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suashii · 3 days

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— 𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝑜𝓌𝓁 ౨ৎ

boothill x f!reader. 2k wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ vaguely suggestive bits ﾉ fluff ﾉ non-canon compliant ﾉ farmhand!boothill ﾉ pet names ( darlin’ + sweetheart :3 )

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it’s late—you know so because the sky has turned to a deep navy. you can hear the crickets chirping through the open window, feel the cool night breeze whisper against your skin. beyond those telling signs, your eyelids are beginning to feel heavy. they’re screaming at you to close them but you know that if you do, you’ll fall asleep in a second. you can’t do that now, not when you’re on the phone giving your weekly update to your friend back home.

“so,” her voice crackles over the line, “how are things in farmville?”

you snort at meg’s nickname for the little town you’ve come to know as a second home. as much as she pokes fun at the idea of having a ranch to run away to, she’s been supportive of your decision to retreat here for solace. she keeps you in the loop when it comes to the drama unfolding in the office and listens attentively when you tell her what you’re up to on the farm.

you have a feeling she might be offended that you didn’t tell her this bit sooner.

“fine.” you draw the word out, rolling onto your other side on the couch as if repositioning will give you enough time to stall. despite not being able to see her face, you imagine that the woman is wearing an expression that says something along the lines of i know you’re hiding something. even through the phone, she can see through you. “i might have gotten a concussion a few days ago.”

she gasps and you can hear her slap her hand over her mouth. you’re sure if she could, she’d reach through the phone and shake you by the shoulders before thinking better of it and rushing out a string of apologies. though, she can’t, so she settles on questioning you instead. “what happened? are you okay? why the hell are you just now telling me?”

you relay the series of events to her—how it happened, boothill finding you, your visit to the doctor, and boothill playing nurse since then. her worry seems to dissipate as you explain and by the time you’re done, she’s laughing.

“what are you giggling about?” you ask her, but a little part of you already knows. boothill’s name always seems to make its way into your conversations and since the start of these weekly calls, meg has held onto the belief that you’re harboring a crush on the farmhand. you brush her off every time she suggests that you like him but like a leech, the thought always latches on and lingers.

“probably hard to deny your feelings now, huh?” you can hear the smile in her voice. you pucker your lips in annoyance. you didn’t think telling her about the way boothill makes you feel would result in meg throwing it back in your face at any given moment. though, you suppose you can’t be surprised. she’s frustrated that you’ll admit those feelings to her and not him, that you won’t act on them. “he’s already taking care of you like you’re his girlfriend—how romantic!”

“it’s not romantic,” you tell her, shaking your head, “he’d do that for anyone.”

“even better!” meg squeals. the shrill sound makes you pull the phone away from your ear and you only return it to its former position when the woman lowers her voice. “if he’s like that with everyone, that means he isn’t trying to impress you. he’s just a compassionate, caring guy who happens to have a thing for you.”

you chew on your cheek as you contemplate her words. you’ve never doubted that he’s a good guy—you’ve seen too many instances of his big heart in action to think otherwise, though, the part about boothill having a “thing” for you is a bit harder to believe. sure, he’s called you pretty numerous times, unintentionally held your hands on a couple of occasions, but that means nothing, at least when it comes to whatever feelings he might have for you. you’ve convinced yourself that most of the things he does that make your heart flutter or your cheeks burn are simply to get a reaction out of you—a little embarrassment for the sake of his entertainment.

“ugh, when are you going to be brave and spill your guts to him?” meg’s voice cuts through your thoughts.

“never! i’m not telling him anything.” you close your eyes and take a deep breath to ground yourself. “i don’t know how long i’ll be here and, more importantly, i have no idea if he even likes me.”

“and you’ll never find out if you keep running away.”

you’re about to tell her that you aren’t running away or avoiding anything but you press your lips together before the words can hit the air. because you have been—you can recall a number of times you have in the past and you’re even thinking about it now, leaving without coming to terms with your feelings or figuring out if boothill reciprocates them.

“i’m not—” not running away? not going to tell him? not ready to tell him? you huff out a sigh, one that’s a mixture of frustration and confusion. “not now, meg.”

“that’s fine,” she assures you, her voice soft. “i just don’t want you to regret anything.”

“i know.” you nod even though she can’t see you.

she’s right. you’ll regret it if you don’t say anything, if you go home without facing your feelings head-on. the what ifs and what could have beens will follow you there, mercilessly haunting your mind.

“it’s getting late,” you tell meg, “i think i’m going to go to bed.”

“sure,” she hums. there’s a brief pause like she wants to say more but she settles on, “good night.”

“g’night.” you pull your phone away to end the call and toss the device on the other end of the couch. you should go upstairs and get in bed like you planned to but all these thoughts so fresh in your head make you feel like falling asleep won’t come easy tonight. slumping against the arm on the couch, you let out a groan, one quiet enough to not wake your grandpa and boothill upstairs but loud enough to grant you the slightest bit of relief.

though, the sound is cut off by another. it comes from the kitchen and you sit up to peer over the back of the couch to see if you’re hearing things—you’d prefer it that way. your fantasy comes to an end when you see boothill standing at the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water and closing the door once he’s finished.

he meets your gaze and shoots you a smile before uncapping the water and taking a few gulps. it’s strange seeing him at this hour; he usually sleeps early so he can wake up with the sun. you rarely ever see him wearing anything but his jeans and his top of choice but the look is traded in for pajamas now—if you can call nothing but a pair of boxers pajamas.

you gasp at the sight and turn around. he just wanders around the house half-naked? carelessly risks running into you while wearing nothing but his underwear? you might not have heard him but he certainly must have seen you stretched out on the couch or at the very least heard you talking to meg on the phone.

the call.

you quickly turn around to face him once more.

“how long have you been there?” the question comes out rushed but you’re frantic to know if he was around to hear you talking about him.

he shrugs and swallows, setting his bottle on the counter before leaning against it. “i don’t know. long enough to hear you’re having some boy troubles.”

the confession makes your heart jump into your throat. you choose not to expand on it, instead reprimanding him for eavesdropping. “it’s rude to listen in on conversations you aren’t part of.”

“my apologies.” he raises his hands in mock surrender. “i just didn’t wanna interrupt.”

you stare him down in an attempt to read his expression and the look in his eyes. his perpetual smile is in place like usual but nothing else about his countenance seems knowing. he’s either very good at hiding it or he didn’t pick up on the fact that he was the one you’re talking about.

“want some advice?” boothill speaks up, tilting his head in a question of its own.

you look at him for a second before a laugh bubbles up from your chest, permeating the air. boothill’s smile slowly falls and that’s the last you see of him before turning your back to him. it seems a little more polite to laugh at him if it isn’t in his face.

he doesn’t stay at his place in the kitchen, feet carrying him to the back of the couch. you’re still laughing when he gets there. he’s never heard you laugh like this before—not at anything he’s said or done. as captivated as he is by the sound, he’s a touch more curious as to what brought it about. a cushion in between you, he leans over the back of the couch to ask, “what’s so funny?”

“i’m sorry.” you try to clear the humor from your voice but it lingers with your explanation. you turn your head to look boothill in the eye. “it’s just—what do you know about problems of the male variety?”

“hello?” he straightens up and gestures to himself and it’s only then that you remember how…undressed he is. that’s enough to sober you up from your humor. “you’re looking at a man, sweetheart.”

you don’t need him to tell you that—you’re more than aware of that. you just meant that he doesn’t seem like the type to help people out of romantic hardships, rather, he’s the one who causes them. strangely enough, though, you consider hearing his perspective. after all, he is the subject of your “boy troubles” as boothill called them.

“so, how about it?” he rounds the couch and plops down on it beside you, leaving a safe amount of space between the two of you. you hold his gaze, light gray irises glowing like stars in the darkness of the living room. “wanna hear my opinion?”

your heart rate quickens and you can’t tell why. because he’s this close to you and practically naked? because those gray eyes are boring into you, urging you to hear him out? because his advice could be the courage you need to admit your feelings or the very deterrent to keep you from doing so?

maybe you aren’t quite brave enough to spill your guts yet but it’s time for you to stop being so scared of the what ifs. “okay, go for it.”

that seems to be the answer boothill was looking for, if his growing smile is any evidence. he doesn’t waste any time sharing his insight. “i say throw caution to the wind, tell him how you feel. and if he doesn’t feel the same way, well then, that’s his loss. because you, darlin’, are a catch. any man would be lucky to have you.”

you know boothill isn’t one to sugarcoat his words. every word he says, he means. is that the case here, too? any man would be lucky to have you—would he feel the same if that man was him?

“i’m headin’ to bed.” he groans as he stands up, stretching his arms above his head, mouth falling open in a yawn. you watch him silently, pondering his words. he doesn’t comment on your silence, doesn’t bother to tease you about your staring. all he does is offer you a wink before telling you, “sweet dreams.”

just as quietly as he appeared, he’s gone.

you let out a shaky breath that you didn’t know you were holding. instead of following boothill’s lead and going to sleep, you rest your head on the arm of the couch and turn your eyes up to the ceiling. your heart is still beating wildly against your rib cage but it’s not bad nerves this time around, it’s anticipation.

courage it is.

thanks for reading! reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: honkai star rail #boothill x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #boothill drabble #hsr drabbles #boothill fluff #hsr fluff #honkai star rail fluff

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moonstruckme · 3 days

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hi! What about a fic if one of the Mauraders or TASM peter with a reader who's insecure about her big boobs? Like ik everyone thinks it's ideal but honestly sometimes it really sucks when shirts don't fit right or everything looks slutty or u can't go braless or alternatively a fic about their gf overhearing someone say they r an ass man but she has a small butt?

Thank you for requesting!

cw: insecurity around breast size

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

You’re looking in the mirror, and you want to feel good about yourself. Really, everything looks the way it should. Your hair looks better than it would on an average day, that new eyeshadow thing you tried actually turned out nicely, and your dress fits the way it’s supposed to.

Just, the way it’s supposed to fit doesn’t really seem right to you at the moment.

“Peter,” you call in the direction of the bathroom, “if I ask you about something, can you promise to be honest with me?”

You hear water splash in the shower, signaling your boyfriend is finally rinsing out his hair. In classic Peter fashion, he seems like he’s going to be late to his own banquet. Oscorp is having a formal event to recognize the achievements of their scientists this year. Peter’s done even more than most, and he’s expected to give a speech before the food comes out which you’ll be lucky to make at this rate. You were supposed to get ready together, but he’d spent the majority of the time flirting with you while you did your makeup in your pajamas.

“Duh, I’m always honest,” he calls back. The shower shuts off. “That’s why they call me your friendly, honest, neighborhood spider-man.” A pause. You wonder if he can sense the dry look you’re sending his way. “Fine, but I’m always honest with you. Shoot, sweetheart.”

“Okay.” You give yourself one final, disappointed look-over in the mirror before heading towards the bathroom door. “I’m serious, don’t sugarcoat anything, but do you think—”

The door swings open, and Peter’s right in front of you, beads of water still visible on his torso and a towel wrapped around his waist.

“—this is too slutty?” you finish, quieter, right as he blurts, “Oh my god.”

Peter blinks. His head does a tiny shake, as if trying to rid himself of a dizzy spell. “What?” he asks.

Probably not your best phrasing. “I just mean, is it too booby,” you try again. You have the urge to tuck your arms around your middle self-consciously, but you worry that would only make the boob predicament worse.

“Baby.” Peter’s still looking at you like you’re speaking another language. “What?”

You look down at your highly visible cleavage, then back up at him. “You know what I mean,” you say softly.

“Okay, speaking from a strictly male standpoint,” Peter says, unabashed as his eyes dip to where yours just where, “I can’t condone the idea that there is such a thing as too booby. But even if I was, like, a ninety-five year old conservative woman, I couldn’t—I would still think you look beautiful.”

Your heart balloons. It’s not a compliment you got much before you met Peter. Hot, sexy, sure, but not beautiful.

“God.” The word slips from your boyfriend’s mouth so softly it almost sounds like a prayer. His hands find your waist, skimming down the satiny material of your dress to rest on your hips. “You’re amazing, sweetheart. Is that the eyeshadow trick you were talking about?”

You nod, cheeks burning. “You watched me do it.”

“It looks different with the dress on,” he agrees. “Fuck. Not to be corny, but you’re seriously taking my breath away. I can’t breathe right now.”

A little laugh stutters out of you, and Peter smiles. He’s looking rather breathtaking himself, fresh-faced from the shower with a piece of damp hair still clinging to his forehead. You unstick it and comb it back in with the others already fluffed up after being toweled off. He smells like his shampoo.

“Can I kiss you,” he asks, “or will I mess up your makeup?”

“Be careful,” you warn, smiling as you lean in.

He is, but his hands give away his hunger, bunching in the fabric at the base of your spine to get you closer. He makes a low, needy sound in the back of his throat, and for half a second you wonder if it’s for your benefit but then you remember that he was right earlier. Peter is always honest with you.

You laugh when you pull away, going to get a bit of tissue paper to blot away the lipstick you’ve left on him. A glance in the bathroom mirror shows that yours is, thankfully, intact.

“Are you sure this dress will be appropriate?” you ask, less insecure now but still nervous as you wipe at Peter’s upper lip. “Regardless of how much you like it, it’s still a formal thing and I don’t want to be…indecent.” You cringe. There’s no word that sounds nice.

Your boyfriend’s brows furrow. His hands skim up your arms, and he looks like he’s about to reply when you fold the toilet paper and stick it between his lips. “Blot,” you murmur.

He does. “Baby.” He squeezes your upper arms, a silent request for you to look up at his eyes. You find them soft and earnest. “There’s nothing inappropriate about what you’re wearing. It is a formal thing, and you’re wearing a formal dress. You look beautiful.” That word again. Your cheeks burn. Peter kisses one of them. “No one is going to have anything to say about how you look other than how beautiful you are,” he promises.

You let the sincerity of his words seep into you, pooling like a warm drink in your belly. The inside of your lip finds its way between your teeth. Now you’re feeling bashful for other reasons.

It’s obvious by Peter’s grin that he can tell. He gives your arms another squeeze before moving you out of the way and going to where his clothes are laid out on the bed.

“Actually, that’s pretty convenient for me.” He discards the towel on the floor, slipping on a pair of boxers and then starting to button up his dress shirt. “You’ve just taken a whole bunch of pressure off my speech, sweetheart. No way anyone’s gonna be looking at me while I’m up there.”

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canonizzyhours · 1 day

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I'm a professional screenwriter. I know nobody reading this has any reason to believe that, and I work pretty hard to keep my fandom activity separate from my professional identity, so I'm not going to offer any proof that would doxx me here, believe me or don't. But it's true and I don't just mean I'm trying to get hired as a screenwriter, I mean I am pretty well established in the industry and I've worked on some stuff big enough you've probably heard of it. I've also been active in OFMD fandom for about two years now, since nearly the beginning.

The canyon really freaks me out because seeing it up close makes me worried I've drastically underestimated audiences' empathy gap around characters of color and tendency to sympathize with and excuse the actions of white characters. I've always tried to be conscious about that sort of thing in my work but now that I'm seeing the whole process up close it's so much worse than I always thought.

I think a lot about what I would have done during season 1 of OFMD, if I were in the writers' room and I'd wanted to make sure it would be clear to the audience that Izzy was Ed's abuser and wasn't acting out of secretly sympathetic motives and we're supposed to be genuinely horrified by his actions. I'm in writers' rooms workshopping issues like this all the time. I know the kinds of suggestions I'd make.

Like, if we were worried that the audience would think Izzy's hostility toward Stede was about class instead of homophobia, I might have suggested we make sure Izzy's dialogue never has any reference to Stede's class at all, and that we might do a subplot in one episode where Izzy is equally hostile toward Lucius, since Lucius clearly isn't rich but is extremely gay. But that already happened, and it didn't help.

If I wanted to make sure the audience understood that Izzy is bossing the crew around and screaming at everyone to work harder because he's a petty little bully on a power trip and not because the work actually needs to get done, I might have suggested a scene where Izzy deliberately makes a mess on purpose just so he can order the crew to clean it up. But that already happened, and it didn't help.

If I wanted to make it clear that Izzy has always been awful toward everyone around him -- especially his colleagues of color -- since long before the show started, I might have suggested we repeatedly emphasize throughout the season that while Fang is willing to work with him, he doesn't like or respect Izzy and this is because Izzy has always treated Fang very badly. Have him pull on Fang's beard for no reason and have Fang explicitly say he hates that but knows it wouldn't help to complain. Have Fang tell strangers jokes about times Izzy humiliated himself in public. Have a scene where everybody unanimously VOTES TO MURDER IZZY and someone explicitly stops to ask Fang if he's cool with this and Fang explicitly says yes this is absolutely fine with me and then he actively participates in the murder plan while smiling. But all of that happened and I still see the canyon insisting that Izzy was a much nicer person before the events of s2 when he wasn't under so much stress and has always been liked and respected by the PoC around him, including specifically Fang!

If I were worried that the audience might take seriously the idea that Izzy is motivated by "loyalty to your captain" -- well, honestly I don't think it ever would have occurred to me to worry about that, since he says that in a scene where he's in the middle betraying his captain and I'd probably assume people are capable of picking that up and understanding that when someone says they're abusing you for your own good you should not believe them. But if someone else insisted we address the concern, suggestions I'd make would include: make sure some of the first interactions we see between Ed and Izzy involve Izzy complaining about how he doesn't want to do the job Ed just gave him, then half-assing the mission and lying to Ed's face about it. Show Izzy deliberately undermining Ed to the crew by telling them he's half-insane, then insist to Ed that he's the only one keeping the crew loyal when they're worried about his judgment. But they did that stuff and we still have people thinking Izzy's central motivation throughout season 1 is selfless devotion to Ed.

The show did every single thing I would have suggested, and none of it worked. So what does it say about all the stuff I've already worked on, whenever I've written a scene where a white guy was being a dick to characters of color? Have I just been embarrassingly naive this whole time? Have I undermined my own work by not getting this?

You can't control audience reactions, I know that, that's part of what's great about art, you have to let go and accept that people will interpret things in ways you never intended, I get it. But if it's THIS impossible to choose words that will create the kind of feelings you meant to, what's the point? Is it even possible to write about the kind of abusive relationship Ed and Izzy have, where the white guy thinks he's entitled to control a brown man's life "for his own good" and that the brown guy is obligated to be grateful and reciprocate his "love" and not have a huge group of people creating elaborate justifications for the white guy? What else could they have done? What else can I do, when I'm writing about characters of color? I'm seriously asking. If anybody reading this has advice I want to hear it. What could I do?

#408.

#ofmd #izzy hands #edward teach #fang #lucius spriggs #fandom critical #canonizzyhours

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pepsiboyy · 9 hours

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HEALING HEARTS.

pairing: chris sturniolo x fem!reader summary: where chris has been distant and loses his temper. warnings: angstttt (resolved), use of y/n, cursing a/n: felt angsty yayyy love you guys <3

"chris, you can't keep shutting me out like this!" i shouted, my fists balled up as i stood in front of him.

for the last three weeks, chris has given me little to no response when i would ask him questions, ask how his game is going, or even if i asked what's been bothering him.

chris let out an agitated sigh as he peeled off his headset and spun in his gaming chair, turning to me with an irritated expression. "i'm not shutting you out, y/n, i just need space sometimes."

"space?" i questioned, my voice raising a bit as i spoke. "you've been distance for weeks now, i feel like i'm walking on eggshells around you." i stated firmly, my arms coming up to cross tightly.

chris let out an angry groan as he stood up form his chair. "here you fuckin' go, with your yappin' and shit."

"yapping!?" i brought a hand to my chest, genuinely shocked at his tone.

"maybe if you gave me some space to breathe, we wouldn't be in this argument." he stated, having taken a few steps towards me.

"i just want to understand what's going on with you, chris. we're supposed to be a team here." i stated softly, my head clenching.

chris turned his head to the side as he reciprocated the arm cross, his bangs covering his eyes. "doesn't feel like a team when all you do is question me. and everything i do. i mean come on."

i felt tears begin to well up in my eyes as i stared at chris. "i'm not.. i'm not trying to question you, i'm just worried about us.. i feel like i'm losing what i love most, i feel like i'm losing you."

chris's eyes remained on the wall. while it seemed like his expression softened for a moment, his frustrated expression quickly returned. "maybe you are, y/n. maybe this isn't working."

his words hung in the air. heavy and painful. i felt like the ground had been ripped out from under me. "is that.. is that how you really feel?" i questioned, my voice trembling as it was just barely above a whisper.

chris's eyes remained to the side. "i don't know. i just can't keep doing this."

the silence that followed was deafening. with a soft wipe of a tear, i took a deep breath. "right. if that's how you feel, then i'll go." i stated, disbelief evident in my voice as i collected my hoodie and car keys.

chris seemed to take a shaky breath with some hesitation, his heart torn. but his anger and confusion seemed to get the better of him as he stood and watched me with an emotionless expression.

without another word, i stepped out of chris's room, the door slamming on my way out.

two days had gone by since that conversation, and i couldn't help but think about it every given moment. the scene repeated in my head.

my eyes remained glued to the ceiling, my body trembling from the cold. but i didn't have the energy to reach over and grip my blanket to pull over myself.

clank.

my eyes opened, but my body didn't move.

clank.

i slowly lifted my head and turned to the window that the sound had come from, flinching slightly when it had occurred a third time.

clank.

i shakily slid out of bed, finally gaining the energy to grab my blanket and wrap around myself.

the floorboard beneath me creaked as i took a few shaky steps, gently taking the thin curtain between my fingertips. i gently pulled it away and looked outside, flinching at the fourth rock that had come in contact with my window.

with a shaky grunt, i pulled open the window and looked outside.

my eyes met with a pair of bright blue ones, his brunette hair shaggy and his body covered in a black hoodie and blue jeans with air forces.

i stared at him in disbelief before i let out a deep sigh. "chris."

"can we please talk?" chris questioned.

i narrowed my eyes at him before i stepped back and shut my window, making my way down the stairs quickly and to the door.

when i opened the door, chris was already standing there.

i stared up into his eyes, which were red and brimmed with tears, probably similar to how mine looked.

"what are you doing here?" i questioned, my voice firm yet soft, as i hadn't really spoken much the last two days.

"i needed to see you," he said, his voice cracking slightly, "please, can i come in?"

with a soft nod, i stepped to the side and allowed him to make his way inside, shutting the door behind him.

we made our way to the kitchen, where i opened the fridge to shakily offer him a pepsi.

chris stared at it for a moment. he seemed to think about it. i furrowed my eyebrows, but they quickly returned to their original place as chris took the pepsi and smiled softly. "thanks."

we stood there for a moment, chris having yet to open his pepsi.

after a few moments, chris let out a deep sigh and set the pepsi down on the counter beside him. "y/n, i'm sorry." he began, his voice heavy with remorse. "i shouldn't have said what i said. i overreacted, and.. i was angry. and hurt. but that's no excuse."

i stared at him for a moment as i brought my arms up to cross over my chest.

"i know i've been pushing you away. i've been scared. scared of losing you, scared of getting hurt. but i realize now that pushing you away is the worst thing i could do."

tears welled up in my eyes as he spoke. "chris.."

chris very cautiously took a step closer to me. "i love you y/n, more than anything. and i'm willing to do what it takes to make this right. please, let me make this right. i want us to work. i want to be better for you."

i looked at him, searching his eyes for sincerity. i saw the pain and regret in them, but also a glimmer of hope. with a deep breath, i felt my own resolve wavering.

"chris, i need to know that you're serious. i need to know that you're not just doing this because you're afraid to lose me."

chis reached out, gently taking my hand. "i am serious, y/n. i've been doing a lot of thinking, and i realize that i need to face my fears and insecurities head-on. i want to work through them, with you. i want us to build a future together.

i felt my heart soften at his words. i had missed him so much. missed the warmth of his embrace and the way he made me feel safe. but i had to be sure.

"chris, if we're going to do this, we need to communicate better. we need to be honest with each other, even when it's hard."

chris nodded, his grip on my hand tightening. "i promise, y/n. no more hiding, no more running away. we'll face everything together."

i took a deep breath feeling a flicker of hope in my chest. i squeezed his hand gently, offering a small smile. "okay, let's try." i smiled and nodded reassuringly.

chris smiled brightly at me. "i'm willing to put in the effort. i just want to be with you."

we stood there, holding each other's gaze. in this moment, we both knew that we had a long road ahead, but we're willing to walk it together. the love we've shared is worth fighting for, and i know that we're ready to face whatever challenges come our way.

chris pulled me into a gentle embrace, his heart swelling with gratitude. "thank you, y/n. for giving us another chance."

i rested my head against chris's chest, feeling the steady beat of his heartbeat. "thank you for coming back for me. for us."

we stood there, wrapped in each other's arms. inside, we know we have a lot to work through, but i know we're ready to face it together. one step at a time. and with the glimmer of hope that we both feel, i can't wait for the brighter future built on love, trust, and understanding.

taglist;; @sturnsxplr-25 @vampiree-555 @wh0resstuff @jetaimevous @sturnioloshacker

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris x reader #chris #angst #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo angst

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causenessus · 3 days

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cold kisses

part 0.3. USER 7193

PLAYING FROM KODZUKEN'S STREAM . . . feels by calvin harris

maybe he should have expected this.

nearly all of his posts have been overrun with questions about y/n in the comments. the comments range from simple “who was the girl in your cooking stream??” demands to extremely specific ones detailing her exact hair color, height, and voice pitch as if he’s had another mysterious girl on a stream that he’ll confuse her for.

he’s been doing his best to avoid questions about her but it could only work for so long. now there’s only questions about y/n left in the chat and he’s not sure what to do. it was easy to ignore the questions when he wasn’t doing an entire question and answer live stream but he’d promised to do one soon and he thought having shoyo with him was going to help.

it did for the most part, and everything seemed normal but he was at a loss for words when the chat started to flood with questions about y/n.

shoyo leaned closer to read a question outloud, “‘girl from the cooking stream?’ i keep seeing that, do they not know–”

a reflex kicks in and he slaps a hand over shoyo’s mouth, pushing him away from the screen again before removing his hand trying to act normal.

the ginger looks at him, a mix of surprise and confusion on his face. “sorry,” kenma apologizes quickly, shocked by his own actions. “no, they don’t know anything about her,” he answers, trying to make it clear that he wants to keep it that way.

but the chat is already too far gone, using this one mention to run wild with theories. he can’t blame them, really. sometimes they’re a little over the top and unnecessarily pushy as if they have no sense of respect but in this scenario what else could they talk about besides a mysterious person that just entered the picture? but that didn't mean he enjoyed dealing with it.

messages transition quickly from asking what they “don’t know about” to inferring that he has a secret girlfriend. he groans, looking away from the screen. his mind working fast to try and come up with an excuse or explanation; a single mention of her and they already think he’s dating someone. he’s sure that the internet would go crazy with this information as well, fabricating stories, scandals, and everything in between.

his phone starts to buzz.

speak of the devil.

it’s a notification from twitter, some unofficial update account that’s tagged him about having a secret girlfriend.

he needs to think.

he can see shoyo eyeing him out of the corner of his eyes and he knows he’s been silent for too long on camera.

god, someone was going to find out who she was soon, right? weren’t fans supposed to be good at doxxing each other?

but how does he play off being roommates with an olympic athlete? an olympic athlete whose currently being shipped to the max with the most typical copy and paste guy everyone has the hots for?

maybe it’d be better for him to leave it to a random fan to find out who she is and announce it to the world–no, then he’ll just look bad for hiding things after so much has already come to light. it’s best for him to come up with an excuse right now. if he said she was his girlfriend maybe he could ask them to leave her alone. maybe they’d listen to him.

it sounded like his best option but he couldn’t just make that decision on his own without talking to her.

but he also couldn’t stand up and the leave the room for an unprecedented amount of time after keeping quiet for so long.

he looks at the chat one more time, seeing the word girlfriend in nearly every message. if they already think they’re dating it can’t be that bad, right?

“kenma…?” shoyo breaks him out of a trance, touching him on the back.

kenma looks at him, unsure of what to say. he feels dizzy and his mind won’t stop whirring with thoughts and worries.

“you’ve been really quiet,” shoyo lowers his voice so that only kenma can hear him, “i think you need to say something.”

he glances at the chat again. still stuff about y/n.

she’d be okay with it, right? maybe if she isn’t he’ll just tell twitter that his girlfriend broke up with him because his fans are pushy little shits and he’ll agree with her word for word and then his fans will cancel him and he can move to another country and live a happy little life working in a cat shelter–

no. he likes his life the way it is now. he’s winged everything so far but he’s grown quite a small community for himself this way. he can do this. if y/n doesn’t agree, he’ll figure something out later.

“okay,” kenma finally speaks, dropping his hands that he’s been running through his hair absentmindedly. “since none of you guys are gonna leave this alone, yes. the girl from that last stream is my girlfriend, happy?” he watches his chat run wild with numerous exclamations. he thinks finally about his poor moderators. he’ll definitely have to give them something after this stream. “i’ve been trying to lay low about it because i didn’t want the world to freak out but now it’s out. just try and be respectful, okay? i love her a lot.” the words aren’t hard to say when they’re about her. he can say them honestly and play them off as a joke later, but for now he enjoys how nice it feels to say it.

he can see that shoyo has frozen up out of the corner of his eye. he needs to end this stream before either of them say something else they shouldn’t. he’ll answer a few more questions and slowly ease into a goodbye so that he can end the stream and debrief shoyo.

prev. | m.list | next

extras <3

this is a long chapter i'm sorry 💀 literally there's more but i tried to split this evenly into two chapters

kenma was literally just going through some random person's account who made edits of ice skating partners to self sabotage himself

yn wasn't sure when they'd be releasing partner pair ups and really freaked out when they were announced

she was texting everyone and tweeting a ton

she messaged her media girl like "hey i'm not comfortable with people sending me writing shipping me with atsumu can we please do something about it" and the girl replied, "what do you want me to do?? report them?? write you a message that you can tweet about your boundaries?? (yes) if that's what they want to write deal with it at least they like u"

and they wonder why she just posts whatever she's feeling on her main unless iwa tells her otherwise

noya has gotten distracted from the main topic of a chat to reply with a <3 to something nice y/n says multiple times

they're fr just best buds holding hand in the middle of a warzone where iwaizumi reigns over all

(the only two soldiers are suna and tsukishima)

suna's a lot softer without tsukishima around

he just feels like he needs his guard up around such a salty person

do not ask me why i made rofltropper an antagonist for no reason

kageyama was really just trying to finally do his english homework while waiting for hinata to come home and then he heard kuroo and oikawa start to yell

he was a little scared but then was like "if they can't reach me i'm safe" and they they slammed the door shut and his room shook a little

someone on the floor probably wrote up a complaint about them

taglist: @rinheartshyunlix @kettlepop @eggyrocks @cr4yolaas @httpakkeiji @keioover @does-directions @calx-bdo @staygoldsquatchling02 @cherrypieyourface @iluv-ace @kitty-m30w @h3xi2g0n3 @mylahrins @thechaosoflonging @momoriii-i @localgaytrainwreck @a-pastel-edgelord @bugglesboop @polish-cereal @osakis-gf @whykirbo @phoenix-eclipses @faesix @ryeyeyer @starxq.zip @skylarkalchemist @kunimix @sereniteav @kodzubaby (form to be added to taglist! <3)

#kozume kenma #kenma kozume #kenma #kenma x reader #kenma smau #haiykuu smau #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #hq #hq x reader

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cyberseong · 2 days

Text

reflections.

pairing: jongho x f!reader

genre: smau, best friend!jongho

warnings/topics: there’s quite a bit of plot before it gets to the actual smut, slight angst in the beginning, y/n goes through a breakup, lots of kisses and comfort, dacryphilia, pussy eating, protected vaginal sex, praises, excessive use of pet names, biting, marking, cocky jongho(?).

word count: 1.9k

she threw her phone across the floor after seeing even more photos on his story, deciding that she couldn’t bear to look any longer. it only increased the intensity of the pain in her chest, and she really couldn’t take that feeling in a stronger dose at the moment. her head fell into her hands; she knew she couldn’t contain the noises of her compressed sobs anymore.

as soon as she looks up to catch her breath, the sound of a key turning into her front door’s lock is heard. that’s when it dawned on her.

y/n hadn’t answered her best friend, jongho, in days. he was the only other person who had a key to her apartment.

before she could even attempt to compose herself, jongho pushed the door open and rushed in with a sense of panic and worry oozing from his body. “y/n? are you hom- oh.”

once jongho turned his head in the direction of the living room, he paused in his tracks and his words. he ran over to y/n, immediately kneeling in front of her wilting character. his hand made its way to y/n’s face, gently wiping the running tears from her cheeks. the other one went to her shoulder as a way to comfort her; he ran his hand up and down the small of her back as he scanned over her current state.

“y/n, what’s been going on these last few days? does it have something to do with that asshole? everyone’s been worried about you, y’know,” jongho spoke with his eyebrows furrowed; his eyes were glossed over with a pleading expression— he knew y/n wasn’t one to really open up about major problems, but this seemed way too serious for it to have just been ignored.

y/n sniffled, finally looking up to meet jonghos eyes. she frowned deeply, causing jongho to give her a sympethetic look. “it’s him… he– he dumped me, and i think he was cheating on me?” y/n hiccupped on her words, speaking with an unsure tone at the end. she went to reach for her phone that she previously thrown away from herself, but jongho quickly blocked her hand and proceeded to push the device even farther away from her reach.

“that’s so fucking expected of him too, god,” he paused, attempting to regain his composure after hearing what y/n had been so upset about over the last few days. “listen. everyone knew he wasn’t shit since the day he came into your life. he doesn’t deserve you, y/n. there’re so many other people who would treat you way better than he ever could— people who would cherish every part of you and not treat you like just another bitch in their contacts.”

jongho was seething. he knew his words were harsh, but he truly just wanted the best for his best friend. seeing her treated horribly by a man that was less than worthy of her attention was the quickest way to see jongho as angry as possible.

“well, i don’t know what i’m supposed to be treated like. i’ve only ever dated people like him, and now you’re telling me that i deserve way better? what does that even mean, jongho?” y/n questioned. her tears were now fully dried against her face, and the only noise that sounded throughout the room were her periodic sniffles and the occasional sighs from jongho.

“well,” jongho muttered in an almost mocking tone. his face was now closer to hers than it ever has been, which led y/n to wonder if jongho had always been this beautiful, or if it was just her mind’s desperate attempt at trying to forget her ex. “let me show you what that means, doll.”

before y/n even has a chance to process jongho’s words, he moves in to close the gap between their lips, kissing y/n with a feeling that couldn’t be any more foreign to her; love. y/n knew the intensity of jongho’s kisses and passion was definitely not something shared between friends. she decided she would confront him about it later; right now, she only wanted to focus on forgetting.

jongho slowly moved from y/n’s lips, down to her neck, painting it with dozens of sensual kisses and bites. he took his sweet time, as his whole goal was for y/n to take in and cherish how it feels to be truly appreciated by someone.

y/n would release airy moans each time jongho nipped at her skin– she could feel the blood rush to the surface of her skin, causing an overwhelming feeling to bubble in the pit of her stomach. “jongho, please, t-too slow,” y/n whimpered quietly from the agonizing pace jongho was progressing at. luckily, he took the hint from her words, immediately lifting y/n up from the floor— bridal style— and bringing her to the couch in her living room. He figured that would be more comfortable than the floor regardless.

“are you alright to keep going?” jongho speaks softly, almost in a whisper. y/n quickly responded to him with a stern nod, her head in a downturned position as she was fixated on jongho’s hands. she was this close to begging for his touch; y/n was sure jongho could feel her desperation at this point.

jongho sighed, using his index finger and thumb to lift her head up, forcing their eyes to meet before he spoke once again, “let’s use our words, sweetheart, hm? are you alright to keep going?” jongho’s gaze was strong and intimidating, causing y/n to look away quickly. she would be lying if she said the way he looked at her didn’t turn her on, and she knew if she met his eyes again, she’d moan from how dominant the gaze he held was. not that jongho would mind, anyway.

“yes, jongho, please, you don’t need to be so gentle,” y/n pleaded— she was more than certain that jongho wasn’t usually like this; his soft demeanor was most definitely because he was considering her current fragile mindset.

jongho only gave a smile at her words. he immediately went to pull y/n’s shirt over her head, to which she lifted her arms to allow him easier access for the action. once the shirt is off, he throws it to the ground, proceeding to pepper kisses from along y/n’s breasts, traveling down to her midriff. he cherished every portion of her body, almost as if he was worshipping it. eventually, jongho couldn’t handle any more of y/n’s breathy moans paired with the fall and rise of her stomach against his face.

jongho swiftly hooked his fingers onto the waistband of y/n’s sweats, pushing them down below her ankles and onto the floor. she wore a pair of lacy pastel pink panties that perfectly hugged her figure and complimented her complexion. he pressed his thumb gently against y/n’s clothed clit, earning a whimper from y/n’s lips as her legs attempted to squeeze shut. jongho pried them open, holding them in place as his lips placed even more kisses across her inner thigh, inching closer and closer to her core. he removed his finger, quickly pulling y/n’s underwear down where they joined the pile of clothes that slowly grew on the ground. jongho replaced his finger with his lips, now using his tongue to lap up the slick that oozed out of y/n’s hole. her moans increased in volume as jongho tongue fucked her gently and fastly— it was obvious that he’d had previous experience. y/n’s legs were basically trapping jongho in his current position, as the pleasure from his tongue was too intense for her legs to stay open.

soon enough, y/n came on jongho’s tongue, eliciting screams from her lips as jongho sucked on her clit to help her ride out the climax. her body shook from overstimulation, tears forming at the corners of her eyes before they fell down her cheeks.

“jongho, please— need you inside of me, i can’t,” y/n spoke, albeit incoherently, but jongho still understood what she was asking for. he removed his face from her wet folds, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his hoodie before bringing his face back up to hers. he carefully took in her current state— the fucked out look plastered across her face, the panted breaths that could be heard from up close, and the tears on her face that glistened in the light. jongho could feel his pants tighten even more than they already were at the sight, physically holding himself back from trailing his tongue across the stream of tears.

“i know, doll, you’re doing so well already, just be patient, okay? just for me, pretty girl,” jongho spoke softly, unbuttoning and unzipping the fly of his jeans, stripping his clothes off quickly. he grabbed a condom from the inside of his wallet, briskly ripping open the package with his teeth before rolling it onto his erect cock. he desperately lined it up with her entrance, teasing y/n slightly by tapping his tip against her clit. she mewled in frustration, to which jongho giggled, “alright, i’m sorry love, i’ll stop teasing— god, you’re so pretty like this,” jongho groaned as he sunk into her pussy slowly, allowing time for her to adjust to his size. the room was filled with sinful noises as jongho thrusted roughly into y/n, abusing her cervix as the slaps of skin and moans were the only things to linger around them.

“he’s never fucked you like this, hm? i bet he’s never heard all your beautiful sounds like this, hm, doll?” jongho mutters as he fucked at an animalistic pace, chasing both of your highs with his thrusts.

“yes, n-never, fuck, i’m so close, please, jongho,” y/n whined, quickly getting cut off as loud moans erupted from her throat yet again. jongho’s groans became more audible as his climax bubbled up inside of him, sweat dripping from his forehead as he bottomed out inside of y/n. the duo came at the same time, almost as if their climaxes were synced together. he released a vocal moan as his cum spilled inside the condom.

as jongho pulled out, y/n whimpered from the sudden emptiness inside of her. she felt as if she couldn’t even move with the numb and static feeling that plagued her body.

“feeling okay, sweetheart? come on, i’ll run you a bath, you look exhausted,” jongho smiled, returning to his gentle self once everything had finished.

y/n only gave him a nod, feeling too tired to speak. jongho understood, quickly slipping on his boxers again before lifting y/n up into his arms and carrying her to the bathroom.

y/n couldn’t thank jongho enough for deciding to check on her today.

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez smut #ateez x reader #atz smut #atz x reader #jongho #jongho x reader #jongho smut #jongho fanfic #jongho fic #choi jongho #ateez jongho

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zenitsus-lightning · 3 days

Text

- ,, 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐯𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

SUMMARY -> satochoso x reader (choso x satoru x reader) where satoru is on a long mission. its just you and choso at home,and its really... quiet without satoru. you miss him - that's obvious, but choso misses him more than he'd like to admit. he acts all tough and acts like he doesn't really miss him, but its pretty obvious that's a lie.

A/N -> wowoowowow my first jjk fic!! i hope this is good and i havent proofread this so there might be mistakes, and i cant even bear to read my own writing anyway cuz wtf its so cringey reading my stuff and i dont like this too much anyway. and i havent written anything in ages so i might be a lil rusty... also i never specified the readers gender (I THINK) so gn!reader!!

Dating the strongest sorcerer obviously came with challenges. He'd be away constantly on missions, which were life or death, meaning you didn't see him as often as you'd like. One good part about it though is that he never came back beaten or bruised. All the curses he fought were nothing compared to him - like ants he'd tread on.

Luckily for you, you were never alone when he was gone. You had some very good company from your boyfriend. Well, your other boyfriend, because you had two. Of course Satoru was one, but the other was Choso. His tough guy exterior always meant he never showed signs of missing Satoru. He usually just went around with his usual schedule and comforted you if you were missing the sorcerer.

So Satoru was on another one of those dreadfully long missions now. You weren't worried about anything happening to him, of course. You just wanted him home soon. It didn't look like the mission would allow that, unfortunately.

The house felt empty and lifeless without him. He would often follow you around everywhere, accompanying you, or Choso, in whatever mundane task you set yourself to. His energetic voice would be the only thing breaking the silence.

It felt odd not having that voice accompany you as you were regularly sitting down in the living room. You could only really sit there in silence, head in your hands. The room's silence was awkward and almost deafening.

Of course Choso was sitting on the opposite side. He could barely take the silence. He looked at you, wondering if he should say anything. You did look like you needed a bit of comfort.

So he clears his throat, leaning toward you.

"You okay?" He mutters. He's not sure how to start a conversation.

"Yeah," You respond, turning your head to look at him. "are you?"

"Yeah," Choso says. Fuck, that was awkward. He curses himself in his head and decides to ask something else. "are you missing him?"

"Of course I am." You sigh, but you smile at him.

Choso always likes to make out that he's a big tough guy that never misses his boyfriend when he's on a long mission. He can handle himself, he can do everything himself, he's fine without him. He's independant. But you don't buy this for a second.

"Are you?"

"I'm fine." He says. He answers a little too fast. "I mean - I'm fine without him. I can function without him."

Yeah right. You raise an eyebrow at him skeptically.

"Yeah right. I see the way you mope around when he's gone." You say.

It's true. He does mope around when Satoru's gone. There's no more voice in his ear narrating everything he does, teasing the life out of him, when Satoru is away. It seems so silent, so lifeless. He can't help hanging his head.

"Fine - but you mope around as well." He doesn't even try to defend himself at this. If you can call him out for moping around, he can too. He crosses his arms.

"Yeah, but I don't pretend I don't miss my boyfriend." You retort.

Maybe he does miss him a lot. He doesn't like to look clingy or needy, which is why he always denies that he misses Satoru. He just decides to change the topic. You've won that one.

"He's supposed to be home today, right?" Choso says. He doesn't like to admit it, but he's been counting down the days.

"Is he?" You say, perking up. It feels like forever since he left.

"Yeah. I checked this morning." He says.

"And when exactly is he home?" You question further.

"... Late. He's going to be home late." Choso says.

It feels like forever since that conversation with Choso. What time is it now? 6 PM? It feels pretty late, but not that late. Time just seems to drag on no matter what. You're just waiting for the sound of the door handle's click and for it to swing open and have Satoru's voice call out.

You're imagining it. You've imagined it - the door swings open, he calls out, and you and Choso run into his arms and-

Your thoughts are interrupted by the click of the door handle. You perk up - Choso does too - and you both get up and head toward the front door. The door swings open, and the familiar tall figure of Satoru strides in.

He's instantly greeted by your arms swinging around his neck. He loudly chuckles. He doesn't even seem fazed by the sudden hug. He wraps his arms around you in return, kissing your cheek.

You can't see him, but you know he looks up for Choso. He eyes him under his blindfold with a smirk.

"C'mon." Satoru says, lifting his arm out while his other arm still hold you.

"No." Choso says, crossing his arms. Satoru pouts.

"Pleasseeee? I can't have a hug with my favourite partners without my favourite boy."

Choso mutters something under his breath. Despite this, he approaches with his arms outstretched. Satoru's face lights up. He literally grabs Choso's wrist and tugs him into the hug. He looks delighted.

The hug lasts a while. That's because nobody wants to pull away. Nobody wants out of the hug. It's amazingly quiet. Choso isn't complaining and Satoru isn't going on about how much he missed both of you. It's just dead silent. You're just enjoying each other's company.

But you have to let go eventually. Satoru eases his arms off you and Choso.

"Now, what have you been up to while I was gone?" Satoru questions. But he sees the looks on your faces and his smile grows even wider. "So you missed me so much you didn't even go out?"

Choso crosses his arms.

"Aw," Satoru grins. He looks so proud of himself. "But I think I'm gonna go unwind. You'll be fine without me for a little, right?" He says, looking between you two.

"Yeah," Choso responds.

"Great. I'll be back in a few minutes." He says, grinning.

As he walks off, he pauses just after walking past both of you. He turns on his heel and goes back to the both of you, kissing your cheek and then Choso's. After this, he turns back around and leaves to go unwind.

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spidybaby · 1 day

Note

Dull shine part 2 pleeeeease 😫❤️ ur srsly talented!!!

Dull Shine | Part Two

Summary: An advice and looking into the mirror makes Kylian understand why you left.

Warnings: cursing, depression topic, money issues.

A/N: It's meeee hiiii, I'm the problem it's ME. Sorry about taking so much time, I was solving some personal things, and now I'm freeeee 😫✨️ love you all so much ❤️

Also, heads-up, this is short because I think it's all it needs, not a full part two, more like a compliment that seals the deal 😀❤️

Part one

One day left.

That's what Kylian told himself when he woke up.

One day left for you to come back.

He can't deny that he wasn't the most excited person in the room the next day at practice. Everybody noticed, it was like everybody knew what happened that night.

But not at Luis Enrique's home. At his own, when he told you to move on from the problem he created.

When he ignored you, back turned to you. When you needed him the most. Every time he thinks about it, his heart sinks. It's a weight he's not able to lift.

His mother was the first to notice your absence. He walked into his home with something for you and you weren't there.

The first excuse. "She's working late."

Then it was Ethan. He called you to go to the movies and have a fun night. Wanting to see you after being busy with the team.

The second excuse. "She's sick, have a cold."

They both believed his words. Thinking you were being taken care of by him. But when the excuses kept coming. It wasn't normal anymore.

"Just be honest, we are your family." Fayza says. Sitting next to him. "Tell us what happened."

He sighs, ready to finally disclose his feelings. "She left a week and a half ago." He confess. Hands covering his face. "We had a fight, I said some things just days before, and she wasn't at the right mental place to deal with everything."

They didn't understood. How?

"What do you mean she left?" Ethan asks, standing up from his seat. "She left just like that? You let her leave just like that?"

"What was I supposed to do?" Kylian fights back. "She had her things packed, her ticket purchased and I thought that was the best thing. Don't you think this hurts me?"

"I can't believe you, Kylian. You lie to us, instead of admit that you fucked up. You lie straight to our faces."

"I was hurt, Y/n left, I was scared of facing that."

Fayza is silent, processing the information while her sons yell at each other.

"Enough, Ethan, sit down." She orders. "Kylian, you two broke up?"

He shakes his head no. "She just needed time. We were just not working together in understanding each others probl-"

"More like you weren't." Ethan interrupts. "Because all I hear is me, me, me. But you don't really think that same thinking got you where you are?"

He didn't fight back.

He knows his little brother is right.

"When will she be back?" His mother asks, worried expression.

"In a few days."

And those few days turned into just a few hours.

To be honest with himself, he was stressed. You were going to be back in Paris, but we're you going to be back with him?

Will the break become a breakup?

He was overthinking. That was not good.

Hakimi felt bad. He knew you better. When he heard what Kylian told him about you leaving, about Pamela belittling you, he checked his cameras.

The good thing about having money is that you can afford a very good quality security system. He heard how Pamela attacked you first. You then answered back, but you weren't going to let yourself get insulted.

He apologized to you over text. Asking you to forgive him and tell you how much guilt he feels about this whole situation.

When you read the texts, you felt weird. It wasn't his fault, or even Pamela's.

Everything was a mix of frustration, sadness and low self-respect you had for yourself.

You defend yourself from Pamela, but who was going to defend you from yourself?

You were the one belittling yourself.

Were you enough? You are.

But were you feeling enough? No.

Were you happy with Kylian?

And that question burned your mind for days.

You loved Kylian, he was your rock and you were his rock. You passed some critical times, but nothing like this.

Because he was there for you when you needed him the most, he was there when you lost someone, he was there when you felt homesick, he was there at you happiest.

But you didn't allow him to he at your lowest.

You notice how he was going out more, but he always asked you to come with him. Begged you to leave the house and accompany him.

You notice how he never heard you talk. But you barely even made conversation. You let him speak. When it was your turn, you only said, "I had a good day."

He had to fulfill the quietness with words.

Your mother asked you to think about therapy. Maybe there was something you needed that she or anyone couldn't understand. Something only you could.

And you did. You went to therapy while you were there. Every two days.

It was just the beginning, but it helped you understand that you had more than just a relationship problem. In fact, the relationship problem came from this.

Being blue is normal. We all feel like that.

But when you don't treat it, it can be rough. And you were doing that now, understanding that you needed help. Help that a trip home won't give you. Help that a fight with your friends new girlfriend won't give you.

But help that your lover can give you. He can be the hand to hold during this.

"Are you sure you'll be okay?"

"Yes, I know now what I need to do." You say, hugging your friend.

You felt nervous about coming back.

Would he be okay with that?

Did he realize he didn't need you anymore?

If only you knew how anxious he is at Paris. Watching the time every five minutes to see if your arrival time is coming closer.

He prepared your favorite meal. Got your favorite dessert, your favorite drink and even prepare everything for a bubble bath.

He needed you to know how much he appreciates you, how important you are for him.

You were nervous too, your leg bouncing and bitting your nails. You brought him a gift from your home. Something he asked you a long time ago, and you never got due to not being able to travel back home.

You asked for an Uber. Not wanting his chauffeur to pick you or him to get out in the coldness of Paris.

The whole drive was painful. You were overthinking.

Both of you were.

"Would she be back to stay?"

"Is this going to end?"

"What if he doesn't want me back?"

"What if this is the end?"

"Madame, we are here." The Uber called your attention once your things were next to you on the street.

"Merci beaucoup." You say, paying him and telling him that you will take it from here.

You open the gate with your control. The sound of it interrupting the calm of the evening.

When he heard the sound, his heart stopped for a second. He was about to throw up from nerves.

The giggle of the keys makes him stop, he feels like throwing up. He took a sip of water before looking at himself on his phone camera, checking if he looked presentable.

The smell of food hits you as soon as you walk inside. Leaving your suitcase by the stairs and slowly walking inside trying to find him.

His back welcomes you, he's focused on his phone to notice you walking into the kitchen. The table was ready, your favorite food ready to be served.

"Kyks?"

He turns quickly, smiling at you with soft eyes. He walks with open arms to you. You lock your arms behind his back, feeling his kisses on your face.

"Mon amour." He kiss your forehead. "How was your flight? Did you even sleep? Are you hungry? I made your favorite meal and I was waiting f-"

You interrupted him by kissing his lips, and all the worries from both of you are out the door. You know he's not mad, and he knows you still love him.

"It was good. Thank you for updating my seat." You answer his questions. "I did sleep, almost all the flight, and I'm very hungry. Thank you for cooking. I can't wait to try it."

He kiss you on the lips, smiling into the kiss. His safe space is back with him. There is nothing better right now.

He pulls you to the chairs, serving you the food and drink. You can tell he was happy. He looked fresh.

You eat in silence. The peace of it is different than before. There was no more weird silence that a video or keyboard sound filled.

"Thank you, I really appreciate this."

He nods, waiting for the right time to talk about all the things that need to be talked about. He lays his head on your shoulder. Kissing your neck.

You feel the same. You want to jump and talk about everything to end the topic and move on. But that was not the way.

However, procrastinating the conversation wasn't the way either. "Let's talk. The faster, the better." You smile.

"Impatient much?" He jokes. Standing up and taking the plates to the sink. "Let's go to the living room?"

You nod, standing up and grabbing his hand, directing him to the big fluffy couch you both love.

"I want to start." He says as soon as his body falls into the cushion.

"Okay, lovie." You smile.

He thinks for a second, how can he ask what he needs to ask? He knows that no matter what, it will hit.

"Why weren't you honest about you having money issues?"

Your expression didn't change. You knew he knew. Celine asked you to pick your check a few days after you asked her you were taking a few days off to rest your mind.

You asked Kylian to pick it up, and Celine gave him a piece of her mind. She felt bad about doing it and called you a few hours later.

She told him that he was an asshole if he couldn't even tell that you were having issues not only with your peace of mind but with how much you worked and felt bad about never been able to match the lifestyle he was.

"I don't have money issues, Ky." You say, low but enough for him to hear. "What I had was the concept that I needed to have a certain amount of money to be enough for you. Leading to me working extra and feeling less than everybody who was around and could give themselves the benefit of spending what I earned in a nightclub."

He nods, understanding. "You know that I'm not like that, right?"

"I do. You always supported me in any way you could. And I'm grateful for you. I just felt so out of place." You sigh. "And every girl who got close to your friends always asked me about your ex, how she was this way and this way. I felt like competing."

He can feel his heart sinks. He never wanted you to compare yourself to the girls he dated. There was a reason why he was done with those relationships.

"You are so smart." He says, hand caressing your cheek. "You have no idea how much I ever wanted to end with someone like you. Not only beautiful but a very strong woman who doesn't need other peoples opinions and who can shine on her own."

You can feel your eyes watering. You never thought that his words were something you needed, but you did.

"My ex-girlfriends are just that. Exes. You are my present and my future." He kiss your cheek. "And I want you to know that no amount of money or any girl who I ever got anything with is going to take the place you have in my heart. You are the one."

Your lips found his, you can't think of any future plans or anything that didn't include him. You know he was your one, and knowing you are his one is heartwarming.

"I'm sorry, I know I was acting like a bitch. I think I felt way too comfortable, and I was so wrong for not noticing that you weren't you. I promise I'm not going to let that happen again."

"Thank you for that." You smile. "I'm sorry too, I was overwhelmed with all the thoughts in my mind. I think I let the worst of it hit me and never paint mind to it."

"It's okay." He brings your hand to his mouth, kissing it. "You have me, and I'm going to be with you every step of the way."

The warmth in your heart is hard to describe. You are sure he will be with you no matter what. The same way you were for him when he needed you.

You hug him, falling into his embrace. His hands caressing your body while he left sweet words in your ear.

"We are going to be okay because we have each other." He kiss your lips and your head. "Tu m’as et je t’ai. Je t’aime, tu es mon monde." He humms.

#football #football fanfic #football angst #kylian mbappe imagine #kylian x reader #kylian angst #kylian mbappe x reader #football fluff #kylian fluff #football x you

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cassandracain52 · 19 hours

Note

You made me think about immunocompromised Tim so now you suffer the consequences (my thoughts) :D

Disclaimer: I haven't actually read that particular arc yet - I'll get around to it, I swear! But I do know roughly what happens.

With the whole spleentuation Tim turns the Red Robin costume into what basically amounts to a Hazmat suit. He doesn't actually change much - he goes for full face coverage and introduces some airtight seals. It makes upkeep slightly more laborious and makes him a lot scarier than he wants to be but it's this or risking getting benched for an infection for an unreasonably long time. Bruce returns and doesn't even question the look until he finds older Red Robin costume without the Hazmat qualities and in an attempt of casual bonding asks Tim why he changed it. You can imagine how the rest goes.

Second scenario:

Bruce vanishes before the pandemic, when he returns the family is very careful with like, disinfecting everything and they always have gloves and masks on their person. He writes it off as a side-effect on the pandemic until he realises how much more careful everyone is around Tim

Third scenario:

Tim uses his general lack of an immune system as a way to get out of things he doesn't want to do where there'll be a crowd. Mostly Gala's. Like:

Tim: I'm worried I'll get sick when I go to the opening of the Lexcorps factory we need to make An Appearance at.

Bruce: You went to ComicCon last week, you'll be fine.

Tim: 🥺

And like, what's Bruce going to do? Tim is right he SHOULD be a lot more careful. He SHOULDN'T go to the gala. So he folds like wet paper without fail every time. Tim cuts his public appearances down to an absolute minimum. Jason is seen more often and he's supposed to be dead.

Tims coup de resistance (is that the saying) is getting to attend a business meeting virtually because one of the three (3) people there was travelling two weeks ago

Bruce: Tim you should go to sleep staying up this long is not good for your health your immune system will thank you.

Tim: what immune system.

Bruce: What do you mean what immune system.

Tim *chuckles*: I'm in danger.

Bruce: What do you mean what immune system.

Damian sneezes once and refuses to take off his mask for six days straight on the off-chance he'll get Tim sick. He was literally digging through the dusty attic. He is not sick. Tim isn't even around half the time. You don't need to sleep in the mask Damian. DAMIAN.

”Jason is seen more often and he's supposed to be dead.” <<<asfghjkl XD this is taking me OUT😭 I never really thought of Tim using this as a “get out of jail free” card but he so would. But only for things he doesn’t want to do. That party of maybe 200 guests at most? Nope sorry can’t do it, too risky. That concert with 50,000+ people? Completely fine

All these scenarios were so fun!! I especially appreciated “What do you mean what immune system.” and Tim just immediately starts sweating bullets cause Oh Did He Forget To Mention That?

and Damian would so be super paranoid to accidentally get Tim sick but also would never admit that because Tim Must Never Know He Worries About Him

Damian wearing a full mask, gloves, and maintaining a ten ft distance at all times because Jon (who has seasonal allergies) sneezed kinda close to him: You’re a disgrace to this family Drake. Do us a favor and die

Tim not falling for this for a second: Uh-huh so can I just- [attempts to take approximately One Step Closer]

Damian rapidly scrambling back: nO I HATE YOU STAY AWAY-

Please feel free to share your thoughts again🤣

#these were so fun #thank you for your contribution #I love asks #ive only gotten two but they’re fun #batfam #tim drake #tims missing spleen #damian wayne #dc comics

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niko-sasaki-dbd · 2 days

Text

So, I've seen several questions about this, so I'm gonna try to do my best to share my explanation of the:

THREE FLIGHTS AND ONE FERRY RIDE LATER

FIRST IF ALL: THE DESTINATION

Port Townsend is a city, located at the Quimper Peninsula, in the Jefferson County, Washington, USA.

There's several ways to get there, and one of them is by ferry, in the following map, you can see the geographical location, and the ferry route (Coupeville – Port Townsend).

Now, let's go back to the start!

FROM LONDON TO WASHINGTON (THREE FLIGHTS, I GUESS)

Here, the questions are not about the route, but the money. For a lot of people, the logical and immediate answer is that Crystal used her powers to get into an airplane, but I think is plausible that she didn't use them exactly to avoid paying, and if she did, she felt very guilty about it (I'm gonna explain this later).

What is certain is that she used her powers to avoid security and registration at the airport (all the airports), because there was no way a minor was leaving the country, or jumping from one jurisdiction to another without documentation, a passport or an ID.

About the route, there's a lot of options here, but if I believe Crystal didn't use her powers to avoid paying for the tickets, is simply because there were better options than taking three flights, and if she was going to stole the tickets anyway, why no choosing a direct flight? Or at least, a faster one?

I mean that could have saved her a lot of trouble, because going from one airport to another with Charles and Edwin quarreling around her is not exactly the definition of a holiday vacation.

I'm sure she would have chosen any flight that could take her to Washington the fastest, the thing is that she didn't.

She got into a flight with two connections, and secured herself a headache too, so I guess she used the money she had on her, or most logically, her money + the money from the agency (let's give the boys some credit, at the end of the day, they're good at their job, and they care about getting paid).

Now, the route could have been something like this (based on a real flight itinerary):

London, GB -> Frankfurt International, DE

Frankfurt International, DE -> Calgary Intl Airport, CA

Calgary Intl Airport, CA -> Seattle Tacoma Airport, US

[I'm using ISO 3166 country codes, instead of the airports abbreviations]

Which translates into:

First flight: 1 hour and 30 minutes (+1h 30min)

First layover: 2 hours (+2h)

Second flight: 10 hours (+10h)

Second layover: 5 hours (+5h)

Third flight: 2 hours (+2h)

All of these sums up 20 hours and 30 minutes of dealing with Bert and Ernie, without a possible escape.

But the point is, that there are faster routes; a direct flight, or even a flight with only one connection, has a duration of 14 hours or less and is only €100 more than the journey of nightmares I just described, so why did she pick the longer flight if she wasn't going to pay anyway? quality time with the boys? weren't they supposed to be in a hurry?

Obviously, is possible that the flight they took was the first available, or even that they took a flight to a different state, and then travelled within the US, but in either case, I'm sure they didn't pick the fastest route available and the only reason for that is the price of the plane tickets.

Additionally to that, Crystal didn't have much money left to pay for rent when they arrived, and she was the most worried about getting money out of the cases all the season.

FROM SEATTLE TO PORT TOWNSEND: WE'RE ALMOST THERE.

There's no direct way to get from the airport to Port Townsend, they need to get to the ferry terminal in Coupeville first.

Don't worry, is not that hard to get from Seattle to Coupeville, is a two-hour bus ride and the buses leave relatively often, and you can take one from the airport.

So, here we are, back at the beginning. Welcome to Port Townsend, you will surely be enchanted by its beautiful Victorian architecture and the witch kidnapping little girls.

Isn't it the coolest small town ever?

FINAL NOTE:

Clearly, I just did this for fun, but if it is helpful for some of you, that's great!

Doing this also made me came up with some headcanons, and I'm gonna be thinking about them for the next three business days.

#dead boy detectives #dead boy detective netflix #dead boy detective agency #dead boy detectives agency #crystal palace surname von hoverkraft #crystal palace #edwin payne #edwin paine #charles rowland #paineland #payneland #painland #paynland #chedwin #dbda fanfic #dbda meta #notebook entry #[s1e1] the case of crystal palace #dbda

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alinawritess · 1 day

Text

The Flicker of Old Flames

Vinnie Hacker x fem!reader x Matt Sturniolo

word count: 2.9k

warnings:

Heartbreak and Emotional Distress

Long-Distance Relationship Challenges

Nostalgia and Regret

Emotional Vulnerability

Brief Mention of Physical Affection

summary:

Four years ago, Vinnie and you, were once deeply in love, but had to part ways as both your skyrocketing careers in Hollywood and LA strained your long-distance relationship. The breakup was heartbreaking, leaving Vinnie with unresolved feelings. Now, at a glamorous Hollywood party, he unexpectedly encounters you, his former flame, who is now with the charismatic YouTube star Matt Sturniolo. As old emotions resurface, their polite yet charged interaction hints at unresolved tension and nostalgia.

A/N:

Was I high writing this? very much so! (who knew what 4 Advil pills can do to a girl)

If there are any spelling mistakes- blame Grammarly, girly was supposed to fix them!

Four Years Ago

Vinnie and you had been together for two wonderful years. Your relationship felt like a perfect fit, filled with love and understanding. But today, as you come through the apartment doors, exhaustion is written all over your face. Vinnie looks up upon hearing the door open.

"Hi, baby," he greets you with a smile.

"Hi, Mr. Hacker," you say, playfully using a new nickname. Vinnie chuckles. "That's a new nickname, I'd say."

He walks up to you and gently wraps his arms around your sides, but you pull back slightly. "Do you hate it you" you tease lightly.

"I never said that" as he plants a kiss on your forehead.

"So, what's on your mind today, my love?" he asks.

"We need to talk," you say, losing the grip he had on you. Vinnie's teasing expression fades into worry and concern. "A talk? Is something wrong, babe?"

"I feel like we're not on the same page in life as we used to be," you say, your voice tinged with concern.

Vinnie's expression becomes gentler. He lifts his hand to gently caress your face. "Oh, baby... What makes you think that?"

"You've been pretty distant with band things and photoshoots," you explain, "and I guess we only see each other once or twice a week."

Vinnie takes a deep breath and nods, understanding what you mean.

"You're right ... I've been distracted with band stuff and photoshoots. I never meant to make you feel like I was neglecting you ... I'm so sorry," Vinnie apologizes sincerely, his voice quiet and gentle.

"It's fine," you reassure him, "it's not like I'm saying stop chasing your dreams. I say go for it. But what if we took a break?"

"A break? You mean from the relationship?" Vinnie's voice is barely a whisper, his expression clearly one of heartbreak.

"Yeah..." you hesitate. "You know, maybe try things, chase our dreams."

Vinnie stands frozen in place, his wide eyes looking at you with disbelief. He's clearly not prepared for this conversation.

"You ... want us to break up?" he asks, his voice cracking.

"Kinda," you admit, "you know, try things, maybe chase our dreams."

Vinnie's expression falls even more, and his eyes plead with you. "But what about us? What about what we have? We're good together, aren't we?"

"We are, but the truth is we've been so distant with one another, like we barely have enough time for this relationship," you explain. "As you know, I'm going to be in Hollywood for a while for my upcoming movie, and you're going to be in LA. Is it truly going to work?"

Vinnie's jaw clenches tightly in disappointment, tears welling up in his eyes. "But... I love you," he whispers quietly, almost like he wanted you to hear him but not at all at the same time.

"I thought... you loved me like I loved you," he continues, and now tears roll down his face. "But I guess I was wrong ... I'm sorry I wasn't enough for you..."

"Vinnie, it's not like that, you know it," you say softly, trying to comfort him.

"I really don't," he chokes out, shaking his head. "How can you just throw away everything we had? What's wrong with me that you don't love me anymore?" He lifts his palms up to his face and scrubs away his tears, though they keep spilling out in endless waterfalls.

"I never said I don't love you," you clarify, "I just don't think I can do long distance."

"So ... this means I'll never get to hold you again? Or touch you? Or kiss you? Or hear your laughter and jokes that make my day?" Vinnie's voice cracks as he struggles to hold back his tears.

"I don't know, Vinnie," you admit, tears welling up in your own eyes, "I don't know what the future holds. I know because of this movie role, I'm going to be away for a long time."

Vinnie nods slowly, his eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and acceptance. "Yeah... long distance is tough. I'm just scared what happens if you... you know ... find someone new while you're away?"

"If I come back and we both have the same feeling for one another, maybe we could be... maybe," you suggest tentatively.

He nods ever so slightly again. "I guess this is it then," he whispers, his voice cracking as he struggles to speak. "But... can we at least have one final kiss? To cherish this moment and keep it forever?"

"How about a hug? A kiss would feel too intimate, don't you think?" you suggest.

"Yeah... a hug," he chokes out. Vinnie steps forward and wraps his arms around you in a firm embrace. He buries his face in your hair, his whole-body trembling as he fights away tears.

"I'm sorry," you say softly, tears streaming down your face.

"No, I'm the one who's so sorry I wasn't what you needed," he whispers, his voice cracking once more. "I loved you so much, and I promise I always will. I hope you find everything you're looking for."

"I hope you do too," you whisper back.

He holds you tightly for a few more moments, the embrace feeling like a bittersweet mixture of love and pain.

Eventually, he releases you, his expression a mix of sadness and acceptance. "Goodbye, my love..."

"Bye, Vin," you say softly.

Vinnie slowly walks towards the door and opens it, pausing for a moment to look back at you one final time. His tear-filled eyes meet yours for a few seconds before he steps out the door, disappearing into the unknown.

Present Day

Four years had passed since you and Vinnie had gone your separate ways, but the memories of your time together still lingered like ghosts from the past. You found yourself at a lavish Hollywood party, surrounded by the elite and celebrities, trying to navigate through the crowd with Matt Sturniolo, your new boyfriend. Matt was introducing you to various people, his hand possessively on your back, as you two made your way along the crowd.

Amidst the glamorous chaos, you spotted a familiar face—the one you thought you'd never see again. Vinnie stood out among the Hollywood elite, his charismatic presence and undeniable good looks drawing attention wherever he went. He was surrounded by people, laughing at his jokes and eagerly listening to his stories. It was clear he was thriving in the industry.

As if sensing your gaze, Vinnie glanced up and briefly met your eyes. For a moment, time seemed to freeze as memories flooded your mind. But all too quickly, he tore his gaze away and continued chatting with his entourage, as if nothing had happened.

Matt brought you in front of Vinnie, and you had to muster all your strength to act as if this was your first-time meeting. Your eyes locked onto Vinnie's, and you could see a flicker of recognition in his gaze, but he played along.

"Hey, nice to meet you," he said smoothly, offering a polite smile and extending his hand for a handshake.

You politely declined Vinnie's handshake, keeping your hand firmly clasped with Matt's as he introduced you as his girlfriend. Vinnie glanced at your intertwined hands, a subtle flicker of disappointment crossing his face before he quickly masked it with a neutral expression.

"Ah, got yourself a nice catch, Matt," Vinnie joked, his voice casual but his eyes betraying a hint of envy. He gave Matt's hand a firm shake before turning his attention to you. "Congratulations, to you both."

As the conversation continued, Vinnie tried his best to maintain his composure, engaging in small talk with you both. But beneath the surface, he couldn't help but feel a pang of longing and regret. He had lost you, and now, seeing you happy with someone else, hurt more than he anticipated.

Matt turned to Vinnie and asked, "So, have you found yourself a special someone yet, Vinnie?"

Vinnie chuckled, his eyes twinkling with a hint of humour. "Oh, you know me, Matt, always the bachelor. Haven't found the right person to settle down with yet."

"Ever did?" Matt asked.

"Well, there was one person," Vinnie admitted, his voice quieter, the hint of a smile playing on his lips. "We had something special, but life took us down different paths. Sometimes, I wonder if what we had could've been something more."

"What happened?" Matt asked, as you looked away, clenching your hand tighter around Matt's.

"We both had dreams and aspirations," Vinnie explained, his expression tinged with a hint of sadness. "I was focused on my music career, and she wanted to pursue her dreams in Hollywood. We tried to make it work, but the distance and our conflicting schedules made it challenging. In the end, we had to make a choice to follow our own paths."

"So, did you find what you were searching for, and did you ever see her again?" Matt asked.

"After her, I've had a few relationships here and there, but none quite like ours," Vinnie mused. "As for her, our paths have crossed at a few parties or events over the years, but we've kept our distance. Maybe one day, fate will bring us back together."

"It was nice chatting with you both," Vinnie said, his tone laced with a hint of sorrow mixed with acceptance. "Enjoy the party."

Matt nodded in agreement, expressing his parting greetings as well, and gently led you away to find a quieter spot for that much-needed breather. As you walked away, Vinnie found himself lost in his thoughts, unable to shake off the bittersweet memories of what once was. He took a deep breath and pushed the past aside, plastering a smile on his face as he turned back to the party, trying to revel in the present instead.

The rest of the evening passed by in a blur for Vinnie, his mind preoccupied with the unexpected encounter. Seeing you with another man had stirred up a myriad of emotions within him, forcing him to confront the lingering feelings he still harboured deep down. He tried to engage in conversations and interactions, but his thoughts kept drifting back to you, the one who once loved him. As the party drew to a close, Vinnie felt a sense of relief mixed with a bittersweet tinge. He knew that seeing you tonight had only served to reopen old wounds. As he made his way out of the venue, he couldn't help but wonder if fate would ever bring the two of you together again.

Sitting on the steps in your black dress, you wondered what was taking Matt so long. He had told you to meet him outside, but he still hadn't appeared. You contemplated whether you should go back into the party and search for him, even though everyone appeared happy in front of you, things were going wrong inside their relationship. As you looked up from the steps, there he was, looking down at you—an old love.

"Hey," he greeted softly, his voice tinged with both warmth and hesitation. "Mind if I join you?"

"Go ahead," you replied, a hint of bitterness in your voice. "It's not like my boyfriend is anywhere, and like the spot's reserved."

Vinnie let out a small chuckle at your remark, sensing the hint of bitterness in your words. He took a seat beside you on the steps, respectfully leaving a little space between you two as he gazed out at the cityscape before you.

"It's nice out here," he commented softly, before adding, "Not much of a party person, are you?"

"Never was, even with you," you replied, a wistful tone in your voice. "But neither were you."

Vinnie smiled softly, the corner of his lip curving up in a bittersweet smile. "You're right, I never was much of a party person," he admitted, his gaze distant as he reminisced about the past. "I guess some things never change. Neither of us was meant for the Hollywood spotlight."

"I don't know about you, but I look great on the big screen," you said, trying to inject some lightness into the conversation.

Vinnie chuckled and nodded, his eyes gleaming with pride and admiration. "No doubt about it," he agreed. "You shine bright like a star on the big screen. It suits you. I always knew you were destined for greatness."

"Even if it caused our relationship to end," you said quietly, your voice tinged with regret.

Vinnie's expression turned solemn as he nodded slowly. "Yeah, the industry can be demanding," he admitted. "It took a toll on our relationship, on both of us. We had different dreams, different paths. Sometimes, I wonder what would have been if we had chosen differently."

"Like normal people with ordinary jobs," you added, a wistful tone in your voice.

Vinnie let out a deep sigh and nodded. "Sometimes I miss those simpler days," he confessed, his voice tinged with a hint of nostalgia. "Just the two of us, living life without the fame and the busy schedules. It was simpler, I guess. But who knows, maybe things happen for a reason."

"Maybe," you said softly, not entirely convinced. "Though I'm surprised there's no lovely woman by your side tonight."

Vinnie chuckled, a sheepish smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Oh, I could have any woman I wanted," he joked, feigning confidence. "But maybe I'm just waiting for the right one to come along. Someone who appreciates the real me, not just the celebrity persona."

"You mean the anime nerd behind all that mystery," you teased, a hint of a smile playing on your lips.

Vinnie's laughter filled the air, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "You always knew me too well, didn't you?" he said, a hint of warmth in his voice. "Yeah, the big secret no one knows is that I'm just a regular anime nerd underneath the glitz and glamor."

"Wouldn't that be what we would have been doing right now, four years ago? Fighting over either Attack on Titan or Sailor Moon?" you mused.

Vinnie grinned wider, his eyes lighting up as the nostalgia washed over him. "Yeah, those endless debates over which anime is the best," he mused. "You and your love for Sailor Moon, and me passionately defending Attack on Titan. It was always a tie between us, wasn't it?"

"I don’t know, feel like I won most of those rounds," you said with a playful challenge.

Vinnie chuckled softly, his eyes gleaming with playful mischief. "Maybe you won a few, but I still hold my ground that Attack on Titan is the superior anime," he quipped, a hint of a challenge in his voice. "I mean, come on, the story, the characters, the action – it's just unbeatable!"

"C'mon like you didn't drool over Captain Levi, every time he was on the screen" Vinnie teased

"Levi Ackerman, huh? Can't blame me there," you admitted, a playful shrug. "He's a hot badass, for sure. But let's be real, even he couldn't steal me away from you."

The light hearted mood shifted suddenly as Matt's voice interjected, "steal who from who" cutting through the conversation like a gust of cold wind. Vinnie turned to face Matt, a flicker of surprise crossing his features.

"Baby, what took you so long?" you asked Matt, kissing him on the cheek as he pulled you closer to him.

Vinnie watched as you kissed Matt, a whirlwind of emotions stirring within him. He forced a strained smile, his eyes betraying a hint of jealousy and longing hidden beneath the surface.

"So, what were you talking about?" Matt asked

"Just catching up with Vinnie, after all we did work on that one music piece" you interjected

"Yeah, just catching up on the old times," Vinnie managed to say, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside. He cleared his throat, attempting to divert the conversation away from the awkward tension. "So, how's the industry treating you, Matt? Any exciting projects coming up?"

Matt talked about his YouTube channel and the one he shared with his triplet brothers, Nick and Chris, who appeared behind him. Chris gave you a pat on the shoulder, commenting on how lit the party was, joking that you'd be his sister-in-law soon, if you kept up your relationship with his brother.

Vinnie nodded intently, listening to Matt's excitement about his growing success on YouTube. He managed a polite, encouraging smile despite the gnawing feeling of jealousy brewing within him. As Matt's brothers appeared behind him, their presence created an even more convoluted atmosphere, with Chris's comment about you being his future sister-in-law making things even more awkward.

"That's great to hear, man," Vinnie responded, his voice neutral despite the emotional turmoil roiling inside him. He tried to focus on the conversation, asking questions and engaging in small talk, but his thoughts kept circling back to you, the one who once loved him. As the conversation continued, Vinnie began to feel increasingly out of place, his presence becoming more of a hindrance than anything.

His mind raced, weighing the options for escape. Glancing around, he subtly scanned for a way out. Seeing an opportunity, Vinnie excused himself abruptly, offering a hasty excuse about finding the restroom or chatting with his manager, anything to leave this awkwardly tense situation.

"Take care Vin," you say as Vinnie passes by you once again.

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fandomworld9728 · 23 hours

Text

Cinderella in Red

(@manicaali)

"Are you sure this is a good idea, sir?" Looking at herself in the mirror, Vaggie took in her appearance. Thanks to what she was told was called an Asmodeus Crystal, her skin and hair had taken on a darker color that she kind of liked. Maybe if she asked nicely, they let her keep the crystal?

"Why wouldn't it be Maggie-"

"Vaggie."

"Isn't that what I said?"

Sighing, Vaggie shake her head. He really needed to work on remembering names better. They had more pressing issues than her name though. "We are demons here on Earth to host a party. How could this end anyway but badly?"

"We are two fallen angels and a Nephilim holding a ball just for some fun. All the Sins and hell-borns have been warned to be on their best behavior. Everything will be fine. Besides, look how excited Charlie is."

Turning to see her girlfriend, excitedly talking to some of the demons in disguise with them while helping with the decorating, Vaggie couldn't keep the smile off her face. Dammit. Using their shared weakness against her.

"Okay. But if things go bad-"

"It's on my hands. I know. Don't worry. I'll take care of any trouble that may come our way."

"Why must you insist upon dragging me to this party?"

"It's a ball not a party. It'll be fun! Besides, when do I ever get the chance to dress you up?"

Alastor adored Rosie; however, he could do without her constant need to make him socialize. Though, he had to admit she did good work. Dear Rosie, the sweet gal that is, kept his outfit in keeping with that he usually wore. The only difference was the nicer material and designs embordered on said material. Even an upgrade of his shoes of preference. He supposes he could humor her every now and then in her games of dress up.

Stopping him before he could stop down off the stool, Rosie replaced his beat up, old pair of glasses with a much nicer pair. "There. Wear those for at least tonight. You'll find they're quite special."

"There you go with your cryptic words again. Do I get the pleasure of knowing what you mean by that, Rosie dear?"

"Not at all. Where's the fun in that? Now, take a look at yourself to appreciate my hard work. Thought, you do make it a little easier with that handsome face of yours."

"You can thank my mother for that fact." Taking in his appearance, Alastor was surprised at how... unrecognizable he looked. "You truly are magic. How do you do it?"

"Come now, Alastor. You know that's one of the things you never ask a lady."

Next >

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #cinderella au #radioapple #lucifer morningstar #charlie morningstar #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin hotel au #hazbin hotel alastor #human alastor #rosie hazbin hotel #cinderella in red

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jack-kellys · 2 days

Note

OOUGHGHHHH CAN U MAYBE DO ,, WHO DID THIS TO YOU ,,,, W JAVEY ,,, PLATONIC OR ROMANTIC WHATEVER FITS THE VIBE IDK ,,,,

also unrelated sidenote i accidentally misread "soup for the sick" and thought it said "soup for the dick" and i was like yknow what? yeah sure. before i reread it and realized what it actually said LMFAO

soup for the dick as a bad things happen event.. hmm

ao3 series is here, and u can request a trope from these. let's get into it.

David isn’t one to stay over at the lodge. It’s not a simple thing to head all the way to his family’s small apartment, give them the news, and head all the way back afterward. Usually it’s rather late when he gets the chance to, and consequently hard to prove to his parents why he should stay out instead.

So this time, he doesn’t tell his parents.

Today marks the last day of Jack’s first week as an artist at the World. Sometimes he gets out early enough to sell the evening, or sometimes he goes in late enough to sell the morning. Today was a morning sell day, so David hasn’t seen the boy all day, and he should be seeing him… about thirty minutes ago, approximately.

David sits on the lodge’s steps inside, feeling like an overgrown weed as other kids tumble up and down past him as they come down for or finish up their suppers. Maybe it’s childish to wait up for the other, and Jack could have easily gotten caught up with something at a place like that with all these fancy people. Maybe Katherine is simply introducing him to some people, or something.

“I ain’t like it either,” snaps David from his thoughts, and he glances up and behind him at the stairs’ landing. Crutchie’s pulling himself out of the window there, so he must have been up on the roof. He gives David a small smile. “You’re waiting for him, right?”

“Yeah,” David half-grumbles. At this point he and Jack’s…tendencies toward each other were quite apparent with the Lower Manhattan newsies, so he supposes he shouldn’t be too embarrassed about being obvious. “He’s not usually this late, not after office stuff.”

Crutchie bends down with a balance and strength David can only wish he had, pushing his crutch toward David. David crawls up a stair or to and takes it leaving Crutchie free to hop down with the railing.

“I know,” Crutchie agrees. “And, I mean. He knows this’s the one time to see you today?”

David bites lip, giving a slight nod.

“Then I really ain’t like it,” Crutchie chuckles, though his eyebrows furrow. David smiles his nervous appreciation at the other. “Look, Dave, I’m sure he’ll be here soon. He’s probably thinkin’ all about how you’re sitting here sighin’ to yourself as you stare out the front window.”

“Crutchie,” David mumbles, feeling his face heat up. He’s not as much sighing and batting his eyes as he is gripping the fabric of his slacks and trying to slow his mind down from the top speed it wants to run at. “I’m worried.”

“Me too,” C assures, tossing an arm over David’s shoulders once he sits himself down. David leans into the other, frowning to himself but glad to no longer wait alone.

‘Alone’ quickly becomes a luxury as another twenty minutes slips by. The volume in the building has reached its exponential climax upstairs- most of the kids have washed up after dinner and plenty of them will be heading downstairs to the supper tables again to play cards and other games before lights out.

“Move, Davey!” is demanded of him by 14-year-old JoJo, and David looks up to see her hands on her hips, expectant. Crutchie remains seated, also giving David an expectant look. David does as told.

Children bounce down the stairs, followed up by Racer, Specs, and Albert, who pause when they see David and Crutchie.

“Jack ain’t show?” Albert sighs, shaking his head. “Jeez.”

“I haven’t heard anything from anybody, either,” Specs supplies. “No one’s seen him since the morning edition- not enough to know where he’s at now.”

So a longer length of time than David had thought. His mind starts running at the speed it wanted to, gaze sliding to Racer’s. They had to start searching.

Racer nods, thankfully reading David’s mind as he heads down the rest of the stairs. “Let’s go, come on.”

David jumps up instantly, feet wanting to move by now after far too much waiting, but movement outside of the front door stops both of them.

“Great timing as always, Jackie,” Racer mutters to himself, but the door opens, and it’s Katherine, eyes shockingly wide, door still concealing most of her body.

“Kath?” David says, coming up to the door to open it for her. “You okay? Where’s-”

And then he opens it all the way.

Jack Kelly is pressed desperately into her side, his arm slung over Katherine’s shoulder as she clearly holds most of his weight. Both his eyes are half closed, one clearly by someone’s hard fist as the bruise around it purples part of his wide nose, smearing half the boy’s face in the color. His lip’s busted, blood only starting to congeal as past drippings of it still line his chin. His cheek’s split, the knuckles David can see are bruised and open, who knows what’s under his shirt, someone's touched his hair.

David’s stiffened, he realizes, as he knows everyone’s gaze on him. His eyes are only on Jack, blindingly on Jack, edges turning red, especially when Jack grins.

“Davey…” he says, smiley, too smiley for David’s liking, “you’re still here, ‘s good, good. Wanted to see you, so Kath- Kath go’me here.”

“Kath,” David says, steely, softly.

“Yep,” she replies, and David takes Jack’s other side, the both of them carrying Jack through the door together in silence, save for Jack’s sharp intakes of air every few steps.

The thing about the main floor is that it is small and filled with tables. The thing about nearly every bed in the building is that they’re up a flight of stairs. Long ago, David figures, this problem was recognized and a couple mattresses were tossed down the stairs to live in the back of the main floor. This also means David and Katherine are forced to drag Jack’s corpse-looking figure to said mattress, and the last person to occupy it had been Splasher after the strikebreaking.

Every single kid in the building watches as David and Katherine move Jack to the back, eyes huge. Race, Specs, and Albert speed ahead to start pulling tables back and out of the way, and Crutchie follows, speaking softly to a few more vocal newsies to calm them down. It’s more quiet than David’s ever experienced in the usual madhouse of noise the lodge is.

Slowly, he and Katherine lay Jack down on his back, and Kath immediately turns to him.

“I just found him like this, right outside the main building,” she says, words hurried and brows crumpled into a deep crease. “I don’t know if someone tossed him there or- or if it happened right out in the open and I had no idea- I- I was working late and I’m- his ribs are busted up too, I checked. I didn’t know how else to- where else to go.”

“Right place,” Race says with a curt nod. “I’m gonna grab Mush, this’s… a whole operation.”

He zips off, leaving still too many bodies around David and Jack when Jack is hurt and David’s chest is about to fucking burst with the fact.

“Uh,” he lets out quickly, suddenly, his mouth motoring without his permission. Crutchie, Kath, Albert, Specs, everyone in the room looks at him. “Can you-” David stops himself. He won’t get anywhere if he asks. “Move, guys. Move, for a minute.”

It’s callous, he knows, and demanding, and maybe even unfair. They’re all worried, just like David.

They move. Katherine squeezes his shoulder, and Crutchie gives himself one last look at Jack, but they all move. It’s just Davey and Jack.

David looks down at the other again, gaze withering. Carefully, his fingers touch the safest parts of Jack’s face, and Jack just barely turns toward him.

“Who did this to you,” David demands, clear, enunciated, burning.

Jack watches him as much as he’s able, but he deliberately looks away after a few moments, delirious smile dimmed.

“Y’know those’m, those… friends I said I made? At the World?” he mumbles out. His lip quirks, since he’s about to admit something, and David finds a kerchief in his pocket to wipe the boy’s lip quickly. “They.. ain’t my friends, ‘s f’sure, Davey.”

“No they would not be,” David tries to agree softly, but it comes out of his mouth argumentative, maybe. Jack gives him a smile, covering a wince- David catches his hand trying to find his ribs.

“You look like you’re gonna do something stupid,” Jack hums.

“I don’t- have.. a look that indicates that,” David spits out.

“If you’re gonna do it,” Jack continues, and there’s this look in his eye that tells David that Jack is just as angry as he is, “bring someone.”

David brings Race.

He gets a general description from Jack as the night goes on, Mush having peeled back Jack’s shirt to ice his ribs and stitch up the cut in Jack’s cheek, and Kath points the two boys out to Race and David the next day. It’s kind of a team effort, sure, but to David the effort isn’t done until his fist is in someone’s gut.

Things have made him feel ugly inside before, it isn’t that unusual for him, but this ugliness is hot and flaming and demanding action. And in the name of the boy David thinks he loves, he’ll let it the hell out. Race’s dark smirk only encourages it.

He and Race surprise the boys, catching them on their way home. David hasn’t been in many fights since the strike, in all honesty, but he’s had to fend for himself at school as the new resident working boy in his classes.

David doesn’t let himself think. If he thinks, he’ll stop, and that’s probably the better option, so David has to ignore it. He’s doing the stupid thing, he brought someone, and they screwed up one of Jack’s braids and beat his face in and–

He forgot how much it hurt to hit someone…

David shoves one of the guys into the alley as Race does, and his knuckles find his guy’s nose- once, twice. He earns one to his jaw, and he tries not to reel in surprise, because Race isn’t- Race takes his punch to the ribs he receives and hits back two times quicker as if to erase the action as a whole.

David isn’t fast in that way, but he’s damn tall, and he takes his target’s shoulders and drives him against the wall, nailing him in the gut while he holds him there. The boy tries to rip David’s grip away, but David practically slams him back as a knee-jerk reaction. His eyes widen at himself, but it’s fine, it’s an opening. He runs his fist into the boy’s cheek.

“David,” Race hisses after what must be a while, and David’s attention snaps up and over at the other. He nods, and they both drop what they’re doing and scram.

They slow to a quick walk after a few blocks, and Race grins, slapping David’s chest. The boy’s sporting a bruise by his temple, and David thinks he remembers Racer’s head hitting the brick wall.

“You gotta tell Jack! Davey, I never seen you fight like that,” Racer says, beaming at David- proud of him. David can’t help sending a tiny smile back.

“I know that was- uh- well, very reckless, and unbelievably stupid, so,” David sighs out, “thank you.”

“Yeah, man, I got you,” Race nods. “For Jack, yeah?”

David finds himself nodding, vigorously, not thinking. Not needing to think.

“For Jack,” he echoes.

The lodge welcomes them back heartily, and David can see Jack sitting up on the mattress in the back, which he should not be fucking doing. He ignores the cheers and rushes over to him.

“What are you doing?” he hisses. “Didn’t Mush say you shouldn’t sit up on your-”

Dark, cherry-colored lips press to his, sudden and silencing. David can feel the cut on Jack’s bottom one with his tongue when he pulls away.

“You’re nose’s bleedin’” Jack whispers, smirking. David wipes it quickly.

“Uh, sorry,” he lets out, blinking at the other.

“Did you get ‘em good?” Jack asks, looking up at him, a little differently. Jack’s gaze keeps slipping downward just a tick. David nods slowly.

“I think we did, yeah,” he confirms. “Race was a great help.”

He sits himself next to Jack, even though the boy should really lay down. Instead, Jack shifts himself against David, making himself comfortable. David’s arm slips around his waist.

“You really…care, about me,” Jack says softly.

“Of course I do,” David nearly scoffs. “Jack. I-”

“This’s something else, Davey, yeah? Somethin’ new?”

David thinks about the burning, and the ugliness- how Jack’s pain had made him feel ugly inside, not just Jack. How he didn’t even think.

“Yeah,” David says. “You okay with it?”

Jack gazes at him again. One of his eyes is officially swollen shut, but the other is wide open, burning with something beautiful.

“Yeah,” Jack smiles. David returns it, without a thought.

#absolute fucking joy to write. THANK YOU #violence IS a love language in newsies actually thank u #davey jacobs #rly digging pov ur davey rn actually.#jack kelly #javey #javid #newsies fics #newsies fanfic #racetrack higgins #crutchie morris #crutchie newsies #katherine pulitzer #newsies #newsies the musical #fizz writes #fizz answers #rizz does bthb!#winter ilyily. ily. muah

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devdevlin · 3 days

Text

A brief (and inappropriate) retelling of Hermione's polyjuice incident.

DON'T ASK. I don't know where this came from, ok? Ok. My pregnancy brain is fried and apparently, I don't know what shame is anymore, so here you go, have an odd and uncalled for drabble. I'd say don't judge me... but tbh, I probably deserve it 🤷‍♀️

"Ahh!"

At the distant, high-pitched scream, Tom slowly lowered his newspaper.

There was a concerning stretch of silence, until a quiet shuffling from upstairs started; hurried, panicked footsteps, ones that told him he needn't get up. Whatever the problem was, it would undoubtedly come to him.

Tom resumed his reading.

Sure enough, not even five minutes later, and the footsteps gradually pattered their way down the stairs.

"...Tom?" he soon heard echoing in from the other room.

"...Yes?"

"Can you... I think I need your..."

Hermione, he knew, would rather eat her own pants than come to him for help, and so, properly intrigued, Tom folded his paper and put it aside. "What's wrong?"

There was another pause and some more shuffling from the doorway, before a quiet, "do you promise not to laugh?"

Tom laughed. "That will depend on what you're about to say."

"Tom!"

"Tell me what's wrong."

"Promise you won't laugh!"

"Fine, fine, I won't laugh," he promised, leaning forward eagerly in his chair. "Just come out. You're starting to worry me."

Another stretch of quiet. But then, right as Tom was about to get up and force her out—

Hermione stepped into the room.

Tom prided himself on his self-control. It was one of his best qualities, one that set him far apart from the rest of his peers, but even he wasn't above snorting at the sight of her.

She immediately turned and walked back out.

Tom, at a complete loss, covered his mouth and muffled his chortling as he got up and followed after her. "I'm sorry," he called out. "Wait, really— I'm sorry. It just wasn't what I was expecting, that's all."

He caught her in the kitchen, where she whirled back and glared at him. "You promised!"

"I did, I know. I'm sorry," he said, but he wasn't really. Because with a pair of ginger ears and a squashed nose, with her pants riding low enough on her hips for a long, bushy tail to poke out the top, she looked... hilariously...

Cute.

"Are you going to help me or not?!" she snapped, gesturing to herself.

Tom looked her down and up, taking her all in. Huh. She had claws, too. "How did this happen?"

"I... a little bit of polyjuice, is all. But I must've added the wrong hair..."

"It would seem so," he said. "Whatever were you playing with polyjuice for?"

"I... well... I just wanted to... surprise you," she admitted. "I know you don't like to celebrate, but I thought... it's your thirtieth. I had to do something, and I thought this might be a way to do it that you'd be okay with."

"You thought I'd like it if your gift... was yourself in the form of a cat?"

"No! No, not a cat..."

"Who were you supposed to be, then?" he asked suspiciously.

"...N-no one."

"Hermione."

"I..." she sighed, and then grudgingly muttered, "I was trying to turn myself into you."

This time, he tried—he really did—but his laugh couldn't be helped.

"Tom!"

"Sorry, sorry," he repeated, "I'm sorry. But, honestly, why would you—"

"I have another batch upstairs," she said, flushing. "Once I was you, I was going to come down and offer you the other batch, so that you could turn into me, and then... I thought we could... you know."

Slowly, as her words sunk in, Tom grinned a wide, involuntary grin. "Actually... now that you say that... I'm not quite sure I do know," he said, stepping towards her. "Why don't you tell me more?"

Hermione crossed her arms. "This is humiliating enough without you rubbing it in! You know what I mean!"

"Do I?"

Her ears flattened.

"Well..." he said, pressing his lips together to keep from laughing again as he closed further in. "As unfortunate as this all is... it doesn't all have to be for nought. Maybe we can still... make this work."

"...I beg your pardon?"

"Just me... you..." He leaned into her and reached around to trail his hand along her thigh, until he reached the base of her tail at her waistband. He gently gripped the base. "...and your tail..."

He slipped his fingers down the length of it, over the silken, ginger fur, until she swatted him off.

"No! I— stop that!"

"Why?" he said. "It'll take hours to wear off. I can think of several good uses for all this until then."

"Absolutely not!" she snapped, pushing back from him. "Wh-what do you mean, good uses?"

"What do you think I mean?"

"I... I think that if you can't help me, then I'd rather not know about—ahh!"

As she'd turned to storm off, Tom took hold of her tail and pulled, hard enough that she stumbled back, her back colliding flush against his front.

"Something like this, I think," he murmured low in her ear, keeping his grip on her tail tight, holding her in place.

"Tom, that—ow, that hurts."

"Good."

She tugged to free herself, but Tom didn't let go, and twisted them to shove her forward, pinning her between himself and the counter.

"Ow, I mean it!" she hissed.

"So do I," he drawled, and now that he had her pinned, he took her tail in his other hand too, and sliding it up, right to the base, and stroking down its length firmly. "Tell me... what does it feel like?"

The tip of her tail twitched against his leg at his touch. "It's... ah, um," she squeaked. "Sensitive."

"Is it? Well, why don't we find out just how sensitive it is..."

"Tom—"

"Shh, shh," he shushed, slipping his fingers around the tail and down, down beneath the waistband of her pants to where the fur ended and the smooth patch of skin just below it started.

He felt it as she shivered and a tremor jolted up her spine, joined by a quiet, gentle—

"Oh," he breathed, "you can purr?"

"I... I didn't know... I didn't mean to..."

Tom laughed into her neck. She sounded mortified.

"It's all right," he told her, stroking even lower, brushing right against where the skin became silky and started to pucker. "I don't mind, but... now that you mention it, I do wonder how it'd feel if you purred with my dick in your—"

"Tom!"

"I'm just curious. It is my birthday, after all..."

#tomione #fanfiction #tom riddle #hermione granger #harry potter #fanfic #hp fanfic #this is as fluffy as I can get ok #hermione has a tail #Tom doesn’t hate it #my writing #drabble #ooc #crack fic

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ouroborosorder · 13 hours

Note

OK but when you're free of all the other obligations and able to do it can we get the Ines skin writeup anyway because I liked the Eine Variation one and why do they keep giving Caprinae ops skin like this do they just hate goats at hypergryph or what

Okay so I got this ask a month and a half ago and am just now getting to responding to it. In that time, I got a job as a professional VFX artist so my opinion means double what it did before. So that's fun! Respect me and bow to me, peasants.

I wrote a massively long writeup here and then my page refreshed and I lost all of it twice. Let's speedrun this shit, alright? (She says, immediately writing a 5 page unhinged rant.)

This skin sucks because of the exact opposite reason Eine Variation does, it's just too fucking detailed for its own good.

...Also what the fuck is that in the background is that a goddamned alien spaceship has anyone else noticed this?? This is a bloodline of combat skin this is canon does ines just fight aliens at some point what the FUCK?

Anwyay VFX in the readmore.

Deploy animation. I hate you. I hate this. I hate it.

It's rare I get to see an entire skin's mistakes in microcosm like this! That's fun!

This is so detailed that it actually ceases to have any real shape or identity. This doesn't look like shadow, because skins can just. Change character lore to make something look cool yes I'm still mad. Is it stars? That would explain the weird yellow dots, and there are stars in the art. Fire? No, it's not actually fire, there'd be fire here. Burning fabric? It only looks like that if I squint and zoom in, but I can't... think of anything else.

The colors are so awful. The way that there is a hard line between the dark lavender and the scarlet which then fades into orange is. A choice. I would not have made. At all. In any way. Ever. At any point. Also the random dots of yellow are very funny because they are so clearly just random pixels of yellow. Some of them even aren't in the orange, so they're just like, highlights that have decided to break out of the highlighted areas. Did they.. want this to look like her burning dress? In which case, why are they.. blue? Her dress is black with orange embers, I don't GET IT.

Also small thing but it has a drop shadow, but like. She's literally in all black until she fully appears. And the swirling ribbons are dark-colored. There's no worry about them not standing out against a light background. Is that just supposed to look like she's surrounded by shadow if that's the case then why isn't the rest of this shadow AGH.

This looks weirdly... JPEG compressed??? Like, you can kiiinda see it in the big version, but if I shrink this down to phone resolution...

GOOD LORD SHE'S BEEN DEEP-FRIED.

S1 is good. I like it. It's simple, elegant. Good use of colors, and I think the impact looks great, good use of red and orange to create visual interest. Not gonna bother to screenshot it, it's not that interesting NEXT

S2!

Stop it. Stop it. Put a few colors away. I am counting 8 distinct colors in this one swing alone, and then two more for Ines herself. Stop it. That is too many colors. Add less colors.

I don't even see what the colors are there FOR. Are they selling the tip of the swing? That's not right, because the red highlights start at the tip, then swirl inwards until the red is in the inner part.

I do actually think this one is a lot better at actual resolution.

It's still too detailed, and that detail ends up being crunched and not really... serving any purpose in the grand scheme of the effect, but I do think it is... better. It makes it more clearly light on the outside, dark on the inside.

Also I hate the ends of this swing. I hate it. Why is one a perfect circle that's been stretched out and the other end a rectangle that's fading out. Why is that how you did this. This effect looks like two different swings that have been stapled together like goddamned Catdog.

BUT WHEN IT FADES IT HAS AN INKBRUSH LOOK SO WHAT IS THIS EFFECT.

Why not lean into the burning dress look? Have it be a black trail that like, burns away when it fades? That would be STUNNING, anything but. Whatever is happening here. Mrgrgr okay fine it can't get worse right

DEAR READER. I PRESENT. S3. THE CULMINATION OF EVERY SINGLE PROBLEM.

So this IS a stars theme after all. This IS stars? Just wanna make sure we're all on the same fucking page here.

Dear reader. I hate this. So fucking much. This may be, and I do truly mean this, the worst piece of VFX I have ever seen in any game. This doesn't read as a piece of VFX in an anime game, it reads like the background of a YA fantasy novel's cover.

The nebula doesn't move. It's static. It is clearly just a jpeg. It's not even doing the Chowder screen-space orientation thing. It's just. There. Inescapable.

The comet itself just. Ends. It doesn't fade out or taper. It just. Stops. There's barely any anti-aliasing here. It's just a hard line between the comet and the background.

Ines herself is surrounded by identical dark lavender and orange energy, so there's no visible difference between the effect and herself. Sure. It's not going to be onscreen long anyway. Who cares.

The center of the comet is bright white as if it's the highlight of the effect, but it's... it's off-center?? so it's ultimately... Highlighting something. is it highlighting the sword? Is it supposed to be a haze that shows you the sword? But it doesn't look like it because it took me 15 minutes while writing this to realize that the sword was there at all because it's the same orange color as all the other highlights and so it gets eaten. If your highlight color stops drawing my eye, then you've fucked up because that is literally what a highlight color is supposed to do. Where am I supposed to look at this thing, where is the focus, the shape?

It's even funnier that the blade leaves a little cartoony goofy team rocket blink when it leaves, before immediately turning into whatever public domain NASA star image they're using for the comet. A real glimpse into what it would look like if Spiderverse sucked ass. (I do like the blink itself tho, a small little blue haze to add color and contrast against light backgrounds, smart touch.)

Explosion sucks. Suddenly they decide the palette is something entirely different. Where did the yellow come from. Yellow isn't even on the art. I guess when your palette is that big, you can change them up how you want. I would actually like this effect if it was slightly less detailed and in a skin that had actually used this pallette. It reminds me a bit of Specter the Laurentina. But with this level of detail and these colors... This somehow looks more like a YA book cover. A Sword of Goats and Stars. Fuck me I hate it.

I almost like this buff uptime indicator, It's just that the red from the swords fades into the orange on her dress and makes the whole thing muddy. Also she has an actual roiling flame behind her LMAO GET DUNKED ON HOEDERER THAT'S RIGHT I WILL DUNK ON HIM EVERY TIME EVEN THIS PIECE OF TRASH HAS ONE UP ON THE HOE LMAOOOOO

(In fact I actually... think this might be a recurring texture? It looks familiar, but I can't pin down from where. This is a bad screenshot for showing it but I'm not bothering to get a new one. This is my mental breakdown and I get to choose the visual aids.)

Anyway, maybe I'm being mean. After all I'm criticizing an effect for being too detailed when I am actively zooming in and looking at the details. So let's shrink down to the resolution of my phone just to see how it would-

Ah.

Final Ouroboros VFX ranking: A jpeg compressed photo of a wizard airbrushed on a van / 18 Originium Prime. Actually wait no that sounds too cool. Uh. The wizard is also racefaking. Now it's no longer cool. Nailed it.

#arknights #arknights vfx breakdown #emphasis on breakdown again #I don't have as personal a vendetta against this one as I do Eine Variation #but I do think this one is genuinely bad #Shame. Ines would have crushed it with an actual skin

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