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surgepricing · 23 days

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RWBY Final Thoughts: Legacy

Very rarely would I ever consider a fandom on its own worth its own section of a Final Thoughts. ... [Basically,] they behave like a cult.

This is a repost of a post I made February 1st, 2024 on another site. At the time, it was the final post of a deep-dive recap of RWBY and the history of the show, its fandom, and its direction under Rooster Teeth.

I felt this out with some of my peers and the feedback I got in relation to posting in on Tumblr was that, well, why not? It was my main haunt to begin with, and I may as well, since Rooster Teeth is closing its doors. I'm posting this mainly as a shot in the dark just to see how it gets received. Only minor edits have been made; I'm sure there's some stuff in here that would make people mad, but that applies to pretty much anything someone could say about RWBY. Click the read more to get a glance at how my time with RWBY ultimately wrapped up.

Nine years ago today, Monty Oum died of an allergic reaction. Today is a day of mourning for fans of his work, including RWBY. There’s no sense in waiting. Let’s finish this and heal.

The Showrunners

Miles and Kerry often received the brunt of the attention when it came to RWBY. As the writers of the show, they bore responsibility for the largest chunk of why it eventually went into the shitter, and fan anger against them was almost certainly not helped by the damn near idolization heaped on them by fervent stans. They are, undoubtedly, the focal point of RWBY fans’ parasocial relationship with the show.

Of course, despite sharing about the same credits space as his partner in crime, Kerry tended to fly under the radar a lot, with it being Miles who received the brunt of the fandom’s fury with each successive volume. It’s not hard to see why; the character Miles voices has been consistently over-exposed and is in many ways an obvious creator’s pet, with denials as to this fact falling on deaf ears as Jaune’s screentime continued to balloon past its merits, whereas the character Kerry voices could just about wrangle an average of ten seconds of screentime every three years. Certainly Miles has been in trouble with fans more often than Kerry for the shit he’s said and done. The Ruby body pillow and the Tifa Lockhart ‘prostitute’ comments come to mind. Oh, and the slurs, that one too.

But perhaps the reason Miles gets so much more flak than Kerry is that Miles just...acts like an asshole a lot of the time. Even aside from above examples, Miles’ flaws come out in his writing: he’s petty, holds grudges, can’t take criticism, and just overall has way more power over the story than someone of his caliber should. He’s very poor at disguising his real feelings and often lets them bleed through, and when he actually decides to voice them on purpose, things get ugly—refer to that Cameo about Ironwood.

But as tempting as it is to treat Miles as an out-of-control cockwaffle on the rampage and Kerry as his sympathetic ineffectual shadow, the reality is that they’re co-writers, have been for ten years, and anything Miles gets away with doing is as much Kerry’s fault as his. If the Gray Haddock situation has taught us anything, it’s that more people tend to harbor blame than the one individual that makes an easy scapegoat.

Since aside from aforementioned n-word business, Miles and Kerry are almost never connected to moral outrage, this makes it easy for the stans to uphold them, since all they really have to defend them from is accusations that they didn’t honor Monty’s “vision” for the series. This is only easy because the stans are fucking insane, but that’s for later on down the page.

“Vision” is in quotes because that’s how fans treat it, we all know they don’t really care. Miles and Kerry’s vision matters, and we know that much because of Calixyn’s interview where she all but begged to be told that RWBY Volume 5 was as bad as it was because the “good bois” had control of the show ripped from them. Nope, turns out all that racism, homophobia, and plain shitty writing is all on them. But at least they’re nice!

(Miles was 26 when he said the n-word. I’m 26 now when writing this. I think it’s pretty fair to call him an asshole.)

But the truth is that it’s objectively stupid to think that the direction of RWBY hasn’t changed since Monty’s passing, it’s impossible for it not to have. There are more writers on board than before, and it’s been a long time since he was alive to contribute his thoughts. The real question is whether they at least tried, and I don’t think they did.

I mean, Shane Newville never names Miles and Kerry in his letter, but he does state several times that the choices made for the show were not only not what Monty wanted, but “straight up just shitting all over what Monty made”. I find it very difficult to believe that that insinuation, and all of the people caught up in the net it casts, wouldn’t include those two. And like it or not, but the person who is able to compile tons of clips and interviews over the years as some sort of seeming immutable proof that “CRWBY” are good-hearted people determined to preserve Monty’s vision, isn’t really looking at any more evidence than the person who’s come to the conclusion, based on what they’ve seen, that that the opposite is true. And they’re certainly looking at less evidence than the people who actually did work there around Monty, Miles, and Kerry. The facts sometimes boil down to ‘if it walks like a duck, talks like a duck, and is implicated in the walls of text like a duck, it’s probably a duck’, guys.

Even in the best case scenario in which the work of Monty Oum turns out to have been treated with dignity and respect (and was just really shittily written from the beginning), the fact remains that Miles and Kerry did not put a quality product into the world. I will be very surprised if either of them manages to get a lead writing position ever again, because once the popularity of RWBY fades, so too will the goodwill they’ve somehow amassed among its fans. RWBY, much like Twilight, is inevitably going to taint the people who were in charge of writing it.

But Miles and Kerry are just two dudes. What exactly is going to happen to those fervent fans who hung on their every word and insisted they were the embodiment of everything pure and innocent? What, exactly, is going to happen to the RWBY fandom that once seemed to be unavoidably populous on the internet?

F, N, D, M

We already went over “constructive criticism” and “worldbuilding”, so let’s add another eternally-misused word to our roster. You know, something I’ve occasionally thought about in terms of online spaces is that no one knows what a “comfort show” is. It’s one of those terms that became too popular almost as soon as it was introduced, to the point that it became meaningless, much like “hyperfixation” and “anxiety”. I see people refer to RWBY as their comfort show and I’m just like...how? A comfort show is supposed to be the show that always puts you in a good headspace, a show you rest easy with because you’ve always connected with it because the love was always there. A comfort show is a show that you watch in your down moments to feel better, not a show you think is just the greatest thing ever, the bees’ knees if you will.

A comfort show is not a show you force yourself to like, it is not a show you defend at all costs, and it is not a show you only still cling to because enjoying it once coincided with a time when you felt popular and among friends. Which, increasingly, seems to have been the case for RWBY fans.

RWBY’s Fandom

Very rarely would I ever consider a fandom on its own worth its own section of a Final Thoughts. But I’m doing it now because the RWBY fandom, though now it’s a shadow of its former self, is still a sizable chunk of people and took a lot longer to die than most other fandoms.

The RWBY fandom itself was an especially big and very online fandom, and the show produced an abnormally large amount of big name fans who continued to use their own influence to push its success and keep its momentum going. As I’ve said before, the RWBY fandom is something that Rooster Teeth were able to extract an excessive amount of praise out of for minimal effort; it simply seems to be in RWBY fans’ nature to speculate and theorize and over-analyze and fill in blanks, and to perceive good writing and animation where there is none. But you know how fandom operates—the bigger its size, the more infamous it becomes.

Long since famed for being especially toxic, those who are in the know consider RWBY fans a different breed, really. They create and move narratives at high speed and act quickly to correct any perceived dissent in the ranks, casting out anyone that feels disillusionment with the product and insisting everything is peachy even as their world crumbles around them. To RWBY fans, the “CRWBY” are always separate from the “problematic” aspects of Rooster Teeth (which is basically the whole company) and it doesn’t matter how many of its flaws get highlighted; RWBY and the people that make it are always great, innocent of any harm done and fantastic, and anyone that dislikes them is a villain—even if those people were at one point part of the “CRWBY” themselves. Loyalty is everything. In other words, they behave like a cult.Those acronyms themselves have always bothered me, and I’ve grown a strong distaste for them. Originally they were just a quirk of the show; a format for team names that spawned the name of the show and eventually stopped being relevant altogether. But RWBY fans are simply unable to not use them. It’s not “the fandom” it’s “the FNDM”. They’re not “the RWBY team” or “the RWBY crew”, they’re “CRWBY”. Even people that the fans are actively trying to shame, shun, and harass don’t get to simply be people—they’re “RWDE” and, when that became an actual community of sorts unto itself, was switched to “HTDM”, short for “hatedom”. They remind me distinctly of code words that get formed and passed around in cult movements, identifying terms that quickly provide boxes to put people in and make it easier to sort loyals from disloyals. “Hatedom” itself is another one of those terms that spread and got so prolific it really doesn’t carry any meaning anymore. Real hatedoms are surprisingly rare, guys. Every fandom that becomes big enough for its respective product to become criticized eventually comes to believe it has a ‘hatedom’ because how could someone dislike something I like so much? But a hatedom on its own arises out of very specific circumstances and environments, and causes the spread of hate for a product based on broad foundations that are often unfair to the product and which creates perceptions that spread faster than the work, so that the work is often talked about in mocking reference rather than true dissatisfaction.

RWBY doesn’t have a hatedom guys, it never did. The Last of Us doesn’t have a hatedom. Fairy Tail didn’t have a hatedom. Blackpink doesn’t have a hatedom. Even Marvel doesn’t have a hatedom.

Paris Hilton had a hatedom. Nickelback had a hatedom. Hell, the website Tumblr itself had a hatedom. These were examples of people or products whose reputations spread too quickly and eventually swallowed rational perception of them, with people who have never experienced them or their work dismissing them and the fans who enjoy it wholesale.

Using the term “hatedom” is understandably common because (and in spite of the fact that) it allows for easy miscategorization. A hatedom is not composed of people that were actually exposed to the work, found it lacking, and expressed that. A hatedom does not occur in the wake of a product that was so bad it pissed off its fans and caused them to walk. People don’t hate Metroid: Other M because they can’t stand the sight of a woman being vulnerable and don’t understand challenging drama, they hate it because it was poorly written, badly designed, and tarnished a long-running and highly cherished gaming heroine’s reputation. People didn’t hate Fifty Shades of Grey because of some bias against women expressing their sexual freedom, they hated it because it was a wildly misogynistic and badly-written piece of dreck. People didn’t hate The Last of Us Part II because of homophobia and transphobia, they hated it because it was a misery fest with a tired moral theme that posited itself far more deep and compelling than it really was. And just because people with the above disingenuous views also hated these things does not discount the fact that the works got the reputations they did because they were getting back the exact amount of love and respect that was put into them.

Similarly, RWBY doesn’t have a hatedom. It does, in fact, have an ex-fandom. Those are also things you don’t see very often, but when you do, they almost always follow the same pattern, don’t they? A work which got wildly popular very quickly, took really deep nosedives afterward, and became disowned by the people that had formerly propped it up.

But that’s a discussion for later. What exactly makes RWBY’s fandom so toxic and cult-like, and why and how did it get that way? I think it’s a combination of several key factors that were baked in and collided badly.

The first was ease of access. RWBY was sold extremely well early on, and shared enough similarities with both anime and video games that it attracted many curious people from those communities. Combine that with vibrant colors, an attractive visual aesthetic, an air of badassery, and good music, and it gained a lot of loyal fans quickly—fans of anime and video games, specifically, being fans that tend to get more attached than to other mediums and are known for spending a lot on merchandise. These, in turn, morphed into nostalgic elements ripe for misremembering—people often have difficulty acknowledging that something they once liked isn’t good anymore even on its own, and I think RWBY fans in particular put way too much energy into the show to be able to admit that all the time they spent defending it (and harassing people who criticized it) was for nothing.

That skyhigh rocket to fame early on, of course, was attached to the reputation of Monty Oum, and once he died, he quickly became a martyr, which galvanized the loyalty of the show’s most toxic fans even further. To this day, talking about Monty at all, even for the right reasons, is seen as disrespectful or distasteful unless you’re trying to use him to prop up Rooster Teeth, a double standard I’ve unfortunately run into even in seeming safe spaces. I think if we’re comparing RWBY fandom to a cult, then Monty Oum and his memory can be compared to a central mythologized figure, the center around which are formed all of the pretty lies the members of the cult will tell you. Monty’s name is irreplaceably tied to RWBY, and as such, in order to defend Monty, its fans have to defend RWBY...and you can see where this leads. Attempting to talk about the mistreatment Monty and his family went through at Rooster Teeth is seen as using his name as a weapon—nevermind the fact that Rooster Teeth and their fans regularly use his name as a shield.

Of course, what this really reveals is that many such people don’t care about Monty, who he was, or who he went through, but rather his name alone. In fact, I’ve straight up seen RWBY stans say that people shouldn’t “take Monty’s name in vain”, as if Monty were in fact some sacred religious figure. It’s both bizarre and harmful.

A third factor was popularity. For a lot of the same reasons as, say, Supernatural, the perception of RWBY skews much more broadly between fan and ex-fan than that of the typical over-hyped show. The truth of the matter is that when a show gets popular, or really any work gets popular, enjoying it becomes a cliquey sort of thing. People that enjoyed being into something well-respected and widely known and basically the hottest trend are far more prone to become overly attached, put too much of themselves into it, and remain unequipped to deal with the fact of that trend’s eventual passing, especially if it’s a fall into disgrace rather than a quiet entrance into history. You can still find certain especially toxic big names from the RWBY fandom active and posting, pretending not to notice that their audience has become smaller and smaller over the years. Let’s face facts here, a lot of people that enjoy being part of the “in” crowd never manage to figure out how to accept losses and will do anything to try and regain lost popularity, or fool themselves into thinking they’re still on top of the world.

But we can reason and explain all day. Another truth of the matter is that it shouldn’t be other people’s problem that fans can’t accept reality and adjust, and that the RWBY fandom quite honestly deserves its reputation as abysmally toxic. The way terminal fans of the show have treated anyone who dissents, most prominently Shane Newville and other ex-employees, let alone other ex-fans of the show, is quite frankly disgusting. RWBY stans are difficult to look at in all of their bewildering, teeth-gnashing toxicity and forgive...so I’m not going to. People that still insist there’s nothing wrong with this show or the company making it are, as far as I’m concerned, beyond help, and are part of the problem. Many an ex-employee certainly thinks so.

In a lot of ways, you could call the fandom one of the driving forces of the show’s failure, mostly because they had an abnormally large amount of influence over the show. Pleasing the fans has always been a major goal of the RWBY team (unless you like characters Miles Luna doesn’t, I guess), but it’s almost disturbing how the Rooster Teeth strategy has been to lead them along and bat their eyelashes at every turn and how the fandom laps it up.

Of course, Rooster Teeth feeds the parasocial engine by engaging with the fans as equals, and I was given a disturbing reminder of how many of the people who worked on the show—the ones who aren’t pissed and digging themselves out of trauma ditches—behave exactly as the fans do, tweeting twenty times a day about their favorite ships and memes. By creating the perception that RWBY’s team is just like the RWBY fanbase and wants the same things they want, they tap that line of excess energy that’s kept this fandom going so long despite how far it’s fallen. It’s that “hey! my friend said my ship is going to be canon and he works on the show” feeling.

Of course, a probable reason as to why so many employees who worked on RWBY behave the way RWBY fans do is because a lot of them started out that way. As in, student hires. This has long been an open secret of Rooster Teeth’s M.O. for a while now, hiring people who look up to them and engage heavily with their content. Many an ex-animator has lambasted this tactic because it’s insidious, and purposely designed to make the incoming staff feel honored and indebted and excited so they won’t notice how they’re being fucked over. Arryn Troche, who made the ‘gays greenlighting volume 10’ tweet, rings up as a particularly eerie example considering they have the same rather-uncommon and unconventionally-spelled name as the voice actor for a ship they’re obviously very attached to. A quick search reveals them to have been a longtime fan and cosplayer for the show before being signed on as a junior animator.

And it is the fandom who ultimately makes the legacy for any given work or body of work. So what is RWBY ultimately going to be remembered for?

Legacy

I thought about it for a little while and found five things that are most likely to be associated with RWBY in the public’s memory after its death. The first should come as no surprise to anyone.

Bumbleby

The only part of RWBY that will likely be carried on by fans who stuck with it until the end is, of course, the only part of it that mattered, to many of them. You’ll know from my earlier recaps that shipping was always a big deal in fandom, but due to key choices (or if you prefer, mistakes) made during Volumes 2 and 3, one ship grew larger and more promoted in fandom circles than any others.

This is a combination of the unique features of the RWBY fandom and their one-track mind. The fans are well-known, as I said, to fill in the blanks in a pattern that best suits their narratives, and this works out with Rooster Teeth because it means that any sudden changes in direction they make will always be excused and praised rather than critically examined. Unsurprisingly, Bumbleby’s fandom, now that their victory has been cemented, have doubled down on their narrative that this was the intended goal from the beginning, despite it being plainly obvious that early RWBY was angling for Sun Wukong as the love interest and threw the occasional bones to Blake/Yang shippers to try and play nice.

This used to be one part of the fandom, of course, but as the show continually bombed with viewers and made more and more decisions that pushed them away, all competitors were slowly filtered out as their fans left, until Bumbleby shippers were the fandom. It’s no coincidence that Blake and Yang suddenly started acting unusually touchy and sentimental in Volume Six, following on the heels of a volume of RWBY so wildly unpopular that it woke up the company execs and forced them to acknowledge that the biggest part of their fanbase was only going to remain loyal in exchange for one thing: their ship.

The sad thing is that you can tell Rooster Teeth wanted to explore other options. Volume Five features a rather sudden shift into Yang and Weiss interactions in what I remain positive to this day was an attempt to sway shippers into a potential second choice while Black Sun was still in the oven, and this really represented one of the major errors of Rooster Teeth, in that they failed to understand the audience they were trying so hard to please.

Bumbleby became what I call a “Big Red Button” ship, and it is only the second of its kind that I’ve seen. The first? Destiel.

Yes, there’s a reason I kept comparing RWBY to Supernatural whenever Blake and Yang’s relationship came up. I admit I wasn’t a part of the Supernatural craze in its heyday and have never really enjoyed the show, but I’ve watched enough of it to connect the dots from what cultural osmosis I had to the eventual downfall we saw in November of 2020.

Both Bumbleby and Destiel were held up as the gay ship that would change everything, the biggest ship in the fandom and the one that would’ve been a major push for LGBT visibility, at least during their heydays. The problem was that its fans were not really that interested in LGBT visibility and were simply obsessed with the ship itself, applying it value as a win for LGBT audiences purely to bolster its perceived importance. Fans like this were not ever going to accept any alternatives regardless of the sexual orientations or gender conventions involved. Hence, the metaphor that is “the big red button”. You have a big red button that says “canon gay ship but not the ship you want” and ask the fans you’re trying to court whether they’d press it or not. Whatever they might say out loud, you know none of them is pressing that fucking button, ever.

Both of these Big Red Button ships became what they were due to showrunners being forced into courting an audience they really didn’t care for, and how could you blame them when both were infamously very, very over-active and annoying in general. Just like with RWBY’s well-intentioned but misguided Freezerburn phase in Volume 5, Supernatural also tried to gently shut down fans who then managed to obliviously ignore any and all hints that their ship was not meant to be endgame, and I can say that because “he’s like a brother to me” in any fandom but Supernatural would’ve been a tactical nuclear strike that sent the shippers packing. Once it failed, the gay bait came out in full force. It’s well known by now that, contrary to what one would imagine, the CW was not pulling a profit off of Supernatural’s minor mainstream success pushed by a cult following, so it’s no wonder they eventually resorted to desperately baiting the one audience that was going to stick it out no matter what, provided they had the right relationship dangled in front of them. RWBY went through the same thing.

The main problem with these two ships is that for all its diehards insisted that it was all about the gay representation, their respective shows teased and baited for so long that the world outside the little bubble these shippers lived in had moved on by the time they came to fruition. Gay visibility in media these days, at least western media, is easily available, to the extent that sometimes people believe homophobia is totally over when it really, really isn’t. If you’re looking for gay representation, you can find it plenty of places, and the first place you look probably isn’t going to be Supernatural or RWBY. So the huge wave of viewers that these shippers expected upon their victories was never going to occur, which might could’ve been avoided if the writers had simply grown a pair and made moves towards canon much sooner than before the shows were on their last legs and due to be scrapped.

Or, you know, just been honest. Diversions and alternatives were never going to work. The only thing that these shippers were ever going to understand was a hard no, a “sorry, this ship isn’t going to happen”. But the execs in charge of these shows were never willing to take a hit like that, so instead they dug their own grave.

And where does that leave the shippers, those people who devoted their whole lives to these fictional characters, only to find the show that bore them into the universe dead in a ditch? Well, nowhere good. Much like Supernatural, RWBY is heavily associated with its booming period, the heavily online portion of these shippers’ lives in the early and mid-2010s when it was all the rage, and yet in modern day, it’s seen as a bad neighborhood to hang in, an abandoned mansion at the corner of the street where awful things happened. These shippers don’t have many friends except each other.

Just like RWBY, Supernatural also exists primarily as an ex-fandom now. Much of its former fanbase remember the good days fondly but make no secret that they stopped following it once the writing tanked, and this left the shippers without many allies to associate with since so many of them had been pissed off with the way their shows ultimately became the Destiel Show and the Bumbleby Show, respectively. Contrary to an unfortunately popular idea, these shows did have actual LGBT fanbases, only a lot of their LGBT fans were not on kool-aid and avoided being sucked into a trap called “if you don’t ship this, you’re homophobic”.

You will find that the Bumbleby fandom are often looked on with disdain by quite a number of viewers of RWBY who have accused them of speaking over minorities, sexual and otherwise. Many fans have noted that, aside from Blake’s bisexuality being a seemingly late addition (Arryn Zech is noted to have cast her as straight when discussing Ilia Amitola’s ill-fated crush on her as late as 2019), Blake was very swiftly removed from all faunus characters who held romantic connotations in favor of Yang, implicitly saying that Blake was better committing to a white human woman than to an ethnic faunus male. There are obvious reasons why this left a bad taste in peoples’ mouths. Not to mention, other LGBT fans that invested in the show were not exactly welcomed with open arms.

Fair Game, or as I tend to call it, Qrowver? Qrow x Clover? Yeah, that was huge in Volume 7’s airing days. It very much experienced a rapid ballooning in fans and fandom love...but we all know how that ended. Many a fan who felt heartbroken and, importantly, betrayed by Clover’s sudden and rather pointless death turned on RWBY and Rooster Teeth and accused them of gaybaiting, which is of course exactly what happened. They received no sympathy from Bumbleby shippers—because of course they wouldn’t. If Rooster Teeth would gaybait with Qrow, a popular male character, that would mean they could potentially be gaybaiting with Blake and Yang, too. That was unacceptable, and so ironically the part of the fandom that had always crowed about the importance of extending a hand to LGBT viewers turned on LGBT viewers, valiantly defending Rooster Teeth as they always had.

And because Bumbleby fans had no room in their hearts for anything about RWBY except Bumbleby, and were hostile to anyone who didn’t ship it, they ended up being their own best friends and everyone else’s bad memories. When RWBY has faded from the public’s memory and is no longer a source of active income at all (so, basically right now), one of the only relics you’ll find of this show will be the two women making out in all the fanart you’ll find on the occasional Tumblr blog.

The Bigotry

You could call this section “the Racism” since that’s the biggest part of it, but we’d be remiss in neglecting the harm done to other minorities as well. We’ll get to them in a minute, but race is the thing that’s going to pop to mind when we talk about one of the other things RWBY left behind in the common memory.

One of the longest-running subplots that RWBY ever went through with was the racism subplot. Its basis is one of the things that so severely dates RWBY: creating an in-universe stand-in for people of color through the existence of people with animal traits was something you would absolutely not get away with after 2020, and even by 2016 was something liable to be seen as tacky. Nonetheless, RWBY openly used the faunus as stand-ins for black Americans and the struggles they faced in a white world.

Except that the company, based in Texas and headed largely by white staff, did not feel the importance of that. What slowly started out as a main character’s attempt to redeem an organization she felt had been driven too far and was no longer her home was slowly transformed into a means by which some incredibly racist people could spout off about what they felt were the real issues to be talked about, which were the condemnation they felt was deserved by activists that turned to violence, labeled, a little too quickly, as terrorists.

The 2010s saw a shift in social values, and much as with gay audiences and gay characters, black audiences and black characters—as well as other racial minorities—were experiencing something of a renaissance, with efforts to put the voices of these people into the public’s feeds. It wasn’t just George Floyd in 2020—the unexpected and frankly traumatic reign of Donald Trump as president of the United States galvanized the divide in America and social awareness became a bigger thing than ever, and since Trump was a flagrantly racist person with racist beliefs who enacted racist policies and was uplifted by racist Americans, people pushed back as they felt their lives and existences being threatened by a racist establishment...an establishment which Rooster Teeth came down on the side of very firmly.

No quarter is given to the fictional stand-ins. Sienna Khan’s policies are never examined in-depth, and the only close looks we get at the sorts of activism the White Fang does are at Adam, who is obviously condemned by the narrative and made into everything but a mustache-twirler, with delusional and frankly baffling beliefs of faunus superiority spelled out at length. No matter what concessions Rooster Teeth might’ve tried to make with Sienna’s beliefs before they stuck a sword in her, the fact of the matter is that their beliefs came through in the voices of Ghira and Blake, who made it very clear that the individual motives and experiences of people like Ilia, Corsac, Fennec, Yuma, and the rest simply don’t matter in the face of what they’d been driven to do by them. The whole ‘blacks can be racist’ tone of the final scenes involved in this subplot are both miles removed from the more cautious and neutral tone of early RWBY, and also just a very alarming red flag overall.

I went over this in my Volume 5 Final Thoughts: the shoddiness of the volume does not lie solely with the animation department. Miles and Kerry are known to have had generally sole control of the show up until Volume 7—but we also know that they didn’t have to, if they were writing anything company execs felt wasn’t to their tastes. The sudden twisting of Adam into a homicidal incel ex-boyfriend, along with his mutation into a faunus supremacist, when he was the face of the faunus movement as a whole, along with Sun’s blatant ill will towards the White Fang when he’d previously been willing to give them a chance on Blake’s word, all imply that Miles and Kerry endorsed the worst possible interpretations of racial activists and felt free to condemn them and place responsibility onto the faunus—and by extension, the real-life minorities they represented—to take a stand against the bad seeds within their causes, and the fact no one stopped them from airing this implies the higher-ups felt the same way.

People didn’t just leave RWBY after Volume 5 because of some really badly animated fights—they left because they’d felt too much of the authors’ racism coming through in the narrative and couldn’t comfortably continue watching. Every member of the faunus that had “bad” views was either killed (Adam, Sienna, Fennec), arrested (Corsac, Yuma), or “redeemed” by choosing to fight the first two (Ilia). All of these combined factors, with no room for charitable interpretations…not a good look.

And once Adam was defeated in Volume 5, and the White Fang reformed, that was the last anyone saw of that subplot, which had taken five years to wrap up and somehow still ended too early. Miles and Kerry had washed their hands of it, and references to Blake’s place in society were sparing from then on. This subplot’s inescapable presence throughout the show, combined with how it was dropped out of existence, left no room for redemption, either. No one was going back and saying “maybe this looks really, really bad”.

And so, that’s what a lot of people carried with them as their final and most relevant memories of RWBY: it’s astounding levels of racism. This is a bitter subject for many an ex-RWBY fan, many of whom aren’t white and, even among those that are, it’s simply inexcusable. Meet someone on social media who talks about RWBY at all, and isn’t one of the Bumbleby stans we’ve already discussed? You will find some mention or other of RWBY’s racist elements somewhere within their sphere. And so, that becomes a part of RWBY’s legacy, as a feature of the show that was simply too big to ignore and too poorly-handled to forgive. People don’t get over this shit, man.

This is of course not to mention the well deserved shitty reputation RWBY has for its other bigoted elements, as well. Bumbleby, as we’ve discussed, encompassed pretty much every RWBY stan left standing by 2020, but that left quite a few ex-fans that were fed up with the company’s obvious ploys when it came to sexuality and gender. Remember when I talked about Qrowver up above? Its ballooning and immediate fall from grace was a much-condensed version of RWBY as a whole, and pretty much featured as Rooster Teeth blowing their last remaining patience from LGBT fans to smithereens. The fact of the matter is that when you get down to it, every RWBY volume after Volume 4 was not a good time to be a minority. If you were gay, the show seemed to either ignore or despise you—between the background gays that warranted mockery, the mixed reception Ilia generated, and the outrage that finally boiled over when Clover bit it, part of RWBY’s legacy is how utterly unpleasant it has been for LGBT fans who expected and deserved better.

And so despite entering the scene in 2013 as a supposedly progressive show all for being led by four women, the show died known as a low-effort half-baked cringefest whose politics were always on display and always several years behind the trend.

The Good Days

Of course, another major part of RWBY’s legacy is the early days when everyone actually liked it. This is, again, something the show creators brought on themselves and something fans assisted with. I did mention the nostalgia for the Good Ol’ Days as a significant part of the RWBY fandom’s more cult-like elements, after all. The fact of the matter is, on some level, everyone knows that RWBY has spent several years going downhill. The ex-fans lament this fact, and the diehard stans insist that it’s all just as good as it used to be, primarily by doing what they do quite a lot, and linking completely coincidental elements back to things characters said or did in previous volumes as some sort of evidence that this has been the plan all along.

I’ve run polls on this matter before; even though I’ve recapped Volumes 1-3 thoroughly and shone lights on some pretty significant flaws, you ask anyone what they think the best volume of RWBY was and they’re gonna tell you Volume 3. Yes, even with all of the stalking incel Adam and the deaths of Penny and Pyrrha. It’s the last time RWBY felt cohesive and even though some obvious derailing was in effect, and Shane Newville has openly said that the behind-the-scenes matters were pretty ugly, it’s still the golden child. Shane’s only one person, and it’d be a while before RWBY scandals would become consistent and begin to overshadow the show as a whole.

The RWBY team themselves have certainly nurtured that very much on purpose. That tactic started with them, of course. Many elements that were either unpopular or predicted to ruffle feathers were stated to have originated in earlier volumes, even in situations where this wouldn’t have made sense or where it’s an obvious lie—such as Maria Calavera. They know full well their seasons post-Volume 3 were unpopular and receiving blowback, and tried to minimize it by linking them to more well-respected seasons. Suffice to say that this simply didn’t work. But it does make people remember those earlier volumes. Because so many ex-fans lost their energy for RWBY after its most active period, much of the hype from the hype era is all that you’ll see when you encounter one. Nostalgia wins out in the end, and at least RWBY can say that, as a show, it had enough of a headstart to leave an impression that lasted in a positive way. Although that’s only one side of the coin...

The Scandals

Let’s face facts here, the biggest part of RWBY’s legacy, period, is that it fucking died. It didn’t die instantly, but rather took hit after hit, blow after blow, and slowly had its image tarnished alongside that of the company, which failed to contain repeated scandals as ex-employee after ex-employee after ex-employee spoke out about the abysmal ways they’d been treated.

RWBY is Rooster Teeth’s biggest IP by far and, really, their only one worth talking about. Every other show was either eclipsed by it or unofficially canceled after bad reception. So when Rooster Teeth suffered the consequences of their actions, so did RWBY. It really can’t be overstated how the last few years of RWBY’s existence have been absolutely bombarded by a barrage of terrible Glassdoor reviews and bombshell exposure letters. Fans managed to stay strong through the first few rumblings of ill will, but after Volume 5 shook the fandom loose, discontent entered enough of the fandom sphere to be normalized, and once that happened, it was all downhill. Once people were actually allowed to talk about not liking Rooster Teeth’s content, they sure as hell weren’t going to be dissuaded from talking about not liking Rooster Teeth as a company or its practices.

Separating the art from the artist is a very difficult thing to do and only really appropriate in certain situations. Don’t fall for any kool-aid, guys, it doesn’t make you more mature or ‘above all the drama’ to actively ignore the damage done to real people in the process of getting fictional content out into the world.

If you’re still able to enjoy the Harry Potter books and look back on the good times they gave you in fondness, then fine. If you actually purchased and played the Hogwarts Legacy game programmed by antisemites and which puts money in the pocket of the transphobic owner of the franchise, then yeah, people will be right to give you shit for it. There’s a difference between quietly enjoying a product in a manner that doesn’t hurt anybody, and actively ignoring the people hurt to make that product while feigning concern. The gap in the fandom widened as the repeated leaks and scandals continuously ate away at the protective bubble around Rooster Teeth and it became clear that whatever fans might bleat, Rooster Teeth wasn’t going to ‘learn their lesson and do better’. The habitual cycle of using whatever recent scandal had occurred to cast disappointment and anger on a particular figure and uplift the rest of “CRWBY” (see also: the Gray Haddock issue) gave diminishing returns as the bombs kept dropping. This is part of why RWBY has such an ex-fandom, because if they aren’t enjoying the product and people were hurt to make it, why stay?

Crunching employees so hard they struggle to sleep and suffer debilitating health issues? Writing the n-word on a white board knowing a black employee will see it? Goading someone into trying to kill themselves? Calling an LGBT employee a slur and then making up a public-friendly nickname in place of that slur just to get away with continuing to call her that? Laying off people without warning or a means of letting them stay afloat until another job is found? Not paying or crediting employees and cultivating an environment where those in charge do what they want and those in the public eye reap all the benefit while those without a consistent spotlight get treated like dirt?

Just some of the things I thought up off the top of my head. There’s plenty more in the details. And you can’t blame Fullscreen, you can’t blame Warner, you can’t just write it off as something that happens at animation studios, because it isn’t. Yeah, the work environment in general for animation studios in America is lacking because, ya know, late-stage capitalism hellscape, but that’s dismissive of the point. Rooster Teeth are a bad company and hurt their employees and lie when called on it. It’s impossible to separate RWBY from Rooster Teeth (despite stubborn stans’ best attempts, which themselves have been called out by these same ex-employees) and because of that, RWBY’s legacy is one of corporate abuse and utterly vile behavior towards people that just wanted to make something cool.

People have refused to associate with the show over these things and honestly, they’re right to. RWBY’s ultimate legacy, if we’re honest, is the show that became a shadow of its former self, still trying to dazzle with reminders of its former glory and promises of gay relationships, all while trying to squeeze money out of both the employees who made it and the fans who upheld it. It’s the show that cost hundreds of people their physical and mental health and didn’t even have anything to show for it at the end of the day. It will live on in history as the most bitter of pills to swallow, that something you once liked and wanted to succeed can and will be ruthlessly twisted for profit margins and might actively hate you on the side. And speaking of…

Monty Oum

The biggest travesty of RWBY’s legacy is that Monty Oum is ultimately only the smallest part of it. He’s there, but barely—he’s a name in the credits that quite frankly is only there to keep up the facade of loyalty, when the show had stopped being Monty’s show before he even died and by now can be safely said to resemble nothing he would’ve made.

It’s a shame that for all that Monty was held up as a genius of his craft and a genuinely good man who inspired so many people, all he’s going to be remembered for is...this. A show people only attach his name to in an effort to insist it’s actually worth sticking by. Yes, Monty did other things, had other works, but none of them ever achieved even a fraction of the fame and respect that RWBY had from its first baby steps in 2013.

Maybe this could’ve been avoided if the real carriers of Monty’s legacy—Sheena, his wife, and Shane, his pupil—hadn’t been cast off as they had.

Shane seems to have found a new life and is working with Dillon Gu on animation, but I think we’ve all noticed his name hasn’t gone mainstream yet. I’ve tried to get in touch with him; from what I’ve gleaned, I frankly just advise leaving him alone. He wants to move on and I don’t think the RWBY fandom, which was so awful to him for telling the truth, is ever going to be a place he can feel welcome.

Sheena has mostly been quiet and done her own thing, cosplaying and watching anime and hopefully enjoying herself, although I notice posts on her Twitter feed from last year calling for a New Deal in the animation sector and castigating corporate abuses.

She also plays Hades, a much better product than RWBY with more love put into it and much better LGBT representation, which means her taste is excellent. She has a site now that you can go to, and the about section doesn’t mention Monty, her late husband, at all, for obvious reasons: Sheena doesn’t want to be connected to RWBY. Though, there is something there that’s noteworthy, in the last paragraph:

Still desiring a social element to her career, the animator turned professional cosplayer also has a history in the live stream world. Past broadcasts have included creating costume pieces, playing games with community members and subscribers, RPGs and more. No matter the project, peers or problem, Sheena strives to keep moving forward.

That powerful phrase we all associate with Monty.

It’s a shame that this show had to be Monty’s legacy, and that years off from now, his name isn’t going to mean anything to the public because the project he was passionate about and died making outlived him and his passion. It feels like his legacy was stolen, and his own part in the show’s legacy is held up purely as a pedestal on which the show should rightfully shine.

Every time I think about Monty, I think about how much I don’t want that to be me. For all the years I’ve spent here, with my graphics certifications being wasted since I earned them while I slave away in retail, I wonder if I’m the lucky one. If I were to enter the workforce and do what I loved, would it be worth it in the end? Would what happened to Monty and Sheena and Shane happen to me? Not sure I wanna know.

Snipped here.

#rwde #rwby

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billys-pretty-babe · 1 year

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The Angel

Pairings : Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

Summary : 2 years have passed since Billy was used as a host for the Mind Flayer and as soon as he recovered, he went back to California where he met you.

Picture from Pinterest

Warnings : Swearing, Karen Wheeler mentions

Word Count : 1.2k

A/N : I couldn't find a gif of him on the floor of the sauna but to me it always looked like ripped away angel wings.

You had always noticed the scars that littered his body, especially the identical large scars on his shoulder blades. Billy was insecure around you at first before he warmed up to you and now he's more than willing to take his shirt off around you, hell he hates the feeling of shirts, claims he's allergic to them.

It was summer time in Santa Barbara, the fan in your room on the highest setting and the two of you lounged around. "We should go see Top Gun." Billy looked at you and scowled, "No, you just want to see Tom Cruise shirtless." You rolled your eyes, "I'm sick of shirtless men," you said, poking fun at him.

"Oh really," your boyfriend asked as he flexed and the scars became slightly more prominent. He never talked about them but Billy noticed the way you looked at them, you never stared, you were taught that staring was rude and disrespectful. "I got these in Hawkins." You nodded, "That's the Indiana place right?" He nodded and laid down, resting his head on your black pillow.

"There was creepy shit in that town, like supernatural shit." You nodded and held his hand. "Um, it was during the summer, I can't really remember the date but I think I was fresh eighteen and I was a lifeguard at the community pool." He furrowed his brow, trying to remember some of the details, sure he had been told about things but he still tried to fill in the gaps on his own.

"There was this mom, Karen was her name, I was going to meet up with her one night at a motel six and on the way to the motel, something hit my car and shattered my windshield, it was a spiderweb shatter. I was at this abandoned warehouse and I was dragged down the stairs by this shadow monster thing." He looked at your face, trying to gage your reaction, ready for the laughs, claiming that he was funny for coming up with an absurd story but it never came.

He was met with soft eyes, eyes that were on his face trying to look for any signs of discomfort. "It did something to me, I can't remember, no matter how hard I try. I had trouble going to work because it didn't like the heat and my skin would burn and I'd get these black veins all over my body." He swallowed the lump in his throat and you rubbed his knuckles.

"It fed off energy so I gathered people, um my co-worker Heather, I don't know what happened to her afterwards. The scars on my back are from a fight in a sauna against this freaky little girl, she was friends with Max." You nodded, knowing who Max was. "They never healed, I'm not sure why. July fourth came and I don't know if you ever heard about it, probably not, I doubt it made the news here but the mall burned down." You nodded, "I heard about it, they said there were two casualties." Billy nodded, "Obviously there weren't, actually, I'm not sure about Hopper but that freaky kid, her name's El or Jane, the kids called her both."

"I was going to sacrifice her and she did this weird shit and got into my head and I felt human again for the first time in a while, even before I got turned into that weird monster. I didn't want anything to happen to her so I was going to sacrifice myself, Max was in the mall with her friends. I was horrible to her and I felt like it was the only way to show her that I cared about her. The monster hit me, here, here and here," he said as he pointed to the scars on his chest, sides and abdomen.

"Apparently someone closed the gate or whatever, I don't remember what they called it but basically, the shadow monster wasn't able to penetrate deep enough to kill me, that's how I got all of these scars." You nodded and looked at each one. "I'm sorry," you said and he looked at you. "What're you apologizing for?" You shrugged, "I don't know, I just feel like I should be sorry. Sorry that it happened to you, I don't know." Billy shook his head, "If none of that happened, I wouldn't be here with you so I guess in a way, I'm glad it happened, Just wish I didn't have the physical reminders." You nodded.

You traced some of the scars, "Your back scars remind me of an angel." He raised a brow, "Baby, I'm far from an angel," he said flirtatiously and winked at you making you laugh at him, your cheeks heating up at the reminder of the previous night that was spent with him. "They remind me of angel wings, like they were taken from you." Billy looked at you before laughing, "You're so cheesy." You groaned and flicked his nose and he laughed as he scrunched it.

"Too bad I can't call you Angel since you already call me that." Billy laughed, "Yup, it's taken, can't be used." You both laughed and he opened his arms for you to lay on his chest and you gladly got comfortable on him, putting your head under his chin. "B." He hummed, "Do you wish you could go back to Hawkins?" "No, I'm glad I got out of it. I wish I could see my sister but she'll be eighteen in a few years, she writes to me a lot plus she's coming to visit in July. She wants to meet you." You smiled against his neck, "You talk about me?" He laughed, "Yeah, of course I do, sent her one of our polaroids too. She thinks you're pretty." You smiled.

"She did mention that when she visits in July she doesn't want to hear happy screams. Whatever that means," he said, acting clueless. You both laughed and he held you tightly, you noticed he did that a lot more lately. He yawned loudly and dramatically smacked his lips and you laughed at him. "Wanna stay the night?" "Is your dad gonna try and chase me over your fence? I can't jump over it again, I ripped a pair of my pants doing that." You bit your lip, trying so hard to keep the laugh in.

"He's in Arizona for business. Won't be back until August and mom has the night shift." He nodded and leaned over to turn off the lamp as he pulled the sheet over your body, knowing that if he got too hot, he would start to panic. He felt your hand search for his and he felt you smile against him as you intertwined your fingers. Your breathing evened out and he let out a happy sigh, he was healing, the physical healing was done and over with a year ago but he was mentally and emotionally healing from everything he's ever gone through.

He still hasn't talked about his dad but maybe he will, Baby Billy still needed to heal after all. You held him slightly tighter in your sleep and he knew you were dreaming and he smiled and kissed the top of your hair before shifting a little and falling asleep with the moonlight being the only light in the room.

#billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x f!reader #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargove imagine #billy eddie steve babygirl loves soft!billy #billy hargrove #william hargrove #stranger things fanfiction #billy stranger things #stranger things billy

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emilia-chopin · 23 days

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Frederic Chopin's instructions in letter to Julian Fontanna 1841.06.01

tw: long post with explanations and visualizations below

"My Darling,

I am sending you one hundred francs for various expenses, first of which you will (...) pay the letters to the doorman at home, and pay the bouquet maker, which demands six. You can buy me (...) Benjoin soap [1], 2 pairs of Swedish gloves (you can find an old one made to measure somewhere in the closet), a bottle of Patchouli, a bottle of Bouquet de Chantilly.[2] In the Palais Royal, in the gallery on the side of the theaters, almost in the middle, there is a large haberdashery shop (as they say); it has two windows with displays of various caskets, pranks and nothingnesses, shiny, elegant and expensive. There you will ask if they have an ivory handle for scratching a head. You must have seen a similar thing more than once: a small, usually curved, white handle mounted on a black stick. [3] I think I saw one there; ask and they will tell you. Well, find this thing and send it to me if it doesn't cost more than 10, 15, 20 or even 30 francs. Let Pleyel give you a copy of my Preludes, and take all my Etudes from Schl[esinger]. If my Dantan's bust of mine [4] is at Sussa's, buy two and have them packed well for the journey; if not, please go to Dantan, who lives on St. Lazare, where Alkan is (hug him when you see him), and ask if you can have them and where he can get them (on the way, remind him of my brown one, what he was supposed to do). In the cupboard upstairs you will find a flat tin bottle, covered with flannel, which you put on your stomach with warm water, [5] and a new bloated pillow, which I bought for the journey. You will also add Kastner [6] to this and send it packed (...) have it packed in a box of appropriate size, wrap it well and send them to Lafitte et Cayard, addressed to me as letters. Get away, please. Keep the rest of the money for other shipments. Don't pay for Schlesinger or delay him if he doesn't have Kastner, but definitely send Cherubini's traité, I think, du contre point (I don't know the title well). [7] If he doesn't want to give you Cherubini without money, pay up, because maybe Cherubini spent it himself and he was just a commission agent. I will write to Troupenas through you in a few days. I hug you because the mail is leaving. Forgive me, my old man, but you will receive the letter on Sunday. Send on Monday.

Ch."

Now, some explanations and visualizations:

[1] Benjoin soap is made with benzoin resin. It improves skin elasticity and smoothness and helps speed up wound healing. It also helps prevent moisture loss and keeps skin soft and smooth. It is also known to reduce the risk of allergic reactions to certain types of soap. It was great for Frycek's delicate skin.

[2] it's cologne or perfumes. As i mentioned before, Frycek took great care of himself.

[3] Ivory scratcher... I think it's something like this:

[4] Jean Pierre Dantan is a sculptor who made a bust of Frederic Chopin. Here is the reproduction of it by Jerzy Steckiewicz:

[5] Hot water bottle covered with flannel. Frycek uses it when he had a stomachache or when he was cold. It probably looked similar to this:

[6] I think my brother means one of a book by Jean-Georges Kastner, born 9 March 1810 in Strasbourg, a composer and musicologist.

[7] I think it's Cours de contrepoint et de fugue, a book about music theory published in 1835, by Luigi Cherubini. My brother wanted to translate and critique this book.

@chopinski-official :)

#chopin's letters #frederic chopin #classical composers #classical music #chopin #classical composer #fryderyk chopin #classic composers #listy chopina #julian fontana

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eustasskiddsprosthetic · 8 days

Text

Hey, remember when I said I shipped Lawlulaw? Yeah, I finally have an idea for them!

As I was fleshing this out, I suddenly felt the need to shove in Acelaw and Sabolaw in there so uh that's fun. I wanted this to be Lulaw centered but the moments of Ace and Sabo can be very easily spun into a romantic direction if I wanted and I wanted to be open to having a Law harem!

Welp, anyways, onto the plot I cooked. Edit: I elaborated more on this au here (x)!

I'm thinking of Law as a scientist who studies marine life. He has a huge lab where he collects specimens and spends a lot of time sketching out the intricate details and labelling them. He loves drawing these because it helps him get a clear, objective view of the world. His ultimate goal is to know just what makes the world tick.

He wants to know the inner workings of everything, kind of to compensate for how he barely knows himself and the depths of his subconscious nature. He believes everything has a place. A creature's ever part, every organ, every component is like a gear that keeps the whole system running and Law loves analysing them.

It may or may not be surprising but he actually believes in things like monsters, aliens and cryptids. From his experience, there's so many interesting sea creatures within the realm of science. It seemed a bit rude to dismiss the possibility. You never fucking know.

So that means when he sees a merman washed up one day in front of the beach near his home. He shrugs and says, "Well, he looks better than a drunk Bepo."

From indifference turned curiosity, Law squats down and starts poking this merman with a bit too much force and said merman jolts awake. Law notices how sharp his teeth and claws were. Law knew he would die if he did not approach him correctly.

"H-hello. I'm Law. Are you okay?"

The merman was visibly confused. Law realised he seemed a bit dehydrated and realised his gills on his neck looked uncomfortable. Law understood. He pointed to the ocean behind the merman.

"I'll take you back," Law said. He did not know how to approach the situation beyond rolling up his sleeves just in case the merman had an allergic reaction to his shirt and very gently trying to carry the creature princess-style.

Law was horrified to feel that this creature was heavy and struggled with carrying him. So much for wanting to be brave. The merman did not do anything to make things difficult—Law just was not the strongest out there. He just stared at Law with literal stars in his eyes. He made a cheerful little sound that was admittedly quite cute.

Law let the merman go when he was just around waist-deep in the ocean. He gently poured some water over his gills, which elicited even more happy sounds. When Law let go, the merman suddenly looked sad and Law felt like a horrible human being.

"Good bye. Take care"

The merman was swimming rather freely in the ocean now and he circled around Law. Law felt anxious. Did he walk into a trap? Was the merman going to attack? The merman did not seem hostile but you never know what these creatures were thinking especially when they were alive.

When the merman stopped swimming, Law took a good look at his features. He was quite cute in the face with large round eyes and an equally large mouth that occasionally broke into a large smile. If he were human, Law would've fallen in love.

"Good bye, it was nice meeting you-"

The next thing Law knew, he was immediately submerged underwater. He could barely breathe and felt himself choke. Meanwhile the merman was giggling like this was all very amusing. Law was knew he would die, if not for something rapidly swimming up and forcibly dragging the merman away.

Of course it was another muscular merman. He looked older than Law's murderer and had dark red accents on his hands and neck. There were spots on his face that looked like freckles. Now this one looked predatory. In human terms, he looked like he was nagging the other merman. Irritated, Law stood up as best he could and punched them both on the head.

Law's murderer seemed annoyed and sad at the violence, while the other one looked mildly impressed. He whistled through his gills. At least Law knew what that meant—it was a fucking mating call.

"Shut the fuck up! You're both annoying me! Go away!"

The black-haired mermen tilted their head to the side at the same time. In the distance, a pale, almost albino merman swam closer. Unlike the other two, he seemed friendlier even with a heavily disfigured face. He laughed as he happily said, "I'm sorry for my brothers, bastard!"

Law was flabbergasted. This was not his day.

"You can talk?"

The blonde merman seemed more surprised than Law. Law would punch him too but he was much faster than the other two in grabbing them by the shoulders and swimming some distance away so they would have to shout at each other. Law's murderer seemed sad that they were separated.

"You can talk, human?" The merman replied. He laughed. "Bitch!" He seemed to say those vulgarities with great childlike amusement. Though, Law would not be surprised to hear that he knew what those words meant and meant them sincerely. He seemed cunning.

Law felt wet, disgusting and thoroughly upset that he did not die. "Why, yes I fucking can! Piss off!"

As Law made his way back to the base, he suddenly heard the blonde merman tell the pervert and his murderer something. They went silent when Law looked back. Three seconds later, they started making loud, hysterical noises.

For God's sake, Law walked away with a ruined morning, wet clothes and the horrible memory of nearly dying. That was annoying, as he walked up the ocean where he was comfortably knee-length. He felt something gently grab his foot.

"What do you want, murderer?"

The merman pouted slightly and fuck isn't that just the cutest thing? He tried to pull Law back but gently this time. Law realised this was kind of like a child trying to make friends. He sighed and squatted down again to meet this creature at eye-level.

"I won't go with you but I'll come back tomorrow morning. Don't pull that shit again, or I'll kill all three of you. Understood?"

That seemed to be what the merman wanted for he smiled brightly and made those happy clicking noises again. He hugged Law's shoulders, licked his cheek quickly, jumped off and swam off with his brothers who seemed more interested in this little guy more than anyone else.

The sight was sweet. Maybe tomorrow morning would be better...

(Also, Law read up on Merfolk. Apparently, they were acknowledged to be legitimate sea creatures only three years ago and there were proper laws to forbid the act of hunting and killing them. Law found it strange that policies viewed them more like an endangered species than human beings.)

(More importantly, Law found out that there were some highly intelligent merfolk could learn human languages. And even more importantly, merfolk use their saliva to mark their territory... Including their mates, whom they usually commit to for life... Huh.)

#trafalgar law #monkey d luffy #lulaw #revolutionary sabo #sabolaw #portgas d ace #listen I saw like (1) fan art of merman Luffy and now I'm suddenly very interested in the idea #idk bro but asl+Law harem is something that needs to be explored more #sabo saying bitch with his whole chest made me laugh so much

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balloonboyismyson · 3 months

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I am getting sick and my only saving grace has been to think about how my FNAF crushes would act finding out Y/N is sick 🙏

So headcanon time, how would the Glamrocks (and Sean mayhaps) act finding out Y/N came into work sick and is trying to act normal about it (and failing)

OOOOOHH OKAY HEADCANON TIME (I hope it is just a fluke and you do not end up actually getting sick)!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Freddy would most certainly recognize your posture and demeanor first. Instantly, he races to you and makes you face him. With one scan, he can tell just what ailments you have. You attempt-in vain-to tell him you are fine, but he interrupts you with all the information he has received: "Runny nose, itchy and sore throat, fever, cold sweats, coughing and fatigue. You also appear to be having a mild allergic reaction to Dayquil." You try telling him it is all you had, but he brings you to a first-aid station in an attempt to scrounge up some benadryl and ice packs. Afterwards, he brings you back to his room and lays you on the couch.

Roxy notices your skin first. It is extremely dry, and your lips are extremely chapped. "What're you doing here?? You need to lay down now, you look like you're gonna pass out!" Since it is a Saturday, you try to tell her that you are hungover, but she rolls her eyes at you. "Someone who's hungover wouldn't be able to walk two steps in here without sunglasses as dark as Monty's." She orders you to go lie down on her couch and sleep. You try to remind her you are here for your job, but she has already moved on and is preoccupied brushing her hair. After a moment of not moving, she snaps her fingers and points to her couch. You walk over with your metaphorical tail between your legs and get comfortable.

Monty gets the wrong impression when you first step in his greenroom. He sprints over to you, his face painted with concern. "Hey did somethin' happen?? 'Re you okay??" When you meet his gaze, he softens. "Oh. Caught a bug?" You shake your head and tell him it is just allergies. Even through his sunglasses you can see him squint at you. "Tch'yeah. 'Kay. 'N' I'm a crocodile." You look away from him and attempt to steer the conversation to your nightly duties. "102.2" He states. You quirk a brow and question the number he gives you. "You're 102.2°F." You try to tell him you are not that bad, but before you can he picks you up, plops down on the couch and places you on top of him. You bring up your job, but he cuts you off. "Don't care."

Chica can hear just how awful you are in your voice when you greet her. "Woah!" She yells as she covers her beak and runs over to scan you. Once she is done she wastes no time grabbing your hand and back. "C'mere, c'mere now, easy does it." She leads you and sets you down on her surprisingly comfortable chair. Before you have time to de-escalate the situation, she is already out of the room. After a few minutes she returns with a few ice packs, water bottles and some benadryl. Again, you attempt to speak, but she shuts you down. "Here, take this!" Since she is the one who deals with sick and hurt kids the most, you give up on trying to stop her and take the meds.

---

Sean goes to greet you when you walk in the room but is cut short by seeing how miserable you look. "Woah my god!" He quickly puts his things down and makes his way over to guide you to the nearest table. He reaches in his chest compartment and pulls out a small package of tissues for you. "What made you come in!?" You try to convince him you had just been standing in the cold for a bit and needed to warm up, but he looks at you with a low-lid stare. "Sorry shortstack, but the cold doesn't make you sound like that." You clam up and try to find a different excuse, but he cuts you off. "How 'bout this. You go find an employee break room somewhere and I'll finish your shift for you." Your eyes widen and you tell him that you are fine and are totally capable of doing it. "You deserve a break," He smiles, "and some much needed rest." Then, he gets up to see you to the break room.

#Clownie honks #asks #Security Breach #Monty Gator #Roxanne Wolf #Glamrock Freddy #Glamrock Chica #Sona #Sean the Snake #FNaF OC #MyArt #FNaF #FNaF SB #//Sean does not have a room so there is no couch for Y/N to sleep on :o(#Headcanons

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readyplayerhobi · 2 years

Text

Because, I Love You | 01

; Jungkook x Older!Reader

; Genre: Fluff, slight angst, mentions of smut

; Word Count: 4.3k

; Warnings: Allusions to fatphobia, insecure thoughts from MC but Jungkook is just so sweet about it

; Synopsis: According to society, Jeon Jungkook should not be with you. He should be with a younger, hotter and thinner girl instead of wasting his time on you. It’s a good thing Jungkook doesn’t care what society thinks then.

; A/N: Got the random inspo for this and some of you said to write it, so I did...in a few hours haha. Who knows if this is good or not? I hope you enjoy a Jungkook who’s happy and in love, that’s all I wanted for this lol It was just something nice to write out...got the creative juices flowing!

; Masterlist

You had never imagined that you’d end up dating someone like Jeon Jungkook. There were too many things that weren’t in your favour when it came to someone like him, too many points in the negative column. Or so you’d thought.

You were older than him, by six years. Even though you’d both been well into adulthood when you’d started a relationship, it still got awkward reactions from people when they found out. Men were allowed to be older than women and it not be viewed as odd, but having the woman be older seemed to be too much for some people to accept.

He was exceptionally in shape, as in he went to the gym every other day and engaged in other physical activities on the other days. Jungkook loved to box or swim, and sometimes he’d even go running if he was bored. Meanwhile, you were pretty sure that you were allergic to the gym and liked to think of yourself politely as ‘curvy’. Your belly wasn’t flat or toned and your hips had a little more fat on them than people like, though you would always support the body positivity movement.

It wasn’t that you ate a lot, or were lazy or anything. You just didn’t see the need to personally limit your food or force yourself to go into a gym and do things you don’t like. Instead, you liked to take long walks and go exploring at your own pace whilst your home-cooked meals were easily one of Jungkook’s favourite things in the world.

If you spent too long looking at Instagram or any news sites, then you knew that by the laws of social media, Jungkook should not be with you. He was a ridiculously attractive, super fit young guy with a good job and a great personality. TikTok would throw a fit to see him with you, just like they did with that other couple where the girl wasn’t as ‘conventionally attractive’.

And yet, Jungkook was the one who’d pursued you.

He was the one who’d matched with you on the dating app, and he’d been the one to send the first message. You’d been convinced he was just doing it for a laugh, you’d had far too many incidents on datings apps where guys seemed to react to you in two ways; either wanting sex immediately or wanting to try and run you off the app for daring to not fit their idea of a beautiful woman.

The number of insults you’d experienced had meant that by the time Jungkook had sent a message, you’d become tired of the whole thing. You’d even ignored him at first, only responding when he’d sent a sad face emoji. To this day, you don’t understand how he’d manage to get you in his results as he was below the age range you’d specified, but he had and he’d been determined.

You weren’t the best texter, so the conversation had been a little stilted as you’d tried to suss him out. Was he just looking for a quick lay, thinking that you’d be desperate? Or was he wanting the prestige of banging an older woman? Was he one of those guys who had a weird kink about women on the heavier side? Or was he one of the guys who felt the need to shame you about your weight and existence?

Although you ate healthily and did your frequent walks, people often assumed things about you. And as much as you hated to admit it now, Jungkook had looked exactly like the kind of guy who would send those mean messages.

Young, insanely attractive and aware of it, tattooed and pierced. He was like a god comes to life, and some men like that had the matching god complex to go with it.

But Jeon Jungkook had not been like that. He’d happily talked to you about whatever you’d suggested and you’d realised he was a giant nerd underneath the hard exterior. After a month of casual texting, he hadn’t once said anything negative to you but he had discussed extensively why Fantastic Four deserved a redemption arc in the MCU and you’d become weirdly knowledgeable about boxing because of him.

You’d found out he had a dog, a Dobermann called Bam who had an undocked tail and floppy ears that hadn’t been clipped. When you’d noted that, he’d told you that he’d looked it up and had cried when he’d found out what happened to dogs to get that look.

This led to the other thing about Jungkook, he was sentimental as fuck. Despite being six years younger than you, he seemed to have such a wise head on his shoulders at times and he always took things a little too seriously. You still remembered when he’d messaged you in distress, only for it to turn out that he’d accidentally killed a bumblebee.

“But they’re vital for the environment, and I killed it!” He’d lamented over the phone to you, his deep voice filled with genuine upset and regret. You’d consoled him, even if you’d been thoroughly amused, and had realised he was entirely serious when he’d sent you a photo of the tiny bee grave he’d sent later that day. He’d even made a little gravestone and everything.

It had been that moment, around a solid month and a half since you’d started talking, that you finally let your heart open up a little to him. Cautiously accepted that a man who gave a funeral for a bee probably wasn’t going to hurt you, at least not on purpose. Of course, you couldn’t predict the future but you’d decided to try.

He’d been subtly asking you for dates the whole time, casually dropping hints about a new movie coming out or a restaurant he’d heard that was good. You’d rebuffed him every time, the prospect of seeing him in person making panic flood your veins until you felt ill. Talking over text or the phone was fine, he couldn’t see you. People liked to talk to you, but dating was always a minefield.

Would it be easier for him to realise that your pictures weren’t lying about your body, or would he consider you uglier in person? You weren’t a make-up person, it always made your skin breakout and you’d get the worst headaches sometimes, so your profile only had one or two with make-up on. There were also plenty of photos of your whole body, as you refused to lie about yourself.

What they saw on your profile, was what they’d get.

But you’d finally relented and agreed to go to the movies with him to see the latest in an animated film series. It had been you to suggest it, as it was one of your favourite series ever, but then you’d felt stupid turning up to the theatre and realising there were loads of kids there. You hadn’t had much time to think about it though, as Jungkook had suddenly appeared in front of you with the same sweet smile in his photos.

He’d thought it was hilarious when you’d apologised, mumbling out that you hoped he didn’t think you thought of him as some kid just because he was younger. It had plagued your mind through the whole film that he’d take offence, or realise that you were older than he’d like. Even though you’d mentioned many times the age difference.

Yet he’d just been excited about the film when you’d come out of it, laughing at how you’d both been the only adults there without kids and the only people on a date. You’d gone for pizza afterwards, you shyly trying to hide your body from him as you got to properly take him in without the darkness of a cinema screen to cover for you. He had been just as astonishingly attractive in person with his biceps as large and muscular as his pictures.

Jungkook had been unbelievably polite though, not once letting his eyes linger somewhere and he’d even complimented you a few times. You’d narrowed your eyes at him, wondering whether he was lying given you hadn’t worn make-up just like you’d warned him and he’d laughed yet again. He had a sweet laugh, one that you imagined he’d probably been a little embarrassed by when he was younger because it was loud but it made you laugh just as much.

He’d been a gentleman at the end too, kissing your cheek shyly after he’d walked you to your car. Despite how well it had gone, you’d fully expected him to ghost you after seeing what you were like in person. It had happened before.

Instead, he’d messaged you almost as soon as he’d got home, completely disregarding the fact that he might come across as overeager. He’d complimented you again, thanked you for going on a date with him and let you know that he’d enjoyed himself. Not only that, but he’d asked you on another date.

And then another, and then another.

It had taken six dates before he asked you to be his girlfriend. You’d been shocked, even though the dates had been going well, and questioned if he wanted that. If he wanted to date someone like you. He’d given you an odd look then, his nose wrinkling in confusion.

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t?” That was all he’d said in response, the words simple and said clearly. Like he couldn’t understand why you’d think he wouldn’t want to date you. It had been mind-blowing for you to realise that he genuinely wanted you and all the negative thoughts you had about yourself were only in your head. To him, you were exactly what he was looking for and he wasn’t going to let the chance go.

So you’d shyly said yes, uncertain as to whether this was going to last long or if he’d get tired or bored and move onto a younger, prettier model.

That had been six years ago.

Now you were thirty-six years old to his thirty, but you had more similarities than differences. He was still unbelievably hot, he was even more attractive than he had been. Jeon Jungkook was one of those annoying men who got more beautiful as he aged. He was still more in shape than you and all those things that people frowned upon.

But you now shared the same last name as him, wore the ring he’d given you to propose with and the ring he’d given you on your wedding day proudly and carried his first child. Jungkook had never once made you feel bad about yourself or unattractive, if anything he’d always been relentless in his desire for you.

That had only increased since you’d gotten pregnant, your belly now swelling from the baby that grew inside you. You swore you were giving off some kind of pheromone or something because Jungkook had been hornier than ever over the last few months. And that was saying something because he’d always had a very healthy sexual appetite.

The first time you’d had sex had been two months after you’d started dating. Despite his assurances that he found you attractive, you’d been shy and hesitant. That had disappeared during the act itself when he’d practically devoured your pussy and left you a shivering wreck before giving you the best sex you’d ever had. Which was saying a lot, given it had been your first time with him.

But he’d just been so attentive and caring, and he’d known exactly how to use his mouth, his fingers and his dick. You’d felt like you were being worshipped with how he’d mouthed hot kisses all over your body, even the bits you disliked, and his hands wouldn’t stop roaming your body desperately. As much as you’d been turned on by him, he’d been equally turned on by you.

It hadn’t stopped either. The flames of passion had quieted down, becoming a mellow flame that was constant warmth and comfort instead of sparks and explosions. Sometimes the sex was quick, sometimes it was slow, sometimes it was filled with whispers of love and adoration and sometimes it was just growls and grunts.

He’d never made you feel uncomfortable though, always made it clear that he was turned on by you. That he loved you deeply, even through all your insecurities and self-doubt. He’d offered some of his own to you to try and level the field, noting how he felt a little insecure sometimes that he hadn’t achieved as much as you had or that he didn’t earn as much. That he felt you’d got your life together a lot better than him.

That he thought you’d have judged him as some kind of player from the start and ignored him. Or just thought he was some stupid young guy and refused to give him the time of day or find him childish. It had been a quiet revelation for you to realise that he’d been just as nervous and worried.

You would forever be thankful that Jungkook kept at it, that he’d pursued you and refused to back down from a challenge. That he’d helped you learn to love yourself and your life a little more, along with bringing so much joy and laughter. He sometimes did stupid things that had you staring at him in confusion, and sometimes he didn’t know the references you made.

But he made up for it in the way he threw himself into learning your hobbies and interests, helping you to garden and turn your yard into a paradise for plants. He’d read so many of the books that you had, just so you had someone to discuss the plots with and he patiently listened to you ramble on about horror films despite the fact he hated them.

In turn, you watched his romance films with him and didn’t tease him too much when he cried at them and you’d learnt all the facts about his favourite boxers, had even gone to a match with him. You’d supported him when he’d applied for his dream job in a career he wasn’t in, consoling him when he’d been denied and then celebrating when he’d gotten it.

Sure, you had arguments with him sometimes and you’d get a little grumpy with him, but you knew that at the end of the day, you were perfect for each other.

“Whatcha thinking ‘bout?” The man in question asks, sitting down lightly on the swinging bench he’d installed in the backyard last year. You’d both redone the whole yard, repainting the fence and creating a whole new wildflower section alongside adding a fully functioning pond with koi fish in it. He’d seen the bench in a DIY store and had bought it, with your agreement, before spending a whole afternoon assembling it with your help.

It hadn’t been any trouble to you, not when you got to watch your hot husband getting all sweaty whilst shirtless.

Looking over at him, you chew on your lips for a moment before shrugging lightly and smiling. You’re sitting cross-legged on the bench, unbelievably comfy thanks to the cushions he’d added. Jungkook thought one of the most important principles in life was being comfortable, which meant your home was full of cushions and soft things.

“You, me, us. I dunno, I just…I saw this thing earlier about a couple where the guy was super hot but the girl was…how do I say it nicely…not considered attractive enough for him? They get so many nasty comments because people can’t comprehend that a handsome man can like a woman that people don’t think is attractive.” Trailing off, you let a hand rest on your pregnant belly before reaching out and taking his hand. He instantly links your fingers together, squeezing gently.

There’s a wrinkle between his brows, indicating his internal confusion. Jungkook had always had such strong eyebrows that you’ve always found hot. There’s not much about him you don’t find hot, from the way he tongues his cheek when he’s irritated or the tattoos on his arms shift as the muscles beneath work. And that’s not even talking about the weird fetish you have for his hands.

Men liked butts and boobs, but you’d gone a little feral more than once because of his hands and thighs.

“How…how does that relate to us?” The innocence with which he asks makes your heart clench with so much love for him. Jungkook’s always been such a simple man, despite how complicated he looked. He knew what he liked and what he loved, and he didn’t care what others thought about that. It’d taken you a while for you to realise that, but it was something you’d grown to cherish about him.

Smiling, you lift his hand and rest it against your heart.

“You’re adorable, have I told you that? It’s relevant because you’ve always been god hot and I’ve just been…me. You know if we were on social media then people would be like ‘what the fuck is going on here?’.” His cheery mood disappears and he scowls, lips pursing out in that cute pout he always does and making his lip ring push out even further.

“That’s stupid, don’t say that. You’re hot.” Grinning, you shuffle over before leaning into him, curling yourself happily into his side. He lets go of your hand and takes the opportunity to wrap his arm around you, cuddling you while letting his fingertips brush the sides of your swollen stomach. It’s just light enough to be ticklish and you shiver.

“I don’t think anyone except you has ever called me that, but it’s okay. As long as you think it. You know people always have some awful opinions, and there’s probably some of our friends who had those thoughts when we first started dating. I know for a fact that Jimin teased you about having a cougar as a girlfriend.” Jungkook grunts, obviously still grumpy about how you’ve put yourself down.

“Jimin was just jealous. Still is. I was twenty-four when I met the love of my life whereas he’s now thirty-two and still hasn’t found his.” You swat his stomach lightly, tutting at him.

“Don’t say that, that’s mean. Plus, I was only two years older than him when we met.” He hums, the sound vibrating through his chest to your cheek and you sigh gently, wriggling to get a better position. You’re excited to finally be a mom, it had taken two years of trying and a year of IVF to finally get pregnant, but god, being pregnant was not as fun as it was made out to be.

“Anway, it doesn’t matter. I don’t care what other people think. And I’m not blind or oblivious, I do notice it. I just don’t care. I thought you were pretty in your pictures and I liked how you’d got your personality across, so I went for it. You know me, if I want something then I get it. It was hard to keep my hands off you on our first date, I really wanted to see you naked but I could tell you were not down for that.” Lifting your head, you raise your brows at him in shock. He’d never mentioned this before.

“We saw a kids' film! With kids in the audience!”

“Okay, I just need to point out that you do remember I was a young, horny man. You know how much I love sex, and how much I love your body. I had a very good orgasm that night with my hand.” There’s a tingle that runs through you as he says that, and you’re pleased that it’s not shyness from his blunt words but a thread of desire.

Why has he never told you this? You don’t realise you’ve said that out loud till he responds.

“Because I didn’t want to come across as some idiot young guy that just thinks with his dick. I was on a date with this super sexy older woman who had her shit together, no way was I ruining that.” Smiling, you bite your lip and hug him a little tighter as pleasure bubbles through you.

“You never fail to surprise me, you know that?”

“Good, keeps our relationship interesting. And in answer to your unsaid question…I’m with you instead of whatever imaginary woman you’ve imagined in your head for me because I want to be. Because, I love you. You’re it, and I knew that the first time I heard your voice on the phone. Heard you say hello and thought ‘yep, that’s it, that’s the woman I’m gonna marry’.” That makes you snort with laughter, using his chest to push yourself up and give him a disbelieving look.

“I know you’re a sappy romantic but you’re not that much of a romantic. You didn’t even say that in your wedding speech, and you were a sobbing mess in that.” You tease lightly, grinning at his mock affronted look.

“Excuse me, I’m very romantic. I’m so romantic that if you open the dictionary and look up romantic, there’s a picture of my face. Which is why I never mentioned it. That fact is for me and you only, other people can’t know. Maybe Mochi can when they’re older to hear it.” At that, he shifts until he can rest the whole palm of his hand against your stomach.

There’s a pause, the heat of his hand burning through your clothes before you feel the tell-tale flutter and Jungkook grins with simultaneous pride and amusement. The baby loves hearing Jungkook, and somehow always knows when their father is touching your belly. Neither of you knew what gender you were having, and neither of you cared as long as the baby was healthy. And Mochi was the nickname that Jimin had used and it had stuck.

Ignoring all that, you reach up and tilt his head towards you and simply look over his face. This close, you get to see all the pores of his skin and even the freckles that are too light to see from far away. The subtle shade alongside his jaw and mouth as his evening stubble starts to grow in, something he’ll soon be shaving off as he hates having hair there.

But your favourite thing about Jungkook, physically at least, is his wide eyes that portray every emotion he feels. They’d been your favourite aspect of him in his pictures when he’d first matched with you, and six years later they remain your favourite thing. You hope your baby gets his starry eyes.

“I love you.” You say simply, feeling your stomach bubble with happiness and not Mochi kicking as his eyes give away his smile before his mouth does. They do this adorable thing where the skin beneath his eyes thickens, creating an adorable eye smile before he does it with his mouth. That’s when you know he’s really happy.

“I love you, too. You don’t think about this stuff often, right? Cos I love you as you, and I always have. No matter what you looked like, or what you thought you looked like. And if you’re worrying over this then I haven’t done my job right.” He sounds so serious and concerned, his brow creasing once more as he dips his head to keep your eyes in sight.

Age is looking good on him, and you fear him in twenty years. He’s going to be movie star hot, and he’s all yours.

Trailing your fingers over his lower lip and playing with his lip ring, a familiar motion to you both by now, you give him a soft smile.

“I swear, I don’t. It was just that story I read. I did when we first got together but…you’ve shown me over the years so…not anymore. I trust you.”

“Good, because I don’t have any regrets. Best decision I made to message you, and it was obviously the same for you.” Laughing, you tickle his sides as he lets out breathy giggles and tries to avoid you without jostling you too much.

As you play with him, enjoying the intimate moment of quiet and happiness with your husband, you feel your baby kick excitedly. Pausing, you look at Jungkook with a raised brow before taking his hand and resting it on your stomach.

“You’ve got Mochi all excited now, so now you need to calm them down or mommy’s not gonna get much sleep. And then you’ll probably regret messaging me when I’m being grumpy.” That makes Jungkook grin, the expression mischievous on his face and your heart thumps hard with love for this beautiful, kind and funny man who loves you so deeply despite what society says.

Leaning forward, he keeps an eye on yours as he presses a kiss to your stomach before whispering.

“Remember that, Mochi, for when you’re born. Nothing is worse than a grumpy mommy, so please be nice to daddy and calm down.”

“Hey! You weren’t supposed to agree with me.” You whine, pouting in an exaggerated manner that makes him laugh.

“Well, sweetheart, what is it you always say to me? A happy wife is a happy life, and a happy wife is always right?”

“Well, I’m clearly wrong in this case so you should say so!”

“You also say I shouldn’t tell lies, and we shouldn’t be setting a bad example for Mochi.”

“Jeon Jungkook!”

#armiesnet #networkbangtan #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #bts fluff #bts angst #bts smut #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader

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waterfallofspace · 1 year

Text

And Revenge Comes In More.

(Sequel to ‘Entertainment Comes In Many Forms’)

The one in which G/ojo learns that N/anami is a lot more revenge driven then he had planned on. And enjoys every second of it~. Feat. Allergic/Induced G/ojo and snz!fucker slightly sadistic N/anami. Also known as: G/ojo tormented N/anami with his cold, so now N/anami is gonna torment him with some allergens. Technically this is a ‘sequel’ to my previous fic, but you don’t have to read that one to understand this! Mostly just context on why N/anami wants revenge. But the sneeze fun can be appreciated with or without reading it! (at least I hope haha~~) Also, I’m not the most comfortable (skill or knowledge wise) in writing deeply smutty things yet, so this miiiight be a bit of a tease as I didn’t write any actual full on stuff happening, so consider this a warning for that I guess!! I might do a third of this little series at some point where it goes all the way, but I have no plans just yet, still not sure of that kind of writing style for myself! Aaaaaaand yes, this is another fic, I have a problem, but I guess worst case no one sees it and I got to have fun writing something I enjoy, so hey, hope y’all don’t mind!! J/JK brainrot is just real and I can’t… I can’t get this out of my head…. hahaha~~ To anyone who bothers to read this, thank you! And I hope you enjoy~~ ((References to swearing, and snz!fucker play (slightly-over-the-borderline smut), in case anyone doesn’t like those)) Characters: G/ojo, N/anami, and N/anami’s sadistic side mixing with a snz!kink. Word count: 3.2k

~~~~~~~ Gojo knows from the second he walks into the apartment, he’s in deeper trouble than he’d thought. See, about two weeks ago he’d tormented teased his dear boyfriend Nanami with a cold he’d caught. Nanami had told him about a certain… interest… of his. Namely, sneezing. And see, Gojo had a cold… so how could he not use this to his advantage? However, this was…. during a meeting… and Nanami, ever the stickler for things like “privacy” and “decency” was not the biggest fan of this little encounter. ‘Much as he may have enjoyed himself once we were alone’. Because of this, a week ago (after recovering from his illness) Gojo had offered a bit of retribution. His deal was an inducing session. No holds barred, anything goes, Nanami gets to induce him in any way he desires for the whole night, and… whatever that may lead to… will come with the territory. Gojo had assumed that Nanami would get a bit of sneezy fun, and then they’d move on. What Gojo hadn’t planned on was Nanami asking for a week to ‘prepare’. Hence, when he walks into the apartment and sees the tray of items sitting on their coffee table, draped in a sheet, he starts to realize that maybe he’s signed up for more than he bargained for. But upon seeing the look in Nanami’s eyes as he gestures for Gojo to sit on the couch, Gojo decides that he’s completely down for whatever may follow. “Blindfold off.” Gojo smirks, this was one part he did see coming, especially since the only light currently on in the apartment was in the hallway. Nanami is well aware of how photic Gojo is. ‘Wasn’t even aware that sneezing from bright lights was called photic until I met him.’ he muses to himself, delicately removing the blindfold, and placing it in Nanami’s outstretched hand. Sure enough, the hall light is nowhere near bright enough to invoke a reaction. “Whenever you’re ready, Nanami dear.” Smug grin on his face, Gojo leans back, one leg crosses over the other, the picture of relaxation. All of this changes the second a smirk forms on Nanami’s face. ‘Well that look is deeply unsettling’ Gojo thinks, allowing his confidence to slip just a little. Nanami reaches under the sheet, careful to keep the rest hidden, and pulls out his first object, taking a seat on a chair next to the couch. “A flashlight? Starting pretty basic, aren’t we Nanami? If I’m honest, I expected more from you. With a week to prepare, bright light is what you came up with?” It’s a bluff and they both know it, Gojo’s well aware that bright light is only what they’re starting with, and that Nanami must be saving the best for last. “Close your eyes. You open them when I tell you to.” “Oh~ Bossy, aren’t we~? Power gone to your head, Nanami?” Despite this, Gojo does as he’s told. While obedience isn’t something he’s known for, he did offer compliance, ‘though I never specified it would come without teasing~’ he allows, making sure to paint another shit-eating grin on his face. Gojo doesn’t need to see Nanami to know his eyes are glued to him, he can feel the lustful gaze burning into his skin. “Open your eyes now.” Gojo complies once more, surprise flooding his face as he feels something soft brush the tip of his nose. He barely has time to get his wrist in front of his nose before the sneezes burst out. “hept’ISHH’shiew-! ihh’kTSH’ue-! hAH’ASHH’iew-! hh’KTishhh’yuu-!” Sniffling pathetically against his wrist, Gojo manages to lock his eyes onto the feather Nanami is twirling in his fingers, the flashlight sitting on the tray once more. Nanami meets his eyes, a mischief evident in them, suggesting this was always his plan. “Well well well, bit of a trickster today, I see. Proud of ourselves, aren’t we?” “Bless you.” “Why thank you. Still polite as ever. Some things never change. Shall I expect blessings all night, then?” “I guess you’ll have to wait and see.” Gojo lets the smirk work its way over his face once more, lowering his wrist with one last snfff- not quite wet yet, but if this first fit was anything to go by, they were certainly going to get there. “Feathers. Not exactly groundbreaking stuff. I do have quite the sensitive nose, but I’m not allergic, they’ll tickle just as much as anything soft would.” Nanami grins, a hand brushing his hair back. A gesture that to most, would seem quite common. But Gojo is not most. He recognizes the action for what it is; an act of pride in himself and his methods. A hint of worry seeps back into Gojo’s mind, ‘Just a feather alone wouldn’t bring this kind of confidence. Not to someone like Nanami. He wouldn’t feel this satisfied with just a mild sensitivity reaction.’ Sniffling again, Gojo notices, quite suddenly, that the tickle is still there. A slight buzzing at the back of his nose. ‘No, this is more than just a sensitivity, otherwise it would have stopped once I finished sneezing.’ “hhAH! Ahhh… What diihhhd… you do to it?” “You see,” Nanami starts, letting himself slip off the chair, and slide onto the couch next to Gojo. “It’s not just a feather. It’s a feather from our feather duster. And, well, it just so happens I had a bit of cleaning to do earlier.” “Hehhh…. ehh! hIH’kTSH’oo-! KISHH-ishh’oo-! hahh’DTSH’yuu-! I should have gueehhh… g- guessssed- hehh…. hEH’DT-! guhhh… lost it.” “Bless you.” “I cahhhn’t… Nanami… I… hehh… hIH! gotta… g-hahh gotta sneeze…!” Gojo’s eyes are fluttering shut, a single tear running down his cheek as he hitches wildly, head tilting back. Nanami smirks, letting Gojo’s hand grab his and pull the feather up to his face. They both pause as he leaves it just out of reach of his nose, well aware of the unstated rule. ‘This is your turn, so unless you allow me, I can’t do it myself.’ Thankfully for Gojo, this is only act one of the revenge, and the torture isn’t meant to start just yet. Nanami moves the feather back to Gojo’s nose, gently tracing around one nostril, then the other, the light touch more than enough to send him over the edge. “Th- thankyou- hEH! hH’ESHH’oo-! hept’kiSHH’ieww-! mMMpfsshh’oo-!” “Bless you.” Just as he goes to open his eyes, Gojo finds himself squinting in the light, ducking back into his hands with another fit, this time the softer, ticklish type that he gets from photic fits. “ishh-! tishh’oo-! hh’ishh’shiew-! pshh’oo-! kshhh’iew-! hept’ktshh’ooo-! hEP’shhh-! Nngt-! hh’dNGt-! Nxxgt-!” Fingers lightly pinch his nose as Gojo stifles the last few, a hint of mischief in his voice as he manages to stop the onslaught. Nanami leans back from where he had hit the light switch, a smirk dancing on his face, mischief matching Gojo’s in his own eyes. ‘God, he looks good like this.’ “I’ll admit, you got me with that one. Wasn’t expecting it in the slightest.” “That was the idea, yes. Bless you again, but don’t think you won’t pay for those stifles.” “Oh~?” There’s a light sing-song tone in Gojo’s voice as he lets his eyes trace down Nanami’s body. The tremble in his knees doesn’t go unnoticed, and neither does the hunger in his eyes when Gojo’s beautiful, albeit watery, blues meet them once more. Try as he might, Nanami was never able to hide his true intentions from Gojo. He’s always been able to read him like a book. ‘He’s holding out much better than I had thought, but there’s a slight shiver in his voice whenever he speaks. Guess even the most proper of us can’t hide every physical reaction.’ Nanami reaches over and wipes away a stray tear that had broken free from the ocean in Gojo’s eyes, ‘photic tickles do always come with watery eyes’ getting a warm smile in return. As much as he hates to admit it, Nanami was always captivated by the shimmering blue orbs, and the beauty that the glistening wetness brought to them was almost inhumane. Gojo uncrosses his legs, allowing them to slip further onto the couch as he lays back, giving Nanami the perfect position to slide in on top of him, hovering just above his hips, perched on his knees. Now angled over him, Nanami also has the perfect position to further torment Gojo’s nose. Reaching back under the sheet, Nanami pulls it off entirely, the smirk reforming once more as Gojo’s eyes go wide. A single flower of lavender sits on the tray, under a glass bowl. Gojo twitches even just looking at it, a knuckle raising to rub at his already itchy nose. As if just the sight of the blossom was enough to light the fire burning in his sinuses. “I know I said anything you want, but I wasn’t expecti-” “What, you thought I wasn’t going to use one of your most desperate allergens? I’m not a novice at this, Gojo.” “My sincerest apologies, Nanami. You’re qu- heH! quite right, I shouldn’t have underestimated you. Now are wehhehh… gonna get on with it?” Simply lifting the bowl off it had spread the scent throughout the living room, Gojo’s nose responding in kind. A light snfff- escapes, a mistake, if the way his eyes flutter is any indication. Nanami lifts the blossom gently, Gojo leaning back until his head was on the pillow at the end of the couch, hands tucked at his sides, already bracing against the tickle he knew was coming. Kneeling over him, Nanami allows his hips to gently brush Gojo’s, not missing the gasp in his breath, or the lust filling his eyes. “hihh’KTSH’oo-! hePT’shiew-! nnGXt-!” “Bless you. Stifling without your hands, impressive, but doesn’t earn you any points today.” “Worth a shot~. Are you plahhhhning to start the inducing any time s- hehhh! soon? My nose is alreahhhhhdy starting to ti… to tiihhhhckle! hEH’ISHH’yuu-! hH’MMFSH’oo-! dnXT’shoo-!” There’s no response from Nanami, ‘Unless you count the way his whole body is practically trembling~. Or the chewing on his lip, ya know, I’m not even sure he realizes he’s doing that!’ but one isn’t needed. Instead, Nanami starts tracing the lavender around the base of Gojo’s chin, dragging it up his jawline, right up to the bridge of his nose. Gojo, for his part, starts hitching the second it touches his skin, as if the pollen is soaking through into his nose via osmosis. His eyes snap shut, the tickle swelling- “Hehh… ahh! Ehhh… hihh-hEH! hEPT-” Just to have it crushed by Nanami’s firm grasp on his nose, pinching it shut. Gojo lets out a whine, nose practically trembling beneath the grasp. They pause like that for a second, Gojo managing to pry his eyes open long enough to see the desperate arousal painted clearly over Nanami’s face, before they crash shut again with another wave of hitching. Finally, the tickle dies down, and Gojo’s breathing evens out. “I thought the point was to make me sneeze, not stop me from sneezing?” “That is certainly a part of it, yes. But you were cruel, doing… that… in public, in a meeting no less, so this? This is going to be just as cruel.” “I never knew you had such a sadistic side, dear. I have to admit-” Gojo pauses, letting his eyes meet Nanami’s, lust burning through his own just as fierce as his boyfriends. “-It looks stunning on you.” Their mouths meet, Nanami gently biting Gojo’s lower lip, eliciting a moan in response, before it turns into a shaky inhale. Taking this cue, Nanami continues running the lavender down Gojo’s nose, right around the edge, tracing each pink and twitchy nostril. “hAHhh- I… I have…. I’mgonna… hehh!” This time, instead of stopping the sneezes, Nanami lets the lavender rest just under Gojo’s nose, the blossoms gently touching the tip, before letting it slide all the way in. The reaction is instant, and he’s careful to keep the blossom in during the fit, prompting Gojo’s hands to grab Nanami’s hips to brace himself. “ISHH’oo-! hehh’TISHH’ooo-! hEPT’DTSHH’yuu-! eHKSHH’shiew-! nN’GSHH’uee-! hAHH… hehh! neH’KTSHU’yuu-! haAH’GNSHH’oo-!” Gojo manages to meet Nanami’s eyes through his watery gaze, noticing the way Nanami’s legs tremble, hips pressing against his, a moan forming in his own throat as one breaks free from the other man. Deciding to try to put on a bit of a show, Gojo attempts to speak through them, a slight flush filling Nanami’s face at the attempt. In response, Nanami’s hands twitch, moving the lavender still inside Gojo’s nose around, relighting the tickle with a passion. “Oh god Nanahhhmihhh- mM’PSHH’oo-! hEH’MFFSSHH’yuu-! It ti- ticklessobad… nnH’ZSHH’oo-! ZESHH’shiew-! I can’t stop… Ijustgotta- hePT’KESHH’yuu-! hhAH’ASHH’ieww-!” Tears are fully running down his face by the end, his eyes watering so much he can barely see. Nanami gently places his lips on Gojo’s forehead, pulling the (now soaked) lavender out as the sneezing finally starts to taper off. He softly wipes the tears away, meeting Gojo’s bleary look with a deeply lustful one of his own. “Yo- heH’ISHH’shiew-! Ishh’oo-tishh’oo-! You see- hiHH! holdonnotdone…. hAH’ESHH’yuu-! ‘Scuse me! You seem to be enjoying the show.” There’s a teasing tone in his voice, but the soft blush settling over his cheeks has nothing to do with arousal. Instead, it blooms in response to the soft touch Nanami’s hands are giving him, brushing his hair out of his eyes, wiping the tears from his cheeks. A softness that Nanami is always capable of, but only Gojo ever truly gets to see. The blush spreading across Nanami, however, has everything to do with arousal. A feeling that it seems, he’s reached his limit on containing. Letting his hips fully rest against Gojo’s, he leans in, teeth meeting Gojo’s ear. Their breath catches at the same time, Nanami’s releasing in a moan against the flushed skin of Gojo’s neck, while Gojo releases his in the form of- “hH’hEPTShhh’ooo-! nGT-! hh’DTSH-! kNXT’shoo-! Ohgod- ashh’oo-! tishh’oo-ishh’iew-hAH’ZSHH’yuu-! Hehh…!” “B-bless you.” Nanami offers in the pause, he can only keep the whimper out of his voice for so long it seems. ‘It’s honestly impressive he held out this long’. In the pause, Nanami leans back up, mischief flooding his eyes as he waits for Gojo to start hitching in earnest, then pinches his nose shut right as the fit starts again. A desperate look is all Gojo can get in before the tickle takes over completely. “Nahhhnami whatareyou- nNGT-! DNNT-! GNXXT-! P- please I haahhhh-! hH’nGXT-! Knntt’shoo-! ehh’DXGT’shoo-! Nanami it- hAH’gehDNTT’shoo-! It’s just gonna- heH’XGT-! DTNNGT-! Nxxgt’shoo-! Gonna keep going if you don’t let me…. Letme…. Ihaveto… heH! hh’NXGT’shoo-!” Despite the pleading, and the desperately itchy look Gojo’s face has twisted itself into, they both know that if he actually wanted to, he could easily pry Nanami’s fingers off. However, Gojo keeps his hands pinned under his legs, not even attempting to raise them. “Bless you. Use your words, Gojo. You’ve certainly never had a problem using them before.” “hEH! Nanami I have- ohgodnotagain hH’NXGT-! dgxnnt’shoo-! ktnXGT’shoo-! I have to sneeze-! nN’GTkk’shoo-!” “Bless you love. You seem to be doing just that. What is it exactly you’re asking for?” Gojo lets his mouth hang slightly open, though at this point, it’s not exactly a choice, he’s still human after all, he needs air. But the way he lets his tongue brush against his lips is entirely for the show. “Please let me release the sneehhh-! Sneezes.” “Clear and concise. See, I knew you had it in you. You have permission.” With that, Nanami removes his fingers, and waits- And waits…? “hEH-! Ahhh… hihhIH…. hEPT-!guhhhh…. Hehhh…” Nanami feels his mouth run dry as Gojo’s breath catches, over and over, his pink nose twitching, not unlike a bunny. “nAhnami- god it… it tickles so… I can’t…. I just… hehh-! hAH! Guhhh… hehhh…huH-! HEPT-! Fucking hell… I just…” Normally he’d receive a punishment for the swearing, but given the current situation, Nanami is feeling forgiving. Gojo’s entire body is starting to tremble with the desperation of his nose. Nanami bites his lip harder, body trembling for a whole different reason. Both of their eyes are glossed over, yet again, for different reasons. Running a hand through Gojo’s hair again, the moan coming from the blue-eyed-beauty only half from the tickle still tormenting him, Nanami leans forward once more, bringing his warm lips to Gojo’s flushed skin. His breath is hot on Gojo’s neck, his teeth sinking into the sensitive skin. A moan falls from Gojo’s mouth as Nanami lets his lips touch his ear. “Nahhnami… I… Ihaveto- hehh! to sneehhhh- sneeze-!” The response that creeps out from Nanami’s mouth is as much a moan as a command. “Beg me for it, Satoru.” A playful smirk briefly flashes across Gojo’s face, before he lets his eyes flutter closed once more. He allows his breath to hitch for a minute, savouring the way Nanami’s hips grind against him, before forcing his voice back out, not even needing to exaggerate the whining tone. “P- pleaahhh… please… hehhh! hAHH!… please Kento, let me sneeze~! I… I need to so-heHH! so bad….” With that, Nanami leans in, letting their lips meet, hungry and trembling. Gojo gasps against the feeling, pulling back to suck in a deep breath, before pulling Nanami back into it with just as much hunger. They stay like that for a moment, caught in a battle of wills and tongues, before finally, Nanami lets his nose brush against Gojo’s. Shivers shoot down both of their spines, moans spilling out of them in harmony as Gojo rears his head back, having only enough time to duck his head into Nanami’s chest before the long-denied sneezes take their revenge. “Th-thankyou- hAH’heTscH’oo-! hH’ZSCHH’yuu-! Hehh… hah’ketCHH’ooo-! mMpSHH’oo-! nN’KTSHH’yuu-! hePT’ISHH’iew-! mMFFSHH’iew-! hAH’RASHH’uue-! Oh that one was looudd-heH’KSHH’ooo-!” With a brief break, Gojo gasps, letting some air fill his lungs again as the tickle fills his nose. Nanami reaches over to the table, grabbing a handful of tissues, and pressing them to Gojo’s nose as the next wave of sneezes overtakes him. “iSHh’oo-! heH’tiSH’oo-! ASHH’iew-! nN’hetCH’yuu-! mmSHH’oo-! MMPSHH’oo-! heH’mPFShh’iew-!” “Bless you, Satoru. Blow, while you can.” Gojo does he’s told, letting a harsh blow out, pausing for a few sneezes to slip through- “hEH’ktSHH’oo-! ashh’ieww-! hH’ESHH’oo-!” “Bless you. Again.” He follows the command willingly yet again, knowing he couldn’t resist if he wanted to. After another blow, Nanami switches out the tissues for clean ones, gently cleaning up Gojo’s nose. The feather-light touch of his fingers through the tissues is enough to prompt another small fit from Gojo, which he catches, planting a light kiss on his forehead. “Ishh’oo-! Tishh’oo-! heH’ketshh’iew-! hAH’ashHH’iew-! ishh-tishh’oo-heH’ISHH’yuu-!” “Bless you, love.” “Thank you.” Nanami sits back, letting Gojo sit up fully. Both men are panting, a fierce hunger still burning in their eyes. Gojo lets his hand slide around Nanami’s hips, pulling him in for another deep kiss, this time he nibbles on Nanami’s lip, a light chuckle breaking the kiss at the way Nanami whimpers. “Shall we finish this in the bedroom, Nanami~?” There’s no answer. There doesn’t need to be. The way he grips Gojo’s arm is answer enough, pulling him up off the couch. They both take a pause to breathe, before they start laughing like teenagers again, a contest to see who can get to the bedroom faster is initiated without words. They never did need words, they have something far deeper. Something that nothing on heaven or earth could ever take away from them. Something true to their very souls.

#waterfallwrites #this was living in my soul and i needed it OUT #even if no one else likes it i had a FUN time writing it so im happy #plus i couldnt leave it like i did last time without tormenting him a bit more #again with this 'g/ojo is begging for it' bullshit but i mean- look at him #j/jk #g/ojo my beLOVED #snz #snzkink #snzfic #forgive me for posting so much lmao

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russellsppttemplates · 2 years

Text

You really don't see it do you? (Lewis Hamilton)

Note: english is not my first language, I have never written something that was requested by somebody else so I suddenly feel like I can't write, also first time doing anything remotely angsty (maybe it's not even that and I have executed it poorly) so pls bear with

As always, any specific knowledge here is what I know and have researched a bit, apologies if it is incorrect

Feedback is appreciated 🤍 and although I'm not taking requests per se, if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so!

Tw: curse words, mentions of allergic reaction and needles

In the Mercedes hospitality, the team and guests were having lunch, trays of food displayed beautifully around a big table as everyone grabbed what they wanted in order to stay fueled for the Qualy afternoon ahead, "Y/N, you have to try these! They're some sort of pastry, you have to try it, they're to die for", Angela said, a tong in hand as you placed your plate forward so she could place the pastry on it. "So Lewis, how are we feeling for today?", you asked, already sat at the table, everyone digging into the food on their plates, "I feel confident we can get in the top 5, the car seemed good yesterday", he said, "that's good, I can't wait to see you! It's been awhile since my last GP", you smiles slightly, things around you turning slightly wobbly, your chest heaving as it got harder and harder to breathe in and out. Lewis noticed it right away, "You okay, Y/N?", earning a shake from your head once you couldn't get your words out, "Angela, grab my bag over there", he said pointing to the back pack on the sofa, "It's okay, I've got your meds here", he said comforting you. As Angela got him his wallet, he pulled out the adrenaline pen you took when this was happening, "There we go, sorry darling", he said, lifting your midi skirt a little bit upwards so he could pin the needle on your skin and inject the liquid in your body. A few minutes passed as you laid against Lewis' chest, eyes closed as you got back to your normal state, breathing back to normal and colour back to your face, "I'm fine, I'm fine, thanks Lew", you said, now appreciating his nagging when he insisted that he was present in the demonstration of how to use your new pen and that he should have one just in case. "Did that have soybeans in it? Because she's allergic to that", Lewis asked, "It's a vegetable pastry, so probably, we'll have to check with the caterer", someone said, "I'm sorry, I didn't know we had people with food allergies today, we're usually careful about it", one of the managers apologised to you. "It's fine, don't worry. I'm good already", you said accepting a glass of a sugary drink as you tried to reassure everyone in the room whose eyes suddenly were on you. After everyone resumed to their meals, you felt okay sitting on your own chair, "You weren't kidding when you said these were to die for", you joked looking at Angela, trying to rid her face of the frown she had, "I'm okay, Angela, there's no way you'd know. Now, please, smile again, will you?", you said holding out your hand so she could grab it, "I'm never recommending food again", she said, letting out a nervous chuckle, "I think Y/N has broken Angela, I've never seen her so quiet", you heard Toto jokingly say. "I'm so sorry Y/N, I really am", she apologised profusely, "I'm fine, honestly! This happens every now and again, it's okay", you said as they resumed their meal. So your best friend carried an epi pen for you, no big deal right? Your heart didn't feel the same, as you felt his worried look on you, checking how you were and making you fall in love with him a little bit more.

"You're sure you're feeling okay? You can go to my room and rest", Lewis said as he fastened his race suit, "I'm fine Lew, I'll sit here if it makes you feel better", you reassured, "yeah, good idea, you sit here", he said as he grabbed a chair for you so you could still watch the screens and have your headphones in. Things were going well for Lewis, qualifying in 4th place and in general feeling hopeful, "Great guys, that was great! I think tomorrow we have a food shot at podium", Lewis heavy breathing was heard through the radio, "thanks guys, thanks team. Also, can anyone tell me how Y/N is?", he asked. One of the engineers flipped you channel in so he could hear you, "I'm fine, already feeling better. I just ate some biscuits too", you told him as everyone smiled at his concern for you, knowing fully well where it all came from.

You were sitting in Lewis' living room, a healthy roast split between the two plates on the coffee table, Roscoe snoozing by your feet and a documentary playing on TV. This was your usual Thursday plan when you both could make it, being a tradition that started at least 4 years ago. "Did I tell you we're doing this showcase for Mercedes on the weekend? It's going to be absolutely insane, they have all these cars to show and interviews too!", Lewis said excitedly, sitting next to you on the sofa and grabbing his plate. "Does it take up the whole weekend?", you asked, wondering wether he had forgotten your new office's launch. You had recently taken a huge step career wise, managing to become and independent worker and essentially your own boss, and the new place you were opening on Friday was having a little celebration with a few friends, family and clients as well as some local press. "I think so, I fly early Friday morning and get back on Sunday night, since we have no race it's easier", Lewis answered.

"So you're not coming to the office launch?", you asked, disappointment clear in your voice as you looked at the TV. You had planned it accordingly to his schedule too so he could attend as well, wanting to have someone you felt so dearly for in this important milestone.

"Ah, shoot. I forgot about it", he said, "I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you, I promise", and you don't know wether it was the insane amount of pressure you were in to succeed on your own or the whole planning, but you burst "do you know how much that meant to me? That you said you were able to come and support me? And you're not gonna be there? I know things get crazy, but you could have told me...". You and Lewis had always been honest with eachother, never letting anything brood over too much and tackling any issues together, talking about them as they came up, and not only did it hurt you because he didn't tell you, but also because he was not going to be there... "Y/N, I'm sorry, I really am. Things at Mercedes are going well now, we can't disappoint sponsors and besides I can pop back in on Monday, I'm sure you'll have a full house on Friday anyway!", he reasoned despite your side, "I go to every race I can, even the ones on the other part of the world and you can't make this arrangement? Don't even bother coming then". And as soon as the words left your mouth, you regretted every single one of them, you were being unfair to him, and mostly, mean without any reason other than wanting him with you. He had his things to do, job demands that couldn't wait and you had always respected them, "Is that how you feel? I have been here day in day out since you started this, every study session, every work proposal, during the signings and this is it? Just because I'm missing one thing? It's not like it's that important", Lewis said, touching a particular subject you both knew too well not to touch. And he knew he had messed up too, knowing how much it meant to you and how other people had failed to support you the way you deserved. "I think this is going too far so I'm going to head home, thanks for dinner", you said getting up and petting Roscoe, heading for the door, a pang on your chest from not hearing a certain voice call your name.

6 am. Lewis and Angela were up and running already, trying to sweat his frustration off, "What's going on wirh you today? Even this is early for us", Angela said trying to catch her breath as the stopped by a park bench, "something you want to share?". Lewis sighed, taking his earbud out, "yesterday I was with Y/N, and I told her about the weekend and she reminded me of her opening and, I don't even know how, but I was so angry with myself when she said that she wanted me there that I just burst out and said awful awful things to her", he said. Angela's jaw could have dropped, she had always known Lewis to be calm and collected, especially when it came to you, "when are you going to tell her? How you truly feel? Have you wondered that maybe you reacted like that because of your feelings for her?", she reasoned. It was no secret to Angela that he had profound feelings for you, and until now he seemed to keep them at bay, "I think it's time you talk to her about it, and apologise to her. She's such a sweet woman and you and I both know she doesn't deserve that", prompting Lewis to think long and hard about how he would take things from then on.

Even though you told Lewis to not bother coming to your opening, you were missing him. Your nerves were needing a pep talk from Lewis saying everything was going to go alright, that there was probably food to feed a whole army and that it all looked lovely, but he wasn't here, making you confirm the idea that your reaction had been a little bit too much. He had never failed you, standing in the crowd when you got your qualifications, holding you when you got negative answers job applications and cheering you on no matter what you did. As you let out a long sigh, you heard your name being called, "Y/N, they're ready for you, it's go time!", your secretary called. Putting on your best face, you remembered your efforts and a rush of pride flooded in, you really had done this, had finally reached where you envisioned yourself all those years ago and you'd be damned if you didn't make 17 year old Y/N proud and enjoy this moment. As you spoke, you ran your eyes through the room, noticing some familiar faces of friends and family, until it landed on a special one. Lewis was here. He came all the way to support you. Smiling as he looked back at you and flashed you one of his smiles. You looked beautiful, the suit he helped you pick looking amazing on your body, your presence in the room and the way you spoke making people hang on to every word, much like he was right now. "I'm here to support my friend in this amazing achievement of hers so if you have any questions about it I'll happily answer but I'm not answering race or car questions today", Lewis said politely as an interviewer questioned him about the latest advances in his car, excusing himself and making his way to grab a bottle of water and look for you after you had finished talking.

"So, you still came", you started, "I didn't thi- thank you for coming, I appreciate it", hugging him, "I missed you so much, I'm sorry I did what I did, it was uncalled for". When Lewis hugged you back, your muscles relaxed, knowing it was all good, "Don't you worry about it angel, I'm sorry too. We both said things we didn't mean", he reasoned, earning a nod from your head that rested on his chest, "we'll talk later about it okay?", you both agreed on.

Everyone had already left, it was just you and Lewis sat in one of the sofas, "Can we talk about it now? I really did not enjoy going to bed knowing we were not talking", you forwarded, "I'm sorry for going about it the way I did, you really didn't deserve this, but why did you say that? I can't lie, it really hurt me. I accept your apologies, you were stressed but was it all from that?", you said looking up. "You really don't see it, do you?", Lewis started, "How I look at you like you hung the stars and the moon just for me, how I get furious everytime some guy comes to you and looks at you like a piece of meat because you're so much more than what's available to the eye, how I always lend you a jacket when you rub your wrists because that's the first thing you do when you start getting cold, how in every room you are in that is where my attention goes, doesn't matter who else is in there", he finished, making you lift your eyes slightly, hoping he was saying what you have been wanting him to say. "You're so kind, selfless, smart and overall amazing, and so beautiful, so gorgeous I can't believe I get to spend my days next to you, damn woman, it's just so hard not to fall in love with you", Lewis sighed, then lifting his head so he could lock your gaze in his. "You fell in love with me?", you braved once your thoughts connected to your voice, earning a chuckle from the driver, "yeah, a long time ago, an I was so mad at myself that I had failed you like some before me, and how I had failed to support you, goodness, I never want to see that disappointment in your face again, let alone caused by me". And your heart jumped truly, no matter how crazy the day had been, all of those years wanting a little bit more from him, refraining from doing so because you didn't want to ruin your friendship.

"I fell for you too. I think I have loved you since I met you almost", you let out, "and I never believed you would reciprocate my feelings. I have watched your from afar getting everyone's attention, talking about failed romances and knowing that I could give you so much more only if you let me".

Grabbing your face with his hands, he nudged your nose in his before you took the chance to press a kiss to his lips, the feeling so much better than any of the times you imagined kissing him, "how about we save this for one of our places, hm? We can catch up on lost time before I go tomorrow, or maybe you can come with me", Lewis said, "was it not cancelled? I thought it was cancelled since you were here", you looked up at him, "I'm only absolutely needed there tomorrow morning apparently, and I needed to make things right with you... so what do you say to a nice first date on the clouds at 6 am?", he cringed slightly. Pressing a final kiss to your lips as the both of you looked at eacother, content with how everything turned out in the end you answered him, "I'll go anywhere at anytime as long as I'm with you".

#lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fluff #lewis hamilton fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic

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rekas-writes · 1 year

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Hello, can I order headcanons? If so, I would like a yoru x male reader with an agent whose skills are similar to a vampire, remember to eat healthy and take care of yourself!! ♡

A/N: Hello and thank you for your order! It was really fun to write! I promise I am also taking care of myself ^^ And here’s a note for you to do the same too!

Also, my inbox has quite the stack of reqs, but I’m doing my best to get through the list as quickly and as thoroughly as possible! It’s just a little bit overwhelming ^^; It’s also not helping that Tumblr on my pc is eating my reqs ;-; I’m glad my phone has all of them still (at least I hope it does-)

✧☕✧ Thank you for ordering, please do visit again soon~! ✧🍮✧

Strange Cravings and Love Bites

Pair: Yoru/ M! Agent + Radiant! Reader Source: Valorant

Type: Headcanons - 1,222 words Genre: Fluff, Slice of Life, Angsty/Hurt w/ Comfort at the very end Perspective: Second-Person (You/Your)

TW: Mild references to violence, reader getting hurt, reader biting Yoru and getting a little carried away but he's fine! + thought of Yoru dying at the very end

⋆♱✮☽🦇☽✮♰⋆

You remind Yoru a lot of the classical vampire figure, to the point where he kind of associates you with some of the common tropes. More specifically, the weaknesses. You may not be able to tell with his prickly demeanour, but he is a worrier- especially with those he holds dear, doubly so if it concerns his boyfriend. He doesn't want you to get hurt, and ends up projecting that whenever he gets harsh.

Que his surprise when he sees you eating garlic bread or chilling casually under the sun. You had to remind him that you weren’t actually a vampire, and if they really did burn up- Reyna would have to carry an umbrella to every day mission (You heard her laugh behind you right after. You weren’t sure whether to count your days or to consider yourself on her good side)

Though, that being said, the Sun probably does have some kind of influence over you and your abilities. Maybe you have an allergic reaction if you’re under it too long, or it takes longer to channel your abilities, or you could just feel weaker under the harsh light (Maybe even changing personality like a certain FE character)

Somehow, being beside Yoru makes that all feel better, if just a little. Maybe it’s because he’s your 夜 (*Yoru -> night). Your comforting, starlit night in the overwhelming brightness of day. If you ever spill those thoughts to him, he will short-circuit no matter how hard he tries to brush it off. Any flattery unrelated to his prowess in battle is way harder for him to take in and retort, even with his ego. It’s quite easy to tease him and watch his face glow warm with a blush- like the hue of the setting Sun

"Like the night sky, you're like a blessing to me! My very own good luck charm! Thank you, Yoru."

"... You're terrible at flirting. Focus on the mission already, idiot," // Internally: "adsjjskdjdk???SDAJKDAJHKJDK???"

If your eyes are sensitive to the light, there’s a good chance he gave you a pair of sunglasses. They might’ve even been your first gift from him! Having seen you wordlessly struggling with the glaring sunlight, he either leaves a pair in your locker or shoves them in your face while avoiding your eye contact. He will never admit that he was thinking about you, let alone worrying enough to get you something. Don’t ask, he will scoff and say it’s because he doesn’t want you dragging the team behind with your incompetence. Ouch.

You may have keen senses, like Reyna’s ability to hear people’s heartbeats. Your eyes are sharp, and you can smell copper like a shark despite nothing being spilt on the battlefield just yet; or perhaps your sense of smell is more distinct. Maybe certain people smell sweet and alluring or plain and uninteresting, if you have the urge to feed just like a vampire. You may even need to feed, in order to recover your strength. (On base, you totally drink from "juice pouches" Like some kind of morbid capri-sun)

If it’s the latter, Yoru most definitely draws you in the most. There’s just something you can’t put your finger on. If you focused on it, you'd be able to guess where he was with those heightened senses of yours. Mirror Yoru really needs to watch out when you’re on the prowl, that unique draw applies to him too

As a radiant related to creatures of the night, there’s a very good chance you can shapeshift into a bat! Yoru could never admit it but he thinks that form of yours is very cute. He definitely has the urge to just hold you whenever you shift. He thinks you can’t tell, but you can see the way his expression subtly changes to one of awe. No thought, only hold bat boyfriend gently.

Some agents have definitely found you like that, just napping somewhere in the common room with you in your bat form perched on his head. You might even be able to control or summon bats! He put a limit on how many you could summon in his room, though. He's not willing to have his bed be surrounded in bats, unfortunately :(

There’s been times where you've pushed yourself too far, the strain bearing its weight down on you. Like all radiants, you get tired when you use your abilities too much. You’re running on empty when you get hit badly, body too exhausted and hungry to mend itself like usual. Alone with a hand pressed to your biggest wound, you wait- head growing foggier as time seems to all but slow down.

You can’t describe the look on Yoru’s face when he finally finds you. He’s silent, and you can't hear his usual scolding and sharp insults. It's frightening, you realise. More frightening than your possible death. Instead, he's kneeling forward and offering his arm to your mouth. It’s positively dizzying when you breathe in, self-control broken as your body demands for you to accept.

When you finally snap back to focus, you’d never felt dread like that before, lurching backwards as you try and focus on hearing the thud of Yoru’s pulse. Guilt and anxiety are at the forefront of your mind, with apologies spewing forth and shaking hands. He only brings you into a slight hug, one partially induced out of light-headedness, as he mumbles your name and a partial command/plea,

“Take better care of yourself.”

He makes you swear to come to him whenever you need to drink after that. Yoru can't bear the sight of you like that again, slouched, wounded and gasping for breath with dulling eyes, your skin a sickly hue. He was prepared to offer as much as it took to get you back to usual. He probably accidentally confessed here and now, after realising just how much you meant to him.

If immortality is part of your radiant abilities, deep down, you knew this wonderful relationship would one day become a bittersweet memory. You avoided telling him for as long as possible, not wanting to burden him with your knowledge of what will happen. But one day, it’s inevitable as you gaze at the night sky and count the stars like they’re the countdown to the day you would be left behind.

You’re sombre, the terrifying thoughts weighing you down more than usual, and Yoru can tell whatever it is that had been plaguing you for these past few weeks is really piling up. He doesn’t want to have to force it out of you, but it pains him to see you like this. He’ll wait, no matter how long it takes to gather the strength

That day, you break. It’s as he holds your hand gently- as though you’re made of glass. He calls your name, not your code name, not a nickname. His tone is just as gentle, yet firm- steadfast in letting you know he has you as much as you have him,

“You can talk to me.”

You crack and splinter, caving in to his warmth and comfort. You vent the painful pangs in your heart, the dark storm that rages in your head. All that pent up grief and pain floods out into the abyss of night. To the world’s night and your night; the night that lets you cling close and embraces you readily to soften your anguish

#valorant x reader #yoru x reader #x male reader #x m reader #x transmasc reader #x trans male reader #x ftm reader #valorant #valorant yoru #reader insert #valorant fanfiction

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sukibenders · 11 months

Text

A lot of time is spent on focusing the bee sting on Anthony and how it affected him, which is understandable not denying it, but I also wish the same was extended to the other Bridgerton siblings. I imagine that Benedict and Daphne may mirror similar panicked and fearful tendencies like Anthony, but just think that they are better at hiding it. I can imagine the pair doing their best to avoid bees as much as possible, without ever really talking about it, but as soon as someone they care about is near them (bees) or even stung by one they go into a panic that consists of them seeking medical attention, reassuring said person (even if they are the ones who actually need assurance) and hovering attentively even if the said person has informed them repeatedly that they are fine.

For Colin and Eloise, I think they take more of a scholarly approach to it all. They secretly spent hours upon hours learning about bees and their habits in general, as well as trying to understand medical aspects of the human body, hoping for some way of understanding their father's death, but it doesn't lead anywhere nor answer the questions they have because, while Edmund died from a severe allergic reaction to the sting, at this point and time the medical community wouldn't have known to diagnose it as such. I think that, possibly with this knowledge, they wouldn't be as terrified of bees as their older siblings, but would still be on edge if one was near.

I think, for the younger Bridgerton siblings, it differs between the three. For Francesca, I think she has an innate desire to avoid them (bees) as much as she can, as a bee did kill her father after all, but isn't prone to share similar reactions as her older siblings (I kind of imagine her simply thinking to herself "why am I afraid of these creatures" or "why should I be afraid of them"). I don't remember her age correlation with Eloise that well, but I'm under the impression that they are close in age so that may warrant Eloise having more personal conversations with Francesca as a result, so that's why I think she may be just a little bit more aware than her younger two siblings.

For Gregory and Hyacinth, I don't think they are much wiser than their other siblings' fear of bees nor the larger impact brought by them, as they are still young enough to not only not have remembered much about said event but probably, if wanting to learn more about their father, wouldn't seem interested on learning more about his death and trying to figure it out, but more so the life he had lived.

#bridgerton #the bridgertons #anthony bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #daphne bridgerton #daphne basset #colin bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #francesca bridgerton #gregory bridgerton #hyacinth bridgerton #not saying that these points are true but more so headcanons that i have in mind #this started with me imagining how ben & daph would react to a bee sting incident before it slowly involved the other siblings as well

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ihathbenobiwankenobied · 1 year

Text

night shift

Summary:

"What were they doing together in Cody’s quarters, of all places, at 0100 in the morning?"

Or the one where Skull, the lead medic for the 212th, gets a call from Cody when Obi-Wan has a late night allergic reaction. He finds an unexpected scene.

Word Count: 2,390

Skull liked the night shift when it was assigned to him; it was peaceful.

It was quiet in the Negotiator’s medbay at night; it was a respite from bloody Generals and many of his irate brothers insisting they not be relegated to his care for a fucking paper cut that was usually a near-fatal stab wound.

Skull liked when he could take a seat and run through his weekly reports and shoot the shit with Oxy without having to pause.

Mostly, an empty medbay meant hours in his laboratory, a place where he could focus on preventative care instead. Skull’s eyes wandered over the notes he had written on a loose piece of flimsi. He peered back through his microscope at the bacta powder solution he had been studying for days.

He had just settled in minutes early, his shift starting at 0100 hours, when he heard the familiar piercing beep of his comlink. He tried not to sigh.

It blinked incessantly from across the lab, and Skull lifted his glasses from his face, curiosity peaked. Glancing briefly at the name on his comlink, Skull was surprised to see it wasn’t Oxy passive aggressively trying to get his attention from outside the locked laboratory door.

Rather, it was Commander Cody.

Skull raised an eyebrow; as the 212th’s lead medic, he was presented with tentative schedules for all of the men, even that of his commanding officer. He had noted that Cody was off duty for a day and he was scheduled to be on the Negotiator to report virtually to the Jedi Council. In fact, Skull had even seen him in the mess hall at dinner .

Suppressing his concern and suspicion, Skull answered the com.

“Commander? Is everything alright? I saw you were scheduled for off-duty–” Skull wasn’t able to finish his sentence.

“It’s Ob– the General. He’s– I think he’s having some sort of reaction– he can barely breath–” Skull’s heart skipped a beat. Allergies. Anaphylaxis.

Skull thought Obi-Wan’s lengthy list of allergies was under control . He had spent hours curating a list of approved dishes for the mess hall to cook for him, and even longer crafting a customized adrenaline shot tailored to Obi-Wan’s overactive immune system.

Between Skull and the General, they had been so careful to pinpoint what he could and could not eat, so diligent to prevent any possible scenario that could occur on the battlefield?

What could he have possibly eaten, or been in contract with on the Negotiator?

“Short of breath, nausea…?” Skull asked as he shut off his lab lights and shoved his loose flimsi into a manilla folder.

“Yes– his shots aren’t here. Says he forgot them– I–” Skull’s heart skipped a beat and he cut off Cody before more time could be wasted.

“I’ll bring one. Just– stay on the line Commander.” Skull tried to keep his panic from worrying the Commander even more. Instead, he kept his tone flat and stood hastily from his rolling chair.

Skull didn’t waste time and unlocked his lab door in haste. Oxy stared at him with a peculiar look of smugness and confusion mixed together. “Oi, Skully, you finally decided to do something useful?” He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and leaned back, arms crossed against the medical bed behind him.

Skull ignored him momentarily, and hurried to the medical supply closet. He headed straight for the prepacked case labeled with the General’s name and ripped it from the shelf.

“If you call saving the General’s arse again useful, then yes.” Skull shot Oxy a pointed look and brought his comlink back towards his face as he pushed through the swinging doors of the medbay.

“Commander, are you still on the line?” He asked as he walked briskly down the hallway in the direction of the barracks.

“Yes. He’s not looking so good, Skull…” Cody’s voice leaked with panic; Skull could almost hear the Commander’s voice trembling.

“Commander– I need you to focus for a moment. Where are you located?” Skull figured the General’s quarters was a likely answer.

“My quarters. 2224-01D.” Cody answered after a pause. “Please hurry.”

“Give me one minute.” Skull stopped walking and began to run, barely caring about the write-up he would likely get if anyone in authority saw him. It hardly mattered when the General’s life was on the line.

Skull steered himself towards the ranking clone barracks just next to those of the Jedi. For a moment, his focus faltered as he considered what Cody had told him. What were they doing together in Cody’s quarters, of all places, at 0100 in the morning? Skull could hardly believe that a General, much less a Jedi, would agree to meet in the quarters of their subordinate . It surely did explain why the General inadvertently had lost access to his adrenaline shots.

Skull shook the thoughts from his head and prepared himself for quick thinking as he approached Cody’s quarters.

01B, 02A, 01C….

01D.

He didn’t bother to knock, instead placing his fingertip on the pad just outside the door to force his own entry.

The door slid away to reveal an empty room save for a small chair in the corner holding some beige clothes and a set of glasses. Skull stepped inside, momentarily confused before he heard a soft voice emerge from the left.

“Keep breathing, please . Skull will be here any second. You will be fine, everything will be fine.”

Skull swiveled to find Cody sitting in just his briefs by Obi-Wan’s side. His face, usually perfectly shaved, was covered in a layer of stubble. He had an iron grip on Obi-Wan’s arm and panic laced his voice as he spoke softly.

Obi-Wan sat propped against the edge of Cody’s bunk, shirtless , with one hand curled over his neck and another on his chest. A loose pair of linen pants protected his legs from the metal floor and he heaved in wheezing breaths. “Don’t–” He sucked in another breath and abandoned whatever he was going to say as Skull approached and dropped his bag heavily onto the floor beside the pair.

“I’m here.” Skull said, mildly breathless himself, still struggling to figure out what in the absolute fuck was going on. He pulled open the medical case and plucked out one of the several adrenaline shots along with an alcohol pad. “General, you know the drill, keep those breaths even.” Skull kept his tone low and schooled his face into an unpanicked look. He hoped it was reassuring, especially given the wild look in the General’s wide eyes.

It had been a long time since the General had experienced anaphylaxis, and even longer since he had gone such a long period of time without his shot made available. Even out in the field it was rare for a reaction to be left untreated.

Skull made quick work of flicking the outside of the syringe. “Commander, pull down his pants.” Cody looked at him, mouth ajar, before Skull swore under his breath and pulled at the elastic band of the General’s pants himself.

He wiped the alcohol pad across his thigh before warning the General, “Alright, here we go.” Obi-Wan nodded urgently in response as he wheezed even louder.

Without hesitation, Skull stabbed the syringe into his thigh. Obi-Wan didn’t make a sound for a second, his breath still caught in his throat. Skull held his own breath and counted to ten, hoping to see Obi-Wan’s purpling cheeks turn into a less alarming shade of red.

“Deep breaths, General.” He reminded the General as he pulled Obi-Wan’s hand away from where it rested across his neck. Obi-Wan’s eyes remained wide, but he sucked in a deep breath that sounded marginally better than before. “That’s it, keep going.”

Skull watched him breath for a minute until, though he was still mildly wheezing, it looked like he was able to bring in a breath with little resistance.

Kriffing close call, that was.

Skull briefly looked over at Cody as he collected the sterilization wrapper from the shot. Cody’s lips were pulled into a hard line, like usual, but something in his eyes made him seem far less calm than he appeared.

If Skull didn’t know any better, he might have thought the Commander looked… teary .

“I’m afraid–” Skull averted his eyes when Obi-Wan spoke up hoarsely, his gaze on Cody’s form, “I’m not feeling…” He took a moment to suck in a breath and seemed to be shifting around like he wanted to stand up. Skull pressed him back against the side of the bunk gently.

“Please, stay sitting General!”

Obi-Wan fought against his hold weakly, “Not feeling so good, Cody–”

Cody’s eyes flew open wide and he rushed to the corner of the room where he emptied a waste basket. Moments later, he deposited it in Obi-Wan’s arms just in time. Cody looked away as Obi-Wan heaved into the can, a small amount of liquidy brown bile coming out before he set it aside.

“Well… that was pleasant.” Obi-Wan murmured after he paused to suck in another deep breath. Skull noted that the exposed skin of his chest and face had mostly returned to its normal color, outside of the vague redness of his cheeks and little mark on his neck…

Skull almost let his eyes widen, but looked away before he had a chance to let his thoughts get the best of him.

Medical help now, questions about the severe lack of clothing in this force-forsaken room later.

“Not really a great time for jokes, Sir.” Skull said instead, clearing his throat.

“Agreed.” Cody said firmly and stood in his place. He assumed his resting position, arms crossed over his chest and back held straight and tall. Yet, he hardly looked as menacing and serious as usual in just a pair of tight, black, underwear. “You can breath now?” The Commander asked Obi-Wan, the fright in his eyes fading just slightly as Obi-Wan offered him a hint of a smile and breathed in deeply once or twice.

“Yes, it works like a charm.” Obi-Wan said while pointing to the emptied syringe and offering Cody a strangely familiar smile. “Thank you Skull– I shouldn’t have left my quarters without my med pack. I extend my deepest gratitude to you for coming in such a hurry.” Skull was also offered a warm smile as he extended a hand to Obi-Wan and helped him onto the bunk where he could sit more comfortably.

“Not a problem, General. It’s my job.” He said the words teasingly. “And because it’s my job, I need to know what exactly happened here?”

There was a long, awkward pause as Cody looked nervously in Obi-Wan’s direction. Suddenly, the Commander seemed much more aware of the fact he was stripped down to his underwear, eyes blowing wide before he cleared his throat and reached for the set of blacks neatly folded on top of the dresser next to his bunk. “It was my fault. I bought some biscuits from the lower levels of Coruscant last time I was there. I thought I read the ingredients list, but I guess I must have missed something.”

Cody reached for the package – one biscuit missing – and handed it sheepishly to Skull.

While he tried to look over the ingredients list for a moment, Skull could hardly keep a straight face considering the idea that the Commander and General were sharing a package of fancy Coruscantian biscuits together, at 0100 in the morning, while half-naked in Cody’s quarters.

Things were starting to appear very obvious, and Cody seemed to realize Skull knew something was amiss.

“I’ll analyze these in my lab, see if maybe the ingredients list was missing something. No sense in wasting your time any further boys, it looks like you were enjoying your night.” Skull offered up a smile and crouched down to pull out an extra bottle of Obi-Wan’s emergency medication, and a few adrenaline shots.

General Kenobi’s face was colored a dark red as Skull sat down next to Obi-Wan and placed the next adrenaline shot in his hand. “Alright General, I know it’s been a while, but remember to repeat this shot in twenty minutes. If the symptoms don’t go away after three more, send me a com and we’ll get you set up in the medbay for observation.”

“Thank you, Skull. I will remember of course.” Obi-Wan took a deep breath and looked away before any prolonged eye-contact could happen. Skull nearly snorted.

“Would you like me to teach Cody how to do it?” He asked, glancing over at the Commander just as he was readjusting the shirt of his blacks.

“Oh!” Obi-Wan explained, “That certainly won’t be necessary–”

“Well I’m sure you can teach him yourself anyway, General. I am leaving two of these here… just in case.” Skull stood from the bed and forced himself to hold back the urge to wink in the Commander’s direction.

“That is ah– appreciated Skull,” Obi-Wan said, a half-hearted smile gracing his lips as he shifted into a more comfortable position on the bed.

Skull nodded and collected the remaining contents of Obi-Wan’s medkit before heading towards the door.

“Listen–” Cody started, likely seeing the hint of an amused smile on Skull’s lips, “It’s not what you are thinking.”

“I’m sure it’s not, Commander.” Skull tapped at Obi-Wan’s medical case with a few of his fingers and pressed the button to open the door. “It looks like you and the General were having quite the late night tactical planning session, complete with fancy biscuits and a lack of clothes .”

Cody looked vaguely exasperated before schooling his expression. “Don’t tell anyone.” He whispered, seriousness enveloping his form as he took a step closer to Skull. “We can discuss.. later.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it Commander. All I ask is in the future, you reference his list more carefully before feeding him anything. I’d really rather not interrupt your… intimacy, again.” Cody let out a sigh, “And please, keep a few shots here.”

With that, Skull nodded his goodbye to the blushing Commander, and shuffled into the hallway where he finally allowed himself a low chuckle.

There would be lots to discuss at Obi-Wan’s next medbay visit, that was certain.

But for now, Oxy and Skull would be having a rather entertaining night shift.

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