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#and where he even is getting updates from (whos coding his updates...??? was he just updating apps??? candy crush latests 50 levels??)
qvnthesia · 13 hours
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in action. (a tbb hunter one-shot)
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a hunter/jedi!reader (afab) fic.
the pitch: seeing hunter in action inspired a different flame in you, one that you wanted everything to do with.
a/n: okay look — i know i know i was supposed to update my tvd fic but IT’S HUNTER COME ON this man has captivated my heart my soul my body my legs—*ahem* anyways, i hope you enjoy this fic! dedicated to @/xajnie on tbbtwt, thank you for fuelling the hunter admiration <33 i’ve had to change the plot 4 times — FOUR TIMES (fuck writer's block) — so, once again, i hope you enjoy this fic!
word count: 1, 426
theme/warning: fluff, and references to smut. implied enemies to lovers dynamic. reader is an adrenaline junkie <33 (yes i’m projecting yes i’ve become a whore for this man yes i’m not ashamed) — putting an 18+ warning just to be on the safe side 💗
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You were staring.
Here’s the thing—Jedi weren't supposed to stare like that. They were supposed to observe, analyse their environments and maintain peace and harmony accordingly.
Granted, you had spectacularly failed at that mindful endeavour when you had stormed through the Zygerrian stronghold. You cut through hordes of clankers with a brazen and bold strut, freed civilians fleeing behind you for cover as you advanced forward. You supposed your lightsaber would have yielded some ‘yielding’ results from the enemy, but your master’s warning about your thrill-seeking tendencies rang in your brain, and you were too late. Now enslaved to the cruel species, you didn't have much of a leeway, much to your amused chagrin, with a shock collar saddled around your neck, sharp electric cords having forced you on your knees with your bound wrists lying between your legs.
Now, however, you weren't regretting being bound at all.
There was a reason the clones had more advantages than the Separatists. They were men, they were alive, they were people who had thoughts and dreams of their own. Every trooper you had been graced with the privilege of serving alongside with had their own quirks, distinguished by their own art, moral and valour.
The sargeant was more.
As the de-facto commanding officer of the Bad Batch, Hunter had had his initial doubts about you. He was a man who wasn't used to deferring his leadership, especially not to someone who had gone from Captain to Commander to General within a span of months. But you were a Jedi, and he never voiced his doubts even though you could still feel the bitter edges of his annoyance and his purposefully positioned distance reduced to nothing but professionalism and workplace discipline.
You thought that being a Jedi, you’d stick to the military civility and get the job done.
But the Sargeant made it hard to be a stickler for the rules.
You centered yourself in the Force, ignoring the deep tug from your pulsing womanhood as Hunter battled a horde of Zygerrian slavers, hand-to-hand.
This wasn't the first time you’d watched him fight. Sure, he fought for the good of the Republic, but you’d be lying if you said watching him kick ass wasn't a scrumptious treat for your sore eyes.
Aside from the clankers begging for mercy, he spared none as he sank his knife into the droids. His pauldrons strained against his biceps as he wrapped his arms around the commando ones until their circuitry sparked and fizzled into haphazard disassembly. There were moments where it was just comfortable silence, you working on your lightsaber again while he kept twirling his knife until he sheathed it under his forearms and got up to receive the latest mission briefing. Your veins always swam with his every move, your gaze drinking every smug tug of his chapped lips as he gave a two-fingered salute and decimated battalions, his fingers curling in the exact way you’d imagined him inside you.
It was as if the war suddenly ceased to matter, your Code rendered obsolete within a span of seconds as he brgan filling your thoughts. His breath mixing with yours, fingers tangled in his hair, all resistance forgotten, his skin on yours, bodies joined, his light inside you, rendering you delirious and needy with pleasure. His smoky voice filling your ears with the filthiest of murmurs as he claimed every inch of you, gazing down upon you with a dark, heavy-lidded stare that he’d directed at you whenever he disagreed with you and your near-suicidal yet successful strategies.
You’d committed his every move to your memory. It wasn't hard to forget, being sensitive to everything down to the molecules around.
It was then you sensed it, panic flooding your limbs as a yellow whip cracked the air.
“HUNTER—”
Your warning died, lips parting in sharp, rippling surprise as the whip curled around Hunter’s arm. The electricity travelled up his body, and you struggled against the bonds, being hit with electricity tailored to make you kneel.
That’s when you heard it. A low growl. The strangled primal voice ripping out of Hunter’s throat as he stood up on his two feet. Your mind practically exploded as you stared openly, mental shields frayed from something between pain and admiration, the kind inspired by a promise of the forever you’d sworn not to chase.
Gripping the blazing whip, Hunter yanked the Zygerrian man towards him, stopping an imminent collision as he bent the slaver’s wrists with a painful wrench and delivered a sharp kick to his chest, careening the scum across the dark bridge of the facility until his body collided with the console and fell to the floor with a useless crumple.
You let out an exhale, relieved. Your legs were trembling from the exertion employed from resisting being beaten into submission. But you stood up on your two feet, shaky.
“Right on time, huh?”
You met his helmet, stark, and sighed again.
“Okay, I know you're mad and yes, I should’ve take the offer for backup—”
You’re cut off as his helmet hits the ground with a thud and he makes straight for you. Before you can say anything, his fingers rip off the collar your neck and undo your restraints.
“Hunter—”
Your confusion muffles into shock as he pulls you towards him and brings your lips into his.
Your heart nearly explodes, its pace picking up as your eyelids instantly droop shut, your palms pressing his chest plate, arms snaking around his neck until your fingers threaded through his dark locks. His fingers grip under your thigh, feet shuffling until he pins you against a wall, his solid body trapping yours under his heat. His mouth slants over yours, and he groans into the kiss as your tongue meets the hot wet of his mouth. Your back digs against his hands as they roamed across the expanse of your robes.
He was so close to you, so unbearably far away with the layers between as you snaked one leg around his waist and his length pressed against you. You arched your back at the contact, flames igniting up your body as you grinded against him, the lines between need and want blurring so intensely between your desires to be one with him and have him stay just like this.
His hands cupped your face and he flinched. Your brows stitched together as he drew back, hurt tautly woven on your face.
Hunter probably sensed your emotions, he always did, always on the lookout for something different, something hopefully not life-threatening. He simply held out a hand now coated with your blood. His eyes roved over to the bleeding gash from the side of your face, and he let out a weary sigh.
“When will you start listening to me?”
“Now where’s the fun in that, Sarge?” you grinned.
“Tsk,” his other hand traced the edge of your jaw until his thumb pressed your lower lip. “Don’t tempt me.”
Your grin grew wider and you let out a breathy laugh, your tongue flicking out to give his thumb a lick. A thrilling shiver ran down your spine, your mind hazy with your victory, once his intense brown-grey eyes refocused on you.
“Call it a favour, Hunter.”
He hummed, “What if I don't see it as a favour, Mesh’la?”
Your smile melted, the fire in your blown-out eyes sparking brighter, your gaze flickering between wonder at the use of that endearing term.
A handful of seconds passed between the two of you, and a smirk tugged at his lips.
Your scent had been on him the entire campaign, driving him into absolute overdrive everytime he watched you cut down enemies with your saber and decimate battalions as if you were cutting through butter and not fighting an intergalactic war. But today, he’d had trouble fighting against those slavers with the thoughts that were running in your head and driving him wild. He’d felt the weight of your gaze on his soul, the curiosity turning into animosity masking your passionate frenzy. And he would be a fucking fool if he didn’t admit not a day went by where he hadn’t thought of doing things to you that turned your bratty self into a whimpering, moaning mess all over him.
He noted your evidently aroused state, the warm blood rushing beneath your skin, and the wetness pooling your trousers.
This was going to take a while, and Hunter wasn't going to waste a single second of finally getting to have some action with you.
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thank you so so much for reading! please do point out any grammatical mistakes if there are any. this is the first time i'm writing for hunter so i hope you enjoyed this fic!
if you'd like to be added to the hunter tag list (since i do have a shit ton of fics planned—this man has a chokehold on me as bad as hayden does), drop a comment below! reviews are extremely appreciated 💗✨
this fic has NOT been cross-posted to my ao3. any/all forms of plagiarism will not be tolerated.
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rookie98writes · 2 days
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How Could You? —Chapter 3—
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Part of the For Your Own Good Series Prev Chapter → Next Work
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Relationship: Hatake Kakashi x fem!Reader
Rating: General
Warnings: the angst continues! canon rewrite. self-ship coded; please see author's note on series page if you are unfamiliar with plot-significant characteristics of reader.
Word Count: 4.4k
Work Summary: After waking from Itachi's Mangekyo Sharingan attack, Kakashi finds there is still a lot of work to do; in rebuilding the village, restoring trust within his team, and in being honest with you. But will his efforts strengthen those bonds, or will everything only get worse?
AO3 Link
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After a few more well-wishes to Naruto for a quick recovery, you made a half-hearted excuse to take your leave. You just didn’t feel like you belonged there. Sakura had left after telling Naruto her intentions to come along in the future, and Lady Tsunade started looking over Naruto’s chart and giving him updates on the others from the mission, while he and Shikamaru told each other highlights of the fights they both endured after being separated. But they were all…smiling. Naruto was describing one of Orochimaru’s henchman—some guy who used his own bones as weapons—and he was smiling. Laughing. Joking.
He had been on the brink of death a few times from the sound of it. But he only smiled and became more resolute. Same with Sakura, and even Shikamaru. It just didn’t seem right. You’d always known that shinobi were essential for the safety of the village, but for these kids to be reacting like this? And then Kakashi’s complete dismissal of you was the cherry on top.
You ended up wandering the village. You didn’t think your father or Ayame would be of any comfort. Neither of them would be able to actually be able to offer any insight, or probably even understand where you were coming from. You tried to see Iruka, but he was out on a mission since the village was still overworked. Most likely, Shikamaru would be given another assignment soon, considering his injuries were minor. Kakashi might have already been sent back out if Shizune had been able to find him.
You were nearing the big tree in the village center when you heard someone shout.
“Y/N!” Gai ran over to you.
“Oh, hello Gai.”
“I just returned from a mission, and I was just about to get some delicious dumplings! Please, come join me! It will be my treat!”
“Oh…I’m not sure I’m such good company right now.”
“Nonsense! You're better company than anyone! Please, I insist.”
And insist, he did. While you knew that Gai would be the absolute last person to ever force you into a situation you weren’t comfortable with, he linked his arm with yours and led you toward the dumpling stand with so much speed, you were tripping over your own feet. But this might be the best option you hadn’t considered. With Iruka’s absence and Kakashi’s evasion, Gai would probably be a uniquely perfect sympathetic ear.
The restaurant wasn’t too crowded when you arrived, and Gai continued herding you until you sat down at a booth in the back corner. The man looked completely in his element, greeting both the waitress and chef by name and placing an intimidatingly large order without even glancing at the menu. You were about to skim through to find something befitting your ruined appetite, but the taijutsu master plucked your menu from your hands and gave it to the waitress without a thought.
“Don’t worry,” he smiled. “Those combination platters I ordered cover every single type they serve here! Today, we feast!”
His enthusiasm was pretty infectious. As heavily as everything was still weighing on your mind, you couldn’t help but smile along with Gai while the waitress came by and gave you each a glass of water and a tea.
“Ah, there’s that springtime smile!” Gai took a full sip of his beverage before slamming it down on the table with his standard level of gusto. “Now, Y/N, tell me. Why would you ever say you aren’t good company?”
“Well,” you started tentatively, using one finger to draw a meaningless pattern in the condensation on your glass and avoiding eye contact. “Kakashi and I kind of had a fight.”
“Ah, Kakashi,” Gai sighed. “Sometimes my rival’s blood runs too hot for his own good.”
“It’s a little more complicated than that.” You took a sip of tea to collect your thoughts. It wasn’t easy to summarize everything that had happened, since Gai didn’t even really know the entirety of the mission to recover Sasuke. But you did the best you could, starting with Sasuke leaving in the middle of the night and all the events that happened as a result: the five-man recovery squad, Kakashi running after them, the state of everyone when they finally made it back to the village.
Gai’s order started coming out of the kitchen, but the man didn’t take his attention off you as you got to the immediate issue: Kakashi suddenly turning ice-cold, telling you all those heart-breaking things. You couldn’t maintain eye contact, but the array of dumplings was a great distraction. Turned out, you were hungrier than you realized, the smells of the food making your mouth water as you spoke.
“Eat something,” Gai encouraged you, “please.”
You smiled gratefully and gathered a few different types on your plate. “Thank you, Gai.”
“Anything for my rival’s beautiful and passionate girlfriend,” he beamed and popped a dumpling in his mouth. His face went through a range of emotion; bliss at the flavor of the food, then empathetic as he remembered what you’d been saying. He swallowed the full bite heavily. “I know how Kakashi can be,” he started. “Please, allow me to apologize for his actions!”
You shook your head. “I’m not upset with him; I’m worried about him,” you explained. “He’s blaming himself for what happened with Naruto and Sasuke. He acted like he had just abandoned them, when nothing could be further from the truth.”
“He has always put the full pressure on himself,” Gai agreed, “even when we were children.”
“I just hate how hard it is on everyone.” You ate another dumpling to try and squash the despair rising in your chest, but it wasn’t quite enough. “I saw Naruto before I left the hospital. And he’s just so determined to go back out there after Sasuke as soon as he’s healed. He’s so upset with himself, that he couldn’t get Sasuke to come home. And those other boys who went with him. Shikamaru is upset that his mission failed, and Sakura is a wreck even though she’s trying to hide it. And Kakashi…”
“He lashed out,” Gai nodded solemnly, a knowing look in his eye like he had been in your shoes many times.
“He said I have no idea what it means to be a shinobi, and after seeing those kids, I’m starting to wonder if he’s right.”
Gai sat thoughtfully for a minute, taking a sip of his tea before he stared at you meaningfully. “It’s true that Kakashi is right more often than he’s wrong,” Gai grinned. “But in this case, he’s undeniably mistaken. With your compassion, you have everything it takes to understand what it means to be a shinobi.” His look was just as compassionate as he claimed you to be. “Kakashi will realize that soon. Otherwise, people will start to say that I’m the smart one.”
You laughed despite yourself, finally feeling the weight lift from your heart. “I love him so much. And I don’t know how to help him. He says he wants to be alone and I can understand that but…I don’t want him to think that he really is alone, you know?”
Tears gathered in Gai’s eyes as he beamed a giant smile in your direction. “So beautiful,” he wailed, the tears beginning to fall and soak into the dumplings on his plate. “Kakashi is so lucky to have you, someone who cares so deeply for him and understands him. I truly believe that you are the perfect match for him.” He snatched you into a tight hug and you could feel the river of grateful tears flooding your shoulder.
His outburst distracted the majority of the restaurant, and even though they weren’t particularly busy, you felt heat in your cheeks as you noticed all the attention on you. “Th-thanks Gai,” you stuttered.
Gai leaned off of you, looking slightly chagrined. “I apologize. It just fills my heart with so much happiness to see how passionately you feel for my best friend and eternal rival!”
You couldn’t help but smile at the exuberant shinobi. Even Kakashi’s detached tone as he spoke of his friend couldn’t disguise the effect that Gai had on him or the fondness they had for one another. You had to admit that it moved you.
“Well, I’m just glad he’s had you all this time.”
Fresh tears welled in Gai’s eyes, but he forced them back. “Like I said, I know how Kakashi can be. But that just means I also know why he can be like that. And I have seen so many people give up on him.” He put his hand on your shoulder, absolutely beaming at you. “It makes me very happy that you are different.”
He ate another dumpling and you smiled. “Thanks for bringing me here, Gai. You and I should spend more time together.”
“ABSOLUTELY!” he pulled you into another hug, nearly knocking the wind from your chest as you laughed.
The rest of the meal just continued to lift your spirits, you and Gai sharing easy conversation and funny stories with one another as more and more of the feast of dumplings disappeared. You shouldn’t have been surprised, but Gai attacked the platters with the same level of enthusiasm as he did everything. Before long, you were both reaching your limits (although you suspected he would happily eat twice as much if this were one of his rival contests).
Gai excused himself to take care of the bill, waving away your offer of ryō so quickly you were worried his wrist might snap. As you waited for him to return to the table, you overheard the conversation of two men sitting a few tables down.
“Did you hear?” one asked his friend. “Sasuke Uchiha abandoned the village to join up with Orochimaru. And that kid Naruto nearly died trying to bring him back!”
Your posture stiffened at their topic. The man spoke so casually, it churned the partially-digested dumplings in your stomach.
“Man, I get that they don’t have any parents, but someone oughta take responsibility for them. Don’t they have a sensei or something?” the friend responded.
The guy scoffed. “Hatake?”
“Hmph, that explains it. Cold-Blooded Kakashi strikes again.”
“Ha, he ran out of friends, so now instead of Friend-Killer, I guess he’s Kid-Killer Kakashi!”
“HEY.” The exclamation was out of your throat before you even had a chance to think about it. But you wouldn’t have taken it back even if you had the chance.
The men both looked unimpressed by your interruption. “What?”
“Don’t talk about him like that.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Kakashi Hatake. You don’t know him at all. So get his name out of your mouths.”
The men shared an amused look, like they were speaking to a child. “Excuse me?” the first man asked, turning back to you and resting his chin on his palm.
“Kakashi isn’t cold-blooded. He was out of the village on a mission when Orochimaru lured Sasuke out of the village, and Naruto was gone before Kakashi got back. But he didn’t waste a second before going after them, even though he had just been through hell. So how dare you talk about him like that? Just who the hell do you think you are?!”
“Us?” the guy laughed. “Who’re you, Hatake’s cheerleader?”
“I said…get his name out of your disgusting mouth.”
“Hey now, what gives you the right to make assumptions about my mouth?” the man sneered, leaning closer and meeting your challenge. “You haven’t been properly acquainted with it.”
“That’s enough!” Gai bellowed, appearing out of nowhere and diving between you and the man to create a human barrier. “Y/N, you don’t have to listen to this.”
“Now hold on, she and I were having a conversation. I’m just dying to know why someone like her would bother defending that worthless—"
You launched yourself at the man before you even considered the consequences. Thankfully, Gai’s superhuman reflexes caught you before you were able to make any contact and likely hurt only yourself. And even better, you surprised both of the jerks enough that they finally shut up.
Gai set you back on your feet and gave you a quick look to either warn or ask you not to try something like that again. It really shocked you how quickly Gai could switch from carefree to serious without losing a hint of credibility. Quickly coming back to your senses, you folded your hands behind your back and looked at the floor.
“Now,” Gai began, looking back at the men at the table. “Simply apologize to my friend, and we’ll be on our way.”
“Why should I apologize?” the man scoffed. “She’s the one who jumped into our conversation, then got all hysterical. The way I see it, she oughta apologize.”
Like hell I’ll apologize. Gai must have felt the way you bristled behind him, reaching back and placing his hand on your arm to ground you. “Don’t worry about these guys, Y/N. They aren’t worth it. Let’s go.”
He waited to allow you to leave first, keeping himself between you and those assholes in case either side started up again. The men must have realized who they were dealing with and decided to leave well enough alone, keeping quiet. You did offer the workers of the restaurant a genuine apology as you passed them, but they waved it away as though you hadn’t caused a scene. Still, as you made your way back to the center of the village, you felt that one more apology was necessary.
“I’m sorry Gai. I should have controlled myself better back there. I’m not even really sure what came over me.”
“I know exactly what came over you,” he beamed with pride. “All of the hot-blooded feelings you have for Kakashi sent you rushing to his defense, and it was a joy to see. But to ensure your safety, I had to put a stop to it.”
“You were right to.” You smiled and hugged him. “I think I’m going to head home. Get my adrenaline back to normal. I’m not sure how shinobi keep this up all the time,” you laughed.
Gai responded with a loud guffaw and a clap on your back. “Thank you again for your company today!”
This time, you pulled him into the hug. “Thanks for everything.”
 ⁂
Obito…
Kakashi’s hair hung limp in his face as he stared at the Memorial Stone. His feet were planted in a spot so familiar, he could feel the indents of his sandals in the earth. Proof of how often he had to admit his shortcomings.
“I’m sorry, Obito.” Kakashi spoke evenly and quietly. “I’m no better of a jōnin than I was when I let you down. And now, I’ve let down the last member of your clan.” His breath hitched. “Obito, I let down everyone. I still haven’t learned how to protect my comrades. I’m still…I’m still losing them. I’ve lost my entire team. Again.”
Kakashi’s hands trembled at his sides. “I thought things would be different. I thought I could live up to what you said. I tried…I tried to teach them the same lessons you taught me. The way that Minato-sensei taught us. My students remind me so much of our team. I should have known exactly what they needed. But I failed as a sensei. I wasn’t cut out to teach them. I couldn’t even recognize that Naruto and Sasuke were on the brink of killing each other. I was…”
Naïve. Distracted. In love.
“I was happy, Obito.” The honesty opened a chasm in his chest. “I should have known it couldn’t last. But I didn’t, and it cost those kids everything.”
That. That was the crux of it.
Kakashi had made peace with the fact that you were too good for him, and his time with you would certainly not be endless. He had been prepared to be with you for as long as you wanted him. But it had gotten to the point where he needed to make that call for you. If he had accepted the truth sooner, stopped delaying the inevitable, maybe he could have prevented what happened to his team.
If he had just let you go, been less selfish, put all his focus on his students…this visit to the Memorial Stone could have been completely different.
“RIVAL!”
Not now…
Kakashi turned to see Gai walking up to him with that big, stupid smile he always had. Kakashi aimed his most withering stare at his rival, but Gai chose to take no notice, walking up as though Kakashi had invited him.
“What is it, Gai?”
“I had a feeling I would find you here, Kakashi.”
“…Is there a problem?”
“No, not at all. But I heard what happened. And I just wanted to check on you, see if there was anything I could do to help.”
Unless you know where Orochimaru is—where Sasuke is—what help could you possibly be?
“Also, I ran into Y/N in town.”
Every one of his nerves lit up at your name. “Y/N?”
“She was upset, Kakashi.” Gai softly chastised him. “I know that what you’re going through is horrible. But please, don’t take it out on her.”
I never wanted to, he mentally defended himself. But I had to.
“What’s done is done, Gai,” Kakashi answered. “It’s over between us.”
Gai seemed confused. “You…broke up with her?”
“Well, no,” he admitted. I couldn’t force myself to do it. “But I did pick a fight. And after the way I spoke to her, she would be justified in cursing my name.”
Gai started laughing. Kakashi looked at him with fury in his eye, but Gai held up a hand to beg his friend and rival to show mercy. “I’m sorry Kakashi. I don’t mean to laugh. But actually, it’s quite the opposite.”
“What?”
“When I found Y/N, I could tell she was upset, and I invited her to lunch. While we were preparing to leave, she overheard an off-color comment about you. And Kakashi, she went up to the men and responded with a white-hot youthful outrage that I didn’t think someone of her stature would be able to produce! Defending you with the passion and conviction of a woman who’s witnessed her lover hang the stars themselves!”
What the hell is she doing? Kakashi was torn. The idea that you felt strongly enough to defend him tugged his heart in all different directions. Whoever this was that you overheard, Kakashi was sure this would just be the start of it. He had understood the importance of being entrusted as the mentor to the last surviving Uchiha and the nine-tailed fox jinchūriki, and although he could think of a hundred reasons why he wasn’t fit for the job, he had agreed to the Third Hokage’s request, only to fail even more spectacularly than he could have imagined.
Soon, the entire village would be saying all the same things. He would never ask or expect you to take on that animosity. It terrified him. But more than that, it angered him. Infuriated him; that you would be subjected to such hostility—that people would direct even a small portion of that disdain toward you—because you still cared for him, despite the terrible things he had done.
Well then. The answer was simple.
If the problem was that you cared about him…he would make you stop.
“Kakashi?” Gai addressed him, pulling him from his thoughts. “What’s wrong?”
“She shouldn’t have done that,” Kakashi responded, his voice low and simmering.
“Rival, she—”
“I don’t want her to do that.”
Gai blinked a few times before softening his expression. “She loves you, Kakashi.”
“She shouldn’t do that either,” he snapped. “I don’t wa—”
“RIVAL.” Gai cut him off. “Don’t you dare say you don’t want her to love you. I won’t allow you to lie to me.”
Kakashi looked again at the memorial stone. His eye locked onto Obito’s name automatically. His old teammate, now only an etching on this monument, because of mistakes Kakashi had made and could never take back.
“I told her I love her…right before I left for that mission.”
Gai’s voice softened. “Kakashi, that’s wonderf—”
“No. It isn’t,” he argued. “Everything fell apart after that. Things I should have been able to prevent. I don’t want her to be dragged down by my mistakes.”
“Well, she—”
He faced his friend with venom in his uncovered eye. “I won’t let her.”
Kakashi ran, leaving Gai and Obito behind. He could hear Gai’s objections, but he wasn’t about to turn back and give his irresponsibly goofy friend the opportunity to try and change his mind.
He heaved a sigh of frustration. Why were you making this even more difficult than it already was? He had been an absolute jerk to you back in the hospital. He had taken your offers of help and reassurance and thrown them back in your face. When you’d heard whatever grievances the man at the dumpling shop had, you should have joined right in.
Not that the thought of you striking up a conversation with a new man didn’t turn Kakashi’s stomach inside out. His feet skidded on the ground. It had been hard enough accepting that you wouldn’t be his anymore, but he hadn’t considered that there would be nothing stopping you from giving yourself to someone else. Could he honestly stand it if he saw you hand in hand with someone new? Smiling that perfect smile at some other man?
A selfish instinct kept him perfectly still. Maybe he should change his mind. Maybe this was his chance to take it all back. He could just apologize, and you would stay by his side, offering him all your love without question. Sure, the rest of the village would still hate him. But he could keep you.
And then everyone would turn on you, as well.
No. This was the only way he could protect you, and that was what he wanted more than anything. He just hated that that meant he had to be even more cruel. It was sadistic, that protecting you meant hurting you. But it had to be done.
He couldn’t be selfish. He’d already had far more of you than he deserved to have. He would do it quickly; hurt you one last time, so he couldn’t hurt you any more in the future.
With his mind set in stone, Kakashi was able to track you down easily. You were just walking through the park, seeming a bit listless in the way you moved.
“Y/N.”
You whipped around at the sound of his voice. “Kakashi! H-hi.”
The look on your face could have broken his heart all over again. You were surprised to see him, but more than that, you looked happy. Hopeful, like you thought he had sought you out to take everything back.
And here he was, getting ready to hurt you all over again.
“I need to talk to you.”
A tremor ran through his body when he saw the soft, secure look in your eyes. You nodded and willingly stepped closer to him, blind to the fact that he was a danger to you. Like he wasn’t a threatening, cold-blooded monster.
Wordlessly, he quickly guided you to his apartment. It was close and private. Not to mention he wouldn’t invite himself into your home, especially under these pretenses.
As soon as he whisked you inside, he shut the door to block out the unnecessary hatred and negativity that nipped at his heels. He was about to create enough of that himself; he surely didn’t need help from the rest of the village. Kakashi refused to turn and look at you, frustrated by what he had to do.
“So…” You blinked a little nervously as he failed to speak. “What did you want to talk to me about?”
He sighed, letting his head fall against the door. “Gai told me what happened. In the dumpling shop.”
“Oh,” you blushed at the memory. “I—”
Abruptly, he turned to face you, cutting you off before you had a chance to continue. “Don’t do anything like that again.”
“I…I’m sorry…” you stammered, taken back by his tone. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”
“That’s not—” His fingers curled into tight fists before he pushed his hitai-ate up and pulled his mask to his neck. “Just…stay out of it, Y/N.”
“But…” The look on your face went firm and defensive. “Kakashi, he said that you—”
“I don’t care what he said.”
“I do care!”
“Well don’t!” he thundered. Your mouth dropped open, stunned that the two of you were falling into an argument again. “You shouldn’t have done anything, Y/N. I don’t need your help, and I don’t need your pity. So just leave it alone.”
“It isn’t pity, you—”
“Stop.” He could feel the way his stare was wearing you down. “Stop defending me, stop taking my side.” It hurt like a blade, inwardly acknowledging everything else that you would stop. Stop loving me. “Just stop.”
You held eye contact for longer than he would have expected of anyone else, but he knew just how persistent you could be. “Why?” The question escaped your mouth on a shaky exhale. “Why wouldn’t I take your side when you’ve done nothing wrong?”
Kakashi turned back to the door, hiding the pain that was threatening to show through the cracks. “That was all I had to say,” he finished, opening the door to let you walk out of his life forever.
“Kakashi…” You walked up to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. He refused to turn, wishing to just block out your words. “What are you doing? Please, talk to me.”
“There’s nothing else to talk about. You should leave.”
“I know that you feel guilty for what happened to Sasuke and Naruto. And I know I can’t understand it but…can’t we just talk about it? I don’t expect to resolve everything tonight, but I don’t want to leave you like this again.”
He had to say it. It was for your own good, and you weren’t going to give him a choice. He had used all his usual tricks on you; acted as immature as the arrogant child he used to be; the reason people saw him as cold-blooded. But you were refusing to see him that way. So he looked away, and said the only thing you couldn’t misinterpret, no matter how badly he wanted you to.
“I’m telling you to leave me, Y/N. For good.”
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applecranberryjuice · 5 months
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They could have solved this sooner if any of them bothered to look at a calendar
Hear me out
Ninjago doesn't have the best track record with dates (Wu's lifetime...) and I don't expect DR to be any better at it. But rewatching the season I realized the fact that when Lloyd narrates, he mentions being "alone for weeks" and, in the carnival, recalls not being around many people in a while, nailing down how he was secluded to the monastery during those weeks he woke up alone. This is fine, typical Lloyd behavior, just that when Nya encounters Cole, he says years. Lloyd has no reason to lie, he doesn't have to make it seem like he was less time around so if he is not lying, and he truly was weeks alone, while Cole spends years lost after the merge? What happened?
And Nya and Kai! Kai woke up early enough, and in the bounty! to be able to map and travel a big part of the new land and try to find his way back, we don't know his side, but considering he pretty much arrived and then left again, had he entered the monastery before? I do believe he was longer out, awake and traveling. Nya also mentions having traveled before encountering the cranglings-- and she was on foot, she's resilient and strong, but for how long can you travel unknown terrain without a vehicle and survive it.
The idea of time getting messed up is plausible, other than reality coming undone and messing up every physics law-Cole is hanging out with what seems to be a kid formling, whose realm is confirmed to move differently time-wise, how could two different time progressions reacted to each other? How did that affect dates? Growing rates? So interesting.
I want to know if dr is planning on going somewhere with this, if not, then it'll be one more concept I'll rotate in my brain like a skewer, its such an interesting concept to me
Its also free trauma for the ninja! Win-Win
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dcxdpdabbles · 3 months
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DCxDP Fanfic idea: Wrong Number
Bruce prides himself in keeping all of his networks secured. If he didn't make it himself, he had the funds and connections to get him the best working on his systems.
He had backup plans in case the systems were ever hacked, of course, but he had yet to encounter a cyber attack that wasn't beaten away by his firewalls or his team.
Babs and Tim were far more feral when booting out unwanted guests. The level of protection was also transferred to his other systems that weren't Batman-related, just to make sure the connection between Bruce and Batman was never made.
That's why he never really checks his personal phone's caller ID, not the one he gave out as Brucie Wayne, but the one Bruce used for his real life without any masks- civilian or vigilante. The only ones who had the number- and the access- were his children and Alfred.
Not even the Justice League- those who were aware of his identity- knew of this number.
Bruce is in the middle of typing up a report for the next Wayne Board meeting when his personal phone rings. He figures it's Dick giving him a call to update him on his drive home or maybe Jason, as his son was planning on going to college.
"Go for Papa Bruce," He says, knowing his kids hate his phone greeting and doing it deliberately to spite them.
There is a long pause where he can't help but smirk thinking his child is either rolling their eyes or cringing too hard to properly speak. Eventually, a voice cracks over the speaker.
"Hello. I'm selling cookies to raise money for my own star. Would like to buy a box from me?" says a boy, not one he has taken in. The voice is young maybe not even double digits yet. Bruce is alarmed.
"Who are you?! How did you get this number?" He demands, yanking his phone to his face and seeing, with a chill, a phone number out of state.
His system had been compromised. By a child. By accident.
"My name is Danny!" The boy chirps. "I sell cookies. Like the Girl Scouts, but I'm a boy, and I don't scout."
"That's rather fantastic, lad. What kind of cookies are you selling?" Bruce asks to keep the boy on the line while sending an email blast to the others. It's a string of numbers that are code for compromise so they all know to close any communication channel until it's safe to get back on.
"Chocolate chip. Mint Slim. Oatmeal and peanut butter. I made them myself!"
Right. Bruce hooks up his phone, tracing the call. The signal bounces off the call, swinging up to a salute and falling back down to earth. In seconds he has the boy's location. It pings in a small town right outside of Star City.
He sends Barry a private message. His friend is already on the way to the location. He'll get the boy in a few seconds.
"How much for a box of chocolate chips? Those are my favorite." Bruce tells the boy, voice whimsical as his Brucie persona demands.
In an unsure tone, the boy pauses, then whispers, "I don't know. No one ever let me get this far."
"How about twenty for a box of dozen? I'll buy five boxes for each of my kids that live at him," Bruce tells him, and the boy gasps.
"That could buy me one whole night in a hotel!"
Bruce's insides freeze. What did he mean-
"Hey! No! Let go!" Danny suddenly screams. Bruce's heart launches- he hates it when kids get hurt, especially those that sound like Danny- until Barry's voice comes over the speaker.
"I got him, Mr. Wayne. Thank you for alerting the Justice League Hotline." That's code for This is not a threat to you Batman and Bruce allows himself to relax just a little.
"Narc!" The boy shouts, outraged, before the call drops. Barry is likely taking over the situation, which means Bruce can leave it in his capable hands.
After reassuring his kids that he is fine and that they are all safe, he suits up and meets the Flash in the Watch Tower. There, he learns that Danny is only seven years old and has been living on the streets for a while.
The boy had been surviving by baking some cookies to sell on the side of the street- where did he bake them? The boy would not say- until he got the bright idea to try to sell through phone calls like he had seen on TV.
He punched in random numbers at the community center phone and gave his pitch about a star, thinking people would be more willing to buy from him if he had an excellent reason.
Barry had left him with CPS, but he looked devastated about that. It turned out that Danny was a meta and had likely been kicked out of his home once it was found out based on what he said of his parents.
Bruce felt he should assure Barry that Danny was fine and look into his placement to help settle his more sensitive teammate's nerves.
He was unhappy that Danny was not in a good placement; there were far too many reports from a concerned neighbor to make him think it was a safe place. Given the fact that placement had a lot of meta kids that "fell through the cracks," Bruce worried he had just stumbled across a trafficking ring.
He would sick Barry and Jason on them. Just to ensure they wouldn't see the light of day again.
Still, that did not fix his mistake with Danny, the little cookie seller.
Bruce hacked into the system to move Danny. He thought about where he would move the young child but ultimately had him in Wayne Manor.
Just until he could confirm that he would be safe. He certainly didn't think about the adorable little boy who called him with his heart in his hand and got sent to a terrible place for three weeks because of Bruce.
Danny arrived at Wayne Manor with a happy little bounce and a chipper outlook on life than Bruce was expecting. "If it isn't Mr. Narc!"
God, he going to adopt the boy, isn't he?
(Danny has been thrown into a different universe, aged down to a child. He survived by overshadowing people into letting him spend the night baking cookies.
He was thrown into a somewhat typical home, but the nosy neighbor down the street took far too much notice of his overshadowing, and now he was being moved again.
Maybe he can terrorize Mr. Narc now instead? )
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ramons-elevator · 8 months
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Fuck it. Appreciation Post for the amazing QSMP admins.
Heres a list of just a small bit of the amazing shit that they did on/for the QSMP and its players:
Made a huge prison/event for Pac e Mike which later turned into a job for Fit for his lore
Helping Foolish out with his Titan by raising it up, lighting it up, and even making sure the brightness of the light blocks where okay for him
Listening to Fit and Phil the day the task was "Make a grappling squawk" and made it interesting with Walter Bob delivering the news
Making Gegg a reality and letting him run for president
Every event is so cool no matter how big or small. The dungeons the The Jaidens did was so fun and interesting. Every new players event is always chaos but very detailed. Even making stuff for French Independence day and the 4th of July so people could experience each other's cultures.
The amazing wedding cake and rings for Cellbit and Roier's wedding
Helping Tazercraft with the Hide and Seek Arena and making the code so they can actually play hide and seek easier
Giving Charlie, Roier, and Max (idk if theres more) key binds so they easily switch their skins and their names in game
The little jokes/ nods to stuff that happens on the server. Like the day after Missa came back and failed a water bucket clutch, they made one of the tasks "Have a water bucket competition".
Them elaborating on stuff that happens on the server. For instance, Bad putting up mini bulletin board at spawn so they keep everyone updated. So the admins started putting the newspaper there so people could see and be updated.
Philza found an insane mob that basically soft locked your game and Phil messaged the admins telling them that information, to which they immediately disabled the mob.
The side NPCs that everyone fall in love with them. From Walter Bob, a random admin who they let the players create a story and love for, to the Capybaras, which are basically the admins having fun but turned into them having their own lore.
The insane enigmas they make for Cellbit and the story it tells. They make the puzzles very detailed and sometimes can hint to other stories.
Fucking making Felps a new member
Making a button so people like Cellbit who frequently switch between Portuguese and English dont have to constant fiddle with the settings and can just switch easily
The fucking insane shit they do with Max and his story is so cool. From what Ive seen, they give him so much room and freedom to make what he wants. Im always so impressed by whatever Max does and the things he does with this server.
They make sure everyone's lore/story is seen/heard and also try to connect the lore together. From what I have seen, nothing is half assed. Cellbit finding books about a powerful weapon? It is used to trap Pac and Etoiles had to go through the nether to get the shield to counter the sword.
Lastly, just listening to the members and hearing their concerns while also letting them having fun. They joke with the members/audience, but also hearing them out when they think something is unjustified.
The admins care so much for this server and put so much work and love for it. I hope they know it never goes unappreciated or looked over.
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mochalate · 3 days
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[1] new notification!
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msby!atsumu x reader || w/c: 1.9k ft. questionable methods of contacting the paparazzi. [<- read intro][ch 2->]
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Atsumu’s last elementary school report card— faithfully stored by his mother in a sturdy carton in her closet, along with her other important documents— has near perfect grades, and only one comment from his teacher. 
Atsumu chooses to deal with matters, both academic and personal, in an independent and determined manner.
By the time middle school was over, Atsumu hadn’t changed; but the comment sure had.
Atsumu prefers not to ask for assistance even if he is having trouble with his work. I would like to see him asking for help or clarification when required.
Then in highschool, he’d learned how to bite back his pride enough to earn an approving ‘Atsumu is an active participant in his learning’ by the end of his third year.
And now look at him, asking strangers online for help without a second thought. Old Mrs. Yamada from Yako Middle School would be so proud. 
Atsumu wonders how she’s doing. He idly types her name into the search bar, and immediately finds an obituary. 
He blinks at the pixelated picture of her sweet, smiling, deceased face; and tries to decide if he should take this as a portent regarding the consequences of asking for help, or as a reminder of the relentless march of time.
Time, which you and Osamu were spending together at this very moment.
Atsumu has to resist the urge to bang his head against one of the lockers. 
 He tries his best not to think about it; but it’s early afternoon, he’s done with practice, the last one in the locker room, and unfortunately, has far too much time to not only think about it, but vividly picture it too. It’s like a goddamn movie in his mind, complete with subtitles. 
(They’re hard coded in; because of course, he’s third wheeling so hard in this scenario, he had to resort to watching said movie on the shadiest of websites, battling the pop up ads telling him about the hot singles in his area— just to rub salt in the wound.)
It went like this: you and Osamu are baking a cake together. You tell Osamu he’s got flour on his face, giggling for some reason, and he asks where. So you point to your nose, and he smears some on your face with a grin. Barf. 
Oh Osamu, you’re so much more fun than Atsumu, you say, all doe-eyed. Your subtitles are pink. The sweetest thing I’m allowed to make him is sugarless raisin bran cookies.
Yer damn right about that, Osamu replies (looking right at the camera, deadpan), Let’s get married just so we can not invite him to the wedding.
Okay, maybe Osamu wouldn’t go that far. 
And maybe it wasn’t fair to hold the raisin bran cookies against you like that. He really did think they were chocolate chip; but in hindsight, it wouldn’t make much sense for his nutritionist to be giving those to him when he was supposed to be on a high-protein diet.
(Sue him, he thought you had enough of a soft spot for him to sneak him a treat.)
Atsumu sighs, and unlocks his phone again to pull up the post from last night. There are a few more replies— some calling it a fake story, a few asking for an update, and one person inexplicably telling him to go no contact with his brother. 
Ridiculous. The whole idea was ridiculous; and surely msbygirlie (bless her) would eventually see through his half-assed attempt at disguising who he was.
His index finger hovers over the delete button. 
And then his eyes land on that reply he’s been thinking about since last night. 
well you don't have to talk to either of them... you said someone took the original photo. maybe they're still stalking?? ask them what they think?
It was insane. He’d be adding fuel to a fire that was dying down. It would drive the publicist crazy. 
He wants to do it.
(Fuck, he’s going to do it.)
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Atsumu Miya’s Guide to Finding and Trapping Your Local Paparazzi
Set a live trap in the location you expect your target to be.
“Shoyo,” Atsumu calls out, as he spots his wing spiker near the gymnasium exit, “ya free right now?” 
Hinata comes to a halt with a little hop, somehow still full of energy despite the full training session. “More or less. Why?” 
Why? Because Sakusa would scoff and walk away, stopping only to report his plan to Meian; and because Bokuto would accidentally blab and give him up, probably during a livestream. (She reprimanded them a lot, but really, it was him and Bokuto keeping the publicist employed.)
“I need yer help catching a pest. Want to take a walk with me?”
2. Bait the trap.
Atsumu stops abruptly at the crossroads. He snaps his head toward the convex mirror on the corner just in time to see a nondescript man, with a baseball cap pulled low over his face, ducking into the small general store just behind them. It’s quick— the doors are already propped open since it’s not quite warm enough to justify running the air conditioning.
Perfect.
Hinata nudges his elbow. “Why did we stop? Do you want something to drink?”
Atsumu takes a deep breath. “Do ya trust me, Shoyo?”
He looks perplexed at the question. It’s not an expression that’s often on Hinata’s face, so Atsumu takes a moment to appreciate the novelty.
Of course, it’s gone in a second; replaced with his natural enthusiasm. “Oh, did you want to practice at the park? I see, you wanted to bring me to a different environment because our rapport on the court was—”
Atsumu claps his hands over Hinata’s shoulders, lowering his voice. “If ya trust me, do exactly as I say. Go to the park. Got it? Do not follow me. Go straight to the park.”
“Aren’t you coming with—”
Atsumu fills his lungs with air, and firmly plants his feet on the ground. 
(A quick glance in the mirror at the man with the baseball cap. Still there. Good.)
Forgive me, Shoyo.
“GOOD LUCK ON THE DATE!” he says as loudly as he can, before it's shouting. 
Hinata goes red, sputtering. “Huh? Date?”
Atsumu claps his shoulders again, and gives him a subtle push. Hinata, still wide-eyed, stumbles along in the direction of the park, glancing back over his shoulder a few times. 
3. Wait.
Atsumu jogs the long way around the block to get to the park. 
It only takes five minutes of lurking behind a row of vending machines, and feeling a little sorry for Hinata who’s sort of nervously wringing his hands on a bench— he's the only other person in the park at this time on a school day— before the man in the baseball cap shows up. 
A camera is slung casually around his neck. The recording light is taped over. He’s so fixated on Hinata, he doesn’t notice Atsumu as he saunters up the path towards the machines.
(Which, all things considered, was quite surprising— Atsumu is not a small man.)
“Hey,” Atsumu says, once Baseball Cap is close enough. “Long time, huh? Two things. One, give me your camera. I know it's recording. And two, I have a few questions.”
4. Dispose of your paparazzi responsibly and ethically.
Fifteen minutes later, Atsumu is no closer to the truth; and is considerably more irritated.
“What am I supposed ta do with that?”
“Is he going to hit me?” Baseball Cap anxiously asks Hinata, “Can you hold my camera if he’s going to hit me?”
“Atsumu wouldn’t hurt anyone,” Hinata assures him. 
“I ain’t gonna hit ya, ya scrub! Don’t you go writin’ that up on yer damn blog next.” He pinches his nose, trying to calm himself. “I’m done with ya, go home. But wipe the memory card in front of me first.”
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r/relationship_advice • 1 hour ago
u/fattytuna95
UPDATE: I want to ask out my twin brother's girlfriend.
I didn’t want to come back here again, but I don’t know what to do.
Like one of you suggested, I asked the guy who took the picture. You were right. He's been following them.
(Creepy as hell, to be honest, but he didn't seem like a bad dude. And he was pretty skinny. Guess being a privacy invading douche doesn't pay well. I think even my female colleague could take him down if she tried, so that's fine.)
What he told me is this: she stayed overnight at his place twice this week. 
Now I know what you're thinking. It's a lost cause. Pack it up and move along. Right? 
No.
Here's the thing— I was worried my brother was developing feelings for her, and I still am, but if they were already sleeping together he would have told me. There's something else going on here. I mean on top of the fake dating bullshit.
And for some reason, they're not telling me.
How do I find out what without telling them how I know?
↑ 65 ↓ •••
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u/unicornpoodle • 4 minutes ago
wowww
dude, are you sure you want to keep going through with this? There's a lot of things you can unsee but walking in on your  brother fucking your crush is probably not one of them...
(and you're a twin to boot! You'd see exactly what could've been. Now that'll mess you up!)
↑ 15 ↓   •••
u/fattytuna95 • 4 minutes ago Shut up!!! I don't want to think about that!!!!!! ↑ 10 ↓   •••
u/guiltyassassin_ • 10 minutes ago
lol I was lowkey joking about asking the guy, didn't think you'd actually do it. good for you. but uh, I might be with poodle on this one. you don't want it to be true, sure. but maybe they just didn't tell you? so it wouldn't be awkward at work?
↑ 12 ↓   •••
u/fattytuna95 • 9 minutes ago I shared a womb with the guy. I'm sure. You're an only child, aren't you? ↑ 12 ↓   •••
u/msbygirlie_13 • 5 minutes ago
This is exciting!! I don't agree with everyone else, I think you should get to the bottom of it!!! Like atsumu said in his volleyball monhtly interview in june '21, the game isn't over until the ball falls to the floor!!!!! the ball is NOT on the floor yet!
maybe you should go over to your brother's apartment and see if there's any evidence.and you should just show up. don't give him any time to clean it. you can do that right???
↑ 12 ↓   •••
u/fattytuna95 • 5 minutes ago Hmm that could work actually. I've been there so much, I'll definitely notice if something's out of place. ↑ 10 ↓   •••
u/unicornpoodle • 3 minutes ago are you saying this because you believe in it, or because you want more update posts? this shit is going to be hilarious ↑ 5 ↓   •••
u/msbygirlie_13 • just now ofc I believe in everything atsumu says, omg!!! he's the best, fattytuna will agree with me. ↑ 1 ↓ •••
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Osamu frowns at the cloudy night sky as he pulls the shutters down over Onigiri Miya's window. The moon is hidden, only a hazy hint behind the grey.
"Looks like rain," he comments, glancing over his shoulder. "Sorry I kept ya waitin'. We should've just done it another night."
Behind him, standing under the streetlight, you can already feel the tiny droplets drizzling on your face. But you shake your head. "I can just stay over again. We always end up losing track of time, and your place is closer to work than mine anyway."
The lock in Osamu's hand clatters against the corrugated metal. "Want ta move in and really sell it?"
You roll your eyes. "I would, but we're not a good match. We'd feed each other too much and end up gaining so much weight."
He chuckles. "Hey, at least I can appreciate raisin bran cookies. Ya won't catch me spittin' food outta my mouth."
You laugh at that. It wasn't his fault, you want to say, smiling fondly at the memory. He didn't realise I was joking about it being chocolate chip.
"Hey, Osamu?"
"Yeah?"
"Should we just tell him?"
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now what could they be up to? [my other fics->] please leave a like/reblog/reply/send me an ask if you enjoyed! <3 divider @/cafekitsune
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ghost-proofbaby · 1 year
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twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)
HOUR SEVEN
in which you come to a few realizations while remembering the very first night you'd met eddie. a phone call with steve leaves you with more questions than answers.
→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn
→ warnings: strong language, eventual smut, heavier angst this chapter but all will be well soon, two uses of y/n, upside down does not exist, minors dni
→ word count: 4.4k+
→ a/n: shorter chapter today but the focus here is the memory! finally making some progress haha. also trying out something new with formatting/the summary situation. if i hate it, i'll probably change it. <3 also, italicized portion is a memory.
masterlist.
spotify playlist.
◁ previous part, next part▷
7:00 ────ㅇ────────────── 24:00
DINGUS: [image attachment]
DINGUS: y/n just texted me this. we’re not getting an update this hour. 
BIRDIE: what the hell happened?
DINGUS: she hasn’t said yet, as you can see in the photo, robs. 
ARGYLE  😎: what do we THINK happened? 
BIRDIE: my best bet is fighting? 
ARGYLE 😎: lover’s quarrel? Makes sense. 
BIRDIE: i’m adding nance back into the chat
BIRDIE added NANCE to the groupchat.
BIRDIE: @NANCE explain what you meant earlier please. we’re having a code red. the bad kind. 
DINGUS: there’s a good kind of code red?
NANCE: Oh God, what happened? 
DINGUS: y/n texted me saying she fucked up, and we’re assuming either she’s finally murdered eddie, or they’re fighting again.
NANCE: I can call Eddie, if you guys want?
JOHNNY: So does this mean we’re all $500 richer?
BIRDIE: @JOHNNY if you still think this is about the money, you’re a fucking idiot
HOUR SEVEN - 10:00 PM
There had been a time in your life where you believed you didn’t hold a single mean bone in your body. A time where you were soft-spoken, a time where you overflowed with kindness and dotted out compliments to random strangers. There was once a version of you in this lifetime that worked so fervently to be the type of person people liked and enjoyed the company of. You always swore to always treat others with the same grace as you would prefer to receive as well.
A year ago, that version of you had been sidetracked. 
You stare at the wooden frame of Eddie’s door with blank eyes. He wasn’t going to open it any time soon. You’d tried knocking multiple times, calling out to him in a soft voice, begging and pleading and begging and pleading. His response continued to be silence. 
“All I’ve ever done is hurt you.”
With the haze clearing, in the midst of the aftermath and sour clarity, you wish you would have corrected him. Eddie and you had surely hurt each other countless times, but it is not all he’s ever done. 
You can remember the better moments clearly now. The time you’d tripped walking up the steps of one of the bars on Main Street, and Eddie had been the only person in your friend group to stop completely, reflectively reaching out to catch you from embarrassing yourself. The night of your birthday, in which he hadn’t come to the party due to “work” as Steve had explained, but had sent a card along with your friends that contained a gift card to your favorite coffee shop. You hadn’t even realized he knew your favorite coffee shop, and you’d come to find out that he didn’t even ask a single one of your mutual friends for it. You’d brushed it off as a lucky guess. And there was the time you’d forgotten your wallet during a brunch with the group, and he hadn’t hesitated to pick up your bill with his own. He didn’t even give Robin the chance to argue; he’d simply snatched your bill from across the table when you’d paled as you dug through your bag, and didn’t say a word about you paying him back. 
Small moments. Glimpses of kindness, bandages on wounds that you’d been ignoring to keep up a war between the two of you that you’d always assumed he’d started. 
Eddie Munson wasn’t the enemy, and the first night you two met was never a red herring; it was a glimpse into who he actually was. A clear look past the armor he hadn’t formed yet when it came to you. 
A YEAR AGO
“They’re going to love you!” Robin insists as she continues to shove you from behind through the entrance of the bar. Steve is ahead of you, guiding you through the rough crowd to the table the rest of the group had already snagged. 
You turn your head over your shoulder, reaching up and grabbing the hand that Robin rested on you, “You don't know that. What if they hate me? What if they think I’m the worst person they’ve ever met?” 
Even as you wore a smile, there was a truth to the fear in your words. You were petrified that these strangers, strangers who meant so much to your only friends on campus, would turn their noses to you. There was nothing Robin or Steve could do to extinguish the fear. It was already a terrible knot in the pit of your stomach, tying and untying itself like a nuisance as Steve started to wave at a brunette who had been scanning the bar as if waiting for someone. 
She’s pretty. Wavy hair barely brushing her shoulders, sharp features accentuated in the shadows of the busy location. The moment her blue eyes locked on Steve, all the concentration on her face faded to be replaced with an excited smile. 
She returns the wave, and the boys surrounding her at the table all glance in your direction. 
You’re still half-hidden behind Steve as the three of you approach the group. Robin bounds out from behind you, scooping the woman you assumed was the famous Nancy into a barrelling hug. Your eyes flickered to the boy sat to Nancy’s right, shaggy hair flopping against his forehead and smile creases exposed as he nods to Steve and holds up his drink in greeting. Beside him, another man sits, long and shiny hair flowing over an outrageous Hawaiian print shirt and topped off with a baseball cap that looked to be the merchandise of a pizza shop. His smile is welcoming – something comforting in the relaxation of it. 
You’re almost completely captivated by the warmth that bled from the group when Steve and Robin are suddenly taking their seats. Robin sits beside Nancy, while Steve takes the seat across from the man with long hair. 
The only seat left open was between Steve and a man who’s back was turned to you. 
His hair is in a loose bun, unraveling against the nape of his neck.  You could see each and every defined curl. His broad shoulders stiffen beneath a leather jacket and denim vest, and his ring-clad hand cradles a short glass of something dark, something fizzy. 
“Alright, everyone!” Steve announces, turning and beckoning you to take this seat. Your stomach twists again, realizing you’d be sitting beside a stranger. One who had yet to even spare you a glance, “This is Y/N.” 
There’s rounds of greetings and introductions as you brush shoulders with the stranger to take your seat, and try as you might to keep up, all you can focus on is not looking at him. 
You’re guess was correct – the pretty girl that Robin had hugged was Nancy. The boy with floppy hair at her side was Jonathan, and the man with long hair told you his name is Argyle. His tone of casualty matches the comfort of his smile as he holds a hand out to you across the table, both your elbow and his brushing against empty baskets once filled with bar food as you shake. 
Finally, you turn to look at the stranger beside you, Steve reaching around to clasp his shoulder. 
“And mister oh-so-welcoming here is Eddie.” 
Eddie. He finally turns to look at you, with doleful eyes and a tight-lipped grin, and you almost forget how to breathe. 
He was intimidating. All broodish glances and stand-offish energy. But then Argyle cracks a joke, and suddenly, it all fades. The air in the room crackles frantically as you watch him chuckle slowly at first, until he finally descends into cackles with Steve and Jonathan alike. 
That’s when the first vine sprouts. 
The second one does when the conversation becomes overwhelming, and you find yourself lost amongst the sea of new friends. They’re nothing but friendly, trying to learn more about you but easily falling into well-established inside jokes at times. When you descend into silence as you watch them recount a story of a time that Argyle snuck them into his job after hours, you suddenly feel Eddie lean in closer to you.
“I think they tell this story every time they get drunk,” he whispers, tilting his head so that the words only reach your ears, “I’ve probably heard it a hundred times by now.” 
You bite back a smile, “Just tonight, or the entire time you’ve known them?” 
“Both.”
You have to fight hard to swallow down giggles, Eddie hiding his with a sip of his drink. A waiter who had taken your order nearly ten minutes ago arrives with your own drink. An amaretto sour. 
“I’m Eddie, by the way,” he says as you taste the drink. Its citrus bursts across your tongue and you nod.
“So Steve mentioned.” 
“Yeah, but I felt bad for not introducing myself,” he shrugs. You were facing him fully now, no longer trying to stick vehemently to Steve’s side. “I didn’t want to seem like a dick, just… had a long week.” 
You knew all about long weeks.
“I get it,” you assure him, “Are you in school, too?” 
“Night classes,” he supplies with a wave of his hand, “Midterms are a bitch, especially after working all day.” 
“Tell me about it. I think I’m about ten seconds away from getting fired at my current gig,” you joke, and Eddie laughs. It occurs to you that you’d probably do just about anything to hear his laugh more, and already begin to conjure up terrible jokes to pull that sound from him once more. It’s even more comforting than Argyle’s friendly cadence, than Steve’s elbow knocking yours to remind you he’s still there.
“Why would you think that?” Eddie’s nose scrunches, more curls falling against his cheek. Your drink is immediately forgotten. 
“He caught me talking shit,” another laugh falls from Eddie’s lips at your deadpan, more reserved than the previous but just as melodic, “I give it a week. He was already looking for a reason to send me to the chopping block. Says I talk too much to customers.” 
“Is that even possible?”
“Apparently.” 
For a moment, in the smoky bar, it’s just you and Eddie. All knotting nerves have been replaced by the weight of the vines that surge higher and higher in your chest, growing at impossible rates. They don’t strangle you like your fears of the night had; their weight is a comforting hold, something solid to reach out for in the unfamiliar territory of new socialization. Without the mask of intimidation, Eddie feels like an old friend. 
You assume that everyone else is distracted by their own conversation, but Robin catches the way you lean into him as the two of you joke. She nudges Nancy subtly, and they both share a look when Eddie blushes at you being impressed as he tells you that his battle vest is hand-sewn. 
Your vines are not as hidden as you assume they are, certainly not when the first bud of hopefulness begins to grow. 
“So how long have you known Steve?” you ask him quietly, still under the guise of the two of you having created your own small bubble of a moment. 
Eddie downs the last of his Jack & Coke, something you caught onto by smelling it on his breath when he had gotten particularly close to you during conversation, “Too long. We all met in high school, actually.” 
“Oh, don’t tell me that,” you groan, and your forehead dramatically falls into his shoulder without second-thought. He stiffens beneath the connection, “I’m infiltrating a friend group that’s stood the test of times? I’m doomed.” 
You nearly lift your head from his still stiff shoulder, afraid to make him uncomfortable, when he brings a hesitant hand to pat your back jokingly, “There, there. I think you’re fitting in fine.” 
“Just fine? Ouch,” you finally lift your head as you had planned to, just as Eddie had begun to relax into your touch. His hand doesn’t fall too far from your back, resting on the back of your chair. His shy grin is impossibly charming, “You could have just said I’m crashing and burning, you know?” 
The night carries on like that, you and Eddie lost in private conversations only to be occasionally dragged back in on whatever debate the group is having. It’s a spring reaction; once one or both of you have given your two cents, you return to one another, finding solitude in joking and Eddie updating you on the group’s ‘lore’, as he puts it. Steve shoots several glances in your direction, always prepared to offer comfort in what should be an overwhelming situation, but he never has to. Every time he glances at you, Eddie is already taking the lead of entertaining you, qualming all your anxieties into non-existence. 
Your vines decorate with buds of hope. Every laugh you pull from Eddie, every fleeting touch that passes between the two of you, every new inside joke he decides to make with you rather than indulging in ones set in stone already with old friends - they all whisper of new friendship. They whisper in potential, in new beginnings and coming home after long weeks. 
By the time Nancy announces she has to go to the restroom and invites you and Robin, you’re in full bloom. You’re convinced that Eddie is a friend. And you can see it in his eyes – he’s convinced of it too, looking nervous when you stand and agree to go with Nancy. He looks like a child about to lose their social crutch, and it has potential to be devastating.
It’s almost enough to make you ignore your bladder, but you need to pee, and you need to socialize with more than just Eddie tonight. 
You’re not sure what happens at the table during your trip to the bathroom. But something surely does happen as you giggle with the girls under the humming lights of the restroom, as you all stand in the mirror side by side and fiddle with your hair and makeup and Robin makes a comment about how terribly cliche the moment is. Nancy slaps her on the arm, mutters something about the importance of girls bonding, and when you return to the table, you see it immediately – Eddie’s mask of indifference has returned. 
His cheeks are flushed, and all the boys are sharing nervous glances between one another as you all sit down again. 
There’s no more fleeting touches. You sip on your now watered down drink, and you try and pull Eddie out from wherever he’s ventured in your absence, but it’s no use. A conversation was had while you girls had been in the restroom, and it left Eddie in his head, out of reach. The buds of hopefulness quiver on their vines, and you try to reassure yourself that it’s nothing personal. It’s nothing personal when he clearly holds back any laughs at your jokes you lean into his space to whisper to only him, it’s nothing personal when his arm never rests on the back of your chair again, it’s nothing personal when he won’t meet your eyes the rest of the night. 
It’s nothing personal, but it’s sorely disappointing. 
You end the night, everyone splitting up, Eddie heading off towards his motorcycle. He hadn’t even mentioned driving a motorcycle during the night, and you curse the way you watch him straddle the seat as he secures his helmet over his tied-back hair. You desperately wish to know what was said while you were in the bathroom, what had happened to make him retreat so far from you after spending the entirety of the night tending to the greenery that had grown attached to your ribcage. 
“You like him, don’t you?” Robin teases at your side, bumping shoulders. 
Something aches in you. The thrill of meeting someone new, of getting along, of finding them cute and endearing, is beyond your grasp. 
He didn’t even say goodbye. 
“I did,” you whisper softly. A reverberation of past-tense, an exhale of worry. 
You did. But he didn’t even say goodbye. 
Eddie still hasn’t opened the door. But to his defense, you haven’t tried knocking again. 
That ache from that night, the feeling of a delicate rush of possibility taunting you from a distance, still remains. Even amongst now rotted vines, even as petals fall from your hopeful buds. It never really went away. With each group hangout that followed, it echoed louder and louder, demanding to be heard and demanding to be felt as Eddie grew colder. You were an idiot the first few times; you’d still gravitated to him, falling right into his orbit and begging for his attention. You’d still seek him out in every room, craving to find the warmth that had once sparked in his eyes only to find them averted from you entirely. And when you couldn’t take the hint, when you wouldn’t leave him alone when Steve and Robin left you to your own devices at the hangouts, he became mean. 
You took it as a joke at first, but six months ago, something inside of you finally wisened up – it wasn’t a joke. Eddie Munson hated you. Somehow, he hated you, and yet he also swore to protect you. He hated you, and yet he would still pay for you without you asking him to. He hated you, and yet he still remembered your birthday. He hated you, and yet, he still knew your favorite coffee shop. 
He hated you and yet. 
You stand, unable to take your racing thoughts anymore, moving to pound on the door again, “Eddie. Open the door.” 
You’re not asking anymore. 
You don’t care for answers any more. In this moment, you truly believe you could let it all be water under the bridge. Right this second, if you looked into honey brown eyes and goddamn dimples, you’d forgive him. 
“Eddie,” your voice cracks, and you scorn yourself. 
All I ever do is hurt you. 
Even in locking himself away, he’s hurting you. Putting that distance, choosing to not work this out like adults, is hurting you. 
“Can you- I don’t know, at least let me know that… that…” you trail off, huffing in frustration and finally smacking a flat palm against wood, watching the door shake on its hinges from your force, “Just let me know you’re alive, Jesus Christ, Eddie. We still have to take the stupid fucking photo for this hour, and we-” 
Mid-tirade, the door swings open to reveal Eddie. He doesn’t look irritated, he doesn’t look mad. He looks tired. 
The war between you two has weighed heavy on him, too. He doesn’t look like the same person you met a year ago. The battles raged, the fights lost, the victories celebrated through bloody teeth – they all show on the shadows of his face, a clear mirror image to your own. 
“Take the photo,” he says in monotone, hardly leaving the door cracked enough to catch a proper glimpse of him. 
“What?”
“The photo. Take it. For the chat, so you can get your money when it’s all over.” 
You’re stunned for a second. The money hadn’t even crossed your mind; you had just been rambling, hoping to find the right thing to say to get him to unlock the barrier between you two. 
Who the fuck even cares about the money anymore? 
You do. You’re supposed to. And so is he. 
You sigh and pull your phone from your back pocket, and turn your back to him before lifting the camera to capture the two of you. The door creaks open an inch more. 
There’s no fun pose. There’s no smiles. There’s nothing. It’s even more lifeless than the first photo taken. You can’t stand to look at it longer than necessary as you send it off to the group. 
Just as you turn around to face him again, to try and talk to him, the door shuts again. You can hear the soft click of a lock. The ache is heard, the ache is felt, as you refuse to look back at the wood that still separates you physically, at the emotions that separate you mentally.
You don’t really know why you do it. But you walk out to the living room, deciding against sitting outside the door any longer and continuing to make yourself miserable. Your feet carry you straight to the sliding door of his balcony, and you press outside into the cooler night air, shutting the door behind you. 
What happened when I was in the bathroom that night? 
The thought haunts you, a new ghost that had been lingering and gathering dust since that night. You never asked anyone, certainly not Eddie, and refuse to overthink it until now. But after tonight, after practically reliving your first encounter with Eddie all over again, the deja vu and the curiosity are winning over. 
You dial Steve’s number.
“Hell-”
“Why do me and Eddie hate each other?” you blurt out, cutting off Steve’s greeting. 
“I- What?” Steve’s confused, understandably so, “How should I know? I don’t keep a list of every time you rant about him to me.” 
“What about him?”
“Okay, you know I love you, but I’m not a mind-read-”
“What about a list of every time he rants about me?” 
Silence buzzes through the line, and you glance up at the night sky. It’s a cloudy black. The city pollution hides most of the stars, and from Eddie’s balcony, you can’t locate the moon. 
“I also don’t have one of those.” 
“Why not? Because, Jesus Christ, Harrington, I have questions-”
“Because he doesn’t rant about you. Especially not to me, but Nancy says he never talks about you usually either,” Steve explains in an even tone, still not sure how his answer should be helping you. You are the one, afterall, with Eddie right now. 
Even if he is locked away in his room right now, refusing to speak to you. 
“That makes no sense,” you sigh, exasperation creeping its way into your bones, “I rant about him all the time. I’ve bitched to you and Robin more times than I can count about him. He should be doing the same.” 
Steve says your name softly, “Why are you asking me this?” 
You laugh humorlessly and shake your head, even knowing Steve can’t see you, “It’s stupid. Forget it,” It’s not stupid to you, and you can’t forget it, but this doesn’t concern Steve, “Can I ask you one last question, though?”
“Shoot, babydoll,” you can’t help but grin at that nickname. Steve pulls it out at random, every time he’s trying to make you feel bad. He knows that neither of you can take it seriously. 
“Um, that night you introduced me to everyone,” you begin, stepping up to wrap your free hand around the iron railing of Eddie’s balcony, letting the cold seep into your palm, “At the bar, you know?” 
“Right…” he encourages, “What about it?” 
“Me and Eddie got along,” you spit it out, letting it tear from your chest and score your throat on its way out, “We… we were getting along at first, and then I went to the bathroom, and when I came back, he…. He…” 
He was gone. The Eddie I’d first met had vanished. Where’d he go? Why’d he go? 
“Shit, your memory is way better than mine,” Steve chuckles, sounding nervous, “But, I mean, I kind of remember that. You two getting along, at least. Guess that’s why we all were really confused when you started hating each other. But I’m still not understanding the question - are you asking if I remember the night? Or if he’s ever talked about it? I was a jock, you’re gonna have to spell it out for my pea brain.” 
“Stop insinuating you’re stupid,” you scold on instinct, scowl settling along your features as you lean onto the railing and glance down. It’s only two stories, but the ground feels impossibly far as you ask, “What happened when all us girls went to the bathroom? When we came back, he acted differently. Did he mention hating me that night? Did I leave a bad first impression? Was it all just a joke to hi-”
“Woah, woah, woah. Slow down. One question, remember?” you’re sure Steve can hear the panting in your breath over the line, the way your chest heaves in the memory, “I’ve gotta be honest - I don’t remember. I know that’s probably not the answer you’re looking for, and I don’t know what’s going on with you two right now, but I was already well on my way to drunk. I think Jonathan and Argyle poked some fun at Eddie, maybe teased him about something, but I really can’t recall what it was about. Maybe his hair? Who knows?” 
The answer isn’t helpful. It’s only more confusing, more hurtful. 
He stopped joking with you because someone made fun of his hair? You lost access to the warmth buried beneath his surface because his friends teased him? 
“Okay,” you sound defeated. You feel defeated – defeated by the weight of still feeling like an outsider, defeated by the barrier of some measly wooden door, defeated by the hurt in Eddie’s eyes as you admitted that he only ever hurts you, “Okay, thanks, Steve.” 
You hang up before either of you say goodbye. When you pull your phone down from your cheek and ear, you see your phone still open to the photo of Eddie and you that you’d sent to the group. 
You were wrong. There wasn’t only nothing. Your face may have been void of all emotions, but now looking at it, you can see Eddie’s isn’t. 
He’s looking at you and not the camera during the shot, face crestfallen, eyes nearly teary as the corners of his mouth tucked downward. 
He’s looking at you with regret, with sadness. He’s looking at you as if he can see the vines he’d planted in you, all rotted and dusting away, and he’s mourning them just as you had. 
It’s bullshit, or your imagination, or your innate need for Eddie to bleed the same way as you have over your entire situation with each other. You lock your phone and don’t bother to look at the photo again as you enter the living room, as you toss your phone onto the loveseat, as you curl up on the couch and don’t even bother to go to ask for a pillow or blanket. He probably wouldn’t answer the door, anyway. 
You don’t say goodnight to Eddie, just as he never said goodbye to you the first night, and wonder if he notices the absence of your salutation.
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leondickrider · 8 months
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relationship headcanons | leon s kennedy x gn!reader
💭 . . . hiii, so i moved to this account from my old account @movedoopsie so this an updated version of both of my old relationship headcanons posts and nsfw post (with some new bonus headcanons hehe) (‘. • ᵕ •. `)
before reading: fluff, suggestive, nsfw marked, some are sad bc i love making leon suffer ₍ᐡ。っ ̫-。ᐡ₎ not proofread | warnings: cursing, substance abuse mentioned | wc 2.1k
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love with him kinda gives me and your mama by childish gambino but very much guns and roses by lana del rey 🎀
ONE THING I FORGOT TO MENTION IN MY ORIGINAL POSTS: television heaven by lana del rey is so re2make leon coded !!!! and maybe perhaps starry eyed... just maybe...
it's canon that he listens to rock (refer to re2r opening) but I'm sure he would listen to alternative and hip hop
btw, to the spotify playlist makers, he would never listen to mother mother he is quite literally born in the 70s
also i doubt he would actually listen to lana del rey, but if he did he would listen to ultraviolence ₍ᐢ.”⚇.”ᐢ₎
when he's frustrated, he'll mutter curses under his breath like it's so sexy and hot and pussy soddening or dick hardening (I don't have a dick idk how it works)
he loves when you wear long, flowy dresses or shirts, especially if they are in white. if you get it you get it
he would like white clothes on you since white typically represents like purity and cleanliness. and with all the stuff he's been through and it's just comforting
his favorite colors are blue and green tho
he's a good kisser 10/10
leon definitely replies with the driest things ever over text. like you could say "hey baby I love you <3 be careful at work" and he'll say "Ok love you." and he uses the period too
also replies with 👍, 👎, 😀 and 😍
when you are both going to sleep at the same time, he will scratch your back out of habit, even if he falls asleep you will feel his hand making circular motions on your back
he's the lightest sleeper ever. he wakes up if you shift in bed too fast, if you make any unusual sound, literally wakes up so easily and this leads to him being very sleepy :(
he would want 2 kids so they aren't lonely. he wouldn't ever want his kids to feel the loneliness he felt as an orphan
he's a girl dad but if he had a son then you already know that kid is going to be a carbon copy of his dad
sometimes he comes home really drunk and he leans all over you, kissing you all over and saying how much he loves you and stuff and then he cries and then falls asleep
when he goes fishing or hunting or camping he always drags you along for it even if you complain
he looks like he goes camping like every season as the vacation he so desperately asks for 24/7
he doesn't understand text abbreviations. he's like a victorian child. he says "LOL" and doesn't even know what it means. "leon I'm feeling really sick, bring me some soup please" "Ok LOL."
he also replies really slowly to texts sometimes, it's not even on purpose he is just has no clue how to iphone
during missions, he has those cute lil kitten sneezes (like in re4r) but at home this man forces them to be obnoxiously loud because it always makes you giggle
and his hearts melts a little every time you giggle. your laughter is like his favorite sound in the whole wide world
he gets home at unholy hours of the night usually, so he usually just goes to the bedroom, gives you a kiss on your forehead or cheek while you're asleep and takes a quick shower before sleeping
however on nights where you wait for him to get home he is taken by surprise when you fling yourself into his arms when he enters
when be walks in he'll be like "sono a casa..." really quietly
yeah he learned a little italian bc he's like a mafioso son basically so he decided "why not just learn italian and make my girlfriend swoon over it?" il mio king
he's incredibly insecure in relationships. he thinks you deserve better than him, somebody who can be there for you without fail and isn't heavily traumatized
when you're sick he will literally do everything for you, he doesn't let you do anything until you're better
even when you aren't sick he does everything, he justa bit more lenient
hero complex ofc, he loves being there to 'save you' even if it's just helping you get something off the top shelf or helping you zip up a dress or a shirt
always puts his bed by you in minecraft even tho he has no idea how to play :3
also, loves bear hugging you. but he also does those hugs where he lifts you up completely and spins you around a little
if you where in raccoon city with him he would do the spinning hug the second you were finally safe
when he's feeling really affectionate (usually when he's a lil tipsy) he'll tell you things like "sei tutto il mio mondo" and "sei la metà della mia mela" (this is so cute if you also love apples)
he's a heavyweight this man can handle his alcohol, so if you get drunk easy like me, then yea he's def got you covered
doesn't let anybody he doesn't trust near you when you're drunk
also, even when he's drunk he's very protective. he's actually more protective
he is really good at comforting you when you need it but often pushes you away when you need it :(
sometime he will disappear for long periods of times. and he cuts off all contact. but eventually you will get a call from somebody like chris, claire, etc. that leon was drinking and they were bringing him home
he goes through cycles of highs where he stops drinking and lows where he drinks excessively (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥`)
sometimes he'll send you random selfies when he gets service or random texts like "Hi." and tbh it scared the shit out of you to just get a random Hi when he's in the middle of like the desert a few times
he isn't really good with physical affection, he'll give you awkward hugs and hold your hands but he's just very awkward in general so...
but if we're talking cute re2make leon then omfg hugs 24/7 he will not keep his hands off you
he isn't really into pda bc he's shy about it, he will hold your hand and maybe give you an awkward side hug but that's really it unless it's one of those special occasions lmfao
this is kind of random but when he's alone he likes to look at old pictures of you both and just reminisce on the past ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა
re2make leon the typa guy to play just dance with you
maybe re4make if he's in love enough (he is)
his style is actually really good so he ALWAYS looks so good next to you (refer to casual leon model) 🐩
he sings in the shower sometimes
he likes to take showers with you since it's relaxing when you wash his hair since you have like soft hands and not his big thick meaty manly leather beefy hands
falls asleep with light piano music and rain audios in the background 😭
his instagram is basically a fanpage for you. always appreciating you!! "My s/o took this." "Date night night with s/o." "Imagine not having the prettiest bestest amazingest s/o ever."
he and ada are mutuals, this is his revenge for ghosting him lol
takes you on picnic dates a lot
for people with periods, he is like so good with helping you woth getting tampons/pads, getting medicine, etc etc
his ideal house with you would be one of those stereotypical white american family suburb houses (he's so american i'll never let him live down calling luis 'lewis' 😭)
he pledge allegiance to the flag he is a PATRIOT🇺🇸
he spoils the hell out of you !!!! you look at a dress twice? magically in your closet the next day. you look at a pretty necklace that costs more than a car? he already got it
government paycheck
when he was 21 he dreamed of having a really normal life with you. a normal house, normal cars, 2 kids, a dog, all these other totally normal things
he does not get the normal life lol
nsfw
he is very territorial, he definitely marks you up in spots that are very visible and harder to hide
he isn't really picky about what lingerie you wear but if you wear white sets with little blue or pink ribbons then you got your work cut out for you
he's very romantic during sex. on anniversaries he'll even get rose petals and candles in you're into that kinda stuff lol
had to buy a whole different phone just for videos/photos of you both because his phone has a ton of work things and he didn't want to risk accidentally sending the wrong picture to the wrong person
when he gets back from missions that were very stressful and got him pent up then sex is way rougher than usual
he is definitely into worshipping your body. he'll tell you how beautiful you are and kiss every inch if your skin that he can
sometime he'll also say some italian things to you while you do the deed like "sei molto bella"
when he's horny he'll tell you "mi ecciti così tanto"
although, italian bedroom talk is kinda cringe sometimes so he usually sticks to english
he is definitely very experienced, he's been with several women, usually one night stands. but we do also know he had a girlfriend before resi 2 so there's that
he would prefer sex stays in the bedroom, or the house at least
he probably gets pleasure from making you get pleasure. like just from eating you out he will... yea
as i said before, territorial 😊
one of his sexual fantasies is fucking you while he's on a mission but he probably wouldn't want to take that risk bc like zombies
it's not rare to have quickies in the mornings
he's big like maybe 6 or 7 inches? he may not have a könig bulge but he's absolutely packing
dirty talk. says things like "y'like that princess?" "that feel good?" "i know you like it baby" "you feel so girl pretty girl" "look at me lovie" when you close ur eyes
man is a freak (refer to THAT clip from death island)
however, sex with him is usually really vanilla simply because he is too tired from all these missions to be doing all that
when it's not vanilla he's a switch simply bc I know it. he'll let you take the reins from time to time, but he is always the one in control if we're being fr
also i'm pretty sure he's top leaning because like... the shit he's been through?? he'd want a little control over something and having control in bed makes him feel really powerful
he still likes to bottom tho lol
he also calls u mommy or daddy or master or mistress if u a freaky freak lol
loves brat taming!!!!!
he likes to hold your hand while having sex
enjoys morning sex lots, especially the morning after he returns from a mission. he's too exhausted the night of returning, so he wakes up early and fucks you
love love loves missionary bc he gets to look at your face and he can just look down to see him yk thrusting (goodbye i hate this word)
i will say tho sometimes he will say the most outlandish things like "i wanna pump so many babies into you that we repopulate raccoon city" but it's ok bc it's leon
loves white sets on you (refer to 8)
sooo good with after care!!! if you need something he will do it or get it. want a snack? he's grabbing it. want a nice warm bubble bath? he's running the water and grabbing the soap for bubbles
spoils you with aftercare tbh.... after him you really cannot ever get better aftercare
very vocal, lots of whimpers and whines coming from him
really good with his hands, I mean look at the way he handles guns. i'm sure his hands come in handy in more ways than just flipping a gun around
amazing with his tongue and mouth as well 🎀
he love love loves when u sit on his face !!!
when you give him head he likes to rub your scalp and he makes the most attractive noises ever
he owns a couple toys. he def owns a vibrator and a pair of handcuffs
he probably has no preference to if you're shaved or not when he's older
but when he's younger he prefers it shaved or trimmed cuz he lives between your legs and it gets a bit annoying getting hair in his mouth 😭
(i'm sorry if all the nsfw seems aimed towards afab people, I literally have no idea how to write for amab but i'm trying to spoil everybody...)
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౨ৎ translations "sono a casa" i'm home; "il mio [re]" my king; "sei tutto il mio mondo" you are my whole world; "sei la metà della mia mela" you are half of my apple; "sei molto bella" you're very beautiful; "mi eciti così tanto" you're turning me on | please correct me if any of this is wrong since i rarely speak to my italian friends and family and i don't say these things to them. i had to research :)
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reblogs and replies appreciated always <3
leon kennedy masterlist
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yazthebookish · 3 months
Text
House of Flame and Shadow
Prologue and Chapter 1 reading updates
(Warning: spoilers below!!)
Prologue (Lidia's POV)
Morven and Einar are pieces of shit.
I guess Cormac is gone for good 💔
At least we got some descriptions of how some of the other Asteri look like. It still bothers me Rigelus chose the form of a 17-year-old boy. Ugh what a creep.
"Quinlan and Athalar are mates. She will return to this world because of that bond. And when she does, she will go straight to him."
THEY 👏🏼 ARE 👏🏼 MATES 👏🏼
"Athalar and Baxian dangled unconscious from the ceiling, their torsos patchworks of scars and burns. And their backs..."
The Asteri better start counting their fucking days.
"Lidia couldn't look at the third figure hanging between them. Couldn't get a breath down near him."
UGH!!!!
"Baxian still hung unconscious. Pollux had beaten him into a bloody pulp last night after severing his and Athalar's wings with a blunt-toothed saw. The Helhound didn't so much as stir."
Pollux I hope you'll burn in the deepest pit of Hell and get to have the worst death in the history of SJM character deaths.
"They'd never spoken mind-to-mind outside of their dreaming, but she'd been trying since he'd arrived here. Again and again, she'd cast her mind toward his. Only silence answered."
This sounds a whole lot like a Daemati. Like I'm still not sure if she is but it seems like it.
---
Chapter 1 (Bryce's POV)
"The darkness seemed inherent to the three people standing across from her: a petite female in gray silk, and two winged males clad in black scalelike armor, one of them-the beautiful, powerful male in the center of the trio— literally rippling with shadows and stars. Rhysand, he'd called himself. The one who looked so much like Ruhn."
Let's fucking gooooo!!
"You said your name is Bryce Quinlan. That you come from another world —Midgard." Rhysand murmured to the winged male beside him. Translating, perhaps.
Yes Rhys show us how useful your Duolingo lessons were.
Rhys seems to be agitated about her.
Master of spinning bullshit, indeed. "So maybe I'm here for that. Maybe the sword sensed that dagger and ... brought me to it." Silence. Then the silent, hazel-eyed warrior laughed quietly. How had he understood without Rhysand translating? Unless he could simply read her body language, her tone, her scent—The warrior spoke with a low voice that skittered down her spine. Rhysand glanced at him with raised brows, then translated for Bryce with equal menace, "You're lying."
Bryce, honey, that's the Spymaster of the Night Court.
"I just watched my mate and my brother get captured by a group of intergalactic parasites," she snarled. "I have no interest in doing anything except finding a way to help them." Rhysand looked to the warrior, who nodded, not taking his gaze off Bryce for so much as a blink. "Well," Rhysand said to Bryce, crossing his muscled arms. "That's true, at least."
Not Azriel functioning as Rhysand's personal lie detector. Impressive though.
" I do not pry where I am not willingly invited." Bryce lurched back in the chair, nearly knocking it over at the smooth male voice in her mind. Rhysand's voice. But she answered, thanking Luna for keeping her own voice cool and collected, "Code of mind-speaking ethics?"
LOLOLOLOLOL 🤣🤣🤣🤣
"So this is it, then. This is where we-the Midgard Fae— originated. My ancestors left this world and went to Midgard. .. and we forgot where we came from."
The theory I had since before even HOSAB came out is finally confirmed. I mean it was semi-confirmed in HOSAB but some readers still debated it.
The corner of Rhysand's mouth curled upward. "We will not torture it from you, nor will I pry it from your mind. If you choose not to talk, it is indeed your choice. Precisely as it will be my choice to keep you down here until you decide otherwise."
Bryce couldn't stop herself from coolly surveying the room, her attention lingering on the grate and the hissing that drifted up from it. "'ll be sure to recommend it to my friends as a vacation spot."
Of course Rhys has to pull the "choice" speech whenever he can 🤣 also, BRYCE LOL!!!
"You haven't seen it in fifteen thousand years, or spoken this language in nearly as long-which lines up pertectly with the timeline of the Starborn Fae arriving in Midgard."
So they exist in the same timeline then but Midgard happens to be more advanced.
"It is in our history, Rhysand," Amren said gravely. "But the Asteri were not known by that name. Here, they were called the Daglan."
Asteri are the Daglan, we guessed as much in HOSAB but that's another theory confirmed now!
"Azriel, without Rhysand to translate, watched in silence. Bryce could have sworn shadows wreathed him, like Ruhn's, yet... wilder. The way Cormac's had been."
Ruhn's darkness seemed more similar to Rhys, but Cormac was close to what we know of Shadowsingers. But if Shadows are an Avallen Fae's gifts then how is Azriel one? We're told Shadowsingers are not specific to any courts but there are no Shadowsinger Fae in Midgard than Avallen Fae. But Azriel has a unique way with his shadows (given that magic is more powerful in Prythian.
"The Veritas orb?" Amren said, and Azriel lifted an eyebrow.
Oh damn.
Rhysand mastered himself, a cool mask sliding into place. "You live in such a world." It wasn't entirely a question. But Bryce nodded. "Yes." "And they want to bring all of that ... here." "Yes." Rhysand stared ahead. Thinking it through. Azriel just kept his eyes on the space where the orb had displayed the utter destruction of her world. Dreading-and yet calculating. She'd seen that look before on Hunt's face. A warrior's mind at work.
She showed them the destruction and all the weapons the Asteri have. She even showed them Rigelus. Rhys, Azriel, and even Amren seem at a loss for words.
Bryce examined the silver bean that lay smooth and gleaming in her hand. Amren said without looking at her, "You swallow it, and it will translate our mother tongue for you. Allow you to speak it, too." "Fancy," Bryce murmured.
Of course they have a pill for translating any language and here we've been pondering about how they would communicate.
Amen turned to Rhysand and said in that new, strange language -their language: "The glowing letters inked on her back... they're the same as those in the Book of Breathings."
Oooooh Leshon Hakodesh 👀
Then Azriel said in a soft, lethal voice, "Explain or you die."
Holy hell that's hot—I mean—Azriel that's not a way to treat a woman chill the fuck out.
---
And we got to the end. This is what SJM only had available on her website. 4 more days until I get the full book and continue then 🤩!!
Also, Azriel's shadows seem to be around and thriving after all 😌 I recall being told they're gone for good based on HOSAB's ending, not that I took it seriously Lol.
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charliemwrites · 5 months
Text
Rudolfo time!!
(Slightly more kidnap-y but not entirely through his fault. Also, this character is mute, I hope i portrayed it well but please let me know if I’ve used any words or phrases that aren’t correct)
You aren’t actual cartel. Not a single one of them would protect you or have your back or even spare you a sip of beer. No, you’re just a runner. Transport messages, mostly. Code words that aren’t usually that clever, USBs sometimes. Once a shitty flip phone.
You don’t want to be cartel. Even tangentially as their messenger. But your family needs the money, badly, and they pay well. Especially when you’re good at what you do. And you are. Perks of a messenger who can’t speak your secrets.
In the end, you don’t even think it’s your fuck up. Just wrong place, wrong time, and a very important thing that you’re carrying for the cartel.
You don’t resist Los Vaqueros. Go along quietly and politely. When they ask you questions you just shake your head, hands trapped behind your back and unable to sign an explanation. No matter how they shout and threaten and explain how much trouble you’re in (and oh don’t you know it) you can’t answer beyond over-exaggerated facial expressions and weird half-gestures.
They drag you to their colonel and his second. The colonel is scary. Scarier than any cartel lieutenant you’ve faced. The more he yells and gestures, the more scared you get. You don’t know these men, after all, don’t know how far they’ll go in pursuit of stopping the cartel.
It’s Rudolfo that steps in, something in his face curious. He squats down in front of the chair they’ve sat you in, expression easy and calm.
“Can you tell us your name?” he asks.
You sigh softly and shake your head.
“Can’t or won’t?”
You swallow, blink once. Thankfully, he gets it.
“You can’t speak?”
Relief floods you as you shake your head, shoulders slumping.
“If we get your hands free, can you find some to communicate with us?”
You nod, leaning forward a bit. He clicks your cuffs loose and you’re quick to begin signing but he puts his hands up.
“Wait, wait, it’s been a long time since I saw LSM. Let’s get you an interpreter.”
They bring in one of the other Vaqueros, who speaks as your hands move. You tell them your name, where you’re from, answer their questions.
Please, I’m scared. I don’t want work for them anymore but my family…
Even the colonel has softened as you’ve cooperated, softens further at that last message.
“We’ll secure your family. In the meantime, write down everything you can remember. Locations, names, messages, packages. Anything and everything,” he explains.
He leaves Rudolfo in charge of you. You… don’t mind. He’s patient as you find a way to organize things, carefully written index cards organized in groups. Names accompanied by physical descriptions, where you saw them, what you brought them. Vehicles, code words, and anything else you saw while delivering.
Rudolfo is surprisingly kind to you. He offers you food and water, updates on your family. (They won’t speak to you for working with the cartel. You understand… but it hurts. Rudolfo is gentle as you cry into your hands).
He talks to you. You don’t understand why, but he does. Tells you about Los Vaqueros, Alejandro Vargas, himself. Waits patiently for while you write out answers about yourself.
When it gets to be late and you’re just entirely wrung out, you finally ask, why are you being so nice?
“I don’t blame you for trying to help your family. The cartel prays on the vulnerable. You made a mistake, and now you’re trying to fix it. That’s what matters to me.”
You’re not allowed to leave. Even if you were, you wouldn’t want to. The world seems even bigger and scarier than before, now that your former employers will mark you as a turncoat. You are, of course, but it’s frightening. It wears you out.
Rudolfo clucks after your health, asking if you’ve slept or eaten. You hardly ever have. He’ll cart you off for a meal or a nap, promising to stand watch, that no one will bother you. You often end up in his clothes, few of your own as you’ve got.
He’s also learning to sign. The first time he says, good morning how did you sleep, you start crying. He gives you a big hug until you stop.
When he has time you help him practice. He’s teaching the others too. They’ve learned how your hands form “Rudy” to help you find him.
One day, he and Alejandro sit you down. You’ve long exhausted what you can actively remember from being the cartel’s messenger. It was only a matter of time, you think. Your usefulness has ended.
“You’ve been granted a full pardon given the circumstances and your cooperation,” Alejandro explains. You’ve warmed up to each other quite a bit since you first arrived. “You’re no longer detained here.”
You nod, trying to blink away the stinging in your eyes. You should be happy, relieved, grateful. They didn’t have to pardon you.
But all you can think about is having to leave. You’ve come to feel safe here with Los Vaqueros. With Rudy.
“You don’t have to,” he blurts.
You blink at him, a bit startled by the unusual outburst. He runs a hand down his face, starting to flush.
“You don’t have to stay… but you don’t have to leave,” he explains. “We’ll keep you safe here.”
You stare, throat thick with emotion. He takes that to be hesitation and leans forward, taking one of your hands in both of his.
“Let me keep you safe. Please.”
You stay. How can you not?
You don’t actually know what your official job is on base - except that it’s a lot of following Rudy around. So, nothing to complain about.
He keeps a close eye on you always. That the others are at least cordial given your past. Has squared up with one or two others for questioning your loyalty. He’s not an easy man to anger but people quickly learn that you are the exception.
The first time he brings you a flower, you fawn over it before making him place it in your braid. After that, your hair is often adorned in dahlias and roses and honeysuckle. He swears that you smell like them even after they’re gone.
You’re in love with him, can’t imagine any other conclusion you could come to. It hurts when you see new recruits flirting with him, or women out at the bars. Can’t blame them either, really.
“Why the long face?” he asks after politely declining an offer to dance. You were hoping you hid in your drink fast enough. “No, no, not on my watch, flower.”
He stands and gently urges you to your feet, guides you out onto the dance floor and sweeps you into the rhythm of bachata. You fluster, hide your face against his chest as he laughs.
“There we go,” he chuckles, “that’s better than looking sad.”
You huff, caught between longing and enjoying the moment. He leads you through two more songs before taking you outside for fresh air, a hand on the smell of your back even once you’re leaning on the balcony.
“What is it?” he asks. “What’s wrong?”
You try to figure out how to explain without ruining everything. His eyes dart between your hands and your face, trying to decipher a garbled message that just won’t form.
I just…. like you too much, you admit finally.
He tilts his head, but pauses to consider that. Then shakes his head and crowds close. Your hands press against his chest, feel his heart beating hard and strong against your palm.
“Impossible,” he replies. “You can’t like me too much when I love you.”
And he says it so simply, like the desert is hot or the sky is blue. You stare at him, mouth parted. He grins, swoops in to kiss you, little more than a peck compared to what you crave.
“C’mon, let’s go home. We have a lot to talk about I think.”
Home brings clarity. It brings promises. It brings you a man that massages your hands when they get tired from writing, who teaches you his grandmother’s tamale recipe.
Home is a man who laces flowers in your hair. Who teaches you to shoot and how to pick handcuffs. He brings a life where you’re always pointed in his direction, or he in yours. Safe inside his base, with his soldiers.
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wh0relibrarian · 4 months
Text
sunshine
a/n: a continuation of this post, although altered to be a summer break instead of winter. completely got lost in that 😭 please excuse any informalities, i’m still getting used to writing in second person (or smut for that matter), and tumblrs post format! so don’t be mean ;(
context (if you don't want to read the previous post): Reader is visiting her hometown for the summer. A rising grad student who just so happens to bump into Sukuna at the airport. After quick introductions, he gives her his number in case she gets too lonely...
content ahead: southern sukuna au, black coded!reader, afab!reader, d referred to as dick bc i don’t like using “cock”, v referred to as cunt or pussy, age gap (reader in her early 20s, sukuna is in his early 30s), cowgirl, daddy kink, rough!sukuna (but he’s still a softie), needy!reader, clit stimulation, nicknames such as sweetheart, princess, baby/babydoll, creampie, ass/face slaps, lots of praise, a decent amount of plot
word count: 3.9k
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
You’ve been texting Sukuna for a week now. Off and on, trying not to seem too interested, but interested enough to keep his attention. It sucked that he was a man very obviously out of touch with technology, because you can’t find pictures of him anywhere. Not even a Facebook page. You’ve just been grasping at straws, trying to remember each detail of his face. Each tattoo. You didn’t even get enough time to admire the one’s on his face, way too engulfed in his general appearance.
And oh, Sukuna. That poor man. He knew from the moment he saw you that you’d keep him up at night. From the curvature of your lips— only being the opening act to the beautiful smile you had hidden beneath. He tries to remember what color your shirt was, but can only remember how plump your tits looked. Practically spilling out of a… tank top? Or maybe it was a crop top. You had a jacket on, which he knows was gray because you kept trying to wrap it around your waist like you were embarrassed by your body. He couldn’t figure out why, though. You’re beautiful from head to toe, every part of you.
But today, today was the day you’d ask him to take you out. Or just ask to go out in general. Hell, you’d take anything at this point.
You: Hiii Sukuna. How’s your wrist feeling? I know a couple days ago you said it was progressively getting worse, any updates?
Sukuna: Hey babydoll. I think it’s all good now. Nothin a lil icyhot can’t fix. How are you?
You: I’m happy to hear that :) and I’m okay, just bored, per usual.
Sukuna: Ya know I’m always around.
You: It’s funny you mention that… I was wondering if you were busy later today? Or tonight. Either or, whatever works best for you. If you would even want to do anything of course.
Sukuna: City girl finally ready to get some sunshine?
You: Don’t make fun of me 😑
Sukuna: Oh I’d never do such a thing. Are you free right now? My lunch break’s comin up, could use the company.
You: Yes I am! I can be ready in 15, I’ll send my address.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
You weren’t as nervous as you thought you’d be. You know you looked good, you felt good. You put on a casual outfit, just a pair of bell bottoms and some old t-shirt your mom left around. This wasn’t a date, and you didn’t want to scare him, so you treated it like a normal hang out with a friend.
He picked you up in an old pickup truck, run down from the years spent riding on dirt roads and an occasional swamp. (Things can get messy the further south you go.) It was normal where you’re from to have at least one beat up truck per household, so his car was not a problem. You were all smiles, nearly skipping your way to the passenger side. Sukuna rolled down the window and he too had a bright toothy smile plastered on his face. It almost looked malicious, but you overlooked it once you got in. Something about his presence had you in a trance, you couldn’t focus on anything else but him.
When you opened the door, he stretched his arm out to help you into the chair. You made it a point to act as if you were struggling to get in and shut the door, nerves suddenly keeping you from wanting to look him straight in the eye. “Damn sweetheart… just look at you,” he said while leaning his body back, taking a moment to take in your appearance. “Hiii Sukuna, you aren’t too bad yourself,” you said giggling.
“We’re just goin’ up to Milo’s, hope that’s luxury enough for ya.”
“You think I came dressed like this for somethin’ luxury?”
“Well if that ain’t luxury, I’d be curious to see what is.”
Smirking, Sukuna went back to putting his full focus on the road. The butterflies in your stomach had died down, finding his presence incredibly inviting and safe. You were looking out the window for a while, until his hand found yours which was resting on your thigh. You turn around to him surprised, only to see his eyes still trained on the road in front of him. His hand clasped yours and gripped it tight, and you found the silence warm, like a gentle hug you wanted to last forever.
The lunch date was sweet. You both ordered cheeseburgers, fries, and a large sweet tea; reveling in its taste since it had been some time since you had genuine sweet tea. He started asking you about your schooling, learning that you’re majoring in business and will soon start working on your master’s degree. This charmed him— you were both alike even if it was in different ways. You’ve always provided for your mother, and so has he. You won’t stop reaching new opportunities, and neither will he. As the date went on his attraction only grew deeper. Your physical appearance did not mean much to him, you were to die for, but right now he wanted to know every single thing about you and didn’t care about anything else.
But… this wasn’t to say he’s not a curious man.
When ordering the food, you took a step back to look at the entire menu. This caused your skin tight shirt to rise up ever so slightly, showing off your cute tummy and belly button piercing. You noticed him staring, and he was never one to lie.
“Sukuna, order some damn food and stop looking at me like that,” you slapped his large bicep jokingly, making that same smirk from earlier slowly grow on his face.
“Mmm, you hidin’ that accent from me girl. Soundin’ so pretty bossin’ me around.”
You could tell the cashier felt a bit awkward at this point, so you pushed Sukuna in front of you to get him to focus.
Even though he would have moments like those, you didn’t feel like he was objectifying you. It never became the focal point of your conversations. It seemed like he was genuinely interested in getting to know you and it made you feel so… different. Sure you were young, but you’d never experienced such a natural yet interesting conversation with a man. You were shocked by it, to say the least, and it only made you want him more.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
After that day, you two were basically inseparable. He made it a point to try and see you after work, and if there was a day where he couldn’t do it, he’d make it up to you x2 the next day. He immediately started spoiling you, whether it was food or sending you money for new makeup, it’s like he couldn't do enough for you. You were always beyond grateful, and would even tell him to tone it down a bit, but he’d always say, “Princesses deserve princess things.”
It’d been around four weeks of this, the dates would get more romantic, and his time with you only more cherished. Although the flirting continued to grow, he never made a move on you. You definitely didn’t want to be the one to initiate anything. Maybe there was a reason for him not wanting to get physical, but not even a kiss? It was killing you at this point, every night you spent just dreaming of what his pretty lips felt like on yours. Not being able to help your hands traveling down to your aching pussy. You were so horny it hurt, and nothing you did could satiate the feeling; knowing good and well that his fingers— let alone his dick could reach spots you didn’t even know were there. Your own fingers would suffice for now, but you would be leaving in just a few weeks, you needed to know what Ryomen Sukuna was like in bed.
So, the next time he picks you up, you make sure to look drop dead gorgeous (not like he didn’t think that about you regardless.)
A few days ago, he paid for your hair and nail appointments. Large knotless braids with curly pieces coming out of them, and the prettiest french tip set you’d ever got done. You told him you wanted everything to be a surprise, and that you were planning to get a new outfit as well AND that he didn’t have to send you money for that. But you know he did anyway. The plan for this night was a drive-in movie closer to the heart of the city rather than where you both resided. There was a wing place you loved, different shops, and the movie would be the last activity.
After picking up a new sundress, a black one with thin straps and a slit at the bottom, you felt confident enough that tonight would go well. You took a shower when you got home, lathered your skin with shea butter from head to toe, and put on all the gold jewelry you owned.
There’s no way he wouldn’t want to fuck you dumb.
As always, dinner with Sukuna was to die for. He was such a gentleman, making sure to pull your chair out for you, telling you to get whatever you wanted from the menu. “Don’t be scared sweetheart, want you nice ‘n full.”
You shopped for a little while after, well, it was really window shopping. You felt so bad that Sukuna was paying for everything, even though he always insisted. You decided to just point out all of the things you liked, kind of like a test— if he really liked you then he’d remember all these things for a future event.
The drive-in was dead. Which I guess isn’t too surprising, you can’t remember the last time someone talked about seeing a movie here. Nonetheless, this was your dream scenario. With basically no one to catch you guys, it was the perfect breeding ground (literally.) The movie was some rom-com looking thing in black and white which you begged to watch, only because you knew neither of you would want to pay attention. Once he grabbed some popcorn and soda from the concession stand, he pulled up in front of the big projection, claiming he needed to be as close as possible because of his eyesight. After a few minutes of pretending to be interested, you turned to him and finally broke the ice.
“‘Kuna, do you like me?” Sukuna couldn’t believe the question.
“Of course I like you baby, why else would I be here?”
“Well,” you started, “I don’t know…”
“Oh, you know.”
“I know you like me, it’s just like— we aren’t like… you know.”
“Gonna have to use your words sweetheart.”
You looked forward as you tried to find the best way to say this, you decided to just rip the bandaid off.
“We haven’t kissed! Or anything! You just hug me or wrap your arm around my waist, but we haven’t done nothin’ ‘kuna. And I’m not sayin’ that’s any indicator of how much you like me, I’m just sayin’ it’d be ni—”
You anticipated this kiss, not only because you did everything in your power to set it up, but you could feel Sukuna’s eyes latching onto the way your lips moved while talking. His lips were just as soft as you imagined, tasting like cherry carmex and popcorn. His hand found its way to the side of your face, cupping it gently until he moved it to tilt your chin up towards him. Your mouth opened a little from the change in angle, giving Sukuna’s tongue access to the warmth yours had to offer. He melted deeper into the kiss, and so did you, as it continued to get more sloppy and wet. You could tell he was eager, swirling and dancing on the tip of your tongue, sucking it harshly like he was trying to gather as much saliva as possible. Just to pull back and have it leak out of his mouth, dripping down both his and your chin. It was downright nasty the way your fluids were colliding, but it turned you on an unbelievable amount. Whining and groaning into him, rubbing your thighs together, lacking the correct amount of friction from wearing a dress instead of pants.
Your hand started traveling to his chest and lower, and he could tell you were really riled up at this point simply from the way you were tugging on his shirt. He pulled his lips off yours, making you reach out for him still since your eyes were closed. When you opened them, you were able to see the true mess you two caused. Sukuna was drooling, his heavy lidded eyes not daring to move from your frame. His hair was everywhere, and you couldn’t be happier with your hairstyle of choice.
“Fuck baby,” he said while rubbing on the sides of your stomach, “I really need you. I’ve been needin’ you. Yer just so damn sexy, of course I’ve been wantin’ to do stuff. Just didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable.” He leaned in to kiss your cheek and up to the shell of your ear, “Never want you uncomfortable.”
And that sent you over, you cupped his face with both of your hands, kissing him hard. He growled from your sudden dominance, and with a few swift movements, pulled his seat back and slid you over the middle console and into his lap. Your dress hiked up to your thighs once you straddled him, allowing Sukuna to feel just how wet you were. With one hand on your face, and the other on your waist, he slowly made his way down to your cunt.
“So fuckin’ wet for me,” he whispered against your lips, making slow circles on your puffy clit. “This f’me? Say it’s for me babydoll.”
“It’s for you ‘kuna, it’s all for you. Please–” His fingers slid your panties to the side, revealing just how sticky you were for him. Your pussy was basically crying to be touched, and Sukuna was a gentleman, of course.
His mouth never left yours, left hand now resting behind your neck, while his other is furiously rubbing your bare clit. Your moans were being swallowed by Sukuna’s mouth, and when the pleasure finally got to be too much, you suddenly threw your head back with a yelp. Catching yourself immediately, you press your forehead into his.
“‘M sorry, fuck, ‘m sorry— it’s t-too much.”
“Don’t apologize princess, I love seein’ you act like this. So slutty.”
Your tits have barely been able to stay concealed in your already showy dress. They spilled out on their own from your sporadic movements, and once Sukuna could see one, he dropped everything to unveil the other and fondle them both. You kept grinding on his very hard dick, keeping up the rhythm he set up for you while he went to town on your boobs. Massaging them, pinching and flicking the nipples, mumbling things like “fuckin’ shit they’re so soft,” and “need to fuck you.” It wasn’t long before he popped one into his mouth, sucking on it, making it soo much more sensitive. You were squealing at this point, Sukuna looked up at you to see the tears forming at the corner of your eyes. With a ‘pop’ he brought his attention back to your beautiful face. Somehow fucked out just from dry humping. How cute, he thought to himself.
“Look at me, princess.” You struggled, but your eyes met his, still striving for your release. “‘M gonna fuck you, okay? Is that what you want?” You started nodding your head yes like a damn puppy.
“Need to hear you say it princess. Tell me you want it.”
“Wan’ it s-so bad baby, fuck me, I need you to fuck me.”
The thing about pick-up trucks is that there’s not really a backseat, which means you’d have to ride him right where you were. This wouldn’t have been a problem, until Sukuna quickly pulled down his pants and boxers, revealing probably the biggest dick you’ve ever seen. It was the fucking length that scared you. It wasn’t too thick, but girthy enough that it, plus his length, would have your legs shaking for days. He gave his dick slow strokes while you took off your dress, suddenly feeling embarrassed from being the only one naked. He could see you get self conscious by the way you try and hide yourself like the day he met you.
“Whatcha lookin’ at me like that for,” his eyes were still focused on yours while he prepared himself, licking his lips like he was genuinely going to eat you later.
“I can’t look at ya? You just look so damn good sweetheart. Can’t believe yer all mine.”
“You don’t have to gas me up now,” you said looking away.
“Nuh-uh,” he grabbed your cheeks and turned your face back to his, “I’ma always tell you how good you look. Don’t act so shy now baby.”
Your pussy clenched around nothing at his statement, still leaking from the previous foreplay. He pulled your forehead to his lips, kissing it tenderly, and when he let go of your face he asked you one last time if you were ready. You whisper out a shy yes and grab his dick cautiously, lining it up with your entrance as you slowly lower yourself onto it. You let out a sharp grasp as Sukuna rests his hands on the sides of your hips, trying to assist in any way he can. Once you’re close to bottoming out, he starts whispering praises.
“Doin’ so good babydoll.”
“Look at you takin’ me so well.
Every time he spoke your pussy would clench around him, making him hiss and choke back a whine. Once he was all the way inside you, you let out a breathe you didn’t realize you were holding. You raised your head to look at him instead of the way he was stretching you out. There’s that smirk again. One of his hands finds it’s way back to your clit, rubbing slow circles like before to help you relax. You were so tense but you tried to keep a level-headed face, even though it literally felt like you were being split in two.
You felt your walls get used to his size and shape, feeling them contort and mold into Sukuna’s cocksleeve. With that, you start riding him slowly, using his shoulders to stay balanced. You got the hang of it quickly and began picking up pace. He was still stimulating your clit, using his other hand to keep guiding your body up and down. It was clear that you were struggling to take him all in though, pausing every few seconds to catch your breathe or readjust yourself. And this would just not do for Sukuna.
He gripped and slapped your ass hard.
“Gotta do better than that baby.”
Smack
“C’mon sweetheart, put your fucking. back. into. it.”
Each emphasis on a word was coupled with a hard thrust and loud whines coming from the depths of your throat. The sounds you were both making at this point bounced around the truck. There wasn’t a moment of silence and you felt blissful. Lulling your tongue out just for Sukuna to catch between his teeth; moving his hand back to bully your clit, and using his free hand to grab your face and continue fucking his hips up into yours. He was growling obscenities into your ear, “Yeah baby, just like that keep fucking me like that.”
“Sukuna, please! Fuckfuckfuck I can’t,” you were bouncing on his dick beautifully, tits bouncing in unison and he truly believed you were unreal.
“Yes you can baby,” he gave your face light slaps, “keep those eyes open, keep lookin’ at me baby. Doin’ so good, I promise.” You were leaking like a faucet down his dick and balls, and with a certain thrust, you were sure he was hitting your cervix. The string of cries that came out of your mouth made him go faster, harder, knowing that he finally found the spot that makes you weak.
“Am I makin’ you feel good baby?”
“Mhmm, y-yesss, so so good.”
“Yes who?” Your eyes were crossing trying to look at him, confused at what he meant at first, but as his thrusts got rougher you knew exactly what he was getting at.
“Y-yes daddy, it feels so good.” You were slightly embarrassed by the things you were saying, the noises too. You felt so dirty, but in a good way. Searching for your release that was so close.
Sukuna was close too, but he didn’t want that to come before he made you gush all over his dick. When he found his way to your neck, kissing and biting and sucking on your precious skin, you were done.
“Fuck daddy right there!”
“Here sweetheart? You like this?”
“Yesyesyes don’t stop please don’t stop–” and with a cry you were creaming all over Sukuna’s dick. Your pussy clamped down on him so tight, he couldn’t help but look down at the beautiful mess you made all over his thighs. He kept fucking you through your orgasm, causing you to become incredibly overstimulated. Sukuna was getting close, you could tell by his relentless strokes, forgetting any type of consistent pace. His hands were on your hips now, pistoning up into you as your head rested gracefully on his shoulder.
“Mm babydoll gimme a kiss, c’mere.”
When your shaky lips met his, he was sent into overdrive.
“Fuck ‘m gonna cum. Fuck baby, where do you want it.”
Absolutely fucked out, you tried to come up with some sort of cohesive thought. “I-insi..de ‘kuna. In m-me.”
“You sure? Tell me you’re fuckin’ sure, yer milkin’ me baby.”
“I’m s-sure. Please please just cum inside me!”
“Oh, fuckkk…” Sukuna’s load filled your pussy to the brim, leaking out to coat the sides of his dick. He made you feel so full and warm. Finally stopping his thrusts, you hunch over his shoulder and he begins rubbing what feels like hearts on your back, humming into your ear how good you were for him, dick never leaving your pussy.
“Did such a good job princess. So fuckin’ good, are you an angel? Must be an angel, the way you dropped into my life like this.”
“Mmmm I’m your angel ‘kuna. I was made for you only.”
Although the moment was wholesome, your mind immediately flooded with the thought of you leaving in a few weeks.
How were you supposed to leave after this?
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
hope you enjoyed ;) and let me know if i missed anything as far as my content ahead section goes!
tags: @aiyaaayei
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weirdmarioenemies · 5 days
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Name: Zomboni
Debut: Plants vs. Zombies
Plants vs. Zombies is such a silly game. Silly is baked into its very code. And I love that! You know me! I live under rotting wood, eating silly and breaking it down into nutrient-rich soil! But I think Zomboni has the honor of being the silliest thing in this already-silly game!
There is no way Zomboni would exist if it weren't for the wordplay. So thank goodness for the wordplay! A zombie, on a Zamboni. Though, we are informed that it is actually "more closely related to a space ogre than a Zombie". What impeccable word choice! So it's not even actually a space ogre. Just some weird guy creature. Awesome
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Zomboni drives an ice resurfacing machine, and I have no idea what the general public's knowledge level of these things is. Does the average person know the exist? I knew, but I played and hated playing hockey as a child so I got to watch the ice being resurfaced, which was the best part. Some guy who may or may not be tangentially related to space ogres will drive this machine around the ice rink, cutting down the surface and laying down fresh ice to make a nice and smooth surface, I think. Now, I may be using the generic term for this product, but commonly, there is one brand name that is used commonly, like Band-Aid or Q-Tip or Velcro, and for that we can thank...
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Name: Frank J. Zamboni
Debut: Utah
Frank J. Zamboni! Hooray! What do you have to say, Frank?
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Wow. So true, Frank. I'm sure this message is reaching its intended audience in this post. Anyway, ol' Ice Tank Frank made such an iconic machine that it is THE ice resurfacing machine in the public consciousness, and there is even a trademark for its iconic shape! That seems unnecessary but ok. Now, when the ghost of the Zamberino was scrying the mortal realm for references to his work in media, he came across parody in a funny video game, and OBVIOUSLY something had to be done about that!
And from then on, Zomboni's description was updated to reflect that it is NOT to be confused with a Zamboni® brand ice resurfacing machine, you silly billy, why would you think that? And they also plugged the Zamboni website in-game, so that the audience of, I must emphasize, a silly video game, would be more likely to buy an entire ice resurfacing machine, or at least its related merchandise. I really would think this would all be fine under parody law, but maybe it has to do with the shape trademark. Whatever. To the Zamboni company's credit, they have some incredible merchandise.
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What a powerful item. With this, the course of a baby's life can be changed forever...
Zomboni with an O, I mean with two Os, approaches while creating a trail of freshly laid ice that cannot be planted on. The brand-ambiguous ice resurfacing machine is quite tough, but instant-kill plants are effective, as are Spikeweeds and Spikerocks, which will instantly pop its tires!
Zomboni is a considerable threat, instantly flattening any plant it reaches before its destruction, though the player should be pretty well-equipped to combat it, and the ice is laid on the right side of the screen, rather than the precious left side. Pretty manageable! But Zomboni is only the beginning, and as much delight and intrigue as I have gleaned from Zomboni's existence, it's what FOLLOWS Zomboni that is, in fact, my favorite zombie(s) in the game.
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If Zomboni is allowed to create an ice trail, it will be used by Zombie Bobsled Team! Yeah, Frank got a whole "name/debut" section and these guys just get a bolded name in a sentence. You never know what I'm gonna do next! Hee hee!
Zombie Bobsled Team is exactly what it sounds like! A team of zombies, in a bobsled! So that's four zombies, with a defensive vehicle that has to be destroyed before they can be harmed! Zomboni was already over-the-top silly, and then Zombie Bobsled Team goes even higher over that top. And it's a Big Top, where they keep all the clowns. There is not much else I can say about Zombie Bobsled Team, but it really speaks for itself!
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For some reason there exists official art of "Mullet Zombie", the Zomboni driver without his vehicle and hat. And for an even somer reason, they put it on the box art for the DS version! PvZ1 is simply very strange when it comes to official key art. Messed up.
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ecoamerica · 26 days
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youtube
Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared
The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!
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aroaceleovaldez · 3 months
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random question but i came across a post of yours where you talked about how mark oshiro sort of erased an aspect of nico's ADHD by making a joke about how he only liked mythomagic cards because he's gay and there are hot guys on the cards, and then TSATS also seemed to really downplay the themes of neurodivergence in the series. and it made me wonder if you have any thoughts on how the show has portrayed the demigods' ADHD and dyslexia so far? i've seen some people say that the show also downplayed it a lot, and i'm inclined to agree... which feels really weird considering that rick's own son's neurodivergence was specifically a major inspiration for him writing the series. but if i recall correctly a lot of scenes showcasing that in the first book were taken out of the show.
Oh absolutely, a lot of scenes and general discussion about adhd/dyslexia were removed in the show (and some of the disability-coding in general - i appreciate the change they made with making Chiron disabled based on his mythos rather than just using a wheelchair as a disguise, but i wish they had kept Grover's crutches in a similar manner honestly) - I've made a couple of posts discussing it: here, here, and this reblog is relevant to my opinions about the matter. There's probably some other stuff in my pjo tv crit tag.
I think the main sentiment i have regarding it - which i've seen a couple of other people mention as well - is how much the show ignores or outright removes and downplays Percy's personal struggles with his disabilities to instead emphasize Sally's experiences instead, particularly in manners of her taking out her stress on Percy - which alongside being completely antithetical to Sally's role in the books, is pretty ableist and why I continually compare show!Sally to Autism Speaks Parents. Autism Speaks tends to make an emphasis on the struggles of the parents of autistic children rather than treating autistic individuals like a person experiencing their own struggles. One of the major points of Sally's character (and later Paul) in the books is that she's an incredibly accommodating parent and works hard to make sure Percy is supported when he's struggling with his disabilities, because he's not been able to find that accommodation elsewhere. That's part of why Sally is such a great mom in particular, and is intentionally supposed to directly contrast Annabeth's home life struggles with her parents having difficulty navigating how to provide that same level of accommodation to help support her (and how Annabeth finds that accommodation at CHB instead, because that's the metaphor that CHB is supposed to represent - an appropriately accommodating system they can rely on, and then exploring how that's still a flawed system and looking at how disabled kids/demigods fall through the cracks and how to change the system to better support them).
The show also almost completely ignores Percy's ADHD/dyslexia experiences in general after the first episode. I was honestly really happy with, in the first episode, how clearly Percy's poor experiences in the American education system, particularly relating to his neurodivergence, have informed his reaction to situations such as people trying to tell him he's a demigod in coded language. It was essentially the perfect update to something i've discussed in the past here, about how the original "all demigods have adhd/dyslexia because it's secretly SUPERPOWERS" thing was presented as the basis for the series and why that teaching/parenting style fell out of favor. We see Percy in e1 acknowledge how dismissive of his struggles it is to constantly just be told he's "special" - and we even get explicit acknowledgement of how that description is used aggressively and for ostracization (from Nancy), which is extremely true to the experiences of kids who grew up with that teaching/parenting structure. But then we get to episode 2 and... all the acknowledgement of ADHD/dyslexia/etc is gone. We get at most a one-off acknowledgement from Luke that demigods are all neurodivergent and that's it. Pretty much nothing else for the entire rest of the season, save for flashback scenes that only emphasize Sally's experiences, not acknowledge Percy's. No further acknowledgement of Percy's dyslexia, or Annabeth's, or anything about their ADHD, or even Percy's completely removed PTSD (which we know for sure because of both writer commentary [see: that second post i linked about the LA Times article] and Percy's total lack of reaction to Mr. D). Nothing.
It was extremely disheartening to say the least, having such a strong start and it evaporating completely, and I fully agree with you.
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tsams-and-co-memes · 29 days
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TSAMS Moondrop Canon Info
Updated - 4/23/24
Moon's likes:
Dogs
Anime
Pokémon
Webcomics
Imagine Dragons
Quietness
Spending time with his family
Magic
Technology
Coding
Six The Musical
My Little Pony
Palworld
Hot water
Minesweeper
Wolves
Moon's dislikes:
Kids
Witnessing any amount of affection between people or being subjected to it, even in a familial way (he always acts grossed out by it, but maybe he’s just messing around, I’m not sure)
Star Wars
Back to the Future
Eclipse
The creator
Bloodmoon
Miscellaneous:
Moon is aroace
If he could have a pet, it’d be a fruit bat
He takes a lot of inspiration from Rick Sanchez (from Rick and Morty)
He’s not good with directions
He can drive, he just hates doing so
He does not have a driver's license
Moon takes care of himself by taking a metal buffing drill and rubbing it across his face. He has a machine that cleans the rest of him
He tends to have a lot of sleepless nights, trying to relearn everything he knew from before he was reset, contemplating his mortality, how he could be reset, and wind up “dying” again
He’s been kidnapped by an evil version of Sun, who he described as being similar to “evil Morty”
New Moon (after being reset), doesn’t know how he identifies. At the very least he’s ace, but he’s not sure about if he’s romantically attracted to people or not
Moon is a fan of Rick and Morty, and he thinks Rick is the smartest person in the universe
He gets angry whenever anyone says the earth is flat
Moon talks to the Devil from the Bible quite a bit and they get along
When having conversations, Moon prefers it when people are blunt and direct with him
When confronted with problems, he tends to either shrug it off or get angry
Part of his anger towards the situation with Eclipse being back stems from feeling inadequate. He thought he took care of an issue created by his past self, only to find out that the issue (Eclipse) was back, once again threatening his life and Sun's
There was a kid at the daycare once that wasn't scared of Moon. The two talked back and forth, and upon hearing that the kid's home life wasn't great, Moon decided to sneak out of the pizzaplex. He followed the kid home, saw what his home life was like, and he took matters into his own hands, wanting to help the kid. The kid didn't survive whatever Moon did, and Moon (before being reset) carried a lot of regret with him over that incident
Moon recently bought a Chili's from Monty (implied, since Moon recently bought it and Monty said that they recently sold it)
Moon turned his and Sun's garage into his "experimentation area"
Moon makes and sells technology to the government, but he doesn't specify which government that is
Old Moon once ate someone (during the episode where he and Sun fought, and he wound up punching Sun)
New Moon knows the cure for cancer
Moon frequents a cannibal sushi shop in Japan where the employees all come to work in cosplay. The chef there is a furry/scalie
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ravenstargames · 2 months
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✦ Lost in Limbo Devlog #9 | 02.29.24
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What is this?! Two devlogs in one month?! More likely than you think! This February has been very productive for me and the team, so let's dive right into it!
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Ooooh boy, Raquel keeps knocking it out of the park! She managed to get done every expression for every LI, and I coded them all! Now we have our wonderful characters ready for their debut. We have been using the wonderful Image Tools for Ren'py made by the talented and hard-working Feniks, whose tutorials and resources save a lot of dev's lives every day! This tool has made everything a bit easier for newbies like me, hehe.
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Here's a taste of our edgelord's expressions! 💜 They're kind of a cutie when they put some effort into it!
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We also had our second valentine's day celebration art piece thanks to Kayden! Sadly with the reworked version of the demo, you won't meet Vycar yet, so we thought we could ask for his forgiveness by giving him a beautiful bouquet and reminding him how much of a sweetheart he is! 💜
Also, Raeya got a hair update!
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So, we weren't completely satisfied with the way we portrayed Raeya's hair, so this has been a rework we were sure we wanted to make. At first we were just going to render it again, but we ended up working on it from scratch to better represent what we envisioned for her. We hope you like it as much as we do! ; v ;💜
As always, we are open to any critique or advice; we are white people who have the luck to be able to ask POC friends for their advice as we work, but the more the merrier! Don't hesitate to send us your opinion to our ask box or even our email, [email protected]!
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When it comes to the background department, we have been making great progress thanks to Airyn, who is honestly leaving us with our mouths hanging open every time! Thanks to her, another background has been finished and another one is in the making, leaving only two backgrounds to be revised and approved!
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I personally can't stop looking at this WIP! She understood perfectly what we wanted to portray just by looking at an old WIP we had, and this is what we have so far—and it's already amazing!
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Allie has been OBLITERATING the script. As of today, I think we have almost gone through everything that needed to be corrected and discussing, and lord if the script doesn't look a 100% better after we put it in Allie's hands. The way she writes, the way she understands everything I want to say even when sometimes I don't even know myself—what a talented, inspiring and amazing writer they are. I know I may sound annoying at this point singing her praises endlessly, but if the script is in the state where it is now, it's thanks to her!
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My programming adventure of the month has been a success, if I say so myself! I've coded the characters with aaaaall their layers, their expressions, the blinking animations, made some videos, and started coding the script. Step by step as they say; I've coded 18 pages, and there's, uh...142 more to go. Haha! *sobs*
BUT WE ARE GETTING THERE! We can see the light at the end of the tunnel! I can finally click 'new game' and read the script and see the stuff going on! YAY!
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Some extras of the month—we are preparing a Casting Call to choose the voice acting talent that will hopefully give voice to our characters. The demo won't be fully voiced (it's impossible with the funds we have, which are...zero), but if we are lucky we'll use some of our personal savings to pay for at least a few lines for each character so you can get an idea of how they'll sound if we get funded! Raquel is preparing an art piece for the announcement, and I'm getting the document ready and asking fellow VA friends for advice :3.
Also, we have a new member here at Ravenstar Games! Some weeks ago Astro and I formally adopted our first kitty, 8 month old Riki, fulfilling one of our dreams. We got him from a feline association that works with volunteers and fosters cats who have been abandoned, cats they find on the street, and so on. Riki has been living with me since January, and he's a happy, long big boy who loves playing, cuddles, and sitting on my desk while I try to work!
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Say hi to the Ravenstar family, Riki! 💜
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A productive month full of accomplished milestones, excitement and new challenges! The team has worked so hard, and I've done my part too! We still don't want to get ahead of ourselves, but we have done a lot of stuff we were sure we wouldn't finish yet, and look at that! We are doing so well!
As you can probably tell, my batteries are starting to run low, so I'm going to leave this devlog here. Thank you all like always for cheering us on, for being here in this journey with us, and for all the love you send our way. Let's hope March is as amazing as February has been, for us and for all of you! 💜
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lost-technology · 21 days
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SEEDS Security Codes and Why They Matter
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So, I've been thinking about one of the details in Trigun: Stampede that was not present in either '98 or the manga. In '98, Knives just hacking into the SEEDS codes was left as-is. He walked up to Captain Joey and shot him and apparently took his pilot's seat. Did the Captain have the navigation open at the time? Was it closed and Knives had to do some hacking? Anyway, there, he did it on his own. Now, in Trigun Maximum, which treats Vash and Knives' childhood differently (just Rem there raising them), there is a foreshadowing of what is to come. In Volume 6, Rem is depicted waking up to an emergency signal in the middle of her sleeping-hours. (Aw, she sleeps in her regular clothes, mom-jeans and all...). Panicked, she yells at Knives for him and Vash to lock themselves in their rooms and not to come out or speak up for ANY reason, even if they hear voices outside. She tries to handle the situation, but it goes from bad to worse and the automatic crew-wakening protocol goes into effect, which she is very concerned about (for reasons that we who have read the manga know about)!
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In the beginning of Volume 7 the crew wakes up, there's a situation-update. The ships are going off-course and will collide if things are not corrected. They're working through the issues and suddenly, there's an unknown factor that kicks in to correct the course. Rem then gets the crew all settled back in again for nappy-time... And proceeds immediately to Vash and Knives, where she scolds Knives with (Rem's angry mom-face, my beloved)! Knives was playing around with the ship codes and systems. He'd apparently hacked his way into the system and was curious about SEEDS' functions. (One would assume that Rem changed some of the codes after this, but I bet they were in some kind of hacking-war, with her trying to stay one step above curious Plant-twins). Knives did not mean to nearly cause a catastrophe, but this shows that he can and is a foreshadowing to when he DOES mean to cause one later. Now, in Trigun Stampede, it is stated by Nai / Knives that Vash gave him the ship-codes, also that he spent a lot of time and trouble changing the codes for every human ship. (The manga lists the ship they are born on as the Mothership, presumably guiding the entire fleet, in Stampede, it is just Ship 5, which implies multiple guides with multiple navigators). I am wondering where Studio Orange is going with this. Will it be a situation like the manga where the kids are just playing around? Little prank-war with Rem? Maybe Vash is sharing a ship code innocently, as part of their games? Or is it going to be darker, more sinister? I wonder if Vash was originally of the thought of "maybe we need to crash the ships and kill all humans (except Rem) because they're scary and dangerous because of what happened to Tesla" and then had a change of heart and backed out of it? - I can see that happening... him having his cathartic alone-time with Rem as in the manga and then talking things out with Nai and thinking that they weren't going to go through with it. And then Nai betrays him. I've been wondering about the guilt Vash carries over the Big Fall in Stampede. Is it an unnecessary, undue guilt like he seems to have about a lot of things? Or is there a guilt born from "I had originally planned disaster / we had originally planned disaster" and it came true even after he'd backed out? It's just that... in both '98 and Maximum, he does carry his cross (that is not Wolfwood's), but he seems to feel less specifically guilty over this (the Big Fall). He's really more like "Knives, how could you do this to everyone / Rem?!" He just seems more guilt-ridden in Stampede than in the other media and I am wondering if there is a dark secret behind it. I can see it going either way.
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