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#also our room is a mess and its stressful
boycannibal · 1 month
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nothing kills u more than a loud noise
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ghostlynimbus · 6 months
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Currently the estimate is that we'll be back home by Friday which I'm really hoping is accurate bc the construction crew doesn't work on the weekends and I have (dental) surgery on Wednesday so I kind of need to be back in our apartment by Tuesday at the absolute latest.
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clockworkzombies · 1 year
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My 2023 resolution is to clean our house completely and fix the roof to have a functioning house that I'm not embarrassed to invite people over to
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luveline · 3 months
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Hi jade if you’re doing requests I’d love to see how prince Steve and his soulmate are doing after the wedding
prince!steve soulmate au —you’re sick from stress and Steve's adoring as always. fem, 1k
“Hello.” 
You nod dazedly from your bed. “Hello, husband.” 
Steve leans on the door, a bouquet against his chest. “Are you feeling any better? At all?” 
“Yeah.” You’re lying, but it doesn’t matter —your hoarse voice betrays you. You sound as sick as you had yesterday and the day before. It is putting a real dampener on the honeymoon. 
He puts his bouquet down on the dresser, the big white petals of its lilies drooping past the cellophane to kiss the drawers. You focus too much on that detail and startle when he sits on the bed. 
“You had everything you needed while I was gone?” he asks, hair falling into his eyes. 
You raise your hand, smiling softly as he leans forward, allowing you to fix it out of his eyes. He’s terrifying this close to you, absurdly pretty, absurdly yours, a golden ring on his finger and a furling white light turning pink braceleting his wrist. He’s very much the prince he was when you met, but now he is your prince, and that’s a strange thing to come to grips with, worse when you’re so achingly sick. 
“Hey?” he prompts. “You have everything?” 
“The serfs won’t leave me alone,” you complain worriedly. It hasn’t been nice to have them coming in and out all day. “I try to sleep and they wake me up coming inside. Sorry, I’m not– I’m complaining, I’m–” You rub your headache. “I should be grateful–”
“You’re allowed to complain about that!” he says, grinning. “God, I want you to! I’ll tell them to stop coming in, I just thought you’d probably die in your sleep while I was gone.” 
You lean back into your pillows with a wince. “You sure?” 
“Am I sure?” He holds your arm with both of his hands. “I’ve just sent the maids in to harass you for six hours when you’re sick as a dog and you’re asking if you’re allowed to be mad.” He rubs your arm with his thumbs. “I’m sorry. Do you want to sleep now? I won’t let anybody come in.” 
“No, um,” —you clear your throat— “I did– I missed you. I want you to tell me about the meeting.” 
“Yeah?” he asks softly. 
You have the feeling you’re being doted on. “Did Robin go?” 
“Let me just set us up and I’ll tell you. Okay?” 
You nod your agreement. Steve kisses the back of your hand absentmindedly and stands.
He shuts the curtains to hide the sunshine, clears away the jargon of the holoscreen against the wall, and closes the door. The room is big and the mess you’ve made since you fell ill the night of your wedding is expansive, taking ages to clean. By the time he’s done all this, you’re dozing again with the blanket pulled up to your nose. 
“Sweetheart,” he says, climbing into bed beside you. A kiss is placed on the edge of your eyelid. “You can sleep. We’ll talk about things when you’re feeling better.” 
“No, please tell me about today,” you croak. 
“Nothing really happened,” he says, up on one elbow, looking down at you lovingly. “They asked me when we’d begin our tour now we’re married.” His voice grows softer as he leans down, eyes on your lips. “I’ve asked for it to be pushed back. So they’ll wait until we’re ready.” 
“Mm. And news from the west?” 
“None.” He holds your face. “Sorry, you’re distractingly pretty today.” 
“Stop it.” 
“You are,” he says. He sounds playfully smug, or maybe he’s not playing at all. His tone is wry all the same, that slight fry that might make you pop a knee if you weren’t already wed. “I’m sorry you got so sick. I knew the wedding was going to be too much for you. I should’ve looked after you better.” 
“You didn’t make me sick.” 
“But the stress made it worse. I know it did.” 
“You shouldn’t believe everything the head doctor says. She made you eat dandelions for depression.” 
“I know, I was there,” he says, smiling down at you, eyes like dark dimes. “But she also recommended more fencing, and that did make me feel better.” 
You turn your face to the side and curl a tentative arm around him. “Can I have a hug?” you ask, and then, when he’s given you an enthusiastic yes and pulled you onto his chest, “I can nearly forget I’m sick.” 
“I can’t. You sound full of it, sweetheart.” Sweetheart said soft and quiet as a secret. Like he’s sorry and adoring at once. 
“It’s in my face.” 
“We’ll go to the sauna together later and clear you out.” 
Together? In your skivvies? If the sickness doesn’t kill you, the sauna with Steve alone certainly will. “I can’t tell if you’re being mean to me on purpose.” 
“Why would I do that? I like you. An embarrassing amount, I–” He clears his throat. 
You’re not sure what he would have said, but you like him too; you dive in to save him. “You’re like that, Steven, you mess with me.” 
“No, don’t start the Steven stuff again, I like it much more when you call me Steve. Remember when we first met, you’d only call me your prince? And you definitely wouldn’t have let me hold you.” 
“Don’t say it like that,” you plead through a nervous laugh. 
“Am I saying something wrong?”
He’s murmuring, nearly flirting —is it flirting if you’re married?— his arms threaded around you, his hair tickling your cheek as he leans down. “Not wrong…” Your eyes widen as he closes in. 
“Would a kiss make you feel any better?” 
“I’ll make you sick.” 
“Shouldn’t you? I’ve vowed to be with you in anything, haven’t I? In sickness…”
You hold your breath as his fans over your lips. 
“Just one?” he whispers.
“As many as you want,” you whisper back. “Just don’t get mad at me if you’re sick next week, Steve.”
“Never.” 
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bloatedandalone04 · 6 months
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You Made it Shine
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➪the one where you’ve been feeling a bit lonely, and leon intends on making it up to you.
Warnings: first time daddy kink writer - be gentle, age gap, 18+, daddy kink obvi, oral (f & m receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (leon just really wants to knock you up), breeding kink, swearing, scratching, biting, hair pulling, choking, y’all are f r e a k y
Word Count: 4.3k
Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡ | Thank you for 3.6k followers mwah
Some trash reality TV show played in the background while you flipped to another page in your textbook. You had been given a fucking stupid amount of homework to do by next Monday, and you were beginning to feel stressed out about it all. 
It didn’t help that you missed your boyfriend, either. 
Leon had been very busy lately, and you only really saw him when he got in bed with you after eleven PM. 
While you didn’t know much about what he did for work, you knew it required him to be gone a lot and he had to dedicate most of his time to it. 
You huff quietly as you scribble out a word you misspelt before trying again, glancing over at your phone when it went off from its place on the floor beside you. 
Daddy 💖: Gonna be another late night, I think. I’m sorry, baby, I know you wanted to watch that new movie. I promise we’ll get to it soon. Be home in a few hours ❤️
You huff again and quickly type out a message before tossing your phone aside, knowing damn well how childish you are acting, but also not caring at all. 
I’m bored, Leon. I miss you. Let me know when you have time for me. 
As you started to read over the notes you took during your lecture earlier today, your phone went off again within seconds of you sending that last text. 
Daddy 💖: Don’t be like that, princess, I’m feeling bad enough as it is. I’ll be home soon and then we can figure out a time that works for both of us. Only a few more weeks then I’ll get to use some of my unpaid days off, and I’ll be spending every one with you. 
You bite your lip and decide not to answer, already feeling a bit bad for how you acted in your previous message to him. 
Leon worked very hard and put in more hours than most people, and you knew he got into that kind of work early on in his life. He didn’t tell you really anything about his job, but you knew he started when he was twenty one and had been in the same field ever since, now at the age of thirty three. 
You were only twenty two, and you seriously couldn’t imagine putting yourself through half the things he did, so you had to appreciate his dedication, even if just a little bit. 
After reading for a while, you ventured off to yours and Leon’s shared room and changed into a lacy, black two piece pyjama set so you could be a bit more comfortable while you studied. 
You ate a few pieces of strawberries you had cut up for lunch earlier as you skimmed through your notes, the time passing by quicker than you thought it would. 
Before long the front door was swinging open and slamming shut, and the sound of heavy footsteps were heard approaching the living room. “Baby,” Leon rasped as he stood in the doorway. 
You look up at him from your spot on the carpet, your books and pages scattered around you. “Hi,”
Leon shrugged off his jacket and tossed it onto the armchair next to the door before he was slowly crouching down and meeting your eye level. “Hi,” he said back. His eyes raked over the mess of papers and the tired look on your face, his heart aching a bit at how neglected you looked. “I was worried about you.”
You leaned into his touch when he reached over and ran his knuckles along the curve of your jaw. “Why?”
“You didn’t answer my text,” he stated as his gaze dipped down to your lips. 
Shrugging, you look back at your book. “I felt bad for how I acted,”
“For how you acted?” Leon laughed quietly and moved so he is kneeling next to you. “Baby, I’m the one who cancelled our plans, again. I’m the one who feels bad.” 
You tilt your head when his chin comes to rest on your shoulder. “It’s alright,” you murmured as you felt his lips softly brush the skin behind your ear. “Work comes first. I know that.”
“Not when it comes to you,” he corrected as he moved to pull you onto his lap right there on the living room floor. “You should know that, instead.”
You were finding it hard to focus with his body pressed right up against your back, and his hands running up and down the skin of your thighs, but you played it up as if his actions didn’t faze you. 
Until he leaned in and pressed his lips to the side of your neck, moving upwards to whisper, “You look so pretty, baby,” and you just could not stop the shiver that ran through your body. “Did you wear this for me?” 
You were helpless as you nodded, glancing over at the time on your phone and seeing that Leon had only been at work for another hour before getting home, and not a few like he said. “Did you rush home for me?”
“Everything I do is for you,” he reminded you as he trailed his mouth along your shoulder blade. “Everyday, you’re on my mind, baby.”
You bite your lip as you turn your head so you can look into his annoyingly pretty eyes. Pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, you close your eyes as you lean back against him. “I missed you, daddy,”
Leon groaned and pressed a proper kiss to your mouth, slipping his hands under your shirt as he murmured, “I missed you, too, princess. Fuck, did I ever,”
You turn fully so you’re straddling his lap and grip his shoulders with your fingers. “Touch me,” you nearly begged, missing the feeling of his hands on your body after going without it for nearly two straight weeks. “Please.”
Leon cooed at your pout, reaching up to pull at your bottom lip with his thumb. “My sweet girl,” he said, more so to himself. “I haven’t been taking very good care of you, have I?”
You shook your head and pressed your knees into the carpet on either side of his hips. “No, you always take good care of me,” you promised, tangling your hands in his hair. “I just miss you.”
He nodded and placed a noisy kiss on your lips. “I’m right here, baby,” he swore as his hands drifted lower, taking the lace of your panties between his fingers and pulling it down with him. “I’ll take care of you, like I always do.” He said against your mouth as he gently lifted you up and placed you down so your back is against the papers that were scattered all over the carpet. 
They crinkle under you, but you don’t care as he pulls the lace from your body and immediately replaces it with his lips. You sigh and jolt a bit as you reach down to grip his head with one hand. “Daddy,”
Leon grunted against your core and the vibrations had you bucking up against him. “That’s right, baby,” he muttered, running the tips of his fingers along your wet folds. “You needed your daddy, huh?”
“Always,” you answer, spreading your thighs a bit more as he further delved into you. “I always need you, Leon.” 
He hummed against your clit. “I need you, too,” he promised, wrapping his free arm around your thigh and pulling your body closer to his greedy mouth. “Every single fucking day I need you. You’ve made me so damn pathetic, princess.”
You moaned and arched your back a bit, further scrunching up the notes you took. “You’re so good to me, daddy,” you nearly whisper. “That doesn’t make you pathetic. It’s so attractive, you don’t even know how hot you are.”
Leon smiled up at you in appreciation. “I bet you don’t realize how hot you are, either, sweet girl,” he says. “And you taste so fucking good, I could stay down here forever.”
It was a sight that was nearly too hot to handle. Leon hadn’t even been home for five minutes before he was going down on you, still wearing his work clothes, which consisted of black jeans, a black shirt that fit him so well and showed off his toned chest, and boots. 
You always thought he looked too hot to be going to work, but then you realized that he simply looked too hot all the time. How you managed to get him all to yourself, you’d never know, but he is somehow completely obsessed with you in every possible way. 
“That’s fine with me,” you murmur, running your fingers through his hair and looking down at him. “I’m always so wet for you.”
Leon groaned loudly and began to fuck his fingers into your greedy core. “I know, sweet girl,” he mumbled, coating his fingers in your wetness with every thrust of his hand. “You’re so sensitive. I can just look at you and you’d get wet for me.”
“I can’t help it,” you say quietly. “You’re so hot, daddy.”
“I’m not teasing you, baby,” he promised, kissing your inner thigh as he continued to move his fingers in and out of you. “Not at all. I love how much you need me and how much I turn you on. It’s the same way for me. You make me so hard, it’s painful sometimes.”
You gasp out a laugh that quickly turns into a moan when he curls his fingers in order to be able to reach your sweet spot. “Daddy,” you whined, bucking your hips up as best as you could against his firm hold. “Please.”
“I know, princess,” he hummed, fucking his fingers hard into you and loving the way your face scrunched up at the pleasure. “I know. You just need your daddy to make you come, huh?” 
“Please,” you say again, reaching down to grip his hand in yours. His other picked up the pace and his thumb brushed against your clit with every thrust. “Please.”
Leon kissed all along your thighs, never taking his eyes off your face. “I love it when you beg, baby,” he says. “But you don’t need to right now. I’m gonna get you off so good, I promise.”
“Leon,” you nearly yelled as his mouth returned to your clit. He sucked on it harshly and felt as your thighs shook a bit.  He moved down when he felt your release coat his fingers, and delved his tongue within your walls to taste you. 
“Good girl. Good fucking girl,” he praised, sliding his sopping fingers out of you and licking them clean. “You taste so good, baby. So sweet.”
You whine and pull him down on top of you. “Please, daddy,” you begged, kissing him deeply as he settled between your thighs. “I need you. Want you to fuck me so badly.” 
He tsked, bracing himself by his forearms on either side of your head. Next to where your hair is sprawled out was a sheet from the lecture you had earlier, and Leon grinned at the small amount of drool that left your lips and landed on the paper. It smudged your name and made the ink bleed a bit, but you didn’t care at all. “Look at you,” he groaned, licking up the line of salvia from your mouth to your jaw. “My smart girl, all hot and bothered for me. You want me to fuck you stupid, huh?”
“Yes,” came your instant reply. 
The sight of you was something that couldn’t even be found on the internet. You were so pure and so rare, and all his. 
You were too smart for your own good, yet he could easily get you all dumb for him and his dick. He can easily get you desperate for him. 
“Wait,” he requested, grinding against you when you whined at the word. Your whole body shook as his jeans brushed against your wet and sensitive core, and it was almost enough to have you push him away. “See? You’re not ready to get off again. Not yet.” 
He leaned in to kiss all over your collarbones and shoulders, one hand reaching down to push up your flimsy top. Your breasts spill free from the thin fabric and he moves further down in order to wrap his lips around your nipple. 
“I’ll get you ready,” he promised as he swirled his tongue around the taunt peak, his fingers moving to pinch and pull at your neglected one. “Get you all nice and ready for daddy’s dick.” 
“Mm, fuck,” you whined, raking your fingers through his hair and pulling on the light strands. “Leon…Fuck, I love you.”
He grunted against your nipple, pulling away and leaving a strand of salvia behind.  “I love you so much more, baby. My pretty girl,” he leaned back on his knees, draping your thighs over his as he slowly rocked his hips into yours. You looked so fucked out already, with your tits on full display, your thighs coated in your own release, and your lips swollen and wet. Leon had never seen a prettier sight. 
The front of his jeans quickly began to sport a damp spot from the way he rubbed against your dripping core, and he never wanted to wash them. He could live happily forever while just being covered in your sweet scent. 
You whimpered as you played with your nipples, the slow grind of his hips beginning to work you up again. Your quiet gasps and moans were music to his ears, and Leon was prepared to take tomorrow off just so he can spend the whole day eliciting more sounds from you.
The cool metal of his zipper against your heated clit had your eyes rolling back, your chest lifting up and causing your notes to become wrinkled under you. “Daddy,” you whispered, grinding up against him. He stilled his hips and let you rub against him, his eyes following the lift and drag of your core against his painfully hard dick through his jeans. 
“There you go,” he rasped, gripping your waist and giving you a sharp thrust. You moan loudly, bucking against him desperately. “You sound so sweet, baby. So good for me.” 
“Please,” you whisper. 
He pulls away and watches as your core drips with arousal, sliding down your folds and wetting your anatomy notes without a care in the world. He wanted to lick it up so badly, but refrained from doing so when he felt your gentle tugs on his shirt. 
Leon reached behind him and pulled off the tight fabric from his chest, tossing it aside to join your damp panties. 
You bite your lip and sit up, pulling off your own shirt and throwing it to the side as well. The sound of pages crumpling fills the room as you move to copy his knelt stance, your body much smaller than his and making you have to tilt your head to be able to look up at him. 
Leon reaches down and grazes your cheek with his knuckles. “What do you want, baby?”
You hum, kissing his wrist before moving up to kiss his lips. Your arms wrap around his shoulders as he deepens the kiss, his hands sliding up to tangle in your hair as his tongue explore your strawberry tasting mouth. “I wanna make you feel good, daddy,” you murmur when you pull away. 
Placing open mouthed kisses down his chest, you pause at the waistband of his jeans. You glance up at him as your fingers make work of unzipping them after pulling his belt off. 
“Let me go down on you, daddy,” you offered, pushing down his black boxer briefs and freeing him. “Let me suck you off.”
Leon groaned and tightened his grip on your hair. “You don’t have to ask, princess,” he reminded you. “You know I won’t ever pass up one of your blowjobs.” 
You grinned, gripping him tightly. “I know,” you say before wrapping your lips around him. Starting off with his tip, you run your tongue along his head before slowly taking more of him. You hollow your cheeks and take him until your nose is pressed to his pelvis bone and he is hitting the back of your throat. 
You move so you’re lying flat on your front, your hips pressed to the floor and your juices still dripping onto your homework pages. 
Leon groaned loudly, gathering your hair into a ponytail as you began to suck him off. “God, baby, you’re going to need to ask for a new page for your homework assignment,” he announced. “You’re soaking the one you have now.”
You moan around him, your eyes nearly rolling back when you feel your clit throb at his words. You clench helplessly around nothing at all, your walls pulsating with every sound that leaves his sinful lips. 
“It’s all for you,” you tell him, stroking his wet shaft with your hand as you lean forward to kiss along his abs. His body was insane and you were sure you could spend the rest of your life exploring it and never get bored of the way it felt against your hands. 
He worked out so often, his body had no choice but to tighten up in all the right places. “I know it is, sweet girl,” he mumbled. “All mine, aren’t you? Mine to take whenever I want.”
You moan embarrassingly loud at his possessive words, feeling more wetness drip from your folds. “I’m so wet, daddy,” you gasp, licking his tip once more. “I missed you so much.”
“I know, baby,” he cooed, tugging on your lip with the thumb of his freehand. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around much. I missed you, too. You need me to fuck you now, sweet girl?”
You hum, pulling off him again and stroking him with both hands. “I need it so badly,” 
Leon hummed in agreement. “Lay back, princess,” he instructed quietly. You oblige right away, sitting up only to lay on your back a few seconds later. 
“Are you going to breed me, daddy? Get me all knocked up?” You tease, knowing how badly he wanted to see you round with his baby. Being with you had unlocked so many kinks, Leon hadn’t even heard of some of them, but he knew he definitely had them. 
Leon cursed under his breath as he pulled his jeans off completely and threw them to the side. “I’m going to fuck you so good, baby,” he promised, staying in his knelt position and grabbing your thighs. He spread your legs and exposed your awaiting core, all ready and his for the taking. “Show all those college boys how badly you wanted me to knock you up.” 
You moan loudly, propping yourself up on your elbows so you can watch him coat his salvia covered dick in your wetness before easily sliding in you. Your head falls back and your chest pushes up, your nipples hard and straining against the cool air in the room. “Fuck,”
“That’s my girl,” he grunted once he was fully buried in you. “So fucking tight.” 
“Daddy,” you whine, watching as he began to slowly fuck into you. “You stretch me so good.”
Leon grunted in reply. “You were made for me, princess,” he says, draping your thighs over his again and rocking his hips into yours. “Mine from the very beginning.”
“Fuck, Leon,” you moan, the slick sound of your walls taking every inch of him filling the room. “I need you, daddy. Please.”
“How do you need it, baby?” He asked, running his hands up and down your thighs. 
“Hard,” you answer, and that was all he needed. He gripped your waist tightly and began fucking into you fast and steady, making your whole body jolt and shake with each thrust. “Oh, fuck. Fuck.” 
Your head falls back and you lay down again, reaching down to grab onto his wrists. “Like this?” He mocked under his breath, eyeing the way your tits bounced with every move he made. 
“Yes,” you moan. “Fuck yes, daddy, just like that.” 
“Good girl,” he praised, adoring how responsive you always are to him. “I’ll fuck you nice and hard, like you deserve.”
You whimper and he reaches one hand up to fondle one of your breasts, his thumb and index finger pinching your already hard nipple. Your whole body shakes a bit as he uses his other thumb to rub harsh circles onto your clit. 
It was probably too much too fast, but he knew you could take it. 
You were his sweet, cock-hungry girl, of course you could take it. 
Squeezing your eyes shut, you lay back and push away various papers, not caring about their well-being at all as you shove them away from you. 
You should have more self control. You should be studying right now and watching your dumb reality TV show, but here you are instead, splayed out and taking him so well like you always did. 
You couldn’t help it. Leon was so effortlessly attractive and he got you going without even trying. 
You missed this physical contact with him for weeks, and you weren’t about to pass up the opportunity to get off with him. 
“Feel good, baby?” He asked, drilling into you without showing any signs of stopping. “Feel full?”
“Yes,” you respond not even a second later.  “Feels so good, Leon.”
He grunted, removing his hand from your chest and sliding it upwards until his fingers were gently pressing against the base of your throat. 
At the slight blocking of your airway, your eyes light up and you grin at him. “Yes,” you moan again, wrapping your nimble fingers around his wrist. 
Leon stared down at the sight below him, his lips parting a bit as he groaned loudly. “My dirty girl, huh? Letting me do whatever I want to you. Letting me fuck you raw,” he mutters, more so to himself. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you want me to knock you up.”
You moan in response, clenching tightly around him. “Leon,”
“Yeah,” he huffed, tightening his fingers around your throat. “You want me to fuck a baby into you, don’t you? Get you all nice and pregnant?”
You both knew that he wanted that, and you did, too, but later down the road. Maybe after you graduate college. 
Leon understood that and is more than supportive of it, so he settled on fantasizing about it instead.
It was just so hard to not imagine a future where you and he start a family of your own. He couldn’t wait. 
“I want it, daddy,” you whimper, feeding into his kink. “Wanna make you feel good.”
“You do make me feel good, sweet girl,” he murmured, gripping your hips in both hands as he fucked into you hard. “You make me feel so good, wrapped around me so tightly, taking me like the good girl you are. You’re so good to me, baby.”
Your eyes roll back as you blindly reach for him. Pulling him down on top of you, your legs wrap around his waist when he moves so he’s hovering over you. 
Raking your nails down his back, you hear him inhale sharply next to your ear. “There you go,” he muttered. “Scratch me up, princess. I want it.”
You oblige and dig your nails a little deeper, not hard enough to break the skin, but enough to leave angry red trails indented on his back. “Leon,” you gasp as you clamp down tightly around him. “Please, make me come again. I need it.”
“Come, baby,” he requested. “All over me. I want you to make it so fucking messy.”
He leaned down and gently sunk his teeth into the skin of your shoulder. His tongue soothed the small sting and your body pulsated a bit as you felt your second orgasm rip through you. “Fuck, Leon, fuck fuck,”
Your walls sucked him in impossibly deeper and each thrust of his hips was noisier than the last. The faint squelch was barely heard over your loud cries as you came harder than before, your nails digging into his shoulders. 
“Fuck yeah,” he grunted as he felt your warmth flood around him. “Good girl.”
His words set butterflies loose in your body and you cling onto him with every ounce of energy you have left. “Daddy,” you whispered, your core begging for a break but also begging for him to fill you up. “Come, please…inside me.”
Leon lets out a throaty groan as he fucked into you a few more times before stilling. He comes deep within your soaked walls, painting your core white as he fills you up to the brim. “Fuck, baby,” he rasps, pulling out slightly then slipping back inside you again.
He wanted to make sure his seed reached as deep as it could go in you, even if there was no way you could actually get pregnant right now since you’re on the pill. 
You whine a bit when he pulls out completely, replacing his dick with his fingers as he pushes his come back inside you. “Where it belongs,” he mumbles as he leans down to press a kiss to your abused core. 
You shudder a bit as he moves back up your body and wraps you in his arms. Relaxing against his chest, you let out uneven breaths as you feel his seed run down your folds and seep into your lecture notes. “Thank you,” you whisper, leaning up to press a kiss to his jaw. “I really did miss you so much, Leon.”
He kisses your forehead and tightens his hold on you a bit. “I missed you, too, sweet girl,” he replied, knowing both you and he would probably wake up tomorrow with rug burn marks on your bodies. “I’m sorry for not being here very much. I promise it’ll only be a couple more weeks and then I’ll be given a break.”
“It’s okay,” you smile, giving him another kiss. “You made up for it tonight.”
-
Kind of don’t like this at all, so be gentle and lie to me if you hate it, too x
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libraford · 2 months
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I am giving the kitchen a good solid clean today and remembering bitterly the time that one of the roommates poked her head into our shared office and said, clearly on behalf of her partner:
"I've got a great idea! What about we all deep clean the house today?"
Roommate had trauma about other people cleaning around her because it made her feel like she was being called dirty, and often cleaned in a way that was sending that message to us. As in- loudly sighing when she saw dirty dishes (mostly hers) or becoming cagey when a pan was left on the stovetop after use, or if there was something not pristine about the kitchen. And she was always ranting that we didn't do enough to keep the house clean and that she was always doing all the work. (Well. You see. I worked a 40 hour week and still had to come home and make dinner enough for 6, so you might see why I might not have it in me to clean after being on my feet all day- and she was unemployed.)
And I also have trauma about being told that I'm not clean enough- my mom used to refer to my room as 'the pigsty.' Which isn't fair to someone who is young and dealing with a lot of mental stress, but none of us were clear on ADHD/autism diagnoses.
Now that they're gone, I'm having to re-learn how to clean without someone over my shoulder during the process.
I decided on Tuesday that since I'm off today that today would be the day that I work on the kitchen a little, and I'm finding it easier to pick a corner and work my way out instead of trying to focus on the whole mess. Yes, that means its not sparkling clean and sometimes the mess creeps up again before the whole place is clean. But it does mean that the grime doesn't build up so much.
Last night I gave the dishwasher components a good soak and washed the thing out. Right now, I'm disinfecting the spot where our kitchen compost bin sits. Later today, I do the stove top. Tomorrow I do my workspace.
Which I think was my problem. Everyone has always looked at the whole mess of me instead of the parts that I work on. People aren't whole pictures. They're parts in cycles.
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hazelnelliesgf · 6 months
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WEB-SLINGER PT 1
SpiderGirl!Hazel Callahan x Fem!Reader
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Summary: Hazel is just an ordinary teenage girl. She goes to school, she has a part time job and she's also Spidergirl. Oh wait, forgot to mention that. Being the new girl at school is hard for you, that's why she's here to help! Without revealing she's Spidergirl of course.
Warnings: this is written in Hazel's perspective for the entire fic.
Proof-read!!
Words: 0.6k
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Hey, I'm Hazel Callahan. I was bit by a radioactive spider and became the one and only, Spidergirl. Let me show you what its all about.
I am a full-time highschooler, currently trying to study for my music course. I play the drums often, mostly by myself in my dorm room. It was a day like no other, I was just walking to my class, minding my own business when someone bumps into me as I walk by. All my sheets of paper scatter across the floor, flying in every direction.
''Oh my god, I'm so sorry!'' This person says, scrambling to say sorry to me and pick up my discarded sheets. Then our fingertips meet, grabbing the same piece of paper. I look up at her face and she's staring back at me. She quickly looks away and shoves the sheet into my hand before running away. I stand there in confusion before going back to walking towards my lesson.
Now, during this lesson, the same girl barges into the room with a ''THUD!''. We all look up at her and she's visibly stressed and upset. Mr Mayfield talks to her before asking her to find a seat. The only available one was right next to me. How convenient, right? She sat herself down next to me, and it gave me time to look at her properly (not in a weird way, ew). Her eyes had a familiar glint in them, but were downturned with sadness. Her hair flowed nicely down her head, fitting its shape perfectly. Her skin glowed in the crappy school lights and sun, making me look like a mess next to her. The class came and went faster than expected and she packed up pretty quickly, then left.
My phone buzzed in my left pocket, alerting me of a message. It was from PJ.
-''Hey Dude, Trouble downtown, you available for it?''
PJ is the only person that knows about the whole SpiderGirl thing, and keeps me updated on trouble everywhere. She's been with me since the start of highschool and has never left my side.
-''Okay, Omw.'' I text back, sneaking into a public bathroom and changing into my suit. Getting used to the suit was hard work, I gotta say. The claustrophobia hits you like a train and I was honestly so scared of getting stuck inside of it, but you get over it once you try it on a couple times. I sneak out of the bathroom and run to the nearest building to hop off from. I ring PJ through my suit.
''Hey! What's the issue?'' I ask her.
''Villains terrorising kids down by your school, a couple injured, one is currently being taken to hospital. You got it?''
''Yeah. Send me the coordinates and I'll get there as soon as possible.'' I hang up and start swinging through the city. Cars are beeping and birds are flying down low through the buildings. It takes hard work to figure out how to swing without absolutely shitting yourself either. I get to the coordinates that PJ sent me and see the madness that had unfolded. I overlook the whole scene in front of me, then I see a familiar face.
No. I can't be?
Her?
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copyright to @hazelnelliesgf 2023
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anadiasmount · 4 months
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jude and you being childhood bestfriends but your parents are also super close. Your parents always suspecting yous both like each other and constantly teasing yous about it. But you’ve both been dating for a like a year in secret cos yous both don’t know how to tell your parents and one day they just find out cuz they come home u expectedly when you and Jude are cuddling and everyone’s just all so happy for yous 💗
- your writing is amazing btw x
thank you lovely, means so much! 😣🤍
“we should tell them soon… my mom has become very suspicious of me lately. she followed me to the grocery store! the grocery store jude!” you laughed, feeling as he chuckled on top of you. “do you think we did wrong in not telling them? well besides jobe because he got us here in the first place…” you wandered off asking, jude’s head coming up to stare at you.
“i personally don’t think so baby. look at us, a year strong, and so many memories spent together. i wouldn’t change it for the world, because it means i have you all to myself,” jude says softly, while your finger fixes his brow that had been messed up. “they would understand. both of our families. they know how stressful and hard our jobs are, so who can blame us?”
“nobody.”
“exactly my love. how did you want to tell them?” jude asked, snuggling closer to you and placing kisses all over your chest. you laughed and tried to sway away but with his bigger frame he pinned you down. “i was thinking of just telling them today, maybe at dinner or when we play games?”
“whatever you decide i’m right there,” jude replied, falling asleep in less then 10 minutes.
while you hated being separated from jude, he unfortunately had to go back to his house to get ready. you slipped into a dark red dress and left down, your hair parted to your preference, making sure to apply a red lip and gold jewelry. the heels made you look taller which is what you wanted.
after grabbing the cupcakes and chocolate covered strawberries, you and your family were headed out to his house were you’d host christmas. you greeted everyone, asking how they were a wishing them a merry christmas eve.
jude almost choked on his drink as he saw you walk in. he was in a trance, his eyes roaming up and down your body, his lips and throat becoming dry at your figure. for a second he got slightly jealous as he observed you talk to one of his moms friend son, which clearly he took a liking.
he scrunched his brows and cleared throat, his mom coming next to him, “you okay jude? y/n looks so pretty doesn’t she,” his mom taunted his head more to which jude snickered. “she always looks beautiful mom,” he did his attempted wink, and walked over to the living room leaving her with a brow raised.
a warm and larger palm touched your shoulder, making you jump, and look down shyly as you stood next to jude. “hi max, you good?” jude pursed, clearly bothered by the interaction which left you confused.
before max respond could respond, jude cut him off “thats good, gonna borrow this one really quick,” he pulled you aside to the kitchen where it was alone. your heels clicked on the grown still holding the cupcakes. “jude slow down,” you warned him.
as you set the tray down, jude double checked the doorway, and strides to where you were. you giggled at his pout and frown. “it was driving me insane. you talking to him? while you look so sexy in this dress? jesus it’s gonna drive me crazy all night. you look beautiful darling,” jude rambled, his hands roaming your sides and placed firmly on your ass.
“thank you baby, you look handsome yourself,” although you were still wearing heels, you had to lean up, and jude lean down to catch your lips in a quick kiss, that then turned into three pecks, “i left lipstick all over your lips jude,” you tried to wipe it away but two gasps had you standing still.
“WE KNEW IT! OH MY GOSH! ITS A CHRISTMAS MIRACLE!” said your mom, her hands covering her mouth as she smiled huge. jude’s mom just smirked and walked over to the two of you, “care to explain jude?”
jude still had lipstick on his lips, which made you laugh as your wrapped your hand on his right bicep and muscles. his cheeks slightly went red, embarrassed at being caught, “well we’ve been dating for a year… and she’s the woman i’m gonna marry,” he said confidently.
“A YEAR? YOUVE BEEN DATING FOR A YEAR? john grab my glass this is worth to celebrate,” your mom fanned her face dramatically before joining jude’s mom next to her. they have the two of you warm and tight hugs, scolding you for keeping it hidden for so long.
“we’re so happy for the two of you, i’m glad the two of you found each other and are able to start a relationship! we love you guys,” his mom said. after a quick conversation, jude pulled you into the bathroom, he took a quick selfie of his marked red lips and posted it onto his story, captioning it with “merry christmas to all 🤍🎄”
you cleaned his lips and tried to remove every red mark. walking back out to being faced with everyone looking at you, the two of you chuckled nervously, jude’s hand finding home with yours as everyone continued to stare.
“congratulations on finally making it officially,” jobe teased everyone cheering, which made you hide your face onto his chest.
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alltoomaples · 1 year
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love.jpg - LN
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pairing: fem!uni student x lando norris
synopsis: lando gets invested in working with cameras after you talk about your day in photography class and you two discover a new language of love <;33
type: writing + instagram au
a/n: finally writing up the very first writing for my new series until i found you. and ik i have been super super lacked in writing. you guys have no idea how much and many ideas ive got but procastination takes the most of it! im trying my best to work upon it and now that my finals are nearing, i may try to write as a stress breaker soo fingers crossed.
until next one, happy reading <;33
part 2 is out now!! check it out :))
. . . .
You came home from your last class of the semester from uni. As much as you love photography and graphic design, its definitely tiresome when being pursued as a Masters degree. But you won't complain much about it cause at the end of the day, you love what you do. And so does your boyfriend.
"Congrats on completing another semester, bubba!" Lando greets as he speed walks to you and engulfs you in a hug.
You drop your bags carefully and hug him back tight as you mourn in exhaustion. Your whole body gives up that Lando was quick to pick you up and let the both of you fall on the couch. Chuckles leave from your mouth as he leans in and kissed your forehead.
"I'm so so proud of you, Y/N/N" He says, looking into your eye, pinning your hair behind the ear as he rests his hand on your cheek.
"I haven't completed my course, Lan"
"Yet. And soon you will be my personal photographer and designer for Quadrant" Lando says very proudly.
"Well in that case, be ready to say goodbye to your bank accounts" you say, smirking at him as you squish his cheeks.
"I'll be happy to make our joint accounts"
"It's a deal then!"
. . . .
"So tell me about your project?" Lando asks as we clean dishes after dinner.
"Well, basically, we have to make a portfolio for photography class. We need to select a theme and shoot pictures showcasing that theme" you say, as you dried the final plate.
"That sounds so much fun and creative!"
"It is actually! till you finalize the theme cause that's the main brainers" you say as you place the dishes back to the shelves and lando keeps the leftovers in fridge.
"And that's what i'm here for! Let me help you with the picture and theme and stuff" Lando says, being very supportive and super excited like a kid on Christmas morning.
"Bubba, i appreciate you and your help but you'll be busy with race weekends, PR promos and Quadrant stuff. Do you really wanna squish mine on top of this busy business??" you ask, being concerned about him.
He walks over to you, grabbing your face in his and leans in.
"Let me be a part of your project. Think of me as your project buddy who also happens to be your boyfriend" Lando says, making puppy eyes which makes harder to say no to him.
"Alrighty love. You're in!"
"Wooohoooo!!! Let's goooo babyyyy!!" He does his small victory dance as he sung to HSM: we're all in this together
You laughed silently as you walked into your work room and picked up a camera. Lando eventually followed you and found you holding the camera.
"Wait- we are already starting with the work??"
"We haven't even chosen a theme, you dum dums" you say, ruffling his head which messes the small curls a bit.
"Ohh yeah. I'd suggest you to do some trial run shots, like you know, play around capturing day to day events. Maybe something will spark and voila, you'll have a theme ready!" Lando says, as he fixed his hair while looking in the mirror.
"That's actually a great idea bubs!!! I'm gonna do that now. You really do love this subject of mine, don't you??" You ask, as you really loved his input he just gave and you're quite impressed with it.
His level of creativity is something you've always loved and appreciated his talents. And isn't it just lovely to see people talk about their passions!
And this just made you think it's time to finally give him one of your passions.
"This camera is yours from today. I've been wanting to give you this as I've seen you've been very much interested in photography and something you can take along with you and remind you of me" you say, whispering at the end as you felt your cheeks heat up due to the cliché that you just happen to say which isn't a very you thing to do.
Lando stood there with the camera in his hands, in complete awe at the gesture of yours.
"Y/N! you have no idea how much this means to me!! This isn't just any camera, this is one you truly used for your good works" He says, pulling you closer to his. He makes you look up to him, leaning in close as he kisses you softly yet lovingly. Your hands make their way behind his neck, pulling him close to you.
"I love you, so much y/n/n" Lando says, almost as a whisper as he rests his nose with yours.
"and i love you, much more lan" you whisper back with a smile as you do the eskimos kiss.
. . . .
Instagram
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liked by carlossainz55, charlesleclerc, y/n.clicks and 3,566,962 others
landonorris: your fellow neighborhood cameraman📸
the best gift from the best <;33 y/n.clicks
view 41,06,765 comments
username1: wait Y/N gave her VERY OWN CAMERA TO LANDO!?!?
y/n.clicks: not bad for a beginner! have fun bubby🫶🏼
lando.jpg: learnt from the best ;)) will do!❤️
username2: he learnt with her?! talk about couple goals💗💖💞
charlesleclerc_: well i guess we'll say goodbye to this camera eventually. have you thought this through y/n.clicks 🤔🤔
y/n.clicks: i had a really good run with it soo if it breaks its alright, I'll get a new one 😙
lando.jpg: you two know that i can read your comments right?? hah RUDE😡
username3: i cant- 🤣🤣🤣🤣
username4: we're gonna be seeing what lando wants people to see. I LOVE IT!!!
y/n.clicks
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liked by charlesleclerc_, maxfewtrell, landonorris and 1,609,992 others
y/n_l/n: handing over ceremony📷
lando 🤝 lando.jpg
tagged: landonorris
view 105,020 comments
lanndonorris: key moment of my life and career❤️
y/n.clicks: landonorris bubbaaa🥺💗
username1: i want what they have😭😭💛
carlossainz55: wow, he is growing up🥹🥹
y/n.clicks: ikr!!!🤧🤧
landonorris: you two ughhhhh🙄🙄
username2: this is sooo adorable ahhh!!
username3: thanks to y/n now we're gonna embark the cameraman lando era!
y/n.clicks: this is just the beginning of the era!!
lando.jpg
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liked by ciscanorris, y/n.clicks and 2,954,755 others
landonorris: day at the bay with my bae
tagged: y/n.clicks
view 957,542 comments
username1: oh my. oH mY! OhOh MymY!!😍🤩
y/n.clicks: caption might be chessy af but the pictures, mamma mia🥵😍
liked by lando.jpg
maxfewtrell: now i get it why you ditched for golfing, you simp!
y/n.clicks: wait what!?! lando did that??
lando.jpg: 😳😳😳😳 busted?
ciscanorris: lando ditching golf?? he's soo into his cameraman era!!!🫡💗
username3: everyone say thank you y/n for getting lando a camera
username4: seriously! THANK YOU QUEEN Y/N
lando.jpg: FACTS!! thank you y/n.clicks 🫂🫶🏼
liked by y/n.clicks
y/n.clicks
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liked by ciscanorris, pierregasly, olivernorris and 10,954,755 others
y/n_l/n: my favourite kind of cheese🧀 landonorris
tagged: lando.jpg
view 45,998,972 comments
username1: the caption🥹😭💖💞💗✨️
username2: them>>>>>>
riabish: LOVE IS IN THE AIR🫶🏼✨️
danielricciardo: you guys are so disgustingly adorable🫡💖
landonorris: now who's the chessier one??😏😏
y/n.clicks: landonorris still YOU🫣
landonorris: 😂😂😂
. . . .
also I'm thinking for a part 2 for this, lemme know if you're interested too :))
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check out my works: until i found you masterlist | other works
part 2 is out now!! check it out :))
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amuseoffyre · 5 months
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@triflesandparsnips made a rather spiffy observation on my post about Ed and face-touching:
It may be worthwhile, considering how much face/mouth violence Ed is sensitive to -- and when we see or hear about it -- to do a review of how much of that face sensitivity is also associated with food and eating.
And hooboy, I ended up down a rabbithole thinking about Ed and food and it got so long, it earned itself its own little post.
These are all the food/eating related moments that tie in directly to Ed having strong emotional responses. I didn't limit it to just the face-touching because there's a lot of emotional mess going on as well.
When Stede wakes him for brekkie in 1x04, he recoils immediately as he wakes, until he realises who's beside him (especially pertinent since Ed wakes in 2x03 and asks if anything was done to him while he was unconscious - he even anticipates harm while sleeping).
in 1x05, when he's being taught the intricacies of dining and the French captain slaps on his big red trauma button while he's sitting at a dining table and already feeling out of his depth with all the tablewear.
Cut to the flashback in 1x05 which has him and his mum talking quietly in one part of the room, but his father is there, slumped and drunk on the family dining table, setting the domestic sphere as a place of constant present threat.
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Later in 1x05, when he's alone at the party, he's freaking out over not knowing how to deal with this kind of fancy-folk dining and then someone touches his face - double-whammy of the emotional stuff and the physical.
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1x06 gives us the main flashback to his childhood and his father's violent reaction to 'slop' and 1x07 has stressed, out-of-his-comfort-zone hangry Ed, trying desperately to keep up the Blackbeard appearance ("Blackbeard can't be seen treasure hunting!") and again, something touches his body/head unexpectedly and he lashes out defensively.
There is so much going on in the brekkie scene that I can't even get into it here. Ed trying to code-switch between the way he interacts with Stede and Jack respectively, but most significantly, when Jack talks over him and ignores him trying to change the subject about violence he's done in the past, Ed shrinks down in the chair, doing the small-and-quiet thing he does when he's unhappy (one day I will yell about Ed taking refuge surrounding himself with gold/yellow things - blankets, chairs, robes, pillowforts. His version of the battle jacket).
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1x10 has several moments. First is the marmalade - there's something child-like about the blanket fort and eating sweet sticky things with his fingers, taking comfort in food and hiding.
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The second is something that is viscerally explained in S2 - when he forcefeeds Izzy his own toe. The contrast of the brutality and the very paternal "now don't forget to chew" like an adult talking to a child gave me chills the first time I watched it.
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The last thing in 1x10 isn't necessarily food, but hooooboy there is something in the way he sets himself up at what was Stede's brekkie table, putting on the worst of personas possible, that is very much reminding me of his dad at the table in a bare, empty home, lit by a single candle, in that first flashback.
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And now, into S2, and our man starts things in a totally healthy and normal way - eating the cake with his weapon. And, more importantly, "did everybody get cake?" Again, we have the juxtaposition of implicitly care-taking language against the surrounding violence and brutality.
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The gravy basket tells us so much as well - he wakes up to the horror of being vulnerable, trapped by his own body and force-fed by someone who we learn had a habit of forcefeeding live crabs to people and who had threatened to flay Ed's skin off and feed it to him. He's rightfully afraid that anything Hornigold feeds him might be poisoned.
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Once again, we have the parental energy of "open up for the cargo ship" tangled up with the fear of threat and violence and horror - poisoning, flaying and force-feeding.
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Ed's fear has the two utterly bound up together, inescapably so. His father shaped his childhood and Hornigold stepped into that role when Ed became an outlaw.
But even in this messy and horrifying confrontation with his own psyche and layered up with the horrors he's lived through as a boy, some part of Ed still desperately wants the comfort and security of food and home, especially when the food his subconscious is gathering for him are the ingredients for Māori boil-up, something his mother would very likely have made for them.
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It speaks measures that the three things he wants to live for include good food and warmth and orgasms. No fame. No glory. No reputation. Just to be loved and safe and warm and fed.
Jump forward to 2x04 and dinner with Bonny and Read. Ed is unsurprised by the degree of violence happening throughout, but does hesitate when poison comes into the equation - "I got the present you left for me in my glass" - Ed immediately sets down his glass, staring at it warily. Again, calling back to the Gravy Basket and his fear that anything given to him might be poisoned.
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He's already on edge and off-balance - "not sure what's real and what's the basket" and there may or may not be poison and knives and the person he trusted may or may not betray him again and he's already spinning out when Anne - who had already declared her intention to provoke Ed and Mary - cheerfully lands the bombshell of why Stede left him.
No small wonder he storms out of the room, but it does lead to them having a much-needed conversation and he and Stede are on a much steadier footing after.
And then, of course, we have the breakfast of 2x07. This one is especially significant because Ed makes the brekkie then disposes of his leathers. He's actively trying to step from one mode of life to another, from the Blackbeard-and-Piracy into the domestic, softer life he's been quietly craving his entire life.
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Only, as he says himself, "I don't think I've ever made regular breakfast for anyone before". He's trying, but it's something new and unfamiliar to him and it's "my way of saying thank you".
And lastly, we have the scene with the fisherman and his son where Ed has shoe-horned himself into what he thinks is the solution to all his problems and also includes a father-son dynamic, because our man can't do anything without his daddy issues rearing their ugly head.
Once again, Ed is out of his depth, but at the opposite end of the scale from the party ship. This is a place he thinks he should fit but he doesn't. This is the domesticity he craved, but without understanding or appreciating the real work that is needed to get there.
And once again, over a meal, he has an angry father expressing violence. "Control your pop-pop!" he tells the boy who is around the same age as he was when he killed his father. But he doesn't fight back, he doesn't strike out at Pop-pop, and the son steps between them and pulls his dad back several times.
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And it's this father-figure's words that ring in Ed's ears when he realises Stede may be in danger. "If you were ever good at anything, do that". And if there's one thing Ed Teach is good at, it's fighting for the people he loves.
In conclusion our Mr. Teach wants a safe and comfortable home-life, with food and warmth (and orgasms), but he has no real experience of what that is really like or how to get it. His entire life has been a succession of threats and danger and men who would do harm to people in their charge, especially when they were unarmed, defenceless and vulnerable.
He doesn't know how to be safe yet, because he's never experienced it. All he's known until this point is a life of violence and danger and while he tried to move away from that, the violence and danger was still there - as Stede put it, there's no escaping it in their line of work.
But now, at the end of S2, for the first time in his life, he is actually able to say "No, I need to be away from piracy" because his whole journey through both seasons has been him trying and trying to step away from the life that has him by the throat.
And now, he's finally been able to do it and he's not alone. He has someone he's safe with and who is willing to do the work with him to help him figure things out. And give him good food, warmth and, of course, orgasms.
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popponn · 3 months
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coincidences and flickers.
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ii - blank papers.
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notes: fem!burnout artist!reader x pro-player!isagi yoichi ; pro player / post canon au ; self-depreciating thoughts towards one's own work ; fluff, with slight angst (burnout) with a happy ending (a slight hurt/comfort) ; unreliable narrator. a.n. at the end; f!reader but could be read as gn.
summary: you never thought you would find yourself next to isagi yoichi again. yet, like a deja vu, it happened once more.
prev. ; series masterlist. ; next
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Going outside, viewing a bright cheerful day filled with fresh air and sounds of laughter around you, several sayings crossed your mind before you finally stopped yourself upon a cafe. Sitting on one of the bar stools and facing yourself towards the people who passed by you from beyond the window, you sat quietly.
The first comment came from yourself, heavily uttered out in your mind, it said, “Ah. Shit. It’s going nowhere.”
Right in front of you, beside a half-empty cup of coffee, was your opened sketchbook filled with unfinished scribbles all over. In some parts, there were hastily drawn squares that illustrated the canvases you would use for your work. Inside those squares were sketches no longer visible, most of their parts were crossed out almost violently under a tangled mess of scratchy lines. Looking at this without your pencil touching the paper, you just wanted to slump down right on top of the table. Thankfully, however, you still remembered what it meant to be appropriate in the middle of a crowded public place.
The second was not quite a comment, actually. It was part of an old professor’s lecture from your student days, a memory that had aged by a few years already. It was said in an empty hall that would soon be used to exhibit students’ works within a few months, right in front of said students. Your professor resembled a smirking, merciless wolf ready to ruin and devour as he stood upright, dressed in black that was more suitable for a funeral than a class.
“The theme is ‘beauty’. Please remember to make it a worthwhile piece. Of course, how you interpret those themes is up in your decisions and angles,” he said. Somehow, those motivating words felt haunting. You remembered how most students paled as the tongue that had ruined so much self-esteem during its career as both a critique and a teacher went on.
“Feel free to show off with size and numbers as much as your space and creativity allow it. I do have high hopes for each of you. After all, ‘beauty’ is one of the most attractive things for an artist, no?”
—sitting at the cafe, years after graduation and even more after that exhibition, you could hardly remember what you drew. Did that professor also leave a scathing so bad your memory repressed it?
Then, the third comment came in the form of your friend, a few glasses behind from being a blackout drunk, but certainly a few glasses too much to still have a filter placed on his mouth. A thick accent laced his slurred voice as he continued his supposed lecture about art and career. “Don’t you get it?! We are artists, but we are human too! Love what you make everyone!!!” he said passionately while standing on top of the restaurant table half naked, his cartoon t-shirt nowhere in sight.
Everyone, just as drunk or a bit less, cheered and agreed with him simultaneously. The stench of fellow art graduates and victims of capitalism’s passions, or perhaps repressed stress, filled the room. From your seat, as the unfortunate yet responsible sober friend of that night’s reunion—chosen via a rigged game of rock paper scissors—could only watch in amusement. Shouting again, your friend stated, “Art is rooted in our emotions as a human! It’s the heart—the heart! Don’t forget that! Express yourself!!!”
Afterward, it spiraled down into even more of a jumbled oration that you couldn’t quite remember. But, certainly, you would wonder if your current self was the one seated there that night. What would this version of you think of those sentences?
Your answer came immediately in the form of a scoff that escaped your mouth bitterly.
“Beautiful things, love, and emotion… huh?” you repeated while staring down at your sketchbook once again. Letting go of your pencil, you buried your face in your palms,“…what am I doing right now then?”
Is there a point for an ‘artist’ who felt nothing when doing something they were supposed to feel so much emotion for?
Is it even okay for someone to make something even when it is not even worthwhile?
“Ugh,” you groaned hoarsely into your hand. Lifting up your face you heaved out one long sigh. As of the moment, you should try again to brainstorm a concept for the needed pieces. Also, you still had illustration work to do. There was no time to whine and feel down. It felt immature, truthfully.
You glared down at the messy, filled-up page of yours. This was the product of your choice, so you had to go on. If the worst comes to worst, you would just consult your client and draw it out as needed. It felt almost like a chokehold that dug itself right inside your trachea, but you reminded yourself once again. “It is work,” you whispered to yourself, “you just have to—”
“Excuse me,” a voice stopped your mutterings right on its track, asking, “is this seat taken?”
You spared a second to berate yourself, once again reminding yourself you were in public that going out was probably the wrong choice for that moment. Then, you faced to your right, answering the voice with a smile, “It is not, please feel free—”
Then, in a manner of a dramatic deja vu, you found the very familiar face of Isagi Yoichi, dressed in casual boyish clothing, right next to you. He paused as he too realized who you were, freezing just as he was about to sit on the stool beside you with a cup of cold drink in his hand.
“Ah.”
“Oh.”
Like a pair of two surprised barely-acquaintances you were, you and Isagi stared at each other in a mix of surprise and recognition. His eyes looked a few shades darker under the shadow of his black cap, however, through tresses that peeked out from under there, you noticed how the bluish tone of his hair got accentuated even further. Dressed in a casual white sweater and grey pants, those hues of his stood out even further.
He looked slightly different compared to the man you met that night, shying away from the party and leaning against the wall. But, even more so, he looked different from the ‘him’ you viewed through the screen three days ago.
A player who truly deserved the titles of ‘Ace’ and ‘Star’ in his name. Someone who without a doubt carried so much passion for what he loves that it couldn’t help but steal your breath away for numerous reasons. It was hilarious in a way, how replaying that one of many matches where Isagi Yoichi played–out of curiosity and a slight remembrance of his name–ended up with your heart thumping almost wildly in your studio.
It was supposed to be a background voice, yet you watched that match with too much enthusiasm, feeling both envious and wishful every time Isagi Yoichi’s face came onto the screen.
Ah–you took in an inconspicuous deep breath–this is no time to think of some soccer match.
Reverting your focus back to the matter at hand, you silently took comfort in the fact that most customers surrounding you either had their ears plugged or were too into their own conversations to care about two people gawking at each other. Forcing your bewilderment within a tidy gulp, you immediately put on your best pleasantry. “What…a surprise to see you here, Isagi. And as I was saying, it is not occupied. Please feel free to have it.”
Quickly enough, the male in front of you followed your cue. Pulling the chair and sitting himself beside you, Isagi offered you a nod that could pass as a half bow as he greeted you by name. “I, uh… didn't expect to see you here too. It’s nice to see you again!”
You nodded back to him, albeit much more slowly, “Indeed, to think I will be able to meet and converse like this with a national soccer superstar, your fans must be seething.”
Isagi chuckled bashfully at your remark, the tense line on his shoulder loosening, “You talk as if you are no one yourself.”
“Having a few websites and prints displaying my name is certainly incomparable to you, please,” you shrugged, turning in your seat slightly to find a more comfortable position to converse with him, “though I am honored to have you know me.”
“Well, I did end up finding out a bit more about you after that party…” Isagi said as put down his iced drink. An iced tea of some kind, if its color was any indication. While your attention shifted slightly towards his drink, Isagi continued a tad bit too miserably, “…but to think you listen to my comments about your painting like that…”
Isagi’s smile crooked ever so slightly, a teasing tone mingled with one that said ‘How could you?’ as light as it should be for a small talk poking. You raised both of your eyebrows as a reply, smiling, “In my defense, you didn’t ask.”
“Hey, I think I did,” Isagi took a sip from his drink. His right cheek twitched. “I definitely did and you just answered vaguely.”
“Then, you probably asked just as vaguely,” you covered your grin with your hand, poorly playing up a faux misery to cover up your growing mirth, “after all, there is no way for a mere painter and illustrator like me to just brag in front of you, Ace Striker.”
“You are…” taking notice of your insistence, Isagi gave up with a sigh. Then, staring at his drink as if he was remembering that party, he continued, “Still that night…”
Hearing him trailing off, you too recalled the condemning comments you spat out that night. “I was… truthfully I just had some shame with that piece of mine. Pardon my manner,” you reasoned, truthfully unsure of how much of it was true.
“Ah, no, I don’t mean it like that, I mean!” Isagi hurriedly added, “I mean, yeah, that happened, but if I know it was your painting…”
Isagi seemed to hesitate to continue his words. You did wonder on what he wanted to say, but letting an awkwardness rise when the both of you still clearly wanted to sit in this spot would be in poor taste. Brushing it off with a wave, you attempted to finish the topic at hand with a good note. “As they say, what happened, happened. So, putting all those aside,” you turned your face fully towards Isagi, starting the conversation from the top once again. “What brings you here?”
If Isagi did notice the shift in conversation, he certainly didn’t bother to mask it. His eyes stayed on you for a moment, but after a brief, nearly unnoticeable moment of silence, Isagi replied to you as he took off his cap, putting it down on the table, “I, well, taking a drink, I guess? I’m supposed to meet up with a friend but…”
As your company furrowed his eyebrows despite holding his smile, you scoffed amiably, leaning your cheek on your palm. “Did they cancel out of the blue?” you asked, out of experience,
“Yeah, his girlfriend and something about an urgent matter,” Isagi said in a way that told you whoever this friend was, it wasn’t exactly a surprising thing for that person to pull. You attempted to cover up your pity at that. Isagi, with hair slightly disheveled by his cap, returned the same question back to you. The forced smile etched on his lips visibly softened as he asked, “How about you, though?”
You took one deep breath as you thought up a response. Answering honestly would just bring the two of you back to the very topic you attempted to run away from–your drawing. But, with a sketchbook being opened in broad daylight like this in front of you, lying would be plain stupid.
You held back a groan. Your headache was probably caused by a rotting mind rather than whatever you thought it was before. This conversation had turned into a devil’s loop.
However, still taking proper manners and such into account, you lightly tapped said sketchbook, “As you can see, work, in a way. I need a change of scenery to try and get new ideas. But, as of now… you could say I’m taking a little break.”
It certainly put so many things mildly, but that answer should do. The last thing you wanted to do would be to express your frustration once again and repeat that night with the same person. Therefore, calling ‘this’ a ‘break’ would suffice.
“Ah, I see,” Isagi’s eyes moved to your sketches. Then, they moved between you and those scribbles a more few times, before with a somewhat timid kind of curiosity, Isagi hummed, “Uh, you don’t have to but… mind if I take a look? At those drawings?”
How you wished you could snap that thing shut and run away.
“Sure,” you pushed it towards him. You hoped your hands didn’t shake. Keeping up your demeanor, you added in a joking manner, “But they are still very messy though–” they are a mess “–I hope you won’t mind.”
“I definitely won’t!” Isagi responded with a grin that carried with it a mysterious confidence. He sounded even more sure than you were. As he flipped the book back to its first page, you immediately bit your tongue. You reminded yourself to appear friendly. “I found some of your work online and I really like them!”
A light flutter touched you upon hearing his praise. It did sound genuine, even if you probably would have thought otherwise. Though, probably, if you looked at your older artworks, you could say that it was made with your whole heart at the very least. Unlike most things you had put out recently.
Idly tracing the pencil you had laid down, you replied, “I’m glad you like them.”
You managed to stop yourself from saying more, somehow, despite the bitter words already hanging at the exit of your mouth. Pushing those words aside, you eventually decided to continue to follow the lines on the pencil’s body once again, feeling the familiar and artificial smoothness on it.
“Woah,” Isagi gaped quietly, turning the pages slowly. You took notice that it was pages of still life studies you did. Just from the number of details on them alone, it was apparent they had been made some long time ago–before the overwhelming weight that made the task of simply opening your sketchbook unpleasant came into your days. There was no way you could muster enough will to put in that much effort.
You stared at those sketches deeply, wondering if you enjoyed making them then. Under your own breath, you murmured, ”Those stuffs, eh…”
“You really are amazing…” Isagi praises easily as he continues to flip through the pages, mouth agape slightly as if your drawings truly were masterpieces. “You are so good.”
Truthfully, the more praise you heard, the more you wondered how you should react. Donning on faux gratitude and humor felt wrong. It truly did lighten your heart to hear it. Hearing that someone spared even a second to appreciate something you make has always been nice. But, even so–
Those drawings were from a time when drawing was easy and filled with love. The you who had walked past that time and looked back at it with nothing but envy had no right to accept those praises. In a way, perhaps you never did deserve those praises.
Many people deserve that title of a ‘pro’ more. They who draw better than you could ever hope to be, they who love drawing much more deeply than you.
You, who dared to say you were in love with your craft once before falling silent this soon–
You have no right to accept those words.
Your fingers drew to a pause, you put a second of consideration before deciding to put that pencil back into your back. “You praise me too much,” you replied, thankful for his kind words nonetheless. However, still unwilling to dwell too much on your drawing, you tried to shift the focus towards Isagi once again, “Also, I’m a bit curious, but do you mind if I ask something?”
“Hm?” Isagi’s head lifted up slightly, removing his attention from your sketchbook for a moment. “Sure, I think. What is it?”
“I thought soccer practice is an everyday thing for pros like you. Are you on break?” you asked casually.
“You could say that,” Isagi said, “two weeks off for a bit before we go back to the usual.”
“I see…” you noted down. Then, the memory of a video you watched a few days ago came to the surface of your mind for the second time. It was a video you played to fill the background silence at your studio, however the cheers of crowds and the close-ups of Isagi Yoichi’s face were played enough times to have an impression of their own. “Still, seeing how hotblooded and passionate you are on the field, I would have thought you would be practicing alone instead of drinking coffee…”
“Wha–” Isagi, unexpectedly, spluttered at your sudden statement.
You blinked. Your hand flew to cover your mouth the moment you realized what you just muttered out loud, “Oh my–I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude–”
“No, no! It’s fine!” Isagi shook both of his hands quickly. The two of you truly were lucky that no one paid attention to your interactions or it would be embarrassing–you noted, your face turning as if you just sucked on something sour. “I mean, I usually kind of do? It’s just, a break is necessary sometimes, you know–those stuffs. And really, it just surprised me for you to say that out of the blue so…aha ha ha…”
As the blue-haired male laughed bashfully, you couldn’t help but to follow it with a hesitant guffaw of your own. Letting the sudden jolt between the two of you dissipate, you soon added, “I truly do mean it as praise, though. Even someone who doesn’t know anything about soccer like me couldn’t help but admire you when you play.”
While you were very much aware of how you worded it out like mere flattery, you truly did mean every bit of your word. Even through a screen, watching a play of something that felt worlds away from yours, seeing someone putting on such a wide victorious grin and focused gaze was a ‘something’. Three days ago, seeing that replay in the silence of your own room, sitting right in front of a blank canvas, it truly was a sight.
“Your dedication and such… I will call you a talented genius, but it was definitely more than that…” you vividly remembered how his eyes shone within those footages. Even outside of the field, the glint that stole your breath that day still held itself across his blue eyes that were right in front of you. “...you are a sight to behold, Isagi Yoichi.”
Isagi’s mouth hung open. Nervously, he rubbed the back of his neck as it morphed into a bright smile–boyish, bashful, yet full of pride that you had come to associate with him after watching that match. And, you supposed, after watching the proof of his hard work, he truly deserved to feel that pride.
“Thanks,” Isagi said, saying your name quietly in gratitude. His eyes escaped towards your sketchbook for a moment, “I think I could say the same about you too, though, you know.”
You blinked. “...Huh?”
“That painting that night and all these sketches,” Isagi continued to flip through the sketchbook, finally arriving on the messiest page of all, yet still looking at it as if it was worthy of something beyond a series of unfinished scribbles and less, “I’m no expert at paintings and drawings too, but I could feel how much of your heart and seriousness you put in it.”
“... is… that so…?” you did not expect to hear such praise. Was it a praise?
Was trying to put your all enough when it amounted to nothing eventually?
When it turned out to be meaningless and–
“Your drawings–” Isagi faced towards you, leaning forward slightly as his eyes crescented, a genuine and sincere glimmer still carrying itself in them, “–I really like them!”
For once, you stilled as you listened to Isagi Yoichi’s compliment.
It was simple and, undoubtedly, very subjective. There was no praise on how he understood it nor on how he thought everything came together. You wondered if this was because you hadn’t heard or tried to seek any opinion of your drawings for a while. Or perhaps it was because you drowned every single one of them with your own comparison and sentiments. You couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was. However, you knew that it stilled you because–
It was simply an ‘I like them’. 
For once, however, you couldn’t feel any disgust towards yourself or your drawings coming up. Your brain couldn’t come up with any reason or anything–it stayed silent, as you could only nod and utter out a quiet acceptance. When push comes to shove, who were you to discredit a feeling of ‘liking’?
“...thank you, Isagi,” you nod, looking away back to the window across you with a smile you knew was too shaky and big, feeling lightheaded and flustered, “I’m glad you like them.”
The cafe was bustling and Isagi had returned to your drawings, smiling even as he replied to you with a relaxed manner, “Same to you!”
Yet again, you found yourself unable to reply to that. Letting the conversation died there somehow felt right, oddly enough. Your shoulder relaxed as you took a deep breath once more. In the back of your mind, the grating weight was still there and you knew it would come back much sooner than you hoped it to be. But, for that moment, it was enough.
Sitting next to Isagi Yoichi–whose fervor had gained your respect–who praised you with such sincerity, it was enough for you to think that at that very moment–
It is okay for you to draw, despite everything.
Isagi turned to the next page as you stayed silent, finding yourself only being able to stare blankly at the air between the two of you. “Ah,” Isagi came to a pair of blank pages, clean and unblemished by anything. 
“It seems you reached the end, Isagi,” you lightly said, offering a hand to take back the book.
“Yeah,” Isagi closed it and took it to your hand with a satisfied look, “thanks! It was great!”
“...you really praise me too much,” you repeated once more, this time acknowledging how it felt lighter to say it. “However, thank you. I’m glad you like those studies and idea roughs.”
“...studies…? …roughs?” a pair of blue eyes looked at you in confusion, the owner clearly blurting those words out of question and unfamiliarity.
You couldn’t help but to laugh at that, “The drawings you have seen. They are studies and roughs. An observation drawn on paper and… a messy note of ideas in drawing form, I suppose.”
“Oh–I see, I think I got it!” Isagi said, brightly in understanding, before then shifting slightly in his seat and taking a sip from his drink. “I never heard of those terms before–or maybe I just forgot it after high school, haha…”
You chuckled in sympathy. “It’s okay. I barely remember any rules of soccer either. I do know you can’t use your hand unless you are a goalkeeper, but other than that, I don’t think I even know what offside is.”
With faces turned towards each other, you could clearly see Isagi’s eye crinkling in humor. It was a good look on him, you noted. The lines of laughter on someone’s face always have their own charm visually, you know after all these years, however, it truly suits his face.
“Then, should I tell you?” Isagi offered, quiet rhetorically as he didn’t miss a bit to continue, “So, basically it’s–”
VRRRRT–
Which he would if it wasn’t for the sudden sound of vibration coming from his pocket. Both you and Isagi glanced down. Isagi made an apologetic face that was jumbled along with a grimace and a subtle irritation, earning a nod and an amused smile from you.
Another deja vu. It seemed like that this meeting would end soon too, you thought silently, vacantly looking at the empty pages in your hand. It didn’t feel good. The empty pang where you knew excitement should thrum was still very much there. It still felt like a hole that was simply there to make you suffer.
But, for once, it didn’t feel as terrible as it usually was–you noted. Perhaps, you could fill those pages with something ‘likable’ soon enough.
“Hey, yeah. It’s me. What is it, man?” Isagi picked up the phone with a tone much more casual than the one he used with you. A bit rougher and clearly more impolite too, you realized. “Huh? What–suddenly? Dude. Come on you just dipped out on me–you can’t just–”
You looked away as Isagi seemed to get exasperated not long into the phone call. Remembering your empty cup of coffee, you wondered if you should order another drink or perhaps move on, either back home or somewhere for dinner. You would definitely have to turn back to your work, though, either way. Your teeth felt like biting your tongue ever so slightly at that reminder, though you probably should indeed go home.
However, before that, you did feel like you had to do something beforehand.
Peering over at the phone Isagi’s hand, you wondered how should you go over it.
“Um,” Isagi called out your name, breaking your trance, wearing a description of ‘feeling bad’ on the scrunch of his face, “I’m sorry but that friend of mine…uh, he kinda turns back with his girlfriend and needs me, so…”
“Take it easy, it’s okay,” you hummed in understanding. Isagi wore an obvious guilt on his face still, however, so you added, “Really. While I do pity that I won’t get an explanation from Master Ace Striker himself, I was grateful for our chat. Thank you for humoring me.”
He chuckled at that, “Come on, no need to be that formal. I enjoyed it all too–oh. Wait.”
As Isagi cut himself short, quickly clicking through his phone, you let him be for a moment. You took the chance to put your sketchbook in your bag and scanned over the table for any of your belongings left. From the corner of your eye, you saw a quirk placing itself on Isagi’s lips.
“But, since we already looked each other up,” relaxed and friendly he offered his phone to you, unlocked and displaying the contact screen, Isagi did what you felt like you should do in your stead. “Mind exchanging our number so I can explain about ‘offsides’ and other rules to you through text?”
You were very glad your head had cooled down, or it would be terrible. Is Isagi the friendly oblivious type who doesn’t realize this sort of thing could be translated as flirting? Or it is? Or perhaps, you were simply getting too many things over your head after a few praises.
“Sure, I was about to ask you for the same thing,” you took his offer gladly, admitting your prior intent easily. Accepting his phone, you punched your number in and quickly returned it. “I will look forward to that offside explanation and the other kinds of stuff too.”
“Yeah, yeah. Explain some art stuff to me too later, ‘kay?” 
“Oh. An exchange of information? How transactional.”
“I don’t mean it like that! But… yeah?”
The two of you emitted a simultaneous small laugh, for some reason. Quieting the tickle in your mouth, you shook your head, “I’m joking. I will look forward to another talk with you. It was insightful.”
Isagi’s lips turned into a shape that spelled out amusement in its equal crooked and wry curve. However, just right before he was about to open his mouth, his smile slipped along with the resounding vibration from the device in his hand. Isagi let his mouth hang open for a moment, before finally grimacing, “...well, I should go.”
Never taking your eyes off him as Isagi stepped off his stool, you nodded. “You should. I will be off soon too. Be careful and good evening, Isagi.”
“Then… good evening to you too,” Isagi said as he took backward steps towards the exit, confident and controlled enough as if he could see what was behind him clearly, “I’ll see you around.”
You raised a little wave that was more of a jest than anything, bidding him a farewell, “See you.”
And with that, Isagi turned around swiftly, a slight bounce pushing his first step forward as he went for the door. You were about to take your eyes off him right as he stopped in his rush all of a sudden, turning towards you once again.
“Oh, also–” Isagi said, a bit louder and ignorant to a few glances thrown his way, “–good luck with the idea hunting. Don’t push yourself too hard, ‘kay?”
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a.n.: and the second chapter is done!!! it definitely took longer than i thought, haha. maybe i should publish the outtakes for giggles hoho;;; but things are finally moving and looking up. and as a disclaimer, i want to remind you that everyone's burnout is different & this fic will never be the perfect portrayal of those experiences. but, if you are in a slump or a burnout, i wish you a good time soon :3 thank you for @doobea for beta reading this too ;;; this thing wouldn't end up being as coherent as it is without u ily;;;; all in all, i hope you enjoyed this chapter :> please do look forward to the next one, i will look forward to any kinds of feedback & thoughts u may have hehe <3 once again, thank you for reading!
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taglist: @doobea @mariyumemi @intheewrld @lazysublimeengineer @coquettemaiden @kreishin @yoisami @takotakigum @themigrainegirll **bolded and italicized means i cannot tag you. please do contact me in case you want to be added or taken out of the taglist :>
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130 notes · View notes
qtubbo · 2 months
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Your like one of the biggest q!Tubbo fans i know here so i thought you’d be a pretty good person to ask this, but what’s going on with q!Tubbo’s lore rn??? i sadly haven’t been able to keep up much 😭😭😭😭
I’ve heard some stuff abt this “Creation” guy???
(you don’t have to explain it if you don’t want to obviously!! /nf :] )
Sure! As some character background, Tubbo’s been fairly depressed and suicidal for a while now, often joking about death and purposefully putting himself in harms way. Recently, he started talking about how he had “2 Lives left” in the same way as the eggs, noting that he wanted to give one to Empanada but was unable to. Most people assumed he was being lighthearted, and it was just a silly challenge that he set for himself because it was phrased in a ridiculous manner, a player having egg lives? He was not joking, and restated multiple times it was for real, but it wasn’t to be believed till Richas killed him.
Sunny and Chayanne took the death very seriously, treating it as if Tubbo had died for good, even with Phil saying it was okay and he’ll just come back. Sunny ended up staying with Phil for the rest of the day because Chayanne had stood still at the body for 10 minutes, which was good comfort for her. Later that day, Creation showed up here to protect Sunny since their primary protector was now missing, and also seeking to put Tubbo back together. Some background of who Creation is might be need, Niki’s stream and our theories about Sunny’s secret friend.
Firstly, Niki had a stream ages ago where she and Empanada met Creation, originally assuming it to be some messed up version of Tubbo. Creation showed it could point people away, assumably to a pocket dimension the eggs consider this like a warm nap, and that it didn’t have a lot of understanding about emotions. Being very stressed out and aggressive till Niki calmed it down, through Niki it was revealed that Creation has a ranking systems for the eggs most prioritized to least, and was designed to protect them by Tubbo and that Tubbo can not know its out. If I can find the VOD or someone sends it to me I’ll link it here, since it’s just a good watch to get context.
Second, Sunny’s secret friend, as of late Sunny’s been talking about this friend of hers that Tubbo can not know any details about. Sunny was protected by this friend on her walk “alone” to Bad’s place, Sunny needs to get a plush to keep them happy, and they live in a secret trapdoor in Sunny's room. This was heavily implied, but not confirmed, to be Creation, meaning that even after the reset that managed to get back to server its purpose protect Sunny.
Okay back to today’s stream, Tubbo’s dead and Creation just appeared to keep Sunny safe since her Primary Protector had gone missing. Creation points Sunny away brings them back and reveals that she’s Rank 1 calling her that for the rest of the night. Creation then starts talking about Tubbo and how it will bring it back, that Tubbo just needs to be pretty much reuploaded but Creation needs Tubbo’s data. BUT then Creation drops another bombshell that Tubbo can not die because he’s always been dead, meaning that Tubbo’s likely been a robot-like creature this entire time.
Once Creation gets to Tubbo’s body it declares it can’t bring Tubbo back because he’s missing data, his purpose, Creation becomes enraged by this revealing that while he wants to hurt Richas for the data, its code forbids it from hurting an Egg. Creation tells everyone that Tubbo needs this golden computer part to be brought back, which does once again state that Tubbo’s a robot-like creature, but it’s also revealed only the federation can get this item.
Tubbo’s currently still dead, and Sunny & Chayanne aren’t doing too hot both feeling terrible about it. I assume this is what you wanted not the Morning Crew stuff but I can explain that to if needed.
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lollytea · 3 months
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Unfortunately due to TOH being cut short by Disney a lot of character arcs and more storyline could not be fully fleshed out and finished as Dana had to wrap up everybody’s story in just a few episodes
I'm fully aware that Disney's intervention is responsible for a lot of the plotlines getting suffocated. Which is why I don't think it's fair to go harassing crew members with "why didn't THIS happen??" and all that, because nobody really knows what they endured working on those final episodes and how much they had to cut and rewrite. But from things Dana has said, it was likely a very stressful and exhausting experience. So I don't like to make assumptions about the crew being incompetent. Nobody knows how the season WOULD have turned out if they had been granted full creative freedom and breathing room to develop it to their hearts content.
However, me not directing personal ire towards the crew doesn't mean that I think that the show is immune to criticism. Its flawed. It might not be entirely the crew's fault but that doesn't mean we can't talk about how it's flawed. If anything, I think acknowledging and dissecting its weaknesses is a good learning opportunity for what we should consider when creating our own stories.
Season 3 is a bit of a mess. There's good stuff. There's some less than good stuff. I think ultimately, as a story about Luz, King and Eda, it knocks it out of the park. When they were left with no other option, they decided to prioritize the writing of their three protagonists and I think that was the correct choice.
But I've been thinking about the three specials and how they stand on their own, quality wise, and honestly, there's valid criticism to be said that is completely unrelated to the shortening.
Bear in mind that the crew has known since Follies that the show was getting cut short and they needed to start wrapping up loose ends. So it's not like they started writing Thanks to Them believing it was the first of 20+ more episodes. They knew that they were going to be writing a 40 minute special. So the execution had to be tight, concise and satisfying, right?
Well...it was....weird. Definitely fun. Good for fan service. The main hook was the witch kids navigating the human world in their dorky witchy way. And initially, that was enough. But once the novelty of that wears off and we focus on the plot of the special, what do we have left?
Thanks to Them is very guilty of lore baiting. Dropping in stuff that they know damn well that they're never going to elaborate on, leaving the audience with a feeling of intrigue that is never going to be satiated.
I personally think that is just bad writing. They knew they didn't have a full season 3 and rather than rewrite the means of which the hexsquads finds answers, they still made the choice to drop in what are most likely vague ideas from the initial draft.
I think, if they had no intention of developing it in future specials, there was no point to that scene of Masha telling the Wittebane story. It was just...filler. To stretch out the running time. Which is....kind of precious. Only 40 minutes. If you're obsessive enough about lore, you already knew the story from the Hollow Mind paintings. That scene was for casual viewers. Which is useless, because there's no point in casual viewers learning about Evelyn and Caleb because it never went anywhere.
Also. I personally think that if there was any value to learning the Wittebane lore without making it plot relevant, it would be for the sake of character development. We wanted to know how the kids would react to this knowledge.
Well how did they react?
*Shrug* They seemed a little unnerved but they kinda forgot about it the second they got off the hayride.
So what was the point of all that? What was the point?
Is it because we wanted "Goodbye, Evelyn," to be more of gut punch?
Was it worth it? Was "Goodbye, Evelyn" worth it? We know fucking nothing about Evelyn.
I think the rebus was a stupid and lazy means for the kids to discover Titan's blood. You introduce this mysterious object that was hidden under the floorboards and then you just use it as a plot device.
When the kids uncover the rebus and find the secret code inside, the viewer is not thinking about how it can be used as a means to an end (finding blood) The viewer is thinking "what the fuck is that thing and how did it get there and how did Flapjack know it was there?"
Questions that will not be answered <333
ALL IM SAYING is that I'm sure the crew could have come up with another way for the kids to have a Titan's blood treasure hunt. Maybe they could have dug a little more into the history of Gravesfield and follow leads on weird things happening on this one spot in the graveyard (which turns out to be because there's magical energy there, revealed when Luz realizes she can use glyphs)
I just think that if you're gonna leave the mystery box a mystery, you shouldn't have included it.
And I know. Its subtle storytelling. There's elements of what could have been a far more complex story and they're leaving hints of it here and there.
Well the thing about that is I think the hints are very unsatisfying and weaken the episode's plot significantly.
Also I don't think they should get to just pick and choose what parts of the lore are subtle and what parts are ham-fisted.
YES we are going to be reminded like three times that Flapjack is being secretive and hiding things from Hunter.
NO we are never going to get a payoff for that because he gets shanked and dies first.
BUT!! BUT!! If you squint, its IMPLIED that Flapjack belonged to Evelyn and blah blah blah
You don't get to rub things in the audience face and then choose to be all subtle about it at the last minute. Pick one or the other.
Anyway....I think they could have written Thanks to Them as more of an intriguing and suspenseful horror mystery where they spend forty minutes gathering clues and everything finally clicks together at the very end. That's not what we got.
We got a very weak attempt on the Hexsquad's part to be little detectives, but like a minute of screen time was devoted to them dicking around in a library, a costume shop, and a zoo.
I don't think we can blame the shortening for this.
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reallyromealone · 2 years
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imagine
poly!kanto manji where an enemy gang breaks into the headquarters so the boys rush home especially quickly because their omega is still at the house and when they get there they see that readers nest looks like a hurricane went through it and they can smell reader being stressed out hiding in a closet with their pups
you can edit whatever you want but i rlly just want it to be angst -> fluff, also prolly unimportant but can reader smell like oranges?
english probably sucks, even though its my first language 💀
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My dude we do not judge English here, my typing might be good but @katzzusstuff and @gaybitchfx can tell you verbally I make zero god damn sense.
Also the scent thing? Fuck yeah dude let's GOOOO
X
No one expected the Kanto manji gang to be a pack.
Or that they had an Omega and a few pups, the pack trying to get each member a kid.
"Hm?" Mikey absentmindedly checked his phone when he received a notification as did the rest of the Kanto gang, hearts dropping when they received a security breach at the Kanto headquarters.
Their hearts dropped as they bolted to their bikes, barreling through the streets of Tokyo to get to their mate and pups.
Kanto headquarters was a mess, chairs turned and items strewn around and it honestly looked like a hurricane passed through.
The only thing they could smell was distressed Omega throughout the place and the alphas were becoming more distressed as they split up to find their mate and pups.
Thank god they invested in a panic room.
Walking into the nesting room, it was a nightmare and clearly a fight was put up as Shion quickly typed in the code to get to their Omega and pups as hanma and Ran searched the room.
"(Name)? Pups?" The smell of moldy oranges was heavy as Shion took in (name) stressed and cuddled their pups to keep them calm.
(Sons name) the eldest at three was clinging to his mama's side as (daughters name) was on the other and little five months old (sons name) was sleeping in the sling wrapped around (name) "...alpha?" (Name) cried out as shouting could be heard from outside and Shion, ran and hanma quickly went inside and locked the door.
He was shaking like a leaf and holding the pups behind him.
The pups weren't better, this was their first attempted kidnapping but (name)? This was his fifth, it never got easier for him either.
The intruders were apparently inside hiding to jump them according to the text ran got.
"Hey babies, shhh don't worry we're here now" ran soothed as the two pups ran into Shion and Hanmas arms leaving ran to console the distressed Omega "such a good Omega, keeping our pups safe" ran soothed as he scented his Omega who whined "t-they tried to hurt pups alpha..." (Name) whined as he let Ran hold him and their youngest close, the tiny pup cracking his eyes open and wiggling a bit "you kept them safe and brought him gem here, such a good Omega" Ran soothed as he watched (name) move his shirt to expose his chest for the pup.
The smell of fresh oranges premaited around the room as (name) slowly calmed down, the three getting a text that the men had been "handled" so to say "it's safe to go out now, you wanna see the pack baby?"
At the slight nod (name) was helped up and that's when Ran noticed the blood on (name)s fingers and nails, obviously attacked one of the assailants.
"Let's go see the others'
X
When they came into the livingroom, the house had been thoroughly checked out and apparently it was a few grunts who were paid off by a rival gang to kidnap kantos kids and mate and thankfully didn't succeed.
"God I despise traitors" Sanzu hissed as the alphas checked on their loved ones The pups passed around and scented save for the youngest who was still eating.
The couch was fixed upright so (name) could sit as Mikey scented him, as pack alpha he had to make sure his mate was safe.
(Name) was still very shaken as he burped their youngest and reluctantly handed him over to Koko who began the process of scenting and passing with the tiny boy.
"We're gonna tighten security, keep a few executives here with you along with more security" Mikey said to the other to try and calm his nerves "they tried taking my pups..." (Name) said looking at his bloody fingers and Mikey followed his gaze "that explains the ones bloody face" he mused as he kissed (name)s head.
"They will be handled darling don't worry"
"Used as an example" Sanzu added as he began scenting (name) who took the pink haired mans hand and rested it on his belly "they almost hurt him"
"So our fuck fest got you knocked up again?" Sanzu rumbled as the alphas took in his words and bets went on again on who the dad and (name) couldn't help but smile as they made bets and cleaned up the house.
"Now baby, I believe we have a nest to fix and scent" Sanzu said as he, Mikey and Kakucho went to the nesting room to fix his nest.
They didn't miss his little purrs as they walked.
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