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queerfables · 6 months

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Why all the crowd scenes look the same, aka: Something is WRONG in Soho

I'm not even gonna tease and draw this out because it's so cool it doesn't need the fanfare. Ready?

Season 2 takes place over the course of 5 days. During that time, most of the passersby in Soho - maybe even all of them - stay exactly the same. It's the same people every day, wearing the exact same clothes, and they wander through the neighbourhood in paths that don't make any sense. You won't be able to unsee it. I can't believe it's taken us this long to realise.

Don't believe me? Rewatch the scene from 2x03, I Know Where I'm Going where Shax confronts Crowley outside the bookshop, appearing in a series of different guises. Pay attention to the people going past.

I've marked out five people you see on screen when Crowley first exits the bookshop at 39:37:

Numbers 1, 2 and 3 are following the path right. Number 4 follows the path left. Number 5 crosses the road.

Here the five people are again, at 40:19, when Crowley goes to return to the bookshop:

Number 5 is still visible in the distance, in the direction she walked in. This makes sense! But numbers 1, 2, 3 and 4 are rounding the same corner they just passed. It's as though 1, 2 and 3 all decided to turn and head back the way they came just 40 seconds ago, and number 4 has circled the block to join them.

This on its own would be super weird, but they're not the only people to do that in this scene. The man in the purple sweater from the first picture crosses the road, then appears back next to the bookshop, then starts walking back the way he came again.

Here's the part that made me absolutely certain, though. At 40:05, a man wearing an orange hoodie with blue sleeves walks past Crowley, who is heading towards the bookshop entrance.

The camera cuts to a view from behind Crowley, and a moment later, at 40:08...

He reappears in front of Crowley and walks past him again.

It's such a distinctive outfit, there's no mistaking it. They are absolutely fucking with the background characters and they are absolutely doing it on purpose.

Your turn. There are at least three other characters in this scene who pass by multiple times. Watch it again and try to spot them.

This scene is really chaotic and obvious, but the phenomena I'm talking about is much bigger than just one scene. Let's go back to the first thing I said: the background characters don't change. All our leads do. Maggie and Nina wear distinctive outfits, clearly demarcating each new day. Even Crowley and Aziraphale, who in season 1 were like cartoon characters with wardrobes full of identical clothing, vary their looks. Crowley changes his (very subtly) each day; Aziraphale is less rigid on timing, but he has a few different coats that he switches between. The background characters, on the other hand, wear the same outfits every single day. They walk by on the street but they never actually seem to have a destination. They sit in the coffee shop or pub and don't eat or drink anything, and nearly everyone leaves together exactly on closing time. It's eerie.

For reference's sake, here's a rough timeline of season 2, with pictures of Maggie and Nina's outfits to show the passing of time. I had to outsource this section because my post was too image heavy, lol. The main point I wanted to make is that five days go by.

Five days, and all the same faces keep showing up in the background, and almost none of them change their clothes. I'm not entirely sure what it means, but there's no way it's an accident. It might, in fact, be a game changer. To me this is proof positive that something is not as it seems. I've been a massive Clue skeptic, adamant that I'd only be convinced by the most unambiguous evidence, and honestly? This is enough to move the dials. It's too big for me to ignore. Whatever grand explanation of Good Omens we come up with has to account for this. I don't have it yet, but my current working theories are that Crowley and Aziraphale are under some seriously heavy surveillance, that time warping is involved, or that reality itself is not what it seems.

It would take a really long time for me to go through all of the background characters who turn up over and over but I do want to show you what I'm talking about. To wrap up, then, I'm going to pick out some memorable characters and walk you through a few of their appearances through the week. I highly recommend looking out for this yourself on your next rewatch and seeing how many other characters you can recognise.

Yellow Skirt

The first person I kept coming back to as being not quite right. You probably remember her from the first episode - she's the one who waves and walks past Maggie and Nina the night they're locked in together. Incidentally, she's also Person Number 3 in the scene with Shax.

Day 1 (2x01 - 36:20):

Day 2 (2x02 - 42:03)

Day 3 (2x03 - 06:36)

Day 5 (2x06 - 30:00)

Coolest Leather Jacket In The World

It's not so easy to recognise people wearing lots of nondescript dark colours, but I love his hair and his jacket, so he stood out to me. I think there might be a lot more people who are wearing fairly nondescript clothes who I just can't recognise from episode to episode.

Day 2 (2x02 - 16:44)

Day 4 (2x04 - 41:20)

Day 5 (2x06 - 29:20)

Dressed In Mustard

Ms Mustard shows up everywhere. If you want to see what I mean about their paths not making sense, pay attention when she comes on screen, because she'll often show up a few times in succession and walk very purposefully to nowhere in particular. The thing that she is doing, essentially, is behaving like an extra in a tv show. Which of course she is, but you're supposed to make that invisible by not having the same person go back and forth in the same scene, or changing up their outfit each in-universe day to give the sense time is passing. Not doing that is a really deliberate choice.

Day 1 (2x01 - 22:37)

Day 2 (2x02 - 42:03)

Day 3 (2x03 - 01:49)

Day 3 (2x03 - 37:07)

Day 5 (2x06 - 29:59)

Swishy Dress

This character shows up a lot in the first episode. I've struggled to find her in later episodes, though. None of the characters seem to follow the same patterns or show up to equal extents each day, which makes me think this isn't a straightforward time loop. I haven't actually cross referenced character appearances to in world times, though. Possibly this is a project for someone who's more across the time-related shenanigans than me.

Day 1 (2x01 - 22:43)

Day 3 (2x03 - 07:01)

Yellow Vest

I've only seen this guy a handful of times, always around the French restaurant. I wonder if there's significance to that.

Day 2 (2x02 - 41:06)

Day 4 (2x05 - 12:49)

Fuzzy Blue Coat

Another background character who shows up frequently. The blue doesn't stand out quite as much as the yellows and reds some characters wear, but it's very distinctive.

While we're getting a lot of shots of the street, it's worth noting that I'm pretty sure the vehicles we see are also just the same few cars repeating each day. A lot of them are in neutral silvers and monochrome, but there's a couple of blue cars, one red, and one black and white that I'm fairly sure I've seen over and over through the season.

Day 1 (2x01 - 22:45)

Day 2 (2x02 - 42:04)

Day 3 (2x03 - 02:00)

Day 5 (2x06 - 40:10)

Day 5 (2x06 - 48:56)

Day 5 (2x06 - 50:06)

One final note: Whatever this is, Nina's employee who you see in the background at the coffeeshop sometimes isn't affected by it. He's wearing different outfits each day. On the other hand, some of the other shopkeepers do seem affected. I'm fairly sure Mr Brown and Mrs Sandwich wear the same outfits a few different days, only changing because of Aziraphale at the ball.

And that's it! Thanks for reading and I hope your mind is blown as much as mine is.

EDIT:

Hey I don't mind anyone pointing out production reasons that this might be the case or disagreeing with my analysis (over-analysis, some might say 😉). Please be kind about it, though. I'm not ignorant of the practical limitations involved in film making, but some of these costumes were really distinctive in a way I thought might be intended to draw attention.

For those of you who do find this theory convincing, I feel I should mention that I was working under the assumption that this stuff would have taken a few days to film, even filming it all together. That would strongly suggest that the actors were deliberately costumed the exact same way over multiple days of shooting, which made me think it had to be purposeful. @coranax was kind enough to point out, though, that behind the scenes videos said the extras were filmed separately to the main actors because of Covid protocols. In that case, they could have done it in just one day and that weakens my confidence in its intentionality.

Finally, all of my points about the scene with Shax in 2x03 stand. That was not a case of accidental continuity errors, it was really elegantly choreographed to enhance the tension in the scene. I say that with confidence because the extras are doing exactly what Shax is doing: circling Crowley, appearing where he doesn't expect them, creating a whirlwind sense of being off balance and out of control. I think it's really cool and effective, whether there's a deeper meaning to it or not.

#good omens #good omens meta #fable talks good omens

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aaronhotchswife · 5 months

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THE WAY YOU MAKE ME FEEL

Drew Starkey x Female Reader

Chapter 1

Warnings : alcohol, panick attack, angst, want to give the reader a hug, smut, loss of virginity

Chapter 2

"If two people are meant to be together, they will eventually find their way back into each other's arms, no matter what."

Drew's point of view

I look at her, sleeping on my shoulder. She looks so peaceful, her breathing is serene. I look at her lips, that even if I kissed them a lot for the sake of the show, I wonder how they would taste if it was for real. I had agreed to watch Tangled with her since I know it's her favourite movie. For the year she lived with me, she asked me to watch it with her. She was always watching it alone but I finally succumbed to watching it tonight.

She moves slightly, causing me to hold my breath.

'"Hi," she says, repositioning herself on the couch. "Sorry about that," she glances to my shoulder.

"Hey, don't worry," I speak softly, my gaze went back to the movie, a lantern scene playing.

"I woke up just in time for my favourite scene"

"This is your favourite scene ?" I chuckle, incredulous.

"Yeah ! It's so romantic. The ways he looks at her and the song, it's cute."

"It is," I say, looking over her.

We finished the night both laying on the couch, showing each other tiktoks and funny Instagram reels. It was nice to just hang out, like roommates and friends, even if in my head, I always had that little thing, where she might likes me back.

Y/N's point of view

I come back from the grocery store, rubbing my hands together from the cold outside before setting the grocery bags on the counter.

"Drew ?" I spoke loudly, waiting for him to answer me. "Are you home?"

Without getting any answers, I emptied the grocery bags before laying on the couch, a cooking TV show playing in the background.

***

To : Cut the camera

Mads : the guys chose the bar for tonight. They say it's a pub kind of place

Y/N : girlsss idk what to wear

Lacia : you should wear your blue jeans with your black silk top 🥵

Mads : I AGREE

Mads : btw Odessa's gonna be there tonight

Y/N : that must be why Drew isn't home

Y/N : i already didn't feel like going now it's worse 🙃

Madie : c'mon girl, you're gonna have a great time with us!! And it's the last time that we're gonna see each others before everyone leave for Christmas soooo

Since Drew and Odessa were filming a movie together, they were always hanging out. I tried my best not to be jealous of her but it was hard. I felt like she was prettier, skinnier, funnier than me. And Drew seems to find her really interesting. Which was ok. I was just his roommate and his best friend. Just his roommate and his best friend.

***

The pub was crowded just enough. I was sitting next to JD and Lacia, talking about crazy fan theories.

"Oh there he is!" JD exclaim, reaching out his hand to do a handshake with Drew. I felt my hands getting clammy, feeling a bit anxious seeing him with her.

"Hi man, hi Lacia, hi Y/N." Drew said, his eyes scanning the booth.

"Hi guys!" said Odessa.

JD and Lacia said hi at the same time, but I find the straw in my drink a lot more interesting than her. I looked over Drew, making eye contact with him before letting my gaze fall back down to my drink.

Drew's point of view

I saw her, wearing her cute jeans and that black top that embraced her curves.

She looked over me, her eyes filled with something else than usually. Her expression changed the second she saw me. I sat at the booth, next to JD. Even if I wanted to sit next to her, she seemed more absorbed by the straw in her drink that by my presence. Odessa sat next to me, putting her hand on my back, making me stiffen. I saw Y/N's gaze looking over me, before she got up, walking over Madelyn and Chase. I get up, walk over them to say hi to my friends. She is standing next to me, but she is still looking everywhere except where I want her to look. I leaned over her, my hand finding a place on her back.

"You ok ?" I asked.

"Positive."

Her tone is dry and I can't think of any reasons of why she would be like that.

"So you brought Odessa ?" Chase asked, making me come back to reality.

"Yeah, well we're spending a lot of time together these days because of Hellraiser and she's nice and —"

"In that case you should go see her before she starts missing you too much."

I turned back to Y/N, my brows furrowed. The tone is which she said it is harsh, something that would normally not happen with her. She doesn't look at me and instead, before I can answer anything, her eyes find Rudy, Austin and Madison talking next to the bar and just like that, she's gone.

Y/N's point of view

I'm sitting at the booth, listening to Rudy asking Austin a Truth or Dare question. I am here, but I feel as if my head is somewhere else. Somewhere alone with Drew. Somewhere where he is in love with me.

"Drewbear, if you saw me on Tinder, would you swipe right ?"

I can hear Odessa giggling while she's asking her question to Drew. Even if I do not want to hear his answer, I suprise myself raising my head and listening carefully. I can't invent the way his eyes look at me before making their way to Odessa.

"I would."

I feel my heart stop. I know I didn't have the right to be jealous of her. We are just friends, even if sometimes it feels like we are more than that. I try to smile, making it seems like it don't affect me, but the way I see Madelyn look at me, her eyes filled with pity, I feel the tears raising in my eyes. I get up to go order a drink, asking everyone if they wanted a refill. I could hear my voice shaking, trying my best to control myself.

"I'll come with you," Drew says, raising from his seat.

"You don't have to."

"C'mon Y/N/N, you can't bring 5 drinks by yourself," he smiled, following me to the bar.

I ordered the drinks, watching the floor and playing with the rings on my fingers waiting for the drinks to be ready.

Drew's point of view

"Did I do something wrong ?" I spoke softly. I could feel something was wrong and it made me sick in my stomach, thinking that I could've hurt her. "You're acting weird ever since I've arrived."

She stops playing with her rings, lifting her head to watch me.

"You didn't."

"Then why are you acting like that ? Being mean about Odessa, ignoring me ? You're in your little world since the beginning of the night, looking everywhere but at me. C'mon, you know we're best friends and that we say everything to each other."

"Do we ? Do we tell each other everything Drew ?" Her voice was trembling.

The moment was cut by the bartender, handing us the drinks.

"I want to talk about it Y/N." I talk louder, making our way to the booth.

"There is nothing to talk about."

Y/N's point of view

As I sat at the booth, my phone vibrated. I look down to see a text from Madelyn.

'You really should tell him how you feel'

Another vibration.

'He's in love with you. You should see the way he looks at you. He's just trying to make you jealous'

'Yeah right' I write back.

'It's working'

"Y/N, truth or dare ?" Odessa asks.

There's is no way I trust this girl enough for a dare, so I answer truth.

"How many persons did you have sex with ?"

I feel the heat creeping up on my cheeks. Even if being a virgin in my 20's sucked, it was always something I could hide. Except for now because the way she looks at me, I'm pretty sure she realizes what I am.

"Oh oh, are you a virgin ?" She laughed sarcastically.

Everybody at the table is silent. Because even if mostly everyone knew, the tone is which she said it makes everyone feel tense. I feel my breath getting shorter and I start getting dizzy. I can't breathe. I can't feel my heart. I can't even focus on the faces of my friends in front of me. I feel like I'm in high school again, with the mean girls. I feel like I will die. I look at Drew, a pleading look on my face. I want him to do something even if I don't know what. I need air, I need the cold air of December to help me breathe.

Drew's point of view

Everybody is silent, everybody is looking at me. Madelyn gets up, running to the door, yelling Y/N's name. I turn to face Odessa and I know she can see the anger in my eyes.

"What. The. Fuck is your problem ?" I speak loudly, not a care in the world if I'm causing a scene. "You should leave. Now." I tell her before exiting the bar, looking for Y/N.

I find her outside, on her knees. Madelyn is next to her, on her knees as well, rubbing her back. I can hear her crying, her respiration is twitching as she tries to speak.

"I–I–don't want to feel like this anymore. I don't want to feel like I'm not good for anyone," I hear her say between tears. "I–feel like I will die. Why did she do that. Why can't he love me," I see her hyperventilating and I want to say something. To do something. But my feet are stuck on the ground.

"Shh, it's okay. You're okay. You're alive. You're with me. It's okay," I can hear Madelyn comforting her.

"You should go. I think you're the last person she wants to see at the moment," Madison speaks loudly behind me, Lacia following her . Madelyn raises her head, as does Y/N.

"Make him leave Madie, please, make him leave."

I heard her, I look over the girls, tears forming in my eyes. I don't understand anything that is happening right now. I don't understand how my best friend is on the floor have a breakdown because of me.

Y/N's point of view

I run outside, falling to my knees on the ground. I can't breathe. The blood is pounding in my ears. My heart is thudding in my chest.

"Y/N!" I hear Madelyn say, but I don't have the strength to turn back. I need to be alone, I need to breathe.

"Y/N," Madelyn is reaching to me, holding me close to her. My breathing is shaking and I try to control it, to control the tears falling down on my cheeks. I feel humiliated, I feel as if I'm going to die. I don't hear Drew running out the door and I don't see him standing there, his face broken.

"It's okay. It's okay. Breathe with me." Madelyn says, inhaling and exhaling. I try to do the same but my breath gets stuck.

"I–I–don't want to feel like this anymore. I don't want to feel like I'm not good for anyone," I say between tears. "I–I feel like I will die. Why did she do that. Why can't he love me," I rambled, unable to say anything that make sense.

"Shh, it's okay. You're okay. You're alive. You're with me. It's okay."

I don't hear Drew running out the door and I don't see him standing there, his face broken. I only realized he's there when I hear Madison and Lacia telling him to go home.

"Make him leave Madie, please, make him leave," I begged.

#drew starkey x reader #drew starkey angst #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey smut #drew starkey #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x you #drew starkey x female reader #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #outer banks

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shadesoflsk · 4 months

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FOR MORE YEARS TO COME

pairing: leon kennedy x gn reader.

summary: Just Leon celebrating New Year. Brief mentions of alcohol (He doesn't drink) and suggestive words but nothing much. This is once again straight up fluff hehe.

wc: 1.2k something short to end this year.

🪐 masterlist

The room was filled with cheerful voices and background music. Chris and Claire have so gratefully held a New Year's Eve party and obviously, both Leon and you were invited.

Parties weren't Leon's thing, being surrounded by people and not being able to hear anything that happened outside those 4 walls made him a bit fidgety. Nonetheless, this would be the first time he gets to spend this amazing holiday with his most trusted people.

And you, of course.

On his right hand, there is a glass of orange juice – since he has long stopped drinking alcohol, for his and your sake. He took a sip and excused himself before approaching you.

You were on the balcony, admiring the view Chris' apartment provided. The night sky was adorned by fireworks which flooded your heart with a warm feeling of joyfulness.

That's it until you feel a tap on your shoulder.

“Lovely night, isn't it?” He flashes a charming smile to you. He carried an aura of mischievous and teasing, and with the way he spoke, you could sense he was indulging in some type of light-hearted role-playing.

“It surely is.” You chuckle and shake your head. Being with Leon was never boring and he made sure you always remember that.

“May I have your name?” Leon asks, placing his elbow on the railing. He holds the orange juice glass as if it were an expensive liquor, giving him the appearance of a playboy or some flirty random dude.

“I have a boyfriend.” You try your best to hide the smirk that is threatening to form on your face.

“That's a weird name but hey, I won't judge you.” He brings his glass of orange juice to his lips, chuckling while doing so.

“Sir, I have a boyfriend.” You responded back, crossing your arms trying to sound pissed.

“Yeah, but I don't see him.” He grins, making a fool of himself just for the sake of watching you laugh.

You just roll your eyes at Leon's act. And he takes this opportunity to snake an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“Hey! My boyfriend is going nuts if he sees this.” You feign a disgusted expression even though your hands betray your words, they quickly find their place on Leon's shoulder.

“Let him be.” He murmured as he nuzzled his face on your cheek, his stubble feeling like sandpaper against your skin.

Although dating Leon had his ups and downs, especially after a rough phase when he pushed everyone away, you still loved him nonetheless. You knew it wouldn't be easy and it never will be, but you could always try with him.

Naturally, life isn't a straight line that would always give him misery and depressive thoughts. After a storm, there's always a rainbow and he believes he's finally seeing colors when everything used to be black and white.

Opening up with friends slowly brought back his usual self. He still wonders if his life is going on the right track, especially when one of his missions gets too hard to handle. However, as soon as he looks back and sees how many great things he has achieved, a smile forms on his face.

Just like right now, as your perfume fills his nostrils he can't help but feel like a teenager in love. He doesn't care that he's basically clinging onto you, life’s too short to be shy about showing his love to his love.

“Someone's being clingy.” You drop the act as your fingers run through his hair.

“I missed you.” His words are muffled as his lips are glued to your right cheek.

“I was away just for a minute.”

“Worst minute of my entire life.”

You laugh. Like him, you often get overwhelmed by these festivities. You appreciate the thought, but sometimes, recharging your social battery is very much needed.

“So…” The way he stretched that so immediately made you think that something was stirring in that brain of his. “Wanna go somewhere more private?”

You didn't miss the sultry tone in his voice.

And neither did you miss the opportunity.

“Ah…”

Both of you let out a satisfied breath as you snuggle closer to one another, a thick blanket surrounding your bodies as a movie plays in the background.

When you first heard Leon's proposal, your mind wandered through each different scenario. Most of them include both of you tangled in the sheets after a session of private time.

However, after making up an excuse, saying goodbyes, and wishing everybody a happy new year, you found yourself in a predicament.

As soon as you reached your home, exhaustion took over the both of you. So, when you walked towards the bedroom, you gave each other a look that could only translate into:

Cuddling time.

So, that's how you find yourself now. Cocooned in the blankets and letting out soft breaths, drowning in the sea of peace and tranquility, something that Leon has grown to love.

“What time is it?” Leon suddenly asks with a calm voice, not wanting to break the pleasant atmosphere that was set in the room.

“Mhm… Don’t know.” You murmur, laziness taking over you as your hand clumsily attempts to find your cell phone.

After wriggling and writhing for a hot minute, you finally found your cell phone and returned to your previous position. Your tired eyes focus on the screen as the clock reads 11:58 PM.

“Fuck, It’s almost midnight.” You tell Leon, showing him the time.

He slowly turns his head from the TV back to you, an adoring gaze adorning his face while doing so.

“Would you look at that? Another year of being stuck with me.” Leon jokes as he presses his forehead against yours, his blue eyes almost heart-like as he admires you.

This year has been… hectic for both of them. But especially to him. After almost giving up and selling his soul to his own addiction and despair, he could finally see the light at the end of the tunnel, even though it was still so faint that he could barely believe he was lucky enough to live a simple life.

But there he is.

His life as an agent wasn’t done, far from that. However, he has made peace with his broken pieces. He couldn’t fix something that was inherently his, but he could surely embrace it and keep moving forward.

After he said those words, you simply chuckled and gave him a warm smile. You were proud of how far he has come.

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

And for a moment, you let the silence fill your room. Safe and love are the words Leon would often use to describe what being with you means. And in moments like these, he restates his own statement.

Eventually, you break the silence as you turn on your cell phone one more time. You checked the time and it no longer showed a two-digit hour.

“I guess that I have to say Happy New Year?” You laugh as you admit that both of you have missed the New Year’s countdown, even though you were in solitude.

“Well… Happy New Year to you too, my love.” He says, a grin appearing on his face. “But that makes me realize something…”

With the way his goofy smile remained tugged on his lips, you could already guess what he was trying to say.

“Please, don’t say it.”

“I haven’t kissed you since last year!”

Another year with his corny jokes…

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #leon kennedy fluff #resident evil

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starions · 11 months

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i didn't find my love, but i still made it this far without it.

pairing ; miguel o'hara x gn!spider!reader

words ; 1432

summary ; in every dimension you are loved dearly by all, and in every dimension, miguel gets you killed.

tags ; angst, mentions of death (reader dies... a lot), miguel is a stalker (with good intentions), allusions to comic!miguel, mentions of cheating, y/n isn't used, gender neutral pronouns

han's note ; i wrote this with my self-insert spidersona spiderette in mind lol but i tried to make reader as vague as possible <3 also i haven't written in a while and it shows. title is an ethel cain lyric. stream preacher's daughter.

;

The first time he had seen you, you were wearing a lab coat and helping him with his genetic tests at the Alchemax headquarters; the second time, your face was broadcasted on an “in memoriam” video on New York’s biggest news channel; and the third was you in your Spider suit, swinging around NYC. He never thought he’d see that face again.

The glow of orange screens burned into his vision, the beginnings of a migraine brewing behind his eyes. Miguel’s eyes narrowed at the screen, watching as you take down a villain in your dimension. You moved with grace, tying the villain up in your webs with ease, before turning them into the police. He mentally noted some skills that you could work on, like becoming more aware of the blindspot you had on your left side or cutting back on the quick quips that riled up the villain even more. Nevertheless, he hummed in approval, clicking off the video. He was in view of another window this time; you as you exited your apartment’s back window in your Spider suit. He gritted his teeth; you treated your job as Earth-799’s Spider-Person with such carelessness, such negligence. Yes, you had a good skill set that could become great with more work, more practice, but the indifference you had about concealing your identity irked him. Your mask only covered half your face, for God’s sake, and your hair wasn’t covered at all. Was this a game to you?

“You’re going to tear a chunk of that desk off again,” Lyla said, flickering above his shoulder. He grunted, looking down to see the talons extended from the pads of his fingers sinking into the material of the desk. He quickly yanked his hands off the desk, crossing his arms over his chest. Lyla looked him up and down, grinning mischievously. “You should just let them join already, instead of stalking them.”

“I’m not stalking them,” he retorted, closing out the window.

“Right right right,” Lyla responded. “What’s this then?” She snapped her fingers, and videos and videos of you pop into view; you shaking hands with Captain Stacy; you swinging around your Earth’s New York City; you enjoying your morning coffee on your balcony; you. You. You—

“You have a problem dude.”

“It’s not like that,” Miguel said, a growl seeping into his words. “I’m just… making sure they are safe.”

“You could make them safer if you just let them join~”

“No.” Miguel rubbed his temples, glancing up to stare at you on the monitor.

Lyla tsked, checking her nails as if she was in dire need of a manicure. “How could I forget you had this self-loathing, cynical nature about you. Shielding them from yourself is just going to drive the both of us insane.”

“Lyla,” Miguel said, “activate ‘do not disturb’ mode.”

“Whatever, stalker.” With a roll of her eyes, Lyla flickered out of view, leaving Miguel alone. With only you.

His eyes are drawn to an advertisement in the background of one of the videos. You, in your Spider suit, advertising some energy drink on a giant screen in the middle of Times Square. Another screen showed you advertising some sort of athletic wear, and he could see someone dressed in your suit down below, taking pictures with tourists. Sure, Spider-People in almost every dimension take on advertisements, sell merchandise, and sign autographs. But everyone loved you, everyone wanted to get close to you. You even got J. Jonah Jameson to soften up to you with your cushy job as editor of The Daily Bugle.

In every dimension, everyone admired you, adored you, even. You were cherished by all.

And in every dimension, Miguel was the cause of your death.

Miguel gritted his teeth, a fang threatening to break the skin of his lip. The flood of incoming memories was doing nothing to dull the pain behind his eyes, and he slammed a fist into one of the monitors, watching as it flickered once, and all of the orange screens turned to black.

He held his head in his hand, mind drifting to the first dimension he had found you in. His dimension.

Absolutely intelligent, hard-working, ambitious, you joined Alchemax as an intern with the goal of being a top geneticist, like himself. As you moved up in the ranks, you became a member of Miguel’s team, tracked to design a serum that could allow anyone to gain superpowers. Miguel viewed you as a vital member of his team; obedient without needing to be, kind and optimistic despite the workload assigned to them all, and one to watch. With your brains and work ethic, you would have been at the top of Alchemax in no time.

Would have. It all went wrong, and it was his fault. You and him were both against using felons as test subjects for the serums, but it was out of both of your hands. You were only supposed to take the blood of the man they had injected with the serum, with Miguel monitoring the screen from outside the room. It happened instantaneously. The man in the hospital bed reacted negatively to the serum, growing the legs of a spider in seconds and grabbing you by the throat. Miguel watched in horror as the man wrapped his spider legs around your neck, slamming you over and over again against the cool tile walls.

The next thing he remembered was security gunning the man down, and him cradling you in his arms.

That was the first of the tragedies that plagued his life. When he decided to abandon his dimension for another one, one where he wasn’t afflicted by the role of Spider-Man, he was not expecting to find a dimension where he and you had a family together. For a split second, he imagined a world where he had taken you up on the offer of having a drink after work, if he answered those silly pictures you sent him more often. A world where the two of you had a family, and he didn’t have to take one over.

That thought collapsed when he saw what became of you in this new world. Miguel—this version of himself—didn’t love you. Not like he should have. After years of marriage, you discovered his lies, his deceit, his cheating. You seperated from him immediately, moving into your sister’s place as you began divorce and custody proceedings. Then, one night, while you were driving to your old apartment to pick up Gabriella, you were struck by a drunk driver.

You, this dimension’s favored meteorologist, were mourned for weeks. News channels across New York showed your face and aired your best segments in memoriam. New York City’s treasured weather forecaster, dead at the hands of a drunk driver, leaving behind a devastated husband and daughter. Even in this dimension, you were loved by all.

Miguel had killed you twice, and didn’t even know the second time. If that version of him hadn’t been so despicable, hadn’t thrown away something so precious, then you wouldn’t have been driving that night. It was his fault.

So when he saw that dimension’s Miguel be gunned down, what was he to do? Leave Gabriella to be an orphan? He couldn’t do that. Not to you. She’d be loved by a regretful father, and your memory would be kept alive until he died.

How naive he was.

“Earth to Miguel,” a voice chimed. Miguel stopped his self-inflicted mental torture to glare at Lyla.

“I thought I put you on ‘do not disturb’.”

“Have you not seen your watch blinking? Anomaly detected on Earth-799. Jess needs backup.”

His breath hitched, eyes trailing down to his Gizmo where he found several missed calls from Jess. “Send Hobie,” he said, voice lacking emotion. The thought of seeing you face to face made his stomach churn.

“He’s not available,” Lyla replied, pushing her heart shaped sunglasses up.

“Then send Peter B.,” he said, annoyance seeping into his voice.

“He’s in a ‘Daddy and Me’ class; he sent pictures, wanna see?” Lyla asked, pulling out her phone.

“No!” Miguel snapped, rubbing his forehead. “Send Ben, send Lego Peter, send Pav! Send anyone but me.”

Lyla tutted, shaking her head. “No one is available. Jess needs you, Miguel.”

Miguel cursed under his breath, his holographic mask suddenly covering his face. He tapped a few buttons on his Gizmo, eyes squinting at the brightness of the portal that opened next to his workstation. He took a step into the portal, praying that this time would be different.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 #into the spider verse #atsv #atsv x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #hannah writes

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eurydia · 4 months

Text

a self-indulgent drawing of Raphael disheveled and covered in blood

I was inspired to write a short fic to go with it, you can read it below or in AO3: [One Last Visit]

Tav finds Raphael bleeding and near-death in her room in Elfsong Tavern—or so she thinks.

One Last Visit (944 words) by Eurydia

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Blood and Injury, Drinking, Alcohol, Older Man/Younger Woman, Ficlet, Minor Spoilers, Raphael is overly protective of Tav, Hope is such a tease (and so is he)

This is also my gift for the support on "The Lover's Gambit". Thank you so much ❤️!

Tag explanations: - Minor spoilers for Wyll's background - Implied/Referenced Torture - Does not actually happen in the fic, but Raphael briefly describes doing it to someone else

Tav went to her room in Elfsong Tavern. The rest of her party was still downstairs, drinking and celebrating for the night.

She opened the door and found Raphael slumped against her bed, his white frilled collar stained with blood.

“Raphael? What in the Hells happened?” she knelt beside him.

He glanced at her weakly, managing a smirk. Tav wanted to think it was selfishness that made her start tending to his wounds: if she helped him, he would owe her a favor. But that wasn’t entirely true. She had developed a soft spot for the devil.

“Do you know what happens when a devil is struck down on this charming plane of existence?” he began, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. “Stop talking and hold still,” Tav muttered. Presently, she had no patience for his theatrics. She grabbed a napkin off a table and began to wipe his smarmy face with it. He chuckled. For once, he listened and stayed still, silently watching her dab at his curled lip.

It wasn’t long before Tav realized there wasn’t a single cut or bruise on him. Either he was concealing them—or feigning his injuries. She gave him the benefit of the doubt for now and looked him over. Bloodstains covered his normally immaculate outfit, some mere splatters while others steadily bloomed in size. He smelled strongly of the Hells, of ash, sulfur and infernal metal.

Raphael was enjoying this. He figured he could indulge himself a little more and drag the show on.

“I’ll get Shadowheart—“ He grabbed her wrist gently. Worry strained her fair features. “As much as I enjoy watching you fuss over me, I’m afraid we don’t have much time,” Raphael said, solemnly. “Soon I’ll be sent back to the hells, to the very point where I last stood before I was…beaten. Potentially for good, this time. But since I’ve grown quite fond of you, I decided to pay you one last visit. For old time’s sake.” Tav stared at his fingers still curled around her wrist. She slowly took his hand in hers. “A question you may ask, but only one. True to my word, I shall answer, not run.” Her gaze fell to a stain somewhere on his chest. “What is a devil like you truly afraid of?” she decided.

Raphael laughed. A laugh that came from deep within, unabashed and loud.

“Oh, you mortals are so gullible! It’s adorable. Do you really think I could be beaten so easily? No need to fetch your favorite cleric,” he snapped. All the bloodstains on his clothes vanished. “It wasn’t my blood, little pup.” Tav sighed. She shoved him away and walked to her wine cabinet. “You’re insufferable,” she groaned, opening a Berduskan and taking a long, irritated swig. “Don’t act so surprised. We are well-acquainted by now.” He stood then brushed nonexistent dust off his clean clothes. “Do I dare ask whose blood that was?” “Let’s just say that vile, drunken creature downstairs won’t be bothering you any longer.”

Tav set her drink down.

“What did you do?” “If you must know: I dismembered him,” he grinned. “Limb by limb, fingernail by fingernail. You should’ve heard his screaming, it was utterly delightful.” Her back was to him, but he caught her shoulders bowing. He grinned. “Are you worried about me?” “Merely protecting my assets,” he replied. “Now, enjoy your night. If you’ll—“ “Wait. You didn’t answer me.”

Raphael approached her. He extended a hand, brow raised in question. Eventually, she gave her his hand. He conjured up a handkerchief and began to wipe the bloodstains off her fingers.

“I did not,” said Raphael, his eyes sharpening to a point on her palm. “My heart aches for your horned and heroic friend, Wyll Ravengard. If he’s not in the shadow of his fellow devils, he’s in the shadow of his father. I see why Mizora took pity on the poor pup. After all these years, he still hasn’t given up hope of pleasing him. Hope—such a tease.”

Raphael said it all in his usual tone, full of melodrama and feigned pathos. At the end, however, Tav caught his gaze softening. Their eyes met, and he quickly finished his task before turning away.

“You don’t get along with your father?” Tav asked, genuinely surprised. She found it strangely human that even a fiend like him was not immune to such predicaments. “Unless you consider plotting each other’s downfall as a father-son bonding activity, then no. We do not. Thankfully, I have as much interest in making amends as I do in the affairs of mortalkind.”

He would never admit it, but he hadn’t told a single soul about how he felt about his father, not even his incubus. Usually, he would’ve taken his leave by now. But the way she stared at him, with tenderness and affection, compelled him to linger a moment longer. He let her draw nearer, until he was close enough to see the scarring in her eye from the tadpole.

Tav kissed him on the cheek.

“Thank you, Raphael. I owe you a drink." “A drink? I think you owe me far more than that." He leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing on her lips. She felt herself rising to meet him, her eyelids fluttering shut, her heartbeat overtaking the murmurs of the Illithid— He snapped. “Goodnight, sweetling.”

She watched him disappear in a vibrant flame. On the spot where he had stood, lay a neatly folded handkerchief. She picked it up and sniffed it, the scent of the Hells—of him—flooding her senses like the most intoxicating perfume.

Tav put it in her pocket and smiled.

#bg3 #tw blood #bg3 fanart #bg3 raphael #raphael the cambion #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 raphael #my fics #inspiration hit me from nowhere and i just rolled with it lol #he is such a teaseee ugggh i love him sm #he's so fun to write for #happy holidays and thank you <3

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onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 7 months

Text

Something There (Chapter 8)

6.7k words

Roy Kent x Reader

Warnings: Language, mentions of sex, angst, mentions of slut-shaming and double standards, horrible reporters being horrible, pining, finally some fluff!!!

A/N: This is probably my favorite chapter so far, and has some of my favorite scenes I've ever written!! My heart is HAPPY!!

Series Masterlist

I understood; I understood completely.

Ted Lasso was warm, and kind, and fun. He looked at a person like they mattered and listened with genuine interest. He made you feel like he’d have your back and believed in you.

Ted Lasso was exactly what I needed.

After chatting over drinks about our backgrounds and careers, delving into our shared deep love for sports and coaching, he finally broached the subject that had been plaguing me nonstop for what felt like an eternity.

“So. How’re you doing? With all this… hullabaloo?”

He was too kind and polite to even name the hell I was living in.

A grimace crossed my face as I lifted my beer to my lips, trying to delay answering the question for as long as possible while those patient eyes gazed at me. Finally, I had no choice but to fill the silence. “I am… okay,” I finally mumbled. “Trying to just focus on the team, you know?”

Ted nodded, watching me carefully. “I completely understand,” he hummed. “Well, I mean, not completely of course. It’s mighty unfair the way they talk about you. But…” He shrugged, giving a small pop with his mouth. “I mean, they weren’t exactly nice to me when I got here. The press, the team, hell, even Becca.” His face softened at those last couple of words. “But, eyes on the prize, as they say.” He patted my hand gently, a paternal touch I didn’t realize I needed. “Now, like I said, I don’t totally understand what you’re going through. But if you need someone who has some small idea, well, I’m here.”

“Thank you, Ted,” I murmured. “I really appreciate it.”

He shrugged, turning his attention to glance around the pub. “Anytime, Clementine.”

After a moment, I opened my mouth again. “I’ve just waited my whole life for this. To be a role model, more than a pretty face that runs fast. Sometimes that’s all I felt like back when I played. And being a coach, well everything depends on my brain, you know?” Ted’s understanding nod urged me on. “And I was finally doing it. I was winning, and because England actually gives some semblance of a crap about soccer, people started to know who I was. And then…” A big breath left my lungs. “And then this… thing happens, and it’s like nothing else matters. Olympic medals, World Cups, national titles, win streaks. Nope. Everyone thinks I’m just another Roy Kent girl.”

“You’re not just another Roy Kent girl,” Ted assured me. “It might feel like it, whatever that means, but you’re not. You’re Coach Buck, for Pete’s sake.” His smile warmed all the cold parts of my heart that had developed since Keeley first showed me the photos. “And it might feel like everyone thinks so, but I can tell you for a fact it’s not true.” He pulled out his phone and showed me the freckle-faced kid who took up his lock screen. “My boy has not stopped asking about you since I got here. Kid thinks you’re the absolute bee’s knees, Coach. He doesn’t care about these stupid headlines or what you do off the field. Heck, he even told me I should ask you for some coaching pointers.”

Beer nearly shot out of my nose as I let out a thankful laugh. “Ted Lasso, you have no idea how badly I needed to hear that.”

“Sure, I do.” He bumped his shoulder into mine. “Sometimes, ya just need a reminder about why we do what we do. To inspire other people to be their best selves.” He nodded towards his phone before pocketing it. “And you sure as heck inspire this kid. And I’m willing to bet he ain’t the only one.”

I stared at him for a moment. “You know… If you want, we could Facetime him while you’re here. If you think he’d like that, I mean.”

Lasso’s smile lit up the whole pub. “He’d love that, Coach.”

“Hey, Coach. Ready for that chat?”

A growl escaped Roy’s throat as Ted entered the empty office. “No,” he huffed, turning his attention back to the playbook on his desk.

Ignoring Roy’s scowl, not for the first time since they’d met, Ted plopped himself down on Beard’s desk, eyebrows raised. “I know what you need,” he announced, leaning over to grab the phone off Roy’s desk. “Better get some bones and treats, because I’m calling the Diamond Dogs.”

Before Roy could protest, Ted had called Higgins and texted Nate and Beard; almost instantly the office was filled with the sounds of howling and barking that Roy was sure anyone who was still in the building could hear. The men assembled, closing doors and perching themselves in chairs and against walls, eyes expectantly trained on Roy, as if they already knew the reason for this meeting.

When Roy glared at Ted, the American knew he’d have to get the ball rolling.

“Diamond Dogs,” he announced, “as y’all know, our favorite junkyard dog here has been goin’ through somethin’. I bet he could use some friendly ears to bark at.” He nodded to Roy. “Coach?”

There was no getting out of this. Roy knew that. So, he might as well get it over with.

“Yeah.” He turned his chair and plopped his feet on his desk, trying to keep up his uncaring demeanor. “You all fucking know. Fucking photos, fucking paparazzi and reporters, blah blah blah.” He nodded to Ted, whose face was stupidly supportive. “There. Done.”

Nate cleared his throat. “What about you and Coach Buck?”

It was probably the harshest scowl Roy had given in a long time. “What about me and Coach Buck?” His chest felt tight just saying her name out loud.

“Well…” Nate’s eyes were on the ceiling. “I mean, the two of you were getting kind of close, weren’t you? Before all this happened?” He seemed to shrink slightly under Roy’s glare. “Weren’t you?”

“We’re not close,” Roy spat. “So, dunno what there is to talk about.”

Beard sighed and narrowed his eyes at Roy. “How about we talk about how unhappy you’ve been ever since this all went down? How about we talk about the fact that you slept with her- don’t make that face at me, neither of you have denied it- and now you both look like the most miserable people in the world? Let’s talk about that.”

Before Roy could argue, Higgins cleared his throat. “Roy, have you tried, I don’t know, talking to the poor girl?”

Was there a way to renounce his membership from the fucking Diamond Dogs? “As a matter of fact, we have talked. And she wants nothing to do with me. So, again, what’s the point in any of this?”

Ted cleared his throat. “If I may, Coach, it sure didn’t look like she wanted nothing to do with ya when I saw y’all in the parking lot.” His face was soft. “She seemed pretty grateful for your help, actually. Did everything but call you her knight in shining armor when she told me about that paparazzo.”

Roy rolled his eyes, hating the blush on his face for betraying him. “Yeah, well, that’s about all I’m good for probably.” He stared at his shoes for a moment, scrunching his nose. “Just hate seeing her so fucking miserable,” he heard himself admit quietly. “It’s not really fair, this shit. All that ‘takes two to tango’ shit, but no one’s saying a word about me. It’s stupid as hell.” Dammit, he was ranting now. “And I just want to fucking fix everything but I can’t.”

“You could be her friend,” Ted said quietly. “It sounds like she could really use more of those right now.” He cleared his throat. “You know, I told her all about how Henry just really admires her- heck, I think there might be a little crush there too- and let me tell you, she looked so relieved to hear that. We actually FaceTimed him earlier today before he went to school, and man she was almost as jazzed as he was.” Ted shrugged.

Higgins nodded. “I think she just needs to feel supported and respected right now.” He cocked his head at Roy. “Just give her that, Roy. The rest will follow.”

“The fuck do you mean ‘the rest’-?”

The sound of a door opening had the men jumping. Through the window, Roy could see Buck stroll into her office, sipping her water bottle and looking at something on her phone. She froze, as if she could feel the eyes of the Diamond Dogs on her. She blinked several times when she looked up and saw the Greyhounds office filled with men staring. With her eyes on Roy, she gave a small, awkward wave before sitting at her desk and turning to her computer.

Ted smiled at Roy. “Diamond Dogs, dismissed.”

With soft barks and yaps, the men dispersed, ready to call it a day and go home. Roy sat at his desk, staring through that window, watching her type away. He thought about what they’d said; for some reason, he felt struck by Ted’s mention of Henry. Not quite sure what he was doing, Roy stood and approached the door that separated their offices. He opened it softly, raising his eyebrows when she turned around to look at him.

“Knock, knock,” he mumbled stupidly.

Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, but Roy would take what he could get. “Hey, Coach.” She wrinkled her nose. “What the fuck was all that barking?”

“Barking? What barking?” Roy entered the office and perched on Lucas’s desk, feigning ignorance as he stared at the too-pretty manager.

“Fine, don’t tell me,” she chuckled with an eyeroll. “Need something? I’m just trying to finish a couple emails before I head out.”

Roy studied her face for a moment. His gaze briefly flickered to her Brandi Chastain poster before returning to those eyes that made his insides squirm. “Would you want to come meet Phoebe’s football team?”

She blinked a few times. “Phoebe’s team?” she echoed.

He nodded, feeling good about himself for once. “Yeah. She asked me a while ago about inviting you, hasn’t shut up about you since the charity game actually.” He shrugged. “I think it’d be… fun.”

The hesitation in her eyes was heartbreaking. “Oh, I don’t know, Roy…” She bit her lip. “What if the parents don’t like me being there?”

Fuck, her voice was tiny. “If they don’t like the idea of a fucking Olympic champion watching their daughter’s football practice, they can deal with me,” he huffed. “What d’you say? Want to make me the coolest uncle in the world?”

“Well, in that case.” A genuine little smile graced her face. “Alright. Fine. I’m there.”

Leaving the Dog Track to go meet Roy and the girls’ team, I felt that familiar mixture of excitement and anxiety, the kind I got before games, or before an important meeting. It was a good feeling; I hadn’t had it in a while. My phone vibrating interrupted my reflecting on why this practice had me so wound-up.

“Hello?”

“Hey there.” I could hear Geroge’s smile through the phone. “I know it’s last minute, but I wanted to see if you’d want to grab dinner tonight?”

I cleared my throat as I started my walk towards the address Roy had given me. “Oh, sorry, not tonight, George. I’ve got plans.”

The disappointment in his voice was kind of sweet. “No problem. Anything exciting?”

Why did I feel weird telling him?

“Kent invited me to come meet his niece’s team,” I explained slowly. “So I’m heading on over to the school to go see their practice, say hello to the girls. Should be fun.” I tried to keep my voice light and casual, as if this was a totally normal thing to do.

Goerge was silent for a moment. “Oh. That’s lovely of you.” He cleared his throat. “Don’t you think it’s a little risky though? Being out like that? Someone might see the two of you, take some pictures…”

I passed a Whippets advertisement, one that had yet to be graffitied. “I mean, it’s a kids’ soccer practice. I doubt the press’ll be there,” I pointed out with a huffy chuckle. “And honestly, I don’t really care if anyone sees. What can they say about me visiting a girls’ team that they didn’t already say about me going into Roy Kent’s house?”

Another silence came, the same one that usually followed references to the fact that I’d slept with Roy; I hadn’t directly told George that I had, he hadn’t directly asked, but it wasn’t difficult to figure out. It was clearly not something George liked thinking about, and it was something I did my best to avoid bringing up. But for some reason, it slipped out now.

“Well,” he finally murmured. “I think you’ll have a good time. Should be a fun little evening with the kids… and Kent.” He paused. “Call me later?”

“Sure,” I hummed, hating the sinking feeling that I’d done something wrong. “Talk to you later.” I shoved my phone into my pocket and continued my walk, trying to ignore whatever that phone call was and focus instead on the evening ahead of me.

When I finally arrived at the school field, I realized my heart was hammering. It was kind of ridiculous; I’d done school visits and things like that. I’d spoken in front of crowds of students and young athletes. But for some reason, visiting one little girls’ soccer team had me feeling the way I did before stepping onto the field for the World Cup: anxious, unable to breathe.

But a high-pitched squeal immediately brought a smile to my face.

“Coach Buck!”

With a small wave, I approached the group of girls that were passing and warming up; immediately, I was tackled by a familiar blonde.

“Hey, Pheobe,” I chuckled, hugging her back. “How’ve you been?”

She beamed up at me. “Good! I’m so glad you came. I’ve been asking and asking Uncle Roy to invite you. And-”

“And she’s fucking here, ain’t she?” Roy wrapped an arm around Phoebe and shoved her aside. “Go warm up, you.” As Phoebe scampered away, he nodded to me. “Coach.”

I couldn’t help but smirk at him. “Coach.”

He cleared his throat, suddenly the picture of nervousness. “Right. So, I was thinking, I’d introduce you to the team, you could say a few words if you want, and maybe you could help run training? Unless you’d rather just watch. Either way’s fine with me.”

“I’d love to help.”

His face turned relieved. “Great.” He turned towards the group of girls, who were more interested in us than in their warmup. “Oi! Huddle up!” As soon as the girls were gathered around, Roy nodded curtly at me. “This here’s Coach Buck. She manages the Richmond Whippets. And, in case Phoebe here hasn’t already told you, she’s a World Cup champion and has an Olympic gold medal.” The excited buzzing from the girls had me fighting a smile- and it looked like Roy was fighting one too. “She wanted to come say hello to you all and help with practice. Sound good?”

“Yes, Coach!”

Roy raised an eyebrow at me. “Coach?”

With a deep breath, I took a step forward, willing myself to gaze at the little faces staring back with solemn expressions of excitement and awe. “Hello, ladies,” I greeted, putting on my best smile. “Roy- Coach Kent- has told me that you are probably the best team he coaches.” Their little giggles began to put me at ease. “And I am so excited to get to hang out with you today and see what you’ve got!”

The next hour was the best one I’d had since I moved to England- probably one of the best hours of my entire life. The girls were more than talented- they were enthusiastic, fierce, passionate, determined, fearless, everything I remembered being at their age. They played as if there was no such thing as losing or getting hurt. Every mistake was an opportunity to get better, every success was meant to be exceeded. By the end of practice, I knew every girl’s name and felt a tug in my heart when they called me “Coach”.

“Uncle Roy,” Phoebe hummed as he gathered the team at the end of practice. “Can we try to get past you?”

Roy glanced in my direction before shrugging. “You girls really want to play?”

The resounding YES had me wondering what ‘getting past’ Roy meant. As if she could sense my curiosity, Phoebe tugged my hand.

“You’re going to love this, Coach Buck,” she gushed. “It’s our favorite!”

The girls lined up, bouncing with excitement, while Roy grabbed a ball and jogged towards one of the goals made of a couple of cones. With the ease of someone who’d done this dozens of times, he rolled the ball to Kokoruda, who was first in line. She immediately began dribbling towards Roy and made a respectable attempt to score on the experienced player.

“Next!” he barked after kicking the ball out of bounds.

One by one, the girls tried to score on Roy; and each one failed.

“You don’t go easy on them?” I probed as I trotted over to Roy to return another ball to him.

He caught the ball with ease. “Fuck no,” he chuckled. “Their opponents won’t ever go easy on ‘em, will they? Why should I?”

Before I could concede that he had a point, Phoebe called out, “Coach Bucky! You should try!”

With a smirk, Roy tossed the ball back to me. “Yeah, Coach Bucky. You should try.”

Maybe it was being around the girls, maybe it was the cockiness on Roy Kent’s face. Maybe it was something else. “Fine, I’ll try,” I shot back, taking my place at the front of the line. I looked at the girls. “Any of you ever get it past him?” When they all shook their heads, my grin grew. “Well, guess he’s due for a loss then.”

I stood with my foot on top of the ball for a moment, just staring down Roy Kent. He narrowed his eyes playfully, a smile almost breaking through his serious glare. With a deep breath, I began dribbling, wondering when I had last just played like this. Roy jogged out to meet me, expertly trying to get the ball out of my control. We moved this way, that way; I was a bit surprised how well I was doing against him, if I was being honest.

“Not going easy on me, are you Kent?” I huffed, very aware of the way his body pressed against mine as he tried to steal the ball from behind me.

“Not a fucking chance,” he assured me, his breath tickling my neck.

With what I hoped was a casual chuckle, I found my opening, evading Roy and making my way towards the goal, a smaller target than I was used to. As I inched forward, I felt a pair of hands brush my sides, warm and playful.

Phoebe’s giggling voice interrupted the reeling in my head. “Uncle Roy, that’s a foul!”

“Right!” came a gruff voice behind me, laughing as the hands disappeared.

Able to return my focus to the ball at my feet, I sprinted forward, ankle be damned, and broke away from Roy; the ball sailed between the cones with ease, giving me that old, thrilling feeling of scoring a goal. When I turned around, the girls were cheering- and Roy was smiling at me.

“My knee’s fucked,” he huffed jokingly between breaths, hands on his hips as he approached. “That was hardly fair.”

I quirked an eyebrow at him as we started to walk back towards the team. “Oh, and what would you call my ankle?”

His smile widened. “Also fucked.”

Before I could snark back, the girls tackled me with hugs and shouts, clearly impressed that anyone could get past their burly coach. Roy eyed me over their heads, his face soft, reminding me of the night of the gala. All I could do was grin back at him, wondering if he felt the same warmth in his chest that I felt.

Roy dismissed his team, reminding them about their upcoming game, one they begged me to come watch. To my shock, a few parents stopped me to shake my hand and ask if they could get a picture of me with their daughter; that warm feeling in my chest grew with each “My daughter adores you!” or “It’s so cool that you came!” The whole time, Roy and Phoebe collected the equipment, with Phoebe watching me with great interest.

As the last of the girls left, I meandered over to the coach and his niece, stopping when I found myself looking into those brown eyes.

“Thanks, Kent,” I said, wondering if he could hear the thick emotion in my voice. “This… this was exactly what I needed.”

His eyes sparkled. “What, a bunch of little girls worshipping you?”

A snort escaped when I tried to hold back my laughter. “They didn’t worship-”

“Fuck off,” he chuckled, giving me a soft punch in the arm. “They fucking adored you. You’re their queen or some shit. Seriously-” He bobbled his head playfully. “-they’re probably planning a coup to get rid of me so you can be their coach.” He pointed to Pheobe, who was hovering nearby, obviously anxious to interrupt our conversation. “And that little traitor will be leading the fucking cavalry.” He waved her over. “Come say goodnight, Phoebe.”

Phoebe wrapped her arms around me, giving a squeeze. “Thank you for coming,” she gushed before letting go. “You know I have your poster in my room?” Her smile was full of pride. “I told Uncle Roy I wanted one, so he got one for me. It’s right above my dresser, so I can see it when I get ready for football.”

My jaw dropped slightly as my gaze shifted between Phoebe and Roy, who shrugged at me. Before I could think of something to say, he opened his mouth.

“I’ll make you a deal, Pheebs,” he started, eyes fixated on me. “You score in our next match, I’ll take you to see the Whippets, and we can ask very nicely if Coach Buck here will sign your poster.”

A lump formed in my throat when I saw the delight on Phoebe’s face. “Yeah,” I managed to choke out as I blinked back tears. “I could do that.”

There was a dull ache in Roy’s knee when he arrived at the Dog Track early the next morning, but it was a hell of a lot better than the sharp pain in his chest that seemed to be slowly disappearing. He figured he’d pop into the treatment room, grab some ice and baby his knee before getting ready for training.

When he walked through the door, he realized he wasn’t the only one that needed some tending to.

There she was, leg propped up on a chair, ice on her ankle as she scrolled on her phone. Her head snapped up at the sound of the door opening, and her face broke into one of those perfect smiles when she saw it was Roy. Without a word, they both started chuckling, almost relieved to see that the other had also overdone it the night before.

“Guess you meant it when you said you weren’t going easy on me,” she mused, watching Roy grab himself an ice pack.

He chuckled and rolled up his trackpants to expose his knee, flinching slightly as the cold touched his bare skin. “You’d fucking kill me if I did,” he pointed out. “It’d be fucking insulting.” After a moment of silence, staring at each other’s injuries, Roy opened his mouth again. “I’ll be at your game tonight,” he murmured, hoping he sounded casual.

Instead of the surprised look he expected, he swore he saw pleasure on her face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He let his eyes linger on her face. “I know the guys’ve been trying to go to as many matches as possible to show their support. Told Sam and Jamie I’d be joining them tonight. Richmond til we die, right?”

“Richmond til we die,” she repeated, her soft smile nearly stopping Roy’s heart.

Their quiet moment was interrupted by the door opening again. Rebecca stood with her hand on the doorknob, eyebrows raised at the sight of her two managers grinning at each other and icing their injuries.

“Good morning, coaches,” she greeted in a light voice, eyebrows raising slightly higher when she locked eyes with Roy before turning to the Whippets manager. “Just wanted to check in, I know you’ve got a long day. Match is at six, I believe some of the Greyhounds will be there again-”

Roy couldn’t resist piping up. “We will be.”

Rebecca didn’t bother hiding her smile as she went on. “After the match, Keeley will take Lucas to the press room, and you and I can-”

This time, the other manager interrupted her. “No.”

“No?” Rebecca blinked.

“Fuck it,” she sighed, sitting up and tossing her ice pack aside. “This is my team, right? I’m doing the press conference. Luke has covered for me long enough.”

Rebecca tilted her head sympathetically. “Are you sure?”

For a moment, those eyes turned to Roy, silently asking for his thoughts, as though his opinion mattered to her. When he gave her the tiniest, almost unnoticeable nod, she looked back at Rebecca, head held high. “Hell yeah.”

Roy had chosen the right match to come to, he realized. A 4-0 win to move into first place had him grinning with the Greyhounds as they cheered on the Whippets before they disappeared back into the tunnel. For a moment, he locked eyes with Buck, who tapped her fingers to her temple, giving Roy’s signature little salute. He saluted back, ignoring the grin on Jamie’s face. Maybe, just maybe, the two managers could grab a drink together to celebrate her win. Roy’s treat, of course. She’d more than earned it.

But first, she had a press conference to give. The Whippets and Greyhounds, intent on celebrating together, assembled in the weight room and gathered around the televisions on the wall. Roy stood right in front, Jamie by his side, eyes glued to the screen as she took her seat, red lips curled into a perfect smile.

Initially, the questions were typical post-match queries: how did she feel about the performance, what did she have to say about this error, how thrilling was that goal. And she handled them all with ease, reminding Roy of that first press conference he’d watched, where he couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. But now, instead of a scowl, he almost wore a smile watching her, and he finally understood why his heart was hammering so hard. Yeah, this was good. She was good.

Until the questions weren’t good.

“Roy Kent was in the stands today,” one reporter called out. “Any thoughts on that?”

Her smile faltered as her eyes shifted away from the crowd in front of her. “Oh. Yes, the Greyhounds have been great in showing their support for the Whippets.” Her smile returned, though not as confident as before. “We’re overdue to cheer them on, so keep an eye out for us at their next match!”

Another question came at her. “What is your relationship with Roy now?”

She cleared her throat. “All the coaches here at Richmond have a great respect and fondness for one another. We’re lucky to have two great staffs that work together so well. It’s how we get wins like the one we had today, on both the men’s and women’s sides.”

Roy felt his face burn, along with several pairs of eyes staring at him. He didn’t care that she avoided the question; it was the same non-answer Keeley had given him to spout out whenever he got asked the same thing. It was the way the question came out, accusatory and aggressive, that had him frowning.

“Does your dominant personality play a role in your relationship with Roy Kent?”

There was no denying the way she scrunched her nose, fully understanding the implication. “Again, all of us coaches hold each other in high regard and have great professional relationships. Now, if you want to talk dominance, out there on the field today, Kira-”

“Speaking of Kira Malone,” a gruff voice interrupted. “She was recently seen at a pub with Jamie Tartt. Do you think your affair with Roy Kent has made the Whippets think it’s okay to run around with the Greyhounds? Is that professional?”

She began sputtering for the first time. “I would hardly call it an affair- But honestly, they’re adults, they’re professionals, I honestly-”

“And you were spotted with Ted Lasso recently,” another voice called out. “Can we assume you’ve moved on from Roy Kent?”

Her eyes widened, but she tried to recover her cool. “Coach Lasso’s a great coach. I-”

A harsh laugh rang out of the speakers. “Yeah, what does Kent think of your relationship with his ex-manager?”

Roy took a step towards the door; he knew that running into that press room would make things worse, would be a headline every paper would be running in the morning, but he didn’t give a fuck. His whole body was burning with fury as he listened to them challenge and fucking laugh at her.

A hand clasped his shoulder; Jamie was shaking his head, eyes full of sympathy, as if he too wanted to rush in and rescue her. But they both knew that she needed to do this on her own.

“Oi, is Roy why you always wear that red lipstick? Should we expect to see it on his collar sometime?”

She looked small, so impossibly small, not at all like the woman Roy had been fighting with and falling for all these months. Her defiance disappeared under their demeaning questions, her fierceness was stolen by their laughter, her cockiness was stifled by their mockery.

“What kind of example do you think you’re setting for the girls of Richmond? Sleeping with Roy Kent and all?”

That seemed to be the question that knocked the fight out of her.

“Oh, fuck this,” Roy growled, tugging out his phone. He quickly typed six little words, the first text message he’d ever sent her.

Don’t you fucking dare play nice.

Her eyes flickered to her phone, eyebrows raising; Roy knew she’d gotten his message. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting them continue to shout and shame her. Finally, she sat up tall, jaw set, and stared down the crowd in front of her.

“You know what?” she asked, her voice low and gravely. “Fuck these questions you keep asking me.” Roy was sure he heard Keeley squeak on the television. “You’re not asking Roy Kent these questions. You’re not asking if he’s a good role model. You’re not questioning his ability to manage his team.” She shook her head. “What message am I sending to young girls? Really? How about what message are you sending?”

Roy was sure it was Kira Malone’s voice behind him calling out, “Fuck yeah, Buck!”

She sat up taller now. “I am a fucking Olympian. I am a champion coach. I have won more titles and trophies and medals than this entire building combined.”

“Tell ‘em, Coach!” Jamie laughed, nodding up at her face onscreen.

Roy’s mind wandered, of all places, to his niece. To the way she adored that loud, abrasive woman, a woman who was standing up for girls like Phoebe. A lump formed in his throat as he listened; fuck, he might actually fucking cry. And he didn’t care if the Greyhounds saw the tears in his eyes. He didn’t even care about the way Jamie was staring at him; he was too enraptured by the scene unfolding on the television.

“I chose to sleep with a nice man one time, and suddenly all my accomplishments don’t matter? Who cares about Olympic gold when you’ve gone to bed with Roy Kent? What defines me is who I go home with? What message is that for the daughters of Richmond? You’re telling your girls that their accomplishments and dreams are nothing compared with what they do in the bedroom. No.” Her eyes were hard and steely as she shook her head. “Fuck this. I’m done. If I wanted to go and sleep with Roy Kent tonight, that’s my own damn business. If I wanted to sleep with any other man, or woman, or whoever, that’s my business.”

Shouts of agreement echoed through the weight room, from both Whippets and Greyhounds. A smile crept across Roy’s lips; fuck, she was incredible. If he wasn’t in love before, he definitely was now.

“What example am I setting for the girls of Richmond?” she asked with a dry laugh. “Not letting jackasses like you question our worth because of a man. That’s the example I’m setting. So if you’re here to ask about my sex life, you can fuck right off. It’s not up for debate, not anymore. It’s not what we’re talking about, now or ever. What I’m here to talk about is the fact that the Whippets are in first place and are expected to finish in the top three in our first damn season. How about you ask me about that?”

My heartbeat throbbed in my ears as I stood up, only vaguely registering the female reporters and handful of men who also stood, clapping and calling out words of support. I grabbed my phone and rushed out of the press room, not bothering to look at Keeley and Rebecca; I’d apologize to them later. I’d do whatever Keeley needed me to do to spin this. I’d offer to do whatever public appearances Rebecca demanded.

But first, I needed to get to my office to hyperventilate in peace.

As my feet did their job, carrying me down the halls, I became aware of the sound of… clapping? Cheering?

When I turned the last corner that would take me to the changing room, I finally stopped in my tracks.

Lining the hall were both Richmond teams, a beautiful jumble of smiles and applause and cheers, all watching me with affection. Suddenly, I found myself smothered with hugs and kisses and handshakes. Kira held me close, whispering in my ear about how proud she was to play for me; Jamie Tartt kissed my forehead and called me a bad-ass; over and over, Greyhounds and Whippets embraced me and offered their love and support.

By the time I reached the locker room, tears were freely streaming down my face, releasing all the emotion I’d been holding back in the press room; hell, all the emotion I’d been holding back since Keeley first showed me the photos of me and Roy.

The Greyhounds coaches stood in front of the locker room, pride shining on their faces. Beard and Nate each held me tight, murmuring about how amazed they were. Finally, Roy stood in front of me, his eyes watery as he gazed down at me.

“Welcome back, Coach,” he hummed, sticking out his hand.

I grasped his hand, shaking it firmly, unable to hold back my tearful smile. “Good to be back, Coach,” I murmured. I gave his hand a squeeze before letting go. “And thank you,” I whispered.

He shook his head softly. “Anytime.”

A pair of arms wrapped around me; Lucas was hugging me, tighter than anyone else had. “I’m so proud of you,” he choked out, crying almost as hard as I was. “So fucking proud, kid.”

With one last look at Roy, I let Lucas steer me into our office, listening to him chatter about how much he loved my little speech. I collapsed in my chair and laughed, from disbelief that I had just done that. My phone went off; George.

“Hey!” I exclaimed, wiping my face. “Did ya see me?”

“What the hell, Buck?” he hissed. “You just made things so much harder on yourself. They’re not going to forgive you for this. They’re not going to like you after this. Trust me, I know these people.”

When Lucas saw the way my face fell, he gave my shoulder a squeeze and left, figuring I needed some privacy.

I hunched over my desk and clutched my phone to my face. “To be honest, George, I don’t think I care if they like me. They don’t respect me, so why do I care if they think I’m nice?” I shook my head. “I’m proud of myself, actually. And so is my team. And so are the Greyhounds.” And so is Roy Kent, a little voice in the back of my head whispered.

He paused. “It was good,” he sighed. “You sounded great. Honestly, it was a great ‘girl power’ moment.” There was another moment of quiet on his end before his voice turned thoughtful. “You know, I bet we could do a great article about this. Give your side of things, talk all about the slut-shaming and double standards-”

“Didn’t you listen to what I said?” I scoffed, sensing someone approaching my office. “I’m fucking done talking about this. I’m not answering questions about this, ever again. Everyone knows I had sex with Roy Kent, that’s more than they need to know. I don’t owe anyone anything else.”

“Right.” He cleared his throat. “Why don’t we grab a late dinner? Could, I dunno, celebrate your win or something.”

For the first time since we met, I had no interest in seeing George Willows. “Not tonight,” I muttered. “I just… want to go home. Sleep. Avoid Twitter.” I finally turned, realizing it was, of all people, Roy hovering in my doorway. “Listen, I gotta go. I’ll call you tomorrow.” Not waiting for a reply, I hung up, tossing my phone on my desk before turning my chair around, raising my eyebrows teasingly at Roy. “Need something? Or are you going to send me another inspiring text message?”

He stared at me, mouth open like he was about to speak. Finally, he just shook his head and let out a breathy chuckle. “Fuck,” he breathed, stepping further into my office. “You… you were fucking something today, you know that?”

I shook my head and stood up, meeting him in the middle of the room. “Kent-”

“No.” He smirked at me. “Take the fucking compliment.” He shrugged. “I just wanted to tell you I was… really impressed today.” He cleared his throat. “On the field. In the press room. You’re a fucking great manager.” He let out a deep breath, eyes shifting around the office. “Don’t think I’ve told you that, and I’m sorry I haven’t.” He met my gaze, his smirk becoming a smile. “And I am very glad Phoebe has someone like you to look up to. So… that’s it, I guess.”

Roy Kent was looking at me with admiration. Roy Kent, who’d hated me and screamed at me. Roy Kent, who’d slept with me. Roy Kent, who asked me to speak to a girls’ soccer team. Roy Kent.

Roy Kent, who I wrapped my arms around and pulled into a hug. Not giving a shit about anything outside my tiny office, I pressed my body close to his, squeezing him tight. I buried my face in his shoulder, letting my tear-stained face dampen his Greyhounds shirt. His words, the look on his face, they were exactly what I needed.

His hands hovered over my hips, not returning the embrace, and I could hear him clear his throat, the vibration rumbling against my chest. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Immediately regretting my impulsive action, I pulled back, positive my face was bright red. “Shit,” I mumbled, my mind reeling from the roller coaster of emotions I was having tonight. “Sorry, I-”

Suddenly, I was pulled back to Roy’s chest, his arms wrapped tightly around my waist. I swore he sighed when my arms returned to his neck, and when my head hit his chest, I could hear his heart pounding, just as hard as I knew mine was. We stood there, hugging, wrapped up in whatever little world we were in, away from the press and the rumors and the judgement.

Just me and Roy.

Taglist: @optimisticsandwichgladiator@reading-blogs@callmecasey81@ladygrey03@puckyou-forpuckssake@royalestrellas@shineforever19 @rae4725 @burnafter-reading @her-fandom-sanctum @infinetlyforgotten@giggling-sewer-ginger@whataloadofmalarkey@agentstarkid@kingleahhh@tortilla-maria1@geekgirl1996 @amatswimming @meg-ro@spicyraccoonlordking@spaghetti-dad187@needlesthreadandbuttons@elissaaa @imsoluckyeverythingworksoutforme @reverieisaway@djskakakaksjsj-blog@thatonedogwithablog@allthetroubleiveseen@sunderland-6 @netflix-addict @paranormal-is-my-life@jill2629-blog@itsbuzzfeedbitch@pretzelactivist@amieinghigh@kashee-h@beingalive1@mythicalbinicorn@needyomega@kno-way-home@janalustare@sssatorus@its-a-rich-mans-world@confessionsofatotaldramaslut@hesitant-alien33@katie-sheep-111 @bonesbonesetc @seacactusplant@thebookwormlife @dreamscape22 @rae4725 @timelordhunterandmysterysolver@littleesilvia @anonurs @itswhateveripromise @chewymoustachio @gcidrvsh @katdahlali @ohwauwdoritos @lemoonandlestars

#roy kent something there #he's here he's there he's every fucking where #roy kent #roy kent x reader #roy kent fanfic #roy kent fic #roy kent fanfiction #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fic

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the-scooby-gang · 1 year

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Character assassination and delayed puberty: VelmaHBO mishandling of Fred Jones

As I write the "I watched Velma HBO so you don't have too" reviews for episode 1 and 2, I decided to post this thought process I had regarding Fred's mischaracterization and, specifically, about the choice of giving him delayed puberty.

In the show, Mindy Kaling's self insert (because that ain't Velma in this or in the next life) comes to the conclusion that Fred is such a "spoiled white privileged brat" that his body didn't see the point of growing up at all.

First of all: Fuck that

Second of all: Whose brilliant idea (we all know who, but lets pretend for a second here) was it to turn FRED JONES: cheerleader; net lover; circus enjoyer; himbo friend; golden retriever sunshine boy and "I love my friends and my van so much you guys" into THIS?!?!

Is it because he is white, blond and has blue eyes???? Because it would be easy to make him into a caricature of white supremacy???

Yes. That's exactly why they changed Fred. Because it was easy.

I will go deeper on this in the full review of episode 1 and 2 (god help me) but this whole show is written in the most lazy way possible with jokes that would have fit perfectly in a edgy early 2000s show, where characters become those straw men versions of liberals conservatives IMAGINE exist.

Where people of color complain all the time about white supremacy but don't go deeper into it, its just complaining for the sake of complaining;

Where they bring genuine arguments people make but with zero nuance or though behind them, instead the writers put what THEY imagine it is about and, 99.9% of the time, they attribute it to people being "tOo sEnSiTiVe" and " tRiGgErEd SnOwFlAkEs"

Where people blow things out of proportion and accuse people left and right of being fascists (when they call Fred "Hitler" the background character says "he looks like Hitler. And I'm not just saying that because we call anyone Hitler nowadays") completely disregarding the WHY people in real life are calling out fascist behavior when they see it. Hello rise of fascism happening on the world, how is the INVASION OF CAPITOL IN AMERICA and THE INVASION AND DEPREDATION OF THE PLANALTO IN BRAZIL going for you?!;

This show is Family Guy. I would say it's worse than Family Guy even.

Third of all: Delayed puberty is an Actual Thing That Happens To People. It's something that can happen at random or it can be a genetic disorder shared in the family. It can be a symptom of something way more serious or something benign.

Many people that suffer from delayed puberty suffer from low self esteem because they have to watch their friends grow and develop when the same thing's not happening to them. They may feel like they're never going to catch up.

People are bullied over this, people develop depression.

And now these people are the punch line of this mean spirited joke.

I can even envision a better show where Fred still has delayed puberty, but instead of being the butt of jokes where people keep commenting on the size of the penis of this HIGH SCHOOLER, they treat as the constitutional delay it is. Fred is a late bloomer. It may be caused by a pattern of growth and development in his family, it may be a chronic illnesses he has. Can you imagine Fred with something like asthma or diabetes?

Lets go with that, lets imagine a Fred with diabetes, who is not receiving a proper treatment for said diabetes (maybe because his parents subscribe to that style of parenting where they are more concerned about appearances than the well being of their kid. "No, he has no problem. He is a perfectly healthy Jones."

Or they are the kind that say shit like this: "He doesn't have blurry vision he is just a lazy student, that's an excuse," or "You would stop going so much to the bathroom to piss if you stoped drinking water all the time" or even "I told you to not stay awake all night on those weird net making websites, now you're tired in class. What kind of mother they must think I am..." "But I didn't stay up all night, I swear–" "Don't you lie to me Frederick") and as such the side effects and symptoms are left unchecked.

So the Fred Velma, and we the audience, are introduced too is the heir of this fortune... who can't stay standing because he is constantly tired, has completely given up on trying to apply himself on school because he can't see the fucking board his vision is so blurry, has passed out at least once in gym, drinks water like he lives in a dessert and is so self conscious about his body that even his girlfriend hasn't seen him shirtless even once. The swim team hasn't seen him shirtless even once, so there are these whiplash inducing photos in the year book where is a bunch of guys in speedos nest to this one dude in an early 20th century striped swimming suit.

In episode 1 itself Velma's vision of Fred can start biased, after all from a distance a person that doesn't know Fred personally can chalk his behavior to "rich dramatic boy that knows he doesn't need to put effort into learning since he already has a fortune guaranteed for him after all this, so he is just sleeping and vibing and being dramatic through high school" but as the episode progresses and she gets to know Fred, she notices that the image doesn't fit. Fred, who has such in depth knowledge about physics and mechanics, who clearly loves his girlfriend very much and feels bad about the murder of this girl he considered a friend. The image of "Rich guy that doesn't care" is not fitting.

I want it to be a Velma and Daphne epiphany. About Daphne talking about all these things Fred has told her or that she noticed about him to Velma as they look for clues and it hits Velma as a she connects all together. The tiredness, the pissing, the thirst, the blurry vision.

Daphne may have not seen it because she is too close but with Velma's outside perspective the pieces fall into place.

Now lets imagine that instead of cop lesbian moms, Daphne could have lesbian doctor/nurse moms. They take him to them and they give him what he desperately needed:

"No, dear. You're not lazy, or broken, or an attention seeker, or any other bullshit your parents called you. You have diabetes. Type 1 to be precise."

After Daphne and Velma hug a crying Fred until he has no more tears to give, the series progresses with Fred now treating his diabetes as one of its recurring plot lines.

I want Daphne to have extra insulin in her purse, I want Shaggy to help Fred with his new diet, I want Fred and Velma to go exercising together and have deep conversations about body image and how they deal with it (Fred with his delayed puberty, Velma with her extra weight)

"Mature" and "Adult" content doesn't need to be edgy sex-violence-and-drugs.

It can be simply a story of a high schooler having to deal with diabetes in a country were insulin is expensive as fuck, some parents are more willing to let their kids suffer than offer any kind of help or even admit that there may be a problem in the first place, of dealing with body image and things that are out of your control.

Just a thought.

This is a post by The-Scooby-Gang, thanks for coming to my TED Talk.

#scooby gang #scooby doo #hbo velma #fred jones #velma dinkley #daphne blake #shaggy rogers #velma by me #this also applies to my rewrite ideas for this show #i watched velma hbo so you dont have too #gih says #long post

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qqtxt · 7 months

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[🎈] mutual pda [🐰]

[!] this is for the 1k followers mini fics. click here to find out more! ✿ pairing: soobin x reader / idol!txt / non.idol!you / fluff / 485 words ✿ request: [kiss] + soobin (for one muse to put butterfly kisses all over the other's face) ✿ note: eek! this made me feel ; w ; just imagining this for our sweet ol' soobs. [main masterlist 🌸] / [event masterlist] / [tag: #qqtxt: 1k]

there are plenty of things in life that soobin enjoys and things that soobin absolutely despises. yet, when it came to you, it seemed like some things he thought he hated would borderline thread along the things he loves (even though he might not seem like it). he's not a big fan of receiving the attention but he'll gladly take all that you have to offer. he's low–low, low, low–key on public displays of affection but he has the urge to constantly show people that you two were meant to be; like two pieces that fit together perfectly.

so in the middle of game night with the boys–truth or dare–and you receive a dare from the boys to give soobin plenty of kisses? boy, he was not prepared for the somersaults his stomach was doing the minute you grabbed his face with a cheeky grin to your face.

if there was a balance in life, there's definitely a balance in your relationship with soobin. there are times when you'd be shy and he'd be bold (like that one time he has zero hesitation in pulling you in for a kiss at a party or how he 'casually' slides his arm around your waist when a stranger is either oblivious or being sly in declining your rejection to buying you a drink...) then there are moments like now where you're confident in showing him you have no issues of being affectionate on cue–whether it was for the sake of lowering the blow of both people being embarrassed and instead just submit one–it was like he's the only person that mattered to you (and it was).

the boys cheering (half-gagging) in the background disappears when soobin gasps at the feeling of your hands cupping the sides of his face. the last thing he sees before his eyes snap shut at the way you tug him forward as you lunge across the table is your smile that somehow makes him feel comforted and like he's about to melt into a puddle.

all he feels is the love being showered all over him in tiny pecks on his face. from the giddy feeling he gets from feeling your lips on his eyelids, to his cheeks, over his nose, down to his lips for a sneaky peck or two before you continue the malicious, dangerous attack to his heart with more kisses over his face.

then, it stops.

and he doesn't know if he's upset that it's over or that there are people here watching. what he does know is the inevitable force that pushes him forward to give you a quick kiss that officially annihilates the rest of the group when hollers and screaming fills the room; accompanying that shy smile you have on your face that soobin gets to see up-close as he leans back, mirroring you with a smile on his face despite the chaos going on.

#qqtxt: 1k #txt scenarios #txt scenario #txt reactions #txt reaction #txt x you #txt x reader #soobin x reader #soobin scenarios #soobin x you #soobin x y/n #txt x y/n

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masterofengene · 10 months

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heyy , could you do &team reactions to their s/o having trouble with sleeping ? thanks a lot

&team with an s/o who has trouble sleeping.

Warnings: none

Okay so he gives off the vibe that he has trouble sleeping as well, maybe occasionally.

He is gonna be a sweetheart about it.

He knows you need sleep and he knows it's what is good for your body so he is gonna try every way he knows how to get you to sleep.

Essential oils. Massages. Soft music playing throught the room.

He makes it his mission to get you to fall asleep.

"I know you can't sleep...but you have that big assignment tomorrow and you need the rest...."

Plays with your har until you fall asleep (unless he falls asleep first, his methods are very affective.

He doesn't want you to take melatonin, instead he wants to find a natural way for you to sleep.

Fuma

He may be the most fit one in &team. But TRUST he turns into your own personal pillow.

In his mind, cuddles are the solution to any problem (he's right)

He's gonna put on your favorite show with the volume down low, turn the lights out.

Then cuddle.

He's gonna spoon you so he can feel when your breathing evns out, or have you lay on his chest.

He says it's because he wants to make sure you fall asleep but really it helps him fall asleep more than you.

Hums tunes in your ears until you relax and rubs your back

Nicholas

Honestly, I feel like he has a hard time sleeping as well.

So really the nights you spend together, you guys might not even sleep.

Because you both know that your brains won't slow down enough for you to sleep so you both just...don't sleep

Instead you guys stay up just talking about your day and just playing around until the exhaustion finally wears on you two

If you guys have something important the next day. Pillow fight.

Pillow fights exhaust both of you so quickly. You could just wage war on each other for 15 minutes then boom.

Sleeping babies.

Okay so deep breath.

I feel like he would take a logical approach and do things that he knows bores you, or that you don't find entertaining.

Puts on a nature documentary.

"What? It's educational!"

He isnt even into it, but he knows you'll be so bored you'll fall asleep

Evil genius.

Certified evil genius

Lights a candle that he knows you like.

Random background noises.

Whale noises (clearly those don't work)

Eventually you fall asleep while he is reading the encyclopedia to you

Yuma

He's gonna have you drinking herbal tea that has no caffeine.

He won't do much else to help you sleep, just pull you in for snuggles and sing for you tbh.

He's gonna make sure that everything around you is calm and serene. If maki tries to come in and disturb your slumber he's throwing the nearest object at him.

Be prepared to be the little spoon. He's gonna cuddle you for days.

If he notices you tired one day, he is gonna try and get you to take a nap. Even if it's just a 15 minute power nap.

He knows how important sleep is.

Frowns when he sees you chugging an energy drink.

To be honest. I get the vibes that he doesn't sleep that well.

I feel like he's the type that stays up all night to play video games or watch anime.

You both don't realize how bad your sleep schedules are until you two stayed up until 6 in the morning and fuma walked in looking like he was ready to strangle you both for staying up all night.

From then on you two try not to stay the night with each other, because your bad sleep feeds off each other.

You two can only spend the night together once a week for the sake of your eye bags.

Gucci eye bags

Designer eye bags

Harua

He's not going to nag you into getting sleep.

He reminds you about once a week that you need to try and get a better sleep schedule going.

When he notices that you're staying up way too late, he's going to start texting you every night that it's bed time.

He's trying okay. But he doesn't want to see annoying or bother you.

If he notices that you're struggling to stay awake, he will try to get you to a place where you can relax as soon as he can.

"Please start trying to slep better...always being awake isnt a good thing."

Taki

To be honest I feel like he has just as bad a sleep schedule as you do.

Like it's just because he started training to be an idol so young so he just couldn't help it.

He was used to late nights anyway so he always had trouble falling asleep.

So when he met you you're two sleep schedules sort of fed into each other.

It was like an understood "my body won't let me fall asleep"

So you two just filled your nights with telling each other stories either over the phone or in person.

You two would just talk about your day until you finally fell asleep.

Maki

Okay. He straight up doesn't care. At all.

He knows you and he knows how to help.

If you say "I can't sleep." He won't listen because yes you can.

He knows his voice is calming to you. You told him so. So when he notices you're restless he comes to cuddle.

He does it so Inconspicuously that you don't even notice his master plan.

Lulling you to sleep with good cuddles and whatever rambled comes to mind. Sometimes he serenaded you in German (even if you have no idea what he said)

He just talks. He let's everything come out at once.

#&team #&team fluff #&team imagines #&team jo #&team maki #&team scenarios #&team taki #&team nicholas #yuma &team #&team fuma #ej &team

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mikanotes · 1 year

Text

— shut up

banda x gn!reader | shortfic

genre: established relationship, no borderlands au

warnings: implied obsessive behavior and jealousy, alcohol usage, someone flirts w reader, banda himself /j, not rly proofread

author’s note: have something while i try to write a long banda fic!!! i’m trying rlly aaa

The bar you had decided to go to with your college classmates was getting more crowded as the night passed by. You tapped the glass of wine on the counter next to where you sat, gaze wavering blankly. You were getting tired and your classmates were showing no signs of feeling that way at all, still dancing and laughing with random people. You weren’t mad at them for leaving you there— If anything, you were glad.

The hangout had started out calmly, talking about classes and other things over drinks at the bar. You had expected them to start leaving at the sight of an attractive person looking at them a certain way or whenever the alcohol in their system pushed them out of their seats and onto the dance-floor. You liked your friends as much as anyone would, but the calmness was much appreciated.

You were pleased with the distance between all the noise and the bar counter itself, giving the impression of it all being background noise while you waited for someone to deign come back and finally say they wanted to leave.

You pulled out your phone in the meantime, checking the texts you’d sent a few minutes prior when you realized you didn’t feel like staying there anymore to see if you’d gotten a reply.

“Hey.”

You looked up at the sound of someone speaking to you. A man that looked around your age and felt just slightly familiar. You furrowed your eyebrows and tried to put a name on him— To no avail. Class, maybe? You didn’t know.

“Hi.” you greeted, more blank than you intended, “Need anything?”

The man seemed nervous. “Uh, we have classes together. Like, um, art history.” he stumbled over his words a little, then chuckled. “Sorry, I just… I’ve been interested in you for a while, and my friends convinced me to go ask you out once we saw you here… Can I… Have your number?”

You blinked. “No.” then chuckled to yourself and realized there was no need to be this cold, “I have a boyfriend. Sorry I didn’t recognize you, I don’t pay much attention to people in that class.”

“Ah, I get it, it’s pretty complicated, you have to focus a lot. Um, anyways, I didn��t mean to bother you, I’m sorry. I’ll see you in class!” he smiled tightly, seemingly trying to keep his disappointment from showing. You held up a hand and waved him goodbye, watching him walk away before redirecting your attention to your phone.

sunato

so cold. almost felt bad for him

You looked up immediately, brows furrowed, before you felt hands settle on your waist from behind you. You tensed, ready to swing back for a second. “I honestly wanna make sure you don’t see each other in class anymore.” the person said in your neck. You breathed out in relief, visibly relaxing in spite of the words you’d just heard.

“Sunato, for fuck’s sake.” you scoffed lightly, turning just enough to see him. He smiled and rubbed your sides before walking over to the barstool in front of yours.

“You called for me. Why so surprised?” he sighed, sitting down. His hands instantly reached for your half-empty glass of wine and brought it to his side. Then he looked back up at you questioningly, despite not really expecting an answer.

You tilted your head. “Because I texted you ten minutes ago.”

He shrugged. “I was nearby. Do you wanna stay a bit more or leave immediately?” he asked, fingers fiddling with the glass.

You hummed, stretching a little as you looked around. Your friends seemed way too much into their own little party. Leaving without telling them wouldn’t upset them. It had happened before, anyway. You looked back at him and nodded decisively, “Yeah, let’s go. I’m tired.”

Banda stood back up and walked over to you, holding out his hand for you to take. You set your fingers in his palm and he pulled you up, close to him. Once his face was right to yours, he whispered, “That’s a relief. I wanted you to myself.”

“Shut up.” you muttered, turning away and ignoring his smile.

“Let’s leave.”

#banda x reader #banda sunato x reader #alice in borderland x reader #aib x reader #x reader

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i-guess-im-into-this-now · 18 days

Text

The Apothecary Diaries

S1Ep2 First watch

Review with spoilers for episode 2 under the cut.

(Which is mostly me ripping into Jinshi.)

Jinshi. My man. I'm both exasperated and excited to see you try your plan to seduce Maomao.

I saw it in episode 1 when you easily maneuvered Maomao into exposing herself and confessing, so I knew you were somewhat crafty. Also, this being a palace intrigue story, I do expect some shady stuff. Even so, I was hoping you would be upfront and honest with Maomao. She was forthcoming with her background, skills, and why she stepped forward to help the sick infants (I'm of the opinion she may have additional secrets that she has not yet revealed, but even so), and yet Jinshi is planning on using dishonest methods to try and control her.

He's a handsome man in power, he's probably used to being able to influence women with seduction. However, I think this plan is likely to fail. Maomao nearly spontaneously combusted when someone joked about her becoming a courtesan, so I'm guessing his flirting will either fluster her in a way that doesn't seduce her or she will find it bafflingly or dishonest and do her best to ignore it. I'm here for anything, whatever goes down I know it's going to be entertaining.

I just met Maomao last episode and I already know seduction is the wrong method to use with her. He would find more success by appealing to her sense of responsibility, justice, or even just her curiosity. He's too smart. I predict that he'll figure this out sooner rather than later.

In the meantime, I hope this seduction plan backfires terribly for him. I want him to end up seducing himself and for Maomao to gain that power over him, where Jinshi hoped to take it from her. I want him to suffer in his desire for her, and eventually I want Maomao to return his affection, but not until he gets what he deserves for trying to manipulate her.

Oh! Okay, I didn't guess that. She's grossed out by him. Maybe I've read this all wrong. *Me rethinking everything. Trying to see earlier scenes in new shades* I'm not convinced she won't like him eventually, but if she is repulsed by men it would explain a few things....

Oh no! Or if she has sexual trauma! That would explain things as well. Ahhh! I hope not! This show won't go that dark will it? *Remembers human trafficking and infant death in the first episode*

At first glance the other ladies in waiting seem nice enough. They are fast to fill in gaps with their own assumptions and immediately gossip about it, so Maomao will want to watch that, but they at least seem compassionate.

Once again we are reminded of Maomaos self harm tendencies with her experiments on herself. In a flashback her father simply laughed and said "that's my little mad scientist." I wonder if she's ever had someone looking out for her that truly cared about her well being? She seems very self sufficient but Maomao deserves to have someone who makes her feel safe and cared for, especially since she's not protecting herself.

For fucks sake Jinshi! Once again he is setting up tests for Maomao without her even knowing she's being tested. In this case he had the food presented in ceramic bowls rather than the more useful silver to see if she would mention it. She did, once again proving her reliability and knowledge.

Princess Peach (I haven't learned this lady-in-waitings name yet but her hair piece looks like PPs crown so I'm going with that for now): If you had spoken up earlier and told someone you were literate, you would have received higher wages.

Maomao: I was kidnapped and brought here against my will. And taking into account that part of my earnings get sent back to the people who stole me, I wasn't exactly eager to.

PP: Basically, you would rather take less pay if it means not supplying the scoundrels who took you with extra drinking money?

This exchange is interesting to me and I think could be seen a couple of ways. On the one hand it could be seen that Maomao would rather suffer herself to ensure that her enemies also suffer than to allow herself to prosper if it means her enemies could also prosper. It could be seen as an act of malice at her own expense. Which... it is. But, that view doesn't account for Maomao's feelings about it which I'm guessing are more self-sacrificing. She would gladly forsake better pay because it's the right thing to do. Evil should not be allowed to prosper and it certainly won't do so with Maomao's help. She'd pick her own suffering every time to prevent injustice.

Goddammit Jinshi! Did he knowingly give Maomao food with an aphrodisiac in it?! What an asshole. He plays so dirty. Thank goodness Maomao is too skilled to fall for that, and now she's on to him.

And Maomao casually solves another mystery, with minimal evidence. She's way too good at this. It could become a problem if she solves an actual crime instead of the two accidental poisonings that she's done up to now. We know someone has tried to poison the concubine twice already so there is someone nafarious in the palace to watch out for. Depending on who it is, if Maomao exposes their crimes, they will probably come for her too.

Jinshi, you bastard! He knows his flirting isn't working, and she easily avoided being secretly dosed with an aphrodisiac, but ask her to make one herself? Well shit, he can get her to dose herself.

Okay so the emperor deliberately placed Jinshi in the back palace to test his concubine's loyalty, but I've got no time to dwell on that because HOLY SHIT! Does Jinshi have a degradation kink! I love that for him!

Meanwhile, Maomao's kink is apothecary ingredients. Lol! She's too funny!

Maomao. Just what am I supposed to believe here. You act disgusted by Jinshi's attempts at seduction but then you think stuff like this:

If he were to come on to someone, blushing and with those looks, it's over.

I'm sure it would be enough to captivate anyone. Male or female.

Moving forward we get this ominous exchange from the concubine and princess Peach:

PP: so the new girl is capable of making drugs.

Concubine: what a beneficial skill.

Does Maomao even realize what it means that she can identify poisons and make them? In a harem setting?! She'll be suspect #1 if anyone gets poisoned, especially considering she's a commoner of low position, meaning she's expendable. Plus, people will be trying to manipulate her into using her skills for their machinations (*cough* Jinshi *cough*). I feel like this story is in the calm before the storm.

There are so many dangers around Maomao and she's so completely alone. She's got her knowledge, skills, and wit but she is so outnumbered and outmatched. I hope she will find a powerful or useful ally.

Fucking Jinshi! This dude's out here stroking her hair, kissing her neck, and whispering in her ear?! Maomao has given no indication that she would welcome his advances, but of course he doesn't care about that. He's out to seduce her. Dick. Joke's on him though, he's going to pay for stealing that chocolate from her. If for no other reason than he'll be left wanting more. Hmmm. That's probably a metaphor.

Actually, now that I've said that, I think that might be right. Jinshi is trying to his best to distract Maomao while stealing the fruits of her labor. Both literally in this scene as well as more generally in all of their interactions. Jinshi has been delighted as Maomao has risen to every challenge and passed every test. Unlike other women in the palace, Maomao doesn't swoon with a sultry look, she resists that, even if she isn't completely immune. He's intrigued already. And he'll be wanting more. I can only hope Maomao keeps him at a distance for awhile. At least long enough for him to really get to know her, understand and learn to respect her.

Her response to Jinshi this time was notably different from before when he flirted with her. This time he didn't use his looks (she couldn't even see him), or any flirty comments. Instead he gently brushed her braid aside and kissed the back of her neck then whispered his appreciation to her. I am once again curious about her past. Did she have anyone in her life to offer her physical affection? Also, thanking her and acknowledging her hard won skills? Yeah, I'm pretty sure that's going to work on Maomao. So if Jinshi has a degradation kink then maybe Maomao has a praise kink. That should be fun for them.

But also, why did Jinshi want Maomao to make an aphrodisiac? Was it just for the concubines to use with the emperor?

Now that I've gotten to the end of the episode I've got to go back and ponder about the emperor sending Jinshi specifically to the back palace. Jinshi and his servant are chatting about an incident when a concubine invited Jinshi to her room and Jinshi describes the incident as

an indiscretion we cannot abide.

And I wonder who he means by "we." We as in the back palace? The empire? The harem hierarchy? The imperial family?

Then the servant states a little indignantly:

But to place you in the rear palace, and using your beauty as a means to test their true character...

Why so indignant on the behalf of the rear palace manger? He's got a high position. Power. Respect. By most metrics he's doing great and his placement in the rear palace should be seen as an honor. It would only be seen as an indignation if one were coming from an even higher position. And what's higher than the emperor's harem?

To which Jinshi laughs and responds:

Our emperor can be quite cunning. We all use whatever we're given.

What would be cunning about sending a handsome palace official to the harem to test their loyalty? Seems like a reasonable request. It's the emperor's perogative to appoint his officials as he sees fit. To use what he's been given. Is there some reason it is remarkable to send Jinshi specifically to the rear palace?

Then to what seems like a non sequitur (but isn't!) Jinshi starts talking, fondly, about how Maomao gave him a death glare.

I've never had anyone look at me so harshly in my life!

Really? Never? No one has ever glared at you? How novel... for a prince. I guessed that last episode with zero evidence just based on a twist I'd like to see, but I'm a lot more confident about it after this exchange.

It is also the link that explains how the conversation jumped from how unusual it is that the emperor sent Jinshi to the rear palace to his delightful experience of being glared at.

Jinshi being a prince also adds color to some of his behavior. His expectation that women will fall for his flirtations, his entitlement, sense of privilege, not to mention the deference he receives.

I'm so intrigued by this story. These characters are 💋🤌

If you liked this, you might like my review for episode 1.

Episode 1 review

Episode 3

#maomao #jinshi #the apothecary diaries #apothecary diaries #jinmao

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honest-moth-of-silver-grove · 3 months

Text

BG3 Companions: How They Spend Valentine's Day ❤️️

A/N: For the sake of this hc, imagine there’s a Valentine’s Day in Faerun, okay? And sorry it’s so short. This has been a week from hell lol.

TW: Mentions of Sex; MDNI

Astarion:

Wine.

Sex.

Did I mention wine?

NOT because it’s Valentine’s Day, but just because he was in the mood.

Really hates the idea of having to ‘perform’ for a certain day. It reminds him of… less-than-pleasant things.

Appreciates it if you make your own holiday, an Anti-Valentine’s Day.

Spends it downtown in Baldur’s Gate where the two of you sit and couple watch, whispering mocking commentary back and forth. Celebrates tf out of that with you.

Gale:

Makes plans months in advance then forgets about them the week of.

Surprises you with matching house robes and chocolate after Tara reminds him.

Has to take a bouquet of flowers to his Mother but promises you the perfect evening once he returns.

Candlelit dinner, wine, a homecooked meal… the works.

And yes, you can bet your bottom dollar the works involve a Gale astral plane threesome come nightfall.

Wyll:

Romantic af about it

Greets you with roses and chocolate before kissing the back of your hand.

Extra affectionate, as if you’re still in the infatuation phase, no matter how long you’ve been together/married.

Has important work to do around Baldur’s Gate but takes you out for a romantic dinner at a fancy local restaurant.

Karlach:

Gets Withers to send you two to the surface for the entire 24 hours.

Plans on taking you everywhere and experiencing everything

Shows you off around town, complimenting you loud enough for everyone to hear.

Sets aside a large chunk of the nighttime for sex. Enough to ride your brains out.

Seriously, all the sex.

Shadowheart:

Very coy about it.

Spends most of the day as if it’s just another borning on.

Surprises you with a night in, your favorite food, and some soft music playing in the background.

Plans a romantic bath for you two, with bubbles and floating candles, and of course, tall glasses of wine.

Wants it to be special, but also relaxed.

La’zel:

Acts like she doesn’t care for such a indulgent day

She does, like totally does.

Lowkey expects YOU to surprise her.

But she will relent eventually, telling you all the things she appreciates about your relationship as the two of you share a meal.

It’s as vulnerable as she gets.

And of course sex. The kind that leaves you walking funny for a week after.

Halsin:

Whittles you a figurine of two bears kissing in front of a heart-shaped moon.

Spends much of the day with the children, helping them write Valentine's letters of their own.

Plans an evening where the two of you can go off camping alone, and spend time just with each other in nature, under the stars.

Bear sex? Bear sex.

Okay well, maybe just old-fashioned non druid wild shape sex but he makes sure to emphasize YOUR enjoyment.

Minthara:

Plans a coup for the very same day.

Only celebrates your holiday if the two of you win.

Drinks to both the fall of your enemies and her affection for you.

Makes sure she gets her rocks off first in any intimacy you share.

Then you can get your turn.

But her first. Always her first.

#baldurs gate imagine #baldurs gate 3 x reader #bg3 x reader #bg3 imagine #baldurs gate x reader #bg3 #hc

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allzelemonz · 10 months

Text

Red Dead Redemption Scenarios: Pride Festival

Pronouns: he/him implied, reader referred to as ‘boy’ Physical Sex: None Mentioned Rating: T, Violence/Allusions to sex Warnings: Modern AU setting, mentions of protesters and homophobia, drinking, drag shows, gay culture, no specific identities stated for Reader or the boys, background relationship: Dutch/Hosea A/N: My local pride isn’t until September but it lasts for three days. Every pride fest is different but I definitely had mine in mind while writing. Happy Pride! P.S. tag yourself, I’m Micah

Abe:

He asks you to paint his flag stripes on his cheek.

Loves everything, but passively.

He watches from the sidelines with a smile and a drink.

You buy him little trinkets and he lights up every time.

He’s a little shy to kiss you in public but he wants to hold your hand the whole time.

Thanks you endlessly when you buy him lunch because he didn’t want to tell you he was hungry and bother you.

There is no stall he hasn’t visited, he collects many pamphlets.

A big fan of drag, but he sits in the back and watches quietly.

Larger men hit on him if you’re not with him and he gets all flustered before he tells them he has a boyfriend.

He’s mostly smiles and sunburns the whole day.

Bill Williamson:

Nervous.

Seeing other men like him there helps a little.

Still too nervous to do the parade.

You get him a little classic rainbow flag to stick in the band of his hat.

He doesn’t understand drag but he gets flustered when they flirt with him.

They flirt with him often.

Very embarrassed at the more vulgar vendors.

Still buys something spicy with a red face as a surprise for you.

He gets very upset about the protesters and you have to hold him back from starting a fight.

Beer, beer is a good distraction.

He absolutely makes friends with a group of burly guys just as drunk as he is.

He gets a little clingy as the day ends, the beer washing his nerves about public affection away.

Charles Smith:

He’s quiet, happy to watch you have fun most of the time.

You helped him fix a flag into his braid.

He has a pronoun pin on his shirt.

He walks with you in the parade, though he’s still a little guarded.

The booths aren’t of much interest to him but he buys some things for you.

He feels a little more comfortable holding your hand or hugging you here.

There’s a passive interest in the drag performers but he doesn’t go out of his way to watch them.

He collects several flyers about the community throughout the day.

Most of his time is spent in the shade, away from the crowd.

Sometimes he’ll follow you around for a while, passively enjoying things.

He does take some time to stand with a couple of burly men that are staring menacingly at the protesters.

Just for good measure.

As the day winds down, he has his guard up again for the sake of safety.

Colm O’Driscoll:

He wears a rainbow tie around his neck.

The old gays are an exclusive group, Colm sits with old friends and nurses cocktails.

Dutch and Hosea seem like a nice couple. Both of them have ‘free dad hug’ buttons pinned to their shirts.

You join them on occasion when you’re not walking around.

Over the years he acquired a lot of pseudo children, ‘O’Driscoll’s boys’ are who you really spend a lot of time walking around with.

Colm absolutely planned this so no one hits on you.

Hosea collects rainbow stickers from a young passerby and Colm reluctantly accepts one, placing it on his shirt.

After a while he gets tired of you not sitting with him so he pulls you into his lap to keep you there.

The rest of the day is just little conversations as Colm holds you by the waist.

He doesn’t pay any mind to the protesters, though Dutch seems like he’s going to kill them.

You get him to walk around a bit, most of his attention is on the dogs in rainbow costumes.

Dotes on you and buys you whatever you want from the vendors.

He’s not big on drag, but he’ll sit with you for the shows if you are.

Kieran Duffy:

He has three pronoun pins on.

You have to remind him to put on sunscreen every few hours.

He calls a drag queen pretty and she calls him cute, it takes him at least an hour to breathe properly again.

He tells you that you don’t have to buy him a flag but he really wants one of the big ones.

Naturally, you buy him a flag and help him tie it around his shoulders.

He gets really frustrated about the protesters so you distract him by getting him ice cream.

There’s a few horses in the parade with dyed rainbow tails and manes and he talks with their handlers for as long as he can.

A minute later you’re ordering the dye they recommend for Branwen.

The drag shows are a little overwhelming for him with all the noise but he listens to the story time like a little kid.

Towards the end, he gets drinks and you have to keep him walking straight.

Micah Bell:

He sulks in the shade, only the occasional smile on his face when he sees you enjoying yourself.

He asks you what flags mean sometimes.

His favorite activity is quietly listening to the protesters and silently laughing at how ridiculous they are.

He’s not gonna start a fight. Yet.

You buy him his flag, a little plastic one, and he sticks it out of his pocket so people are a little less intimidated by him.

He walks with you in the parade, holding your hand.

Drinks. When he finds the drinks, he gets into things a little more.

He finds another sullen/asshole kind of person and makes a drunk friend.

He’s not a fan of drag, so he avoids the shows.

A kid gives him a sticker and he gives it to you.

You sit in the shade with him for a while and it’s his favorite part of the day.

After drinking, later in the day, he follows the protester that had a megaphone and beats the shit out of him, coming back to you like nothing happened.

Sean MacGuire:

He pre games.

He starts around nine in the morning.

You paint the color stripes of his flag on his face.

It took him an hour to carefully remove his flag from the wall so he can wear it as a cape.

It has a four leaf clover in the middle.

He screams the chants during the parade at the top of his lungs.

Keeping track of him in the crowd is impossible.

In past years you considered a leash.

When in doubt just find him where they’re serving drinks.

You packed him water and snacks to keep him mildly sober.

He pulls you in to dance with him to all the cheesy gay pop songs.

He yells at the protesters once, very drunk.

During drag shows he is one of the most hyped in the room.

If it’s a tipping show he is absolutely dropping what he hasn’t spent on drinks.

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bijoumikhawal · 11 months

Text

Also, since I mentioned it but haven't talked about it, let's examine "with sentiments like those you wouldn't last 5 seconds on Cardassia" through the Garak as mixed race reading we get from A Stitch In Time- and, because Julian's there, and I can't really talk about this interaction without it, reading Julian through a Jewish lens. (CCing: @nebulouscoffee as they asked the inital question)

Background contextualization once more: in the play The Nexus, there is an interaction which frankly, reveals itself as deeply cruel and mean-spirited. And, heads up, I will be discussing antisemitism and my criticism of the Federation.

BASHIR: When you were truly free. We so often only ruminate on the sad memories. When, if ever, have you felt like Elim Garak? GARAK (warms as he remembers): I used to perch on the edge of a dirt cart, drinking cool Ribexa, watching my “father” - Tolan - gently knead the soil around newly transplanted orchid bulbs. He used to talk to his patients, softly reassuring them that they weren’t lost or in danger. He was completely oblivious of me - but it didn’t matter. I lived through him, Doctor, and I lived through those orchids, imagining that I myself was being carefully tucked into my own bed. When all the talk was of war and mayhem, I would wait till all was quiet in the house and go sit beside the planted bulbs, digging my toes into the moist earth, looking up at the stars… BASHIR: Like your regnar. GARAK: Mmm? BASHIR: Transforming yourself, becoming at one with your environment. Isn’t that what happened to you in your early training at Bamarren? When you leaned to be somewhere without being noticed. GARAK: I was sent to Bamarren to learn how to kill...cleanly, dispassionately. To be part of a team that kills without question. But that tiny creature was my lifeline. Literally, my line to life. Through Mila, this regnar, I could still remember what it was like to be alive for life’s sake. BASHIR: L’chaim! To life! An old earthen sect called Jews used to say l’chaim to salute each other in celebration. No one says it anymore. GARAK: No, I’m sure they don’t. The Federation don’t approve, do they, Doctor? Sectarianism is divisive, is it not? How ironic. How Cardassian! Everyone surrenders their individual culture for the greater good of the whole. BASHIR: It evolved out of our choice, Garak. We have freedom of choice, and choice has kept us free. GARAK: Of course you call it choice. Coercion would have been too Borgian, certainly not the Federation style. Assimilation by consent is much better. Keep the grass green on my side of the fence and simply wait for everyone to come on over. Sometimes, Doctor, choice is the last thing we need. Ask any child to make a choice, and he or she will invariably make a regrettable one. We’re all such children. BASHIR: Considering your support for democratic principles on Cardassia, I’m rather surprised to hear you say this. GARAK: You wouldn’t be, my friend, if you saw how some people are using these democratic principles. But perhaps they’re simply following the Federation example. Perhaps Federation democracy is the most subtle, the most devious tyranny yet conceived.

This is a very long section, but I feel the whole of it is relevant. Let's break down the major takeaways I have:

Garak is at a point in his life where he very openly is criticizing Cardassia's policy of cultural assimilation and supremacy. He could not do this before without facing extreme legal and social reprocussions, and even though he's still doing this to Julian- someone who wouldn't care- the kind of person he is during the show would not do this.

The Nexus is presenting the Federation as a logical conclusion of a specific permutation of anti-theism popular with certain "progressives", and in my opinion the Federation has expressed characteristics of European Secularism (see: Bajorans being made to remove their earrings while serving in Starfleet while others in Starfleet are allowed to wear other items of cultural significance).

Julian is putting forth the company line on that front, which is suprising given he and Jadzia are the more respectful members of the senior staff towards Bajoran religion.

This whole scene must be contextualized in that gardening/connection to "soft, green" things and Tolan, are connected to Garak’s sense of Hebitian identity, and that Garak is criticizing Cardassia and the Federation from the perspective of someone coming to terms with his Hebitian identity, and that that is an oppressed identity.

On my first reading, I'll be blunt: I completely despised this line from Julian and was willing to pretend I never read it. It does, on some level, make sense for him without adding any extra dimension of cultural context beyond what we're explicitly told, but it is a very nasty belief to espouse. However, upon receiving the trivia that the actor who plays Julian's father is Jewish, I found myself turning it over in my head again, and a question that I think is very relevant to Julian: what does it mean to assimilate and how does it fuck with you? Regardless of what you believe, what is it safe to do (Orthodoxy vs Orthopraxy)? Both are also, relevant to talking about Garak and what it means to be Hebitian.

and let's return to the scene in the show that we're examining.

GARAK: It all comes down to a question of loyalty. My dear Doctor, Yiri had to choose between protecting his brother and protecting the state. He chose the state, as would I, every time. BASHIR: I suppose that's one way of looking at it. But then again, before you can be loyal to another, you must be loyal to yourself. GARAK: And who can we thank for those misguided words of wisdom? Sarek of Vulcan? BASHIR: Actually, it was Bashir of Earth. GARAK: With sentiments like those, you wouldn't last for five seconds on Cardassia. BASHIR: Would you? GARAK: Fishing again, Doctor?

The script adds a direction before Garaks last line here: "Garak is a little taken aback. Bashir's question cuts right to the heart of the cat-and-mouse game that the two of them have been playing for months."

Obviously with the biracial reading from ASIT the joke is: no, Garak wouldn't. He didn't. Once he stepped too far out of the line, that was betrayal, and you can draw a straight line from his betrayal to his exile (though we never actually get an explanation for why he was exiled, and are left to draw our own conclusions). And the precise reason he didn't last is arguably BECAUSE he was crossing the line of self loyalty, bringing him out of step with loyalty to the state. He didn't chose the state. You can even directly point to him contemplating turning in the Oralian Way meeting in ASIT and not doing it as a parallel to the situation the two are discussing. He had the choice to protect the group or the state, and through inaction, ultimately chose the group.

And the joke with the Jewish reading brought on by the Nexus: Julian isn't loyal to himself, and his disloyalty makes him more loyal to the Federation. Julian is of course, a walking disloyalty, he's an Augment. And because this is a reading based on very little information, we can't say why he's disloyal to himself. Are his parents assimilationists? It wouldn't be suprising: he talks with a much more posh, distinctly British accent than them both (Amsha doesn't have a British accent, to my ear, and Richard's sounds more working class), which potentially indicates they put effort into him not talking like them. Was assimilation a choice to avoid already being seen as odd and disloyal in an attempt to avoid examination of background and discovery of his Augmentation? How does the Federation talk about Jews, educate about them, how is Jewish history viewed?

No one says it anymore- but you, Julian Bashir, just said it. Where did you learn it? Did your grandmother still say it? Did you read it in class? Did you seek out reading it yourself? Was it in a play, a movie, a novel? Did you ever say it before now? Did you say it to your father?

Were you told the lie that the second exodus of SSWANA Jews during the mid 20th century was gleefully undertaken? Were told to be relieved, as Garak implies, that yet another vector of sectarianism was gone? Were you told to be relieved people could not be made to suffer through that avenue anymore? Were you told to think of it as a mercy killing? You were certainly told it was a choice, freely made.

We end up with a scene where a man who chose loyalty to himself and was punished (would have always risked punishment because the requirement of loyalty is against something he was born as) denies he ever made such a choice, and a man who is not loyal to himself calling self loyalty a pre-requisite for loyalty to a state he inherently cannot be loyal to, while questioning the first man what called his state loyalty into question. Men in intersecting lines.

#cipher talk #ds9 #Julian Bashir #ASIT #Elim Garak #Bashir fan club #Bashir fanclub #Edosian melancholies

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wavyhairedvixen · 5 months

Text

Hard work pays off

pov: Loki as an art teacher

tags:

f/m, Loki x reader

18+ content, porn with plot, spanking

Summary: This semester you get sorted into the class of the most demanding art teacher named Master Laufeyson, which results in conflicts between the two of you. Even though he keeps giving you harsh criticism you stay determined. You decide to prove him how wrong he was when he called you mediocre, and you start to work on your sculptures night and day with such passion like never before. All the while, you can’t get him out of your mind… Your thoughts are consumed by his gestures with those big hands, and his impeccable style. One night as you work in the studio all alone he unexpectedly shows up, surprised that you’re still there. It pleases him to see you working overtime just to prove him your worth.

Master Laufeyson keeps watching you from afar. You’re not aware of your teacher’s presence, as you keep carving the wood. The studio’s warm air is filled with the soothing scent of pine trees.. A song from Sting is playing in the background, and you occasionally sing along to the music. As your master comes up behind you with his signature inaudible steps, you get a whiff of his minty cologne. Your heart skips a beat as the realization hits you. You whip around, redness tinting your cheeks.

“Good evening, master!” you smile awkwardly.

“It’s impressive how persistent you are; not many students have your mindset, you know.” He taps his bottom lip with his index finger, stepping closer to your artwork, taking in its fine details.

You can’t believe his words… Is he mocking you? No, he seems dead serious. You are too shocked to speak, disbelief plastered on your face.

“You proved your talent to me, little one! Look at your sculptures, they are full of emotion,” he remarks with a self-contented smile.

“Master… You put me through all this misery to…” you mumble searching for words, furrowing your brows.

“For your own sake, yes. And look how well it tured out!” he looks you up and down with a twinkle in his eyes. “I think we should drink to that,” he says cheerfully and snaps his fingers. Two glasses and a bottle of wine appear out of nowhere in a cloud of green smoke on a table.

“What the…” you stare at it with your mouth agape. “I must be going crazy”, you think to yourself. “First you’re being nice to me, then it turns out you’re a magician.” You burst out laughing. “I can’t believe this…”

“There you go, my dear!” He hands you a glass of wine. “Just to make it clear, I’m not a magician, I am a god. And please, don’t tell a soul about this! Oh, actually, you can, since they wouldn’t believe you anyway…” he chuckles, watching you gulp down your wine. “Another one?”

“Definitely!” You let him refill your glass as you look him in the eyes. “I don’t care who you are… You have no idea how much your harsh remarks hurt me!” you say bitterly. “I understand that you wanted to challenge me, but was it really necessary to humiliate me in front of the whole class?”

“I’m sorry, I might have gone a bit too far sometimes. Can I make it up to you?”, he asks with a sly smile stepping closer, his gaze resting on your lips. He places his hands on your hips and dips his head to place a soft kiss on your lips. You close your eyes and kiss him back sensually, savouring the moment.

“You needed to learn some discipline in order to reach your full potential…” he whispers, breaking the kiss for a moment while running his fingertips along your sides.

“Oh, shut up…” you hiss with an annoyed look, peering up at him.

He grabs your chin with one hand and pulls you closer with the other, holding you in his firm grip. “Choose your words carefully, when you’re talking to your master, or I’ll have to teach you some manners, kitten!”

Your cheekiness seems to have aroused him just as much as his authoritative tone has stirred something within you. He kisses you more passionately this time, showing you who’s in charge. His tongue is smooth and relaxed as he strokes yours slowly, letting his hand wander to the inside of one of your thighs.

“God, he’s a good kisser!” you think to yourself.

As you both pull away for some air, you say through laboured breaths, “You know what I think? That you actually had a lot of fun tormenting me with your cruel words, you psycho…”

“I warned you to watch your mouth!” He pinches your butt, earning a squeak from you. “I think it’s time to teach you a lesson!” He rubs the spot where he previously pinched you, then turns you around by your waist and locks one of his big hands around your throat, pressing himself against you. You can feel his erection poking your rear as he cups one of your breasts with his other hand. “Just to make it clear: you’re mine,” he whispers as he nuzzles his nose along your neck, biting your earlobe tenderly. “Obey me, and I’ll reward you… Disobey me and bear the consequences…” his hot breath tickles your ear and you practically melt into his touch.

He traces his fingers along your chest and abdomen, all the way down to your thighs. The next thing you know is that you’re naked, and leather straps have formed around your thighs, waist and tits. He lifts both of your hands above your head and you feel a rope form around your wrists, holding you in place. You gasp as he tugs on your harness by the waistband.

“Oh, God… this feels… so tight. So good…” you groan. Then he lets go of your neck and smacks your butt with a gloved hand. “Ow!” you feel a stinging pain where he slapped you, warmth spreading over your ass cheek, being followed by a tingling sensation.

Wetness coats your folds as he smacks your other cheek too, chuckling darkly, “Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you this time, darling…” He steps away, admiring his work.

“Please… Master!” you whine, tugging against your restraint, looking back at him over your shoulder. He steps closer, kissing your neck and sliding his gloved hand over your pussy.

“Please, what? You want more, you wicked little thing?” Your arousal coats the smooth leather of the glove as he rubs your clit.

“Mhmm…”

“You’re enjoying your punishment a bit too much, don’t you think?” he coos and bites your neck.

You feel his teeth sink into your skin and his warm tongue licking a stripe over the mark he left. Then he slaps your butt with his gloved hand again. As the wet leather makes contact with your skin you cry out from the pain. But soon the pain dissolves and that same pleasant warm tingling lingers as before. You’re a moaning mess by the time he releases your hands and turnes you around kissing a trail down your body. He stops at one of your breasts, sucking and nibbling on your nipple while groping the other one, pinching your bud between two of his long fingers. You can feel your arousal dripping down the insides of your thighs.

“Please! I’m aching for your touch, master…”

“Patience, pet… I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long. I wanted to fuck you unconscious the first time I laid eyes on you, and believe me, keeping my cool was a challenge whenever I saw these curves in those tight dresses.” He gets on his knees pecking kisses around your navel. “You have no idea how excrutiating it was for me to admire your delectable body without ever laying a finger on it.” He emphasises his statement by licking over your mound, while groping your ass, pulling you into his face.

“Ahh…” you moan, practically trembling with anticipation as you run your fingers through his hair.

He starts to quite literally devour you, and your knees go weak as you reach your orgasm. With one precise thrust of his tongue against your clit, he sends you over the edge, your body buckling against his mouth, as you cry out. He licks up the nectar oozing out of you, with a satisfied groan, making such obscene noises that you blush a deep shade of red.

Suddenly, footsteps and the creaking sound of an opening door fill the silence. You freeze on the spot, hand gripping your master’s shoulder. Unbothered, he waves one of his hands and in an instant, you find yourselves in a nicely furnished room with a huge bed at its center.

Your eyes go wide. “That was fucking close!”

“Did the previous situation excite you?” he asks with a wicked grin, wiping your arousal off of his mouth with the back of his hand.

“I could get expelled for what we did, you crazy bastard!”

“That filthy mouth of yours is gonna be the death of me…”

He stands up, his tall figure looming over you as he guides your wrist to his crotch. Your fingers glide over the bulge in his pants, before you start to unbuckle his belt and pull down his trousers and underwear. You wrap both of your hands around his long and thick cock, pecking a gentle kiss on the tip. You pull back the skin and lick along his cock then take the tip into your mouth. You moan as you let him slide deeper, sucking on him, stroking the base of his cock with your hands, picking up your pace while doing so. As you keep bobbing your head you look up at him. He peers down at you, eyes heavy with adoration and lust. You moan around his cock as you let it slide into your throat, your muscles contracting around his shaft. He groans as he cums into your mouth and you swallow his hot seed.

He caresses your cheek with his thumb as he purrs, “Good girl…”

“Brother!” you freeze as a thunderous voice shakes the corridor outside.

#fanfiction #fanfic #writing #loki x reader #writeblr #loki laufeyson

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