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#still don't understand why the fall's singles were left off.. and it would have been a gr8 chance to save 911 from obscurity 😪
flutternozzle · 1 year
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the world if gorillaz' the singles collection 2001-2011 had come out the next year instead, and actually included All the singles from the first 3 phases of their career (so including 911, lil dub chefin, revolving doors / amarillo, doyathing) 😔
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wosoamazing · 2 months
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Barca v Arsenal Round 2
Warnings: Head injury, vomiting, concussion, google translated Spanish (sorry in advance - with english translations)
A/N: I have a request for a McCabe red card fic, so that inspired this, so a McCabe red card fic coming off the back of this will be soon. I also may have another major change for this series, or a few.... (also note that the pregnancy story line is/was a one shot)
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You were sprinting full pace towards the box, preparing for Aitana’s cross, the ball was currently with Lucy, you neared the edge of the box as Aitana received the ball, preparing to be able to just tap it in, it left Aitana’s foot, however the ground also left your feet, someone had tripped you, it was McCabe, living up to her nickname, she had only meant to trip you, maybe receive a yellow, what she had not calculated for was that you hadn’t slowed, so your speed in addition to your proximity to the post meant you didn’t just fall to the ground, you went flying, straight into the goal post, head first, the sound of your head clashing with the post reverberated around the stadium as your body thudded to the floor, and your everything went black. Alexia, and Lucy were immediately by your side, practically sprinting over to you. As you started to come too again, you slowly opened your eyes and you grimaced at the brightness of the light, your vision was slightly fuzzy but you could easily make out Alexia’s face which was above over yours, she was looking at the sidelines concerned, she shook her head at something, you tried to move your head, maybe sit up, but noticed their were firm hands placed either side of your head meaning that you couldn’t, they must’ve been Alexia’s as she immediately looked down at you, her face softening as she saw the tears that brimmed your eyes.
“It’s okay Bebita, we will get you all fixed up, don't worry, just don’t try to move okay.” 
Lucy was standing right next to your head, she was looking over to where quite a lot of noise was going on, Alexia looked up at Lucy before looking over there too, that’s when you suddenly heard a very familiar voice and remember you were versing your old team.
“What the hell McCabe,” you heard your sister say, as she probably pushed her “why would you do that, that’s my sister, my fucking baby sister Katie, and you just knocked her out. What were you thinking, as if you were ever going to get away with that.”
The medics came over, and Alexia, looked back to you, your eyes were darting around. “L-le, I want Le” you scaredly said as a single tear left your eye. “Lucy, Leah now” Alexia ordered Lucy, “It’s okay Bebita, Lucy is going to get her,” just after Lucy left the ref blew her whistle, the high pitched noise pierced through your skull, the sound was followed by your sister's voice “Oh you fucking deserved that,” you could hear your sister continue to argue with Katie untill Lucy raised her voice.
“Leah,” the two Arsenal players stopped, “she’s asking for you,” and just like that Leah’s mind was completely cleared of her anger towards McCabe.
“Leah,” you cried out again, as your eyes continued to dart around. “She’s coming Bebita, it’s okay she’s coming” almost as if on que Leah came into your vision, “Bug, it’s okay, I’m here.”
“Le,” you let out a sob “It hurts,” “I know it does bug, but can you stay as still as possible and listen to the medics?”
The medics were doing their usual checks, when one of them started talking to you, “¿Puedes entenderme? (can you understand me?)” “Sì” “that’s good right, it means it isn’t super bad, and like her memory is good” Lucy questioned, one of the medics gave her a small nod before they continued.
“¿Puedes decirme tu nombre, tu edad y dónde estás en español y luego en inglés?” (can you tell me your name, your age and where you are in Spanish and then in English?)
“Eh, tengo 17 años, mi nombre es Y/N y estoy en España jugando al fútbol contra mi antiguo equipo. I am 17 years old, my name is Y/N, and I am in Spain playing football against my old team” Your spanish was slower than usual but it was still well above Kiera’s spanish speaking abilities.
“Muy buena”
The medics did some more checks before looking up at Alexia and Leah, they said something in Spanish to Alexia who translated for Leah, “They’re going to stretcher her off, but they think it’s just a concussion.” 
As they were moving you onto the stretchers Steph came up behind Leah and tapped her on the back before leaning forward and whispering into her ear, “Jonas said you can be subbed off if you want,” Leah smiled at her fellow teammate before nodding and following you off the pitch.
It was half time and the girls had come to check on you, all just popping their heads around the corner seeing you were asleep and deciding to leave Leah alone, who looked very stressed and worried, however Alexia and Lucy walked in, Alexia first went to you to check you were okay once she knew you were she turned to Leah, “I can’t stay for long I have to go back out with the team, but Lucy will stay, and-” “Alexia!” Jonatan shouted, she quickly walked out, “Lucy knows the rest, oh and I will get food.”
Lucy sat down next to Leah, and studied her briefly before she started to talk, she decided to just be straight with your sister.
“We don’t know if you’re staying or how long you will stay for, but Alexia said you could stay there, that she knew you probably expected that but she wanted to reassure you. Are you staying or are you going back with them?”
“I’m staying, I’m not going, I haven't been there for her so many times when she has been sick or hurt. I was here for this one, I can’t just leave her now.” she let out a heavy sigh, “I just miss her so much, I want her back, I miss her Luc, I already missed so much of her life growing up and now I’m missing everything again,” leah admitted quietly.
“Le, it’s okay, she isn’t mad at you, and you can’t blame yourself, at the end of the day she was the one who chose to go.” she just nodded, trying to hold back her tears.
______
Since you had a shower at the stadium you crawled straight into your bed when you got home, Leah getting in beside you, “Le,” you groggily spoke, “yeah,” she softly said as she smoothed out your hair, “please don’t go, please stay,” “I’m going to stay Bug, I’ve already told Jonas and Lia,” you gave her a small soft smile as you nodded slightly before your curled into her side and drifted off to sleep.
______
Later that night you found yourself hunched over the toilet, throwing up, whilst your head still pounded. “It’s okay, I’m here, I’ve got you,” Your sister said as she rubbed your back. Just as you had finished and rested your head on Leah’s shoulder, body collapsing into hers, Alexia walked in with some water and more pain meds, she was met with a confused look from Leah, “I heard you up, figured this was the reason” she whispered, before handing you the water and meds, you took them before lowering your head to now rest on Leah’s lap, promptly falling asleep.
“Thank you for taking such good care of her Alexia, she really likes living with you,” “It’s nothing,” “But it really is, and you’re doing the job I should be doing, I’m her big sister, I should be there for her when she is sick and I’m not,” the tears in Leah’s eyes that threatened to fall earlier in the day started falling, “I’m sorry,” Leah mumbled as she put her face in her hands, Alexia wrapped an arm around Leah’s shoulder to comfort her, not really knowing what else to do, as she didn;t know how to reply to what your sister had just told her. 
______
You woke up to Mapi’s voice “Ingrid, Ellas estan aqui (they are in here),” you then heard her take a photo on her phone.
“Mapi?” you asked quizzically as you slowly sat up from your position on the floor.
“Hola Nena, ¿cómo te sientes? (how are you feeling?)” you only groaned in response.
“Ingrid Vendrá a recogerte, ¿quieres volver a la cama? (will come pick you up, do you want to go back to bed),” “Food?” you questioned, “¿Quieres algo de comida? (Do you want some food?)” “Sì”
“Good Morning, elskling, let's take you down and get you something to eat, I think Lucy will be here soon.” Ingrid picked you up, trying not to disturb the two older women, having a feeling they needed some sleep, Alexia’s arm was still wrapped around your sisters as Leah’s head rested on Alexia’s shoulder.
______
“Find yourself in an odd position when you woke up?” Lucy teased her captains as they walked down the stairs.
“No, the only emotion that went through us was panic,” “someone moved Bebita” Leah started and Alexia finished.
“We came over to cook breakfast, because we do that after every game day, have breakfast, us two and Alexia and y/n, sometimes others join too” Ingrid gestured towards Lucy, “But we went looking for you both and she woke up when we found you all, said she was hungry, but we let you sleep, because we didn’t know how much of the night you had slept and how much of if you spent, well…” Ingrid continued
“But we fed her, and she has kept it down so far so that is good,” Leah nodded. 
“So she has only vomited once since, that's good, considering how hard she hit the post. Also thank you all so much, for everything you do for her, I-” “Le,” you said slightly panicked, as you woke up, hands wrapped around your stomach, its safe to say that moment marked the end of their ‘peaceful’ morning.
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owliellder · 9 months
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The Finer Details
Post DI! Leon Kennedy x f! Painter Reader
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MDNI 18+
(Session 1, Session 2, Session 3, Session 4, Session 5, The Reveal)
Description: Leon realizes that retirement is in his best interest now that he's getting older. All of his accomplishments as an agent mean he's truly earned a painting to commemorate..
Warnings: Not Proofread, Age gap! (reader is anywhere between mid-late 20's and Leon is 40), Porn w/ Plot, Use of she/her pronouns, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Alcoholism, mentions of trauma/PTSD/depression, P in V smut (wrap it NEOW), Leon cries during sex 💔
Tags: Older Leon Kennedy, Younger afab!Reader, Leon is SAD but he is your muse, Crying, mentions of Leon masturbating, starts off with Dom! Leon and Sub! Reader, falls into switch territory because that man needs some serious TLC, Praise kink, Hickeys, Handjob, Nipple play, Oral sex (m! and f! receiving), and a heavy dose of Aftercare
Author Note: I wanna say there's some pretty descriptive talk about depression in this chapter, just as a heads up. Anyways, it's my weekend and I'm going to be absolutely zooted every single day so the next chapter will most likely be out Monday morning PST lol.
Cross-posted on AO3
Session 3: Blocking In Color
It was nearly three weeks until you saw Leon again.
You tried to call him a couple days after he'd left that day, a few more times over the following week, but to no avail. The man was unreachable.
Even though you did your best to convince yourself that you just wanted to get his painting started, "It was an important one", you knew that you were really just worried about him.
You've seen this kind of dismay with the other retired agents that've had a portrait painted in the past, but they at least recognized what they'd been through.
Leon hasn't. You could just tell.
Looking over the sketches you made of his face, you couldn't help but wonder what exactly he'd been thinking about the last time he was here. He seemed so bothered, acting like he was hiding it so well, too.
Then again, you did drop a rather large bombshell on the guy while he was in a pretty vulnerable state, but you thought he knew what the portrait he was going to receive was suppose to mean. Again, most of the retired agents you'd seen were similar to Leon in that regard and even they at least had a basic grasp on the finality of it all. So why didn't he?
You nursed your bottom lip, still staring at the sketches laying in front of you while you sat at one of your desks in the corner. You normally don't come to your workspace unless you're actively painting, yet you'd shown up everyday in hopes Leon would randomly pop in. He seemed like the kind of guy to just kind of show up, anyways...
If you had just gotten a picture that day you've could've at least started working out the positioning for his portrait. Unfortunately, he wasn't in any position mentally to put up with anymore of your shenanigans at the time, it seemed.
You really did try your best to get ahold of Leon, eventually giving up a few days ago. You'd already emailed the President, who had been the one to personally commission you unlike with previous ex-agents, letting him know that it's going to be longer than expected. Thankfully he was understanding, knowing rather well how much the whole retirement thing was weighing on Leon.
You'll come back tomorrow and try again. Even the next day, and the day after that if you have to, and so on and so forth.
Guilty. That's all Leon felt right now.
He's been shelled up in his house since the moment he got home after leaving your building, withering away by the minute.
He hadn't showered, barely eaten, only ever really pulling himself from what little comfort his room offered to grab whatever bottle he touched first in the cabinet. Leon didn't care, just as long as it was something.
Chris had been over a couple times after he stopped responding to his messages, doing his best to get him out of the house. Claire had been over a few times more than her brother had, bringing groceries once she'd heard about the sad state Leon was keeping himself in.
It broke both their hearts, but they could only do so much for him. Leon was stubborn, head strong, he wasn't the kind to sway to many forces. He had somehow gaslit himself into thinking he was doing well. "Just peachy", even.
Clearly that wasn't the case, both Chris and Claire could see that. They'd have to be blind not to.
Having been in contact with Leon's government-assigned therapist, Chris tried to set up an at-home meeting for him one day. That turned out to be a disaster seeing as Leon was bordering on blackout drunk and could barely keep his eyes open. Not to mention the vomiting.
Claire even tried to bathe Leon. She only got far enough to wash his hair in his kitchen sink, using his vomit-covered mouth as an excuse to keep him over the sink long enough to shampoo his greasy, stringy hair.
All of it was weighing on him too much. He felt so guilty for making his friends feel like they had to babysit him, ignoring everyone's calls and messages, your calls and messages. That kind of thought process quickly spiraled into him reliving the worst days of his life, having to through suffer so many flashbacks and nightmares, not sleeping because of it. He rarely ever felt safe enough to get under the covers on his bed.
None of this is what he wanted. If it were up to him, he'd start all over; be twenty-one again, work as a cop, maybe get promoted a few times, find a girlfriend, start a family, have a normal life. Why couldn't he have that?
Staying awake night after night, Leon would stare at the ceiling in his bedroom and fantasize about the wonderful life he could've had, the happy memories he could've made. It would make him weep, longing for something that never could've been.
Instead, Leon was stuck with endless images of horror, death, and gore every time he blinked, and oh was he bitter about it all. So bitter, so angry, so...
Feeling sorry for himself was all he could do now. Sure, he killed all those monsters and zombies, saved all those people, not once did he think about himself through the years. Now he had all the time in the world to question and wonder, and having to think about himself and what he wanted most made him feel like a needy, greedy bastard.
But wasn't he allowed to be greedy, if only just a little? He had wants, needs, and though he wanted so desperately to change his past, he knew he couldn't. So, what did he want now? That, he didn't know.
Guilty for feeling this way, guilty for wanting different, guilty for wanting anything good for himself.
It took the better part of those two weeks for Leon to finally muster up some form of energy to stumble into his bathroom and shower one afternoon, dizzy and nauseous. The light emanating from the rest of his house was blinding, not having even bothered to close the shades he had on any of his windows. His room was kept a cave and that's where he stayed.
Leon now found himself sitting down in the shower just like before he'd decided to retire, only this time it was mostly to keep from slipping and dying. The last thing he needed anyone to see was him naked and dead in the shower. Embarrassing.
His thoughts at the moment were shallow, still pretty drunk from his bender, head lulling back and forth a bit as his vision spun. He was finally hungry again, the heat from the shower making that all the more obvious as he grew lightheaded, but he didn't know what he wanted.
After managing to actually crawl his way out of the shower, he dug through the pile of dirty laundry at the end of his bed, finding a pair of boxers that didn't smell too terrible to put on.
Leon used the wall heavily for support to walk out into his kitchen, muttering curses under his breath at just how bright it was. Opening his freezer, he stared at the meal prep containers left by Claire, grabbing one to attempt and read what she'd wrote on the sticky note attached to the lid.
That's right... She made him little meals, even putting them in the freezer so they didn't go bad as fast. All he had to do was put it in the microwave.
Simple enough, he could do that.
The one he chose was meatloaf and mashed potatoes. Just the sound of it had his stomach rumbling and his mind craving the comforting taste of a home cooked meal.
The first few bites in made Leon feel nauseous again, but once those bites hit his stomach the feeling immediately gave way to just how hungry he actually was.
He tried to pace himself, he really did try, yet he managed to devour the food in front of him in a matter of minutes, only pausing every few seconds to breathe. It felt so good, something warm in his stomach. Filling in all the right ways. Once he finished, he pushed the empty container away and just laid his head down sideways on the cool countertop, closing his eyes as he let the food settle.
As much as he wanted to degrade himself for acting this way, reducing himself to such a weird and pathetic state, Leon didn't have the mind to. All he knew right now was that the warmth that the meal Claire made him. Not to sound cliche, but he genuinely believed he could taste the love cooked into it.
For the first time in what was now two and a half weeks, Leon was awake and alert when Chris and Claire came over again. He'd eaten everything Claire made, holding all the now cleaned containers out to her. It was a silent plea for more, and lucky for Leon, she had just made another grocery trip for him.
Unbeknownst to him, Claire had been cooking here at his house. This entire time he thought she'd been bringing the meals over, assumed to be leftovers from cooking for her family. She did confess to hoping the smell of the food cooking would pull him from his room. It didn't, much to her dismay, but now she was just glad he was up and eating again.
As soon as Leon tried to apologize for dragging her away from her family, she was quick to shut him down with that mom stare she'd developed after having her kids. It worked, especially on him.
Chris was busy chatting up Leon while Claire cooked him another set of meals for the next week. It was hard to converse, but Leon did manage to nod and him as the other man talked about some random encounter he had the other day while out driving.
It was strange to feel so lively again. Those thoughts still clung to the back of his mind, though all he could focus on were his friends taking care of him like one of their own. Leon feels like he's been a terrible friend lately, seems as though the siblings standing in his kitchen didn't feel the same. He wasn't showing it, but Leon was definitely holding back a smile.
A couple hours had past, Chris opting to stay with Leon and eat lunch since Claire had to head back and help her husband with something.
The hug Claire gave Leon was phenomenal. After the hug he shared with you he's been craving that physical contact more than ever, so finally getting another good squeeze from a friend was boosting his mood.
Chris and him sat, ate, and talked about whatever came to mind, eventually asking about you.
"How's the painting coming along? Do you like the painter?" He smiled, looking at Leon with wide, curious eyes. That man always had a smile gracing his features.
Leon shrugged, taking a sip from the water he poured himself not too long ago. He was pretty dehydrated after solely drinking alcohol for the past couple weeks. "She's alright. Haven't started the painting yet."
Chris raised an eyebrow, placing his arms on the counter and crossed them as he leaned forward slightly. "Just 'alright'?" he emphasized the word "alright" with air quotes, which caused Leon to scoff.
"What else do you want me to say? I've seen her twice so far and its been fine." Leon lifted his hands up in confusion, palms facing the ceiling as he watched the man sitting next to him rolled his eyes dramatically. "C'mon, she was amazing for Claire and I- Okay, how about this..."
Chris repositioned himself so his entire upper body was facing him now, leaning in a little closer to ask another question. "Do you like the room she works in? Cause I thought it was pretty comfy. When she was focusing on Claire's part of the portrait, I took a nap over on that rug she had. All those pillows mixed with the classical music knocked me the fuck out."
He laughed, shaking his head at memory before looking over at Leon again. "So...? And don't lie to me, I saw that pillow on your couch."
Leon sucked on his teeth and hummed, glancing over his shoulder at his couch. "It's cozy, yeah." He brought his head back forward, patting his hands gently against the counter.
The two chatted for awhile longer before Chris eventually had to leave, giving Leon a firm pat on the shoulder while shaking him a bit. After he left, Leon was left to sit alone and think again, only difference now is he felt better. He was crazy tired, his social battery quickly drained from having his friends around, but he felt good nonetheless.
He wasn't ready at the time, yet after a sober night with solid sleep, Leon woke up the next morning and decided to just text you, hoping you weren't mad at him. Calling would've been too much at that moment, not even have listened to the voicemails you left, or anyone's, for that matter.
His chest felt tight after sending the text, but it was quickly eased about ten minutes later when you responded with nothing but enthusiasm. The smiley face you added at the end of your message made him smile, quickly wiping it away with his hand.
Your next session was arranged two days ahead of time in the late afternoon. Leon wanted to give himself enough time to recollect since he needed to look his best the following weeks. You told him it was time to start with the main painting, which you still needed a picture for.
During that time he finally shaved his stubble, went out and got his hair trimmed, tackled all the laundry he'd neglected, and got his best suit dry cleaned. All thoughts aside, he felt good and wanted to stay this way.
Needless to say, Leon was jittery when he pulled up to your workplace again. He was finally letting himself feel excited again about this painting. If it's anything close to what Chris and Claire's portrait is, then that excitement will only continue to grow the further along you get.
You were already there waiting for him at the door, a gentle smile on your face. That wonderful soft perfume that he missed reaching his nose once more as you lead him up the stairs and through the other door. Chris was right, if he had the opportunity, he'd take a nap on your rug. It looked mighty comfy.
Leon was thankful you didn't ask any questions on his whereabouts, he wasn't ready to talk. You were just as excited as he was about getting the painting started, if not more. Watching you eagerly move back and forth between the larger easel and your desks was a refreshing sight to the man.
You stood at your easel for a couple minutes, just silently looking from the blank canvas to where he was sat. You told him to get into a comfortable position, prompting him rest his right leg on his left knee, leaning back and to the side so he was sitting at a slight angle, arms resting on the chair's armrests.
You stared at him for a few seconds, tilting your head side to side with your eyes squinted. "Let me just-" you spoke in a hushed voice, walking over to Leon before cautiously reaching out to rest one hand on the underside on his chin while the other hovered over the side of his face.
You weren't an idiot, you knew what his absence was from. So you made sure to be careful with him, knowing he was probably still pretty fragile. Only gentle and cautious touches for Mr. Kennedy.
So close yet so far. His skin tingled in your hands wake, and god he hoped you couldn't notice his blush.
You could, but you wouldn't say anything. Besides, you weren't faring well yourself, hands a little shaky as you touched his face.
Leon just let you move his head to whatever position you wanted, his eyes now half-lidded as you had walked back a couple times to get just the right angle. You pulled away for a final time with a small "aha!" and he wished you would hold his head for just a little longer.
The floor where your easel sat was marked with an 'X' made with painter's tape, making it easy for you to stay in the right spot for the photo once you pushed the easel out of the way.
"Don't move." You held your hands up after analyzing his position, quickly hurrying over the corner opposite of your desks to grab a bulky camera that sat atop a tall tripod. You worked as fast as you could, knowing as long as you had a picture with him in this position then this whole process would go so much smoother.
You didn't even have to ask Leon to smile or look up at the camera since he was sitting there with a rather dopey smile, his eyes remaining trained right on yours. Nice and natural. He looked relaxed which is exactly what you wanted.
Just as a precaution, you took multiple pictures, giving him a thumbs up once you figured you'd gotten enough. His head back to rest on the chair at the okay, listening to the sound of you walk over to your laptop after untwisting the camera from the tripod. You printed out 3 copies of the photograph and taped one to a stand you had brought over to sit next to the easel, making sure it sat eye level to you.
The ball was finally rolling, now having what you needed to start with the main sketch. When Leon lifted his head up, he noticed that you were ready, sucking in a sharp breath through his nose while he shifted a little to get back in just the right position.
You twirled your pencil between your fingers before beginning to roughly sketch out the chair, eyebrows furrowing as you focused. Leon could see your expression, how intensely you zoned into your work. It was incredibly admirable and he found himself fully content in just watching you do your thing.
It didn't take long before you had sketched out his general shapes, now walking over to take the sketches you made of his face out of your sketchbook to clip up right next to the reference photo. The more finer details would be added later, but you wanted to get just the basic shapes of his face.
That didn't take long either, because before Leon knew it, you were telling him it was okay to talk. He was pretty animated with his hands when he talked, so you kept him quiet until now.
"Am I easy to draw?" Leon spoke with an almost sultry tone after a few seconds of you telling him he could speak. It threw you off only a bit, carding your fingers through your hair as you took one step back to look at what you had so far.
"I wanna say yes and no." You responded, catching his questioning look from the corner of your eye. "You're easy to sketch out, yes, but your hair is giving me trouble." You could hear a low chuckle rumble from his chest as you stepped back forward. "Hey, you asked." You laughed back.
"I know, I know." He shook his head with a poorly hidden grin, tilting his head down to try and hide it a little better. You immediately pointed your pencil at him, not taking your eyes off the canvas. "I said you could talk, not move." Your sarcastic tone made him chuckle again, slowly lifting his head back up with a sigh.
"Yes, ma'am." You could just hear the smirk in his words, causing you to let out a sigh of your own.
By the time the sun had started to set, you had blocked out all the simple colors for the painting. Right now, it just looked like a very bland and abstract painting. It'll come together, slowly but surely. Trust the process, as people say.
Leon was in awe already, having stood up to look at your progress as you washed your hands over in the small bathroom. Oil paints smeared something fierce and as much as you loved your job, you did not want feel oily at home.
"It already looks stunning." You heard the man say from where he stood in front of the easel. It wasn't quite registering in his brain that it was him on that canvas just yet, but hopefully soon it would.
He wanted to recognize himself in something as wonderful as your art.
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dfortrafalgar · 23 days
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Looooooved ILY! Kudos! It was chair-gripping, tear drenching, rot your teeth fluffy and a bunch of other things in between! Brava! 🥰
If you're still accepting requests (I don't know if you have already been flooded by messages or not) I would like a story about being part of the Kid Pirates but reader is in a really sour mood because it's the anniversary of readers's parents death (you can make up a story if you'd like) and reader disobeys a direct order from him and, to top it off, reader talks back at him in front of the crew, earning the reader a severe punishment (up to you). Eventually Kid finds out why reader's mood is so sour and tries to talk it out except Kid can't be soft and that just makes things more awkward. Could be SFW, could be NSFW, I'm leaving all this up to you. And the ending as well because I only got that far. I hope you like the idea and get excited.
I love your work! ❤️🥰 Thank you for sharing your talent.
HI ANON!!! thank you so much for your request and your super kind words over IMLY, that means so much to me!!!! i know i keep saying this but yall make me smile every single day when i log onto tumblr and see your messages <3
I also really loved writing this request! i really love Kid, but i also wanna kick his ass on the playground if that makes sense, and i think that sentiment came through in my writing ;w; I hope you like it!!! and thank you again!!! (Also, i kept the reason for your parents' death ambiguous, because i know some people (myself included) read fics with their ocs in mind, so you're free to fill in the vagueness with your own personal ideas if you want!)
Feeling Overhaul
Eustass Kid x Fem Reader
The anniversary of your parents' death always leaves you feeling shallow, but your boyfriend's lack of social and situational awareness crops up to make your day even worse.
Warnings: SFW, hurt/comfort, reader being understandably upset, descriptions of an argument with some veeeeery slight verbal abuse, once again hurt/comfort, hurt/comfort. communication is key loves
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Your sour mood had been steadily building over the last few days, but your sorrow reached its peak on the last day of the week, according to the barely legible crew calendar that was based off of when the messenger coos arrived with the weekly paper.  It was a day you despised thinking about, the memories associated with the day leaving your throat tight, an uncomfortable malaise in the pit of your stomach.
All things considered, you thought you were doing a decent job at keeping your emotions in check while performing your usual duties on the Victoria Punk.  The bow of the deck needed a thorough scrubbing, a few spots in the walls of the crow’s nest needed repairs from a recent run in with a smaller, weaker pirate crew, and a few secondary sails needed their holes patched up.  It was a perfect day to distract yourself from your woes.  Drowning your discontent in your work had become quite a valuable skill.
Until you slipped on the soap that lathered the hard wood of the bow and fell flat on your ass.  When trying to stand, your hands gave out under you and you hit the deck once more, one of your crew mates tossing you anxious glances as you struggled to regain your bearings.  Climbing up to the crow’s nest, you were plagued with a sudden wash of grief over the day, so much so that you lost your grip and slipped down the Jacobs ladder, your foot catching on one of the wooden rungs beneath you.  Wire was directly under you, climbing as well to assist with the crow’s nest repairs, and his method of helping you after your slip involved gripping your arm so hard it left a bruise.  You bit back your tears at the pain of your crewmate’s hand around your limb and the humiliation of almost falling 12 feet onto the hard wooden hull, but you once again bit back your shame and finished your arduous climb up.
By the afternoon, word had gotten around the Victoria Punk that your work was lacking, that you were clearly struggling with something, that perhaps you weren’t feeling well.  When it finally got around to Captain Eustass Kid, who doubled as your beloved partner, he was less than pleased.
The last thing he wanted to do was deal with your emotions, and the last thing you wanted to do was deal with his abrasive, apathetic attitude.
“Care to explain why the hell the entire crew has caught you slacking off today?” he demanded, thundering toward you in one of the upper corridors of the ship’s hull.  You were still returning some of the tools you had used to patch up the ship’s sails when he accosted you in the hallway.  It was almost dinner hour, and many of the crew were bustling through the same corridors finishing their afternoon tasks before meal time.
“What?” you snapped back, caught off guard by his threatening question.
“Don’t ‘What’ me.  Why have you been tripping and falling everywhere?  What kind of joke are you trying to play?”  His face was angry, livid even, not granting you even one second to explain your plight.
Your eyebrows furrowed.  “I’m not trying to bumble around the boat like an idiot.  I’m just not feeling well and haven’t been able to focus.”
Kid scoffed.  “Then get over it.”
Perhaps you were being irrational, but at the same time, you had officially had enough of the entire day.  You dropped your supplies on the floor around your feet, heat radiating off of your body in waves.  “What did you just say to me?”
Your captain bent down to be at your level, which was insulting to your current state.  “Get.  Over.  It.”
Anger boiled in your lungs, lighting your heart on fire, blinding the corners of your vision with a fuzzy white light.  You tried to turn your back to him and escape down the corridor, but yelped when Kid grabbed your wrist and pulled you back toward him.
“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong with you?” he asked.  He really couldn’t control the sound of his voice, regardless of his current emotion, and the volume of his shouts filling the space made your body tense up in fear.  Eyes watching the scene unfold around you widened.
Around the corner behind Kid’s back, Killer darted forward, alerted to the sounds emanating from the narrow passage.  “Kid, chill out!”
“Are you going to care about me any more if I tell you?” you demanded back, trying to pull your wrist away from his grip.  His flesh hand held firm, however, almost burning your skin.  He shrugged Killer’s own hand off of his shoulder forcefully, completely ignoring his friend’s plea to calm himself somewhat.
Kid rolled his eyes.  “It better be damn important if it’s got you almost falling off of the Jacobs ladder.”
You steeled yourself, sucking in an uneasy breath and facing your stubborn partner head on.  “Today’s the anniversary of my parents’ death.  I’ve never been able to feel alright when I think about them.”
There was a brief, uncomfortable silence that floated between the two of you, the air in the hallway thrumming with a suffocating tension.  Kid’s grip finally relaxed on your wrist, allowing you to yank it away and rub your sore skin.  His red-painted lips finally parted, and all he graced your ear drums with was, “That’s it?”
Your heart dropped.  “What do you mean ‘that’s it’?”
“Parents die all the time.  What makes today so different?”  His narrow eyes were back to their scathing glare.
At this point, however, you had had enough.  You were practically shaking with a barely contained rage of your own as you stepped closer to your captain and spat in his face, causing him to stagger backward, giving you enough space to let your emotions bubble outward.  “I don’t have to tell you shit if you’re going to talk to me like that!  In front of the entire crew?!  Just because you’re my captain doesn’t mean you get the excuse to accost me in the hallway and berate me for slipping a few times.”  You frantically dug through your brain for words to add to your outburst, perhaps asking how he had the sheer gall to have such an attitude toward you despite dropping his walls and being so kind toward you on an average day, but all you could muster in response was, “Fuck you, Kid.”
You stepped away from him, narrowly missing another one of his lunges to get you to stay.  His voice was low and intimidating.  “Don’t talk to me like that.”
“Then don’t tell me that my day of grieving is stupid!  Fuck!  You!” you spat back, finally turning on your heels and sprinting out of his reach, down the hallway and into the ladder well into the lower deck, desperate to get as far away from your captain as possible.  You knew he was prone to struggling with empathy, and kindness had never been one of his strong suits, but to be talked to in such a way, have your feelings belittled after you had almost severely injured yourself as a consequence of your lacking mental health, hurt more than a stab to the liver.
Kid’s burning gaze followed you as you fled, harshly turning on his own heels to slink to the galley and drown his frustrations in whatever liquor the crew had acquired from the last island.  He bumped Killer’s shoulder, forcing the blonde to the side.  The crew watched as their captain rounded the corner out of sight.
---
You didn’t arrive for the dinner call, your usual seat left unfilled and the plate uneaten.  A few crew mates who hadn’t witnessed the explosive scene from an hour ago asked around for your whereabouts, but the only one who bothered to stand up and search for you was Quincy who quickly ate her meal and abandoned the table.
Kid was pounding back alcohol like no one’s business, leading to many a concerned glance.
“Kid,” Killer muttered.  He rested his masked head in his hand, desperate for context at what he had previously run in on.  “What happened?”
“Nothing,” the red-head grumbled, throwing back another mug of golden beer, some of it dribbling down the side of his mouth.
The few straggling crew members who remained around the large dining table shared worried looks.
“It’s clearly not nothing,” Killer countered.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” snapped Kid.  Even at the age of 23, he was still no better than a bratty little child when things didn’t go his way.
Killer dropped the subject with a sigh, the sound escaping the holes in his mask with a subdued hiss.
Quincy, on the other hand, carefully opened the door to the women’s bunk room where she found you, curled on your side on the mattress that used to belong to you when you first joined the Kid Pirates, your face buried in a pillow and your shoulders shaking with silent sobs.
“Darling,” she cooed, silently tapping across the floor to sit on the side of the bed, her gentle hand ghosting over your arm.  “What happened?  Why didn’t you come to dinner?”
The sound of her voice unraveled you from your coil, your tear-stained face and puffy red eyes meeting her concerned stare.  “Kid and I had a fight,” was all you said.
“About?”
You rolled onto your back, clutching the pillow that was thoroughly drenched in your salty tears to your abdomen.  “Today’s the anniversary of my parents’ death, and when Kid asked me what was wrong, he told me, ‘What makes today so different, parents die all the time.’  Like…?” your voice wavered, “Who says that?  And to his girlfriend nonetheless!”
Quincy made a disappointed tsk sound with her tongue, sympathetically rubbing your arm through the sleeve of your shirt.  “Honey, he’s stupid.  But still, he was wrong to speak to you like that.”
You sniffled, wiping some snot from your face with the arm that wasn’t being caressed by your close friend.  “I know… but it still hurts.  I wish he could just… I don’t know… be nicer to me?”
For what it was worth, both of you knew that Kid wasn’t truly ‘stupid.’  He was strong, strategic, and resilient, but when it came to matters of the heart, his brain dwarfed to the size of a peanut.  It was only a matter of getting the headstrong captain to realize how he had truly hurt you.
“Honey, sleep in here for a few nights to get a proper rest, away from him,” Quincy offered, standing up from her seat on your mattress to approach one of the wardrobes, pulling out a comfortable shirt and baggy pants to relax in.  “Let this blow over for a little while, and then you can try to talk it out with him.  We can help if you need it.”
You sat up yourself, gratefully taking the clothing from her arms, a small smile on your lips.  “Thanks, Quin.”
The curly-haired woman left the bunkhouse to let you change, passing by Killer trudging through the hallway, a towel draped over his scarred arm.  “Hey, have you talked to Kid?”
“He’s drunk off his ass right now,” Killer grumbled, dragging his free hand down his mask in a display of exasperation.  “I couldn’t get him to tell me what happened, but he’s gonna be out of it for the rest of the evening.”
Quincy bit the inside of her cheek as she assessed the first mate’s message.  “I’ll tell you.”
---
It had been about three days since the argument Kid had blasted you with in front of your crew mates, your humiliation and anger toward your captain burning a hole into your lungs.  You couldn’t contain your tears for at least six hours after your initial outburst, the grief of losing your parents in the way you had all those years ago now partnered with the anguish of screaming at Kid… and spitting on his face.  The act was so beneath you, and yet.  Dive and Hip, who had seen the argument first-hand, had helped to assure you that you weren’t in the wrong for what you had said, reassuring your stance that Kid was far too intimidating when all he wanted was a simple answer for your strange behavior.
Heat had come to you with a covered plate containing the dinner you had missed, informing you that Kid still had a very poor system of managing his emotions.  While you understood this first hand, being his partner for the better part of a year, you still didn’t believe that was a proper excuse to diminish your emotions in the way he had.
After those three days of your absence, strategically avoiding him at all hours of the day, Kid was fed up.  He needed to talk.  His bed was too empty without you.
Killer told him it would be a bad idea to call you to his quarters, but he did it anyway.  And when your anxious knocking reverberated through the thick wooden door of his cabin, he was quick to call your name and grant you entry.
You stepped in, shutting the door softly behind you, keeping your head low.  Kid stood from his mattress, clearing the floor in broad steps and trying his best to lay on the charm, wrapping his large arm around you and cooing his best, casual greeting, “Hey, babe, I’ve missed you.”
You shrugged yourself away from him, your eyes downcast.  You looked… hollow.  “Did you want something from me, captain?”
Kid felt a foreign pang deep in his chest.  You hadn’t been referring to him as your boyfriend or partner.  Right now, he was strictly ‘captain,’ and that notion left him feeling far too empty and vulnerable for his liking.
Fuck, he wasn’t good at this in any way.
Your gaze bore scorching holes into his own eyes, silently demanding the apology that you knew you deserved to hear from him.  With a deep sigh, Kid turned around and stomped back to his mattress, dropping his head into his hands.
“I didn’t know your parents died,” he blurted.
You stayed quiet.
“I don’t know what you want me to say.”  His voice was a low grumble.
You suppressed a scoff.  “How about, ‘Sorry for yelling at you in front of the crew?’  Or, ‘I’m sorry for saying that your feelings don’t matter.’  Something like that, maybe.”  Your voice, in comparison, was eerily level, your time to be physically upset with the situation having expired two days ago.  Now all you were left with was an uncomfortable feeling of unease, a hole in your heart where Kid usually sat now being emptied and replaced with a barren cavern that desperately wished to be occupied by the man you loved once more.
Because you really did love him.  You knew his lifestyle, his behaviors, his tendencies toward cruelty.  And yet, he remained kind toward you.  He allowed you to open up to him and did the same in turn, and he nestled himself perfectly, albeit clumsily, into your life.  You didn’t want to lose that.
Watching as Kid clearly struggled forming those two little words on his tongue was like watching someone perform self-surgery.  His pride had impeded his sense of empathy for so long that the simple notion of apologizing was such an estranged concept for him.
How stunted.
But you held firm, remaining in front of his closed door as he kept his head in his hand, his thick fingers teasing through his slightly greasy red hair.  After what felt like an eternity, he finally picked his head up.  “I’m sorry.”
There it was.
He continued, sucking in a shaky breath.  “I really didn’t know it was the anniversary of your family’s death.  I wish I asked you about it sooner instead of… that.”
You stayed quiet.
“... Instead of yelling at you like that.  And attacking you for something that was out of your control.”  He kept his voice low, as if he was carefully picking out his words from a small bucket inside his thick skull.
After a few uncomfortable moments of silence, you released the tension in your shoulders with a sigh.  “And I’m sorry for spitting on you.  And for cursing you out.”
“No, you shouldn’t apologize,” Kid stated, finally picking up his head and gazing at you, his eyebrows furrowed.  “I deserved it, really.”  His fingers anxiously rubbed the rough fabric of his pants.  “Killer sat me down and gave me a bit of a beat down.  Physically and verbally.  Because I know I’m not good at this.  I’m not a good person.  And I really fucked up with you.”
You remained firm with your feelings, but you finally approached his bed and sat next to him, leaving a comfortable gap between your bodies that your captain, your partner, didn’t try to close.  He kept his distance from you, silently ensuring that you were allowed, and encouraged, to open up to him when you were the most comfortable.
“I just want to make sure that you actually mean it,” you whispered.  “And that you’re not just saying that without believing it.”
“I mean it,” Kid confirmed, his voice unwavering.  “I really do.”
You gazed at him apprehensively.  “... Promise?”
Silently, Kid held out his pinky toward you.
You looked at his finger, confusion glossing your features.  “What are you doing?”
“Have you never made a pinky promise before?” he asked.
Your mouth threatened to curl into a small smile.  “Can’t say that I have.”
Kid released his hand only so he could take yours, folding your fingers down so only your own pinky stuck out from your fist.  He repeated the motion with his own hand, curling his smallest digit around your own.  “It’s a promise that I mean what I said.  Killer and I used to do this all the time as kids.”
Your composure finally broke as you snorted, your own finger curling around his.  “That’s sweet…”
“The point is that, if I break the promise, you get to break my finger,” he explained.
“Suddenly everything makes sense,” you uttered, your lips finally curling into a grin.  “Don’t give me an excuse to break your finger.”
In response to your lighthearted plea, Kid raised his hand with yours still attached and pulled back down in a handshake gesture.  “Never.”
Your finger stayed curled around his as you gazed at your hand.  “I’m still kind of upset with you.”
Kid’s shoulders stiffened.  “I get why.”  After you stayed silent for a few extra moments, he finally asked, “What can I do to make it up to you?”
Your eyes bore into his once more, his gaze remaining steady as well.  “You can start by not jumping to conclusions… or being accusatory without any context.”  You sighed.  “I’m not telling you to change your entire personality, Kid, because I know who you are.  And I fell in love with the normal, regular You.  But I just ask for a little bit of kindness.”
Kid released your pinky in order to lace his entire hand with yours.  “I’ll give you more than a little.”
“Or I can break your pinky?” you asked once more, another small smile breaking out on your face.
Your partner grinned.  “I’ll throw myself overboard if you ask.”
You finally closed the gap between your bodies, tentatively laying your head on his shoulder.  “No… I wouldn’t want to lose you like that.”
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hwaslayer · 4 months
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project: make you love me (jyh) | 13.5
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♣︎ spotify playlist | series masterlist
—summary: yunho can’t stand how you’re so wrapped up in the notorious campus fuckboy, park seonghwa. he would gladly love you the way you deserve, despite being shy, awkward and the complete opposite of seonghwa. thus, when he finds himself spending more time with you over literature reviews and random study sessions, he decides to take on the challenge to win you over.
—pairing: jeong yunho x f. reader x park seonghwa
—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers/friends to lovers, college au | fluff, angst, smut
—word count: 1.8k
—chapter content/warnings: cussing/mature language, just a peek into some stuff that happened over break, very self indulgent honestly i just wanted more yuyu time lolol, the usual teasing between these lovebirds, making out, handjob, teensy weensy bit of spit play, unprotected sex, riding yunho after hes fresh out the shower purrrr 🤪
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—a/n: hi! dropping a bonus chapter because it's like ... kinda necessary in order for the next update to make sense? more self indulgent tho LOL but it wasn't long enough to be a chapter chapter 😭 anywho, enjoy!! pls vote on my poll if you haven't already cause ya girl needs to figure out her priorities hehe ty 💕
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"Get in the damn car! We're late!" Chaery yells at Seungmin as he lazily walks over after forcing for a pitstop just to get snacks. Yunho laughs as he watches from the rear view mirror, popping his mouth open when you lean over and feed him a fish ball.
"Why don't you get in and stop worrying about me? I'm getting there!" You hear Seungmin yell back as Soobin swings the door open and slides into the back seat.
"Maybe they'll never notice if we just drive off?" Soobin suggests, making Yunho chuckle again.
"He's almost to the car." 
"Why is she hella mad anyway?" Soobin shivers in his jacket.
"He's taking his sweet ol' time. Plus, you know how Chaery is. Her family is full of seasoned travelers. They don't do pitstops and stuff." You dip the fish ball into the sauce and pop it into your mouth.
"Right." Soobin sips on his cup of coffee, scooting closer to the door when Chaery and Seungmin finally slip into their seats.
"We're literally so behind now. You made Yuyu wait." She continues to go at Seungmin, making him roll his eyes.
"Yunho, I'm sorry. I really had to use the bathroom. Some people don't understand it's a thing." 
"You're good." Yunho starts up the car and instantly turns up the heat. "We've only got about an hour and a half left." 
Today, you and your friends were off to spend a few days deep in the snow; renting a huge cabin near a snowboarding and ski resort. Yunho graciously offered to drive, patiently dealing with your friends and their requests on the way over.
Yunho heads to the cabin to help drop off the bags before meeting up with the rest already at the ski resort. He pulls into valet while the rest of you hop out and head straight into the store to get some gear and rent some snowboards. You find the rest of your friends hanging around in the café, sipping on hot cocoa while waiting for your group to arrive. Everyone is in good spirits, excited to see Yunho alongside of you. Even though he's tagged along a few times, you still can't help but feel worried about Yunho. You don't want him to feel isolated or left out, especially if you and your friends already have a good bond with each other. But, he fits in so well every single time, you almost feel like he's been friends with them for as long as you have been.
He tries, and the effort shows.
Once the snowboarding finally takes off, you find out that Yunho has been snowboarding before and is pretty comfortable with it. You, on the other hand, are terrified out of your mind. It takes a few tries, a patient Yunho and constant falls before you're [at the very least] boarding in a straight path. But, you're having fun and sharing lots of laughs with your friends, and you find yourself enjoying yourself no matter the circumstance.
After an hour or so of boarding, you, Yunho and a few of your friends sit off to the side to observe everyone else and play around with the snow in the surrounding area. You give your sister a Facetime call during the brief break, getting your friends and Yunho in the screen. Your sister kept calling Yunho a cutie, demanding for you to bring him over for dinner ASAP. Yunho agrees and tells your mom and sister that he'll see them soon again, waving goodbye before helping you stand to your feet for another round of snowboarding.
You and your friends are out there for another 1.5 hours before you call it quits, heading back to the cabin for a relaxing rest of the evening before another day of playing in the snow tomorrow. Everyone pitches in to make a good, hearty dinner— Yunho and a few of the other boys grilling in the covered back patio while the girls stayed indoors and finished preparing the rest of the dishes over some drinks. Once everything is set, everyone sits at the table and quietly enjoys their food before debating what to watch for the rest of the night.
After dinner, most of the food is gone, and the group is cleaning around before you head upstairs to your shared room with Yunho. You take a shower first, while Yunho hangs out with the group downstairs, enjoying the hot water as it hits your skin. You take a good, lengthy 20 minute shower; gently moisturizing before getting into Yunho's shirt and some shorts, leaving your wet hair to air dry.
Luckily, the cabin is warm enough, but you know you'll get cold the longer you sit around. Before leaving the room, you turn on the portable heater just to warm the room a bit more before you get to bed. By the time you've headed back downstairs, a few of your friends are huddled around the living room now watching a true crime docuseries with some snacks; the rest already resting in their rooms or asleep from the eventful day.
"I'm gonna shower." Yunho kisses your cheek before excusing himself to shower. You watch for a bit before helping clean up around the kitchen and living room. You then bid your friends goodnight— the exhaustion kicking in quick that you don't really have time to sit and enjoy the rest of the docuseries they've started. When you get back into the room with a cup of tea in hand, Yunho has just turned off the shower and steps out in nothing but a towel. His hair is damp and you can't help but ogle at his frame, his body. "Hey. You didn't wanna watch?"
"No, the exhaustion is hitting me pretty badly now. I just helped clean up a bit downstairs and made some tea."
"Mm. Is the room warm enough for you?" He points at the portable heater that he's turned up a bit more.
"Yes. It's cozy." You chuckle. "Thank you." You sit on the bed with your back against the wall, watching as Yunho takes a seat on the edge. He's running a smaller wet towel across his damp hair, his back facing you. You can't help but crawl over and throw your arms over his shoulders, planting random kisses against the side of his neck and shoulders.
"Cutie." He chuckles. "What can I do for you?" 
"A kiss?" He smiles, dipping forward to connect his lips with yours in a sweet kiss. 
"You sure that's all?" He teases. "You know you can just tell me, baby."
"That's all." You continue to kiss him, hand traveling down his chest, to grazing across the tent forming in his towel. 
"Hey." He whines in between kisses, slightly hissing when you continue to gently palm him through the towel. "If you keep doing that, I won't be able to stop myself."
"Your fault for walking out of the damn bathroom when it's literally below 0 outside." He laughs, hands falling onto your hips when you crawl onto his lap.
"It was warm enough in here!"
"Sure." You playfully roll your eyes.
"Take these off." He whispers, tugging on your shorts.
"So bold." You tease as he helps you out of your shorts and bites his bottom lip.
"Mm, well. You started it." His hands come up your shirt to squeeze your sides. "Care to show me what exactly you need, love?" He smirks, a drip of a suave tone slipping through his lips.
"Mhm." You sit back a bit and run your hand up his towel to gently stroke his already-hardened member. He hisses and tilts his head back in pleasure, tempted to thrust into your hand as you pump him at a steady pace. He lets out low, strangled moans, trying his best to keep contact with you through hooded lids. You take the opportunity to spit onto his dick, letting it drip down the head and down his length while you pick up the pace. Yunho's moans are a little louder now, and hearing it drives you crazy.
"Jesus." He lowly groans. "Baby, wait, wait, wait—" He grabs at your wrist and stops you. "You'll make me cum if you keep going."
"You don't want that?"
"No. Or else, we would've gone through all that trouble of taking off your shorts for nothing." You giggle, adjusting your position to line him up at your entrance. 
"We have to be quiet."
"Do we? They have the docuseries on loud downstairs." You slowly sink down his length, lips attaching to his as you both let out soft moans while adjusting to the feeling.
"Mm, but there's still rooms across—" Yunho chases after your lips, enclosing it in a heated kiss before you can say anything else. He grips onto your hips and guides you at a steady pace, more gargled and low moans leaving him as you work him.
"They won't hear a thing, pretty. Don't worry." He smirks against your lips. "Is it really a bad thing, though?"
"Yunho." You giggle, tilting your head back in pleasure when his cock hits you in all the right places, clit rubbing against him perfectly. 
"Love when you say my name like that." He mutters against your neck, tongue swiping against the surface before he bites onto your neck. You let out a sigh just as his hand comes to your neck, gently squeezing as he watches you ride him at a steady rhythm.
"You feel so good." Your hands trail up the nape of his neck, tugging at the ends of his hair. His hands come back to your sides as he whispers in your ear, praising and cooing you straight to the edge.
Gonna keep being a good girl for me?
Riding me like you were made for me.
So pretty, so beautiful.
My baby.
And it only takes a couple of more rolls against Yunho before you're twitching and trembling in his grip, digging your nails into his shoulders as he thrusts up into you and fills you up shortly afterwards. He groans as lets out every last bit into you, lips grazing against your neck before planting a soft trail there, to your jaw, to your lips.
"That was fun." You say, making Yunho chuckle.
"Let's get cleaned up." He looks down at the towel that's now on the floor. "Again." You laugh, heading to the bathroom to clean up, get dressed and do some final touches before slipping into bed with Yunho. He instantly pulls you into his arms, wrapping one around your shoulders while you lay on his chest. "Can barely keep my eyes open now." You smile when Yunho kisses you on the forehead, letting out a content sigh with you in his arms.
"Yunho?"
"Mhm?"
"Thanks for coming along on this little trip."
"Wouldn't miss it for a thing, love." He hums against you, falling asleep in due time just to repeat the agenda all over again tomorrow.
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219 notes · View notes
pathetichimbos · 7 months
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Well, guys, a single person told me I should make this into a post, and so now you're all getting another fabulous take on Thomas Hewitt I've been looking for an excuse to talk about.
Question: 'Do you think realistically would it be hard to get into a relationship with Tommy?'
Short Answer: Yes! And no.
Ha, you really thought there'd be a short answer to this? No, let's dive in.
Thomas, on the surface, is a very awkward, to himself kind of guy. He doesn't like stepping out of his comfort zones, and he hates change. He thrives on strict routine, and isn't one to do something without being told. (ex: he doesn't take initiative at the slaughterhouse, he does exactly as he's told and doesn't stray from those rules)
He has an extremely strong sense of familial bond and ties to his family, he wouldn't betray them for anything, (and yes, that includes you too). It's a huge cultural things in small towns. It doesn't matter who your family is or what they've done. It's true ride or die mentality.
Considering these things, if you want to hope to have a relationship with him, you're gonna have to take up their lifestyle. Every part of it.
If you've ever been to an old southern woman's house, you know how insulting it is to refuse food. It's practically the same thing as spitting on their shoes and slapping them in the face. If you refuse a home cooked meal, especially when you're still considered a 'guest' in the house, you will end up on their bad side.
And Thomas is a Mama's boy, through and through, if his mother doesn't like you, he doesn't like you.
And that mentality is only doubled for the Hewitts. Their family has starved, and if you've ever struggled for food, you understand why they won't let it happen again. I could go into a whole in depth analysis on the Hewitt family and their cannibalism, but let's get back to Tommy.
Thomas doesn't trust people easily. It's in their family, in his blood. The Hewitts (especially after they start murdering people) are suspicious and unforgiving people. People will often assume that they became isolated after the town died out and everyone left, but in reality, they were isolated long before that, as Luda Mae, Hoyt, and even Monty (though much less than the other two) wouldn't tolerate Tommy's mistreatment and abuse.
And as for Thomas' personal distrust, I can almost guarantee there were several times people would pretend to be his friend or even go as far as 'asking him out' only to immediately burst into laughter and mock him the moment he got excited.
Now, he's much more closed off and distrusting of strangers kindness and friendliness.
...But, he's a huge romantic.
He absolutely loves the idea of having someone to love.
His favorite books Luda Mae would read to him as a child were the princess stories. He would dream of being the prince charming, saving the princess from the retched beast so they could get married and live happily ever after.
But, as he got older, he started believing he was better fit for the role of the filthy monster that never falls in love.
Packaging all this up into one neat present, you get a pretty clear idea of what kind of man Thomas is.
So, how does one actually end up in a relationship with him?
It's simple! In the most complicated way possible.
First, is actually meeting him in a none murderer-victim setting, because once you hit that area, there's really no going back. If he's told you're next, you're next.
He's going to be really suspicious of you, no matter what you do really. Even if you do become 'friends', he's a rather anxious man, and he's going to have doubts for a long time.
You're going to have to get on everyone's good side. Like I said before, he cares deeply about his family and their opinions, and being around them and accepted by them is a non-negotiable. And I don't just mean Luda Mae, I mean everyone, including Monty and Hoyt.
Speaking of Hoyt, that will have it's own ground rules as well.
Thomas, despite being a big hunk of a man who could easily toss around someone twice Hoyt's weight, is not the man of the house. Hoyt is like a father figure to him, and he looks up to him. Well, not in every way, but you get the picture.
He isn't going to take well to you bad-mouthing Hoyt. Of course, he doesn't care if you want to rant about the man's annoying presence sometimes, but it depends on how close the two of you are and what you're saying.
If you try to accuse the man of being abusive, or not caring about his family, Thomas isn't going to like it. Hoyt is a mean hothead, sure, and by today's standards, most people probably would consider him abusive to a certain extent, but this is a small southern town in the 1970s.
Hell, most of the 'abusive' traits Hoyt show are still practiced in small towns to this day, and are considered normal behavior. Again, I could go into a whole spiel about Hoyt's character and actions, but I'll get to the point.
If there is one thing true about Hoyt, it's that he cares about his family. Every action he takes is in their interest, and he'd put his life on the line to keep them safe, including Thomas. Hell, he protected Tommy as a kid just as much as Luda Mae did.
So, yea, really any bad talk about his family is going to get you on his bad side.
But, let's say that you follow these rules, and you mesh well with his family and him, how long will it take for Tommy to actually catch feelings for you?
...Pretty much almost immediately.
Thomas is reserved and untrusting, yes, but he catches crushes faster than a Tommy-hater can catch these hands. (for reference, that's really fast)
He's a sweetheart, and eager to be loved and accepted, so the irrational, romantic side of his brain eager hops on the Y/N train the moment you show him any real affection.
But as for actually loving you? That's going to take a really long time.
Luda Mae always raised him on the idea that love can't exist without trust, and he takes that to the extreme. He literally won't consider a relationship with you until he can completely trust you with his whole heart.
And once that trust is earned and the two of you become 'official', that's it. He's in it for life. In his eyes, you're the only one for him, and he takes that belief to heart. So it is extremely important that you only enter the relationship when you're 100% ready. He won't understand the concept of needing a 'break', or time apart. Once you're in it, you're in it, and if you ever leave, there's no coming back, and Thomas will leave your life entirely, with the rest of the Hewitts shunning you as a result.
Because of this, it's also important to remember that there really is no such thing as 'harmless' flirting with Thomas. He doesn't understand the concept of friendly flirting. He's either going to assume that you're mocking him or that you actually do have feelings for him.
Communication is a huge key with this man!!! He doesn't pick up well on hints or social cues. Be up front of and honest about you're feelings or he will have no idea how you really feel, and it'll only cause heartbreak and confusion in the long run.
...Well. Now that I've practically made a How-to Guide on romancing Thomas, I think I'll call it here. Good luck on attracting your local Hewitt boys. See y'all in the next one.
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braxlrose · 11 months
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Can u write Bill doing after care? Like being all cute, bubbly baths and stuff😊 (idk what ima saying but u get me.. right?)
bill kaulitz aftercare hcs
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as I've said before in past posts, he is literally the king of aftercare.
- after having sex, he does that thing after you guys are finished and stares into your eyes and just goes "Hi." while you guys catch your breathe
- he basically places kisses ALL over your body, especially if he left bruises. he doesn't want his little baby to be in any pain
- he will also carry you into the bathroom and literally make you pee 💀 no UTI's here apparently. but after he starts you a nice, warm bath.
- he has all the works. bubble bath, bath salts, oils, different kinds of scents to make the bathroom all nice, even lights candles too and dims down the bathroom.
- he gives a massage in the bath tub and after when you guys are back in bed. he doesn't want you to be sore at all, so he makes sure you feel okay.
- and on that note, he will ask you like a million times if you're okay. he wants to make sure he didn't do anything bad or hurt you in any way.
- and he's very big on praising. telling you how good you did for him, and how beautiful you looked, how good you took his cock.
- he literally won't shut up. he full-heartedly believes you're the single most beautiful thing in the entire world. when bill falls in love, he falls in love hard. so he will literally do anything to protect, and always makes sure you know how much he loves you.
- if you had been in past relationships where they were abusive in any way, physical, verbal, emotional, he would take things slow with you. making sure you were comfortable, help you realize not all touches have to be bad. he wants you to know you're the greatest, most beautiful person in the whole world and will never stop telling you that, even if you don't believe it.
- if you guys were trying something new in bed, after he would make sure you were okay and not hurt at all. Whether it was a new position or using different toys, he wants you to be super comfortable and never force you to do anything you didn't want to.
- he's also very, very big on safe words/movements? (Idk if that's the right word but like if you can't talk, then like two taps or something). And you guys also do the traffic light system, especially if you're trying out something new. but if you ever want to stop, even if he's about to cum, he'll pull out and make sure you're okay. if you want to just take a break, he'll do whatever you want, making sure you feel okay and then getting back to it. and if you want to stop all together, he'll make sure you feel okay and then change the sheets and start the aftercare
- if you're someone who gets very emotional after sex, he'll hold you and kiss you for however long to want and make sure you feel safe. he views sex as an extremely intimate and vulnerable thing, so he completely understands how and why you're emotional after it.
- if you don't want a bath after sex, he'll still clean you off, even if he didn't cum on you or anything. you're both extremely sweaty and sleeping in sweat is literally awful, so he wipes you down with a cloth and kisses you everywhere.
- if you two aren't tired after sex, he'll order you two some food and put on a movie. he loves being able to hold you at any time, so he absolutely adores this part of aftercare.
- if you two are tired after sex, you guys will get cleaned off and then fall right asleep. he really likes it when you're laying on top of him or you guys are spooning.
taglist:
@hearts4kaulitz @burntb4bydoll @spelaelamela @bored0writer @fishinaband @billsleftnutt @dead-tapes
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meanbossart · 4 months
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Alright, I am like 90% sure there is ONE line in A Novel Experience touching on Gale GTFOing rapidly, so I don't think there are answers in there for me. So I come to you and ask-WTF went on between Gale and Drow???
Alright, so
There are two versions to what happened to Gale in my first campaign (the OG DU drow campaign that this whole universe is based around), lets begin with the technical version. As I've only somewhat recently come to understand, my Gale was bugged. I had 1 interaction early in the game that slightly veered into romance which didn't go anywhere, and first chance I had I clarified that I was not interested in him that way (the whole reason why It happened in the first place was because i misunderstood his dialogue). Despite this, and despite me turning him down in every romantic interaction following, I kept getting them and my interactions with him were as if we were romantically involved. I even got one exchange (the one about muscles glistening and cheeks flushed) twice, and rejected him both times.
So, later in the game once DU drow and Astarion sucessfully 5d chess-ed their way into falling In love, I was surprised to still be informed i had to "break things off" with Gale if I wanted to get with him. Which I did. And he gave me a whole spiel about it.
Now it's crucial you understand this was early in the game's release, I went into it completely blind and I had never played a game like Baldur's Gate before, so I was not familiar with the mechanics at all, which... Kind of led me to believe Gale was just like that normally.
From that point on I was highly amused, but for roleplaying purposes I decided my drow would have been highly annoyed and a little creeped out. And so I proceeded to be extremely rude to the guy at every chance I got. This eventually resulted In him pursuing the crown of Karsus despite me (rudely) telling him that was a very dumb idea.
The second version of what happened, as I already touched on above a little bit, Is the Narrative one. As I mentioned I had no clue what was and wasn't supposed to happen, so I just... Went along with it within the role-play.
So our beloved DU drow gets worms. He goes on a grand adventure with this weird possy of people to find a cure. When the tiefling party comes everybody except Astarion wants to get into his pants (because I left him on the beach for like a week and then proceeded to be The Rudest to him, sorry babe, I didn't see your pale ass and the asshole dialogue options were Really funny).
Someone else who Didn't seem to wanna fuck him was the wizard. He said he just wanted to show him a magic trick and he (and, I'll admit, me) really thought that was just that. The scene unfolds, Gale tries to teach DU Drow to cast a spell but his 9 intelligence says No. The unsolicited date ends abruptly because Gale is upset that a champion fighter without a single cantrip makes for a shitty wizard. DU Drow thinks thats the end of that - It's Not.
Then what proceeds to happen is a long, annoying, somewhat unsettling dynamic where Gale continually tries to pursue him throughout the game, coming to the point where the guy I'm Actually interested in thinks we are together - and when DU drow tells him verbatim that he had no idea they were even a thing in Gale's mind, he has to hear him whine about it. Add to that the fact that all Gale talks about is his ex-girlfriend, DU drow is (kind of justifiably) led to believe he must be a Profound weirdo to whom he cannot ever say even a Neutral word to again lest he becomes any more infatuated with him - 0r whatever the hell is going on.
Whether it be DU drow's own inflated ego or the actual truth, when Gale begins to pursue the crown he also assumes he's just doing it to spite him - so he isn't the kindest to him about that either.
And within this narrative that I concocted around a simple bug that didn't let me end a romance, I cannot imagine Anyone getting on particularly well with Gale within my main party. Drow thinks he's madly in love with him, Shadowheart is probably a little confused but she trusts DU Drow's word on the matter more than the Wizard's, Astarion thinks... What Astarion thinks.
So, no, they didn't part on the best of terms.
Before anyone gets mad, I assure you - I've completed the game again since then, I realize this is Not the intended Gale experience. He's a hysterical and deeply interesting character and only Slightly clingy and weird.
But, you gotta admit, this is way funnier.
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luvhughes43 · 1 year
Text
tornado warning | nico hischier x reader
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summary: every summer nico comes back home to Switzerland and resumes his fling with yn even though she knows it’s not good for her.
lyrics: "don't understand how quickly we get right back in our rhythm without missing a step, and logically the last thing i should have on my mind but i want you there sometimes"
"i guess maybe thats why im lying to my therapist, i keep saying things like "i never saw him and we never kissed"
word count: 1.1k
you and nico were kind of a thing before he moved to the us for hockey. it was the average high school relationship, hand holding and late night talks on the phone. it was never supposed to be how it is now. you weren’t together, but every time off-season hit, Nico was back in Switzerland and you were suddenly calling out for him and he was there, every single time. 
Don't understand how quickly we get
Right back in our rhythm without missing a step
And logically, the last thing I should have on my mind
But I want you there sometimes
he had just gotten back in the country less than 24 hours ago, and your mind was already reeling with how quick everything was already going. he was in your bed shirtless, arms slung around your waist as soft music played in the background. you could feel the rise and fall of his chest against your side, and you could feel his soft hair against your fingertips as you let them brush across his scalp.
“Ni?” you whispered, unsure if he had already fallen asleep.
“Yes?” he replied groggily, not bothering to move so he could look up at you.
you debated on asking him what the two of you were, what you were even doing. you knew that when he inevitably left you again at the end of the summer you would be a wreck, and despite yours, your friends, and your therapists advice, you couldn’t quit Nico. 
I guess maybe that's why 
I'm lying to my therapist
I keep saying things like 
"I never saw him and we never kissed"
your lovely therapist knew all about your relationship with Nico. It was a topic that came up regularly during your hour-long sessions. 
“I just don’t know what i’m going to do about this, like… we always fall back into how things were, and i just don’t know if i can do it anymore,” you went over your dilemma for what seemed like the hundredth time. your therapist nodded her head slowly as she listened to you once again reiterate your issues. 
she set her pen down against her notepad before looking into your eyes, “be honest, have you seen him since he came back?” she questioned and you tried to still your fidgeting. 
“No, i never saw him. I’ve just heard from friends who’ve seen him around,” you lied smoothly, shifting a little on the couch you were sitting on. If your therapist knew you had kissed him too… multiple times… you knew what she’d say. she wants you to move on but how can you when Nicos at your doorstep and is asking for you? you just can’t seem able to get over him.
I think he's onto me every time I say
"I'm over that son of a bitch"
“I am so over him,” you slur to your friends who all give each other side glances. you’ve been telling them the same thing for years, and it seemed like Nico had a sixth sense when it came to you trying to get over him. Every time you declared you were over him, he was calling or doing something to pull you right back in.
“yn honey, why don’t you-” your friend started but you eagerly cut her off.
“no like seriously this time, how dare he come back to me! like he thinks he can just come back into my life every damn time!” you practically shouted, getting up off the couch to really make your point clear. You pointed in the directions of each of your friends and continued, “next time he calls, guys i swear just take my phone and block him because i am never, and i mean never! talking to him again!” you slurred your words and your friends just nodded at your new attempt to rid yourself of Nico.
not even a minute later he was calling your phone, your ringtone blaring through the material of your jeans as you urgently fished it out. “yn who is it?” one of your friends asked as she moved to stand next to you. 
a goofy smile took over your face once you saw Nicos contact. The rest of your friends didn't even need to peek at your phone to know who was calling. “i’m just going to answer it,” you giggled a bit, pulling away from your small group of friends.
“yn no! you just said you were never going to talk to him again!” your friend jumped off the couch and rushed over to you, trying to grab your phone out of your hand before you accepted the call. 
she was too late. you shielded your phone from her and quickly accepted, smiling into the phone once you heard Nicos voice on the other end of the call.
“Ni!” you giggled into the call, all of your previous sentiments ignored the second you heard his voice asking for you to come over. all of your friends watched you walk out the door and into his car, all of them groaning when you two drove off.
I'll drive you home
You drive me crazy
But that's not gonna stop me
I'll call you out
You call me "baby"
it was nico’s last night in switzerland before he was catching a flight back to jersey. you were driving him home after a late night at your apartment, not having the urge to turn him away when he called saying he wanted to properly tell you goodbye.
“you drive me crazy, Ni” you sighed, watching him unbuckle himself out of your passenger side. 
“what are you talking about baby?” he asked, seemingly unaware of the effect his words had on you. 
“I’m not your baby” you admitted softly, turning around so you can face him full on. his brow furrowed at your words. you desperately wanted to say something to him, bring up your feelings or how conflicted you were about this whole relationship-that-wasn’t. but you guys were never the ones to sit and chat about all your feelings, so you let it all go. 
“I’m sorry, i think i’m just tired” you tried laughing it off but it sounded a little strained. 
“well we had a busy night,” Nico laughed as you felt your face heat up, turning around so he could face you properly too.
you smiled at him, painfully aware that this was the last time you’d be seeing him in months. you felt the lump grow in your throat, and you painfully swallowed it back as Nico reached for the door handle. 
Nico opened the door. he halfway outside before he seemingly realized something and leaned back inside, kissing you softly on the lips over the middle of your console. 
he pulled away too soon, and then you sat watching him walk away. The lump in your throat getting more painful with every step he took. you had no idea how you were going to get him out of your mind this time.
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maaarshieee · 2 years
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⎯⎯ ୨ 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐨𝐫 ୧ ⎯⎯
➢ Kᴜɴɪᴋᴜᴢᴜsʜɪ x Gɴ!Rᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
➢ 1.3k ᴡᴏʀᴅs ┊ Fʟᴜғғ
➢ Mᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ
a/n - greeting scaranation. he's been in my twitter feed and tumblr reccs for weeks now. i cant escape him. so why not embrace it? heres a oneshot for that once idle animation he has! credits to my platonic spouse for their wonderful idea <3 anyways, i hope you like this one! ive never played genshin but i've made a character analysis on him to write him accurately, abeilt a bit soft on this oneshot to further showcase what i think his change would be after receiving a vision/being in nahida's care. titled "caring for"! have a good day/night!
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The Wanderer likes his Vision more than he'd like to admit, you observed.
Ever since he received it, there's this spark of life in his eyes when he looks at you and a slight upward curve at the corners of his lips. They're not noticeable, but they are to you.
Kunikuzushi cradled that Vision as if it was a baby the first few nights he had it. He wasn't aware you knew since you'd peeked into the room he was temporarily resting in before entering it. Tears threatened to fall from his eyes, hands shook uncontrollably. For a while, there was hesitance and doubt that resided in his mind.
Of all people, him? A puppet? Attaining a Vision?
There were times when he would entrust his Vision to you. He was still in denial. Holding that Vision was like holding a piece of burning coal to him. But you were very patient with him, so you cared for his Vision in his stead.
Perhaps he learnt to accept it when he saw you tend to his Vision as if it were him. You occasionally wipe it with a clean piece of cloth, polishing it and showing him the way it shines against the sunlight. When you held it, it was almost mesmerizing. The faint glow of turquoise complimenting the color of your loving eyes, painting beautifully along your features.
He had thought that it would be best if you had a Vision, not him. Eventually, he changed his mind. All because of you, of course.
"You don't want it?" You hummed, rubbing a hand on your chin thoughtfully whilst you stared at his Vision. It prettily fits you more, He wanted to say, but held his tongue and instead hid his face with his hat. "Alright," You quickly accepted which elicited a confused look from Kunikuzushi.
You just laughed softly at his expression, holding the Vision close to your heart. "This is undeniably part of you, and if you don't want it, I'll keep it for you." You say with a sigh, a tender smile etching your lips. "I'll care for it for as long I can, whether you accept it or not."
To the Wanderer, your laugh is comparable to the gentle breeze that greets him every waking morning, making his hair flutter against the wind and his skin quiver from the cold. Your smile radiated warmth, it reminds him of the campfires you two make every single night, where you share meals, talk about whatever, and enjoy the warmth of the dancing flames. It made his hollow chest clench.
He's never snatched something from your hands so fast before. "I was merely testing you," He lies, holding his Vision whilst he stared you down threateningly (not really), "This is mine, you hear?"
Kunikuzushi felt heat crept up his neck when you burst into a fit of giggles, nodding your head in understanding.
More often than not, there's a stride in his walk whenever he's outside with you, freshly obtained Vision placed right on the left side of his chest, where his heart should be. You didn't miss that when he revealed his new outfit to you. He would puff out his chest briefly when he spoke to you, hands on his hips and a smirk on his face.
Your chest swelled with pride when you see him be so proud of his Vision, finally accepting it as a part of him. It made your grin stretch ear to ear, placing a hand on his bright, glowing Vision.
A hand on his heart.
Kunikuzushi glared at you when you touched his Vision, telling you to; "Get your dirty hands off!" but he never made a move to push you off, nor pulled away from your hand. There was a scowl on his face, but it didn't reach his eyes. He invited it warmly with a softened gaze, his own hand wrapping tenderly around your wrist. He fully understood your gesture.
Out of all the people in the world, only you could ever touch his heart.
You were always the first one to notice. He always stares at his Vision with eyes filled with wonder as he drifts off into a daze. He holds it so carefully with his hand and just gets lost in its powerful glow. Today was different, for you couldn't hold back your laughter.
Kunikuzushi snapped out of his little daydream when your pleasant laughs reached his ears, albeit confused as to why you were laughing. His eyes bore into your figure that was not too far away from him, sitting on the grass. He almost melted when he bear witness to your joyous, carefree expression.
"What's so funny?" The Wanderer asks, at a loss. You quickly wiped away a tear that was forming, coughing into your fist as you smiled sheepishly at him, a little embarrassed now he caught you staring.
"Oh, nothing," You stood up from the ground, patting off the grass that stuck on your pants. Walking towards him, you glance at the hand that cradled his Vision. A chuckle escaped your lips and you softly stated; "I just think you just adore that more than you let on."
His eyes trailed down where your eyes were and he tensed, immediately pulling his hand away from his chest and shooting a small glare at you. "I have no idea what you're talking about." He huffs, crossing his arms and turning to look away from you. You don't miss the redness on the tips of his ears.
You giggle, stepping back into his field of vision, a teasing smile on your lips. "Really now? You were cradling it oh-so tenderly, it was as if like it was the most precious thing you've ever seen!" You teased in a singsong voice, further annoying Kunikuzushi. (Not that he actually minds it though.)
"What are you talking about?" He sighs irritably, a brow raised at you. "You're the most precious thing I've ever seen." Those words rolled off his tongue smoothly and naturally, but he hadn't meant to say that. The was a pause between the both of you, taken aback. Before you could even react, Kunikuzushi turned away and hid his face once more with his hat from you.
You caught a glimpse of his reddening face. You couldn't help but burst out laughing, holding onto him for support. All the while, the Wanderer grumbled under his breath but willingly assisted in carrying your weight. He may be embarrassed and quite annoyed at your existence at the moment, but he can't have you falling over, can he?
"Awwww, you're so romantic Kuni," You teased, tilting his hat upwards and leaning down close to his face, earning a silent gasp from him. Goodness, he wants to wipe that smug grin off your face. "Don't worry, you're the most precious thing I've ever had the grace to love," You whispered to him, planting a kiss on his nose.
Why does he even let you get away with this? If it were someone else, they'd be dead- err, beaten to a pulp. No one would dare to get too close to him. While he's learning how to mingle with humans, he can't bear to be this close to anyone.
Except for you, of course.
Yeah, his hat couldn't help him hide his flustered face this time. Not when you're holding his cheeks in place and kissing him so passionately on the lips. Before, he reprimanded you for sudden actions like these. But now? Instead, he held onto you tightly, arms wrapped around your neck and pulling you in closer.
He can't have you letting go of him. Of his heart.
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- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛❛ If you like this a lot, consider reblogging! I'll appreciate it very very much! Don't repost and/or translate my work anywhere. ❜❜ ┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌
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*Mama Spade accidentally bumped into Silver���s dad*
Mama Spade: “Ah!! Oh I’m so sorry! I’m trying to find my son but I think I got lost…”
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*cracks knuckles* Our time has come, boiz 😎 (For anyone wondering why Lilia’s eyes are redacted, see this fic!) Figured we needed something more light-hearted after being rushed at by the semi-truck that was the recent main story update~
I briefly mention Mr. Spade, but I kept it vague since we don’t have the details on what happened to him yet!
Please note: I received multiple other Lilia + Mama Spade interaction requests; however, because those other requests are more specific than asking them to meet, I will be writing separate responses for each of those. I don't want to overload the blog with a ton of Lilia + Mama Spade content at once, so they will be spread out between other NRC Family Day interactions ^^
Family means Nobody is Left Behind or Forgotten.
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"Think nothing of it, miss." The man brushed off the bump with ease and an understanding smile. "It happens. Water under the bridge, yes?"
His voice was as smooth as a sky cleared of clouds, as sultry as midnight desires. There was a resonance to it as well, as though his words were reverberating in the annals of ancient ruins, echoing legends and legacies long since forgotten by history.
He was small yet snazzy in a black vest and dress pants embellished with golden stitching, a fancy jacket set in a dark hue of green hanging off of his shoulders. The man's long, dark hair was done up in a high ponytail, choppy and uneven bangs falling freely around his face.
If his voice was a mystery yet to be unearthed, then the man, too, was one. The exact composition of his face, and how his features were arranged, eluded her. But even with her aging sight, she could tell that he was strikingly handsome—lashes so long they batted his cheeks when he blinked, eyes like ever-shifting gemstones, and a pert, mischievous mouth.
"Oh dear." Mrs. Spade nervously fanned herself with a hand. "I'm hardly a 'miss'! I’m no spring chicken."
"After a certain point, we realize that time is something we cannot combat.” He coiled fingers against his lips. “I believe you've aged quite gracefully.”
A simple shoulder-length bob cut and homely, practicel clothing—those were the staples of her style as a single mother. She had her family to look after, and little time or energy to dress up. Yet Mrs. Spade flustered all the same.
“I-I don’t know what to say…”
The man laughed. “Apologies for steering us off-topic. Back on track, then. You said you were looking for your son?”
“Y-Yes…!” Mrs. Spade quickly rebounded, her worries returning. “He told me to meet him in Heartslabyul, but I’ve been wandering the campus for a while and haven’t passed any buildings by that name.”
The man stroked his chin. “If it’s Heartslabyul you’re looking for, you’ll need the Hall of Mirrors. It has mirror portals to each of the seven dormitories.”
“Mirror portals, imagine that!!” Shock was written all over her. "We don't have a lot of those back home.”
“Mirror portals are not always commonly accessible.” His mouth turned mirthful. “I just so happen to be heading to the Hall of Mirrors myself. My son’s waiting for me in another dorm. Seeing as we're both going to the same place, I wouldn’t mind escorting you.”
“You would?! You don’t mind…?”
“If you would have me,” he replied, his tone teasing. The man bowed melodramatically, arms gesturing down a path. “Then right this way.”
Mrs. Spade barely had any time to react before he started walking away. She hurried after him, trailing behind by a few paces. Careful not to get too close, to risk colliding with him again.
“Which dorm is your son in?” she blurted out, breathless. Not from exhaustion, but in excitement.
He cut her a sideways glance, his eyes glittering. "That would be Diasomnia. He’s a second year now, and a diligent member of the Equestrian Club."
Mrs. Spade quickened her pace. "He's an athlete? So is my Deuce. He's still a first year trying to find his footing, but he’s grown a lot in his first few months at school.”
"Deuce." He said the name oddly, almost like he had had practice reciting it. "How would you describe him?"
"He's a lot of things," Mrs. Spade confessed. She spoke unabashedly, as straight as an arrow carving an arc in the air. "He's not all that sharp, and he can be brash—but he’s also strong and kind, stubborn too. A really serious and straightforward person that means well and tries his best.”
“From the looks of it, he’s a good kid. His hard work will surely see him well in the future.”
She flushed with pride, pink as a peach. “What about your son? What’s he like?”
"Silver? He has a habit of dozing off, but he's as earnest as they come. It's that honesty of his that has made him so many friends. Even the local wildlife can't seem to keep themselves away from him.
“He’s the peacekeeper of any group he’s in, that lad. I’m so pleased that he’s able to connect with creatures from all walks of life.”
“Your Silver sounds like the kind of man Deuce would look up to. The sort of man he'd want to become."
“Does he?” The question was coy. “I think Silver would also enjoy Deuce’s company. Such a spirited, committed underclassman can keep him alert and on his toes.
“Silver already has a companion that fits that description, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind one more. The more the merrier, I say.”
“Your family must be big.”
“Afraid not. It’s only myself and Silver. We have close friends and neighbors of course, but legally speaking…” He brought his index fingers together, making them touch. “… we are one guardian and one child.”
Mrs. Spade’s heart stilled. “You’re joking.”
“Far from it." The corner of his mouth lifted into a smirk. It was not unkind, but curious. “Have I said something funny?”
“No, I was just thinking that you and I have a lot in common.” She bit her lower lip. “Deuce has his grandma, but at home it’s us two. His dad, my husband, he…” Mrs. Spade faltered.
The man inclined his head. “… You needn’t say any more. Please, don’t push yourself. Not all tales must be told to the strangers you meet along the way.”
“Y-You’re right.” She furiously shook her head. “What am I doing, making this about myself? I… I’m sorry if this brought back any painful memories for you.”
“Me? My, whatever are you concerned about me for?" There was a warmth, a fatherly tenderness, to his eyes.
“Your wife,” Mrs. Spade said weakly, “she’s no longer with you.“
“My wife?” His smile twisted into something wry. “I have no such thing. Always been a bit of a lone bat myself, but thank you for considering me."
"Oh! I... I shouldn't have assumed."
"It is you who is distressed. I should be the one more aware of your feelings."
Mrs. Spade blinked rapidly. From surprise, or to shunt back tears, she wasn't sure. "I... No, you don't need to worry about me at all! I'm fine!"
To this, the man chuckled. "I can see where Deuce must get his character from. However, you mustn't let yourself be entangled with the past.
"The past is in the past. If we keep looking behind ourselves, we will miss what waits for us in our futures." He came to a full stop, sweeping his arms forward. "Ah, and here we are."
A building with a domed roof was erected before them, guarded by massive stone walls on either side. Its door was tall, cut in the shape of a crystal pillar. One glimpse inside, and they caught the sparkle of sunlight refracting off the faces of various mirrors.
"You see? The future is right before us. No sense in dwelling on what was, only what can be."
He tapped the bottom of her chin, closing the mouth that had been hanging ajar. "Come now, let's see a smile! I wouldn't want to reunite you with your son while you've still got a frown on your face. He'd whack me a good one!"
Mrs. Spade chortled in spite of herself. "Deuce just might. He has a sharp left hook."
"I believe it. Ah, but it looks like it won't come to that. Lucky me, you're smiling again."
"Am I?!" Her hands flew to her face. The corners of her mouth had turned up, and she hadn't even noticed.
"Yes, that's what I wanted to see." The man offered a gloved hand. "... May I?"
Mrs. Spade giggled, taking it as easily as one might slip into a song. When was the last time she had felt this coquettish? So girlish, so young.
The Hall of Mirrors welcomed the pair, opening into a circle of seven portals. Each mirror trumpeted its dorm's name and iconography in its elaborate frame.
The man dropped her hand and indicated a mirror with thorns snaking up its sides, a fierce dragon guarding it. "This is where we part ways."
Mrs. Spade glanced at her route: at the mirror lined with playing cards and roses. Two spears, their points heart-shaped, crossed at the apex, and an open storybook formed the steps to the portal. Heartslabyul—the domain of the Queen of Hearts.
“Thank you for your help. I couldn’t have made it here without you, kind sir.”
“My pleasure—I thank you for the company. I hope you enjoy Family Day with Deuce.”
“Same to you and Silver.”
He nodded and turned, presenting his back to her as he made his way to Diasomnia’s mirror. She yanked herself away and stormed in the opposite direction. Just as he reached the dragon’s snout at the foot of his, and she at the cusp of a new page in the story, a single word erupted.
“Wait!!” she called out.
He craned his head to regard her. “Yes?”
Mrs. Spade clutched her fists to her chest. “Will I… Will I get to see you again?”
The shock was very slight on him, tempered by his mirth. He was used to being the one surprising, not the one being surprised, and so perhaps the silence lasted a few seconds longer than he would have liked it to.
“I really liked talking with you! I thought maybe we could do it again, and maybe Deuce and Silver could meet too.”
He took the idea, lazily rolling it between his thumb and his forefinger, considering. The confusion, the chaos, it would sprout.
“It sounds interesting,” he said mysteriously, pairing it with a shrug, “Who knows? We just might.”
And then he was gone, devoured by the dragon. The only proof that he had once been there were the ripples in the face of the mirror… and Mrs. Spade, spellbound.
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The instant she stepped into Heartslabyul, she was struck with two things: the heavy, cloying aroma of red roses, and the warm body she collided with. Mrs. Spade stumbled back on the brick path. Her vision was still spinning when a familiar, rambunctious voice called out to her.
“… om! MOM!!” Deuce happily cried, wrapping his arms around her. “You made it!! I was worried that you didn’t show up on time—you’re usually not late. I was going to head out to look for you myself!”
“I’m okay, Deuce,” she reassured him with a playful tousle of his hair. “Don’t you mind me. I got a little lost, but I had some help from a kind man. Things worked out alright in the end.”
“That was nice of him! What a good samaritan!” He paused. “Er… You didn’t tell him about me in middle school, did you? I-I swear I’ve been working really hard to brush up and be an honors student!”
“Deuce!!” his mother gasped, smacking him on the side. (Dull pain reverberated in the area; she packed quite the punch.)
“What in Twisted Wonderland makes you think I’d go around parroting that around?! No, dear—I know you, and I know you’re trying your best. Besides, that man was nice!! He’d never intrude on our family matters.“ She sighed, stars in her eyes. “Ooh, and handsome too! So smart!! A real catch..”
“Uhhh…” Deuce made a face. “Are you… feeling okay, mom? Did you eat some of the weird mushrooms growing in the garden? Dorm leader Riddle says those can have weird effects.”
She didn’t seem to hear him. Mrs. Spade continued to prattle on, “He has a boy at NRC about your age, Deuce! We should arrange for us to all get together.”
“W-Wait, hold on a minute!! I’m happy that you made a new friend, but who are you talking about?!”
His mother startled, as if waking from a dream. “Now that you mention it, I forgot to ask for his name. I do remember that he talked about his son though. Silver, was it?”
“S-Silver-senpai?! Then… you’re talking about his DAD?!” Deuce was striken, his heart pounding unnaturally fast at the revelation. Silver’s dad is mom’s sweetheart now?!
“Oh, so you do know him after all!” Mrs. Spade clapped excitedly. “What do you think? Is he anywhere near as charming as his father i—”
“Grk…!” Deuce suddenly fell onto all fours, hanging his head. Tears streaked his face, and his entire body violently shook.
His mom practically shrieked and rushed to his side, frantically shaking him. “Deuce?! Deuce, honey? Are you okay?!”
He tried at a response, but only managed a semi-comprehensible wail. “I-I-I’m jusht shooo happy fa’ you, mooom,” Deuce sniffled, harshly wiping at his tears and snot. “Y-You found th’ perfect guyyy, just like you deserved all thish tiiime…!!”
“H-Hey now! I may have been a little swept off my feet by him, but I’m not marrying the guy!! No shotgun weddings here!! Wh-Who even marries a stranger they met in a day?!”
“R-Really?”
“Really.” She eased Deuce into her with a hug, her voice dropping into a whisper. “Pinkie promise.”
He tried to laugh, but choked on his own sobs instead. Mrs. Spade rubbed an open palm along his back, soothing him.
“Haha, I’m being silly.” She ran a hand along his scalp—a facsimile of the head pats she granted him in his youth. “I’m happy too—happy that you’re such a good kid, that you care for your mama’s happiness.”
“M-Mom… Mom!!” He wailed even louder and buried himself in her arms.
There, under a halcyon blue sky and tinted in roses, mother and son wept with one another. The past, far behind them. The future, yet to exist.
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This is more or less a speculation, not a theory.
I have read some pretty decent post act 3 Arcane fanfics, yet one thing always bothers me a little bit about them. It is an obvious thing that Viktor will return to Zaun at some point, like this is inevitable. The same goes to his falling out with Jayce. Many people have created some cool scenarios on how it will happen, and i appreciate every single one of them.
With that said, i really cannot imagine Viktor getting banished as an event that starts it all. For a simple reason.
I don't think Viktor would have been bitter about it.
With the way he acts in the last episode of season 1, i believe that he'd think it was deserved. The thing he could be charged for would be an illegal experimentation and the manslaughter of Sky Young. Things he feels so guilty about he tried to off himself. He has very little time left, and if the trial is a necessary procedure, he'd probably accept it. Would he be upset? Of course, but i don't think he would even try to put an effort to avoid it, once people find out. And at the peak of panic in Piltover after Jinx's attack, the whatever the hell is left off the council would try to ensure that there is still at least a renmant of government control. Just like in act 1, that was literally the reason why Enforcers were trying to arrest 4 kids.
If anything, i think it would be Jayce who'd be the most desperate in this situation. "He'd be mad at Viktor for killing an innocent person" he literally did the same thing (if you think about it, Jayce have killed so much more people besides that kid, we just don't discuss it because in the show they are presented as scary monsters, not human beings that got drugged the hell up and now have their entire ripcage obligarated. But y'know, that's the point of this scene). "What about Viktor's illegal experimentation?" What Jayce did with Vi was also kinda illegal? I mean, he is a councilor, he can do whatever the fuck he wants ig, but before hand it was clear that other councilors would not want that to happen.
I imagine that Jayce would do anything in his power to cancel this trial. Viktor is his best friend, person who he has such a close bond to. And while what he did was wrong, he isn't much better. Yet it is Viktor, his dying friend, who is punished.
I can see Viktor actually being like: it's okay Jayce, it needs to happen, i will be okay (he's lying but trying).
So yeah i don't think that Viktor being banished to Zaun would be a death blow to their relationship.
Buuuuut you know what would probably make more sense (at least to me :3)?
Viktor's punishment being working on hextech weapons against Zaun.
Think about it. Jayce in an act of desperation convinces other councilors that as a co-founder of Hextech Viktor would be a viable asset in designing weapons that would "protect" Piltover against Zaun.
Well wouldn't that make Viktor absolutely fucking furious. Viktor may have ****kinda**** accepted his death but making him work AGAINST the city he spend his entire life wishing to improve and protect? Over his dead body, he'd rather be eaten alive by rats in Undercity alleys than do such a thing.
It works for me much better because it keeps Jayce's character much more consistent. Like, it's understandable why would he do it (he doesn't want his friend to die) but also highlights his change in priorities after season 1. Like, he told Silco that Undercity doesn't stand a chance against Piltover, and well, one rocket proved hin wrong. Now there are dead people in Piltover. I think he'd be more radical, more bold, maybe even less forgiving and 100% stressed af.
Does he want to keep Viktor safe? Yes. But does he find building weapons is now necessary when they are at war? Also yes. And considering the "I'M from the Undercity" scene he also tends to forget that Viktor is not, in fact, Piltovan, that as much as he loves Jayce, he does not associate with Piltover society. He is from Zaun, it is an important part of his indentity. Something that Jayce keeps neglecting.
It also doesn't change the fact that he still feels guilty over the death of that ONE child. Not the countless men in chemtanks, that are as much victims of Undercity's terrible state as Viktor is really. I think that when he'd make a decisions "a necessary decisions to keep them saved" he'd think about them, scary, crazy monsters with blades. Not that one kid. Kid feels so much more personal, people who attack them-not.
I'm not saying that is how the conflict in season 2 will look like, nuh-uh, it's just me making some fanfiction prompts lmao.
Anything could happened since them. Viktor trying to sabotage their work which would end up in an explosive and dramatic break up once Jayce finds out? Yep, i can see that. Add some fire and leave Viktor crying on concrete floor, now we have some nice parallels. But i can also see Viktor fucking off right there and there, or other stuff i dunno.
So yeah i have fanfic ideas.
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getvalentined · 2 months
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What’s your opinions of the various ffvii compilation games?
Oh I am a huge proponent of the Compilation as a whole; I know that opinion is rare for someone who's been in the fandom from the beginning, but I'm an insufferable lore gremlin and I just eat up everything the series has to offer. I have three different copies of Advent Children (the original on DVD, ACC on DVD, and ACC on blu-ray) and even still watch Last Order on occasion.
The series itself is really fascinating and staggeringly consistent (I've talked about how the implied timeline of the Jenova Project as presented in-game is so consistent that it matches up with real-world human gestational science), with the exception of the FF7Re series—which I can deal with, since it's canonically on a different timeline and therefore any retcons there are literal in-universe retcons, which is pretty brilliant.
That said, I'mma put ratings for the pieces of the Compilation individually under a cut!
OG FF7: 9/10. would be 10/10 if the English localization were better. Where it all started, still one of my favorite games of all time.
Advent Children (+Complete): 8/10. Not a game, but part of the Compilation! Anyone who says the plot makes no sense doesn't realize that they're watching a sequel that relies very heavily on people understanding the history and characterization of every single character shown.
Last Order: 6.5/10. Also not a game, also part of the Compilation. Love that this is implied to literally be Tseng's coverup of what happened with Zack, presented in anime form. Makes no sense in multiple places as a result, but if you know that's what it is then you can 100% see why it's portrayed that way! Honestly I really enjoyed it and wish more people would appreciate it for what it is.
Dirge of Cerberus: 7/10. The gameplay kinda sucks but honestly the storyline is super good—or it would be, if the entire fucking prologue hadn't been cut from any release outside Japan, thereby leaving the entire issue with DeepGround completely unexplained to all other audiences. Once you know what is going on, the storyline here is fantastic, and I've never really forgiven SE for not releasing the rest of it. I love that Dirge fills in the lore for Vincent that was cut when he was relegated to "optional" in the OG, and that it also helps to clarify why Midgar could have 9 functional mako reactors while every other reactor in the world is either sputtering to nothing or exploding. (It's Omega. Midgar is built over Omega. It's the place where all lines of the Lifestream converge so that Omega can draw it all in and carry it away at the end of the world, and Shinra never discovered that's why the mako well there is so expansive. I love good worldbuilding, and Dirge is a beautiful example of that.)
Before Crisis: N/A. I want this game so bad man where is it give it to meeeee. Honestly tho I've watched playthroughs and read scripts where available, and while I don't think it looks like much fun from a modern gameplay perspective, I have huge respect for it as far as development goes. This is one of the first really mainstream mobile games ever made, it was made for flip phones, and it's super extensive! Also it gave me Veld, who is one half of my favorite ship ever, which means it automatically gets a 7/10 even if I've never played it.
Crisis Core (+Reunion): 9/10. As fun to play as the OG. When I first played this on PSP over a decade ago, it hit me with such an intense feeling of nostalgia that it almost took me off my feet. In spite of the dramatic difference between game mechanics in CC versus the OG, it felt exactly like playing the OG again, and that feeling never really left. Humanized Sephiroth in a beautiful way that pissed off a bunch of fanboys and made me fall in love with him all over again. Also introduced my second favorite FF7 character ever, Genesis, who is one half of one of my core FF7 ships, so A+ on that too!
FF7 Remake (+InterMISSION): 8/10. Had a lot of fun with this one, and it's beautiful, but it doesn't have a lot of replayability in my experience, which is a shame. Would have been 6 or 7/10 if not for InterMISSION, which was a fucking delight.
FF7 First SOLDIER: 6/10. This applies to both the Battle Royale and the title in Ever Crisis. I am not a fan of Glenn & Co. but I love 14 year old Sephiroth and really appreciate that extension of lore and worldbuilding, so it's a decent balance. I love that the opening cutscene for the battle royale literally filled a 20+ year old plot hole in under two minutes.
FF7 Rebirth: 9.5/10. The only things that could make me like this game more would be if Vincent were playable (although I understand why he's not and, in spite of him being my favorite fictional character ever, I agree with this decision), and fewer required minigames. Just cut like one or two. Or fix the controls, maybe. Glide de Chocobo is even more broken now that it's been patched.
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What was it exactly that ruined RWBY after volume 3? Was it the death of the author or the creators simply lost touch with their work?
I think I talked about the changes and issues within the narrative before, so I'll just stick to the overall problems with the shift from V3 to V4.
Honestly? The author's passing might have an impact, but it shouldn't have this level of impact.
It's easy to attribute all the success to Monty and just pretend the show was doomed without him. Then why did V3 still come out extremely good? Clearly, there was still talent here - Dillon Goo carried V3 fights on his back, and the story continued - nothing instantly fell apart.
And yet the show did fall apart.
So, what happened?
Were they blindsided by Monty's passing? Were they too inexperienced? Did the hard shift in direction destroy the show's setting? How about the employee burnout?
In reality, I think it's a combination of all of those and more.
They were caught off-guard.
No matter how big Monty's actual role was, people at RT are still human beings.
Death of a friend can turn one's life upside down and fast - understandably, the company would struggle to continue after losing someone so integral to their identity back then.
The way Volume 4 is structured instantly shows that the rest of the staff got blindsided by having to continue the show - V4 is designed to spin its wheels, buying them time while they try to figure out what to do. It's averse to any characterization for the lead four or any change in status quo, and even the lore bits we DO get during V4 are very vague (because the showrunners have no idea what to do).
You can literally imagine them all running around behind the scenes frantically trying to see how they can pick up from where v3 left off and delaying, delaying, delaying.
The issue, however, is that at some point, that kind of stalling becomes their whole MO rather than a temporary thing.
The show effectively stalls any sort of payoff for anything from the first three volumes, shying away from addressing anything within its original identity.
After a while, it's not like they didn't have time to figure things out or turn things around yet - it's that they decided this stalling issue works fine as-is - even as far as V9.
The relationships never quite progress - Blake and Yang have been in limbo since V3, for example.
The characters never progress or regress - how many times did the show "hint" at Ruby's distress for years, promise Blake's growth, or have Yang on the verge of some big moment of self-reflection?
It's not even JUST that it shifted away from its original identity as a contemporary tech-fantasy show - while it absolutely DID do that, the issue is that the showrunners have no idea what shape the show's identity OR aesthetic should take OR how to do it.
The show just stalls because it works even if viewers start to dwindle, and they don't have to do anything that would "alienate" people (Like, let's say, addressing the elephant in the room that is Yang and Blake).
A staggering amount of effort is made to NOT progress things and to have characters go through all these locations without really changing at all.
Things happen but not really.
What did Ruby's journey from Patch to Mistral accomplish for her as a character? What did Blake's journey to Menagerie accomplish? How about Yang's journey to find her offscreen bandit mother? How about Weiss getting taken back by her father?
Nothing.
What did the conflict in Atlas accomplish? Were characters affected or changed in any way? Did Weiss finally have her story arc? Did Ruby face herself?
Nothing.
You could literally change up the end of V3 with them dropping into the future of Vacuo and you wouldn't miss a single story beat.
We don't know MORE about the world OR the characters, really - the dumb Brother Gods plotline revelations can be summed up in half an episode.
Mistral's fate, Vale's fate, Atlas falling? That can be done offscreen - it's not like the show hasn't already offscreened far more important things
Of course, the show DIDN'T just skip that padding so it still has to get the major story beats in as everyone moves through locations.
But those story beats happen in the weirdest way possible.
Why?
There is ego involved, yes.
Miles didn't have to add up the brother gods subplot he had dreamt up one day.
Miles didn't have to keep pushing Jaune into the front of the show at the cost of the actual leads.
It's no secret that the show would always work this way where one of the people involved would posit an idea of how they think something could be cool if it happened - Monty was pretty notable for wanting to have Raven fight Team JNPR in the Fall of Beacon for example, and he refused to elaborate.
Is it so surprising someone like Miles or Kerry would want to "add their own touch"? So what if those ideas clashed with literally everything in the setting before - be it narratively or aesthetically?
But there was something else that changed.
Before V4 the people involved would come up with something and then work it into the plot. While imperfect, there was a possibility of a somewhat healthy dynamic where, with, likely, actual pushback between those involved - Monty never did get his "Raven fights everyone" scene after all, no matter how cool it could have been.
After V3 that dynamic was gone, obviously.
The creative element of the show fell apart, but Miles and co seemed to keep going like nothing happened - and at some point rather than a bunch of people discussing possible paths for the show, it turned into a situation where Miles or someone else would propose an idea and then it would happen.
As the show grew in scope so did the necessity for actually making those desired elements fit into the story. It was no longer about "hey we can't really justify Raven randomly showing up and fighting team JNPR" - there were Kingdoms and multiple locations and dozens of characters involved now.
They just lost their friend who proposed the show in the first place, they struggled to make the show continue and they were clearly inexperienced running something as big as this.
Yet instead of growing, learning, or hiring people, they seem to have been content with just dumping what Miles wanted into the show without worrying about narrative structure, set-ups, payoffs, characterization, and so on.
The weird medieval aesthetic of various locations no longer fits the contemporary modern setting of the first three Volumes? So what.
The magicky ridiculous cheese of brother gods was the polar opposite of a more grounded setting before it? So what.
The decision to not show actual character progression and growth that could be Yang's recovery arc because "it was boring"? This would make any writer or college professor scream because that's now how you characterization, that's not how you do pay off or ANYTHING, but yet again -so what?
Why?
They were unwilling to learn and to accept critique.
Listening to staff commentary for the show (even before Monty's passing) there's one thought that would persist - "Wow, they sure sound content and prideful with not knowing their things and just going with the flow."
RT drank their own Kool-Aid - "Oh we are just a small indie group of friends - look how scuffed our production and decision-making is."
It was impossible not to notice back then - people would point that out all the time.
Yet instead of improving and changing and learning and, honestly, growing up, Miles or someone else would just throw some backhanded remark and continue.
A group of amateur film-makers can grow and develop, but RT were so proud of their status as being this industry underdog where it's just a group of friends(despite that not being the case for YEARS at that point), that they were unwilling to make necessary changes in their work culture, approach or, well, anything.
I keep coming back to Miles watching Land of Lustrous and going "Oh, I don't get it." and that's it - there's no self-betterment or willingness to "get it" showcased and that's emblematic of RT culture as a whole.
Whether there was talent in the company (there was), it wouldn't matter if people at the top would stomp their feet and refuse to learn or improve. Even V9 staff had quite a few talented animators involved - did not help.
They were too caught up in the "youtube machinima bro culture" RT's size had long since grown out of.
They were "a bunch of friends, just a bunch of indie amateur people creating content", and they were proud of it and of how scuffed everything was.
So what if at that scale of the company, the culture would end up creating genuine issues with power dynamics, harassment, over-work, inefficient production, employee burnout, resource wasting, and so on?
The working conditions drove away most of the talent they had left over the course of next few years.
(Un)Surprisingly being stuck in a frathouse mentality lasting decades is a really good motivator for actual talented people within the company to quit and work elsewhere. Who would have thought?
One logical path forward would be to hire actual industry professionals, right? They could have created a writer's room, hired management experts, a proper HR department, hired sensitivity readers, outsourced researching various topics, etc, right? Miles and Co could keep pretending to be auteurs while competent people would get paid to do what needs to be done and course-correct them.
Easy, right?
Well.
They were unwilling to hire professionals.
Reminder that it took RT till around Atlas arc to have anything resembling a writers' room, they still refused to hire actual sensitivity readers to ensure they don't end up writing something blatantly ableist or just outright all-around problematic.
In the cases where professionals were involved, the people in charge just ignored all suggestions (otherwise Volume 8 and 9 would have been stopped at brainstorming phase and changed - I refuse to believe no one took a look at it and said "this will crash harder than Genlock Season Two")
I have no doubts people at the core of RT wanted to honor their friend's legacy and make right by them, but...
If "everything was fine" and who they were was fine and no critique mattered then why change anything or listen to outside voices?
And thus they continued.
Overall
It's a mix of variety of issues, really. It's actually kind of fascinating RT managed to have so many things go wrong.
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hadakzu · 5 months
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Hawks x reader comfort (for parentification)
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I don't know how to summarize this, I'm just exposing myself here lmaooo.
Giving a big warm hug to anyone who has had to deal with anything like this!❤️🫂❤️🫂 You're amazing and I hope you're doing okay!💖💕
Otherwise gn, but the reader is called a mom/ second mother of the family.
Content warnings:
parentification, looking after younger siblings, neglect and emotional abuse, mention of being beaten (keigos past), bit of suicidal talk, fighting between parents (mostly just verbal, but ig could be read as more), mommy daddy issues, slightly hinting of substance use (but it's not focused on), small talk of moving a lot, fear of others safety (?), feeling of being alone, Keigo's parents saying he'd better off.
(Please let me know if I missed anything, I try to add if I notice more)
"It's just... not fair. I was a child too.. so why did it feel like I was the only reasonable adult in there.."
You had your arms wrapped to his sides, using his chest as a pillow as you vented about your day. Having your mother visit brought back various of emotions and thoughts. Still feeling fresh like a unhealed cut. Trying to heal from it was still hard. Accepting the truth making you just feel like an ungrateful brat, because it wasn't really that bad, even though it definitely felt like it.. What right did you have to feel this hurt? It could've been far worse..
Thank god you had Hawks here by your side. His hand on the back of your head, feeling your hair, softly playing with it as he listened to your chain of thoughts. Letting you talk, while reassuring you weren't being unreasonable to feel like this at all. Listening you speak and explain it all, made him also feel upset and sad for you and your younger self past. Absent with the carefree joy you should have had. He could relate to that feeling, even if he couldn't totally understand your path. Growing up too fast was something he could totally understand, it wasn't easy or fun. It quite honestly sucked.
"It's like they act like It's normal, to have been called a mom by my younger sibling.. Like it's fun or normal how they joke about it so lightly, saying I have always just been the more responsible and caring one... the second mother of the family... Saying it came naturally, when really I had no choice but to become like one. Everytime I visit or see them, there's not a single time she wouldn't call me that, like it's supposed to be a compliment. When really it just reminds me of the pain.. reminding I'm supposed to hide myself and be more independent "
He could hear the underlying anger in your voice, even though you talked about it remotely calm, it was clear you felt hurt by it all. Feeling like you had been left to carry all the burden of your family, trying to keep it together so it wouldn't fall. Afraid of what would happen if you weren't strong enough. Fighting alone for so long, while trying to ensure your siblings would feel more loved, to make sure they had someone with free of judge. Experience unconditional love from your part.
Hawks didn't have any siblings of his own, it had always been just him alone, so it felt a bit foreign for him, hearing about a family as large as yours. It was new, house full of kids in many ages. But he was curious of what it was like, trying to imagine how it would feel to have a younger sibling.. or an older one too. Trying to understand how different life would look like from your point of view. Hearing you describe growing up with younger siblings in dysfunctional family, how it had been both a curse and a blessing at the same time, the coin always has two sides afterall.
At least you didn't have to deal with the bullshit completely alone, even though it had been mostly you caring for them all. Surrounded by many, it was chaos as it own, not to mention everything else that came along..
Remembering the time before it all started, or before you had understood something was wrong.. When you were somewhat free of that load.. But had life really been easier before stepping into that boat? Trying to keep it afloat while surrounded by waves of a storm.
Not being taken seriously when you had felt hurt, having someone laugh while tears fell down your shirt, people getting angry when you were trying your best. Crying under the covers, hiding from the world, wishing you had never ever been, you weren't meant to live in here. Praying for god, could you to be taken away from this place. Not because it'd be easier for you, but because you didn't want to be a burden, a disappointment.. Feeling as they would have been better off, if you weren't there to just make mistakes a lot... You were just a kid, how could you have known any better, if they never taught you how? Just expected to figure it out in your own little head, struggling with the quilt of even being here.
Seeing your younger siblings grow up, you didn't want them to go down the same path, they deserved more than that. So you stepped up, not trusting your parents wouldn't also mess them up.
Who would have thought being useful for your parents, especially to your mother, would make it easier to deal with that quilt. Suddenly being praised for being so mature of your age, always helping around, it felt good to be needed, to be noticed, praised. Maybe you had finally earned their love, being seen as human with a voice and real thoughts, one of the wise ones. You weren't being a trouble anymore, hiding your struggles, hiding your pain. You just wished you wouldn't feel anymore hurt by pushing those away. You were now the therapist, the peacemaker of the family. It couldn't be the other way around, surely helping them out was your job.
He rubbed your back, thinking how much burden you must have had, how hard it must have felt. How hurt you must have been, so that pushing your needs away felt easier than bringing them to the surface for someone else to see, for someone to hear. Unable to deal with the feeling of not being taken seriously.
He too, had learned to mirror his value on what he could offer for others. Being called names, the words of being better off not only in his head, when he was being just a kid, born in a family not understanding or capable of meeting his needs. It had been tough, carefully tip toying around avoiding for getting beaten up, by the man supposed to be his dad.. Trying to see life beyond those doors, Keigo could barely play around. Having to sit quietly, lucky if he got to watch the heroes on the screen.
After he and his mother ended up on the streets, his wings were only thing noticed about him. What he could do, what they could be used. Kid trying to take care for them both, trying to stay strong. Do the best he could from what he knew, having to put on these adult shoes.
Being taken in by the commision, it was all about creating Hawks, forgetting Keigo to be completely gone. It was always all about saving others, the burden of being good enough for others, being worthy of living this life, doing it for someone else, proving his worth for himself.
He could understand his own way, also being parentified kid himself. Not neccesarily your exact experience itself, your pasts were very different in many ways, but the feelings from it were close ones, something he had felt. Even if you two had come to feel it from different ends. Both of you had had to figure out lot of things by yourselves, do things not appropriate for your age. Trying to learn how to take time for your own mental health, to not break down under all the stress.
It was hard, to be constantly on the run, always aware of things, ready to instantly swoop in. It was exhausting, losing yourself for others, being the one keeping them on the surface. While your own boat was slowly sinking down. Feeling the tension in your chest tightening from all the pressure of being under the cold sea. Trying to catch a breathe, while being pushed further down by the waves merciless.
Do this, do that, help with this and that.
"You are right, it's not fair. No kid should have to go through that, to feel that kind of burden in their back. You deserved to be a child too."
His voice sounded sad, thinking of younger you.. and thinking bit of Keigo too. He hadn't had the chance to fully take a seat and process what a roller coaster of a life he had had. He knew it wasn't exactly right what he had had to go through, but always tried to focus on the good. Although guilt was something that was whispering in the back of his head... Leaving his mother.. feeling he failed.. Even when he had been young, even when he really didn't have a choice. He still felt like he failed to save her, leaving only family he had left.. He wished he could have done more, part of him missed her, yearning to know her.
He was the son, but he still felt somewhat quilty for the kind of life she had had, thinking if he could have done more than that.
His mind wandering little to his childhood as you told your story, you made him think a lot more of his own origin... or more like he started to feel more for his younger self too. He had thought about it a lot, but he felt somehow distant from his own past.. from that small Keigo he had once been.
Listening your story, thinking how fucked up it was for a child to deal with these things. It finally clicking in his head how bad it had actually been, how badly it could affect persons mental health. How it still affected him.
He saw your past still haunting your mind too.
"I- I just feel bad... for feeling this hurt knowing it wasn't easy for her either.. She needed someone to help around, she couldn't have done it alone.. it shouldn't be her that I'm even mad at. ..even if she wasn't always the best either.."
He kissed the top of your head, caressing your back while listening your words. Taking in what you needed to say, letting out the frustration you had felt. Noticing from your words, how you were carrying somewhat similar quilt for himself, about something out of your control, something that wasn't your fault. Feeling defensive for her behalf, even at times you shouldn't have had. He had to say something about that, making sure you wouldn't blame it all on yourself, validating your feelings of being hurt.
"You have every right to feel this hurt, don't blame it on yourself. Her actions are her own responsibility, not yours. No matter how hard it is, parents shouldn't neglect their childs emotional needs. It's not the child's job to be the one relied on either, it should always be the parents job. ..and even if you can understand why it happened.. it doesn't make it any more right."
You knew he was right, you really did, but it still felt like you were betraying her by admitting to something like that... sure you had known how your younger siblings had been neglected in ways, not been understood and blamed for being just kids.. Growing up in unstable home, of course they would act out. But to say that about yourself.. made you just feel uncomfortable, thinking you got the easy part in all that, still feeling little defensive for her behalf.
"..yeah, I know.."
You agreed for sure, but still sounding little hesitant of your words. You couldn't shake the feeling of sympahty for her, she wasn't perfect, neither were you.. you could have also done more.. Even though you felt angry for her about many things too, it wasn't as simple.
"It's not her that I'm really even that mad at though... o-or well about some things yes... but it wouldn't have been that bad if he would have taken some of that load of her back..! You know... do the things parent is supposed to do. It should be obvious, not something a child should have to point out... "
He could hear the frustration in your voice grow, this was clearly something you felt resentment about. One of the few topics that actually got you heated up, even to the point of feeling actual anger, and he understood completely. You had told him bits about it here and there, like when you had felt frustrated to visit your family again, only to have your father to ditch you his chores to you like usual. How almost your whole childhood you had had to fill in his role, having a father not participating much, avoiding his tasks as a dad, leaving it to you and your mother to handle.
Why should have he had to worry about a thing? You were better at watching after them anyways, he was already tired enough, having fun out there. What a burden to have to sleep after that all day. It just wasn't fair.
"I was nine, when I started to look after my little brother... Trying to sooth him down when he cried.. Sometimes waking up at nights for that, wanting my mom to sleep more for a change too. I was the one mostly taking care of him when my mother wasn't around.. I don't understand how he could just ignore a baby's crying? Too 'busy' of doing something else, never actually helping out, but still having time to complain about insignificant things, being a petty child himself."
You could remember the countless days arguing with your father about basic things, laughing out of frustration with how absurd it had felt. Having to parent a grown ass man, defending your mother with the last of energy you had.
Trying to bring some kind of sense into this chaos, not letting the bullshit of your parents just slip out. Why should a kid have to understand how to behave, if the adults in this house never learned to do it either? Why should the kids be held more accountable about small things, if the parents couldn't admit their mistakes or apologizes themselves either.
Watching your siblings grow while new ones were born. Feeling the anxiety in your chest grow, you loved your siblings a lot, but sometimes it felt more of a burden than not.
"It... hurt. Watching it just get worse over the years, protecting them from all the mean words.. Having to lecture my own parents how to behave, how to care, what not to say to a little kid. The amount of times I would have to step up, be the more grown up.."
You sounded somewhat hesitant to talk about it, realizing just how absurd it sounded when saying it out loud. You were so used to it being the norm, forgetting just how messed up it had been at times.
"I knew it wasn't right.. I mean the way they raised us most of the time.. I read many articles of it to make sure I wasn't just imagining it myself, being overly dramatic like they had said. Trying to learn how to parent my siblings myself instead.. While trying to teach my parents to be more consider of their emotional state."
He felt sad for you and your younger siblings too, hearing you tell stories of moments where you guys weren't treated right.
Having been child who had had to listen all sorts of things coming from his parents mouth, it hurt to imagine others having to experience something similar in that regard. Knowing words would be something that would last, but glad at least someone had their back. Even though it was unfair, you shouldn't have had to be the first one they would turn. Still he couldn't help but admire your strenght, how you would go beyond your way to ensure your siblings felt more cared and safe. Go between fights, listen to their thoughts, taking into consiridation that they were still young and small. Knowing they couldn't understand everything, but explaining them about things more calm. Not yelling at them if they didn't know any better, but definitely having a long talk with the one that did.
Even though he admired that about you a lot, it still pained him to know you even had to think or worry about things like that. You shouldn't have had to carry that heavy of a bag with you, it was never meant for you, yet it was forced on you. He made a mental note to you make sure you wouldn't have to go through something like that again, to hold your struggles inside, to carry the world on your back alone. When he and his wings were right here, ready to lift some of that heaviness off your chest.
"There um.. was time my parents were fighting a lot.. there uh- was a lot going on in general.. My dad did some questionable things.. I knew way too many things about their relationship, involved in stuff I shouldn't have had... Back then I also often had to watch after my siblings whole days and sometimes even at nights.. making sure they ate, trying to comfort them when they were feeling unsure and scared.. They were such a anxious kids, like we all were living in unstable home like that. Having to move around a lot, never knowing when another big fight would unfold.. I always read them a good night stories when I could, trying to make the time between just as kids more fun. Hugging them at night when being asked when would they be back... Not knowing the answer for that, while wondering the same in my head. Reassuring them it would be okay, patiently singing to them until they would fall asleep.. Then later crying myself to sleep too.. They just deserved so much more, I wish I could have given more.."
That sounded exhausting and sad, having to take care of them that long while having no idea when your parents would be back. Having to be the rock they could lean on, trying to be stable for them when your parents couldn't. What also spoke volume of your parents effect on you guys, was when you told him despite it being hard, it was much more peacfull when they weren't around. Seeing how your siblings were also smiling more, not having to be yelled at crying too long. It just broke your heart, thinking why it couldn't be like that even when they were there too. How hard could it be to be a decent for your own young kids.
Your heart wasn't only one to break, when he heard you speak how hard it had been for them, but never totally focusing on how you had felt. Like it was automatic reaction you did, to shift the spotline of your pain on someone who had gone through 'worse.'
It didn't go unnoticed by him.
You also told him how you checked up on your mom, feeling uneasy of not knowing what was happening between them. You were too used to being on top of everything, listening to every word, trying to create clear picture of things. You know.. just in case it started to sound like you should have to hop in between, often hoping he would honestly just leave.. Feeling he brought more hurt than good, seeing his face and just wanting to scream at it loud.
Hawks knew how tiring it could be, to try to analyze every little thing, to make sure you didn't miss anything. To be hyper aware of everything, because well.. it was his job sure, but also something he had learned from a very young, living in a shithole of a home.
Thinking himself how you being responsible of so many, must have felt the world would be ending if you couldn't keep doing what was expected of you. Being under pressure at all times, having your mind run miles. How old had you been again..? Nine when the parentification had slowly started... not that it had been too great before that either, and going on pretty much until you had eventually had to move out?
Who had been taking care of you?
Ask you, how you were too?
On top of that you had to also deal with school, trying live life outside home too. It was hard, worried you'd be needed when you werent around.. Anxiety of being unaware, hoping your siblings knew they were still cared. Actually having to skip school over that fear too, fearing of leaving them there alone. Also staying home when offering to help your parents with something that again, shouldn't have been your job.. but why would they refuse, you were being helpful.
Still often feeling like you should have done more, done better job at protecting them from all the internal war. Was there something you had missed..? Thinking if you could have done something more early on... what if this was somehow your fault..?
"..did you, have anyone to look after you? To.. check up on how you were feeling.. how you were holding up in the middle of all that? Supporting you through the storms too?"
He was quite sure he already knew the answer for that, the way he had seen you act, he wished it didn't have to be like that. Having this idea in your head, that you were supposed to handle it all by yourself, having had hard time to lean on him first too, open up when you had felt doomed. From the sounds of your words and knowing more of your past, it sounded like you had been alone carrying everyone else, while suffering in silence all by yourself. It pained him to hear, but your silence to his question only confirmed it. You didn't want to say it out loud. Admit of feeling so alone and lost, having to navigate through everything without help. While still trying to comfort and convince yourself with the thought, that it wasn't really that bad, that it could have been far worse.
"Well I'm here now. I'm sorry you had to go through all that, it never should have been your responsibility to take care of them.. You were just kid trying to survive and keep peace in the house, that takes a lot.. It's a lot for anyone but especially a child. You did incredible considering what tools you got. It wasn't your fault or up to you to fix that, but I know for sure your siblings are grateful for you just having been there, you're so sweet and thoughtful. I see the love and care whenever you talk about them, and I know they can feel it as well. I kinda wish I had someone like you when I grew up, just having someone to lean on can do a lot."
His words and sweet gestures honestly meant a lot, the words about your siblings hitting pretty hard, assuring you that you had done more than enough. That all your work wasn't unseen, it had made bigger impact that you'd let yourself believe.
He held you in his arms, covering your form under his soft feathers, feeling more protective of you after all he had heard, keeping you safe in his embrace. Knowing this wasn't even half of the story, just a scratch on the surface you had shown. Trusting him enough to share part of your path, wanting him to see all your different sides, even if it was uncomfortable at first.
"I hope now I can be someone you can lean on too, you shouldn't have to go through everything alone.. You deserve to be taken care of too, you don't have to suffer alone anymore. It's okay to admit being hurt. You don't always have to act strong, even though I know you are, but you don't have to be that all of the time. I'm here now. I got your back like I know you got mine, no more of that one sided caring, alright? It should always go both ways with the people you're close. I want to be someone close to you, and with your thoughts and feelings too. Those deserve to be heard also."
Moment of silence as you let those words sink in, his embrace tightening to feel you more close, to emphasize his words. Letting you know it was okay to express your feelings too, he would never just dismiss them like some others had. Showing you, you weren't left alone. Not when he was around.
"And he, honestly sounds like an ass.. he should have done more than that, he was a parent too, an adult. I don't know everything he has done, but I can still say it was unfair and unjustified the things he did and the things he didn't do. I'm sorry he put you through that. You deserved better than that."
When he called him an ass, it was so sudden you couldn't help but let out a bitter laugh. It came out of nowhere, but it honestly felt good to have someone say that too, oddly satisfying of seeing someone call him out on his crap too, not just brushing it off. Showing how he was pissed off for your behalf, maybe it was okay for you to feel like that as well.. To still be angry for things, that before this, had gone unheard for years.
Caressing your face as he looked at you fondly, with mix of sadness and admiration in his eyes. He felt honored to feel this close to you, to be let on something this huge. Thats how it definetely felt at least, and you were tired of pretending like it didn't. It had been hard and it still hurt a lot.
You got the feeling he understood some aspects of it himself, knowing how you felt. Propably being parentified kid himself.. thats how you felt at least, you could sense it in him, like you were wearing his sensitive wings instead.
You were right of course, keeping you close while thinking your past. Maybe someday he would open about his too, knowing you would care and not judge him, hoping you had some of that unconditional love left for him too.. for Keigo. He sure as hell had that for you, it only growing every day spend with you.
He would be here for you.
"Thank you Hawks. That honestly means a lot.. I'm.. glad you are here."
A smile appeared on his face. Gently bringing a finger under your chin, slowly raising your head so your eyes met his, cherising your beautifull face. Making sure you felt seen. He could still sense the lingering uncertainity on your face, after bringing all this to the surface, from the cold sea.
He leaned in to a soft kiss, making sure you felt nothing but warm and cared. Simmering down those huge waves, feeling more calm and safe. You didn't have to sail through the storms alone, now he would help you navigate through them with you, like the boat was his own.
Afterall you two were sailing in it together from now on.
"I'm glad I'm here too"
(I don't know if this turned out exactly the way I wanted but it's okayy🙏 I'll probably write another one with this topic but bit differently at some point)
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mustainegf · 6 days
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you're a literal poet in your mustaine smuts omg. so i thought i'd request a rough dave smut with angst tone, perhaps in the middle of a fight he or reader just grabs the other and kiss em ✨️angrily✨️ or push them onto the bed and just like "yolo im fucking the shit outta you". then at the end of the angry sex they just cuddle and whisper "sorry"'s in eachother's ears with some tears and maybe aftercare. IDK WHY THIS REQ IS REALLY LONG IM SORRY
I love how you guys can tell Dave is my favourite to write for LMAO I love you nonnie and this request is so scrumptious!?! Omg?!
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As Dave and I found ourselves trapped in yet another heated debate about his relentless work schedule, frustration bubbled within me like a relentless tide.
“You're always working, Dave. We never have time for each other anymore," I lamented, my voice tinged with sadness and resentment.
He retaliated with excuses, his words landing like blows, each one stinging more than the last. "I have to work, you know that. It's not like I want to spend all my time in the studio," he argued, his tone defensive.
Back and forth we went, our voices rising and falling like waves crashing against the shore.
But then, in the midst of our tumultuous exchange, Dave suddenly fell silent. His piercing gaze locked onto mine, holding me captive in its intensity.
And before I could comprehend what was happening, he reached out, his hands cupping my face with a tenderness that caught me off guard.
In that moment, the weight of our argument faded as his lips found mine in a desperate kiss.
It was as if he had been starving for my touch, and I was his sole source of sustenance.
He devoured me, kissing me with a passion that left me breathless. And then, just when I thought he would never stop, he pulled away, his eyes burning with need.
Fuck, Whyd he have to be so hot when he was angry?
Dave scooped me up quickly, tossing me onto the bed, his eyes still locked onto me.
He pounced, climbing over me as he lips found mine again. I couldn't help but cup his cheeks, fighting my lips with his.
"Let me show you how much I care, if you don't believe me." he growled angrily, nipping at my neck.
"Dave, I-'" I started, but he cut me off, tearing my shirt off. "Hush, just relax."
And then it hit me-this was the way Dave was expressing his love for me. He didn't say the words, but his actions spoke volumes.
As he stripped me down, I realized he was doing this to prove that I mattered to him. To make me understand that despite his busy schedule, I was his top priority.
That he was willing to put everything else aside for me. The realization filled me with warmth, and I let go of all the anger and hurt that had been building inside me.
His thick brows furrowed with determination as he stripped me bare, leaving me on display for him.
He tugged off his shirt, god Iloved his body. He wasn't skinny, nor was he heavy. He was strong, with somewhat of a dadbod. So sexy.
He crawled up my body and took my mouth roughly, swallowing my moan. Fuck, this man was gonna give me the best orgasm ever. "So beautiful," he muttered, trailing his fingers over my chest.
"Let me show you just how much." His kisses were like fire. Hard, intense, and with such passion. I knew it was because of how frustrated he was, but I didn't care. "Just how much I love you." he murmured.
Dave wasted no time in peeling off his sweats and boxers, and I could see just how desperate he was.
His erection stood proudly from his hips, reaching for me. My heart raced as I spread my legs wide, welcoming him inside. I whimpered, my own arousal pulsing between my legs.
He teased me, sliding just the head into me, pausing there until I was begging for more. His hands stroked my breasts, squeezing them softly.
He slowly entered me, filling me inch by glorious inch. "Yes, oh yes," I cried, loving every single inch of him. He pushed deeper, burying himself inside me. Our eyes met, and he smiled. God, Iloved that smile.
"Is this what you wanted?" he asked huskily. "Ye-yes," I gasped, unsure if I even heard right. But who cared now, I was getting exactly what I needed.
"Fuck, yeah," he growled, pulling out and slamming back in. I screamed as he fucked me hard, hitting me deep.
His hand gripped my leg tightly, lifting it around his shoulder, giving him access. I felt like I was being branded with his mark, claiming me as his.
Fuck, yes, that's exactly what it felt like. "Dave," I whimpered. "Come on, sweetheart," he whispered.
He drove into me harder, faster.
Every thrust sent sparks shooting through my veins. "Look at me," he demanded, his eyes meeting mine. His pupils dilated, his desire pouring from him.
"See how much I care? How much I love you?
Wanna be with you?" He hissed, ramming his hips against mine.
I was lost in his heat, wrapped in his love. Nothing else mattered except us and the connection we shared. I saw the wildness in his eyes, his nostrils flaring.
His gaze was pure and focused, and in that moment, I knew he was giving me his whole heart.
He pulled out and slammed back in, driving me to the edge.
As I watched him, I realized just how much I loved him, no matter how angry either of us got.
"Fuck, Baby, I'm gonna cum!" I wailed, gripping the messy sheets.
Dave fucked into me as hard as he possibly could, letting out groans of his own. "Cum, cum for me..." he growled.
I whined into the bedroom, tipping my head back as helpless words fell from my mouth. "Right there! Oh, I love you..." I whimpered, feeling myself let go and cum over his pistoning cock.
"I'm almost there, sweetheart," Dave whined under his breath.
He pulled out and shot his load across my stomach and breasts. I could feel it warming my skin, and it felt amazing. I opened my eyes, looking into his dazed expression.
"You okay?" He asked softly, grabbing a few tissues from the bedside table to clean his cum from me.
"Mhmm.." I closed my eyes as Dave finished wiping me off.
Once he was done, he came back down on the bed, holding me close, trying to comfort me. "Hey, shhh... I'm here, I promise," he whispered softly. I sighed, resting my head on his chest.
"I'm sorry.." he whispered. "You're right, I should be making more time for you," he agreed softly. I buried my face in his long soft hair, holding him tight.
"I'm sorry for getting so upset," I mumbled, melting into him.
I couldn't help but sniffle, I missed him so much.
He ran his fingers through my hair, kissing the top of my head. "It's okay. It's all okay. Just relax, don't worry about anything right now."
"Mmm..." I hummed, closing my eyes and listening to his heartbeat. After a few moments, Dave shifted, placing a warm hand on my cheek. "And I'll make it up to you," he promised.
I grinned, snuggling closer, content with where we were. I could hear his heartbeat slowing, and I knew we both needed sleep. I lifted my head off his chest, smiling at him.
"Okay," I whispered, and he nodded. With that, I relaxed into him once again, enjoying the peace he brought me. It felt good knowing he loved me so fiercely. And for me, that was enough.
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