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#this got away from me (i'm also opinionated) but while i can agree with you about how the show feels rushed
mastersoftheair · 2 months
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Sorry but am I the only one that thought that episode…sucked? Like it was straight up bad. Horrible pacing, no wrap up of all the random characters and plot lines they’ve thrown around all season (the tuskegee airmen, Westgates spying, literally all the guys beside like the main 4). (Seriously it makes me so mad that the three redtails got all of 5 seconds of screen time, almost no lines. Literally what was the point of introducing them other than to pretend the show was iNcLuSiVe) Even at the end of BoB and the Pacific you get a much better idea of what happened to all the remaining guys. In this they’re like what happened to DeMarco or Hambone or Brady or (insert character here) we don’t know! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ The concentration camp scene felt shoehorned in compared to how it was done in BoB. Unless that actually happened to Rosie (which i haven’t heard anything about) but it was just like.. ok? It all felt so rushed and emotionless to me. Maybe I’ve just fallen out of love with MoTA but it’s been downhill for me since episode 6 or so.
i already made a little (read: long) post-finale write-up here, where i talk about the use of the tuskegee airmen, l'sandra, and overall editing/pacing issues i felt the show had. but i don't agree with the notion that adding the redtails was in any way insincere or trying to halfass being "iNcLuSiVe", i just think they suffer from this show's obvious time constraints. and to summarize what i wrote in my linked post, there's a limit to what white writers/directors/producers can do when creating a story about black people. there are some stories i'd feel uncomfortable with them telling on their own, truth be told. dee rees wasn't the sole nonwhite director, but she Was the only black one. i think she did her job well given the limitations and i appreciate that they let her direct those episodes, rather than leaving it up to a team of white people trying their best to tell a black story.
the worst i can say about the finale is that it didn't feel like That strong of finale, tho i wouldn't go as far to say it "sucked" or call it "straight up bad". i liked it plenty, it's just the weakest of the hbo war finales imo.
as for the concentration camp scene, artistic license was taken with both shows. unlike what's seen in the BoB, easy company wasn't the first to arrive at kaufering, and there's 0 mention of the all-japanese american 552nd who helped them liberate it). similarly, rosie rosenthal did assist in liberating those camps, though it would've been after the events shown this episode. idk if he saw one in that up-close way seen in this episode, but he could've (i should research this when i have time). plus, it would've felt weird Not having him acknowledge them at all. "shoe-horned" is an odd term to use here imo, as both scenes more-or-less center a jewish character (BoB's liebgott and MotA's rosie). the former show has survivors the characters can help, the latter shows no one left to help. the former has all of easy company there, the latter has rosie there all alone. rosie's scene felt deeply personal in that way. at the end of the day, both scenes are communicating different things. that doesn't make one better than the other when they aren't trying to be identical. (disclaimer, i'm not jewish, so i'd be interesting hearing from the perspective of someone who wrt whether or not they felt it was "shoe-horned")
i can understand if you've disliked the show post-episode 6 (and episode 6 was a very strong episode i'm ngl). eps 7 and 8 were weaker in many ways, even to me, so i get it. everyone's entitled to their own opinion (i'd be a hypocrite saying otherwise). just understand that this blog is run by someone who overall enjoys this show despite its flaws! basically, i encourage you to take this energy and make your own posts.
#masters of the air#hbo war#e9#asks#long post#masters of the air spoilers#mota spoilers#all the hbo war finales are different. i don't think MotA's is as strong but like#my fav hbo war show is still BoB and even Then i don't think it has a better finale than TP. and i dislike a lot of TP! like A Lot!#and Even Then we don't get a good idea about what happens to a lot of the minor-er characters in TP once they leave#anyone who isn't sledge or leckie (rip basilone) is hand-waved-'they went home'-away#not every show needs a sandlot ending w/ a voiceover going:#'[NAME] got really into the [INSERT DECADE] and no one ever saw him again' like they did to webster (rip webster)#and again! i'm mixed about the redtails. but i can Very Clearly See this show getting released without including them#which wouldve left many people (justifiably!) upset that they weren't shown when they were Literally there in the same pow camp#i'll give the hbo war team a lot of shit about a lot of things (despite the enduringly positive energy i try to keep up here)#but i Have to give MotA props for Trying. i don't see faux inclusion i just see it as not quite hitting the mark but an attempt was made#and i think that's worth Something given neither BoB or TP bothered trying#(like i think there was a missed opportunity in TP not mentioning what's happening to japanese americans on the home front)#this got away from me (i'm also opinionated) but while i can agree with you about how the show feels rushed#i do take issue with the idea that they were pretending to be inclusive. i'll blame money time and covid19 before i blame bad intention#maybe that's controversial here but it Is my blog. so.
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yusume-the-writer · 3 months
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If you wouldn’t mind, can we get a bf!Orter Mádl x F reader.
Where Orter is being jealous and over protective bf, that whenever men come near or talk with reader that he just scares them off in a way. And when confronted about his jealousy he denies (as expected).
Sweet and happy ending! (take your time!)
It's not jealousy if it's just to protect your loved one
Orter Máld x Fem Reader
Request made by Anon, thank you very much for this idea
I'm sorry for the delay. I was kind of having a problem creating a scenario, but I hope you like it
We have to agree that Orter seems to be really overprotective, as he is a Divine Visionary who follows the rules to an extreme and has probably made a lot of enemies.
Gender: Fluff
Summary: During a meeting between Orter and his girlfriend, someone appears to interrupt the couple's moment
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Today was a great morning
 Orter had missed a day off to spend with his lovely boyfriend (Name) as he was away because of work
So they spent half the morning in bed because of (Name)'s neediness (and also because Orter was hungry for her affection), and then they had breakfast and got ready to go out in the afternoon.
Now it was nighttime, and (Name) had mentioned a restaurant she wanted to try because of a friend's opinion.
And here they are both, in the restaurant while waiting for their orders to arrive
"A friend of mine said the sweets here are amazing! I can't wait to try them~" (Name) says in a childish tone similar to a child entering a candy store
"Okay, but be careful not to eat too much and get sick later" Orter says
"Okay dad, I'll be careful" She says while looking at him with a pout
"(Name) and you?!?" Suddenly an unknown male voice says
Then a guy appears that Orter has never seen in his entire life.
But it seems like (Name) does...
"Oh and you Kevin..." (Name) says while facing the stranger
 However... she didn't seem happy about this sudden encounter
"Yes! It seems like yesterday that we met" The man known as Kevin says, seeming ignorant about the presence of the Divine Visionary
 "Yes... because we work in the same office" (Name) says while looking at him as if he had asked a question that didn't even need to be asked because the answer was too obvious
Which was true, but Kevin thought he was a comedian
'There's the annoying colleague' Orter thinks as he remembers (Name) venting about how annoying and insufferable a colleague was and that he thought he was the guy for making uncle jokes
He wouldn't say it out loud, but he wants Kevin out of their sight now.
He just wouldn't say it out loud because (Name) would tease him about being jealous.
 "Yeah... anyway -" (Name) tries to tell Kevin to go away
"Me and the guys from work are gathered here, don't you want to come? It'll be fun." Kevin cuts (Name), and it seems like he doesn't want her to deny the invitation
"She's on a date at the moment," Suddenly Orter says, catching the attention of Kevin and (Name)
"... And who would you be, man?" Kevin says it in a confused and disgusted tone of voice.
And, of course, he would be disgusted. There is a man who seems to be a thousand times better than him in front of him
"Her boyfriend, now that you're on leave, could you get out of our sight" Orter says while facing Kevin
 Orter didn't look like it, but he was very angry
Kevin looked like he wanted to say something, but he couldn't say anything
He wouldn't admit how threatening Orter looked or how he stared at Kevin like he was nothing more than prey, not an insect.
No, it didn't even seem like that Orter considered him, but rather just unbearable dirt on a clean floor
And like any dirt, it could disappear and no one would care
... An awkward silence filled the room around Kevin
Then he left without saying anything and went towards a table with people who saw the situation.
As soon as they saw that Orter was also looking at them, they quickly turned around.
 "Heh~" A laugh echoes in front of Orter
As he faced the source of the sound, he found (Name) staring at him with a knowing smile.
"It looks like someone is jealous~"(Name) says while still staring at Orter
"...The food has arrived" Orter says as he changes the subject and faces the waiter who brought the orders
"Hey!!! Don't change the subject!"
"If you don't mention that, I'll buy all the desserts you want"
 ".....Closed"
𝑩𝒐𝒏𝒖𝒔
 Orter was in bed reading a book while waiting for (Name) to finish her skin treatment.
"Don't you think it's better not to read so much?" (Name) says while lying down next to Orter
Confused, Orter stares and raises an eyebrow for her to continue
"If you keep reading so much, your vision will get worse" (Name) begins. "And if you continue, every time you take off your glasses, instead of your eyes looking like 3 they will turn into 4" (Name) ends
Suddenly a pillow is thrown in her face
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mikkomacko · 1 year
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Jersey Leeds
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Nico Hischier x Reader
Summary: Nico's balancing the playoffs and his pregnant wife who's due any day now.
A/n: This one got away from me and is now way longer than I intended. But it's so cute so I hope you all love it.
~
Typically, you're a very calm and easy going person. You don't go out of your way to make life difficult or feel the need to voice your every thought and opinion. Not that there's anything wrong with it, it's just not who you are.
Which is why you went along with the rule Nico had established after the regular season closed out. Your due date was growing closer and closer, a month turned to 3 weeks, and then 2 weeks, and then Nico was pulling his hair out trying to keep calm. He was about to captain his way through the post season for the first time all while trying to be a father for the first time?
At the recommendation of your doctor (and some online advice), Nico had kindly begged you to stay home for the playoff games in New Jersey. He didn't want you in such a wild and stressful environment, didn't want to risk you being around a crowd of fans that have been deprived of playoff hockey for years. It's their first season back in the post season after the rebuild, he'd told you, and he didn't know what to expect. The last thing he wanted to worry about was you and the baby somewhere in the stands while he was on the ice. Especially for a rivalry round against the Rangers. Things get out of control, he also said, what if something happened to you?
So you agreed. You spent the entirety of the first round in your apartment, eyes glued to the TV and hands on the overinflated balloon that was your belly as you watched Nico fight to keep his team in. He played well, enough to keep you from going stir crazy in the living room, but you knew he was thinking about you and the baby at home. Those 2 weeks turned to one, and it was evident in his struggle to find the back of the net that Nico was holding that due date on his shoulders, right on top of the weight of a tight series. If you being at home was going to ease that weight somehow, you'd do it.
But when game 7 found its way back to New Jersey, you couldn't do it.
"Nico you can't confine me to our home!" You argue, folding the white onesie in your hands "I'm pregnant, not imprisoned. If I want to be there I get to be there." You stack it in the laundry basket, picking up the next freshly washed and dried one.
He's set aside his iPad where he had been watching film from last night's game, the screen now dark as he turns his attention to you.
"Love," he sighs, running a hand through his overgrown hair "you know how much I want you to be there. I always want you there, but this is a whole different game now. You don't know what the fans are like and I can't just let you walk into somewhere you might not be safe."
Safe. Lately everything has come down to you being safe. It wasn't any concern before now. You'd gone to every Rangers game, every Flyers game, and every high tense game before that. The organization and the fans know you, they respect you because at the end of the night you're the one taking their captain home just to send him back the next morning. You'd never felt unsafe or unwelcomed at the Rock before.
"I'm just as safe there as here," you respond, still plucking your way through the pile of baby clothes "I've been there before, I'm known there. That's my home just as much as it's yours."
Nico sits up from the headboard, pushing his iPad even further away as he too grabs a couple of bibs and socks from the pile of clothes. He's silent for a moment and you look over at him to see that he's simply holding a pair of baby socks in his large hands, lips pursed in thought. You know he's picturing the tiny feet that'll wear those socks, thinking about how they kick at his hands when he holds you and talks too loud, when he presses his own stomach into yours so he can kiss you and the butterflies that rush through your body tickle at the baby too. You know he's worried, it's his thing. He's always footed too much responsibility, even when he doesn't have to.
"I know it is," he looks up at you, brown eyes gentle and warm but tinged with fear "and it'll be her home too. But it's not yet, and it definitely won't feel like home when hundreds of blue shirts pack in there tomorrow night. You know how these games are normally baby, and while our fans take care of you, I can't promise anything else for the others."
He folds the socks together, tossing them towards the basket with a half-hearted flick of his hand. You pick the pair up and set them in with the rest, handing him the little tee-shirt in your hands. Jack had gifted it to you a week after you told the team about the pregnancy.
"Don't you think the captain should have his family there?" You prod, softly as you watch his lips twitch into a smile at the shirt. It's got the smallest little Devils logo on the front, a C stamped on the shoulder and when he flips it over to look at the 13 and name on the back you notice the way his bottom lip rattles with emotion.
"We'll get there early and stay in the box the whole time. The other girls will be there, I'll stay towards the back and I won't leave until you or someone from the team comes to get me afterwards." You promise, and while that may sound a little dramatic, you don't mind. In fact nothing sounds better than sitting in those plush chairs watching him play while the caterers bring you food and drinks. The only time you'll have to put your swollen feet to work is to go to the bathroom.
Nico runs his thumb over the white letters spelling out Baby Hischier, and you know he's given in by the slow flutter of his eyelashes as he blinks, the smallest bit of hesitance as he thinks this might be the wrong decision but what the hell?
He folds the shirt, pushing himself up from the mess of sheets and you bite back a grin as he rounds the bed to you. A smile has fought it's way onto his face, crinkling at his eyes and sinking dimples into his cheeks. God you hope the baby has that smile of his.
You reach out for him, hands finding his chest before running up to wrap around his neck. He grips the sides of your belly, drawing you closer to him until your belly button is brushing against his abdomen.
"You don't go anywhere without security," he murmurs, right hand coming up to push a strand of hair away from your face. "no dropping into the store during intermission because you wanted something last minute for the baby. And absolutely no trash talking. These fans are fist happy and I don't need you pissing them off even if you're just defending me."
You can't help but laugh. It wouldn't be the first time you'd passionately defended him in the crowd or taunted a fan after he's scored. He knows you so well. You'd never do that now, you know to keep a low profile but it's sweet that he thinks he needs to remind you.
"I promise baby," you swear, sealing it with a kiss and he cups your face to bring you in even closer. "I just want to be there for you. We want to be there for you."
His inhale is uneven, a small tremor of fear or maybe anxiety or even excitement. Maybe all three but it does nothing to wipe away the smile on his face and so you kiss him again, laughing when you feel little hands and feet nudging against his palm on your stomach. Nico keeps kissing you, trailing his lips over your cheeks and nose as you giggle again, and he presses his hand even further into your stomach.
"Yes," he huffs playfully, looking down at your belly "you girls won, I know. I'll get used to it."
~
You stayed as low-key as possible. Simple all black clothes, casual and comfy shoes, minimal makeup and tucked your hair up into a Devils hat and hair clip. Nico appreciated it, slipping his bracelets onto your wrists before he left and giving you a kiss after he reminded you of the rules and precautions and emergency numbers for people at the arena.
The other girls had been notified of your playoff debut and swore up and down that they'd have your back, just as you'd always had theirs. You rode in the party bus with them, hands over your belly as you laughed and caught up with everyone. You missed them lately, and a part of you was heartbroken that you didn't get the first full playoff experience with them. Even the jackets, which you'd ordered and distributed to everyone, were a jab in your emotional heart because you didn't think to get yourself one. At the time you knew you'd be staying home for the games and it didn't seem worth it. Seeing it hang in your room knowing you'd never wear it would be just awful so you didn't bother.
A part of you now wishes you had, and you could almost cry about it if you weren't so excited for the game. But when the bus rolled up to the arena and the lights came up, your happiness at being back was nothing compared to the wave of emotion that took over when the girls pulled out a giant gift bag.
It was red and sparkly, your name written on the tag in a very familiar font. You pushed aside the black tissue paper, eyes welling with tears as you pulled out the black leather jacket. The name Nico had given you last summer and his number, surrounded by bright flames. You unfolded the jacket, swiping at the tears on your cheeks while the girls laughed and cheered. A white card had fallen into your lap, the message simple and sweet.
Knew you'd need it eventually
You didn't need a signature to know who gifted you this. The writing itself was clear but the special signature on the sleeve topped with a heart instead of a 13, said it all. Nico only signed with a heart when it was addressed to you. From that first receipt at the bar you met at after he bought your drinks, to the flowers he'd had delivered to you a few weeks ago just because, that same signature always topped it off.
That's what comes to mind when he takes the ice, finding his spot on the blue line for the national anthem and you holler with the rest of the fans, tucked into the jacket he got specifically for you. The Rock is electric, every fan on their feet and every towel in the air. You keep up for as long as you possibly can but your feet quickly grow sore and tired, so you settle into a seat with a plate of food. At least until you get too into the game and jump back up to cheer with the rest of the girls.
Intermission is spent taking pictures for Instagram, showing off the jackets once again and thanking the artist. You answer texts from family and friends wishing you and Nico good luck tonight, letting you know they're tuning in to watch. An ice cream helmet and a churro are delivered to you courtesy of the security guard Nico has requested follow you at all times, and you enjoy the snack for the entirety of the second period.
With the Devils up 2-0 you feel pretty good. Nico was right, you didn't know what a playoff crowd was like and while it's overwhelming, it's also heartwarming. You can't help but think of how happy Nico must be, how much he deserves this. He's done his best all season to carry the weight of being captain of a team that's constantly left behind and forgotten. The Devils are always the underdogs, and at the front of the pack is your boyfriend, trying his best to build them up into contenders. His first point of the night is a step in the right direction, and you hope he's pulling himself out of the rut he's been in. Maybe you're just superstitious but you convince yourself it's because you're at the game.
As the minutes tick by, you grow even more happy about attending tonight's game. If you're lucky it'll even relax Nico into letting you attend round 2, and hopefully more rounds after that. But you're getting ahead of yourself.
In fact, you don't really have time to think about the next round at all because the baby's begun kicking around in your belly. At first you're amused, making a mental note to tell Nico that he's going to have a hard time keeping his daughter from the rink. But as the girls take turns feeling her kick, the sudden sharp pain in your spine and release of pressure between your legs makes you freeze.
The game grows forgotten, the food and laughs and pictures given up on. There's nothing else to think about except the fact that you are going into labor and your husband is unattainable on the ice below you.
~
Nico has just stepped down the tunnel when he's stopped by personnel, not even around the corner and to the locker room yet. Someone's holding a phone out to him, urging him to take it and he feels his heart drop to his stomach. Why are they looking at him like that? With those hesitant smiles and nervous eyes. He knows it's about you, it has to be and the fact that you're not down here yet let's him know something's wrong.
He rips off his helmet, holding the phone up to his ear. "Hello?"
"Hi my love!" You greet, a little breathless but cheerful. Nico doesn't care whose phone he's got, he takes it with him towards the locker room. Why are you calling him?
"Hey darling, what are you doing?" He ignores the other boys, sitting down in his locker and untying his skates. You're not giving him any reason to be nervous but he has a feeling he should be. "Are you down here yet?"
He can hear someone else talking with you, their voice muddled through the phone but he imagines it's one of the girls. "No I'm not going down to the locker room." You carefully say "I actually already left the arena."
It's then that he recognizes the sound of a car radio and the rumble of the highway. He can feel the others looking at him, wondering why he's on the phone and already stripping out of his gear instead of celebrating with them.
"What do you mean you left?" He asks, toweling through his sweaty hair. "I told you to come down here."
Someone honks on the other line. "I know I know, but I need you to stay calm when I say this Nico."
He freezes, heart pounding in his chest but trying his best to not let it rattle in his voice. "What happened? Are you ok?"
By now Jack has picked up on the call, slowly inching towards Nico's stall with questioning eyes. "I'm fine. The baby is fine. We had a great time. So much fun that she kinda decided she wanted to watch it in person."
Nico's head spins. "What? What do you mean?"
"My water broke," you say and Nico's tossing the phone to Jack, ripping off his jersey and pads.
"Ask her how long ago." He instructs, and he hears Jack greet you before asking the question. You must talk to him for a bit because he's mouthing things and holding up fingers as you go. Nico continues to tear through his gear, half-heartedly wiping sweat off as he goes so he can get dressed.
"Five minutes left in the third," Jack recites back to him. "She took the bus here with the girls so Clare is driving her and they're about 2 minutes from the hospital."
Nico tugs on a pair of shorts and shoves his feet into the sneakers he left in his locker this morning. "She's asking that you please shower before coming here because she knows you smell awful."
He wants to laugh, knows she's teasing him to try and calm him down. It doesn't work. All he can think about is how you're in labor, that your water broke and he wasn't there to help you to the car or drive you to the hospital. He throws on a shirt, taking the phone back from Jack.
"Already dressed, I'm not showering." He's shoving things into his duffle, unsure of what he even needs or should take with him. He at least has the right sense to grab deodorant and cologne from his stall.
"Nico it's not that bad yet." You say on the other end of the phone. "Really you have the time to shower and do media-"
"Media?" He interrupts, "You're not fucking serious? I'm going to the hospital so I can be with you, not talking to the press."
He digs his keys and phone out of the side pocket of his bag, tossing it over his shoulder. He's still got the phone to his ear when he turns back to Jack. "You're on media tonight. Don't say a word about this and call me afterwards."
Jack salutes him, eyes shiny and smile wide. It's then that Nico realizes the whole room is watching him excitedly. Biting back a laugh he address you again.
"I'll be there in 5 minutes. Text me if you get into a room ok?"
"Ok Nico."
"I'll see you soon love," he says quietly, wanting to keep the sweet moment between you two. You return the sentiment, wincing slightly afterwards and he knows you're starting to feel those contractions.
"Hey," he calls before you can hang up. "Don't have that baby until I'm there."
"You got it Cap."
He hangs up, not knowing what to do with the random phone he's been given until the employee that handed it to him is shoving into the room. He quickly gives it back, double checking his pockets for everything just as reporters begin to pour into the room.
"Well boys," he finally addresses the team, looking around at their expectant faces. "We fought hard, we came out on top. And we can do it again later but for now..." Jack has found his way to Nico's side, gripping his shoulder and shaking him excitedly. "I gotta go have a baby."
Hoots and hollers bust out, Jack kisses his cheek and shoves him towards the door. He receives more taps and shoves as he goes, everyone wishing him luck as he prepares for the biggest moment of his life.
~
Nico's fully aware that he looks like a mess. Disheveled, sweaty, gnawing at his bottom lip as he rushes into the labor and delivery lobby. A man in scrubs spots him before he can reach the counter, obviously recognizing him.
"Hischier?" He asks anyway and Nico nods, unsure if he answers around the trembles of his breath. "Right this way, don't worry you haven't missed a thing."
That eases him a bit, enough that he's not breathing down the man's back as they disappear down a long hallway, one left turn, two right turns. Nico finds the room number you'd given him earlier immediately, almost shoving the man out of the way to get to the door. He thinks he apologizes or maybe says excuse me but the only thing running through his mind is seeing you, being there with you.
You're pacing the room when he walks in, one hand on your lower back and the other rubbing circles over your belly. Clare is standing by the side of the bed, watching you like a hawk and Nico feels better knowing she was there. His entrance draws your attention from the TV in the corner of the room, eyes meeting his and your face immediately lights up. He moves to you before you can even take a step towards him, hands reaching up to hold your flush face.
"Why are you up? Are you ok?"
He searches your face, looks for hint of agony or worry but only finds your beautiful eyes and swollen lips. You place a hand over his, laughing softly.
"I'm ok. Still dilating but it feels better to walk." You say. "I sit down for big contractions, I promise."
Nico trusts you, backing away to thank Clare for taking care of you while you continue to move about the room. She leaves to go meet Ryan, promising to check in on you in a couple hours before disappearing out of the room. He perches on the end of the bed, watching you on the edge of his seat in case he needs to get up. The TV is showing highlights of the game tonight before cutting to the locker room just in time to see Nico give his goodbye speech to the team.
Eyebrows raised, you look at him expectantly.
"What?" He asks, defensive.
"You most definitely had time to shower." You say, waddling towards him. His hands find your hips, chin tilting up to look at you just in time to see you dramatically scrunch your nose at him.
"Not a good first impression on your daughter Nico, she's going to think you're stinky all the time."
He laughs, reaching up to move a piece of hair that's stuck to the sweat on your neck. "I have clothes in the baby bag, I'll change my love."
The relief he expected to see on your face is instead one of panic. Eyes wide, mouth dropping open and you squeeze his shoulders.
"I forgot the baby bag!" You wail, throwing your head back in frustration. Nico jumps to his feet when your whine turns to a wince, your hand dropping to your stomach. He carefully turns you until you're sitting on the bed instead, one hand crushing his as you breathe through a contraction.
He waits for it to pass before digging his phone out. "It'll be fine, I'll have Jack stop and get it. The car seats already in my car, nursery set up." Nico brushes your hair back in again, inhaling and exhaling calmly with you. "We're ready for this."
You take another deep breath, eyes not leaving his and he's tries his best to look reassuring.
"We're ready," you repeat quietly "we're having a baby and we're ready."
~
Two hours later, after countless swear words over tearful cheeks, her hand squeezing the life out of Nico's, and a little bit of wooziness on his part, Nico's met his daughter.
She's a tiny little thing, only 6 pounds and 9 ounces. Her fingers and toes scrunched, eyes pinched shut under blonde eyebrows but after only a couple cries, she lays on your chest with a smile. And when he leans in to kiss you, blubbering something about how much he loves you and how precious she is, her little nose scrunches in distaste. Maybe he should've showered. It ends up not mattering though because she still recognizes his voice, especially when he says sweet things in German to her, and her little head tilts towards him, hands wiggling around like she's trying to find him.
As soon as she's swaddled he's taking her, cradling her to his chest in the gentlest but safest way he can. Nico's never thought of himself as impossibly strong but she's so light and so small he's afraid of holding her too tight and hurting her.
You watch him fawn over her while you get cleaned up, brushing out your hair and sponging away the sweat and blood and goop. Nico presses his nose to the top of her head, right where little strands of blonde hair have dried, and takes in the smell of her. Her faces scrunches at him again and he wants to go change and wash up so she'll stop looking at him like that but he can't bare to put her down. Even after you've settled back in the bed and the nurses have cleared out, Nico knows you want to hold her but he still takes his sweet time handing her over.
You look so sweet, so motherly when you hold her to your chest and softly stroke over her cheek. His chest alights with warmth, spreading throughout his veins and his eyes sting with happy tears. He wants to remember this forever. He fumbles for his phone, fingers shaky as he snaps a picture of you smiling widely at her. You look up at him, eyes wet with tears but so unfathomably happy and you say, "she has your nose Neeks."
She does, he realizes, taking in the sharpness of it. Your nose doesn't look like that and while his is a bit different after breaking it, hers is so similar to his. And her blonde hair, just like him. Before he'd grown up, he too had pin straight blonde hair. He imagines her with his eyes too, big and brown, seeping off warmth everywhere they look. He thinks she's so beautiful and he hopes she has your smile because that has to be his favorite thing in the world.
Perfect, his baby girl is perfect.
Nico leaves you two alone, fishing out his clothes and the baby wipes from the bag before disappearing into the bathroom. He does his best to wipe down his body with them, wanting to hurry back to his girls but in the end decides he should just rinse off in the shower there. He forgoes the hospital body wash and conditioner, simply washing his matted hair because he wants her to know what he usually smells like, not some cheap unmarked bottle stuff. He should've asked Jack to grab his bathroom stuff but it's too late now.
Toweling off and redressing in sweats and a t-shirt, Nico combs his fingers through his wet hair and let's it air dry. He put on more deodorant, forgetting the cologne because what if she doesn't like it or has some kind of reaction to it? No he'd rather her think he smells bad.
You let him hold her again when he comes back, moving over so he can squish on the bed next to you and this time when he presses her to his chest, she leans into him, lips smacking quietly as she settles in comfortably. He laughs, shaking his head because she's unable to utter a word but he already knows she's got your same little attitude.
"Nurse came by, said the boys are about to break down the doors to get in here." You say quietly. Nico laughs again, decides he should probably go get whoever's gathered out there so he hands her back to you.
"Wait," you stop him before he can get to the door, "hand me the baby bag please."
He fishes it out from the little storage closet, setting it on the end of the bed and helping you dig through it because he knows you're tired and sore. You pull out a little black beanie with a glittery Devils logo on the front, removing the pink one they put on her head and sliding the new one on. Nico tucks everything away again, taking just a second to look at you and her. You beam at him.
"She's very proud of her dad."
Nico kisses you, a real kiss this time instead of those mushy pecks he gave you earlier. Then he presses a flittering kiss to her head, promising to be back soon before he leaves to gather Jack and the others.
The lobby is packed with hockey players, squished onto the couches, hugging their knees on the floor as they chatter quietly. Nico overhears Jack talking about seeing them earlier, poking fun at how nervous Nico looked. He sneaks up behind him, grabs him by the shoulders and Jack jumps, whirling around to look at him. Nico laughs, not even getting a chance to say anything before his friend is jumping at him. He wraps his arms around him, beaming as the others rise to their feet and join in on the hug. They're all shaking him and patting his head.
"How are we feeling captain daddy?" Wood teases, ruffling his hair. Someone pinches his cheek, comments on his puffy eyes and he shrugs it off.
"Feeling like I just had the best night of my life." He admits and they cheer again. Nico gets them all to settle down and split into to two groups. He doesn't want to overwhelm you or the baby and he doubts he can bring in 15 people. The first group calmly follows him through the hall and to the room, all of them growing quite as they lightly tread into the room in a line.
You smile at everyone as they come in, the baby still cradled to your chest and Jesper is the first to tip toe over, a bouquet of balloons and a teddy bear in his hand. He sets them on the tray next to you, looking at Nico nervously.
"You can say hi," Nico chuckles and you motion Jesper closer, instructing him on how to cradle her. She barely fusses as he holds her, eyes widening and he smiles giddily at Nico. Seeing her in his arms draws the others closer and they set up a stack of cards next to the balloons, Timo settling in the chair next to you and asking about how you're doing. Jesper slowly walks down the line, letting everyone look at her.
Dawson gets a glimpse at her before his head shoots up to look at Nico. "She looks just like you!" He exclaims, loud enough that the baby stirs in Jesper's arm and he freezes. Nico laughs, walks over and reaches in to smooth his thumb over her scrunched nose. She settles back down, but Jesper's freaked enough that he eagerly hands her off to a wide eyed Jack.
"Poor kid," Jack teases, "hopefully she gets her mom's personality or she's screwed." But tears have welled in his eyes and he's staring at her so enthralled that Nico knows Jack already loves her. In fact, they're all looking at her like she's made of precious gems.
Trusting them to be careful, Nico takes Timo's seat next to you. You reach out for his hand and he holds between both of his, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.
"You've got a good group there Captain," you say, looking over as Jack shows Woodsy how to hold her head. He grins, unbelievably happy and content in the moment. He hasn't even had a chance to think about the fact that he's moving on to the next round of the playoffs yet. But all that matters right now is his family. He can think about the game later.
"She's already got them whipped into shape." He murmurs, laughing when Woodsy moves a little too fast and she gurgles unhappily, halting him. Dougie scolds him, taking her from his arms with a disappointed shake of his head.
Jack comes over, squishes himself into the chair with Nico even though it means he's sitting half on his lap. You laugh when he wiggles his hand in alongside Nico's, fingers holding both of yours.
"Congrats mom and dad," Jack says, "I've been waiting for a baby sister. All I got was Luke."
"Where is Luke?"
He snickers. "I left him at home."
You gasp but laugh, releasing their hands to shove him. Nico shakes his head, knowing he's going to have to text the younger Hughes brother and let him know he can stop by whenever he wants.
Timo's the last to meet her, blowing little kisses at her and smiling. "Hey little captain," he whispers, just loud enough for Nico to hear. "hope you like it here because you just got stuck with the whole team."
You and Nico look around, notice that everyone is still squished around Timo watching her. They're like moths to a flame following her, inching closer to the bed when Timo hands her to Nico. Jack moves over, perches by your feet so Nico has room to hold her and be close to you.
"You didn't tell us her name," Dougie says, looking between you and Nico. The two of you had been stuck between two different names but now that she's here the decision is clear. Nico was hesitant of it at first, thought it'd be too cliche or something but she's decided for herself.
"It's Jersey," you say with an amused smile. What other name could you give the baby that had done summersaults in your belly during games and decided she wanted to join the world during her father's game and has the whole team smitten with her.
"Jersey Leeds Hischier." Nico adds and the boys all soak it in, tease him a bit for being so sentimental but he doesn't care. This is his home, it's given him everything, and no matter what happens next round or next year or in ten years from now, he wants to remember everything Jersey has given him.
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charlie-lec-stories · 4 months
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A lovely mess // CL16
Pairing: Charles Leclerc / Original Female Character
Summary: Four times Charles overreacted to becoming a father and one he actually failed to react. Or Charles being a mess through the best and most scary adventure of his life.
Warnings: None, this is pure wholesomeness.
Author’s Note: This one was inspired by some stories my own dad and uncle told me about the times they had their first children. Yes, some of those stories are based on things my father did when him and my mom were expecting me hahahaha. Rate: PG
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Every man reacts differently to pregnancy, but the most common response is just simply becoming a mess of a human being. And because of that, Charles, for once in his life, could be considerer an average man. He had been exceptional his whole life: excellent student at school, talented in arts, languages and sports, remarkable people skills and loved by everyone. People assumed that he was going to be an exceptional father too, and he knew he was committed to the role since day one, but none of that made the experience less scary. The monegasque had always want kids, he had always pictured himself growing old with a woman he loved and raising a bunch of little humans. When he knocked up his girlfriend he was definitely not planning on becoming a father so soon in his life, but he was happy nonetheless. His history with his girlfriend was kind of complicated too, her family didn't like him much, or more precisely the fact that Charles' job made her travel around the globe, away from her family all the time. He knew that he loved her more than he had ever loved anyone in his life, he knew that every time he pictured himself in the future, that future was shared with her, but it would be a lie if he'd say that the pregnancy didn't complicate things. His in-laws weren't too happy when they found out and Charles' mother was kind of worried about the whole situation. But Charles and his girl loved that little "accident" more than life itself and they actually never cared too much about anyone else's opinions. He convinced his girlfriend to move in with him and she also agreed on keep traveling with him until she ultimately had to stay home for the baby's safety.
"Is six weeks really that bad, Amour? I mean, maybe you're jet lagged or something". Charles nervously wondered from sitting at the bottom of the bed, his girl anxiously pacing around the room.
"That's not how periods work, Charlie". She was trying to stay calm and not bark at him, but that was a difficult task.
"Then let's buy a test and find out". He got up and started walking to the door when she grabbed his arm.
"Wait! You can't just go to a pharmacy and buy a test!". She looked at him like he was insane.
"Why not?". If there was someone humble enough to always forget he's rich and famous, that was Charles.
"Because you're Charles fucking Leclerc, that's why!". She let go of his arm and ran her hand down her face, exasperated. "The press is going to have a field day if you do that".
"Shit, you're right". He sighed and his shoulders sunk. He could see her shaking, scared and stressed and all he wanted to do was give her answers so she could get some peace of mind. "I'm sorry, Amour, I just don't know what to do".
"Let's call Lorenzo, maybe Charlotte can buy it for us".
He watched her take care of everything: call his brother, open the door for him and Charlotte, explain the situation, decide over test brands with his sister in law, drink loads of water, all while he sat on the couch, his mind running faster than he had ever drove his Ferrari. How could she think so clearly even with how scared she was? What would he do if the test was positive? What if she didn't want to keep the baby? Why was he feeling so sad with the mere idea of the test turning up negative? Was he really ready to be a father? There were so many questions and so little answers. He could hear Charlotte walk out the door and his girlfriend go their room, he clearly felt his older brother sit by his side on the couch, but he just couldn't move. Lorenzo said something Charles never caught, too drown inside his own head.
"I really want this baby, Enzo". Was all he let out and his brother just squeezed his shoulder.
Charlotte came back pretty fast, a paper bag with at least five different tests for his girl to do. The older woman explained the younger which ones were more effective so they could compare the results later. The possible future mother lock herself into the bathroom while the other three waited outside. Charles felt like he waited for an eternity before she came out with the five little white sticks. She placed them over a napkin on the coffee table and Lorenzo set the timer. Now, they had to wait again. She was sitting on the same couch he was before, looking at everything but the tests in front of her, so he sat down and took her hand in his, hoping for the contact to be enough to ease her thoughts. He wasn't exactly the epitome of calmness and the sweat that covered his hand made it hard to grip at. She looked at him and smiled, she knew that he was going to be there for them, no matter what, but she was still scared of what he would think, she still needed to know if he really wanted this. Still, she refrained from asking and simply rested her head on his shoulder, searching for comfort on his scent. She had her eyes closed when she suddenly flew to the other side of the couch while Charles' loud yelp filled her ears.
"What the fuck was that?". She looked around, trying to find what could have startled him so much to trow her like that, but all she could see was Charles clumsily trying to grab one of the tests while his feet barely kept him up. She had never seen him so uncoordinated in the two years they had been together. His fingers had a mind of their own and his legs were trembling.
"Two lines, this one has two lines". Charles, who had been quiet and petrified for the past hour, was mumbling like a madman as he showed his brother one of the tests. In the background, the alarm set by Lorenzo started ringing and they all looked down at the coffee table, searching for the lines of truth. Charles grabbed the the tests smiling wide as he showed them to the others. "THEY ALL HAVE TWO LINES". He was hyperventilating, his whole body shaking and Lorenzo couldn't help but let out his loudest laugh as he watched his younger brother loose the little bits of sanity he had. "CAN YOU SEE IT, BABY?!". He shoved the sticks into his girlfriend's face. "It's a baby! We made a baby! Putain de merde! I'm going to be a Papa!".
"Yes, Charlie! I see it!". She said sharing his enthusiasm. But then she saw him go pale really fast. He walked backwards a few steps and Lorenzo caught him from behind before he could fall butt first on the ground.
"Okay, I think you need to process this rollercoaster of emotions while sitting on the couch, Cha". The older Leclerc helped his bother to sit down next to the now confirmed future mama. There, Charles took her hand and smiled, a high-like expression covering his eyes. He may be scared, but he had never been happier.
If Charles' reaction to the pregnancy was that chaotic, it was a sure thing that the following nine months would be as well. Before the first trimester was up, he had already brought another house to move to, where the baby could have their own room and a playroom. He brought every piece of Ferrari merchandizing he could find on the internet, he didn't even care if it was original or not. Was it pretty? Yes. Was it Ferrari? Yes. Then he was buying it. His girlfriend even went to the extent of taking away his cards and threatened with getting rid of wifi to make him stop. He didn't, took her extension in the middle of the night and kept binge-shopping for his baby at 4 am. He brought furniture for the bedroom and the playroom, and then he found his biggest rival till the day. A rival he wanted to beat more than Max Verstappen: a crib. She wasn't even showing and he was already putting a crib together, or let's rephrase it, fighting with the crib and losing pathetically.
"Cela n'a aucun sens". (This makes no sense). He complained while he tried to attach what was supposed to be 'Part B' to 'Part 3.1'. Why there was a part 3.1, he didn't know and was too stress out to try and figure it out. He growled, he literally growled when the whole crib came crushing down in front of him. "Je déteste cette merde". (I hate this shit).
"Charlie? What's wrong? I heard a loud noise". He looked at the mother of his child and all he could feel was embarrassment. "Are you alright?".
"Yes. I'm fine". He answered from the floor, looking at his lap. He wanted to cry, but he also didn't want to upset her.
"Hey, you know you can tell me anything, right?". She sat next to him on the floor and searched for his eyes, but he kept looking away from her. "What is it, Charles?".
"I-". He tried to start talking, but he was cut off by his own sob. She quickly made him turn towards her, looking for injuries, but he seemed to be physically fine. She saw the tears running down his face and did the best she could to wipe the away. Moving to sit on his lap, she threw her arms around his neck and pressed herself flat against him, trying to get as close as she could. He cried on her shoulder, soaking her his hoodie and crushing her with his arms around her waist. They stayed like that for a while, until Charles stopped crying. She scratched his head to calm him down and after some time, he did. In a painfully soft whisper, he admitted his fear to her. "I'm going to be a terrible Papa".
"Don't say that. We both know that's not true". Shushing him, she pulled away and grabbed his face, forcing him to look at her. "Is this about the crib?".
"I've been fighting this crib for four days. Our baby is going to sleep on the floor and it's all my fault". She laughed and for a moment, she regretted it, seeing the hurt in his eyes. She calmed down and pecked his lips.
"Charlie, our baby has barely formed their ears yet, you have more than enough time to figure this out". He didn't look convinced at all.
"But what if I don't?". She smiled at him.
"I know you will. Do you want to know why?". He nodded and she ran her fingers through his hair to move it away from his face, so they could look into each others eyes and make him believe her. "Because you already are the best Papa in the world, Charles".
He won against the crib just in time to catch up with the worst part of the cravings period. They were into the fourth month of pregnancy and the little bump was proudly starting to show. Charles couldn't keep his hands away from it. He was constantly touching the bump, kissing the bump, talking to the bump, even scolding the bump whenever he saw some discomfort tinting his girlfriend's face. In the paddock he practically forced her to go everywhere with him and on interviews he answered every question while looking at her. He insisted on people staying at least ten centimeters away from her and he even took upon himself the task of preparing every meal she ate, just to make sure that it was safe and she didn't get food poisoned. He checked places' and foods' temperatures, chairs' and couches' safety, if her shoes were properly tied (at least 20 times a day), the only thing missing was him wrapping her on bobble wrapping. He safety proofed the every hotel room they stayed in so she wouldn't 'accidentally hit the bump against unknown furniture in the dark'. At some point, she had to put a stop to the madness, specially when Charles' newly-daddy paranoia messed with her cravings.
"Amour, what are you eating?". He asked when he caught her hiding with Lando and Max behind the Red Bull garage, a massive greasy half eaten hot dog on her hands. Lando was opening a mayonnaise sachet with his teeth and Max was feeding her french fries with his bare hands, all three of them sitting on the floor. It wasn't exactly the most sanitary situation, but the fuzzy feeling she felt inside her chest thanks to that hot dog made it all worth it. Charles could swear he had an aneurysm just by the sight of it all. "Where did you get that?".
"Uhm...". Her and Lando looked at Max, waiting for him to answer, since he was the one who brought it.
"Well... It's from a professional, I can assure you that, Charles". The monegasque frowned and Max swallowed, scared, just to find out his mouth was completely dry. He wasn't an easily scared guy, but something about Charles' over-protective-dad mood just terrified him.
"And where's the professional's place? Can you show me?". Max, still sitting on the floor, looked at everything but Charles.
"Oh, you see-".
"It's from the stand outside of the paddock". Lando blurted out, followed by him covering his mouth with both his hands and the three of them heard Charles growl.
"Max did you just feed my pregnant girlfriend a hot dog from a dirty street-stand? YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW IF THE PERSON WASHES THEIR HANDS-"
"They definitely don't, I mean, they don't have where to".
"Lando, you're not helping me, mate". Max advised, not moving his eyes from the fuming Charles above him. Then the pregnant girl decided to intervene.
"Charlie, babe, it's okay. I asked him to buy it for me". Charles then looked at her, his gaze softening a little, but still angry.
"Amour, you know that's not good for you". He walked to her and hooked his arms under hers to help her off the floor.
"But the baby wanted it". Max still followed Charles, afraid of what the future father could do to him for messing with his unborn baby's diet. Lando stayed very still, hoping to make himself invisible. "I was just craving this so bad! And you never let me have this type of food. The baby is fine, I promise".
"Don't do that face, it's not fair". He complained when she gave him her best puppy eyes. She didn't stop, and he finally dropped the attitude. "Okay, maybe we can make some room for a hot dog once in a while. But you have to keep eating healthy, we don't want the little Tifosi to come out malnourished".
"Yay!". She squealed and hugged him tight, the hot dog almost falling from her hand. Charles hugged her back and then directed his gaze towards the other two drivers.
"And you two". Max and Lando looked at him wide-eyed. "This better be the last time you pull off something like this. Did I make myself clear?".
"Yes, sir". Both said at the same time and got up from the floor.
"Okay, go on. And think about what you did". They nodded their heads, Max handing the girl the fries and then walking away with Lando.
"I like you daddy-voice". Charles shrugged at her comment.
"Amour, don't call it that or I won't be able to use it without laughing".
Charles' paranoia got better. He calmed down a little, but then the fear of being a bad father came back. Around the seventh month, already knowing they were having a boy, Charles found himself with insomniac. At the beginning of the pregnancy he was scared of not knowing what to do to take care of a baby's basic needs: bottle feed, change diapers, help him to sleep, and things like that. But as the date of the delivery got closer, Charles' fears shifted to the more existential type. What if he was unable to guide his son through life? What if he failed on teaching him good values and a strong sense of ethics? What if he ended up raising a spoiled kid, arrogant and narcissistic? What if he couldn't make his boy happy? What if his kid hated him? Those questions kept him up at night, turning over and over on the bed, and cold sweat covering his body. He would walk to the baby's room and look at the painting his girlfriend did on the walls, the name 'Jules' written on lilac on a clear sky, over the race track so carefully crafted. What if his son didn't want to race cars? What if he was forcing him to do so when he wasn't even born? Sitting on the rocking chair, he would look out the window, the yachts at the bay clearly visible from there. What if his son didn't like Monaco? What if his son would rather adopt his mother's nationality and culture over his? The dark sky adorned with shinny little dots would look back at him without answers.
"Charlie? Why are you up, love?". He heard his girl's sleepy voice call out to him from the doorway. He smiled at her, his eyes glossy as he fought the tears that wanted to escape.
"Just thinking, Amour. Don't worry". He gave her his best smile, but she could read his real feelings underneath it. "Go back to bed, I'll join you in a minute".
"I think we love each other enough to cut the bullshit, babe". She walked further into the room and stopped in front of him, her big belly at his face's height, and he couldn't help but reach forward and kiss it. "What is it?"
"It's... it's just a lot and it's late. Don't worry, really-"
"Charles, I'm not sleeping until I'm convinced that you're alright". He sighed, and pulled her to his lap. The weight was a little bit more than what he was used to, but he loved that, it made it impossible for him to overlook the fact that his baby was there, with them. He made her rest her back against his chest and rocked he chair, hugging her tight against him and resting his chin over her shoulder. They both looked out of the window and she patiently waited for him to tell her what was going on inside his mind.
"I'm scared. I feel this huge responsibility over Jules". She smiled, loving whenever they talked about their baby using the name they choose for him. "I just want to be a good Papa, but I'm so scared of messing up, of making the wrong choices, of using the wrong words, of leading him in the wrong direction. What if I don't raise him right? If I'm not a good role model?"
"Well, you're not alone in this, Charlie, I'm with you till the end of the line. Like Bucky and Steve. I know that we'll be alright. I just know it". She sounded so sure of herself. He wished he could be that sure about everything.
"How do you do it? How do you manage to always be so sure and composed?". She laughed and he felt the baby kick under his palm, he always kicked when she laughed.
"I've been the least composed person and you know it, Charlie! I break down crying at least five times a day. You've seen that! You're the one who comforts me every time". He laughed softly, that was true, those had been some pretty crazy seven months. A true rollercoaster of emotions. And they still had two more months to go. "I know that we'll be alright because we're already asking ourselves these questions. Because we care about Jules so much that we truly take time to think things through. We are going to be alright because we love our baby and we both know we will always do the best we can for him. We won't let the bad choices from our parents be repeated and we'll make sure to copy the best from them to give to Jules. That's why I'm so sure". She turned to look at him for a moment. "I trust you to be the dad of my baby because I know how great of a human being you are, Charles".
"I love you". He said, feeling a lot better. He kissed her tenderly, and then another kick was felt under his hand. "Thanks for being here for me, Amour".
"Always, just as you had always been for me". She nuzzled her nose against his. Another kick and they both laughed. "Let's go back to bed, Papa".
The two months passed by in a blink. Charles asked Ferrari to give him a leave of absence for the first two races of the season. He wanted to be world champion, but he would rather be there when his son was born. Ferrari let him take his time, but Jules decided to be born at eight and a half months. It seemed like he couldn't wait to meet his parents, because everything happened so fast that Charles had barely had any time to react. They were having lunch at his mother's house, and he was having the best time. His girl looked amazing, all radiant and happy, her belly covered by a cute but comfortable dress, his sisters in law both touching the belly and fighting for godmother duties. Lorenzo and Charlotte were definitely the chosen ones, but they hadn't tell anyone yet, after all both Lorenzo and Charlotte were there for them when they needed them. His mother was showing him little clothes that she had crocheted for Jules and his brothers discussing which one was going to be the 'responsible uncle' and who the 'funcle'. Arthur was definitely unable to be the responsible one, so he was already chosen to be the 'funcle'. Every conversation was cut short when the faint voice of the future mama rang through the air.
"Charlie". Her shaken voice called out, and he turned around to see what she needed. There was a wet patch under her and she was grabbing her belly, a painful expression on her face. "I think my water broke".
"The baby is coming!". Arthur shouted excitedly, but Charles' brain just stopped functioning. He saw everyone running around to grab things, Charlotte and Carla helping his girl out of the house and towards his car, Lorenzo grabbing the baby bag the carried around just in case since the beginning of the last trimester, Arthur pushing him outside and his mother speaking, but he just couldn't move. H was petrified. He felt like his blood pressure had dropped in a second and if it wasn't for Arthur behind him, he would have certainly fallen to the ground. His mother took his car keys out of his pocket and then they pushed him on the back seat, next to his girlfriend. Her hand crushing his brought him back from his outer-body state and he was able to react, turning to face her and running his other hand down her arm, doing his best to sooth her.
"It's okay, mon amour. Breath, breath with me". He instructed her and he started to exaggerate his breathing so she could copy her. She did and that calmed her down enough to count the seconds between one contraction and the next. "That's it, Amour, you're doing so good". He praised her and she smiled a little, her happy expression cut short by another waive of pain. She screamed and cried, sweat covering her forehead and running down her face, mixing with her tears. It was probably the most messy she had ever looked, but he had never seen her as beautiful as in that moment. "I love you so much". He whispered it, but by the squeeze she gave to his hand, he knew for sure she was saying it back. "We're almost there, hung on a little longer".
He almost carried her out of the car and into the hospital the second Arthur parked the car. Then, they found out that she was ready to deliver in that second. Jules didn't want them to keep him waiting, she was brought to the delivery room and Charles was given surgical gown so he could join her. Inside, the whole process was quick, in 30 minutes, Jules was crying on the doctors arms and Charles could feel his heart skip a beat. Wrapped on towel and with the small hat they had for him on, Jules was passed on to his mother, who took him instantly while she cried her eyes out. Charles, still on delay with reality, was trying to process the information. That was his baby, he was finally there, he could finally touch him. The doctor walked to him, placing a hand on his shoulder, Charles couldn't stop looking at his girl and little Jules. He heard a softly "go ahead, meet your boy", and that was enough for him to place a shaking and gentle hand on Jules' head. He ran his thumb over the soft little cheek and the tears started to fall. He felt his girl's hand wipe away his tears and heard her laugh softly. She just found funny that after overreacting about every little thing for the past eight months, Charles was barely able to react that day. He was a mess in that moment, but he was the perfect mess in her eyes. The most extraordinary mess. He finally smiled and reached down to kiss her head, then he looked at Jules.
"I am your Papa, Jules. I love you. I'm so happy to finally meet you".
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I hope you guys liked this one!
374 notes · View notes
retrocesosdestacion · 7 months
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INSIDE EVERYTHING. | ingrid engen
ingrid engen x reader
genre: smut, minor disastrous.
warnings: +18 writting, semi-public sex, touching, fingering, r sub, maybe a bit realistic, did not reach the limit, half sex, almost caught.
notes: i'm not a big fan of writing smut but i tried to use all my neurons 🤷‍♀️ also i wrote this when i was sleepy so maybe there are some things that don't make much sense
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: It's shopping day, however you are very doubtful on which denim shorts you are going to acquire.
How to solve? Ask a certain norwegian woman for her impression.
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“ You're on my mind, been there all the night. I've been missing my midnight queen. ”
Rosenfeld.
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❝ No. ❞ You heard Ingrid disagree before you even got fully dressed.
Arms crossed with some shorts folded, back leaning against the cabin wall and beautiful grassy eyes staring at you.
Engen looked more like a fashion critic than your girlfriend. That was the bad side of being her girlfriend: always having an opinion in what you would wear.
❝ Why not?! ❞ You would need good justifications to ditch those shorts. You walked around completely to make sure it was comfortable. ❝ It's perfect. ❞
❝ Too short. ❞ Worse than having a critical girlfriend? Having a jealous and critical girlfriend.
You and Ingrid have been dating for a year. It are flowers, there is nothing to complain about apart from the midfielder's very few inconvenient attitudes.
After all, you were also a bit inconvenient with her.
Your optical orbs landed on the norwegian, indignant and not convinced that these would be the perfect shorts for your summer vacation.
❝ But isn't that the point of shorts? ❞ You argued, extending a hand to Engen, waiting for her to give you the next shorts you would try on.
❝ Yes, but this one is shorter than the normal ones. ❞ Ingrid claimed as she watched you from top to bottom, mainly focusing on the beginning of the curve of your buttock. ❝ And your ass shows. ❞
You rolled your eyes, unzipping your shorts inside the cabin; Just the two of you, there was nothing to worry about.
You wouldn't even need to face the norwegian in person to find out her reaction, as the mirror that almost completed the wall gave it away.
❝ And what’s the problem? ❞ At that point you were mocking with her, but it was these types of comments that touched the player's heart the most. Your eyes landed on your girlfriend's reflection.
Engen was not happy about this at all. ❝ Are you kidding me? ❞ Her perplexed tone was so noticeable that it brought a silly smile off your face.
The laughter on your face was there for a long time, and so was the silence. Not so much, in reality, the only thing that passed through your ears was the scattered sounds of the store's environment.
❝ Give me the next one, miss possessive. ❞ You whispered without receiving a response. Your brow furrowed in doubt, until you noticed Ingrid's sudden approach to you.
So, you turned your body towards the woman, who suddenly handed you one of the next shorts you were going to try on. ❝ We had agreed that you wouldn't call me that anymore. ❞
❝ How can I not call you that if you live up to your name? ❞ You played again, pulling down the shorts you were wearing while you felt her greenish eyes penetrate you.
Basically, it was completely fun to irritate and pay attention to the norwegian, mainly because she gave in very easily to this type of emotion.
It just wasn't expected that this time would be different. Really very different.
You threw the previous shorts on the armchair inside the dressing room and immediately put on the other one. Sincerely? That was the best.
❝ How about that? ❞ You questioned without looking back at Engen. It was comfortable, probably wouldn't be too short in your girlfriend's opinion, and it wasn't long either.
You gave the norwegian some time to formulate an impression about the shorts. And given how long it took, something positive would probably come out of those lips.
Or maybe because Engen's eyes were too busy staring at your thighs and part of your groin.
❝ Not short. And it's more practical. ❞ Gotcha. Ingrid murmured, immediately placing her index finger inside one of yours side waistbands.
Your eyes finally met the midfielder's, who had a very tempting look on her face. And you knew very well what that meant, but not for that moment.
❝ Practical? ❞ You slowly dissipated the word from your lips, confused by what was said.
❝ To take away. ❞
And gradually you discovered it. Your eyes widened, eyebrows rose in surprise and your head began to shake slowly in denial.
❝ No. ❞ You inhaled, shaking your head faster. ❝ No way. ❞ Your cheeks began to burn with tension.
❝ I didn't say anything. ❞ Ingrid smiled the stupid smile of someone who had the best idea in mind. Suddenly, you weren't the one playing with her anymore.
And yes, she is playing with you.
The finger on the waistband previously pulled you closer to Engen's body, who saw the opportunity to seal your lips quickly.
At first you forced yourself to give in, after all, who would deny a kiss from the woman of your life? Presupposedly, you moved your face inches away, before the norwegian started advancing.
❝ Shit, Ingrid. We are not doing it. ❞ You whispered, placing the palm of your hand on the woman's lips and gently pushing them. ❝ We are in public. ❞
❝ No, we are not. ❞ Engen played with the situation once again, moving your hand away. ❝ Please, it will be quick. ❞
Your optical orbs stared at the stupid malicious expression that the midfielder carried on her beautiful and angelic face.
The long silence without responding to the norwegian was the key for Ingrid to carefully seal her lips again. Slowly, your body was pushed against the mirror on the wall. ❝ The chances of them seeing us are low, Kjære. ❞ (darling.)
Your body was already warm from the closed and small place that was the cabin, and now with your girlfriend touching you? It was like adding gasoline in aflame.
Ingrid controlled her lips so well, being nice and slow until you got used to the situation. The taller girl's long, cold, left-handed fingers slid down your torso, looking for some treasure while the other hand delicately grabbed her jaw.
You grunted between the kiss, perhaps due to the tension, to the lack of breath that was present or owing to the fear of someone opening that door.
Your eyes closed, giving up on the situation you found yourself in. Your mind focused on the sweet flavor of Ingrid's lip flesh and creating scenarios of an employee opening that door.
The only thing that sounded inside that semi-dark room were the sticky lips mixing and the sound of the environment.
❝ Ingrid— ❞ You murmured between the kiss, which slowly broke from the moment Engen led them south.
The norwegian's lips found themselves on the skin of the curve of your neck. And that was the final step for you to finally give yourself to the woman.
Your fingers slipped between the black strands, combing and pressing them each time Ingrid gently nibbled or sucked your skin.
If you were looking at her correctly, you could easily see how the midfielder had a short and emphatic smile.
Lips half-open, echoing muffled sounds and your skin getting chills more and more. It was magnificent, incredible and crazy how a certain norwegian woman could make you ecstasy.
❝ That's a bad idea. ❞ The words slowly came out in a murmur between muffled grunts. Ingrid increasingly enhanced her lips on your skin.
The midfielder had the talent of always studying your body with tenor and affection, it was a gift to have Engen's delicate lips glued to your figure.
But despite this, your concern for the environment was the counter to affectionate touches. Even though every cabin had a door, they didn't lock.
And being inside for more than six minutes was also a danger, at some point someone would enter there.
❝ Trust me. ❞ Engen finally released her lips from your body, but it screamed, begged to have her back.
You hated Ingrid for always leaving you at ease in situations like this, always halfway. At this point, your legs were almost begging to open and let the Norwegian do whatever she wants with you.
It was a fight. You wanted to, but you also didn't.
But in reality, there was no turning back from this; Your needy and passionate side won.
Screw it. You're in public, people should see how much you love each other. People should watch how you loved being touched like that.
Ingrid finally reached her fingers at the beginning of your genitals through your shorts, gradually touching them with just her index finger.
Your body was sensitive, any touch was enough to make you grunt or arch. The norwegian's fingerprint did not rub, but slid, circularly.
Even though the fabric of the shorts is thick enough to not feel the outside touch, Engen had the capacity to do so.
It was the wet lips touching your skin and marking it, it was the slightest touch of the long finger in the region of your genitals; Ingrid wasn't even inside you and your breathing was so heavy.
Your lungs inflated and deflated as quickly as a marathon runner's, a strong struggle between containing the slightest groans and finding breath for the situation.
❝ Do you want me to stop? ❞ Engen murmured between her lips glued to your skin, slowly pulling away and resting her eyes on your face. ❝ We can do this at home. ❞
Despite all this attitude, Ingrid was a person with a strong personality, always putting your well-being first.
The norwegian's fingers, too. They stopped, but without leaving their place.
You took a second breath before confirming your answer. You shook your head negative, finally giving your answer.
❝ Please, no. ❞ Your lips wet with your own drool, hardly satiated because you were busier moaning.
Your body began to release drops of sweat, your sly eyes looked at Engen; carrying the stupid horny smile.
Her left hand slid down to the south of your thighs, pressing your fingers against the norwegian's wrist. You slowly guided her delicate hand into your shorts, unzipped.
Therefore, the midfielder's fingers were a tissue away from her clitoris. Your gaze stared into the greenish optical orbs, somewhat perplexed by his sudden attitude.
❝ Finish what you started. ❞ You brought your lips close to your girlfriend's ear area, enough to whisper.
You freed her wrist, intending to give Engen full consent to touch your body however she wanted. Your arms rose and wrapped around the player's neck.
Slowly, Ingrid wet her own fingers with her lips, lubricating them. The ring finger started the touching, even over the panties.
It was slow, but well done. The midfielder had a lot of experience when it came to creating elation in you.
The circular movements were enough to make you grunt and muffle the sounds on Engen's skin, indirectly begging her to do more and more.
Within seconds, the only thing you could feel was Ingrid's finger invade your clitoris, especially when you noticed your panties being dragged to the side.
Exposed to her and everything, your eyes refused to look at anything other than the cabin door. You had many missions: not to moan so loud, not to grunt and not to make any rough movements.
After all, you were one step away from being in public.
Ingrid's ring and middle fingers did not penetrate, but rubbed against your warm vaginal skin. From side to side, top to bottom.
And that was enough to make you act like she had two fingers inside you. It wasn't a lie when it was said that your skin is sensitive.
With each second it increased in intensity like a sports car starting up, Ingrid moved her fingers so well that you even wondered if that was the woman you knew.
Your face was buried in the midfielder's collarbone, muffling short, sly moans that left your lips.
❝ Damn, Ingrid. ❞ Even though you were busy blocking out the sounds coming out of you, there was still space to murmur your loved one's name.
Engen acted concentrated, rubbing her fingers on you, which inch by inch entered you. But also, the woman's cold lips touched your skin.
Body arched towards your girlfriend, fingers leading towards the long black strands of her. You bit your own lips with each long finger you received, stopping the moans from coming out.
Slowly, you could feel the sweat dripping down your entire body, especially on the inside of your thighs. A sweat so powerful that it was enough to slide.
The heat inside the dressing room was so intense that the mirror fogged up every minute, perhaps due to the control over your bodies.
❝ Relax. ❞ Engen murmured so low that it was difficult to decipher, even close to your ear.
You didn't know what to say and didn't even know what to think: you didn't know whether to moan the norwegian's name, order her to stop due to the tension or beg for more.
And down there, it was impossible to describe what was happening. Ingrid wrapped her fingers around it, took it out and put it back in several times and always increased the intensity as if she knew exactly what she was playing with.
Engen played with your body as if she knew every detail and secret of yours.
❝ Fuck. ❞ You repeated this once, twice, three times, almost increasing your intonation. Your mind surrendered to Engen, surrendering so much that you even forgot you were in public.
Your very long arms pressed more and more around the taller woman's neck, mainly as a bridge to sink your face even further into her neck.
The norwegian brought her lips back to your neck, carefully kissing your skin, but also biting it.
On your private part and now on your neck? This was the perfect combo, but at the same time crazy. It was at that moment that you were sure you were crazy about Ingrid Engen.
But you were so focused on praising her and moaning the norwegian's name that you completely forgot you were in public.
Especially on a Saturday night, where people go out to buy clothes and try them on. Which meant your time was limited.
At that moment, even though you were mentally occupied with Engen's face and fingers, it was very noticeable steps meters away heading towards you.
Your eyebrows arched, immediately pulling the player's hand away; even though she had noticed it too, since she had stopped moving her fingers.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
❝ Men hva i helvete. ❞ (what the fuck.) Ingrid murmured so swiftly that it didn't even sound norwegian. The woman's body reacted so quickly by moving towards the armchair, that Engen seemed experienced in being caught in act.
And you were no different. The only problem is that you only had the opportunity to stare at the door, praying that whoever opened it wouldn't notice anything.
The footsteps approached and stopped, knocking twice on the door and asking permission to open it just a crack.
❝ Yes? ❞ You responded to the touches with a fragile intonation, as you were trying to catch your breath.
❝ Sorry to interrupt, but I noticed that you've been in there for almost twenty-five minutes. ❞ A female voice came from outside. ❝ Is everything ok? ❞
You took a while to respond, as you were more concentrated and having difficulty taking off your shorts due to the sweat caused.
❝ Yes, everything fine. I am leaving soon! I just need... ❞ Your eyes fell on Engen, who carried a stupid smile of someone who was clearly holding back a laugh. ❝ ...Fold the clothes I wore. ❞
❝ No need, just leave the ones you won't use on the counter after you leave. ❞ The door gap has closed. ❝ Once again, sorry for the inconvenience. ❞
An uncomfortable silence remained inside the cabin, you wiped off the little sweat that remained on your own neck.
❝ I knew this would happen! ❞ You finally said something, looking at Ingrid.
❝ If you had known it was going to happen, you wouldn't have accepted it, miss moans loudly. ❞ Engen got back at you, expressing short laughs that were definitely meant to stress you out.
❝ But I— ❞
She got up and walked towards the door, carrying the other shorts you had already worn. ❝ Can we finish at home? ❞ At this point, Ingrid was making fun of you.
❝ ...Fuck you. ❞ That was the only thing you said before pushing the Norwegian; which barely moved. Your cheeks burned in embarrassment.
You put on your own pants, soon carrying the shorts you were previously wearing between your fingers. Now, you were forced to buy it.
❝ We will never do this again, you idiot. ❞
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ladyloveandjustice · 9 months
Text
To give my Real Opinion on the whole Clark vs Lois issue (since people are giving me theirs), I'm surprised it is an issue, since it's very clearly supposed to be an conflict where both people made decisions that made sense from their point of view but still hurt each other. It makes sense that Clark would be insecure about telling Lois this when she's acting distrustful of Superman, and it makes sense he'd freak out and not handle a situation where she was putting a lot of pressure on him well. It also makes sense that Lois would be angry (and probably humiliated) and upset that Clark not only lied to her face when she was begging him to tell her the truth, but left her where she couldn't help him when she was worried sick about him.
Honestly, I think a lot of you aren't being honest about how you'd feel if you had a friend who disappeared every time something dangerous happened, you spent a lot of time frantically searching and worrying about that friend each time, only to find out oh hey, your friend was well aware of how worried you were and was actually right there but they were pretending to be someone else instead of letting you in on what was happening. You'd feel played with.
And Clark also KEPT lying when she was basically saying "hey stop lying to me. I know." He did it instinctively. She was begging him to tell her, and he didn't. That's going to hurt, and that's going to be galling. She definitely felt she had no other choice than to do something drastic, because she can't enter a relationship with someone she knows is lying to her and here he is, refusing to come clean. She's a reporter, the need to know drives her.
"Lois isn't entitled to Clark's private information, they haven't known each other that long", sure, but Clark vanishes in dangerous situations and causes real distress, Clark has been discussing Superman with Lois and unconsciously trying to manipulate her feelings on him while not telling her the whole truth, and you'd feel weird if someone did that, you'd feel kinda violated! And even if someone told you they weren't doing that to laugh at you, wouldn't you be hurt and humiliated?!
When exactly IS Lois entitled to Clark's info? When they start dating? How many months is it okay for him to date her without him telling her he's actually the guy she spends every waking minute trying to interview? Would he have told her as their relationship got serious? Not knowing that is probably scary and if I was Lois I'd think twice about if I wanted this either!
And what's especially scary is that yeah, he did leave her behind to so he could possibly go get killed when she was begging him not to. That's terrifying. She was probably terrified the entire time she waited. He was able to take her choice away from her, and Lois does not like feeling helpless. Clark was scared of her getting hurt, so he enforced his will and so shewas scared for HIM. and then he refused to talk about those worries!
It's also pretty galling when she's already helped him out in several fights- she's proven she can be useful and helpful! I'd be mad too! I'm sure there was a little vindictiveness in her actions- you see how you like it when someone takes your choice away too.
At the same time, Clark is clearly not comfortable showing people his whole self. He still doesn't know who he is, and he goes into panic mode about it. He's very scared of people being hurt because of him. What he did made sense from his point of view. And I'm sure he's not happy to be forced to reveal his secret.
It doesn't matter 'who's more right'. It's not a game they get to win! They both violated each other's boundaries. Their feelings both make sense from their perspective, and interesting conflicts are complicated. And I like it when characters don't just react to everything flawlessly. There's a lot of drama in secret identities, and sometimes stories have conflict.
I do agree this should have happened later in the season or as a season 2 thing, but that's sadly just life in this streaming hell era. They didn't know if they'd get a season 2 to tell the story they wanted. We have to take the conflict as it is. And let's face it, if Lois had taken longer to figure out, y'all would be making fun of her for being dumb. Lois is for some reason always the butt of that joke even though nobody else can see Clark is Superman either- and when she does figure it out (as she usually does!) and has anything other than positive feelings about it she still gets blamed. Just enjoy having a character who can have complex feelings.
If you hate relationship conflict, there's stuff for you out there! Read Superman Family Adventures by Art Baltazar, it's very cute low stakes low conflict stuff and has an actual Himbo Clark.
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nejiverse · 11 months
Text
YOU’RE HIRED!
Nagi Seishiro
In which you ‘interview’ your jobless boyfriend
cw: suggestive at the end, choki is the name of nagi’s pet cactus for those who don’t know, I’ll proofread this later lol
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802 words
"Sei you really need to get a job", you plopped down next to him on the bed as he looked extremely focused on what ever game he was playing.
"Ehh? Sounds like a pain".
"Breathing is a pain for you love, at this point you're just gonna have to build a bridge and get over it", you spoke resting your head on his shoulder.
He frowned. "Building a bridge sounds like a pain too".
"...i meant that metaphorically, I don't actually expect you to build one", you didn't think you'd ever have to explain that...but here you were.
"Still a pain".
You were on the verge of banning that word from his vocabulary.
You let the room fall silent for a second before you quickly snatched his console away from him and crawled to the end of the bed.
Which unfortunately was unsuccessful because Nagi grabbed you by your leg.
"Stealing isn't nice y'know", he pouted while he put his hand out, expecting you to drop his console back into his hand.
"Oh like that time you stole my last chicken nugget?".
"Borrowed actually", he huffed.
You shook your head and stuffed his console down your shirt, showing your empty hands to him as if you've just done the most incredible magic trick.
"You need a life babe", it was true. All he did was wake up, play games, and go back to sleep. It was unhealthy.
"You are my life", he responded.
You laughed. "Nice try but that won't get your console back".
"Aw, damn".
You thought of an idea that'd entertain you but also would let you figure out if your boyfriend was equipped for a job...or if anyone would even consider employing him.
"Alright pretend i'm your potential employer, if you pass my interview you can have it back", you sat up and crossed your legs.
Nagi agreed, but only if you'd make it easy.
"So tell me a bit about yourself", you decided to skip introductions. There was no way anyone could flunk that, even your lazy boyfriend.
"Mmm my name is Nagi Seishiro, I like games and sleep", he blinked at you as you urged him to go on but he only shrugged his shoulders. "That's it".
You face palmed at his hopelessness. "Sei is that seriously what you're gonna tell your employer?!".
"Of course it is".
The fact that he was serious added to your worry for him but the show must go on.
"Why did you decide to apply for this job?".
Nagi placed a hand on his chin in thought. He already had his answer but it just added to the theatrics of it all in his opinion.
"I was forced to apply against my will by my girlfriend", he spoke.
"Seiii! Your employer will literally leave!", you shook his shoulders gently.
"I say good riddance".
"Okay one more question, and answer it properly!", you forewarned. He thought his answers were pretty proper though.
"Why should we hire you?".
"So my girlfriend'll stop bugging me about getting a job...do I get the job now?".
"Fuck no", you laughed, scooting closer to your disappointed boyfriend who laid back down with a sigh.
"If it makes you feel any better, A for effort", you laid your head on his chest. "You can just work from home or something".
"I can be a house husband", you looked up at him quizzically.
"Sei, sweetie, love of my life, you don't even do the small chores you have these days...I don't think that's possible", you patted his chest.
He grumbled under his breath, you really had zero faith in him but you were only being realistic.
"Alright then I can be a stay at home dad”.
You raised a brow. Nagi of all people as a father??. "For that you'd need actual kids. We've none of those".
You were taken aback when Nagi moved your head from his chest to the pillow and got on too of you, a hand at your head and the other on your waist. You blinked blankly. "Let's get to baby makin' then", he said it so casually, you were shocked…but not completely opposed to the idea.
“S-seriously?”, you averted your gaze to the side.
Nagi’s hand slithered up your top as he shook his head.
“Nah, I just realised I’d still have to do chores”, he took back his console and laid next to you, continuing his game. “Besides we’ve got a kid already”.
“We do?”.
“Yeah, Choki”.
Masterlist :)
a/n: more drafts..I’ve a biology exam in two days and I just came back from holidays 💀 #ihatethefivekingdomsoflife
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genevawren38 · 20 days
Text
I have a few things to say about Quackity's stream and the QSMP as a whole.
If you haven't watched the stream, please do so here, I refuse to paraphrase and believe it should be watched in its entirety to form your own opinions. [Here is the YouTube link]
First of all; I don't think any of the actions Quackity took were deliberately malicious. I believe, in my opinion, he got swept up in the excitement and hype surrounding this new project, and we all know how easily that can happen. It's so easy to ignore the small things when you are being showered in positivity.
I think the project got far bigger than he thought which opens up everything to a lot of criticism.
But he does not deserve to feel unsafe, nor is it any sort of appropriate to send him death threats under any circumstances. Nor to anyone, that is a line we should not cross.
Please, for the love of everything, remember this is one of the biggest projects he has ever attempted. Balancing management, his real life, and his public figure status must be incredibly stressful, and you can only do that for so long until things start to go unnoticed. Someone spread so thin is bound to crack, and unfortunately, I think that's what happened with the administration. He's an incredibly busy guy, and to expect him to be so hands-on with the project while keeping up with the rest of his life and future prospects is an inhumane task to keep up with.
Yes, I absolutely agree that healthy amounts of criticism are necessary in something as groundbreaking as this. But under no circumstances *ever* does that become something you can threaten another's safety over.
I also agree he should have said something and apologized to the previous admins who were brave enough to share their story. But I also can agree with the fact this might have been better done privately, at least as much as possible, because the moment you get the public involved someone malicious is going to rip their words apart to use in whatever fashion they wish.
But it's hard to be truly objective and honest when every word you ever say online could be misconstrued and twisted to suit another's fancy.
I think that's where most of the issue lies, at least to me. There are systems in place when handled in a law environment to protect those affected. The moment anything goes public, it's free game for someone to use as they wish.
I think in certain situations, getting the public involved in the good fight is a sound decision, for a group of people are louder than one individual. But it can also grow wildly out of control if not handled properly, and for a delicate situation like this, I think it's only drawn the whole situation out to a painful amount.
I dislike the fact that a lot of my passion has disappeared for the server because this server is full of people whose content I enjoyed previously and some I've only now discovered.
But, I still do believe it's possible for us to hold hope. I have to hold onto that because if there truly is a way for this to turn around it can serve as an example it's possible to recover and put your best foot forward.
I think there's been mistakes all around, blown wildly out of proportion, but I do still want to give this place a chance.
Because what an example it could become if solutions can be found that helps all the parties and the fandom affected by this all.
That's all. Again, this is just my opinion, and I want to discuss it if people want to talk about it reasonably.
Please form your own thoughts after watching the stream, and try to keep an open mind. I understand this might drive a lot of people away, but I believe in the heart of what QSMP is.
This server and community are meant to unite people from across the world. Let's give it a chance to continue to do so, eh?
Edit for some clarification ;
I do not blame the admins for doing what they had to. I'm proud of the brave actions they took facing such a massive community head-on.
I just wish it all could have gone down differently, but we can't change the past, only hope for a better future.
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[Here is a transcript of the stream from Twitter, please watch the stream as a priority though]
Edit 2: adding this too
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mylovelies-docx · 6 months
Text
Sorry, I Love You - Part 14 (END)
I AM PUTTING AN END TO YOUR SUFFERING!
Thank you all so much for sticking around for this story! I'll admit I lost steam during my hiatus, but I'm glad I finally found the time to finish this for you guys.
This story took so many twists and turns that I was not expecting - I honestly had nothing after the first few chapters planned, I just let my brain run with whatever it came up with. And it FINALLY wormed its way to a in my opinion satisfactory conclusion.
Hope you all enjoy :)
Plot: You and Bucky have a good thing going - best of friends that also have more than a little chemistry between the sheets. Everything is fine until you develop feelings for the man who doesn't want a relationship. What will happen when Bucky finds out?
C/W: FLUFF, EMOTIONAL HEALING, SMUTTTTTT (in a FWB fic? No way). 18+, MDNI
Word Count: 2,470
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You wake to the feeling of Bucky’s hand gently shaking your shoulder.
“Do you still want a bath? You can always take one tomorrow,” he murmurs to you. 
You hum and nod your head, still determined to wash yourself before crawling under the covers of your bed that you’ve missed oh so much over the last year.
Woah, you think, it’s been a whole year since I left?
You look up into Bucky’s eyes as he hovers over you. There are dark shadows under his eyes now and his hair is shorter than it was this time last year, even if it has grown out in these last few months. His face is weary, tired from his lack of restful sleep, but his eyes are soft as he looks at you. You can see something in his gaze that wasn’t there in all your intimate moments prior to this: there’s something soft, tender, where there used to be only lust.
Your heart beats a staccato rhythm, excited and hopeful at what you think – what you believe – that look means. You reach up, placing one hand on his jaw and swiping your thumb across his cheek.
“Help me?” you ask tentatively.
Bucky’s eyes widen a fraction, and you see his throat bob as he swallows hard. His face crumbles slightly as he looks down at you. “I can get one of the nurses?” he proposes instead. “Or Wanda and Natasha if you’d like.”
You shake your head softly and continue to look into his eyes. “I want you.”
He sucks in a breath before taking you by the hands and gently pulling you to sit up. He slides down onto his knees in front of you and holds your hands tightly between his own, as if he’s afraid that you’ll take them away.
“I…” he starts. “I know there are still some things you don’t remember. People, and places, and events that are missin'. There’s… there’s somethin’ that happened between us – there’s somethin’ I did to us.” His eyes had been on you while saying this, but now he looks down at your clasped hands and starts fiddling with your fingers in nervousness. “I’ve said things to you that I never should have – hurt you in a way that you didn’t deserve. You don’t ever deserve to be hurt. ‘Specially not by me, not by things I say.”
Bucky blows out a breath and looks back up to your eyes. “We were… together. Last year. I asked you for somethin’ that I never should have because I was selfish. And you are so good, such a good person, and you agreed even when it was a bad idea.” 
At this point, you retract one of your hands from Bucky’s grasp, feeling him tighten his hold before letting you go. You place that hand back on Bucky’s cheek, cupping his jaw and feeling the movement as he speaks.
“Then you told me that you liked me,” he breathes. “You told me somethin’ so amazin’ and sweet and somethin’ I should have cherished, but I didn’t. I got mad and I pushed you away – pushed you so far away that you weren’t even on the same continent, doll.” Bucky’s breathing is ragged, but he still looks into your eyes, begging you to see the truth and feelings behind his words. 
“When you came back, I told you I was sorry. But I didn’t get to finish what I’d been plannin’ to say because then you-'' a breath, “then you told me you didn’t love me anymore - that you realized you had never liked me in that way, just got caught up in what we were doin’.” He reaches one hand up and holds onto your wrist. “I was gonna tell you that I felt the same way you did – that I liked you and wanted to try again. But after you said you didn’t have feelin’s for me, I realized I couldn’t do that to you – couldn’t put you through my shit again.”
“Bucky,” you whisper, but he doesn’t let you finish.
“So we went back to bein’ friends and I was just happy to have you back in my life again. Glad that we could talk and hang out like we used to. Then we met Petre on the mission and I – I got jealous.” Bucky bites his lip and shakes his head in agitation at himself, his actions. “I got jealous because you were always with him, because he got to be with you and talk to you. You kept laughin’ at everythin’ he said, smiled at ‘im. And I said more stupid shit, more hurtful things to you. And then…”
Bucky pauses for a moment before moving both his hands to your waist, gripping your hips with one thumb swiping over the part of your shirt that hides the scar on your stomach. “Then you got hurt and I wasn’t there. I wasn’t there to protect you and I almost lost you.” Tears well along his lower lashes, but don’t fall.
“You died,” he whispers. “I had to give you CPR ‘til the rest of the team showed up. Then I just watched you lay there in the jet on the way back. Then your surgeries. Then as you were in and out of a coma for two months. I couldn’t let you out of my sight,” he sighs out. 
Bucky’s arms slide from your waist and go around your back before lowering his head down until his forehead rests on your chest. He continues, words muffled by your body. “I was so afraid you’d disappear again. That you’d leave me and not come back and I could never tell you how sorry I was or how much I love you.”
You circle your arms around him and lean over his body where he’s wrapped around you, heart hurting at the pain you both have been dealing with.
“I know,” you whisper into his hair. “I remember.”
Bucky leans back, looking into your eyes once again. “And you’ve let me do this?” he questions. “Dealt with me not leavin’ you alone and smotherin’ you?”
“You’re not smothering me,” you console, pushing his hair away from his forehead and scratching his scalp. “I missed you so, so much. I just wanted you to hold me like you used to, even if you still didn’t feel the way I do.”
“What do you mean?” he wonders, eyes darting between your own, searching for an answer before you give it.
“I lied,” you say. “I lied when I came back. I just thought it’d be easier on the both of us if I told you what you wanted to hear – that I didn’t like you and that we could go back to being friends.” You smooth the lines that appear on Bucky’s brow as his eyebrows furrow. “I knew I loved you last year. And I still love you – I think I always will.”
“Yeah?”
You smile at the hope in Bucky’s eyes. “Yeah.”
“I love you too, darlin’ – always will,” Bucky mutters as he slowly closes the distance between your faces. “I’m sorry it took me so long to say it.”
You shake your head and continue to smile at him. “You’re worth the wait, Buck.”
Bucky’s lips connect with yours; tentative at first, trying to remember the rhythm the two of you used to have. It comes back quickly, muscle memory working and getting you both reacquainted with one another’s kiss.
You feel Bucky’s hands slide up from your back, caressing your arms, shoulders, neck, before holding onto your face, keeping you in place as he slides his tongue against your lips before slipping it inside your mouth.
You hum at the familiarity of the action. You spread your fingers against Bucky’s chest, feeling his heart beat hard against your touch.
Bucky rises, lips still on yours, and pushes you further onto the bed. He guides you backwards until you’re lying under him, one of his legs between your own. He snakes a hand under your shirt, massaging your breast. You gasp into his mouth when he gives a quick pinch of your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Needing to feel more of you, Bucky removes your shirt and bra so that he can lavish kisses onto your breasts, sucking your nipples into his mouth and tugging gently.
You slide your hands down, down, down his abdomen, hooking your fingers into the waistband of his jeans. You run your index finger against his skin behind the metal button before popping it open and pulling the zipper down. You tug Bucky’s pants until his cock springs free, already hard and hot. You grasp it in your hand, slowly stroking him.
Bucky groans into your mouth, kissing you harder. Without warning, he backs off of the bed. You start to protest at the loss of him, but he just grabs your hips and pulls your leggings and panties off your body in one motion. Cool air caresses your moist folds as Bucky pulls your legs apart. He settles himself between your thighs, mouth leaving a trail of kisses from your knee and down, down, down to your core. He breathes you in before licking a quick swipe up your crease.
You twitch at the sensation, not having been touched by anyone in so long. Your hands grasp Bucky’s hair, pulling him further into you. He uses his fingers to part your folds, delving his tongue into you. You pant helplessly as he works you quickly toward the edge. He remembers exactly how to make you come, and it seems he’s on a mission to make it happen as quickly as possible.
Wetness collects under Bucky’s tongue, dribbling down onto the sheets below you. Before you reach your peak, you try to push Bucky’s face away.
“Bucky - unh,” you cry. “I want you.”
“I’m right here, doll,” he mutters into your core, continuing to lick and thrust his tongue. “I’m not goin’ anywhere.”
“No,” you say. “No, I want you inside me. Please, Bucky.”
Bucky moans into you before leaving one last kiss and crawling up your body. He tugs his shirt over his head and kicks his pants completely off, pulling your legs so that the inside of your knees rest against his hips. He begins to lay down on you, his elbows resting beside your head and chest coming flush with yours, but you wince.
“Gentle, baby,” you plead. “My ribs are still a little sore.”
Bucky immediately rises up and places a soft kiss on your lips. “Of course. I’m sorry, Doll.”
You shake your head and pull his lips back to yours. “Don’t be sorry.” You circle your hands around his waist and tug his hips closer to yours. “Just go easy on me.”
Bucky lines himself up with your entrance and slowly pushes inside, watching your face as your body acclimates to his after so long apart. Your lips part and your breaths come in pants as you slowly open up around Bucky’s girth.
He caresses your face, smoothing your hair back so he can see your face clearly. You catch his eyes as he looks down at you and you give him a happy smile. “I’ve missed you,” you whisper, massaging the back of his neck. 
Bucky slots his lips against yours and kisses you deeply. “I’ve missed you more,” he replies. You both smile into the kiss while you adjust. After a few moments, Bucky pulls away to ask, “are you ready?”
You nod your head and plant your feet more firmly against the mattress, knees still resting against Bucky’s hips. He slowly pulls out inch by inch until the head of his cock is all that’s left. Then, he pushes back into you, the rigid head and veins sliding against your walls and sending pleasure through you. You sigh in content, relishing the feeling of having Bucky inside you again.
Bucky takes his metal arm and pulls one of your hands away from his neck to place it on the mattress, twining your fingers together as he continues to pump slowly in and out of you, making sure to angle himself just right so that he drags against your walls where you need. 
You make love slow and gentle, neither of you in a rush. You take your time touching each other’s bodies again, exploring the places your hands and mouths still remember. Bucky kisses your jaw and down the side of your neck, suckling on the tender spot just above your collarbone. 
You arch your neck backwards to give him more room, but he takes the opportunity to untwine your fingers and move his metal hand between your bodies, cool thumb making circles around your clit. You release a whine, your body stiffening up as the coil inside you tightens and then dissolves, sending waves of pleasure tingling along your nerves. Your walls flutter and pulse around Bucky’s shaft and he grunts softly at the pressure, the vibration of the noise tickling your neck where his lips still rest.
You grab his face in both hands and bring him back up to you. You pepper his face with languid kisses – his forehead, cheeks, nose, eyelids, and finally his lips. You lick the inside of his mouth, your tongues sliding against one another. 
Bucky gently bites your lower lip and sucks it into his mouth to soothe it. He continues to thrust into you, your body still tingling from your first orgasm and swiftly approaching the next. You start to quake in Bucky’s arm from the overstimulation, but you still yearn for him. You begin to gasp and whimper, the noise rising involuntarily from you. 
Bucky kisses you one more time and moves his hand to the small of your back, raising your hips up to meet his. You keen at the new angle, toes starting to curl.
“You got one more for me, doll?” Bucky gasps. “Come on, pretty girl. Come for me.”
Your body heeds Bucky’s command, shivering around his cock once more. Feeling your pussy gripping him so tight, Bucky comes with you, his warm seed coating your walls and seeping out of you.
You lie together for long moments, staring into each other’s eyes and breathing deeply, lips connecting every few seconds for more kisses. Bucky lifts you up, cock still buried inside you, and turns so that you’re lying on top of him. Your legs straddle his waist and your head rests on his chest, listening to the thud of his heart. 
You lay there until you’re almost asleep, but Bucky kisses your head and picks you up to carry you to the ensuite, where he re-runs the bath with hot water and another lavender bath bomb. He places you down into the steaming water and climbs in behind you, where he takes his time lathering you up and washing your hair. You lean into him and surrender to the affection.
After you’re clean, he dries you off and slips his t-shirt over your head. He carries you back to bed and pulls the blanket over your body before sliding in beside you and pulling you on top of him once again. He places one hand in your hair to massage your scalp while the other smoothes over your back. 
You both lay together in a contented, blissful quiet. You fall asleep with the knowledge that whatever comes your way, you and Bucky will work through it.
Together.
Fin
Tag list: @jackiehollanderr @rabbitrabbit12321 @12345sebby @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @lauraashley93 @themorningsunshine @happinessinthebeing @nash-dara @calwitch @stany0url0calwh0res111 @pono-pura-vida @learisa @introverbatim @kentokaze @marvelogic @kaz11283
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genericpuff · 2 months
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Not related to lore Olympus but this discussion seems a bit uhh strange. Some of the comments are calling Mattie bites a right woman hater. If you don't believe me,check this out.
https://www.reddit.com/r/webtoons/s/4zaDi6fWos
god okay I feel like I'm opening Pandora's Box with this shit but I have lots to say about it so... yeah fuck it, let's do this, I'm brave-
So I can absolutely agree with OP's sentiment that BlackLightJack's content has become uh... more aggressive and mean-spirited , and don't get me wrong, that was always sort of his vibe, but now it feels like he's straight up just weaponizing his fanbase and like... y'all know how curt I get about LO here, I can be a real asshole about it, even I think what BLJ is doing feels really shitty, immature, and frankly just uninformed? Because most of his videos are just him pout-screaming profanities into the microphone, like I know this is gonna sound nitpicky and petty but I can literally hear it in his voice that he's enunciating his words the same way an 8 year old would so that spit would land on the person they're yelling at ("STOOOOOOOOO-PPP-UHHHHH") and lately his content just feels like what it used to feel like being in CoD lobbies back in the day. Him having the name 'webtoon killer' just gives me such a sour taste in my mouth. Like... this feels like some kind of Batman villain in the making LMAO
But maybe no one wants to hear that opinion from someone like me who's literally called themselves the "far superior off brand" as a gag LMAO and that's fine honestly if you think I'm full of shit, this is also just my opinion!
But like... and I know I'm being an asshole going 'b-but-!' but... BLJ is also building an entire ass monetized platform off his vibe and using that platform to specifically go after Canvas series and creators. And let me tell you, while many would argue "well it's just the webtoons that are grossly negligent / breaking Webtoons' ToS / etc.", his fanbase is also constantly just sending him new comics to read and trash on and I feel like it's only a matter of time before he goes after a completely innocent creator whose only crime was being not great at webcomics which... shouldn't be viewed as a default crime punishable by pitchforks. That sorta already happened with the Fulcagay situation, I don't know Fulcagay and he almost definitely wouldn't know me, but he's a fellow Canvas creator who I've run into and shared a space with, and BLJ's original comments about him just felt incredibly off-base and volatile without giving even a shred of benefit of the doubt. I get the sense BLJ doesn't know about Hanlon's razor ("Never attribute to malice that which is adequately explained by stupidity") because EVERY video he does about every comic and creator he's addressing assumes maliciousness always.
This is the same shit we got with Youtube creators like Leafy who became infamous for just taking the piss out of everyone until they took it too far. Like, take it from me, it can be VERY easy to get so entrenched in being an asshole and taking the piss out of everything that completely innocent people get hit with splash damage, and if you're not willing to take responsibility for that, then you're gonna look like a bigger dick than the people you were aiming for. This pee analogy working for y'all? 😆
As for what Matty Bites has to do with that, I don't really get it? Like maybe I'm just misinformed here, maybe I haven't watched enough of her stuff, but she's never given me anywhere near the amount of red flags I get off listening to even one episode of BLJ. Matty feels like someone who actually reads and analyzes and researches the stuff she's criticizing in a way that's relatively harmless with her own flair sprinkled in (and her humor is hilarious btw, her opening skits are great LOL); BLJ meanwhile feels like he's constantly one opinion away from starting a #victimofcancelculture campaign because he's just trying to be as edgy and angry as possible LMAO (and ironically they're both often criticizing the same thing, but it goes to show how delivery makes a hell of a difference when it comes to dishing out criticism)
All that said, if there is something with Matty Bites that I'm missing here, I'm fully open to being informed because I haven't watched many of her videos and there could just as well be something that I've missed. But I don't think she's anywhere near as hostile as BLJ tends to be, I don't think Matty Bites' comedic video editing and sassy commentary has ever resulted in creators actually being attacked and bullied like BLJ's have.
Overall I think anyone who builds a platform or audience off criticizing content (and this includes me!) needs to practice responsibility and accountability in what they put out and what they choose to focus on and criticize. It can be really easy to accidentally use "criticism" as a get-out-of-jail-free card to just be a bully. It can be really easy to wind up leaving your criticism so unrefined and surface level without any deeper reflection that you never actually open your mind to anything and you just end up echoing out hate speech without even intending to. And it can be really, really easy to ruin your own palate from willingly consuming nothing but shit all day.
Just to quote some very famous words from a fictional character that absolutely apply here:
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motheatenscarf · 5 months
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Amidst all the James Somerton fallout, I think it's important to remember not to moralize whether or not you or others fell for his grift.
Obviously, if you were rallied into being one of his attack dogs on social media when he put some pretty heinous hits out on people, uh. You might have other problems and should probably evaluate how you spend your time online and how you treat other people before you start caring about the rest of the points I'm about to make. Priorities, etc.
But for the rest of us, it's surprisingly easy to miss just how awful a creator can be.
If you only watched his videos that caught your interest, if you don't really follow creators on social media, if you skip livestreams because watching Some Guy talk unfiltered into a bad camera angle with shitty lighting for hours on end sounds like a fucking nightmare to you, you're not really gonna catch most of this shit. At least, you're not gonna catch most of it from any perspective but the one he tries to spin.
This is a reminder to be skeptical and to trust your gut and check sources if something sounds wrong, but also. Uh. That's still the creator's responsibility not to plagiarize and to fact check their work. You're not morally obligated to be as thorough in curating your experience as someone who is making sure they take every ethical precaution before absolutely destroying a "creator's" credibility in a video like H-Bomb's or Todd in the Shadows'. You're literally just some guy. Most people, myself included, watch these videos as background noise while doing at minimum one other task, you're not gonna google every damn thing he says, especially not on media analysis, where the POINT is to have one's own opinion. THEY'RE the ones trying to be "influencers," or, laughably, "creators." The standards are on them.
And for the isms, phobias, and misogyny, well. Frankly, for my own perspective, I gaslight myself all the damn time when I see red flags. Good Allyship™ has been telling me for years to ignore my own discomfort when someone criticizes a privileged group, especially one I'm a part of. I'm a cis asexual white-passing and probably neuroatypical woman, I am constantly trying to be aware of my own relative privilege while simultaneously doubting my own reaction to things. Despite this, I'd still liked to think I'm a skeptical person, but nobody's immune to everything. Everybody has weak spots.
If you got duped or fell for James' scam, that sucks. I feel ya. I fell for it too, I've seen probably 40% of his catalog over the last couple years and really liked what I'd seen. I recommended his channel and videos to people even if I didn't always agree with every point he made, but it felt important to at least consider what to me seemed like a unique perspective that had value or added to a conversation. There are red flags within his content, his analysis, his rate of publishing, his weird diatribes, that in retrospect, really all added up into things I should have known better than to ignore. But, for reasons I'm interrogating and am adding to my list of things to be aware of about myself, I didn't ignore them, and got grifted. I donated to his patreon a few times, probably gave him like $20 grand total over the years, about as much as I've given H Bomb. The important take away here isn't to be ashamed of the fact that you were fooled, it's to remember that you're fallible.
And it's good to recognize that about yourself. Everyone is, and the ones who say they aren't are lying. They're either gonna be the next person to feel really stupid and foolish when they fall for a scam, or are themselves the grifter.
No one is immune.
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sebscore · 2 years
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BROTHER DUTIES | CHARLES LECLERC 
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pairing: charles leclerc x sister!reader 
warnings: harassment. swearing. barking of a dog. 
word count: 1.8k 
author's note: reader is a teenager. feedback and requests are always welcome. 
• • • • • • •
''Charles, bring your sister to school and take Cinnamon with you. '' His mother yelled from downstairs. The young man groaned but got up from his desk anyway, knowing better than to ignore his mom's wishes. 
The Leclerc Family had been babysitting the dog from a friend of theirs, who was on a two-week trip to North America. He had asked the family if they would take his dog, Cinnamon, in for those two weeks and they had happily agreed. Cinnamon was a bulldog, who despite her appearance, was a very sweet and affectionate creature. The Leclerc siblings had gotten along great with the dog, especially their youngest, Y/N. She had always wanted a pet, but they move around a lot for Charles and Arthur's races and their mother doesn't want to put that kind of pressure on an animal. 
''Can't Enzo do it? I'm in the middle of a game, Maman.'' Charles complained walking into the kitchen, where his sister and mom were eating their breakfast. His mother gave him a stern look. ''He's not home and you should get out of your room for once.'' 
He sighed, but nodded anyway. ''Alright, I'll go get Cinnamon then.'' Charles left the kitchen in search of the dog, while also grabbing her collar. 
''Are you done, Chérie?'' Pascale asked the young girl, moving some strands out of her daughter's face. ''Yes, I'm done.'' Y/N got up from her chair and put her plate in the dishwasher. 
Charles walked back into the kitchen with Cinnamon on a collar. ''Ready to go, little monster?'' He asked his sister, all ready to leave the house. ''Charles, don't call me that, it's embarrassing.'' Y/N said, slapping her brother's arm. 
She grabbed her backpack and walked up to their mother. ''See you later, Maman.'' The youngest bid goodbye to her mother with a kiss on the cheek. Charles did the same after and the two Leclercs were out the door. 
''Did you have a lot of homework?'' Charles started the conversation. It had been a while since he and his baby sister had spent alone time together. She couldn't join him at most of his races, since she still went to school in Monaco and their mother didn't want her to abandon her education. In his opinion, he hadn't been a good older brother to her and he realized he should take this oppurtunity to catch up with her. 
Y/N shook her head, finding it amusing that Charles wanted to know about her homework. ''I just have a math test today.'' She answered him, while looking at Cinnamon. 
''Oh, well, you're good at math, that shouldn't be too hard.'' Out of all the things he could have started talking about, he asked about school aka the last thing teenagers want to talk about.
Y/N laughed out loud, not able to hold it in. ''Charles, you're so bad at talking.'' She teased her older brother. ''Hey, I'm not bad!'' He defended himself. 
''You keep telling yourself that,'' she told him, ''hey, can we stop by the kiosk?'' There was this kiosk a few minutes away from her school where students often bought their food and drinks. Charles looked at her in confusion. ''Why? You just had breakfast?'' 
''I just want a smoothie, Charles.'' She didn't wait for his reply and walked to the kiosk, Charles trailing behind her with Cinnamon. ''Hey, don't just walk away on your own like that.'' 
''I just remembered I forgot my wallet at home,'' she feigned innocence, ''do you mind paying?'' By the end of her sentence she had looked at him with doe-eyes, knowing it would work on him. 
He knew exactly what she was doing, but who was he to say no to a face like hers? ''Like I was going to let you pay anyway.'' He said, while pulling out his wallet from his pants. 
Y/N ordered what she wanted and waited by the space where they handed out the drinks, meanwhile Charles waited to pay. 
While he was busy texting someone back, he failed to notice the older man approaching the place next to his sister's. Charles also failed to notice the man inappropriately touching his sister. 
Y/N was in her own world, waiting for her smoothie to be handed over to her. She was pulled out of her trance when she felt someone's hand on her butt. She looked up to see the man giving her a smirk, before taking a few steps back. 
She was too shocked to say anything back to the man, standing in silence for a few seconds. She looked over at Charles who was just done paying for her drink. 
''Charles, that man just touched me.'' Y/N told him in a hushed tone, not wanting to make a big scene. ''What?'' His head swiftly turned to her, not believing what he was hearing. ''That guy who's sitting on the bench, he grabbed my ass.'' Her eyes started watering, feeling dirty from the creepy man's unwanted touch. 
Charles took a look at the man who was just checking out a woman coming out of her car. He was absolutely disgusted by this man's behavior. ''Wait for one second, here,'' he handed her Cinnamon's collar, ''I'll be right back.'' 
Before he could fully step away from her, she grabbed his arm. ''Charles, no, it's not worth it, we can just go.'' 
''No, Y/N! It's not okay that he did that and I'm gonna tell him that,'' Charles put his hand on her shoulder, ''you stay here with Cinnamon, your drink is almost ready.'' With that he turned around and walked up to the man. 
''Did you just touch my sister?'' Charles went straight to the point, not planning on upholding his ''nice guy'' demeanor. ''Your sister? I don't know what you're talking about, man.'' The smirk the man had on his face, pissed Charles off. It was as if he was proud that he had harassed someone. 
''Don't play pretend, you fucking touched my sister.'' Charles continued, not backing down when it came to his family. The man stood up from the bench. ''I don't know what the fuck you're talking about, little man.'' He was significantly taller than Charles, but that didn't intimidate the young Monegasque. 
''Apologize to my baby sister, you asshole.'' The man seemed to have the temperament of a toddler, because in a matter of seconds he grabbed Charles' shoulders and pushed him away, resulting in Charles almost falling to the ground. 
The man was about to continue, but Cinnamon came to his aid. She had been carefully watching the two interact and when the creep pushed Charles, she reacted quickly. Y/N didn't expect the dog to run towards her older brother and she wasn't able to hold on to her collar. ''Cinnamon!'' 
The dog didn't attack the man, but her barking was enough for him to take a couple of steps back and eventually walk away entirely. 
''Charles, are you okay?'' Y/N put her smoothie on the counter and ran to her brother, who had quickly grabbed Cinnamon's collar, so she couldn't potentially attack the man. 
Upon seeing his sister, he hugged the young girl. ''I'm fine, little one,'' he pulled back, but kept his free arm around her, ''you know, how about we go home?'' He suggested. 
''I don't know, Charles.'' She was hesitant about skipping school, not sure if it was a good idea or not. ''We're gonna go home, I'm sure Maman won't mind when we tell her what happened.'' He guided her back into the direction of their home, wanting to get away from the place as fast as possible. 
''Wait, don't forget your drink.'' 
◦◦◦
Pascale was confused as she heard her daughter back in the house. ''Y/N? Why aren't you at school?'' Her mother was about to start scolding the young girl for not going to school, but upon seeing her daughter's facial expression, she ran to get her girl in her arms. ''What happened, Chérie?'' 
''Some creep touched her, Maman!'' Charles exclaimed, taking the collar off Cinnamon. ''What do you mean someone touched her?'' Pascale took Y/N's face in her hands, observing if her daughter had anything on her face that indicated she got hurt or something. 
''Come here, my girl.'' Her mother engulfed her in a hug, feeling all the relief that she didn't seem to be physically hurt. ''I feel so dirty, Maman, he was so gross.'' Being in her mother's arms seemed to make all the emotions come undone in the young girl. Charles joined them, wrapping his arms around to two women he loved most in the world. 
''Go take a shower, Chérie. You'll feel much better after.'' Her mother urged her, pulling away from her embrace. ''Okay.'' With a kiss from her mom and Charles, she made her way to the bathroom. 
Charles could see his mother was distraught, so he pulled her in his arms. ''Don't worry, Maman. We'll keep her safe.'' 
Pascale loved all of her four children, but her baby girl will always have a special place in her heart. She adores her three boys, but she wanted nothing more in the world than to have a little girl that she could pamper for the rest of her life. So, when Y/N was born, it was like the gods had listened to her prayers. Their parents thought that the boys would have a problem with having a little sister, but as soon as Lorenzo, Charles and Arthur had held the newborn in their arms, all those worries went away. Her brothers would protect her with their lives. 
Y/N went to bed earlier than usual that night, reveling in the comfort of her own room. The other two brothers had been informed about the events of that day and Pascale had told them to give their younger sister some space. 
Charles was about to go into his own room, but he couldn't help but want to check up on her. He knocked on her door, but he didn't hear an answer, he figured she had already gone to bed. He quietly opened the door and saw her laying in her bed, but she turned around upon hearing her door open. 
''Hey,'' Charles sat himself down on her bed, ''how are you feeling?'' Y/N shrugged her shoulders, not really knowing how she felt about the situation. ''I don't know.'' 
''That's okay, that happens sometimes.'' He wanted her to know that whatever she was feeling, it was valid. She could feel however she wanted to feel. 
''Thank you for standing up for me, Charles.'' Her voice came out smaller than she wanted to, it made her feel low. ''You don't have to thank me for that, you're my sister.'' He jokingly squeezed her cheek, trying to make her feel a bit better. 
''Still, I really appreciate it.'' He could see in the way she was looking at him that she was grateful for his presence and for how he had stood up for her to the man. ''Go to sleep, Chérie, I'll see you tomorrow.'' Charles kissed her forehead and stood up from her bed. ''I love you.'' 
''I love you too.'' 
• • • • • • •
the first fic that I've written for charles. he's so precious, I can't.
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night-market-if · 18 days
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Helloo, while I agree with you that Milo is also a victim, I also think that the other anons are also justified in feeling that way about him. I'm really sorry if I'm wrong, but the way you reply to other people's thoughts, about things that you don't have the same opinion on, feels like you're telling them that they are wrong to feel that way.
Let's unpack this for a minute. Because I think this is a great opportunity.
I am not invalidating that anyone has an opinion. They are allowed to have an opinion. And, if they approached me like you just did, I would most likely respond to that opinion in a constructive way. But someone messaging me and just throwing out a random feeling they have that is negative, and then getting mad at me in return when I don't agree with them, is childish. I will not be apologizing for that because most of the people that are "angry" about something, come at me in a really negative context. And then when I state something differently (without attacking them even) they get irrationally upset. I mean, a prime example is me saying that Milo is also a victim. That there can be more than one victim. I then got a response saying I was the one flying off the handle. Following that was another response telling me that I am a hated author. That my game is terrible. That I am a bad person. I mean, think about that for a minute here. Does the response corelate with what I said? Does it warrant that? No.
People are always valid to have an opinion, but there are two things to say about it. Most of the time, the people coming at me, are internet trolls. Not actual readers. And I'm sorry, we were indoctrinated at a young age to "ignore the bullies" and I just don't think that is the right response. Because now we have a generation that ignored the bullies and they got way worse because no one had a social contract to call them out.
Two, the ones that are not trolls, are lacking a lot of media literacy. That is actually an extreme problem within our society. And, since I am the author, it is my job to offer what I was trying to say within my story. That may not align with someone's opinion. But me having my own opinion, does not warrant someone getting mad at me. I didn't get mad at them so why am I suddenly greeted with toxicity.
I get where you are coming from saying that people are allowed to have their own opinion. And I have stated over and over again that everyone is valid for it. I'm not even saying for someone to change their mind or go away. But, someone else's opinion does not invalidate my own. Just as my own does not invalidate theirs. And if someone feels like it does, and this is going to sound cruel, but it is not my responsibility to regulate that for them. That most likely stems from a personal standpoint. I am not responsible for someone being offended by what I have to say about my own story and my own fictional characters. You don't see me coming on here and crying out that someone on anon made me "feel bad". That's not a thing.
There is a difference between just saying something out loud and engaging in a conversation. Constructive criticism is where you offer a opinion, give why you are offering it, and then explain how it does or does not work for the narrative. Then, I can come back, ask questions, respond with what maybe I was intending, and figure out a better way to get what I was intending across.
Non constructive criticism is just coming to me as an anon, and saying they are angry and want to hurt someone. Or that they don't like something of my story without giving why.
To further some points. Milo is a triggering character. I knew this from the beginning. The things that he did is not for the faint of heart and speaks to betrayal. And a lot of people who have been in a situation where they feel betrayed, are going to respond negatively to that. But, that is on them. That is for them to work through and own. It is not the responsibility of my story to change because of that. And coming on to say that you hate a character and want to harm them. Or coming on to say that I'm a bad writer. Or even coming on to say that I'm hated on reddit (to which I say, isn't everyone?) is providing nothing to this community, world, or our author reader relationship. It is done solely with the intent to try and hurt someone because the reader themselves was hurt.
To end this, I am going to make this statement. Telling me it "feels" like I am telling someone they are wrong is based in a personal feeling towards a situation. It is not based in facts. It is not based in anything that I have said. And while everyone has a right to their opinion, just because I am an author and a content creator, does not mean I don't get to defend my story or my characters. If I was being racists, sexist, transphobic? All things to come at someone for. But because I wrote something that makes people angry and they don't want to continue going on a journey with the characters and would rather just block their minds to character growth? I can't do anything about that. If there is no conversation they want to engage in, if they simply want to come on and troll me, then they need to not be surprised when I treat them the same way they are treating me.
I hope this makes more sense and provides some understanding.
Zinnia
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cauliplea · 1 month
Text
YANDERE!RATIO HEADCANONS!
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Authors Note: Starting this off with an apology because I have lost the request for this. (I'm not good with Tumblr.) I also apologize for being away for so long; I just didn't feel like writing. As the name suggests, this is all the headcanons me and my beta reader (Dandelion) have come up with. Please enjoy. 
I do love yandere stuff; however, the anon requested Angst headcanons, but I'm not sure how to make this angsty since they're headcanons, so here are some general headcanons:
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☆ At first he'd be confused about his feelings; the man knows the textbook definition of love, not the actual emotion, especially not when it's the unhealthy kind. 
☆ After the initial shock, the next stage is denial. No matter how much he tries to reject his feelings, he can't help the way his eyes follow you every time and how his thoughts are filled with you. 
☆ his obsession would start off small, just watching your every move and keeping mental notes of your schedule, but soon the mental thoughts manifested themselves into an actual book only for his eyes to see. 
☆  He finds it cute but also so frustrating how oblivious you are to his advances; he could gauge out his heart and hand it to you, yet you'd still look at him in a dumbfounded way. 
☆ This man is obsessed with knowledge; he knows you better than you know yourself. your friends? He has already researched all of them and made sure they wouldn't get in his way. You have to go somewhere? He's already following you from behind and making sure you don't get into any accidents.
☆ However, if you did get in an accident, he's the type of person to scold you while bandaging your wounds. Outside, his brows might be furrowed and his voice might be sharp, but inside, his heart is racing at the opportunity of feeling your skin. 
☆ He is very possessive; he doesn't like people touching his belongings, and that includes you. literally. If anyone ever tried taking you away from him, he would immediately get them in trouble. He won't do it directly; oh no, he can't risk his reputation like that. The man might be head over heels for you, but he still cares about his image. 
☆ He wouldn't kill or injure people. 
Unless it's absolutely necessary, it's a waste of time, and he doesn't want to dirty his hands. The method he uses to get them out of the picture is to get them expelled or suspended. (Bad comparison, I know, but it's like the expelling method in yandere simulator.) The teachers trust him, so they take his words as fact.
☆ if that doesn't work, he'd dig up dirt on the person and badmouth them until you subconsciously start avoiding them, or belittle the person to the point of insecurity until they leave you alone. cruel, I know, but that's how yanderes are. 
☆ if he had to result in violence, then he wouldn't have to do much; just one hit with his book is enough to knock a man down. With his knowledge of science, he wouldn't leave any evidence behind either. 
☆ he'd insult your intelligence in classes and then propose the idea of letting him tutor you, begging himself in his head that you'd agree. And in those said tutoring lessons, you can practically count how many times he "accidentally" touched your hand while correcting your mistakes.
☆ he'd love taking photos of you; the book he had of you would contain a lot of them, but he doesn't stop at photos, he'd make an entire statue of you to admire it. 
☆ personal opinion, but I think this many would be into body worship; he recognizes beauty, and he'd be on his knees for you, but he also wants the same treatment for himself. 
☆ the way he'd confess would be perfect— too perfect, actually. He has done so much research that he knows exactly how you'd want to get asked out and where. He'd play out your fantasies as if it were a stage play to make sure you'd fall in love with him even if you weren't earlier. 
☆ His obsession wouldn't waver at all when you two got into a relationship— quite the opposite. He loves the idea that he could now take photos of you freely and admire your actual body rather than a mere stone replacement of you. 
☆ his jealousy would worsen too, but he would never dare to hurt you in any way; he'd rather bang his head against the wall repeatedly than lay a hand on you. He rather takes his jealousy out in more tame ways, like wrapping his arm around your waist or standing ominously behind you and glaring at the person, even though he hates PDA. 
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Author's note (again): I feel like I might turn this into a series. I do deeply apologize if this wasn't what you wanted, Anon. Please feel free to submit again. <3
P.S: Is it obvious in starting to get rid of doing the whole "eye-pleasing aesthetic" thing?
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Cauliplea On Ao3.
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♡ Imagine Thoma absolutely adores you... a little too much ♡
!● Warnings: starts soft, worshipping, smut, no real plot (sry), nsfw, NO MINOR ❌ or I'll eat u alive, calling u princess/love, face sitting, female recieving, fem!reader
Note: I would eat up Thoma, he's so perfect 😭💞 I mean look at him, just a perfect man.
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"Thoma?"
Your voice echoed through the apartment where you and him lived now for some time. It was crazy how you guys end up being together and now sharing one apartment together. Sometimes it makes your heart fill with so much warmth knowing Thoma is always there for you. You heard steps inside the kitchen and some rumbles before Thoma said back: "Here, my love!"
Before you could enter the kitchen his head pooped out the door frame and greeted you with the biggest and warmest smile. The more you saw his body, the more you saw him using tools for baking. You still leaned forwards and wanted to give him a kiss. Thoma noticed it quickly and gave you a soft kiss. You could melt right away how soft as a kisser he is. The kiss could go longer in your opinion but Thoma itself backed up a bit.
"I'm almost finished with the pastry for the cookies. I bet my princess can wait for me, right?~"
You pouted at his question but didn't make any protest to not listen to him and just sat down the kitchen table. "Great~" Another kiss on the head this time while Thoma finishes his work. Your day wasn't that bad at all especially if you could watch your boyfriend bake. For some reason Thoma started to bake faster than before. "Hehe, you know I missed you while you were away~" You listen to him while resting your head on the table. You answer him: "I did miss you too. Can we cuddle when you are done?~" Thoma excitedly agreed to the cuddle session.
Finally both of you were now under the blanket inside the bed. Thoma held you from behind, perfect to wrap his arms around your body while his face was on your shoulder, giving here and there some kisses. Your body automatically squeezed towards Thoma's warm body. A little whine came out of Thoma. "Ha... babe we just wanted to cuddle right?" He wasn't expecting more than that neither was it your intention but somehow you could feel him hardening under your friction. "Sorry~ I can stop if you want to" You tried to look at him but it was hard in that position so you could only hear him whisper into your ear. "No... please continue..." Heat rising inside him made his face flush in a beautiful red colour. You couldn't see his expression but his little whimpers near your ear was enough to rile you up. "I missed you...", he whispered.
Of course you didn't stopped grinding your ass on his clothed length. You could feel with every grind how needy Thoma is getting as well as you but this time you didn't wanted to give up. It would be a little challenge to make him just cum like this. "Fuck" He couldn't take this position anymore and let go of the embrace. For a split second you shivered from the sudden cold since he also got rid of the blanket and now turning you around. Seeing him with a painful huge bulge in his pants and a face of lust, you know both of you will have a long night ahead.
"You make me crazy, (y/n). Even a little touch wants me eat you." With a warm smile you spread your legs for him and rubbed on your clothed pussy. For some reason you heard an aww moan from him before you could feel him undressing you, so he could burry his face between your tights. His tounge meeting right away the right spots. Thoma started playing with one hand carefully inside your pussy while he couldn't get enough of sucking your cilt. Your moans and breaths getting harder and louder with more friction he did. Holding tight on the bedsheets beside you. "I am close, Thoma~" So was he too. While eating you out he rubbed his clothed length against the bed. With his moaning and vibrating voice against your pussy you soon enough came over his face. His tounge searching for every drip you gave him. For some reason he stopped eating you out and panting against your tights, still rutting himself against the bed. "Sit on me... (y/n)... please, I need you.", he begged for you. Even tho you just came seeing him breathing against your hot pussy it made you blush hard. You nod and let him take your position. He was underneath you while you sink down on Thoma who was eagerly opening his mouth to meet your pussy again. As his tounge meet again your folds you let out a sigh and shiver from the overwhelming feeling. Looking behind you while Thoma sucked and moaning against your pussy you noticed how painfully his bulge looked. "T-thoma~" His sudden action on putting his tounge inside of you made you jump. You tried to balance yourself not too much on him but Thoma gripped your ass cheeks harder and pushed you down even more. "W-wait!" His tounge now angrily playing with you you felt your second orgasm building up. You started rubbing on his mouth to meet his tounge play before cumming on his face again. WIthout you noticing he came inside his pants. He lifted you a bit up so he could breath a bit before kissing your tights. "I love you so much, (y/n)" You looked down on him. He looked so messy with all your nectar around his mouth and on his face. It made you blush in embarrassment. "I l-love you too Thoma." You lay down beside him and hugged him tight. You licked his cheek and got a giggle out of him. "Ah don't worry about cleaning me, love. I want to be laying a bit here with you~" And with that you saw into his dimmed and with lust filled eyes knowing well this wasn't your last orgasm for this night.
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skyeslittlecorner · 3 months
Note
can you post some photos on chapter five? ive been struggling to get to it and im impatient if ykwim 😭😭
Don't worry anon, I got you covered! Let's break this chapter for three parts - one for story and for one for both H-scenes. There are a lot of things to look forward to~
Warning: HEAVY SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT. In fact, I'll try to shorten the whole thing and focus on plot-relevant facts, so for those who want to go through chapter 5 on their own, come back when you're done! (Or just skip to h-scene, they are marked.)
Ch5 - STORY
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First, I would like to warn that my opinion about it may be unpopular. As someone who hadn't paid much attention to Hades before, I fell in love with it after this episode. I adore ch5. A lot of people hate these boys to the core for what they did, and I understand and respect their opinion, but I'm with Hades here. I would love to analyze their behavior in more detail, but we don't have time for that today.
Summarizing this chapter is going to be hard because a lot of things happened. Let's go!
We start by going down a slide sponsored by Leviathan and his Lovecraftian friends (TM). But worry not! It seems we have friends even in the realm of death. Say hello to grandpa!
We talk a little, being in a questionable mood. Well, who wouldn't be? But we have the opportunity to know Solomon better, and I'm getting to understand why all devils love him. By the way, it turns out that we are his last descendant.
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Sorry Solomon, you're still a peepaw.
He also advises us not to be afraid of Leviathan and not to be submissive to him, and then in a brilliant way he sends us back to the world of the living. Of course, our beautiful king is delighted.
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We take Grandpa's advice to heart and finally stand up to Levi. He's surprised, but he doesn't try to kill us again (for now). We witness him hanging one of his subjects, who dared to ask about an accident from 311 years ago.
Fun fact. Devils must have much stronger spines. Do you know how people used to die by hanging? The first methods involved cutting off oxygen, but later they involved into breaking the cervical spine and this was considered a standard hanging execution. Leviathan must be gentle (how bad it sounds in this context), he could kill instantly with a loop like that.
Back to the point. We find out that we also have a noose around our neck, and Leviathan makes use of it. We're hanging, but we finally begin to meet Leviathan's nobles one by one.
Glasyal plots (and ends up hanging for it), Foras argues with him, along the way we learn that Leviathan needs us in his plan, and, you know, maybe killing us isn't the smartest thing he can do. Only Barbatos realizes that maybe it's a good idea to stop hanging us like wet laundry. He's the only one so openly nice to us.
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Remember that.
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Another fun fact, our MC is of medium height (~160 cm I guess). Leviathan is 187cm, Foras should be similar. I only noticed this because I myself am 180 cm so they are not so strappingly tall for me.
Foras wants to take us away from Levi and explain everything calmly, but the king does not agree. We learn that the guys know where the seed from the Tree of Knowledge is. We're supposed to go with them, and we have about a 50/50 chance of survival. Also, we have the opportunity to see a very rare phenomenon, a joking Leviathan.
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Sweetie.
Colossally shortening the rest, the cavalry arrives! You didn't have to. I haven't had time to fuck them yet.
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And this cavalry is very much at odds with the nobles of Hades. Most of the time is them arguing. Fortunately, they didn't kill each other…
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...because Barbie decided to kill us.
Barbatos is poisoning us to force Bimet and Valefor to join the plan. While we are unconscious, we have flashes of Leviathan's past, which is too sad to analyze considering that we are about to jump to hot scenes now. Besides, most of us already know what this is about. Experience it for yourself. Really. We also learn that not only angels experimented on children, and a little about Mammon's childhood.
In the end, we learn that in Ch6 we must visit the abandoned laboratory in Tartaros, where the seed from the tree of knowledge should be, because as Solomon's descendants, we may be the only ones who will not be killed by it.
Ch5 - VALEFOR H-SCENE
(I really wanted to post CG from Valefor's scene here, but I don't know if Tumblr will block it.)
TIME FOR DESSERT!
Bimet is the first to realize that we lack devil energy. He wants to take care of it, but Valefor brushes him off, sends him to scout, and overall Bimet is our wingman, what a bro lol
Since we are away from Satan and Gehenna, we cannot summon Minhyeok's room. MC thinks she's outgrown it anyway. So we can count on the next scenes to be more and more creative.
It all starts with us telling Valefor that he reminds us of Mammon. And what a beast it brings out of him.
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And he loves it.
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...aaand then, someone wants to interrupt. Bimet informs us about this and goes to chase them out. Valefor stands with us at the door to see if anyone else is coming. Yes. Naked. With us. In us.
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Fortunately, no one catches us and after the entire session we fall asleep in our knight's arms.
I really would like to do more screenshots, but tumblr is blocked… and there's one more part to come.
Ch5 - LEVIATHAN H-SCENE
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At least you look beautiful and the platform won't block you.
And here's what I love the most. It was sick. I'd love to experience it again.
I would love to make a whole post ONLY about this and just leave the screenshots.
We are in Leviathan's office, and he interrogates us when we feel like we are lacking devil energy. We want to go to Bimet, but do you think our jealous king will allow it? Oh no no no. And of course, his hands land on our chin and then our neck. He doesn't like our hickeys.
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We start asking him valid questions like "why are you jealous of us if you hate us?" So he silences us with a kiss. A deep, suffocating kiss. This is also how Leviathan discovers that we gain their energy through "intercourse with the devil".
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And how can I not fall in love with this idiot.
The conversation that follows gives us some light on his approach to sex and to relationships in general. Which is… sad. It fits him perfectly, but it's sad. And I would also like to analyze this someday, this character is beautiful and how he's written is even more beautiful, especially from writer's point of view. He does not want the admiration of his people or the hatred of angels. The only thing he can believe and consider to be sincere is that someone's dislike. This is something that might actually turn him on.
At first he rules, he asks questions and he hangs us. And he does everything he can to piss us off. He hands us a whip and lowers us down.
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Just disliking him isn't enough, and he works diligently to make us hate him. He insults Minhyeok, us, wishes us dead, and the more he sees our anger, the more he gets excited and talks more. He knows that we are connected to Satan and we will know how to release our anger. On him.
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He finally got what he wanted. We straddle him and, with the help of Satan's strength, begin to strangle him. Neither you nor he are gentle.
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Also, his words (unfortunately, I already have a limit on screenshots). "Do not bite your lips. Bite mine instead." I beg, let me violate him even more.
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Compliment from Leviathan, nice. In the end, we fall asleep cuddled up to him, and he has no intention of giving us up to anyone. As in the case of Sitri, he only opens up to us when we are so unconscious that we do not see his softer side.
꧁:・ ✡ ・:꧂
AND THATS ALL! What a ride it was, I hope I was a good guide. One day I will go into the Hades boys in more depth, but for now, let this be a shortcut for everyone who is still struggling with ch5.
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