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#HITTING IT OUT OF THE PARK YET AGAIN MAY
shepscapades · 15 days
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Shep. Shep... SHEP....
Oh my god, wonderful thing to wake up to tbh, THIS, THIS PART THIS AAAA AAAAA IT'S SO GREAT
I want to speak about some things here!!!
I can't even see his face but your Xisuma is SO PRETTY, I knew you were going to give him long hair I JUST KNEW IT
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love how Doc needs to lean on X to get on his knees because you know HE DOESN'T HAVE HIS OTHER ARM NEEDED FOR BALANCE??
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Looks a lot like Etho getting a flashback (left corner) because he's not covered in thirium and also the colouring is different, not sure to what this flashback could refer to, but I'm gussing last life (maybe his final death in last life? Since this situation is also very death-like)
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Absolutely LOVE this panel, I really like how in the entirety of this comic the lines that divide panels are always messy/electric/chaotic because that's what's happening in the comic: chaos. But in this panel when Etho connects with Doc, It's peaceful, It's not an agressive action - It's actually the opposite, It's a peaceful, desperate, last cry for help before Doc shuts Etho down
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Now that's an interesting panel, I love Etho's talking being wavy, fading in and out, and all over the place - it's probably meant to represent his thoughts and it does a really good job with it! Every one of these sentences sound heartbreaking in context "I'm so scared" especially gets to me, for no reason actually, maybe because I'm surrounded by death lately irl and it just makes me think about those topics more- how terrifying it actually can be when you think about it
There's a lot of scenes in this panel, I noticed they are actually drawn in chronological order, they go from top left corner (Etho opening his eyes for the first time and seeing Doc and X) and go clockwise (to the panel of Bdubs' death in last life and Etho's hands shaking) get it? CLOCKwise because Bdubs really likes clo- *gets shot*
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Also just wanted to point how CRAZY it is when you realise that the first thing Etho saw when he was created was Xisuma on his right and Doc standing on his left a little further away, and the last thing he sees before shutting down is almost the same scene but slightly different and more chaotic! That's some crazy detail-
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also not that important detail but Doc started saying "Xisuma" in this panel but was cut off on the "Xis" part when he snapped back into his senses and decided to do something instead of just. standing there 🧍‍♂️
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SO YEAH I'M SO SORRY RIP TO YOUR INBOX GHGHGHHGHGHJFSJDFS JMGJ THIS IS SO LONG
but uhhh I just needed to get it out it's been like 4 months since the last part so now I'm going feral 👍
There's probably a lot of things I wanted to say that I forgot here sooooooo Idk prepare for more i guess--
Anyways have a nice day Shep you're amazing <3!
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RAHHHH thank you so much!!! THIS WAS A DELIGHT TO WAKE UP TO!!! I had too many thoughts so I just kinda doodled and rambled a bit :3 hope this is helpful!! And I absolutely LOVE these breakdowns, y’all are so very welcome to tear stuff apart whenever it’s kinda everything to me >:3 BUT YES IM SO GLAD YOU ARE GOING CRAZY!!! I’m so happy I finally get to share my insanity sfjbdfgkndbn
(Featuring a version of the interfacing page without all of the overlays so you can see everything clearly!)
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moonstruckme · 2 days
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if your not taking requests feel free to ignore me
could u do camp counselor james! where he and reader reunite next summer at the start of a new camp session?
I am lovely, don't worry! Thank you for requesting :)
camp counselor!James x fem!reader ♡ 884 words
It’s early May, and the sun is still pleasant. After last year, you know to relish the first few cool nights in the cabin, before the summer heat sets in and you become dependent on tiny handheld fans and those popsicles from the canteen. For now you’re enjoying it, the wooden boards of the dock warm under your thighs and your head tilted up to the sun as your toes kiss the cool water. 
The air smells like pine and fresh water. In a few days, all you’ll be able to hear are kids screaming exuberantly, splashing around in the water and small feet pounding on the dirt, but now it’s just the sloshing of the waves against the shore, the steady thunk of the canoe someone’s already gotten out hitting the dock. It’s peaceful. Meditative. And maybe it’s because you’re so focussed on that that you don’t hear James’ car pull into the gravel parking lot, or his friends bickering about who has to carry what inside, or really much of anything until there’s a set of footsteps approaching from behind you, and you turn around. 
“James!” You’re every inch the girlfriend in a movie, embarrassingly so, but you’re too excited to second-guess yourself as you get your feet under you and run to meet him. 
“Hey,” James laughs, stopping a second before you do to brace for impact. He grabs you under your legs and hoists them up around his waist, grinning hugely as he pecks you on the lips. “Hey, careful, no bare feet on the grass, remember?” 
You roll your eyes. You’re not supposed to let the kids run around without their shoes in case there’s some broken glass or something, but there never is. “You just wanted to pick me up,” you say. 
James’ smile widens. “Yeah, you got me.” 
You wrap your arms around his neck as he crushes you to his front, both of you gripping the other like you’re expecting to be torn apart. He can’t have been here more than half an hour, but James already smells like camp, sunscreen and something woodsy mingling with the smell of his shampoo. 
“I missed you,” you admit, turning your lips into the side of his head. 
James hugs you impossibly tighter. “I’m so glad you get it, angel. I was telling Sirius about how much I missed you on the way here, and he was being very unsympathetic about it. Deeply coldhearted, really—” 
“Fuck off,” says Sirius, and you look over James’ shoulder to see him and Remus approaching. “You saw each other last weekend!” 
“God, don’t remind me!” James lets you go just enough to smush his lips to yours. “Far too long. Cruel, unusual treatment.” 
Sirius humphs. “And yet you were apart from us for three months last summer, and I didn’t hear nearly so much of bereavement.” 
You smile and pat your boyfriend’s shoulder, a silent request for him to put you down. 
“Trust me,” you say, going over to hug Sirius, “the rest of us did. He was waxing poetic about you all summer. I think the kids were a bit worried.” 
“Yes, well.” Sirius cracks, grinning as he kisses you on the cheek. “As he should.” 
“Hi, lovely.” Remus looks thoroughly worn out from the long drive—or more likely, from his friends’ bickering the whole way—but he scrubs a fond hand up and down your back as you squeeze him around the middle. 
“I can’t believe you guys are here,” you say, beaming as you peel away from him. James immediately pulls you back against his front, his arms twined loosely around your waist. 
“We couldn’t very well leave him to wax poetic all summer again.” Remus smiles, and Sirius nods fervently. 
“You should have seen him, babe,” he says. “He was having a proper crisis over it. Now I’ve got to spend my whole summer doing charity work just to keep him from being torn apart.” 
“They do pay us,” James reminds him. 
Sirius waves him off. “For those wages? It’s charity work.” 
You lean your head back on James’ shoulder, sinking into his hold. You do have some inkling of the crisis Sirius is talking about; when your boss at camp had called him a couple of months ago and he’d been faced with either not seeing you for the three months you’d be here or going with you and not seeing his friends like he did last year, he’d put her off for weeks before deciding. In the end, Remus hadn’t been difficult at all to convince. He’s always wanted to work with kids, but James had to pitch the idea of being an art instructor to Sirius relentlessly before he’d finally agreed. 
You loved getting to know James last summer, and getting to see him in his element when you went to visit him on weekends throughout the year, but you suspect that now, with all his favorite people in one place for the entire summer, you’ll get to witness the happiest version of him you’ve seen yet. 
“The kids don’t get here until Thursday,” you say. “Want to see if we can have a bonfire tonight?” 
James chuckles. He leans over your shoulder to kiss your cheek, his smile unmissable against your skin. “Those are always fun.” 
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leaentries · 6 months
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i want you to give in | nico hischier
summary: tension can only build for so long, eventually it will have to snap.
warnings: suggestive themes, swearing
wc: 2.6k+
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You and Nico had only been friends a couple of months, but that didn’t stop the growing tension every time you were in the same room. 
Becoming close friends with a bunch of professional hockey players was not on your bingo card for the year. Yet, here you are, knocking on the door of Jack and Luke’s shared apartment.
You had met Luke at a bar when your so-called “friends” dragged you out for the night, then proceeded to ditch you for some random guys they had run into. 
Luke noticed your sunken form at the corner of the bartop, looking as out of place as he felt. He took the opportunity to introduce himself, buying you a drink in the process. After the two of you hit it off, he made sure to stay by your side the rest of the night. When you told him about your friend's leaving, he took it upon himself to integrate you into the tight-knit hockey crowd in the back of the wide room. 
You immediately fell into a comfortable conversation with a shaggy-haired boy named Dawson. These boys, along with the select girlfriends and wives, welcomed you with open arms. Only about an hour or so had passed when he showed up. 
It was almost embarrassing how quickly you were drawn to him. Maybe it was the way he carried himself with such confidence, but not enough to seem arrogant. Or, perhaps, it was the way his tight shirt clung to the defined muscles along his torso. 
Watching his movements grow closer, you saw a few of the other boys side-hug him, clearly excited by his presence. You leaned closer to Dawson’s side, trying to get a better view of the captivating brunette man. Dawson noticed your proximity, following your gaze to see where your focus had drifted to. He smirked.
“Whatcha lookin' at?” He asked smugly. 
Your eyes widened as you realized you had been caught staring. Hard. A warm blush crept up your neck as you averted to look at anything else. “N-nothing, just people watching.” You had hoped he bought your excuse, but the look on Dawson’s face proved otherwise. 
“Oh no, no, no. That was definitely not nothing. I saw you making goo-goo eyes at Cap over there.” This time it was your turn to make a face. 
“Cap?”
Dawson nodded, “Yeah, that's Nico. Our captain.” 
Nico. 
Even his name was hot.
But what had you almost on your knees was when a pair of big, deep brown eyes met your own. Your breath hitched as Nico’s eyes raked down your body. If it was any other guy, you’d typically be bothered, but there was a strange feeling of comfort in his gaze.
His tongue darted out to wet his slightly-chapped lips and, if you weren’t so flustered, you could have sworn you saw Nico’s chest begin to rise quicker. Neither of you looked away from each other, not until Jack’s drunk form flung into Nico’s. The moment may have been fleeting, but the feeling Nico had left on you wasn’t. 
❥.
You didn’t run into Nico again until Luke had invited you to a Devil’s function at the Haula household. You were nervous, staying silent the entire ride over. 
“Are you alright?” Luke’s voice echoed in your ears, snapping you back to reality. 
“Mhm, yeah. I’m okay, just a little nervous, I guess.” You bit your lip, looking back out of the window. 
“Aw, c’mon, Y/n. You’ve already met almost everyone that’s gonna be there. They all love you.” 
You just gave him a tight-lipped smile in return. You had failed to mention your little “encounter” with Nico the week prior. Simply because you felt it was too insignificant to bring up to your new friend, especially with the man in question being Luke’s captain. 
When the car finally parked in front of the big house, you felt yourself hesitating. You knew Nico was already inside, as Luke had been running behind on his way to pick you up. You couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was about Nico that made your heart race and knees wobbly, but it was hard to hide his effect on your body. 
“You coming?” Luke walked over to the passenger side, opening the door for you.
It was now or never. 
You followed Luke into the house, quickly being welcomed by familiar faces. Although the face you were most anxious to see was nowhere to be found. You felt your stomach drop a little bit at his absence but shook off the feeling as Dawson made his way to you. 
“Hey, y/n/n! How ya been? I haven’t seen you in forever…” He whined, making you laugh. 
“I literally saw you last week Daws, but I’m just fine.” You let your eyes drift over Dawson’s shoulder briefly, still not seeing Nico. 
“Ah, I see,” Dawson drawled, making your eyes shoot back toward his, “You’re just concerned with finding “Mr. Pretty-Brown-Eyes,” He mocked.
“Dawson!” You slapped him slightly, “I texted you that in confidence!” You looked around to make sure no one had heard the loud boy’s comment. Seeing as everyone was preoccupied, you let out a relieved sigh. 
He threw his hands up in surrender, “Sorry, sorry! But, you can’t deny it. You’ve looked like a lost puppy since you and Luke stepped through the door.”
“Oh, whatever, I have not.” You pouted. 
“Have to- Oh look! There’s Nico!” 
You whipped your head in the direction Dawson was looking, only to be met with an empty wall. You turned back, stone-faced. 
“Haha, very funny, Mercer. Very funny.” You rolled your eyes at his antics, genuinely starting to feel a little sad that you hadn’t seen Nico yet. 
“C’mon, I can help you find him.”
You shook your head in protest, “No, no, absolutely not. Nope.” 
Dawson’s brows furrowed, “Why not? You very obviously want to see him.” 
“For your information, Dawson, I haven’t ever actually talked to him before.” You turned up your nose, rejecting the idea. 
“So you’re delusional?” Dawson deadpanned. 
Your jaw dropped, “Well, damn. Way to call a girl out.” 
He rolled his eyes, “I’m kidding..for the most part,” You gave him a pointed look, “Just come on, I’ll introduce you as my friend. I’ll even start the conversation. It’ll be fine, y/n/n.”
“Not happening. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to find the bathroom.”
“Sure, sure, escape just when I give you the opportunity of a lifetime.” 
You opted to ignore Dawson as you walked away, heading to the set of stairs that led to the second story. Having overheard someone ask earlier, you knew the bathroom was somewhere upstairs. Turning knobs, you eventually found the bathroom, walking in to do your business. 
Once you had finished, you opened the door to leave, not really paying attention to your surroundings. You stumbled back as you ran straight into a hard chest. 
“Shit!” Your hand flew to cover the slight red spot on your forehead, “I’m so so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going!” You apologized profusely, still not looking to see who you ran into. 
“Don’t worry about it, pretty girl. It was my fault.” The sound of a thick accent made your skin heat up. You looked up slightly, meeting Nico’s eyes. You swallowed thickly. 
“I don’t think we’ve met, properly. I’m Nico.” He flashed his dimples. 
Oh god. 
“I know who you are,” You panicked, “I-I mean, I’m Y/n.” 
He laughed, “Well then, I know who you are too.” 
“You do?” You peered up at him through your lashes, leaning your back against the door frame. 
Nico nodded, eyes slightly hooded. “Yeah, I saw you with Luke at the bar last week. You were wearing that black dress.” 
Your breath picked up at his statement. “You remember what I was wearing?” You silently cursed yourself for not being able to muster up any other words. 
Nico’s arm rose to rest above your head as he leaned closer down to you, “How could I not remember? It’s kind of hard to forget someone like you.” 
Before you could reply, you heard footsteps rushing up the stairs. 
“Hey, cap! You up here?” 
With your nerves getting the best of you, you took the chance to slip out of his bubble, quickly making your way back downstairs. 
Holy shit. 
❥.
Your encounters with Nico became more frequent, as you often were with the boys. The little flirty remarks only worsened, except now Nico took a liking to placing lingering touches on your body. 
Grabbing your hips to move you over, or slightly pulling your hand to lead you through public places. It felt as if he would find any excuse to touch you. Not that you were complaining, but it left your mind hazy. You would like to think he was into you the way you were him, but you couldn’t be sure.
You knew hockey players had “conquests,” and you weren’t really in the market to be one. So, you kept your feelings to yourself, not ready to face the harsh reality of Nico not being serious about pursuing you, at least romantically speaking. Which led you to now, meeting at the Hughes’ apartment for the weekly movie night. 
The whole ordeal started after a night out in which mostly everyone got too hammered to get home safely. Tonight’s movie agenda was the entire “Hunger Games” series since Luke has been wanting to go see the newest that just hit theaters. 
After Jack let you in the apartment, you made a b-line to the side room off the hallway that held all the blankets. You made sure to get the same one every movie night, refusing to share with anyone else. Curling up in your usual corner, a knock at the door stilled the apartment. 
“Who’s that?” Dawson asked Luke, who was making popcorn in the kitchen.
“It’s probably Nico. He wanted to start joining us for movie night.” 
You felt your body perk up at the new information, you’d be seeing Nico weekly. Another knock followed after a minute. 
“Could one of you please get that? I’m busy perfecting this popcorn.” 
“It’s literally just popcorn, Luke.” Dawson remarked. 
“No, there is the perfect butter-to-popcorn ratio that I have figured out. Now, please, let the captain inside.” 
Dawson, who just sat down, turned to you, “Can you let Cap in, y/n/n?” He smirked, “I’m still trying to get comfortable.” 
You narrowed your eyes in his direction, clearly picking up on what he was trying to do. 
“Guys?” Luke called, “It’s gonna get awkward if you don’t let him in.” 
Huffing, you rose from your spot, “I’m going, I’m going. Don’t get your panties in a twist, Luke.” 
You gripped the cold metal doorknob, taking a deep breath before opening it. 
Whoa.
You felt yourself shamelessly check out Nico’s attire, his muscular form clad in grey sweats and a simple black t-shirt. An action that did not go unnoticed by Nico. 
He smirked, gently brushing past you, “Who’s panties are in a twist?” 
Goosebumps rose upon your heated skin. 
A man that hot should never be allowed to say panties so casually. 
By the time you got back to your spot, a certain Swiss male had decided to occupy the once-perfect corner seat. Your shoulders slumped slightly, you felt a whine build up in your throat. 
“Nico, you know I always sit there.” You pouted at him, sending a glare his way. 
He chuckled, “Don’t worry, we can share. My lap still has plenty of room.” 
You could have sworn you stopped breathing. The way his brown eyes shined into yours made you almost hopeful that his smooth words were more than just a ploy, but doubt still rang clear in your ears. Before you could respond, Jack and Luke entered the living room, both with bowls full of popcorn. 
“Hey Y/n, would you mind going to grab some more blankets for everyone? We have our hands full with this popcorn.” Jack asked you, sending you a grateful smile. 
You eagerly accepted the offer to escape. Opening the closet door, you quickly shut it halfway, taking a moment to compose yourself. 
In and out, Y/n. In and out. 
Once your breathing was semi-normal, you turned around grabbing an armful of random blankets. As you turned once more, this time to leave, you ran into a hard chest. 
“You know, we really need to stop meeting like this, pretty girl.” Nico’s voice echoed in your ears as he quietly shut the door behind him. You scoffed, placing the blankets on the shelf beside you. Crossing your arms, you looked into Nico’s eyes. 
“And you really need to stop calling me that.” You slightly cringed at how harsh your words sounded through the small space. Nico’s face fell slightly. 
“Why’s that? Hm?” He quirked his head to the side, slowly backing you up until you hit the wall. You did your best to control the raging fire in your chest or the way your skin crawled at his proximity. 
“Because you don’t mean it, at least not seriously mean it.” 
Nico placed his hands softly on your hips, gripping them into his own. “I mean what I say. I haven’t been playing with you, ya know.” His face now had a pink twinge as he looked down, “I’ve been trying to get you alone for weeks, but every time I say something you run away.” 
You looked away from him guiltily. He wasn’t making it up, you did try and find any possible reason to avoid him when he started getting flirty. Only because you knew he wasn't truly into you, or at least thought he wasn’t. 
Nico’s hand reached up to turn your head back towards him, your lips only inches apart. You could feel his shallow breaths fanning on your aching lips. It was tempting, being so close to him. He was a drug and you were trying so hard not to get addicted. 
“I only ran because,” You swallowed, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Because why, schatzi?” 
A whimper almost escaped your throat at his choice of name. 
“Because I didn’t want to give in.” Your words hung around the both of you. You didn’t know where to look, nervous for Nico’s response.
“I do,” You darted your eyes into Nico’s at his low voice, “I want you to give in.” 
“Nico-”
“No,” He cut you off, lips now brushing against yours, “Don’t pretend you can’t feel it.”
I just want to give in.
Your hand reached up to Nico’s jaw, finally pulling him down to crash your lips together. The kiss was desperate, both of you hot and needy for each other. Nico groaned into the kiss, pulling your hips deeper into him. His tongue danced across your bottom lip, begging for entrance. Letting him in, you whined at the taste. 
You finally pulled away, breathless. 
“Wow.” That’s all you could muster. You could feel Nico’s racing heartbeat under your fingertips where your hand rested on his chest.
He rested his forehead against yours, nodding slightly. 
“Yeah, wow.” 
You nudged his head up, his doe-eyes peering into yours. You opened your mouth to say something but were quickly cut off, once again. 
“Before you say anything, just know that I’m serious about you. I think I have been since I saw you at that bar.” 
You bit the inside of your lip, “Promise?” 
Nico placed a sweet kiss on your nose, “Promise.” 
The moment was temporary, being ruined by a loud voice, “Cap and Mrs. Cap! Get your asses out here and quit fucking each other. I am NOT in the mood to be an uncle.” 
“Screw you, Dawson!”
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milkloafy · 1 day
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wait..... this is hella cute!!! <3<3<3<3<3<3<3 if ur free to do reqs could you do hsr boys summer headcanons? im not sure if theyre open so it's fine if u dont thx!!! 🩷🩷
SUMMER SUN; SUMMER FUN — AVENTURINE, DAN HENG, JING YUAN
⋆。˚ ❀ a/n: ty anon for the request!! :> yes they are open so request awayyy ! i love summer sm best season fr so this was such a fun vibe to write :3 i hope u enjoy! i wasn’t sure which hsr guys u wanted so i just picked my current favs AHDKSLDK 
𝜗𝜚 — AVENTURINE
aventurine would love going to the beach with you 
building sand castles, picking seashells, jumping over the shallow waves along the shore
it all feels fun and refreshing to him. something he did not have the luxury to feel when he was younger
at your encouragement, he signs the two of you up for surf lessons one day
aventurine is…not a natural 
you’re both falling off the boards and needing the instructor to come and fish you out of the waves
after a few too many close calls, aventurine decides he never wants to go surfing again 
when the sun sets and golden hour hits, you take one million photos of aventurine, at minimum 
he models and poses for you, enjoying your excitement whenever you get a good shot 
once you’d had your fill, aventurine sneaks a few photos of you as well
he shows you his favorite beach pic of you with a smile
“you’re prettier than the sunset” 
aventurine ends the day off by buying ice cream for the two of you as you head home <3 
𝜗𝜚 — DAN HENG
while dan heng likes the warmth, he is not a fan of the summer heat
he prefers staying indoors during the summer, at the library or in museum with minimal walking around outside during the day
however, he does like sitting underneath the shade of a tree and reading a book 
some days, he’ll set up a hammock between two trees and ask you to join him 
when the heat cools down and the darkness graces the earth, dan heng likes to walk around and go stargazing 
the temperature is perfect at night—not too hot but also not cold enough to need anything other than a long sleeve shirt or a light jacket
dan heng has read about all the constellations you can see in the summer 
he’s disappointed there’s too much light pollution in most places, but for the stars he can see, he points it out to you and explains the story behind it
what constellation it’s part of, what planet is next to it, is that a space vehicle or a cosmo? 
he would definitely go on one of those websites that sell you a star lmao and “buy” one for you
even though he’s aware it’s a scam, he know you’d find it cute. dan heng shows you the certificate of your new star ownership and the two of you look for the coordinates in the night sky together <3
“you deserve the universe, but for now i got you a star”
𝜗𝜚 — JING YUAN
jing yuan thinks going to an amusement park is the peak summertime activity 
doesn’t matter if you are sweating buckets waiting in the long lines surround by body heat. jing yuan comes prepared. he has a hat, a battery-powered fan with a built-in mist spray, and water bottles with ice 
of course, he shares all that with you once you get tired of using your foldable fan
jing yuan is an amusement park snack afficionado. a salty pretzel? yes. a sweet treat? yes. a whole ass turkey leg? also yes. 
you are never hungry during your outing since jing yuan has you covered 
when you want photos taken of you, you show jing yuan exactly how you want it—angle and zoom and everything
yet when he takes the photo, it comes out off
crooked. blurry. you’re half cut off…
the only good photo he took of you is one where you weren’t prepared and have a horrendously silly look on your face 
“jing yuan… delete that right now.” 
“why? i believe it is called a ‘candid’ by the young folks. very popular.” 
you may not have come out with good photos of yourself, but at least you and jing yuan had fun and will treasure these memories forever. no matter how bad the photo to capture it is. 
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lgbtpopcult · 6 months
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What cool WLW projects do we know are coming in 2024?
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Drive-Away Dolls
Arguably the most important representation of the year comes from a movie directed by one of the Coen brothers. Ethan Coen directs this wacky comedy that is very much in style for him.
Synopsis:
This comedy caper follows Jamie, an uninhibited free spirit bemoaning yet another breakup with a girlfriend, and her demure friend Marian who desperately needs to loosen up. In search of a fresh start, the two embark on an impromptu road trip to Tallahassee, but things quickly go awry when they cross paths with a group of inept criminals along the way.
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Lost Records: Bloom and Rage
A game had to be added to this list and here it is, the best one. From the creators who gave us Life is strange. Lost Records: Bloom and Rage tells the story of four friends who experience a transformative summer in 1995. After 27 years of no contact, Nora, Swann, Autumn, and Kat are reunited by fate and forced to confront the long-buried secret that made them agree to never speak again all those years ago. From the teaser alone it is obvious at least two of them dated.
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Pluto
A Thai gl from GMMTV, known for its successful Thai dramas. The story is the telenovela cliche we've always wanted. Two girls in love. One gets in an accident and her twin takes her place to find out who was behind her accident, the other girl is blind. The twin has to fake being the real one so has to be in a relationship with the blind girl and of course falls in love with her. Match made in fanfic heaven.
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The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo
It was announced so long ago people are getting frustrated. However, with both a writer and a director now attached to the project, and the strikes over, we have every reason to believe we will finally get to see the hit novel, that centers the love story between two closeted Hollywood actresses, come to life. Whether you loved the novel or were indifferent and didn't see what the fuss was about, it is a very successful wlw romance and we want to see it on screen!
The Paying Guests
The director that brought us Carol adapting a book by the author of Fingersmith? Yes please!
Speaking to Indiewire, Haynes revealed he’s developing an adaptation of Sarah Waters’ 2014 novel The Paying Guests. “It’s a three-part limited series that would need to be a British production, but it’s a really great novel.” Set in post-WWI London, the drama is part lesbian love story and part murder mystery following a down-and-out widow and her daughter, the latter taking up a relationship with one of their lodgers. Waters also wrote Fingersmith, which was adapted into The Handmaiden by Park Chan-wook.
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NCIS Hawaii season 3
One of our favorite pairings of last year, Kate and Lucy are the main couple of their show and they carry it well. They look good together, have progress and evolution in their relationship and have fun working together.
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The Secret of Us
Thai channel CH3 is expected to hit us strong with this Thai gl. CH3 is big in Thailand so this one is a big deal. The story is the typical exes meet again trope and it's magnificent. It centers Doctor Fahlada, nicknamed Doctor Angel. She is trying to hide the pain after being abandoned by the woman she loved. But then...by chance that woman comes back into her life.
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Whisper Me a Love Song
Our resident anime entry has to be Whisper me a love song. Based on a manga it is the story of Himari Kino. On the first day of entering high school, Himari Kino "falls" for her senior, Yori Asanagi, whom she watched singing with a band at the welcome party for new students. When Himari confesses her admiration to Yori, Yori misinterprets Himari's feelings as romantic love. However, before Yori realizes, she comes to fall for Himari anyway, and promises to win her affections for real.
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Bad Sisters season 2
Bad Sisters is one of the best reviewed and hilarious shows on this list. Coming back for a season 2 was inevitable. Bibi, the lesbian sister, will keep entertaining us in 2024.
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Station 19 season 7
One of the most enduring shows and wlw couples on TV are coming back for a season 7! That is a lot of seasons but Maya and Carina do still have that spark.
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About Galaxy The Series
Part of the gl renaissance that is expected to go full force next year, this series is already hugely popular among Asian romance fans.
Synopsis:
‘About Galaxy’ is based on author Zezeho’s yuri of the same name, with a Thai title of “มูลค่าดาวล้านดวง”. The story revolves around Hong Yok, a designer who has a big scar on her face which led her to hide away from the public due to her inferiority complex. But something changed in her life when she met Note, a woman she was measuring clothes, and realized she is the same person who gave her that huge scar! However, despite the incident, she doesn’t outright despise her, and instead… feels safe. What will happen to the two women?
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My Ex-Friend's Wedding
Kay Cannon ("Blockers") will direct from a script co-written by Taylor Jenkins Reid? Staring a group of friends trying to stop their friend from getting married? And one of them is queer? We're all in!
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Arcane (Season 2)
It seems like forever since we first watched Arcane but we're definitely looking forward to season 2. Needs no introduction.
Dream the Series
We already have enough Asian dramas in this list but we couldn't leave out one of the most anticipated gl, Dream. The story is that of a woman that sees a girl in her dreams every night only to meet her in real life. While in real life they are friends in her dreams they do much more. She thinks her friend doesn't know about that what she doesn't know is that she also remembers everything they do in their dreams.
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Harley Quinn the Animated Series season 5
Another season of our favorite criminal duo Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy? Yes please and thank you. These two, and this particular iteration of them, might be the best representation American television has ever given us.
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Chaser Game W
Chaser Game W is the first gl produced by TV Tokyo so it has a historic significance for the advancement of representation for queer women in Japan. First episode airs January 8. Based on manga series "Chaser Game" written by Hiroshi Matsuyama & illustrated by Yukitaro Matsuyama
The story:
synopsis: Itsuki has been working in the "Dynamic Dream" game company for five years and is now appointed as the lead for a big Japanese-Chinese collaboration project, which she is fully motivated to work on. However, it turns out the Chinese company team is led by her ex, Fuyu, whom she one-sidedly broke up with back in university! After breaking up with Fuyu, Itsuki never dated anyone else and chose to focus on her work, all while not coming out to her family and coworkers... But when her ex-girlfriend suddenly appeared in front of her, her feelings immediately started to sway. Meanwhile, Fuyu always resented Itsuki for breaking up with her without saying why. She takes charge of the project and pushes impossible tasks onto Itsuki. While Fuyu plots her revenge, Itsuki is rekindling her unrequited love. What will the outcome be for these two opposites?
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Vigil season 2
The first couple of episodes of Vigil season 2 will technically be shown in December 2023 (in the UK only) but we'll basically be able to watch it beginning 2024 and we're looking forward to it!
Several upcoming TV shows and movies have cast actors that make it obvious they'll have lesbian and bi characters but until we know whether the representation will be enough to be worth watching we're holding off on making that other, more elaborate, list.
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youryurigoddess · 5 months
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A nightingale sang in the London Blitz
When exactly was that certain night, the night Aziraphale and Crowley met — and spoke for the first time in 79 years in the midst of the London Blitz?
And what’s the deal with the nightingale’s song, really?
Grab something to drink and we’ll look for some Clues below.
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The night they met
The Blitz, short for Blitzkrieg (literally: flash war) was a German aerial bombing campaign on British cities in the WW2, spanning between 7 September 1940 and 10 May 1941. The Luftwaffe attacks were carried out almost non stop, with great intensity meant to force a capitulation and similarly strong impact on British life and culture at the time.
Starting on 7 September 1940, London as the capital city was bombed for nearly 60 consecutive nights. More than one million London houses were destroyed or damaged, and more than 20,000 civilians were killed, half of the total victims of this campaign.
The night of 29 December 1940 saw the most ferocity, becoming what is now known as the Second Great Fire of London. The opening shot of the S2 1941 minisode is a direct reference to recordings of that event, with the miraculously saved St Paul’s Cathedral in the upper left corner.
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The actual raid lasted between 06:15 and 09:45 PM, but its aftermath continued for days. The old and dense architecture of this particular part of the city turned into a flaming inferno larger than the Great Fire of 1666. Multiple buildings, including churches, were destroyed in just one night by over 100,000 bombs.
Incendiary bombs fell also on St Dunstan-in-the-East church that night, the real-life location of this scene as intended by Neil. It was gutted and again claimed by fire in one of the last air rides on 10 May, when the bomb destroyed the nave and roof and blew out the stained glass windows. The ruins survived to this day as a memorial park to the Blitz.
Such a delightfully Crowley thing to do: saving a bag of books with a demonic miracle adding to the biggest catastrophe for the publishing and book trade in years. 5 million volumes were lost, multiple bookshops and publishing houses destroyed in the December 29th raid alone.
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Even without this context, judging by the seemingly unending night, overwhelming cold and darkness, broken heating at the theatre, and seasonal clothing (like Aziraphale and Crowley’s extremely nice winter coats), it’s rather clear that it was the very beginning of the year 1941.
Everything suggests that Aziraphale and Crowley’s Blitz reunion happened exactly 1900 years after their meeting in Rome — which, according to the script book, took place between 1 and 24 January 41 (Crowley was right: emperor Caligula was a mad tyrant and didn't need any additional tempting; there's a reason why he was murdered by his closest advisors, including members of his Praetorian Guard, on 24 January 41).
Interestingly, both events involved a role reversal in their otherwise stable dynamic, with Aziraphale spontaneously taking the lead instead of letting the demon be the one to do all the tempting and saving, and ended with a toast.
The S2 Easter Egg with the nuns of the Chattering Order of St Beryl playing table tennis at the theatre suggests that the Blitz meeting happened on a Tuesday afternoon, which doesn’t match any of the above mentioned days, but sets the in-universe date for 7 January 1941 or later.
The Chattering Order of Saint Beryl is under a vow to emulate Saint Beryl at all times, except on Tuesday afternoons, for half an hour, when the nuns are permitted to shut up, and, if they wish, to play table tennis.
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The nightingale
January means one thing: absolutely no migratory birds in Europe yet. They’re blissfully wintering in the warm sun of Northern Africa at the time. But, ironically, when the real nightingales flew off, a certain song about them suddenly gained popularity in the West End of London.
It might be a shock, but A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square wasn’t a hit from the start — even though its creators, Eric Maschwitz and Manning Sherwin, were certainly established in their work at this point. The song was written in the then-small French fishing village of Le Lavandou shortly before the outbreak of the Second World War with first performance in the summer of 1939 in a local bar, where the melody was played on piano by the composer Manning Sherwin with the help of the resident saxophonist. Maschwitz sang his lyrics while holding a glass of wine, but nobody seemed impressed. It took time and a small miracle to change that.
Next year, the 23-year-old actress Judy Campbell had planned to perform a monologue of Dorothy Parker’s in the upcoming Eric Maschwitz revue „New Faces”. But somehow the script had been mislaid and, much to her horror, replaced with the song A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square. She had never professed to be a singer but even so, she gathered her courage and went out onto the moonlit set dressed in a white ball gown. Her heartfelt rendition of the now evocative ballad captured the audience’s imagination and catapulted her West End career to stardom.
It was precisely 11 April 1940 at the Comedy Theatre in Panton Street and the revue itself proved to be a great success — not only it kept playing two performances nightly through the Blitz, but also returned the next year. And the still operating Comedy Theatre is mere five minutes on foot from the Windmill Theatre, where Aziraphale performed in 1941, and not much longer from his bookshop.
Now, most Good Omens meta analyses focus on Vera Lynn’s version of the song from 5 June 1940, but it didn’t get much attention until autumn, specifically 15 November, when Glenn Miller and his orchestra published another recording. And Glenn Miller himself is a huge point of reference in Good Omens 2.
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According to the official commentary the infamous credits scene is establishing Aziraphale and Crowley’s final resolve for the next season using the same narrative device The Glenn Miller Story (1954) does in its most crucial scene. It starts with the tune (and audio in general) totally flat, then adds a piano on one side, and gradually becomes fully multidimensional. The Good Omens credits not only emulate the same sound effect, but bring it to the visual side of the narrative by literally combining the individual perspectives of the two characters together. Even though they’re physically apart, their resolve — and love to each other — brings them even closer than before. Aziraphale smiles not because he’s being brainwashed, but because he knows exactly what to do next.
Some of you might have noticed that Tori Amos’s performance for Good Omens is actually a slightly shortened version of Miller’s recording — much less sorrowful than Vera Lynn’s full lyrics that include i.a. this bridge:
The dawn came stealing up
All gold and blue
To interrupt our rendez-vous
I still remember how you smiled and said
Was that a dream or was it true?
Which is a huge hint when it comes to what we can expect from the main romantic plot line in the Good Omens series. The original song introduces an element of the doubt — it seems like there was no nightingale at all, only the mirage woven by the singer clearly intoxicated with love, much like Aziraphale and Crowley for the length of the last six episodes. Crowley’s comment in the season finale might allude to that interpretation, stating that there are no nightingales — never have been. It was all a dream. But the version we’re working with here is short and sweet, and devoid of that doubt. In the Good Omens universe angels were actually dining at the Ritz, the streets were truly paved with stars (or will be shown as such in the next season), and a nightingale really sang in Berkeley Square, as the omniscient, omnipresent, and omnipotent narrator, God Herself, had shown us.
All in all, it’s not an accident that the “modern” swing ballad activating Aziraphale’s memory and opening the 1941 minisode is the Moonlight Serenade by Glenn Miller. It’s a track naturally associated with A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square when it comes to music style and the sentiment in the lyrics.
But why the sudden popularity? In the great uncertainty and hardship of the Blitz, A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square provided solace and escapism for listeners, offering a glimpse of hope and love amidst the darkness of war. It became a universal anthem of resilience and a reminder of the power of love transcending difficulties. By January 1941 the whole city knew this tune by heart, including a certain West End aficionado with a cabinet full of theatre programs in his bookshop. Thanks to Maggie’s grandmother, he most probably had a record at hand to play during his spontaneous wine night with Crowley. We can only suspect the details, but it was was mutually established as their song exactly at that time or soon afterwards. Pretty sure we will see a third installment of that minisode for many, many reasons, but especially because of this “several days in 1941” answer by Neil:
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The Man Hunt
In 1941 A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square gained even more popularity as the romantic theme of the Fritz Lang’s newest film Man Hunt. The 1939 story by Geoffrey Household first appeared under the title “Rogue Male” as a serial in the Atlantic Monthly Magazine where it received widespread comment, soon becoming a world-wide phenomenon in novel form. Its premise criticizes Britain's pre-war policy of appeasement with Germany, ready to sacrifice its own innocent citizens to the tentative status quo. Sounds a bit like Heaven's politics, right?
Yes, I'm trying to make you watch old movies again — like all the other classics, Man Hunt (1941) is easily available on YouTube and other streaming websites.
The next part will include spoilers, so scroll down to the next picture if you prefer to avoid them.
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The plot of the movie seems simple enough: the tall, dark, and handsome Alan Thorndike, who nearly assassinates Hitler, narrowly escapes Germany and back in London continues to evade the Nazi agents sent after him with the help of a young trench-clad “seamstress” named Jerry, bridging the class divide and becoming unlikely friends-partners-romantic interests. It doesn’t end well though.
Jerry's small London apartment serves as a hideout for Alan when he was being followed by Nazis, similarly to how Aziraphale's bookshop is a safe haven for both Crowley and Gabriel in S2. She helps the man navigate the streets and eventually out of London — by sacrificing herself and getting forcefully separated from him by a patrolling policeman. The last time they see each other, Alan watches Jerry look back at him yearningly and disappear in the fog, followed by the elderly officer.
Unfortunately in the next scene we learn that the latter is a Nazi collaborator and helps the agents apprehend Jerry in her own flat. Staying loyal to her love and uncooperative, she’s ultimately thrown out of a window to her death, but posthumously saves Alan once again — through the arrow-shaped hatpin he gifted her earlier that is presented to him as the evidence of her off-screen fate.
Long story short, thanks to Jerry’s sacrifice Alan not only survives, but is able to join the war that broke out in the meantime and go back to Germany, armed with a rifle and a final resolve to end what he started, no matter how long will it take. The justice will be served and the dictator will pay with his life for his sins.
I wouldn’t be myself without mentioning that the main villain has a Roman chariot statue similar to the one in Aziraphale’s bookshop, an antique sculpture of St Sebastian (well-known as the gayest Catholic Saint) foreshadowing his demise, and a chess set symbolizing the titular manhunt/game of tag with the protagonist.
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Aziraphale’s song
Will Aziraphale sacrifice himself as well? Or has he already? If his coin magic trick can be any indicator, we should expect at least a shadow of a danger touching the angel’s wings soon.
Let’s sum up the 1941 events from Aziraphale’s perspective: the very first time they’ve interacted after almost a century, Crowley actively sabotaged his entire existence twice by stepping onto a holy ground and by being outed by agents of Hell, both on the very same night and both because of his undying dedication to the angel. That’s enough of a reason not only for performing an apology dance, but also maintaining a careful distance for Crowley’s sake for the next 26 years. Only when he heard that his idiot was planning to rob a church, he gave up since he “can't have him risking his life”.
That’s when Crowley, sitting in a car parked right under his bookshop, offered him a ride. It wasn’t even subtle anymore. It was supposed to be a date, this time both of them understood it. But Aziraphale wouldn’t risk Crowley’s safety for his own happiness, especially not when he can name his feelings towards him and knows that they are reciprocated — the biggest lesson he learnt back in 1941.
So he did what he’s best at, he cut Crowley off again, but this time with a promise of catching up to his speed at some point. Buddy Holly’s Everyday, which was originally planned to play afterwards instead of the Good Omens theme, adds additional context here:
No, thank you. Oh, don’t look so disappointed. Perhaps one day we could... I don't know… Go for a picnic. Dine at the Ritz.
Aziraphale, carefully looking around and feeling observed through the whole conversation in the Bentley, consciously used the “Dine at the Ritz” line from A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square, from their song, as a code only the two of them understand. Not as a suggestion to go out for a meal, but a promise. A hope for the privilege of being openly in love and together — maybe someday, not now, when it’s too dangerous — even if it leads to a bad ending.
Fast forward to 2023 when for one dreadful moment Crowley’s “No nightingales” robbed Aziraphale even of that semblance of hope. He looked away, unable to stop his tears anymore. Only their kiss helped him pull himself together and make sure that a nightingale did sing the last time he turned — just like in their song — this time without a smile, as a goodbye.
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hezuart · 7 months
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New helluva boss episode is out, any thoughts?
Season 1 Fizz: Robo Fizz was mean and called children ugly. Real Fizz called his guests “freaks”. Called Moxie an "ugly little bitch". Bragged about his fame and the money made off his robots and was even really pissed off his robot was destroyed at that theme park and wanted to sue
Season 2 Fizz: Extremely insecure, extremely nervous, hates the robots produced in his image, never bad mouths anyone and is really kind and nice to his competition, knows ASL and gives inspiration to children 
Who on earth is this guy???? You’re not Fizz??? By god, she’s done it again! Another male main character has been uwuified!! 😰When will it end???
~~~
Mammon: “You’ll be like the son I never had!” Fizz is elated at this, but Blitz’s dad already treated Fizz like the son he never had? Literally gave him a card saying he wished Fizz was his son. He was treated super well and was the most beloved within his circus. I mean, he did lose that, and him explaining everything he has is because of Mammon, and so I get it, he has an attachment to all this. I like that we are expanding on his character, but I feel like its overdone. The insecurity is a little too much. The panic attacks are a little too much. (Dude lost his arms and legs in a freak fire accident and its a creepy fan that he probably has to deal with on a daily basis that sets him off? I feel like he would be a tad bit mentally and physically stronger to deal with. I mean, he fricken talked back to STRIKER, a serial killer holding him for ransom locked in a cage last episode??? But he freezes up when an annoying fan criticizes him? Just feels inconsistent.) 
Mammon saying “If you’re a chick, give up on your dreams, because woman ain’t funny” and then Vivziepop’s name appearing in the corner… there’s so much to unpack there. I think Viv meant it as like “I’m a woman, so I can write that joke!” or “I’m a woman, who wrote this show and is therefore funny so Mammon is wrong and it's ironic!” But it's been established that Viv neglects and mistreats her female characters. They’re either all bitches or cardboard cut outs whose entire existences revolve around a male character. It’s low-key sexist. On top of the fact that, Viv may not actually be funny because most of the actually funny jokes in the show were written by Adam and Brandon, who are both men. So its VERY ironic, but not in the way she believes it to be. 
The irony of Mammon hiring an Imp who idolizes him only to exploit him and treat him like garbage… weren’t their exworkers of spindle horse that felt that way? 
Some people think that Fizz’s creepy fan is like.. Viv’s poke at her critics but I don’t see a comparison at all. This guy is a super super big fan that wants to work with Fizz, which isn’t what the Viv critics want. I’m pretty sure that’s the whole point- is that they want nothing to do with her? So I’m pretty sure this guy just represents a creepy fan, which everyone gets. Like a Syndrome character. 
Also in season 1, Blitz killed imps left and right for Stolas, but when that fan is actually getting close to Fizz and threatening his life, Blitz doesn’t kill him on site. He just hits him with a gun. Thank goodness he kills him later but Blitz has never really been discreet. It was just weird forced timing I guess. Season 1 Blitz would have never hesitated. He would have killed that guy on site.
I will never get over Asmodeus’s weird coat, his anatomy changes with whatever he’s wearing lkdsgjldkfj 
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Mammon and Fizz are pretty much just Valentino and Angel Dust , but no physical exploitation (other than his robo replicas)
The Glam and Glitz sisters are really cool I’m obsessed with their performance, but we go right back to Viv’s 2 types of women: bitches. They’re bitches to each other too. They’re sisters who have like amazing choreography and on stage chemistry, and yet they constantly fight, like… how do they even function 
ALSO THEY GOT TOM HARDY TO SING HE’S NARRATING THE COMPETITION YOU GOT THE INTERNET’S FAMOUS MUSICAL COMEDIAN TO SING A SONG FOR YOUR “COMEDY” SHOW WHERE THE SONG ISN’T EVEN FUNNY It looks like he wrote it himself but… if even Tom can’t make it funny then who can???? I’m mad on his behalf 
Also… the ASL imp
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…. “I want to be a clown just like you! : D “ Fizz: Exploited for money as a clown ever since he was young, gained a boatload of insecurity because his boss was so pushy, forced to deal with sexual encounters, sold his likeness into a popular sex doll without actually wanting to, lost his arms and legs in a freak fire accident because the circus tents aren’t safe- Also Fizz: “You can do whatever you want to : ) “ This would have been a sweet moment if this wasn’t Helluva Boss!!!!!! This is Hell!!! what on earth are you doing Viv!!!! Kid pls do literally anything else with your life  Also how and why does Fiz know ASL
Ozzie and Fizzie getting a love song is cheesy you know, but…. Stolas X Blitz fans wish man… they WISH Oz x FIz is literally just the better Stolas x Blitz. Like this what the Stolitz fans want but its given to the side characters for some reason. Fizz’s end song was nice but All our main characters are just so flat Sad uwu special sweeties that have done nothing wrong... I'm just so sad to see them become former shadows of their badass selves. Our main characters were greedy, selfish, mean, sometimes creepy assholes. Now they're not. It was either an accident, they're hypocrites, or they were abused- and im like... this is Hell, can't we still have our main demon characters be assholes? I'm so curious what the explanation is gonna be for Blitz x Verosika. Is she gonna be framed as the bitch who ruined the relationship? Did Blitz "accidentally" steal her car and credit card because he was drunk? Like what else are we gonna strip away so he's "relatable"?
Nice to see Wally Wackford back I missed him 
I like how fiery Ozz’s design gets Ozzie confessing he loves Fizz to an entire crowd so all of Hell knows and everyone is like “OMG I KNEW IT! GOOD FOR THEM!” Being with a low class demon was something to be ashamed of. A power imbalance. Something seen as taboo in Hell. Now we have 3 top sin embodiments dating the lowest of low class in Hell and not only do people not care negatively, they’re happy for them. There’s no stakes. Our main characters can do whatever they want “You’re gonna regret revealing that Ozz!” how who are you gonna tell? the romance police? fricken Now we have Mammon! Add him to the reoccurring villains I guess!!!! yeesh 
(Clowns are apparently also like… influencers in this world for some reason???? I still don't understand Vivziepop's clown obsession I think this is just not my jurisdiction )
All things considered, not a bad episode for season 2, but im kinda at the point where I don't think helluva boss is gonna deliver anything outside of abused main characters with cute relationships I don't think they're gonna do anything else
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cultofdixon · 9 months
Text
At least there’s no bears
Daryl Dixon • They/Them Pronouns • Usually Daryl can see where the traps lay…but then you got caught • ANGST/SFW • TW: Injuries / Blood Loss / Anxiety
Requested by: Anon
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Daryl slowly sat up in his bed knowing he has the hunt today and that his partner will be joining him. Which meant he had to get ready and then drag their ass out of bed so they could get ready.
Once they both were ready, Y/N stretched their back out waiting for the archer who was currently informing the early bird Rick on their whereabouts for the morning.
“Hey, eat” Daryl startles them out of their thoughts as they tiredly take the protein bar handed to them and started to dig in while they walk to the gates.
It was a cold and nice morning for the two to go on foot for the entirety of the hunt. Even if Y/N does miss his bike to at least go a bit further out.
“You still waking up?”
“Meh.” They shrug adjusting the rifle on their back as they held onto the strap while looking around. “Why do we have to hunt early? Like. It’s what 5AM?”
“Have a watch to confirm that?” Daryl laughs a bit only to be hit with a pebble in the back of the head. As he quickly whips back, Y/N pretended like nothing happened only for him to playfully glare. “I’d be careful of any left behind traps. Don’t think there’s anything as serious as a bear trap but better to be aware”
“Why do people hunt bears? Some of them may be stupid, then others just want to steal your picnic baskets”
Daryl stopped once more only for Y/N to run right into him from not paying attention. He gave them a confused look.
“For someone who had a brother with only a few working brain cells. He didn’t watch cartoons? YOU didn’t watch cartoons?”
“Yogi bear”
“SEE YOU DID”
“Merle only watched cartoons or fights”
“Sounds very Merle coded” Y/N laughs a bit as they branched off a bit into a different direction to check out a bush with fruit on it.
The archer kept an eye on them for the most part, not like they would need the extra set of eyes since their first response in danger is to fight or find the closest hiding spot. They were also one of those adventure types from the old world and would almost always be outside so he knew that they knew about certain signs of danger and especially what’s poisonous or not.
“Those berries good?”
“Nah. But it could be good bait for small critters that can have it” Y/N plucked a handful as the two quickly turned to the sudden scurry that was too quick for a walker and Daryl went to follow.
When the tracks came up empty, Daryl was hit in the head again and turned to Y/N who had just caught up to him.
“What?”
“Did yea hit me with a berry?”
“No but thanks for the idea” Y/N laughs kneeling down to grab the acorn that fell, also grabbing the few acorn caps off the ground. “You ever wear these on your finger tips? As a kid?”
“And pretend your fingers were friends or some shit”
“That’s incredibly sad. If only I lived near the forest in Georgia then we would’ve been friends. Always find me in the trees”
“City kid?”
“Yeah but my sister always took me to the park to get outside and yknow, also not to hear bickering soon-to-be divorced parents” They laugh a bit as they took one of Daryl’s hands to put an acorn cap on one of his fingers before finding another bush in their peripheral to go investigate.
Daryl looks at the little acorn cap they put on his finger and thought it was cute of them, but before a smile could even grace his features. Fear shot right through him.
“son of a—-FUCK!” Y/N yells as their voice echoed through the forest followed by the thud of their body hitting the ground. They looked down to find the bear trap latched onto their left ankle. “Fuck fuck FUCK” they were too afraid to move and once Daryl finally came over.
The color in his face drained as he knelt down to assess what happened.
“You should’ve watched where you were going”
“Seriously?!” Y/N snaps at him for stating an annoying yet obvious response. Only for the sudden jerk to worsen the pain as they couldn’t look at their blood drain from their body or they might pass out. “Oh god”
“Jesus fuckin’ christ—-We gotta get this shit off yea without taking the foot”
“Oh”
“Oh?!” Daryl stops messing with it to lock eyes with Y/N a moment as neither exchanged a word. “What the fuck is happening right now?! Did I hurt yea further or—-“
“SOMEONE HAS TO BE THE CALM ONE”
“DEFINITELY DOESNT GOTTE BE YOU”
“SHUT YOUR MOUTH BEFORE THE WALKERS HEAR YOUR YELLING” Y/N snaps only for Daryl to cover their mouth waiting for the snap of twigs he heard to just be a critter and not what they had said a few seconds ago.
“I wish yea didn’t adapt your feelings to the situation when you’re the goddamn one that’s injured.”
“Freaking out to my full potential will only make me sob and the pain a whole lot worse” Y/N squeezed their eyes shut to fight back the tears as it was starting to get way worse. They carefully took their belt off even if it meant shifting, a wince, and Daryl flinching to the pain response. “Tourniquet”
“Smart. Very smart” Daryl takes the belt from them and got started applying such above their ankle before assessing what he should do next.
A lot of blood.
A lot of fucking blood.
It’s a 2hr window before they might lose it even with a tourniquet.
Y/N watches as Daryl thinks too loud in front of them. They were worrying about him even if they are the one bleeding less now. They clear their throat to get his attention as his expression instantly went to stress and worry thinking something worse was happening.
“Take the bear trap off, wrap the wound in your bandana, then carry me home so Denise can patch me up” their voice was shaky after silently crying a bit to themselves. Daryl did exactly what they said, a bit confused why they were so clear minded about it.
Next thing they knew, Daryl was carrying Y/N on his back all the way back to Alexandria.
“This shouldn’t have happened…”
“D, come on…”
“I knew this area had fuckin’ traps last time I was out. Should’ve taken them out before dragging you out here”
“You didn’t drag me out here” Y/N frowns. “And you would’ve gotten yourself caught in a bear trap. It just happens by accident”
“You shouldn’t have come…”
“I wanted to. You asked and I said yes…even if you didn’t I would’ve come out to find you if you’re didn’t leave a note like you usually do” They rest their head on his shoulder trying not to let the blood loss beat them with the exhaustion. “Shits unpredictable sometimes…”
“You’re too optimistic sometimes” Daryl sighs, listening to them hum in agreement as he felt their body shift against him. Making his anxiety pick up the pace to get to Alexandria.
It’s been a few hours and Y/N woke up exhausted but at least patched up and in the infirmary. They noticed they were alone but at least there was crutches to help them get around.
As they managed to get up and out of the building, Daryl was starting to head back to them carrying something when he noticed them on the crutches.
“You’re supposed to stay in the fuckin’ bed”
“Don’t tell me what to do” Y/N scoffs. “I wanna be in my bed. With you. Thank you very much” they were about to move past him when Daryl took their crutches leaving them still in a flamingo pose. “Daryl. Don’t be a dick”
“Let me set shit down inside and I’m carrying yea to bed. And ain’t taking no for an answer”
“Then can you hurry up? You or Denise or whoever took my jacket and I’m cold” Y/N frowns waiting for Daryl, watching him go inside the house leaving them out there longer than they had wanted.
But Daryl came back out in a little bit of a sprint with one of his sweaters, helping them get it on before picking them up bridal style and going toward the house.
“You gonna be nurse back to health?”
“Ain’t leavin’ yea that’s for sure”
“You’re sweet”
“You’d fall down the stairs if I left yea alone”
“I think I’m gonna take back calling you sweet” Y/N laughs resting their head on his shoulder as he pushes every door he had to open with his foot. Eventually getting to their room and setting them on the bed.
The archer carefully propped up their ankle using his pillow and covered them with his blanket. Y/N got comfortable watching Daryl move around the room moving a few things but then he left to grab something.
When he came back a moment later, Y/N had fallen asleep given their body was still wiped out and the drugs Denise gave them still floated around. Daryl set the glass of water on their nightstand along with fresh bandages for when they wake up so he could put new ones on. In the mean time, he moved to his side of the bed taking his boots off before bringing his whole self beside them.
Y/N opened their eyes a sec to see him beside them as they carefully moved their self close enough to bring their head on his shoulder. Daryl rests his head on top of theirs taking the time to finally relax.
“At least there wasn’t any bears”
“Shut up and go to sleep”
259 notes · View notes
ghost-bxrd · 28 days
Note
Been reading some of the silver age Batman stuff... Ouch. Reading that and reading canon Bruce?
Ugh, I wanna punch whoever decided they had to make him an edgelord to be 'realistic'.
The silver age plots are goofy and all, I know. WFA plots have a bit of a sitcom feel, I know.
And the modern comics do have a lot of really interesting storylines - like the Court of Owls, Luke's whole WAR arc- and a lot of really creepy awesome villains.
But the problem is the modern mainstream comics? I can barely get through one without wanting to punch Bruce - and occasionally others, but most commonly Bruce - in the face.
And it is tough to enjoy a plotline when the main character is a jerk, if you were first introduced to that main character as a good dad, a good friend.
I really want DC to do a reboot again - or at least start an Elseworlds comic - where they bring back good dad Bruce.
Bruce taking Dick or Jason or whichever Batkid to movies or amusement park? Bruce hanging out with Clark just chatting and being BFFs? Dick just leaving for college instead of getting kicked out at 16? Dick and Jason having a good relationship? Batfam who do mess up, but always try to set it right?
Gimme!
I can totally relate!
The first time I got introduced to the Batman franchise it was with the general outline of “vigilante trying to save people regardless of their past and wrongdoing” which, admittedly, may be a bit shallow as far as characterization is concerned, but damn when I started getting into the batfam fandom and the Robin history… I was stumped.
The early versions of Batman, his trademark characteristic, was that he cared about people. That despite his past trauma, he was still so intrinsically good and kind hearted. He adored children. He never considered anybody beyond saving.
I will never understand how the writers could move from that Batman image onto a version of him that would adopt a child only to later kick him out and then tell another he’s “not interested in teenage rebellion” because “I’m not your dad”. Or even canonically punching one of them in the face hard enough to knock a tooth out, completely unprovoked.
(Not to mention the whole beating Jason up so badly that Jason literally says “I’ve never seen you hit Joker that hard. And you hate him.”… or the batarang incident. Just… yeah.)
It’s just… jarring.
I totally agree with you that there are some very interesting plots (Court of Owls my beloved) but I don’t get how that translates to the writers making Bruce such a horrible dad or mentor. Like, it doesn’t add anything to the story except making the reader dislike him. And not much (if anything) would have changed if they’d at least made him a decent dad/father. At least that’s how I feel.
(Writers should take inspiration from Batman: City of Madness, because the way Bruce handled the scared kid in there… THAT’S what he’s supposed to be like!!!! A gentle yet fierce protector!!!!!!)
So in conclusion… good dad Bruce for the win!!!!! This jerky Bruce isn’t canon for me 😤 Silver Age let’s go 💚
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porcelainseashore · 1 month
Text
Into the Ether (5)
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Series Masterlist
Pairing: Vampire! Toreador! Leon Kennedy x Fem! Reader
Summary: At the all-night events cafe you run, you’ve become acquainted with an elusive patron, Leon, though you can never remember the last moments of your interactions together. After a harrowing encounter, a love-hate relationship develops between the two of you as you grapple with your newfound status in a world of darkness and investigate the reasons behind the untimely attacks.
Content & Warnings: 18+ Resident Evil x Vampire: The Masquerade crossover, horror, mystery, romance, slow burn, strangers to enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, eventual smut, swearing, smoking, non consensual blood drinking, blood bond, vampire turning, violence, injury, mild gore, torture, religious themes, minor character death, RE ensemble, VtM concepts.
Authors' Note: Some violence ahead.
Taglist: @admirxation @xoxostarlet @miss-oranje-disco-dancer ❤️‍🔥
AO3 Link
Chapter 5: Elysium
Within the next 24 hours, you had been given a crash course into vampiric, or otherwise known as Kindred, unlife. Leon taught you how to rouse the blood, something you would need to do every night before you could rise from your dead slumber. 
“Never go to bed hungry,” he warned. “You may not wake up for weeks.”
The next important thing was to use it for what he called the ‘Blush of Life’, so that you could pretend to look human. Without it, your skin was the color of ash, you were icy cold to touch and had no heartbeat. You remembered the shock on your face when you peered in the mirror at your grayish body and listless eyes. Resting his hand on your shoulder, he murmured, “You’re still beautiful to me.” You shrugged it off without a response.
Mending wounds required rousing the blood and so did using certain powers within ‘Disciplines’, but you hadn’t fully crossed that bridge yet. Apparently by focusing and channeling it through your blood, you would eventually be able to call upon the innate gifts endowed by your clan. 
Some already occurred passively for you. Like when Leon tested you by hurling a glass at your face spontaneously. You caught it with perfect timing, assuming it was just by pure luck. But he rewarded you by throwing another, which you seized again flawlessly; your reflexes working double time compared to normal. He said it was dubbed ‘Celerity’.
“What the fuck, Leon?” you seethed, before smashing the glasses to the ground.
He sighed. It was gonna be a long night.
As for the other abilities, they would come with time as you honed your craft. Leon appeared to be positively cheerful about the whole thing though. “You’re doing really well,” he praised. “I’m sure you’ll pick them up fairly quickly, especially the simpler ones.”
“Like the Jedi mind trick?” you scoffed, referring to the time he pulled that on you in the park.
Pursing his lips, he ignored your jibe and clarified cautiously, “Yes, though that would be under Presence.” 
He stretched out his back on his armchair; it took a lot out of his patience to educate you. You weren’t the easiest student to handle, seeing as how you were the opposite of what he had been like with Ada, always challenging him head-on, as if you were trying to catch him out on any slips he made. Not to mention the endless snarky remarks you doled out.
“There’s one more — Auspex, but we don’t have to worry about all of this for now.”
You huffed, shaking your head at all the strange terminology you had to put up with this evening. There were many things that depended on rousing, but that also meant that sometimes your hunger would increase. It was like Russian Roulette, you never knew when you’d get hit. And then, the topic that you’d been dreading came up.
“Feeding,” he began. “There are many ways to do it, but keep it discreet.”
“I’m sure bashing the guy on the head the other night was warranted,” you argued, your tone still fraught with bitterness.
His brows knitted into a slight frown. “It was an emergency,” he muttered, before attempting to change the subject.
Heading towards the fridge in his open plan kitchen, he opened it and handed you what appeared to be a blood bag. “If you want, you could try one of these… but they’re not to everyone’s tastes.”
You squished the liquid contents inside the PVC bag between your hands, causing it to pool on one side and then the other. Playing with your food. You shuddered. The concept was still so alien to you.
“The medical ones are almost undrinkable. However, the unprocessed ones could work, at least for you. Doesn’t really do anything for the older ones among us,” he explained, though there was a momentary pause when he noticed your discomfort.
“Hey, you okay?” Reaching out for the bag, he placed it back on the fridge shelf after you surrendered the item to him silently. “I know it’s a lot to take in right now. But, uh, we can go slow.” He swallowed anxiously, hoping he hadn’t touched a raw nerve with the subject matter. 
Gesturing towards the compartment, he mentioned, “I have a couple of these in here now. You’re free to have them at any time… or not.”
“Yeah, sure, thanks,” you mumbled, nodding despondently as you turned in the other direction. He was trying to be nice, but everything that had happened so far felt like a bad dream you wanted to escape from. You still couldn’t accept your new reality.
“Would you like to take a break?” he asked tentatively. “We don’t have to continue with this tonight, if you want.”
Clearing your throat, you waved away his concern, trying to put on a brave front. “No, it’s fine. You said it won’t be long before we’d be called in front of the Prince… and Sheriff?” The pitch of your voice rose at the end of your sentence, uncertain of whether you had used the right titles; they sounded foreign to you, as if you were living in medieval times. 
He had already explained to you the rough details of what had happened when you’d been attacked. It was difficult to wrap your head around the implications behind it, but the demonic face of your assailant continued to haunt you. Did you now have to testify in a sort of court? Would they bring you in for further questioning? How exactly did the judicial process work in this world? 
According to Leon, Kindred culture and politics were a completely different ball game from those in the mortal world. So, as much as you had a tendency to wing it in your previous life, you were way out of your league in this one.
“I’m guessing with the shit that went down, I should try to be prepared.” You gazed at Leon intently, trying to read from his expression how bad the situation was. 
There was a slight shift in movement of his lips, but other than that, nothing. Damn that man and his poker face.
“Okay, I’ll teach you what I can.” He took your hand in his, squeezing it reassuringly. This time, you didn’t pull away. “Just stop me at any point.”
He spent a substantial period enlightening you about The Traditions, the laws of the Camarilla — the sect you now belonged to, unfortunately not by choice. The first law and most crucial of them all, was to uphold the Masquerade and prevent anyone from knowing about the existence of your kind. As of now, Leon, being your creator, or sire, was responsible for your actions until you progressed on from being a fledgling to a neonate. Basically, a point in time where you wouldn’t be treated as a baby anymore. 
You began to understand that this was the same crappy autocratic system you had despised as a human, rife with contradictions. Especially when Leon proceeded to tell you about what he jokingly coined ‘Tradition 0’.
“The thing is, I can go on about all these rules, but whatever you do, don’t get caught.” He adjusted himself uneasily on his high stool, supposedly half-regretting what he had just informed you. You had a rebellious streak, he always knew that, and perhaps even liked it; living vicariously through your actions. But he was putting you in a dangerous spot by encouraging it.
“You’re telling me this?” you coughed out a laugh.
“Don’t make me regret it,” he cautioned right after, but you rolled your eyes at his remark. Typical.
“I’m just saying some rules are bullshit—”
“Glad we can agree on something,” you taunted.
“Right, well,” he sighed, the dull pounding at the temples of his head starting to grow more persistent. “Be smart about it.”
With that, he presented a burner phone and pager, nearly identical to the ones he owned. You grimaced at the old-fashioned, brick devices in front of you. One of the things Leon had iterated was the Camarilla’s blanket tech ban. He said it was a safety precaution against the Second Inquisition, or ‘SI’ for short, who’d managed to infiltrate hordes of Kindred through their carelessness. Personally, he shared his doubts about that, surmising it was more about the older generation’s fear of technology, and using the ban as yet another form of control.
“Technically speaking, you’re not even allowed to have one of these.” A slight smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth as he jiggled the phone, hoping you’d appreciate his word play. You didn’t, providing him with nothing more than a scowl.
Tough crowd, he shrugged before setting it down on the counter. “Anyway, I’m guessing your colleague’s gonna start worrying about your radio silence very soon.”
Fuck, Patrick. In the whirlwind of events, you’d forgotten about your instructions to him the other night.
“Pager’s usually for any comms from the Prince, among other more, uh, unconventional methods.” He recalled one of Hunnigan’s rats tailing him along the street with a spellbound look in its eyes, the dead drops, and the codes in graffiti at specific locations around the city, mimicking secret messages on ancient Venetian walls.
First things first though, you needed to allay any worries that resulted from your absence. You grabbed the phone, flipping it open. What was once a novel experience with Leon at the cafe now felt like a chore. You were unused to the stiff buttons, tiny screen and pixelated graphics as you punched in the numbers.
Pressing the age-old phone to your ear, the ringtone eventually came to halt, and you heard someone fumble on the other end of the line, along with a muffled shout over a wall of background noise, “Yeah, just a minute!”
“Patrick?” you addressed purposefully.
“Jesus! Where’ve you been? I tried calling you a million times; went straight to voicemail. Everyone’s been asking around for you! Did that guy—”
“I’m fine,” you cut in, stopping his rambling in its tracks. “Sorry I didn’t call earlier, I, um—” you glanced over at Leon as he eyed you inquisitively, wondering how you’d talk your way out of this one. 
“Lost my phone; think I dropped it somewhere,” was the classic excuse you settled with.
Leon nodded approvingly.
“Explains the unknown number,” Patrick inferred. “Anyway, you coming in?”
You sucked in a sharp breath. “Uh, actually, I’m not feeling so hot.” That was at least a partial truth. “Gonna take this shift off too. Tell the rest I’m sorry.”
There was a low, static chuckle. “Must’ve been a wild night, huh?”
“Come on, seriously?” you guffawed, cursing workplace gossip with a passion. “It wasn’t—”
“Later, boss,” he drawled. “You deserve it.” He hung up before you had a chance to argue any further.
“Yeah, fuck you too, Patrick,” you grumbled, slamming the phone’s cover back onto itself as Leon failed to stifle a snicker. 
He’d eavesdropped on the entire conversation. You flipped him off in response, which earned you an even louder chortle.
Both of you were interrupted by a series of beeps coming from Leon’s pager. He swiped it up in his right hand, taking a peek. His jaw tightened visibly, setting into a hard line as he regarded you with a rigid expression. 
“The Prince beckons.”
━━━━━━━━━━━
Huddling under the parasol that Leon held out to shield you from the pouring rain, you walked briskly beside him. Your heeled boots clacked along the city pavement, as you headed towards what appeared to be an inconspicuous underground shelter. Drawing closer, you saw the distinct mark of the Umbrella Corporation logo at its entrance. 
Security cameras lined the walls and an access control pad lit up by the side. Scanning his magnetic token against the reader, he keyed in a numeric code which caused a set of doors to open, allowing you to enter an elevator shaft.
“Umbrella’s involved?” you gasped in incredulity. It never occurred to you that the multinational conglomerate would be so intrinsically tied to the underworld.
Leon shot you a dour look, his brows puckered as a clear sign of his discomfort. “Yeah, the Prince is its biggest investor.”
You clucked your tongue. No wonder they’d always seemed shady. “So, this Prince… has he got a name?”
“Mm hm, Wesker.”
Given the way he had spat it out, you didn’t have to be a genius to guess that Leon wasn’t very fond of the man in any respect. It wasn’t a surprise, since to you, all corporate overlords were the same — evil, money-grabbing assholes.
“You would do well to follow my lead when we meet him,” he counseled gravely, as you reached the bottom level of the place, and stepped out onto the platform that serviced one of Umbrella’s many private subways across the city.
You were the only ones in the empty station. It was eerily silent until you boarded the automated train, whereupon a robotic voice announced, “This train is bound for NEST. Do not exit until the final destination.”
Leon’s mood seemed to grow increasingly morose the further you journeyed towards Elysium, where the Prince had his quarters open as a neutral ground for the Camarilla vampires to be entertained, relax and attend to important discussions. It just so happened that Wesker considered himself to be the greatest scientist ever known to mankind and fancied his Elysium to be instated within Umbrella’s laboratory complex. Apparently, the location had been considered unorthodox, but no one dared to challenge the Prince, instead resorting to petty complaints behind his back.
As he gave you a brief rundown of the place, who you should avoid and how you should behave, the train braked, stopping at the facility’s station. Leon’s final words of warning echoed in your ears, “Remember, you answer to me, and only me. Not to my sire, not to anyone else. Got that?”
Under normal circumstances, you would have made some flippant remark and opposed his sudden display of authority over you, but you’d never seen him this unnerved before. He steeled himself, his countenance turning stoic and impenetrable; the only remnant of who he was shone through his sapphire eyes. It was as if he had changed into a completely different person and you weren’t sure what to make of it. Instead, you chose to hold your tongue and observe the situation. Nodding quickly, you stuck close to him as he requested while entering the sterile, clinical setting of Wesker’s inner sanctum.
As you walked across an extended bridge towards the East Area, you noticed cliques of what you assumed were other vampires hanging around the pathways and the circular main shaft. Sipping on scarlet liquid in wine glasses, they whispered to each other, sneering as they gave you the side-eye.
Your ears pricked up as you tried to zero in on their hushed conversations. All at once, you heard a cacophony of voices surrounding you.
“She won’t last a week.”
“I’ll give her three days at most.”
“I heard she tasted delicious.”
“No wonder Leon couldn’t restrain himself.”
The voices were overwhelming, coming from all directions, and at times sounding right up close to your ear. You felt woozy and nearly stumbled, if not for Leon wrapping his arm around to catch you. He threw you a look of concern, but said nothing as he led you away from the crowd.
“Easy there, wouldn’t want to accidentally fall off the ledge now, would we?”
You ignored the feminine voice, allowing her silvery laughter to wash over you as you resolved to focus on the task ahead. Harden yourself, you breathed, imagining a void abyss into which your emotions could be emptied. Leon had mentioned they would try to faze you, and you knew now, more than ever, that in order to make it out of here in one piece, you’d need to place your trust in the man who had upended your very life.
From one door to the next, the way this complex was built seemed to mimic that of a spacecraft. The final set of doors swooshed open as its panels glided along the tracks. You set foot into a neatly manicured greenhouse, its lower temperature and misty atmosphere contributing to the lushness of the plants it housed. 
There was a tall, athletically built man in a full black formal ensemble, topped with a smart, matching coat, standing with his back to you on an elevated section of the room that served as a podium. His sandy, almost platinum blonde hair was gelled back tidily, and his hands, donned with fitted black leather gloves, were interlocked behind him in a military stance. He appeared to be fixated on something through a glass window below him. 
At his side stood a svelte lady with a tousled, brunette bob, dressed mostly in camouflage garb except for a striking cobalt blue tank top. She wielded a broad, heavy-duty steel machete, its surface catching the light and casting a menacing glint. A Doberman Pinscher sat obediently by her side, vigilantly surveying its surroundings.
It was only when you passed through the pathway connecting the entrance to the podium that you realized others were lurking around the shrubbery. Their eyes gleamed in a variety of otherworldly colors as they looked on with aroused interest at the spectacle before them. The vibe was tense, but you couldn't quite place your finger on the exact cause.
As Leon reached the edge of the stairs leading up to where Wesker was standing, he placed his hand diagonally across his chest, bowing in reverence. “My Prince,” he greeted, casting a stern glance at you to indicate that you should follow. 
You dipped your head in an awkward semi-bow, feeling completely out of place amid the formality of such a situation. He wrinkled his nose at your halfhearted attempt but left it at that, deciding it would work more in your favor not to make an obvious fuss over it. It was only then that the formidable man turned around to acknowledge the pair of you. His height, accentuated by the elevated platform, made him appear even more imposing as he towered over you. Although he sported a pair of pitch black sunglasses, you could still see the red glow of his eyes like burning embers behind them.
“Leon Kennedy and his newly Embraced childe.” He grinned wolfishly, though you didn’t understand what was so funny. “I realize your initiation to unlife was under… rather dire circumstances. My sincerest apologies.”
The tone of his voice seemed to suggest that he was mocking you, rather than being genuinely sympathetic to your plight. Your temper was beginning to flare up again, but when you peered over at Leon, you saw the strained look in his eyes and the tautness of his neck, almost as if he was pleading for Wesker to show some form of mercy. His vulnerability struck at your core, and you felt a sense of pity for him to be reduced to such a docile position. Biting your tongue, you quelled the simmering anger that was threatening to boil over.
“Such fire in her eyes,” Wesker tutted, smirking at Leon knowingly, though your sire remained expressionless. Holding out his arms, he welcomed you with them, “Let me have a closer look at you.”
For the first time you had entered Elysium, a bone chilling fear ran through your entire body, though it was soon replaced by the warmth and weight of Leon’s hand on your back, gently coaxing and ushering you towards Wesker with a reassuring gaze. You knew he was supporting you through this, despite harboring the same trepidation and dread within himself.
Once you were inches away from Wesker, he reached out, tucking his fingers under your chin to tilt your face from side to side under the harsh beams of light hanging overhead from the ceiling. “Hmm, not bad.” He licked his lips suggestively. “Tell me, Leon, did she taste as good as Sherry?”
Sherry? Who was—
“I am certain that Sherry is more suited to your palette, Prince.” His evasiveness carried a wisp of sadness. 
A respectable Prince never needed to rely on any of his Disciplines to incite fear and control over others in Court. Wesker, as a Ventrue, was more than skilled at Dominate, and could have chosen to use it indiscriminately. But what good is a Prince who relies on the powers of the blood to achieve his desires? A weak pushover. An idiot who should’ve been overthrown yesterday. 
Leon knew that Wesker reveled in prodding at his vulnerable spots with an invisible stick just to put him in his place. In turn, he was expected to perform this little monkey dance each time around the Prince for his acceptance. He just prayed that you would continue to be sensible; you were trying your best so far to temper your emotions and he was proud of you.
“Very well.” Wesker released your face, before signaling to someone at the back of the room. “Bring the rat in,” he summoned.
A scrawny man clad in a torn and bloodied hoodie was dragged by his chains towards the center of the room. His face had been mutilated and bizarre, occult symbols were burnt into his skin. Kicked to the ground, he sniveled woefully, scrambling to clasp his hands together as he begged, “P-please, I-I don’t know anything else, I swear!”
“Silence!” his captor roared.
Turning back to you, Wesker gestured towards the prisoner. “This abomination was part of the group that attacked your kind. They conducted what we call a Mass Embrace,” he lectured. 
“If your sire taught you well, you would know which of the Traditions were broken?” The lilt at the end of his sentence informed you that this was a test, as he peered at you expectantly.
You caught a glimpse of recognition in Leon’s eyes, as he offered a subtle smile in encouragement.
“Two of them,” you answered, crossing your fingers that you had memorized the text correctly. “Breaching the Masquerade and unsanctioned siring of another Kindred.”
A slow, deliberate clap echoed through the room. “Indeed,” Wesker commended. 
For some reason, he then decided to recite the Third Tradition in its entirety, as if hinting at something to you. “Thou shalt sire another only with permission of thine Elder. If thou createst another without thine Elder's leave, both thou and thy progeny shalt be slain.”
Before you could respond, the woman with the machete stepped forward. “I am ready to fulfill my duty, Prince.”
“Oh, Jill.” He gave her a fond side smile. “So eager for blood.”
There was a slight pause before he nodded. “Final Death. See to it then, my trusted Sheriff.”
In an instant, she leapt across the wide distance separating the Prince from the captive, and hacked off the screaming man’s head with one clean sweep. You flinched, shielding your eyes from the gruesome display as the other vampires murmured to each other animatedly. 
This was meant as a lesson. Wherever you went, you would be observed and judged, and if necessary, put down like a dog just as that vampire had been.
As the corpse was carried away, the rest of the audience took their cue to leave the vicinity, boredom setting onto their faces once again as they sauntered out. You were about to head down the stairs, when Wesker grabbed your wrist, motioning for Leon to join him as well. “Wait a moment, little one,” he cooed.
When the room had emptied out save for the three of you and Jill in the background, Wesker spoke up, directing his question to your sire, “Since you were at the scene, any guesses as to who might be responsible?”
“Well, based on the particulars of the Embrace, and their love for creating shovelheads, the obvious choice would be the Sabbat. The clues seem to point there at least,” Leon deduced logically. “The Anarchs would be fools to pull off something so bold… and stupid.”
“The Sabbat, those insolent rats,” Wesker hissed. A hint of rage tainted his voice, as he balled his gloved hand into a tight fist, causing the leather to pile and squeak. “Do you know how much trouble this incident has caused me?”
“The Raccoon City newspapers and broadcasting network have been going off their rockers about this,” Jill piped up, making her way over with her Doberman in tow. “The fire covered up any real evidence, but the Raccoon Police Department suspects foul play. They’re calling for witnesses.”
“Leon, I have come to value your experience, especially with such delicate matters,” Wesker remarked. “I want you to investigate this for me. We can’t have any more of these imbeciles popping up where they shouldn’t be. Next thing you know, the SI comes knocking at our door.”
He glanced over at you again as a calculating smile spread across his face. “Take the fledgling with you. Let this be a way to prove herself as an asset to our domain.”
“As you wish, my Prince,” Leon obliged, though you could tell that he was dismayed by the outcome.
“Jill will brief you about the case after you’ve had your refreshments,” he continued. “Otherwise, our meeting here is concluded.”
At this, he released his grip on your wrist, the imprint of his hand still visible around it. Leon took the opportunity to loop his arm protectively around your waist, pulling you snugly against him as he escorted you toward the exit. You hated to admit it, but after the overwhelming events of today, you were thankful for the comfort he provided you.
However, after settling into a private booth in the lounge on the lower level of the East Area, Wesker’s words came back to haunt you. “Thou shalt sire another only with permission of thine Elder.”
The tenet ran through your mind over and over again, until it finally dawned on you that your Embrace was by no accident. Leon had planned to turn you all along. You would have been beheaded by Jill if he hadn’t acquired Wesker’s permission in advance.
Your lips quivered as you stopped drinking the ruddy fluid from the glass that had been offered to you on the way in. It clinked as you placed it down on the crystal countertop before facing the man in question.
“You’re a goddamn liar, you know that?” you reproached, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes. 
With just one look at you, he knew that you had discovered his dirty little secret. “It wasn’t meant to happen like this. I was going to give you the choice,” he asserted, shuffling closer in desperation as he reached out to cup your cheek in his hand.
“Like hell you were!” you jeered, pushing him back by the shoulders.
“I’m telling you the truth!” he exclaimed, unwilling to let you go as his eyes darted in panic, and his expression crumpled into despair. “Please, you have to believe me.”
Suddenly, the curtains drew open as a sultry, contralto voice rang out, “There you are!”
You jolted towards the source, finding yourself face-to-face with a glamorous lady in a rouge thigh-high slit dress. Her raven black hair was styled into a sleek, angular bob cut which was tucked behind her ears. A foxy smirk played across her bold red lips.
“Oh, Leon, why haven’t you introduced us? I’ve heard so much about you.”
95 notes · View notes
elisfashionn · 13 days
Text
𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐄
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𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 : billie eilish x fem!reader
𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 : Claire is best friends with billie eilish but what happens when she finds out she has a song written about their complicated relationship
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : alcohol
Billie was Claire’s best friend. She’s been by her side through thick and thin since birth. Finneas has watched the two grow up together and become closer each year. The girl has been there ever since Billie first released music in her bedroom. From her first song ‘Six Feet Under’ to her third album ‘Hit Me Hard And Soft’ coming out May 17th. Claire couldn’t be prouder.
She was currently getting ready to go to the release party for the album hosted by Interscope Records. She’s heard a few snippets of songs but Billie wanted her to hear the album in full along with everyone else. It wasn't like Billie to do that but Claire pushed it aside and it’s understandable since she’s not releasing any singles. The brunette was currently blow drying her hair while blasting Mac Miller from her speaker wondering about what the new music is going to sound like. After about 30 minutes and doing makeup she walked into her closet. The girl grabbed a basic tee along with some denim washed baggy skater jeans and finished off with a leather jacket and yellow lensed glasses. She grabbed her bag checking to see if she had everything with her (keys, makeup and other essentials) before heading to the friends and family listening party in LA.
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claire: Bae’s listening party is tonite.
billieeilish : ahhh so excited!
➥ claire: ily
User : so jealous! What’s ur fav?
➥ claire : i haven’t heard any yet!
User : tell billie i said hi
dominicfike: see you there
➥ claire : see ya
tarayummyy : midnight!!
It was a pain to find a place to park, she didn’t realize how many people were invited. Anxiety rushed through the girls body. So many thoughts were buzzing around ‘Who’s going to be there’ ‘How many people are there’ ‘What if I'm late’.
Her thoughts were broken as soon as she walked into the room. Billie stood there waiting to greet the girl, screaming with excitement.
“Oh my god you made it” she screeched making peoples heads turn towards them as she pulled Claire into a hug.
“I did! I wouldn’t miss it for the world!” it was the truth. Anything Billie did the girl had her full support. “Are you excited to hear the album” pulling away from the hug she stared at the girls face for 10 seconds before replying. “Of course I am! It better be good because I didn’t get an input this time" "It’s amazing! I’m going to go speak to more people. I was waiting for you to get here before I spoke to everyone else” with that Billie walked off but not before winking at the girl and flashing her a smile.
Claire looked around and spotted a bar automatically wandering over to it to grab herself a drink before going around to say hi to everyone else. She spotted Finneas talking with Claudia and one other girl who she didn’t recognise. 
“Hey Claire!” The strawberry blonde boy shouted out towards her. Walking over with a drink in hand she side hugged the boy as well as Claudia. She awkwardly stood there while the other conversed in conversation before her eyes landed on Billie again watching her every move and the way she interacted with people. She was so caring and so accepting towards everyone. Claire always knew that the girl would go far with music everything about her screamed rockstar. That's what she loved about her. Everything.
The girls would both say that over time their relationship has become complicated. The two grew up spending so much time together that their friendship became more. No one knew apart from the both of them of what happened behind closed doors. However tonight that changed...
Her thoughts got cut short after hearing the feedback from the mic indicating that Billie was about to start playing her album. Finneas no longer stood next to her but instead up on the stage with his younger sister. There were blue velvet couches to match the theme of the album cover color on the floor and one on the stage which was for the two O’Connells.
“Thank you all so much for being here, this album means a lot to me. It’s different to most of the stuff I've released but this is to my third album and a new era” the girl held up her drink which was echoed by everyone else in the crowd.
The first song ‘Skinny’ played and to say Claire was in tears is an understatement. She was bawling her eyes out listening carefully to each lyric that blasted through the speaks. She related to this song more than she wanted to. Her and Billie talk about everything and she knew this one hinted to the chats you've had together late at night.
It wasn’t long until LUNCH blasted through the speakers. This was one she’s not heard before nor even been mentioned.
 “I can eat that girl for lunch, yeah, she dances on my tongue, tastes like she might be the one’
Claire’s mouth was hung open. She was not expecting that opening but all she could think about was who “She” was. The girl felt jealous and she didn’t know why. Afterall her and Billie never had a label on anything.
 ‘Call me when you’re there, Said I bought you something rare and I left it under… Claire’
If her jaw wasn’t already touching the floor it sure is now. Some random girl sat next to her shaking her shoulders in shock. She had no idea who it was but all she could focus on was those blue eyes which were staring right back at her smirks forming on both of their lips. 
‘Taste like she might be the one’ The rest of the album they didn't take their eyes off of eachother. Something felt different after hearing that song. Something clicked. Billie watched her carefully analyzing her for each song she heard. This didn’t go unnoticed by her brother who was sitting back and watching everything fall into place.
Blue was the last song on the album. Claire obviously knew this one as she was in the room when Billie first wrote it years ago. It made her feel so proud that she put this on the album knowing everyone was waiting for her. And with that the album ended. People started getting up to get more drinks from the bar and to also congratulate the 22 year old on her new release. 
The curly haired girl finally found the girl after an hour giving her the biggest hug ever. Everything she did Claire admired her. In her eyes she was perfect. She always looked up to her. 
“Billie… What was that?” The girl cupped the singer's face. “What was what!” Billie grabbed the other girl's hands resting on her face and dropped them down between them still holding hands. “It sounded amazing! I loved it so much, it's definitely my favorite album you’ve ever made.” The girl giggled. “AND LUNCH! C’MON NOW” Claire almost shouted which caused Billie to shush her to quiet down. “We can talk about that later at the afterparty” and with that the girl disappeared again.
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Claire: if anyone asks. The album is a work of art.
User: IM SO EXCITED! 2 HOURS NOW!
➥User: WHAT? IT’S OUT FOR ME NOW
➥User: timezones…
Oliviarodirgo : If anyone asks. I’m not okay.
➥Claire: me neither bae
User: I CANT WAIT ANY LONGER
billieeilish : whos that hottie
➥Claire: idk you tell me xoxo
➥Billeeilish : its you xoxo
Claire was stumbling around Billie’s house after a few drinks talking to random people with the new confidence buzz. As always Billie threw a party after every release to celebrate properly. 
People are going round saying how good her album was, even though they weren’t at the listening party but listened at midnight. 
That’s when Claire felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned around a bit too quickly, stumbling around everywhere before grabbing ahold of the person's arms in front of her. She soon realized who it was. Billie stood there asking to pull her for a chat.
“Hey” this time Billie seemed nervous to talk. Claire turned her full body towards Billie before saying “Hey.” They both just stared into eachothers eyes trying to figure out what to say until Claire broke the silence. “Is the song ‘Lunch’ about me”. All the brunette did was look at the floor. Speechless. “Obviously it is…” she then rambled on about everything until she got shut up with a kiss…
A/N : Let me know if you want part 2. I think my writing is improving. lol, let me know! Also feel free to give me plot ideas! This one is over the place. AND THIS IS BILLIES BEST ALBUM. IF ANYONE WANTS TO GET ME TICKETS TO EVERY SHOW FEEL FREE TOO. I've listened to Billie since 2017 and not seen her once but its ok. NEXT YEAR IS MY YEAR TO SEE HER.
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moriwood · 8 months
Text
Pornographs — p.js
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park jongseong x male reader heavy angst 1.4k words
Two freelance pornstars have gotten awfully close with each other over the past year, masked to their audiences but almost unveiled to each other. Jay, who you suddenly realize to be less familiar than you originally thought, gives you a symbolic gift and a promise you wish he truly keeps.
includes: crying and cringy lines (again oops), people getting reallyyyyyyy personal warning: n/a i think :]]
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Your body may not be molded from Ancient Greek statues like your contemporaries in the industry but you know well enough how to manipulate your camera. You know how to position yourself, so that your masked face gently cradles the sunlight and your soft gaze glosses smooth as the silk blanket covering your body.
You assess each of the photos you took and smirk proudly. “Who won’t be salivating over pics like this?” you boast, already seeing the comments flood your mind. 
Another photoshoot session has been finished thanks to your friend Jay, who you have been collaborating with for the past year. Your account was only a few months old, with barely a hundred followers watching you strip anonymously. You don’t even know what went into your mind when you decided to meet up with a blank profile but it seems like you hit the jackpot when it turned out to be Jay. It’s not like you were even in the position to be picky about which men you met with back then.
“You good?” you ask Jay as he folds over the hotel’s bedspread that you accidentally stripped off while taking photos a while ago.
He nods, sighing as he lies on the king size bed you share. “Don’t your fans get mad I’m the only other guy in your posts for the past few months?” he curiously asks.
“I mean, they already think we’re dating,” you pause in indignation, “why have you been meeting me exclusively then? For sure, you’ve been receiving offers too left and right.”
“Sorry for them but I have already signed an exclusivity contract with this world-renowned photographer. With his impeccable tastes, I fear nobody can compare,” Jay teases.
You cackle. You would have long forgotten this life of being a social media pornstar had it not been for him. In between the men who only saw you as some toy being passed around, here is Jay who stays, sharing these chaste moments with you, no matter how short it lasts.
Jay grabs the camera from your lap and murmurs to himself, tracing his fingers along the scratches on its plastic body. He meets your eyes with an indiscernible emotion.  “You’ve had this camera for so long, don’t you want to replace it?” 
“I don’t think I’ve earned enough with this career yet,” you lament, “you don’t know how many meals I skipped to buy this.”
“Isn’t it a great investment though? Like you’re really great with the camera,” Jay explains, “and you can definitely do more than just artistic nudes, like legit filmmaking. Imagine the two of us, co-directing, that type of shit.”
“If I had the money, I wouldn’t be posting nudes of myself online, Jay,” you deadpan. “Why are you even asking? You're gonna sell me a secondhand camera?”
“Nah, just asking. We should be going to college but we’re here… filming porn.”
Jay carefully places your camera on the bedside table and reaches for his carelessly placed backpack on the floor. From it he pulls out a large red box, your gaze immediately drifting towards it.
“Okay, don’t be surprised. I may or may not have something to give you,” Jay smiles.
Your eyes widen as you realize that Jay has bought a new camera, the receipt taped to it rubbing its expensive price to your face. 
You howl. “What the fuck? Aren’t we earning the same… You're way richer than I am! You even booked this hotel-”
“Just take this,” he calmly says, placing the bright red box on top of your lap. He then sits beside you, caressing your thigh.
“Why are you even giving me this? What do you need from me? Do I owe you something?” you shyly ask, mesmerized by the details of the new camera Jay just bought. Newly released, might actually be the most expensive model in the market right now. You can’t think of a reason to own something of this kind when all that you’ve taken are these tasteless nude photos.
“Think of it as a birthday gift or something,” Jay hesitantly replies.
“It’s not even my birthday yet,” you whisper, attempting to stop yourself from bursting into tears. You just didn’t expect this generosity from the only person who you’ve let into this taboo life of yours. 
“This might be the best gift I’ve ever gotten,” you smile in between your teary eyes. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
“I’m not asking for anything in return, just…”
Jay is at a loss for words. There’s something wrong, you notice, a lilt in his voice.
“It’s not a birthday gift, is it?” you worriedly ask, your hand over Jay’s.
Jay looks away. “I don’t think… This might be the last time we’re seeing each other.”
Now you’re at a loss for words. Whatever feeling was boiling within the depths of your heart, you never really knew who Jay was. Both of you were about to enter college, both with a fondness for film and photography… and it ends there. You mask yourselves for your audience and even in this inviting bed, there are a lot of things the both of you are unaware of. Seems like this chapter is closing for Jay.
“But we can still see each other-”
Jay closes his eyes, in fear of the pain he cannot avoid. “Just… don’t forget me. Use this camera while I’m gone. Then we’ll meet again, and I’ll be looking at everything. We’ll cross paths, I promise.”
You don’t understand why you’re so confused. You don’t understand why you want to curse the world for not giving you the chance to know Jay in a different context. Your other hand starts to grip on the bedspread, wrinkling it again. You want to know where Jay’s coming from, why he’s even doing this. Had you met him under another circumstance, you wouldn’t be facing this farewell now. You wouldn’t be mulling over where the line is drawn, until where can you walk with him, and until when can the both of you ignore the lines that are slowly being erased.
“But you don’t have to-”
Jay pulls you in as you sob, embracing you tightly. And if his lips meet yours for the first time you’ve been together, nobody says anything about it. Light and sweet, but you taste the bitterness in the salt in your tears. Jay is the first man you’ve kissed. Regret shames you that you only got the chance to reveal each other’s hearts in your final meeting.
“Jay,” you beg, “please.”
You caress his thigh, attempting to touch beneath his shorts. He pulls it back and holds it tightly.
“Let’s not do things we’ll regret,” he whispers, cradling your face with his hand, attempting to wipe away the tears running down your cheeks. “I’ll come back, I’ll make sure of that. And I’ll take you out on a date like you always said you wanted to do.”
This is no longer a simple film of them, a scandal for others to lust over, something to make profit of. No scripts and no acting at play. You know that there is a man who flirts better, kisses better, fucks better, but you don’t want to let him go. You know Jay in an unfamiliar manner, and your relationship grew with him in a way more unknown way. In a different world, you would have loved to love a man like Jay.
You can only whisper, “I hope you’re happy wherever you are, Jay.”
He weakly grins as he kisses you again. “Jongseong. My name’s Jongseong.”
The sun has set, hunger and thirst long forgotten. The both of you soon fall asleep in tears, and you weren’t surprised to find the spot next to you cold the morning after. His traces are nowhere to be found, the only remnants being the photos and videos of a masked man in your camera. His phone number cannot be reached, only his messages of pleasantries remaining. And on top of the bedside table is the new camera gifted by Jay… by Jongseong.
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author’s note: here's ur jay fic @ldrei 🤗 i actually got a reason ready for why jay did what he did, just gotta handle my own college shit rn before i flesh it out i apologize ✨
— moriwood.
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x-liv25-jamieswife · 1 month
Note
For the release of ttpd, can a girl get some sad Grayson hcs 😔✊ <3
sad grayson head canons
of course<3. i eat up sad tig hcs so i might make some for the rest of the brothers and avery (probably will). hope you like them! this one is going to be kinda dark (i like making my favorite tig characters suffer) so trigger warning for self-harm and suicidal thoughts/attempts. take care of yourselves, and try to talk to someone if you can. as someone who's been through a lot of shit last year, i can promise you things, at some point, start looking up (this might be corny, but i felt the need to say it) (i may be projecting in some of these cause i love making myself see myself in my fav characters if that makes sense).
grayson used to go out (like to the park or smth) and watch all of the kids playing with each other wishing he could be like them.
sometimes he gets so self-destructive he doesn't eat or drink water. he just lies in bed wishing he could magically die.
grayson heard the prochecy, the black dog, loml, and down bad from ttpd for the first time and started sobbing uncontrollably (so many other songs but yk, im not gonna write all of them down)
when he gets in those self destructive moods, he tends to piss people off/make people sad on purpose so that they'll get made and leave him (he secretly wishes that someone can see through all of his pain and be there for him)
very dark so trigger warning (even though i gave one at the beginning. you can never be too sure), grayson used to have scars on his ribs bc he would hurt himself. he never cut deep enough for it to actually scar permanently bc he 'has an image to uphold' according to tobias.
although swimming is a coping mechanism, it's also a form of self-harm for him sometimes. he swims until he can't feel his legs anymore, and sticks his head underwater for extended periods of time until he feels like he's about to drown.
i actually saw this in a conan gray interview, but he used to cross the street without looking left and right hoping a car would hit him.
he hears emily's voice in his head more often than he lets on. whenever he hears her voice, he'll press his nails so hard into his palms, they start to bleed.
he somehow managed to get his hands on some anti-depressant behind tobias' back and started taking them, but, sometimes, when he was especially suicidal, he would try to overdose on the pills. it never worked.
he's convinced himself that he deserves the pain he causes himself/the people cause him.
tobias knew about his unhealthy coping mechanisms but didn't do shit to help him bc didn't want him to 'soften up' making grayson think his grandfather thought he deserved the pain.
grayson will purposely make himself stay awake for days on end bc he doesn't think he deserves to get sleep sometimes (he needs to work. in his head, everything will go to shit if he doesn't)
sometimes he'll go swing on this swing they have in blackwood forest to feel like a kid again (it sometimes works)
he has this stuffed teddy bear nash gave him when he was a baby that he sometimes sleeps with when he feels alone (even though he'd grown now).
this one is extremely dark, probably the darkest one yet so tw for suicide attempt(ish its not really one).......... at the age of fifteen, he actually bought pills to overdose on and set a date (the 14th of may (really random)). he was going to off himself that day but didn't end up doing it bc his brothers dragged him out to play chess (idk, anything works). he said he'd do it some other day but never go to it. every year, on that day, he celebrates not offing himself bc he wouldn't have met the people he met and wouldn't have gotten to feel the happiness he now feels if he had.
he's convinced himself he isn't worthy of love (this one also applies to jamie, a lot of these actually do in my opinion, they're quite similar when you think about it. probably will make a post about this)
when he was a baby, he'd imagine his stuffed teddy was actually his mom when he felt the need to be held by a parental figure. it almost never worked, but he would always try again hoping it would magically start working.
he has panic attacks on a regular basis. ones where he starts pulling at his hair and stuff. he thinks he's going crazy after these, but avery reassures him he isn't (or nash, but i like the idea of avery being there for him as a friend/sister figure)
when he was younger, he used to ask people if they wanted to come to his house and play with him. they said yes but only bc he was rich. the second they'd step foot into his house, they'd leave him and start exploring.
this sort of goes with the hc i made that he denies himself food and stuff, but, when he gets cold at night and wants to lower the temperature, he'll force himself to stay in bed and take the blankets off to let himself suffer.
he secretly wishes people weren't so scared of him bc then he might have friends.
sometimes, he starts feeling so numb with everything he goes back to the cliff where emily died just to feel smth.
he's such a perfectionist he would cry whenever he got lower than a 90% at school.
it might not look like it, but he really cares about people's opinions of him and will do everything in his power to 'fix' what these people think is wrong with him.
whenever he gets mad at the world or at himself, he'll go to one of those places where you smash and break everything. when he's done, he makes himself sit in the mess and look at all of the destruction he caused (he sees this as him destroying everything in his life (like his relationships, etc))
to end on a brighter note, here's a happy grayson hc :)
when he was younger and wanted smth, he would jump with his hands clasped together begging for it with the cutest puppy eyes ever (i find this one really adorable and can literally picture it in my head).
not proof read so i apologize for any spelling mistakes<3. again, there are resources you can use if you ever need help. if you can, try to get a therapist, and, if you can't, talk to a friend/family member or call a helpline. things can get better. sending everyone lots of love.
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madaqueue · 8 days
Text
eternally, yours
chapter 3 | nonmaleficence
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synopsis: 'forever' is a peculiar concept - how can something persist, unchanged, throughout time? when our bodies halt their aging, do our minds continue to evolve? do our hearts? choso was comfortable with his version of forever, one of solitary loneliness; that is, until he meets you. forced to confront the harsh realities of being human, the fragility of life, his definition of 'forever' changes as he stares down the barrel of eternity.
pairing: vampire!choso kamo x f!reader
themes/content: non-curse modern au. fluff. language, mentions of blood, mentions of death/loss. 18+, MDNI
word count: 2.7k
a/n: i had a really bad tummy ache last night but powered through to finish this chapter tell me i'm brave (also...may or may not have started the next chapter and there will be smut in it if it kills me)
previous chapter | series masterlist | next chapter
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The next week blows by, moments blurry as you await your time with Choso. The only clear moments are the ones with Megumi, taking him to the park to play with his new friend or helping him care for his remaining shoulder injury.
As you hold an ice pack to him a wince leaves his lips, nevertheless leaning into the cool touch of the plastic.
“M’sorry,” you mutter as he adjust uncomfortably beneath your touch.
Gathering all the strength a six-year-old can muster, he turns to you, a false grin plastered on his face. “It’s okay,” he chirps, “it’ll make me stronger.”
“It’ll make you stronger,” you hum in agreement, ruffling his hair as he laughs.
Things weren’t easy, but they weren’t nearly as hard as they had been. The warm summer air seemed to settle something within you, and within the ‘father’ who claimed to share a house with you.
He wasn’t home nearly as much, and while you wanted to ask, to pry, to understand, you just couldn’t bring yourself to; your curiosity was overrun with the need for protection. You had to keep Megumi safe, and pestering the man who housed him was not the way to do so.
As Friday finally approached, you found yourself nervous to spend time with Choso again, fear threatening to override your excitement: Would he still like you? Would he still want you?
The sound of knocking hits your ears, faint at first, but growing stronger with each passing second. Like he needed you to hear him.
Your legs carry you to the front door of your apartment, the only home of yours that Choso had seen, as your hand hesitates over the handle. Determination overtakes you, twisting the handle and opening it.
Choso stands in the hallway, a beautiful dark red shirt under the black of his suit. God, he looks perfect.
A slight grin spreads across his features. “Shit,” he mutters to himself, “you look gorgeous.”
Your cheeks flush as you feel his eyes cover you, taking in the unintentionally matching maroon dress that covers your body. Despite the velvet that wraps around your torso you felt deeply exposed to him, as if he could see into your very being.
“Thanks,” you hum, “so do you.”
His grin widens, cheeks threatening to blush as he reaches out a hand for yours.
“Shall we?” he asks.
Grabbing his hand, your fingers intertwine with his, a coolness overtaking your body as you step into the hallway. “We shall,” you smile, grip tightening on his as you lead him from your apartment.
༝ ˚ 。⋆ ༝ ˚ 。⋆
Sage.
The first thing you notice upon entering into the restaurant is the scent of sage, a mellow earthiness meeting your senses as you step inside.
It’s dark, only lit by the occasional candle, soft piano playing in the background. Despite having rented this apartment for years you had never ventured into this restaurant, feeling it was too far above you, a place you never dared go.
Yet, now, with Choso’s arm wrapped around you, it feels comfortable, as if you belonged here.
Something about him, something inexplicable, put you at ease from the moment your skin made contact with his. As the host led you deeper and deeper into the building, you never failed to appreciate the safety you felt around him.
Sliding into a booth at the very back of the space, you glance across the menus placed in front of you. Your eyes widen at the prices, but almost as if he could sense your discomfort, Choso preempts. “This is my treat, of course - consider it a ‘thank you’ for letting me stay over.”
“Choso-”
“Besides, it was my idea to come here,” he smirks. “Maybe you can pick the next place.”
Warmth covers your body as you turn your gaze to the table. He wants another date? You can’t help but smile at the prospect.
Shortly after being seated, a waitress takes your drink orders and you’re left alone with Choso once again. Your eyes stray from his face down his body, the threads of his dark suit taught around his biceps, the dark red perfectly contrasting his pale skin.
“So,” he hums, pulling you out of your thoughts, “how’s Megumi doing?”
Quickly meeting his eyes, you nervously try to hide your obvious ogling. “He’s doing better,” you smile, “thanks to you.”
A soft chuckle rumbles in his throat. “I’m glad to hear it, he’s a good kid. He reminds me of my brother.”
Pausing, you tilt your head. “I didn’t know you had siblings,” you observe.
“Yeah,” Choso grins, “I have two, actually. My younger brother, Yuji, is probably around Megumi’s age. He’s sweet, and funny, and strong, and-” he cuts himself off, cheeks flushed a light shade of pink. “Sorry, I don’t mean to ramble about him.”
“He sounds amazing,” you smile. “I’ll have to meet him someday.”
“Yeah,” Choso sighs contentedly, “you will.”
Raising your glass to your lips, you take a sip in the comfortable silence. “So, are your parents doctors too?”
The man across from you stiffens momentarily. “No, um, they weren’t.”
Shit. You of all people should know not to ask about family, given how fucked up your own is. “Sorry, I-”
“It’s okay,” a gentle smile, the same forgiving one he gave you the first night you met, forms across his features. “They died a long, long time ago, and I don’t really even remember them anymore. It feels like it’s always just been me and my brothers.” Our own little family, he thinks to himself.
“Oh…I didn’t know.”
“I know,” he follows, understanding and empathy lacing his tone. “What about you, what do your parents do?”
An ironic laugh bubbles inside your mind. You opened the door for him to ask, of course he would step through it. Now, you just have to navigate through the maze of your past. “They, um, shit, I don’t know.”
Your gaze falls to the table, hands fidgeting nervously in your lap. Choso doesn’t prod, doesn’t press, waiting patiently for you to be ready as you attempt to steady your breathing.
“My…my dad left when I was pretty young, and my mom died after Megumi was born.”
Raising your eyes slightly you meet his, the darkness of them offering comfort, as if to say ‘it’s alright.’
A soft chuckle escapes your lips. “I guess we’re kinda similar in that, huh? Both of us taking care of a kid when we’re just kids ourselves.”
Choso nods sincerely, reaching out his hand to take yours from across the table. His touch is cool as his thumb traces your palm. The lightness, the love, that seems to seep through his body hangs in the air. It’s almost enough to make you tell him more, tell him everything, but the dark hallways of your past haunt you, too afraid to turn around and face them yourself, let alone with him.
Besides, he doesn’t deserve that; he shouldn’t be haunted by the ghosts of your memories. Would he still want you if he could see the shadowy outlines of the things you left behind, the things that left you behind?
A comfortable silence falls between you as he continues tracing his fingers over your wrist, pure adoration flowing from his hand to yours.
Before you know it, you have both finished your drinks as Choso stands to guide you from the restaurant. His arm wraps around your waist, finding their new home along the small of your back.
Outside, the night air pricks at your skin, shockingly cool compared to the heat of the day. It was barely dark when you arrived, but now the moon shines brightly above you, illuminating your path home.
“Pretty,” you murmur to yourself as you glance at the sky above you. The stars shine against the dark blanket of the night, the full face of the moon casting a soft glow over you.
Leaning your head against his shoulder as you walk, you can’t help but feel a sense of peace, a deep tranquility, as your body presses against his.
“You really do look beautiful,” his low voice breaks the silence as he glances down at you.
A giggle erupts from your lips at the compliment. Stepping away, you move to twirl in your dress, before your ankle suddenly catches on the sidewalk.
Tumbling down, your body caves above you, concrete scraping against your skin. A string of curses leave your mouth as you land on the cold ground, sharp pain coursing through your body. Focusing your eyes on your hands, all you can see is red, blood pooling from your open wounds. Tears begin falling from your eyes as the pain settles, your ankle throbbing and palms aching.
Choso stands frozen above you, unable to move from where his feet plant him. His senses are screaming, overtaken with the sudden urge to consume. Flames of desire cover his body, heat building as his hands form into fists, afraid that the slightest motion may cause his control to crumble before him. “Y-you’re bleeding,” he whispers to himself.
A broken cry leaves your throat, hands reaching down your leg as bloody handprints imprint on your calf. “Ow,” you sob, unable to form any coherent thoughts above the pain.
Your voice pulls the man from his thoughts, breaking the cast of his panic as his mind switches to focus. “Hey, hey, you’re okay,” he murmurs to you, bending down. His gaze quickly covers your body, assessing the damage. “I’m gonna get you home and get you patched up, okay?”
All you can do is nod weakly, tears continuing to spill down your cheeks.
Choso loops his arms under your body, picking you up with ease as he carefully avoids your ankle. Your hands fall into your lap as your head leans against his shoulder, whimpers occasionally falling from your lips as he hurriedly carries you back to your home.
You arrive at the front door almost impossibly fast before he unlocks it and swings it open. Kicking his shoes haphazardly to the side he moves through your apartment, finding an available bathroom and setting you on the counter.
Taking in a deep breath, Choso steadies himself before returning to the task at hand. He knows if he loses focus, if he allows himself to linger, he risks losing control, losing you.
Rummaging through your cabinets he finds the tools he needs, laying out bandages across the table.
“This might hurt a little, okay?” he hums, prepping a cotton swab with rubbing alcohol.
“Okay,” you murmur, “I trust you, Cho.”
His eyes lock on yours, a carnal desperation behind his irises you nearly don’t catch, before he fixes his attention to your hands. He gingerly holds your wrist as the gauze makes contact with your palm, searing pain shooting up your arm.
“Ow,” you can’t help but whimper.
“Shh, it’s okay,” he whispers, “you’re doing great, just a little bit more, okay?”
Biting your lip in an attempt to quiet your cries, you nod again. Something about his voice, the empathetic deepness to it, truly does put your body at rest. As he continues talking you through the next steps of cleaning and dressing your wounds, it really does feel less painful the more you hear him. Each coo of “it’s okay,” calms you down more and more, until you’re nearly unaware of the aches that once roamed your body.
Shifting back he begins the process of wrapping your ankle, carefully avoiding excess pressure that could evoke even a twinge of discomfort.
Stepping away, he smiles up at you. “All done,” he grins.
Glancing down, you admire his work: your hands are cleaned and bandaged, your ankle held in place, no lingering remnants of the bloodied mess you had been moments prior.
As he washes his hands in the sink next to you, Choso finally feels like he can breathe again. Pride blooms in his chest at his self-restraint, his ability to care for you even when his body demanded something else, something more.
Prior to this, he had never had trouble with blood, something he was normally nearly bored of. To him it was mundane, a necessary part of survival and nothing more. He encountered it at work and when he fed, but it had never distracted him quite like this. Something about it, something about you, taunted him, drawing him in.
But of course, he can’t - he knows he can’t. He never even intended to be this close to you, hoping your few chance meetings would have been easily forgotten, blending into the memories of his life. Yet, another part of him knew that wouldn’t be possible, the moments with you bright in contrast to the darkness he had been living in. Once he got a taste of the sun, how could he be content with the moon?
The feeling of your hand on his shoulder shakes him from his thoughts. “I think your hands are clean enough, Choso,” you chuckle from beside him.
Looking down, his hands had begun to turn red from the hot water pouring over them, an unnoticed sensation. “Oh, yeah,” he laughs distractedly.
“Thanks again,” you hum, the pain of your fall now fully subsided, leaving only a dull ache in its absence.
“Just doin’ my job,” he grins meekly.
Reaching your arms out to him, you pull him into your embrace. Still seated on the counter your legs wrap around his waist as your hands loosely hang around his neck.
So close. You are so close. His thoughts threaten to spiral again as he looks at you. He can smell the mix of your perfume and lingering metallic scent on your skin; he feels electric, his entire body vibrating as his mind begins to cloud.
“I, um, I guess I should get going,” he nervously blurts, beginning to pull from your grasp.
He can’t stay here, he can’t be here any longer. He has to go, now.
You can practically feel his breath on your face as your eyes lock on his, your grip on him tightening. “Choso,” you purr, pulling him closer.
God, do you even know what you do to him? It has to be on purpose, right? The way you lick your lips as your eyes travel to his, the warmth of your body against his chest making his breath hitch.
“Why don’t you stay? I couldn’t let you go home this late, what if you get hurt?”
His mind is swirling, he feels a million miles away as your hands trace small patterns against the back of his neck. He needs to go. He needs to. But, fuck, why can’t he bring himself to pull away? Why can’t he leave?
“O-okay,” he stutters, barely aware of the affirmation leaving his mouth. A grin tugs at your lips before he continues. “But I’m on the couch, alright?” His last ditch effort at maintaining his control, too afraid to tempt the fates and share a bed with you.
Smirking, you sigh. “I’ll grab you some blankets,” you hum.
Gingerly hopping down from the counter you make your way through your room as Choso practically bolts outside.
Shit, shit, shit, he thinks. He shouldn’t be here. He should have gone home, he shouldn’t have even come on this date, he shouldn’t have kissed you at all. He should have ignored you, shoved down whatever feelings blossomed inside him, and continued his life the way he had always known: alone.
He can’t hurt you, he can’t. And deep down, the fear that he might, haunts him. Staying the night with you is a bad idea, prompting him to take risks he can’t afford. Solidifying his resolve he stands from the couch, grabbing his sport coat from where it had been thrown against the back of your kitchen chair and walking towards his shoes at the front door, before your voice calls from behind him.
“I just got you the same ones as last time, I hope that’s okay. You weren’t too cold or anything, right?”
Turning on his heel to face you, an involuntary smile, one torn between gratitude and fear, tugs at his lips. “No,” he murmurs, his resolution cracking as he returns to stand in front of you, collecting the blankets in his arms, “everything was perfect, thank you.”
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stevie-petey · 2 months
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HIHIHIHII can i please request a blurb where bug jon steve and nancy have a sleepover or having fun together? and maybe the kids can be included?
I LOVE YOU SO MUCH AND UR WORK UGH MAKES ME WANNA CRY 😭🎀
of course ! n thank you for the compliment omg
enjoy <3
"dude, what if jonathan had become your brother or something?" mike asks dustin with disgust in his voice as he watches you and jonathan help arrange the picnic blanket. nancy helps steve with the platters of food you had so carefully prepared. it's the first day of spring and youd been adamant that you, all the teens, and the party have a small picnic in the park to get some fresh air.
"dude!" dustin hits his shoulder, entirely unamused. "dont remind me about that, it was a close call."
"at least he isnt dating your sister now." mike groans.
max slides next to him on the park bench. "who is dating who again?"
"nancy is with jonathan and y/n has some weird thing with steve going on." lucas explains, but even he doesnt quite understand a lot of it still, and he frowns. "although, for a while there we thought jonathan and y/n would get married while nancy was with steve."
"they were not going to get married." dustin shrieks, absolutely horrified by that idea.
"im confused." now max is the one that frowns. "so jonathan and y/n werent dating?"
"yes." dustin and mike say, while lucas and will say, "no."
"that wasnt an answer." el points out, slightly confused yet content to listen to the conversation.
maxs frown deepens, now completely confused about the relationships between all the teens. "none of you are helping."
suddenly you appear, steve following close behind, and you flick dustins ear. "if you guys are done gossiping about our love lives, im about to lay the cake out."
"ow!" your brother rubs his now sore ear. "whyd you flick me?"
"you were the closest." you shrug at him before glancing at max. "and to answer your question: no, i never dated jonathan."
"allegedly," steve whispers, winking at the kids, which causes them to laugh. when you turn to glare at him, he quickly shuts his mouth and gulps. "sorry?"
you roll your eyes at him and point towards the cake still in his car. "grab the dessert before i throw something at you."
"yes maam," he sighs, ducking his head down as he hurries over to the car to retrieve the cake.
the kids laugh again, this time at steves expense, and nancy and jonathan now join. when notice the laughter, nancy looks around and tries to understand what shes missed. "did something happen?"
dustin opens his mouth, but you quickly cover it in fear of what he may say. "nope, nothing. now, lets all just grab our food-"
a scream, followed by a thud of two bodies colliding, interrupts you.
everyone turns towards the source of the sound and find steve and jonathan, covered in cake, sprawled on the ground.
immediately the kids lose their minds laughing, dustin practically falls off of the bench as he hunches over in laughter. meanwhile, you and nancy rush over to the teens in concern yet slight amusement.
you stand over steve and jonathan, a smirk on your face. they look so fucking pathetic covered in cake. "now, boys. what did your mothers say about playing with your food?"
"not funny," jonathan grumbles, wiping cream out of his eyes before angrily pointing at steve. "someone decided to trip over a tree branch and take the other down with him."
"was it you?" nancy asks innocently, a glint in her eyes. you giggle at her quip while jonathan closes his eyes and sighs.
steve gives everyone a thumbs up, though its hard to tell due to his finger covered in a thick layer of cake. he sees this, thinks for a moment, and then brings his thumb to his mouth. "mmm, not bad, y/n. this a new recipe?"
you and nancy groan in unison while the kids all look at one another in varying states of disbelief. mike looks disappointed, dustin is ashamed, el is still giggling, and lucas just puts his face in his hands.
"seriously, im expected to believe that y/n saw something in those two?" max says out loud to no one in particular.
"nancy, too." mike sighs, now even more disappointed.
dustin drops his head down onto the picnic table and sighs as well. "i dont wanna talk about it."
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futbol16 · 1 year
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Alexia Jr  • Alexia Putellas & Alba Putellas
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To answer some of you, my requests are open and I love to get anything, however it might take me a bit to get to it! Feedback is also always appreciated and thank you for the immense amount of support!
Request:  Where R is Alexia’s and Alba's little sister and joins the Barca team. For some reason the whole team only seems to notice the older and the same goes for the international teams and media. R feels in the shadow and doesn’t want to hurt her sister's feelings so bottle everything up. You can take the storyline wherevee, just in need of your wonderful angst and perfect writing :))))))
Word count: 3,4k
The second the final whistle is blown you take off towards the stands with a wide grin as you spot your sister waiting, her arms spread out. Reaching her, Alba pulls you into a tight hug before she lifts your head to pepper your face in kisses.
“I’m so proud of you mi pequeña!” she exclaims happily and you giggle in her hold. Barca had just won the ElClásico 4-0 with yourself scoring a goal too and to say you were ecstatic was an understatement. You knew if they could, your mother and eldest sister, would be celebrating with you too. Unfortunately, with Alexia being out due her ACL the physios room was one she visited more often than she’d like, it’s where she was right now as well, your mother having been the one to drive her to the appointment. 
“Vamos, celebrate with your team” Alba playfully shooed you away and as you hopped off the stairs you turned back to her.
“Will you take me home-” 
“Yes, I’ll be waiting outside. Now go!” she smiles at you and with a quick wave to her you’re off to where your teammates are jumping around. As you push yourself between Patri and Aitana the shorter of the two turns to you with a look of hope.
“Is Alexia coming tomorrow?” The question isn’t one that surprises you despite it being rather sudden, especially in the middle of the team celebrating, but it is how it’s been the past few months.
You grew up in the Barca academy, eager to follow in your sister’s footsteps after she made her debut in the first team at 18. Your style of play and determination reminded those around you of your last name and just before your 19th birthday you were going to finally make it to the senior team. However, life decided you weren’t ready yet and with a sudden injury you were ruled out for 4 months. The invitation to the A team seemed further out of reach than ever before. 
It was late May when you were asked again, and this time you jumped at the opportunity of playing alongside the bests. It was a day you and Alexia would never forget. The toothy grin on her face was practically blinding as you were introduced to the team, her eyes glowing with pride as you nervously fiddled with the hem of your new Barca jersey. She had been waiting to play with you since forever, one of her biggest dreams was to have her littlest sister play the sport the two of you loved so much, together. 
Though, much like before, things have gotten in the way. This time it was Alexia who got injured on the eve of the Euros and so your hopes of playing club football together had to be postponed.
Later that night when Alba parks the car at your family home, you pull yourself out of the car and close the door behind you as you sling your bag over your shoulder.
“Ay! Don’t slam my car door!” she scolds you and you roll your eyes. 
“Hurry up Albs, I’m hungry!” you whine and she chuckles at you as she unlocks the front door.
“Mis hijas!” comes the unmistakable voice of your mother and you give her a quick hug.
“Smells great mami, what did you make?” you wander into the kitchen, following the warmth and the smell of the food.
“Always hungry, huh?” Alexia speaks from behind you, her crutches hitting the tiled floor as she limps into the kitchen. You only shrug at her with a grin as you walk over and lean into her, careful to not put too much of your weight on her and she leans her chin on the top of your head, the crutches not allowing her to give you a proper hug.
“Nothing new there” Alba teases as she walks by, ruffling your hair and you swat at her hand.
“Alba stop bullying your sister!” your mother calls out and you stick your tongue out at the brunette, Alexia laughing at the two of you.
“Mami!”
Walking into the training facility you let your training bag slide down your shoulder and drop to your seat with a thump which has Claudia looking up from her place.
“Y/N! Could you ask Alexia if she wants to come to the team dinner after the match with Atlético?” she asks you and a frustrated huff leaves your lips as you pull your shirt over your head.
“Hola to you too Pina. Why don’t you ask her yourself?” you mumble, eyes focused on tying your shoes and missing the look on her face as she wonders why you were in such a mood.
“Just figured it would be easier if you did, as her sister, of course, it’s just quicker-”
“Sure” you grumble as you cut her off and the locker room door closes behind you before she can add more. She stares after you for a second, a frown on her face but she shrugs her shoulders, instead moving to get ready.
As you walk out onto the field you check your phone for any important notifications before you’d silence your phone. With a few clicks however, you end up on the team’s instagram, the post about the match is already out and this time it’s your face on the picture ‘Un dia de partit’.
You make the mistake of opening the comment section, an action you’ve done too many times, now sort of becoming a routine even though you knew it wasn’t healthy. 
Can’t wait for Alexia to be back!
It’s a shame the better Putellas can’t play
Vamosss chicas!
For a second I thought it was Alexia 
-> I wish!
You set your jaw as you read over them, much of the comments are similar and you bite at your lip not noticing someone approaching you until they’ve taken the phone out of your hands and pocketed it. You turn your glare on them and Mapi pulls her mouth into a straight line.
“Stop hurting yourself niña” she says softly, gesturing to your lips with a nod of her head and you release it from between your teeth, running your tongue over it to soothe the slight stinging.
“Come on, you're my training partner for today” she pulls at your arm and you follow her with another huff, but she ignores it as she passes you a ball, knowing it was the only way to get your mind off the other nasty comments you’ve received. She’s seen them, but she never brought it up. If the sight of the cruel words hurt her, she couldn’t imagine what you were feeling.
You’re more than grateful to have someone like Mapi looking out for you, her being one of the only people to appreciate you for who you are and not because of who your sister is. She has known you since you were 12, she watched you grow into the woman you are today and she was thrilled to have you on the team. She’d make sure other’s opinions and words wouldn’t get to you, not when you were playing the way you were, not when you were the little sister she’s never had.
Instagram isn’t the only media platform that had their negative thoughts on you, or lack of thoughts as they were more focused on your sister. You understood their admiration towards Alexia because she was your role model too. But another part of you was jealous, how could they still only be talking about her when she hadn’t been playing since July? Though you feel guilty everytime you think about it, you can’t deny that the lack of interest in you from not only the media and the federation, but also your own teammates hurt you deeply.
To the world however, to Spain, you were a replacement. One Putellas out, the other one in. You went from being a super sub with 20-30 minutes of game time to having your name in the starting XI. You were one of the best assets on the team, having heavily contributed to Spain’s success in the Euro’s until your country was knocked out. But all everyone saw was ‘Putellas’ on the back of your shirt, the name you wanted printed there. The name only reminded them of Alexia, and so your success and talent was disregarded.
 Tears sprang to your eyes as you listened to the journalist's questions. You were in a press conference with Jorge Vilda, the man insisting that you do it since your sister couldn’t. 
“Do you have any news on when Alexia Putellas will be coming back?” you clear your throat as you muster up a smile.
“Her rehabilitation is going really well and she’s going to be back on the pitch playing football before you know it, I can assure you” your answer satisfies many of them as they nod enthusiastically and you lean back in your seat for a second.
“Is it hard having to live up to your name?” there’s a pause in another journalist’s question and many others look up from their notepads. “We know how good Alexia is, the whole world knows her name and she’s Spain’s national treasure. Do you fear you won’t be good enough?” 
That’s a harsh blow and you digest his words. He’s basically telling you you’re nothing compared to your sister and you cast a glance towards Vilda who actively avoids eye contact with you. And they say favoritism doesn’t exist in team sports.
“Excuse me?” is what comes out of your mouth, in a more offended tone than you intended on and Jorge shoots you a look.
“I’m just wondering if you think you could reach her level of football” the journalist replies calmly, a wicked look on his face and you realize he’s trying to rile you up.
“Alexia is phenomenal, there’s no doubt about that and I’ll work hard, just like I have, to better myself and play alongside her.” is the answer you settle on and for the last thirty minutes of the press conference, you impatiently wait for it to end, your eyes glancing down at your watch every few minutes.
When you finally exit the room you almost walk straight into someone and as you look up to apologize you’re shocked to see your sister standing in front of you. She has a large smile on her face, one that falters as you wordlessly hug her, keeping your head firmly tucked under her chin. She notices the way you tiredly melt into her touch and she rocks the two of you side to side, as much as her knee and the crutches allow her to.
You contemplate on mentioning what happened, you want to tell her how hurt you are, you want her to know because she and Alba have always protected you from the harsh words of people. But you don’t. You decide against saying anything and you silently blink back the tears that have reappeared. Alexia already has too much pressure on her. Her career being on pause at the moment, media appearances that exhaust her and her injury which has taken a toll on her mental health, even though she’s doing much better now.
You don’t want to put this on her too and you don’t want her to worry. Most importantly, you didn’t want her to feel upset with you or for you. Much like your sisters, your priority was also them and their feelings. Since the death of your father, where you were much younger than either of them, the three of you and your mother had become more united, closer and it was something you cherished. You didn’t want anything ruining that and so you’d have to learn to live with these comments that made you feel like a nobody. 
That was easier said than done, like many things. Your teammates were only ever interested in Alexia’s well being, ignoring your existence when your sister would visit training and team outings, but you weren’t mad at Alexia. It wasn’t her fault. 
You tried your damn hardest to ignore the hurt whenever the fans would demand your attention only to ask about Alexia and you even ignored your own thoughts that plagued your mind. With every kick of the ball you asked yourself if Alexia would have done it better, if that one journalist and the many before, after and between were right and you’d never be half as good as her.
It got to a point where you almost asked Jonatan and Joan if promoting you to the senior team was the right decision. Patri has unknowingly stopped you in doing so as she pulled you away from the coach’s office door to walk with you to the training pitch. 
It didn’t take long for your sisters to notice the change in your mood and behavior. Truthfully it wasn’t hard to spot but the people around you didn’t pay enough attention to it. You were more anxious and short tempered, you were hard to talk to, mainly because you kept silent. You also smiled less. Their happy little sister went from being the light of their day to being the reason they shared worried looks when you weren’t looking. 
It had been during a family dinner, just the four of you, that Eli brought up something that rubbed you the wrong way and you felt your throat closing as you swallowed hard. 
You forced yourself to chew the bite of food you had just taken before slowly standing up and excusing yourself from the dinner table.
“Mija” your mother pleads with you, knowing that she had worded her sentence wrong, but it had brought up the feelings you were trying to hide. Alba and Alexia look at you, eyes full of concern as you put your cutlery in the sink.
“I’m fine mami, just tired. Lo siento.” your words turn into a soft whisper as your nose twitches and you turn around before they could see your tears. They watch in tense silence as you walk up the stairs to your childhood room. 
Alexia is up on her feet in an instant, stretching to reach for one of her crutches. As the oldest she felt it was her duty to check on you as soon as possible, to comfort you or try to help you in any way she could.
“Ale, be careful with your knee!” her mother calls after her as she hurries up the stairs.
“I’m fine mama” the brunette waves her off, rounding the corner to your room.
“Dios mío, it’s like they’re twins” Alba speaks up amusedly, finishing her dinner and helping her mother clean up. In spite of Alexia’s efforts you wouldn’t open up to her and she left your room with her own tears of frustration pooling in her eyes, annoyed she didn’t know why you were feeling this way. 
Alba had tried soon after and she expected you to ignore her too, only you didn’t. After many tries from her you had voiced your thoughts, not all and not exactly how you felt. Just that you thought you’d always stay in Alexia’s shadow. You made her swear to you that she wouldn’t tell your injured sister, giving exactly that as an excuse to why. Alexia felt somewhat jealous that you had spoken to Alba but not her, nonetheless she was glad you allowed someone in.
It wasn’t until the match against Levante Las Planas, an incredibly successful game on your part too, that she realized what had you feeling so down. 
It was way after the game, the sky already turning dark yet you were still out on the pitch. The only sound in the Johan Cruyff Stadium was the sound of your boots kicking the ball and Alexia frowned as she spotted your form, the field lit by the floodlights. 
She had come to support the team and spent the last hour or two talking with them in the changing room. With someone always demanding her attention she didn’t have time to wonder where you were until everyone had already made their way home and your training bag was the only one still sitting on the bench. 
You were juggling with a ball, one of the only things you were always better at than any of the teammates you’ve had. It was a great talent of yours, one that had Alexia mesmerized by your skills as she watched you. Eventually she makes her way over to you and catches the ball in the air.
“Ale!” you grumble, reaching to snatch the ball out of her hands and going back to what you were doing before. She didn’t need her crutches anymore, in fact she had already been allowed to do light training and jogging. It made things easier, one of those things being trying to get you to tell her what was going on.
“Y/N/N, talk to me” she pleads with you, her pleas going unheard by you as you focus on getting every touch right. “Pequeña, por favor.”
You cast a glance at her before turning your attention back to the ball by your feet. Alexia thinks for a moment and smirks slightly as an idea comes to her.
“Favorite color?” a confused expression is etched onto your face, but you answer.
“Blue”
“Math or biology?” She knew what she was doing. It was something she’d do when the two of you were younger to get information out of you. She’d make sure you were busy with something and then ask you the most random questions until somehow she’d figure out what she wanted. You never realized how she did it.
“Biology?” you squeak out, momentarily losing control of the ball before fixing your footing.
“Messi or Rondaldo?”
“Messi for sure” you nod to yourself, kicking the ball higher.
“Flight or invisibility?”
“I already am invisible” there it was. Her expression turns into one of sorrow and this time as she catches the ball she moves it out of your reach so you wouldn’t get it back. Now that your attention is only on her you realize what you’ve just said, how you revealed your feelings. You open and close your mouth a few times before turning your gaze downward, your feet suddenly far more interesting than the deep frown on your sister’s face.
Alexia reaches out to you, cupping the side of your face, her thumb lightly stroking your cheek under your eye.
“Y/N” she whispers and when you look up her heart breaks at the sight of the tears now running down your cheeks with a steady flow and she quickly pulls you into her warm embrace. 
“Lo siento mucho” you sob into her neck, her hold on you just as tight as your grip is on her shirt. 
“Why are you sorry? Hermana, I’m the one who should apologize.” she shushes you, momentarily looking up at the sky, trying to stay composed. 
“I should have noticed how you felt and what was happening, I could have done something” she mutters into your hair as you shake your head.
“No Ale, it’s fine, I’m okay” you try to assure her but with your red eyes and puffy cheeks it’s practically impossible to believe you, she’d be stupid to believe you when your voice is shaking as you try to suppress your emotions.
“I’ll fix this bebé, okay? I’ll fix it” she speaks with determination and you don’t answer her, her mind is made up and you weren’t going to deny your sister of wanting to protect you.
Eventually the two of you sat down on the grass of the stadium after you shook your head when Alexia asked you if you’d like to go home. It’s where Alba finds you both, leant against each other under one of the floodlights and she wordlessly joins you, your sisters sandwiching you between them.
“Los amo a ambos” you tell them sincerely, smiling from ear to ear as they each kiss the side of your head or your cheek. You’re content for the first time in months, in the comfort of your loved ones arms and you feel like the world has stopped for a few minutes, just for the three of you to enjoy the peace. 
Whatever happens from here on out would only be better than what it had been before, Alexia would make sure of that.
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