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natriae · 1 year

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Dad!haikyuu is everything! I imagine Omi being your fake date to a family gathering and he swoons at your interaction with the kids until an auntie shoves a baby in his arms and he’s like UHHHHH 🧍🏻”don’tcrushthisbaby don’tcrushthisbaby” And now everyone including yourself can’t take their eyes off him 😭😭😭😭

STOP I LOVE THIS

warnings: fake dating, fluff, cue flustered kiyoomi

One month ago Sakusa Kiyoomi took you aside during one of your usual hangouts with Atsumu to ask if you could pretend to be his girlfriend. Your brain told you over and over that this is a terrible idea, but you couldn't help yourself and said yes. Plus, it was one night at his mom's house. You already knew his family it wouldn't be to shocking to see you by Kiyoomi's side.

That's the thing. Your heart strings started to be pulled on the moment the two of you walked through the door and Kiyoomi let out a short, quiet "we're dating now." His mom's only response was to pull you into a hug and explain how she's been waiting forever for this. After greeting the two of you she told everyone the good news.

You felt terribly guilty for lying to her but Sakusa seemed unbothered. Maybe you were just being dramatic about the whole situation.

Somehow mid-way through the night you ended up spending most of your time with Kiyoomi's sister's kids. She was your favorite Sakusa. She also was the only one who knew you had a crush on her brother since middle school. She would help you get pretty for him, but it never worked. She claimed it did, but you never saw any progress. You and the children were in the basement playing with toys while a random kids TV show played in the background. The characters would sing and save the day successfully holding the attention of the youngest Sakusa. She isn't even one yet, but she has the whole family whipped except Kiyoomi of course. For some reason he tries to stay away from her leading you to never actually meeting the little one til today. She was adorable. She'd bounce her arms up and down while babbling to the song. In front of you was her older brother, and Kiyoomi's first nephew. He had toy trucks and a few random characters from animes you know and some you don't. You were helping zoom the cars around the basement, crawling on your knees still you looked up to see Kiyoomi has finally decided to spend time with you. You could have swore you saw his lip twitch before he stepped pass you and sat on the couch switching the TV channel.

Kaia, the youngest, immediately started crying when she couldn't hear the joy of a few cartoon pups saving the day. Quickly you ran over to her picking her up to help calm her down. You lightly bounced her on your hip while giving small shushes to the baby. You walked away from Kiyoomi because your pretty convinced by his actions that he doesn't like children. Which tears a bit of you heart knowing that you always imagined what having kids with him would be like. What a great dad he would be, but that's all in your imagination. The little girl begins to quiet down as you lift her up so she can stuff her head into your neck.

From across the room Kiyoomi watches you calm the baby with a red face. How are you so good at this? He's never seen you with a baby and from what he knows your not an aunt of any sort, unless you count Atsumu's dogs. He finally lets out a small smile as he watches you bring the baby up so she can snuggle into your neck, but as if the gods are against him. You turn around to see him watching you, and you tell the baby with a slight smirk, "baby I think your uncle Kiy wants to apologize," you walk over still holding the baby like a natural. Finally setting her down to crawl over to him on the couch. The older man trys to hold the baby like a puppy. He's never done this before and he's never felt embarrassed in his life. You giggle softly at his nervous face and tell him, "Kiyoomi that's not how you hold a baby," he can barely focus on your words when your giggles are enough for him to worship the group you walk on. He swears he enters heaven the moment he hears that sound. "it's good that your holding her butt but i think she wants to be facing you," You say as you scoot closer and reach to try and show him the proper way.

Kiyoomi leaned back on the couch and attempted to correctly hold the baby on his chest. One hand on her back and the other holding her butt up. As if Kiyoomi was a sleeping pill the little girl immediately closed her eyes and fell asleep on the tall man. "see it's not hard. Do you wanna take her to her momma? She seems sleepy," you said with small smile on your face. Not forgetting the little boy playing behind the couch you glanced over to make sure he was okay. God, Kiyoomi could help but want to ask if you wanted to be a mom right now.

Unmoving Kiyoomi stiffly shakes his head no at the though of having to hold this baby while moving. You srunch your eyebrows together in thought trying to understand why he's so stiff. noticing your confusion he squeaks out, "What if I break her?" and at first you thought he was joking but there was genuine panic in his features. He thought he was this cool collected guy, but you could honestly read him like a book.

"i'll be right here, okay? You're not going to break her," You nodded your head while you spoke to him in the calmest voice you could muster. Slowly he stood up and you redirected his hand so that it held up some of her head too along with her back. "you need to keep her head up. Baby's head's are weak," he nodded his head at your words like they were the gospel. Anything you said he would take it as the truth. If you said it, it was right. Cautiously walking up the steps to the family room. His whole family seems shocked to see the large man holding such a delicate baby. He takes a deep breath while he tries to pass the sleeping girl to his sister.

"whoa, what did you do to her? She never sleeps this heavy." His sister said in shock, "Kiyoomi you need to hold her more often," she continued. Then did you finally take in how red his face was. He was so flustered it was adorable. Quickly you took your phone out and snapped a picture of the boy without his knowledge.

bonus:

It was late and about everyone at the gathering had left except for Kiyoomi's immediate family. The baby girl was back in your and Kiyoomi's lap trying to decide who she wants to get attention from. You and Kiyoomi were shoulder to shoulder and at one point he brought his arm over to hold you even closer. After falling a few times on Kiyoomi and then gripping his shirt like a life line the little girl turned and crawled into your lap. You let a small Ha at Kiyoomi for her ultimately choosing you, but you take it back once the little girl tried pulling the top of you dress down to get to your boob. Kiyoomi quickly grabs the little girl and she starts crying sad that she didn't get fed. If you heard correctly you swore you heard him tell the little one that you would have milk soon but not now.

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu fluff #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #kiyoomi fluff #kiyoomi sakusa #im sorry for making him horrible in another chance #babygirl kiyoomi #kiyoomi x reader #haikyuu sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x reader #dilf sakusa #haikyuu dads

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lowkeyremi · 5 months

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jjk men and aftercare pt 2 ft. Yuji, Megumi, Sukuna, Yuta, and Toge.

a/n: part 2 babyyy hope u guys enjoy, everyone (except sukuna + megumi) are more on the softer side in this i think (here's part 1)

cw: slightly suggestive, how they are after sex basically :) (all characters are aged up!!)

Yuji Itadori

He's kind of clueless at first. No doubt he's heard about it because he was nervous about his first time and called up his long time best friend Megumi to ask about.

Of course he told him to look it up himself, which he did but he wasn't patient enough to read through it thoroughly, so he scanned through the article to get the basic idea.

"Ummm, do you want snacks? Water... uhhhhh... um.." he struggles to remember what he'd read.

"Some water would be nice to start out." To start out? What does he have to do next?

Instead of stressing though, he hops up off the bed (naked), "Okay! I'll go get you some water!!" He's quick to leave the room and retrieve a nice, cold bottle of water.

As he's about to hand it to you he snatches it back and cracks it open, "Don't want you to strain anything."

"Yuji, baby, I can open a water bottle." You giggle at how cute and careful he is.

"Oh, right! Here you go." Your fingers touch his as he hands you the bottled beverage. A small smile rises on your face and his smile widens when he sees you smiling.

You gulp down the water quickly which was a terrible idea. Small sips is always the way to go, but sex has left you parched for some odd reason.

"Do you wanna hop in the bath?" His head perks at your questions.

"Oh yeah! You probably wanna get clean, right? I'll give you a massage too if you'd like!" Who are you to tell this beautiful man, "no"?

"Of course, Yuji. Thank you for taking care of me." Pride swells inside of him at the thought of taking care of you.

Megumi Fushiguro

Sigh. Like father, like son. He's not as bad as Toji, but when you guys first slept together he rolled over and fell asleep once you came.

When you told him why you were upset his response was "at least you came, right?"

Which he admits now that that was NOT the best thing to say. He's changed since then, though.

"Here," he throws pain killers and your favorite snack at you. You'd just finished showering about twenty minutes ago. Yes, you invited your boyfriend to join you but he had to resist your offer. He knew he wouldn't be able to keep his hands off of you and you already expressed your tiredness.

Anyone else would probably be offended if their partner threw stuff at them, but this is Megumi's way of expressing his love.

"You good?" He asks when you don't move to pick up your snack.

"Mhm, but you know it's best for me to take pain killers before sex. They're useless now." He dodges the pill bottle when you throw it at him.

"They won't reduce the after sex pain? Thought they did. Well anyway, you wanna watch something? I actually started getting into that one show you like."

The way your heart fluttered at his question left you all sappy and excited.

"Yeah get over here."

He's not perfect at aftercare but he's yours and he makes sure to tend to your needs in his own way.

Sukuna Ryomen

Honestly I don't even think I need to write anything for him but ima try my best!

He was confused about the way you stared at him when you joined him in the bathroom. He was brushing his teeth.

"What brat?" He asks staring at you through the mirror.

"You literally split me in half and didn't even bother to take care of me afterward.." You state awkwardly as you sit on the covered toilet seat.

"Eh? What happened to all that independent woman shit? Can't ya do it yourself?" He asks, the toothpaste and toothbrush in his mouth made his words a little bit hard to understand, but you get the gist.

"I mean I can do it myself, but it's more intimate when you do it with your partner!" Honestly it was useless trying to explain yourself because Sukuna is stubborn as hell.

"We had plenty'a intimacy when I was eatin' your pussy like less than ten minutes ago." There's sass in his voice and he rolls his eyes.

It was best to give up, because he wasn't going to listen. The walk of shame was super embarrassing and you made yourself a little spot on the couch to sleep on for the night.

Fifteen minutes later Sukuna's stomping into the living room.

"What're ya doing out here on the couch when we have a whole bed?" It's obviously a rhetorical question, he has a good idea of what you're mad about.

"You know why I'm pissed. You're an asshole, Ryomen. I don't even want to talk to you right now, so go away." The malice in your tone was evident and he switched up upon hearing you call him his full first name rather than that dumb nickname he will never admit that he likes.

"Ugh... so whiny. If I take care of ya, all the domestic shit. Will ya bring your ass back to bed?" He asks, a hand on his slutty waist.

"Yes." You quip quickly.

"Fine. Come on."

That was the start of the aftercare you deserved, and surprisingly he was good at it. When you asked him where he got all this experience from he said, "I was a human with feeling at some point. I know how to care for people, when I want."

Yuta Okkotsu

He didn't want to fuck up so he researched any and everything. From hydration to what foods are good to eat afterwards and so on.

"Thank you Yuta, this is delicious." It really is good, his cooking is phenomenal. It always warms your heart. You'd started on dinner but Yuta distracted you which led to having your legs spread on the counter for him.

"It's the least I can do for you for treating me so well." He says with a suggestive smirk and you know exactly what what he's implying.

"Also food is important to build your stamina back up after sex. Did bathing with those bath salts help any?" He's read that they're supposed to relax and calm the body. He made you soak for twenty minutes.

"It did, I don't feel as sore as I did earlier." And it's true, Yuta knew more about how to care for yourself better than you did which surprised you to some extent. Sometimes it felt more like a nagging parent than helpful advice but he usually doesn't get to that point.

"Make sure you're taking care of yourself too, babe. It's not all about me." You remind him.

He nods while chewing. "I always take care of myself after you. I'll wash up after we tackle the dishes."

Toge Inumaki

Toge is a worrier when it comes to aftercare. He wants you to be satisfied with his efforts.

Never again did you fall asleep without cleaning yourself up or letting Toge help you do it. Last time you did he commanded you to get in the tub so he could scrub you clean.

He wrote an apology on a piece of paper afterward. He just wanted you to get clean.

He cares a lot about you and your emotions, and obviously it's hard for him to do that in words, so he tries his best to do it through his actions.

Tonight is no different, he's washing your hair in the shower. The water is the perfect temperature and you can feel Toge pressed up against you. The way his finger tips graze your scalp are just right/ You about fall asleep.

"Mustard Leaf." He says in worry. He doesn't want a repeat of last week, when you fell asleep in the shower and you slipped almost causing a concussion if he hadn't caught you last second.

"I.. I'm awake. I won't fall asleep again, promise." You yawn and the worry dissipates for the most part. He trusts your words.

"Salmon." He responds and you smile lazily.

Your most earnest moments are when the two of you are in the shower. You feel the need to rid yourself of anything from the day so you tell him everything. He nods along and gives you comforting touches to assure you.

"I love you so much, Toge. Thank you for cleaning me up."

Your white haired boyfriend nods his head at you with a smile. Your eyes follow his hand as he writes " I ♡ YOU" with his finger, on the glass door of the shower.

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syoounn · 1 month

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𝓐𝓭𝓸𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝔂𝓸𝓾...

•BSD men with their drunk s/o

•Characters: Chuuya, Fyodor, Sigma

٭⊹¤.•⨳•.*☆✬٭⊹¤.•⨳•.*☆✬٭⊹¤.•٭.×٭

Chuuya

After you went partying with your friends.. it's not surprising that you were drunk and, of course... Chuuya has to take you home.

Once both of you arrived, he laid you down on the couch and started to take off your shoes.

"Doll.. I told you not to drink too much.." He said as he sighed.

"I'm not drunk.. just.. uhhhhh" You were completely dizzy and can't think straight as all you can think you were lying on the soft sofa.

"Yes you are."

Chuuya sighed again and sat down next to you, ruffling your head a bit.

"Maybe you need a sober-up kiss?" He said.

"I'm not reaaally drunk...!" you said, slurring your words as you eyelid slowly getting heavy.

"Mhm sure. You barely can speak."

Chuuya chuckled the way you protested was adorable he then leaned in close to your face.

"You want this kiss or not?"

You were too drunk to think and couldn't really understand much of what Chuuya was saying, as you squeezed Chuuya’s cheeks as you were sleepy.

"You're so haaandsooome..~" you said, giggling and smiling.

Chuuya smiled and then leaned closer and pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was tender and gentle. He pulled back after a few seconds and smirked, chuckling slightly.

"Feeling more sober now?"

"Nooo..." You said as you cling to him more, and feeling his warm body makes you more sleepy.

"Hmh. thought so"

Chuuya rolled his eyes playfully and then laid down next to you, wrapping his arms around you and holding you in his arms. He then waits for you to fall asleep.. and kept thinking of how adorable you were as that was what makes him love you more.

Fyodor

You saw a bottle of wine at the table.. you never really saw Fyodor drinking as you decided to take a sip, not knowing this wine was strong.

As you heard the door opened.. You saw Fyodor as he smiled at you.. "Myshka.. forgive me, i couldn't return home early.."

"Hmm.. Welcomeee home..!~" You said in your drunk state and smiling warmly.

Fyodor takes one look at you and there slurred speech. "My, you have been drinking Myshka?.. Perhaps you drink that wine i prohibited you to drink, have you?"

You were in trouble as you forgot about that. You were just curious and take a sip.. you don't know what happened next, and how did you end up feeling heavy and sleepy.

Fyodor lets out another gentle chuckle and slowly walks over to you, his dark eyes locked onto yours and his expression one of slight amusement.

"It is written all over your face, dear. Fyodor frowns, then walks up to you. "Don't play dumb with me."

He said as his tone was getting serious.. and you realize you were really in a big trouble. A dark look slowly takes hold of Fyodor's face as he walks over and sits beside her, his voice taking a sharp tone.

"You can't fool me, dear. This time, you might just have to face a punishment."

You can feel the coldness in his voice as you look at him frowning..

"Im.. sorry.." You said with a pleading look.

"You were told not to drink without my permission. My, my, you've been disobedient, aren't you?" He said sighing..

"Therefore, I must admit, you really are much more... malleable in this state.." His hand lands on your cheek and turns your head to face him as his other hand cups your chin. "In fact, I believe it would be quite fun to spend the rest of the evening with you like this. You're so adorable right now.."

He spoke again, leaning closer to you. "Shall we have fun tonight, Myshka?" Before you could even speak, your sleepiness took over, and you were completely falling asleep.

Fyodor merely chuckles and, with an expert hand, carries you into the bedroom and carefully lays you down on the bed.

"Sleep well.. Myshka.."

Sigma

You were tired of waiting to Sigma to get over from work, so you decided to head to his office.. but before you can even go, you spotted a bar as you decided a few drinks wouldn't hurt, right?

As Sigma finished his work, he saw you stumbled across the hallway. Sigma’s expression dropped almost immediately as he saw you walk towards him while stumbling. He panicked almost immediately and began to walk faster to meet you halfway. He looked slightly worried as he reached you.

"Are you alright, love.." He said his arms, wrapping around you as he looked at you with concerned eyes. He later realized you were drunk as you smelled like alcohol.

You smiled as you nuzzled your face to his neck and clinging to him.

"Hm.. you smell so nice.. i missed you.." You said still clinging to him.

Sigma’s grip around you tightened to stop you from possibly falling over.

“Of course you did love.” Sigma said as he smiled, “But you should listen to me when I tell you to wait for me.” Sigma chuckled once more before speaking again. “Did you drink while I was gone, love?”

"Noo..." You said, looking at him sleepy.

Sigma smiled at you as he stroked your hair.

“Come now, I don’t believe you.” Sigma said. “And you already look so tipsy.” Sigma chuckled again as he looked at you, and headed to your shared bedroom Sigma would then gently place you on the bed and lay you down gently, once you were down he would cuddle up beside you and wrap his arms around you while pulling you closer to him.

“There you go.” He said softly as he sighed and looked into your eyes as he thought you looked so adorable looking drunk and sleepy.

“You should take a nice sleep, love.” Sigma whispered softly as he continued to cuddle up against you. His breath would hitch occasionally as he started to become a bit tired as well.

You've stared at Sigma’s face for a while, admiring him.. as he noticed.. a slight blush appeared on his cheeks as he smiled softly at you and kissed your forehead.

"I love you.." You said as he smiled softly after hearing your words of affection, despite you being drunk.

“I love you too.” Sigma replied as he pulled you closer towards him. He held you tight in his arms as he whispered those three words once more. He knew the alcohol would eventually knock you out, so he decided to continue and say those words one last time before you did.

“I love you, love. I will always love you.” He whispers once more.

As you proceed to fall asleep deeply, while feeling his warm embrace..

٭⊹¤.•⨳•.*☆✬٭⊹¤.•⨳•.*☆✬٭⊹¤.•٭.×٭

#bsd x reader #bsd x gender neutral reader #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #bsd fluff #chuuya x reader #fyodor x reader #sigma x reader

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so-mordor-itis · 1 year

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Eye on You

“give peace a chance, let the fear you have fall away, i’ve got my eye on you. say yes to heaven, say yes to me.

if you go, I’ll stay.. you come back, I’ll be right here. like a barge at sea, in the storm I stay clear, cause I’ve got my mind on you”

I told you I'd write a drabble but uhhhhh this ain't no drabble- @unhealthy-leon-brainrot

1998.

Leon loved differently back then. He loved in a way a 21 year old man freshly graduated from college could. He was giddy whenever the person in his interest would smile at him, would give him any time of day. His hands would become clammy, and his heart would race as if he were still a teenager. Sometimes, he truly felt like one at heart. That his soul was trapped in that time period, and it wouldn't ever leave.

It's why when he met you for the first time, and when you smiled at him as if nothing could go wrong, his face burned, and his heart almost burst right then and there. You were a brilliant flame, and he felt like a small candle stick awaiting to be lit.

He asked you out in a sputter of words, hating himself immediately after listening to them tumble. Leon didn't want his nervousness to show. He had been practicing for weeks in front of bathroom mirrors and sometimes in the Officer's Academy shower, hoping nobody overheard him. He wanted it to be perfect because that's what you deserved.

You giggled, and somehow, his heart both fluttered and sank. Your eyes glittered with an emotion that made him slightly hopeful. "You want to take me out on a date?"

"Yeah," he replied, all too quickly. "If you'd like to that is--only if you'd like to." He wished he could stop himself from talking, but he couldn't.

You smiled at him, and dammit there went the last of his coherent thoughts. "You know what? Sure. I don't have anything interesting going on." You laughed again, looking away shyly. "I can't say no when you're looking at me like that."

"Like what?" Leon asked, though he fully knew what you were talking about.

"Like I'm the only thing on your mind," you responded. You were fidgeting with your shirt, and Leon wanted nothing more than to grab your hands and hold them.

You weren't incorrect, either. You were on his mind a frightening amount. This affection for you was a buzz in the back of his mind, a throb in his chest.

You still said yes.

"So it's a date?"

"Yes, it's a date."

He swore he grinned from ear to ear, and he saw you return it.

The day he was supposed to pick you up, he never did. You were more worried than disappointed. Leon didn't seem like the type of guy you ask you out, gazing at you as if you created the sky and the stars, and then drop you like a hat. Despite the bitter part of you wanting to think he ditched you, the rational part knew better.

He called you hours later, apologetic and broken. "I'm so sorry. Something... something came up."

"Forget the date," you quickly muttered, surprised at how swift the words left your mouth. "Are you okay?"

He was silent for a bit. "Not really."

"Where are you? I'm coming to you."

"No, wait," Leon called your name almost in a plea. "I don't want you to drag yourself into this."

You weren't backing down without a little bit of a fight. "Leon, please."

He paused before stating he was in a hospital outside of Raccoon City.

Leon knew he loved you after that. He never admitted to himself until he was sure, but he couldn't prevent that innocent crush from growing into something more powerful.

You became a firework, blazing in his lonely, starless sky. You had always been.

2004.

He liked to believe he still loved the same. Wanted to love the same as he did all those years ago. His heart pounding and his palms becoming clammy, blue eyes full of innocent love.

He knew he didn't.

Leon was reserved now, awkward with his affection, hesitant with his touches yet still craved it. He hated that you had to watch him develop--no, perhaps devolve was the better word here--this trauma response. This training, this work, it all collapsed on top of him, and sometimes he felt as if it would eventually crush him.

Yet, some part of you still saw his old self. That stupid, lovesick boy who craved your attention the way a puppy would a scrap of food. You still gave him love, still kissed his scars, still told him sweet nothings when he broke down crying because the pressure was too much.

He once asked you if you were okay with all of this still, okay with him. You gave him your usual smile, the one that made him weak and touched that lovesick boy deep down. "You're stuck with me, Leon. I gave myself to you the day you asked me out. I'm staying. No matter what happens, I'm here."

He kissed you hard that day. Harder than he ever had. Placing a promise against your lips that he would always come back to you. No matter what.

You often wondered what he would do without you. If he would crash and burn the moment you turned around, if the night terrors would claw at his throat and suffocate him.

It was hard, watching him suffer mentally when all you could do was give him words of affirmation. Reassure him that the nightmares weren't real and that you were truly there with him and not bloodied up and dead.

Those moments made the good ones feel like precious gifts. Not just for you, but also for him. You carried them in your heart and held on to those when the bad days would storm over his head.

You remembered one of those good days so clearly, so vividly it never failed to make you smile. One day, while looking over some files, Leon had fallen asleep. His glasses--the ones he usually only used whenever he was reading important work files--were scrunched against his face, pushing up against the bridge of his nose. You remembered walking into his office, snickering a little at the sight. You sighed, shaking your head. "What am I going to do with you?"

You approached him quietly, as if the smallest movement would ruin his peaceful slumber. You grabbed the rims of his glasses carefully, pulling them off his face so he'd be more comfortable. As you did, you caught a feel of his soft locks and couldn't help but lightly smooth between your fingers. You took note of his facial features; his cheekbones were more rigid, and the shadows of his eyes were sunken in. His hair was even a bit darker, looking dirtier blond than it had when you first met. Still handsome, that would never change.

The urge to kiss his forehead had you twitching, but you didn’t want to disturb him. Especially since he had probably been staring at documented words for who knows how long.

You moved to quietly nudge yourself away before his sleepy voice mumbled. "Gonna go so soon?"

You blinked, looking down to see his eyes were now open. Still hazy from his rest. You practically beamed at him. "Didn't wanna wake you."

Leon sat up, stretching a little before putting his glasses back on. "Guess I must've passed out. These reports practically put me to sleep. I can't believe this is part of what they pay me for."

You attempted to catch a glimpse of whatever was on the document, but he placed them flat on the table when he caught you.

Leon snickered. "Classified. Sorry, baby."

You pouted a little. "Can't I help my boyfriend out a little?"

He stood up and stretched more, popping his back. "Not if it means you getting in trouble by seeing the reports. I'd also get in trouble, and we definitely wouldn't want that."

"Man, and here I thought I'd be able to see the famous missions Leon Kennedy goes on," you teased.

Leon just rolled his eyes as if you two had had this discussion before. You have. You just like to see him smile. Distract him as much as you could.

"Become an agent, then we'll talk." He took off his glasses and put them back on his desk. He placed his gaze upon you, and you could feel the adoration in his eyes. He still looked at you as if you had created the sky, the moon, the stars. As if you were his sun and he orbited around you and only you. You would never get over it.

Leon mimicked the action you were doing earlier and parted your hair from your cheeks so he could kiss your forehead.

His work phone rang loud, interrupting the moment. Leon sighed and kissed you quickly against the lips before the obligation to his duty forced him to go answer it.

"Kennedy. Yes, sir."

You observed his body language as he discussed with his superior. His shoulders went rigid, his eyes focused as if he were already on the field. He was prepared for whatever they were about to tell him because he had to be.

He hung up after a minute of giving affirming hums and a variety of yeses. Leon plopped his phone on the documentations and gave you an apologetic look.

"Don't worry about it." You shook your head. You knew what he was about to say. He didn't even need to tell you anything out loud. His eyes told the whole story.

"I really don't deserve you," he mumbled. "Makes me wonder how you do it."

"Because I love you." You said simply. "I'm here to stay, remember?"

|Tags:|

@seraphiism , @uhlunaro , @izuniias , @honeyfict , @konigbabe , @leonskillshot , @airanke , @muffimtv , @justonemore-fic , @mandalhoerian , @tosuckmyweenis , @boundinparchment

#resident evil x reader #resident evil 2 remake #resident evil imagines #resident evil 4 #resident evil #leon kennedy imagines #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy resident evil #leon x you #leon x y/n #leon x reader #my writing

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cinnbar-bun · 3 months

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The Heartless Giant Pt. 3

Pairing: Crocodile x GN! Royal! Reader

Rating: SFW

Word Count: ~3.9k

Summary: You try to get the cigar for the giant, and uncover a few tidbits from the past that leave you with more questions than answers....

Notes: Smoking. Uhhhhh don't smoke if you don't want to I know I made it sound cool here but do recognize they're not that cool and also that you don't need to smoke. Reader is kinda convinced to try it once.

Part 1 Part 2 AO3

Taglist: @gingernut1314 @fanaticsnail @leafyturtle @pookiesnatcher @lolom

Procuring a cigar would not be difficult to achieve. Procuring a cigar that your father would enjoy, however, was a different matter. You had heard your brothers discussing the outrageous costs of them before- they were so expensive and special that other royal or noble families had presented them as gifts or tributes to your father. He rarely ever smoked, but on the few occasions he did, it was always with those expensive cigars.

You knew where he kept them, in a small, cedar humidor in his study on the third shelf. That was the easy part but taking them from the box would be difficult. The humidor was locked with a tiny key, a fact you knew after your brothers attempted to steal from his stash when they were young teenagers. Considering your father was almost always in his study, it would be hard to sneak in and look for the key.

For a moment, you thought about just giving the man in the cell a cheap cigar to stave him off. Surely, he wouldn’t know better, would he?

You sighed and shook your head at your own foolishness. The man was in the lowest cells and could kill you without flinching. Why were you going to test his patience by giving him an obvious fraud? You walked past the door to the study, contemplating what to do next when your father stepped out of the office with a raised brow.

“Ah, (Y/n), good afternoon,” he smiled as his eyes met yours.

“Father, good afternoon,” you smile back, before the gears in your mind start spinning as an idea forms in your head. “What are you doing?”

“Oh, I was just thinking of taking a stroll around the gardens. Care to join me?” He asked politely.

“Sorry, I have to decline today. I was going to read,” you fib to throw him off. “May I see one of your diplomacy books?”

Your father shrugged and motioned toward the door. “Feel free to, the books are always for you to enjoy.”

You grin and thank him, waving him off as he begins to descend to the gardens. You close the door to his study and breathe a sigh in relief. What good fortune you had to have gotten the study clear so easily. You wait a brief moment to make sure your father doesn’t come back before you grab the humidor from the shelf and then rummage through his desk. On top is a bunch of files and reports talking about budgets and possible forecasts- rain should be expected soon as well as a bountiful harvest- and his “lucky” pen he adores so much.

In the drawers is nothing but mementos of you and your brothers. Stationary. More pens. Clips, stamps, ink, folders, and old papers. No key.

You sigh and get frustrated as you open the last drawer, gasping as you see only a flintlock pistol inside. The pistol is shiny, obviously well-kept and maintained. You’ve been into this office many times, yet you never knew such a weapon would be kept here.

It made sense, you tried to assure yourself, but the fact your father always had this pistol and maintained it made a shiver run down your spine. You closed the drawer without a second thought, not wanting to think of the implications of such a thing being in there.

Still, no key. You frantically looked at the shelves for any sign or hint of a key. Nothing. You glanced at the humidor and angrily tried to pry it open with force. Barbaric? Perhaps. It was similar to something your brothers would do, but you knew you didn’t have much time to waste if you wanted to get the answers your mind was screaming for.

Damn that man and his need for expensive cigars!

As you were continuing to scuffle with a box, the door to the study opened wide as your father stood at the door.

You gasped and flung yourself back, accidentally bumping into an armored statue that he had near his desk. You knew you had been caught, your hands were all over the crime scene and the guilty look on your face did nothing to give you even a semblance of plausible deniability. You nervously raised your eyes from the ground to look at your father, but instead of an angry or accusatory expression, he seems quite amused.

“My, my, I didn’t expect you would be so bold as to snoop through my office like that,” he said with a low chuckle.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, knowing your cover has been blown. He hadn’t been gone long at all, barely even a few minutes, yet the way he snorted seemed to confirm everything he needed to know.

“You were that desperate to smoke?” He asked.

“No…” you begin.

“Ah. Were you attempting to get them for your brothers?” Your father questions. Your eyes widen when you realize you couldn’t deny it, since he’d get more suspicious of your intentions.

“Maybe,” you lie.

“I didn’t take you for someone who wanted to smoke,” he rubbed his chin. “Then again, I guess it would be silly for me to assume you would remain the same as when you were a young child. Although, lying to me to sneak in did hurt me a bit.”

“How did you know?” You ask. Your father chuckles again.

“You and your brothers have been acting suspicious all day. I figured something must have been going on. I also know that you have plenty of books on diplomacy, many of which I already own here. You would not gain anything new, so I wanted to see what you were really planning.”

You sigh, forgetting that your father- although a noble and gentle man- could be so observant and calculating in his plans. “Well, you weren’t called the ‘Hero King’ for nothing, I suppose.”

“Now, now, I may be your father, but even when I was a young lad, I too liked to indulge in some bad behavior,” your father says, walking over to his shelf. “If you would have looked a bit closer…”

He pulls out a red book titled A Key to Diplomacy and hands it to you. The book is rather light despite its size.

“I don’t really need this-”

“Just open it,” he sagely nods. You’re confused by what he’s trying to do before you open the book and find the inside of it is hollow. In the hollowed book, there is a small key. You pull it out and your father nudges his heads towards the humidor.

“I had it hidden in there since I doubted your brothers would ever try to open a book like that.”

You laugh at the absurdity of this situation as you open the humidor. Your father leans over to grab two cigars and a cigar cutter.

“Two?” You comment, while your father begins to light one up.

“I figured since you were so curious, I could allow you the chance to try one. Lord knows I need one.”

He brings the cigar to his mouth while he hands you the other one. You watch as he inhales the tobacco and exhales a large puff of smoke. The smell is strong, wafting and covering the room in a short amount of time. It’s a bit intimidating, but you continue to watch.

“Do you really feel better after smoking one?” You ask curiously.

“I think I do. Maybe it’s the fact I’m doing something else besides paperwork that eases me. Or maybe I put it in my head that it does. I can’t be certain, but I can assure you that a nice cigar does relax me when times are tough,” your father admits, tapping the cigar against the ashtray.

You look down at the cigar in your hands as your thoughts drift to the man in the cellar. Is that why he was desperate for a cigar of all things? Does it really ease his mind?

“You’re off thinking again,” your father comments.

“What?” You ask, focusing back on your father.

“You’ve had a dazed look on you since the morning. Are you troubled by something?” He asked with a gentle and sympathetic look in his eyes.

“Oh… no, I just was thinking of… things,” you try to say.

“Do you wish to speak of these ‘things’?” “No, father. I’m sorry. I’ll get over it soon,” you reply. After all, once you get the man’s name then… perhaps you can rid him in your mind. Your father shrugs casually and smiles.

“I understand. Do know that I’ll always be there to help you, dear. You are my precious child, a gifted one that I am lucky to have,” his face softens. The compliment makes your cheek flush and your lips curve upwards.

“Thank you, father. I appreciate it.”

“Anytime, my child. Now, since we have a few moments to spare, why not catch up with me?”

The talk with your father lasts for a while, with you two discussing random topics of interest. He muses on his rebellious youth, admitting he was a troublemaker. He says he once enjoyed fighting anything and everything, a habit he was lucky to have grown from.

“It might seem strange to admit, even whilst I charge headfirst to battle, but the best weapons one can wield… it is your mind and your heart.”

“Mind and heart?” You say, unconvinced. You do value your mind, but something about the way he said that makes you curious.

“Yes. If I had no conviction or love for my people and kingdom, there would be no kingdom left standing. If I was simply a violent tyrant who enjoyed blood for the sake of blood, there would be no happiness or joy in here. That is what separates humans from beasts. I love with all my heart, proudly and without fear.”

You let his words sink in and mull over them.

The giant below… does he count? Is he worthy of love? Can he love?

“Do you think everyone is worthy of love?”

“Now that’s a good question,” your father hums, looking less like the wise king and more like a regular man with every second of this conversation. “Perhaps they do. Perhaps they don’t. As the king, I make tough choices every day. I would love to be able to forgive and pardon everyone. I would love to have no enemies, no strife, no war- I would love for my position to simply cease from existence as we explore what the world has to offer.”

Your eyes widen as you hear your father’s admission. “You don’t wish to be king?”

“It is a heavy burden, my dear child. It weighs down on you constantly. And deep down, no matter how much I dream of being the ideal king, the best ruler, the kindest and noblest man in the world…” he stands up, pushing his cigar into the ashtray as he has his back face you while he looks out the large window behind his desk. The shadow of his figure covers you, shielding you from the bright light of the evening sun. He reaches his hand out to caress the suit of armor.

“But you are that king, father. You are that- to the people, to me-,”

“You do not understand, my child… once in a while, I think back to those battles, to those wars I’ve fought. I’ve slain and nearly been slain countless times,” he sighs. “I think of the way I was near death, near exhaustion, bleeding, bruised, broken. Sometimes…”

He glances back to you, with a somber smile and blank eyes that sends a chill down your spine. “I miss it.”

You gasp as your father’s eyes return to the warmth it once had as he sits back down.

“I am not the perfect man. That has always been true. But I can do good, and as such, I choose to do so, no matter how the monster within me screams. I am a father, a king, and a leader- I no longer work for myself. I work for my people. And that means I must be stricter with myself.”

Your hands tremble as you grip the cigar and look down at your lap. You don’t know what to think of what your father just said, admitting to the fact that deep down, he enjoyed battles and killing. The gun in his desk, was it for protection, or was it possibly for his desire to return to the days of his old glory? You try to exhale. Your father wasn’t so careless and bloodthirsty. Even though he admitted this, he had also said he restrained himself for his duty.

And yet… why did the thought of his true nature repeat over and over in your mind?

“(Y/n), are you alright?” Your father asks sweetly.

“Y-yes. I am. I asked a question and you answered,” you try and force a smile on your face. “I never knew you thought that way.”

“It does run through my mind on rare occasions. But I do not let it stop me from doing my duty. I truly do love what I do and my life. That is why I fight for it.”

You nod along, eager to take a break from here. “Thank you, father. I think I’ll be leaving, now. I’ve taken up enough of your time.”

“Oh, dear, you’ve made my day better. I enjoy talking with you and listening to you. It makes me feel I’ve done right as a father,” he grins. You feel guilt inside your heart as you glance at the cigar in your hand, knowing you only talked to your father in order to give this to his sworn enemy.

“Father, here,” you give the cigar back to him, not feeling worthy of the smile he has given you. After what he discussed with you, perhaps it was best to drop the subject entirely. Your father, however, pushes your hand back to you and shakes his head.

“I’ve no need for all of these cigars. Please, keep it, whether you intend to light it or not. At least as a memento of my trust for you.”

Your heart clenches in your chest as you nod feebly.

“Thank you. I’m happy you trust me.”

Your father chuckles and hands you a cigar cutter and lighter. “For whenever and whatever you decide to do. I will always support you.”

You grip the items in your hand and thank your father again before leaving to your room.

Guilt, guilt, guilt- it eats away at your heart while your mind screams for you to not continue with your plan. There is no point, no worth, no use to seeing that man. Oh, but your heart… but what if he is different than what once was assumed? What if he was simply in need of love? What if all he ever needed was just one more chance?

Do it. No, don’t. We don’t need to be in more trouble.

But can’t we? Why would we?

Oh, damn you! Don’t you see this is difficult?

The two sides of you disagree and argue, until you huff in frustration and grab the items.

Forget it, we’re going.

You sneak back into the dungeons, not even noticing the chills due to your anger at your torn feelings.

You’re an idiot, (Y/n). What good is this? Father said he trusted us, and now look what we’re doing!

“You think too loud,” a voice cuts through your inner thoughts as you look up to come face to face with the giant. He’s smiling, eyeing the things in your hands.

“What do you mean?” You ask in an accusing tone.

“You look as if you’re in a fight, dear. Are you always this lost in thought, your highness?” He mocks you.

“Oh, quiet you, you’ve put me in a rather big bind. You should be thankful I’m even giving them to you,” you frown, holding the singular cigar and cigar cutter to him. He waves his hook dismissively while his one hand expertly cuts the cigar.

“Yes, yes, thank you very much. My… your father really must have an eye for quality. These are perhaps the best cigars out there,” he says as he examines the cigar. He curls two fingers in a repeating motion. “Lighter,” he commands.

You fumble with the lighter in your pocket and shakily try to ignite it. The man rolls his eyes at your incompetence and guides your hand with his hook to the cigar. The flame slowly roasts the cigar as he takes a deep inhale of it. He immediately throws his shoulders back and lets out a pleasured sigh.

“Ah… oh how I missed this,” he mumbles, his body relaxing.

“Well, are you going to keep your end of the bargain?” You fold your arms.

“Patience. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were desperate to get to know me,” he teases, the smell of tobacco invading your nose. You grimace at the scent while the man revels in your disgust. His hook reaches through the bars again and tilts your chin up. He gazes down at you with half-lidded eyes and a wide smirk. “You look so stressed, your highness. Why don’t you relax?” “I’m not worried about that right now. Besides, I’m fine,” you huff.

“Nonsense. Here, let me help,” he twirls the cigar around to you and holds it in front of you. You glance between it and him while he hums. “What? Never smoked before?” “No,” you admit to him.

“What a shame,” he bemoans, going back to take a puff of his cigar. “And here I thought we were bonding something special. Although, perhaps it’s good you haven’t taken up such bad habits.”

“Really?” “Yes,” he eyes you. “I wouldn’t want you of all people to end up like me.”

“True. Why do you like to smoke so much? You could’ve asked me for anything, yet you chose a cigar of all things.”

“It’s a hard vice to let go of. I once was free to do as I could. Forcefully being unable to pick up one whenever I chose drove me a bit… mad,” he laughs humourlessly. “I find it clears my mind. You look as if you desperately need that.”

He faces the cigar to you once more. You feel your previous conviction falter when he gives you that eager look and nods his head for you to try it.

“I guess once could not hurt…” you begin as you grab the cigar and put it to your mouth. You inhale a large amount of the smoke before you feel your lungs screaming. You remove the cigar quickly and cough out puffs of smoke, wheezing while the man pinches the bridge of his nose.

“You really are too much, sometimes. You don’t breathe it in to your lungs,” he chastizes you, grabbing the cigar from you. “You breathe it in, hold it in your mouth, let the taste settle on you for a few seconds, then exhale. This is expensive stuff, not a cheap joint.”

He shows you the motions and hands it back to you. You cough once more before trying it again, just the way he did it. You exhale some smoke, thankfully not choking, but not enjoying the taste.

“I don’t get it. It tastes like crap.”

“It’s an acquired taste. Maybe you should bring me another, and we could try again.”

“Absolutely not, I’m not going to do all that again to try and smoke some lousy cigar. You still haven’t told me your name.”

“Crocodile,” he casually states. “Hah, hah, how funny. Be serious,” you frown. He shrugs and continues to smoke.

“Oh well. You don’t believe me.”

“There’s no way you are named Crocodile. That’s a ridiculous name. Not to mention, that was once from the hero of-”

“Alabasta?”

“Yes! Alabasta! And that…” your eyes widen as you see his shoulders bounce due to his laughter. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am. It’s not my fault you don’t take my word.”

“Then why is a hero in this jail?”

“Reasons. Reasons you will not know or understand,” his voice evens out, looking down at the floor.

“What, am I supposed to give you something, then you’ll tell me?” “I’m afraid my motivations can’t be bought, my dear,” Crocodile admits. “Entice me with something, though, and I may change my mind.”

“I don’t think I have anything ‘enticing’ to offer.”

“Oh, that’s where you are wrong…” he leans in closer to you and eyes you up and down. “Perhaps another time.”

“What? What are you-”

“Mmm, nothing. It’s just a thought came to mind.”

You roll your eyes at his vague words. “Never mind, I can see how someone as cruel as you ended up here.” “And yet you keep coming down to talk to me, dear. Why don’t you give me your name as well, since it’s obvious you are interested in me.”

“I am not. I am just repaying the favor from before,” you quickly correct him.

“My mistake, yes, that’s what’s going on.”

“I don’t like your attitude!” Your face flushes as you fan yourself. “It’s (Y/n).”

“(Y/n)...” Crocodile repeats, like a prayer. “I will admit, it is definitely a beautiful name. Far better than Crocodile, wouldn’t you agree?”

“You think so?”

“Mhm. (Y/n), it sounds like royalty. It fits you well, your highness.”

“Thank you,” you mumble, unsure of why your heart is elated he was complimenting your name.

“Would you look at the time, your highness,” Crocodile states after a few quiet moments. “You should be getting back upstairs. I’m sure your father would be wondering where you are. He wouldn’t want to find you messing around down here, now would he?”

“Right,” you shake your head, pushing aside all the strange feelings inside you. However, despite him saying you should go, you find yourself reluctant to move from your spot in front of him. Crocodile chuckles and this time, reaches to you with his right hand. He strokes your cheek with his thumb and looks down at you.

“You don’t need an excuse to visit me, your highness.” “Who said I wanted to?” you lie.

“Perhaps I’ve mistaken your feelings again,” he plays along. “Although, you could always keep me company. It’s very lonely down here.” “No. You have nothing else you wish to share with me,” you retort.

“I did say if you entice me, I might change my mind. And what is more enticing to a prisoner trapped here for life than a companion?”

You shouldn’t do this. But then you see those dark eyes and you feel tempted to try and learn.

“I can see that…” “You’re very kind, (Y/n),” Crocodile says as he removes his hand from your face. “Now run along. But don’t keep me waiting too long, dear.”

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece oneshots #reader insert #x reader #sir crocodile #sir crocodile x reader #crocodile x reader #crocodile one piece #crocodile #the heartless giant #heartless giant

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the-quiet-fire-of-defiance · 5 months

Text

There was a post going around for a while about how kana means chicken in Finnish, making Kanafinwe = chicken Finwe. The thing is, a lot of Quenya names have te reo Māori meanings or can have funny meanings when transliterated into te reo. I've made a little list.

The most important thing to know is that 'wh' is pronounced 'f' in most dialects. Also, I took several liberties with the transliterations - when there were multiple options, I picked the one whose meaning I liked the best.

Translations

Maitimo: Māītimo means sour gardening tool. (Māī = sour, timo = a tool used to dig up sweet potatoes.) But if you're willing to mess around with the vowel sounds a little ... Māī-iti-mau [my-ee-tee-mo]* = to be a little sour to be captured.

*'au' is usually pronounced like the o in no.

Kanafinwe: Kana = wild stare / to stare wildly, making him Wild Stare Finwe.

Kano: either 1) colour or 2) bean.

Turukano: tūru means chair, so Tūrukano means chair bean

Ingo means desire, yearning, wanting. (Ingoldo becomes Ingoroto, a desire/yearning within.)

Amarie: Amārie = of peace, tranquility.

Arafinwe: ara means the waters breaking in childbirth. It also means path, but the first option is funnier.

Arakano: path bean

Angamaite: anga = to face, māī = sour, and tē = fart.

Curufinwe: Kuru has a lot of meanings including to hit/punch, to be tired, a piece of greenstone jewelry, or a mallet. So I guess that makes his name Tired Finwe, Ornamental Finwe, Mallet Finwe, or Punch Finwe. The last one would be in the imperative, making it a command.

Moringotto: we have to take out one of the t's to make this Mōringoto. It means either 1) intense unimportant person or 2) unimportant person to penetrate.

Transliterations

Feanaro: The best transliteration would be Wheanaro, which is pronounced the same as in Quenya. But my favourite interpretation is Whaea-ngaro; mother lost/missing.

(Edited to add that 'ng' is a soft sound pronounced like in sing. I'm cheating a bit here, because it's actually the equivalent of the Quenya ñ, not n like in Feanaro.)

Nelyo: We don't typically have l or y sounds. My preferred option for this would be Ngērō, meaning to scream inside.

Nelyafinwe -> Neriawhine or Nerawhine. Nera can mean nail (as in a metal nail) or to nail. Whine [fee-neh] isn't a word in most dialects, but in some very small areas it's the word for woman/women.* (In most areas the word is wahine.) So uhhhhh interpret that as you will, but this may be the single most ironic name on the list.

*Another possible transliteration of Finwe would be Whinewē, meaning woman liquid. This is physically painful to me so I'm sticking with Whine.

Findekano: In the same vein, Whinekano means bean woman or woman bean. If you prefer Whine-te-kano or Whine-tē-kano, the former means Woman The Beans and the latter means women fart beans.

Turko is Tūrukau: chair cow / nothing but a chair.

Makalaure could become Makarōre. Maka = to throw/fling and rōre = lord, making the full name Yeet Lord. A prophetic mother name.

Tyelkormo would become Terekomo. Tere= swift/fast. Komo... um. This is mostly used to describe putting on clothes. But it can also mean to thrust or insert. So basically the same as the Quenya

Moryo = Mōriau, a firm unimportant person / a howling unimportant person.

Curvo: if written as Kuruwau, in certain dialects it would mean hit me.

Pityo would be Pitiau: defeated smoke/mist.

Findarato: rātō means western, so Whinerātō = western woman.

There are also names that are pronounced the same in te reo Māori as they are in Quenya but have no Māori meaning, e.g. Anaire or Curumo.

Take this whole thing with a pinch of salt, because obviously we don't usually make word-for-word translations of transliterated names. Like I said, I've also taken some liberties with the transliterations. But to the best of my knowledge, all of these are accurate translations.

It's the House of Finwe uwu smol beans

#silmarillion #quenya #my nonsense #māori-fying tolkien #don't mind me mushing together different dialects

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genericpuff · 3 months

Note

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:

#ask me anything #ama #anon ama #anon ask me anything #webtoon critical

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heich0e · 1 year

Text

"you can't eat blueberries for dinner."

the berry pinched between your thumb and forefinger pauses just at the threshold of your parted lips, your eyes flickering up to the man before you who watches you with his hands on his hips. you hold eye contact as you pop it into your mouth, something almost smug in the deliberate maintenance of his stare.

"god gave me free will and a chequing account, so actually i can do whatever i want."

rintarou doesn't find this funny–he does actually, but he refuses to give you the satisfaction of knowing that–and his expression stays passive as he watches you pop another little blue fruit into your waiting mouth. he continues to stare, and you continue to eat (ignoring him) until finally he sighs and shuffles away.

you have very little time to appreciate your victory before you hear a racket coming from the kitchen.

you wouldn't consider yourself a particularly intrusive person, by nature. you're generally happy to live and let live, especially when it comes to your longterm, live-in boyfriend: oftentimes it's better not knowing what suna's up to, for your own sanity. but your nosiness, and his noisiness, soon gets the better of you, and you shuffle over to the kitchen with your little bowl of blueberries in tow.

"what are you doing?" you ask, watching as rintarou rifles through the refrigerator in a crouch. there's something very primitive about his stance, hunter-gatherer even–though you know enough about him to know that were he a hunter-gatherer he'd be unlikely to survive a winter.

suna rises from his stoop with a strange assortment of ingredients in his arms, none of which really go together, and he looks at you proudly.

"i'm making you dinner."

you scrunch up your nose.

"uhhhhh-" you draw out the noise as your brain struggles for a proper response. "i'm not hungry."

he might even have believed you, if you hadn't popped a handful of blueberries into your mouth just after saying it.

rintarou drops his armful of ingredients onto the counter, looking at you pointedly.

"you can't eat blueberries for dinner," he repeats his earlier point firmly.

"why not?" you parry petulantly.

"blueberries aren't a meal. they're a fruit."

"they have antioxidants. they're anti-aging."

suna pinches the bridge of his nose and breathes out a long, aggrieved breath. "you're the most pro-aging thing in my life."

you waggle a finger at him accusatorially. "don't blame me for your grey hairs. if anything blame atsumu–he beat me to you by like three years."

rintarou places his palms flat on the counter and leans towards you on the other side. "baby, let me make you dinner."

he's changed his tactic now, playing a different angle in his effort to persuade you. he's softened his tone, lets his lashes flutter in a demure blink, his lower lip pouts slightly. in any other argument it may have been enough to sway you.

there's just one problem:

suna rintarou cannot cook to save his own life.

this is not to say that rintarou can't feed himself, or relies on you to take care of him in that regard. suna's happy to eat whatever he manages to scrape (or singe) together for his own consumption, and does it without complaint. it's just that, in all the time the two of you've been together, you can count on your own ten fingers the number of times he's made a meal that could be considered edible (and that's under relatively lenient terms.)

it really only becomes an issue at times like these.

"rin," you start, choosing your words very carefully, "i'm really not that hungry."

"it's the first night all week you've been home in time for dinner," he argues, "shouldn't you eat a real meal?"

he's not necessarily wrong–much to your eternal dismay. you've been working late all week, and it's the first evening you've made it home while the sun is still up, let alone at an hour that could be considered a normal meal-time. but as a result of your long work days, you're left with no energy to even think about what you might want to eat, let alone prepare something. even just ordering takeout seems too involved for the meagre amount of brainpower you have.

ergo, blueberries.

"i'm too tired," you say, your shoulders slumping slightly. you set your (mostly eaten) bowl of blueberries down on the countertop in front of you.

suna watches your body language shift, sees the visible deflation of your frame. he approaches you, slinking up alongside and pressing himself into you, an arm snaking around your waist. it's comforting, protective even. it makes you feel nice.

suna tugs you into him a little bit further, and you don't have the energy (or the desire) to fight him off. you let him pull you into his arms, burrowing your face in the front of his t-shirt, and you feel his palms brushing comfortingly along your back.

"long week?" he murmurs into the top of your hair after a moment of letting him hold you. you nod as much as you can, squished against his chest. his hands stop patting along your spine, and (mortifyingly) you let out an involuntary sound of displeasure, he chuckles lightly and then resumes the motions, swaying you gently while he's at it.

it's kind of nice, just letting him hold you like that.

you might even call it romantic if you could ever consider yourself so sentimental.

emphasis on might though, because your stomach chooses that exact moment to rumble, shattering any semblance of ambiance that may have existed.

rintarou laughs, really laughs, when it happens. it's the kind of laugh where you know if you were to look at him his teeth would be bared and his eyes would be crinkling, his head tipped back in his mirth. but you don't look up at him, instead you groan and press your face even further into his chest to hide your shame.

suna's arms wrap around your waist, squeezing you tightly before hoisting you up–still laughing as he plunks you down onto the kitchen counter right between his forgotten ingredients and your abandoned blueberries, slotting himself between your legs.

he takes your chin in his hand and tilts your face up to meet his, your nose scrunched up in embarrassed indignity. he kisses your cheek, but he's grinning, so you mostly just feel the press of his teeth.

"at least one part of you is honest," he teases.

you can't really even argue with him, given the circumstances.

suna steps away for a moment, reaching up to the top of the refrigerator and snatching the stack of takeout menus to nagano's finest(-ish) eating establishments (at least within 6 blocks) that the two of you have collected over the years. he fans them out between his fingers and totes them over to you, slipping back between your thighs and holding them up in front of your nose.

"pick one," he says.

"rin, i'm too tired to-"

"just pick a menu and i'll do the rest," he assures you gently. "i'll order, pick up, and hand deliver it right to you on that couch,"–he nods his head over your shoulder in the direction of your living room–"all you have to do is pick one."

you peer at him for a moment, a little shocked–a little moved–by his thoughtfulness.

you place a hand over his and gently lower the fan of takeout menus between you, craning up to press your mouth to his. he seems a little bit surprised by the gesture, but happily reciprocates, parting his lips against your own and tilting his head to deepen the kiss.

you pull away before anything gets too heated, plucking a menu at random from his hand.

"this one," you say, clearing your throat and looking away coyly, a heat prickling through your cheeks.

rintarou laughs lightly, taking the menu you've chosen with a nod. he kisses your cheek again.

"whatever you want," he agrees, turning the menu over to see which restaurant you've chosen for your evening's meal.

"you're being really nice to me," you say to him quietly, appreciatively, as close to proper thanks as the two of you usually ever get.

he lifts his gaze from the menu to peek at you.

"duh," he replies, "i love you."

the heat in your cheeks intensifies, and you can't blame the feeling in your stomach on a pang of hunger.

you can't help but laugh at how plainly he says it.

"besides," he goes on to add, setting the menu down under his palm on the kitchen counter, dipping down until the two of you are nose to nose and your lips are almost brushing, "i'm getting dinner, so that means you're responsible for dessert."

#suna x reader #suna x you #suna rintarou x reader #suna rintarou x you #suna rintarou #suna drabble #hq drabble #hq writing #writing

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