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#but then again this isn't meant to be instructive
bernthalized · 2 years
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Not sure about Sharp Stick despite the Jon eyecandy but am I the inly one sick of Hollywood pairing young women with guys almost twice their age??! Christine F is 26 an looks like 12 while Jon is 45!? I love him but this needs to stop
I don't want ppl to reblog my... idk what to call it so pls read tags (at your own risk skskksjsjk)
#yeah yeah that's kinda boring to see again cuz I thought we left it behind (like in the 90s? 00s?)#the age gap isn't even the main problem#I have no problems with it as long as we're talking about ADULTS#like we're literally here in our 20s pairing ourselves with jon's 35+ characters right?#I know many of us are older but I'm in my 20s soooo#but her behavior and her look hmmmmm... idek 🤔#I can't say anything about the movie since I haven't seen it but uhm maybe sometimes movies aren't instructions?#and main characters aren't heroes or icons?#sometimes movies/shows/books/etc exist to show people's mistakes?#being wrong bad stupid etc?#I think that maybe they wanna show the futility of such relationships? I hope so?#cuz I don't see them celebrating romanticizing or advocating it#judging by the trailer it's shown as an unhealthy relationship#looks like creators just say like 'look at these pathetic stupid people lol'#lol or not lol? that is the question#(also I see ppl calling her homewrecker and being angry only at HER#but uhm hello he's a grown ass man he makes his own decisions#yeah she's wrong and stupid but you can't just steal a husband like idk like he's a fucking wallet or a bike come on??)#have you seen the movie anon? cuz I haven't#and I'm not sure what they were trying to say what they meant by that#(am I making sense? idk idk)#sorry for the late reply and for your high hopes for my reasonable answer lmao#too tired to really think about it rn#anyways#can we blame jon for being in this movie if he probably just wanted to wh0re a bit?#ask:bernthalized
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tobiasdrake · 1 month
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*deep breath* Okay. Here we go.
I don't think the Netflix Avatar show likes women very much. It's a great show for fans of Aang, Sokka, Zuko, and Iroh specifically. All four of those characters get a ton of great material. In fact, it's super great for Sokka stans, because the show takes him ultra-seriously and can't go five minutes without one character or another (usually a woman) praising him.
But the way it handles its female cast is troublesome.
Katara
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So, all three of the main trio got some changes made to their stories. They changed Aang's story so that he wasn't running away from his responsibilities; He was just clearing his head and somehow accidentallied himself into a tsunami. Whoopsy-dooodle. Aang did nothing wrong.
They changed Sokka's story so that him being a leader of his people and a great guardian warrior is treated with complete seriousness. Multiple times, characters stop to talk about how brave and noble Sokka is for taking on such an intense responsibility, and tell him to his face what a great warrior and a wonderful leader he is. Also his misogyny is erased.
And they changed Katara's story so that she directly got her mom killed because she sucks at waterbending.
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Katara tries to waterbend to attack the Fire Nation soldier but couldn't manage it, provoking the soldier to start actively searching for her and forcing her mom to fake a waterbending attack and draw his fire. They changed Katara's story so that her bad decision making fucking got her mom killed.
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This is treated with the same level of severity as "Sokka was bullied by mean kids and also his dad doesn't think he's good enough to be a leader."
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"I hoped Sokka would do better but not everyone is meant to have people's lives in their hands," Sokka's dad says of him.
Yeah, you're right, that's totally comparable to watching your mom get barbecued because you tried to waterbend in a situation you shouldn't have and then failed.
In fact, they give Sokka's greatest trauma more weight because it gets examined again with Yue next episode, while Katara actively getting her mom killed isn't brought up again at all. We get traumatized glimpses of it throughout the season leading up to the reveal, but after this scene in episode 5, it never comes up again.
But to be fair, Katara was a child. An event this significant would surely have motivated her, driving her to become the great waterbender she is now, right?
No! Katara sucks at waterbending and needs men who aren't even waterbenders to teach her how to waterbend. She requires instruction from Aang in episode 1 to learn how to waterbend, then from Jet in episode 3 to learn how to waterbend better.
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And unlike the show, her relationship with Aang isn't a give-and-take; Katara doesn't teach Aang a single goddamn thing. He never learns to waterbend. She is a strictly a pupil throughout the whole season. Though she at least gets officially labeled a master in episode 8, so there's that.
In any case, the whole traumatic memory thing isn't even the only time she's directly compared with Sokka. Episodes 3 and 4 see Katara and Sokka bicker over whose morally dubious side character is better. Sokka likes the Mechanist and Katara likes Jet.
Ultimately, Katara is forced to eat crow when Jet turns out to be the worst, while Sokka is vindicated when the Mechanist sees the error of his ways and reforms. But not before two separate arguments where Sokka calls Katara childish and accuses her of acting like a little girl.
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Arguments ultimately resolved when Katara apologizes to Sokka for not adequately respecting his very serious and ultra important role as village protector and leader. Gives him a whole speech about how great and glorious he is. And Sokka... appreciates Katara learning to respect him properly, I guess, because he never offers any similar sentiments back to her.
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The show just... They need you to know how important Sokka is, okay? It's very important that you respect Sokka.
Suki
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Suki suffers tremendously from that whole "Sokka's misogyny was removed" thing. Y'know, because they need something else to do with that episode. The show is deeply aware that Suki is Sokka's love interest, so they just do that right off the bat. Suki falls madly in love with him from the moment they meet, and spends the entire episode making goo-goo eyes and trying to get him to Notice Me Senpai.
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They still do the "Suki Trains Sokka" stuff. But Sokka is a serious, dignified manly man worthy of the deepest respect now, so of course they don't make him wear the Kyoshi uniform. Instead, the main purpose of his training is to allow them to flirt some more. It's less martial arts training and more an excuse to grope each other and near-kiss.
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Suki's just a waifu now. She still fights real good, but all of the stuff that made her relationship with Sokka interesting has been erased.
Yue
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Yue, similarly, leaps straight to shipping from the word go. They write out her fiance, Hahn, by having Yue briefly meet Sokka earlier in the season. She spends one minute talking to him in the Spirit World about Spirit World lore; In that time, she falls so desperately, madly, unfathomably in love with him that she breaks off her marriage to Hahn and devotes herself to waiting for him to one day come to her.
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"Never have I known such joys as that time you let me explain the spirit bear Hei Bei to you. Truly, we are destined to be together for life."
Like with Suki, they go out of their way to have Yue and Sokka already be a ship from the word 'go' so they don't have to spend time developing any kind of meaningful attraction.
They just. They really want you to know that Sokka is the manliest and most desirable man ever to walk this earth. It is very important that you understand how great he is. Women hurl themselves into his arms with zero effort whatsoever, because he's just so goddamn irresistible.
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Fortunately, Hahn is super okay with this turn of events. He's the most chill guy ever, he gets along perfectly well with Sokka, and he completely supports Yue's right to dump him! In the famously misogynistic Northern Water Tribe, no less! What a swell guy. Aren't men swell?
June
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June gets hit with that "rewritten as hollow waifu" stick too, but her eyes are set on Iroh. They rewrote June to be super attracted and flirty towards the man who was her unwanted sexual harasser in the source material. So that's fun.
Also, she barely does anything. Zuko hires her to find Aang, she succeeds, and then she fucks right off out of the show - But she manages to find time to express how unbelievably sexy Iroh is twice during that time.
She seriously just dropped into the show to flirt with Iroh and leave. She is unbelievably inconsequential.
Kyoshi
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And then there's Kyoshi. They really want you to hate Kyoshi. She's constantly shot from below, as if looking down on Aang and the audience. Her voice takes on a demonic echoing reverb at one point as she's screaming at Aang that "THE AVATAR MUST BE A MERCILESS WARRIOR!!!"
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She despises Aang, calling him a coward for running away from his responsibilities - Which, I remind you, is no longer a plot point because they unwrote that flaw from his character. So she's just a complete and utter asshole, shot from the asshole angle, yelling violently at him with asshole sound effects. They want you to despise this woman.
Azula
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Awkwardly, they do not seem to want you to despise Azula.
There's a lot to be said for how Ozai treats Azula in the original show. The way the favoritism he shows her is every bit as cruel and manipulative as the unfavoritism that he shows Zuko. Ozai does not love Azula. He loves the reflection of himself he sees in her eyes, and his encouragement urges her to polish herself to ensure his reflection always shines through.
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This is not that. The show instead erases the favoritism entirely. Ozai doesn't really care one way or another about either of his kids. He plays them against each other, bragging openly to Azula about how great Zuko is and unpleasably writing Azula off as weak and useless.
They've rewritten the dynamic between abusive father and his two abused kids in order to take Azula's pride away. Reimagining her from a gifted prodigy who excels at imitating the toxic behaviors of a father who doesn't truly care for her, to a put-upon overachiever tearing herself in knots to live up to the standards of her unpleasable father.
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This results in a truly wild portrayal of Azula as insecure and jealous of Ozai's seemingly love for Zuko. Here, she is simply a browbeaten child constantly complaining to her friends about how mean her father is and conspiring to get one up over Daddy's Golden Child Zuko.
Which she fails at, because she backs Zhao. Zuko deftly defeats her without even realizing they're in competition.
Conclusion
The season ends well for some of these women. It ends promising that maybe we'll see Katara teaching Aang some day. It ends with Zhao bragging that Ozai just used Zuko to train Azula so maybe we'll see the more confident and misguidedly proud Azula some day. Yue becomes the moon like she's supposed to. June's still out there so maybe she'll get to do something again some day.
Katara gets to fight Pakku and lose, but she looks pretty cool. She gets to fight Zuko and lose, but she looks pretty cool. Azula learns to lightningbend because she's just so mad about Ozai's contempt for her and favoritism for Zuko, which isn't how you lightningbend.
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But promises of future content fall flat when the content that exists is so underwhelming. This season made its feelings on these characters pretty evident, and it's unwise to expect better material from creators who've disappointed you with the material they already made.
The women of Netflix Avatar simply do not get to shine, outside of superficial moments like the "Women of Northern Water Tribe demand the right to fight and then fuck off and don't do anything for the entire rest of the episode" bit.
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"In the midst of battle, we demand that you stop being sexist and give us permission to fight! This is a way better idea than convincing you to teach us to fight before the battle begins."
The characters of this show feel as if they've been reimagined to glorify the boys at the expense of the girls. The boys are treated with a great amount of care. They're dignified and made important movers of the plot, with their rough edges sanded off. While the girls are molded around them.
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bunnyhugs77 · 3 months
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Daddy Daycare
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Pairing: Technician! Jungkook x Teacher's Assistant! Reader
Word Count: 6.7k
Part: 1, 2, 3
Series Content: daycare au, suggestive themes, love at first sight? dilf jk, mentions of antidepressants, mint jk and blonde jk, jk cant sleep, sexual themes, he's so whipped, toxic ex, minor baby mama drama, gold diggers, mentions of death, complicated family history, cute kid cameos, reader can't drive, jk is good with his hands, mentions of abusive relationships, so much fluff.
Other Series Content: soft dom! jk, muscle kink, pussy puts his ass to sleep, unprotected sex (just don't), oral sex (f! and m! receiving), brief choking, minor breeding kink, hickeys, brief dom! reader, reader makes him wait, intimate cuddling, praise.
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"And the kiss. Oh, Vanessa, the kiss was something else!" You exclaim, helping to set up the Christmas decorations around the class.
It was only the day after Thanksgiving which means the Christmas season was now in full swing. Stepping up on the small stepping stool to hang the green tinsel over the whiteboard.
"It sounds like you had a good night. What's the problem then?" Vanessa sets up the miniature Christmas tree in the corner.
"I did. Everything was going so well. Dare I say perfectly, until his phone was going off non stop from someone named Hanna saying things like 'when am I gonna see you again' and 'I can't stop thinking about our night together'"
Vanessa gasps. "So what did Jungkook say?" You chew on our bottom lip, "He was putting Ryan to bed in the other room, so he wasn't there when I saw those messages pop up." She tsks.
"I tried to tell you. Nothing good comes from dealing with a parent." You sighed heavily, looking out the window at the playground that was covered in a thick white blanket of snow.
"I know, but I couldn't help it. Him and his stupid smile and his pretty eyes." Vanessa hums smugly. "I'm sure Hanna thinks the same thing." You groan. She's right.
"You're right, I shouldn't get involved. She could be the mother of his child for all I know."
"For your own sake. You better pray she's not. Ex's are a royal pain in the-"
"Good Morning." Vanessa interrupts her own words as she greets the parents that walked in.
Crouching near the bookshelf while you organized the fallen books, from the corner of your eye you were able to pick up on the entrance of your minor headache. Not Ryan, of course, his father.
Ryan was just a sweetheart who greeted you with a hug so tight that he'd knocked you out of your crouched position onto your bum. "Ryan! Be careful." You'd never heard Jungkook's voice so stern. You make sure the boy is okay and help him back to his feet before moving your hair back to where it should be.
"Sorry, Ms. Hill." He apologizes with those big brown eyes that he clearly gets from his dad. "It's okay, I'm fine." You reassure with a smile and he runs off.
Jungkook offers you his hand to help you up but you stand on your own, dusting off your jeans with a clearing of your throat. "Are you okay?" He asks.
"Yeah, I'm okay. I promise. I landed on the carpet."
"That's not what I meant." He says.
Taking a quick glance around the classroom, noticing some parents still making their way in and out of the classroom and the kids making their way to their seats. "You know, now really isn't a good time-" About to move out of his way, he steps in front of you.
Instinctively your eyes rolled, trying to remember what Vanessa told you. Not to get involved. "I know you saw the texts. Let me explain." You shake your head, "It's none of my business, there's nothing to explain. You should get going. I wouldn't want you to be late for work."
With that said, you walk away, heading towards the desks where your students waited patiently for instruction.
Jungkook walked out of the daycare that day deflated and unable to think about anything aside from you, and that look in your eyes. Like you were disappointed, as if you had high hopes for him and he let you down.
He thought he could just move past it, maybe even accept that things wouldn't work out between the two of you, but seeing you everyday, smiling with all the other parents and giving him nothing more than a simple head acknowledgement was killing him.
As much as he wanted to explain himself, he didn't want to force himself into your life. He wanted you to want to hear him out, even if that meant the two of you not talking much or at all for a few weeks then he was going to have to be okay with that.
But there were some days he had to physically restrain himself from breaking the no-contact. He remembers the day vividly. It was the first week back from winter break, maybe he was so pent up because he hadn't been able to see you for two weeks or if it was how good you looked in your leggings.
All he knows is that somewhere between that mix and you squatting to pick something from off the ground, for the briefest of seconds he'd caught sight of the strappy black thong that rose over your hips before they were hidden once again under your bottoms.
No one would've noticed it. No one that wasn't mildly obsessed with you that is. He quickly sent Ryan off and left for work. Managing to somehow squeeze in 13 hours of work into an 8 hour shift, he'd overcompensated as a means to distract himself.
"So you guys just haven't talked since you shooed him?" Vanessa asks for clarification, wrapping her scarf securely around her neck, getting ready to head out after offering you a ride which you couldn't object to, weather conditions were worsening as you were entering the heart of winter in the middle of January.
"I didn't shoo him, but I definitely would've handled things differently if I knew he would start avoiding me. I didn't want things to end like this." You explain, digging your hands deep into your pockets the moment the two of you stepped outside. The chilling air blew in your hair and around your earmuffs with determination.
You strapped yourself in passenger seat, "So you didn't actually want things to end?" With your head laying back on the headrest you puffed out a stressed breath, unintentionally making a small circle of condensation on your window. Like a child you drew a little heart in the middle.
"I thought I did, y'know? Wanted to do what you said and stay away, but maybe I got hasty." She hums oddly, making a ominous "Mhm" sound. "What does that mean?" She pulls out of the parking lot slowly, the snow was really falling tonight, laying on the ground in thick increments.
"Nothing." Turning to face her with your body, "No, no. Say it."
"I've been here. You know I've been here, I've been in a very similar position, but I did somehow manage to get a decent outcome, but things could've gotten much worse, not just for the relationship but for his kid at the time. So, I guess what I'm saying is, take this little break to really think about if this is the kind of thing you want to get yourself involved in."
You nodded, sitting with your hands in your lap like an obedient child. Really taking what Vanessa was saying into deep consideration. Deciding to reflect on it for the rest of the car ride to your building.
"What a day." You sigh, as you drop your keys onto the small counter you kept near the door.
The first thing you noticed was how cold it was inside your apartment, as if trying to compete with the flurrying outdoors. "Why is it so cold in here?" You whisper to yourself.
Flicking on the lights, or at least that's what you wanted. "What the--" the switch flies up then down then up again with the tip of your finger as you restlessly try to turn the lights on. "You've got to be joking."
Wrapping yourself tighter into your jacket as you walk through your dark apartment, relying on the sheer memorization of the layout to get you to the bathroom where you tried turning on the tap. Nothing.
The pipes must've frozen. and the snowstorm blew out your power.
This was great news for you, you'd always loved the movie Frozen and now you get to experience it first hand!!
"You've reached the voicemail box of--"
"Fuck you!" You shout at your phone after 5 hours and the twelfth attempt you'd made at calling your landlord. He's always been an asshole but ignoring his tenants when they were freezing to death is an all new low even for him.
You'd managed to wrap yourself in a blanket burrito surrounded by the 4 candles you were able to light before your hands began to freeze. Your body was barely managing to keep warm until you remembered the small cheap space heater you'd bought from a thrift store a few years back.
But it was buried deep in your closet. However, it took you no time to find it as you dug through the mountains of miscellaneous objects and finally pulled it out from the bottom.
Rushing to plug it in with desperation. Then you remembered. There was no power. As badly as you wanted to scream and toss the heater across your dimly lit room, you didn't. Instead you sat quietly in your burrito and began to cry.
What if this was it?
Tomorrow your students would find out their teacher had frozen to death. Were you being dramatic? You weren't even sure. You're not even sure how they would react, but you're sure the parents would be shocked- and Jungkook.
Jungkook.
"Jungkook!" You gasp. Your freezing hands reaching for your phone, trying to type in his number as fast as you could but your joints felt like they were dead locked in place and moved 1 key per minute.
The phone began to ring, and ring,,,
On the other end of the line, Jungkook was also having a pretty rough night. Laying on his bed with his bare stomach facing the ceiling eyes wide open and his brain a never ending circus.
He tried to focus on his breathing, but he couldn't sleep.
He hasn't been able to get a good sleep for a few months now.
Turning on his side he looked at the picture of him and Ryan at his third birthday party. He was so much smaller then. 'I looked so happy' he thinks to himself with a sad smile on his face.
Beginning to wish that Ryan was with him in that moment but he knew it was for the best that he'd dropped him at his parents' for the weekend. He was beginning to enter one of those episodes and he couldn't stop it, no matter how badly he wanted to, no matter how hard he tries to.
Ryan deserved a father who could be happy all the time-- He sits up. Holding his head in his hands, taking deep breaths. Erasing those thoughts- trying to. Slowly letting his vision roam back to his night stand drawer where he kept his pills.
God, was it always going to be like this?
Lifelessly he reached for the handle and pulled it open, his hands blindly reaching for the cylindrical bottle and unscrewing the cap taking the recommended dose before putting it away.
He lays back down with a soft grunt, staring up at the ceiling tumultuously. Resting his hands on his firm core, focusing on the way it rises and falls with every breath, thinking about the day it stops. The day he's no longer sentenced to the time he's currently serving in his own mind-
"I should try to get some sleep" He mumbles to no one in particular.
His eyes shoot open after a mere 3 seconds of being closed. He listens to it ring, ring and ring, not sure he's in the mood to be taking any calls right now.
Though, it may be his parents with an emergency. He finds himself rolling onto his stomach, more than shocked to see your name pop up on his phone.
"Hello?"
"H-Hi! It's me. I'm sorry if I woke you up," Your voice was refreshing, like the first ray of sunshine after a dark and stormy night or the smell of fresh coffee in the morning.
"No, you didn't wake me. What's up?" You weren't sure if you were looking too deep into things but he sounded different. His voice was flatter, none of that familiar bubbly hint to be found in it, then again, It was nearly one in the morning.
"You probably don't remember but you gave me your card, and said if I ever had any technical issues I could give you a call," your teeth were chattering, prompting you to wrap yourself even tighter.
"I remember." How could he forget.
"Yea! Well, my apartment has no power or running water, so its pretty cold over here, and I was wondering if you had any tips or tricks on how to get something to work."
He sits up abruptly. "What?"
"Yeah, my landlord is pretty shitty and hasn't answered my calls, I'm not even sure if maintenance is available or even knows about the situation themselves." You hear some muffling on the other end assuming he'd dropped his phone but it was actually Jungkook rushing to put on a shirt.
"Hello?" you say blankly, wondering if you'd lost connection.
"It's a fucking snowstorm outside. You'll freeze." You laugh, and that stops him in his tracks for a moment, "Oh I know, I'm getting a little taste of that right now actually. Do you by any chance know what the first signs of frostbite are?"
"Send me your address, I'm coming to get you."
"No, Jungkook. I wont let you do that, the roads are terrible." He doesn't respond, or maybe he does, you couldn't hear over the sound of keys jingling.
Clearly it was useless trying to change his mind, and the last thing you'd want is for him to go out of his way for nothing so you sent him your address.
What would usually be 15 minute drive had turned into 40 with the poor weather conditions but it wasn't any more than an hour before you heard knocking on your door.
Still wrapped in your thick blankets you opened it.
"Are you alright? How do you feel?" Jungkook inspects you, taking your hands in his, "You're ice cold." He says, reaching into his jacket pocket and placing his hand warmers in yours. "Keep those, they'll help you warm up." He insists.
"Do you have everything?" You nod while briefly raising your overnight bag. "Okay, let's go."
The drive over was silent, you somehow managed to fit your seatbelt over your jacket and blanket that you couldn't part with. Jungkook periodically looked over to se if you were okay, never actually saying anything but the concern in his eyes was evident with every glance.
The first step inside his place gave you chills, the good kind, finally. Not the ones that left you shaking for warmth. It was so warm, Jungkook took your bag while walking you towards the living room as he turned on the fireplace, suggesting you warm up before doing anything else.
"Here," He hands you a warm mug of hot chamomile with a bit of honey for sweetness. "Thank you, Jungkook. For everything." You say sincerely, afraid you'd be repaying him for all the times he'd saved your ass in this life and the next.
"Don't mention it." Unwilling to accept such a humble response, "No. I'm serious. I disturbed your night, and you dropped everything to help me." He smiles for the first time all night, it was a small one but it was still a smile.
"I told you, already. I wasn't doing anything. I'm actually glad you called, it was nice to get out of my head for a bit." your head tilts unconsciously at that last part. "Nevermind." Checking his watch, it was nearly three in the morning.
"I set up your stuff in my room. It's getting pretty late, you should get some rest." Your eyes were feeling pretty heavy now that he mentioned it, you didn't fight it. Slowly standing from the pile of throw overs you'd buried yourself underneath making your way upstairs.
"Wait." You pause at the first step.
"Where's Ryan?" You should've realized sooner, but what could you say, you were a bit wrapped up earlier. Literally. "He's at his grandparents, probably snoring right now as we speak." You smile.
You'd gotten ready, taking a much needed shower and tying your hair back into two braids so that they would have some soft waves for tomorrow.
You sat cross legged on Jungkook's bed with your MacBook on your lap as you went through some of the classroom picture's you were yet to send to parents from the Winter Wonderland Concert the daycare had put on last week.
"Hey," Your head snaps up to see Jungkook peeking his head through the door, "I just wanted to say Goodnight." He says and you smile, but you'd just come across something you're sure he would love to see.
"Come look at this video of Ryan singing his interpretation of the opera singer we had perform last week." Jungkook sits beside you on the bed with his legs stretched out in front of him.
He paused when he turned to look at you, "What?" Your face is puzzled at his concentrated expression. "I didn't know you wore glasses?" He says and it reminds you that this was the first time he'd seen you with lenses on, or anyone for that matter.
"Yeah, I usually wear contacts-- Look! This is the part," You get distracted as the video begins to play. And somehow one video turns into five and the computer slides off your lap into the gap between the both of you as your head laid against his padded shoulder.
You'd fallen asleep. Slowly Jungkook closes the laptop and places it on the nightstand, even more carefully removing your glasses and placing them on top of the stowed away device.
Letting you down gently until your head hits the pillow, he sneakily begins to slip out of your grasp. "Stay." You say, your eyes closed and body still. Maybe he was hearing things. He shakes it off and begins to step away.
"Please, m'Cold." You mumble into the pillow with your eyes still shut.
"Do you want me to turn up the heat?" He offers like the gentleman he is, for the first time he saw a sign of consciousness as you slightly shake your head. "I want you to stay, please?"
He was nervous. Settling himself under the convers with you, remaining as far as possible and turning off the bedside lamp. Within two minutes his body froze as you'd rolled over from your side until your head was on his chest.
He wonders if you could feel the way his heart was racing.
you could.
"Relax," you quip, half-awake. Oddly enough, that actually does help him to relax, his arm instinctively wrapping around your waist for comfort. Feeling your body against his didn't trigger his perversions as he once thought it would.
It felt so much better than that. He felt, comfortable. The way your body radiated a calming heat onto him and reassured him that someone was both physically and emotionally present was just enough to lull him to sleep.
As the night morphed into a radiant sunrise you began to stir in your sleep. Your limbs stretching across the the grey sheets and soft blankets while the tips of your fingers roamed the surface.
Slowly remembering where you were and realizing you were in the bed alone. Though you specifically remember going to sleep with him. When did he get up?
Tugging down the leg of your sweatpants that had rolled up at the ankle at some point during your blissful sleep. Rubbing your eyes as you stepped into the bathroom to brush your teeth before finally following that pleasant scent that was wafting around the house.
"Still avoiding me?" You joke as you laid your eyes on Jungkook's broad back that was facing you as he flipped pancakes. He turns to you with a lopsided smile.
"Avoiding you?" Nodding, letting your hands trace the back of the chair before taking a seat at the island, watching him.
"Yeah, you've been avoiding me since thanksgiving." His brows furrow then raise in a mix of confusion and astonishment. "Me? I have not been avoiding you. I was giving you space."
Bracing your hands down on the countertop you shake your head. "Yes you have. Every day you see me and just leave, not a good morning or anything."
Jungkook flips this battered treat a little harder than he should. "Yeah, because the last time I had tried to talk to you, you made it pretty clear you didn't want to talk, so why would I force it?"
You sigh. Vanessa was right, maybe you did shoo him. "I didn't mean to disregard you so inconsiderately, I was just-- I don't know what I was feeling in that moment, honestly." He turns to face you once again, leaning back on the counter.
"I know, that's why I wanted to explain myself." Your eyes watch his buff chest raise and fall as he takes a deep breath, "My eyes are up here." He points between the two of you, and you felt like you could just fall over and die.
You clear your throat, deciding that you simply couldn't make eye contact with him at all after that!
He notices your embarrassed body language, "Hey, I was just joking, I don't mind your eyes wandering a little." He teases and it somehow made your face even hotter, you were afraid you would burst into flames.
"Just-Just go back to what you were saying." You almost plead as you run a hand through your wavy hair.
Jungkook plates the last pancake on to your elegantly presented plate, before sliding it in front of you. Making a plate for himself he decides to eat standing up in front of you with his plate on the counter you could maintain direct eye contact.
"I met Hana about a year ago at Ryan's old school before we switched here. She's another parent I'd met at one of their events. I was going through a lot of shit back then, so relationships were the furthest thing from my mind but one night about 6 months ago, our kids were away at a summer camp for 2 days; and after a few play dates over the prior months, she'd called me to let me know that Ryan had left one of his toys at her place. So I went to pick it up, but we ended up talking, had a few drinks and one thing led to another and then shit hit the roof." He sighs before taking a bite of his breakfast, which is delicious by the way.
Your head tilted to the side ever so slightly, subconsciously of course but Jungkook took it as an indication to explain. "I made sure it was clear to her it was just a one time thing and she agreed. For the first few weeks I thought we were on the same page, but then she started calling me and leaving these... desperate voicemails. After that I already knew I wouldn't be be bringing Ryan back to that preschool, besides their teachers were terrible." You nod, no longer eating as the story kept you fed and engaged.
"At first I thought she would stop over time, but she didn't. It only got worse, so I finally called her back to let her know she needed to stop but she wanted to have the conversation in person, which sounded reasonable to me at the time, but I should've seen right through it because low and behold, the same mistake was made, once again."
"Wait," You pause him, "So when did you guys hook up the second time?" His eyes look up to the ceiling as though the answer was written on it, "Sometime around the end of August, just a few weeks before school started." The twinge of jealousy that bubbled in your stomach was undeniable but you had no right to be jealous. He literally had no idea you existed at the time.
"And she kept calling your phone all the way until Thanksgiving?" you say with a weird tone, unsure how Jungkook would've let her continue to bother him for so long. Almost with shame he nods,
"I kept saying I would get around to cutting her off once and for all, but I went to a pretty dark place, y'know how life can get sometimes. I didn't care much for anything at all, but when I saw what it had done to us," he gestures between the two of you, "I realized my negligence was driving away people that were important to me, and I didn't want to lose you. So I had ended things with her once and for all shortly after new years. Y'know, wanting to start off the year fresh and shit like that."
You swallow, "I had no idea, you were going through such a hard time." You say almost sadly but maintain the soft smile on your face. A similar one creeping onto his face, "Well then that's good. Means the antidepressants are doing their job." He chuckles and you didn't know whether to laugh along or be concerned.
"It's okay Y/n, you can laugh." You smile, "I-I just don't know what to say. All this time I was thinking I was some kind of home-wrecker or that you were seeing someone else, but to hear you explain what was actually going on makes me feel like such an idiot."
Jungkook scoffs jokingly, "Homewrecker? If Ryan's mother was still in the picture, a 'homewrecker' would be exactly what I would need, and a bullet to the head if I'm being honest." he shakes his head, remembering what he describes as the worst time in his life. Your hand boldly clasps over your mouth stifling a laugh at his dramatic expression.
He laughs, "I'm serious, though." His smile fades, "Those are seven years I can never get back." You flinch at the number, that's almost a decade. Calculations begin to roll around your head autonomously. "So-" You begin to say but he already knew where you were going with this.
"We met at 15, had Ryan at 21 unexpectedly, but no regrets of course, and broke up at 22, thank god." Releasing a calming breath of air as he says that last part, clearly they didn't end on good terms if he feels so at peace every time he mentions her absence.
"But that's enough about me for the day. How's your apartment? Any updates on the power?" You shake your head, digging back into your food, "Hopefully it should be fixed by tonight, I'd hate to over stay my welcome." Jungkook rolls his eyes, "You know I want you here more than anything, and I'm not letting you go back to your place until things are up and running again."
You didn't bother fighting him on it, you knew it would be you fighting a losing battle so you let him have it.
It would be a lie to say that you didn't enjoy your lazy Saturday with Jungkook, the two of you lounged around the house talking the day away. You watched breaking bad and kept saying that you had to stop to do some schedule planning for the kids but you couldn't seem to leave the couch, or his arms. "Just one more episode" becoming a meaningless statement.
He was seriously invested in your stories from your travels in Europe over the summer, expressing how he dreams to visit one day.
Time seemed to have zoomed for the next 3 hours, now bringing you to a dark sky and the crackling fireplace keeping you warm as you played a childish round of truth or drink.
The two of you sat comfortably on the carpet with the game cards stacked neatly on the coffee table which was also responsible for holding your shot glasses.
Your chest was already warm from the consequences of three passed questions while Jungkook only had passed two.
"Your turn," your voice bubbly and excited as you pick up the card for Jungkook, flipping it over to ask him. "What's something you've never told anyone?" He sits there, and you can see he really thinks about it. Glancing back and forth between the shot glass and the card in your hand.
"I'm a millionaire." He says it so casually, with a bit of booze in your brain you begin to die of laughter. "Yeah, me too." You snicker, slwoly beginning to quiet down as you realize he wasn't laughing with you.
"Oh my god, are you being serious?" He shrugs, "I guess so. Remember when I said I was going through a lot of shit a year ago? Well part of that stems from me getting some cryptic ass letter that basically announced the death of some rich guy who claimed to be my biological father and left me his inheritance."
You sit there quietly, "I showed my parents the letter as a gag, expecting to get a good laugh out of it and that turned out to be one of the most depressing conversations I'd ever endured." Jungkook honestly wasn't sure why he was telling you all this, he'd told you things today he never thought he'd share with anyone but there was something that let him feel like he could be open with you.
"So you're telling me, you found out you were adopted and suddenly a millionaire on the same day." A slow nodding of his head was all it took for you to see he clearly wasn't thrilled about it. "I still haven't touched the money, really. Although I did use it to cover my parents' mortgage for the next few years. I don't really know what to do with the rest of it."
A small hum escapes your throat as you ponder, "If you ever feel like it's a burden to you, don't hesitate to just pass it on to me. It'll be hard but I'm sure I could think of something to do with it." His head falls back as his body shakes slightly with his laughter, "I'll keep that in mind."
"Your turn," He says, hands reaching to flip over a card as he reads it out to you. "How many people have you slept with?" He makes a certain face at the card as if he was displeased. "This is a bit invasive, do you want me to pick up another one?" You shrug, "I don't mind answering. It's one."
"Like one this year?" It slips out before he can catch it, and he regrets it, you can tell. "No. Just one person, ever. My ex. I'm not really one to have any sexcapades. I have a rule." You're sure if he had bunny ears, one would flop up in curiosity. "Oh?"
"I never go all the way with someone until at least six months of dating them so I can see that they're all in for the right reasons. hence why only one has made it so far. Everyone else usually thinks they can like persuade me three months in." Suddenly your throat felt like it was lined with sandpaper. "Is that a deal breaker for you?" Intently you watched the way he played with the ring hooped in his bottom lip with a serious expression.
"Are you saying we're dating, Y/n?" A teasing smirk spreads across his lips. You look away, unable to handle the intensity of his gaze on your from a mere foot away. "If that's okay with you-" A gentle hand cups your jaw as he turns you to face him, taking your breath away with a sweet kiss. His lips were as soft as you remembered them to be.
You could feel a certain shift in the kiss, turning from gentle and sweet to something a little deeper. It were as though there were magnets between your bodies, you found yourselves impossibly close to the point Jungkook forced himself to pull away from you, only to welcome you to straddle his hips.
"I'm okay with that." he grins before resuming his passionate attack on your lips.
2:04am
Your glasses were on and your hair was up, that was a sign that it was time for you to finally go to sleep yet here you were. Sitting up at the table with a stack of files you'd brought from your place that you needed to go through.
The border around your eyes were tinted red as you strained to stay up and finish, but you weren't even close.
"You're still up?" Jungkook says softly as he comes down in nothing but his black sweatpants. "I could ask you the same thing." Hardly sparing him a glance as you write down numbers onto the papers.
"You know I don't sleep much ever since I got my prescription. I can get 3-4 hours at night if I'm lucky." You frown, finally looking up at him, proud of yourself for not letting your jaw hit the floor as you patrolled him as he went to fill a glass of water from the fridge.
You knew he had a sleeve of tattoos, it was one of the first things you'd noticed about him, but you had no idea his back had its own art as well. The sleeve of tattoos that creeped over the back of his shoulder as it morphed into the most beautiful pair of inked angel wings that spread out across the expanse of his upper back.
You swallowed, shaking away your filthy thoughts. "What's got you up so late?" He leans over you to get a glimpse at the papers. "Regulatory compliances." It was so cute when he was confused. "Basically I have to cross reference the curriculum with our lesson plans and report that everything we're doing is aligned with the boards' outline." It dawns on him in the form of a soft 'ah'.
"When does this have to be done by?"
"Wednesday," It comes out with a rough tone and exhausted groan, you were clearly stressed. "Okay, Y/n, it's only Sunday. How about you put a pin in it and get some rest, hm?" Warm hands are placed on your shoulders and you nearly fall asleep right there but you shake your head, "I'm fine, I can keep going-" You yawn for what must be the 4th time since Jungkook came down.
"Okay, That's it. Come on, we're going to bed." He closes your files and takes your hand, letting you hop out of the chair and follow him up the steps debatably against your will as you're sure you would've given up no longer than 15 minutes later.
The moment your head hit the pillow, you were out like a light. Jungkook chuckles to himself softly at the thought that you truly tried to argue that you weren't tired.
He slips in beside you, loving the way your body naturally detected him and began to roll over towards him just like you did the night before, slotting yourself into his side. Once again, your warmth and the soft feeling of your heartbeat on his ribcage mixing together, prompting his brain to release enough melatonin until his eyes closed.
-
"Good news." Is the first thing you say as you walk into the living room at 2pm after your well needed shower. "The power is working again at my place," Jungkook pouts at what he took as bad news, he was not-so-secretly hoping you would be staying a little longer.
"Don't look so sad, you see me literally every day." the dimple in your right cheek making a brief appearance as you smiled, making your way over to him on the couch.
"I know, but I really like having you here." You poke his cheeks that puffed up with his sad expression. "If you want to see me a little longer, then would you be okay with giving me a ride back to my place?"
He scoffs, "It's funny you thought I wasn't going to drop you off in the first place." he leans forward to drop a quick peck to your lips catching you off guard before bouncing up out of his spot, hardly giving you a chance to process.
The two of you making comfortable conversation with small giggles as you begin to put your jackets on, preparing to return you back to your apartment. Tugging your hat on with a firm pull before you picked up your bag and declared that you were ready to go.
Jungkook opened the door, stepping out with you closely behind him. Not sure if your eyes were blinded by the gleaming light that was reflected off the snow or the bright flashes of light emitted from the dozens of paparazzi camped outside the driveway.
Jungkook's name was shouted from various different people as they waved to get his attention as if being outside his front door wasn't alarming enough. Jungkook's face had been covered in disbelief just like yours, but differently he was able to shake it off and maintain his composure.
Taking your hand in a reassuring manner, he continued his path down the steps, whispering to you to keep your head down as you followed behind him. "Is it true that you're the secret son of the late business tycoon Jeon Jaehoon?" The woman holds a microphone to Jungkook, looking for an answer, and she most certainly got one.
"How about you ask me again when I make sure you're all behind bars for trespassing and harassment hm? How does that sound?" The flashes finally stop and some photographers begin to leave, Jungkook doesn't even wait for them all to leave, trusting that he got his point across clearly and makes his way to the drivers seat.
Once the doors closed it was as though you'd trapped in a foot deep layer or tension within it. Jungkook's chest rises slowly, flared nostrils and tensed brows before a slow and agitated exhaled. "It wasn't you right?" He asks.
Your posture straightens as you face him.
"What?"
"Tell me that it's all just a coincidence, Y/n. I tell you about the inheritance last night and suddenly there's paparazzi buzzing outside my house today?" Your head juts back, offended. "Are you implying that I told someone what you told me in confidence last night? Are you being serious right now?"
"I'm paranoid, okay? I'm sorry."
You sigh. As pissed as you wanted to be, you had to see it from his perspective. A swarm of paparazzi showing up less than than 24 hours after he shares the information with the first person outside his family doesn't exactly work in your favour.
"It's fine, I get it. I'd be paranoid too." He starts the car, leaving his now vacated lot behind. "Then who would do this?"
"Your guess is as good as mine."
-
The following day was as hectic as any other day but you loved your job. Working with such big personalities that were bursting out their small bodies.
But you did love the end of the day too, sayin goodbye and mentally preparing for some relaxation when you finally got home. All day you'd be fantasizing about drawing a nice warm bath with eucalyptus and lavender oils.
You thought of it as the perfect way to wind down after a long day. Although seeing Jungkook's face for a few minutes while he picked up Ryan.
"I'm here to pick up my son." You turn around with a smile, to the new and unfamiliar face. She was tall with dark long locks that were curled at the ends, her heels were high and her face was looked like it belonged billboards and magazines.
You were a bit confused, you'd never seen her before, and you're sure you'd remember someone that brought in such a domineering aura the way she did.
"Sure, if you don't mind me asking who you are." You wanted to remain as polite as possible not wanting to offend her.
"I'm Ryan's mother."
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My Girlfriend is a Menace (Menace series) - LN
Summary: Lando's girlfriend finds anyway to embarrass or torment him but he loves her regardless
Kind of love the idea of Lando dating an nightmare of a girlfriend for his PR team but her loving her regardless and always defending her or protecting her when it comes to people being too harsh on her. Maybe a new series? Idk.
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Lando honestly loves his girlfriend. He loves the fact she trolls haters online, she has the same sense of humour as him, she is his PR team's nightmare and most importantly she bullies and annoyed the hell out of him.
"Lando, mate...what is y/n doing there in the background? I keep seeing her moving around in the background there." Max questions making Lando smile sarcastically before shifting back, knowing the inevitable.
Y/n appears on the screen sitting on his lap and leaning into the mic while Max already start laughing.
"Hi, Max. Lando promised that we could have a skincare night then forgot and came on here. So I'm doing it anyway, because he promised." Y/n states while he smiles behind her.
Truth be told, he may not have forgot, but sometimes he loves showing her off to the world. Plus she's became a meme within the F1 community from her responses to haters in his chat that are against her dating Lando.
"Did he?" Max hums unconvinced Lando forgot a promise. If there's one thing Lando isn't with y/n, it's forgetful. "When you two come back to England, can you come feature in my stream?"
"Is that an invite?" Y/n pouts looking completely touched by the idea that Max would want her on his stream.
"Don't make my girlfriend cry, you know she'll shed tears over anything." Lando jokes while poking y/n's ribs teasingly which tears her eyes from Max before she spots the chat and immediately rolls her eyes.
"Sorry, Lando. The chat is right, I'm dumping you to pursue the real love of my life...Max."
"Told you mate. I'm irresistible." Max laughs then earning a grin from the young woman before she remembers what she's meant to be doing. "You know, I think we should just pause the game. Lando, your skincare routine has been asked for for months. Time for the fans to know."
"Y/n, talk them through it."
"Ok, baby." Y/n smiles turning around to tap his cheek. "Need to cleanse first-I need a cloth, wait here. I'll be a minute Max."
Y/n takes off jumping up from his lap while Lando grins not being able to shake off how good it feels to see her so excited.
"Jesus, did you do this on purpose to show her off again?" Max questions while Lando just raises his middle finger to the man through his camera. "Could just say yes."
"I could." Lando hums before she reappears moving back onto his lap with her mumbling something about him not distracting her. But once she's cleansed his skin she gets out the face mask. "Ah, no baby. No-"
"You promised." Y/n pouts making him groan since face masks are only annoying because it means he has to tame his facial expressions. "It doesn't dry down. This one is a yoghurt one."
"Uh, ok? Does that do something good?"
"Shut up, you muppet." Y/n tsks while Max cackles watching her wipe it on his face, he's turned the chair so it's not just a view of her back blocking the sight of what she's doing. "Does it feel ok? I don't want to give you an allergic reaction or something."
"Yeah, it's fine."
"Can he play the game with the mask on?" Max asks making her look and nod with a thumbs up.
Another minute later of Lando actually realising how relaxing it is for her to do his skincare.
"Ok, I'll leave you to play on the game, it's a 20 minute mask...don't touch it, or try to eat it." Y/n instructs earning a nod before she leans over kissing him softly while he rolls his eyes at her feeling the need to tell him not to eat it.
"Thank you, I'll see you soon." Lando smiles before she climbs off of his lap and blows a kiss to the stream.
"When I come over to see you Max, I'll do your skincare on stream too so the chat can really get riled up." Y/n smiles sarcastically sending Max into some hard laughter before she's up on her feet and Lando smacks her ass clearly as a warning but also just because he can.
-
Y/n smirks looking at Lando's Vegas helmet since she giggles at him, since she's seen posts and comments about the helmet which she just thinks are really funny.
"What?" Lando questions, immediately recognising the expression from her.
"Everyone is saying it's great that you've got a helmet dedicated to Taylor Swift."
"You're so annoying." Lando groans while she just laughs at him before he shoves the helmet on her head and pushes her onto the sofa in the McLaren unit. Smiling to himself as she breaks into hysterics from his actions.
So far in Vegas, y/n has been even more of a menace to the point that the McLaren PR team has begged Lando to essentially leash her. Apparently her being at the casino in a fairly immodest dress and blowing through quite a bit of her own money, all of which she documented.
"Ah no. You already got shouted at and nearly cried. Don't leave my side." Lando states catching her arm when she tries to make a break for it.
She did actually get yelled at by the PR team while Lando wasn't around, since they wouldn't have dared speak to her like that in front of Lando and he had words with them about them not cornering her whether he is there or not. But also, he knows they're stressed and she does have a questionable public image. She's young and just doesn't care what people thing.
"Lando..." Y/n pouts while he sighs knowing that she likes to go out and socialise with others around the paddock. "Ok...I'm sorry."
"I love you." Lando whispers softly knowing that a strong-willed and bold his girlfriend is, she can also be quite sensitive behind closed doors and she isn't always so quiet and softly spoke so when she is he knows to try and reassure her.
"I love you too." Y/n murmurs as he moves closer and kisses her forehead before tucking her head under his chin while he hugs her tightly. "Does that mean I get to sit in the car with you for the race?"
Lando can't even stop himself from laugh as she shifts back to look up at him with a grin.
"No, you're going to your second boyfriend."
"Maxie! Where is he actually?"
"I don't now, we can go find him though." Lando smiles knowing his friend always perks up his girlfriend's mood, if only because she likes to make Max constantly wish Lando was still single. She's like an annoying little sister who lives to frustrate Max when they're side by side.
-
Y/n not being a fan of the cold, the first skiing trip with his friends doesn't involve her but that doesn't mean she's inactive.
"Hi, everyone. I'm on Lando's stream. He uhhhh...he's on holiday and I'm going to try to figure out how to game. He always tries to get me to do it...no I'm not going to break it. I know how to turn the damn turn otherwise you wouldn't see me right now." Y/n smiles then sighing. "But...I don't know how to get the game screen up...No! No. No one tell him! No one tweet him or message-oh actually he's skiing right now so he won't look at his phone."
After nearly an hour she finally gets the chat to guide her before she is up playing COD.
"Oh yeah, baby. Time to play." Y/n grins then sighing and settling back in the seat. "When I was younger, my dad used to want me to play games with him...but that was on the PlayStation 2. So we're going to see how I cope with this change. Lando is actually coming home tomorrow, I've just ran out of things to do at the moment and I saw his stream set up."
Y/n ends up gaming with all sorts of people through hours of playing and slowly but surely she picks up her skills again and the chat goes from primarily telling her to get off to actually rooting for her and telling her to make her own channel on twitch.
What she doesn't realise is that she ends up playing for the better part of the whole day till Lando appears in the dark background and she literally screams nearly breaking his headset that she'd had to wear plugged in after the battery started to die.
"Baby! Baby! It's me. Stop hitting me!" Lando laughs kneeling on the floor as she slaps at his back, not really hard but enough to keep him down. Though he's wheezing from his laughter.
"No! You scared the fuck out of me. Who grabs someone like that? And why are you home early?"
"I'm not! And you're supposed to be ready to leave for our trip home." Lando cackles as she finally stops clearly confused. "And I've been trying to call and message you for hours since my fans told me you nearly reached the 24 hour mark of playing on COD."
"I-what?"
"Alright, guys. Y/n is done, I'll help her set up her an account another time. We have to go and she has to sleep. Thank you for watching her completely destroy everyone on COD, thank you for sharing clips with me." Lando smiles before ending the stream while y/n rubs at her eyes realising how sore they are.
"Fuck...now I know how you manage to play for so long." Y/n groans rubbing her eyes and yawning as it all hits her at once. "I didn't break anything I promise."
"I know, but you did make enough unhinged and unfiltered comments that I think my PR teams messages about how your temper might be a risk to my safety were genuine and not just jokes." Lando smirks while she smiles and rushes to him, jumping up to wrap her legs around his waist as he catches her and there's an immediate kiss.
"I missed you. How was your last day of skiing?"
"It was good, but we need to get over to Woking." Lando states while she hums resting her head in his neck. "No. You can't sleep yet, wait till we're on the plane."
"Mmm...but I'm tired now." Y/n yawns latching onto him when he tries to encourage her to get down.
"But we have to travel." Lando chuckles shaking his body till her legs finally drop and he cups her face lightly. "Alright, baby. We'll be quick. But maybe next time keep an eye on how long you're gaming for."
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ddejavvu · 5 months
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omg part two for hotch scrolling through your ig pretty please 😭😭 like IMAGINE penelope gathering the rest of the gang so they can collectively stalk your instagram and she accidentally likes one of your pictures while lurking
Penelope isn't often scared of Hotch, because the man has a soft spot for her, and she knows it. But now he's staring at her with a stern glare, something she's not usually on the receiving end of. She shifts on her heels, strangely speechless.
"Sir? Is everything okay?"
He lets her suffer in silence for a moment longer, then gestures towards his phone face-up on the desk. It's lit up with a text notification, and she faintly recognizes the name that it's attached to.
Y/N Y/L/N: Isn't this your computer whiz?
"Open it." Hotch instructs, his voice unfailingly calm, which sets Penelope even further on edge. She reaches out with a trembling finger to tap on the notification and it opens your thread, the screen entirely consumed with a screenshot you'd taken of your instagram. Sure enough, in your notifications page is a note: baby_girl_penny_g liked your photo.
"Um," Penelope stalls, and despite her rampant creativity, she can't bring herself to fib, "Well, I- the tags were-"
"There were no hashtags," Hotch stops her in her tracks, "The only way you could have found that photo was on her profile. How long ago was that posted?"
Penelope scrolls to the bottom of the post even though she doesn't want to, and mutters "2018."
"Five years ago. Five-" Hotch steels himself before he gets too upset, pinching the slim bridge of his nose, "Garcia, did Morgan tell you about this?"
"it wasn't his fault," She pleads his case, "I could tell there was something on his mind! So I got him, like, super drunk, and we-"
"Penelope, this was none of your business." Hotch speaks over her. He doesn't like cutting her off, but he knows her, and she'll talk for hours just to try and weasel her way back into his good graces. He watches her squirm with a stern expression, hands folded on his desk while he clenches his jaw.
"I won't tell anyone else." She promises weakly, and Aaron raises a single eyebrow at her. Secret-keeping is not her forte, and they both know it.
"Okay, so-" She crumples, "I- I totally will. But Hotch, we're gonna be happy for you! I'm already happy for you, you deserve this! You deserve love, even if you try to use this job as an excuse not to find it! You found it, and you should own it."
"I purposefully did not share the status of my relationship with our team. It was meant to be private."
Penelope regains some of her boldness now, even in the face of Hotch's scowl, "Well tough shit, Hotchner! We love you, and we were all there when you lost Haley! We watched you die inside, and we deserve to watch you live again! We are part of your family, Hotch, whether you like it or not, and we're not gonna walk away just because you get snippy with us! So help me, Hotch, I will handcuff myself to you until you realize that we are here. We are here, and we love you, and we always will! You can tell us about your life, because we want to enjoy it with you."
Perhaps she shouldn't have been so forward. Perhaps she shouldn't have said the H-word, or brought up Hotch's infuriating tendency to distrust people's care for him not out of malice, but out of self-loathing. Perhaps she should have hung her head and apologized, but Penelope Garcia is headstrong, and she does not fear the tense wrath of Aaron Hotchner simply for loving him.
For a moment, she worries that she's flaunted a red cape around a bull. Reid's words echo in her mind about how it's nothing to do with the color red, and everything to do with the movement of the fabric, but now is not the time, Doctor Reid, thank you very much. She waits for him to charge, knows he'll withdraw now that she's faced him with the terror of being known, of being cared for, and she can feel her heart sink to the nearly-numb heels of her feet.
Then something in his jaw shifts, and he glances away from her, blinking.
"Thank you." He murmurs, and she thinks she may have heard him wrong.
"What?" She whispers, and he gnaws at the inside of his cheek, caving it in.
"Thank you. For being firm with me." He clarifies, "I... I'm glad that you're here."
Tears spring to her eyes and she nods vigorously, incapable of speech but overflowing with emotion. He swallows, clearing his throat, "In the future, please do not stalk my romantic partners. And... in the future, I will introduce you, so that you don't need to stalk them."
"Okay," She grins through her misty eyes, letting him steer the conversation back towards his comfort zone, "Okay, Hotch. We love you. And- and we're really happy for you, and can I please go and tell the others?"
He laughs despite himself, and doesn't bother steeling himself into composure anymore. He grins, "Fine. But leave out the details of her most recent posts, please."
"The ones where she talks about being sore in the mornings?" She fixes him with a devious grin, already making for the door intent on shouting the news from the rooftops, "I won't say it in the bullpen, 'cause Reid couldn't handle it, but I'm totally gossiping with the girls about it, Hotch."
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rizsu · 1 year
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euphoria ? suna rintarō.
sum. labeled, but sfw. arguments, suna cries, angst -> comfort.
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rintarō isn't one to let his anger dominate him; rather, he tries his best to keep his emotions at bay. however, there's only so much someone can take before exploding. high octaves of a once calm voice bounces off the walls, it takes both by shock. rintarō stops, his eyes bulging when he realizes what happened.
fuck, he thinks. he didn't mean to. swallowing the burning sensation of guilt, he steps forward. countless apologies flow from his lips, clammy hands trying to reach you in attempts of a hug. you're still shocked. numb to your feet, your mind replays the scene. it hurts. it really hurts. you didn't mean for it to turn out like this.
from a simple worry to nagging to spitting out meaningless words of anger. it never meant to escalate like that; nothing was supposed to turn the way it did. hurt, anger, jealousy, and sadness. he knew your words came from concern, but he was already irritated—annoyed in a way that he just wanted to be locked in a quiet room. both parties letting their words go before logic; nothing was meant to turn this way.
“i think...i think i'll go upstairs. please don't come.” y/n mumbled, pain evident in her voice. as your figure ascends into the upper floor, rintarō slouches back into the couch. a heavy sigh fills the room; regret and guilt seeps into his pores, eating him alive.
i'm a fucking ass, he thinks again.
rintarō laughs. he drags his palms over his face, stopping at his eyes before he laughs again. it's funny, really. did he really have to lash out like that? rintarō promised he'll never hurt you. he'd never ever hurt you, but can that promise still hold meaning even after this? physically, he didn't. mentally and internally? the tremble of your voice said more than enough.
the more his mind repeats what happened like a broken record, the more tears well up in his eyes. they threaten him. they laugh at him. the salty liquid mocks him—it's almost as if it's saying, “ha! you're an idiot!” 
he swallows hard, trying so hard not to let his voice be heard. he doesn't want to cry but fuck, it hurts so much. when the dam swells until it bursts, floods occur. and so he let it go. the tears race down the sides of his face. he covers his mouth with one hand, biting hard in attempts not to make a sound.
it's been a few hours. each in their own space, trying to soften the pain that invited itself. no one tried speaking to another—the fight lingers fresh in both minds. rintarō's on the edge; he's itching to be in your presence. to hold you. to kiss you. 
five minutes turn into ten, which turned into twenty, and he's still there. still behind the door that separates him from you, hesitating to turn the knob. his hand shakes—he's nervous..? anxious? afraid you'd ask him to leave you alone? hell, he doesn't know.
rintarō didn't know he was in his head until the door opened on your side. he gapes at you, eyes searching for something.
“rin—” you start but he continued, “i'm sorry.”
he notes the confusion riddled on your face but he continues on.
“i'm sorry, love.” he says, hands holding yours as he looks down biting his lips. he's ashamed to face you.
“rintarō,” you tighten your grip on his hand, “let's sit down.” you instruct and he obeys, chewing on his bottom lip as a distraction.
rintarō's eyes linger on you. he observes your face, your behaviour, your tired eyes that show clear evidence of countless hours of crying. his heart hurts. he never thought he'd be the reason you're crying tears of sadness. never did he ever want to make you cry like that.
“you've been crying.”
“yeah, you too huh? i'm sorry, rin.”
at your apology he freezes. you're sorry? why are you apologizing? he's the one who lost control so why the fuck are you apologizing?
rintarō laughs again. he's been acting like a real fool hasn't he? having a wife who apologises for her husband's inconsiderate actions.
“don't. don't do that. don't apologise.”
“but—”
“please,” he begged. pushing you both down onto the bed, rintarō holds you above him. one arm wrapped tightly around your waist while the other rubs your shoulder, he continues his speech, “i didn't mean to—i didn't mean to yell like that. i don't know what i'd do if you left.”
you play with the hem of his shirt waiting for him to finish.
he let out a ragged breath before continuing, “i don't like it when you're hurt. this is gonna sound corny but i hate it when you cry too.”
you wait again but he doesn't continue like before. confused you look up at him only to furrow your eyebrows while your eyes wash over with concern. is he trying to not cry? you think.
yeah, he's crying again. small droplets trickle down his face once more as he sucks in his cheeks trying to not make a sound.
“rin.” he doesn't answer.
“suna rin.” he hums quietly but it's not the answer you want.
“suna rintarō.” there, he answers.
your heart shreds. hearing his voice like this was as rare as a red moon; you hate it. you hate how he never allows himself to cry. he's human isn't he? so why's he acting as though he's a machine.
you sit up on his lower half, cupping his face forcing him to look at you.
“we both did our wrongs so why are you behaving like you committed a first degree crime?” you ask though you aren't looking for an answer.
he stays quiet. eyes lost deep in yours as he waits for your words again.
“yes it did hurt, but that doesn't mean i'll throw away your love doesn't it? i know better than to divorce you for this argument, rin. we've been together for years.”
your fingers start to caress his cheek—some even tracing his face's outline. rintarō's hands find refuge on your waist, he holds and plays with your skin.
“i love you, rin. i'll tell you over and over until you know it.”
“i know.”
“then act like you know, boy.”
he laughs for the fifth time today, but it's no longer a laugh of disbelief, no. it's a laugh of joy. it's a breathy laugh that makes his eyes crinkle.
he sits up, pulling you into a hug as he lowers his head into the junction of your neck and shoulders. a smile finally dawns both faces.
after long hours anger says goodbye as love enters the house. what a day, you both think.
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Hell Hath No Fury | Aemond Targaryen
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Request: Yes
Summary: Aemond has become distant and you find out why.
Warning: blood, miscarriage, cheating, assault
Hell Hath No Fury Masterlist
You couldn't believe it.
He was the good brother, the dutiful son, the valiant knight... the faithful husband. There was no way that your Aemond wouldn't do this to you. 
This explains why he was traveling so often to Harrenhal away from you for so long when you needed him the most, you thought as you rubbed your swollen belly staring at the piece of paper in your hand. 
He had gotten that whore pregnant, and from the letter it seemed you two were both soon to give birth.  
Alys Rivers, the strong Bastard, the Witch...Yet another thing you two had in common, maybe your husband had a type.
This was it. the beginning of the end. If Alys Rivers gave birth to that child there is nothing that would stop her from coming to court, having her child legitimized, having Aemond take her as a mistress, bringing shame and embarrassment upon you and your child.
No.
"Push princess, push." The midwife needlessly instructed as someone wiped the sweat from your brow. 
"I do appreciate your help and respect and acknowledge that you have helped bring many royals into this world so please forgive me when I say, 'please shut the fuck up and let me concentrate." You yelled back as you took two deep breaths before closing your eyes and letting your head fall backwards. 
Opening your eyes again you see your in a hallway standing in front of a door, you can still hear the midwives telling you to push. placing your hand in the door you push it open slowly as you see the sight of Alys Rivers and Aemond in bed together. 
His arm is wrapped around her, as they are both naked it isn't hard to guess what it was that had made them so tired. Walking into the room you hear the door close behind you just as you stand right above them. As if sensing your presence Alys' eyes snap open and stare up at you. 
She opens her mouth to wake Aemond before you stop her. 
"Don't bother calling out, her can't hear us." You informed her reaching for his arm and throwing it away from her causing his to shift in his sleep and turn over. "No one can. From the look on your face I can tell you know exactly who I am, which is amusing considering I knew nothing of you a moon ago."
"I know this must be upsetti-."
"No! You don't because you are not his wife, you are not the one he married and swore loyalty to only to turn around and impregnate some whore." You sneered at her as she flinched back. "What was your plan? to take my husband, become and mistress, you seek to replace me and my child?" You asked as she simply shook her head in denial. 
"It was never meant to happen like this, but I love Aemond and he loves me, I'm sorry that you are hurt by this but that is the truth of it. I never thought I would be able to have children but this is a gift that Aemond has given to me and we both are thankful to be having it, but that does not mean he is any less thankful for your child and I promise you that I mean no harm to your life, marriage or the life of your child."  Alys rushed to explain. Taking a moment you look on at this women in bed with your husband and think of her words.
"Words....are not enough." You say before Alys' body is forced down into the bed. Leaning over her you pulled the sheets from her body exposing her milky skin to the cold air. 
"What are you doing?" Alys asked as she struggled against the invisible force. 
"Don't worry I am simply righting a wrong," You informed her as you pulled a knife from your dress. "The child that grows inside of you belongs to my husband"  You continue as you placed the blade to her belly.
"No! Please no." Alys pleads as she fight to get away from you. "I'm beg you please. I have wronged you I admit but my child is innocent, Aemond's child is innocent." 
"I know." You say before plunging the knife into her womb as she lets out a blood curtailing scream. Once the cut was made you reached inside of her wound ignoring the blood and cries of the women as you pull the child from her body. Cradling the child in your arm you softly coo to the child as Alys lets out another round of sobs. "Please do not morn for the child will live, but it will be birthed by me, as should all children of my husband." 
Turning and walking away the door slowly creaks back open allowing you to walk back into the hall. "Though I am very thankful for this gift you and my husband have given to me Alys, I trust it will be the last one" You say before the door closes once again. 
"Just one more push my princess." You left you head once again over come with the pain of child birth. "Here it comes." After one more push the room is filled with the cries of your child. 
"A prince, you have given birth to a prince." The midwife announced moving to retrieve a blanket for the newborn. She began to hand you your child before you leaned forward and let out a painful groan. "The afterbirth."
another midwife crouched between your leg as you groan in pain. "No there is a head, there is another babe." She informed sending the room into another round of panic as you were instructed again to push.
"Another prince." She soon declares as the second child begins to cry. 
 Cradling both babes in your arms you look down at the two clearly Targaryen princes with a small smile, Alicent entered the room quickly making it to your side "Aemon and  Armon." You names them as she looks to her grandchildren made my her favorite son. 
***
It had been three days since Aemond woke to Alys' screams, the sheets around her covered in blood as she cradled her stomach. The maesters said it was a miscarriage, but Alys insisted that it wasn't, when Aemond tried to comfort her she yelled for him to leave her and refused to be near him. After the second day of trying he chose to return to Kingslanding where is was notified that his wife had given birth to twin boys. 
Entering the chambers he sees his wife cooing at the two newborns laying on their bed. Turning towards your husband your eyes widen. "Aemond, I thought you were Beth to assist me with taking the twins to midday meal, the family wished to meet them." 
"Well I am sorry to disappoint you," Aemond teased walking closer to the bed. "But I promise I can try to be as good as Beth until she arrives." 
"Oh stop." You laughed a bit before letting out a sigh. "Actually I am glad that you are here, I wanted to speak with you."
"What is it you wish to speak of?" He asked rubbing his knuckle along Aemon's face.
"I know that this marriage started as an arrangement, but I understand that at the time we both believed that we become fond of each other and perhaps even love, and I thought that we had begun to share these feeling but I realize that I can not hold you to promises we made as children." You now had his full attention. "And if it is what you want, I will not fight you on seeking annulment."
"You have been distant and it was not until the twins were born that I realize just how distant you've become, we used to spend time together, reading, painting, laughing but I gave birth for the first time and my husband was not to be found." You explained. "I do not blame you for not returning my feeling or for pulling away but I can't live thinking that I'm driving you from your home or thinking that this distance between us will affect our children." 
"Please," Aemond says grabbing your hand and kneeling at your side. "Your feeling are returned I swear it to you, my distance is of no fault of your own."
"Then what is it?" You pleaded looking into his eyes. "I wish for you to be there for our children, for them to love and be moved by you. You once told me you didn't want to be like your father, I do not want this either."
Looking into your eyes Aemond knew he couldn't tell you the reason, he knew it would break your heart and he couldn't do that to you not after you had just given him two son, not ever. "It matters not, It will never happen again." He assures giving your hand a gentle squeeze. "I will not be the father viserys was to me and I will not be the husband he was to my mother. You three are my life and I will spend every second to assure that you know it. 
"My princess It is time for your midday meal with your family." Beth informed entering the chambers.
"Thank you Beth would you please hold Aemon and I will take Armon you instruct as Aemond stands and helps you from the bed. Standing and walking towards the door you asked Beth to please walk ahead of you. "I thank you for hearing me Aemond and I do hope this isn't asking to much but I also must ask something else of you." 
Aemond nodded as he rubs his hand up and down your back in comfort. 
"I wish for this to be a pleasant occasion so I must ask you not fight with Jace and Luke, though it seems you have grown quite fond of Strong bastards as of late." You say before walking ahead leaving his frozen in the door way of the room.  
Part Two
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lis-likes-fics · 4 months
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A Christmas Movie
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Pairings: Miguel O'Hara x spider!Reader Word Count: 5.4k exactly Kink: Size Kink Warnings: NSFW, smut, unprotected sex, swearing, size difference, fingering, multiple orgasms, creampie, love vomits, Miguel speaking Spanish… A/N: This is a few hours late but I literally finished it five minutes ago. Miguel describes the reader as tiny a lot, but it is only meant in comparison to him, not as a physical description of the reader. Thank you! Also A/N: This can be read as a sequel to this oneshot, but can also be read as a standalone. Thank you and enjoy!
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“Is this necessary?”
You rub your side as you lay on the floor, an ache in your muscles as you get thrown to the hard floor again. Looking up at him, you move to stand. “Yes.”
Miguel crosses his arms over his chest, his gray hoodie loose enough not to allow you the pleasure of seeing his muscles bulging through the material. “Why?” he asks, waiting patiently for you to recover before he advances again.
You stretch your arms over your head, feeling your back pop with a heavy sigh. “Well, you saw my attempt just then. You threw me like a fucking ragdoll.”
He shrugs. “Are you ready?”
You sigh, shifting back into your starting stance.
“Firmer stance. I shouldn't be able to move you.”
You roll your eyes and scoff. “Of course you should. Have you seen yourself? You're huge…in more ways than one.” You smirk at him.
He just rolls his own eyes in return. “It should be harder to push you. If I can use my finger to make you fall, your stance is flimsy.”
“You can use your finger to make me fall apart any day.”
He ignores you. He walks over to you, ignoring your remarks as he fixes your stance. He nudges one leg further from the other, widening your feet before pressing down on your shoulders to lower you slightly. He shoves you, you stay standing.
“Better. Do that,” he says.
“You're so grumpy,” you mumble.
A chill rushes up your spine and your right cheek flutters with heat. Ducking, you narrowly miss Miguel's fist to your face. “Dude, what the fu–!”
You backflip, landing in a crouch as he went for another attack, this time aimed at your feet. “Always be on guard. I could have knocked you out,” he instructs, still coming toward you.
His webs shoot toward you, and you act quickly as you jump up once again. You flip before planting your feet off a wall and jumping off just as fast to fly over his head. Another web threatens to wrap around your body, you block it with your own web.
Miguel bounds after you. When you land, you shoot your webs at him one right after the other. He dodges them all, nearing you like a colossus. When he's close enough, you flip back again and spring off your hands. Your foot almost makes contact with his face, but he turns just in time to step out of the way, grabbing you midair and throwing you away.
You're about to fly into a wall when you manage to change your position enough to bounce off of it. He isn't fast enough to catch you this time. You hook your leg around his neck and manage to wrap them both there quickly. You squeeze your thighs tight around him. He reaches up to grab you, and you web his face to blind him.
Miguel's hands grip your body, but you tighten your legs around him and lean back with as much force as you can muster. You shoot webs to the floor, gripping them tight to add some strength as you manage to flip him forward. He lands hard on the floor, and you land in a perfect crouch.
He groans at the impact, moving to rip the webs from his face quickly to an attempt to stay on the attack. But while he's distracted, you web his hands to his face and web his foot to the floor, shooting a few extra for good measure.
He rips the webs on his hands almost too easily, breaking free from the restraints. In one swipe, his foot is free. He comes for you immediately, pouncing at a surprising speed.
You roll onto your back, propping your knees to your chest. You manage to maneuver him so he flies past you. He rolls to avoid another hard hit to the floor.
The chill in your spine is just a second too late. His webs shoot at you. You lose your balance as you try to stand, and you fall back in the middle of turning to face him. In the next second, he's on top of you, a hand around your throat and your hands pinned above your head.
His face is inches from your own, his breath heavy and his eyes are nearly glowing red with exertion. “What were you waiting for?” His voice is insistent and rough, high on adrenaline.
A shiver blossoms through you, a rush of pleasantness prickling your skin. Your breath is shallow and quick. As you stare up at him, wide-eyed and also on an adrenaline rush, you smirk. “Do we always end up like this?”
He tilts his head, confusion finding its way to his face. Then he remembers. You're in the training hall, this is just practice, and you're you.
He rolls his eyes, and the adrenaline seems to fade. He doesn't get up. “You're smaller than me, which makes you faster. You can't let down your guard, and you can't slow down for any reason.”
You huff. “Okay, but that kick thing was impressive.”
He stares at you, debating. Then he shrugs, “Wasn't bad.”
Again, you roll your eyes. “Get off me. You're heavy.”
He does, moving to stand and give you room to do the same. “Okay,” you stretch. “Let's go again.”
“No. Go home.”
You straighten your spine immediately, surprise taking your face. “What? No!”
He peels his hoodie off, leaving his top bare as he walks over to the shelf of towels. “Yes. Go.”
You run over to him, blocking his way. “We don't have to train, you know. We could…” You pause to think, clapping when you have it. “We could watch the surveillance systems! I love the surveillance systems!”
He raises a brow, walking past you. You walk with him. “You hate the surveillance systems.”
You pause. “I do hate them. But you'll be there anyway.”
He stops, looking down at you, unamused. He brings his hand to his face, pinching the bridge of his nose with a sigh. “Go home,” he says, looking at you now. “It’s Christmas. You should be…” he thinks for a moment, “out spending time with friends. Not here…looking at surveillance with me.”
You shrug. “Okay, then we can do something else together.”
“Isn’t there some Christmas party for you to go to?” He starts walking. You follow at his side, shrugging again as you nod your head.
“Hobie’s throwing one in his dimension, yeah,” you mumble. “But I’m not there. I’m here.”
He stops again, turning his full body to face you with a raised brow. “Why are you here? Why don’t you just go home?”
You look up at him, swallowing thickly as your gaze slips from his. You sigh, letting the silence stretch a moment too long as you come to terms with saying it. “I have no one waiting for me at home.” Miguel’s stare softens, becoming a little more sympathetic as he processes your words. “And, like you said, it’s Christmas. No one should be alone on Christmas.”
He looks at you again. With a sigh, he shakes his head gently. “You’re too nice to me.”
You smile, accepting his defeat. “I know. Go get your shower. I’ll see you after.”
One day, he'll tell you.
~
Miguel’s shirt swallows you whole as you pull it over your head. It’s huge and gray, and it hangs at your knees , sagging off your shoulder. Your fuzzy socks are pulled up to your mid-leg, silencing your steps as you walk to the side table.
Miguel’s room in HQ is small, almost like a mediocre hotel room—the tiny room with a single bed and drawer (minus the TV) that nearly takes up the whole space, a tiny closet, a tiny bathroom, and a tiny living room with an okay-sofa and a TV. He has a small area for a coffee maker, a fridge, a cabinet, and a microwave, but that’s as much of a kitchen he has. A mediocre hotel room. He has a house, but he doesn’t go there often.
He comes out of the bathroom, steam rising from his shoulders as his white towel hangs low on his waist, He’s still dripping with water, tiny droplets from strands of hair, little tears streaming down his skin. He’s beautiful. You look away from him.
You pick up two DVDs from the side table, turning the cases over in your hands to examine the front. “Okay, so I got these from Movie-Verse.”
“Movie-Verse,” he mumbles, running a hand through his hair as his broad body stands in front of his dresser. He opens the third drawer and grabs the first pair of shorts he sees.
“Yeah, the movie store next to the cafeteria. Has a ton of movies from all the ‘verses.” You wave a hand dismissively, setting one of the cases down and taking the other in both hands. “Anyway, I picked this up. It’s called The Nightmare Before Christmas by some guy named Tim Burton.” You use a mysterious voice when you say the title, stretching the drama. “I think it would be cool.”
He finishes patting dry the water from his skin, tossing the towel onto the bed to pull his shorts on. “Sounds like a Halloween movie.” His tone is flat. He seems almost bored, his face dropped into that grumpy expression he’s taken on.
“Well, yeah,” you shrug, “but it says Christmas on it. Look.”
You toss the case to him. He catches it in one hand effortlessly, his gaze fixed on the drawer he was closing. He examines the front. “There’s a skeleton on it.”
“Doesn’t matter,” you matter-of-factly. “Put it in. We’re watching it.” He does as he’s told. You go to his little kitchenette and pull open the fridge. “Do you like eggnog?”
He’s retrieved his towel once more, rubbing it over his wet hair. His muscles flex with every little movement. Part of you wants to make a sly comment, but you refrain.
“No.”
“Yeah. Me, neither,” you hum. You close the fridge, pulling open the cabinet to retrieve two glasses he has stowed away (one that had already been in his cabinet and one you’d put there for yourself months ago). “I just got wine and hot cocoa.”
He practically grunts as a reply. He sounds uninterested, unimpressed. Your pep sours, and you feel yourself physically deflate as you try and fail to brush off his seeming apathy. You set the glasses down with a gentle click and fidget with the fabric of the oversized shirt.
Your voice is small when you speak, almost embarrassed. “Do you want me to leave?”
He looks up at you then, directing his attention. His brows furrow as he holds the remote in his hand, which dwarfs the “tiny” device. “What?”
You shuffle from one foot to the other, feeling awkward. “I can go if you want… Hobie has that Christmas party, like I said, and… I can just go there if you don’t want me here.” The last part comes out choppy, your lips unwilling to form the words, your mouth reluctant to speak it.
There’s a long pause as he stares at you. His furrowed brows soften, and he takes in the sight of you. You’re wearing his shirt, and it looks huge on you. He can see the outline of your soft panties through the material of it. You’ve got on fuzzy socks, long ones that cover most of your leg and your hair is set free.
You look shy. It’s something he doesn’t see often. You relish in dirty jokes and confident suggestiveness. You’re sarcastic, and you thrive on the sass you hand to him. Even during the times where he has your body in his hands, off on another rendezvous to release stress—his and yours—you still hold that glint of mischief and wit.
You look sad. You look sad and small, and he hates himself for making you look that way.
Miguel’s shoulders fall. He turns his body to face you, taking naturally large steps to stand in front of you. You have to crane your neck just to look up at him, but your disheartedness only allows you to reach his chest before giving up.
He raises a hand to your chin and lifts it just a little more so you can see his face, which he tilts down this time to better view you. He sighs and speaks softly, earnestly. “I want you here.”
You blink once, searching his face as your gaze shifts between his plump lips and his russet brown eyes. “Are you sure?”
He leans forward slowly, giving you time (partially because it’s quite the journey) before gently pressing his lips to yours. It’s far too gentle and far too sweet, but you relish it anyway. They’re gone just as quickly as they came as he pulls away just enough to break the kiss.
“I’m sure,” he says.It almost sounds pleading when he says, “Stay.”
His eyes examine your face for another couple of seconds before he steps away from you, lets his hands fall back down to his side. “I have a blanket you can use.”
You breathe a tiny chuckle out of your nose, effectively reassured by his warm and gentle plea. “Is it big?” you smile, considering his offer.
He shrugs a shoulder, beginning to turn on his heel when he shoots a rare smile at you over that same shoulder. “For you.”
It makes you giddy, your courage slowly returning. “I’m not that small.”
His back turned to you, he continues. “You’re right. You’re smaller.”
You roll your eyes at him, turning toward the counter again. You unscrew the wine bottle to begin pouring. You shake your head as you chuckle a little. “Oh, fuck off.”
He opens his tiny closet and pulls out a cream colored blanket (basically a thin duvet). He picks the remote up again, sitting on the sofa with his legs spread wide. He makes the couch look tiny. “You look even smaller in that. Mujer pequeña.”
You move into a pose, pretending to be sexy. “You like?” You wink comically at him.
He licks his bottom lip. “Are you going to sit?”he asks, avoiding the question.
You giggle to yourself, pouring the dark wine. “You love.” You carry the glasses to the sofa.
He's already started the movie, not that you mind. The music starts, the billowing of wind whistling in the background to set a spooky tone.
“The first song is literally saying it's Halloween,” he comments, lifting his hand from his lap, your feet kicking up and resting on his lap as you pass him his glass. He takes it and spreads open the blanket.
“Ugh,” you roll your eyes, “you make me sick.”
He lifts the glass to his lips. “You chose it.” He takes a sip from his glass, resting his hand on your ankle as his thumb strokes the skin over it.
You both sit and watch the movie in silence. You tuck the blanket closer. You sip tentatively at your cup as you direct your gaze at the screen. You miss the way Miguel's eyes linger on you, his gaze tracing the features of your face: the length of your nose, the curve of your lips. He memorizes the details of your face before he realizes he's been staring too long. He looks away.
Another little while passes of being hyperaware of you before he glances over again, noticing your glass go to your lips as you take a sip. He sighs silently. “Come here.”
You look at him, humming. He waves his hand invitingly, You move the blanket, setting your glass on the table. You sit next to him, snuggling into his side. He reaches over your body as his hand lands on your hip.
Miguel lifts you, pulling your body over his lap to straddle him. Your hands fall to his shoulders. He shows his affection the only way he knows how. He kisses you.
You hum lightly, pulling away from his lips and dipping your head, looking down at his chest instead of his eyes. You smile to cover your discontent as you lower your hands to his waist. “Is this why you wanted me to stay?”
His knuckles trace your cheek. “I want you to stay because, surprisingly, I enjoy your company,” he jokes.
You chuckle half-heartedly. “I'm like that.”
There's more quiet in the next pause as his eyes look over your face. “Why did you want to stay so bad?”
You look at him, biting your lower lip. “I told you.”
He rolls his eyes, chuckling lightly as his hands stroke your thighs, over the curve of your ass. “Yeah, ‘no one should be alone on Christmas’. But, like you said, Hobie’s got his party. You have plenty of friends there.” He glances over your face. “Why aren't you?”
You lick your lip, turning your head away. Another song plays quietly in the background, the sound of sleigh bells and horns and clarinets creating a holiday symphony behind you. You wanna gloat. “Ha, I was right. It is a Christmas movie.”
You sigh gently, the tips of your ears hot and the pit of your stomach fluttering.
“I don't want you to be alone.”
He takes a breath in, inclining his head just a bit as he considers your response. His eyes flutter as he stares at your face, seemingly entranced. You look back at him, unflinching.
“You're too nice to me.”
You smile. “I know.”
“You deserve better than me.”
Your eyes flutter at that and your heart stops beating for half a second. You're warm, and you laugh as you speak, “What's that mean?”
He glances away as he sighs, looking back at you with an expression that's almost pained. His heart is heavy in his chest, and he holds his breath a little when you lift your hands back to his shoulders.
“Don't make me say it,” he almost whispers, his eyes pleading. “Please don't make me say it.”
You hesitate, staring at him as your heart hammers against your chest. Your breath is thin. “Say what?”
“Corazón… I–” he breathes in, his voice reluctant, “–haven't said this in a long time.”
You move your hands from his shoulders to cup his face, making him look at you and taking away his option to turn the other way. If he's going to say it, you need to hear it. You need to be sure. “Said what, Miguel?”
He breathes, staring into your eyes and softening.
Tonight, he'll tell you.
“I'm in love with you.”
Silence strikes the room. The movie plays in the background, long forgotten in both your minds as the quiet and the tension drones on. Your skin prickles, your brain is fuzzy, your mouth is slightly agape.
Miguel stares at you, you do not blink. You stare at Miguel, he does not blink. The silence stretches. He's desperate.
“Please say something.”
“I love you.”
His heart pounds at the confession, but he doesn't believe it. This kind of thing doesn't happen. “N–”
“No. I love you, Miguel,” you promise, leaning closer to his face and holding him a little tighter. “I'm in love with you.”
His mouth crashes down upon yours, a clash of lips and teeth and tenderness and insistence. You moan lightly into his mouth, standing on your knees just enough to get some height on him as you kiss him back just as eagerly as he. Fire burns in your belly, in your face, licking at your flesh. Your hands tangle in his hair and fuel it.
He begins to turn you to lay you on the couch. You press on his chest, encouraging him back so he's on his own instead. His hands fall to your thighs as you straddle his waist, his shorts and your panties the only thing separating the two of you. You bend down against his body to continue kissing him with everything you have.
Miguel whispers your name against your lips, moreso when your hips grind against him. His hands smooth along your skin, dipping under his huge shirt on you to feel your waist with his gentle but insistent touch. Your hands roam his chest, feeling his soft skin over his hard muscles, enchanted by the way he feels under you. He relishes in your touch, hypnotized.
“Your hands are so small,” he mutters, his fingers lightly digging into your sides.
You chuckle lightly, losing your breath as you speak. “You’re just big.”
He smiles against your lips, his hands on your hips moving you slowly up and down on top of him. But, like you said, he’s big. Your hips grind over his belly, but the movement alone is enough to make you moan. You sigh heavily against his lips, pulling back just enough to speak as your brows knit together.
“Miguel,” you breathe. “I need you.”
He nods, reaching a hand to the back of your head to encourage you into another kiss. “I know, baby, I know,” he whispers. He opens his eyes to see you, and he loses his breath at the sight of you: disheveled with desire for him. You open your eyes to look at him, and he can see the way you gaze at him, like he’s everything to you.
His hand slips from your waist, down the length of your body until he’s dipping it between your legs. You bite your bottom lip as you moan at the way his fingers graze the thin fabric covering your pussy. Your whole body shudders at the feeling, and he just watches you react to him.
He rubs his finger teasingly over you, feeling as you slowly become more and more wet as he does. You grind your hips into his hand, eager to feel him. “You want my fingers in you, baby?” he says, his voice low and rough. “You want ‘em to stretch out this little pussy for my cock?”
“Please,” you mewl.
He's weak as he dips his finger underneath your panties and slips it past your folds, working it into you as he watches your lips part at the sensation. You grind against his hand, seeking more of him as his thick finger slowly moves in and out of your warmth. When you're slicked up enough, he slips another one inside. And then a third.
His fingers thrust in and out of you, slowly building in speed as he seeks out your delicious moans, the way your eyes flutter and your tongue darts out to lick your chapped lips.
“So pretty,” he mutters. “Your little moans sound so pretty, querida. I love them.”
You breathe soundly, squeezing around his thick fingers as he curls them inside of you. “Fuck, Miguel,” you moan. “Mm, keep going.”
He does, spreading you open with his fingers as he gets you nice and slick for him. His cock is painfully hard now, restrained by his shorts as it tents them. He feels like he'll explode just watching you. As you continue to grind your hips down on his hand, he shifts his thumb over your clit and begins to rub circles over it. “Mírate. See how beautiful you are, mi pequeña cosa?”
Your breath blows heavily through parted lips. His words play over and over in your head. “I'm in love with you. I'm in love with you. I'm in love with you.” You moan and hold the sides of his face, stroking your thumbs over his cheeks as the pleasure rises within you.
“‘M gonna cum,” you shudder, your pussy clenching around his fingers.
He curls his fingers some more, massaging them inside of you against that spongy spot he knows you adore. “Cum for me, chiquita.”
You do, mouth parting and eyes squeezing as the wave of pleasure washes over you. He feels you tighten and untighten around his fingers, encouraging your spasms by pumping them through it. You moan his name, slowly coming down from the pleasure as your hips jerk at the feeling of his fingers.
He pulls them out of you, bringing you down into another kiss as his lips slide against yours. “You did so good for me,” he sighs, leaning into you as you hum against him.
You pull at his shorts, pushing them down his thick thighs to get them off him. He actually helps you, kicking them off and leaving him bare as you continue to straddle him with his shirt draping low on your body.
You go to take it off, but he stops you, his hand on yours. “No,” he says. “You look perfect in it.”
He set his hands on your hips once more, raising you to hover over his cock. He stops, waiting for you. You want to kiss him again, biting your lip roughly as you whisper. “Please.” You stroke his face, “I need you.”
He’s weak. He can do nothing but comply as he lines you up with him, letting you down just enough to squeeze the head of him inside you. You moan, closing your eyes at the feeling as he holds you steady with a grunt. It’s you who lets him sink deeper inside, grinding your hips against his cock as you make him lower you.
He stretches you out, a delicious stretch you could never grow used to as you moan all the way down. When he’s buried to the hilt with you sitting properly above him, he groans. “Fuck, I love this little pussy,” he grunts. “You always take me so well.”
You huff, catching your breath as you roll your hips slightly, shuddering at the pleasure. “So big,” you mutter, gripping his hips as you give yourself another moment to get used to his size before rolling your hips again. The feeling is electric, sets off a deep hunger in your belly that has you grinding down on him so desperately.
“You like that?” he breathes. “‘Course you do. My tiny girl loves it when I stretch her out like this.”
You roll your hips over him, moaning as his cock presses deep inside of you. His hands slip underneath your shirt, feeling your waist as he helps you grind down on him. Your rhythm is slow and measured, feeling everything. Every little roll, every little squeeze, every little ridge of his cock dragging against your walls.
“Fuck, you’re so big,” you moan again, relishing in him.
He smiles, continuing to watch as you fall apart on top of him. You feel him sit up, one of his hands wrapping tightly around your waist. You open your eyes to look at him, whimpering when he slips his cock out of you.
“Shh,” he says, flipping you onto your back as his massive body towers over you, his size that of a predator but the gentleness of his touch and the care in his eyes that of a man who loves a woman. “I’m gonna take care of you, mi corazón.”
His eyes stay glued to yours when he thrusts back in. Both your moans rumble in your throats as you watch each other. He rocks his hips back and forth inside you, thrusting so deep and pulling out so far before doing it all over again.
He holds onto your tight as he fills you with his cock, so wrapped up in you as you moan and squeeze around him. The pace, still slow, picks up as he thrusts deep within you, grinding against the deepest part of you with a groan in the back of his throat.
You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as you bury your face in his chest. “Fuck, that’s good,” you whisper.
He manages to kiss your forehead, his hand slipping underneath you to encourage his steady rhythm as you continue to clench. His other hand finds your clit, rubbing slow circles over the sensitive bundle of nerves as he builds you up for another orgasm.
You tense, your walls fluttering around him at the feeling of his thumb on your clit. He grunts at the feeling of it, ready to fall apart as he watches you. “I love you, mi amor.” You shudder at the words. “I love your little body. I love your little smile. I love your little eyes. I love your stupid little jokes and the way…the way you care about me too much.”
You cradle his face in your hands, melting at his confessions. “I love you,” he says again, his voice spent and his breath speeding up as you squeeze around his cock and moan his name like a spell.
“Miguel, I…” you moan, the pleasure building into a knot in your stomach as you get ready to explode. You breathe in and you keep breathing in as he presses a little harder on your clit, circles a little harder as you clench him so tight.
Your eyes shut and your lips part as you come, moaning loudly as the ecstasy washes over you like a crashing wave. You roll your hips up into the pleasure, whimpering when he presses himself as deeply inside of you as he can go, grinding and intensifying every little feeling.
Miguel almost collapses on top of you when he cums, dropping his head down and grunting with a heavy breath as he spills inside of you, nearly fucking into you as he does. He moans something under his breath, all his muscles tensing as he keeps pumping his cock into you. You wrap your legs around his waist to pull him in closer.
It’s a while before you both come down, catching your breaths as the pleasure wanes and leaves a pleasant buzz in your bones. He pulls out of you, and you whimper at the sudden emptiness.
He sits up to pull some of his weight off you, though you keep him down by his waist to feel his body still looming over you. He brushes his fingers over your forehead, your heavy eyelids fluttering open.
“Fuck,” you sigh, looking up at him with a sticky smile. You readjust yourself so you can see his face better, taking it in your hands and pulling him down to kiss his lips. The kiss is soft, a gentle embrace as you take your time to pour your care into it.
“I love you, too,” you whisper back at him, kissing him again and then whispering it once more. He smiles. It’s a slow and small smile that spreads over his lips. For a moment, he forgets about all the fears and pains and dangers of love and just thinks about you. How much he loves you. He kisses you again.
“And I was fuckin’ right,” you smile, a gentle chuckle in your chest.
He hums. “About?”
“It is a fuckin’ Christmas movie.”
It takes him a moment to realize what you were talking about. It’s just then when he remembers the movie still playing in the background, another slow song in the background from the one girl that was meant to be a play on Frankenstein’s monster. He doesn’t remember her name, he wasn’t paying much attention.
He laughs. It isn’t a small laugh either. He throws his head and closes his eyes as a loud, booming laugh erupts from his chest and fills the room. It’s so genuine and so electric, you can’t help your own as you join his excitement.
You both laugh for a while, calming down enough for him to kiss you again and say, “You are right.” He takes a breath, staring down at you with a wide smile. “It is a fuckin’ Christmas movie.”
You giggle again, sighing deeply as you pull his weight down on top of you (though he still holds most of it to keep from crushing your tiny body). You hum, speaking in a quiet whisper. “I love you.”
Miguel wraps you in his arms and turns you both around so you’re laying on top of him. He pulls the blanket from where it had fallen on the floor and spreads it over your body, slipping his hand under your shirt so he touches your bare back.
“Merry Christmas,” he mutters, letting out a slow breath. “I love you.”
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Oscar Isaac taglist: @loki-hargreeves @hb8301 @tessarqctt @fanreader @alexxavicry @gublur @katsukis1wife @hatterripper31 @papichulo120627 @anotherblackreader @kmc1989 @the-nerdy-goddess @minigirl87 @woahhajime @notzammm Tag yourself here…
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luveline · 1 year
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if you want, maybe roan is just like doodling around and stuff yk and she draws a typical like family pic but eddie notices that beside the both of them there’s another messily drawn figure and it’s the reader :( <3
HELL yeh ty baby ♡ fem!reader
Eddie's a good dad. Fuck anyone who thinks otherwise, he's good at this shit, and if Roan wants to go get burgers every Friday he's gonna take her. His daughter deserves the world.
Including greasy, messy quarter pounders from Benny's diner.
"What's that one?" Eddie asks, pointing over Roan's half eaten plate with his pinky finger at her drawing, the table between them covered in crayons from her open pencil case.
"This? This'a doggy," she says, like it's obvious and he's the worst.
"I knew that," — he did not know that — "I meant want kind of doggy."
"Oh. That's our dal-dalm-damnation!"
Eddie grins at the idea of a dalmatian named damnation. Fucking sweet. "Dalmatian, babe." He wipes his fingers in a napkin so he can lean over and pick sesame seeds out of her hair and off of her little sweater. "I thought you wanted a St. Bernard. The rescue dogs with the medicine around their neck, you remember?"
She points at the dalmatian's side where she's drawn a cross in red crayon. "He is a rescue dog."
Eddie hums appreciatively and picks up his burger again. But the time he's finished Roan has moved onto a clean page. She sits there tap tap tapping her crayon against the corner.
"What do I draw?" she asks.
Eddie grabs his napkin. "You didn't give me a look at the first one!" he exclaims, stacking her plate on top of his.
Roan struggles. Her sketchbook is a simple plain workbook from Bradley's with thin paper, but the size of it is still heavy in her small hands. She turns back to the page she'd just been decorating and brandishes it against her chest proudly.
"Holy sugar, that's awesome," he praises, and means it. "Is that Princess Peony?"
"The damnation is saving her," Roan says.
"I can see that."
He reaches under the table for his backpack. Inside, he carries around all the bare essentials necessary for successful kid outings — spare clothes, Teddy the pink bear with one ear, a hair brush, hair ties, her rain mac. And, the most important thing, wet wipes.
"Alright, c'mere. Let me wipe that face."
Despite contrary instruction, Eddie walks around to sit on her side of the booth. He does hands first, then crayons caught in the crossfire, then her face. She hates it, but when she was a baby she loathed it. He takes her scowl as an improvement.
"Why don't you draw... Maybe, a new family portrait? We can put it on the fridge like the first one. You can even include your damnation, if you like."
"He isn't real, dad."
"Just draw what's real, then. Can I trust you while I go get drinks?"
She makes a haughty little face that he takes for an eye roll and leaves to get drinks, though he's not really leaving. He's about ten feet away from her at all times and he keeps his eye on her.
He only looks away for what can't be ten seconds, and she's gone. His heart skips as his eyes scour the diner.
"Dad?"
Eddie flinches, his coke tipping over the side and down his hand. "Oh, sh- sugar," he says, kissing his fingers dry. "Babe, you scared me."
Roan stands at his knee with her drawing in hand. She wields it up at him insistently.
"That's for me? Swap?" he asks, offering her a small glass of juice.
Roan takes the juice in one hand. Eddie quickly takes her drawing so she can use both hands, watching the pride as she shuffles carefully back to the table. She doesn't spill a drop.
Eddie shakes out the drawing and sips his coke. The edges are ragged along the top where she's torn it free.
Front and centre is Roan. She's drawn herself with big long eyelashes and a full head of curls, total dad-win, in a huge cloud of pink he assumes is her very best princess dress. To her left is Eddie, same head of curls, long lashes amiss but a huge smile on his face, and to Eddie's left is Wayne. He looks especially dapper, a coffee mug in hand.
It's a great likeness.
And then there's you.
Your hair, your favourite shirt. Roan has drawn you with lovely eyes and a heart next to your smile, messy but so obviously you.
He beams like a fool as he sits down next to her again. She's already turned to a new page in her blook.
"Roan, this is amazing. And... That's Y/N."
"Duh," she says.
"Duh," he repeats, dumbfounded.
He wonders what he's supposed to say here. Telling her you aren't part of their family wouldn't be true. Telling her you are might set a precedent you aren't ready for. He worries it over for a while and takes despondent swings of coke, listening to Roan scribbling furiously beside him.
"Done!"
Eddie looks down. He gawks.
"Baby, is that..."
She points with her crayon enthusiastically. "Tada!"
"It's a castle," Eddie says carefully.
"That's where a princess gets married."
"And that's..."
"That's Y/N!"
There you are. Smiling, a bouquet of blue, red and yellow flowers on bright green stalks in hand. A prince stands beside you in a suit with a bright red scribble across his chest like a sash. The prince also has long, curly hair.
"Where are you?" he asks.
Roan points at a purple blob with black hair in the background. "I'm the flower girl."
Eddie throws his arm over her small shoulders and drops a firm, smacking kiss against her round cheek. "That's where you're wrong, bub. You'd be right next to me, my best girl."
She giggles infectiously at him, his words and breath tickling her face.
"Dad, don't be stupid. It's s'posed to be a man with you."
"Make an exception? Just this once it can be a girl. Pretty please?"
She smiles at him. It's a much older expression than she should have, like she's entertaining his fantasy, like he's the kid. "Okay, dad. I will be the best girl."
Later, when he tells you the story, you get super indignant. His stomach turns to a pit as he worries he's overstepped, but you say, "How is that fair? I want her to be my best girl."
"Maid of honour."
"What's the difference? You got her all this time completely by yourself, and you're not gonna share her on our wedding day?" Your voice drifts off as you dissapear into the bathroom, though he can hear you muttering, "Ridiculous."
He hides his electric blush with a pillow over his face. When you return, you climb half on his chest and force the pillow away to dot spearmint kisses against his pinked cheeks.
-
more eddie and roan (and reader!)
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gaiathemexicanbeauty · 2 months
Text
one finds the other crying
(bingo challenge prompt #3 :D)
pairing: sanji x reader word count: 756 warnings: angst to comfort, sanji but epic, LOTS OF COMFORT
don't ask me what arc this takes place during, just know its pre time skip
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sanji steps onto the going merry with grocery bags in his arms and a cigarette hanging in between his lips, sighing softly and small tendrils of smoke slipping from between them. he'd been out all day wandering the city they'd docked in, making sure to find any new ingredients unique to the area; the crew was never hesitant to try new dishes from their cook even if he brought produce that sometimes had names only he could pronounce. the ship is quiet, everyone seems to be out doing their own thing if the lack of napping crew meant anything. sanji smiles cotentedly: no one to disturb him for his dinner prep just the way he liked it. he makes his way to the kitchen as he hums a small tune to himself, already mentally mapping the meals and side dishes and- and you.
he's about to call your name, a smile already etching onto his face. he never really got the chance to spend some alone time with you considering how nosy the crew (luffy and usopp) were. your back is turned to him and he considers sneaking up on you, a mischievous smile on his face before he hears a sniffle from you. he stops in his tracks instantly, groceries bags crinkling in his arms and making him freeze in place; now he's done it. he's not sure what to expect, but it wasn't this. you jump in the chair you're sitting in, looking over at sanji with wide eyes. your eyes are rimmed a swollen red and glossy, tear streaks down your cheeks. he doesn't seem to have any words, staring at you just the same way you stare at him with bated breath; what happened to you?
"i'm fine-" "are you-" the two of you stop talking, the silence thick between the two of you. sanji isn't proud enough to let it stay. before you can begin to excuse yourself, he's already walked over to you and effectively stopped you from getting up. you look up at him, your cheeks flushing before he outstretches his hand to you. "you don't have to talk about it, but i don't expect you to grovel on your own. let me help you. please." sanji says smoothly, his tone steady but the look in his eyes showing that he won't take no for an answer. you look at his outstretched hand before taking it with a shaky exhale, earning a subtle smile from sanji.
wordlessly, he leads you away from the table and to the stove; you don't need much instruction to realize he's helping you make tea. you aren't lost to the way sanji's hand will graze yours for a moment too long, rub a circle into your back or brush some hair away from your face. for once, you don't swat him away or giggle at him, you let him. his touch soothes you in ways you couldn't even believe, trying not to lean into his touch when you're bringing the teapot over to the table and he touches your arm so softly you could cry again. when the two of you are finally at the table, he sidles up to you with a soft hum, just close enough that his arm touches yours. there's a comfortable silence between the two of you as you blow and sip at your tea, feeling any and all sense of frustration washing away.
"i don't know what's got you down and i'm not gonna make you tell me. but don't try to tough it out on your own. what'd you think, this crew's just here to keep you company?" you look over at sanji who takes a drag of his cigarette away from you, your cheeks warming and a smile forming on your face; "don't go crying on me again, alright? you'll ruin that pretty face of yours." he says with a hum, cigarette hanging between his lips again when he turns to look at you again. before he can say anything more, you lean over and leave a small kiss on his cheek, giggling at the way he goes stiff. he blinks at you before the red rises from his neck to his face almost cartoonishly, his lips parting in shock as you get up and head for the doorway. "thank you, sanji." as soon as you are out of ear shot and away from the kitchen, sanji rises out of his seat and pumps his fists in the air, even doing a little dance of celebration.
◦°˚\(*❛‿❛)/˚°◦
im not gonna lie to yall, i didn't really know how to end this but you KNOW i had to bring in that sanji charm LOLL
PSSTT here's the link to the bingo masterlist to find all the prompts in one spot ;3
next prompt:
accidentally walking in on other character
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hamliet · 23 days
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Do you have any thoughts on how RWBY handled the white fang storyline?
Unpopular opinion: it's decent?
Now, now, before people come at me with pitchforks: yes, it's overly simplified. The entire story is a fairy tale, though, so that's not out of place. It also complements the rest of the story thematically, and manages to incorporate nuance and complexity in despite the simplification of issues.
I think it's a mistake to look at the White Fang as a 1=1 of the real life struggles of marginalized groups. That said, there obviously are parallels, and so people aren't mistaken to note those. I just think it's not meant to be an instructional manual and shouldn't necessarily be viewed as one, but rather a conversation starter in some ways. And yes, those conversations can and should include critiques.
So I'll go over the points that I think it did well and how those ties into real life, but also specifically how they work for RWBY's overall story. This does not negate criticisms, especially those by marginalized groups.
In contrast to some other fictional depictions, RWBY actually is better as well because it avoids the number one pitfall of such issues: the X-Men fallacy. I've talked about this in terms of Attack on Titan before, but essentially it's the idea that the problem with depicting discrimination against superpowered people is that, well, there is a logical reason for people to be concerned about superpowers; hence, it almost justifies that very discrimination it seeks to condemn. This isn't present in the faunus/human divide. They are both capable of superpowers.
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It also doesn't fall into another common pitfall: the idea that people have to be perfect to be victims of discrimination. The White Fang... has senselessly and cruelly murdered people; doesn't mean faunus discrimination isn't also cruel and senseless and doesn't justify it. And this is something that we do see in real life too--people trying to either completely whitewash the actions of radical anti-oppression movements, which can do awful things, or trying to use these awful things as evidence that these people deserve discrimination when really it's a result of rage and desperation at a society that refuses to give them anything. That doesn't justify the pain of the victims of the awful things (see, Weiss) but nor does it negate the righteousness of that anger.
It does portray the faunus as a fairly diverse group too, when fiction often portrays marginalized groups as a monolith. That's not true. People from one group have very different ideas about what liberation looks like, and what they want to achieve. People in marginalized groups are people, and they can be motivated by a variety of selfless principles and egotistical validation, and neither negate the other. See, Sienna vs. Ghira vs. Adam.
Now, of course within RWBY Ghira's more nonviolent principles more or less win out. That's because RWBY is again a fairy tale where you have to fight to live, but that also doesn't endorse violence. If you expected otherwise, wrong genre. Of course the real world is far more complex, but it's not as if there is no real world basis for this either. Peacemakers exist, and nonviolence has accomplished a lot before. Whether or not that's the be-all-end-all of the faunus struggle in RWBY isn't even clear, so I don't think it's intended to be the be-all-end-all preached moral as it applies to the real world either.
Story-wise, the White Fang functions as a Jungian shadow of society. If you do not take charge of your own life, you are letting others decide for you. The faunus who disagree with the White Fang take it back, because they have to acknowledge it to move forward in society. They have to integrate with it, and accept their own humanity: capable of good and what they might rather deny.
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This faction--the faunus who don't like the White Fang--are represented in Ghira, who becomes passive and steps back from aspects of the movement. However, when Blake arrives in Menagerie, this changes, because Blake's entire arc is about integration. Ghira then becomes active, working for the rights of the faunus and for the White Fang to be better rather than simply disavowing the White Fang in an attempt to be a good person, because doing nothing isn't exactly good.
On a more character level, the White Fang exists for Blake's arc. Her Jungian archetype is the Shadow. Like, it's literally her semblance's name. Hence, the idea of the shadow is gonna be important. If you want more on this, @aspoonofsugar has written a meta on it here and another here.
So, for Blake, on a personal level the White Fang (especially under Adam) represents the parts of herself she doesn't like. The part that ran from her family. The part that is violent. And yet, she cannot abandon it or simply disavow it. No, the answer is instead:
We’re not going to destroy the White Fang. We’re going to take it back.
She has to integrate with it, take the good--the righteous anger, the focus on justice and equality.
The White Fang also comments on the microcosm/macrocosm of alchemy.
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For the unaware, RWBY is an alchemical story, and the principles of alchemy are represented in the symbol for the philosopher's stone, as seen above. Microcosm: the smaller circle enclosing two people in the center who come together (hence chemical weddings). The square is the four elements: water, earth, fire, air. The triangle is body, heart, and mind. The larger circle is the macrocosm.
The Shadows for Blake on a personal level--microcosm--is Adam. The Shadow on a worldwide, big picture scale--the macrocosm--is the White Fang. Integrating with the shadow isn't only an individualistic endeavor, but also one that benefits society as a whole and brings life to the entire world. The main point of alchemy's philosopher's stone, which Blake, along with the rest of RWBY, are symbolically being transformed into.
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I think the main issue with the White Fang, by the way, is its handling of Adam. Typically you don't kill the shadow, though I do think Blake kinda had no choice. Still, I don't think the show fully explored him.
Yet what does work with what we have is that Yang has to face Adam, Blake's shadow, to be with Blake. Yang losing her arm to Adam parallels her being upset about losing Blake to fear, because symbolically Blake can hurt her deeply in the way only a lover can. Blake has to stop running from her shadow and allow herself ot be known and seen by Yang to be with her.
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kingslimeball · 2 months
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Sounds like a dream
Part two here
Gator Tillman x fem!reader
Contents; Angst, fluff, mother!reader
Summary; Y/n visits Gator in jail to introduce him to their son.
It's been a long time since Gator was first sentenced to prison. It was even worse for him to begin with, considering he had to deal with it blindly, too. To help, he'd been given a mobility cane, of which he struggled to use it within the first few weeks.
Gator hasn't had many ways of keeping track, but he assumes he's already been locked up for almost two years now. He assumes so because he can visualise the layout of the prison in his mind – he knows where everything is by now. Every day is Groundhog Day, so it doesn't take very long to learn.
What isn't hard to keep track of is the number of visits Gator has gotten. Two. Both from Dot. Both with cookies. Both several months apart. Other than that, nothing. At least she is a woman of her word.
Gator is sitting on his bed in his cell when he hears a loud bang at the bars with a guard's batton. It startles him, and he looks in the general direction to which it came from.
"Oi, Tillman. You got a visitor comin' in. Get up." The guard says. The recognisable sound of the door creaking open echoes through the jail. Gator carefully stands. He reaches out for the guard's shoulder and keeps it there so he can be lead away.
Gator's mind is filled with wonder. Who would be visiting him? Surely not Dot again. She didn't visit too long ago now, and she rarely visits. But it's not like anyone else does.
Gator is instructed to sit at a table, and then he hears the guard walk off. It seems that he's alone in the room. He can't hear a single sound of someone else. Disappointment floods his heart for a moment, his shoulders sinking.
The sound of shoes on the floor brightens his spirits suddenly. He hears someone sit opposite him. Gator feels his excitement come back.
"Hey, Gator." It's Y/n.
Y/n's voice soothes Gator, somewhat. He hasn't heard the sound in so long, yet it's so refreshing. She was Gator's girlfriend. But, when she found out Gator wasn't as good of a guy as she thought he was, she broke up with him. She was one of the last people he saw before his eyes were taken from him. He'll always remember the sight of her, no matter how long passes.
"Y/n? What're you doin' here?" Gator asks softly, not quite believing that this is her.
"Visiting you." Y/n replies.
"I– I know that." Gator pinches the bridge of his nose just below the black-out sunglasses he wears. "But I mean... Why?"
"I wanted to see how you are." She shrugs simply.
"Well, I'm shit, yeah, I'm in jail." Gator scoffs.
"That's not what I meant."
"It's not?"
"No." Y/n responds firmly. "I meant I wanted to see if you've changed. If this this has done you any good."
The truth is, it has. Even losing his sight was enough to flip his whole world upside down. Now, jail has flipped it about continuously like a washing machine. He's not the old Gator anymore. Or at least he's not the Gator that tried to be a Roy. He's the Gator trying to be a Gator.
"I hope so." Is all Gator musters up to say. "How've you been?" He asks.
"Good. I actually moved out to Chicago not long after all that shit happened." She answers. "I got a new job, new friends, the whole lot."
"New boyfriend?" Gator can't help but ask, a hint of jealousy in his tone.
Y/n laughs and shakes her head, but then she remembers that Gator can't see her and quickly tries to verbalise it. "God, no."
"That's a... shame. You deserve someone nice." He tries not to make it sound too forced, but he's more just excited that he still has a chance with her.
"Thanks. I, uh... I brought someone that I'd like you to meet." Y/n finally says, as if she's been debating to go through with this. Gator hears the sound of her rising to walk away, then shortly after start to walk over to his side of the table.
"What's goin' on? Is this some kinda prank?" He questions, sceptical of her behaviour.
"Turn around." She ignores him. Gator huffs and does as told on the bench, spinning around to face where her voice comes from.
"So who the hell am I–" He starts, but stops himself when he feels someone lowered into his lap. A small someone.
"What's this?" He questions. His hand gently reaches to feel whatever is in his lap. He finds a face and quickly repositions his hand, finding hair instead. "I mean, who?"
"Meet your son."
Gator's whole world stops. His heart stops beating, and his brain stops working. His son? When did he ever have a son? He tries to ask her about it, but he just can't get any words out as his mouth gapes open. His bottom lip quivers slightly, and he gently wraps an arm around the small boy, holding him closer.
"My.. My son?"
"Well, our son." She corrects. "I found out I was pregnant after we broke up."
Gator can't help but smile. "Our son.." He murmurs to himself.
Y/n sits next to Gator. She leans her head on Gator's shoulder to get a view of Gator and their son. Gator feels his skin heat up at her being so close, but she doesn't think much of it whatsoever.
"What's his name?"
"Alex. I couldn't think of anything creative, so I just named him after the midwife. Luckily, she had a gender neutral name." She recalls with a soft chuckle.
"Hey, Alex. It's Daddy." Gator softens his voice, looking where he thinks Alex's face will be.
"Daddy..." Alex mumbles, a small hand reaching up to grab at Gator's face. His heart melts, and he smiles widely.
Gator's smile vanishes, although. The sweetness of his son has quickly become something he doesn't know if he could live with. He'll never see his son. His face slowly falls into one of despair.
"Are you okay?" Y/n asks, peering around to study Gator's facial features that she can read from his eyebrows, cheeks and mouth.
"No, no, I'm–" Gator stumbles on his words. He makes a noise, like he's about to speak, but it just comes out as a shaky breath like he's about to cry. "I'm never gonna see my son."
Y/n gently rubs Gator's back. There's not much she can do besides that. She can't give him his sight back. If she could, she would. She feels bad for him.
Gator tries to calm himself down. He slowly relaxes himself, for now, even though he knows this is going to be keeping him up all night. He won't be able to sleep with that thought. It's terrifying. Terrifying that there's nothing he can do about it.
"What does he look like?" Gator questions after a moment of pure silence. He gently pets Alex's hair, enjoying how soft it is.
"Honestly, better than I'd imagined." Y/n answers. "He's got the same shade hair as me. It's all messy. He's got your eyes and your nose. Freckles. The cheekiest, cutest smile you'd ever see."
"He sounds like a dream." He says, voice wavering as his hand gently combs through Alex's hair.
"He is. He reminds me of you in a way." She chuckles. "Because, he–"
Vzzrt!
The buzzer for the end of visiting.
Gator finds himself sitting on the edge of his bed. His mind is still on Y/n and Alex. She was about to say something good about him. He knows it. Surely she wouldn't badmouth their young son, so surely he's onto something here? Gator wishes he had just a few more seconds to hear what she likes about him. Or to hear more about his son. Maybe next time...
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kissofthemis · 9 months
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Hello, may I request headcanons for the NXX boys when they hear reader (who isn't mc) that usually only addresses them by their last name calls them by their first name for the first time, while giving a heartfelt compliment with the softest and sweetest expression?
Bonus if they're normally shy yet silly in general. Another bonus is if they did it without realizing it and immediately fluster when they realise what they did, and puff their cheeks when in denial when called out upon.
Thank you!
"Thank you so much! Luke, you're a lifesaver!"
A wave of relief washed over you as Luke repaired the final piece on your drawer. You still weren't sure how you'd ripped the cabinets clean off their hinges, but all that mattered was that your friend Mr. Pearce, antique repairer extraordinaire, had come to your rescue.
Mr. Pearce.
Luke Pearce.
You hadn't realized how casually his name had slipped out of your mouth until it was too late. "I... Um... Mr. Pearce! Thank you!"
Humbly you bowed your head. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, and you could only imagine how much you resembled a boiling lobster right about now. Cautiously, you tilted your chin up just enough to get a peek at the brunet's face, only to find...
That he looked just as flustered as you.
His gaze darted to the floor. "L-Luke..." He stumbled over his own name, and you could have sworn you saw him bite his tongue in his own embarrassed frustration. "Luke is fine. Great, actually." He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Because... we're friends, aren't we?"
His eyes flickered back to you, aglow with the warmth of a fireplace but the intensity of a bonfire.
"At least, I've been trying to put down clues that show you I consider you a dear friend."
~♡~♡~♡~♡~
"You tend to these all by yourself? I can tell how much love you pour into your garden, Vyn!"
Awestruck by the vast array of flora and foliage before you, the words fluttered from your lips before you had a chance to truly think about them.
Of course, you meant what you said! When Dr. Richter had invited you to see a garden, you were excited at the prospect of going to fancy botanical gardens. When he mentioned it was his own personal garden, a healthy dose of curiosity sprouted alongside your eagerness to see his home. Now, upon seeing how beautiful his "humble" garden was, you were impressed and delighted.
But as a moment passed without any response from the gardener himself, you began to worry that you'd said something inappropriate. "Don't tell me, is Dr. Richter bad with prai--"
You clapped your hands over your mouth and began bowing rapidly, bobbing up and down and up and down.
"Dr. Vyn! I mean, Dr. Richter! I'm so sorry! That was super informal and super rude of me! Oh, Dr. Richter, I can't apologize enough!"
A gentle hand came to rest upon the top of your head, stopping you in your tracks.
"Now, while I'm qualified to treat them, I'd appreciate if you didn't give yourself a concussion from whipping your head up and down so many times." He chuckled softly as you rose to a full standing position again, then gave you a gentle pat.
"Raised them with love, you say?" he murmured. "I don't know if I'd put it that way. I'm simply following standard guidance and instructions for each and every species of flower." He pursed his lips for a second, then continued. "But if tending to flowers is anything like tending to people in need of tender love and care..." He turned to look at you, and his golden eyes glinted in the sunlight.
"Then I'm sure you have quite the green thumb yourself."
~♡~♡~♡~♡~
"This is the best grilling I've ever tasted in my life, Artem!"
You had barely spared a second to sing the attorney's praises before digging back into your meal.
When you'd fallen ill with the latest seasonal flu, you had messaged him as a courtesy to let him know you wouldn't be able to meet him this weekend as planned. You certainly hadn't expected the star of Themis Law Firm to offer to bring you some food. You were less prepared when he said he was going to cook it himself, asking for your favorite foods and flavors.
Least of all did you expect his food to be so delicious!
'Never judge a book by its cover,' you thought as you devoured another spoonful. 'I just didn't expect Mr. Wing of all people to have the time to learn to cook so well!'
You peeked up at him, concerned that he hadn't responded yet. He probably wasn't the type who received compliments often; he seemed like the type who intimidated others. Respected, but never appreciated in this way.
"Your cheeks are really red. Are you catching a fever from me?"
Wildfire had spread across his face, from the tips of his ears to the tip of his nose. If he got sick because he was taking care of you, you'd never forgive yourself!
"You... perhaps need more rest," is all that he said in response. "But..." He smiled gently at you.
"If a flu is what it takes for you to loosen up around me, I can't truthfully say that I'm upset about it."
~♡~♡~♡~♡~
"You designed this? Marius, you're a creative genius!"
Your jaw dropped as you absorbed the details in the painting before you. The effect was almost reminiscent of a stained glass window, with the way the colors and strokes created a mosaic image. You could easily see this hanging up in a museum or even a church.
But like a dog who received one treat and was desperate for more, the painter turned to you with big, pleading eyes and whimpered, "I couldn't hear that. Could you repeat it, please? For me?"
He wasn't usually this pathetic. "I said you're a creative genius!" You folded your arms over your chest. "Don't make me take back the genius part."
"No, no~ Before that."
Before that? What exactly had you said that brought this CEO to wag his tail so desperately?
Realization struck you like lightning and you spun away from him instantly. "Mr. von Hagen, it's very unprofessional to tease me like this!"
You could almost feel the mood shift as Marius deflated behind you. "Aww, you were being so friendly a minute ago," he whined. "Even calling me Marius~ Marmar~ Mariri~"
"I didn't use any stupid nicknames!" you protested, whirling to face him with flustered tears stinging your eyes. "You're such a pain in the neck, Marius!"
He perked up immediately. "Oh! There it is again! We are close, aren't we?" He leaned forward, the corners of his mouth turned up into a cheeky grin as he batted his eyelashes at you.
With a huff, you shifted your attention back to the painting. "On second thought, I think this is too abstract for the exhibition. I guess Pax can't host it after all."
"Whaaaat? Now that's just too cold!"
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fresne999 · 5 months
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Half way through the journey of our analyses
I feel like roughly half of the analysis I'm reading about OFMD S2 is folks who clearly fixated on a character (it's Izzy, it's always Izzy that inspires this kind of analysis) write analyses that cause the 2nd response of, "Um…did you ever study literary analysis in school."
Now I come at this from a slightly odd place in that I did study literary analysis in school (30+ years ago) where I learned it's possible to interpret anything about any way, because we're all bringing different lenses to the analysis. Which isn't to say that an author can't have an intended interpretation. 
Dante in Canto V of Inferno (Divine Comedy) would still like folks to understand fixating on the two damned-lovers and ignoring the details that the artist is putting in there for you to catch about how they are damned because they won't change the toxic patterns that got them there in the first place. Also, they can't because they are in hell, and hell is like that. That Dante-the-writer had Dante-the-character swoon over those same two damned-lovers (because Dante-the-character is on a journey of moral correction) is hilarious, but doesn't make it any less the point of that section of the work, but I digress.
As a career, I am very aware that folks love to misinterpret what is meant to be very clear instructions. Of course, I'm writing policies and procedures, which is a bit different from writing fiction, and is worlds away from creating a t.v. show. But that's the life experience that I always bring to literary analysis. Frequently, people choose their interpretations to fit what they want to see, and that's part of being human.
I've seen a fair number of folks interpret Izzy's redemption arc in S2 as one of a queer man struggling with disabilities and mental health issues whose struggle is made meaningless by his demise. Which sure, you could interpret it that way and in that it's coming from I'm sure an emotional place, I get it. And hmmm… I might give this interpretation more credence  if I hadn't read a lot of Izzy analysis for S1 that was wildly different than the text.
So let's take a step back. 
First, know the rules of the literary universe: OFMD is a show where the reality is not ours. It is either the Core Universe or something very close to it. BTW: If you've never heard of Core Universe or read the seminal BtVS+HtLJ "When Hellmouth's Collide" (https://www.ltljverse.com/index2.htm), a Core Universe is one where everything lines up. Row boats are magic, and where there is a Badminton, he will accidentally stab/shoot himself. 
Terminology more befitting of that fancy literature degree might be to say that OFMD functions along the logic of Magical Realism. Characters will appear briefly for the purposes of the story and then disappear not to be mentioned again (Nana, Calico Jack, Mary Read & Anne Bonny). Things align because they are meant to align. It is a universe where the Gravy Basket is a real place, and meant to be taken seriously.  It's also a universe where a man may become a seagull, because he loves the sea. You change for love, but the ways you change may be positive or toxic. 
They can result in a bird that never gets to know rest. Always flying over the sea. Or they lead to becoming a bird, who can float in the sea or land on a unicorn's leg. 
Transformation. 
Anyway, S1 - Stede commissioned a ship with secret passageways. It did not have a buxom mermaid on the prow, nor something more befitting a ship named the Revenge. He commissioned a unicorn prow and went off to become a pirate. 
A not particularly violent pirate. But a pirate who didn't have a problem with the violence of piracy. See Stede telling Lucius (hardest working man on the ship in S1) to take notes during a violent raid where the show's logo was literally carved into the chest of a dead man. 
BTW: The tone about violence is darker in S2, but the violence was there in S1. It was just presented in a more whimsical way. The nose jar was full of noses in S1. We heard about Blackbeard's violence. A man was skinned alive off screen, but we focused on the Prussian (but also sort of French) party. 
What Izzy needed to be redeemed from was established in S1. The problem is that folks who interpreted Izzy as a) the central focus of the show and b) a put upon manager just trying to do right by his crew (or as one Tumblerina referred to him as the man/father of the family going out to hunt - excuse me while I vomit - and support his family as men must do), are not going to understand what Izzy's S2 arc was all about. 
Ed and Stede are the main characters in a romantic story. There are other characters with their own arcs, but they are the main characters.
In S1, Stede created a safe space where characters had a chance to breathe for the first time. Possibly ever, and as a result revisited parts of themselves they'd lost. Wee John got back in touch with his roots as the son of a seamstress. Frenchie got back to what he loves, scamming the rich. The Swede sang like a siren of the sea, because it doesn't always have to be scary. 
Ed had his first good time in years. After expressing suicidal ideation to Izzy because of his terminal boredom in S1.E4 - Discomfort in a Married state, Ed found himself some balance. Some sweet marmalade. 
Ed and Izzy were in a toxic relationship that only reinforced their toxic behavior. And yes, I'm going to overuse the word toxic. While piracy is a place where you can go be yourself and shag whoever you want (whatever happens at sea stays at sea), it's not a place where you can be soft. Gentle. Emotionally open. Available. 
Ed's only path out that he could see at the time was to plan to skin the face of the man who built a ridonculous boat with a unicorn on the prow and wear it for the rest of his life. A plan to send Stede to Doggy Heaven. 
BTW: This is why Izzy uses the line in S2.E3 - the Innkeeper, that they put Ed down like a mad dog, so that Stede could reply that they sent Ed to Doggy Heaven. Reiterating this concept of piracy as violence, as taking away faces / identity / lives, but also losing one's own. Forgetting even what day of the year it is. Also revealing that Stede knew about Ed & Izzy's plan to murder him, send Stede to doggy heaven, and had moved on. 
This is also why the respite in S2.E4 - Fun and Games is so critical. Mary Read/Anne Bonney are portrayed as direct parallels to Stede/Ed. They are selling what are, no doubt, the spoils of their piracy. But they've chosen a remote location with no community, but each other and a life where they are not actually communicating. Which on its surface is where Ed and Stede end up, and yet…the Revenge can sail back. They are on the shore facing the sea, not in a jungle lost from a clear view. I'll quote the relevant Dante in just a bit, never fear.
Ed and Stede's new inn has the potential for a solid foundation, because the unicorn has been planted firmly in the ground, and if we get an S3, I firmly expect the unicorn leg to have transformed into a tree, because I've read a lot of medieval literature and that's how that sort of thing works. 
Well, it could be a penis tree (this was a thing in medieval marginalia), but somehow I don't think it will be. 
 But I'm getting a little ahead of myself.
Back in S1, the plan to murder Stede and take his identity broke down despite Izzy trying to perform an intervention to get Ed back into the toxic soup, and ended with Ed curled up in a bathtub and opening up about murdering his father. An image the show chose to flash on the screen multiple times in S2 just in case folks forgot that this was a traumatizing event for Ed, and was itself the culmination of years of traumatic abuse at his father's hands. 
Just as Stede kept flashing back to the moment his father tells him what it is to be a man, and kills an animal, the blood splashing on Stede's wee little face. 
That this is the point of the show. Transforming past trauma. It's there. You always carry the scars. Sometimes, you decide to tattoo yourself with the image of the thing you fear, and then the thing you fear is always there, but you've got to keep moving forward. To stay in one place, to stay trapped in the same emotion/action, is hell. I've read a lot of lit crit of Dante's Inferno. Trust me, it's the same thing.
Izzy's redemption arc is firmly based in the events of S1E6 - Here Dragons Be, because it's where the pustule of his relationship with Ed breaks. His attempted intervention fails to get Ed to kill Stede, so Izzy tries to kill Stede. Not realizing that a) Stede is a main character and b) this is a Core Universe show. Where it's possible to win a duel by being stabbed in the left side of your gut and stay there for many hours and not die. So he loses the 1 thing that defines him, his job. 
Izzy's redemption arc is firmly based in the events of s1E8 - We Gull Way Back, where he enlists Calico Jack to lure Ed off the boat (with all the toxic masculinity that entailed) so that the British could show up and shoot the head off the unicorn, and kill Stede. So Izzy can crawl back into his old patterns / job / life. 
Izzy's redemption arc is firmly based in the big drama confrontation in S1E10 - Wherever You Go There You Are, when as a person whose entire identity is tied up in being Blackbeard's First Mate and after realizing that he couldn't cut it as a captain on his own, he does whatever the f- he can to get Ed back into the toxic soup so he can get his old role/job back.  
This isn't to say that Ed's off the deep end actions in S2.E1&2 aren't his own choices. He is a main character. His emotional arc is one of the driving forces of the show. But they are the choices of a man who wants to die. After a lifetime of violent action that had been increasingly drowning him, he wants to die in the violence of battle, but the enemy are never good enough. He wants Izzy to kill him, but Izzy won't. Until he does…sort of. He wants to die in a storm. He's carving notches on his wall hoping to lure Ned Low to him so that he can die in pain. But Ed is the devil and does not die.
Except Ed's not the devil. He doesn't have a head made of smoke. He's a man. Not a fisherman. Not a fisher of men, and what an interesting attempt to go Christ himself off into the wilderness only to be fired for not being that good at it, and then receive his letter from the deep. 
Because in a show full of magical realism, the bottles with messages will reach the intended recipient eventually.
"In the middle of the journey of our life, I came to myself in a dark wood for the straight way was lost. Ah, how hard a thing it is to say what that wood was. So savage and harsh and strong, that the thought of it renews my fear. It is so bitter that death is little more so. But to speak of the good that I found there, I will tell of the other things I saw…and like one with laboring breath comes forth from the deep onto the shore, who turns back to the perilous water and stares, so my spirit still fleeing turned to gaze upon the pass that has never left anyone alive." Dante, Canto 1, Inferno. 
Instead of dying, Ed goes not to Purgatory (sorry I'd quote the opening lines, but Inferno actually works better here), but to the Gravy Basket, where he confronts the spirit of Hornigold. Dead spirit. Aspect of Ed's self. Both. Neither. Hated. Self. Unkillable. 
Is saved by a goldfish incarnation of Stede. 
But just as the imaginary as Stede's vision of what / who he thinks he needs to be for Ed, this is not true. Life being what it is, Ed and Stede rush when they need to go slow. They break apart because they are saying words, but the other person is hearing based on their own interpretation. 
BTW: The clue Dante-the-writer gives the reader in Canto V of Inferno is how one of the damned lovers, Francesca, explains how she hooked up with her brother-in-law, Paulo. She describes reading an Arthurian romance. She and Paulo kissed when Gwenevere and Lancelot kissed in the story. Except the version they are reading (and Dante tells the reader which version this is) was intended as a cautionary tale. Also, Paulo and Francesca were real people who were murdered by Francesca's husband when he caught them together. So there is that too.
I always like it in fiction when characters misinterpret each other because they hear based on their life experiences and don't hear the things that are said/unsaid based on the life experiences of the other person speaking. That's good writing. It's also how we end up with wildly varying interpretations of works of fiction.
But I digress.
Izzy's S2 arc is that he must let go of his relationship with Ed and turn to others. He must learn to let go of toxic masculinity and let in softness. Not weakness. Water is not weak, but it is soft. Calypso, goddess of the sea, is not weak. Her birthday is whatever day you need it to be. She is vast and deep and soft and relentless. 
In Ro-sham-bo, it's a shame that there is not a gesture for water. Because it is not paper that defeats stone, but water that wears away the stone. Of course, scissors wouldn't do much to water either, so that would sort of break Ro-sham-bo, so I suppose it must stay as it is.
It is through a craft's project that the crew of the Revenge find healing. Turn Izzy into the unicorn. A unicorn that Izzy's own actions caused to be decapitated with a British cannon ball in S1. That Izzy rendered legless (drunk). But the Revenge is a boat. They just need to swim/sail. It is through a craft's project that Izzy is able to offer healing to Lucius, who in turn is then able to turn their art away from fixating on Ed, and the trauma that he's been through and back towards love, and Black Pete. 
But it's not possible to see Izzy's S2 arc, if you didn't interpret S1 Izzy as needing to go through his own gravy basket. 
That Izzy dies because his transformation is necessary. He can't leave Ed, and if he doesn't leave Ed, then Ed can't stop being Blackbeard. The kracken. He literally tells Ed this as he chooses to transform. To free the world of Blackbeard, so Ed can be Ed. Yet, I've read so many posts by folks saying, "But why did he have to die?" Which sure, you can choose not believe what the character says while dying.
Which is a narrative privilege. To get a good dying speech. "There he is" get to be transmutted from an attack to an actual seeing. The larger than life concept of a smoke headed pirate can waft away.
Stories are hard to kill. They live on long past us, and as long as someone is remembered, especially in a universe like OFMD, we live. 
Though always reject the gift of a clock. That's someone telling you that you've only got so many hours left of life. If you are a character in a story. 
Thus the other parallel in this season is Izzy to Auntie and Ed to Zheng Yi Sao. Auntie must allow Zheng softness. Izzy must go through a sea change to something new and strange. Also, this would be a case of Doylistically the writers needed to line up Olu with Stede for that to work, and thus the new configurations of Olu and Jim's relationship, which, shrug, could be poly. Could be friends to lovers to friends.  Woulda, coulda, had more time, but that's on Max for not giving us 2 more episodes.
Prince Richard was trying to become a concept, but was too in love with the mechanics of it. Stede was trying to become a concept too. Found his fame, and all too quickly the toxic end of that particular route. Magical Realism was on his side until he tried to face down Zheng Yi Sao, the Queen of Pirates, and then the rules of the story weren't. Because those clocks were ticking. Everyone was in a very dark wood. The memory of blood splashed on Stede's face as a little boy was a warning. It was a reminder. It was the wrong lessons we take from our childhood and must unlearn to become whole.
Having the final shot of the show being Buttons landing on the unicorn leg as a reminder that this is a show about transformation. One thing becoming another thing. Somewhere the dead are dancing in Calypso's court. A dance below the sea and on the sea and with the sea. While the living keep sailing on their magic ship to do…I don't know. 
Because the Golden Age of Piracy is coming to an end. They'll go create new worlds and new places to be. Transforming.
If we get no more of the show, this is a resolution.
Since I've been quoting Dante, I'm going to end this with the final vision in Paradiso. Because folks who haven't been reading my analysis for the last 30 years / read it, may not realize that the Divine Comedy (a story that begins in sorrow and ends in joy) ends with the vision of a 3 way rainbow. 
"In the profound and shining Being of the deep Light, three circles appeared, of three colours, and one magnitude: one seemed refracted by the other, like Iris’s rainbows, and the third seemed fire breathed equally from both. O how the words fall short, and how feeble compared with my conceiving!…Power, here, failed the deep imagining: but already my desire and will were rolled, like a wheel that is turned, equally, by the Love that moves the Sun and the other stars."
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alina-awen-writes · 4 months
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Sebek x GN!Reader, Soulmate AU
Prompt: You have your soulmate’s first words on your body
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When classmates asked Y/N about the one thing from the realm of Twisted Wonderland that shocked them the most, many thought it would've been magic, talking animals, overblots, ghosts, or flying brooms. 
No, for Y/N, it was the fact they had a soulmate. The initial shock and hope for what their future soulmate might be like only lasted a few minutes
"HOW DARE A HUMAN BE SO CASUAL? ESPECIALLY WITH THE PRINCE OF BRIAR VALLEY"
Yep, that is the sentence that had etched itself onto Y/N's wrist as soon as the coffin opened during the initiation ceremony. It was in a rather nice cursive handwriting, but unfortunately written in all caps. According to the other students, that meant their Significant Other would be yelling during their first meeting.
On the bright side, Y/N was able to narrow out which dorm their soulmate was in. Heck, judging by the wording, they were pretty sure they figured out exactly who their soulmate was.
While they hadn't had an official first meeting yet, Y/N had heard plenty of rumors and the distant sounds of Sebek's speeches. It also helped that Hornton would occasionally mention him during the nightly strolls about the school grounds for Golem Club.
The only thing left to do was for Y/N to work up the courage to actually go and speak with Sebek. Which was practically impossible seeing as he was always busy with schoolwork and all his extracurriculars were focused on being one of Malleus' knights. On the bright side, they did share a few classes together. One of which was Professor Crewel's potions, the very class Y/N was currently zoning out in. 
Their head shot up when there was a sudden loud smack on their desk "Now, now little pup. I just gave very important instructions for your next potion only to find you didn't listen to a single word. Make sure you do your best, otherwise, you'll end up in detention and back in training school. " Crewel stated with a sharp look at Y/N, "Now then, since you weren't listening I'll only repeat this once. Your partner is Sebek and your potion assignment is due next week." With that final statement, Crewel walked back to his desk. 
With that stressful callout being over, little dog tags with classmate names flew around the room, each landing with the assigned partner. Y/N looked down at the tag as it landed on the desk and sighed as it confirmed what Professor Crewel had said. With a quick glance over the shoulder, they could see Sebek practically glaring holes through the back of their jacket.
While they hadn't interacted much, Sebek still wasn't a huge fan of Y/N's for a few reasons:
Y/N isn't Malleus
For some reason, beyond Sebek's comprehension, Y/N has managed to befriend Lilia and Silver
Y/N just made him feel off, which is obviously a huge reason why Y/N should never be within 100 feet of Malleus' proximity
Once again, Y/N isn't Malleus
After a few moments of preparation, Y/N gathered the potion books and decided to take the first step in talking to Sebek. However, when they turned to say hello, they noticed the knight had already disappeared. 
With a small sigh, Y/N headed out and began the trek back to Ramshackle. Right as they took a left down a hallway, they bumped into someone's back.
"Oh, I'm sorry!" Y/N exclaimed while trying to make sure the other student didn't drop anything.
"It's quite alright Y/N. I hadn't expected to see you until our club meeting later tonight." Hornton stated with his signature small grin as he steadied Y/N.
"Oh, it's just you Hornton! Thank the sevens, I was worried I might've bumped into one of the Pomefiore kids doing a quick touch-up. That definitely would've ended badly." Y/N laughed, followed by a sigh of relief that they had only bumped into Hornton. Right as they were about to ask him about his day, there was a sudden yell from directly behind them.
"HOW DARE A HUMAN BE SO CASUAL? ESPECIALLY WITH THE PRINCE OF BRIAR VALLEY!" Sebek yelled as he charged down the hallway towards Y/N and Hornton.......well Malleus.
Malleus simply raised an eyebrow and gave a small frown at the fact that Sebek had blown his cover, yelled at one of his few friends, and had also said that Y/N talked to him casually.
"His royal highness must be treated with high esteem at all times! Especially by those who are commoners or simple humans!" Sebek continued with his rant for a solid minute. 
The entire time, Y/N slowly got more and more annoyed at all the insults that were about how they were a human and a commoner. The final straw was the comment about how Y/N wasn't even from Twisted Wonderland and thus shouldn't have the audacity to even be near Malleus. Y/N took two simple steps forward, putting them practically chest-to-chest with Sebek, resulting in making him pause, stutter, and blush.
"Do you EVER know how to talk about anything or anyone other than Malleus?" Y/N questioned in a clipped tone, which quickly changed to yelling, "I should've known since I've had THIS etched on my wrist since I walked out of that coffin!" 
Y/N waved their wrist in Sebek's face, showing him the very words he had yelled only a few minutes prior, "But hey, at least my sentence gave me a warning about how rude and loud you are! Got the red flags about your volume level since it's in all caps!"
With a final huff, Y/N immediately turned around and stormed down the hallway. They muttered a quick apology to Malleus as they passed by and took a random hallway to make a quick escape. With each step, the slow realization of what had just happened slowly sunk in. 
Y/N's angry stomps from the stunned Sebek soon turned into a quick sprint back home. Their only thought was that the faster they were home, the sooner they could curl up in bed and try their best to forget everything that had just happened.
Within no time, they were about ten steps from the front door. However, right as they felt the wave of relief wash over, they heard loud footsteps and yelling from behind.
"WAIT! Would you stop your measly human running speed and wait for a moment! We are not done with our conversation!" Sebek yelled as he dashed up the pathway at max fae speeds. What had taken Y/N 10 minutes to sprint, he completed within half the time. Once he had reached Y/N, Sebek slowed to a halt and immediately held their shoulders. 
"I'm sorry! I was jealous you were close with his highness because I had wanted to find a way to become friends with you as well. When you first joined his club, I watched from the background to ensure you weren't trying to trick or influence him...but I ended up growing feelings for you." Sebek said softly, all while slowly moving his hands from Y/N's shoulders to gently hold their hands.
"It wasn't until today that I realized those weren't just friendships. Y/N, I've been falling in love with you. I understand if you don't forgive me and never wa-", Y/N knew Sebek would continue his apologetic rambling for another 30 minutes if he had the chance, so to cut him off they leaned over and silenced him with a hug. 
"Just promise me you'll never speak to me, or any other human, that way again," Y/N muttered into Sebek's shoulder as he gently wrapped his arms around their waist. 
"You have my eternal vow. I'll never say anything that could insult or harm you, for the rest of my days in this realm and the next" Sebek said solemnly. 
Y/N just smiled, before looking up and pressing a kiss to Sebek's cheek. "Alrighty, since we've made up, wanna come inside so we can start on the assignment?" they asked as they tugged the blushing fae into the Ramshackle dorm. 
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obscenely-overdue · 1 month
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[OOC] Weighted Pregnant Belly Instructions
Hi everyone! For those interested, I've jerry-rigged a method to pad/simulate/wear-a-fake-pregnant-tummy-for-kink-purposes with some real weight and firmness to it that I think people would like! It works very well for me but is also functionally a prototype/first pass at the idea, so there are certainly areas that it could be improved. (which is me saying "experiment and improve upon this, we can make it better!")
I'll preface this with the fact that, if you pay full price for everything involved, assuming you have NONE of it to start, it's probably about $120. That said, about $20-25 of that comes from a specific kind of pillow and blanket, which you very well may have, which would bring it realistically down to $100, and some of it is stuff which can be bought on sale pretty easily, which would land you in the neighborhood of $80. Again, it isn't cheap, but it has something not even a fancy Roanyer tummy has:
WEIGHT and BULK
It's also made of inconspicuous or otherwise easily hidden items, so if you have roommates or family who could see this stuff, it's great at being tucked away or hiding in plain sight. If you're curious, I have pictures, a shopping list, and step by step instructions, as well as some further tips and info. It's pretty long so I'm putting it under a cut...
Let's get started!
What you'll need:
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One piece of fully body shapewear (the mauve one on top) and one piece of "tummy tuck" shapewear (black on the bottom). The full body one is about 2 sizes too big for what it's meant to do normally (so for me, an XXXL. This is the same shapewear I use for my squishmallow tummy for RP blog pictures), and the tummy tuck one is the "correct" size for my body (XL). The tummy tuck one gives you all the support, so you don't want it too oversized. DON'T GO UNDERSIZED EITHER as what we're going to load this up with is gonna cause some compression, and too much pressure on your abdomen can be harmful. When in doubt, go at your size or maybe one size bigger, but no farther. Both of these run $20-30 a piece at a target but also can be found on sale for $10-20. Target is going to charge you more than Walmart, and it doesn't have to be top of the line.
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One soft, round pillow. This is like a $6 pick up from Walmart. It's not just soft from it's fabric, but it's specifically not firm to the touch. It's all give and is very malleable. Technically you could use a regular pillow too, but this being roughly disk shaped helps it do its job as basically the "lower belly" that keeps the weight from shifting too low.
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An averaged sized blanket. Softer materials that fold and bunch up easier are preferred. You PROBABLY already have something that will work for this, but if you don't, again, Walmart will charge you like $15-20 for one.
And finally...
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A 20 lbs kettlebell. This BASTARD is the single most expensive thing you'll need, and unfortunately is required if you want it to be properly heavy. This one came from Target, and ran me $55. You might think you want to go heavier, but trust me, this thing has all the heft you'll need. If you really want to, you could feasibly go for a 25 lbs. one, but those are even more expensive. The kettlebell shape is important because it's mostly round, unlike a dumbbell, so we can wrap it up and use it for a reasonably pregnant-shaped belly. A dumbbell of this weight might be a little cheaper, but if you're already going to drop $40 on an oddly shaped weight, another $15 so it can fit the tummy shape is worth it.
Putting it on:
[DISCLAIMER: If at any point something HURTS while putting this thing on or while wearing it, safely but quickly remove it. The weight is supposed to be cumbersome and a little uncomfortable for the fantasy of it, but if anything HURTS, something is wrong, and you need to take it off. If you lay on your back with this thing on for too long, get ready for ab muscle aches, possibly the next day, as your tummy will be supporting 20 lbs of external weight just pressing on it, and those muscles don't get used unless you work out. I've never worn this thing overnight to sleep, but I don't advise it, as extended period of compression can be harmful. Same logic as to why AFAB people who don't want visible boobs shouldn't bind for too long.]
Start by putting on the fully body shapewear, and then putting the tummy tuck shapewear over that. The fabric under my shapewear here is my sports bra, which isn't part of the belly process.
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Next you're going to load the soft, round pillow into the full body shapewear. It's going to kind of fold in on itself and that's not an issue, if anything it gives a nice little landing zone for the next thing we're going to add.
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Don't fight trying to get the pillow under the tummy tuck shapewear, right now just roll it down to your waistline under the pillow bulk like so.
Next you'll take your blanket, lay it out, set the kettlebell inside of it, and wrap/bunch it up. You want it something approximating 'round', making sure the kettlebell isn't going to roll/fall out when you pick it up.
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Next, you load the wrapped up bastard in, setting it on top of the pillow. The kettlebell is going to shift, and try to sink deeper, that's fine, just maneuver it so it sits on the pillow, allowing the pillow to spread the weight more evenly.
Before you pull up the tummy tuck shapewear, it's going to look like this, notice how the bottom of it is lighter because that's all pillow, with the blanket over top.
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Now comes of trickiest/most strenuous part, you gotta pull out the tummy tuck shapewear and get it out and around the bulk of your "tummy". You'll have an easier time if you pull the back part up a little first, so it's not fighting you, which you can see in the above photos. If anything starts to hurt during this process, stop and take it out, because likely something is too tight or too heavy.
Once the tummy tuck shapewear is pulled all the way up, it should look about like this, and you're loaded up and ready to waddle!
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Notice how much more contained it all is? It's not spilling off of me anymore, it's firmly held against me. Now, just top with your favorite maternity shirt!
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Or don't!
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Now, clearly, it doesn't LOOK very pregnant. It's lumpy and awkward and it'll come out downright lopsided your first few times. But this isn't for taking pictures for an RP blog, this is for simulating something close to the feeling of carrying something heavy like a pregnant belly around. For those of us who can't or don't want to actually get pregnant, this is a decent approximate that's reasonable to buy and easily hidden. This is for nights after everyone else is in bed or you're home alone, and it can be a LOT of fun.
Great, now what do I do with it?
This is the end of the instructions and is more just ideas for some fantasy fulfillment. Feel free to drop your own ideas in replies or reblogs!
So something that sets this belly apart from just a pillow, or bunched up clothes under your shirt, is that it's very firm, and independently held against you. A pillow under your shirt is dependent on the shirt for structure. If you lift the shirt, pillow falls off. That is not the case here, so suddenly, you've unlocked the ability to put on too small clothes, or button ups, or robes, whatever, that's too small for you now, and can fuss and mess with it without affecting the stability of the belly. You can wear pants that don't button or simply bunch up under that heavy, firm underbelly. Hell, you can simulate getting dressed with a 20 lbs mass hanging off of you. Put on socks around this thing, it's the stuff of preg kink dreams!
Getting up and down, laying in bed and rolling over, the shit that's easy to do now, takes a LOT more effort all of the sudden. Again, I urge you not to lay flat on your back too much, because I did that while padding before bed, and woke up with some muscle aches centered on my tummy, in muscles that I hadn't used in god knows how long. Don't over exert yourself with this thing. I'm bringing this up a lot because I don't want anyone getting hurt.
Taking the stairs is nuts. Going up is way more effort, and going down feels almost hazardous as you wont have vision of your feet anymore.
If you're into the domesticity of pregnancy, try doing some household chores with this thing on! Loading a dishwasher, doing some laundry, maybe some tidying. I personally have found it weirdly exhilarating, waddling around loading the washing machine around this heavy bulk. Have fun bending over to pick up something you dropped!
Even just chilling and gaming with a lap full of heavy belly feels kind of new and exciting. When you're not used to it, even the mundane shit gets hotter with a tummy like this
That's about all I got. If someone else gets everything and tries this out, let me know your experiences with it and how you've improved it! I've had an ask suggest a weighted medicine ball, so that could also work if you have one you're willing to test out. Please enjoy, and share with your pregnancy loving mutuals! Thanks for reading!!!
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