#i think i lost a bit of the comedic edge i had back when i was a teen tho

[oncewhenalongtimeago]

Sorry but I think I lost your plot kiss WHEN (/silly)

Sorry, but I Think I Lost Your Plot pt 27

Pairing: Onesided!Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Modern!Fem!Reader

Words: 4075

Embarrassing things always happen right before good things.

Tags: Time Travel, Reader into Movieverse, Reader’s POV, Hiccup’s POV

<Previous - Next>

You didn’t pause in your quick scramble away, boots tapping against the wooden planks, though you kept your hands on your face, which felt as if it was on fire.

You were so embarrassed. You had no idea where you were going. 

You yanked your hands away from your eyes as you stumbled.

The sound of hurried footsteps over wood quickly became the sound of padded soles against grass as you reached the outskirts of the village, slightly crouching as you made to half jump half slide off a short ledge made by an outcropping of rocks, hand braced against the top of it. 

You heard the sound of the wind whistling a bit too late.

 Instead of the feel of solid ground underfoot, your stomach lept as you felt something enclose on you, gripping like a vice around your upper arms as you were tugged into the sky.

You let out a yell, half out of embarrassment, partly out of surprise as your feet left the ground, kicking in the air as if you’d still been running.

You glanced up quickly, in a way which hurt your eyes as they strained in their sockets, up towards the big black, scaly chest of a dragon. 

Claws curled and adjusted themselves securely around your arms in a way that was nearly uncomfortable, like if you were a sheep about to be scolded.

You heard what might have been a sorry get lost in the wind.

You knew you were screwed the moment you were pulled over the ocean, legs flailing soundlessly. 

You’d stopped putting as much effort into your wiggling as you’d gotten halfway from the island to the sea stacks on one end of Berk, wind blowing into your face so hard your eyes were almost squinted forcefully shut.

Your arms were stiff and unable to move because of the way Toothless was holding you and the force of his vault through the sky. He wasn’t clenching as hard as he could have been, still light enough that you could feel the drag of the air against your sleeves.

You flew dangerously close to the tops of the stacks and you yelped as he let go, leaving you to stumble and nearly fall off the other end as Toothless circled backs, turning incredibly sharply and loudly, clumsily hopping to his feet behind you.

The sea far, far below bobbed and crashed against the side of the sea stack, which felt much too thin for you to be comfortable.

You felt blown through, that same sharp feeling rising and shivering sharply through all your limbs as if you were falling through the air already as your vision zoomed in and out comedically, like you were watching a distance shot in a cartoon.

You shivered in a way that was cold and tingly and unsettling in the way shivers were only when you had a fever.

You could hear Hiccup ‘Woah-ing’ and asking his dragon, “What the hel was that for?” as you pinwheeled your arms by the edge, the toes of your boots tipping dangerously against the place sunny green moss became smooth stone.

He  quickly rushed up behind you, tipping you back as the wind let out a particularly rough gust against your back.

You felt the collar of your tunic pull, tugging you back presumably by the gentle drawn force of Hiccup's fingers.

“Be careful-”

You landed on your butt against the hard-ish rock, making a sour noise in the back of your throat, nearly falling backwards.

“Sor-sorry,” You glanced up vaguely to see the apologetic, hurried expression pasted on Hiccup’s face as you scooted back clumsily.

You didn’t stop scooting until you were on ground you deemed was safe, which was a hard guess given the sparse distance the top of this sea stack covered. It only spanned maybe three lengths of your height.

You were just a few feet away from the edge, Hiccup backing up behind you in order to make space.

Your heart picked up at the thought, drumming in your chest like hands on a small bongo.

You weren’t sure how you were going to explain just about… Anything, to Hiccup.

A further ways away, meaning only about a yard or two, Toothless was perked and crouched as if to rush after the two of you -both you and Hiccup- if you fell, scrunched up uncomfortably to make up for the little room by the other edge of the stack.

After some grumpy grawping and the extending of his wings as you turned, which made you want to lean away, he jumped to another sea stack, flapping his wings clumsily in an effort to propel himself over.

“What was that- back there?” Hiccup dropped to his knees in front of you as you made a clumsy effort to scoot back around.

“What do you mean?” You squeaked, though you knew a hundred percent what he was talking about, your shoulders so stiff they were nearly at your ears.

The thin dusting of grass and moss under your hands was damp with dew and other sea things, water gathering around your fingers as you shifted from where you leaned back on your arms.

 Hiccup furrowed his brows.

“Do you… I mean-!” His face looked a bit reddish as if he’d been sunburned.

“I don’t-I don’t know?” You responded, stuttering.

“But-”

“You were going to kiss-” His face was a thick puce color now and you weren’t sure if it was because of you or if he was going to have a stroke, “Why did you run away?”

“I-I-”

“Are you-you're shy-?!” Hiccup asked, leaning forwards on his hands and knees. He probably hadn’t met anyone who’d been shy in a moment ever in his life besides Fishlegs, maybe. Did he know that was a thing you could do? “So is it fine if I-?”

“No! I mean, yes? But there-” You inhaled a large, shaky breath, “I mean, you can, but-”

With mild frustration, Hiccup leaned in and pressed his lips to yours.

It happened too quickly for you to liken it back to anything. He moved suddenly and it was nothing more than a press, clumsy and a bit uncomfortable as in one instant one of his front teeth mashed against your lip.

The hairs on the back of your neck pricked and you couldn't tell if it was from unease or something else but you could feel your face heating even further anyways, even as his hand shook, thin fingers falling sort of uneasily over yours.

You weren’t sure if it was a flattering kiss or not. You would definitely thing about it and wonder later, retrospectively.

You sat there, your eyes still open, neck scrunched slightly back in a way that definitely gave you a slight double chin.

Your jaw and shoulders were stiff though you couldn’t think of much else besides that fact that you were there and so was Hiccup.

You couldn’t register anything else, not with any sort of permanence, besides the fact that his lips were dry, probably from flying all the time and letting the forge smoke dehydrate them. But you couldn’t help but to find that charming.

You could feel his arms standing unsteady too as you pulled our hand out and reached forwards, grabbing onto his sleeves, stiff and twitching and firm through trying to be nothing but malleable.

You didn’t push him away.

You closed your eyes and with what you knew, you tried your best to make it something good.

It was a simple thing but it strung something sharp and thin and incredibly raw, sending odd tingles up your legs like sharp growing pains, a feeling you’d become quite familiar with on Berk, though you weren't sure if that was good or bad.

It was definitely weird being so out in the open. The breeze was strong against your back, making you feel sort of translucent and hollow.

You both parted naturally, separating with wide eyes.

You were enamored. 

There was nothing else you focused on but you and Hiccup on the sea stack, and vaguely a quietly displacement of air from somewhere around, a whistled flapping that could have just been the sound of the wind whistling through the narrow crevices in the stacks or Toothless having his fun jumping around and laughing at the two of you.

“I-I- uh,” Hiccup stammered.

You flushed a dusty something, heat dancing over the upper part of your cheeks.

And it was you who initiated another light press like butterfly kisses, a bit too forceful as you threw too much weight behind your hands, still shakily holding onto his arms.

In an effort to balance, the two of you fumbled, Hiccup grabbing onto your arms maybe a bit too hard, pushing you backwards.

You fell onto your back, bumping your foreheads. It was slightly jarring.

You pulled back quickly and with shut eyes, you managed a press of lips to his crown, slightly damp skin and hair pressing against yours.

“Hiccup!”

You both startled, your eyes going wide as Hiccup’s brows furrowed, head turning sharply.

The voice came from- You looked around, though Hiccup seemed to find where his Dad was before you.

 “Dad- What-?” He spoke eventually, voice prickly.

The Chief was on his dragon. Thornado. …And then there was  Gobber.

He was on a purple dragon -a Nightmare- with a large wingspan, definitely borrowed because you knew he didn’t have a dragon. He and it were bobbing and nearly ramming into Thornado as the sour-looking mount dealt with Gobber’s clumsy waving, his arm on its horn and the rapid shifting of his weight as he spoke and gestured.

They were too far away for you to feel anything but a gentle breeze from the beat of their dragons’ wings, though what they had in distance, they more than made up for in vocal range.

You broke out into nervous laughter, letting your head fall back against the grass, wincing when you felt your skull hit stone, “ow.”

“-Well, we go’ nothin’ to worry about then, eh Stoick?” Gobber chortled. You hadn’t caught the first part of that sentence but you could definitely guess at what he had been talking about. You didn’t want to, though.

Hiccup got off of you, sitting up and quickly pulling away the arms by your head as if he’d been burned, nervously rubbing them off on his fur coat, which had you quirking your lips at him with a skeptical frown.

“I’ll leave yeh to it!” Gobber cheered gruffly before kicking his dragon in the chest with his prosthetic. 

The dragon looked as if it was on its last straw, glaring and grumbling up at him in deep, reverberating, raspy growls, yet it turned anyways, nearly whacking the Chief in the head. 

And then after a few moments of silence and listening to Gobber wrestle and argue with his temporary dragon, it was just you and Hiccup and Stoick and the dew dampening the back of your shirt.

“Son,” Stoick seemed incredibly uncomfortable, glancing towards you. His shoulders were slightly hunched, arms closer to the base of Thornado’s neck than his sides, which was awkward as there wasn’t much he could do to be smaller.

You felt incredibly self conscious, aware now that there was nothing keeping you to the floor while the Chief was hovering right in front of you.

It was then that you found it pertinent to sit up, dusting off your sleeves and sort of shivering and shaking your shirt, holding it out at the base, in an effort to clear anything you could off the back.

You didn’t think it was soaked through, just damp enough for you to feel a slight chill when you were laid down, so whatever was there would evaporate on its own in its own time.

You wondered how something so high up could be so wet.

You didn’t look anyone in the eyes.

“I will see you back at the village,” You heard Stoick confirm gruffly to his son before you heard the obvious sounds of him leaving on his dragon, “...It’s about time.”

“Oh, Gods,” Hiccup said, finally, as you turned your attention away from your tunic and the grass and the slight burning of your neck, “My Dad-”

You saw him out of the corner of your eye and heard him clearly- Toothless seemed to have been laughing at him a ways away, chortling in deep inhuman tones. Something about the whole situation seemed to tickle his lizard brain.

“-I can’t believe it,” Hiccup finished, hand on his face. 

You wanted to squeak or curl up into a ball right there in the stack, knees up to your chin, or something. You weren’t sure when the last time was that you’d been a part of something so embarrassing.

“What-?”

“I mean, for the past few years I’ve been trying to-” He turned quickly to you then, as if realizing something, “Did you know that I-?” 

“What-?” You wanted to ask what he meant but you knew. 

The clamoring for attention from something was impossible to miss- the fact that you’d just always seemed to be in its general vicinity, now that you had hindsight, was indubitably harder.

“That I-You,” You knew what he was trying to say- really, your thoughts were going a mile a minute and you guessed his were too. 

“I kind of knew but I kind of didn’t? I don’t know,” You burst out, squalling, “But why- me?”

“I think you’re really- Great?” Hiccup said, “I think you’re great.”

You were slightly confused by that, but it sounded like it meant something to him. 

It would mean something to you. If there was anyone you were going to date, then it would be him.

“I- are you sure?” You asked quickly.

He was the most normal guy on the island- average and smart and snarky when he didn’t think you were looking in ways that made you feel at home sometimes.

He was your closest friend- the closest friend that you had in your age group, anyways.

You weren’t sure whether angry fishermen or bulky older women counted.

“What?”

What were you worth to him? Could he even date you? Really?

It was a jarring thought- mostly jitters that had come to interrupt your quick back-and-forth stutter fest. 

You’d been over it a million times already.

Hiccup was so much- He went from a character to a person to someone you might want to spend beach days with and go on picnics with and help out in the forge with small things.

Was it fair, when parts of his life were laid so plain out for you to see? 

Sure, a few pieces ad been missing and a few things hadn’t really gone the way you’d expected but you knew things about his past and future you, under normal circumstances, would have had no right to know

“You don’t know where I’m from, and I can’t- I’m not sure if I can tell you?” You said pitifully, as Hiccup furrowed his brows, “I don’t know how. I mean- If we’re… I want to be honest.”

He was confused.

You would be freaked out if he wasn’t.

You were crazy, compared to everyone else on the island. This alone was enough to make you crazy, if you didn’t consider any of the other things you’d brought back from the future.

You knew the Viking equivalent of the looney bin was Outcast island, thrown into chaos definitely, now that Alvin was missing. They tended not to be kind to girls, you heard.

If they had any, they were never in good enough shape to show face during war. You had a hard time believing they weren’t all dead, with the way the other Vikings talked about it.

“We can… Work on that,” Hiccup said finally, looking a bit confused, hands pressed flat on the grass in front of him.

Yeah, you could do that.

You hoped he didn’t wonder about why you couldn’t tell him. If he kb=new, he’d think you were insane. Thankfully he didn’t seem to mind too much- he brushed it off pretty quick.

He seemed fine, but he didn’t understand. He wouldn’t.

What would he do, if he ever found out?

You knew what was going to happen with the Red Death -what was going to happen with him- beforehand and you did nothing. Was this something you were going to have to die with?

You supposed things didn’t need to happen now, there was always an eventually. You were going to have a hard time breaking a few things to him, though, when that time came.

You would be dropping hints, though. You owed him and yourself that.

Things didn’t need to be the same, either. If sameness was any sort of real metric, then you would have thrown off its geiger like a bag of salt to the pH of a pool.

He wasn’t supposed to be here at this moment with you, and yet he was.

“So,” Hiccup suggested with a dumb, slightly guilty look, shrugging as you tugged your feet underneath your knees in criss-cross position, “Pick up where we left off?”

“I-” You paused, and raised your eyebrow at him.

Were you really just going to pick up where you’d left off? Right after his Dad left. Wow.

Hiccup looked almost guilty, mostly eager.

You pursed your lips and thought about it for a moment longer, then you laughed hysterically with nerves, cheeks flushing, nearly biting on your nails, nodding, “I guess so.”

You leaned forwards and Hiccup followed suit before you paused for just a second, heart pounding, thinking back to the moment you shared down by the plaza. Did you really have the courage to try this again?

You would definitely be crossing a line, walking straight and completely face-first into crazy the way you had been trying to avoid most of the time you’d spent on Berk, not that you’d succeeded in that front in the first place.

If this was your life now, was it worth it?

You had to say it was.

You clenched your eyes shut and leaned further before you could be deterred by either your own nerves or Hiccups wide-eyed stare. Then you yelped as something small and very, very hot hit your back.

You startled as you were uninterrupted again, hooking your arms under Hiccup’s as you fell forwards. 

You were fifty percent sure you’d heard a sizzle and a pat as whatever it was fell off, tumbling against the sea stack.

You made sure he fell down on the wide side of the stack, the two of you sliding back slightly on damp moss, all elbows and noses on sharp bones.

Hiccup grabbed at your elbows and you nearly slipped as you tried to sit up, turning and scooting around, pulling your knees up to your face as you reached a clumsy hand back to vaguely pat at where it had hit you.

It didn’t sting or burn or anything else so you hoped there wasn’t anything you needed to care for there.

It was glowy and orange and very, very tiny, uncurling itself and hopping around wherever it could find dry moss and grass, singing it underfoot.

This small glowy thing was recognizable to you like a sentence you read briefly once from a passage in a book, though you hadn’t known it -laid eyes on it, had time to become more familiar with it- for very long.

It was the tiny Fireworm from Fireworm island. The first one, as you’d remembered, who’d come to you to retrieve some sandwich. The one who reminded you of Hiccup. Sandwich was too good a boon not to run after, you supposed.

“Is that….?” You asked, anyway.

“What,” Hiccup started, before trailing off, having sat up behind you. You had glanced backwards at him as if to confirm, though there was no one else on the sea stack but you, so it was a kind of stupid thing for you to do.

In front of you, he -the Fireworm- was quivering and skittering and... Dancing? It was sort of like how he had done it before, many small arms waving in enthusiastic greeting, even as it’s eyes stayed wide and unmoving,

The little guy squirmed and danced around in front of you, waving many arms like a small bee trying to communicate hellos and celebrations. 

That could have been it. He was from a hive.

The little guy looked like he’d had a long journey, sort of patchy in his glowingess, and you wanted to pick him up but you knew he’d burn your hands.

You wondered if he’d really flown all the way across the ocean to you guys. It couldn’t have been too harrowing. Many of the other Fireworms made it over and back regularly.

Still, though. He looked like he needed a few sandwiches.

Hiccup shook off his coat besides yours, bringing the leathery inside down, scooping the Fireworm up, carefully wrapping it in his furs in a way that kept most of the dry, fluffiest parts away from its glowing.

“Is it going to burn?” You asked. It would be bad if his furs turned to kindling.

Hiccup looked over at you uneasily, “I hope not. I did try and fireproof it before, but… We’ll just have to see.”

You didn’t know he did that. You hadn’t been spending as much time around the forge- driven away by nerves and other shy things.

If you were standing, you would have scuffed your feet into the grass. You pulled your knees higher up under your chin instead, listening to the deep swoosh of air under leathery wings as Toothless gilded back behind you

You hadn’t been paying as much attention to the big dragon, probably off laughing on his own and staring off into the distance, admiring the world in ways animals sometimes did.

He leaned his large, scaly head over the both of you and sniffed at the little Fireworm.

Hiccup looked at you out of the corner of his eye, an expression that came off as sly even as Toothless threatened to droop over his head, trying to get a closer look at the worm.

Hiccup held the Fireworm out further, away from Toothless.

Your heart calmed and the adrenaline pounding in your ears faded, though you were still on high alert.

“What does he eat?” You asked anxiously, though Hiccup’s attention was still on Toothless and the Fireworm, he didn’t answer, so you said, slightly petty, “... I should probably ask someone, later.”

Things had nearly come to what felt like a nice emotional diminuendo.

Hiccup frowned slightly, resisting the urge to grumble pettily in the back of his throat as he handed the Fireworm in the coat over to you.

He wasn’t as great at categorizing and taking down notes on dragons. He knew a lot, but he was sure he wasn’t the one you meant to ask later. He was right there, after all.

He knew who you meant to ask.

Fishlegs.

He knew on some level that Fishlegs wasn’t into you, but he was always anticipating a change, or something from the large boy. It didn’t help that he had no idea how you felt about him at all.

“Fishlegs is really into Ruffnut,” You suggested.

You picked the Fireworm up carefully, with large eyes as it squirmed slightly in your hold.

Hiccupfelt pretty pleased with that answer, sitting a bit straighter.

“Really?”

“Yeah, he spends all his time thinking about her. When he’s not thinking about Dragons. His mother complains about it a lot.”

Like the end credit scene of a movie, you sat next to each other, looking out over the empty ocean side of the sea stack, the only thing in front of you being a short cropping or rocks sticking out from the ocean and a large-looking stone arch also dusted with moss and whatever plant could have somehow made it over here from Berk.

You held the little Fireworm in your hands in Hiccup’s vest jacket.

“I guess maybe he isn’t so bad after all.”

You hummed in agreement, though your voice was tinged with slight confusion.

It seemed you were still in denial about a few things, after all. 

Hiccup still really wanted to kiss you.

#httyd #how to train your dragon #fanfiction #x reader #hiccup haddock #hiccup x reader #httyd imagine #female reader #toothless #fem reader

[billerak]

Chapter 24 mesh (part gay)

Part 1 isn't strictly necessary but it adds some context to this

So Ami tries to kick Minori out too, but she realizes Minori is not very well so she trails off.

So as soon as they leave Ami's like "Alright bitch what's goin' on?" And Minori collapses on the spot. She's been wearing her mask all day on like a really high level and she can't do it anymore.

Look at Ami's surprise, shock even.

This is, possibly, the most vulnerable Minori has ever been. And she's chosen Ami of all people to see her. Nothing's stopping her from going out there, crying by her lonesome.

Earlier, she said people seeing her vulnerability is what made it worth it. She's here, showing her most vulnerable self to Ami. And if you remember a couple episodes ago, she insisted ghosts only show themselves to people who truly understand them.

So here comes the big question.

Why are you crying?

Disclaimer: I'm aware this is probably a mistranslation, on the side of both dub and subs. Afaik, the question should be the other way round.

Regardless, the "is it...?" implies the opposite question would follow, so either way the point is the same.

Why is Minori crying? Because she lost Takasu, or because she lost Taiga? She doesn't know. The answer is probably both. And without the probably, the answer IS both as I'll show in a bit.

And Minori's like "I didn't want to cry", but she couldn't help it and she's showing this to Ami and... It's so fucking great, you know? And gay, of course.

But it just goes to show her entire thing about determination or whatever... it's a front. She just didn't want Ryuji to see this.

And look at Ami's face. She's SO FUCKING KIND AND UNDERSTANDING

foooor about 1 second, then she goes back to playing the role that's expected of her.

Minori doens't take offense. She knows how Ami really is when pissed, so she just goes on.

But Ami dismisses her. However, her tone is far kinder than any other time she's spoken like this. She's, in her own way, trying to help Minori get through this.

Way to not care, eh, Ami?

Honestly, this whole scene has this... romantic undertone. Minori's heartbroken, and Ami's right there, cheering her on. Honestly, the only thing that could make it gayer is if they had some physical contact going on.

And the next time we see them... they're still together. And Ami is still trying to get her to, you know, be honest.

But Minori is back on her bullshit. Literally doing what she's done before already: Training/working so that she doesn't have to think.

And Ami's just like "yeah, she got her bisexual ass kicked, poor girl." For once, she actually accepts Minori needs space. Because this time she really is on edge. OH AND ALSO LAST NAIL ON THE COFFIN OF MINORI'S BISEXUALITY

And we see them off with a bit of a comedic bickering moment. Obviously, Minori is just deflecting, but Ami plays along again.

I think this just goes to show that, from here on out, they're gonna be close friends. And who knows? Maybe more.

For who can truly know what goes on in one's own heart?

Anyways, I think this is gonna be the last analysis-type post, I'll just go back to posting random screenshots and commenting whatever I feel like.

#Toradora #Toradora! #Minori Kushieda #Ami Kawashima #minami #aminori

[tellerluna-stories]

i. morax

Years later, the young Morax stood atop the mighty stone spears he had thrown into the sea, the taste of victory still fresh in his mouth. All the world was quiet and still, for the sun had yet to rise.

Sharp were his teeth, horns and claws, honed to a dangerous edge by the catastrophes of war. He was taller now, with fine broad shoulders and amber eyes that shone with intelligence– yet those shoulders were saddled with an unbearable heaviness, and the heart within his chest ached for a time of peace.

Morax’s thoughts wandered to the words of the archon who had raised him like a mother— she was long gone, having faded away into oblivion before the war had ever begun.

"You were right about waiting lifetimes, it seems." He murmured, face tilted upward to the cloudy sky.

War had swept over the land, robbing many of their homes, their joy and even their very lives. Archons raged against each other in a reckless struggle for power, caring not how many lives were sacrificed for their selfish goals. The peaceful land of Teyvat had become a bloodthirsty playground for these so-called gods, and no man, woman or child did not know the pain of losing something they treasured.

And sadly, Morax was no exception to this.

The living treasure he thought he had found bloomed like a glaze lily in the plains of Guili, thriving on sunshine and songs of joy. But just as true glaze lilies do when faced with strife, his treasure withered away and crumbled to dust before his very eyes, unable to withstand the ugly wounds and pain that war brought to this land. His friends laughed with him no longer, for they either perished in the conflict or became his sworn enemies.

His mouth filled with the bitter taste of regret; the war had been won, but at what cost?

“My liege!”

The sound of dragging footsteps came from behind him, and he turned to see you staggering towards him. The fearsome weapon that you used to slay countless warriors on the battlefield now served you as a crutch, and was probably the only thing keeping you from toppling off the edge of the peak.

An ugly, sick feeling wrenched in his gut when Morax realised that out of all the adepti he had appointed to fight alongside you, you were the only one left.

You were all alone, just like he was— and it was his fault.

But your face showed no expression of bitterness or anger upon seeing his face— instead, you gave a weakly smile and raised your hand into a shaky salute. “Greetings, my liege...“

Your ankle twisted from underneath you, nearly sending you sprawling headfirst into the ocean.

Morax barely managed to catch you in time before you fell. “Steady now, friend.”

Panic and worry slithered into his thoughts— was he going to have to watch all over again as someone else he cared about slipped away? “The fighting’s over now. We don’t have to worry anymore.”

Your eyelids fluttered drowsily. “Oh, I know that; I was there on the frontlines.”

“Friend.” He shook your shoulder urgently. “Please, don’t close your eyes— please.”

“I’m not dying, my liege! Just—“ You grimaced and smacked his arm lightly, wincing as you did so. “I‘m so tired. So, so..... so very tired. And sore. I want to take a warm bath and go to sleep for at least a century or two.”

“Are you sure you’re not injured?”

“I already—“ You began to answer back in an exasperated manner, but halted when you saw the expression on his face. “Alright, you can check for yourself.”

Slightly disentangling your arms from his, you held them out to the sides for him to observe. “See? Not a single scratch.”

Morax breathed a sigh of relief he didn’t realize he was holding, and instinctively his arms curled protectively around your form, pulling you into a tight embrace. “.....Thank you, friend. For being alive and unharmed.”

He had already lost so much to this pointless, useless war, and if he lost you, too.....

“....It’s nothing you need to be thanking me for.” You tucked your chin into the crook of his shoulder. “I probably look worse than I feel right now, but I’m just exhausted, that’s all— I promise.”

Morax closed his eyes and breathed deeply, his heart swelling with relief; today would not be another day of mourning and sorrow, after all. “Judging from the way you were fighting on the battlefield, I’d be surprised if you weren’t. I saw you from here.”

A slight hint of dry laughter crept into your voice. “I saw you from down there, too.”

“Is that so?”

“If I’m being quite honest, my liege, you looked quite comedic; what with your majestic horns and hair poking through those tiny holes in your hood.”

He snorted slightly and slung your arm over his shoulder, slowly hobbling with you to sit on the edge of the stone peak. “It seems you have recovered already, friend.”

“Perhaps I have.” You replied, slumped against his shoulder. “Or perhaps I’m trying to ignore the nightmares that I know will haunt me when I sleep tonight. The faces of those who have fallen, the innocent people who I’ve.....” Your voice trailed off, your fingers tentatively nudging their way into his clawed hand.

“....I know.” Morax didn’t need to ask to know exactly what you were feeling— the shame and the horror churning in your head, the tears threatening to spill over at any moment. “I know.”

“Was it worth it, my liege?”

Morax looked down, to where the people— no, your people stood.

Weary soldiers embraced each other, crying tears of joy and relief that this long battle was finally over. Some raised their eyes skyward, giving thanks for the opportunity to come home to their loved ones, while others knelt silently over the bodies of their fallen comrades to honour them as they deserved.

“....I’m not sure.” He said softly. “There was a high price to pay, but I think— I hope— that it will be worth the sacrifice. For our people to have a future where they can live without fear.”

“Then... I’ll stay by your side and aid you, so that you can reach the future that you dream of.”

Morax smiled ruefully at your words and said, “That sounds dangerously like a contract, friend. Be careful of the words you let fall from your mouth, especially around me.”

“So what if it’s a contract? Contract, promise, oath—“ You murmured, not opening your eyes. “It’s what I want to do. You aren’t forcing me or anything.”

“....Thank you, friend.”

He waited for your reply, but you remained silent, your grasp on his hand tightening ever so slightly.

“....my liege?”

“You need not call me that any longer. Just Morax is fine.”

“It feels a bit disrespectful if I don’t... Well, no promises, but I will try to remember that.” You hesitated before saying, “I- well, I actually have a somewhat odd request.”

Morax tilted his head slightly, pondering your question. “What is it that you desire, then?”

“Do you mind if... if I just rest here for a while?”

“....You may rest here for as long as you need.” Gently, he brushed some stray strands of hair away from your face. “You have done well, friend.”

A sigh of relief escaped from your mouth, and the tension in your body dissolved. “Thank you, my l....”

But before you could even finish, you were already fast asleep.

A slight smile spread across his face, and he shook his head in disbelief— it seemed that it would take some more time for you to call him by his actual name.

That day, the sun dawned on a new era for the nation of Liyue and its protectors. The people rejoiced that the war was finally over, and there was much singing and dancing to be heard all over the land.

But oddly enough, in that moment as he sat with you atop the peaks of what would become the Guyun Stone Forest— Morax did not think of the future that lay before the two of you and the responsibilities that were to come with it, nor did he reflect on the memories of the past that would haunt him for centuries to come.

He could only think of how warm you felt, resting against his shoulder, and how snugly his fingers intertwined with yours.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact angst #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact zhongli #zhongli x reader #zhongli angst #zhongli fluff #zhongli imagines #zhongli headcanons #friends to lovers #best friends to lovers #pining #mutual pining #ok this time around I didn’t hold back on the angst #so I actually don’t know how sad this is #we’ll just have to see :D #mackerel-san if you’re reading this hi I’m very nice in your inbox but I am not nice when it comes to writing angst HAHA #tellerluna.tales #tellerluna.tales: living treasure

[smutty-ki113r]

🎠Laughing Jack🎠|| Carousel

Fluff one-shot x gn!reader— only warning is angst (2.6k)

Inspired by: Melanie Martinez

After months of endless nagging you finally convinced Laughing Jack to let you visit his amusement park. He had claimed it was too scary and you would get creeped out but you weren’t one to take no for an answer.

Giving you a piece of candy so the trans-dementional trip wouldn’t be too hard on you. Tasting the sour lemon taffy he gave you and making a tense face as the flavor pulled at your taste buds and stuck to your teeth.

Your head getting dizzy as your surroundings warped and his room became red and white vertical stripes. Blinking a couple times as he leaned into your face, “are you alright?”

“I’m fine!” You told him, almost falling back at how close he was. As soon as your perception adjusted you looked for the exit to the tent you were inside. “Onward!” You said excited, marching comedically to the entrance flap.

“This isn’t exactly the safest place”, he called from behind, catching up with ease because his legs were so long. “You need to stay close to me at all times” you smiled at him, it’s not like you were complaining, “got that?”

Giving him a keen nod you stepped out of the grand tent. Squinting at the sky, which was tainted a dusty gray, swirly clouds amber of scattered around in the background. The carnival was beautifully revolting, with littered attractions as far as the eye could see.

The place looked somewhat abandoned, if you get past the faint cries of children, from their souls stored in toys. Rides that once colored a vibrant red had paint chipped, specks of dull metal flaked over the bars.

Game stands broken down and leaning unsteadily, disturbing toys with eyes and limbs missing hanging from the top. It looked like it might fall down at any minute, but you couldn’t help but notice the newer looking boxes of supplies lying around next to the stands.

Fairy lights hung from the tilted signs, decorating the food court. A fresh trail had been made between the rides.

It warmed your heart that he had made subtle efforts to fix the place up, he certainly didn’t think you would notice.

Looking back at his nervous smile, Jack was terrified you would hate the place. You thought all but the opposite, giving him a big grin. Your expression relaxed him, assuring him that you wouldn’t think he was a freak and leave. His whole demeanor shifting, making him more comfortable and even enthusiastic.

Straightening out and giving you jazz hands, “what are you waiting for?” putting one hand on his hip to motion you to the park with the other “lets go have fun!”

Following behind you with a giggle as you approached the carnival games. The ring toss looking somewhat appealing in between the other activities, so you told him you wanted to play.

“Basically you get 5 rings, if you get at least 3 in the pins you win a prize” he explained.

“Alright alright lemme try” you waved him off, snatching the rings and giving one a toss. It missed, you brushed it off. The second one made it in and Jack gave a little cheer, it still wasn’t enough.

Hyperfocusing on the pin in the middle make a soft throw upward, the edge hitting the top of the pin and falling to the side. You gave a groan, calculating your last two throws.

Your forth throw made the pin to the side, and you only had one more try left. Aiming for another pin at the side to release, the ring clanging against it and falling to the floor.

You went to look at Jack with a frown but he wore a happy expression, “you won!” He exclaimed. Confused you turned back, finding the ring you had just tossed around the last pin. You were completely certain you had missed it, racking your mind for an explanation as jack handed you a small purple bunny that was missing an arm.

Realizing that Jack had manipulating the game so you could win, throwing him a knowing glance. He just happened to be looking away, whistling guiltily.

Squeezing the bunny you moved onto the next game, it was ballon dart toss. The stand had pale red and black balloons scattered across a board. Excitement was written all over his face, you cocked an eyebrow in question.

“It’s a two person game!” He said, “whoever pops more balloons wins!”

He handed you four darts and kept four for himself, “you can go first” he motioned with a grin. Pacing the dart in two fingers a couple times before throwing at a balloon. Giving a groan when you missed and waiting for him to go.

Being as skilled as he was he managed to land one in a bullseye. “Oh it’s on” you dared, getting one point yourself. LJ got the second one too, staring at you intensely as you evened out the score.

Giving him a small smile as the dart broke the surface of the balloon with a sharp noise “pop goes the weasel right?” You laughed, referring to his famous song.

He looked at you almost in shock, taken aback by your joke. Shaking himself into reality he broke out in a light blush, a part of him touched, as if you were accepting him for who he was.

Too distracted by your eyes on him to play the game with concentration. Missing the third one with a growl he waited for you to take your turn, which you lost. It was the last point and Jack was a shoe in, so obviously he took the victory.

You were happy for him, passing along a “good job!” as he retrieved the big brown teddy bear that was half his size, and all of yours. It was missing an eye, thin stands of makeshift fur pulled out and a silky red bow around it’s neck.

“Here” he said, dangling it in front of you.

“For me?” You asked, “but you won”, trying to look up at him but the bear blocked most of your view, only letting you see above his nose.

“Just take it” he practically pushed it into you, making you blow out an oof.

Holding it to the side at the torso with one hand you broke out in a grin “thank you for the plushie” you said, hugging him from the side and squeezing his torso “but I want you to be my teddy” you laughed. He looked incredibly flustered, frozen as you broke away.

“You’re big and tall” you tippy toed up to give his shoulder pad feathers a ruffle “and fluffy”

The man looked like he was about to faint so you decided to knock it off, laughing and telling him you wanted to go on the carousel next. Quickly, LJ happily led you too it, skipping in front of you (mostly to hide his blush).

Standing at the controls to cue a round, watching you walk around to find a pretty horse. Given, all of them had dark spots and chipped paint, but they worked all the same. Leaving the bear on another horse and climbing onto a white one that had a yellow saddle, intricate lacy designs patterned on the sides. Royal blue reigns across it’s chest and a lion on a crest.

It was beautiful, and you traced your fingers on the drawing. It must have been stunning, but the weathering of time and agony had gotten to it. A painful reminder of what was, a mere reflection of the chipping away of a joyful being.

Prying away from your thoughts as you felt the vibrations of Jack stepping onto the walkway- with one of his big smiles. Even after everything, he still wore a smile. It made you want to tear up, he really needed all the love he could get.

He was too tall to get on a horse, so he just stood by you. His big hand gracing the golden pole and holding on, watching as you peeked up at him. Even though his eyes were constantly bright he displayed something…deeper. It was a sort of shine, a sparkle if you will, luminosity glazed over in such a way that one can only get lost in its vastness.

The looped music in the background was secondary as you rose up and down with the horse, giving Jack a little smile and thanking him for bringing you here. “I’m having a lot of fun with you” you noted.

“Well of course you are! It’s a carnival” he said with joy.

“No I mean with you” you clarified “you’re pretty great Jack”. This time he didn’t avoid your gaze, his mouth open slightly, not knowing how to react to the sincerity of the compliment.

The ride slowly came to a stop, and you were feeling slightly tingly. Maybe it was the air, or the loss of focus. “How about a roller coaster?” You dared, to which he gave a tense face.

“Those are pretty broken, you’ll probably die riding one and that’s not what we want” he said, stepping off the carousel. “How about some cotton candy instead?”

You nodded your head vigorously, following him in the pursuit for the fairy floss, the bear falling behind forgotten. Passing by more unused rides that had long past rusted and a house of mirrors to get to the food court.

Jack humming happily as he dipped a paper cone into the bowl of revolving fibers of sugar. Whipping up a swirly pink and blue cotton candy and handing it to you with a proud smile.

He went to make another treat until you spoke, “I’m not that hungry so we can share” you proposed. “If you want”

“Are you sure?” He asked, concerned that you didn’t have much appetite. “Do you want some candy or maybe a funnel cake?”

You shook him off, taking a bite out of the cloud-like dessert. It was absolutely delicious, honeyed and saccharine on your tongue in a blend of flavor you had never tasted had before.

Soft as it disintegrated onto your mouth, leaving behind a remanence of something too sweet. Bringing it up to Jack, who was so tall you had to extend your arm fully to get it to his mouth.

He simply laughed at your struggle, taking a bite before giving you a thin smile and taking it from your hand. Sitting down at a bench so that you could both share comfortably.

By the time the candy had finished you noticed little bits of the silky texture stuck on his nose. Painfully stifling a laugh you turned away.

“What’s so funny?” He asked with a genuine smile.

When you didn’t answer his tone changed, “what’s so funny huh?” he sounded a bit angered.

Hiccuping through your laughter you faced him, leaning in real close to his face, enough so that you could feel the heat emanating from it; taking a bite of the pink woven candy on his nose and holding it in your teeth.

His face went red at the sight, embarrassed that he had cotton candy on his nose. Well, that and for a moment he thought you were going to kiss him.

Noticing your hands were all sticky you asked him if there was a sink somewhere. After both of you washed your hands you sat back down at the bench.

The sky was going dark, the poofs of dusty cloud fading in with the night but still managing to remain visible. You heard a whirr as Jack turned on all the rides at the carnival, lighting the whole thing up.

You sat in awe, a mere spectator in the empty yet live amusement park. Admiring the music that added to the ambiance, watching Jack approach you.

“Wanna take a walk?” He asked, but there was something…off. LJ seemed nervous as you got up and walked next to him.

He had been thinking about it for a while now, probably even before he brought you to the carnival. Even though he had washed the gooey candy from his hands they were still sticky, but it was from sweat. Giving you side glances as you paced the trail with him.

Debating to himself whether or not he should do it, if you would hate him for it. Telling himself that he would regret it if he didn’t, but thinking about the potential negative reactions you could give.

Passing the carousel once again as you noticed the usually loud and happy clown was silent, lost in thought as he stared into the distance, his lips forming a tensing line.

Wondering if he was ok, but brining up the topic might make him uneasy. Perhaps you being there at his haunted amusement park was ticking him off, or if you taking that cotton floss off his nose was too much, or if you were pushing your luck, or worse what if you triggered hi-

All thoughts faded from your mind the moment you felt a slow, shaky hand grasp onto yours. You had to look to where he held you because he was so gentile you thought it was the wind. Holding onto you softly enough that it felt like a feather, somehow still creating a little pocket of warmth between you.

A glowing thump of heat pulsing inside your chest, happiness digging into your cells and giving you the confidence to squeeze his hand.

He let out a sharp inhale at the feel, still avoiding your gaze as he relaxed into your touch. Not daring to move his hand too much or he might risk ruining the moment, afraid of hurting you with his claws.

Approaching the Ferris wheel he finally spoke, “this is probably the one ride that won’t break”, not a peep about holding you. “Do you want to go on?”

You finally caught his gaze, absolutely melting at the smile in his eyes. Responding with a ‘yes’ and letting him open the door for you. Sustaining his grip with you as he helped you on, not letting go even after you sat.

The cart wasn’t exactly small, but with a guy the size of Jack it was pretty compacted. It’s not like you minded, the lack of space gave you an excuse to bunch up alongside him. The feathers from his pads tickling your face as you rested on him.

Watching the view as the cart took you higher and higher, it was perfect. The evening set in the rich obscurity of the night, lights of the festival blinking as if they had a life of their own. The bulbs on the stands making z’s as they illuminated the red and white drapes of the far off tents.

Jack held your hand with such care and caress, you gave him a reassuring press to let him know it was ok. He was so enveloped with the passionate act that he squeezed as well. Letting you feel all the dips and curves of his hand. Clutching onto you, as if you might disappear too.

Facing him to cup his cheek with your free hand, caressing him and tucking a stand of hair behind his ear. Trailing your thumb across his skin and feeling him lean into your touch, swearing that between the lines on the pad of your finger there was a tear that you had wiped away.

Getting lost in the breaths you shared as you inched closer to his lips, giving him a second of warmth longer to prove that you weren’t going anywhere.

#creepypasta #laughing jack fluff #laughing Jack #laughing jack x you #laughing jack x reader #laughing jack rants #lj #I love lj #creepypasta fluff #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta hcs #creepypasta lj #creepypasta laughing jack #creepy #🎴 #♣️

[greene-rph]

gilanares unreleased demo lyric starters

all of these are taken from the songs that gilanares has released (so far) in 2022 on her ‘unreleased demos’ soundcloud playlist. feel free to change pronouns/etc.

rag doll

i'm good at doing what i'm told.

tell me what you wanna hear and I'll repeat it back to you.

I've learned i'm easily controlled.

i'm moldable and malleable and that's what makes me valuable.

i give the people what they want.

i'm not really worth that much at all.

if it comes down to it hell ill even bleed for you until i run right out of blood.

i just wanna be your favorite.

i’ll do whatever you want.

i'm just a rag doll.

the truth is ugly

the truth is ugly.

it’s like being back in high school.

as i get a little older i can see things clearer.

i know that i don’t have to apologize to you.

i know that i don’t have to apologize to you but i kinda want to.

i know that when you knew me i wasn’t my best.

i just wanna put my past life to rest.

i always wanted more out of you and i'm sorry about that.

i put a lot of pressure on us

i want to get better, honest.

i wanted to get better, honest, but i didn’t know how to.

i know i had issues plenty

i hope you don’t resent me but it’s okay if you do

i never really meant to let you go.

i'm glad you’ve taken this time to grow.

i'm glad you’ve taken this time to grow cause I’ve done the same thing too.

the antagonist

you met me when i was the hero and stuck around long enough to watch it go up in flames.

you couldn’t handle it, watching me become the antagonist.

was it entertaining for you?

i'm just a scary story that got a bit too gory for your liking.

am i psyching you out?

call me the villain, call me a beast.

i'm the best of them though.

guess i put on a good show.

call me the villain, call me a beast, all that i can say is at least i'm the best of them.

i had you on the edge of your seat.

frostbite

the cold won’t kill me.

i’ve played your game and it’s a lost fight.

you love me with your fingers crossed, right?

you’re the reason i play dirty now.

you’re why i worry now.

you’re why i’ll be fucked up til i’m, like, thirty.

well at least no one can hurt me now.

you’ve put on quite a show.

you say you’re sorry, i don’t know if you mean it.

you killed me cause it was convenient, didn’t you?

maybe it’s my fault.

i don’t even remember what happened.

you killed me cause it was comedic, didn’t you?

it was funny and we were both laughing for a minute or two.

baby i’ve been going thru a lot

i've been going through a lot.

i've been going through a lot and thought that i shouldn't share.

i'm tired of having to tear myself apart.

hurting feels like home.

I don't what you to worry.

you know this shit's therapeutic.

it may not be pretty but won't you talk it all out with me?

out of all my fixations you are my favorite.

you are my favorite, even though sometimes I forget to say it.

i've been trying to teach myself to keep myself in check.

i'll sort everything out somehow.

the comedown

i used to love my lover.

i used to be off my face, like, all the time.

i'm too high to pay attention.

everything is boring.

you call, i ignore it.

i’m living in the past just to pass the time.

think i’m on the comedown.

i live off memories.

reality is dead to me.

i don’t want it.

#lyrics meme #gilanares meme #rp meme #lyric prompts #rp prompts #memes #our memes #**

[nautiscarader]

Marichat 1

Smutember day 1 - Strip Poker, Marichat (ML)

(Ao3)

With apologies to anyone, who knows how to play poker.

Also I hope you will apprciate all the ice puns. You will soon see why.

What killed the dinosaurs? THE ICE AGE

===========

At this point, Marinette thought she'd be used to having a boyfriend with a slightly unusual method of dropping by. She heard the scratching on the trapdoor, and when she opened it, she was welcomed with an upside-down face of her feline companion.

With his trademark agility he indeed dropped in, landing on all fours and jumped back up, his tail coiling around her waist to bring her into his arms.

- Quite a bold move, kitty. - she smiled. - Well, you know me. - How did you know I'd be free tonight, though? College is forcing me to stay a lot in the libraries, even in the evening... I was about to hit the hay... - she pointed to her rather skimpy clothing. - I guess it was a bluff.

His hands slid up and down her thighs, while her legs gently parted his. It was true, her university did embark a toll on her private life, giving the two way less time to spend together.

And as the two were about to kiss, a word from him gave Marinette an idea.

- How about strip poker? - Marinette asked, raising her eyebrow - If you think your bluff game is so strong... - Sounds like a slightly more complicated way of getting you out your clothes, princess... - Chat replied cockily.

Marinette gave him a gentle kiss and jumped onto her back. She straightened the sheets, took the deck, shuffled it, and shot Chat with a smile.

- I assume an alley cat like you-you know how to play poker? - she added with just a tinge of hesitation. - Ah, of course - he replied with a similar moment of worry - Were you thinking of some other, simpler game? - Well...

Marinette began, and she lost control of her deck, temporarily scattering cards all over her laps.

- There-there is this card mini game in this, uh, app game called Mister... - Penguino! - Chat finished, and coughed, sounding a bit too excited - I heard, I mean. We can, uh play that simplified version, just to humour you. - Yeah, I mean, even pros need a break once in a while.

The two shared a long, silent connection, as Marinette shuffled and dealt the cards. She hid her face behind them, wishing she could have seen the tooltips that automatically suggested the desired highest combo...

She sneaked a quick look at Chat, but she was used to him hiding his thoughts, and it seemed for once he might have an upper hand, or claw...

She repositioned a few cards, and with a firm move, she put two of them down, sending her opponent a faint smile.

- I've got... one pair of snowshoes! - and she proudly uncovered two queens. Chat smiled back. - Guess I've invited you to ice-skate ring for a date.

And revealed four cards from his hand.

- Two pairs.

Marinette's smile faded, and knowing he wouldn't look away, she undid her ponytails, tossing away her hair ties.

- Come on, that barely counts as clothing. - Chat protested. - Be glad I undid them both at the time. - she smiled and took more cards.

This time, the pause did not last as long, as Marinette didn't even wait for Chat.

- Four of a kindle! - Eh, pass.

And with that, Marinette watched as he ditched his gloves. After a few ties, her winning streak returned, as she got a regular Strait, followed by Icy Strait, much to Chat's surprise.

- In hindsight, I should have thought this through, wearing one-piece outfit isn't the best strategy...

Marinette just nodded, watching as he lost his shoes and Chat Noir-themed socks. And she had to restrain herself from giggling when she looked at her next hand.

- Full Igloo! in your face!

Chat Noir swallowed, and knowing that she will watch every move of his slowly pulled down the golden bell, revealing his lean, but muscular chest, and, as he let his costume fell to the floor, Marinette's eyes fixated on his...

- Boxers!? - Marinette protested - What? - they were bundled with socks - And he pointed to his pawprints his boxers were dotted with.

Marinette grumbled. It seemed her luck has ran out temporarily. Two Snowmen and one Ho-Ho later, she found herself without her jacket and pants. She suddenly found herself wished she had worn socks...

But then, with a triumphant smile, she laid down five cards down.

- Slushy Strait.

She spoke, looking at four cards Chat put down that were nowhere close to topping hers.

And with a faint smile, Chat stood up and reached to his boxers, where a faint trace of his erection was visible. Marinette bit her lip, and watched as the dark material slides down, until his biology performed an admirable jolt, when his cock sprung to life once he was freed.

- Well, looks like you've won. - Chat sat down, and was about to shuffle the cards back when Marinette stopped him. - Not yet. You still have your mask.

Adrien swallowed loudly, as Marinette's smile widened to an almost Cheshire-cat length.

- My... My princess... - Deal the cards. - she cut him off quickly, trying not to have her mind clouded with the image of his cock.

But the smile faded away equally quickly. Next turn forced Marinette to take her top, and in two more, she found herself whether to choose her bra, or her panties, which have revealed her readiness already. And knowing that, she opted for them, hoping the sight of her sex would throw her opponent off.

Chat smiled, watching as Marinette lifted her legs into the air and undid her panties, pretending to hide her puffy lips from him, when in reality she made sure that her night lamp would show a few droplets of her arousal.

The two stared at each other and reached for more cards. This time, her face remained frozen and motionless, and she put down five cards.

Chat Noir, with equally stoic demeanour, did the same.

At the same time, they both revealed them.

- Icy Slushy Strait! - Marinette howled - Finally, I will know the identity of my boyfriend... - Five of a kindle. - What?!

Marinette watched, as Chat flipped each card, one ace at a time, finishing with a comedic depiction of a medieval jester.

She looked up, unable to believe his luck. Instead of any explanation, she just saw a glimmer in his green eyes.

She reached her hand behind her back and undid her bra, rendering her completely naked, while Chat licked his lips at the sight of her breasts.

- Can we stop pretending? - Yeah, I guess.

Marinette grumbled, and she welcomed the feeling of his lips on hers, as he jumped onto her, pinning her naked body to her comfy bed.

But he wasn't interested in immobilising her, as Chat was clearly drawn to her sex, now positively glistening with her juices, and a single lick of his made Marinette howl, as her legs flailed around his head.

Chat drove her insane for a couple of minutes, knowing she wasn't even trying to hide her oncoming climax. The feeling of his fingers, instead of claws brought a much needed comfort and tenderness to his foreplay, especially when he traced her clit.

And just as with the final hand, this one brought Marinette to her loss. She buried her face in a pillow, while she soaked her lover with her arousal, thrashing around him, much yo his pleasure.

Adrien thought she would remain like that for long, but her shaking arms were soon around his neck, as she brought him onto her.

She let out a moan under his pleasant, heavenly weight, but when his aggressive behaviour drove him between her legs, she had to stop him.

- Ah, ah, ah - Marinette spoke, as Chat looked at her, stumped - Forgot about something?

She reached to her nightstand, and to his surprise, she produced a condom in a black package depicting a handsome man with green eyes and cat ears, clearly from the same set as his underwear.

- I feel I should file for copyright claim. - They make ones with Ladybug as well... - Marinette added with a mixture of annoyance and odd bit of pride in her voice - I know we were stripping down, but this will suit you.

She let out a giggle when his cock twitched in her hand, as she coiled her fingers around him and slid the condom on, feeing each of his vein under her fingertips.

- Sorry kitty, but I'm not ready for your kittens yet... maybe next month...

She joked and gasped, as Chat positioned himself between her legs, feeling his tip brushed her wet opening.

Spoiled by his delicate treatment before, it was time for Chat to utilise his pent-up energy, as he slid inside her with ease, earning another languorous moan from his lover, as she dug her nails into his back.

With each thrust, she spilled his name into his ear, feeling his cock spreading and tearing her in half, as buried himself deeper and deeper.

- Chat... Chat... Chaton!

She knew he was on the edge of his climax too, brought by their shared taunting, and though she preferred long, slow love-making, she would gladly welcome another "little death", as it was called in her language.

She listened to his guttural, low groans, and when his back arched, so did hers, almost as if to give him chance to reach her depths, while he filled his condom with seed, and her ears with her name.

The two joined bodies pulsed and shuddered, as Chat delivered his potency into the rubber, her body milking him for more in a futile attempts at executive the biological imperative Marinette protected herself from.

Their groans and moans subsided, as their lips met, and with that, the gentle creaking of the bed stopped as well, replaced by smacking sound of their hungry mouths.

- Well, looks like I won, Chat huffed, lifting himself from his position, marvelling at the sight of Marinette's slightly sweaty body and her ruffled hair. - Are-are you sure?

Marinette's lips curled in a cocky smile and she showed him her hand, holding four aces and a joker she must have picked up when they were basking in their shared afterglow.

- But... - But what kitty? Look, my sleeves are empty - she raised her arms to mock him further - My princess, that's cheating! - All's fair in love and war - she spoke without missing a beat - Your mask, Chaton

Cold sweat rushed down his spine, strengthened by her piercing gaze and a sly smile. For quite a while neither of them spoke, each fixated at their partner's face.

- Although, I can accept this as alternative.

Marinette spoke and grabbed his cock, sliding underneath it, until it hovered over her face. Her fingers pinched the tip of the condom, filed with his seed and she stuck her tongue out, waiting for her reward as she slid it from his length.

Inch by inch, as Marinette disrobed her lover, globs of his potent spunk landed in her mouth, guided by her skilled tongue that traced his undercock, causing him to shudder and twitch.

And even after the condom was off, Marinette squeezed it to ensure that none of his hard and tasty work would be wasted, letting out loud and unabashed sounds of satisfaction as she tasted her salty treat, making sure to not look away from Chat's enamoured face.

Despite being disrobed, Marinette won, proudly wearing a smile and his cum on her face.

- That... that was quite a move, Marinette. - Chat admitted and bowed gently, sneaking a kiss to her ankle, as he helped her collect her clothes. - Always pleasure to win with someone, who knows how to lose. - she giggled in return. - Next time you will be the one begging for mercy. - Oh, I sure hope so.

Marinette raised her arms and put her wrists next to the headboard of her bed, as if she was tied. She watched, as his cock twitched again through his latex clothes.

- Oh, and by the way... I'd still win. - he said as he climber up - I still had my tail.

He closed the door, and only after a while Marinette let out a gasp when she realised how his tail could have been attached to his naked body once he got out of his suit...

#marichat #smutember #day 1 #miraculust #lemon #mlnsfw #nautiscaraderfics #smutember 2021 #smutember2021

[foodieforthoughts]

Sand and Stars - Prologue

Series Summary: After the water pump being blown up, the insurgents in Baqubah are taking a hold of the food supply to the village. Camp Warhorse is in dire need of reinforcements. It has been eight months of submitting countless requests when the High Command commissions Sergeant Olivia Ross to take her group of men and women and help Captain Syverson and his team to restore a semblance of normalcy. But with the war raging, does it get two hearts closer too?

Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC x OMC

Word Count: 1925

Warnings: 18+, Mentions of war, military technicalities, smut in future chapters

A/N: This (x) has finally taken birth. I am very excited about this fic, it is literally the only thing I can focus on right now. A big thanks to @thelastsock​ for beta-ing this. Sending her lot of love and good health, always. Please don’t come down on me if I have gotten any of the army-related things wrong, because this is a work of fiction.

Title: Prologue

Olivia Ross was everything but a heavy sleeper. She slept like a feral cat ready to jump at even the slightest bit of disturbance. And that is why she was wide awake at 3 a.m.

The sound of Alex’s snores, deep and rumbling, echoed from beside her. A strong arm was draped tightly over her torso-his bull’s head tattoo peeking out from under his sleeve. Olivia looked to her side and sighed.

She hated sneaking out of his room the next day. The walk of shame she could take-her squad mates were already bored by the gossip of yesteryears-but the imminent questioning that Alex would barrage her with later, was what broke her.

Carefully, Olivia moved his arm from over her body and slid out from the bunk bed they were sharing. She watched as Alex turned to the other side and a moment later, continued snoring; oblivious to the loss of bodily warmth from besides him.

Grabbing her discarded clothes piled on the floor and hurriedly pulling them on, Olivia grabbed her dog tags from the table. Her eyes also fell on the other chain lying on the metal desk; a Saint Christopher Medal in a silver chain which Alex had gotten for her the last time he had flown home. Reluctantly, she grabbed the chain and wore it with her dog tags and swiftly snuck out of the Captain’s room.

As soon as Olivia was out in the corridors of the Baghdad base camp, the sweet noise of military men going about their duties graced her ears. She looked around as she made her way towards the ladies quarters; some of the men were loading up their Humvees for a patrol around the city, a few of them out for their morning run and then there were others like her who were hurrying away to reach their beds.

Closing the door to her quarters, Olivia was met with two sets of narrowed eyes looking at her. “Busy night there, Sergeant Ross?” The smugness in their voices, nothing new but annoying nonetheless, made Olivia roll her eyes.

“Aren’t you guys supposed to be sleeping?” She laid on her bed-her legs dangling from the ends-feeling relaxed more than she was when sleeping next to Alex.

A loud bang on the hard metal door interrupted them. A young private recruit peaked inside, her cheeks going red as she came face to face with her seniors.

Raising her head from her bed, Olivia looked at the blushing Private edging around the door. “What is it, Private?”

“Uhm…”

“You need to speak faster, sister. No one’s going to be waiting that long for you to finish your sentences.” Sergeant Sloan, a blond beauty with Victoria’s Secret model’s look, said from her bunk on the other side of the room.

“I was told to get Sergeant Ross to Lieutenant Crowley.”

Olivia nodded at the soldier and she hurried out, closing the door behind her. “What does Crowley want?”

“Hopefully, he sends us somewhere. I’m tired of looking at the same old shaved heads around here.” Corporal Sierra said from her corner of the room. Both the ladies laughed at their joke, Sloan snorting while laughing and Sierra basking in her comedic skills. Olivia smiled looking at her fellow bunk mates, loving their laughter ringing in the dilapidated and make-shift room.

After taming her wild bed hair into a braid and pulling on a fresh set of clothes to meet the lieutenant, Olivia made her way towards the central meeting hub. Lieutenant Crowley was a balding man in his late fifties, irritating beyond belief and the epitome of a male chauvinist. Olivia looked at him while he shuffled through his folders and pulled out one to hand over to her.

“You need to go to Baqubah.” His nasally voice ordered, his height an inch shorter than hers.

“Sir?” Olivia looked down at the brown manila folder in her hand. Camp Warhorse was written below the bold printed letters of Baqubah.

“They had a water problem which was not fixed and now the militants have been targeting the food supply trucks entering the city.” He pulled out another folder from underneath the table, handing it to her with a grunt. “They need air support, but Command wants us to only send one. You can take the Little Bird and two Humvees with any twelve members for your unit. I’m making you responsible for the mission.”

“What are we to do there? Can’t we just drop food rather than driving it in-?” Olivia opened the first folder to find a letter of co-ordinates and sitreps from the Captain stationed at the camp.

“They have asked for help. You’ll meet with the Captain there and gauge the situation personally. Is that clear, Sergeant?”

When anyone pulls rank on the other, it usually means the conversation is over. So, Olivia with her two manila folders, nodded at Lieutenant Crowley and turned to walk away. “Sergeant, you leave in two hours.”

Perfect. She turned to nod at the Lieutenant who had already sat down to get back to his work.

Olivia made her way back towards the quarters from the hub. The base camp looked more alive now that almost everyone was awake. Loud music blared from the speakers with shirtless men playing basketball or getting their daily workout in. Olivia opened the folder and took the first paper in her hand; it was a sitrep from eight months ago from Captain Syverson about the blast at the water pump they were supposedly fixing. She went through the report, noticing Sergeant Harper’s name whom she personally knew from a previous mission.

Lost in her task at hand, Olivia missed the man coming her way and bumped into him, her steps faltering behind with the impact. When she looked up, the unmistaken glare of two narrowed blue-green eyes met her own. She let out a sigh even before he could speak another word.

“Captain Cooper,” She greeted the man whom she had only left a couple of hours ago. “Good morning.”

“You snuck out, again.” The harshness in his voice made Olivia remember why she despised this particular exchange of words in the morning. Alex, unlike the state she had left him in, was now dressed in his army pants and the beige army t-shirt with his hair groomed to the nines. Never a day did Alex show up with disheveled hair and unshaven, he was always the well-groomed kind of man that romance novels idealized about.

“Crowley wanted me for a briefing,” she showed him the folders, “We leave for Baqubah in under two hours. Going to be delivery guys for them.”

Alex scrunched his eyebrows as his attention from last night’s shenanigans were drawn to the mission at hand. He took the folders from her and shifted through the papers. “Baqubah? Wasn’t there an unsuccessful mission already?”

The change in his tone, from the attention seeking friend to a decorated military man, made Olivia realize why she had fallen for him in the first place. It was that very dedication to his work, the life choice that he had made, that had made her pursue him like an eagle does it’s prey.

Too bad the eagle realized it wasn’t really hungry.

“Liv?” Alex asked, the long lashes lining his eyes fluttering as he looked at her.

“Yeah, but there’s an insurgence of militants and food supply shortage.” He handed the folders back to her, crossing his arms over his chest. The sleeve of his t-shirt stretched over his muscles, revealing the tattoos on either side of his arms. A single vein stretched over each of his bulging biceps, taunting her with the memories of her tracing it with her fingertips.

Olivia shook her head, choosing to look behind Alex and spotting her unit coming her way. “I need to go. I haven’t even told my people.” She started to walk away when Alex held her wrist. She looked at him wide-eyed and frantically looked around to see if anyone was looking at them. This was the first time Alex was being so forthcoming about their twisted relationship out in the open.

“Were you going to at least say goodbye?”

Olivia froze hearing the pain in his voice. She did not wish to discuss whatever was going on between them. In a deep corner of her mind, she was secretly happy that she was being sent away from the base camp. It meant she could think about a way to gently let Alex know that they were done.

“Alex,” the use of his informal name, always made him smile. Olivia used it to her advantage on more than one occasion. “We need to head out. I need to brief them. Please can we do this later?”

She wanted to wait for his answer but when her eyes darted to the makeshift clock hanging on the wall, that the men had put together one night after getting drunk on local liquor, showed she had over an hour and half to roll out; Olivia mouthed a ‘sorry’ and walked away. She hated when she left Alex standing like that, alone and dejected. She was the cause of this shit-show, but she had no idea how to end it.

“Groundhog, this is echo 1-1, we are set to fly out the nest. Over.” Sergeant Gary Schmidt, Olivia's most trusted co-pilot, said into the communications line. They had gathered a group of twelve soldiers, including Olivia’s bunk mates Sloan and Sierra and were now ready to leave for Camp Warhorse. The blades of their chopper, the beautiful and reliable MH-6 Little Bird, whirred by cutting the dry air of Baghdad.

“This is Groundhog to Echo 1-1. You are cleared for flight. Over.”

Olivia looked to her right at Schmidt and gave a thumbs up. “Echo 1-1 is flying out. Welcome on board, people.” She said into her comms, controlling the stick and feeling the skids lift off from the ground.

In an unplanned glance towards the tarmac, Olivia caught sight of Alex standing a few feet away with his face impassive; lips pursed tight and eyes covered with shades, the last thing Olivia saw before they flew off from the Baghdad Base Camp.

“What a dump of desert and sand, Red.” Schmidt said into the comms to her, making her smile being referenced by her nickname and distracting her from the unsettling feeling she had by looking at Alex. Her command officer had jokingly compared her hair to fire after one heated argument she had with a fellow soldier and called her ‘Red’, making the name become a core part of her identity. “Baqubah better be forgiving.” Schmidt continued as they turned towards the road leading up to the destroyed city.

An hour into the flight and their comms came alive. “This is Warhorse to Echo 1-1.” Olivia looked at her co-pilot and nodded her head to take over the communications. In the distance, over the expanse of the dry desert, the heat was coming down hard on them, making little beads of sweat form on the underside of their helmets.

“Echo 1-1, receiving, over.”

“Echo 1-1, this is Captain Syverson,” the previous emotionless voice was replaced by a strongly accented one. Olivia was borderline impressed by Syverson's command in his voice. She looked at Schmidt at the same time he did-they always referred to each other as ‘twins’ because their minds were almost always in sync. “The tarmac is ready for your landing. Welcome to Warhorse.”

Chapter One>

✨Series Masterlist✨

Tagging: @wanderlustkitkat @michelehansel @stephartrave @yuhsophie @hennerslionhat @henrythickcavill @eldarwen333 @peakygroupie @klaine-92 @thelastsock @indigosaurus @oddsnendsfanfics @viking-raider @cavillliketravel @geralt-of-baevia @achaoticaugust @dancingwendigo @littlefreya @luclittlepond @mansaaay @agniavateira @inlovewithhisblueeyes @henryobsessed @henryfanfics101 @poucinette1333 @ohmygoodie @oolicity @wolvesandhoundshowltogether @asyverson @demivampirew @cavills-cavalry @raspberrydreamclouds @fuckoffbard @the-soot-sprite @hell1129-blog @inthenameofcavill @heartfelt-pen @shyinadarkplace @mary-ann84 @sciapod @toomanyfandomsshreya @madbaddic7ed @mariestark @feralrunaway @infinite-shite @killjoy-assbutt-1112 @summersong69​ @its--fandom--darling​ @awhitewolfandhisvibraniumshield

#captain syverson #captain syverson fanfic #captain syverson x ofc #captain syverson smut #henry cavill #chris evans #henry cavill fanfic #sand and stars series

[utterlyhopeful-fics]

Love on the Line - Part 6

A/N: It’s finally here!!!

MASTERLIST      P1         P2           P3          P4          P5

Henry Cavill x Reader

If I keep tagging you and you’re not interested or want to be tagged; please let know!

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: heartache, language, angst, a pinch of lovey dovey fluff, cliffhanger 

*****************************

“Ohhh myy god…it’s official. This is the best burger of my life, hands down.”

What could easily be perceived as orgasmic music delightfully made its way to his ears. Seb chuckled studying the beautiful girl across from him admiring her combination of burger grease, ketchup, and mustard staining her chin. Y/N was too lost in the delicious meal to notice Seb gleefully watching her. In an instant his hand wiped away the condiment catching Y/N by surprise. She smiled bashfully blushing.

“Told you I knew a place.”

She sighed genuinely happy in them moment; “I could die a happy girl tomorrow because of this sweet, juicy perfection of a burger. All thanks to you.”

“What can I say? I have good taste.”

“And how did you run across this wonderous joint? Kinda feels off the beaten path.”

“Well, when you fly as much as me you learn to ask around. I never trust the internet when it comes to what I put in my body. I like to know what and where the locals scavenge for a tasty meal.”

“You continue to surprise me …I admire your style, Seb. Original, classy, and you no doubt just about charm the pants off any person who walks your way.”

“Is it working now?” He flashed his most flirtatious smile devouring another sweet potato fry.

Quick on her feet, she shot back with wit and attitude; “Should it be?”

“I gotta say Y/N, I’ve never been happier to wake someone up on a plane until I met you.”

“Damn, you’re suave, Seb. Fucking suave.”

Her eyes bulged from their sockets at her crude choice of words; “Shit, I’m sorry. Ah, fuck.”

His laugh flew through the air like wind on a crisp fall evening; her cheeks flushed.

“I’m not usually such a sailor. Guess you bring out the best in me.”

“I don’t mind a bit. In fact, I kinda like that I fluster you if I’m being honest.”

“So smooth. Are you sure you’re not from LA?  I get the sense that’s a requirement in these parts?”

He shook his head in stark disagreement; “Nope, sorry to disappoint you. Just a common foreigner.”

“And a handsome one at that.”

Shocked at her boldness, Y/N stared down at the remnants of food moving her fries as a distraction from his adorable gaze.

“I haven’t felt this at ease in …well I can’t remember. It’s nice.”

“Couldn’t agree more. I never actually asked what brings you here?”

Seb nervously scratched the back of his head; “Uh, work. Like I said, I travel pretty frequently. Hollywood is a hub of sorts for me. What brings you here?”

“Okay, okay, I’ll take the hint and pry later. Well, I’m a writer and some big exec wants to discuss the rights to my book series. So, yeah.”

“Y/N, that’s amazing! Are you secretly a super hero, part of the Avengers maybe?”

“Hahah, flattery will certainly get you far. No doubts there.”

“You’re too kind, Y/N. I’m definitely far from perfect.”

“Good. Perfection is overrated. Flaws are attractively imperfect. I mean at the end of the day we’re only human.”

“Consider me intrigued. I’ve gotta stop by a bookstore and check you out now!”

“Oh, hush! If you must know, I try to keep a low profile. So, uh, how long are you here for?”

“A couple days. I’ve got a bit of free time after my meeting tomorrow and thinking of hitting some trails while I’m here. Don’t get me wrong, LA is cool and all, but kinda suffocating. I try and maintain my distance if possible.”

“Oh, you’re preaching to the choir. The hustle and bustle of London is the literal definition of overwhelming. Countryside getaways were my one true savior. Sometimes London feels like an overpacked sardine can just waiting to explode.”

“So why did you stay?”

Y/N bit her lip trying to keep quiet. She hadn’t once though of Henry since meeting Seb. The lump in her throat appeared by just the mere mention of her subconscious. A part of her wasn’t ready to reveal the ache left beneath her exterior.

“Friends and family. What else ties a person to one place?”

“Love? A relationship?”

His coyness was flattering. She gave into his curiosity.  

“Are you asking if I’m single?” Her feigned expression was enough to send him into a fit of harmonious laughter.

“Maybe, maybe not. Depends on your answer, I guess. Part of me believes you’re too good to be true which usually means taken.”

“HA, no. Relationships and I are not on speaking terms at the moment.”

“Ah, sounds like heartbreak hotel is just around the corner….”

“I recently got out of a long-term relationship. So, to answer your question; Yes, I’m single and so not ready to mingle.”

“Are you assuming I’m hitting on you?” His shocked appearance made her question their entire encounter and if she’d been reading the signs wrong all along.

“Well, good thing I’m only here for the coffee and platonic company, hm?”

Seb raised his mug in salute as her stress magically melted away; “Break-ups suck. But allow for a real opportunity to see who you really are. Pain can be a bitter reminder of sadness and strength.”

“Wow, philosophizing so soon into our newly found friendship? A man after my own heart!”

Y/N playfully placed her hand over her heart, smiling for particular reason.

“How about if you’re interested and only 100% positive you aren’t sick of my company; we do dinner or even drinks? Whichever the lady chooses.”

Seb motioned in jest. Y/N tried to remember the last time she’d felt so carefree unable to pin down an exact memory. For far to long Y/N trapped herself in a fog allowing Henry to rule over her even when he wasn’t physically there. It had to stop, she had to quit placing him on a pedestal if she had any luck of moving on from their failed love affair. One torturous long minute passed as Seb’s nerved ramped up.

“Shit, I’m that weird dude, now. Forget I asked and let’s chalk it up to an amazing afternoon as strangers who leave this diner and head back to our own separate lives without consequence?”

Again, Y/N was speechless contemplating what she truly wanted to do next.

“First things first, stop blubbering, you seriously are ungodly handsome. And on second note, our chance meeting was unexpected but kinda sorta awesome. I’d love to see you again. I can’t recall the last time I’ve felt so free…and don’t even get me started on the belly aches due to your comedic skills.”

“Damn, a woman that speaks her mind. Are you sure you’re not in politics?”

“Nope, never, no thank you. Sooo, it’s a date?”

Seb furrowed his eyebrow in pleasant surprise; “You said it, not me.”

Y/N rolled her eyes; “Yeah, yeah. What do the kids say nowadays…. YOLO?”

“Yes, and please never say that again.”

A napkin holder was placed strategically resting against the window sill. Seb signaled to their middle-aged waitress; “Pardon me, do you have a pen handy?”

“Course, darling. Anything for ya.” She winked dropping the pen on the edge of the checkered table leaving them to privacy. He scribbled his number on the grainy piece of paper and slid it her way.

“I’ll leave the ball in your court and pass the privilege of reaching out to confirm details.”

“Wow, and they say chivalry is dead? Obviously not in Romania.”

“What fine establishment do they have you shacking up in?”

“Chateau Marmont. Long story short, my publisher fully embraces and understands my introverted nature and love of historical hotels. Call me an oddball.”

“Oddball.”

They snickered like school children slowly understanding their time was coming to a close. A power, a force of sorts gravitated Y/N towards him. He felt the same way.

“I happen to think women who especially history buffs are so incredibly magnificent. I haven’t met many as beautiful as you.

Their flirtation skyrocketed like flicks of fire firing between them.

“Knowledge is like your super power…. also, intelligent women are a complete turn on.”

She swatted his arm smiling like a kid in a candy shop.

“Come on, let’s get outta here. I’ll drop you off.”

He offered his hand helping Y/N to her feet. She lingered a second too long. With Seb a couple steps behind her, she missed the clinch of his fists and Seb’s reddened cheeks.

---The Next Day---

No luxury was forgotten as Y/N observed her decadent hotel room, but no matter how comfortable the memory foam or high thread count sheets, Y/N tossed restlessly the whole night. Her anxieties attacking her mind at every possible angle. Worry engulfed her clutching on her own insecurities. Her fear? 

That she’d walk into David Fincher’s office and leave very humiliated and very far from home. Henry’s ghost loitered just out of reach. A ghost can be many a thing; a memory, a daydream, a secret, but most times, a wish. Old or new. But that was the past, memories she must let go of.

Y/N stared at the ceiling wishing her bed to open up and swallow her whole finally dozing off to her temporary dreamland. But sunlight painted the walls like a colorful painting. She stretched and moaned at the sensations of her waking bones.

Making her way to the bathroom, Y/N’s phone chimed forcing her to circle back towards the obnoxious device.

Seb: Buna dimineata prietene! (Good Morning, friend)

Y/N: Romanian? So early in the morning. How dare you sir?

Blinking dots ran across the screen as Y/N waited impatiently for his witty response.

Seb: Never too early for greatness. As they say in the theater, break a leg! But not an actual leg because I might be looking forward to our date. Okay, good luck with the meeting!

Y/N: Thanks for the good juju. Same to you! Call you later.

She unconsciously rubbed at the tender swell in her chest, the fluttering in her belly kicking wildly. Butterflies. It’d been ages since she’d been this excited and it surprised Y/N. Maybe she was ready for something more…Y/N shook her head ridding herself of such silly thoughts. She knew better than to rush full steam ahead.

    ---Later that day---

The fourteenth floor was decorated to architectural perfection. Every space had its purpose and the décor elegantly stylish.  There she stood in the presence of cinematic greatness! As Y/N was about to pinch herself, she heard an echo of a name. Looking up, she searched for the unknown voice before landing on an enthusiastic figure waving her direction.

“Y/N! So nice to finally see you in person. I’m Meg.”

“Meg, so glad to put a face to a name. Thank you for having me.”

Both women walked down a hallway lined of glass walls smiling at those who looked up.

“David has talked nonstop about your series. So much so that I ended up devouring your books in three days. You’re freaking brilliant!”

“You really think so? I worked my ass off to get it through any publishing house. I was on the verge of chucking my ideas in the trash and getting an actual job that paid real money if it wasn’t for a last-ditch effort.”

“I’ve blocked off a thirty-minute window before his next meeting begins. He’s booked back-to-back today but by no means feel rushed. He hates when I push him. Don’t tell him I said that.”

Her head bobbed nonchalantly taking notice of the stunning scenery from the 17th level.

“Alright, here goes nothing.”

“Best of luck, Y/N.”

Meg knocked; “Come in!”

“David, this is Y/N.”

“Thanks, Meg. Close the door behind ya, we’ve got loads to discuss.”

David extended his hand towards Y/N’s shaking firmly. Y/N reminded herself to breath and to quickly find her manners.

She stuttered trying to remember common speech causing David to laugh aloud.

“Ms. Y/N, you okay?”

“Yyess—just a tad shell shocked. I mean, I can’t believe I’m standing in a room with the David Fincher. Unbelievable, really. Thank you for taking the time to meet with me.”

“I should be the one thanking you. You wrote one hell of a series that I trust can be transferred stunningly over to the silver screen where it can be fully appreciated. I’ve never seen someone mold together so many genres with such ease yet adding a layer of complexity. You, young lady, kept me guessing every twist and turn. That doesn’t happen too often if you catch my drift.”

“I-I, it’s just nice all those late-night writing sessions and waiting tables paid off. I’ll have you know I was on the verge of giving it all up and going back to school.”

“So, let’s get down to details. My team and I have come up with an offer that is totally open for negotiations.”

David slid a piece of paper into view. Y/N stared at the parchment gob smacked. Her jaw fell open at the written proposal.

“Holy shit.” Her eyes snapped up at her vulgar language; “Shit! I don’t mean to be impolite.”

“Ha, it’s a bit flabbergasting upon first glance but I promise you I want to do everything in my power to make this work for both parties.”

“Am I…am I reading this correctly?”

“Indeed, $10 million for the first two films, advancing to an additional $13, $15, $17 million for the last three. Of course, aiding us in the writer’s room to make sure we bring your story to live through your eyes. This will undoubtfully increase book sales across the board, I’d say upwards of $60 million if all goes accordingly. Also, I didn’t forget about making you an executive producer.”

“You’re kidding me, riight? Am I dreaming?”

“You’re gonna be a big deal once the tabloids get their sticky fingers on this. I mean this is going to skyrocket you to the likes of Stephenie Meyer and Suzanne Collins status. I mean, I had to outbid Peter Jackson just for a chance at directing this masterpiece. Darling, you’re all Hollywood can talk about right now.”

“Wow, I’m, uh, seriously grateful. I guess I’ve been shacking up in London far too long. I don’t really read celeb gossip so needless to say I’ve been in my own bubble.”

“A huge thank you goes out to Henry Cavill for pitching the initial idea. He helped get the recognition you deserve. Nice fellow, that one.”

Momentary shock came over her face, mouth still agape; “He—Henry had a hand in this?”

“Most certainly. He was the one who brought it to my attention. Of course, he mentioned the desire to work with me was motivation enough, but genuinely, he seemed passionate about the project.”

“I-I had no idea.” Switching gears as fast as possible Y/N trotted forth; “So realistically, when can we get the ball rolling?”

“Once the proper documents are signed and stamped, we’re good to go. If negotiations aren’t necessary, I’d say within the next month or so we can start casting calls, booking air fare, figuring out destination shoots, getting a manuscript going. It comes together faster than people think. How about this; you mull it over, call whoever you need, and get back at me in the next couple of days. Sound good?”

“Sounds more than good! I think I’ll be forever be in your debt, Mr. Fincher.”

“Please, call me David. We have a long road ahead of us that has truly stoked a fire in me, all thanks to you.”

Her nerves triumphed pushing Henry to the back of her mind. Y/N had bigger fish to fry.

“May I be frank with you, David?”

“By all means.”

“As you probably know Henry’s my ex-fiancée. Is it true you’re possibly considering him for the lead role?”

David looked around quizzically composing himself.

“I figured we’d have to address the elephant in the office. Yes, I was aware and I didn’t consider him to be malicious. He’s a genius actor and I figured it was worth a chat. But if you’re worried about anything, just say the word.”

“No, no. I wouldn’t want to jeopardize his successes. I agree, he’s an untapped actor full of surprising talent. I’ll be okay.”

“You promise?”

“Yep.”

“Great! Rest assured he isn’t even in the country. Believe he’s still galivanting about London.”

Silently pleading to change the subject, Y/N snapped out of it as quickly as she flew in to.

“This is a dream come true. I’m really looking forward to working with you and bringing my story to life.”

The squeaky hinge of the door alerted her to Meg’s foreboding presence. Taking a cue, Y/N stood up shaking David’s hand beaming like a child on Christmas Eve.

“I’ll be in touch, Y/N. Until then, enjoy your stay. Venture out. You’ll find LA isn’t all plastic and bullshit.”

“Oh, thank god. For a second I was getting nervous.”

“Haha! Meg, next appointment here?”

“Yes, he’s right around the cor--.”

“Y/N?”

She searched for the familiar voice unable to pin it down.

“Seb!? Wha...what are you doing here? I thought you had that big meeting today?”

“Uh, I do. That’s why I’m here.”

Sebastian nervously scratched his neck. Bewildered and thoroughly confused Y/N pushed on; “Wait a minute…. Are you an ...?”

“Actor, yes.”

“Whoa, whoa whoa. Wait.”

“Holy shit. You’re Shirley Lovecraft. Catchy pseudo name. So, you’re the brains behind this witty madness. What an interesting turn of events if I do say so myself, a happy one.”

“Agreed. I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you. Kinda embarrassing.”

“Don’t. A perfect afternoon with someone who wasn’t using me for fame or money? Did I mention you look breathtaking today?”

Her cheeks fumed with heat stirring her butterflies back to life. Seb’s hand stilled on her waist unwilling to let go as they continued gazing at the other.

“Earth to Seb?

Seb broke eye contact first glancing over at David. Y/N was too busy memorizing the glimmer of his cobalt blue eyes.

“Yes, ah! So rude of me. Hello there, so great of you to squeeze me in. I appreciate it.”

He directed his attention towards Y/N once more leaning close to the shell of her ear; “Still on for drinks later?”

“Definitely.”

His wink sparked a jolt to her core leaving her weak in the knees. Somehow, some way, Y/N mustered enough confidence to walk without tripping. She glowed the whole walk to the elevator. Y/N pressed the button too lost in thought to hear the quiet ding of arrival strolling straight into a hard chest. Enormous hands grasped her shoulders; “Oh! Apologies Ms.”

“No, it’s my fault. I wasn’t paying atten—oh shit.”

Only one particularly charming British accent that could send a chill down her spine, one very distinguishable voice indeed. 

“Y/N?”

Time froze icily still.

“What the fuck? Henry??”

~~~~~~~~~~

Tags:  @thedeadhearted @giveusbackourbucky @henry-cavill-obsessed  @onlyhenrys @omgkatinka @thereisa8ella @threeminutesoflife @homewreckingwreck @gemini0410 @maan14@bluegalaxyprime @sofiebstar @whyyykitkat @encounterthepast  @readermia @ly-canthropewrites @scorpionchild81 @henrythickcavill @snowbellexx @stephartrave @agniavateira  @cap-barnes @henryfanfics101  @mary-ann84 @westcoast-nightowl @poledancingdinos  @justaboringadult @peakygroupie  @nalathefirefly @vikingsbifrost @bloodyinspiredfuck @moderapoppins @cooldiva1234 @icedcoffeeismythang @titty-teetee @summersong69 @kaatelyyynn @missursulacalmet @michelehansel @iloveyouyen @shyshu @star017 @raynosaurus-rex @radkesgirl83 @starrynite7114  @wheretheriversrunintothesea @i-love-scott-mccall  @darkbooksarwin @ellieseymour70 @designerwriterchic @studywithrosie01 @dangerouslovefanfic @lebguardians @crazybutconfidentaf @hen-cavill  @cavill-sass @oh-for-fic-sake @icedbottles @buckysgoldenheart @brexrif @gryffindorwriter @laketaj24 @foxyjwls007 @lawsofthejungle @henrycavillfanpage @kaboogie21 @fangirl199812 @gothicninibalor @qualitynightkoala @strictlybuckybarnes @toomanyfandomsshreya @hersilencescreams-blog​ @viking-raider​ @sesamepancakes​  @madbaddic7ed​ @fuckoffbard​ @funfickgirl22​ @inlovewithhisblueeyes​ @wolvesandhoundshowltogether​ @hoeforhenry​ @henrycavills-babe​ @abschaffer2​ @loving-this​ @one-of-those-fanfiction-blogs​ @lovelycavills​ @beck07990​ @bokillylovesloki​ @michelehansel​

#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x y/n #henry x y/n #henry cavill fic #henry cavill fanfic #my writing #henry cavill fluff #love on the line #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill oneshot #fanfic

[lizacstuff]

Your thoughts on the first episode of the new season? And can we talk about all those parallels? Also I'm loving the summer vibes!

I'm LIVING for the summer vibes! Doesn't everything feel like a breath of fresh air? I definitely feel like new life has been injected into the series. And that new location is so beautiful, I LOVE IT.

As for the episode, I thought it was masterfully done. You could tell Ayse was back and bringing the perfect mix of comedy, romance and drama. And the sparkle! The show sparkles again. The almost two and half hours flew buy, I was on the edge of my seat, and the performances from Hande and Kerem were amazing. Plus I just adore every moment between Serkan and his new nemesis (aka his secret daughter).

On the sober side, I don't care how jerky Serkan got while battling cancer, or how he may have pushed her away, nothing they've shown us so far even begins to justify Eda not telling him about Kiraz, and it certainly doesn't justify her continuing to lie when he's standing right in front of her making overtures (and her daughter is clearly longing for her father). Obviously, there are still many things we don't know and I'm sure there are many flashbacks to come, and Eda has been though so much, but still...I don't see how they will thread that needle and have Eda come out unscathed.

That being said, with this first episode they executed this story so well and it really does give new life to the series, so I won't dwell on the fact that Eda never would have done this. Never. We just have to move past it, accept that it's a soap opera plot device designed to give us an amazing second season packed with all sorts of amazing scenes and just enjoy every minute while it lasts.

(More under the cut)

I'll get to more on Edser later, as for everyone else... silliness abounds.

First... Erdem cheated on Leyla? WHAT!?!?! With whom? But I guess that was a clean way to explain Leyla leaving.

Engin and Piril, I love that Engin is staying home with their son, and that young actor is a cutie! As for Piril... GRRRRRR... she is still on my shitlist. Last time it was for betraying Eda (and Serkan) by enabling Selin's reign of terror, this time it's by betraying her friend and business partner Serkan! Good grief. If Piril just found out recently at the start of this project I could accept on her holding off because it's not her secret to run off and tell, but what I can't accept is her actively working against Serkan finding out. Even if in this episode she had gently said to Eda... "do you think maybe it's time you told him?" it would be a lot easier to swallow... but nope! She's acting like it would be the end of the world if Serkan found out. I sincerely hope that when everyone finds out and Engin finds out Piril knew, it causes problems between them. She deserves that.

She remains my second least favorite character. Who was my least favorite character this episode? Oh you know! Awful Ayfer is back! We got a reprieve from her in the last arc, but she's back to her annoying, controlling, Serkan-hating ways. Eda is a mother, an international award-winning landscape architect and business owner and she still has to lie to Ayfer because she's such a pain-in-the-ass? Watching her is going to be a trial.

Even though it feels like both Aydan and Ayfer were reset to zero character development, and Aydan has done worse (keeping the fact that Serkan was alive from Eda) I still find her a much easier character to take. Probably because Neslihan is a much better comedic actress, so she's a lot more entertaining. But... Aydan's been with Kemal for 5 years and hasn't told Serkan? WHY? I can't believe Kemal didn't give her an ultimatum years ago. I was loving, however, Serkan being in the way for both Aydan/Kemal and Engin/Piril. GOOD. Those people caused problems for him at one point or another or were in the way, it was nice to see him return the favor. I like Kemal and am still hoping they'll do a parallel "not knowing your father thing" and reveal he's Serkan's bio dad while Serkan is finding out he had a child he never knew about.

Melo and Seyfi were their awesome supportive, funny selves. It was great to see both of them, I'm so glad they stayed.

As for the new characters, love the kids. The new hotel manager is apparently ditzy and starstruck over Serkan, and I don't really understand how she's going to be integrated into the cast, but I love that she was used as a device to show us that Serkan has zero interest in any woman who is not Eda Yildiz. Eda's assistant seems like he'll be a fine side character. As for Burak, he seems harmless, obviously he has feeling for Eda that she does not reciprocate (fuck off Ayfer trying to push her on him) but hopefully they don't make him a psycho like Deniz. I did think he was a bit out of line to Serkan. Isn't that his cafe? And a customer has his glass spilled by a child in his care, and he insults him instead of apologizing? That is the worst customer service I've ever seen! He's a character that could wear on me quickly, we shall see. Kiraz can't help but be sassy because of genetics, but some of the adults in her life seem to be modeling rude behavior!

Now on to Eda and Serkan, I can't say enough about Hande and Kerem's acting in this episode. Phenomenal! They were both brilliant. Plus both are doing a great job working off of Maya (especially Kerem) those scenes were priceless. I don't often enjoy kids on shows, but so far I'm loving this dynamic.

As for Edser, while we don't know everything yet it feels like Serkan got to a point where he couldn't stand to see Eda in pain and putting her life on hold, he outright mentioned that she might not have graduated if they'd stayed together, and so that was part of the reason he reverted to his robot self and pushed her away. I'm going to guess she tried and tried and he was just unyielding. Saying he didn't want to get married or have kids in the harshest way possible. Perhaps even she went to tell him that she was pregnant and he went off on not wanting kids before she could even tell him. Time will tell.

At this juncture, my best guess is Eda's fear is rooted in rejection. It can't be that she thinks Serkan is a terrible person that doesn't deserve to know his child, or would be detrimental to Kiraz. However, she knows what it feels like to be rejected by Serkan, I'm sure she was beyond devastated, so I'm guessing now she's bent on protecting her daughter from feeling that same rejection. She fears if he found out, but wanted nothing to do with her, it would feel worse than him not knowing. She's not thinking clearly and perhaps it hasn't even occurred to her that the man she fell in love with is still under there and that man is fully capable of opening his heart wide to their child.

The fact that this child, a stranger to him, already has him wrapped around her little finger to the tune of being late to meetings while he waits for her to pick berries, speaks volumes.

The lies that Eda is telling Kiraz though... there is a fairy tale poetry to Eda saying her father is among the stars... but there was no way this would ever end well. Such a bad idea. Eda.... has made mistakes.

As for Eda and Serkan, their reunion was so bitter sweet. The way Serkan was sure he was hallucinating her and couldn't believe she was real, speaks to the fact that his thinking he saw her that morning was not an anomaly. It must happen all the time. She's never left his thoughts in 5 years. Especially since Engin makes it clear that women throw themselves at Serkan all the time, and he never bites. That's a lot of years celebrate, pining after a love he lost through his own actions. Though it's not that surprising that he didn't pursue other women, as he's never been a character who was motivated by sex. Which makes it hilarious that during his presentation that's where his mind was at, remembering their intimate times together. Serkan Bolat is an Edasexual.

Serkan seemed to want to brush past what happened between them, how they ended, but from Eda's pain, it's clear it was gut-wrenching and tragic and that's something he's going to need to recon with in the coming episodes. But how refreshing that they actually talked! That Eda actually expressed her pain to him! Wowza, that's a change from recent episodes when they didn't even have a proper conversation after he got his memory back.

The flashback scenes were a combination of pure brilliance and pain. Just rip out my heart why don't you. Serkan's angry reactions seem very believable for someone suffering what he was going through. I think it's typical to lash out at the person closest to you. And their fear and pain, their commitment to getting him better and seeing it through... those scenes were made all the more heartbreaking knowing that they didn't make it out the other side intact.

On a lighter note, I loved how even despite their intention and best efforts to remain closed off to one another, and away from one another, they couldn't. Physically, Serkan couldn't stay away, and every time Eda was in his presence you saw her resolve slip and her start to feel that old pull towards him. The fact that Eda thinks there's any way to keep this secret and get rid of him, she must just be in full panic mode and not thinking clearly. She's never going to shake him.

Thank goodness Serkan came back and actually issued a sincere apology for what he said at coffee. He definitely owed her one, but what was extraordinary is that it showed that the growth he went through when they were together didn't regress. He was able to apologize and explain that he was angry and hurt and that's why it happened. If you remember from the first time around, saying sorry was something he was just unable to do, so this felt big to me. He's not the same robot Bolat, she left an indelible mark on him.

As for him making her present her proposal, it's really not out-of-line for the professional relationship, however, we all know he did it just so he had an excuse to be around her. That man will take any excuse, plus he likes to get a rise out of her.

The dinner scene was breathtaking. How beautiful and achingly romantic was that setting? Wowza. And what a roller coaster of emotion those scenes were. It was great to watch them talk and laugh. Who didn't swoon when he deveined her shrimp and when she gave him fries? But we had to know it wouldn't last. Eda's speech had me breathless. Serkan had that coming, it hurt but it had to happen. What a relief to see them get things out in the open. Now I hope we get to see them really talk about what happened and why. Explain yourself Serkan!

As for the next episode, I was so hopeful that the Kiraz secret would be out after the final scene, but the first fragman makes it look like that's not going to happen, at least not at the start of the episode. My fear is that if Eda outright lies to him that just makes everything worse. The longer she keeps it from him, when they're back in each other's orbits and it's clear he's not running away, it makes her more and more at fault.

In any case, it looks like we're in for some fabulous scene so I look forward to the second episode!

#Sen Çal Kapımı #Sen Cal Kapimi #edser #sck discussion #edser discussion #sck episode discussion #sck 2x40 #edser meta #sckask #asklizac #anonymous

[spoadicdeviance]

When “Anger Always Wins In The End”: The Story of X-Play vs Skyward Sword

Gather around the Barcalounger over by the fireplace friends, family, and those who only come to the Skyward Sword tag to bash the game in question. Old SporadicDeviance is going to tell you a tale that harkens back from the far distant past of 2011. It’s going to be a quite a long story, so you might want to get comfy.

The Legend of Zelda Skyward Sword was making its rounds across the mainstream game review circuit, largely earning 9′s and 10′s across the boards. The game also ended becoming one of the very few games to earn perfect scores from both EDGE magazine and Famitsu. Talks of potential Game of the Year awards were already underway. 

Yes it seemed Skyward Sword would experience nothing but smooth sailing when it comes to the gaming media.

Enter X-Play; the TV show focused on game coverage airing on the network dedicated to gaming and technology (in the sense that MTV used to be dedicated to music) G4.

Starting in summer 1998, as GameSpot TV, and ultimately concluding its run by the start of 2013, this show was perhaps the most popular source of game reviews in its heyday. In fact, with the shows propensity to include heavy layers of snark and cynicism in their reviews, as well as having the tendency of preforming comedic skits based on the various games they covered, one could say that X-Play was one of the progenitors of various online independent game reviewers that started from around 2006 and continue to the present day.

“Why bring up the show’s history?” One may ask. Well its important to establish that the programs was very popular with a substantial viewership, even in its final years of broadcast.

Which brings us to the moment that X-Play and Skyward Sword crossed paths.

It all started with the shows review of the game and the program ultimately giving Skyward Sword an overall score of a 4 out of 5. This caused a bit of stir amongst X-Play’s audience.

Now, on the surface, a score like that wouldn’t appear to be anything to really harp on about. Sure, a 4 out of 5 score was on the lower end of the range of scores Skyward Sword was receiving at the time. Nevertheless, a 4 out of 5 was still overall a good score. 

However, as said before, this is all surface level. To get a full understanding of why some gamers were questioning X-Play’s review, you have to look at both how X-Play defines its rating scale as well as the content of the review itself, beyond the final score.

First let’s talk about X-Play’s ratings scale. In 2011 the program updated the meaning behind each of the five different ratings. For a game to earn a 5 out of 5, the game would have to “realize all ambitions of its design” while a 4 out of 5 game would only accomplish most of its goals.

Well Skyward Sword’s goal was to be the proof of concept on what the Wii’s intent was as a console. The game’s ambition was to show the world that motion controls not only be practical as the primary means of control for a AAA game but also in some ways surpass traditional controls in terms of immersion and practicality. Does that mean by giving Skyward Sword a 4 out of 5, X-Play thinks Skyward Sword didn’t fully accomplish its ambition?

No. They didn’t think Skyward Sword failed in that regard. In fact, in their review of the game, X-Play stated that despite initial skepticism on Skyward Sword going all in on motion controls, hosts Adam Sessler and Morgan Webb were pleasantly shocked with how good the controls felt, saying that the Wii-Motion Plus controls were fluid, responsive, seamless, and never frustrating. They also stated that if all Wii games controlled just was well as Skyward Sword then a large majority of complaints lobbied against the system would never have materialized.

So what caused the show to give Skyward Sword a 4 out of 5? According to X-Play’s 2011 rating system and game needs to have “minor flaws” on order to get a 4 out of 5 score. So what did X-Play think were said flaws?

Well X-Play used the trite “revisit certain areas of the game” non-criticism that I’ve already touched on in a prior post. It’s weird since games like Metroid Prime also used backtracking and X-Play still gave those games perfect 5 out of 5 scores.

They also said that there wasn’t much to do in the Sky overworld, which is outright wrong considering all of the goddess treasures and various sky islands that have their own minigames/sub quests to do. Yes its mainly side content but almost every Zelda overworlds are mainly used for side content and linking the various areas in the map. I think I’ll go more in depth on the whole “The Sky is too empty.” criticism in another post.

Then they complained about how your shield can break and you would have to go back to Skyloft in order to purchase a new shield. Seriously? This is like when people complain that in Banjo Kazooie, when you die, you have to recollect all the music notes. That’s the point. The game is punishing you for messing up during the combat. Also the game doesn’t force you to purchase a new shield. You can play the game without a shield if you choose to do so.

I would say the shield bit is the worst criticism in the review if it wasn’t for the frankly dumb, and hilarious in hindsight, critique of Skyward Sword’s crafting system. Adam called the system “grindy” and said that crafting doesn’t fit in a Zelda game. Considering how Breath of the Wild not only has a crafting system, but also, by X-Play’s standards, made it more grindy than it was in Skyward Sword, I think even Skyward Sword’s biggest detractors can call this assessment of Skyward Sword crafting system half-baked at best.

And those were the flaws X-Play found in Skyward Sword. Even if those critiques were legitimate, and let’s face it they’re not, it doesn’t seem like these flaws are enough to justify docking Skyward Sword an entire point in a 5 point rating system, does it?

Well according to a lot of fans of the show, it wasn’t. Fans were speculating that X-Play wasn’t really sincere in their giving Skyward Sword a 4 out of 5. Some thinking that they set out to not give the game a perfect score and were grasping at straws trying to find any justification for their score, rather than have their final score come naturally as they played/reviewed the game.

By all accounts, Skyward Sword seemed to have been more deserving of a 5 out of 5 score rather than a 4 out of 5, according to a lot of X-Play’s viewership. 

Viewer response to Skyward Sword’s 4 out of 5 score might have been the primary reason X-Play revamped their ratings scale the following year, using “half-stars” in its ratings (ultimately making the rating system a 10 point scale) as well as reworking the conditions for a 5 out of 5 score. Now for a game to achieve a 5 out of 5 a game doesn’t have to achieve all of its design ambitions and merely not have any “issues” which would result in a 4 out of 5.

My suspicion that the viewer response to the Skyward Sword review was the catalyst for the change is only strengthened by the fact that X-Play used Skyward Sword as their example of a 4 out of 5 game in their new ratings system. 

But despite all that, the backlash to X-Play’s review was relatively minor, especially compared to the backlash a certain other professional reviewer got for giving Skyward Sword a lower score compared to X-Play, but that’s a tale for another time.

This isn’t the main part of the the story. X-Play’s review of Skyward Sword and the viewer response to said review were all the primer for the centerpiece of this tale.

It’s now time for the awards season. All the various gaming publications were nominating and awarding the best games of 2011. Skyward Sword managed to get itself plenty of nominations, including Overall Game of the Year from publications like EDGE.

But what about X-Play? What awards did they nominate Skyward Sword for?

Did X-Play nominate Skyward Sword for Game of the Year? 

No.

Did X-Play nominate Skyward Sword for Best Action/Adventure Game? 

No

Did X-Play nominate Skyward Sword for Most Innovative Game? 

No. .

Did X-Play nominate Skyward Sword for Best Story? 

No.

Did X-Play nominate Skyward Sword for Best Art Direction? 

No.

All Skyward Sword was nominated for were Best Soundtrack and Best Motion Controls.

And you want to know the really messed up part; Skyward Sword only won for Best Soundtrack and lost the Best Motion Controls award to Dance Central 2. Let that sink for a beat. DDR Kinect 2 Dance Central 2 apparently had better motion controls than Skyward Sword according to X-Play. This despite of all the praise the show gave Skyward Sword’s controls in its review. This is like when the Queen bio-pic, Bohemian Rhapsody, won the Oscar for “Best Editing”. Are you kidding me?! But I digress.

Needless to say, if viewers were just a little peeved with X-Play’s review of Skyward Sword, they were outright mad with how the show basically snubbed Skyward Sword from its award show. 

The vast majority of gamers felt that, even if the game would ultimately not win many awards, Skyward Sword should have at least had more than two (relatively minor) award nominations and should have been nominated for Game of the Year. X-Play was being called out, rightfully so, for not giving Skyward Sword its fair dues.

But all was not lost for Skyward Sword, for while X-Play would have full control on which games were nominated and which game would win the majority the awards, the fans would have their own say for one certain award.

G4 decided to do what they called a “Videogame Deathmatch”. This was basically a tournament consisting of 32 games released in 2011. 

Each round would have multiple games paired off to face off against each other. The general public would go online and vote for one of the two games in each match to go on to the next round. The first round had people vote between 16 pairs of games. The next round would have 8. Etc. Etc. This would culminate in a final round where the two winners of each side of the bracket would face off and the people would vote between these last two games to decide which game would win the tournament and would receive the Viewer’s Choice Award at  X-Play’s Best of 2011 Award Show.

Skyward Sword was one of the 32 games selected for the tournament, whether it was because G4 honestly thought the game deserved a chance to win or they were simply trying to placate fans of the game.

I would say the latter because the side of the bracket Skyward Sword was on was definitely the more competitive side of the two. How more competitive? Well while the side of the bracket Skyward Sword was on had games like Portal 2, Minecraft, Uncharted 3, Batman Arkham City and The Elder Scroll V: Skyrim, the game that would become the finalist for the other side of the bracket was Assassin’s Creed: Revelations. Does that answer your question?

So Skyward Sword faced some stiff competition. It really seemed like G4 and X-Play did not want Skyward Sword to win this tournament so they made sure it would go head to head against some of the most popular games of 2011. It was going to be a miracle if Skyward Sword made it to the final round.

Well let me tell you something; a miracle did occur that year.

In round 1, Skyward Sword went up against Uncharted 3, the flagship PS3 title of 2011, and the fans voted for Skyward Sword over Uncharted 3.

In round 2, Skyward sword went head to head against Fifa 12, the latest entry of the videogame series based off of the most popular sport in the world, and the majority chose Skyward Sword over Fifa 12. 

In round 3, Skyward Sword faced off against Batman Arkham City, the game that is considered to be one of the greatest superhero games ever made (if not the greatest), and Skyward Sword got more votes than Batman Arkham City.

In the semi-finals, Skyward Sword went one on one against The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, one of the best selling games of all time, and the gamers chose The Legend of Zelda Skyward Sword over Skyrim.

Needless to say when Skyward Sword went up against Assassin’s Creed: Revelations, a game that even fans of the Assassin’s Creed franchise don’t hold in the highest regards (at least it’s not Unity?) in the final round, the vote went overwhelmingly in Skyward Sword’s favor.

The end result was that Skyward Sword won G4TV’s Videogame Deathmatch: Best of 2011 Tournament and was awarded the Viewer’s Choice Award for 2011.

Now when it came time to officially announce the winner of the winner of the Viewer’s Choice Award during the televised award ceremony, how do you think the hosts handled the situation?

Well take a look for yourself with this Youtube video archiving X-Play’s award show that year. (Timestamp 34:04-35:25)

They start out by saying how close the matchup between Skyward Sword and Assassin’s Creed: Revelations was, despite the fact that by accounts of those who participated in the voting process, Assassin’s Creed never got more than 40% of the votes in the final round, but that can be chalked up as theatrics for the audience.

When they reveal to the audience that Skyward Sword won the final round and in turn won the Viewer’s Choice Award, you can juts tell that Adam Sessler is not happy with the results. The way he’s moving his body. His tense face and pursed lips. The sarcastic tone in his voice as he calls Skyward Sword “Nintendo’s love letter to motion controls”.

Adam is not happy that the game he and the rest of the staff at X-Play snubbed from their award ceremony not only won the Viewer’s Choice Award but also beat two of their nominees for Game of the Year, including their choice for overall Game of the Year, in the process.

At this point, most people think it would be best for Adam to just accept the results for what they are, give Skyward Sword a proper congratulations, and move on with the next award of the night, in spite of Adam’s personal feelings towards the situation. Just be professional. That’s all Adam needed to do.

Most would think that, but Adam Sessler is not most people.

As the hosts were talking about Skyward Sword’s win, Blair Herter made a passing comment saying that the Nintendo fanbase being “enraged” over Skyward Sword not being nominated for Game of the Year helped Skyward Sword win the Viewer’s Choice Award.

Adam immediately jumped on that by adding with and I quote;

“Enraged? That’s a-th-th-that’s a nice term. It was close race, but ANGER always wins in the end.”

Wow. I mean wow. Not even the Red Sea is as salty as Adam Sessler was with that comment.

He couldn’t just take the L like an adult and move on. He felt like he had to get the final word on the matter. 

It’s like Adam wants to say the Viewer’s Choice Award doesn’t really count because the vote didn’t go the way he wanted. This is, ironically, the kind of immature fanboy behavior Adam is trying to make fun of. It makes it seem like Adam thinks he’s above the “unwashed masses” that participated in the Videogame Deathmatch voting process. 

Regardless on if you think Skyward Sword deserved to win the tournament, you must admit that this was bad look on Adam’s part.

Now I don’t want to end this post on a bittersweet note so I want you to think about what actually happened. 

Skyward Sword is so beloved by the majority of gamers that when a review show as big as X-Play tried to downplay the game’s quality as well snub the game from its best of the year award show, the gamers respond by making sure Skyward Sword won the title of the Viewer’s Choice awards.

And this is one of several time where when major reviewer publications/programs reached out to their audience, the gamers, to get their take on what game they felt was the best game of 2011, and The Legend of Zelda Skyward Sword was chosen by said gamers as the the best game of that year.

It’s funny because whenever I bring up that point, the minority of Skyward Sword detractors try to make up some excuse to delegitimize Skyward Sword winning the viewer’s choice award.

When I mention Skyward Sword winning IGN’s viewer’s choice award, or when Skyward Sword was voted the number one, best game of 2011 by the fans of ScrewAttack, they say “Oh that’s because fans of Skyrim, Batman Arkham City, Portal 2, and so on were divided amongst themselves while Nintendo fans were united in their support for Skyward Sword. If the poll wasn’t a free for all, Skyward Sword wouldn’t win.”

Well here’s another instance of Skyward Sword winning a viewer’s choice award; Skyward Sword had to go one-on-one against multiple games in order to win the viewer’s choice award. Skyward Sword got more votes than some of the most popular, well reviewed, and highest selling games of that year. More gamers preferred Skyward Sword over Uncharted 3, Arkham City, and Skyrim.

I think all of that, along with how Skyward Sword was considered the best game of 2011 by ScrewAttack and IGN users, and how people are hyped for the HD rerelease, it’s safe to say that despite what some vocal people may try to say otherwise, The Legend of Zelda Skyward Sword is a game that is far more beloved by gamers than it  is “divisive”. 

#the legend of zelda #skyward sword #ocarina of time #breath of the wild #majora's mask #wind waker #twilight princess #a link to the past #a link between worlds #fi #link #groose #ghirahim #demise #impa #x-play

[writesowhatnext]

gotta do the cooking by the book // fred weasley

Summary: reader just wants to do some baking… Fred has other, less savoury, ideas

Request: not really – I figured I should counteract my sadfred with happyfred

A/N: very much hope you enjoy my loves!!! I literally love writing domestic Fred and George post-BoH like it soothes my soul

Reader: unspecified

Warnings: suggestive themes, swearing, battle of Hogwarts, making out

You huffed, staring blankly at the mess you’d created around you. The recipe book you’d been using was covered in flour and – was that a piece of eggshell? You huffed again, flicking away the shell and rubbing your hands down your face, trying to read the instructions again. All you wanted to do was make a nice cake to take to the Burrow, to pay Molly back for all her lovely dinners over the years, it really shouldn’t have been too hard. The cake itself seemed easy, actually, but as you stared at the tins and the heaps of icing sugar you had in front of you, your surprised pride at your success was waning quickly.

“Honey, I’m home!”

You bit your lip, concentrating far too much to turn to Fred when he walked in. A frown dragged at his eyebrows in response and he sighed loudly, like a child, when he saw you slaving over the countertop in a bombsite of baking utensils and puddles of substances lost in various stages of the baking process.

“You should be a lot happier to see me, your darling husband, after he’s had such a long day of work,” he said, setting his bag on the floor and walking over to you.

He wrapped his arm around your waist, pressing a kiss to your head as he looked down at the book in front of you, quickly getting distracted by what you were wearing.

“Is this my jumper?” he asked, running his hand up your side, over the familiar knitted fabric beneath his fingers. You hummed in response, not looking up even as you pecked him on the cheek before turning back to the page. He pouted. Not that you noticed, though.

“And why are you making a cake?” he asked, stepping back and taking his blazer off, throwing on the countertop.

“For your Mum,” you muttered before tentatively lifting up the icing sugar and measuring it out just as dutifully.

“Mum? Why-“ Fred cut himself off with a long, dramatic groan. “Do we have to go to that dinner tonight?”

His whining was enough to drag a smile from you, to iron out the crease that had developed between your brows. He wrapped his arms around you, earning a tut as he knocked your elbow, icing sugar dusting the surface.

“You know we do, Freddie,” you said, breaking off a block of softened butter, watching it land into the volcano of sugar you’d created. His chin rested on your head as you began to mix them together.

“But I don’t want to,” he whined, pouting at you as you stepped back and looked at him finally. He tried to hold off the emerging smile, but seeing your face always made his day better and despite yourself, you couldn’t help but grin, too, at his sulky expression. “I just want to stay here, with you.”

Your heart warmed at his words but you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“We could tell Mum I got dragonpox?” he said, eyebrows raised. You shot him a dry look.

“And have her come here to look after you? Great plan there, love.”

You exhaled sharply from your nose, amused at the comedic way his face fell.

“Can you mix that for me?” you asked, pointing to the bowl of icing you’d just started whilst licking some sugar from your thumb.

“Me?” Fred asked, following your thumb with his eyes.

“No,” you shot him a deadpan look, pushing his back to usher him over to the sink. “Your imaginary friend. Yes, you, you muppet.”

He turned to you and stared for a second, trying desperately to ignore your puppy dog eyes as you jutted out your bottom lip. He narrowed his eyes as you leant forward, batting your eyelashes at him.

“Fine, fine, you win. Always your bloody slave, I am.”

“Perfect!” you said, a wide grin stretching your lips. “Just wash your hands first.”

He rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath. He did as he was told, though, side-stepping you so he could get to the bowl whilst you pulled the cake from the tins.

“I don’t really want to go either if I’m honest,” you said, pushing your hair from your face, leaving a large swoop of icing sugar from your hand in your wake. “If I have to listen to Harry go on about how he named his kid after the two bravest men he knew again, I’ll have an aneurysm.”

Fred chuckled under his breath, pursing his lips at your words.

“No offence, of course, because that boy is the sweetest baby in the whole world and I love Harry, but blimey. He named the other one James Sirius – that’s a cracking name, hard to follow, mind you. But, really? I can’t imagine actually being there when Neville chopped the head off that bloody snake and having the gall the call my kid Severus,” you paused for a moment, huffing slightly as you struggled with removing the tin.

Fred had given up with the icing now, too concentrated on you and your little tirade. He wasn’t listening all too closely, more like admiring the view. He smiled as he noticed the streak of icing sugar across your cheek and the dried chocolate mixture smeared on your forehead. Your hair was messier than usual and he couldn’t help but enjoy the sight, especially when you frowned, your pretty lips curling downwards as you ran a hand through the already knotted strands. He felt whole, he realised with a strange relief, as he looked at you.

“Severus blood Snape,” you tutted, shaking your head. “It’s their choice, obviously, and I’ll love that kid regardless but how he got Gin to agree to that I’ll never know.”

Fred stopped listening then, though he could still see your mouth moving, decidedly pretty expressions contorting your features.

“You’re the love of my life, you know that?” he said, interrupting you as his hand stilled on the wooden spoon in his grip. You turned to him, eyes wide, cheeks flushed and mouth open before your brows sunk. Your eyes narrowed to slits as you stared at him, immediately cautious.

“What did you do?”

He laughed at your suspicion; offence written all over his face.

“You, my love, are extremely paranoid-“

You scoffed, rolling your eyes and placing a hand on your hip.

“Excuse me, but you’re a menace to society; with you as a husband it’s a wonder I’m not more paranoid.”

Fred hummed and the spoon clattered to the side of the bowl as he moved to envelop you in his arms, holding you with your back to his chest. You allowed yourself a moments peace from your frantic baking, Fred’s presence taking the edge off, as always.

“I love it when you call me that,” he said softly, muttering into your hair. You smirked and turned around in his arms, looking up to see an affectionate smile playing on his lips.

“What? A menace to society?”

He huffed, frowning as he pinched at your waist, enjoying the squeal that escaped your lips.

“No, cheeky,” he whispered, a fond look in his eyes. “Your husband.”

“Well,” you said, running your hands up and down his arms. “That’s what you are, isn’t it?”

He tilted his head to the side before leaning down and placing a short peck on your nose, grinning at the way your face scrunched up. You both stood there for a moment, enjoying each other. Then, like a light switching off, Fred’s face became very serious.

“I mean it, though. I’m serious. You are the love of my life.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to blow off his words with some half-witty comment or just blatant ignorance, not when he was staring at you so intently with such love in his dark eyes. You remembered the look on his face from the Battle of Hogwarts, from when you’d wandered over to each other with the battle just finishing around you, dead bodies of people you knew at your feet. To say you were happy to see him then was the greatest understatement of the century. You’d never seen anyone look more in love than Fred that day, and the thought alone made you melt inside.

“You’re a sweet talker, Fred Weasley.”

His face changed again, ever so quickly, into something a lot more mischievous, a lot more familiar.

“Between that and my devilishly handsome good looks, it’s no wonder you married me, is it?”

“Oh no,” you said sweetly, turning back to your cakes. “I wonder every day.”

He barked an incredulously laugh before his hand found your hip, pulling you back into him, spatula in hand.

“Fred! I need to finish this-“

Before you could finish your sentence, let alone your cake, his lips were on yours and you were sighing into his mouth, leaning into his tall frame with the spatula resting against his chest. He pulled you closer to him by the waist, leaning down to meet you more easily as his hands roamed underneath his jumper. His cold fingers lingered over the bare skin of your waist and sides and you gasped at the contact, the sound muffled by his lips. He made a whimpering noise as your hands reached into his hair; your fingers scratching lightly at his scalp. You both smiled into the kiss and for a second, it felt like it had when you were younger, when you first got together so long ago. Gently, you pulled away, staring up at Fred through your eyelashes, biting your swollen bottom lip at the way leant towards you, keen to continue your moment.

“Are you sure you need to finish that now?” he said softly with a rather suggestive eyebrow raised. You were reluctant to leave your cake project as it was, but Fred’s hands rubbing up and down your sides made it hard to think about anything else, your breath hitching in your throat. You frowned, swallowing underneath the weight of his knowing grin. The bastard knew he had you.

“We probably have half an hour-“

You didn’t get chance to finish your thought before Fred threw you upside down and over his shoulder. You blinked at the sudden change, a loud huff leaving your lips as Fred made towards the stairs.

“Fred!” you scolded breathlessly, hitting his back with your fist.

“Don’t worry, love.” He said with a smile in his voice, completely unfazed. With one hand wrapped around your calves and the other resting on your bum, he jogged up the stairs towards your room; even from your position, you could practically sense his shit-eating grin. “I’ll get you back to your dessert as soon as I’ve had mine.”

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#fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #Harry Potter imagine #harry potter #writing #imagine

[vavandeveresfan]

“Michael Keaton, Revved Up and Ready to Tell Some Stories.”

By David Marchese, for The New York Times Magazine. Aug. 29, 2021

Michael Keaton has been a star for long enough to have gone through multiple and distinctly different cycles of fame and artistic expression. He has zigzagged through the years from the gleeful anarchic charge of his comedic work in his early hit films like “Night Shift” (1982) and “Mr. Mom” (1983) to megastardom via the gothic “Batman” (1989) and even more gothic “Batman Returns” (1992). Then, after a period in the wilderness in the 2000s, he made a welcome comeback, kicked off by his detailed and widely praised character work in “Birdman” (2014). He’s such a familiar, even nostalgic, figure at this point that it’s easy to take his uniqueness for granted. It’s hard to think of another actor capable of, say, the manically riffing poltergeist he played in “Beetlejuice” (1988) and the layered gravitas of a latter-day role like his hard-nosed Boston Globe editor Walter Robinson in “Spotlight” (2015). But no matter the part — and I think this is essential to his appeal — Keaton, who is 69, always exudes an intense (and intensely American) self-reliance, a defiant independence. That quality is on display in various forms in his recent work as a contract killer in the thriller “The Protégé,” released in August; as Kenneth Feinberg, the real-life lawyer in charge of dispensing the 9/11 victims compensation fund in “Worth,” which premieres on Netflix Sept. 3; and as a small-town doctor whose eyes gradually open to the opioid crisis in the Hulu limited series “Dopesick,” slated for release on Oct. 13. “There’s something to getting older,” says Keaton, a digressive and keyed-up talker, who paced nonstop through his Montana home as we spoke via Zoom. “Not only do the roles get a little different, but your interpretation of them might be more interesting too.”

A few years ago in an interview you said that there was a point in your career, I guess it was in the mid-2000s before you sort of disappeared for a while,

I have wide interests, or catholic interests, as they say, and when you’re like that, you reach a point where you go, “OK, I still have to make a living so I have to take certain acting jobs,” and you try to do your best. Then you start to literally get tired of hearing your own voice, and also metaphorically get tired. You kinda go, “Am I a bullshitter right now?” But you say, “Hey, man, I’m fortunate enough to have a gig.” And I pass up a lot of work. I’ve passed up so much work over the years because I was curious about other things. I wanted to live life. Maybe it’s that nothing was coming around that made me interested. But I think work’s real important. I’m looking forward to a time when my work becomes other work, frankly. Like I’m involved with this environmentally conscientious construction company.  I don’t know. Maybe I got bored with acting. That sounds so cavalier: “I was bored.” But I probably did get a little bored with myself. People forget about you, and I’m off doing other things. But I thought: I’ll be all right. Better roles will come around. Then, you know that whole thing of how you can manifest things? It’s doable. Your attitude, how you look at things and what you can create is more in your power than a lot of people think.

What’s the trick?

Here’s the deal: Everything comes down to the question of what do you want? You keep going back to what you want and you go, “Well, I have this,” but, yeah, what do you want? Then you have to drill down and have the balls to say, “If that’s what you really want, then you have to do X.” You know what the rest of it is? Good fortune. A couple of things go your way. Alejandro González Iñárritu calls my agent, and he goes, “I want to talk to him about this movie.” Because I like sports so much I use probably too many sports metaphors, but you gotta get tough and be competitive and not want to lie down. Certain things started coming around for me because I said, “I’m not lying down.” I don’t know. I’m probably overanalyzing it.

So when you asked yourself what you really wanted, what did you come up with?

Dude, dude, dude. We do not have time. We seriously do not have time for that. Trust me. That’s a whole other conversation. I don’t think print serves that question, to be really honest with you. It’s not like a thing you can touch.

OK. But then what do you actually do after you ask yourself what you really want?

You’ll come up with another answer. Then you’ll have to keep asking yourself, Yeah, but what is that? And then if you can live in that — without sounding like I’m saying something that makes me want to go outside and vomit — you kind of raise your consciousness.

I’m not sure I totally follow but — 

Can I add this?

Please.

I’m blessed-slash-cursed with a bit of a chip on my shoulder. I keep it there because it’s motivational.      

OK, so to get back on track: You had a period where you would do performances and they wouldn’t ring true? I’m just trying to get a handle.

So you hear yourself speaking, you’re in a scene, and it doesn’t necessarily not ring true, it’s just kind of a sound you’re doing that’s too familiar. I can’t explain it. I think there was a little overall boredom but not with the business — bored with me. Then the next level of that is are you having any fun or are you even really any good right now? So you’d stop, step back and reassess. Do some other things. Frankly the reason — a reason — that a person can be more effective as an actor — boy I hate acting talk.

Indulge me.

You’re the boss. I think you become a better actor if you have a world awareness and if you have experiences and you hear the way people speak. It was also a pride thing, eventually wanting to do more stuff. After a while you kind of go: I got some ammunition left. But I was living. I was doing some things, I was picking up a little bit of work. My attitude was make ’em throw you your pitch. Foul off a few. Take close ones right on the edge of the plate. You go: “Uh-uh. I’m here. I’m a [expletive] hitter.” Then you go, “I can hit that.” So you just hang in there. By the way, I’m not convinced baseball players of all the athletes are the brightest of the bunch.

I know you like to talk in sports metaphors so — 

[Laughs.] You have that tone: “I know you like to talk in sport metaphors. But could you stop?”

No, no. I was going to ask if you could use one to describe where you are in your career now. 

No. I could never describe it. I get embarrassed using the word “career.” Once you start talking like that you have a self-consciousness about it, and it takes away from: What’s the thing you really are supposed to do? What’s the job at hand? What’s your function in life?

There’s a passage in the piece you wrote for that book about fishing, “Astream”(A 2012 collection of nonfiction pieces by American writers on fly fishing.) “If you’re doing it right, the longer you live, the more you become just who you really are.” Are you becoming closer to who you really are? And who is that person?

It’s [expletive]. It’s just [expletive]. I’m so lost, Dave. [Laughs.] No, it’s funny, I was doing this little meditation today, and I was thinking about some version of that. So the answer to that question is, I don’t have any idea.

But when “Birdman” happened — and this was compounded by “Spotlight” also being so acclaimed and following that movie so closely — there was the idea that you had a comeback. Did that change your perspective about what your career had been up to then?

I don’t even like to use the word “career.” It sounds so narcissistic. “My career”; “career-wise.” It sounds pretentious just hearing myself say it now. To be totally honest, it’s not like everybody was knocking on my door. What people don’t know is, I never left; I was always picking up a little gig here and there. Throw a little money in the bank. I’m too antsy to sit around anyway. Fortunately, I’m interested in a lot of other things.

Like what?

I’m a news junkie. I kind of obsess over that, which is not good, and I do my little things under the radar with guys like Jim Messina.  (In November, Keaton was featured in a pro-Biden video aimed at voters in his native Pennsylvania. The spot was created by American Bridge 21st Century, a super PAC that the former Obama deputy chief of staff Jim Messina worked with as an adviser during the 2020 election.) I love nature and being outside. My kid and I are tight. You know, I’m just so lazy. Honest to God. I mean, Thomas McGuane,(The esteemed novelist, who is the author of, among other books, “Ninety-Two in the Shade,” and a neighbor of Keaton’s in Montana.)  he’s an old friend. He told me a while back, he said, You need to write. I thought I would write early on, and I quit because I’m lazy. So I’m doing a little more of that just for me. I’m developing this thing with Jay Roach and Owen Burke and Adam McKay.(Keaton is working with the trio, who have collectively participated in a bunch of smash Hollywood comedies, on an adaptation of a story by the New Yorker journalist Evan Osnos. Keaton declined to elaborate on precisely which story.) That takes up a fair amount of my time. When I get involved like that creatively, I get excited again. Even this interview: I’m not unnecessarily flattering you, but when I get talking about things — I forget how much I like things like this conversation. I start to get stimulated again.

I know there’s an element of randomness to the roles an actor ends up taking, but you’ve done “Dopesick” and “Worth” and “The Trial of the Chicago 7”. all relatively close to each other. Is that indicative of any increased desire to address politics more in your work?

You know, probably. There are things I did because I thought they had to be out there. I’ve always thought, without sounding self-serving here, that it’s important to be able to say, “If it all falls apart tomorrow, at least I did something that maybe meant something to someone.” “Dopesick” is personal. I lost a nephew to heroin. Fentanyl, really. It was my sister’s son. I don’t think I believe that I have a responsibility exactly, but you wouldn’t want to leave the world going: “I could have been a mensch. I could have turned somebody around.” People have come up to me about “My Life”   (Keaton played a man diagnosed with terminal cancer opposite Nicole Kidman in this 1993 tear-jerker) and certain things that I’ve done and commented on what it meant to them. So you can say: “There’s that. At least I did that.”

Was it cathartic to work on “Dopesick”?

Well, I told his mom, my sister, about it after I had already signed on. I was direct and honest with her. I said, “Look, if this wasn’t well written or if they were saying you’ve got to kind of work for free, I’m not going to lie to you and say I would have done it, but, that said, the No. 1 reason I’m doing this is for Michael1111 Keaton’s nephew, also named Michael. and you and for everyone out there, because it’s important.” Then what happens is once you get going you’re locked in. There were moments where we were reading the script, and you would say, “Jeez, this is Michael’s story.” But that’s not the job at hand. The job at hand is to be the doctor and get back to work.

The doctor in “Dopesick” or Ken Feinberg in “Worth” are both sort of authority figures, which can be said of a lot of the characters you’ve played since “Birdman.” But earlier in your career — sorry for using that word — pretty much from “Night Shift” to “The Paper” you tended to play anti-authority types. What accounts for that change?

I totally know what you’re saying. I don’t know that I’ve thought about that specifically. Now, there’s probably some kind of stupid pride that would make me say, man, the guy in “The Paper” is certainly not like the guy in “Night Shift,” and “Beetlejuice” wasn’t like anything else. “Mr. Mom” was different. “Multiplicity” is one of my favorites, too, and that’s different.

“Tuck tuck fold.”

[Laughs.] Man, I miss that stuff so much. To see how far I could push Andie McDowell, to see if I could get her to break. What’s really interesting about you saying that is, man, do I miss — it sounds egotistical — being funny.

I’ve watched some of your old stand-up  (Keaton’s first career in show business was as a stand-up comedian in the mid-to-late ’70s. That is, if you don’t count the crew work he did before that on “Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood.”) but you know what really killed me? Watching your Letterman appearances from the early ’80s. The conversation between you two is just joke after joke after joke, and the one time where you came on walking on your hands? The energy level is just — it’s very cocaine.

I don’t get to talk about this very often with people. I’m actually enjoying this. First of all — 100 percent true — absolutely no cocaine was involved. I’m not trying to save any kind of reputation. I’m just saying.

Oh, sorry, I was joking. I was just commenting on the vibe.

No, no, no. I do realize what you noticed because I remember being on a movie with someone — I’m not going to say who, they’re friends of mine now — and I found out years later they assumed I was on something, and they got worried. They thought, Jeez what if we get shut down? But even talking to you now, I feel myself getting revved up. I get like that. I’ve been like that since I was a little kid. It’s probably annoying to some people. I miss that stuff with Letterman and those guys. When I hear people talk about stand-up, no one really gets — unless you’re in that world — what that world really is; what you have to do if you want to be really good and how serious it can get. I was always afraid that the fun would go away. I was always afraid that I’d “catch the disease.”

The disease of being a morose comic?

Basically. The crazy that’s a lot of times in there and the self-involvement and, at the time, the friggin’ cocaine, which was everywhere.

I read some old magazine profile of you where you made passing mention about bombing as a young comedian onstage in Las Vegas. Is there a story there?

Yes. I pretty much — and I’m not saying this out of, well, wait a minute, maybe I am saying it out of braggadocio. I don’t know. Let me hear myself say it. Maybe I am. I’m really not bragging: What little act I had, I knew that some parts of it worked. They just did. So at the time Cher — if you’re enough of an entertainment nerd you’ll probably remember there was this phase where Cher really wanted to be a rocker, and she’s kind of not. She’s Cher.

She was playing the part, though.

Yeah, and this was in old Vegas. You look at the acts in Vegas now? They could be down in the West Village. Then, that wasn’t it. That was not it. I think her thinking was, Let’s go hipper, let’s go young, because I’m Cher and I’m going to do my rock tunes. So somebody said, “You gotta go see this guy” — me. She sees me and says: “He’s funny. Let’s take him.” So I go “Cool.” Meanwhile if you drove down the Strip and looked at the marquees, who the names were, they were comics that not even my dad would — just older guys. I’m not saying good or bad; a totally different thing. So I go, OK, I’m kind of scared, but I pretty much know this material works. It doesn’t bomb. It just doesn’t. It’s not like people were writhing on the floor with laughter ever but I go, no, this works. Then I started to get a feel for Vegas and I’m going, Oh, boy. But I thought, Well, they’re going to see Cher so I don’t have to do a lot of time. Then she started telling me how much time she wanted me to do, and I went, [expletive], I don’t have this. And backstage the curtains were like 40 feet high. It was like, Whoa, wait a minute, this is big. Then you get onstage, and they’re there to see Cher. They’re still eating, all you hear is silverware and people mumbling things like, “Hey, I didn’t order Thousand Island.” You’re up there and they go: “Who is this kid? Why is he bothering us?” I remember starting with some kind of architecture-related joke.

Those usually kill.

[Laughs.] Oh, people love architecture bits. It was death, and I had never experienced death. I remember sweat literally running down my back. By the way, the architecture thing was totally stupid in retrospect. It’s not even funny. So anyway, that was traumatic. I always felt like I disappointed Cher. She’s great though.

I have a “Batman” question: When I rewatched “Batman” (This film and its sequel — both huge commercial successes — were directed by Tim Burton, who had previously directed Keaton in “Beetlejuice.” Keaton and Burton both declined to revisit Batman for “Batman Forever” (1995). They did reunite on “Dumbo” in 2019.) and “Batman Returns” it seemed to me as if there was a progression from one film to the next in how you played Bruce Wayne. Picking that character up again 30-ish years later in “The Flash,”  (Keaton will reprise his role as Bruce Wayne and Batman in this film, currently slated for a 2022 release)  are you playing him as a continuation of that same guy or are you starting from scratch?

That’s a really good question. I’m not being cute: When I hear you speak I go, “I have a feeling he knows more about Bruce Wayne than I do.” I don’t know if I thought about it that much. Maybe I did. The first “Batman” I didn’t think was going to happen because when Tim Burton called me, he said, “I want to talk about this thing.” I go, “Cool, what do you got?” He tells me and I go, “Wow.” He said, “Go home and read this script.” We had developed a relationship. We’re pals to this day. So I went home and read it, and I went, “I don’t think he’s going to want me to do this after I say what I think.” Then we met and I go, “I think the character is this, this, this and this.” I remember Tim’s hair was really long, and he’s looking at me, and as I’m talking his hair is flapping up and down, like nodding woo woo, and I went, I guess he’s thinking like I’m thinking. So I say, “OK, let’s do it.” Then everybody was saying, “Oh, my God, the world’s going to end.”  (There was a negative fan outcry after it was first announced that Keaton would play Batman. The general gist being that the actor — best known back then for his comedic roles — lacked sufficient seriousness to play the comic-book character.)  I thought, Really? Do people think that there’s anything to be outraged about?

You know people take superhero movie stuff even more seriously than Jesus these days, right?

I do. It’s crazy. But doing it again was in a way more fun than any other time. I think I invested myself more. Honestly, I’m probably too frightened to phone anything in. I would phone something in if I could. I just can’t allow it to happen. The kind of athletes I’ve always liked are the grinders. Guys who just said: “[Expletive] you. I’m going down hard.” So I thought about the character again, and I thought, OK, if you’re going to do it, don’t be a dick. Go to work. Do the thing. I don’t know how you are about this, but I never got the whole fascination with the superhero thing. We can laugh at the people who obsess but it’s none of my business what people think. Their interests are their interests. I didn’t want to disrespect it. I thought, Hey, man, embrace it. Be a professional and do everything a professional’s supposed to — but, well, all my conversations with Andy, (Andrés Muschietti, director of “The Flash.”) a couple things he wanted me to do I go, “Nah, I’m not doing that.” By the way, I’m talking about two little things where I said, “No, that’s not the character.” Because you have to honor that guy. After all these years, if you’re going to do this again, be respectful to the character and the movie. And Andy was right about a lot of stuff that I’d thought: I don’t know if you should do that with this guy. It’s all pulpy and everything, but Bruce Wayne’s an interesting character.

You know, I hadn’t realized that you and Tim Burton were still pals, and now I’m mentally stuck on the possibility of him all gothed out going fly-fishing with you in Montana.

[Laughs.] You know, the imagery does seem weird. I will tell you, here’s the thing about Tim Burton that a lot of people don’t know: Because he has certain mannerisms and personality and what his art looks like, I think there’s a little misperception. He’s refreshingly way more normal than people — I don’t know if normal is the right word but you know what I mean.

I’m going to keep sidetracking now — that’s your influence, by the way.

That’s good. That’s real good. Did you ever read “Tarantula”?

The Bob Dylan book? Yeah.  (Dylan’s prose-poetry collection, published by Macmillan in 1971. Here’s how it starts: “aretha/ crystal jukebox queen of hymn & him diffused in drunk transfusion wound would heed sweet soundwave crippled & cry salute.”)

A guy like you probably said, “I understand all of this.” [Laughs.] I don’t even know if that’s a good book, but I remember when I read it, I was going, Wow, Dylan’s really deep. Then I went, But what is he talking about? Anyway, go ahead.

You got a good fishing story?

We were all hanging the other day — who was I talking to? Oh, I’ll tell ya! I was with my friend Skip Herman, who I fish with. Huey was there.

Huey? You don’t mean Huey Lewis?

Huey Lewis, yeah. Excellent angler. I think he had a scholarship to Cornell and —

The fishing story?

Oh, sorry. We’re sitting around telling these stories, how fly fishermen do, and I said, “Most of my fishing stories, they’re seldom about catching fish.” However, probably the best fish I ever caught was a steelhead up in British Columbia with a broken rod that I had to hold together in two pieces. When I say I chased this fish down: in and out of a drift boat five or six times. And when I say I chased this fish down: giant, hot white-water stretch of the Sustut in British Columbia, for about over an eighth of a mile, maybe closer to a quarter of a mile, and landed it with a broken rod. A buddy of mine who was a rod builder, I’ve never told him that his rod broke. He’ll take it well, he’s a good guy. You know, I probably do have some fishing stories. Maybe I’ll tell ya another time.

This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity from two conversations.

#Michael Keaton #Batman #Beelejuice #Worth #The Flash #The Protege #Birdman #Spotlight #Dopesick #V.A. Vandevere #Tim Burton

[ordinaryschmuck]

What I Thought About the Climax of "Reunion" from Amphibia

Salutations, random people on the internet who are already scrolling right past this. I am an Ordinary Schmuck. I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons.

So, Season Three of Amphibia is coming pretty soon. And I am...excited, but not as much as most people.

If you've seen my reviews, you'll know that while I do like Amphibia, I wouldn't go so far as to say it grabbed me as well as a series like The Owl House. With a show like that, it took me until Episode Five before I realized The Owl House was something special that was worth remembering. For Amphibia? It took me until the Season One finale before I had a similar reaction. But, to be fair, that's because this series is really good at making an ending. "Reunion," for example, takes a lot of the small things the first season has been building up, taking plots from episodes I considered filler and tying it all together in a pretty satisfying ending. I know people are still reeling over the epicness of "True Colors," and all for a good reason, but I want to start the new season on the right foot by discussing a moment that made me consider giving the series a chance.

But it also contains spoilers, so if you haven't seen Amphibia yet, now might be a good time to check it out. It may not have grabbed me and might not even grab you, but trust me when I say that it's worth it just to get to that final scene.

Now, let's review, shall we?

Grime Explaining Flipwart and Bogjump: One thing I will always defend about this series is its humor. More often than not, it succeeds in getting a chuckle out of me with perfect timing and solid comedic delivery. And stuff like this? Where Grime takes a break from his evilness to explain how two board games work to two teenagers? Only to then give up and stick with a simple answer? Yeah, I'm sorry, but that's funny to me. A good thing, too, given how this show relies more on humor than anything else. It may have an overarching plot and its fair share of grim moments (I give you Marcy's maybe death), but Amphibia knows when to keep things light amongst the darkness, which I always appreciate.

Anne Pleading with Sasha: Here, the scene showcases Anne's own personal struggle with Sasha. We know Sasha's a bad friend, primarily because we have eyes. But Anne still needs convincing. Because while she speaks up, she still doesn't assert herself. Anne doesn't yell at Sasha or tell her she's going too far. Instead, she just begs and pleads, hoping to seek the bit of humanity of this girl that Anne sees as a friend. Only for Grime to cut things short in demanding Hop Pop.

Anne Grabbing a Sword to Defend Hop Pop: This, on the other hand, was a defining moment for Anne. She spent so much time with the Plantars, risking life and limb for their own personal health and safety in multiple episodes before this one. So in desperation and due to being backed into a corner, she yanks out one of the guards' swords and orders people to back up, including her "best friend." This moment is when Anne is right on the edge of standing up against Sasha, ready to do all she can to help a person, er, frog that treats her right.

Sasha Talking Anne Down: But she isn't fully ready to fight back yet. Sasha sees the panic and desperation and uses that to her advantage and takes control. She speaks calmly, attracting Anne with talks of going home and pointing out the ridiculousness of standing up for Hop Pop. And my blood boils with how easily she does it. It was like a light switch, turning off her intensity just so Sasha appears to be empathetic. Even though she isn't. You can tell just how cold hearted she can be with the way she says the line "End of discussion." Does the way she say that really sound like a person who has Anne's best interests at heart. I wouldn't think so.

Sprig’s Reaction to Anne Lowering the Sword: And neither does Sprig. I mean, look at Sprig's expressions when he sees Anne lower the sword:

First, there's shock and empathy in seeing Anne crumble to Sasha's will. And unlike the fake empathy Sasha offered, you can see that it's real.

Almost as real as the look of pure disgust he gives Sasha afterward. Personally, I can't blame him. Sprig cares deeply for Anne, as the two of them have the most real friendship out of everyone else in the main cast, one built on mutual trust, respect, and willingness to have the other's best interests at heart.

Sprig Standing Up for Anne: This only proves my point. By slingshotting mud (was that mud?) into Sasha's face and praising how incredible Anne is, Sprig proved he really is the true friend that Sasha can only wish to be. And it's just the boost Anne needed to snap out of her stupor and do, in her words, "something that [she] should have done a long time ago."

Anne Standing Up to Sasha: If standing up for Hop Pop was a defining moment for Anne, defending Sprig from Sasha was a moment Anne could never go back on. It was one thing to fight for her found family against soldiers she's never met before. It's something else to do that against Sasha, Anne's best friend, who she pleaded with earlier and was so close to falling into submission for. But not anymore. At this moment, Anne decided to think for herself and do what needed to be done. Rather than let a bully tell her what to do instead.

Grime’s Words of Warning for Sasha: Grime’s little warning is similar to how a commander gives tips to a fellow commander in leading the troops. Because that's what Sasha really seems like. Not a friend, but someone who takes charge and orders what Anne and Marcy should do rather than listen to the opinions of the group. You see it more in "Battle of the Bands," and that's why I think she follows his advice to "stamp this out." Especially with how he finishes his warning: "Fail, and nothing will ever be the same."

There are two things to take away from that.

The fact that Grime was right. Sasha failed, and nothing was the same because of it. Anne now stood up to her and won't take her orders anymore. The thing is, that would have happened if Anne failed or not. Sasha winning may have stamped Anne's spirit a bit, but it still shows a dark side to her that wouldn't have been forgotten for long.

The fact that Sasha vocally admits that she won't let things change. It proves how twisted her mindset on friendship is that Sasha would willingly partake in a sword fight with her "best friend" because she refuses to have Anne standing up for herself. She likes being in charge and refuses to lose her power no matter what needs to be done to keep it.

If Anne defending Sprig is a moment where she crosses the line for the better, Sasha listening to Grime is a moment where she crosses the line for the worst.

“Anne, you don’t have to do this”: I love how Hop Pop tries to talk Anne out of the challenge. It's his life that's on the line, but he cares just as deeply for Anne as she does for him, that letting her duel Sasha, her supposed "best friend," is a choice he doesn't want her to make.

“Yes, I do.”: But Anne isn't about that. She now knows the type of person Sasha is, and letting her get away with more control is something no one should allow. And Anne won't. Not anymore.

The Fight: The fight isn't all that special compared to other action animation, and even to a certain fight scene we see in "True Colors." But as is, it is still pretty tense. I mean, for f**k's sake, it's two thirteen-year-olds fighting each other with swords! It's a miracle that only Sasha got a small scar at the end of it. Plus, while not the show's highest standard yet, there is a lot of effort and attention put into this battle. Anne is a lot more inexperienced and frantic with her attacks, where Sasha shows she was trained well in her time with the toads and is rotten given that she cheated by blinding Anne to force a victory. In a way, it illustrates the desperation the two of them have for winning, making Sasha's actions, in particular, easier to root for Anne.

Anne Wins: So when Anne is victorious, it's all the more satisfying. Primarily thanks to the look on Sasha's face. Look at it:

That is the definition of shock and anger, mostly shock. Sure, Sasha might be ticked that she lost, but it's Anne's words that I think really hit a specific soft spot: "You're not going to push me around anymore." That's probably the first time that Anne called Sasha out on her awful behavior. Saying that she's standing up to her huts, but pointing out how Sasha basically controlled Anne and how that's something she won't allow anymore, could be an eye-opening moment that Sasha needed.

Grime Goes Against the Deal: Ok, full disclosure, while this post is meant to shine a light on how great a scene is, there is one complaint I've got to get out of the way. You see, Grime going against his deal to let Hop Pop go free if Anne wins was way too predictable. Because why the f**k would he?!

I mean, does this seriously look like the face of a man you can trust? This scene may excel at everything else, but this one predictable moment is just a little off to forgive.

The Tower Blowing Up: This predictable moment, however, is done flawlessly. Because there's a difference between a twist and a payoff. Where a twist is meant to shock the audience, a payoff has to, well, pay off a setup brought up earlier in the story. And Wally's boom-shrooms going off at just the right time, transitioning to the most iconic moment of the series? Yeah, that's a payoff done right.

(Also, Wally cursing his one eye is hilarious)

“Lean On Me”: By the way, NOT joking when I say what follows is the most iconic moment of the series. All of which is aided by the inclusion of "Lean On Me" by Bill Withers. I'm not a music theory major and have no idea if the song itself is actually mildly appropriate to the scene, much like how "All Star" and "I Need a Hero" work perfectly for Shrek and Shrek 2, respectively. With that said, "Lean On Me" really does add an extra Umph! power to what follows. And as Matt Braley, series creator, describes, it is the coolest thing, but it will never happen again.

(Apparently, the song was too expensive).

Anne Goes to Save Sasha: Believe it or not, I actually do love this decision. Sasha may be a bad friend...Actually, no. Sasha is definitely a bad friend, but that doesn't mean Anne wants her to die. Not after all the good times that they had with each other. Anne might refuse to let Sasha push her around, but she's not ready to cut Sasha out of her life. Not yet.

Anne Holds Onto Sasha, the Plantars Hold Onto Anne: ...I mean...just f**king that! Through this moment, we get a perfect idea of how Anne's relationships work.

To put it simply, the Plantars raise Anne up and keep her safe, where Sasha just weighs her down and risks her safety. And the saddest part is that Sasha knows this.

“Anne. Maybe you’re better off without me…”: Some say that this could be Sasha trying to get in one last manipulation, using her own sacrifice to stick to Anne for choosing talking frogs over her. While I could see that perspective as a possibility, I personally take this moment as Sasha finally realizing the damage she causes for Anne and admits her faults. Sure, Sasha might have backpedaled in later episodes. What with refusing to change and even directing her anger towards Anne instead of towards herself. But that's because she had time to process these events and unfairly aim her negative feelings at Anne for wanting something better. So it doesn't seem implausible to me that Sasha admitting that Anne's better off without her is something she believed deep down and, for just a moment, allowed herself to accept this heavy truth. I won't deny the possibility that she's still trying to manipulate Anne, but to me, with the tone and expression Sasha has with her admission, you can't fake that. And you can't fake what she does next.

Sasha Lets Go: This...shocked me right down to my core.

I knew Grime would go back on his word, and I assumed the boom-shrooms would pay off somehow. But Sasha, willingly and unhesitantly, letting go of Anne's grip and falling to an expected demise? I...I couldn't have ever predicted that. Not with what we've seen from her before. When I hear how people see this as one last manipulation tactic, I just can't see it. Yes, there are monsters on this planet who would go this far, but I don't think Sasha is one of them. Later episodes like "Battle of the Bands" (despite a rough start) show signs of a person who could be better, and the Season Three trailer hints that she might actually learn from her mistakes. So her letting go, with no way of knowing her survival, could be the first sign that Sasha would one day make that first step. She might not be able to become Anne’s friend again, thanks to burning that bridge in "True Colors," but she'll at least try to become a better person. She just needs to do one good thing in her life first.

Plus, whenever I see this image:

I’m reminded why I could never say that I didn’t like this show.

Grime Saving Sasha: A lesser viewer would say this cheapens Sasha's sacrifice, but not to me. She had no way of knowing Grime would save her, so to her, so this is still a bid decision to go through with, even if she couldn't have gone all the way. In no way does it take away from the sacrifice, just as much as it doesn't strike a chord deep in Anne's heart.

Anne Breaks Down: Because what else would she do?

It's true, Sasha isn't a good friend, and Anne would likely be better off without her. But that's not what Anne's thinking at this moment.

She's thinking about the good fun she had with her best friend.

She was thinking about the person she could lean on.

And she was thinking about how she almost lost this person forever.

So when it all comes crashing down on Anne at once, there's nothing left to do but cry. It is such a real moment that proves one thing: There was effort put into this finale.

IN CONCLUSION

Would I say Amphibia draws me in as much as The Owl House does? No. But it still has my respect. A finale like this proves how hard the writers try to give a good experience. Even if a Schmuck like me thinks that all the pieces don't come together, they still do all they can to make a beloved series.

Season Three is on the way, and while I'm not as hyped as others, I still can't wait to see how it ends. Because if "Reunion" taught me anything, this series really nails an ending.

(And if you want me to do a scene breakdown of the finale in "True Colors," I'll tell you now: I won't...alright, maybe I'll do something for the mid-season premiere. But no promises!)

#amphibia #amphibia reviews #anne boonchuy #sasha waybright #captain grime #hop pop plantar #sprig plantar #reunion amphibia #what i thought about #scene breakdowns

[crab-withaknife]

Amphibia and Fatshaming/Fatphobia

Starting off with a disclaimer, I think Amphibia is AMAZING and absolutely worth the watch, please support it as the 3rd season comes out. And it is not a bad thing to watch and enjoy this show in spite of these issues I wanted to address. Also, I am a fat person. Just so you know.

But basically, after rewatching the 1st and 2nd season for the third time through and having watched my favorite eps A BUNCH of times on top of that, I recognized some spots where there are jokes that arent respectful and play off the age old unsavory "fat character has a one liner about needing to lose weight" humor, as well as the poor treatment of a character that has gained weight due to emotional and mental distress.

To start out, I want to talk about Mayor Toadstool real quick. I would say that from my watching experience, Mayor Toadstool doesn't have much physical humor making his fatness into a punchline, thankfully, and is design is so similar to the other toads in terms of body shape that it could be written off as him just being shaped like a usual toad. However, Mayor Toadstool is one of the first season's antagonists(ish) and he is definitely portrayed as being greedy, and this can absolutely play into a fatphobic trope of "big fat rich guy, this is a negative trait" as fat stereotypes are often associated with greed and gluttony of some kind.

The fact that all of the toads are fat or in general larger and how they're treated in the show could be seen as an issue as well. Toads are naturally a bit bulkier than frogs in real life, and the toads are portrayed as more muscular as some of the kingdom's soldiers and enforcers, so there's definitely a design and narrative aspect to the choice to make the toads larger. However, the potential for harm in "the larger characters are treated as distasteful and they're called smelly multiple times in the show" is still there.

But basically, Mayor Toadstool's line in "Toad Tax" about needing to cut back on cricket nuggets and panting after chasing after Sprig (and this applies to Hop Pop's line about needing to cut back on beetle burgers in "Sprig Gets Schooled"), as well as Anne's line in "New Wartwood" about Mayor Toadstool being a cross between the monopoly man and a piece of fried chicken are both unsavory in my opinion. Mayor Toadstool gasping for breath and Hop Pop getting stuck in a gate is a moment of "its funny because theyre in a situation due to their fatness so they joke about how they shouldn't have let themselves get to this state." With the case of Anne's description of Toadstool, it's a moment of "Anne is saying a line you are meant to laugh at because she's comparing this fat character to a commonly-considered-unhealthy food item." Both of these scenarios suck. This kind of falling back onto humor involving fat characters loving food and it being seen as a gross obsession or a funny character quirk, or the characters or those around them joking about how they need to stop eating so much and the butt of the joke being their fatness (while blaming the character for basically "allowing" themself to become fat), is really harmful.

But the biggest issue for me is Grime in the episode "Toadcatcher". Like, Grime is my favorite, I think his design is wonderful, he's such a fun and charming character, and I love all the episodes he gets to star in. His treatment in "Toadcatcher" sucked actually.

I hate to bring up Marvel, but Thor in Avengers Endgame, with a lot of gross potbelly shots and being insulted for his condition and experiencing a total lack of compassion for his situation, is the closest example I can think of to compare this to with "A character loses their purpose, their people, and their home, and they gain weight, lose their edge, eat less healthy, and begin drinking because of this. It is played as a joke." Grime really suffers in this episode at the hands of Sasha, Yunan, and the episode’s writing as a whole. His reaction to the loss of Toad Tower is more extreme than Sasha's and his feelings of hopelessness and loss cause him to stress eat, to gain weight, to feel unmotivated and become less active, and to drink (bog grog seems like its basically toad beer). Braddock addresses this as "a rut" and is comforting to Grime when she explains that they all wanted to try and help him get off his feet with some action, but this isn’t what he needs; Grime is not receiving emotional support from the people around him, just attempts at reviving the old motivation he had before losing his purpose and his soldiers.

Sasha, Yunan, and the episode's writing are overall really unkind towards Grime's character regarding his weight gain and inactivity. Sasha makes fun of him and berates him, Yunan's shock at his condition is played for a joke because of how much he has "deteriorated", and Grime is written as a belching, sloppy, lazy, unmotivated (in a negative way) mess who lost sight of who he really is ("what happened to the Grime I used to know" from Sasha). All of this is either comedically written to mock how he has "let himself go" (blaming him for his current condition as well as implying that him being fat in general is a bad thing) or, in serious moments, the characters' reactions aren't ever proven to be coming from an unkind and incorrect mindset during the episode, so the audience is meant to take Sasha and Yunan's reactions as the guideline for their own reaction to Grime's physical and emotional state.

The episode uses physical comedy to show Grime panting, falling down, and running into things as he and Sasha run from Yunan, and his current condition is never shown any compassion outside of Braddock’s one line, though Sasha’s plan that they carried out was not coming from an emotionally understanding and supportive mindset that one in Grime’s emotionally compromised position would need. His fatness is treated as an obstacle to their escape and something to make fun of, and Sasha is never proven wrong for her anger and frustration with Grime for not training and for being unmotivated. Sasha's reaction to the events of Toad Tower is discussed and addressed between the two of them, but Grime never gets a sympathetic gaze on his side of things and instead his condition is mocked until he regains his motivation and trains to regain his strength.

TLDR, Grime's fatness and his physical mental and emotional state are all treated so poorly in "Toadcatcher" in terms of how the other characters react to him and how the show portrays him. Outside of this episode, Toadstool has some potential for uncomfortable underlying negative implications in his design with the whole fat rich person issue, and his and Hop Pop's lines about food are unsavory and fall into a gross stereotype of fatness coming from overeating and being the fat person's responsibility to fix by eating less. Amphibia has some incredible writing and characters, but the use of fatshaming and fatphobic and unkind humor is something that's important to recognize and be critical of.

#anyway i dont know how to tag this #amphibia #fatphobia #yeah

[mofieroll]

Thunderstorms (Josuke Higashikata x Reader)

A Josuke Higashikata x Reader one shot where you were once part of the Crusaders, coming to Morioh with Mr. Joestar, and your pomp baby likes you.

Word Count: 5.2k

A chilly breeze under the warm sun. You were standing on the port of a moving boat, facing the wind that blew your [H/C] hair as you leaned on the sill with a calm expression, eyes closed and lips quirked into a wide smile. You loved moments where you just partook the natural quiet sounds around you, the splashes of water and whispering currents being music to your ears. The day has been serene so far, but you didn't really come here for vacation.

"Shizuka! Come quick! Come quick!"

The voice of a man called for you, disturbing your moment with the calming ocean. You stood from leaning and yawned, popping some stiff muscles before you ran off in panic upon realizing that you were supposed to take care of the person that called for you. Yeap, you forgot of your job for over a second.

You entered the lounging room of the boat and darted your eyes on the back of a crouching man who seemed to be inspecting something on the ground beside the couch. You couldn't see what it was but you were relieved, placing your hands on top of your heart as you sighed.

The man shifted his head and glanced at you with wrinkled eyes and parted lips, "I tried slipping on it, Shizuka, but I couldn't!"

You peeked over him after you reached his side and saw something yellow, "Is that what I think it is?" You replied, giggling as you realized his comedic attempt on trying to solve cartoon logic.

"This banana peel couldn't make me slip.." The old man repeated as he tried to stand up. You held his arm and helped him settle on the couch. He grabbed his wooden cane and placed it in between his legs before setting his eyes on the oceanic scenario outside the windows, "[Y/N]..! I'm sorry.. the name Shizuka has been on my mind lately.. It's-it's a pretty name, don't you think?"

You smiled at his words, grabbing the banana peel from the ground before sitting beside him, "I think it is, Mr. Joestar!"

Familial and friend, you were someone that Mr. Joestar would describe with those two words. Being a member of the Crusaders, and being the youngest one at that, had a big contribution on your platonic relationship with the old man. He was always looking out for you while your brave self assured him that you're afraid of one thing, but you're not afraid to kick the lingering enemy Stand users' peaches. He believed you like how a father would believe her daughter's imaginary stories, making sure you won't feel like you were invalidated. Although, his worry that the trip would scar you, both physically and mentally, increased to the max when the group arrived at Egypt, which led to you being transported back to your lonely home by the Speedwagon Foundation.

You couldn't understand the reason of his worry along with the other Crusaders, so you had a childish decision to to cut ties with them, only to reach out a few years later. At that time, you talked to Mr. Joestar himself, not even hiding the fact that you broke down on the phone when he hesitantly told you that only three of your group survived. You were joyed that he still considered you as a part of the Crusaders, but you were disappointed that you were immature, making you miss all the trivial things that happened. The old man comforted you like those nights when you were missing your parents, fondly telling you, "That's a no-go! The boys wouldn't want you shaming yourself now, and neither would I. Live your life like you're supposed to, little [Y/N]. Everyone would be so proud of the woman you'd become!"

Now that you're on the legal age of 18, you're trying to fulfill your number one goal in mind, and that is to be a doctor under the Speedwagon Foundation. Sure, you're a bit forgetful sometimes, but you have a free pass for being under special training which was only possible because of your Stand.

..and your connection with the Joestars.

You and Mr. Joestar were sitting in silence, lost in reminiscing thoughts, until the sound of a water vehicle grew to be disturbing the peace even if it sounded far.

"What..?" You glared at the surroundings, frantically looking from the door where you came from to the side of the windows, figuring out where the vehicle is most likely to be, "Mr. Joestar, I have to check something outside. It'll be quick, a'right?" You stood up, rushing outside after you received no reply from the unbothered old man who still had his attention on the scenery.

You ran through and up the hallway until you reached the edge of the deck. You held on to the red fence as you leaned with squinting eyes, trying to see who was on the.. motorboat approaching the boat you're on. The attempt took minutes, making you sit on the floor in boredom before you jumped to your feet in excitement as you finally saw the passengers of the smaller vehicle. One was a boy in a blue uniform you absolutely do not know and the other..

The other was your childhood emo crush who now wore a white hat and coat, "JOTARO! Jotaroooo!" You screamed, waving both your hands with a cheeky grin. This is your first time meeting him after a decade! You forgot, but you were just as excited when you were informed about meeting Jotaro Kujo during this boat trip with Mr. Joestar.

"I heard you're a Marine Biologist now, huh! Remember when you knocked that one shark out to save me?!" You ironically screamed before laughing, following the motorboat to the back as the boy in uniform whispered to Jotaro while pointing at you. The adult man didn't mind the two children around him and focused on driving the motorboat, tugging the brim of his hat down as he gave himself a small smile.

Two of the Speedwagon Foundation crew was already waiting for the motorboat when you reached the back, "Sirs! You knew they were coming?" You asked as you reached their side, eyes still on the said vehicle.

"[L/N]? We actually informed you about this.." One of the two answered, making you rub your neck as you looked up, trying to remember it happening. You tried.. and got extremely confused in just a minute that you didn't even notice that the passengers of the motorboat had boarded yours. You were snapped with your sudden realization that you've told Mr. Joestar you'll only be quick with checking, making you run back to the room he's in.

Okuyasu Nijimura, who actually thought you ran off because he stood in front of you, looked back at Jotaro with a puzzled face. The adult man shove his hands inside his pockets and gave permission to follow you with a jerk of his head, to which the student complied to, but not without a scrunched face and a dramatic hop on the small wall that separated the stern of the boat from the hull where the lounge was.

Mentoring three different teenage boys has been a pain in the back. Jotaro doesn't know if he should be happy that you're back with them or.. he should just devise an escape plan from all of this. Either way, with you here, he's certain that he doesn't have to look out for his Jiji that much.

The boat arrived at the harbor safely. Knowing that an enemy posed as a crew and wanted to get rid of Mr. Joestar was a bit surprising, you even thought Okuyasu was Mr. Joestar's son at first! But now that you're seeing his actual son who had an eye-catching pompadoured hair, you weren't surprised on how charming he was.

You whistled and nudged Jotaro who was on your side. Everyone had their eyes on the father and son walking away hand in hand, "Woah, that's Josuke Higashikata? Sheesh, Jotaro. What's with y'all Joestars being so hot and everything?"

Jotaro glared at you, "Gimme a break. You're older than him."

You glared back and faced him, "I'm literally 18 and he's 16! Don't say that like I'm some sort of creep!" You jokingly punched him on the shoulder and voiced an ora, to which he responded with tipping his hat down and turning his back on you, "Hmp— Oh, may you please tell Josuke that I could tend to his wounds? I don't wanna ruin their moment right now, so maybe later?"

Jotaro turned his head and nodded, "Coolness! Thanks, my dear ocean man!"

—

Several weeks have passed since yours and Mr. Joestar's arrival at Morioh, and you've grown closer to the group as to be expected. Okuyasu always goes out of his way to meet you at the hotel you're staying at because of how much he enjoys your pampering when he blurts to you about how his pomp-haired friend gets the ladies in school, he had even told you that Koichi had a scary girl obsessing over him, not forgetting to mention that she was cute anyway. You seldomly meet the said boy, Koichi, as he was not the type to go around town if not needed, and only accompanied him once when he walked his large fluffy dog. Josuke on the other hand, always comes with Okuyasu to the hotel but he doesn't speak to you and only observes your interactions with his friend and his father while you also played with the invisible baby they found, whose name is now Shizuka. You didn't know there was a relevant reason as to why he wouldn't talk to you even if you tried to start a conversation, so you shrugged it off and just shot him genuine smiles whenever your gazes met. You were technically the older sister in the gang and it would make sense that Jotaro was the older brother, but he was more of an uncle figure.

Josuke planned to continue his tsundere facade until he was sure of asking you out -on a date- for a hangout with just the two of you, but what he didn't expect was for a certain someone, who he just can't seem to get along with, to poof up and force him to ruin his own plans.

"Listen, listen! I met a Stand User earlier today. I was just doing my own thing when he took photos of me without my permission. He even directed me of what to do and straight up got mad when I hesitated! Turns out, he's a mangaka who found me as a good reference and I was like, good and not perfect? He glared at me for a second then he just summoned his Stand! Yo! It was a cute, white and gold dude! Of course he didn't get the chance to use the dude on me, I have my totally cute Stand too! Next thing I know, he invited me for coffee! Rad, huh?"

You didn't even need to mention his name for them to know who you were talking about. The two boys who listened, Josuke and Okuyasu, looked at each other in shock before talking to themselves like you weren't there. Calling him the 'spider-licking guy', badmouthing him and expressing every inch of their dislike for the man. Inviting you for coffee was a bad call, it just meant that you two became friends and scheduled a date. Josuke tried his best to make you back out of it, eventually talking to you all the time and taking care of you, his father and the baby, like the older brother —your partner— he wanted to be since the time he realized he likes you. He couldn't accept that the mangaka had the upper hand, so he tried to do everything he can to change that.

But of course, the 'pure love kind of guy' failed.

The day of your date with the great mangaka arrived. You were in a good mood as you prepared, the voice of Kai Harada playing on the background radio noise. The man had said that today is a sunny day, to your delight, but there is a chance of a hard gloomy storm at afternoon, to your dismay. If there's one thing about nature that you dislike the most, it's thunderstorms. Although those weren't mentioned, the anxiety of being out in the open while it occurred crept over you. You observed yourself at the vanity mirror: your hair fixed into a [H/S] that you do only for special occasions and a [F/C] [O/F] that fitted your style and body as you kept your face in a natural but fresh look, eyeing details of yourself to shrug off the previous thought.

It's now 1PM and you are finally face to face with the mangaka, seated outside the famous Cafe Rengatei in Morioh. You arrived earlier than the meeting time, making you certain that your efforts to fix yourself went to a shame.

"It seems you've made an effort for your meeting with me today. You look quite presentable," Rohan started, leaning on the chair as he crossed his arms and had his chin up.

You quirked a brow, copying his action, "And what does that imply, Mr. Good Reference?"

"It implies that you're a perfect reference right now so I'll be straight to the point of this meeting," He frankly stated. Puzzled at the word 'meeting', your brows creased, "I want you to let me use Heaven's Door on you, and you will be paid. Since I didn't get a good— let you get away before, I'm asking for the permission you're requiring me of. I heard from my friend, Koichi, that you might have an interesting story. I could have just used Heaven's Door on him, but his information of you is limited. So, is that settled?"

And here you thought this was a date.

You bit your cheek from the inside and held the clothing on your lap, "Yeah, yeah. When do we start? Oh, and you don't have to pay because you sounded real genuine and kind. Thank you very much!" You replied, a bit of sarcasm coming with it.

Rohan raised an eyebrow and battled with your blank stares before speaking, "Tch. I have the money to pay, [L/N]. Meet me at my house tomorrow morning. Don't make me wait." He grabbed his sketchbook from below the table and stood up, giving you one final, sassy look before he left.

You watched him walk away, sighing deeply as his form vanished. He got you hard with the coffee invitation and he didn't even stayed a little longer to order and enjoy an afternoon snack with you. Oh, right.

You were just acquaintances. Nothing more and maybe less. It's not that you liked him in a certain way, you were only bummed that you requested a day off for this. Taking care of the people you care about and studying for your medical course are much better than misinterpreting a business deal for a casual date. You sighed once again, lightly hitting your head on the table, "This is the work of the worst enemy Stand."

The disappointment took over your senses on your surroundings, so you became more oblivious to the Josuke that was watching you far behind.

And yes, he's been there all the time.

Shocking and unbelievable to the ears of the mutual friends of Rohan and Josuke, but the mangaka was the one to set you and the student up. It's true that Rohan had heard of you from Koichi, but that's not all. He had also heard that Josuke had been acting distant to you when all he talks about at school is.. well, you. How did he even know about that? It's absolutely not the work of Heaven's Door, Koichi just had to slip up.

You and Josuke both stayed at your respective places, unsure of what to do next now that Rohan had done his part. A few minutes passed, and you both sighed at the same time. You stood up, deciding that you'd go back at the hotel and play with the adorable Shizuka, while the nervous Josuke continued watching you, figuring out the right time to show up.

You were supposed to walk back, but then drops of water started falling from the sky. You opened your palm and looked up the sky, only to see gray colors eat up the blues. You closed your eyes and sighed once more, whispering to yourself, "This day is a work of an enemy Stand."

Not for Josuke who brought an umbrella that he'd share with you, though.

The drops of rain became a heavy storm within minutes, making you run to the nearest waiting shed. There were only hints of you being soaked, but it didn't help your body that had low resistance towards the cold. In this moment where you hugged yourself to keep your body heat, you remembered the Crusaders. The group of big men who all had a soft spot for you, and the small dog who accompanied you at your mischievous times. They were the group that always made sure to keep you warm, the group that always assured you that thunderstorms—

"AAAAH!"

You squealed upon hearing the deafening noise from above, the sound of pouring rain quickly enveloping after. You whimpered and tucked yourself in the corner of the shed, hands covering your ears and tightly gripping your now messed hair as you trembled greatly. Slowly and weakly, you dropped yourself, your knees meeting the coldness of the ground. This was supposed to be a nice day. A nice, enjoyable day that involved no stress and no professional work. Mr. Joestar also wanted you to enjoy but this, fighting back the urge to sob while you silently hollered in the storming public, isn't exactly your idea of spending your leisure time.

"[Y-Y/N]?"

Josuke stood just outside the waiting shed, a black umbrella, protecting him from the rain, in hand. He ran when he heard your scream, resulting to his shoes and pants to be thoroughly soaked. He looked at you with worry and guilt, although clueless as to what exactly caused your outspoken self to curl into a whimpering puppy. Rohan.. It must've been him. He shouldn't have just stood there watching, "[Y/N]..? Did Rohan do—"

A loud thunderstorm sounded once more, making you scream and push yourself to the corner. Josuke gasped, it's.. the thunderstorms that's causing this.

Josuke entered the shed and closed the umbrella, hanging it on the roof. You weren't paying him any of your attention, your conscious mind devoured by unsettling thoughts. Your phobia of thunderstorms was something you caught from your childhood. Something you caught from the freezing and lonely nights without your parents, people who you most expected to be there for you when you're being secluded by fright.

The boy who was now crouching in front of you noticed your lack of attention as he's been calling your name. He bit his lower lip, feeling more and more soft as each second passed. He should have known.. he usually did ask Mr. Joestar about you after all.

Josuke gave up on calling you and proceeded to his second move, which was to cover you with his gakuran. He stood up, unclasped the remaining buttons and gently enrobed you with the garment, slight joy sparking in him when you quickly accepted and wrapped yourself with it. He expected that you were still clueless of a person here with you, but you really are filled with surprises.

"T-thank you.. Angel.." You muttered, a serene feeling slowly emerging when you thought a kind citizen had randomly decided to be concerned over a breaking down woman. You exhaled deeply, eyes opening as your whole form has been blanketed by the coat.

"Angel? You think that suits me?"

You felt your heart skip a beat upon hearing the familiar cheerful voice. It wasn't some random citizen who helped you, of course it had to be someone you know.

You draped the coat over your shoulder and wrapped your body with it, head turning to the side where your sight met the ever-majestic boy's grin, hastily noticing his biceps as he only had a yellow sando as a top. Your eyes widened in surprise, bringing back the coat over your head to hide the creeping blush on your face. The turn of events had you sweeping away the thoughts of your phobia, at least.

"A-ah..? Of course it suits you! You're my.. our JoJo after all!" You faced him and answered after sighing inside the coat, trying to compose yourself, "Your g-gakuran is so warm, Josuke. I might just steal it now!"

Josuke let out a chuckle, comfortably glad that you feel better now. He had one more move up his sleep and he'd ecstatic if he could do it, but maybe some other time.. or later..? Woah there, he shouldn't be thinking about that right now. But for real, he's curious on.. how having you in his arms would feel. Your body insufferably close to his.. your loving arms wrapping around him as he shared his body heat so that you'd be shivering no more.. Sh*t, this is still a crush, right?

"U-uhm, Higashikata to e-earth..?"

"Ah? What? Oh! Yeah, sorry! W-were you saying something?"

Josuke got too far with his thoughts that he stayed still, staring at you with half-lidded eyes and a smirk, a pink shade on his cheeks which were becoming evident even with the storm blocking out the light from the sun. You didn't consider that he looked at you like a lovestruck boy and snapped him from his trance, concerned that he might be feeling cold now.

"I was asking if you.. uhm.. now that I think of it, I m-might sound like a creep," You said, still trembling. You closed your eyes and sighed, meeting his encouraging expression as you opened them again. A pursed smile formed on your lips, "You could have your coat back although I.. I was hoping if we could share it but—"

"Of course we can! I thought you'd never ask, [Y/N]!" Josuke jumped to his feet, a confident grin on his face. You looked up at him, confused, "Brr! I'm starting to feel cold too! Well?" He happily lied, crossing his arms and making an up and down motion over his biceps to add to his bluff. Josuke's not going to let this chance pass! You were the one to offer the.. intimate gesture, he'd be cursing himself forever if he messes this up.

You nodded with your mouth agape and tried to stand up on your feet. Your legs were numb for having to carry your weight on the ground, so it'd make sense if you stumbled for a bit. Fortunately, a strong and quick-thinking boy was there to catch you before it even happens, his hands —which flicked the coat— supporting your waist as you held on his wrists. Oh boy, why is it that you think he'd be a perfect gym partner?

"Perfect gym partner, huh? I wouldn't mind that too, Ms. [Y/N]!" Your eyes widened upon his words, "Yep, you just said it out loud!" Josuke laughed, giving you the urge to turn around in embarrassment but you couldn't, his stubborn hands locking you in place. An awkward silence engulfed as you looked into each other's eyes, the sound of pouring rain joining in again.

You gulped as Josuke sighed and cleared his throat, "I know this isn't a good moment to say what I'm about to say, but I don't think I could do it anywhere else without being awkward so I'm going to say it," Josuke sighed once more and you blink as a response. He sounded complacent yet also shakened while your confusion is getting ahead of you, "I'm really, REALLY going to say it now! I'm actually going to say it, will you let me say it? Uh.."

"..F*ck this is harder than I thought."

You creased your brows, adamantly switching to your sister form, "Language, JoJo!" You retreated your hands and tapped his cheeks, and.. you know you shouldn't have done that.

From another person's view, yours and Josuke's position just got more romantic than ever. Your small hands cupping his adoring face as his were firmly placed on your waist.. His almost bare top fighting the cold breeze brought by the storm just so you could be warm under the cover of his gakuran that was appealingly big on you.. This is much preferable than what Josuke daydreamed. You even called him JoJo, which he's never heard you call his nephew or his father with. Holy.. you're oblivious to the fact that you're setting the mood for him, aren't you?

You were about to pull your hands away when he swiftly locked your wrists, your waist now free from him. You gasped and felt your heart skip a beat. It was just like when you first heard his voice earlier. Being with him like this feels good but.. it doesn't feel right.

"I'm being pushy here, aren't I?" Josuke chuckled shakily, "I feel like bursting at this moment, so.. Ms. [Y/N], would ya listen? I know it'd be uncomfortable and freaky, but I seriously need to say it."

You barely nodded, his hands bringing down yours and holding it in his. He was looking down at the pairs, smiling at how yours fitted in his, "It's only been weeks since we've met— heck, since I've met you and Mr. Joestar, and this isn't really the right time for me to be having this.. puppy crush when enemy Stand Users are on the lose, but I don't usually crush over someone this hard." He grunted, his hands delicately squeezing yours, "I.. I like you, [Y/N]. Like, like-like like you. There.. I finally said it."

The moment would have been cute because of his mulish confession, but you just had to ruin it for the poor boy.

"Josuke we're.. we're family." Josuke flinched before looking at you, his arched brows hitting each other. The tables have turned, and he's the one that's waiting now, "Mr. Joestar, Jotaro.. they're like father and older brother to me while.." You sighed, successfully pulling your hands away from his weakened grip, "Josuke, I don't want to trade my close relationship with your father's family.. for a possibly temporary feelings for me."

Your words hit like Cupid shot their arrow backwards, but Josuke didn't let himself be completely fazed. He was taken aback for a second, but that doesn't mean he didn't expected this. He knew how much the Joestar Family meant to you. You're even proud that you owe your life to them, to such good people that were the epitome of justice and heroic greatness. He took note of that fact when he was getting to know you through his father, who seemed to enjoy telling stories about you. Somehow, he could say he was prepared for this.

"But, doesn't that mean if I proved my feelings aren't temporary and I'm proudly certain of it, I would have a chance with you?" Josuke grinned, tilting his head as he shove his hands in his pockets, "Also, Mr. Joestar approves of you being his daughter-in-law. Man, I'm just glad you didn't accept his offer to adopt you years ago. That would have sucked!"

Your lips opened and closed like a fish underwater, making Josuke smirk inwardly. You were almost speechless, and that's a good thing for him, "How did you.. Why do you even.." You stiffened, fiddling with his coat as you turned on to your side, facing the raining scenery, "Josuke, I don't know why you're doing this, b-but this ain't funny, y'know? Don't you like, see me as your older sister or—"

"At first," You glanced at Josuke who was now facing outside too, "When you introduced yourself as Mr. Joestar's caretaker, yeah," He stole a glance back and pouted, "But when we got to know you and literally took care of me like you're my caring girlfriend? Hell no. I could even bet Okuyasu also had a crush on you, but he told me you were like a mom, a cute mom at that." He shook his head, chuckling at what he said, "Misunderstanding your actions was a sh*tty move for me but I don't regret it one bit, Ms. [Y/N]."

There, Josuke did not just confess his romantic feelings to you, but also admitted how his decision to like you seemed inappropriate. It was valid nonetheless, as you weren't related to him by blood, but you take pride in being the Joestars' comrade —even if you seemed thirsty for them some times— and he acknowledges that.

No one gets to choose who they specifically prefer to be with, anyway. He had to 'Dora!' his way out of his boundaries with you or he would be lying to himself, which he dislikes the most, aside Rohan.

"Are you sure Mr. Joestar's okay with this?" You asked, sighing, "I don't mind giving you a chance now that—"

Josuke didn't even let you finish and proceeded to lock you in his arms, pulling you in excitement as his arms snaked around your neck and your head, "I said 'chance', JoJo! You haven't even asked me if you wanted me to be your girlfriend—"

"So you like me too?" Josuke cut you off again, smiling down at you. You sighed and nodded, accepting your defeat. He shouted a yes, an arm punching above, hitting the roof of the shed, "Aw—! But hey, you just admitted that you like me! Take that, Rohan!"

You slightly pulled away from Josuke, "What does Kishibe have to do with this?" You asked, glaring at him. Josuke shook his head, scratching the back of it as he grinned. Rohan totally had something to do with this as he didn't only set them up, but even tried to discourage the lively Josuke by saying that you'd reject him and tell him that you only see him as family. Technically, he was right— but that didn't last long!

You were going to ask about it again when a thunderstorm sounded, breaking down your collected spirit as you ended up holding yourself close to the boy in front of you. His playfulness aside, he fixed his gakuran that was still on you and wrapped you in his arms protectively, assuring you that you're going to be okay. Another thunderstorm followed, startling you even in his arms. You were a shaking mess, your fists grabbing a handful on the back of his sando, face buried on his chest. He should've been shivering from the cold all this time, but your presence provided warmth for him and he's grateful for that. Josuke willingly let you nuzzle yourself around him, knowing that it comforted you and it brought contentedness to his feelings.

"I hope you won't mind being the rainbow that brings color to my life, [Y/N]."

"Y-yeah, JoJo.. u-unless I strike you as a lightning w-when you break my heart.."

"I'm frightened that you can be scary while you're scared [Y/N] but.. sh*t, I just realized.."

"What i-is it now..?"

"It's also hot."

[End!]

#josuke higashikata x reader #josuke x reader #jjba x reader #josuke higashikata #x reader #joseph joestar x reader #platonic joseph #jjba one shot #one shot fic #rohan kishibe #rohan kishibe x reader #okuyasu nijimura #koichi hirose #jotaro kujo #4taro #jjba part 4 #diamond is unbreakable #morioh #jojo's bizzare adventure #jojo #jojo x reader #josuke confesses to reader #mr. joestar #shizuka joestar #open for criticisms #reader is afraid of thunderstorms #i just wanna write for my pomp boy 😭 #mirawrites

[jangofctts]

Madness (Poe Dameron x Reader)

Rated: Explicit

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: Smut, handjobs, language, sex, creampies, Poe Dameron is a warning in its self, slight description of blood/injury 

A/N: sorry that this is a day late y’all. I'm v sick and high on nyquill yehaww brothers

This is not your fault.

Oh, Stars, but it is.

You bury your fingers, blackened with motor oil, into your hair and fold into yourself. You wish you could disappear. Wouldn't that be a fucking miracle and a half? You spare another glance at the destroyed droid and with a despaired wail, you bury your face into your knees again.

What the fuck were you thinking?

See, it started out fine, like most things do. But of course, like always, it turned out to be a real garbage fire. No, not even that. It was worse than a garbage fire. All you wanted to do was help out, and with the slowly dwindling amount of pilots available, you are pushed to the side. No pilots, no mechanics.

Droid maintenance is not your forte, but Kaydel Ko had specifically asked for your help and of course being the blubbering mess you are, you couldn't say no. All it took was a sweet, helpless smile and then boom! Here you are, stuck with a First Order droid with a processing chip all but fucking obliterated.

You thought it'd be easy to rewire the little BB unit, but the spunky little thing had its very own arsenal of weapons. Your legs and hands are a mess of electrical burns and tiny slashes that sting much worse than a papercut and steadily ooze blood. It would absolutely not stay still, so you resorted to a makeshift prison made out of duct tape and bungee chords until you could sort of pry into the droid's mainframe. You toyed with one wire at most and the droid spun its little head around, knocked the tweezers clean out of your hand, tore three more wires and with a disheartening woop; exploded in your face.

You aren't really thinking straight the moment you decide that hiding the blasted thing would be a grand idea. So, with your face covered in black soot and your hands bordering being numb, you scoop the destroyed droid up and sprint out of the base. You do have some luck, you figure. You run into nobody in the hallways leading outside; no one to see your absolute disaster that you plan on chucking into the dense forest.

You beeline towards the X-Wings and just as you think that you'd finally, finally be done with this whole mess, your worst nightmare appears.

Poe Dameron in all his neon orange jumpsuited glory steps out behind the body of his X-Wing. Right in your path of destruction. It's inevitable, really. The first syllable of watch out is barely out of your mouth before he even comprehends you're there and then you're crashing into him, faster than fucking lightspeed.

The resounding 'oof'  as you barrel into him will no doubt haunt your dreams, and you have just enough time to watch as the droid bounces on the ground, spraying sparks everywhere, then disappear into the underbrush, before Poe collapses on you. At least one of your problems is solved.

"What the hell?"

You would ask the same thing, but the entirety of Poe's weight focused on your back is doing a splendid job of crushing your lungs. Your hand shoots back and slaps at whatever it can. "P-poe! Can't breath!"

"Aw, shit. Sorry, kid."

You heave in precious air once he unravels himself out of the pickle you've put yourself in and before you know it, he hooks an arm underneath your armpit and hauls you up. He takes one good look at you, up and down, and has to bite his lip to keep his smile away. Not like it does much good.

"You—uh—ok, kid?" He coughs, trying real hard.

You throw your hands up. "Oh! Go ahead and laugh! That's all I'm good for anyway!"

What little pride you have left rapidly dwindles but as his shoulders shake in uncontrollable laughter that morphs into one of those laughs where you can't breathe, you can't help but smile yourself. Poe's glee is contagious (even if you are the butt of it) and you're glad you can give him some comedic relief. The days are getting darker, more friends are dying, and it's harder to put on a smile, even for Poe. It's a rare and special moment to provide some momentary happiness.

Eventually his chuckles taper off. He's folded over, clutching his stomach as tears shine at the corners of his eyes. "You—you!"

Another fit of giggles consume him after taking another peek at your face. "Wha—what ha-happened?"

You huff and cross you arms over your chest. Try as you might to appear irked, a lopsided grin still lines your face. "That is none of your business."

Poe wipes at his eyes and stands, his chest still heaving. "You're the one who tackled me. The least you could do is tell me."

"I did not tackle you," you scoff. "You were in the way!"

He's still smiling as he shakes his head. "Yeah, whatever. Kaydel Ko asked you to rewire that FO droid, right?"

You grimace. "No."

He raises a brow and ruffles your unruly hair. "Sure, kid."

Poe takes a glance at where the droid launched into the trees and points. "C'mon, I think it went over there."

To your horror he seizes your upper arm and drags you forward. Oh. nonononono. You dig your heels in but Poe is persistent and you're quickly coming to terms with your impeding doom and ridicule, so you let him take you.

It's easy to find. The droid is still smoking and sparking, looking oh so sad nestled between a tree and a large fern. Poe starts laughing again.

"The hell d'you do to the poor thing? Run it over with a pod-racer?"

"Something like that," you mumble.

Poe scoops it up and the damage looks even more devastating when he's holding it. You chew your lip and sigh as he hands it back. "Thanks, I guess."

With an amused 'mhm' he once again places a hand on your shoulder and wheels you out of the forest. You don't mean to tense up (a force of habit really) as his thumb whispers over your shoulder blade, but the damage is done and his hand drops. You want to wack yourself with a stick.

You pause by his X-Wing. "Hey, I'm sorry for, y'know tackling you. Also, th-thank you..."

He flashes you a smile and shrugs. "No biggie, Sparky."

You scowl. "Don't call me that."

That pulls out another laugh and then he's staring at you. Those big brown eyes, so warm and deep like the richness of the soil, capture yours as if they have their own gravitational pull. All grasp on words slip your mind and you're left to wrestle with your tongue into saying something. Why is he looking at you like that?

"I can help."

You blink. "What?"

"With the droid, I mean," he offers. You swear you can see the skin underneath his collar flush red. Poe Dameron blushing. Hm.

You have absolutely no clue why you agree, but his bright smile is enough to launch your heart against your ribcage.

"Great. I'll let Kaydel know we'll have it done by tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" You squeak. Fat chance.

Before you can argue, he ruffles your hair again and shoots off. "Meet you at 1900 in maintenance!"

You glance down at the droid. The hole in its head sparks. "Oh, Stars."

                                                   =-=-=-=

You're pacing by the time 1850 rolls around, your stomach a mess of knots and twists. You don't want Poe Dameron to help you. In fact, you don't want him here at all!

You're clean at least. The black soot covering your face was a bitch to scrub off and there's still some of it hiding in the lines of your skin, but it's the best you can do. Not that you care. Well, you shouldn't care what Poe thinks. You know each other—scratch that. You know him from the years spent in the Resistance, because, well, he's Poe Dameron. As for yourself, you're 99.9 percent positive the only reason he happens to know your name is because there's only fifteen of you still alive following the aftermath of Crait. Kinda hard not to know your fellow survivors.

You never minded it. You're used to being alone, pushed to the side where you could blend in like a shadow. Really, it's the only reason why you managed to escape the First Order. No one paid you half a mind when you slipped inside that ship and piloted away. Well...you were shot at shortly after, but that's not important.

You're not paying attention--lost inside your head again when the blast doors swoosh open. You don't even fucking see him until you collide head on for the second time today. With a strangled yelp, you both stumble and trip over a flailing limb here and a hidden wire there. The whole debacle ends up with you smacking the back of your head devastatingly hard on the duracrete floor and with Poe's entire weight once again crushing down on your chest cavity.

"Holy shit, Sparky," he groans. His head is nestled in the crook of your neck and if you weren't seeing stars spinning in your fucking orbit, you'd have the decency to be embarrassed. "You trying to kill me?"

"Un-Unsuc-successfully," you wheeze. "How-how m'I doing?"

He pulls away just a fraction, hovering so close that you feel his nose brush against yours. "A for effort. Though, I don't think you're really cut out to be an assassin. Might wanna reconsider that career path."

"Agreed."

Fuck. Your head is pounding. You don't even get to enjoy the way Poe feels pressed against you, or how good he smells. Maker, he smells good, something warm and woodsy, but fuck, you are in so much pain. Are you bleeding? You're pretty sure you're bleeding.

"Did you hit your head?" He asks, his plush lips twitching into a frown. He still hasn't moved from the current position of lying between your legs and it makes everything worse.

"I'm fine."

"You're not fine," he huffs. "I heard your head smack the ground, Sparky. Lemme see it."

Poe peels himself off of you and tugs you into a sitting position. You reel and squeeze your eyes shut as nausea punches through your gut and the edges of your vision go a bit fuzzy. Damn, you really did not plan on getting a concussion today, nor have Poe Dameron be the one to patch you up.

He sits behind you and as his calloused fingers sweep across the back of your neck, you tense up. Poe hesitates then, his fingertips ghost above the skin, barely there and you try to relax. Years spent in an organization where corporal punishment is encouraged will surely make one hesitant of touch and try as you might, it's a hard habit to curve.

"I'm just checking to see if you're bleeding," Poe says softly noting your tension. "Is that ok?"

You nod and wave his concerns away. "Yeah, s'fine."

He cradles the back of your neck in one calloused palm while the other gently cards through your hair. He sucks in an audible wince and icy panic floods your veins. He must sense your apprehension because his thumb unconsciously begins to rub tiny circles onto your skin.

"Don't freak out... But you have a teeny, tiny cut," he tells you. "Microscopic, really."

You're gonna die. Maker, you're gonna die because of that stupid fucking droid. You're going to smash that fucker into smithereens even if it's the last thing you do. You try and move, eyes locked on the piece of junk across the room, but Poe is hurriedly pushing you back down.

"Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa!" His hands are like metal clamps on your shoulders and you grunt in irritation. "Just sit. I'll go get a medkit. Nothing a little bacta won't fix."

He's right. You're overreacting, but that droid's beady little eye seems to sparkle with smug satisfaction at your demise. You glare and swear revenge.

Behind you, Poe runs to the wall where the kit hangs and hurries back with the spray on bacta canister. You barely feel it coat the back of your skull and then he's done. "See, I told you. It's already healing."

"Wow, thank the Maker that the joke of the Resistance is saved," you sigh. You reach up to touch the dully throbbing area but Poe smacks your hand away. "Ow!"

"Don't touch it." He chides.

You roll your eyes and turn your head to face him and jut a thumb over your shoulder, "How long do I have to wait until we get to fixing that piece of shit over there."

Poe blinks, glances at the droid then back to you. "I dunno, half an hour?"

"Half—Poe! Are you serious?" You hiss. "We're going to be here all night!"

The pilot has the audacity to shrug. You want to throttle him. "It's not like we have anywhere to be."

You open your mouth to protest, but once again he's right. You scowl and glare at the frayed laces of your boot. This is officially, the worst day you've ever had.

A prolonged silence, a bit awkward and filled with your obvious irritation, blankets the room. Poe has enough sense not to prod at your buttons and settles down to your right. Your head is starting to feel much better at least.

It continues like this. Neither of you speak for the better part of ten minutes and then, quietly, almost to too quiet, he says;

"You're not a joke, y'know."

Your brows furrow together and you pause. You look up and he's got that warm, familiar look again and it only brings a dull ache that eats away inside your chest. Part of you wants to agree, but that dark and nasty other part that lurks deep in your chest lashes it's claws out at the thought. He doesn't know you—doesn't know the pain you've been through. You don't want his pity.

You look away. "I...I don't think you know who I am, Poe."

Your teeth bite the inside of your cheek as you pick at the skin along your fingernails. You can feel his eyes crawl over your face and you do everything in your power not to catch his eye because tears are starting to prick at your eyes. Maker, why are you crying? This situation, in its entirety, is beyond stupid.

He says your name, your full name and the air in your lungs seizes. "I know you. You were a Lieutenant in the First Order before you came to us. I remember the day you arrived too."

You spare him a glance and he smiles.

"I remember 'cause that janky Xi-class you were piloting was blasted to hell and you somehow managed to park it without killing anyone. And then—this is my favorite part—you walk out, still in your uniform and you go 'I do hope I don't have to pay for parking'. And then you collapse face first onto the ground." Poe's chuckling as a blush flushes up to your ears. You recall. Vividly.

You snort and rub at your chin. "It wasn't all that amazing."

"Sparky, you stole a First Order ship and flew to a Rebel base. That's pretty ballsy."

You shrug.

"I also remember that time you tricked out Jess's rig with those mods. Me and Snap were jealous for weeks. And that time you spilled caf all over Leia's datapac. Remember that?" Poe says. His hand inches closer your knee. "And when you gave her that replacement one, all those ads about male enhancement pills and 'hot Twi'leks near YOU' kept popping up?"

"Arhg!" You cry, burying your face into your hands. You're pretty sure at this point you could fry an egg on your face from how hot your skin feels. "That was so fucking embarrassing. I-I can't—why would—ahg!"

"Kid, that was the funniest thing I've ever seen."

"That still makes me the butt of every joke! And I still can't even fix a droid properly!" You wail. "Or how about that time I dropped a crate of explosives? I might as well throw myself in a trash compactor."

Before you can even fucking blink, Poe's hands snatch up yours and hold them so firmly you have no choice but to look at him. "Sparky, listen to me."

You quite like the color of his eyes you come to find. A honeyed caramel, so rich that it'd take years to explore the countless layers. There's no malice, no hidden motives you can detect. Just pure, unrefined kindness and hope and—Stars, he's gorgeous.

His thumbs run across the slopes of your knuckles and it's electrifying. "You are one of the only people keeping the Resistance together."

"Bu-"

"Shut up. I'm not done."

You mouth zips shut

"You focus so much on the bad that you don't realize how much you contribute," he says with a gentle smile. "You maybe aren't the best with droids, but people? Sparky, so many of us look to you for hope. I know it's cheesy, but you really do brighten a room with your smile."

A tear trails down the curve of your cheek and he's quick to cradle your jaw and swipe it away with the pad of his thumb. "I don't know what we would—what I would do without you."

"Poe," his name comes out shaky and soft and you know he can feel your blush under his palm, "I—I...thank you."

His eyes flicker down to your parted mouth and then he brushes his thumb across the seam of your bottom lip. He leans in close enough that you can feel his lips just graze yours, warm breath fanning over your chin, and your eyes flutter shut.

"Can I kiss you?" He whispers against your lips. Fuck, he is so infuriatingly perfect, isn't he?

"Yes."  Maker, yes, yes, yes. That shouldn't even be a question.

The first kiss is fleeting. An innocent peck that flings open the gaping maw of your desire. Your hand shoots up, tangles in the thick curls atop his head and you drag him closer. He groans into your mouth, grabs at your neck and tilts your head, deepening the kiss. His tongue, hot and wet sweeps over your bottom lip and you readily open your mouth and let your tongue glide over his.

He's playful; breaking away to catch your bottom lip between his teeth, then releasing to hook the tip of his tongue into your top lip then swoop in for a lingering kiss. It's impossible to keep up—he dances to his own tune while you stumble along. There's no lack of enthusiasm on your part however and he isn't bothered in the slightest by the occasional bump of your nose or when the hard enamel of your teeth click together. Your whole juxtaposition changes, and you suddenly want to thank that dumb droid. You'd break a thousand of them if it meant you could continue forever on like this.

Poe eventually leans away, the hand tangled in your hair firm so that you're still only a hairsbreadth apart, carefully lowering himself down until you hover above him. His warm hand that leaves a burning trail down your waist, hooks around your thigh and helps tug your leg over his hips. You pull back to suck in air that's suddenly so difficult to inhale and Stars—he's a sight to see. Those lovely black curls are wild and untamed, his plush lips swollen and pouty because you won't give him another taste of your mouth. His chest heaves and your breath stutters as he plants his hands on the swell of your hips, thumb pressing lightly against the outcrop of bone there.

"Maker, you're gorgeous..." You murmur. You lean down and nestle your head in the crook of his neck, lips seeking out the soft skin above his collar. You trail your lips across the curve of his throat and as your teeth catch his earlobe then lick at the small divot behind his ear, a soft groan leaves his mouth.

"Are-aren't I the one—fuck," his hips twitch as you mouth beneath his stubbled jaw, "s'posed to say that?"

You grin and pull him into an opened mouth kiss. His tongue pulls yours into the wet heat of his mouth and sucks lightly. With a whine, your hips stutter forward as fiery heat trickles into your belly. You can feel the growing bulge in his pants, pressing against your inner thigh and shit—you need him.

Your hips rock forward on their own volition and Poe is quickly there to support as his hands grip you tighter and drag you down harder. He props his knees up and with a sharp moan and digs his clothed cock into the apex of your thighs. The fabric of your pants catches on your clit and it's good. Dry fucking Poe Dameron is a wish come fucking true, but it's not enough.

Poe's smirking as his fingers toy with the buckle of his belt. "You wanna take a ride, Sparky?"

You punch him in the arm.

"Ow!" he pouts. "What was that for?"

"Don't say that shit to me ever again."

His warm chuckle echoes through the room and sends a pleasant shiver down your spine. "What if I ask if you wanna ride my cock reeeal nice and slow? Feel how hot and tight your cunt is when you sink down onto me. You wan't me to say that?"

Paired with his voice, his strong hands grab your ass and roll his hips up into you and you're done for. You melt into his chest, whining out your affirmations and you don't care how he's already got you wrapped so tightly around his fucking finger.

"Take these off." He purrs, skimming his fingertips over the waistband of your trousers.

Somehow you manage to escape your boots and shuck your pants off through the haze of your arousal. When you return, he's got his pants halfway over his knees, pristine white shirt haphazardly torn open revealing the beautiful expanse of tan skin peppered with dark hair. You straddle his thighs, eyeing the tent in his boxers that leaves little to the imagination and the heat in the pit of your stomach swells.

Poe shoots you a coy grin and sweeps a hand down. He grips his cock, still hidden beneath the confines of his boxers, and gives it a teasing stroke. "You want me?"

"Poe," You whine. Stars, he's making this difficult.

He's smug as he slowly, to the point of teasing, tugs down his boxers with his other hand and eases out his cock. It's gorgeous like the rest of him, deliciously thick and curving towards his navel. Precum shines at the head that's flushed a deep maroon, darker than the rest of his sunkissed skin. You're mesmerized with the way he strokes himself; lazy and gentle, focusing on the head then dipping down to squeeze at the base.

His cock bounces as he lets go and snatches your hand that's lying limp over his hip. He guides it over the searing flesh and it feels like velvet covering reinforced durasteel. He swears as your thumb rubs over the head of his cock, wiping away the bead of liquid that pools there. You circle your fingers around his length and stroke down to cup his balls and he juts his hips into your hand.

Fuck. You want to suck him off. Feel him shake and twitch under your tongue and cum down your throat. Yet, as his fingers trail up your inner thigh and pass through the slick folds of your cunt, you are vividly reminded where else you want him.

"Shit," he breaths, circling your clit with the tip of his forefinger. "You're dripping."

Poe probes further, curling his fingers into your cunt, juuust pushing into your entrance until his fingers are shiny and slick with your arousal. He pulls back and you groan at the loss.

He sucks his fingers into his mouth and moans. Fuck, why is that so hot? It shouldn't be. "Can I eat you out, Sparky?"

He's digging his fingers into the flesh of your ass, tempting you closer and Maker it sounds good, but—"Later. Fuck me instead."

Poe's lips curl into a wicked smile. "Are you sure?"

His fingers return to your the soaking flesh between your legs and thumb at your swollen clit. You shudder, quickly catching his wrist. "Please."

"Fine," he grumbles. "Later."

Finally, you think as you hold his cock loosely and grind your slick folds against it. He makes a punched out sound when you raise your hips and move the blunt tip to your entrance. You slowly let him sink in, a long stuttered groan falling past his lips at the feel of your hot, tight walls stretching around his cock. Your own breath catches in your chest and you dig your nails into chest, leaving behind tiny crescent shaped dents.

—oh—shit—holy fucking shit.

His cock is catching every ridge and curve until the back of your thighs are seated on his. His eyes are squeezed shut and little gasps, as if he were in pain, are tumbling out every time you twitch around him. He's thick—deliciously so, and when you raise your hips and slide back down, his cock drags against your walls and presses in deep. You grind your hips down, catching your clit on his pubic bone and wildfire spreads throughout your whole frame.

"Ah, fuck," he moans. He gives your hips a squeeze and pulls you against him harder, guiding you into a slow, steady pace. "You fe-feel good. Knew-knew you would."

At this point you're hardly doing any work despite being on top; he has his knees propped up behind you and thrusts up into you then drags you back down by your hips. You're loosing your fucking mind like this. One of his hands drifts down and reaches for your clit, his middle finger stroking against the slick bundle of nerves and the fire in your belly quickly spreads down all the way to your toes. You're shaking, panting sharply, and Poe continues to toy with your clit paired with the even rolling of his hips.

"You gonna cum on my cock, Sparky?" Poe huffs out, grabbing a handful of your asscheek. "Yeah, just...just like that. Cum for me."

Your back arches and everything seizes up tighter than a fucking clamp, and with another pass along your aching clit, you burst hot and wet around his cock. With a hoarse cry, your core clenches and spasms through each one of his thrusts, stretching out your pleasure.

In one smooth, fluid move, Poe sits up and pushes you forward until your back hits the ground and he's towering over you. His hand is buried in your hair, cradling the sensitive area but you're still riding your high to notice the pain. With his free hand he hooks the back of your knee and folds it over his shoulder. Stars, you didn't even know your leg went up this far and when he roughly thrusts into you, the air in your lungs is sucked out and replaced with a strangled wheeze.

"You like that?"

You claw at his bicep as he kneels up and pounds down into you, hitting that heavenly spot within you. Your eyes roll back and Poe curls over you to nuzzle into your damp skin, teeth digging into the exposed skin above the collar of your shirt you never bothered taking off. His thrusts are slowly reaching the pace you need him to go and you bury your fingers in his hair and pull. His moan vibrates over your skin.

"Harder." You order. "P-Poe. I-I n-need—"

Poe digs his teeth in between the junction of your shoulder, slips his cock nearly all the way out of your cunt, then slams it back in deep. It's fast and brutal, and you can hear your flesh slap together, hear the obscene squelching noice your cunt makes from how wet you are. Your face burns in embarrassment, but he's hitting something so devastatingly wonderful that you don't really give a shit.

He's grunting in your ear, whispering praise—how wet you are and how perfect you whine and beg for him. He's plowing into you and you're close. So close to the edge again.

"Fuck," he growls, "m'gonna cum. Where—where do—"

"Anywhere," you gasp, arching into him. "In-in me. Cum inside."

Poe's hips stutter. The fist in your hair tightens and he rocks his hips into three—maybe four times before the muscles in your back stiffen and everything blurs and goes out of focus. White hot pleasure rips you apart, floods each cell with razor sharp heat as your body convulses in ecstasy.

He's hissing out swears between his clenched teeth, as his hips jolt and grinds himself balls deep inside you. Poe captures your lips and feel him pulse and throb, chest heaving, as his load, thick and hot, spurts into you and coats your walls.

Poe keeps you pinned there as his hips shallowly rock into you, savoring the last dregs of his orgasm as you catch your breath. He stills and you two lay there, filling the room with your gentle pants. Your knee slips off his shoulder and he moves to plant a lazy kiss on the corner of your mouth and pulls out. His cum trickles out after and drips down your slit but you're too spent to care right now.

He lifts his head that's resting on your sternum. "How's your head, Sparky?"

"Wha—oh." Truth is you hardly feel it now. The bacta truly does work wonders. "S'fine. Never better."

He shoots you a dashing smile, the gap in his teeth and his boyish air makes your head spin. "Wanna take me out for another spin, then?"

"Poe!"

And the droid never did get fixed...Oh well...

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you #star wars #the rise of skywalker #fanfic #itsspacecowboys #this is disgusTANG beware #probably doesn't make sense cuz I'm sick af but eh #smut