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starzshopoflove · 7 months

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Sweetness

(Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader)

Notes: fem reader! i hc ghost doesn't wear a mask when he's off duty, this is just whatever rot my mouse brain creates.

WC: 2.3k

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Ghost has been weird lately—really weird. He’s not yelling at recruits; he’s not entertaining Soap's stupid arguments; he doesn't get irritated as quickly; and more noticeably, he’s been far more brutal on the field.

Ghost never hesitated to use himself as a shield, letting himself take the pain he thought they didn't deserve. He still did, but now it was different; he was a wall of muscle, but now he pushed for them to get out of fire asap. He’d kill the enemy with more prejudice, like they had already killed his most cherished friends. The look in his eyes was more wild; the adrenaline in his blood was more like fire than it was chemical. Pumping around his big body, he chanted “Protect, Protect, Protect,” which he liked much more than when it used to say “Kill Kill Kill.”

They always loved Ghost as the no-nonsense in-and-out man on the field, the one who always puts others before himself during missions, a man who'd welcome death with open hands if it meant the rest of 141 would live. They loved Simon, the man on base without the skull of a man hiding him, the one who wore a less scary baklava, the man with scars and cuts on his face when they went to the pub, the man with horrible jokes, the man who'd make the base's shitty tea somewhat edible. Simon was different too. Simon ate faster, talked a little more, and rushed to get alone as soon as he could, locking his door and not letting anyone in past dark.

Price got tipped off when he saw the little line of white peeking out of one of his vest pockets on the chopper back to base after the whole Las Almas mission. Short square over his heart under the flag that he proudly wore on his vest. He couldn't see the photo, of course, but he could tell what it was.

A captain should know everything about his force—their past, present, and future. Price knew his past and possibly knew more about his present when they weren't on duty. He knew Simon had shifted flats, moving closer to the city center, when Simon told him to update his address on his off-base database file in order to get any checks or documents for future missions. Simon didn't tell him why. Price assumed probably better rent, or maybe he was sick of the shitty neighborhood he once resided in, or maybe he was sick of walking a half hour for groceries.

Price was getting an itch—an itch he didn't like. Price hated not knowing; of course everyone was entitled to a private life, but not when it put him off.

He felt dirty snooping in Simon's office, betraying his lieutenant's trust. He waited until Simon went back to his quarters, slipping in and shutting the door behind him. Nothing felt different, and nothing looked different either. The burning fluorescent lights flickered every now and then, but the air was still stale. No photos, no knicknacks on his desk, bare. Absolute bare, devoid of any personality, anything that would tell you about him, anything you could use against him had the enemy invaded the base.

Pacing around the room, Price checked under the desk and in the drawers twice. He winced at the squeak of the steel on the wheels and how loud it sounded. He snooped through documents, flicking through them quickly, only seeing the same pen and paper against the Manila folders. His eyes scanned the room again and again, only making him bubble and sigh in frustration, running his hand through his hair and gripping his hat in the other.

He stared at the metal closet, almost like it was staring back. Open me. Open me. I have what you want. As if it were beckoning him to spill every secret inside. Everyone had the same one. No one liked opening it; doing that meant leaving, meant war, and meant more time on the field. The field where you were going to get killed or killed, feeling less human every time you shoot. You welcome the gnawing, snarling, vapid ache that takes up all the space in your lungs when you try to breathe when you open that closet.

He hesitated at first, turning the little lock handle before opening the door gently, trying not to focus on the squeaking. Everything stared back, and Ghost stared back. The mask, once plain fabric, is now soaked in years of war; the blood of war dogs saturated it, and the skull of a man no one knew was tightly bound to it.

Grim, dirt, and filth

Guns that had killed more men than one could say, knives clean but still holding the smell of iron and sweat, boots with soles dirtied with soil and dust, and his vest Almost the same one wore the UK flag stitched neatly on with the same little rectangle shape pressed behind, right over the heart.

He wanted to shut the door, he wanted to leave, and he wanted to do everything that would allow him to pretend nothing happened and that he was never in here. He didn't, justifying in his mind that he was doing the right thing.

I'm not doing anything wrong

Unhooking the vest from the inside holding it in his hands, heavy.

I'm just worried

He set the vest flat on the desk, burning holes into it with his eyes.

I just want to know whats happening

His hands almost shook, sliding 2 fingers in the pocket, a soft grip on the polaroid, a feeling that confirmed everything he thought on the heli.

I'm doing this for you

The photo was small, almost choking him when he saw it. When he saw you, A big, bright smile pulled on a young woman's face—a toothy smile you only make when you're in love. Your eyes shut so tight, your hair is messy from the wind, framing your face so delicately, and the big bouquet in your hands is held so tightly that the stems may have bent. You were beautiful, no doubt, but his eyes lingered over to the man next to you before they glanced down at the writing in the ink pen.

Simon and I, 2.6. Manchester flower festival

Simon was staring at you in the photo, not even bothering to pay attention to the camera. Even if the photo wasn't high quality, anyone could see his eyes melting at the sight of you, how relaxed his shoulders were, and the crease next to his eyes from how he was smiling. Simon was smiling, not grinning or smirking like he does after everyone groans at his awful joke; he was smiling like he'd won the powerball.

Swallowing his pride and shame, he carefully tucked the photo back in and just as cautiously put it back. Backing out of the office, he could feel every question creeping up from the back of his brain.

“Who is she?" “What was her name?”

“How old was she?” “What does she do?”

“Does she know?"

He pushed his thoughts back down, shaming himself for suspecting anything about Simon, mentally noting to sneak him some better quality tea as a silent apology.

___

Simon isn't stupid. He can tell they're all being weird.

Is he going to ignore it? Absolutely.

They’re all cramped up in the corner of the shitty pub booth, drinking the shitty beer, and having a shitty night. Waiting for the night before leave starts is both exciting and irritating; each of them is counting down the seconds until they're home, be it alone or with family. Anything is better than a night on their cot in a cold, soulless room on base.

Simon was letting his skin breathe, finally taking off his plain balaclava when they were far enough off base to nurse his pint while the ball of his foot anxiously bounced his leg. He needed to be home, needed to be with you, needed to hold you; he just needed you. Inside his head, he was practically foaming at the mouth, snarling at himself, trying to make every second go by faster than it should so he could finally get his fix.

While he wasn't showing it, he couldn't hide the impatience basically seeping out of his pores, eyes hazed and uninterested in anything around him, his mind drowning out the sounds of the group's conversation with all the noise in the pub combining into a numbing chatter. He was so lost in his own head that he couldn't hear soap talking to him until he felt an elbow on his side.

“Awright? a'm talking tae ye?”

“Sorry. Say it again”

Bad choice. Soap had that stupid look on his face, a teeth-baring grin with his eyebrows slightly turned up, like he knew something he shouldn't. That alone made his eyes move on Gaz next to him, then Price. Gaz looked constipated, brows furrowed together, nostrils flared as he focused on his own pint, and suddenly Price was doing the same. Soaps eyes bored into Simons while the other 2 men had a new intense interest in their drinks.

“Said ye leek lik' yer thinking aboot yer bird”

“Don't know what your saying”

“Och c'moan dinnae lie tae us, a' body kin tell.”

Suddenly Simon also understood what was so interesting about his pint, bringing the drink back to his lips while his eyes gazed off at the wall next to him. He could feel his back itching and shifting in his seat, his shoulders tensing back up as he bottomed out with his drink, letting the glass sit back down on the table.

“Said, I don't know what youre talkin’ about.”

“Right, 'n' a'm king o' scotland.”

Soap was getting too close and cocky for comfort, too loudly sniffing about where he shouldn't, and poking the bear with a stick too short. Leaning back in his seat, he crossed his arms over his chest, letting the black fabric stretch as he puffed out his chest still with that fucking grin.

“Heard ye talking tae her.”

“No you didn't.”

Price's interest in his pint redirected to the tense conversation on his left; he knew he shouldn't know, but he didn't know Soap knew. The guilt from earlier that was frigid in his mind thawed a little at Simon's denial. If he was lying, that means he was right to search, right? You should never lie to your captain, after all.

“Really? Haven’t got a bird at home?”

“No.”

“Dinnae ye know lyin a’ sin”

A gutted groan left Soap as he folded over to hold his own knee from the sudden kick under the table. At this point, there was no use lying. If anyone was going to find out about you, it was better for them than anyone else. Mental gymnastics were set aside as he made a list.

On one hand, they could act as insurance; god forbid anything happens to him, you would be safer with them alone, never knowing what happens, and maybe now you would stop pestering him about meeting his friends (he doesn't have any but them). On the other hand, the possibility of you being compromised would finally exist; that thought alone could make him sick.

A long drag of stale air settled in his lungs, slamming his eyes shut as he let that same breath out. Straightening his back and resting his arms on the table, he let them flutter open and fall on Soap.

“You get one question each. One”

Giddy laughter bubbled up out of Johnny; he was just so happy he could finally open up Simon's brain and have a peek. Shooting down both Price and Johnny's question with a quick answer of your name and age only to result in Johnny giving him a wolf whistle that rewarded him with another kick to the shin. Gaz let his nervous shifting settle now that the cat was out of the bag, with his question filling the air with a new strain of tension.

“Can we see her?”

Hair. On. Ends.

What does he mean by can they see you? Do they want to meet you? Just a picture? Or will that put you in more danger than them now knowing you exist? Maybe it’ll be safer?

“One picture, than nothin else outta you lot for tonight”

Digging through his album of you in search of a simple photo was tougher than he thought; most were in your shop working, you asleep, some in a more compromising position than he’d like to share, but granted, he finally found one.

You were sitting on your shop counter with your hands settled on the wood supporting you while you had that same teeth-baring smile, eyes open this time, and hair not whipped by the wind. In all honesty, Simon thought you were perfect like this, makeup or not; he loved seeing you like this. You could wear neon-colored jumpsuits for the rest of your lives, and he’d still think you're gorgeous.

It was always you to him. Anytime he sees you, he thinks he could go limp. He was hopelessly devoted to you, ready to drop to his knees and confess all his sins if it meant he could drown in you. You invaded all his senses, unearthing parts of him he didn't know were still alive. You calmed that sick mess festering in him that used to wait until it was dark to sink its teeth into him, reminding him how disgusting he was. You dragged him out of that soulless apartment and breathed life into him. Every time you flood him with ambrosia and honey with the sound of your voice or the heat of your skin.

Well, now he had to let them meet you. A photo could never do you justice.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

can u tell i let this chapter get away from me a bit near the end

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obsessedduh · 2 months

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previous part | next part —> here

cw: mentions of blood, gore, stalking, obsession, peverse and creepy reader, yander intendecies! implied fem reader but I tried to make it as gender neutral as possible!

MDNI – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Careless!Simon 'Ghost' Riley who knows yandere!reader is stalking him. he's a military man, he's gonna hear you creep and watch him outside of his window!

simon who knows your the dirty little thief who's been stealing his clothes, mostly boxers. simon who keeps all your stupid notes that you write for him, they're normally weird but sweet in a really, really creepy way.

'si! you looked so pretty in the shower today, played with myself while looking at your pretty cock today! from your secret admirer ♡' you would leave him with a lazy drawing of a heart on his bathroom mirror.

'hey my love, you're finally home...look at the little gift i sent you on your phone!' he cocks an eyebrow, this was different? no, corny heart? no, 'from your secret admirer'? no weird, perverted stuff? just a simple note? that made simon confused, sure - the notes you give him were perverse and weird and should've made anyone who read them feel hella uncomfortable but the fact you didn't write anything odd in this specific note seemed a whole lot more creepy than it normally does.

he shrugs and takes his phone out of his pocket, clicking on the random number notifcation, as per usual, from how many times you've texted him he should really save your number. his eyes widen to see a picture of you, without your usual mask. wait a minute, he remembers you! you're the medic at work.

he couldn't believe it, you!? but your one of the sweetest and innocent people he knows there, in fact maybe even the sweetest. always treating solider's with care. always comforting soliders if they are surfering emotionally or physically. always cheering people up. always having a bright smile on you're no matter how shit the situation is. always putting a smile on people's faces.

he takes a good look at you, sheesh you were so pretty, he's finished staring at your face for a good long while, his eyes shift to the other side of the photo. his eyes shoot wide open again to see you next to a dead body of a blonde woman. a large cut in the middle of her stomach while organs hang out of her. gory much!

he groans out of digust until - wait a minute! he recognises theml? oh yeah, it's the girl from last week, the one who tried to get his number. his wide eyes slowly turn shift back into normal and he smirks and laughs. replying to your messages with:

mylove🤍: Was this out of pure jealously?

you hear a ding in your pocket while trying to dispose of the body. you gasp to see a message from simon, everytime you texted him, he would never reply always leaving you on opened. you were surprised when he actually did reply! you clicked on the notifcation, taking you to your chats. you giggle and immediately you realize how formally he texts, how boring until you finally read it, guess he's just as sane as you.

you: yup

he snickers at your childish reply.

mylove🤍: You gonna do this everytime a girl flirts with me?

you: yup

mylove🤍: Guess I should let girls flirt with me more often then, hm?

your laughed at the text, does he seriously not care that your literally killing people out of pure jealously!? i guess not, he's literally saying he'll let girls flirt with him just so you can slaughter them later.

you: dont tell me u want me to kill more girls for u si?

mylove🤍: Is that not what I've just implied?

you bit your lip at that, your crush is willingly let you kill people for him, it's like your dream come true.

you: i guess ill have continue doing it then

mylove🤍: I guess so.

your heat dropped at the next message he sent you.

mylove🤍: Also did not think you would be the cute medic from work though.

shit!

you forgot to blur out your face...

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

wanna know more about me —> here

masterlist —> here

#🎀 — 𝑶𝑩𝑺𝑬𝑺𝑺𝑬𝑫 #cod ghost #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley x gender neutral reader

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finelinevogue · 1 year

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distant promises

summary - Bucky has been on a mission for a long time and you miss him

warnings: insomnia, long-distance relationship, swearing, Christmas sadness (only slightly)

pairing: boyfriend!bucky x reader

word count: 2k

Bucky had been gone for 6 months now.

He was currently on a mission in the French Alps, taking down some military base that had connections to HYDRA. The mission meant a lot to him, not thanks to having been tested on and tortured with over a multitude of years. It had taken him a while to be comfortable with who he was and rid himself of the Winter Soldier. You could see him coming accepting himself for who he truly was more each day. He wasn't afraid of who he was anymore and it was an honour to have helped him through that.

It was currently 1 in the morning and you still had yet to fall asleep. You had been finding it harder and harder to fall asleep as the months went by without Bucky. It certainly didn't help that you were taking extra shifts at Starbucks, in order to pay off some debts you owed to banks and Bucky.

Bucky kept telling you to cut back on the shifts and let him pay off some of your debts you owed him too much already that you couldn’t justify anymore.

So insomnia it was.

You honestly couldn't think of what you'd done to deserve him.

Turning in bed to check your phone, you started scrolling through your Instagram to like photos on your dashboard. There were some pictures of friends who were out clubbing, singing Christmas songs at the top of their lung. There were also some celebrities posting magazine shoots and as always there were the cat accounts that you religiously followed.

You were scrolling and liking for about ten minutes before you had an incoming call from Bucky.

"Hey Buck." You sounded surprised that he'd called you. Normally it was too risky to call since he didn’t want anyone to track his phone and give away his location, but here he was.

"Hi babe." You could hear the smile in his voice.

"What's up?" You asked as you snuggled further under the warmth of your fresh, clean, duvet.

"I saw you were active on Instagram, but I know it’s really early morning where you are so I just wanted to make sure everything is okay?"

Knowing that Bucky kept tabs on what time it was where you were was just one of the small things he did which meant a whole lot more than anything his money could buy you.

"Yeah everything's good.” Buck stayed silent as you answered, knowing there was more to it. “It’s, um, just that I wish you were here with me."

"Oh darling, I miss you so much. I promise you it won't be long before I see you next." Now it was your turn to remain silent. "Y/N? Please don't cry darling."

“Sorry.” You sniffled, getting yourself worked up over something so trivial.

"Hey, no. Don’t apologise. I have to go really soon love, but I'm not going to hang up until I know you're alright."

"No need to worry about me Buck. I'll be alright." You tried to say as happily as possible, but you knew Bucky would catch on that what you were saying was far from the truth.

"Babe, you know I worry about you constantly." He laughed.

“Like literally ALL the time.” You heard Sam shout in the background, making you laugh.

"Is Sam there?" You asked Bucky.

“Yeah. Y’wanna say hi?”

"Mhm."

"Y/N I can’t deal with this emotional softie anymore." Sam said without a hello.

“Emotional softie? Are we sure we’re talking about the same man?” You teased Bucky, knowing that he most likely had you on speaker phone.

“The bionic-dude right?” Sam made himself laugh and you heard a grunt from what sounded like Bucky punching Sam. You rolled your eyes over their stupid playfulness, before Bucky came back to the phone.

"Yeah, that's enough of that.”

“Surprised you two have kept each other alive.” You laughed to Bucky, eyes feeling heavier now that you’d safely heard from him.

“Barely.” You shuffled again in bed. “Okay darling, I have to go now. As much as I don't want to I'm gonna have to love you and leave you. Just promise me you'll try and get some sleep?"

“As long as you promise to come home for Christmas.”

"I promise."

“Then I promise too.”

"I love you." Bucky just kissed the microphone to make it sound like he was really kissing you. You kissed yours back and you both stayed on the phone for another minute as you wrapped up your goodbye, before you attempted some better sleep.

•••••

Needless to say, when you woke up the next morning you felt awful.

There was still no surprise Bucky waking up next to you. There was a lack of smell on his side of the bed where he should be sleeping. There was no mess on his side of the room or whistling from a silly tune he’d make up.

It was going to be another day without him and with only a few days until Christmas, you were starting to lose hope on spending it with him.

Your scheduled alarm went off at 7am for your morning shift. You aspired to open up your own cafe one day and so you wanted to get the knowledge of how business operates and be able to tackle customer experience first hand. That’s why you worked in Starbucks. You were also taking an online degree in finance and business, to help you for when you open your cafe.

You got ready by putting on your black jeans and the Starbucks t-shirt. You threw on your basic vans and grabbed your bag before going out the front door to work. Starbucks was about a 30 minute walk from your shared house. Normally Bucky would drive you, because that's the gentleman he is, but because he hasn't been here you've been walking to work. It’s mostly a pleasant walk, but you hate having so much time to yourself and your thoughts.

Your manager told you that you'd be managing the shop floor today, meaning you had to give all the employees individual jobs, whilst help make the drinks and also be in charge of the tills’ money. It was going to be a stressful, but worth the experience.

Plus, anything to keep your mind off Bucky and how he was doing

It had been about 2 hours into your shift and you'd managed to get through with no complaints, so you’d given yourself a break. You weren’t feeling hungry just yet though, so you just got a cappuccino and went into the back office for your 20 minute break.

Not even 3 minutes into your break one of the employees came in.

"Hi Y/N. Sorry to disturb you but there's a customer out front who wants a manager to complain to."

This was a reason why you didn’t want to be a manager all the time, because you were really bad for getting upset when someone shouted at you.

"Ok. Thanks Nina. I'll be there in 2 seconds." You wiped your hand around your mouth to make sure there's no froth left behind and then went back out front. "Nina, where are they?" You asked her, as you couldn't see anyone obvious who looked like they wanted to complain.

"Umm..." She scanned the room. "Oh, that gentleman sat by the window over there." She pointed to a man who had his hoodie slightly pulled up and was looking out the window.

Walking over, you wiped your clammy hands on your red apron because as much as you put on a brave face sometimes social interactions gave you anxiety. You took a deep breathe before being prepared to get screamed at. Why anyone would want to scream and shout this close to Christmas you didn’t understand. Where was the Christmas joy?

"Hi. I'm Y/N. My colleague said you had a complaint?" You asked politely.

"Yeah I just wanted to complain that this cup of coffee is not nearly as good as the one that my girlfriend makes at home. So, why is that?" He turned around to you and took down the hood from his head and sunglasses off to look directly at you.

You took a step back, reaching for the counter to support yourself from fainting in disbelief.

Bucky was in your Starbucks making a "complaint".

You covered your face with your hands as you sunk down to the floor crying. You were so shocked that he was actually here that you didn't even know how to act. He laughed at as he stood up from his chair and slowly walked over to where you were crouched down on the floor.

You stood up and looked around to see customers and colleagues smiling and Nina was filming the whole thing. "You knew! Oh for fuck sake!" You cry-laughed, as you pointed at Nina.

"Surprise?"

You just shook your head. You could hear Bucky laughing at the whole situation - a laugh that you'd missed more than you'd allowed yourself to believe.

"Do I not get an ecstatic run, jump and a hug from my girlfriend?" Bucky joked, holding his arms wide open for you to be engulfed in.

"You're a knob!" You joked at him, shaking your head because you couldn't get over he was actually in front of you.

"Sam said you'd say that!"

You slapped your hand on your forehead when you actually realised what was going on. "What the actual fuck? You're really here?"

"I'm worried it's taken you this long to realise it, darling!" His arms were still wide open.

You laughed as you ran and jumped into his warm and loving embrace. You wrapped your arms around his neck and legs around his waist, whilst he wrapped his arms firmly around your waist to support you from falling. You started to cry again whilst inhaling his sweet cinnamon scent. He just smelt like home. "I'm going to have go on missions more often if it means I can surprise you like this!" He said, but you were too busy crying over the fact your best friend was back in your arms.

"You're actually here." You whispered into his neck.

"I am, love. I am right here." He whispered back to you, pressing a multitude of kisses to the side of your face. "I'm always going to be here." You didn't care that he was being the stereotypical smushy boyfriend, right now you were just glad you were back with each other.

You let each other go. Bucky wiped your tears away with the sleeve of his hoodie and kissed your forehead.

"I've still got like 2 hours of my shift left." You said, wondering what he's going to do now.

"Yeah, fuck no. I spoke to your manager and she was more than happy for you to go home early. With me, obviously."

"Really?" Your eyes lit up over the thought of spending the rest of the day glued next to him.

"Let's go home and get some well deserved sleep for a change." He took your hand and squeezed it, just once more for reassurance that he was home with you.

#bucky barnes blurbs #bucky barnes fight #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fluff #finelinevogue ficmas 2022 #finelinevogue ficmas #ficmas

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ohnoitstbskyen · 6 months

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youtube

The Heartsteel splash art is very bad, and here's why

I am not a fan of the collective Heartsteel splash art, and in fact, I think it's kinda s***ty. Not on a technical level, mind you, it is every bit as well rendered and nicely drawn as most other Riot art is, but as a way to introduce these characters? As a pitch to get us excited about them? This is genuinely kind of f***ing terrible. First of all, it's copying the original K/DA splash arts, which also had each band member copy pasted in different positions in each splash, with a different character in the spotlight. And that's not a great place to start from, because it feels like a total lack of confidence in the product, like some suit-wearing executive saying "just copy whatever worked the first time!" The splash art should be an opportunity to introduce what's new and unique about the band, and copying K/DA like this completely fumbles that opportunity and invites really unflattering comparisons. Second, the copy pasting is a problem. For two reasons: First, it looks cheap. It just does. There is no way to put out six splash arts with the exact same pixels copy-pasted into different positions that doesn't, on an instinctual level, feel cheap. All that says is "we didn't want to pay for more than one splash art." It looks like corner cutting. Second, it forces every character in the art to be completely separate from one another. A big part of the band's charm in their excellent music video is the interaction and camaraderie between the boys as they get into frat boy shenanigans shooting their music video, but since every character has to be able to be copy-pasted and moved independently in the splash, they can't interact or pose together in any way, making them seem completely disconnected from one another. One of the simplest ways to add a bunch of character and charm to these splash arts would be to have one character up front doing their cool pose, and then the other five boys dicking around in the background, armwrestling or hugging or, I dunno, giving each other piggyback rides. Instead, we just get sterile clip-art of each of them that don't even seem to be aware that the other guys are there. And when they are up front, the poses they do are also… mostly kinda lame? Sett is supposed to be this tough-guy with a heart of gold rapper with a big attitude and he's just, like, vaguely flexing, kinda. K'sante is supposed to be this imposing, powerful vocalist and he's just… standing there. Yone looks bored, Aphelios looks like an emo kid who's being forced to be in a family photo by his mom, and Kayn, who's supposed to be this rowdy chaotic bad boy, is just… doing a peace sign and sticking his tongue out? He gets completely overshadowed by himself: his Shadow Assassin and Rhaast forms in the background, which DO get to interact, which DO get to play with each other, and who are more charming than everything else these splash arts do. It genuinely baffles me that Riot couldn't be bothered to spend the money to get each of them unique splash arts, give these characters an opportunity to show off their costumes and their personality, or at least spend the money to have them drawn a little bit different in each of the six versions of this thing that they put out. This splash art, to me, feels like an active discouragement from investing in Heartsteel, because looking at this, looking at all the corners that are being cut, even Riot doesn't feel committed to them as a project. And like yeah, the music video is great and it's doing a lot of heavy lifting for them, but this splash art is an actual liability, it makes the whole project look worse.

#tbskyen #heartsteel #heartsteel kayn #heartsteel sett #heartsteel ezreal #heartsteel aphelios #heartsteel yone #heartsteel k'sante #heartsteel rhaast #league of legends #Youtube

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mikhailwrites · 6 months

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MWIII Campaign thoughts&opinion

⚠️SPOILERS AHEAD (OBVIOUSLY)⚠️

Alright, here we go. Modern Warfare III. Disclaimer: I've been part-timing as videogame journalist (not in EN, obviously) for the past 10 years so this might read a bit like a review which this is not.

It's been a year since we watched the 141 sit in the bar in Chicago and look at the photo of one Vladimir Makarov. And the day of reckoning is finally here, at least for those of us with eaely access to the campaign.

The game opens, surprisingly, from the Konni perspective. As one of Konni soldiers, you infiltrate the prison to free your boss. First look at Makarov is menacing and leaves an impression.

Speaking of Makarov, however, I can't but feel like the writers had dropped the ball. It's obvious they were trying to go for the unhinged psychopath vibe but honestly, so many Makarov's lines borders on ridiculous, oftentimes crossing the line entirely. At times, I felt like I'm watching an old 007 villain and I don't mean it in the good way.

Most glaring example was in the Flashpoint mission. As Price and Soap capture Makarov after bombing the stadium in Verdansk, the terrorist then taunts and mocks them, revealing to know their names and threatening them with a revenge. The dialogue is, frankly, on a bad side and Makarov in that scene sounded to me more like a spoiled, rich teenager than much feared leader of a private army with ambition to start another World War.

It also contrasted wildly with the continuation of the scene where we see Soap almost lose it, tackling Makarov and pressing a gun to his head while Price tries to dissuade him from killing the criminal on the spot. That bit was well executed and I really liked it.

What I also liked was the Passenger mission and the very unique perspective we got as players, feeling the helplessness of the victim as it's forced to play role of a terrorist, solely based on their ethnicity. The "You're not a terrorist, but you look like one," line felt very powerful, especially in the context of current affairs.

The whole campaign felt very rushed and, in my opinion, the total commitment to the "race against the clock" hurt the narration a lot. There is not a moment of respite and every piece of the puzzle is delivered in a manner so hurried, I sometimes had trouble following it.

Especially in the Danger Close mission as we, similarly to MWII, operate Shadow Company gunship to provide air support, and out of nowhere, we get a shout that there's a helo nearby and Makarov's in it.

We then proceed to shoot the helicopter down and Makarov is seemingly KIA. Well, he's obviously not but the whole scene is delivered in such a luckluster manner that I was wondering if I perhaps missed some cutscene or debrief (I didn't) and was asking myself if the developers are even serious.

The overall pacing is off, especially compared to MWII and this leads to the lack of impact and emotional response.

Which brings us to the more sensitive part of this post. Being a Ghost/Soap shipper, I was happy to see the two interact and to pick up the rapport established in the previous game. Like many others, I, too, would appreciate more time with them, but I would appreciate more missions and longer campaign rather than cut other characters' screen time.

When they are on the screen, banter is usually quick to follow. Soap and Ghost interact easily with each other, hinting at a natural progress of their relationship. The Milena interrogation is especially great in this regard.

And then there's that ending. Honestly, I knew someone would die. I think it was pretty much given. Still, I had my bets on Ghost, thinking that Soap was way too fresh and had his whole career ahead of him to be sacrificed. Well, I was wrong.

In the confines of the story, it makes sense it's him. There is major foreshadowing happening in the Verdansk mission and when Soap ends up going with Price at the end, well, it was clear. Soap almost killed Makarov years prior, Price stopped him, and now Makarov comes and kills Soap right in front of Price. The choices and consequences. It makes sense.

But.

But it serves no purpose. It's literally the last mission, so what could've served as the major catalyst for the big finale - rest of 141 coming for Makarov for some good old revenge - just ends up rather sour. Especially since Johnny, during his last struggle, as he saves Price's life, doesn't even manage to kill Makarov, only injuring him, albeit badly.

It gets worse when you realise that during both games, Soap didn't get any justice at all. In MWII, he seemingly kills Graves, taking a revenge for the betrayal and the Alone mission. Only for Graves to casually reappear later, stating he wasn't in the tank that the game clearly stated he was in.

And now he loses his life without taking Makarov with him. It's... beyond sad for the character to get treated this badly by the narration.

The team's response to his death is a bit mild as well. It starts well, with Ghost scrambling to him as soon as he spots him, feeling for vitals even though it has to be clear to him that he's gone, that felt gutwrenching. But after that? It's... lacking some stronger emotional response. They say their farewells to Johnny, a single sentence each (and, my god, did they truly think the "he was the best of us" clichè would work on any level whatsoever?), scattering his ashes, and that, too, as great as the animation was, just... felt a bit hollow and artificial.

There are ways to kill a beloved character to make it feel truly heartbreaking and meaningful. The scriptwriters here should've taken notes from Destiny 2's Forsaken DLC for example. They could've used Soap's death in a myriad of ways, including making player to choose between, say, saving Soap and letting Makarov escape. Or between saving Soap and defusing the bomb. Or just about dozen other narrative choices that would make Soap's death more meaningful and would have much bigger impact on the player.

As it is, I cannot help but say my own farewell words: Johnny died, but what for?

#call of duty #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #ghost x soap #ghostsoap #soapghost #ghoap #modern warfare iii #cod mw3 #mw3 spoilers

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plentyoffandoms · 7 days

Note

Hey boo!

I've been obsessing over this song and I feel like you would be able to create an amazing smut piece from it.

I would, of course, love it to be Hook or Ricky, but any wrestler could work.

Main Masterlist ♡ Wrestlers Masterlist ♡ Hook Masterlist

LIKE YOU MEAN IT (18+)

Hook x f/Reader

Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.

Warnings: Smut under the cut. P in V. Unprotected sex. Outdoor sex

Gifs and photos do not belong to me: 1st gif @junglehooks

Requested by @wwenhlimagines . I hope you like it.

Tyler - Hook

Red wine and roses

Sugar-coated

Your carousel spin me round

Round, round, round

The two of us were sitting on the balcony of our hotel room. Looking up at the night sky, we could see the stars clearly out here tonight.

It was a perfect night. The moon was shining down on us, and I swear I saw a shooting star, but that could have been just my imagination as her pussy was squeezing my cock just perfect way.

My hands gripped her hips as she leisurely moved up and down atop of me. Her hands gripped my shoulders to steady herself.

We both know we

Don't want us, oh we

Inside, we're screaming so loud

Loud, loud, loud

I am biting the inside of my cheek to keep from moaning loudly, not wanting to alert anyone who may be out here, looking up at the night sky.

I didn't want them to see her, how I should only see her, but she was making it hard for me to stay quiet.

"Come here." Was all I said as I placed my hand at the nape of her neck and brought her lips to mine for a heated kiss.

The two of us moaning into the kiss, finally being able to make some type of noise.

When the horns start playing, and you can't stop shaking

The bloodlust runs to your cheeks

Then your mind starts racing, and your bones start aching

It's time to let him know what you need

"Tyler, I need you." She whimpered against my lips as she pulled back, her pace slowing down even more.

"I'm right here, baby." I told her as I sat up and started to kiss and bite her neck, working my day to her chest.

"Please." Was all she said.

"I got you, baby."I pulled my cock out of her, I flipped us over so her back was now on the lounger. She wrapped her arms around my neck as I wrapped her legs around my waist.

Fuck me like you mean it (like you mean it)

Make me believe it (me believe it)

Walk the wire, it's alright

I gripped my cock and slapped it against her pussy, making her shiver. She knows what is going to happen. "Be quiet for me, baby, and I'll reward you."

She didn't have time to cover her mouth as I slammed into her, fucking her hard and fast.

She was biting by shoulder, trying to keep quiet, and I swear she broke skin, but I didn't care.

Not with the way her whole body was gripping me oh so tightly.

Love me like you need it (like you need it)

'Cause I can feel it (I can feel it)

Take it higher, show me why

I fucked her all over this balcony, just not caring anymore if we got caught. I fucked her through each orgasm I was able to pull from her body.

I knew she was getting tired, as she slumped over the table, but never once said the safe word.

She wanted me to fuck her until she passes out or says our safe word.

Keep my composure

I think it's over

Her cherry lips knock me down

Down, down, down

We are now on the lounger once more, her atop of me as I fuck up into her. Our bodies were sweaty, but I just need a couple more minutes. I am so close. So very fucking close.

Take it slower

Getting closer

But then, she lets out a sound

Sound, sound, sound

But then, it was like a dam burst inside of her. She cried out my name loudly. It seemed to echo in my ears.

Her body went stiff, as her pussy squeezed my cock for the final time tonight.

She collapsed against me, just as I groaned her name, trusting sloppily into her as I came.

The two of us hold onto one another as we catch our breaths.

I bring my lips to hers and gently kiss her, and she tiredly kisses me back.

Tag list: @lghockey @nicoleveno14 @legit9thlunaticwarrior @hooks-martin @wwenhlimagines @melissahausen @faerieofthenightcourt @tahiri-veyla @crowleysqueenofhell

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werezmastarbucks · 8 months

Text

kevin khatchadourian x female reader timeline of relationship

(actually, a story I am too lazy to write, but which is just clear and palpable in my head)

• you meet him three times

warnings: violence, manipulation, underage relationships (no grooming), mentions of dissecting frogs, abuse (duh), toxic relationship, unpleasant and traumatic first sex, the OC is kinda very, very human and stupid, exactly as a fifteen year old girl should be. School shooting obv. Also, it's ve-e-ery long, but I'm really not in the mood of writing a book here, so, it's just bullet points. Sorry.

author's note: yes! I watched We need to talk about Kevin around 2014, actually. It seems, considering the nature of this whole blog, I've always had the hots for the worst kind of guys. Enjoy my sublimation!

it was so long I had to divide it into two parts. second part

• you're at the same school, and Kevin is closed, brooding and completely antisocial. You constantly see him smile when there's a fight. He never participates in scuffles but seems to observe people; the other half of the time, he just doesn't care about his surrounding at all. Seemingly

• you've been raised to sympathize with the outcasts, reading all the right books and youself, not being the most popular, the smartest or the most beautiful

• at the biology class, you flat out refuse to dissect a frog. You can't stand the sight of dead animals, to say nothing about cutting them with a freaking knife. You close your eyes and shake your head aggressively, while the teacher is getting angry with your childish stubborness

• until you feel that someone is standing next to you. Kevin says 'she doesn't want to cut the frog' assertively, and takes it to his desk. He doesn't look at you a second, but it feels like a momentary salvation

• you're thinking of thanking him; that seems like a nice thing considering he's never talking to people, and always having lunch alone. He has this loner allure, the misunderstood poet, the lone wolf, if you will. You're fifteen.

• your friends tell you 'are you nuts? he's the cat in the bag'

• there are all kinds of rumors about Kevin; about strangling someone as a joke, and swearing, and watching gore.

• "I didn't do it for you", he smiles, like it's the most obvious thing in the world, and you misunderstood the incident so badly that it's funny and totally makes you look like an idiot. "I just like to dissect frogs". But he looks at you so intensely that it tells you something more.

• he never goes to PE

• Kevin is bullied from time to time; he doesn't really react to it, like the other children don't even exist. He never replies to nasty remarks, but just watches them, head tilted forward, like a dog ready to bite.

• you wonder why nobody else is worried about this gaze.

• sometimes you catch him watching you during classes as if he's contemplating something. You think yourself some kind of sacred redeemer, not less. You don't look away, you don't realize you're getting yourself into a swamp. You're fifteen

• at one occasion you tell Kevin he doesn't need to be alone all the time, and there are nice people at school who would accept him

• he just grins at everything you say

• the same guy who bullies Kevin the most acrtively, or is trying to, steals your folder containing some notes, your journal and you photo album. He doesn't admit it but laughs in a way that makes it clear

• you go to the teacher, to the principal, but the conversations do nothing to that guy. He's just a bully, just a dumb jock who has very little thought behind his forehead. You're worried; he might not know, but your personal diary is in that folder.

• you confront him with the fists swaying, to no avail

• the next morning, Kevin walks by your desk and throws the folder, complete with everything, in front of you. You watch his back, wondering when he had got it, and whether he had read your diary. One of the entires was about him, and it was embarrassing.

• "he's tall; taller than the other boys. His face is like milk, but he has this pitch-black hair and vampire stare thing going on. He is always quiet, just watches people. He's reeeeeally good-looking, but damn, Khatchadourian might just be nuts like people say"

• your friends wisely advise you not to get involved with him, but you feel so special all of a sudden

• you start fantasizing about being the only girl at school who managed to get through to him

• as you talk, he notices your desire to be special, and uses it. He observes you with your friends, focuses his laser attention on your grades, tries to get into what makes up your world.

• soon, he manages to make you feel like you really are the one person he reacts to. It is incredibly funny to him. He deems you fuckable.

• he's attacking someone in the yard. The guys from the parallel were getting the best out of Kevin, and rightfully so. This time he's had enough. When it's just talking, he didn't care, but physical assault, he couldn't tolerate, because that was crossing his personal borders. So, when one of the boys tried to steal his backpack, Kevin took out a razor he carried with him

• you try to stop the fight and get in between them just in time to shield the other boy, and Kevin slices your arm across

• the boys run away horrified, and Kevin just stands there, disappointed and dark.

• he evaluates the situation, sees that the cut is pretty deep, and watches the gushes of blood leaving your arm. The first seconds you're silent with shock; then it dies down, and you start feeling pain and yelp.

• he cuts off a piece of his shirt and bandages your arm tightly, saying nothing, just lasers you with his glance. The sight of this wound on you, not unlike his own scar, even in the same spot, accidentally. He finds it curious, invigorating. He watches the expression of physical pain on your face and brings you to the medic's office, saying "I sliced her". It feels good to say that.

• there's a conversation at the principal office. You're quiet, he's almost pleased with himself. His excuse is, I was going for another person ¯_(ツ)_/¯

• he gets away with it. You notice his dad dotes on him, and is absolutely blind to anything Kevin does. He buys the legend of 'I brought it for biology class, because I'm used to working with my own instruments' so easily it's astonishing.

• you don't speak for a while, and Kevin doesn't say sorry. He doesn't look guilty and is equally unimpressed that other students start to avoid him even more

• but his presence is like an oil stain, you can't avoid looking. You want to get to the bottom of him, you actively put yourself in this situation. You're fifteen, edgy, you have a crush on the sexy strange bad guy.

• you catch him after classes and tell him, whatever you're feeling, you don't have to. There are good people, that are worthy of your time. You don't mean yourself, but you're trying to make him defrost a little

• for some reason, the topic of feelings triggers him, and he does the thing he would repeat several times. He gets angry, standing right in your face, hovering over with his height. He puts his face as close as possible to yours and tries to make you pee yourself.

• "how the fuck would you know how I feel? What do you know about how I feel? Tell me, how can a person like you know anything about me?"

• he doesn't apologize for slicing you because he knows he didn't mean it, hense, there's no reason to say sorry. But he sees the prospect of playing with you, and he's so bored. So, he thinks about what a normal person would do in his place. ?

• once, you go to your locker and inside, find a little bunch of field flowers, neatly tied together with a yellow thread. No note, but somehow you have ideas what it means.

• you go on to a party in one of your classmates' house. You still rock a tight bandage on your arm. The party is good. You see Kevin and he looks at you like he wants to talk. You think, this is just like one of those vampire stories. You evade your watchful friends who think you dumb for playing a heroine from the Vampire Diaries. You need to grow up, they say

• you go outside in the terrace and sit down. You drink and ask why Kevin isn't drinking

• "I never drink. It dulls the concentration"

• you tell him that what he said sounds like 'I'm not like all of you idiots'. He confirms that's the gist of most of what he says. You ask if he considers you dumb, too. Biting his tongue, he avoids replying, saying that you're 'nice'

• you keep drinking, feeling the need to master up some bravery in his presence. For what, you don't know. Finally you ask him about how he feels, since he got so angry when you assumed

• surprisingly, Kevin says,

• "angry, bored most of the time. I guess it makes me angry how boring everything is. And dumb. Sitting there at school for six hours every day to do what exactly? It's like torture"

• it's a good thing he found a toy to play with.

• he tells you about his mother, and how she broke his arm when he was little, for shitting himself, on purpose. You talk about mums, and fathers, and how you don't have a very good relationship with your parents. Kevin finds it very interesting. You tell him how your mum mostly ignores your existence because she's more preoccupied with the shattering marriage with your dad, and your dad, finds you annoying and 'too girly'. He tells you about his little sister who is so annoying, and she constantly jumps around him and nags on him. You try to explain that a little girl sees that her brother is big, and strong, and pretty, and is forming a bond. He gives one of the worst performances, but it grills you

• "Pretty?" with a suggesting smile.

• you kiss, mostly because you're drunk, and you both think about each other's background.

• you think how tragic it is, that a boy like Kevin doesn't get the love from the person a child needs the most. Think about his mum, imagine her looking at baby Kevin with hatred and disgust. No wonder he is growing up to be this unapologetic, menacing, edgy guy who brings razor to school and takes it out on others.

• you're partially wrong

• Kevin thinks about how you have daddy issues and feel unloved, unneeded, mediocre

• although everybody at school knows that Kevin Khatchadourian had cut your arm in a violent fashion, the literature teacher pairs you for a half-year assignment. You're supposed to prepare a one-hundred pages analysis of the book of your choice, complete with the presentation.

• you're actually down to such tasks as you can ramble about your favorite books for ages, but you're not sure how it'll work out with Kevin. Casual friendship, if you can call it that, is strange and non-regular; sometimes he ignores you completely in the corridors, sometimes he starts talking about history, and awful things like Unit 731, out of nowhere.

• the first time you assembled to work on the paper was at the library, and it was pretty uneventuful; even boring a little. Kevin was not in the mood, and didn't talk much, and then, after an hour and a half said he was bored, and just left.

• you remembered the kiss from the party, but Kevin acted like nothing happened. Every time, though, when you almost decided he had played you, it was like he read your thoughts, and appeared to reinforce hope in you.

• he suggested you should go to his house at the weekend, and spend the day working on the paper. His family will be away as they usually do, so

• a gut feeling told you not to go, and you really listened to it, refusing the offer. Kevin smiled with his special smile that was like blood and honey, that was very difficult to resist

• "you think I'll do something awful to you?" "Will you?"

• he had a habit of speaking more with his eyes than with his mouth. One of the reasons you were so drawn to him was, he seemed adult, on the inside. Sometimes he said things you didn't expect to hear from a fifteen-year old.

• "Only if you ask".

• you skipped this weekend, and Kevin refused to go to the library, saying he had some things to do after school. But you were free to work on the project alone, of course.

• after a week more you caved in and agreed to go to his place. The whole week he was being uncharacteristically neat, friendly and pleasant. You saw him smile at teachers and even say hi to someone from class. You wondered if he had other friends you didn't know about.

• Kevin had a massive, cool home. Both his parents were rich, but you wouldn't tell it by looking at him act. You were amazed at the interior: artsy, light, with interesting living room and shapes on the walls. Kevin was bored, unimpressed by your interest. He was slacking, stretching time not to get to work that was clearly dull to him; he showed you the bathroom, and his parents bedroom (which made you uncomfortable). As he went downstairs to make tea that he almost forced you to have, you washed your hands in the bathroom on the second floor. Going down towards the stairs, you passed his room with the door open. A song you liked very much played on his computer. You wondered.

• on the wall, you saw the picture of the family. Kevin was smiling like the happiest boy ever, and it looked like a person from another world. His parents, blonde and dark-haired, were so different. The dad, whom Kevin described as 'the dumbest creature I've met', smiled carelessly, totally satisfied with the day. His mom, on the other hand, looked exhausted. The deep dark eyes, like Kevin's, didn't have half of demonic suggestion in them, but she looked weary. She smiled like a person who was wise, and had a death wish. His little sister 'that perfect little princess who never does anything wrong', whom Kevin clearly had very mixed feelings about, had only one eye.

• while having tea in the kitchen, you asked him about his sister.

• "Oh, yeah, it happened a while ago. She poured solvent into her own eye. Mum left the bottle on the table in the open". "Why would she do that?" you were horrified, painting a picture in your head. "Well, kids are dumb", he said so nonchalantly that it sent shivers down your spine. You could understand not liking a younger, more adored sibling, but talking about how they got a disability in such an unaffected way...

• Kevin added "I was there, with her. I called the ambulance. It was go-o-ory". And he smiled.

• you had the intention of working in the living room - light, spacious, with a broad sofa and a huge coffee table. Kevin insisted that he needed to work on his laptop and it was uncomfortable to bend over the little table. You needed to go to his bedroom. Eventually, you agreed, so now, you were sitting elbow to elbow at his desk, so close that you could feel the warmth of his body.

• the first thing you noticed about his room was how minimalistic and boring it was. Nothing on the walls, clean, tidy, impersonal. The only thing on display was a wooden bow, placed against the wall, and a stack of red-feathered arrows, beautiful, hanging above.

• "Wow, do you do archery?" He was unphased, like it was a totally usual hobby. "Yeah". Whatever tickles the rich people's bum, you thought.

• Fifteen minutes into project your phone lit up. Kevin asked who's messaging you and you said it was your common classmate, Paul, who is your good friend. Kevin knew your - your common - surrounding, so he knew that Paul was a good guy, and a good friend, and also had an innocent teenage crush on you.

• "Let me see", he grabbed the phone from your hand and stretched out his arm so that you wouldn't reach. It turned into a game. You both laughed, and giggled, as you tried to get to your phone. It was half-serious, playful 'hey, don't be a jerk!' and him, watching you reach for the phone helplessly. He then threw it on his bed and, as you raced after it, gave you a little push, and you fell.

• Kevin managed to create that feeling of comfort. As he landed next to you on his bed, he pretended not to see your unease. "Come on, let me see. You know I'm nosy". You sighed, deciding that there was nothing incriminating in messages between two friends. After all, there was nothing but memes and schedule discussion in your chat. Kevin scrolled it, giggling, discussing other classmates, and soon, you were snuggled against each other, talking about everything. You showed him your gallery on the phone and he grilled you for the insane amount of pictures of Damon Salvatore.

• "Come on. Come on now, you know they manufacture those dreamy characters specifically with the accordance to the desirable image for teenage girls. They cater specifically to you, and you buy it".

• "I know! But you haven't watched it".

• A long silence with growing smiles on both sides decided the destiny of that evening. You watched the show together, bonding, discussing, talking about how stupid everything is, and how the vampiric lore cannot possibly be depicted perfectly in any movie you've seen.

• he felt so normal, so human, so warm, that you were drunk on love. You felt safe, entertained, enfatuated. You thought to yourself that maybe, this whole thing about Kevin being different, and dangerous, was a front. After all, he had to protect himself, he hadn't gotten any love at home, and he didn't really know how to act around people. You felt appreciated, understood, wholesome.

• it was already dark when you've finished watching the sixth episode, and you were both a little sleepy. As the episode was over, the screen got darker, and you realized that there was barely any light. Kevin was silent beside you; you heard him breathe calmly, but you could tell he's looking at you. Like a snake aiming for your throat and waiting for the right moment.

• as you were about to say something to discharge the situation, your phone rang. It was your mum, checking on you, and you confessed you hadn't gone through with the paper at all. You explained how boring it was, and that the whole day, you drank tea, or talked, or watched the show. She laughed at it and told you not to stay the night. Maybe she did love you after all.

• "My mum", you explained, as the light from the phone died out, as well. "She's worried about you?" "Just checking". "Checking what?" You didn't find what to say here. "Doesn't your mum check on you when you're late and not home?" "No. Usually, I'm the threat".

• somehow, you were kissing. It felt exhilarating. Scary, amazing and fast. You didn't notice how twenty minutes have gone buy, completely taken by the intensity of it. I'm in his bed, you thought, and he's kissing me. The prettiest boy in school, and the most interesting. The rest were boring, you thought, and realized, this thing you had in common. You thought majority of people, even some of your friends, boring. Kevin was the only one who made you look.

• as he went for your thighs, you shivered. "I'm not ready". "Ready for what?" he asked, jokingly. Constantly dismissing your words, as if he always wanted you to speak clearly and not mumble behind the metaphors. "I'm scared, I'm a virgin". Kevin gave you a long look. "Who hurt you?" he immediately assumed there was some dark reason for your fright. Reality was, "Nobody. I'm fifteen, I'm afraid".

• you made him promise he won't force you to anything. Even the fact that you had to make him give you his word should've been a sign. Kissing him, and making out, was the best thing that happened to you the whole year though.

• Paul was strangely cold, even rude to you the last days. Every time you tried to bring up something funny to him, he dismissed you and made himself scarce almost instantly. You could feel, although Kevin didn't openly follow you, that he watched you, like before. Sometimes you had the urge to ask him the banal 'what are we?'

• you approached him in between classes to ask what he's done to Paul.

• he wouldn't tell you 'I confronted him in the bathroom and put my razor right to his throat, making him understand who you belong to; I pushed it so hard it actually left a mark on his Adam's apple. Must have hurt. He looked like a scared puppy. I told him not to text you anymore and not to look in your direction. He ran so fast you could tell he would be a great cast for the Flash'

• he said, "Oh, I spoke to him. You were clearly annoyed by his advances, or was I wrong?" You were annoyed when you talked about it at his place. You lamented your friendship and said you found it irritateing that every guy you were actively friends with, started to fall for you.

• you didn't believe he just 'spoke' to him. You tried to call for the good in him again, but when it didn't work, decided to threat.

• "Don't do the things you'll regret later, Kevin". You tried to walk away, but he put himself between you and the whole world, hovering again, his face as close as possible. His eyes, the eyes of a snake, cold, black, menacing, asked you.

• "What things?" "You know what I'm talking about". "No, I don't. Say it". He dared you. You wanted to say 'violent things'. You remembered his face, full of cold rage, as he swung the razor at that guy in the yard. You looked at his face now, changed from the peaceful everyday mask he always wore, and suddenly it hit you. He was psychopathic. There was no other way he would be so unaffected by things, then jumping into sudden fury, then pleasant and sociable the next moment. He could stand like this for hours, it seemed, burning you down with his trying stare as if he was forcing you to show what you're worth.

• your friend broke this intense exchange by exclaiming, "wow. Get a room?" her voice was casually laughing, like, ha-ha, I'm mocking a PDA. But when you looked at her, her face was expressing concern. Her eyes didn't laugh and were fixed on you. Kevin slowly focused on her with a slight smile and then walked away, saying nothing.

• he stalked you, although you didn't know about it. Listened to your conversations, hiding in the bathroom, and stole your phone for a lesson, and then returned it into your tote bag, making you think you're absent-minded. You were entertainment to him, a goal to reach, with no prizes. He was deciding what to do with you after, in spring.

• the other weekend that you spent working on paper, the Khatchadourian house was full. The previous one, his mum and his sister were away in the countryside, and his dad worked. Now the whole family was at home, and Kevin wasn't really happy.

• his mom was excessively happy to see you, shaking your hand, and giving you a motherly hug. You read in her face that she was glad that her son was socialising.

• his dad was a big booming guy with the lumberjack energy.

• his little sister was a little angel: silky pearl hair, nice little face, only one eye. She was airy, happy, unspoiled. She was everything Kevin wasn't. He stood at the top of the stairs as his stunningly normal family swarmed you. His sister was looking at you curiously, considering the new concept: his brother's friend. She has never encountered that before. You took her little hand and something horrible stung your temples, almost like a vision. Kevin smiling with his absent, self-pleasing smile as she was on the kitchen floor, her eye bubbling, sizzling, blood and goo coming out.

• Kevin lost his patience and ran downstairs, took your hand and led you away from them, giving his mum a certain look. He refused to be served lemonade, and snacks, he just wanted to be left alone with you.

• as you entered the room, he locked the door, and you started making out immediately. The thought of his parents at home made him almost blind with excitement.

• you collapsed on the bed, kissing, rubbing against each other, panting. You were very wet, for the first time in your life for a real person. It was exalting, to desire something so much and get it immediately, to be desired back.

• he caresses the scar on your arm and kisses it. You take it as his way to finally say sorry.

• you don't know that he's never felt sorry, for anything, in his life. That he's calculating, cold, that he is only happy when it's physical satisfaction because all other is imitation. He's like a robot and he feels like a robot. To try to feel something, he used to watch the hardest porn he could find, the trashiest, goriest movies, he watched the nsfw news where the pieces of humans, chunks of meat and bones, were shown; he went to the dark web and watched snuff, and it made him feel nothing. The closest to happiness he felt when he was mildly entertained or cumming; and you were entertaining, for all the possible things he could do to you; and you almost let him cum.

• but you weren't ready for sex yet and, remembering the word he had given to you, he backed up. Building the tension was good for the eventual climax, and he would break you, he knew that, by the way you whimpered when he rubbed against you and kissed your neck.

• you finally had sex at the party once. Closer to spring, when the spirits were lifted. You snuck away from your friends who have half-way accepted that you were spending time with Kevin. You went upstairs and locked yourselves in someone's bedroom; you had been drinking for bravery because you knew what was coming. You wanted it, but you didn't know what to expect; maybe Kevin had a dragon in his pants for all you knew.

• he wasn't soft, but he was cutting the pain short. He made you feel hurt and kissed you tenderly the next second not to let you retaliate. At first, you just had to whitstand the pain, thinking it was normal. That's how it happens for the first time: the feeling of something tearing, and blood, and razor sharp pain. You were very aroused and very drunk, so even the pain ceased soon, and it was actually almost good.

• you went to the bathroom to clean yourself and cried, you didn't know why. Not like you now were a different person. You emerged, talking about the sad state of your makeup, and the room was empty.

• Kevin was downstairs chatting with a girl you didn't know, and when you tugged on his sleeve, he gave you a blind look, like he was seeing you for the first time. He was done with you, the look said. He didn't even smile anymore; he just looked tired, like you intervened in a mildly entertaining experience.

• for the rest of the month you were crushed. You didn't talk about it with friends: in fact, you lied to them that you had an argument with Kevin and never had sex. You were so ashamed to be a victim of such a simple, banal, everyday scam. You were now seeing him for what he was. Just a guy with the looks who was bored.

• you completely forgot about the project, it just came to a halt by itself

• you started alienating yourself from your friends, which wasn't too hard

• you started having lunch alone, and going to classes alone, too.

• you spent a lot of time thinking about the damn dress you wore at a party, as if it was the root of all evil that happened

• you were wallowing in the feeling of betrayal, the impotent desire to crash his face with a hammer. You were brokenhearted, being dragged down from the heavens of being special right to the pits of being played.

• after weeks of mourning your naivity, and your pure feelings for him, your past wish to awaken something good in Kevin, you felt so idiotic, perhaps even more idiotic than the stupidest person in this school. You were a laughing stock for your own self. Your pride was crushed, and your heart was broken.

• eventually you thought, well, it's schooltime. A lot of girls experience this. Maybe in fifteen years' time it will all seem like a minor failure and a useful lesson.

• right? In fifteen years?

• in the beginning of May, Kevin suddenly sat at your table at the closing of lunch. After weeks of literally no communication, dismissive, slightly surprised glances when you happened to be in his eye sight spot, he suddenly reappeared.

• "You didn't tell your friends even? Will you let me get away with it after all?"

• you looked at his face drawn with curiosity and laughter. He was laughing at you. His boyish, demonic beauty was now poisoned with the ugliness of his insides. Earlier, he was like a rare animal from the northern mountains, that was so evasive it seemed like treasure. He was mysterious, impeccable. Too good for you. Now, it was the handsomness of a used mannequin, with the paint faded. Too much blood in the smile.

• "What do you want, Kevin?"

• it's been moments after a short exchange that you felt rage in you. The rage you've been fostering this whole month. You stood up from the table and swung your arm with enthusiasm, and then landed your closed fist on his cheekbone.

• Kevin's reaction was slow, horrifying. In his eyes, you saw the immediate danger to your whole life. He didn't say anything as he rose from the chair, and you noticed his eyes scanning the yard. What if someone witnessed the punch?

• you tried to hit him again, on the shoulder, but he caught your hand, and suddenly, crushing pain sliced through your wrist. He was much stronger than you.

• this time, he approached you so decisively that for a second your only instinct was to fly, but your hand was caught up in his fist. Really, you got scared of him.

• "Never do that again", he said, as his hand took you by the back of your neck. He tilted your head back to look straight into your face, and all the possible trauma made you see the allure again. Yes, he was still laughably attractive, without even trying. He was just a walking trap, and all of your good intentions for him had just been horny.

• "Or I will snap your neck and forget about you in a second".

• the punch was good; a scarlett spot was forming on the side of his face. You were afraid to move because you could feel your wrist on the point of breaking. Such sharp pain, the third time in nine months, and the source of it, again, was Kevin.

• "Say you're sorry"

• "I'm sorry", you whimpered, "that you're such a monster who's unable to love, Kevin".

• you got ready to deal with the broken wrist and closed your eyes, expecting anything. He let go of you. "Love is a big word for you".

• you didn't know how jealous he was of Damon Salvatore.

• as the school year was drawing to an end, the school team started rehearsing

• the rehearsals were always fun; although you never even thought of getting into the cheerleaders, and you had exactly the amount of interest in basketball to understand what's going on.

• it was fun because the team consisted of all the people you knew; there was a lot of students you had good relationship with; the cheerleaders were all very easy going girls, and beautiful, at that. It wasn't like in the Mean Girls.

• and the spectators always brought pizza, or some snacks, to entertain themselves during the long, repetitive rehearsals. You liked to visit them because it was better than hanging out at home with your dysfunctional family.

• the last rehearsals were held in the evening of the 8th of April.

• as you sat there, you vaguely remembered, randomly, that it was to be Kevin's birthday soon; maybe in a week, or less. You pretended not to care, pretended to yourself.

• closer to the end of rehearsal, as people started leaving, your best friend, the one who was concerned about Kevin and even put herself in the position between you, said that her boyfriend had messaged her. She had to leave. You said goodbye and decided to wait for the end. Looking at the girls was mesmerizing; the way they did the combinations and screamed the chants. You thought it was very cool to be a cheerleader; but you weren't tall, or nimble, or beautiful enough.

• the main door was locked from the outside; probably the strings have gone bad again, and the entrance has been deemed a no go. So, your friend circled around the hall a little, tugging the doors with surprise. Finally, she found one working exit and left. As she was leaving, Khatchadourian walked into her, or rather, they ran into each other.

• "Leaving already?" he asked, with a smile. She said nothing and walked away.

• Kevin locked the door behind her. She turned around, puzzled, because her brain hadn't registered at once that Kevin was carrying a stack of arrows with him.

• As he started shooting his classmates, the swarm of people was lifted up, like an avalanche, and started making it for the entrance. The doors were locked. He repositioned, climbing up the spectator's rows, and finally had the perfect spot. From above, in the bunch of people, he saw you.

• you wondered, as all the noise left your brain, and the pale circles started pulsating in your eyes, why you didn't know earlier.

• in the moments he was swinging for someone's throat, or when he was threatening you, or when his face dropped the smile by the snap of the fingers. How do you even foresee something like that?

• you watched his face, a grimace of hatred, not indifferent anymore. He was aiming with his bare teeth, wallowing in every cry of the people he shot; the sound of arrows was almost comforting, whistling around like a seagull that passes over you quietly. Among the roar of the hall, the sound of arrows was so calming and so loud.

• you tried to group yourself, to make yourself smaller, because there were actually very few people left; seven or nine, in fact. But there was nowhere to run. Macey Walken, who ran for the side entrance, got a scarlet arrow into her back, and fell suddenly as if something pulled her. You looked at the floor, into a pool of someone's blood. Kevin was walking down carefully, between the seats, sending the arrows with accurate aim. He didn't even look like a human anymore; it was hard to describe him.

• he neutralized the three teachers first, then went for the students. Paul died in the other side of the hall in his purple and gold uniform. The cheerleader girls were running in circles, in zigzags, clearly entertaining him, moving targets. Kevin now almost approached the last group of five people, where you sat on the floor, numb with scream that never left your mouth, your legs paralyzed completely. He was killing you all one by one, from left to right. Ben, Mary, Meredith. Finally, the bow and arrow were turned towards you, mechanically.

• Kevin pulled the string and then relaxed it, keeping the arrow to himself, and moved on.

• you did manage to become the special girl after all.

#ezra miller imagine #we need to talk about kevin #kevin khatchadourian #kevin khatchadourian imagine

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chansfavouritechild · 3 months

Text

straykids 9th member

Word count: 1,107K

pairing: skz x 9th member f!reader

warnings:mention of sickness,physical illness, stress, overwork, overthinking

Genre: fluff (+angst)

🎬Summary: Sarang, a versatile idol, navigates her career, creatively supports friends, and strives for perfection despite sleep deprivation and the fear of disappointing others.

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Too much work

Sarang had a bunch of friends and was good at more than just singing and dancing. She was always busy designing cool outfits for events, making album covers, and helping out with photo shoots. She was a creative wizard, whether it was clothes, makeup, hair, or even coming up with ideas for photoshoot backgrounds.

Being an idol was a ton of work - sports, dance practices, and endless emails. Even with her crazy schedule, Sarang couldn't say no when her friends asked for help. She knew she should sometimes, but she didn't want to let anyone down.

One night, she was chilling on the couch between Felix and Bangchan. While the guys chatted away, Sarang was in her own world, drawing an outfit for Yeonjun on her iPad.

Felix got curious and jumped up to check it out. He was fixated on her iPad, watching as she brought Yeonjun's outfit to life. Sarang greeted him with an "Oh, Felix," realizing he had been standing behind her the whole time. After a quick explanation, Felix gave a nod and went back to his seat.

Felix, still in his seat, was amazed by Sarang's art. Watching her, he felt a warm fuzzy feeling in his stomach. He didn't want to disturb her creative flow with small talk but couldn't help but notice how kind she was and how she always went above and beyond for her friends. It felt a bit silly, but he couldn't deny he was kinda attracted to her creative side.

As the night went on, Sarang was struggling to stay awake. Running on no sleep, she convinced herself that coffee and protein bars would keep her going. She was super hard on herself, always trying to prove herself and avoid letting people down. In the middle of all this, she got a call from her friend Jay about a special event, and he trusted Sarang to come up with a killer design.

Felix, seeing how tired she was, got genuinely worried. He watched as she sipped coffee and munched on protein bars. Despite the lack of sleep, she still looked amazing. Felix felt a mix of admiration and concern for the way she pushed herself so hard. He just wanted to be there to comfort her, help her ease the stress.

Felix glanced away, still feeling a bit worried. Bangchan, sitting next to him, noticed Felix staring at Sarang. He raised an eyebrow, wondering why Felix was so focused on her. Bangchan nudged Felix, a small grin on his face. Felix, feeling caught, blushed and turned away. Bangchan chuckled at the reaction.

Bangchan looked at Sarang a bit longer, noticing how tired she seemed after putting so much effort into Yeonjun's outfit. He was surprised she was still planning to work on another event. She was just too kind for her own good. Bangchan was worried, hating to see her push herself so much. He glanced at the others before turning back to Sarang.

As Sarang got deeper into her creative zone, exhaustion started hitting hard. Coffee and protein bars weren't cutting it, but she couldn't shake the idea of taking a break - it felt like a waste of time.

Watching her struggle with heavy eyelids and yawns, Bangchan couldn't ignore the signs that she desperately needed sleep. Yet, she kept pushing for the sake of others. The idea of seeing her suffer just to make others happy didn't sit right with him. Bangchan thought about speaking up but decided to keep it warm, making occasional eye contact and offering a reassuring smile.

Despite the eye contact, Sarang's vision blurred, and the world spun around her. Shapes and colors overwhelmed her senses. Bangchan silently observed, concern growing as he saw her exhaustion taking a toll on her.

The eye contact continued until he saw her eyes roll back, and Sarang collapsed. Bangchan's eyes widened in shock, and he rushed to catch her. Frustration turned into deep concern as he checked her pulse to make sure she was okay.

In addition to worrying about her, Bangchan felt a wave of guilt washing over him. He was mad at himself for not stopping her sooner. Gently placing her on the couch, Bangchan kept a close eye on her, arranging her into a more comfortable position.

Sarang lay unconscious on the couch, the room filled with a heavy silence as the members of Stray Kids gathered around. Bangchan's face showed shock and deep concern, regretting not intervening sooner.

Felix, who had been keeping a close watch, rushed to her side with worry in his eyes. The atmosphere in the room turned tense as the others exchanged concerned looks. Bangchan, realizing the seriousness of the situation, took charge.

"Grab some water," he said, his voice firm yet filled with concern. Han and Seungmin hurried to the kitchen to get water. Felix, still by Sarang's side, gently brushed a strand of hair from her face.

As the others rushed to help, Bangchan couldn't shake off the guilt. He knew he should have spoken up earlier, insisted that Sarang take a break. But dwelling on the past wouldn't help now.

When the water arrived, Bangchan took it and dampened a cloth. Carefully dabbing Sarang's forehead, he hoped to bring her back. The room was tense with concern and guilt, but Bangchan tried to keep it together for Sarang and the others.

Slowly, Sarang began to stir. Her eyelids fluttered, and she groggily looked around. Felix's worry turned into relief, but Bangchan still couldn't shake off the guilt in his gaze.

"You scared us," Felix said softly, his hand still gently on Sarang's shoulder.

Sarang blinked, trying to focus on the faces around her. Bangchan sighed, a mix of relief and remorse in his voice. "You need to take better care of yourself, Sarang. We appreciate your dedication, but we can't have you pushing yourself to the point of collapsing."

Sarang managed a weak smile, feeling the warmth of the members' concern. Bangchan's stern expression softened, his worry turning into genuine care.

"Let us help you," he continued, his tone gentle yet firm. "You're not alone in this. We're a team, and we look out for each other."

The incident became a turning point for Sarang. She learned to balance her love for creativity with self-care, realizing that her well-being was just as important as her dedication to her craft. The members of Stray Kids became a strong support system, reminding her that she didn't have to carry the weight alone.

And that's the story - do what you love, take breaks, and don't worry about what others think. You're worth a break. <3

#straykids #ot8 x reader #9th member of skz #skz ot8 #9th member of stray kids #9th member #stray kids #bang chan #felix

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itsgxsly · 1 year

Text

SPOTLIGHT

Summary: lando and you share a nice moment during a photo shoot for Quadrant

Pairing: lando norris x reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 630

You weren't a professional model and generally you weren't much of a fan of cameras or being the spotlight of something, but when Lando asked you to model with him for the photos of the new merch with those puppies you couldn't resist de Quadrant, you had to say yes.

At first you hesitated a couple of times, thinking that something would go wrong or that you wouldn't like the photos. But now, while you were with Lando and some other members of the team doing the session, you had to admit that it was all your paranoia, because in reality you were feeling very comfortable with the whole situation. You also had to give your boyfriend credit for it, that since you had started taking the photos a while ago, he had not stopped making you laugh with silly jokes or making funny faces while you posed for the camera. You had scolded him a few times, but finally you had ended up laughing with him.

“Well y/n, your photos have turned out very well, even with the small inconvenience involved” said the girl who was taking the photos, looking at Lando when she mentioned the supposed inconvenience. Your boyfriend pretended not to realize that she was talking about him and when the girl moved away a bit to continue working, he approached you.

“You know, you should go into professional modeling. You are very good at it” he told you as he hugged you around the waist. You wrapped your arms around his neck before answering him.

"Hmm, I don't see it. I think I prefer to continue with my normal life. I'm going to leave to you all the fame and fans” you told him. You loved that Lando could enjoy his work and his fans didn't bother you, usually most of them loved your relationship with him.

Lando went to speak again, but the photographer's voice cut him off before he could do anything.

“Hey guys. Would you like if we took some photos with the two together? I am sure that people will love to see you together wearing the merch” she proposed the idea to you. You and Lando looked at each other, still holding on to the position you were in before, and you both nodded in agreement.

The photographer didn't give you many indications of how she wanted you to position yourself and such, she just told you to act natural, as you would normally be without a camera in front of you. It took you a while not to think about it, but when Lando started joking again and giving you gentle caresses here and there, you were completely distracted from everything, your attention now focused only on him. Lando took advantage of the fact that you were looking at him and gently grabbed your waist, bringing you closer to him and leaving a short but soft kiss on your lips.

"From today you are going to be my model for all the merch I make" Lando said.

"We'll see. I still don't like cameras” even though you had a good time, you weren't sure you wanted to make it a routine.

"Well, get used to it, baby. You're too pretty not to show it to the whole world”

The two of you lost in your world hadn't even noticed that they had finished taking your photos, but you would already realize it. Right now you were more focused on each other.

It should be said that when the photos were published a few days later, the fans went crazy with how adorable you were together and demanded to see you more times in the Quadrant post. Maybe Lando was right and you had to start getting used to it.

#formula 1 #lando norris #lando #norris #ln4 #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x oc #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris blurb #lando norris fluff #request #f1 fandom #f1 2022 #f1 2023 #quadrant

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vctrvn-ls · 8 months

Text

I love you too? |Kenny|

summary: you and Kenny get into a heated argument after which you try and take the first step to make peace

warnings: angst, language

wordcount: 1.35k

"What the fuck is this?!" You heard Kenny call out from the living room.

"What!?" You shouted back, not thinking much of it, continuing to cut the watermelon for the fruit salad you were making. A series of footsteps quickly revealed Kenny who was glued to his phone with furrowed eyebrows.

"What?" You take a piece of watermelon and put it in your mouth "What is it?" You chew.

Kenny walks up to you shoving his phone up close to your face. You squint trying to see the image in front of you. It was you from yesterdays shoot, kissing Filly on the cheek as he smiled into the camera. Your eyes widened as you looked up at Kenny "And?"

"You- Look- Ah fuck," he goes back to his phone for a second before showing it again "Look at the caption."

You saw it was Twitter. Already not a good sign. And as you predicted, your mouth fell open as you finished reading the sentence:

"Damn. That's what happens when Kenny's not on the one shoot."

You look back up at Kenny and raise an eyebrow "What the hell are you doing listening to dumbass Twitter-people?" You go back to cutting the fruits, seeing as this wasn't a thing to worry about.

"This isn't the only one. That's firstly. Secondly there's rumors now that we're broken up and thirdly what the hell are you doing going around kissing other guys when you have a boyfriend?"

You were in so much shock that you had to put down your knife and lean on the counter, processing what the fuck had just been said to you.

"Fuck. You." You simply state. "That's to begin with. Also what the fuck Kenny!? It wasn't guys it was one and it's fucking Filly, now please for Christ sake tell me you're pranking me right now because you are not going to stand here and pretend like you're bothered by this." You look at him, trying to read him and his emotions, although it was quite clear that he was in fact mad.

"Yeah well they don't know that it's just Filly. And just because it's Filly, gives you no right to get all up in his face."

"Kenny you need to take a break." You chuckle dryly turning back to the cutting board.

"No the hell I don't," he pushes your shoulder, turning you around to face him.

"It's a few comments Kenny, for fucks sake just leave it alone!"

"Oh yeah? You know what else started as 'a few comments'? Hm? Our secret relationship."

You roll your eyes "We were going to reveal it anyways right?"

"I don't care."

"Ok? What am I supposed to do?"

"Definitely don't do THAT!" He held up his phone with the photo.

You cover your face with the palms of your hands and groan, still stunned that this was actually happening "Kenny its fucking Filly! You look so dumb right now I wish you knew!"

"I KNOW I LOOK DUMB! I LOOK DUMBER NOW!" He lashed out, voice booming through the whole house "It's all anyone fucking talks about. Oh Kenny's stupid. No one likes Kenny. Why is Kenny even here? Let's make an article about how everyone in the Squad hates Kenny." He mocked the comments from the internet. "Now fucking this? I just- I'm gonna- Ah fuck." He turns around and just leaves. This guy leaves! You hear him stomp up the stairs and slam your bedroom door, leaving you speechless.

You blink a few times still digesting the very emotional information that was thrown at you and decide to take a seat in the living room. You wanted to be mad, you really did, but there was just this one thing that really caught your attention. It was how focused he was on the internet's opinion, which with the jobs both of you had was a little alarming.

After a little more thinking you came to a conclusion that insecurity was what drove this whole thing in the first place. Understandable, you didn't blame him, but it was sad because how can such a special and amazing person be insecure?

It sounded absurd!

Especially with his talent, friends and status.

You felt bad for Kenny, and you could totally relate to his lack of confidence because everyone feels unsteady from time to time and with enough love and words it could easily be beaten.

As much as you wanted to go up to him and provide the comfort he so definitely needed, you couldn't stop feeling hurt by some of his words. You sigh throwing your head back against the couch.

"Fuck." You whisper, feeling the two halves of you battling inside.

You hated fighting.

It was so stressful and unnecessary, and that's exactly why you decided that you needed to go talk to Kenny. You finished cutting all the fruits, laid some out on a bowl, got a spoon and headed upstairs to Kenny.

As you got closer to the bedroom door you felt your stomach twisting into a knot. What if he tells you to fuck off? What if he doesn't want to see you at all after this? What if you break up and then you'd have toshowuponshootsanditwoukdbesoawkward!

Your mind was overthinking the future and leaving you standing right outside the door with a bowl of fruit in your hands feeling like the last idiot on the planet. It really took all of your courage to bring your knuckles up to the door and knock. Even though there was no response, you slowly opened the door and peeped in, seeing Kenny on the bed. You sighed noticing his frowned eyebrows as he scrolled through his phone.

"Kenny," you slowly sat down on the other side of the bed, not taking your eyes off of him. He didn't even look at you.

You fought your intrusive thoughts that were saying to just throw the bowl of fruit at his face and call him a dickhead.

"Look I'm sorry, I didn't think that things would spiral into something like that."

"Of course you didn't." He mumbled.

"Oh fuck you!" You exclaimed "Maybe you wouldn't be so fucking bothered if you grew a pair!"

His expression turned from angry to shocked real quick.

"What were you born fucking yesterday? It's the internet! I've seen shit way more fucked up than tweets from tenyearolds and I'm sure you have too, so stop acting like no one loves you because everyone does. Especially me and for you to even question my loyalty is so hurtful not only to me but also to you."

Kenny was at a loss for words. On one side you just insulted him, but on the other you just said you loved him and there's wasn't anything he could say. He stared at you with wide eyes as you tried to catch your breathe from all the talking.

"Uuuhhh...." He turned off his phone and put it in his pocket, turning to you and crossing his legs "I love you too?"

There was a small pause before the two of you broke out into a series of giggles, suddenly everything was ridiculously absurd and pointless. Without words both of you agreed that this fight wasn't worth the energy.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to like- I was-" Kenny groaned in annoyance as he struggled to explain "I just felt like-"

"Insecure?" You guessed.

"Yeah...That." He scratched the back of his head feeling a little uneasy at such a strong word.

"I get it." You sigh "Peace?" You hold up the bowl of fruit with a grin.

Kenny chuckles and nods "Peace." He takes the bowl.

"And it's fair of you to get jealous of me kissing Filly."

"Jealous?" Kenny chewed with a raised eyebrow "I wasn't jealous."

"Uhuh, yeah." You smirk at him.

"Wha- Nah. I was mad," he tries to hide his smile. You roll your eyes and scooch over next to him, bringing his head down and placing your lips onto his.

"Mmm, pineapple." You noded jokingly, pretending to chew.

"Stop," he giggles nudging you.

#beta squad #youtube #kingkennytv #king kenny #betasquadfanfic #betasquadedit #niko omilana #aj shabeel #chunkz #sharky #ndl

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laxmiree · 6 months

Text

[CN] MLQC's Lucien Binding Knot Date English Translation

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT!! ⚠️

This post contains a detailed spoiler for a date that has not been released in EN yet! Feel free to notify me if there are any mistakes in the translation~

She told me that a person's life is too short. In the blink of an eye, it's five years, and then another blink, it's ten years.

That's how she and her husband lived their lives, bickering and muddling through, and they ended up spending their whole lifetime together.

Looking back, the bumps in the road and trivial matters along the way don't hold much significance compared to being able to harmoniously live together for a lifetime.

Translation under the cut~

[Notes from Lux: Here's the CN video link if anyone want to follow along his Voice Acting. VERY recommended to re-read S1 chapter 9 and his Chinese Wedding SP Bound By Love/A Love Not in Vain because this date specifically references these two stories. AND perhaps Sacred Mountain Date regarding his belief in God(s)]

[Part 1]

Lucien: Today is Saturday. Didn't we agree not to work?

Lucien places a bowl of freshly washed blueberries on the coffee table and casually feeds me a few. I sit on the sofa, engrossed in the documents on my laptop.

MC: Kiki has sorted the photography registration form; I need to quickly finish reviewing it so that I can contact them earlier.

Recently, our company launched a charity project called "Taking Family Portraits for One Hundred Elderly People." After the announcement was made, we received dozens of registration forms in just two days.

MC: By the way, Lucien, if any professors from Loveland University are interested in this project, you can invite them as well.

MC: We've rented the best photography studio, and the photographers are top-notch, so you can rest assured about the photo quality.

Lucien: With so many people applying, I think we should try to avoid giving slots to people we know, right?

MC: Don't worry. Even though we're promoting it as a hundred people externally, we've discussed it internally and will try to accommodate as many as possible.

MC: We're willing to help strangers, let alone the people we know.

Lucien: In that case... I do have an idea.

Lucien points to the peace knot hanging on my wall- a knot that Grandma Wen taught me to weave, and it still hangs on one side of Lucien's bookshelf.

MC: Are you talking about Grandma Wen?

Grandma Wen is an elderly person who lives alone. Lucien and I have a close relationship with her. We've learned how to weave knots from her and even borrowed wedding attire. So, we visit her whenever we have free time.

She is also very hospitable to us, always arranging snacks for us to enjoy. She also advises us young people not to focus only on work but to remember to take care of ourselves.

MC: Actually, I did consider inviting her at first, but Grandma Wen's husband has already passed away, and having her take a family portrait alone might be a bit…

Lucien: Are you worried that it might make her uncomfortable?

Seeing me nod, Lucien leans back on the sofa, tilts his head, and smiles slightly.

Lucien: [chuckles] I think she won't mind at all.

Lucien: How about we ask her? One never knows.

After a lengthy discussion, we decided to call Grandma Wen. I carefully choose my words and extend the invitation, but Grandma Wen laughs heartily and readily accepts.

We finalize the shooting schedule. Lucien and I will pick her up together when the time comes.

However, Grandma Wen suggests she'd like to bring her cat, Baby, along for the photoshoot.

[Part 2]

On the agreed-upon morning, we arrive punctually at Grandma Wen's doorstep. While Lucien parks the car, I take the initiative to go and knock on the door.

The black-and-white spotted little cat lies under the eaves, rolling around playfully and occasionally pawing at something in the air, looking quite content.

MC: Baby~ Come here kitty for a hug~

But the little kitty pays no attention to me, completely engrossed in rolling on the ground. It rolls several times and ends up a meter away from me.

Lucien: (gently calls the kitty) Baby, come here.

Just as Lucien approaches, Baby suddenly gets up, takes two steps, and runs to Lucien's feet. It raises its paw and paw at the cuff of Lucien's pants, meowing incessantly.

MC: That's quite a contrast in treatment!

MC: Although I've played with it plenty of times before, it still prefers you. That's unfair!

Lucien lowers his gaze and sighs at the cat.

Lucien: [chuckles] You see, I didn't do anything, but she's angry just because you like me more.

Lucien: If you could talk, I'm sure you'd also think this is even more unfair to me, right?

Lucien crouches down and strokes the cat's head, using his fingers to rub its cheek gently.

Lucien: Please remember to be a little more coquettish with her later. Otherwise, I'll be in a tough spot.

MC: ...Hmph, you're not in a tough spot at all!

Lucien can't resist laughing and takes out a sealed bag of cat treats from his pocket, feeding them to Baby.

Lucien: Baby is actually relatively easy to please. Just give it some treats a few more times, and it will be circling around you.

Grandma Wen: MC, you're here…

I turn around and see that Grandma Wen is already standing at the door.

MC: Grandma! You look so beautiful today!

Grandma Wen is wearing a short jacket with a standing collar and a diagonal button today. It's evident at a glance that the craftsmanship is exquisite.

The satin fabric is smooth and lustrous, while the embroidery is lifelike with intricate stitching.

Grandma Wen sheepishly waves her hand.

Grandma Wen: These are old clothes I haven't worn in seven or eight years. It's rare that I've taken them out.

MC: Old clothes? I can't tell. They look just like new…

MC: Is the embroidery on the hem here the Lotus Pond? Each lotus is transitioned with several colors... It's really beautiful!

MC: Did you embroider this yourself, Grandma?

Grandma Wen touches the hem, smoothing the embroidered threads of the lotus leaves.

Grandma Wen: My husband made this for me when he was still alive.

Grandma Wen: From pattern drafting to embroidery, he did every step himself, insisting that his craftsmanship was better than mine.

Grandma Wen: These embroideries used to be even more beautiful, but unfortunately, the thread colors have faded over time.

MC: I can't tell that the thread colors have faded. I think it looks incredibly beautiful.

MC: Your complexion looks great today. When it's time for the photo shoot, we'll have a hairstylist do your hair. We must create a hairstyle that compliments this dress perfectly.

Lucien walks over carrying a cat carrier and lets Grandma Wen check Baby's condition.

Lucien: I used some cat treats to coax it into the carrier, and it didn't make any fuss and was very well-behaved.

Grandma Wen: Baby~ Baby, today we're going out for a photoshoot. After we get in the car, you must be good and not cause any trouble for your brothers and sisters, okay?

Grandma Wen claps her hands toward the cat inside the carrier, and Baby starts to scratch the carrier, about to meow. But Lucien offers a cat treat, and it immediately quiets down.

I give Lucien a thumbs up - only he can do it.

Lucien: How about you sit in the back with Grandma Wen later? If Baby wants to come out, you can feed it some cat treats.

MC: Mm, no problem~

Grandma Wen: Is it time to leave? Let me grab a few things.

Grandma Wen goes back inside and returns with a Chángshān covered in a dustproof cover. I have a vague idea of who the owner of this robe might be.

Grandma Wen: I made this Chángshān for my husband when I was young. It was his favorite outfit. I'll bring it along for the photoshoot. So, it's as if he's also accompanying me.

Lucien takes a half step forward, probably thinking that the gown in the bag is not light and wanting to help Grandma Wen get it into the car. However, when he catches my gaze, he takes a step back.

Lucien: Let's get in the car, Grandma.

Lucien opens both car doors, assists Grandma Wen into the car, helps her fasten the seatbelt, and then checks that the cat carrier on my lap is secure before closing the car doors.

[Part 3]

After arriving at the photography studio, the makeup artist has to apply makeup and do the hair for Grandma Wen.

I'm worried that Grandma Wen might hesitate to communicate her needs with the makeup artist, so I am constantly accompanying her, talking to her, and helping her with her makeup.

Lucien is responsible for taking care of Baby, who starts running around as soon as they enter the photography studio.

Grandma Wen: When we first found Baby in the wild, it was only as big as the palm of a human hand. I made a nest for it with a towel, and it slept under the dining table.

Grandma Wen: In the blink of an eye, it has grown so big.

Grandma Wen: When it was little, it wasn't this mischievous. It used to lie in the corner every day obediently and didn't let anyone approach. As soon as someone got close, it would run away.

Grandma Wen: Now, it plays with birds, teases dogs, and does all sorts of daring things. There's nothing it's afraid to do.

Grandma Wen gently squeezes my hand and says.

Grandma Wen: You should go outside and take a look. It's not easy for Professor Lucien to keep an eye on Baby all by himself. There are machines everywhere here. Don't let that smelly cat cause any trouble for you.

I nod and walk out of the makeup room.

In the living room of the photography studio, there is a bright lounge area. Lucien is holding a cat teaser toy, playing with Baby as it pounces back and forth on the sofa.

MC: You even brought a cat teaser wand?

Lucien: Not just that, I also have a cat jingle bell ball and a laser pointer in the trunk.

Lucien: I consulted my colleagues who have pets, and they said that if you want your pets to behave well for photos, you need to let them play for a good hour beforehand.

Lucien: Once they get tired from playing, they can cooperate more.

I walk over and sit down on the sofa, gently petting Baby's head. It doesn't resist and tilts its head up, allowing me to scratch its chin.

Lucien finds a moment to rest and casually picks up a book from the bookshelf, leaning back on the sofa.

MC: (smiles) It seems like this method is working. It's already behaving quite well now.

Lucien: It's probably just temporarily tired from playing. After a short rest, it will be jumping around again.

Lucien: After all, it's the most mischievous kitten I've ever seen.

Lucien gently taps the top of the Baby's head, and the kitten raises its front paw, quickly grabbing his finger.

Lucien: It climbs trees, catches birds, and even fights with stray cats... When it's full of energy, there's no stopping it.

I recall not too long ago when Baby went missing again. When we found it, it was in the middle of a fight with a stray cat outside, and its face was scratched up.

We were afraid that Grandma Wen would worry if she saw its condition, so we didn't return it directly. Instead, we told her that we were taking it to the hospital for a check-up and would bring it back once it recovered.

MC: (smiles softly) Do you remember what you said the last time we took Baby to the hospital?

Lucien: Hm?

MC: You said that despite its many escapades, Grandma Wen never considered keeping it indoors and always let it go out to play.

Lucien: I remember, if it were up to me, I wouldn't let this little cat run wild everywhere.

I pick up the cat teaser toy and start playing with the little cat, swinging it on and off.

MC: As soon as we mentioned taking a family photo, Grandma Wen immediately thought of bringing the cat along.

MC: It's clear that in Grandma Wen's heart, it's her most important family member.

MC: That's how it is among family members. No matter how worried or concerned we are, we still want the other person to be happy and do what they want to do.

Lucien: ….Our Great Producer has something to say and found a good way to start the conversation.

Noticing that I had a hidden agenda, Lucien had already guessed what it was.

Lucien: Grandma Wen already told you, didn't she?

MC: Right before the makeup session, Grandma Wen pulled me aside in a corner to talk.

MC: She said that you've been to the Matchmaker's Temple alone several times before and also visited her along the way.

I sigh meaningfully.

MC: Professor Lucien, have you encountered a problem that materialism* can't solve?

[T/N: Materialism in this context is more of a philosophical belief that only physical matter exists and that everything can be explained through the physical world and natural laws.]

Lucien leans back leisurely on the sofa, wearing only a light smile.

Baby rolls over under his palm, purring contentedly.

Lucien: Gods don't solve problems. I'm a researcher, and I still have to uphold certain principles.

Lucien: But when it comes to matters of the heart, it's just too complicated... variables abound, and there's no optimal solution.

Lucien: So, I often wonder if a certain little fool occasionally worries about me or gets angry for me. Is it because I haven't done well enough?

He lifts the corner of his eyebrows, seeming not to be troubled by this matter, just candidly sharing his feelings.

The unbridled sunlight streams through the curtains, illuminating the tenderness in his eyes with exceptional clarity.

Lucien: Questions without answers are better left to metaphysics.

Lucien: Even if the problem doesn't get solved, you can still find some comfort in it to some extent.

As Lucien speaks, he no longer plays with Baby. The cat feels neglected and keeps nudging Lucien's palm with its head.

I stroke its fluffy head and realize that it's been a very long time since the first time I saw this cat with Lucien in the wheat field.

Some things probably don't have answers in either science or metaphysics; the experiences of life are what will eventually reveal the truth.

MC: Lucien, do you know what Grandma Wen just said to me?

Lucien: Tell me.

MC: She told me that a person's life is too short. In the blink of an eye, it's five years, and then another blink, it's ten years.

MC: That's how she and her husband lived their lives, bickering and muddling through, and they ended up spending their whole lifetime together.

MC: Looking back, the bumps in the road and trivial matters along the way don't hold much significance compared to being able to harmoniously live together for a lifetime.

Lucien straightens up, seeing that there's no one around, and then suddenly leans down to place a kiss on my forehead.

The warm sunshine reflects in his eyes as he looks at me. He smiles a little and casually picks up the kitty, holding it in his arms as if nothing happened.

Lucien: Grandma Wen is right.

[Part 4]

After the lighting technician adjusts the lighting, Lucien and I stand in the corner of the photography studio.

Grandma Wen sits on the mahogany bench, spreading her husband's Chángshān flat across her lap. The photographer holds Baby and places it on the Chángshān.

The naturally mischievous cat is being incredibly well-behaved at this moment. No matter how the photographer handles it, it's willing to cooperate and even knows how to look at the camera.

Photographer: Grandma, please reach out your hand and gently touch the cat's head—yes, that's right, just a natural touch will do.

Photographer: This cat is so well-behaved, cooperative and calm.

Grandma Wen: Good Baby, I'll make you some fish to eat when we get back tonight.

Photographer: Grandma, let's maintain this pose and take two more shots.

Lucien gazes at the scene before him, momentarily lost in thought.

Lucien: From the first time we entered her house, I noticed that there were no photos of her and her husband displayed in her home.

Lucien: Upon careful inquiry, I discovered that they had indeed never taken any photos together.

Lucien: ...Two people spending a lifetime together is something worth commemorating. They should have had a photo together.

After he says that, he turns his head slightly and whispers in my ear.

Lucien: Thanks to the producer's help, at least Grandma Wen has a family portrait now, regardless of the circumstances.

For a moment, I'm unsure of what to say.

He's truly humble for someone who has doubted his understanding of love.

—--------------------------------------------------------

After the shoot, Lucien and I accompanied Grandma Wen back the same way we came.

Grandma Wen: Stay for dinner. You two don't be so polite…

Grandma Wen: I feel bad that both of you have been busy all day. Having a meal together is no big deal, just a few extra pairs of chopsticks.

We don't want her to have to deal with cooking after a long day of photoshoots, so we politely decline.

Lucien: Grandma, it's still early. MC and I plan to visit the Matchmaker Temple, so we won't stay.

Lucien: You've had a long day today. Remember to rest well.

MC: Yes, Grandma. After the photos are developed, I'll bring them to you right away. We'll have the meal you promised then.

Grandma Wen didn't insist on keeping us any longer, but she promised that the next time we visit, we must stay for a meal. We quickly nodded in agreement.

—--------------------------------------------------------

On the way to the Matchmaker Temple, the sun gradually sets, casting a beautiful array of evening colors between the trees and stone steps. It's hard for anyone walking through this scenery not to feel relaxed.

MC: It's quite rare for this place to be this peaceful.

Lucien: Festivals have yet to happen recently, so there are very few tourists. The Matchmaker God can take a break too.

MC: With no incense burning at the Matchmaker Temple, does it mean that everyone hasn't been facing relationship difficulties? It seems like a good thing, doesn't it?

Lucien: (shushes and whispers) Shhh... with a troubling view like that, you might upset the Matchmaker God. Be careful not to displease him.

I can't help but laugh at his teasing, and I also find his words reasonable. I quickly pull Lucien to pay respects to the Matchmaker and offer incense.

I hope that the Matchmaker is understanding and doesn't take my words to heart.

After offering incense and making a donation, Lucien and I found a couple of chairs inside the temple and sat down. We plan to watch the sunset for a while and leave when the temple closes.

The faint scent of sandalwood here blends with the natural aroma of the forest, creating a tranquil and enduring atmosphere that instantly soothes the heart. I lean closer to Lucien and ask softly.

MC: Lucien, what wishes did you make when you came here alone before? Have any of them come true?

Lucien bends slightly, brushing away a cluster of dandelion seeds that accidentally caught onto his shirt cuff. He then leisurely curves his lips into a smile.

Lucien: I don't even remember the specific wishes I made anymore.

Lucien: They were probably just about small things, like planning to meet up but then having something come up at the research institute, causing me to break the appointment.

Lucien: Another example is when I promise to sleep well, but then accidentally stay up for a few nights and get caught by you.

Lucien: (laughs softly)....

Lucien: Now that I think about it, they were indeed all trivial matters, and you've always been very understanding.

Lucien lifts his gaze, meeting my eyes.

Lucien: Although we quickly forget these minor disagreements.

Lucien: But occasionally, I do pay attention to these little disagreements that fill our lives. After all, even the smallest things have their own meaning.

I can't help but let my lips curl up slowly, and Lucien lifts his chin, revealing a somewhat helpless expression.

Lucien: It's evident that the Great Producer is very pleased with my introspection.

MC: …..Pfft, not exactly 'very'.

MC: I'm just marveling at how Professor Lucien sets such astonishingly high standards for himself.

MC: It seems like I don't reflect on my actions much when I make you angry... But from today on, I'll try to change that.

Lucien: [chuckles] It's okay.

Lucien changes the topic, and a smile spreads in his eyes.

Lucien: Now that I think about it, these little bumps and trivial matters aren't really that important.

He takes a knot from his pocket and hands it to me. The way the knot is tied resembles the peace knot that Grandma Wen had taught me before, but the weaving method seems more intricate.

Lucien: This is a knot that Grandma Wen taught me to weave as a special thank you for us.

Lucien: She also said that the name of this knot is yí shì yíjiā (宜室宜家).

Lucien: Today, it seems like I have a clearer understanding of the meaning of this word.

[T/N: 宜室宜家 is a Chinese idiom that means "live harmoniously; make a harmonious and orderly home." It is often used as a congratulatory message on a wedding. The idiom comes from a line in the poem "Tao Yao" in the Book of Songs, which reads, "之子于归，宜其室家" (the son is returning home, where he should live harmoniously with his wife and make a harmonious and orderly home). And it fits with the date theme of living harmoniously together for a lifetime despite all the small bumps🥺.]

Suddenly, my heart feels soft, and I take a small step closer to Lucien's shoulder. I pick up my phone and open the front camera.

I put both of us in the frame.

The setting sun casts a gentle glow behind us, and the breeze is light, creating a tranquil and beautiful atmosphere.

MC: The sunset today looks beautiful. Let's take a photo together.

MC: 3, 2, 1–

My trailing voice fades away in the warm breath as Lucien lowers his head and kisses me.

----------------------------------------------------------

[Bonus Call - "Family Portrait"]

Lucien: Hello, it's me. I have some good news to tell you.

MC: What is it?

Lucien: Didn't you put Grandma Wen's family portrait photo on the company's public social media account?

MC: Um... Grandma Wen said it was okay, so I posted it. What's the matter?

Lucien: A professor from the university recognized Grandma Wen's clothes and said he had seen the person in the photo before, right at the West Moon Street intersection.

Lucien: This professor was a photography enthusiast when he was younger, and at the time, he noticed Grandma Wen's well-dressed appearance and couldn't resist taking a photo.

Lucien: Later on, he always wanted to give the photo to Grandma Wen, but he went to West Moon Street a few times and never encountered them again.

MC: "Them?"

Lucien: Mm, that's the good news I wanted to share. The photo the professor took is a picture of Grandma Wen and her husband.

MC: That's quite a coincidence!

Lucien: There's an even greater coincidence.

Lucien: I just got my hands on this photo, and in it, Grandma Wen is holding a tiny kitten the size of her palm.

MC: Is it Baby?

Lucien: Judging by its patterns, it seems so.

Lucien: Although the photo is quite old, I've contacted a professional photo restoration expert, and if all goes well, it should be restored within about a week.

MC: So, we can bring this photo to Grandma Wen next weekend?

Lucien: Exactly. They're real family portraits, and I hope it can truly make up for her regrets.

MC: ...It's really amazing, it feels like there's something guiding us in all of this.

Lucien: Who knows, maybe it really is.

Lucien: Let's go together to get the photo restored later. I know you're eager to see it as soon as possible.

MC: Um—I'll finish up what I'm doing, and then I'll come find you right away!

--------------------------------------------------------

[Lux's Short Rambles]

I didn't expect this date to be this good huhu. It's far better than last pet date where it feels like a plot that got way longer than it should 😂. It's also nice to see old NPCs getting mentioned again. The story of Grandma Wen with her husband is touching.

The theme of spending a lifetime together, despite how short life is, never fails got my heart clenched. And I love how this date highlights what a sensitive person Lucien is (in a good way, well, most of the time). He doesn't mind her getting angry at him because he knows that she does it because she cares about him. But he also genuinely fears that she might not be happy; so he goes to the Matchmaker's Temple alone and cares about these small conflicts, believing that they also have meaning :". But in the end, such trivial things and bumps on the road don't matter compared to being able to live their whole lives together, so rather than getting caught up in minor conflicts or trivial matters along the way it's better to priotize living together harmoniously for a lifetime.

He also noticed the smallest things, like how Grandma Wen and her husband never had their photo taken together since the very first time he and MC met Grandma Wen back in S1 Chapter 9. To quote MC, for someone who claimed he doesn't understand what love is, he's truly humble; perhaps back then, he already understands what love is in his heart by loving MC.

#FINALLY SOMETHING TO HEAL MY HEART AFTER PAIN FROM MAIN STORY AND HALLOWEEN DATE #and touching too; i tear up a little reading this #mlqc lucien #mr love queen's choice #mlqc cn #mlqc spoiler #mlqc #mlqc translation #mr. love queen's choice #mr love lucien #mlqc xu mo #mlqc spoilers

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juniperwoodwell · 1 year

Note

can I request #5 from your general prompt list with bale!bruce wayne x fem!reader? maybe you’ve known each other for a while but don’t know he’s batman and there’s some definite tension and one night he doesn’t know what to do after he’s pretty scraped up so he comes to you to tend to his wounds even though you’re not a doctor. And you figure out who he is, only reason he hasn’t told you is to protect you. Maybe the convo gets heated and escalates into a kiss/confession?!

Presence

•Bruce Wayne x F!Reader

•Word count:1k

•Warning(s):Talk of wounds and blood but nothing too gross. Use of Y/n.

•A/n:Hello! So I wrote this about a year ago before I even got this request and I thought it was pretty close to your request. I may decide to make a part two if that's something you'd like. If you dislike it I can always write something different.

•photo not mine, Pinterest

It was two in the morning, and I was in my apartment watching friends in my living room when I heard a window open in the kitchen; being very concerned and very startled, I got up off the couch and grabbed the baseball bat I kept next to the front door, I proceed into the kitchen with the bat in hand, I went to flick on the light, but a low, strained voice spoke up "I wouldn't turn on the light if I were you. You might not like what you see." I saw the figure, and dropped the weapon "Batman?" I asked and turned on the light; he closed his eyes at the bright light. I gasped, seeing his suit ripped on his left shoulder and right under his ribcage. "What happened!?" I said, as I approached him. "Let's not talk about that," he spoke softly as I looked him over. "Why are you here? Shouldn't you go to the hospital or find someone who can sew you up?" I ased, and he nodded. "I did. I found you" I looked up at him, confused, but assumed that he looked me up. It's not a secret that I have medical experience. "Okay. Come with me" I guided him to my bedroom and told him to sit on the bed, and he obliged. I went to my closet and pulled out my large first aid kit. I grabbed all the things I needed, then went back to Batman. " I know your whole thing is about having a secret identity, but I can't exactly patch you up with that suit on or the mask," he grunted, then nodded. "Yeah...You're right. " I smiled apologetically because I could see the pain in his eyes; it looked familiar for some reason. I went to my closet again to grab a box that says, 'Ex-boyfriend things I need to burn.'

Placing the box on the bed next to Batman, I opened it and pulled out a shirt and a pair of sweatpants "You can put these on. I'll let you change in here" I hear him chuckle as he looked at the words on the box. "Thank you. Come over here for a second before you leave" I do as he asked and stand in front of him as he's was sitting on the edge of the bed. He reached up and took off his mask. "Mr. Wayne?" I say, almost whispering, "How many times do I have to tell you just to call me Bruce when we're alone?" I was at a complete loss for words; everything clicked in my mind as I stepped forward and placed my hand on his cheek, he put his hand on top of mine and smiled sweetly, but the moment is cut short when I remembered that he was bleeding "Hurry up and get changed we don't were the wounds to get infected." He chuckled as I rushed out of the bedroom closing the door.

As Mr. Way-Bruce was getting changed out of his suit, I sat on my couch "...Wow...My Boss- Friend? is Batman...This makes so much sense. Wait- So does that mean my father knows? Did my dad know Bruce was Batman, and then Bruce blackmailed him?-" My thoughts are cut short when Bruce came out of my bedroom. "I can explain everything to you if you want. But after you patch me up." I shoot off the couch and returned to the bedroom with Bruce. He sat back down on the edge of the bed, and I grabbed some alcohol wipes. It wasn't until I stood between his knees that I realized he didn't put on the shirt. The man is bleeding and bruised, and here I was, ogling him. "Y/n?" I shook my head as I snapped out of my daze "S-Sorry. This will be cold," I warned as I started to clean up his wounds, he flinched and quietly hissed at the contact. I stitched up his side, then his shoulder. "All done," I announced with a reassuring smile as I look at him. Our faces were inches apart. "Thank you..." he said quietly; I only now noticed his arms were loosely wrapped around my waist. "I..." I stopped myself before I say something I'd regret. "You...?" he asked as I placed the needle down on the bedside table; I tried to move so he could get up, but he pulled me closer. And kissed my cheek. "I hope you understand that I couldn't go to the hospital. I had no one else to turn to" I nodded and placed my hands on his face; he smiled tiredly and put his head on my shoulder, my hands gently played with his hair. "Why don't you just stay here for the night," I asked, and he nodded. "I can go sleep on the couch," Bruce suggested, looking back at my face, "What? No, You take the bed, Bruce. You've had a long night," He sighed, probably knowing i'd say something like that. "Let's not argue about who sleeps where. I'm too tired right now," He spoke with a smirk playing on his lips. Tightened his grip on my waist, he leaned back onto my bed, pulling me on top of him. "I- Bruce-" He cut me off quietly, shushing me. His fingers gently rubbed small circles on my back. "I'll explain everything in the morning," he said in a whisper, and I nodded tiredly. My head rested in the crook of his neck, on the non-stitched side of the course. We quickly drifted off to sleep.

I groaned as I felt the morning sun on my face; tiredly, I opened my eyes to see Bruce standing in front of my window with a cup of coffee in his hand, still just in those baggy sweat pants that barely stayed on his hips. "Good morning..." I breathed with a yawn as I sat up; I looked down, realizing I was no longer in the same clothes I had the night before. "Hmm.." Bruce turned to me and sipped his coffee with a smile. "Can I know how I got into this shirt?" I asked him, rubbing my eyes.

"You don't remember?" he questioned, as he chuckled,

that sweet noise filling my ears. "No...So care to explain?"

"Ha, alright. About an hour or so after we fell asleep, I woke up and decided it'd be good if we laid in the bed properly" He stopped speaking to sip his coffee and sit down next to me.

"So I woke you up and asked you if you wanted to change out of your jeans and put on Pajamas; you mumbled something like 'Sure thing, bossman,' so I got you to sit up on the bed so I could get you a shirt to change into. When I turned around to give you the shirt, you were struggling to unbutton your pants, I asked you if you needed help, but you sternly told me, "No, batman, I can save myself," so I sat the shirt beside you and helped you change after I asked you about twelve times. Eventually, you cooperated, then we returned to bed and passed out" After Bruce finished explaining, my face grew hot with embarrassment.

"Did I really say that stuff?" I asked shyly, and Bruce nodded as he finished his coffee; he leaned in and kissed my head. "It was cute." I groaned and fell backward onto the bed in embarrassment. "By the way, This coffee is horrible." He said as he smiled at me before he, too, fell back onto the bed beside me. I looked over at him and rolled my eyes. "Hey, Don't judge my coffee choices. Not everyone can buy stupidly expensive coffee." I said as I reached out to poke his nose; we laughed as we lay in each other's presence.

#writing #writers on tumblr #fanfic #reader insert #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #bale!bruce wayne #bale!bruce wayne x reader #batman x reader #batman begins #batman

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samssims · 4 months

Note

Hi Sam! I was wondering if I could ask for some advice on how to make simblr fun again? I love storytelling (it's how I have fun with the game) but lately with writing posts and even in game, I just find myself stressing over if it's good/interesting enough or if I took good screenshots, if my writing is good, etc. I love this game and sharing my stories with this community, so it sucks to feel like this. Thank you sm ♥

Oh Nonny, how I feel this pain. I wish I had a sure fire answer to this but sadly there isn't just one thing that will work.

I will put some advice below for some things that have worked for me in my experience if you're interested in trying them out to try to find that spark again!

Now I have been on tumblr sharing my sims since 2013 so I have seen the community change a lot. Things change, people come and go, it's just the natural way of things. So a lot of the time your community can change around you and so a few years ago sims storytelling was really popular and it was the thing everyone was doing. And I mean everyone.

But now things have sort of fallen off or shifted and there is no shame in that for those who moved onto other things and hobbies. Sims storytelling, at it's core, is a hobby. No one is making money off of it (unless you write it all down and get it published in which case, hell yeah go you!)

That being said, finding your spark again is going to be finding what YOU like about storytelling in the sims.

So here are some tips you can try out in the game to keep it fresh and exciting:

Play the Game

The game has changed a lot and added a lot. It came out in 2014. It's about to be 10 years old. With expansions still being added. Honestly having a family where you can just play through what the game offers you can offer inspiration on how to use in game things for story related things later on.

I have found having a lowkey gameplay (for yourself or even for your blog if you are posting) is an easy way to stay active in the community while keeping things low stakes and casual for yourself while you work on finding your spark again.

Change Up your Post Style

Idk about you Nonny, but nothing gets me less motivated than having to edit photos. If I could just point, shoot, and post, I would have content coming out my ears. Which is what I started doing with my Princess Legacy. All I do is crop it. I add some things here and there but really it's all pretty much easy.

Now I have done it all.

Prose on photos.

Prose under photos:

Icons Only:

Gameplay Only:

And finally just cropped:

Now what is the best? That is personal preference especially for the project you are doing. However I have definitely discovered the crop method to be SUPER helpful.

It makes me not have to worry about the whole photo. Sometimes I have this SUPER awesome detail in the back of a photo but when I crop them I lose all that. Which is not good for storytelling lets be honest but does force me to focus on what is actually important in the shot.

Example: Here is the full cottage photo from above You can see that I cropped out a lot of the cottage in favor of being able to see the deer and swans as i thought that was more a cozy fairytale vibe than just the cottage itself. I lost a lot of this detail yet the point still came across.

TBH the paired crop photos also makes me cut out a lot of access photos if they don't have a pair. It's sort of made me realize how much I don't need to take screenshots of. Though I am definitely an overtaker of photos so I always have plenty to choose from. Sometimes I even queue them then look back and realize they aren't needed and delete. It's humbled me a bit.

I could break down every one of these posting styles but that's a whole other thing you didn't ask about.

TLDR of this section is to experiment with how you post. You can have a lot of fun with that.

If Something is Boring, Skip it.

Do you hate the infant stage? Age them past it. Do you hate the winter months in game? Set seasons to never have winter. Do you hate in game holidays ruining your plans? Delete them all from your calendar. Is it a crucial part to your story? Not anymore. Write around it. Or find some creative angles and dialogue to write over it.

Make the game fit you!

Follow the Inspo

Have inspiration to make a new sim in CAS? Do it! Want to make a whole new save? Have an idea for one scene that could start a whole story but you have nothing else for it? DO IT!!!

The game is supposed to be fun. If you have inspiration for a project, live in it. Have fun with it.

But Sam, what if only lasts 2 weeks and I never touch it again?

Me too, babes. Happens to me all the time. Own it. Keep it around in case you want to mess with it later. Have 10 million saves. It's your life and if it brings you a moment of joy to work on it, then it totally is worth it.

If you want to be like me: Be chaotic and post it too. Then private the posts later when you decide to never touch it again. Never delete tho. I always tend to regret deleted things.

Find Your Community

You should ultimately write and create for yourself, but find others who are doing it too! Lift them up as well! Use one day a week on your blog to give reblogs or shoutouts to your fellow creators and writers! It's all about lifting each other up and making friends who all have the same hobby as us.

Try New Challenges

A lot of my sims storytelling started from inspiration around legacy challenges. I loved to take challenge rules and figure out how to make a story around them. But remember: Rules are made to be broken. Especially in favor of a good story.

If you are working on a current challenge/story, find another to merge with it or to give yourself a heck of a fun plot twist. There are no rules!

Have Fun!

This is sort of the whole crux of it, right? And if you're not having fun then...

Take a Break

You are not beholden to your queue! Let it die out! Disappear for 6 months. Return when you want. Go play Animal Crossing or BG3 or whatever it is at the moment. Sims is a hobby. But it does not have to be your ONLY hobby. Let your brain rest.

In my case, whenever I leave the sims I am always filled with ideas and ready to come back in like 3 days.

This could also mean take a break from your save too. Maybe spend some time in CAS. Or in build mode. Or cleaning out your mods. You can still do sims things while letting your story brain rest.

TLDR:

There is no right answer for this, Nonny. I promise your photos are all gorgeous and your story is wonderful! But creativity like anything ebbs and flows so give yourself that grace to let yourself rest and just enjoy the game again, or enjoy time away from it! You deserve it you superstar creator!

#Sam Speaks #nonsims #looooong post #so sorry I got carried away #had to wait to get to my laptop to answer this one #which is why it took me a minute #hope you find your spark nonny!

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