a lot of the arguments against him tend to miss the nuance of his character. this project is on-going and i’ll be going over the butcher army/retirement storylines next. feel free to submit any points you’d like to see addressed!

#technoblade #dream smp #dsmp analysis #dsmp meta #tommyinnit #tubbo #quackity #dsmpblr #dream smp analysis #loyal does meta #this......is a lot #i spent so much time on it y'all

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blu-joons · 3 years

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DATING NCT A⇴Z HEADCANON ⇴ Huang Renjun

A ⇴ AFFECTION

Renjun is very much a cuddler, he knows he’s not the tallest person in the world, but he sure feels tall when he’s able to wrap his arms around you and know that the feel of his body around yours helps to make you feel safe and loved.

B ⇴ BEFORE DATING

The two of you were sat beside each other one night when you were hanging out at the movies. Despite Winwin joining him, and your best friend at your side, the two of you soon found yourselves talking to each other as the adverts played before the movie and exchanging numbers once it had finished as well.

C ⇴ CONFESSION

To confess, Renjun decided to take you back to where it all began. It was a different film, but Renjun brought the same snacks and also chose the same seats for the two of you to watch a new release. This time around, he waited until the end of the movie to start talking to you and tell you how he felt. In that time, the cinema had cleared out, but Renjun was more than happy to leave things as the two of you for a little while.

D ⇴ DATES

When he can, Renjun likes to try and cook for you and show off the skills that he’s picking up on. It definitely doesn’t always turn out perfectly, but you can see the effort that he puts into it, and that’s what matters the most to him. Either whilst you eat or after, you’ll usually sit down and watch a movie with each other. At times, it’s hard to find a film that Renjun hasn’t watched before, but after searching high and low for a film, you’ll end up sitting down with your meal, somewhat paying attention to the film, and somewhat to each other too.

E ⇴ EXPERIENCE

As one of the elder members in Dream, Renjun knew that if he started dating then he’d have to make sure that it set an example to the others too. He didn’t want to rush things, Renjun was usually quite a calm and casual person anyway, and as he was learning so much anyway in dating you, he didn’t want to overwhelm himself, or you. Of course, WinWin would be a huge help in reassuring him too, whenever he did feel like the world of dating was surprising him, he would turn to his friend and offload and search for a bit of support and reassurance.

F ⇴ FIGHTING

Arguing is not something that is common between the two of you, Renjun is one of the main members who tries to keep a positive atmosphere and keep people smiling, and so fighting is definitely not something for him. Even during your fights, he never lets his anger show and tries to remain calm and smiley to also keep you relaxed too. He’s not someone that can deal with the tension after a fight either. It won’t be long before he reappears and tries to make things right between the two of you because he can’t cope with not being able to talk to you and move around the house knowing that you’re mad at him.

G ⇴ GETTING TO KNOW HIS FAMILY

Being an only child, you knew his family had high expectations for whoever his partner would be. You definitely felt the pressure too as you’d usually only speak to his family via video chat. Each time he spoke to his family, Renjun tried to get you involved so you had the most time available to you to get to know them all.

H ⇴ HOME

The two of you are very lucky that Jisung is understanding of the two of you and will often free up the dorm room if need be. However, Renjun can usually be found at your place instead as it’s a lot more private. After a few months together, Renjun will start spending more time at your place too, slowly moving in without either of you even noticing.

I ⇴ “I LOVE YOU”

At the end of a terrible prank on you, Renjun found himself saying, ‘I love you.’ He knew that he’d messed up bad, your face was a giveaway, and no matter what he did or said, you were silent. He knew they were three words he’d been waiting to say for a while anyway, and the only solution to get you to start talking to him again.

J ⇴ JEALOUSY

People’s opinions aren’t something that Renjun lets bother him too much, nor is he bothered by their actions either. If someone wants to try and make him jealous, he knows his sharp tongue can quickly shut them down before they get too far. It’s a relief to you to know that you have a bit more freedom to do whatever and know that Renjun won’t be jealous. He trusts you and knows that he can stand up for himself and your relationship if he has to if anyone even wants to try and overstep the mark with you.

K ⇴ KIDS

Again, as an only child, Renjun felt a slight weight on his shoulders to have children and continue the family line. He’ll definitely be open with you about having children and giving his parents grandchildren too. But you’re both young, so it will never be something that he’ll force you into deciding too much about just yet. His only hope is that by planting the seed early, you’ll be less scared in the future when children become a more serious topic.

L ⇴ LAUGHTER

Renjun loves to make sure that everyone around him is happy anyway, but his focus is always especially on you. He’s naturally funny, and he knows that he can use that to his advantage too which you soon learn first-hand. If he annoys you or frustrates you, it’s only a matter of time before the perfect joke is uttered by him and the smile is back on your face again. A positive environment is of great importance to Renjun, he always likes to make sure that everyone is enjoying themselves whenever they’re around him.

M ⇴ MISSING

Being one of the older members, Renjun doesn’t want to let the other Dream members see him missing you too much, he prefers to be there for them to have to rely on them to be there for him. Throughout most of the day he can usually keep himself composed quite well, but the moment he gets a text or call from you, then his heart will begin to pound a little bit harder. If he’s touring with NCT U, then he’ll open up a little more about his feelings as one of the younger members, knowing that the elder members are always there for him and always keeping a close eye on him too whenever they’re away from home.

N ⇴ NICKNAMES

Renjun loves to use Chinese nicknames whenever he’s addressing you. The language is something you’re keen to pick up on anyway, so he’ll often teach you new words by addressing you with a new nickname each time.

O ⇴ OBSESSION

He’s obsessed with your kind heart. Your support is what means the most to Renjun, and you give him that and so much more out of the goodness of your heart.

P ⇴ PDA

Affection in public is usually quite playful as far as Renjun is concerned. He’s not afraid for someone to watch the two of you if he decides to start pinching at your waist or squeezing your shoulders a little too tight. He knows that it always makes you blush which just makes it a whole lot funnier for him too.

Q ⇴ QUESTIONS

Living with Renjun is pretty chaotic, so you’re usually having to ask him to tidy up a bit more or move his things from lying around. You never imagined one person could live so messily until you started living with him.

R ⇴ RANDOM FACTS

In his spare time, Renjun likes to give drawing a go, and so he’ll often find himself making sketches of you. They’re something that he’d never show to you as he’s quite shy about his drawings, but he loves to draw up photos of you he’s taken or recreate memories that he can recall the two of you making in the form of a drawing. His sketchbook is kept very safe from everyone, but he loves to fill it with little doodles and edits.

S ⇴ SEX

He loves to tease you whenever the two of you get intimate and try and push a few of those boundaries, but he always makes sure to do it with an innocent smile on his face. He can see your frustrations growing at times, but he shrugs as if he’s doing nothing wrong. When he does this, you’ll always make sure to get revenge on him and prove to him how it isn’t nice to tease when someone wants something so badly.

T ⇴ TEXTS

Renjun will often text you throughout his day so that the two of you can make plans for that evening. As messy as he is, he likes for his schedule to be organised and make sure that everything for your time together can be perfect.

U ⇴ UNIVERSE

As far as Renjun was concerned, you were his best friend. He never really imagined love being something that was missing from his life, but when he met you, he realised it was something important to him, more than anything else.

V ⇴ VACATION

When the time came for Renjun to be able to go on vacation, there was only one place he wanted to go. You knew more than anyone how badly he wanted to go home for a while, but when he asked you to join him on the trip, you were more than surprised. Of course, you said yes, excited to see where Renjun grew up too.

W ⇴ WHINING

If you stop laughing at him, then Renjun will definitely start to whine. It’s not because he wants the attention necessarily, but just to know that you’re doing fine.

X ⇴ XXXXX

Your cheeks are definitely Renjun’s favourite place to kiss, when you’re feeling sad, he’ll be able to kiss against them when you bury your head in your hands, or when you’re happy, he’ll be able to kiss along your laughter lines and your blushed cheeks. They’re the perfect spot for any emotion that you’re feeling, annoyed, embarrassed, angry, or over the moon, he’ll always kiss against your cheeks before anywhere else.

Y ⇴ YOU

You were his sidekick, at his side throughout everything he did in life.

Z ⇴ ZZZ

Every night, without fail, Renjun loves to fall asleep with you nice and close to him. Feeling your body curl into his side makes him smile like nothing else and feel comfortable enough to fall asleep, knowing that you’re right there with him.

---

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radiantmists · 3 years

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Title: and you give yourself away

Fandom: The Magnus Archives

Pairing: Jon/Martin

Rating: Gen

Word Count: 4414

Jon is not an idiot. Contrary to what some of the people who love him might believe, he’s not even entirely oblivious to social cues, though he’ll admit they elude him perhaps more often than is standard.

All of this to say that in the week following their escape from the Lonely, as Martin graduates from shy smiling glances and tentative clutching of clammy hands to full-bellied laughter and warm, steady embraces, Jon is fully capable of figuring out where things are going. And, yes, the idea makes him uneasy when he faces it head on, but if there's something more he can do to feed the way Martin is unfolding, blossoming into the man he'd been before— except more sure of himself, somehow, steadier—

Well, there isn't much Jon wouldn't attempt for that, given the option. This is something small, something he's not even actually opposed to, just... less than completely sure of.

So when they’re sitting on the couch together, giggling over some charming thing the grocer had said to Martin, and Jon looks up to find Martin’s blue-green-grey eyes mere inches from his own, a breath caught in each of their throats, he's prepared for what Martin is going to say before the first sound emerges.

“Jon,” he whispers, “can I k—”

“Yes,” he blurts before Martin can finish.

Too loud and too abrupt; they both rear back with the force of it, and for a moment Jon feels like an utter idiot before he notices Martin giggling softly.

“Not eager at all, are you?” he teases, and now Jon hesitates.

The thing is—he’s not oblivious, which means he’s been thinking about it. He’d known how Martin felt since just after he woke up and listened to that awful tape with Elias; perhaps he’d figured it out even before that, somewhere between the fifth cup of perfectly-brewed, perfectly-timed tea in as many days and the third scrambled phone call from an ocean away, picked up on the second ring despite the forgotten time-zones.

But there had been so much going on, at first, that Jon had never had the chance to really think about it. And then after he’d woken, when he’d really had the chance to consider what he and Martin were to each other, it had always been in a sort of abstract sense—I need him to be okay, I need to trust him and I do trust him, and in the most maudlin moments of hopeful fantasy, I want him to still want me.

Only now, when they’d found that against all odds they were okay, and they did trust each other, and even begun to signal that they wanted each other, had Jon begun to consider what exactly ‘wanting’ might look like for Martin.

“I—wait,” he begins, the word tasting bitter. He knows Martin won’t be unkind about this, but that isn’t necessarily the same as understanding. Jon still has to say it. “You can kiss me, but only if you won’t be offended if I don’t like it.”

Martin sits up shock-straight, eyes going wide as he looks at Jon. “I’m not going to do it if you’re not going to like it! If you didn’t want to, why didn’t you just say no?”

Jon sighs, irritated. That hadn’t come out right.

“I didn’t say no because I do want you to kiss me,” he says, trying to be patient. “I mean, if you want to—”

“Of course I want to, Jon, but that doesn’t mean you have to say yes!” Martin replies, frustrated, gesturing sharply with his hands. Jon blinks, leaning back slightly, and Martin sighs, arms coming down and his tone going softer, smaller. “It’s not—this isn’t something you need to give me, Jon. I know you love me. It’s okay to have boundaries.”

Jon hadn’t had to come out to Martin, because the archival gossip chain had done it for him. But he supposes there was enough ambiguity in the terms that it’s worth having the conversation anyway.

“Asexual people can and do kiss, you know,” he says. “Some even have and enjoy sex, although I have to be clear that that will not be happening.”

“I—I know that,” Martin says, going red and avoiding Jon’s eyes. “And I know you can kiss, I wouldn’t have asked otherwise, but—you said you wouldn’t like it.”

Jon wrinkles his nose with a sigh. A whole week of turning this over, of deciding how he wanted to address this possibility and even rehearsing what he needed to say, and he’s still made a mess of it.

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t like it,” he says slowly. “I asked you to be prepared for the possibility that I might not, because I don’t actually know. I want to try, but only if you’re okay with this maybe being the only one you get.”

There’s a long moment of silence.

“Jon,” Martin says slowly. “Have you not—would that have been your first kiss?”

Jon has to bite his tongue on the first, defensively scathing reply, and nods instead.

“But—”

Martin stops, hesitant, and Jon waves permission for him to continue with a sigh. Maybe the next question is going to be indelicate or ignorant, but better to address it than to leave him wondering.

“I mean, I know you’ve been in relationships before,” Martin explains carefully. “I—I’m not as surprised that you haven’t done it, there’s nothing wrong with that, I’m just confused because it seems like if it was something you wanted, you could have?”

Turning that one over in his mind, Jon nods slowly.

“I suppose you’re right,” he allows. “I guess it isn’t something I want in the traditional sense. I don’t look at someone—even someone I love—and want to kiss them, any more than I look at them and want to have sex. But sex at least makes sense,” he grouses. “As… off-putting as I find the idea on a personal level, it’s necessary in an evolutionary sense and obviously it involves biological processes that are designed to be enjoyable. I get why people do it, and those reasons don’t appeal to me.”

At this point, Martin is brick red, but he nods in acknowledgement. “And… kissing is different?”

“Yes!” Jon’s maybe a little excited to get to talk about this. Sue him, he’s been thinking about it enough. “It’s not as awful as sex seems, but it also serves no functional purpose, and yet the whole world is utterly convinced that it’s absolutely wonderful, and I don’t understand it. Another person’s mouth does not seem like an appealing thing to have in your mouth. But then again, objectively neither do pen caps, and you’ve seen me with those.”

Martin snickers. “Apparently they’re irresistible.”

“Yes, well,” Jon says, flapping a hand. He’d made the joke, but somehow he still feels a prickle of embarrassment, so he moves on quickly. “The point is, there’s nothing inherently appealing or especially off-putting about it, in theory. But I’ve never had an especially good reason to try, and none of the people I’ve dated really liked it, so I’ve never bothered. That doesn’t mean I’m not… curious.”

His first two partners had also been ace; Georgie wasn’t, but simply ‘wasn’t a fan’ of kissing, though she’d never been able to explain why, any more than Jon could articulate why the idea of anyone touching him sexually made his stomach flip even though he saw nothing inherently wrong with the act. It didn’t matter why, really; as Martin had said, boundaries are important. But it meant he’d stayed curious.

There was a little more to it, of course. His first boyfriend had asked Jon if he wanted to try kissing once, casually, since he’d never done it before. Jon had declined. Perhaps he hadn’t been quite as secure in his sexuality then, perhaps he did actually feel more of a need to at least try for Martin, who genuinely wanted this. Jon likes to think, though, that his desire to try simply speaks to how comfortable this whole relationship has felt, how safe. There was no reason that kissing had to be any different from that pastry recipe they’d done together the other day, the one they’d thrown out after three bites each with little more than a regretful shrug.

“I… that makes sense,” Martin says finally, and Jon sits up.

“You still want to, then?” he asks.

Martin blinks, an uncertain smile spreading on his face. “You are excited.”

“I’ve been thinking about it!” Jon says defensively, and Martin gives a shocked laugh-gasp. “I mean—I thought you might want to, which meant I had to decide whether I wanted to try, and so now I just… I’ve just ruined the mood, I suppose,” he finishes, deflating.

Martin’s smile doesn’t grow, but it stops twitching and tucks in at the corners like it’s decided that it’s there to stay. “I wouldn’t say that. Unless you’d rather not, of course.”

“No, I’m fine,” Jon replies. “Let’s try it.”

He studies Martin’s face, leaning forward slightly. Jon has considered the mechanics of this before, of course, and he’s seen it in movies, but there’s a difference between knowing how to do something theoretically and having experience, so he’s hoping Martin will take the lead, as it were…

With a frustrated noise, Martin pulls back.

“What?” Jon asks, blinking. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, I—I guess I’m just nervous now!” Martin replies, running a hand through his hair. “I mean, I brushed my teeth this morning, but that was hours ago, what if my mouth tastes weird?”

Jon frowns. “Is that usually a problem?”

“Not—really? Not unless you’ve just woken up, or eaten something really strong…”

Would Martin’s mouth even taste that different from his? They’d eaten the same things today, after all, and used the same toothpaste. The memory of the bathroom with their toothbrushes sitting in the same cup, of sitting across from each other over a lunch they’d made with crisp sunlight streaming through the window, makes Jon grin a little even as Martin barrels on.

“Or—I thought, something chaste at least to start, but lots of people like deeper kisses way better, and really I’m not exactly talented, or even all that experienced! What if I put you off kissing forever, but you actually just don’t like kissing me?”

He looks down at his hands as soon as he’s finished; Jon reaches out slowly to take one in his own, contemplating this.

“If I don’t like kissing you,” he says finally, carefully, “then that’s all I need to know, isn’t it?”

Martin makes a cut-off sound that Jon can’t identify, and when he chances a glance at Martin’s face, his eyes are wide.

“I’m never going to want to kiss someone else,” Jon points out. “Best case scenario, you show me a fun new activity we can do together. If we… bump teeth or something, some good reason it’s an abnormally bad kiss, we can try again. And worst case—well, you don’t get to kiss anyone, I suppose, but—”

“It’s not like it’s something I need,” Martin interrupts, but he’s squeezing Jon’s hand. “Yeah, okay, I see your point.”

“There’s no pressure to be perfect from my end,” Jon agrees, but now he can feel himself hesitating. “But—there’s a good chance that I won’t like it, and it won’t be your fault, but if you’d rather not try at all, I won’t be upset.”

“Jon, I can promise you you’re not pressuring me into this,” Martin smiles.

Jon bites his lip. “I don’t want to do it if it’s going to upset you, or make you feel like you’re… inadequate.”

Martin sighs.

“Jon, I feel inadequate all the time,” he says frankly. “As long as you don’t—I don’t know, dump me over it? Make fun of me?—it’s not going to make a noticeable difference.”

“I think that’s worse,” Jon replies, and Martin winces. Jon wonders how much he’s already contributed to Martin’s feelings of inadequacy and decides it’s definitely worse.

“Well— I can promise I won’t be upset with you if you don’t like it,” Martin says finally. “But I think at this point we’re in utter agreement that we don’t have to, so maybe we can just—table this discussion?”

Jon sighs and shifts to rest his head against Martin’s shoulder instead. “Yeah, okay.”

Martin’s soft laughter rumbles in his chest and through Jon’s cheek into his skull. “Wow, you sound more disappointed than I am.”

“I was a bit excited to try,” Jon admits, running his thumb over the back of Martin’s hand in his own. “I’ve been curious about this for decades, Martin.”

“…yeah, that tracks.”

His tone is fond, but Jon still shifts uncomfortably, trying to make himself smaller.

“That’s me,” he says quietly. “Can’t leave any question unasked.”

Martin sighs. “Jon, you know that’s not what I meant.”

Jon does know. He does, except--

“You don’t mean it until it’s what makes me do something idiotic,” he blurts, sitting up. “It’s all just me, Martin, and—”

“Okay, being curious doesn’t require you to be ridiculously self-sacrificing!” Martin argues, letting go of Jon’s hands to gesture in frustration.

“Well, fine,” Jon bites back, crossing his arms. “I’m curious and an idiot. Happy?”

“No!” Martin snaps. “There’s a difference between being stupid, which you aren’t, and being so convinced that your own safety doesn’t matter that you’ll knowingly throw yourself into danger, or, or let someone maim you for a story!”

Jon opens his mouth. Closes it. Martin is studying him, the tension slowly leeching out of his posture and leaving him just looking tired.

“I… I needed to know those things,” Jon says weakly.

“Most of them, yeah,” Martin agrees. “But—Jon, when you need something, when you’re curious, why is you getting hurt the first option? When did that happen?”

When had it happened?

Long before he’d entered the Lonely, the possibility of his death not even registering if it gave him a chance to retrieve Martin. Surely before Jared, when he’d traded an extra rib for a statement with hardly a moment’s hesitation. One rib for the statement, one for Daisy, as though they were remotely equal, and the obscenity of it had occurred to Jon only later. He’d been glad, in a sick way, that it hadn’t worked.

He hadn’t known exactly what would happen, with Melanie, but he hadn’t exactly been surprised to look up from the bullet to see her swinging at him with murder in her eyes. It had been worth it, though, even if she’d hated him afterward.

Jon had expected to die in the Unknowing, deep down. He’d accepted that the circus would kill him at some point during that interminable month with Nikola, though he hadn’t realized it until he’d been accepting Michael’s offer of a cleaner death—a trade in itself, he supposed, his life for an end when he’d had nothing else to bargain with. He’d spent the next few months increasingly exhausted, until putting himself on Trevor and Julia’s shitlist in exchange for some real answers from Gerry had hardly even been difficult.

Did Martin even know about any of those? He hasn’t seen Jon’s rib, hasn’t asked about the new scar on Jon’s shoulder or, in the whirlwind surrounding their departure, what exactly two hunters were doing at the Institute. He must have listened to some of the tapes, in those months that Jon can’t quite remember, but had the one recording Michael’s statement ever made its way to the Institute, or has Jon just automatically included it in the perfectly-accessible archive in his head?

Martin might be thinking about the Unknowing, or perhaps about Jon’s hand, which he’d patiently helped re-wrap on the day Jon had returned to the Institute, when the wound had practically ripped itself open with the strain of holding a shovel and digging.

Maybe he’s thinking about less concrete hurts, the way Jon had thrown himself into the idea of being useful if he couldn’t be human. About how Jon couldn’t give his life anymore, how he’d traded his human death to Oliver in exchange for waking up.

Or maybe it had been earlier, in a moment Martin will remember: that first, frantic rush of Prentiss’ attack, when Jon had grabbed for the tape recorder on the desk through a sea of writhing white flesh without even considering whether there might be a second.

Whatever Martin is thinking about, he must see on Jon’s face that he doesn’t have an answer, that the list is so long and so old that he can’t even begin.

“That isn’t okay, Jon,” he says softly.

“You did it,” Jon finds himself replying, defensive. “With Peter, you knew he was dangerous—”

Martin sighs, cutting him off even though the sound is almost silent. “Yes, I did, Jon, after you’d been in a coma for three months, and Tim and Sasha were dead, and the Institute had been attacked again, and my mother had just died. Do you really think that was a healthy decision?”

No. No, it had been terrifying, listening to the tape they’d found in the Panopticon and hearing Martin’s recorded voice call it a good way to get killed. Even with him bustling around packing in the other room, perfectly safe, Jon had felt the terror rise up cold and choking in his throat.

“You’re not a tool, Jon, and you’re worth more than a statement or a convenient solution to a problem,” Martin says. “It terrifies me that you don’t seem to get that.”

“It—I can see why it would,” Jon allows, throat tight. “But what I am now, whatever it is that Peter thinks Magnus ‘got’ out of their bet—”

“That isn’t your fault, Jon—”

“I hurt people to live, Martin,” Jon replies, exhausted. “Don’t I owe those people—and the people I’ve gotten killed—whatever good I can do, even if it might not be… comfortable?”

Martin leans back, his eyes closed. He looks hurt, and Jon feels abruptly and deeply ashamed of himself. After everything he’s gone through, with everything he’s still struggling with, Martin shouldn’t have to deal with Jon’s baggage as well.

He’s searching for the words to make this go away, to assure Martin that he’ll think about it and that he’s not planning to throw himself into danger any time soon, that he’s happy to stay up here and leave it all behind for as long as it’s safe or until Martin wants to go, when Martin speaks.

“What do I owe you, then?”

Jon blinks. “What?”

“For making you come after me,” Martin explains. “My plan didn’t accomplish much except for giving Magnus something he wanted, after all.”

“That wasn’t your fault,” Jon argues. “I—it was my choice to go in, I—”

“It was Tim’s choice to go into the Unknowing,” Martin replies. “And Daisy’s for that matter. They didn’t do it for you, or even really because of you.”

Tim wouldn’t have chosen to go in if Jon hadn’t utterly ruined his life; neither he nor Sasha would have died if Jon hadn’t asked them to be his assistants in the first place. And even in the Unknowing itself, if Jon had just been able to see through it back then the way Elias—Jonah—had predicted he should, the way he’d almost easily found his way out of the Lonely, they could all have gotten out just fine.

Martin glares at him, apparently reading the justifications on his face. “They chose, Jon, with their eyes wide open. Don’t tell me otherwise, because I won’t believe you.”

“Even ignoring that,” Jon says, though the words are bitter, “it’s not—we’re not alike. You hadn’t hurt anyone—”

“I’ve been thinking about that one, actually,” Martin says, and his tone has gained the distant, thoughtful tinge he’d always had in his lonely office on the topmost floor of the Institute. Jon reaches for his hand, worried, and Martin doesn’t move away, but doesn’t close his own fingers, either. “I was enough of an avatar to convince Peter, wasn’t I? He must have been able to feel the Lonely on me, even if some of it was lies. That power had to come from somewhere. From someone, someone afraid.”

“He had control over the whole Institute,” Jon points out. “Maybe the low-level loneliness just sort of… carried over?”

But Martin shakes his head. “Maybe a little,” he says, “but I don’t think so.”

“Why?” Jon demands, frustrated. “There was no one who came in and made a bloody statement about you ruining their lives. Who did you hurt?”

“You, I think,” Martin answers, looking down at their hands. “Most of the Institute, they were afraid of the policy changes that Peter was making, or that he’d fire them or their friends—well, disappear them, but they mostly didn’t know that. And at first I think you were worried about what he’d do to me, too, but…”

“You kept making me leave,” Jon realizes, the words coming out almost before he understands them. “I started to worry that you’d chosen the Lonely, started to be afraid of more than just Peter realizing you were conning him, that you’d decide you really were better off without me.”

Martin stares at him, hands still limp in Jon’s. “That was… God, I’m right, aren’t I? You just Knew it.”

Jon had.

“It—it doesn’t matter,” he insists, squeezing at Martin’s hands almost desperately. “You didn’t even know you were doing it, it—”

“I knew I was signing myself over to an evil fear god, which is more than you did, going in,” Martin objects. “I knew Peter was evil, I knew you weren’t doing well—”

“It wasn’t your job to manage my emotional state, Martin—”

“Well, I’d have liked not to make it worse!” he snaps back. “God, talk about poor self-worth, you saved me after I practically left you to die over Peter Lukas’ theories—”

“About the literal apocalypse,” Jon points out. “It isn’t like I’ll be doing better if the Extinction really does emerge.”

Martin snorts dismissively. “His solution was to take over the world instead and kill the whole Institute in the process, that wouldn’t have been better either. And I might not have known that, but I did figure his plan was to use me for a ritual, and I still played along.”

“Because he’d have thrown you into the Lonely as soon as he realized you’d turned on him,” Jon replies.

“Which he did anyway. I’d have had to stop listening to him at some point.”

“Well, we did find out about the Panopticon, and Magnus,” Jon argues. “And you didn’t know if there was something even bigger he was leading up to, something we could use. You were doing the best you could, Martin, it’s only hindsight that makes the other options seem so much more obvious.”

Martin is blinking at him, gaze steady. Jon looks back. Thinks over his last few words. Makes a frustrated noise.

“It’s really not—”

“You’re genuinely so smart,” Martin interrupts, in a tone of wonder, “and yet so unbelievably stubborn. Yes, Jon, it is the same! You made some mistakes, most of them totally understandable in context, and none of them, even the really awful ones, mean you have to—to keep giving away bits of yourself!”

Martin voice has risen, gotten harsher as he goes, and he’s squeezing Jon’s hands tight enough that he can’t get them free to cross his arms, so all Jon’s frustration goes into his tone.

“Fine,” he snaps. “Fine! Neither of us will blame ourselves for things we couldn’t control, and we’ll both value ourselves more and build healthier self-images and all of that, and everything will be fine. Deal?”

“Deal.”

Jon glares. Martin scowls back, jaw set, still holding Jon’s hands tightly.

“Just like that,” Jon says.

“Absolutely.”

One more second of stubborn frustration passes. Then, helplessly, Jon snorts. Martin’s face twists, confused-irritated-wry, and then he’s snickering too, until they’re both laughing desperately, each leaning forward until Jon’s head is practically tucked under Martin’s chin.

“It’s not going to be that easy, you know,” Jon murmurs when they’ve calmed down, looking up to meet Martin’s eyes properly.

It’s an understatement; it’ll be hard enough just to keep things as good as they are. Martin still starts to drift off if he’s left alone for long enough, and no deal they make with each other is going to change the way Jon’s monstrous appetite is already starting to clamor for a statement.

“Well, at least we’re agreed,” Martin replies, but there’s a dry note in his voice that Jon knows means he understands. “We can remind each other.”

“I suppose.”

Their faces, once again, are very close together, and Jon abruptly realizes that he can feel Martin’s soft, tingling breaths on his cheeks. He pulls back, wrinkling his nose.

“What?”

“Nothing, just—breathing on me,” Jon explains. He’d mentioned his discomfort with that on their first night here, when he’d made sure there was a pillow between him and Martin on the bed.

Martin hums acknowledgement, then cocks his head in thought. Jon feels a curl of unease; this argument has been draining enough already.

“You know,” Martin says, “when you kiss someone, you can definitely feel them breathing on your face.”

“Oh,” Jon replies, utterly thrown. That was what had started this whole conversation. “Well. I probably wouldn’t have liked it much, then.”

“Good. And we figured it out without you actually having to do the uncomfortable thing,” Martin says. Jon sighs, then squints at him.

“And without you feeling like you’ve messed it up,” he replies pointedly, and Martin opens his mouth, then stops and chuckles.

“See? We’re going to be great at this.”

It’s not even remotely true. Jon still wants to know what kissing is like, though not with any real urgency, just as before; he’s still alarmed by Martin apparently feeling inadequate ‘all the time,’ and he doubts this has made a dent in it. Still, it might at least not make it worse.

Jon groans, leaning forward to rest his head on Martin’s chest and bringing his arms up to snake around his torso. “We can just hug instead.”

“Yeah,” Martin replies, folding him in tighter. “Yeah, okay.”

#tma #tma fanfiction #jonmartin #martin blackwood #jonathan sims #jon archivist #ive just started posting stuff #if people like it they like it #if they dont they dont #at least they get to see it #my writing

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bokutoslittlebird · 4 years

Text

In Your Eyes

Bokuto Kōtarō x Chubby!Reader

Author’s Note : There are some dark things in here and if you feel suicidal please do not keep it bottled in. It’s not healthy and needs to be addressed. The really bad stuff isn’t until the middle (right before the smut, basically), so be warned! That’s where the suicidal stuff is and like I said, if you do any of this or feel suicidal please seek professional help because it’s not worth keeping unhealthy feelings inside ; If you are wondering why Bokuto’s obsessed with licking and biting in this, I have been rereading a doujin where Bokuto does that and, well, it’s hot ; I swear this would not have taken me so long if I didn’t keep crying while writing it omg I would be dead if I had a shot every time I had to stop writing so I could wipe my tears and snot. This is why I don’t like to read or write angst but wow was that therapeutic.

Warnings: angst, fat shaming, use of the word “pig”, body dysmorphia (inability to look in a mirror), vomit, suicidal tendencies/intention (via overdose) + implied past actions alcohol, soft!dom Bokuto, choking, creampie(s), mating press+doggy style, licking and biting, facesitting

The cheers of the crowd erupted as the whistle blew. Once again, the MSBY Black Jackals had won. This match was against the Red Falcons, another team in the V.1 division. It was a close call, but Hinata managed to break the deuce with his monstrous quick attack and seal the set with their victory.

The team was jumping and bouncing, giving out high fives as they did. Of course, they had to shake hands with the Adlers, bowing to the audience and thanking them for their support. When Bokuto did his classic ‘Bokuto Beam’ move towards the audience, you could hear the girls squealing and giggling. It isn’t like they didn’t do the same when Atsumu or Hinata waved to them, but it hit you different. After all, they were beautiful in your eyes, slim and flawless.

Oh, yes. You’re the MSBY Black Jackal’s manager, being a classmate of Hinata in his second and third year (as in you tutored him and helped manage the volleyball club with Yachi). Hinata was your first friend, which kind of sounds pathetic. It was, if you were being honest with yourself. Being heavier than the average girl at your school subjected you to bullying and pranks that ended with you crying until you threw up. Hinata never made you feel like that, though. He always made sure you were comfortable and every member of the club at Karasuno treated you like an angel. You ended up applying to be the MSBY manager when Hinata asked, saying they needed a manager and wondered if you could apply. Well, it was either that or finding a job at the circus, as your family would sneer at you. Truly, Hinata was the first to accept you.

Once you got the job, it was like being back at Karasuno, honestly. Everyone was friendly and treated you no differently than they would treat others. However, you wished one of them would treat you differently.

Bokuto.

He was the ace of the team, a goofy fella that could make anyone smile. Including you. Aside from Hinata, he made you feel accepted and made you forget about any woes and horrid thoughts you were facing. He didn’t know about them like Hinata did, but you were sure he’d treat you different if he knew.

Once everything was packed up, you and the coach headed out, the team not too far behind you.

“Shōyō-kun, that was one of yer best sets yet!” Atsumu cheerily piped up, walking behind Hinata. Hinata was right beside you, as he always was.

“I’m glad you think so! I don’t know if we can surprise the Adlers next time, though. Kageyama still knows my tricks,” he huffed as he finished his statement, putting his hair down so he could mock Kageyama. You giggled at his antics.

“Alright, change up and meet at the bus in 10 minutes, let’s go!” Coach commanded. Each member voiced their acquiescence. You decided to use this opportunity to go to the bathroom. After all, their match lasted almost an hour, if not more.

In the restrooms, you were almost done when you heard a bunch of girls giggling as they entered. Instead of leaving, you stayed in place, waiting for them to go.

You wish you hadn’t.

“Gosh, those boys are so attractive!” One of them said. Two voices agreed.

“Have you seen Atsumu and Kageyama? They’re both so hot!”

“I was too focused on that number 12,” oh no, “Bokuto, I think? He’s a good looking man, bet he has the stamina of a god, too,”

“Yeah, it’s a shame their brand is ruined by that mascot of theirs.” What?

“Mascot? Oh! You mean the pig? Yeah, she does put a damper on everything, doesn’t she? Imagine being that attractive and having that thing follow you around!” The girl cackled, her friends following suit. You felt your stomach drop, tears springing in the corner of your eyes as you listened to them.

It was easy to forget you were different when you with the team since they made you feel normal, but that didn’t mean others wouldn’t notice you.

The girls eventually left, the door slamming shut behind them. Whether they came in there to do makeup or just talk shit about you knowing you were in there didn’t matter. Not when you were crumpled up on the floor as sobs wracked your frame. Life sucks.

It’s not like you didn’t try! That’s the other thing! You try to lose weight and nothing happens, exercising doesn’t do much and diets are practically useless. You used to go to the gym, but stopped when you kept getting stares. You also used to run with Hinata in the mornings, but since he was so much faster than you, you stopped. What’s the point if you’re panting and breathless after a minute while he’s still going strong after 30 minutes? It felt like nothing would ever help.

A buzzing interrupted your crying fest, you sniffling as you wipe away the tears and look at the screen. It’s from the groupchat, Hinata asking if you’re okay and they were all at the bus. You typed back a quick ‘K’ and got up. The best you could hope for was nobody would point out the red eyes and the sniffling.

Hinata knew of your troubles, being there for you when you broke down in school more often than not. When you confided that he was the first person you felt comfortable with, it broke him. Seeing you had bottled up your emotions because nobody bothered to listen or care, it made him want to include you in his life. He would invite you over for dinner and his sister would excitedly talk to you, never making you feel uncomfortable. When he heard that you were in Osaka, he immediately called you up about being the MSBY manager.

He also knew of your crush on Bokuto. It was obvious to him, with how you looked at the ace with longing. Hinata even encouraged you to confess, but that was quickly dismissed when you told Hinata how you felt like Bokuto deserved better than someone like you. Bokuto was muscular, attractive, and charming — in your eyes, he deserved to be with someone his equal. That did not mean you. Hinata knew of your troubles, but he also knew of Bokuto’s. Bokuto has a crush on you, too, finding himself more accepted with you around. Contrary to the ace’s personality, he was insecure in a lot of things. He wasn’t very smart, which was often pointed out by others. He knew when someone was upset, though, so he always knew he needed to make you feel better.

Once you arrived at the bus, Hinata greeted you as everyone else had boarded. “What’s wrong?”

“The same old thing, you know,” you sniffle, your voice cracking as you remember the hateful words. Hinata’s face soured as you said those words. Back in high school, he would sit down and cry with you. Now, he was tired of you still being picked on as an adult.

“Immature, that’s what they are. Come on, we’re gonna stop by that restaurant you love.” Oh great, food. You may have been starving when the match ended, but after the incident, you just wanted to go home and cry. You numbly nodded and followed Hinata onto the bus. The coach didn’t bother pointing out anything, but he sent you a sad look when he noticed the red eyes on you. You sadly smiled and continued to your seat, behind the coach as the bus started to move. Curling into your jacket, you tried to think of something else.

The restaurant was a disaster. Everyone had been excited and gotten off the bus when a bunch of fangirls came up to them. You had just smiled and shook your head, feeling better already. At least, you had been until the girls noticed you and gave you looks of disgust. It was short lived, their attention turning back to the boys, so you briskly walked off, into the restaurant, away from the crowd. It took almost 5 minutes for the girls to leave, but you refused to eat anything other than a salad and drink water. Even then, you excused yourself to the restroom to take a break, crying and attempting to force yourself to throw up. Once home, you locked the front door and let your emotions spill out. Crying and screaming was common, so that’s what you did. Then came the process — getting rid of any reflective surface. Turning off the lights, turning on the tv, covering the mirrors with sheets, closing the blinds, shutting out any possibility of looking at yourself. Even with nobody around, those words and looks stuck and struck deep, you eventually curling into yourself on your bed as you cried yourself to sleep.

The next day came, your alarm ringing and the sound bouncing off the walls. You turned it off, completely turning off your phone. Instead of dealing with alarms and people, you’d suffer alone behind the comfort of your home.

The team was worried, you were never late. Bokuto was more pouty than normal, your cheerful greeting missing from his morning and his bear hug. Atsumu also missed your cheerful greeting, asking Hinata if he knew of anything. When Hinata said he did not, he texted and called you, receiving no answer.

Okay, then he’d go to you.

Hinata had stayed at your apartment before, spending the night or just to hang out. Sometimes he brings you food and snacks when you need it, or he just checks on you. He has a spare key in case of anything and he’s glad he does when the door’s locked with no answer. He calls you once more time, knocking until he hears something. It’s faint, but it sounds like movement. So, you’re awake. But not answering the door. Sighing, he unlocks the door.

The apartment is not surprising to him, the windows covered and reflective surfaces covered. He was afraid of this, but he continues on. When he reaches your room, he hears more sniffling and crying. “[Y/N]?”

“Leave me be, Shōyō,”

“[Y/N], please. The team misses you,”

“Fuck off. I’m a charity case to them, I know it. Why else would they keep me around? I should just wallow away,” your voice sounds tired, the thought of the boys sticking with you out of pity a common thought you’ve had.

A thought that isn’t true, but breaks Hinata’s heart. “You know that’s not true. Everyone loves you! Even Bokuto,”

“Shōyō, shut up. Empty words do nothing. Maybe it’d be better if I just... stayed here. Maybe I should just end the misery,”

“Do not. Talk like that. Please.” Hinata’s voice cracks with each word. He knew you were bad, but you could pretend like everything was fine. He should’ve known the harsh treatment yesterday would affect you like this. He should’ve spent the night with you when you ordered a salad and a water. He should’ve told the coach or Meian when you went to the bathroom for 10 minutes that you were trying to throw up. Your lie of there being a line was obvious, a common excuse after a long time away. Hinata felt his chest tighten as he realized you didn’t answer him. “I’m getting Bokuto.”

“Shōyō! Don’t you dare!” Your screams do nothing as he basically runs out your apartment, you flinging the door open to see him gone. You start crying more, afraid that Bokuto will see just how pathetic you are. If he ever looked at you with disgust, the way everyone else does, you don’t know if you could continue on with your life.

Maybe it’d be better that way.

Bokuto doesn’t really know what’s going on, one moment he’s stretching and the next he’s running to the train station with Hinata’s words repeating over and over again.

‘[Y/N] needs you’

Bokuto’s first thought immediately went into the gutters, a blush coating his cheeks until Hinata continued.

‘I think she’s in trouble’

With those two sentences, Bokuto ran off, forgetting his bag and just taking his phone with him. He only needed his phone, really. Strange stares from the public didn’t bother him, he knows he’s still wearing his practice clothes and his knee pads, the material looking like leggings. He made it to the train station before it left, getting on and calling Hinata back.

“Bokuto?”

“I’m on the train, is everything okay?” He was panting, the train station being a bit away from the practice gym. He didn’t even bother sitting, just standing beside the doors.

“I don’t know. She’s.. She’s in a bad place. She won’t listen to me, but she’ll listen to you,” Hinata’s words are slightly muffled, sniffling accompanying his sentence. The words make Bokuto’s chest tighten.

“I don’t know what I can do, you’re her best friend. What could I do?”

“She’s in love with you. Has been for a while, actually. I know you can help her where I can’t. Just — I’ll give you her apartment key when you get to the station. Once I do, please go to her. Please,”

“I—“ Bokuto’s eyes are wide, his face definitely pink now. He’s still worried about you, but the idea of you actually liking him — no, loving him the same way he loves you, it makes him giddy. It gives him the push he needs to make it to you.

As soon as the doors open, there’s Hinata, holding a key ring for him to take. Bokuto doesn’t hesitate, a quick nod in Hinata’s direction before he rushes off to your apartment complex. All of the boys have been to your apartment before, but Bokuto and Hinata are the only ones who know the way to the place. Bokuto has gotten a bit drunk before and ended up crashing at your place, as well as just staying there when practices run late since his place is the farthest away from their practice gym.

Arriving at the apartment, he slides the key in and turns the knob, momentarily confused at the sheets covering your glass coffee table and the TV, but he continues in. He knocks on your bedroom door. “[Y/N]? Are you in here?” When he gets no response, he freaks out. Turning the knob, he notices you’re not in there, but there are more sheets covering things, as well as the blinds being shut. Even more confused, he turns back to the hallway and notices the bathroom door is closed. Fear strikes him as he thinks he knows why you’re not answering — he hopes he’s wrong.

When he opens the door, he realizes he was partially right. With a bottle of wine pressed to your lips, an empty pill bottle in one hand, your eyes wide as Bokuto’s golden eyes met yours. A brief moment of anger flashed across his face before you were forced over the toilet, his thick fingers going down your throat.

“Shtap!” Your muffled voice comes out, gagging around his fingers as he attempts to activate your gag reflex. He doesn’t stop, your squirming easily quelled against his strong grip on your arms pinning them back. You feel the bile rise and then you’re expelling the contents of your stomach into the toilet, coughing and sputtering as the painkillers you just took are now emptied into the porcelain bowl. Bokuto doesn’t let go of you as you cry, trying to get out of his hold.

He doesn’t know what he should bring up first, the fact Hinata called him over or the fact he caught you in the middle of a suicide attempt. You’re screaming and telling him to get off of you, but he instead holds you closer, your sobs fading as tears spill out of his own eyes, staining the hoodie you’re in. “Why would you do that?” He whispers.

You don’t know how to respond to that, instead choosing the phrase, “why not?” His face scrunches up and you don’t know if he’s in pain or angry as he shakes you.

“Why would you do that?! Don’t you know how many people would be distraught over you? Hinata would be inconsolable! Who would TsumTsum and I joke with? Did you even think about that? Did you think about me?” His voice is loud and it makes you cry harder, the weight of his words hitting deep. Bokuto’s been there for you through a lot and you’ve been facing all your problems on your own. “You can’t just do that! That’s selfish!”

“Why would it matter, Bo? What’s the point? I can’t face myself let alone face my feelings! Why not just stop hurting?” You’re both crying, him holding onto you tightly as you dry heave a bit, a stinging in the back of your throat and an arrow in your heart.

“Why can’t you face your feelings? You have Hinata and me!” Before you can tell him something else, he presses his lips to your forehead. You freeze. “I don’t know what I’d do if you left me. I don’t think I could live without you,” He dryly chuckles, tears still streaking down his face. You hiccup and look down, afraid to face him.

“You don’t mean that. You’re trying to make me feel better, I know. Just be honest with your feelings. I’m already low enough, no reason to keep up appearances,” more tears come out as you try to not break into another fit. Bokuto would never look at you the same you looked at him, especially not after seeing you like this. You couldn’t blame him, you look like a mess in your old sweatpants and the old hoodie that felt too tight even if it was one of the largest sizes you could find. Your hair is no better, hasn’t been brushed and you’ve been in bed for a while.

“Hinata said you loved me—“

“Stop,”

“So I came because he said he was worried—“

“You don’t need to say it,”

“If I had been a second later—“

“Stop it, please,”

“I wouldn’t have been able to tell you my feelings—“

“Please, don’t,” you cover your face, tears blurring your vision anyways. Bokuto removes your hands, looking into your eyes. His own are full of warmth and love, not disgust or regret. It makes you cry more, a horrible wail as you dive into his chest. He laughs as his arms wrap around you, comforting in these dark moments.

“I love you, you know? I have for a while,”

“Why? What do you see in me? What could I possibly have to attract you? I’m not—“

“Don’t say it. Don’t say ‘I’m not like other girls’, because everyone’s different. You make me want to be a better man, you make me excited for each new day. Nobody can compare to you,”

“I can’t.. I’m sorry, I can’t trust you. I’ve— I’ve been made fun of for too long, I want to trust you, I want to love you, I want to be with you, but I don’t know if my heart can take another one,”

“Another— what?”

“It’s a long story, I don’t want to bore you,”

“Baby, I’m not going anywhere,” he nuzzles your cheek, more tears spilling out as your chest tightens with love.

You decided to explain to him what happened in the past and how you trusted Hinata. Bokuto brought you to your room and made you some tea, brought a bottle of water, and also made you a snack. The thought of eating made you feel sick, but a pouty buff man had you slowly nibbling on the piece of toast. You hadn’t eaten since dinner the previous day, so you wanted to inhale it, but you didn’t think you could stomach it.

After explaining everything to Bokuto, you tried to laugh it off, saying it wasn’t a big deal, but he refused to accept that. A quick call to Hinata to let him know you were okay and that Bokuto would be taking a day off was the next step, letting Bokuto stay with you for the rest of the day. He didn’t want to leave you alone, the fear of almost losing you still making his heart race in a bad way. Even as you just scrolled through InstaGram on your phone, he worried if he left you’d go back to the dark headspace. He couldn’t stop it, but he figured he could prevent it.

The first thing to change your mood is get you in the shower.

When he bounced back into your room, you looked at him from your position. You looked exhausted, the toast only half eaten but the glass was empty. Bokuto shook his head and clicked his tongue. “You need to refresh yourself. Time to take a shower!”

“What are you, my dad? If you want me to do it then make me,” You muttered, snuggling back under the covers. Bokuto closed his eyes and sighed, trying to not say anything sexual.

“I will throw you over my shoulder and into the bathroom. Don’t underestimate me, [Y/N],” the bed dips as he sits on the edge. “I’ll strip you down and wash you if I have to,”

“Why are you so forceful? Damn,” you made it sound like a bad thing, but you were smiling. “Fine, I’ll shower. You don’t gotta wash me, I’m not a baby,”

“But you’re my baby?” He sounded so confused, you freezing half out of the bed. Clearing your throat, you continued.

“Uh, sure. Are you planning on leaving soon? Or..”

“Nope! I’m staying over. I’ll change the sheets while you shower, too!”

“Oh, okay,” you say, numbly getting up to get clothes. With the lack of clean clothes, you have a few shirts and some pajama pants, but your stomach twists as you realize why they’re clean. They don’t fit as nicely as the other clothes, so you face two options: reuse the hoodie you’re wearing or face the humiliation of putting on a tight shirt. Thinking of the restriction, you decide the hoodie would be best. A large pair of pajama pants and a pair of panties is all you take, but Bokuto notices the lack of clothes.

“Are you just changing your pants? You’re showering, right?” Hes rifling through his bag, planning on changing out his practice clothes while you’re in the shower. He doesn’t want to get your clean sheets dirty, after all.

“Um, I’m out of shirts, so.. I’ll just reuse the hoodie,” you shrug, not seeing a problem. His eyes light up as he holds a finger up, digging through his bag once more. Apparently, Hinata dropped it off while you were taking a nap, all that crying had exhausted you. Bokuto smiles brightly as he pulls out his own hoodie, the black hoodie with the golden MSBY brand and the Black Jackal claws. “I don’t think—“

“I’ve been dreaming of you in my hoodie for some time, so this is a perfect opportunity! I’d prefer you to wear this,”

“Uh, I’m pretty big, Bokuto. I don’t think it’ll fit, if I’m being honest,” you look down at the ground, the disgust from earlier rising in your chest. Bokuto just tilts his head to the side.

“I think it’ll fit. It’s pretty big on me, so it’ll fit. If it doesn’t, let me know. I’ll get you something else,” he just shrugs, holding out the hoodie. His name is on the back and in a way, it feels like he’s marking his territory. You take it, thanking him as you head towards the bathroom. If it didn’t fit, you didn’t know what you’d do.

When you finished washing up, you put on the clothes. As big as Bokuto was, you still didn’t expect the hoodie to fit. When it slid on easily, you were highly surprised, but also it took you a moment to collect yourself. Seeing you in his hoodie was something out of your wildest dreams, him even telling you he’s fantasized about it making your body hotter than it should be. You had to calm yourself down before exiting the bathroom, entering the bedroom to see him lying on the bed in sweatpants. That’s it.

“Where the hell are your clothes?!” You cover your face, spreading your fingers a bit to see him stand up excitedly.

“You look so good in my hoodie!” He hugged you tightly, lifting you up a bit.

“Don’t pick me up, put on a shirt!” The only thing separating your skin from his was the hoodie which, well, wasn’t very thick. The zipper itself was as high as it could go but still felt too low.

“Why? Don’t I look good? Are you uncomfortable?”

“Yes, you look good and I’m uncomfortable. This is just a weird situation,” you try to explain... as if you had a shred of dignity left. The laptop propped open with the opening of your favorite movie caught your attention. “Are you gonna watch a movie?”

“We’re gonna watch it! To make you feel better, of course!” He seemed so proud of himself, standing with his fists on his hips as he smiled. You shook your head, rolling your eyes.

“Okay, then. Do you want snacks?”

“Snacks?!”

After getting snacks for the movie, to which he fed you some while you fed him, you ended up falling asleep as you watched the movie. It was nice and warm under the covers and Bokuto’s body heat right next to you helped to lull you to sleep. He didn’t seem to notice you falling asleep until your head hit his shoulder, eyes closed as you peacefully slept. After pressing a kiss to your forehead, he closed to laptop and got comfortable under the sheets. The worry of him losing you was still there, but he kept his arms around you tightly in case it was a dream. Like you, he hoped it wasn’t.

Waking up wasn’t that bad, an urge to quench your dry throat a common thing to wake up to. What wasn’t common, however, was the thing poking your butt. Now fully awake, you tried to shoot up in bed to see what was going on but Bokuto’s arms held you down. It was then you realized what was poking you. Attempting to get his arms off of you was a hard feat, trying to squeeze out of the grip when he moaned. You froze and looked at his face, still asleep. Attempting to move again, he let out another one. It didn’t take a genius to figure it out.

He was having a wet dream. In your bed. Beside you.

Your immediate thought was who? Your next thought was me? You dismissed that idea, rolling your eyes as if that could happen. Well, until your name came past his lips. You were surprised to hear it, even if he showed and attempted to prove his feelings for you. Him dreaming of you subconsciously? It gave you confidence.

Enough confidence to wake him up and let him continue his dream in reality? No.

But, you didn’t think you’d have another dark episode anytime soon. He didn’t seem to relent his grip on your body, so you dealt with it, staring at the wall in the dark as he continued his noises. Well, at least until he bucked his hips. You gasped as he did, him waking up to your noise. “You ‘kay? Somethin’ wrong?”

Wide eyes looked at him, before glancing down and flickering back up. He follows your eyes and his face goes red. It’s hard to tell in the dark, but the moonlight coming in from the uncovered window illuminates enough. “I am so sorry, I’ll le—“

“Why?” You can’t stop yourself from asking, immediately smacking your forehead. He’s a bit confused from your actions, but you continue. “Um, I’d, uh- I’d like to know what you dreaming about.” Confidence? Yeah, right. You’re practically shaking from the fear of his answer. Of course, it was your name but you could’ve heard wrong, right? Yeah, you—

“My boner speaks for itself, doesn’t it?” Does he have shame? You just look at him so exasperated as he just stares at you, not too sure what you were expecting. “Or do you not know?”

“I— Okay. Was it me?”

“Who... who else would it be?”

“Oh, okay. Why?” You’re both so confused, you not understanding the appeal while he’s not understanding why it’s so weird. Or confusing.

“Why not? I’m in the bed with my girlfriend, longtime crush, who I find extremely attractive? Is this too much? Is it wrong for me to, um, wanna do that? Or dream about it?” No shame!

“I’m still having problems seeing things from your perspective, but okay. Still cannot see the appealing side of me, so it’s just... it’s weird for me to actually realize you like that. You actually,” you gulp, “like me,”

“I’ll say it as many times as I need to, [Y/N]. You’re perfect in my eyes. I want you to see that in your eyes, too,”

“I cannot, if ever, do that. Sorry,” you just shrug, going back to lay down. It isn’t long until he’s straddling you. “What are you doing?”

“I want to make you see things how I do. You gave me this,” he gestured to the bulge in his sweatpants. Looking at it too long scares you, the size scaring you more. “I want you,”

“Oh my god, I’m being dead serious now: you are not gonna like what you see. I’m not attractive, Bo,”

“Let me be the judge of that, hm?” It’s the only thing he says, but you hesitantly nod. He smiles and as much as you want to enjoy it, you’re still shaking. You have no idea what’s coming next, you don’t know what he’s gonna do once he sees what’s underneath and it scares you. So badly. His hands go underneath your—his hoodie, running over your skin. “If you’re scared, I can stop. I don’t want to push you into anything,”

“It’s not that, I just can’t see what you see. But I want to. I want to see myself in your eyes, if you can do that,”

“All you gotta do is give me a signal if you want me to stop. I’ll try my best but you’re gonna have to relax, baby,” he has no idea what his words are doing to you. You just nod as he smiles, leaning down to kiss your forehead. He isn’t rough and excited, but rather gentle and soothing. Hands running under the hoodie eventually go up to the zipper, slowly pulling it down. It’s a small thing, but you notice his eyes flickering to your face for any sign of distress. Evening your breathing, you let him completely pull the zipper down as your skin is completely bare to him. You hide your face in shame, ready to apologize and have a million excuses lined up, but he doesn’t let that happen when he starts licking your chest.

“Oh!” Your hands thread through his hair, softer than you expected as it barely brushes against your skin. His eyes are still on you, your fingers moving his strands away so he could clearly see you and you, him. The way his predatory gaze latches onto your face has heat pooling between your legs, rubbing them together to create some kind of friction. Keeping his tongue connected to your skin, his eyes on yours, he moves onto one of your breasts. Popping your nipple into his mouth, he swirls the perked nipple in his mouth as his hand tweaks your other nipple. You’re panting, your head is thrown back as he continues. Soon enough, just rolling your nipples in between his fingers is not enough.

Gathering spit in his mouth, he lets it dribble onto your skin. It’s warm and slick, when he smears it across your other breast as goes back to tweaking your nipples. You look down at what he’s doing only to find him grinning devilishly at you. He then goes down to your stomach, biting into the flesh there. “Bokuto!”

“What? I just wanna taste you,” he shrugs, before licking the area he bit. He has a lot of spit, too, sucking into your flesh and leaving behind a bite mark and his saliva. It’s.. kind of gross, but hot. When he comes back up to your face, he pushes his lips against yours so forcefully that you’re reeling back, mouth opening as he slips his tongue in. It’s a deep, passionate kiss as he runs his hands over your body, squeezing anything he can as he slips his fingers into your pants. “May I?”

“Of course.” Once he has the okay, he moves back down, occasionally leaving love bites as he does. Pulling down your pants, he finds himself face to face with your damp panties. You don’t have time to get embarrassed, however, when he sticks his nose into your crotch and licks the fabric. “What is up with you and licking?” You giggle, finding humor in it. He just pops back up, shrugging. You giggle again, throwing your head back in the pillows. He goes to pull down your panties, sliding them down your legs until they’re completely off. Except for his hoodie, you’re completely naked.

Now if only you could have his cum in you, then would his wet dream be complete. However, there was one more thing he’s always wanted to try, but he’s worried you’ll be against it. “Babe?”

“Is something wrong?”

“No! No! Nothing’s wrong!” He hates how your mind immediately goes negative. Your shoulders relax and your wide eyes slowly lessen as you realize nothing wrong, yet. “Um, can you sit on my face?”

“Bokuto, I don’t-“

“C’mon, please? I’ve always wanted to try it! Especially between them delicious thick thighs of yours,” he then licked his lips with a resounding moan. Although embarrassed, you roll your eyes.

“If I’m too heavy, let me know. I’ll— I’ll get off,” you prop yourself up on your hands, feeling his spit ooze down your body. “You have a lot of spit. Reminds me of how much you sweat,”

“I produce a lot of liquids, y’know?” If it wasn’t for his wiggling eyebrows as he widely grins, you would not know he meant it to be sexual.

“Lay down!”

“Yes, ma’am,” he excitedly gets on his back, his bulge much more prominent than before now that it’s just there. You can see it. You’re still hesitant, but eventually move to straddle his face. He helps you, easily maneuvering your dripping cunt over his mouth. With his strong hands, he forces you down on top of him to the point where your legs can’t keep you up. You attempt to get up, afraid you’re crushing him but he keeps you firmly planted on his face.

A growl erupts from his throat when he gets tired of your squirming, you halting your movements as you try to calm down. His thumbs run over the skin of your thighs to try and soothe you. And it works. You’re feeling lightheaded as he sucks and licks your cunt and probably makes it messier than it is. He brushes his teeth over your clit, sending shivers down your spine as you moan from the feeling. With a grin, you can tell, he gets to work on tongue fucking you as well as sucking on your clit. It isn’t long until your fingernails are digging into his abdomen as you let out a high moan as you come undone on his face. He moans himself, using his thick tongue to gather up every ounce you produced. He also makes a loud slurping noise as he cleans it up.

You move off of him, panting as you look at him. He looks absolutely blissed out, like he saw Nirvana and Heaven all at once. You smile at him, his own smile wide and proud. He immediately gets up, pushing hips lips against yours once more as he licks the corners of your mouth. He is quickly moving to pull down his sweatpants and boxers, but hesitates. “You sure you want this?”

“You aren’t allowed to stop now,” you giggle as he glows, pulling down his pants. Your eyes go wide as you realize how big he actually is. The bulge in his pants was nothing. It is scary, you wondering if it’ll fit.

“Everything okay? Do you— Do you not want it?” He sounds so sad, you immediately coo at him, forgetting the third leg he has.

“No, no, no baby! It’s just— you’re very big. I did not expect that. Just be gentle, yeah?”

“Of course!” Another kiss to your lips, this one more of a peck than a passionate open mouthed kiss. “Can you get on your hands and knees?” You listen to him, rolling over on your stomach before getting in position. This way, you don’t have to worry about seeing him and can focus on what he’s doing, so it’s better in a way. Really, Bokuto just wants to end the night with you on your back and he plans on having you shaking from multiple orgasms before it’s over. He guides his cock to your entrance, a shaky breath leave him as his tip brushes against your folds. You shiver yourself, feeling yourself about to cry, but you wait.

Once he pushes into you, the tears come out for a different reason. “I’m sorry, it’ll feel better in a moment,” he licks your cheek, nuzzling you. You nod as you try to relax, him continuing to push into you. It isn’t until he nudged against your cervix does he stop. Even then, he is still not completely in you. He focuses on evening his breathing, inhaling your shampooed hair. It’s hard to not blow his load so quickly, you squeezing him so tightly. You’re nice and snug, though, your walls eventually relaxing as he stays inside.

“You can— you can move, Bo,”

“Fuck yeah,” he grunts, pulling out only to roughly thrust into you. You lurch forward from the thrust, immediately dropping your mouth open to moan as he sets a steady pace. It’s not fast or slow, but he’s definitely rough with his thrusts. It’s the grunts that really do you in, the way his hands grab at your ass and hips, sounds of pleasure coming from his as sinks his cock into your cunt that has you tightening around him. With a mewl, you have another orgasm and he curses, a low “shit” coming out as he struggles to pull out. He leans down to put his mouth next to your ear, biting the shell as he continues. He doesn’t even break a sweat as he does, stilling himself deep inside you as he lets out a low groan, your eyes scrunch together as you whimper. His cum fills you up to the brim, his hips swiveling to make sure he’s all done.

Well, for that round.

You’re panting heavily as he leaves you, leaning back as he watches your legs shake. His cum oozes out of you, your cunt clenching as it makes more pour out. It’s a beautiful reality, but he wants more. You’re soon flipped onto your back as he is over you again, his hands on the back of your knees, pushing them up. It’s not uncomfortable, but it’s not a very comfortable position, either. Confusion is etched in your face as he does, but his lidded eyes as he licks his lips tell you he’s not done. You’re exhausted, but he’s not.

He wastes no time in sinking himself back into you, his eyes focused on your face as you moan. His grin is almost evil, the way his lips stretch as he bottoms out inside you before roughly thrusting into you. It didn’t take long for another orgasm to start to buildup in you, your head thrown back as your back arches, your head turned to the side as he leans down to lick and bite your collarbone, sinking his teeth into the soft flesh. His hands find yours, intertwining his fingers with yours as he brings them up to your head. You focus on the way his arms flex, the muscles bulging with each thrusts as he puts every ounce of effort into the action. It really shows to how much he loves you and your body.

Even with all the marks on your body, even with all the places he’s touched and licked, that gnawing thought of you worrying nags him. The thought that you’ll still not know just how much he loves you. The thought that you’ll think it was a one time thing. He needs to know you know. He needs to know you’re seeing things in his perspective now. One hand leaves yours, it finding itself around your throat.

“Say my name,” he grunts, alternating his gaze between your face and his cock disappearing inside you. It’s something he’ll never get over. Maybe next time, he can record you two.

“B-Bo—“

“No, my given name. I want you to scream it,” his grip on your neck gets tighter, your walls tightening at the same time. He groans as he throws his head back, his thrusts slowing down as he drags his cock against your walls. “I want your neighbors to know who’s fucking you,”

“You, Kōtarō!” You loudly moan, humming in pleasure as he picks up the pace.

“Who’s making you feel this good? Who does your little cunt belong to?”

“God, you! It belongs to Kōtarō!” You scream, your eyes rolling back as his hands go back to under your knees, pushing them up to your chest. It’s hard to breathe, but you’re clamping down on his cock as a sheen of white forms around it, your slick dripping down your ass and down his balls. The last urge he needed to fuck you like an animal was that, you screaming his name. Your ands wrap around his neck, the material of his jacket rubbing against his thick neck as your nails take down his back. Hissing, he fucks you faster and harder, determination set to get you to one more orgasm. It doesn’t take long, your mouth hanging open as you come undone for one last time, him burying himself as far as he can as he spills another load into you. It’s heavy and fulfilling, but it’s wonderful. A wonderful feeling of being loved.

As you both come down from your highs, he gives you another sloppy kiss. Instead of pulling out, he released your legs and lays on his side, taking you with him.

“Shouldn’t we clean up?”

“That can wait. I don’t wanna leave quite yet,” he pants out, another sloppy kiss. Like he can’t get enough.

Really though, he can’t. He loves you too much

#haikyuu x reader #bokuto x reader #Mr. Kōtarō #bokuto smut #BB.Kinky #BB.Angst #Bokuto.Angst #Bokuto.Spice #tw.alcohol #tw.suicide mention #tw.blood #cw.food #tw.fat shaming #cw.razors #body dysmorphia #body dysmorphic disorder #tw.overdose #haikyuu smut

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pascalscenarios · 3 years

Text

THE ONE (Frankie Morales x Reader)

THE ONE

Frankie Morales x Reader

Summary: After the ordeal with Frankie, You spend your time alone. In the mean time, Lilah plans on talking to you.

Warning: Mild Swearing

Words: 2,909

Authors Note: Hello! I hope you all are well! This chapter has me in my feels... I’m debating how long I should make this fic... I think I’m going up to 10, but we’ll see... Enjoy :) - K

CH 1 | CH 2 | CH 3 | CH 4 | CH 5 | CH 5.5 | CH 6 |

Chapter 6

You were locked up in your bedroom. You didn’t dare to come out and face Alex. They were sweet, giving you space for a couple of hours to deal with your feelings after the whole Frankie ordeal. You were curled up in your bed, your eyes puffy from balling your eyes out. You staring out the window watching the rainfall.

He told you he loved you. Frankie told you he loved you. You knew he loved you, but after all these years he still wanted to be with you? He had a whole decade to make things right with you, but he decided to swoop in last minute a week before your wedding to fuck things.

He also had no right to tell you how to feel about him. How did you feel?

You heard a knock on the door.

“Babe?” Alex says softly opening the door. They watch you lie there on the bed.

They walk over sitting at the foot of the bed.

“I’m sorry…” you whispered.

“Hun, you have nothing to be sorry about.” They rub your back comforting you.

You turn to face Alex, sitting up in bed, resting your back against the wall. You pulled the blanket up more, grabbing a pillow to clutch in your arms.

“I know you have a lot of questions.” your voice trembled.

Alex stays silent waiting for you to talk.

“When I went out with the girls clubbing, I got lost, I thought I called you, but I accidentally called Frankie. He came picked up, I crashed at his place, nothing happened, but I was hanging out with him today”

Alex looked relieved.

“But I haven’t been completely honest with you about Frankie…” You couldn’t look Alex in the eyes.

“The day we went cake testing, I told you Frankie was an old friend...he is an old friend. I’ve known him since I was a kid, but at one point we used to date...he’s my ex-boyfriend.” You confessed.

You kept spilling everything.

“I’ve never talked about him with you because I didn’t think I would need to. I didn’t think I would ever see him again. I found out why he left me, he has a daughter. I’m not mad at him at that, not one bit, but it just hurts that he didn’t tell me... and then he told me he still loved me. I know I shouldn’t care, because I’m not with him- I’m with you, but part of me does care-”

You scrunch your face, your lips trembling as you try to stop yourself from shedding tears, but they still manage to fall.

“Ever since he came back- I don’t know how I’m feeling and its suffocating, I’m so confused my head is just-”

“I think I should go,” Alex says.

“W-what?” Your eyes widen

“I think we need time apart” Your chest heaved as you heard them say that. Everything was crashing down on you. You bared your feelings and now he wants to leave you? The feeling you were getting felt exactly like the night Frankie left you.

“B-but the wedding is next week-”

“I know…” They move closer to the bed, grabbing a hold of your hands.

“I think you and I need to think things over alone. We need a couple of days to wrap our head around things, figure out what we want-”

“But I want you…Please don’t go, I’m sorry- ” You cried.

“Don’t be sorry. Look, it’ll only be a couple of days...After we thought about things, well come back and talk about us. We’ll figure things out, I promise, but right now, we need to think about if this is truly what we want, what you want.”

“Alex…”

“No matter what, I love you” They kiss you on the forehead, then leave the bedroom.

…

“My uncle Santiago who told me everything Rehma! The photos of the person in the shoebox was my dad’s childhood sweetheart. They’re Uncle Santi’s cousin. They called them Smiles” Lilah was laying on her bed, staring at a photo of you, Frankie.

“That’s crazy! What happened between them?” Rehma, Lilah’s best friend, was over their phone call.

“Me…” Lilah signs placing the photo down, rolling on to her back.

“What, what do you mean you?”

“You know how I didn’t meet my dad until I was five...Well, he was with Smiles at the time.”

“Right, your mom didn’t tell him about you…”

“...Because he was with Smiles…”

“What? That’s why your mom didn’t tell him?”

“I mean I guess, my parents weren’t serious. They didn’t last long, they thought it was best to remain friends. Obviously, my mom should have told my Dad about me, but I don’t think she wanted to ruin what he and smiles had, but ultimately he was the one that ended up doing that.”

“What do you mean?

“He left smiles and went after me… for a whole decade they had no idea about me.”

“What a mess!” Rehma gasped.

“Tell me about it! but I just feel bad he left Smiles in the dust like that. This is the love of his life!”

“What about you? How are you feeling about all this?” Rehma asked.

“I have him. He’s forever in my life now. He loves me, I do not doubt that ever. He’s always put me and my needs first, I mean obviously, he’s a dad, that's the job, but it’s time he puts himself first. I’m fifteen, I’m not a little girl anymore. I’m growing older, being more independent…I’ve never seen him be with anyone since the day he brought me home. I just want him to be happy you know.”

“Wow, that's-”

“That's why I'm going to talk to Smiles!” Lilah sits up in bed.

“Are you crazy?! What are you gonna do, pull a parent trap???”

“Some things like that…'' Lilah grabs the photo of you and Frankie, pulling out the shoebox that was hidden underneath your bed.

“I mean I think it’s cute you wanna set your dad up again with his childhood sweetheart, but what if this goes wrong?”

“Act now, think later, fuck it right?!” Lilah squeezes the phone between her shoulder and cheek, as she grabs her backpack, stuffing the boxes in.

“Moon!” Frankie shouted from the hallway.

“I gotta go!”

“Text me how it goes! If you need backup, call me!”

“Okay bye!”

“Moon?” Lilah quickly slips up the bag and hangs up the phone.

Frankie walks into Lilah’s room, finding her on the floor with her bag.

“Yeah, Dad?” She smiles.

“What are you up to?”

“Nothing..” She stands up, slinging the bag over her shoulder.

“Where are you going?” He asks to lean against the doorframe.

“Is it okay if I go to Rehma’s? We have homework and a project to do…” Lilah lied.

“You just go home from school…”

“I know, but she's freaking out about everything. Mrs. Pike is kicking our ass lately with everything.

“Yeah, just be home before-”

“Thanks, dad!” Lilah quickly walks up to Frankie kissing him on the cheek and bolts out the door.

“-Sunset!”

“Got it! Bye love you!” She called out. Lilah was standing outside her house. She pulls out her phone, looking in her notes for your address she took down in her notes.

“Alright, Smiles… Where do you live?”

...

You spent Valentine's day alone, curled up on the couch, a pile of junk food around you, watching your favorite romantic comedies. You were doing the same thing three days later. You were wearing pajamas, your hair disheveled, your eyes still puffy from crying. It has been a terrible week so far.

You avoid thinking about everything, just wanting to take time to do absolutely nothing and veg out.

You were eating ice cream from the carton when you heard your doorbell ring. You didn’t bother to get up and answer it. You just wanted to be left alone. The ringing became persistent. You groaned, setting the carton down on the couch and getting up to answer the door.

You open the door to find a letter on the ground with your name on it. You pick up the letter opening it.

Frontier Park @ 5:00 pm

You look up, scanning the neighborhood, there was no one around. Who could this be from? Alex? Maybe Santiago...Frankie?

You went back inside your house, checking the time. It was 3:45, almost noon. You looked at our messy living room. Maybe you should get out. You’ve been cooped up in the house for too long. You needed some fresh air and gained back a clear and unclouded mind.

…

You got changed and headed to the park. It was a nice day, with a slight cool breeze. You sat on the bench and overlooked the pond. You sat there admiring the beautiful flowers and the cute ducks that swam on the pond.

From the corner of your eye, you see someone walking towards you. It was a young girl. As she gets closer to you, you realize who she was. You stand up as she approaches you.

“H-hi…” she stutters, stopping in front of you. “I’m-”

“Lilah” you gasp. You couldn't help but smile. She looked just like Frankie. You couldn’t believe she was standing in front of you.

You extend your hand out, introducing yourself. You both sat down on the bench.

“I can’t believe I’m meeting you right now…” Lilah says in a bit of shock.

“I can’t believe I’m meeting you either...I’m guessing you’re the one who left the letter at my doorstep. Are you alright? Did something happen? Is Frankie okay?” You were concerned for her, Frankie even. You had no idea why you were meeting her, but if she needed anything, you were willing to help her.

Lilah smiled. You were just like Santiago in her eyes. You were concerned and caring just like him. “Yes, I am. Everythings fine, I’m fine...Dad’s... Sorta okay I guess…” she says awkwardly.

“I’m sorry ambush you like this-”

“No! It’s alright... I - Just- How did you find me? How do you even know who I am?” Had Frankie told her about you?

“Uncle Santiago…”

“Of course” you rolled your eyes, chuckling.

“I went to Uncle Santi’s house, he answered questions I had…I found your address in the junk drawer in his kitchen...I wanted to talk to you about you and my dad... Uncle Santiago to me everything…”

You stiffen. Why the hell would your cousin air out all your dirty laundry with Frankie out on his Daughter?

“My dad has an old Shoebox filled with old photos of the two of you hidden in the back of the hallway closet.” She pulled the shoebox out of her bag, handing it to you.

You take the lid off staring down at a stack of photos.

“I would catch him staring at them from time to time. I used to look through these photos without him knowing. I always wondered who you were. I knew you must have been someone important to him. My best was that you two dated, Uncle Santi, confirmed that, but I found Dad bringing it back out for the first time in a long time, about a month ago. He’s been different lately. He’s sad. He tries to hide it from me, acting like he’s fine, but I can see right through him.”

You shuffle through the photos, a sad smile on your face at the memories they brought back to you.

“I just wanted to apologize, I know what happened between you and my dad… I know I’m the cause-”

“No no no.” You shake your head, setting the photos down in the box between you, placing your hand on her back.

“Lilah, that wasn’t your fault. What happened between Frankie and I is between us. Your Dad needed to go after you, and I don’t blame him one bit for doing that, that would be selfish of me.”

“I wish he would have told you about me. I think it’s terrible that he left without saying anything. And all those years without knowing-”

“I wish he would have told me too, but what’s most important is that he has you. You’re all he needs”

“Yeah he does have me, but what he needs is you. You’re his missing piece to his puzzle. He could never love someone as much as he loves you and me.”

“Lilah…” You turn away from her, tears starting to form in your eyes at what she said.

“Look, I know you’re getting married a-and I know my dad hurt you, but I think you should be with him. You’re the love of his life...You’re the one that got aw-”

“Lilah!” You hear a man shout.

You see Frankie walking towards you both.

“Oh, shit” Lilah murmurs quickly standing, grabbing the shoe box, she had no time to hide away in her bag as well as you.

“Lilah!” He was angry. You quickly stand up

“Dad!-”

“Lilah what-” He stops talking, taken back by you standing beside his daughter.

“Smiles?” He furrowed his eyebrows at you confused. He turns his focus back on his daughter.

“Lilah, what the HELL are you doing?!”

“Dad, I-”

“You lied to me about where you were going?! You left your books at the house, I went over to Rehma’s, only for her parents to tell me you weren’t over there!”

“Dammit, I forgot to tell her the plan..” Lilah mumbled, closing her eyes.

“Lilah, what are you even doing?! And why are you here with my daughter?” He pointed at you. His eyes catch the box “Where did you get that?” he looks up at Lilah

“The hallways closet…I-I know about you and smiles…”

His chest heaves. “What is this?” He turns his attention towards you, staring at you tensely. “You are trying to get back at me for all the shit I did?! You really gotta drag my kid into this?!” he yelled.

“Frankie-” you tried to explain, but he wouldn’t let you speak

“I know I fuck up, but this is low! You don’t go meeting up with my kid and talk about our business! Why would you even-”

“I’m the one that asked them to meet me here!” Lilah spoke up.

“Lilah, how do you even know-”

“Uncle Santiago told me. He told me everything. Valentine's day when I told you I was a Rehma, I was at Uncle Santi’s house. I’ve known about the shoebox for years, Dad…”

He scoffs. “Of course he fucking did...Why are you here with smiles?”

“...I was…” Lilah looks down at the ground.

“You were what, Lilah?”

She sighed. “..I was trying to get them to take you back…”

“Oh god…” Frankie groans, rubbing his face.

“Dad, I’m-”

“Lilah! You can’t be serious right now!!!” he began to yell again.

“Dad, you're sad! I can see past the fake smiles and the facade you put up! I’ve seen the way you look at those photos! I thought I could-”

“You have absolutely NO right doing what you did!!! Lying to me, going behind my back, and getting involved in things you don’t understand and that are none of your business!!! You need to apologize to Smiles right now.”

Lilah turns to face you. “I’m sorry…” She whispers, you see the tears forming in her eyes.

“Go wait for me in the truck-”

“Dad-” she croaks.

“I said go wait in the truck. We’ll finish this conversation at home.” He says strictly.

Lilah listened to her father, quickly walking in the direction of the parking lot.

Frankie felt embarrassed and humiliated. He was angry with his daughter that she would put him in a situation like this.

“Frankie-”

“Don’t, Smiles...Just don’t.” He played his hands on his hips, his head hung low. He turns around, his back towards you. He stares off at the forest a few yards away.

“She meant well, Frankie…”

“Yeah, but nothing she does or planned on is going to change anything…” he chuckles.

“You’re still going to get married.” He turned to face you. He was crying.

It was the first time in a long while since you saw him cry. He bottled up his feelings, but he finally found his breaking point.

“I thought it was gonna be us you know. You were it for me. You were the one, but I fucked things up. I fucked things up so bad.” He cried, his eyes growing red. “I should have told you about Lilah. I should have never left you like that, the way that I did. I’ve regretted it every day. We’d probably still be together. A-and now you’re about to get hitched to someone that isn’t me in a couple of days.That should me! I should be the one waiting to see you walk down that aisle, that should be me you’re walking towards, not Alex…”

You hadn’t realized you were crying.

“I’m gonna have to live with that for the rest of my life.”

“Frankie..” you breathed. He walked up towards you, grabbing your side of your face, passionately kissing you. The kiss was desperate, he pulled you closer to him. He needed to kiss you one last time. You both pull away breathless, but he sneaks a few more short kisses before you both rest your foreheads against each other.

“I love you so much, Smiles... I’m sorry for everything.” With that, he pulls away from your grasp, walking away.

He leaves you standing alone.

Tags // @icanbeyourjedi @im-an-adult-ish @sara-alonso @lydiascottage @eternalkara

#triple frontier #Frankie Morales x Reader #francisco morales #frankie morales #Frankie #frankie catfish morales #pedro pascal #pedro

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b612sunsets · 3 years

Note

i'm curious about your expectations/ thoughts on the ep 9 preview. Can we expect a post on it like you did for the ep 8 preview?

Hii~

I wasn't going to make one for episode 9 bc I think it looked more clear than the other previews of what to expect and what will happen now that everything fell into place. So maybe there wouldn't have a need for people to read what I have to say BUT I'll do it rn for you in this ask since you asked for it :3

First, we have at least two scenes with Sunah interacting with Yohan and she says in the one in front of a car: "Not people like Heo Joong Se and Cha Kyung Hee, you should take over the country".

To which Yohan answered:

A shepherd dog is known to herd and guard sheep. We've seen Sunah mention before in episode 7 that "the wolf broke into the ranch and got too violent" and the sheep would get scared and violent too, which made things easier for Sunah to take over the Foundation, that's why she wasn't surprised nor worried when Yohan announced the war against the nation. So here we have her directly tell him that she wants him to keep doing the job of leading and scaring the sheep (the corrupt powerful politicians) out of the way bc it's benefiting her and it's their enemy in common.

It seems Sunah is planning some type of tactic to reach her goals through the public on a planned/directed live court show or independent video with Yohan following her instructions. If not him, someone else but I think it's him, maybe Jinju and Gaon too (?) because when she's fixing Yohan's tie she's using the same blue outfit (She dresses so well, is so cute and beautiful and I feel sorry for what she went through, I can understand some things she has done but I'm not capable of liking her or defend her in all the other things).

Yohan and Gaon, Yohan must have talked with him about it now that they're a team, knows she is using them and maybe they will cater to her every whim and cooperate for now and strike later on when it's time to get rid of her. Just like Sunah will probably want to do with Yohan.

We see Yohan is fulfilling his promise of finding the people responsible for Gaon's parents death and make them pay for it. The fraud guy (Gaon's sworn enemy in Yohan's words) and the ones that helped to get him out of jail: Cha Kyung Hee's husband and Cha Kyung included bc Yohan has to avenge Elijah and K as well.

The president said something about creating a much more loyal group and giving them "the job" while the preview showed the people fighting on the streets. I think it has a relation with Yohan and the rebels/radicals civilians. He will try to use them in his favor? Yohan has been worried and watching them closely for some episodes now, his extremist fan base. Remember I could be wrong in all this haha

AND THE PART WE'RE ALL EXCITED FOR (why are we like this):

Gaon arrived in the address the fraudster is living (with Yohan's help from what we see or Gaon went there without telling him and Yohan knew he would do that and followed him to stop him) and as expected Gaon gets angry that this scumbag is living peacefully out of jail after everything he has done and tries to barge in but Yohan doesn't let him. "Is your hunt the only one that counts?" Gaon says and Yohan explains in other words: "of course not babe, but what's the fun in just entering and punching him to death? lmao no, let's come back later, you can strangle him like you've seen me do two times before and when we're finished we put his house on fire and make it seem like he got killed by accident" or some Yohan sh*t like that. It could be the opposite, fire first, choking later. Or not, many possibilities.

BTW, Yohan in a leather jacket while being his devil little self will be so 🔥 same with Gaon being encouraged by said daddy devil on his first murder................ no seriously why do I find it hot and nice when it's the two of them doing things like that in this drama, wtf. I'm SO Gahan biased and whipped for them, it's not even funny.

Is it too much to ask for some angst and comfort even if not in this episode? We've discussed it here.

Gaon feeling guilty and shaken after killing a person for the first time or becoming too uncontrollable. Yohan getting concerned of Gaon hurting himself and completely losing the good/selfless side that he admires in him even if he wanted them to be partners in crime. Yohan comforting Gaon and afraid of putting Gaon's life in danger. Same with Gaon, always taking Yohan's side and defending him through thick and thin. If he already put his life on line before for Yohan, he would do it now because he can't see a world without Yohan and Elijah.

They would be two idiots telling each other "Go ahead and kill person x, I can even help you, but don't you dare get killed or I'll kill you myself and Elijah will be the one helping", "Things went wrong, someone has to take the fall, it has to be me" and "We're in this together. I'm not leaving you behind or alone ever again. We both know how that feels". Alright, I'm getting too carried away, emotional and 🤡. That's what ffics are for.

I'M WAITING FOR MY GAHAN HUG.

That's it, anon! Sorry and I hope you liked it :')

#the devil judge #the devil judge analysis #the devil judge theories #?#answered asks

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azucanela · 4 years

Note

Can i please have a headcanons for Keigo and Shinsou with a female s/o that really likes manga and anime but keeps it a secret from others because they talk shit and make fun of her? and like one day they accidently find out and she's kinda embarressed about it but they convince her that everything is fine and they think ist cute how happy they are when they talk about something she loves? Uwu :9 (sorry for my bad english)

secret anime and manga fan s/o headcannons [ft. keigo takami, shinsou hitoshi]

SUMMARY: Y/N has been hiding the fact that she likes anime and manga from her lovely boyfriend for a while now, fearing he’d find it weird. now, she has no choice but to address the fact that he knows.

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

WARNINGS: threats

A/N: your english is great bb! uwu owo this was relatable askdakjhds if anyone tells you there is something wrong with watching anime or reading manga, let me tell you that they are WRONG. i will fight them for you<3

KEIGO TAKAMI | PRO HERO HAWKS

you used to talk about animes you liked because at the end of the day they are tv shows thats it, same with mangas, they are like books but cooler lol

but people found that “weird” for some reason, because anime is a “cartoon” and thats so gross omg haha these “cartoons” make me sob um watch a silent voice and cry with me kids

anyways

you’re watching anime in the comfort of your home, just vibing. no one is coming over today, you have time to yourself to enjoy your lil show that nobody should be judging you for

well, you thought no one was coming over

keigo has a tendency to just like, show up at your house sometimes when hes bored or in the midst of an uneventful patrol. though he rarely is seen in public, especially on the streets, he does fly-bys constantly

anyways, he was bored, or just relieved of duty for whatever reason, like lunch. he is having chicken nuggets, he is a cannibal, be ashamed H A W K S, smh

anyways, he just shows up at your house, like he lowkey breaks in through the balcony of your apartment, but its fine because you leave it open for him, but normally he texts you to let you know he’s coming but today was the exception because he’s adorable and wanted to surprise!!! you!!! with!!! food!!!

so he comes in, and he sees you are on your couch, just watching your lil anime, and you are SO INTO IT MAN like you are lowkey yelling at the TV whenever a character does something, and when that one character you hate comes on you’re like throwing hands with nothing

keigo is internally screaming because why are you so CUTE

he kinda forgets for a second that you don’t know he’s there, he has no idea what’s going on in this show, and he’s still holding chicken nuggets and fries

this is why he just kinda screams at a character who does something stupid, that totally could’ve been avoided, effectively startling you

now you are both screaming for separate reasons as you turn around to look at him, and now you are panicking because oh no, he KNOWS

his wings are fluttering and he feels bad for scaring you as he comes up to wrap his arms around your shoulders, “sorry baby! but that guy is so dumb.”

you are MORTIFIED and now you’re like, “oh my god, you must think im so weird-”

keigo is confused, why would he think that? he genuinely doesn’t realize that people make fun of you for watching anime and he’s so confused by it when you inform him that a lot of people tend to find it weird

“what?”

“people think its weird so i just-” hahahhasdha keigo lowkey wants to take time out of his day in his professional agency to find out who told you it was weird and made you think you had to hide this from him because he wants to know everything about you! you are the love of his life! you shouldn’t feel the need to hide things!

now he feels like maybe he did something to make you think you had to hide your love for anime even though it is literally adorable to watch you

“baby, it’s not weird. i actually think its cute how angry you get at the characters. and i AGREE like how could he just do that-”

“wait you don’t care...?” you are BLUSHING because he thinks you are CUTE not that you didn’t know this already since he was dating you but like

omg

“of course not, also would you mind restarting this anime, im kind of invested- oh and i brought chicken nuggets”

you lowkey wanna cry he’s so cute

he can tell you don’t believe him so he sets the food down on a coffee table and takes your face in his hands and is all like, “baby. i promise you its fine. and adorable. now let’s restart this show so i can watch with you.”

he winks at you and now you’re like, “whatever no i am NOT restarting.”

then he gets all pouty but its fine he doesn’t need to understand the plot to watch with you and enjoy every moment, he also likes when you explain it really excitedly with all these hand movements, and he especially enjoys when you get mad at characters

he finds it hot

hates when you have a crush on a character he gets so jealous and is not afraid to show it kjahsdahsdsh mans will start hating the character just because you keep talking about how hot they are

“they’re just so BEAUTIFUL.”

keigo, self consciously touching his winds, “im beautiful too...”

he’s so cute

throws popcorn at the screen whenever that character comes on

SHINSOU HITOSHI

hahjsdgjasgdj

THIS BOY is so pretty

anyways you probably fell asleep reading manga, or watching anime or something like that, so it’s like 1AM and you were BINGING because that stuff is great and nobody is there to bother you while you read and watch and stuff its you time

and for some reason people have been opposed to this in the past? so now whenever people come to your room your manga are all like lowkey hidden and you make sure there is no evidence of anima

you did NOT want shinsou finding out and thinking you were weird or anything like that, even though liking anime and manga is NOT weird!!!

if anyone tells you other lmk and i will have strong words with them

so you fell asleep and shinsou comes over because he realizes he forgot something in your room, and like the GENTLEMAN he is, he knocks, but you are asleep and do not hear him!

he’s like eh worst case scenario she’s cheating on me and i end up heartbroken, and this is something he genuinely considers sometimes and he would definitely blame himself if he got cheated on

so he sees you sleeping and you are like a mess because you did not intend to fall asleep, so you’re like in your desk chair, the manga is wide open on your desk or your computer is on and there’s the still going anime aksjdhkjdhas

your neck is in a weird funky way that’ll probably hurt in the morning and shinsou is like oh no i gotta move her i dont want her in pain, he is also wondering why you look so cute because what the hell this is unfair stop it

tbh he probably barely notices the manga, like he’ll just nonchalantly close it and place it on your bedside table because reading manga isn’t weird before coming back to you, in the chair, and like picking you up to put you in bed

now you AWAKEN AND YOU ARE A L E R T because it hits you pretty fast that shinsou is here, this is NOT a dream, he probably saw your manga/anime, and now hates you and is carrying you to your death

this is all false

in the midst of your panic, you knock the both of you down onto the ground, and he’s feels so bad for allowing the two of you to fall nkjasdjakn poor bb

“Y/N im so sorry-”

“hitoshi why are you apologizing?”

he just ignores that and he comes over to you on the floor but your gaze is on the closed computer on your desk or the manga that was placed on your bedside table that you DEFINITELY DID NOT PUT THERE

he saw, he definitely saw, and now you are babbling about how weird he must think you are because of those JERKS who made you think anime and manga are weird

“what are you talking about?”

“well, people always told me how weird it was and sometimes they would... say things”

shinsou quickly realizes you were bullied because you liked manga and anime and stuff like that and now he is contemplating murder <3 what a lovely boyfriend

as someone who has experience with bullying himself, he finds this especially stupid, its literally just a show and book, and kinda wants to ask you the names of the people who told you these things so he can hunt them d o w n

instead shinsou prioritizes you and your insecurities first, “babe... no. its just anime? there’s no problem with watching it. whoever told you that was just a jerk.” jk he uses more colorful vocabulary

shinsou is completely ready to spend the next hour convincing you that there is nothing to worry about because there really isn’t

“so you don’t think its weird?” his heart almost breaks when he hears your voice and he just nods and gives you a lil smile

“not at all... actually i was wondering what was so interesting that you stayed up until” he’s looking at the time, “2AM.”

now you’re blushing but you still launch into an explanation of the entire anime and honestly anime/manga plots are so extensive and cool and well done and that just makes them so fun and complicated to explain

shinsou is trying his hardest to understand but you are very cute as you explain using lots of vivid hand gestures and adorable faces and wow he’s been distracted

will try his hardest to understand so that you can talk with him about it more often, genuinely finds it great watching you tell him about something you enjoy so much and hates that you felt the need to keep it a secret

he wonders how many times you hid away the manga or anime when he came over and feels like an inconvenience

anyways he really really really likes you so now he just listens as you rant about how cute certain characters are and lowkey gets jealous

“WHY IS HE SO HOT.”

“he’s not... that hot.” grumbling and stuff as he plays with the edge of his sleeve and borderline glares at the screen.

A/N: i hope this wasn’t bad akshfjakshdkjh

#shinsou hitoshi x reader #shinso hitoshi x reader #shinsou x reader #shinso x reader #hitoshi x reader #hitoshi shinso x reader #hitoshi shinsou x reader #keigo takami x reader #keigo x reader #takami keigo x reader #keigo headcannons #shinsou headcannons #shinso headcannons #hawks x reader #hawks x you #shinsou x you #keigo x you #shinso x you

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mas-o-kissed · 4 years

Text

The Important Questions

Here’s a short hypno story that’s been on my mind!

This is a horror/fantasy story involving complete amnesia and total rewriting of the main character’s identity. Depending on how you feel about that, the ending is either sad or happy. Warning if you don’t like the idea of someone’s memories being slowly taken from them one at a time until they’re completely empty....

---

There was a monster in the forest.

Alexander knew this as he crept between the trees, watching for shadows and listening for the small rustling sounds that would let him know he wasn’t alone.

There was a monster in the forest, living in a strange, towering castle of winding trees and moss. He felt along the thick swath of trees for hints of a hidden doorway, for a narrow groove or a pane of glass that would let him know he’d discovered the monster’s lair. He’d sneak in. He’d catch it by surprise. He’d kill it.

As he ran his thumb over the dagger in his pocket, he felt a crack inside a thick, moss-covered trunk. It was a door.

He had one chance to do this. The monster wasn’t a massive beast, or a bent creature with sharp teeth and claws. It was thought that it looked like a person. It would disarm you with a smile, gently stride up to you, and begin asking questions. With each question it asked, the answer would fade away from your mind, slowly taking bites out of your identity, devouring you until you were empty. Then, it would fill you back up with its own answers, reforming you into exactly what it wanted you to be. Alexander’s only chance was to catch it before it could open its wicked mouth, stab it through the heart, and bring its head home as a trophy. He’d let everyone know that no monster in the woods could hold power over them anymore. He’d be a hero.

He slipped his fingers into the crack and slowly opened the door.

“What are you doing here?” The voice behind him was even and calm.

I’m here to kill you, responded his mind.

I’m h██e █o k███ you.

I’m ████ ██ ████ you.

██ ████ ██ ████ ███

“Fuck,” groaned Alexander, holding his head as the answer slipped away. What was he doing there? Was he supposed to be there? He shook his head, trying to grasp the memory that had just been lost. He whipped around. A young man leaned against a tree, smiling casually, hands in his pockets. He didn’t look like a monster. He was almost pretty. And yet...

“I know who you are,” said Alexander.

“Oh?” responded the monster, “And who is that?”

“I... you’re... no... no, no, no...” Alexander fumbled for a sheet in his pocket. He read the words, the note he’d written to himself that very morning:

Your name is Alexander Whitmore. You’re in the forest so you can kill the monster that lives in the hidden castle. You live in Woodhill Creek.

He read the wrinkled sheet in his shaking hands. Yes. He was there to kill the monster. This man had to be the monster. Didn’t he? He reached for the dagger in his pocket.

“I see you’ve thought ahead,” said the monster, as he let out a small laugh, “Tell me, brave warrior, what does that sheet of paper in your hand say?”

“It says...” As the magic took over his mind, the words began to swim and dance on the paper, becoming impossible to keep track of, impossible to read. “That’s... that’s not fair. They told me you couldn’t do that... you’re not supposed to be able to do that...”

“Who told you that?”

“Uhhh... Hmm...” Alexander responded helplessly.

“Clearly, they were wrong.”

Alexander gritted his teeth. He had to focus. He knew there was something he needed to do. He needed to do something to this person in front of him. He felt the dagger in his pocket. Pulled it out. Yes. It had to be this. He lunged towards the man before him. He dodged easily out of the way, sending Alexander tumbling forward onto his hands and knees.

“Ha ha! What’s that in your hand? What are you trying to do with it?”

He looked at the... something... the thing in his hand. What was it? What was it for?

“I-I don’t know,” he said, dropping it onto the ground.

He couldn’t quite figure out what was happening, but he knew it was something bad. He had to get away. He still knew who he was. He still knew his name. He knew where he lived. He picked himself up off the ground and ran.

He heard the voice of the... the... someone... calling after him.

“Where are you going in such a rush?”

Alexander stopped. Looked around. The forest he knew so well felt like a winding, spiraling maze. The man strolled over to him, grabbed him by the chin, made him look him in the eye.

“Where do you live, brave warrior?”

“I... I live...” He felt all memories of his home fading away into nothing. “I’m not sure. I think I’m lost. Can you help me?”

“Of course,” he said, “I’m always happy to help a friend.”

“A... friend? I’m sorry to be rude but... I don’t remember who you are. Can you tell me your name?”

The man grinned, wickedly. Was it normal for a person to have so many teeth? Alexander couldn’t quite recall the people he’d known... wherever he was from. “You can call me Erolith.”

“Erolith...”

“That’s right... What’s your name?”

“I... uhh... hmmm...” he held his head, trying to will his name into his mind, but it wouldn’t come. “I... I don’t know. That’s not normal, right? I should know something like that...” he let out a nervous laugh. He wasn’t sure why he was laughing. Erolith laughed with him.

“It’s perfectly fine. Maybe you never had one.”

“No, no...” he said, “I’m pretty sure I did. I’m from... somewhere. I have a name. I’m... a person. I know some things about myself.”

“Oh? Like what?”

“Ummm...”

“Who are you?”

With those words, his eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed into Erolith’s arms. His mind was empty. He was no one.

+++

He saw a ceiling. It was made of branches tightly woven in intricate patterns. He did not know where he was. He did not know what he was. He sat up.

The small room had walls of wood and moss. It was rustic but immaculately clean and incredibly beautiful. He was on a bed made from something soft and plush and warm. It felt nice.

“Oh good,” he heard a voice say from the doorway, “You’re awake.”

“Erolith,” he responded, “I know you. I remember you.”

“That’s very good. Anything else?”

“Umm... no. Could you please tell me who I am?”

“Oh, you don’t remember?” Erolith responded, walking closer to the bed. “You’re my servant.”

“I’m... your servant?”

“That’s right.”

“Wow...” he smiled. He was someone. He was someone to Erolith. That made him happy. “Can you tell me my name, please?”

“My dear,” said Erolith, a gently mocking tone in his voice, “You don’t have one.”

“Oh,” he said, confused. He should have a name, right? One needed to have something for others to call them.

“Would you like a name, pet?”

“Yes. Yes, please.”

“Fine then,” Erolith ruffled his hair. “Your name is Zero.”

“My name is Zero.”

“It suits you.”

“Thank you... um... how do I address you?”

“You may call me Master.”

He ran over it all, glad to be someone, glad to have an identity. “I’m your servant. My name is Zero. Thank you, Master.”

Erolith gently clasped Zero’s chin, running a thumb over his mouth. “I’m going to have so much fun with you, Zero.”

Zero’s heart fluttered. He hadn’t imagined that the person he was could be so lucky.

End.

#hypnosis #mind control #my writing #hypnokink #hypnosis story

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lucifers-horror-harem · 3 years

Text

Alan Sharpe N SFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Alan is all about the aftercare, especially when he is much rougher with you. He will tenderly massage your muscles, thumbs stroking over where he bound you if restraints were involved. He kisses over every single bruise and bite, soothing the skin as you whimper and sigh into his touch. He gives you as many cuddles as you need, burying his face in the crook of your neck or in your hair as he inhales your scent. Alan also helps you clean up as well, grabbing a damp towel to wipe you down, though he has to admit seeing you squirm as he touches your overstimulated sex makes him want to go again.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Alan loves his hands the most just from how well he can manipulate your body with them. They're much bigger compared to yours, and he can't help but love the way you shiver as his hands manipulate your body as he pleases. Just the way they look while he is groping you, holding you, pinning you down, it drives him absolutely wild.

When it comes to you, Alan has a difficult time choosing, though if he HAD to he would probably say your thighs. He just loves the way they tremble around him while he pounds into you, how you wrap them around him to keep him close. The way the curve of your ass perfectly meets the beginning of your thighs, your perfect ass and sex on display for him to devour. Close second would be breasts, he simply can't get enough of how lovely yours look. Doesn't matter how big or small, he is obsessed with the way they look and constantly peppers kisses over them and of course playing with your pretty nipples.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

While Alan admits you look absolutely perfect covered in his cum, he prefers to cum inside of you the most. He loses himself as he tries to stuff you completely full of him, pushing any that spills out back inside of you. He gets so overwhelmed seeing you so full of him, his massive breeding kink taking over as he fantasizes about filling you over and over until you finally become pregnant with his child.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Before he kidnaps you to live your life with him, he had installed cameras and surveillance equipment wherever he could, but mostly in your home. He watched you constantly when you would go home after work and on your days off. But what got him riled up the most were when you would play with yourself in bed, pumping his cock as he watches and listens to you fuck yourself, wondering if you're thinking of him while doing it. Expect him to enter your home as well, never disturbing the space so you never know. The only time you question something was up was when a pair of your used panties simply disappeared. You don't realize until he later admits it to you when you're living with him that he used them to jack off while watching you. Sometimes he wraps them around his cock, other times he presses them against his face as he pumps his cock.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Alan has plenty of experience, as he was married once before and had way more sexual encounters on top of that. He's in his fifties after all, and a bachelor/had fuck buddies for most of his life. He knows exactly what to do to you.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He loves any position where he can see your face, always wanting to see just how you lose control while he fucks you. Alan loves seeing how someone as composed as you becomes a writhing needy mess all because of him. Is also partial to doggy style, as it allows him to be more primal and rough with you, shoving your face into the pillows as he has his way with you, your ass wiggling against him as you clutch the sheets desperately as you can do little more but hang on.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Most of the time Alan is serious, putting all his effort and focus into making you lose yourself from his affections. He is capable of being a bit silly and light, especially if you start it first. All you have to do is give him a little bit of teasing, maybe engaging in a playful game of chase before he catches you, whispering how naughty you've been and you suggesting with a bat of your eyelashes that he should do something about it. Sometimes the playful teasing helps relieve him of the stress of a long workday.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He keeps himself fairly tidy and trims occasionally though his hair is very curly and unruly. Alan prefers not to shave or wax, so he has quite a bit of body hair. He loves when you run your fingers through his chest hair or play with the curls of his happy trail while you sink to your knees before him. If you really would like to try it, he might shave his balls for you though it would only be for special occasions.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

For a man who tends to be more rough during sex, Alan can be surprisingly romantic and sweet during it. It's probably due to his endless dirty talk and praise, telling you just how good you're doing for him and sweetly telling you how beautiful you look when you take him. He also loves to give plenty of kisses during as well, as he just can't keep his mouth off of you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Before he kidnaps you, Alan masturbates constantly to the thought of you and how you will feel when he finally has you. He still jacks off a lot once he kidnaps you as well, expecting a certain amount of adjustment on your part to get used to this new situation. And if you're a virgin or inexperienced, he jacks off a lot more in order to whet his appetite as you slowly allow him to do more and more to you. Afterwards though, he doesn't jack off nearly as much unless he is on a business trip and you can't come with him. He expects you to be able to take care of his needs as they arise.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

His kinks are numerous. He has a massive breeding kink, wanting nothing more than to have a little family with you. Very big on Dom/Sub dynamics with him being the Dom. His Daddy kink is also very high on the list, and he prefers you call him daddy pretty much all the time. Alan also loves bondage on his partner, whether it's simple restraints or elaborate rope design. Is also a big fan of spanking/impact play, blindfolding, and other sensory kinks. Anything that makes his partner rely on him gets him hot too, as he loves the control and feeling like your protector. Has a thing for stockings and long socks on you as well. A darker fantasy of his involves corruption kink, and if you're a virgin or inexperienced he revels in the opportunity to absolutely ruin you. There are plenty more but these are his biggest kinks.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Alan really isn't keen on most public sex as he is very possessive over you and doesn't want anyone to see you in such a vulnerable position. But if it is in a secure location with only the two of you, he is certain to take advantage of the situation. There have been many instances of fucking in the back seat of his cars, over his desk in his office (if he is feeling particularly risky), and in many places where the two of you are able to sneak away from other people. But mostly he prefers you on his bed with the softest sheets and mattress he can get. But when it comes to his home, he has made it a point to fuck you on every surface in every room.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Honestly, the sight of you is enough to make him go wild. But if you really want to tease him, wear a pair of short shorts with thigh high stockings or socks and just go about your daily tasks as if nothing is wrong. Most of the time you won't even have to tease him more than that. Any other obvious ploys for his attention like lingerie or bending over to pick something up will have him on you in an instant. The sight of you cooking or baking gets him going too, especially if you're wearing an apron.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

There isn't much that Alan won't try with you if you ask, but sharing is a hard no. The thought of anyone else having you makes him see red, and he would kill whoever tried to get close to you before it even happened. He might even kill the other person if you even suggest them just to teach you a lesson.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He truly can't decide, but he has to say he could sit between your thighs all day if he could. He can't get enough of you, softly nipping and kissing and sucking hickies into your inner thighs, making you twitch and writhe for him. And that isn't even addressing what he does to your cunt, eagerly licking and drowning in your slick. He absolutely will make obscene slurping noises if he knows it embarrasses you. He loves fingering your sopping wet pussy as he teases your clit with his tongue. Feel free to grip his hair as tightly as you can, he loves it when you lose control and he feels your walls tighten around his fingers as he looks up at you with those pretty blue eyes of his and watches the exact moment you come undone from his touch.

But Alan can’t deny he loves watching you suck his dick. Rough and fast or slow and sensual, he doesn’t mind at all. He loves watching tears prick the corners of your eyes as you gag around his length, your fingers digging into his thighs. If you’re up for it, he will happily fuck your mouth as well, holding your head down as you try to hang on for the ride ahead of you. But his favorite has to be oral cock warming. After a long day at work, he loves the idea of sitting in his chair and watching you sink down to your knees and simply take him in your mouth and hold him there. He thinks you would look so pretty like that, and would coo sweet praise to you as he runs and pets his fingers through your hair, being so gentle with you.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It honestly depends on how his day went, if he’s in a sour mood you can imagine he will be taking his frustrations out on your body with a ruthless pace. If he is in a good mood, he will happily let you guide him towards whatever kind of pace you want, and would happily take the time to properly worship you if that’s what you wanted. Ultimately he is pretty good about listening to your needs but sometimes he needs to have a rough fuck to get it out of his system before he calms down.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Personally Alan isn’t a big fan of quickies. He will have them, sure, but if given the option he would rather have plenty of time to give you the attention you deserve. If you really need it though, with you clutching onto him and begging and pleading and saying “Please daddyyyy,” well then, how could he say no to that?

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Alan is all about trying new things with you, whether it’s something you suggest or a sick little idea in the back of his mind that he has been DYING to try with you. He loves it even more when you surprise him with something you want to do. He establishes safe words soon after he has sex with you for the first time to help put you at ease with some of his more depraved kinks.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

If he is edging himself, Alan can last quite a while. He has the self restraint to keep himself from coming too quickly, and uses it to make sure you’ve cum more times than you can count. He can cum a few times before needing to call it quits. Just don’t tease him about being an old man not being able to keep up with you or he WILL make sure to prove you wrong.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Alan owns plenty of toys of all shapes and sizes and types. He loves using them with you, as they add an extra element of fun in the bedroom. He especially loves using vibrators on you, sometimes allowing you to use them on him as well.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

THE WORST. He loves teasing and playing with you as foreplay, making you wait until he is home to take care of you. Some days when he is really in the mood to be mean, he will purposefully leave you on edge all day as he smiles watching you squirm all day.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Alan is usually not too loud, but he is talkative when he is in the mood and will grunt filthy things in your ear as he fucks you the entire time. He also isn’t particularly shy about groaning or moaning as he reaches his end, and when he is being particularly rough he will be very vocal right up until he finishes coming.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Alan really has a thing for younger women, which tends to play into his corruption kink. It makes him feel so dirty and perverted thinking those thoughts about a younger woman, but he can’t help it. He just fantasizes over the idea of ruining you for any other man, teaching you all sorts of filthy things you never dreamed of doing. He makes sure to show you just what he can do for you that a man your age could never be able to do. Alan will worship you completely, being so gentle while he teaches you exactly what to do.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Average length, but thicker than average. He has enough to give you that delicious stretch inside of you as he fucks you through your high.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Insanely high. He likes to joke that he is way too horny for a man his age, but really how can he hold himself back when he looks at you? Unless things are busy or he is just mentally too tired, he could fuck you every single day if he wanted to.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He waits to fall asleep until you do. He likes watching the blissful expression on your face as you drift off. He thinks your face is so cute while you’re asleep, all angelic and sweet.

#alan sharpe #slasher oc #yandere oc

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narrowtriangle33-blog · 3 years

Text

Please share this article, it important that you do so. These truths have to be told.

"Bethune’s name appeared in six reports in the House Committee on Un-American Activities and five times in Senate reports on people suspected of communist activity. While she was cleared of any involvement, the message was clear: Confronting racism and white supremacy is un-American."

"This is why white people are my bellwether."

"Whenever I am trying to decide whether or not a particular movement, policy or person benefits Black America, I wait and see what white people think. While that might sound racist, there has never been a movement, policy or person that benefitted Black America who was simultaneously embraced by white America. In this country, a stance against the trauma-inducing brickbat of whiteness is perceived as a stance against America. And anyone who disagrees can feel free to prove me wrong. Name one person who fought for Black liberation who white people agreed with."

"Whenever anyone does anything that includes the word “Black,” it immediately falls under the classification of Marxist and anti-whiteness. White people hate being left out, even though they are acutely aware that there is nothing more valuable in the known universe than a white life. White people will slit a Black baby’s neck for a white woman’s life."

"Let’s just say they will beat a Black baby to a bloody pulp, tie him to an industrial fan with barbed wire and toss his lifeless body off a bridge. Is that better?"

"But I understand why they vilify Black movements with Marxism."

"White people don’t know what Marxism is."

"According to a 1970 Harris Poll, 64 percent of Black Americans had a favorable view of the Panthers, while 92 percent of white Americans had a negative view. It’s probably because a lot of members of the Black Panther were Marxists, which is different from communism. Basically, Marxism is a way to examine history, economics and societies through the lens of class, while communism is actually Marx’s economic and political theory in which...wait. For a second I started to believe that there was some logic to white supremacy."

"White people hated the Panthers because they had guns and pushed for armed self-defense. For some reason, those America-hating negroes believed “the right of the people to keep and bear Arms shall not be infringed.”"

"I have no idea where they got that crazy idea from."

"Black people voting"

"Why white people don’t like it: States’ rights, something something, communism, something something it was a different time."

"When Black people marched on Selma for voting rights, they were called “communists.” The Voting Rights Act of 1965 was called “Un-American.” Of course, the 2020 election was about “socialism” because so many Black people voted."

"Southerners, conservatives and white people, in general, have never pushed for a single law to expand the electorate because they are the only true Americans."

"Critical Race Theory"

"Why white people didn’t like it: Because they don’t know what it is."

"This one is easy."

"The one thing that dumbfounds me about white supremacy is how much white people trust each other. They just trust the explanations for their fellow white people. In all this debate about CRT, I have yet to see one person who opposes CRT who can also explain what CRT is. And many of the legislators who are against funding K-12 teachers who absolutely do not teach CRT are already funding the leaders’ movement, such as Richard Delgado, the professor at state-supported Alabama Law School who wrote a little book called Critical Race Theory: An Introduction. "

"All they know is that it has the word “race” in it, so it must be bad."

"Legislators opposed the Civil Rights Act because it was “Marxist.” The House Committee on Un-American Activities investigated the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee for communism. The FBI did, too."

"In a 1964 New York Times survey, a majority of white people said that the “Negro civil rights movement had gone too far,” and a quarter of those people said their resentment was growing. They were right. Two years later, a 1966 Harris Survey, revealed that 85 percent of white respondents thought civil rights demonstrations “hurts the negro.”"

"Apparently, to white people, fighting racism is worse than racism."

"And if you think I’m kidding about white people not thinking Black people were smart, according to the National Opinion Research Center, it was not until 1963 that 50 percent of white people believed “Negroes” were born with the same intelligence as whites."

"History"

"Why white people don’t like it: Because white people might find out about some of the things white people did, which is racist."

"The fight against what politicians have deemed the Marxist, Un-American 1619 Project is actually a fight against teaching the history of slavery more accurately. And it is not new. White people said the same thing about teaching abolition. The United Daughters of the Confederacy said the same thing about the Civil War. White school districts in the North and South said the same thing about Jim Crow. And Black History Month."

"Plus if white kids learn about America’s racist past, they might start saying: “I’m not going to do that again,” and then, what will happen to white people?"

"Martin Luther King Jr."

"Why white people didn’t like him: He was a communist. He was anti-white. He was a Marxist."

"In 1966, a majority of white Americans had a negative opinion of King. When he died in 1968, 75 percent of Americans disapproved of him. Now they love him..."

"Because he’s dead."

"This is why we must never ignore white people."

"While we should never, ever do what white people collectively want, history has shown us that if something is good for Black people, white people will hate it. And if they vilify something as racist, communist or anti-white, you should take a second look because, nine times out of 10, it might be worth considering. When it comes to freedom and equality, the easiest thing to do is to see what white people have to say...

Then do the opposite."

I copied a lot of his article word for word those are Michael Harriot's words not my own.

The word's of people who commented.

"I was asking one of the few people on the Right side of politics I am still in touch with about why he hates CRT, and he sent me a link to a whole essay. It boiled down to a few leaps in logic:"

"1) the USSR used US race relations as a shield to deflect criticism of their own human rights record (“And in the USA, they hang n-words”)"

"2) therefore, any criticism of race relations was caused by Soviet propaganda (not, you know, by actually HANGING BLACK PEOPLE)"

"3) therefore any discussion of race relations was commie propaganda."

"4) therefore, any movement that calls attention to race is communist."

"It’s very similar to how the Communist League fired the original writer of The Communist Manifesto because he brought up ethnic minorities and racism and replaced him with Marx, outright rejecting any factor that so much as complicated their preconceived model. It also shares many of the issues raised in the “grievance studies” affair, being exegesis to elaborate and propound upon a founding scripture."

"That’s the most idiotic line of reasoning I ever heard. It’s so typical of white people as a group in this country that when someone points out some shit they did that’s fucked up that instead of you know, stopping the fucked up thing they basically say that the entity pointing out their fucked up shit is bad therefore bringing up solutions to the fucked up thing they did is wrong."

"Fuck the trolls, but if anyone is actually confused about the likelihood of any white person to trust any other white person over anyone at all who is even POSSIBLY not white, please refresh your memories regarding the multiple instances in the last several years of a Black person being anywhere near a house or building, then being approached by either a white guard, cop, or other self-important deputy of white fragility."

"In these instances, Black people are often believed to be up to no good even after they show ID proving they live in the building some white person has decided they don’t belong in. No amount of proof will have a fragile white self-deputy believing that even state-issued IDs are a real thing and this Black person lives in their own home."

"But when any white person walks by and says “Oh, this is _____, they live here”, immediately, that’s good enough to let this perceived criminal go into their home."

"Because any white stranger vouched in any sort of way."

"Literal evidence of address means nothing, but the word of ANY white person, with no proof of their authority, no hassle about “Well what are YOU doing here?!?”, just...instant belief of any white skin."

"Also, the main difference between Angela Davis and Assata Shakur is that Ms. Davis beat the system at its own game, the “proper” way. Racism couldn’t even beat her at their heavily-rigged game. Ms. Shakur ALSO beat the system, but because she didn’t get to win at a fully-rigged game, she found her own loophole and got out of this racist hellhole."

"Not that it matters, because they’re both the same to any racist. To me, they’re both brilliant heroes."

"If you asked these mouth breathers what they hate about CRT not only could they not tell you, they would call you “the real racist” for asking. There is no winning with these people because they refuse to see themselves as ANYTHING other than the good guys in any situation. It is fucking tiring to deal with this shit and yet they seem to not understand that we are more fucking tired than they are. With each comment, committee and talking point they pretty much prove that no white person could handle being anything other than well, white."

"To admit anything else would result in a reckoning. It will never happen and America will remain a racist society, with white culture pushing back and getting more extreme as each generation of BIPOC become more aware and angry over white supremacy. America will implode and whatever rises from the ashes will either be that reckoning with real change or a third world country."

Again I quoted these people

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cosmichoneyedblossoms · 4 years

Text

Good At His Job

Pairing: Changbin x Reader

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 2.6 K

Warnings: it’s smut, what do you expect?

“Another flop of an appointment?” Sana’s melodic voice radiated from the corner desk of your shared room as you slammed the door behind you.

“What gave it away?” You groaned, dragging your feet to your bed. She swiveled around to stare at you, and she leaned back into her chair, crossing her legs as if she was an expert in your body language.

“The scuffed steps, the fact your hair is still kept, your clothes aren’t a mess, and well, you’re just giving off this ‘dude gave me terrible dick’ aura.” With a sigh, you flopped onto your bed.

“I swear, I just don’t think I’m meant to have this mind-blowing sex that everyone gets to have. Every guy I sleep with is just… lacking everywhere… whether it be the size or motion of the ocean—they are just terrible…” Sana couldn’t help but giggle at your frustration seeing as she was in your position once before.

“Have I ever told you about the Stimulation Study Group?” Her question had you pulling your head from your blankets to look at her; her eyes were sharp, and her expression seemed timid but also curious.

“Stimulation Study Group?”

“Yeah! There’s this group of eight guys who will either take you on dates and or offer you a special service…” Sana watched your brow arch up like you were wondering what she meant, “The special service being sexual training.”

“Hold on—” You sat up quickly, leaning in close to her, “So you’re telling me these guys will straight up just sleep with you?” Sana nodded her head a little.

“Well, kind of, they teach you how to get pleasure out of every sexual encounter you have.” Setting down her pencil, she replaced it with her phone, and she pulled up the campus study group app and found the group labeled ‘SSG,’ and then flipped the screen towards you, “Chan, Minho, Changbin, and Hyunjin are the ones who actively offer sex.” She flipped through the photos of the guys, naming one after the other, “Han, Felix, and Seungmin are just now opening up for more than dates, and well Minho is still new to the group, so he’s still doing dates.”

“And you’ve been with one of these guys?” You asked, taking her phone from her hand and flipping through the pictures once more.

“I got the honor of getting to “study” with Felix not too long ago, and well, even for a novice, he’s still amazing.” You flicked your eyes up to hers, their darkness showing disbelief, “Hey, all the girls in this house have used them.”

“Even Chaeyoung?” You furrowed your brow, surprised at the sudden news, and Sana nodded her head, “Chaeyoung, Momo, Mina, Jeongyeon, and Nayeon have all used them.”

“You lie.” An audible gasp escaped your lips.

“No lie here. We were all tired of bad sex, so we searched for help.” You let the idea roll around in the back of your mind as you put your attention back to the pictures when one stood out to you.

“I know him.” Flipping the screen towards her, she took in the picture of the guy.

“Changbin?”

“Yeah, he’s in my Intro to Music Study. He’s the most attractive one in the class.”

“Perfect! It’ll be easier for you guys to click!” She grabbed her phone from her hand, and her fingers started to get to work on a message.

“Hold on—”

“Nope! I’m going to get you some good dick, Y/N! Don’t fret!” You slumped back down into your bed, knowing that once she had her heart set on something, then it was almost impossible to get her to change her mind.

[19:00] Changbin: Hey Y/N, Sana gave me your number for me to message you.

[19:02] You: Ah, okay, cool

[19:14] Changbin: Would tonight work for you to come over and study? Sana let me in on your little situation, and I have the house to myself tonight since the guys have other dates they’re on.

You stared at the message on your phone, speechless. It had only been two days since she reached out to him, and he didn’t approach you in class, so why was he eager to help you out now?

“Is it a text from him?” You looked up from your phone to see Sana’s head poking out from the top bunk of her bed.

“Yeah… he wants to meet up tonight…”

“Finally! Took him long enough!” She squealed and practically jumped from her bed to run to her closest, “What kind of look are we going for? Sexy? Slutty? Oh! What about ‘cutie that wants to get plowed’?” She kept tugging at random articles of clothing, but you had yet to decide if you wanted to go through with it.

“Do I really want to go and sleep with some guy who may get me addicted to his dick?” Your question seemed like an idiotic one because she scoffed.

“Yes! It’s so worth it! Tell him you’ll be there around nine!” Sana pulled out multiple clothing options as well as lingerie for your little romp that apparently was going to happen.

[19:30] You: I’ll be there around nine. Send me the address.

As nine approached, you were already standing at the address he had given to you in the outfit that Sana dolled you all up in—a tan sweater, a black jean skirt, paired with some black fishnet tights, and some black heeled boots. Sure it was just going to end up on the floor in a few minutes, but “appeal is everything” or so Sana says.

“This is so stupid… why am I even here…?” You grumbled, and as you started to turn away from the door, it began to open.

“Oh, Y/N, did you just get here?” Changbin’s voice from behind sent shivers through your spine. Turning back to face him, dark eyes looking you up and down made your heart skip a beat as well as conjure an ache between your legs.

“As a matter of fact, I did.” You could feel your cheeks heating up under his hungry gaze; you’d seen him every day for the past four months, so why was his stare making you feel things you’ve never felt before?

“Come on in.” He moved out of the way to let you walk in when your eyes found a younger boy asleep on the living room couch.

“I thought you said you had the house all to yourself tonight…” You hummed as you pulled your boots off.

“Minho ended up finishing up his date early, so he came home and passed out.” Changbin gently put his hand at the small of your back and led you to the dining room and pulled a chair out for you, “Would you like anything to drink?” You glanced down at the chair and then back up at him, confusion clear on your face, “I bet you’re nervous, some conversation I’ll help calm your nerves.” He wasn’t wrong. You were beyond nervous. Getting to sleep with the finest guy in your department was kind of a dream of yours, but there was no way you would ever let anyone know.

“Can I have some water, please?” You licked your lips a bit, and Changbin’s eyes fell to them.

“Of course…” He slipped into the kitchen, and you sat down in the seat he pulled out for you, breathing a sigh of relief that you got a second away from him. A few moments passed before he returned with your glass of water, “Here you are.”

“Thank you.” Taking the glass from him, your fingers grazed over his. His fingers surprised you, not because of their warmth, but you barely touched him, and your body was already aching to feel more of him. Lifting your glass to your lips, you began to take a drink of it while watching him.

“So…” Changbin breathed as he took the seat across from you, “Why did you decide on using the SSG? Or should I ask why did you choose me?” You choked on your water at his blunt question.

“Why?” You wheezed through a cough while trying to catch your breath.

“Yeah, why? There’s eight of us, why me? There has to be a reason.” You didn’t technically pick him, Sana did.

“Well… Sana actually picked you, I just told her you were the most attractive guy in my class…” You turned to face him a bit to catch the once hungry stare turn darker, almost ravenous.

“You think I’m the most attractive?” He husked, starting to stand from his seat.

“I-I do…” You stuttered, watching him approach you.

“Well, let me make sure that this is worth your while.” Changbin’s fingers gripped your chin, tilting it up to him, and pressing his lips to yours. With your body already aching, his kiss was like ecstasy, igniting every single nerve in your body. Slipping his tongue into your mouth, you let out a quiet moan as his tongue caressed yours. You’ve been with plenty of men, but none of them were as skilled with their tongues as Changbin was.

“Changbin…” You whined as he pulled away and disappeared behind you. Wrapping his arms around you, he pulled up your sweater along with your bra, exposing your breasts, “Just as I thought. You do have a very sexy body…” Hot hands massaged your skin, his fingers lingered over your nipples—pinching and rolling them between his rough fingers, “Tell me what you want…” He whispered into your ear. His words had the ache between your thighs turning painful the longer he teased you.

“Touch me, please…” Your wanton whips had his hands dipping in between your thighs and spreading them to grip at your fishnets tights.

“Sorry about these…” He growled while ripping the little fabric there was to rub over your already soaked lace, “I’ve barely even touched you’re this wet?” Moving your panties to the side, he slid two fingers into your dripping pussy, them immediately finding your sweet spot.

“Oh god—” You gasped, the feeling of his fingers caressing the place only you could find was making you drip like a faucet. With every plunge of his fingers into you, the more you became undone.

“Your insides are gripping my fingers so hard, Y/N… you must be really turned on.” Pulling his fingers from your hole, strings of your juices clung to him, “How about I make you feel better?” He hummed, coming around to pick you up and sit you down on the table.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t take this to your—” Your words were silenced as he dropped down to his knees and dipped his tongue into your sopping folds; he wasted no time delving into you, making sure to lap up your leaking juices. You couldn’t help let out raspy moans as your hips bucked against his mouth, begging for more friction.

“You have such an erotic pussy…” He hummed, his deep voice sent vibrations through your body, bringing you closer to your high, “Does it turn you on knowing that Minho could wake up any minute and see your slutty hips riding my tongue?” Hearing his muffled words made you look towards the couch to see Minho’s sleeping body.

“W-wait—” Changbin yanked you closer and slipped his fingers inside you once more, this time they roughly attacked your sweet spot while his lips and tongue sucked on your throbbing clit, “Wait—I’m cumming!” You squealed, unable to hold your voice back any longer. Your body trembled as your high took over you; legs wrapped over his shoulders tightly, fingers gripping fistfuls of his sandy blond hair, your arousal dripping from his face. This was the first time a man ever gave you an orgasm, and the only thing running through your mind at that moment was: you could get addicted to the feeling. Coming down from your high, your eyes found Minho again, and it finally hit you that you practically screamed when you watched him flip over on the couch. Instinctively, you pushed Changbin’s face away from you and attempted to cover yourself when he started laughing.

“Don’t worry. That kid sleeps like the dead when he drinks.” Changbin got up to his feet, and his hands quickly unbuttoned his black jeans, “I don’t know about you, but I’m at my limit…” Tugging his pants down, his cock sprung free of its holdings, “I’ve been dying to be inside you since I saw you…” He whispered, lining himself up with your entrance, “Now you’re mine for the taking.” You expected him to at least let you adjust to his size, but Changbin wasn’t about it; he pinned your legs back and thrusted deep inside you, stretching you out.

“You’re so big…” You whimpered, the knot in your stomach started to tighten as he repeatedly ravaged your insides, “It feels so good!”

“My dick is perfect for your greedy pussy, Y/N… With any little movement, I can have you a mewling mess. Like right here—” Changbin made hard pointed strokes to your sweet spot and watched as you covered your mouth and tossed your head back in pleasure, “I can feel your about to cum from the way you’re gripping my cock.” He was right, your body felt like it was on fire like if he kept going, you would be set aflame, but it felt too fantastic to have him stop.

“Changbin—”

“I know, cum for me.” He rasped, thrusting into your g-spot harder while rapidly rubbing your clit. Your back arched off the table as your second orgasm hit you, this one harder than the last; your juices coated the table under you as well as soaking Changbin’s pants. Your high left your body shaking in pure ecstasy, but he wasn’t entirely done with you, “Bend over the table for me.” Without hesitation, you got down off the table and bent over for him; you were dying for more, practically begging for it as you spread your holes for him. Sliding his cock back in, this time, he reached deeper than the last time.

“God, yes!” You mewled, your mind and body finally giving in to the pleasure he was giving you. Changbin didn’t even move, your hips were already greedily pushing back against him, “Your cock is so good, please fuck me more.”

“Turning into my little whore now, huh?” Gripping your hips, he rammed his cock roughly into you, causing your juices to squirt from your sloppy pussy. With every thrust, the puddle between your legs grew bigger, “From now on, come to me to release all your frustration…”

“Please, always make my pussy feel good, Binnie!” A mischievous smile appeared on Changbin’s lips as he wrapped his hands around your thighs.

“You’re so sexy, Y/N… How about—” Lifting you, he walked over to the living room to stand in front of the couch that Minho was sleeping on, “... we let Minho see how sexy you are?”

“Ah, n-no!” Your walls clamped down on him as you stared at Minho with your pussy gobbling up Changbin’s cock on display.

“Let’s show him how you cum.” He growled and continued to thrust his cock into you; he knew exactly where to attack to have you moaning and drooling mess in seconds.

“I’m gonna cum—” Your voice choked out as you tossed your head back onto his shoulder, “Don’t stop—make me cum, please—” You begging had Changbin hitting his limit, he was aching to cum.

“Cum for me, Y/N… Show Minho how you cum for me…” He rammed his cock into your sweet spot before pulling out to cum. As his cock splurted his warm cum onto your skirt, your pussy squirted juices onto the floor as well as some on Minho’s face. Through a panted breath, Changbin chuckled, “Was this worth it?”

Yes, it most definitely was.

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godsporncollection · 3 years

Text

Saturday Morning Session

(personal commentary in italics) (sorry for how inconsistent i am at this, i’m trying new medication, so my focus comes and goes unpredictably, but i didn’t want this to take weeks)

Russel M Nelson - strengthen your testimony (?)

"I understand better what he meant when he said 'behold, i will hasten my work in this time.'"

Y'all have been strengthening your testimonies and i, and your children, thank you. did that inclusion of "your children" feel off to anyone else?

I can see the work on the temple outside my window and that makes me think about how we need to remove the old debris from our lives. I too think of the temple as 'old debris' that should be removed from my life.

"the gospel is a message of joy" I cannot roll my eyes hard enough

that was short. what was the topic? blab for a five minutes?

Dieter F. Uchdorf - god is Among Us

I had to move lots when I was a kid because there was a war on. i thought about the missionaries who came to the country of their enemies to bring us the gospel.

i was a kid in a war-torn country > missionaries > god has not forgotten us > we will be heirs of god > how could we complain when we have that? > the atonement > mistakes are okay, just gotta keep repenting.

what would jesus teach if he was among us today? the same thing he's always taught. "the savior always teaches timeless truths, to everyone, a message of hope and belonging, a testament that god has not abandoned his children that god is Among Us."

jesus says to love one another and to be full of charity towards all men. i would like to see it.

anyone else feel like these talks are just. empty? like, they're not feeling it either?

if jesus came into your home today, he would see into your heart and i'm gonna waste a couple more minutes by expanding on that. one look into his eyes and we would be forever changed by the realization that god is Among Us.

back to me, i wish i could go back and tell myself to stay on the right track because god is Among Us, so i'm gonna tell you instead. god is Among Us.

"line upon line" *gag*

god is Among Us

Joy D Jones - abuse is wrong unless you use it to teach kids about the gospel

"have you ever wondered why we call 'primary' 'primary'?" as someone who understands how language works, no.

because kids are importanter than everything else

god trusts us to be nice to our kids; that means no abuse, even if we're angry. whoever needed this reminder should be shot.

hey, maybe you can "combat the evils of abuse" by not fucking raising your kids in an abusive cult!

analogy of a kid who fell out of bed because he "didn't get far enough in" = he wasn't indoctrinated enough, with awkward collage of pics of kids for a minute.

eyring said to get 'em while they're young

love all the pics of black people that try to say "see? we don't think black people are inherently evil (anymore)!"

analogy of a soldier in boot camp. drill seargants are mean, but that was necessary because apparantly it's the only way this guy can learn how to hide. also, apparently this guy is "our friend". not my friend, thanks.

"how can we do the same for our children?" don't fucking act like a drill seargent to your kids! ffs

"wouldn't we rather have them sweat in the safe learning environment of the home than bleed on the battlefields of life?" first of all, fuck you. second, dramatic much? third, fuck you, kids shouldn't have to learn about life in a hostile environment. does this woman have kids? are they okay? fucking hell, five kids were raised by a woman with this mentality. what a bitch.

"eternity is the wrong thing to be wrong about." i got news for you. of course, if i ever spoke to this machine, that topic wouldn't be my top priority.

I need a fucking drink.

Jan Eric Newman - teaching the gospel is good, but you can't force a testimony on others

anecdote about a local old woman getting birthday gifts. she taught us some good things when we were growing up, so thanks, sister davis.

another teacher, at college, was a "master teacher." he loved me and the lord. he taught me to learn doctrine on my own and that "changed me forever."

just sayin', if you're taught how to learn on your own, but didn't exercise enough critical thought to gtfo of this cult, maybe the teacher wasn't the best.

it's good to have good teachers.

the ancient nephites and lamanites had good teachers, and "there was no contention among them!"

"how can we teach more like the savior and help others become more deeply converted?" nope, nope. nope.

1st, "learn all you can about the master teacher hismelf." so, we're sticking with the term "master teacher." cool. doesn't sound weird at all.

ask yourself questions about how he taught, then do that.

read "teaching in the savoir's way."

2nd, use bullshit stories. oh, no, it's a story about how somebody is grateful for the pandemic because her adult child read the BoM for the first time during it. she said it had made "literal miracles."

3rd, "remember that conversion must come from within." guess jan and "joy" should have compared notes before speaking.

"children inheret many things, but a testimony is not one of them. we can't give our children a testimony any more than we can make a seed grow; but we can provide a nourishing environment, with good soil, free of thorns that would choke the word."

Gary E. Stevenson - kindness

story about a study where rabbits were fed a high-fat diet, but those under the care of a loving researcher didn't gain as much weight.

only christians can intuitively understand that this means there's a reason to be kind to others.

jesus said love one another.

addressing primary kids - be kind. here's a story about a kid who stopped being a bully because the bullied kid said it hurt.

to the teens - social media makes bullying worse, clearly satan is using social media against your generation. do what you can t make these spaces safer. if you're a bully, "stop it."

to the adults- "we have a primary responsibility to set a tone and be role models of kindness (get wrecked "joy"), inclusion and civility."

from ballard- "i have never heard members of this church to be anything but loving, kind, tolerant and benevolent to our friends and neighbors of other faiths." k, but, like, you know it's not just a difference of religious belief that’s the problem, right?

i'm heartbroken to hear about prejudice against blackasianlatino people or of any other group. i love how that section was really only about race, with a blanket "any other group" thrown in as an afterthought so they can't be accused of being homophobic.

in the winter of 1838, jo smith was in prison and why do you think that happened, gary?

church members were driven from their homes and the residents of a town across the river gave them food and shelter. that generosity saved the lives of many of them.

god is a compassionate care-giver.

Gerrit W. Gong - disjointed anecdotes of human experiences, idk

i miss my dad. he was adventurous, except regarding food.

i saw a guy be mean to a lady selling ice cream. he smashed all of her cones. the image of her trying to salvage the cones haunts me to this day.

story of the good samaritan.

be like christ this easter.

"we recieve inspiration as we counsel together, listening to each person, including each sister and the spirit."

does this guy have a topic?

he’s is just giving a list of random human experiences and parables.

*displays a lack of understanding of instagram.*

he's listing something throughout this, like, he keeps counting, but i have no idea what and his voice is making my adhd medication run away, so i'm not listening to this again.

Henry B. Eyring - temple worthiness

today i'm feeling light and hope, like the first day i went to the salt lake temple

i'm an oblivious fucker who didn't notice my name being pinned on me, so i thought the woman who greeted me was an angel because she knew my name.

thought he could remember being in the temple before, but a voice that was not his own (that's how you know it's true and not something he just told himself) told him he was remembering heaven.

confused "holiness to the lord" with "this is a holy place." i know both phrases use the word 'holy', but like, those contexts mean separate things.

i also had this feeling during my wedding in the logan temple.

i think henry should get checked out, he suffers from frequent hallucinations and it's good to know how your brain works differently from others when in a leadership position.

during my wedding, i had a vision of a house and the officiant said to live in a way that you can walk away easily. a year later, my father in law bought the exact house and my wife and i lived in the guest house for ten years. then i got the call to move somewhere else on assignment from the church and we walked away easily.

scripture from jesus about temples.

if you're unworthy in the temple, you won't be "able to see, by the power of the holy ghost, the spiritual teaching of the savior that we can recieve in the temple."

"when we are worthy to recieve such teaching, there can grow, through our temple experience, hope, joy, and optimism throughout our lives. that hope, joy, and optimism are available only through accepting the ordinances performed in holy temples."

i forgot how simple a baptism is, so i'm gonna tell you how amazed (and a little concerned) i was when my youngest daughter stayed to do baptism for the dead for all of the names on the list that day. maybe i'm just super comfortable in the water, but that doesn't sound hard, actually. i used to almost enjoy doing those.

quotes the primary song 'i love to see the temple.'

remember to be worthy so you can live with your family forever.

#exmo #ex mormon #exchristian #ex christian #excult #cult stuff #exlds #ex lds #former mormon #apostake #ex religious #agnostic #mine #gc april 2021 #gc summary

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busterkeatonfanfic · 3 years

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Chapter 23

Contrary to what he’d said while tired and sex-drunk, Buster did care about being seen with Nelly. After he’d driven her back to her apartment Monday morning and she’d hurried in to drop off her bags, then hurried back to the car, he dropped her off a few blocks from the United Artists lot. He hazarded a quick kiss on the lips, but that was it. He knew as well as anyone that to keep a mistress you had to be quiet about it, at least if your wife was as concerned about preserving the illusion of a happy marriage as Natalie was. It was a price he was willing to pay.

Now alone, he drove the half-hour to Culver City, reflecting on the weekend. It felt nice to be wild for a girl again, made him forget his troubles until the M-G-M sign loomed up ahead. His gut sank. Before he signed the contract, he’d asked for his team to be put on the payroll. The studio had granted his wish, but what he hadn’t bargained on was becoming the proud new recipient of every Tom, Dick, and Harry who wanted to make their mark in moving pictures gumming up his simple story with the goddamndest stuff: jewel heists, damsels in distress, a full military band. The days of Steamboat Bill seemed far, far away, and he longed for his old scenario department. Lately the mornings had consisted of sitting around a table with a baker’s dozen of men, including Thalberg, passing around a script that grew heavier and heavier with harebrained ideas with each passing day, like a ship sinking under the weight of too much cargo.

The image of that ship put him in mind of a gag. By the time he was inside and put in his standing order of coffee and donuts with a secretary, the gag had taken shape.

Bruckman was in the room with the big table. Buster could see that he was trying to pretend that things were as normal as they’d ever been, but he looked like he felt just as much like a fish out of water as Buster did. Some of the paid writers helloed Buster and asked him if he’d had a nice weekend.

“Sure. Did some quail-hunting in the Valley.” He smiled to himself, remembering a naked Nelly clinging to his neck in the lake.

Two young pretty girls came into the room with the coffee and donuts. Munching a donut, Buster wasted no time in introducing his idea to Bruckman.

“Suppose I start filming with my old camera to impress my girl, but I do it all wrong. Get into the craziest scrapes. I could be near a ship as it’s getting ready to be launched, thinking I’m about to get the shot of a lifetime, only the ship launches me with it,” he said.

“And you darn near topple off of it and lose your camera,” said Bruckman.

“Exactly,” Buster said.

“I’ve just written a part where your character bumps into a dame whose son has just been kidnapped,” one of the writers, a medium-height fellow with a brown mustache, chimed in. “She’s willing to give you all the tea in China if you just help her find her Billy. You’re willing to do it. It’s your chance for a ticker-tape parade if you find him. You know, to impress your girl.”

“Kidnapped?” Buster said, not sure he’d heard right.

“Sure. It fits perfectly.”

By now, Thalberg had entered the room and seated himself at the table. He took a donut and smiled in a benevolent way that spelled trouble.

“No, no. It’s the mob Buster comes up against. They think he’s a spy and take him for a hostage, but he’s more useful as a stooge, see?”

Buster found himself wishing he’d poured a little whiskey into his coffee when no one was looking. It was bad enough to have to put everything down on a script for the first time in his career in pictures and even worse to entertain this kind of dreck. He looked over to Bruckman, but he just gave him a helpless look. At this rate, they’d never get around to filming.

Filming. His mind crowded with everything he was obliged to do in the next six weeks, premieres (including Steamboat’s), parties, benefits, and not least of all traveling to New York City to begin filming. He thought sinkingly of Nelly.

The worries continued on the drive back home late that afternoon. He worried his nails with his teeth as he thought about juggling it all. At the Villa, he parked in the drive and bustled his way through the magnificent mahogany doors with his suitcases. Before departing from the studio, he’d checked the car for any trace of Nelly, a stray stocking, a dropped bracket, but there was nothing to give him away. As he stepped into the foyer, he was struck with an unfamiliarity that sometimes came over him. This big, clean, airy house, so cold and charmless—was it really his? He’d obsessed over it endlessly when it was being constructed, sparing no detail, never sure of what possessed him beyond the thrill that he could and a desire to impress. Impress his fellow stars? He thought, setting his suitcases down and running a hand across the back of his neck. No.

To impress Natalie.

He called for her. “Hello?” There was no answer and he tried again. “Hello?”

“Hello?” But it was only Eleanor, coming around the corner looking worried. “Mr. K—Buster, how are you? Shall I take your suitcases?” It had taken a while, but he’d finally gotten her to stop calling him Mr. Keaton.

“No, I’ll take care of that. Have you seen Natalie? Is she around?”

“She’s out I’m afraid,” Eleanor said, with an apologetic smile.

He could hear the kids outside somewhere, giggling and screaming. “Alright. If you see her, just tell her I’m home.”

He took his suitcases up to his room. It was cool and dark, and managed to smell both stale and clean at the same time. The bed was made, all the corners of the sheets tightly tucked. He drew his curtains and opened the balcony doors.

“Hey, you hooligans!” he cried down to Bobby and Jimmy, who were running around on the lawn under Connie’s watchful eye.

“Daddy!” they said, racing to the balcony.

He went down to them and allowed them to wrestle him to the ground where they swarmed on top of him, then demanded to be swung around by the arms in the dangerous way that Nate disapproved of. A little voice in the back of his head lectured him about his failures as a father and husband, but he let the feeling of his sons’ hands in his smother it. Nelly was distracted for her entire shift Monday, remembering moments from the weekend. The assistant prop manager had to remind her to get her head out of the clouds when she fetched the wrong dinner service twice in a row. She could scarcely wait to get home, where the phone would surely ring and Buster would be on the other line asking her how her day had been. He had promised to be in touch when he’d dropped her off a block before the studio. That night, however, she went to bed disappointed. A worming doubt began to spoil her recollections of their time at the cabin.

The phone did ring after work the next day, but it wasn’t Buster.

“Nelly, is that you?” her mother said on the other end. Barely waiting for an assurance, she cried, “Ruthie had the baby! It’s a girl and they haven’t named her yet, but they think Violet or Virginia, which do you like better? Virginia? I like Virginia myself. She’s seven pounds even. We think she might have brown hair instead of blonde; it’s rather dark if you ask me, but of course there’s not much of it.”

“Well that’s wonderful,” said Nelly, wondering why her heart wasn’t in the congratulations. “How’s she doing? How’s Ruthie?” She’d never been able to fathom the birth process, the pushing and tearing and bleeding and all the rest. With what mothers had to go through, it was a miracle anyone ever had a second child, let alone a third like Ruthie.

“Oh, she’s tired but she’s an old hand by now. It wasn’t an hour later she wanted some chicken broth and now she’s bullied Gerald into letting her have some ice cream. Lord knows where he found it this time of year but nothing’s too good for her where he’s concerned.”

“And June and Eddie?”

“Eddie wanted a brother and declares he won’t see the poor soul, but you can imagine June is over the moon. She’s brought up her dollies’ clothes for her. Thank goodness they’re too small or we’d be in for quite a fight.”

As Nelly stood in the hall with the receiver to her ear, her mother chattered on about what time Ruthie’s labor started, how it had progressed, and what the doctor had done when he’d gotten there. She plotted with some guilt about how to cut the conversation short; she was worried she’d miss Buster if he called.

“And you, how are you, dear?” her mother said, as if sensing Nelly’s intentions.

“Oh, I’m okay,” she said, a bit hastily.

“How are you getting on with the moving pictures?”

Nelly explained briefly about her role in Tempest, which she’d mentioned in her last letter home.

“What about that Keaton film? When will that come out? Your father says he intends to take the whole family to see it.”

“Buster—Mr. Keaton’s cutting it right now. April, I suspect.”

Not noticing her daughter’s slip, her mother pressed on. “When can we expect you back home?”

“I’m awful busy. Autumn?”

That was not good enough for Lena. “What’s wrong with summer? Or late spring? We miss you terribly and you know Harold Jenkins is wondering how you’ve been. I’ve given him your address so he can write. Have you gotten any letters yet?”

Nelly gritted her teeth unconsciously at the mention of Halitosis Harold. “Not yet. But Mother, I really have to be going.” She racked her brain for an excuse. “I’m having dinner tonight with a fellow I work with.” It was the wrong thing to say, because Lena became gleeful and effusive. “Oh Nelly, you didn’t mention you were seeing someone. What’s his name? Is he handsome?”

Nelly flushed. “It’s Joseph,” she said, thinking of Buster’s given name. “He’s very handsome, but he’ll be here any minute. I really must go.”

“I’ll call tomorrow, perhaps. I want you to tell me all about your new beau and I presume the baby will have a name by then.”

“That’s fine, Mother. I love you. I’ve got to go.” With a few more I-love-yous and talk-to-you-soons, Nelly was able to hang up the phone. The conversation had left her feeling unsettled and wrung-out. She supposed she should pick up a congratulations card for Ruthie on her lunch break tomorrow. Waiting for Buster to call, she was too nervous to eat anything more than an apple. She tried to read another chapter of Mistress Nell Gwyn, but couldn’t concentrate. Her mind was lying under the stars with Buster as he strummed his ukulele.

It was a severe blow when another night passed with no word from him. The doubts were full-blown now. Her biggest worry wasn’t that he was preoccupied with his wife or even another girl, but that their time together hadn’t meant what she thought it had and that she had handed him her heart when she should have kept it more carefully guarded, only giving it to him when they had been going together longer and he had proven his worth.

She went to work on Wednesday morning feeling blue despite the shining sun. The sensible part of her tried to push her out of her gloominess, reminding her that it had only been forty-eight hours and Buster was liable to be busy with his work, but nevertheless she moped around the prop department, not even caring to put on the radio for a diversion. On her lunch break she walked to a corner shop, having no appetite anyway, and chose a simple card to congratulate her sister. It had a Kewpie on the front clutching a telephone and read: I heard your home is honored / By a tiny little guest / I am rejoicing with you / That you are so greatly blest. As she walked back to the studio, she tried to get her head around the fact that she was an aunt three times over now.

She returned to the prop warehouse around half past noon. Immediately she noticed a large vase sitting on the desk where she did the books. It was heaped with a snowy mountain of gardenias, jasmine, and myrtle. She could smell the flowers from a yard away. Propped against the vase was a record in a paper sleeve, which she examined. There was a cartoon of Paul Whiteman’s fat, mustachioed face on the front of the record and on each side a different song, “ ‘Taint So, Honey, ‘Taint So” and “That’s My Weakness Now.” A small card with her name on it was tucked into the flowers. She looked around the room for a sign of who might have delivered it, but no one was in sight. Her heart beating faster, she opened the card.

She’s got eyes of blue, I never cared for eyes of blue but she’s got eyes of blue and that’s my weakness now.

P.S. See you tomorrow around 6?

“Got a beau now, huh?” said Gracie, one of the other girls who helped out in the department, walking into the room. Bold as brass, she leaned over Nelly’s shoulder to read the card. “Who’s BK?”

“Buddy King,” Nelly said, without a moment’s hesitation, blushing. “Did you see who delivered it?”

“I did,” said Gracie, rolling her eyes. “Florist dropped it off up front and I was the lucky gal told to bring it on back. Thought it was for me at first. ‘Course that would have been a shock. Bennie don’t do flowers or nothing like that. You’re lucky.”

“I am,” said Nelly, burying her face in the flowers. A waft of spring filled her sense and along with it a feeling that was very close to intoxication.

She was the center of attention during her walk to the tram and then her tram ride home, holding as she was such a huge arrangement of flowers. The commonest remark from strangers was, “Someone must care for you very much.”

And her face reddening, she would respond, “I guess he does.”

Note: Remember, Buster Keaton really did have a maid named Eleanor at the Villa. Confusing, but she wasn’t his Eleanor.

Also, after listening to this song since November, I finally have an excuse to share it with you! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WAfVQpzQB3g

#Buster Keaton #fan fiction #RPF #Actor RPF #silent film #Golden Age Hollywood

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tosikoarts · 4 years

Text

SFW Alphabet | Kikuta

Ogata is next. You can check tosikowrites tag for more. Warning: there’s a lot under the cut.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Kikuta is so serious that it comes off extremely funny. He hasn’t been in a stable relationship for quite a while so getting back in the game gives him headache and upset stomach. For a person that pompous, with a damn jacket made of collected guns, he acts awkwardly sweet and romantic, and he is also a little afraid that it will push his potential partner away. In short, Kikuta is a mess.

Opposite to his own state, Kikuta wants to bring peace to his loved one’s life. He tries to pull off image of ideal man, one that will take off his jacket and cover a puddle with it just for his partner to stay clean. Seeing encouragement makes him more confident, less nervous, and therefore more refined. You’ll be drowning in attention, gifts, praise. Later, Kikuta gets comfortable with his own clumsiness and awkwardness and just laughs it away.

Relaxing together is a must. Impromptu rest in hot springs, not in those controlled by establishments, but in wild ones, is a great example. Reading aloud? Yep. Chilling under the blankets? Yep. Massages and back rubs? Yep. Kikuta manages to make everything wholesome. Thankfully, war couldn’t kill his kindliness.

He voluntarily takes on the role of a guardian angel to protect his loved one from world’s harshness. Kikuta wouldn’t want them to see what he has seen - pain, cruelty, disease - so he made it his goal to improve himself and the world around.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

The highest possibility of becoming Kikuta’s friend is either being soldier of 7th division or being nurse that patched him up few times. He is rarely seen out of his missions so chances to get acquainted with him randomly on a street are low.

Kikuta is the friend that bails you out of problems, no matter how serious they are. In a street fight, he will kick any thug’s ass and make them beg for mercy. If you lose the bid while gambling, he will offer his own money and give you a chance to win some back. Overall, you can always rely on him.

Get ready for philosophical conversations over the glass of whiskey. He likes to talk on a variety of topics, especially abstract ones, like life and death, moment and eternity, love and hate. Most of the reasoning comes down to Kikuta’s military experience but can you blame him for it? Many allegories with weapons: “time flies like a bullet”, “life is just being at gunpoint without realizing it”, etc.

Most likely, he will be looking for a person whom he can serve as a father figure. Kikuta needs someone to look after thou he will rather die than admit it.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Kikuta has to be in specific mood to initiate cuddles and receive them. If he is busy, he will give his partner a faint smile and ask them to wait a little. Surprise, he doesn’t like spooning since it deprives him of the possibility of seeing their adorable face. Half-spoon sounds good and gives more opportunities like kissing his loved one in the top of their head or ruffling their hair. Honeymoon hug is the all time favorite that he likes to initiate right before falling asleep.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Mediocre in both cooking and cleaning, but, boy, does he want this domestic life? Absolutely. Kikuta dreams about getting away from military, finding a new, maybe, not that exciting, stable job, and settle down with his favorite person and few pups. Hardly anyone knows about it, but thought about a small yard where one can sit and watch the slowly falling leaves in autumn or play in a first snow with his own child in winter makes him so soft. Waking up in the comfort of own bedroom, cooking dinner for the whole family, wandering around his own house… Kikuta can’t wait for it.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Comprehensive information about the break-up will be presented at its best in oral or written form. Kikuta addresses everything they are interested in, from reason to the wish to stay friends since his care for their feelings is infinite and he wouldn’t want to leave them without proper closure. After parting ways, Kikuta gives them space to recollect themself, let off the steam, and recover but he plans to come back in their life as a good friend (if they are okay with that, of course).

Kikuta is one of the people that got your back even after bad break-up. You could throw a tantrum, tell how much you hate his guts, and still he will check up on you, protect your name behind the back, and treat you with the same respect as always.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Typical traditional looks on marriage, would want to get married after 1-2 years of relationship. After the appearance of attachment, Kikuta can’t imagine himself with anyone else even if there is a more suitable partner right under his nose. His trust in them is immeasurable: their worst flaws do not don't bother him that much, and when they do, Kikuta tries to gently persuade his loved one into more appropriate behavior. Their past doesn’t matter either unless it is associated with straight-out high treason. Like he doesn’t justify anything but doesn’t seem to emphasize attention on the past wrongs. He is one of the most committed man around, really.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

You have to have Kikuta’s heart set on you for him to show the gentle side. He is polite, it's true, he knows how to court person, but he must force himself to put tenderness in action. Good news: it works like a physical exercise. The more often you do this, the easier it gets. Over time, Kikuta feels comfortable enough to call them pet names like angel or dearest, even in public, without worrying to appear vulnerable.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Not the biggest fan of the hugs, but likes to put one arm around loved one’s shoulder. There is no particular reason, Kikuta is just too awkward when someone hugs him. Only his fingertips land on their back or waist, never the whole palm, and he tries to keep some space between them too. The exception to the rule is first meeting after long time apart when Kikuta wants to press them into himself, hold them as close as possible, and live this moment to the fullest.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Hard to say. If Kikuta sees frivolous attitude on their part, if he feels that he is just another pit stop on the road of their love victories, he will keep confession for someone else. Also, Kikuta either chooses the best romantic moment to confess or does it in the most awkward inappropriate time possible, no in between. After this, he is still hesitant to throw sweet words to the left and to the right but he eventually thaws and turns in the softest man, muttering sweet nonsense in his loved one’s ear.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Kikuta can be characterized as selectively jealous with a high threshold of tolerance. He has few people he wouldn’t want see his loved one around and he doesn’t care about everyone else, seeing them as unworthy opponents. One of the chosen people is Usami. Despite belonging to the same division, Kikuta doesn't trust him one iota. Superior private irradiates chaotic energy and aggression that easily can transform into harassment just to annoy Kikuta and bug him. Another one would be Tsurumi, known for the persistent love conquest and violent ways of achieving his goals. The last one would be Tsukishima, simply because he looks like a competitive man in his silent seriousness and devotion.

Poorly tolerates his loved one acting flirtatious, especially with three people listed above. His main coping mechanism is distancing which allows Kikuta to think about the situation and make sure he isn’t overreacting. After that, he decides to discuss the problem since he does want to make this relationship work.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Sensual kisser. He starts out as a man who knows what he is doing, skillfully and gently, and grows pretty demanding over the time. Kikuta likes to kiss in a secluded environment where there is no need to worry about anything other than the person in front of him, completely surrendering to growing passion. Yep, lip biting, tongue sucking, everything at the right time and in the right place. Lip kisses are his favorite because Kikuta knows nobody does it better, okay, but he is down for anything else too. He likes to kiss his loved one on the neck as well as plant kisses on both of their hands. And where he likes to be kissed? Lips and, who would expect, clavicles, and chest.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Seeing little kid automatically makes Kikuta nervous since, despite the efforts made, he has difficulties in communicating with them. The only fear Kikuta has is not death, nor prison, it’s crying baby that won’t fall silent after few coos and short cuddle. After several unsuccessful interactions with kids, he wondered if he could become a good father in the future and self-given answer was depressing. If his loved one wants to have children with him in the future, they have to rake the mountain of his doubts.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Chances are you won’t catch Kikuta in the morning because of important business he has to run through the work week. Maybe, you will hear the sound of a slamming door or receding footsteps but nothing more. On the weekends, this man always wakes up earlier than his partner, and almost immediately gets out of bed. Half of the times there will be an easy breakfast waiting for you on the table, and the other half you’ll find Kikuta industriously doing varied housework Cuddles (or something more intimate) are rare, but Kikuta is more than willing to make up for it during the day.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Balances time at home and nights out well. Small dinner parties play great role in Kikuta’s life, he loves to invite guests to come over for a cup of tea and small talk or for whole evening of playing hanafuda. Kikuta isn’t the best host but with the help of supportive partner he will be more confident and better one. Spending time alone with the loved one, he likes to talk about the future and about anything at all, play games, or simply cuddle. If we speak about nights put, Kikuta is a big fan of Japanese theater, especially Western-derived shingeki that gained popularity in 1900s, and he insists going there at least once a month.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

First, he needs to get accustomed to the person, to observe their actions towards others so he can build an approximate image of them in the head. After the probationary period, Kikuta begins to gradually open up: his personality is revealed in short conversations over a cup of tea, in talk by the flickering fire, in single phrases like greetings or goodbyes. He often brings up old memories but needs a slight push to go deeper than nostalgic sighs. Never ever has word outburst so you’ll never hear information not meant for your ears.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Scarily cold-blooded when angry, but you have to push to piss Kikuta off, put some effort into it. He is used to deal with all kinds of people. Therefore, there’s already dozen of prepared lines of conduct that can be put to work when somebody is deliberately trying to mess with him. When angered, Kikuta’s first reaction is to shut the person up with one sentence if not a single word. Usually, it works. Sucks that it doesn’t when it comes to broken plate or spilled hellishly hot tea.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Here is the deal: good memorization doesn’t guarantee correct interpretation. Just like the case about the relationship between Ogata and Yuusaku, Kikuta may confuse something and come to the wrong conclusions, so often he chooses too subtly ask a leading question about thing that interests him. He is quite attentive and catches slightest changes in their behavior, listens carefully to the words they speak, but Kikuta can make a fool of himself once in a while. Like he forgot that they have a peach allergy (and he bought like 2 kilos) or they are scarred of big dogs (and he thought they would want to pet that sharp-toothed Kai Ken).

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

His favorite moment would be either proposal or moving in together. Both events mark a new stage in the relationship and keep him on the tiptoes. The day before Kikuta loses his composure: everything falls out of his hands, he cannot eat, cannot drink, cannot sleep because electrifying thoughts don't let him concentrate at all. The limbs seem foreign to him and Kikuta reaches new peak of awkwardness, tripping over his own legs. When the time comes, he is calm again. With the last bit of strength, he puts on a confident face and does his thing. The selected ring fits finger just right as well as his lips land exactly on theirs. After all Kikuta is absolutely sure of his choice and would not want to spend life with someone other than his chosen loved one.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

The closer the person gets, the more worried Kikuta becomes. You never know who is friend and who is enemy in the ongoing treasure hunt, who can stab you in the back because of newly devised action plan. To calm the soul, Kikuta may teach them self-defense both barehanded and with the use of firearms. Also, he is always straightforward about people to be careful with and people who can be trusted. For example, he will do his best to hide his loved one’s existence from 1st Lieutenant Tsurumi even if it means Kikuta has to stage their death.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Kikuta is your dream man when it comes to dates, he keeps things classy in the best sense of this word. Outside the military profession, Kikuta has the ability to appeal to the more refined side of himself and share his views with other. He is the one to take his loved one to historical museum or secluded beach at sunset, the one to look for a restaurant that follows Japanese cooking traditions that have been passed down from generation to generation. The only thing that can make him late is the doubts while choosing the best bouquet. On the anniversaries, there’s no tangible difference since he is used to spoil them with attention pretty much every day. Performs home tasks diligently as well.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Kikuta can be stubborn as donkey, godlessly, unapologetically stubborn. On some occasions he agrees with what another person is saying but still does it his own way, without any explanation, just because he thinks his option is better. It is more common in in the professional field but may pop up in domesticity too.

Speaking of work, Kikuta tends to over-work himself when case includes the thing that really interests him. Digging in paperwork brings him a feel of being needed and sense of stability, both of which are not always present in relationships with people. A person can drastically change his mind and words, stab you in the back, leave… but work? Work could never.

Kikuta can be a bore that wants to stay in one place, talk with the same people, speak out the same ideas. Such company will seem dull to over-active, expressive, and extraverted people.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Oooh, you can’t tell it from his face, but Kikuta takes good care of himself. Not a metrosexual, but a type that wants to be presentable at any time. His style is consists of neutral dark colors, smooth lines, as the opposite of his sharp facial features, and even his casual stubble is thought-out accessory. Probably carries his favorite comb in inner pocket to keep his hair smooth.

He has a collection of neckties for all occasions as well as he knows how to tie them in different, often whimsical ways. Kikuta would really like to pass on his knowledge to the son since in his imagination this is excellent example of cool father-son interaction.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Impeccable self-control helps to get though the loss partially. Right after the break Kikuta excuses himself and leaves. He needs fresh air and, maybe, cigarette. Or a drink. Or start his evening routine hours earlier than usual. Crushing awareness comes day later, when he cannot habitually hug his loved one or get an unexpected kiss on a cheek. Heartsore grows harder and goes away for weeks before Kikuta gathers strength to let them go. Restrains himself from relationship for year or two and secretly hopes they will come back.

If they were killed, Kikuta does not pursue the idea of revenge at any cost. He bears the loss steadfastly, self-reflects through long conversations with Ariko, and plunges in overtime work. If Kikuta gets a chance to cross roads with a killer, he will strangle him with them with bare hands, looking straight into the eyes, and watching their life slips away.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Kikuta is a dog person that has never in his life owned a dog. When a stray dog runs up to him on the street, Kikuta always scratches it behind the ear, and asks “who is the best boy”. While in army, he took care of fluffy mongrel that was sneaking around the military base until First Lieutenant Tsurumi ordered to get rid of it. Kikuta still has a dream to adopt few dogs with his loved one so they both can take care of them (and the puppies).

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Eccentric personas. The man is already working with Usami, he is already under tremendous pressure, okay? His psyche can tolerate one freak but no more. Eccentric persona does not mean a common person who has one or a couple of distinctive features. We all have specific oddities. No, we are talking about a walking circus, loud, bright, and defiant. Kikuta tries to avoid this type of people at all cost.

Outrageous rudeness makes him tic too. Ill-timed swearing, terrible table manners, inability to behave in society. Small annoying details add up to one big picture that Kikuta physically cannot ignore. He'll definitely try to change that in person.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

Kikuta has an evening ritual he performs every day before going to bed. It starts with attentively checking if all the doors are closed, then he puts out the lights everywhere except bedroom and bathroom. While washing his face Kikuta makes plans for tomorrow. He revises them while choosing clean outfit for the next day and putting them next to his bed so in the morning he could instantly jump into his shoes, pull on pants, shirt, and run on important government affairs. Kikuta is mysteriously silent whole time. Attempts to break the silence with small talk result in short dry answers. This routine never changes, even if someone requires an urgent meeting, since repeated actions bring at least some stability to his life.

Calm sleeper until he has to share a bed with another person. Kikuta’s peaceful sleep turns into terrible insomnia, bags under his eyes start to resemble Tsukishima’s, and he feels just awful trying to explain another person that it is not their fault at all. Intensive training, special meditation, counting sheep do not work so he quietly lies on the back and listen’s to another person’s breath.

#golden kamuy #kikuta #golden kamuy headcanon #golden kamuy imagine #tosikowrites

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