#I’m also too tired to add more but I can always do part two/expand
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hello <333 first of all, I want you to know that I always wanna know your thoughts, but rn I desperately wanna know your thoughts about Hawks that you’re willing to fight over—if you feel comfortable sharing them, of course. I just really love your brain lol but feel free to ignore or delete if you don’t wanna share, honestly <3
ASH!!!!!! have i ever told u HOW MUCH I LOVE U??? i'm honestly so touched you wanna hear my opinion hehehe i feel so special bc tbh? i love y o u r brain...
it's honestly kinda funny because i don't care for hawks as much as i used to but he's definitely my comfort character in terms of who i try to understand the deepest. that being said... all of these thoughts are kinda old as i have yet to re-up them given that i havent seen season 5 yet and read the manga AGES ago.
but! thank u sm for asking!!! <333333
(warning: EDs + trauma/abuse + SPOILERS all mentioned. honestly now that im writing these out they don't feel that special, but... u know LOL. i don't see them talked about enough)
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Idk how really to start LOL and some of this it's possible I've said before
First and foremost, I think he's a super neat person. Aggressively neat... as he definitely rings as a character who's weird upbringing with his weird parents in a weird shack has made him super concerned with not living in squalor
He's not gonna be mean to people about messes, though. He understands why they occur and what they symbolize... he's just not gonna tolerate any kind of dirtiness in his own house
Similarly, he eats/enjoys food for some of the same reasons.
His parents weren't able to provide him with anything substantial + I doubt the commission really provided him with anything other than meal plans... so eating is an escape from that
He has a line that clues us into this too (and I can find it if anyone wants) but I'm forgetting it right now
I don't want to say it's binge related but it's definitely disordered eating of some sorts, where like... if you offer him food, no matter the time or place, he's eating
And though he's lean for work, he'd probably have more of a stocky build if you left him to his own devices (because he’s also somewhat. Short)
Also... Hawks IS a deeply kind + thoughtful person... but he's not kind because he's naturally kind, he's kind because he chooses to be kind
It's a specific thing, I think... where he makes choices that he doesn't really like for the sake of it being right / what he believes in
But just because he puts a happy face on it all or it seems like he likes you... doesn't mean that his internal feelings match
So he's a lot more mean when you get to know him... which is shocking because he never actually does anything mean. Just says mean shit and speaks his mind in private and it's all weirdly depressing
And all acts of frivolously are extremely calculated, too. Even if there is truth in his declaration of "I want to live in a world where Hero's have free time"
He does, just. Can't
Similarly, he's also like... lazy... in a way that makes him hard to interact with
Again, not mean exactly but you can almost never get favors out of him or rush him because he's just gonna do stuff his way whether you like it or not
(This is dumb, but for example, you ask him to start planning for your vacation and... No. He's gonna plan when he wants to plan.)
And he also never explains anything to you and deals with all his problems by himself, so... you just have to trust that things will work out with him
Doesn't matter if it's when he plans to do something or what he's struggling with... it's personal. You get left out of it
And not intentionally, either... he's just incapable of letting someone help carry his burdens. EVEN if/when he loves them
So, TL;DR: what I'd fight over is Hawks being seen as a superficial person who doesn't value the significance of kindness or privilege. I definitely think we never really get to talk about his internal dialogue or struggles which are SO painful given that he is literally willing to sacrifice and kill for the benefit of society despite it being wrong. Also, he's a dick.
Hope this makes sense tho and thank u for asking!!! Again, I love u, tee hee.
#hawks#idk these thoughts are complex TO ME#if im a dummy i apologize#I’m also too tired to add more but I can always do part two/expand#eating disorder tw#abuse tw#bnha spoilers#caitie post#ask#touyasdollmain
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Warnings: SMUT, insecurities but mark just needs a lil reassurance abt how good he makes you feel, finger fucking/sucking, he cums in his pants, fluff bc yall r in love love <3
Mark knows he's being irrational about this whole ordeal. One conversation shouldn't be getting under his skin like it is, but this one thing seems to be knocking at the forefront of his brain, throwing him out of focus as of late.
So what, you masturbate. It's normal, he's not there all the time, of course you do. He does too, but he also becomes outrageously horny everytime he so much as thinks about your skin or the way you kiss him. And it's safe to say he thinks about you alot. Alot alot.
"It's different, though? I'm a guy, we jerk off an outrageous amount," he argues, furrowing his eyebrows as you stare up at his pacing form from the bed, grinning. He's cute when he's flustered.
"And girls just...aren't supposed to get horny without the help of a guy?" You inquire.
He stops pacing at this, slumping his shoulders. "that's not what I mean, I just-" he sighs, plopping himself next to you on the edge of the bed. He chews on the inside of his lip for a moment before shaking his head.
"Nevermind, I'm just tired." He runs his fingers through his disheveled hair, looking at you apologetically with his big doe eyes.
You're still amused, giggling as you reach over to cup his rosy hued cheeks, pulling him to your mouth for a kiss.
"A little toy could never replace you, my love."
You'd reassured him that night by wrapping your lips around his dick, and he was too lost in the belly aching anticipation and bliss of it all, to really pay attention to what it was you'd just said.
A little toy.
He hasn't stopped thinking about it. It's both slightly irritating, while also being the new source of his sexual frustration when he's supposed to be practicing. He thinks it may be more irritating than the ladder though, because as much as he hates to admit it, he is a jealous creature.
It's silly, childish and he knows it. Maybe that's why he's so unsettled by this, because he knows that you love him. He knows you like his dick, from what you've expressed. But, maybe he's doing something wrong?
Maybe you just don't want to to wound his ego, and instead act like his dick is enough to satisfy you. Of course, he knows some sensations are better than others, but how often do you need to touch yourself? Does he not please you enough in the moments you two are together?
These questions still nag him when he walks into your apartment at around 7:35 pm, causing worry to crease between his brows.
You, of course, pick up on this when you round the corner from your bedroom to see him making his way towards you, lost in thought. Your arms snake around his middle and your lips place a kiss to his jaw. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.
"What's got you all mopey?" You ask, searching for any signs of pain or discomfort in his eyes, only to be stumped by his undreadable expression. Maybe he's just had a long day?
He hums, broken from his self depricating reverie, evidently not realizing he's wearing his emotions so blatantly.
"Nothin' just tired, wanted to come home." He buries his face in the crook of your shoulder once you've pulled him into your room, his breath warm against your neck.
You must've just taken a shower, skin the scent of his favorite soap that always has him sniffing you randomly throughout the day. He squeezes you tighter.
You kiss the side of his head, reluctantly pulling yourself away only to grab his hands and move to the bed, not believing that there's nothing more than just fatigue that's got his usual goofy smile hidden behind such a frustrated countenance.
You crawl onto his lap once his back is against the headboard, his hands slipping underneath your shirt to rub your back, a habit when he's nervous. He knows what's coming, already avoiding your eyes.
"Are you gonna tell me what's wrong, Mark Lee? No excuses, this time." You mean business, but your voice is still as soft and comforting as ever. He can't resist looking up at you once you stroke his cheek with your thumb, featherlight.
With a drawn out breath, he reluctantly responds, knowing it'll only eat at him further if he doesn't.
"It's just....I feel like maybe I don't do enough for you...sexually? Like, I know everyone masturbates and It's totally fine you use a toy and stuff, I just feel like...like maybe It's better than...than what I can do? I know I'm not the most experienced but-"
He's stuttering, ears tomato red at the tips and he's a bit perplexed to see such a jubilant smile spreading across your face as he rubs the back of his neck, embarassed beyond belief.
"Mark..." you cup his soft, blazing cheeks in your palms, forcing him to meet your gaze as squeamish as he's suddenly become. "you're that upset over something like this?"
You don't sound judgemental nor teasing, despite the way you're grinning. But still, he wants to hide his face, wants to bow his head in shame. Suddenly he feels very foolish.
Not being able to stand seeing him so crestfallen, you reassure him, trurthfully. Your heart aches.
"Hey hey, look at me bub," wide doe eyes stare back at you, as you move some of his hair out from in front of his forehead where the strands have fallen. "you are more than enough, so good that when you're away I cant stand it. I have to touch myself, and I'm not just saying that."
His expression has regained some confidence, though you're not done yet. You've got this determination swirling in the pit of your belly, thrumming through your veins. You want him to know how truly incredible he really is, how good he really makes you feel.
"I think about your hands, your mouth, your dick. And you know what? By the end of it I'm not even satisfied, because that little toy isn't you. Do you understand? Hmm? Or do I have to show you?"
Suddenly his heartbeat is loud in his ears, adams apple bobbing as he swallows. He's hardened underneath you and you known that you've got him.
"I-I understand, now. But you could still show me, you know. If you want." His voice is a little unsteady but the corners of his soft, pink mouth twitch at the corners with an echo of a smile.
It's too much, Mark Lee absolutely will be the death of you. And so you kiss him, in a way that has his toes curling and his arms wrapping around your middle like a boa, refusing to let go.
Your fingers are tiwsted in his hair as you suck on his plush bottom lip, a gasp leaving his throat when your teeth nibble the sensitive skin. He can feel your hardened nipples through your sweater, pressing against his chest.
Your knees have tightened around the small of his waist as well, crotch rubbing against the strained bulge in his basketball shorts. You whine into his mouth.
"Mm, you should feel how wet you make me," his hands venture lower at this, until his warm fingertips are pressing into the flesh of your thighs. "go ahead Markie, touch me."
He groans, not being able to hold it back from his chest at the sound of your voice and your generous offer. His fingers, delicate and eager rub your pussy through your lounge shorts, and his jaw slacks a bit at your lack of underwear.
Your tongue slips against his, mouths parted and greedy while he slips his hand into the warmth of your shorts - and practically whines.
He wasn't expecting the abundance of your essence, the utter and complete lack of friction as his digits glide effortlessly through your silken folds. He takes his ring finger and presses the pad of it against your entrance, circling and listening to the lewd, slick sounds.
"Oh fuck," he croons free hand on your lower back and urging you against his touch. "you're s-so wet already, how are you so wet?" He's mystified, and completely fucked.
"I told you." You kiss him again, swallowing his reply and grinding your pussy against his palm. Without warning, he slips a finger in, and then another, falling apart at the way your walls so eagerly welcome them. He trembles.
"Mm, Mark." You're reaching down, underneath his arm and gripping his length, hot in your hand underneath the slinky material of his shorts. He twitches.
Suddenly his fingers are curling inside of you, and he begins to languidly pump them in and out of your sopping heat, on fire from his toes to the top of his head. You have to grip onto his shoulders, momentarily forgetting your previous endeavor of palming his dick.
He doesn't mind, not when you're whining like this, fingers digging into his skin, your body rocking against his while your walls hug and squeeze around his digits.
"Does it feel good?" He asks genuinley, but already knows the answer, too high off of this moment to not want his ego stroked. Your eyebrows are furrowed, lips kiss bitten, skin hot to the touch. You can barely make out an answer, and he swears all the blood in his body rushes straight to his dick.
"S-so good Markie - harder, please." You bury your face in the crook of his shoulder as tour thighs tremble around his narrow hips, lips trembling against his throat. He obliges you happily, anything to have you wilting against him like this. To hear more of the sounds you're making, for him.
Anyone outside the door would know whats going on, with the squelching of your wetness and the vigor in which he's fucking you with his fingers, heel of his palm nudging your clit with each thrust. You already feel that pit of pressure inside your belly expanding, so close to the brink of exploding.
He's fairing the same, if he's honest. You're rubbing up against the painful, throbbing boner in his bottoms, hidden behind only a thin layer of clothing. Your juices have leaked, leaving your own shorts wet at the crotch and the sight is erotic in a way that makes him buck up against you.
His free hand cups your face when he adds a third finger, pulling you from his shoulder to look at your face.
He damn near blows his load right then and there.
You look like you're on the verge of tears, not able to hold yourself up straight. A blush burns his skin, when you lean into his touch, fingers grasping at the front of his white tee.
"M'gonna cum soon Markie."
His heart threatens to explode from his chest when you turn your head and suck his thumb into your warm mouth, closing your eyes and bliss while his fingers pump into you, buried to the third knuckle.
This causes him to thrust into you with a sudden jolt, and the way his fingertips rub against the sweet spot deep inside of you, has the build up of pleasure finally spilling over like a broken dam.
The fingers on either of his hands are soaked now, one with your saliva and the other with your cum. You're gripping onto his wrists, letting him massage the inside of your walls while they contract around him, eyes rolled to the back of your head.
The sight, the feeling, is too much. You're a mess, a beautiful, sopping wet mess and without warning it's like a freight train is hitting him at full force, cock twitching willdy as pure bliss seeps through his pores.
You're still shivering, humping his hand while spurts of cum fill the inside of his shorts, dripping down the crease of his thigh and even soaking through the material a bit. Your eyes are barely able to open, but you will them to when you hear the almost imperceptible groan that strains from his throat when your heartbeat finally stops drumming so loudly in your ears.
Your belly lurches, skin tingly to the touch as he slumps against the headboard, peering up at you with more adoration than you can handle.
"I-I came in my pants." He breathes out, panting heavily alongside you. The thrill that runs down your spine like a tremor at the realization that he's cum, untouched, because of you, is what allows you to have half the mind to pull his fingers from your aching heat - replacing the others in your mouth.
His head lolls to the side, honey eyes trained on you like it’s impossible to look away while you suck your juices from his digits, humming around them. It's like he's staring up at the sun, mesmerized.
And then you're kissing him, and he's sure he's gone to heaven. He tastes you on the tip of your own tongue, and you're so sweet, so tender when you grasp his cheeks.
"I came in my pants too, by the way. Technically." You smile, and he chuckles warmly, giddy. His arms encapsulate you and he nudges the tip of your nose with his own.
The toy can have its fun, he thinks to himself. Because really, truly, nothing - and no one, will ever be as lucky and as enamored as he is with you.
#U KNOW WHAT TF GOIN ON#mark lee#mark lee x reader#mark lee x reader fluff#mark lee x reader smut#mark lee x reader scenario#mark lee smut#mark lee fluff#mark lee scenario#mark lee drabble#nct#nct x reader#nct 127 x reader#superm#superm x reader#nct smut#nct 127 smut#superm smut#nct mark x reader#nct 127 mark x reader#superm mark x reader#superm x reader smut#nct x reader smut#superm drabble#nct drabble#nct scenario#mark lee x reader drabble
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If you were editor of Nightwing's book ever since at least the start of Rebirth to today and you were given free reign, what would your story mandates?
Oh no, this is dangerous. LOL. Hmm, I have no idea what to shoot for here, so I'll try to keep it to ten. That's reasonable right? Ten is good. Yeah. Is fine.
Okay, so, in no particular order:
1) Let Dick be competent 101. None of this him having to play hype man for every other character to pop up in HIS title bullshit. Nope. That's not what they're there for. He's the lead man, LET HIM BE THE LEADING MAN. Like sure, everyone has their areas of expertise, he doesn't need or have to be the best at everything, blah blah blah.....but its about the nuance. All of that is kinda lip service because the thing is, you don't go into MOST comic books and NEED to be reminded of that because the lead characters of those books are all constantly getting saved or shown up or chastised by every guest star in their books, you know? This is a very weird, very niche phenomenon very specific to Dick's character, and I'm super over it. I'm here to read about the guy who has literally been doing this longer than most superheroes twice his age. The guy who's been doing this since before he hit double digits. The born acrobat. The destined ultimate warrior or whatever of Gotham's Ornithological Society Of Murder and Pretentiousness. Gimme that guy. And that guy doesn't need to be 'humbled' every other page, because the thing is, he's not some egomaniac to begin with so the everpresent need to humble him doesn't actually come off as humbling! It just comes off as pandering and not even to actual fans of the actual character, so its like.....wyd DC.
2) Let other people take responsibility for their own crap with Dick rather than always just expecting a mea culpa from him. I'm so unbelievably tired of the words I'm sorry from Dick. I love personal accountability, so I never thought I'd have to say this about a character, but enoooooough. They have made it completely in character for this dude to apologize to everyone ELSE for being brainwashed, getting amnesia, being KILLED, like.....the amount of things he's groveled for forgiveness for when he didn't actually do a damn thing wrong or worse yet, was the ACTUAL victim of is like....pretty damn staggering. And meanwhile, there's nary a peep of apology from the people who regularly insult or belittle him, get physically violent with him, take advantage of him or take him for granted, etc, etc, etc. Its entirely too one-sided and imbalanced, and the pendulum needs to swing the other direction, like YESTERDAY, and in a fairly big way, IMO.
3) None of this Baby's First Social Justice Awakening 101 crap. I'm sorry, but no. Especially not when you go out of your way to acknowledge that Dick is Romani, only to then turn around and act like he's only JUST had his eyes opened to an awareness of like, classism and poverty and the real struggles people face day to day? Sorry not sorry, but especially for other white writers out there, do not use people of color as self-inserts for dipping a toe into Learning To See Past Privilege. And especially when talking about a character who has a history of being actively abused and hurt by the system and institutions of power, or hell, even leaving out that particular origin story, who has still been out on the streets helping people since he was a literal child. You can not tell me that this is his first face to face experience with social issues, or the first time he's had the inclination to try and address those head on. (And its also particularly egregious that the people second-guessing Dick in his own title and giving him reality checks or acting like they have more of an awareness of all this than he does like, happen to all be white? OPTICS. LEARN ABOUT THEM. COMMON SENSE. GET SOME.)
Know what would actually be a better way to approach this? Flashbacks. Show us Dick running into situations that make him think back to a case when he was still Robin, when he and Batman had started fighting over their approaches to things, actually SHOW us those conflicts and how their viewpoints had started diverging, and how much of that was due to Dick not having the same experiences as Bruce, or the same standing in society, no matter what house he lived in. THEN you can jump BACK to the present, with the reminder/awareness that this is something that isn't NEWS to Dick, but that he in the past felt he was forced to make his peace with as something he wasn't in a position to do that much about....only NOW, he's in a very DIFFERENT position, and suddenly it just hits him how he's still acting like he did when he was limited in resources or in having to be part of a chain in command or having to factor other responsibilities into things....now he ACTUALLY has the power and the resources to make meaningful change in the ways he ALWAYS wanted to, but maybe just needed time to figure out HOW.
Like you know what would have made Shawn Tsang's story arc so much better? If Dick didn't just remember her as the Pigeon's one time teenage sidekick he'd briefly fought as a kid, but like.....if he remembered her as someone he and Bruce had FOUGHT about. Because he didn't agree with sending someone to juvie for defacing public property as a form of political protest, when it was someone's LIFE who was going to be irrevocably damaged by that while the damage to the city could be fixed with a check, and what made Dick any more deserving of Bruce's leniency and faith in his potential or underlying goodness than Shawn?
But he was still a kid himself back then, and when Bruce responded with his usual conviction, talking about the importance about rule of law and etc etc, Dick just didn't have the words to get through to him then, to get him to understand that this wasn't just Dick not getting it because he was too young, it was BRUCE not getting it, that Dick was literally just saying well he wasn't too young to have been in juvie himself, and of the two of them, he's the one who has experience there so why was Bruce's opinion on whether this was the punishment that fit the crime the one that got to hold more weight here? When Dick's the one who knows what that punishment actually LOOKS like beyond the abstract, for whom it was a reality that still haunts him in ways that even defacing a few statues of some rich old fucks doesn't deserve?
Or hell, go back FURTHER than when he was Robin. Idk where any of those posts are, but I've always wanted to see something where Dick maybe runs into someone he remembers from his time in juvie, maybe a guard who is like, the source of the reasons Dick mistrusts figures of authority and is so hung up on independence and not being under anyone's thumb, or maybe someone who was in there with him, another kid who looked out for him when he didn't have to, etc. Gimme Dick tackling head-on his firsthand awareness that there's no rehabilitation to be found in a jail for kids, when most of those kids don't even need rehabilitation in the first place and only did what they did in order to survive or escape from worse situations or like, were there purely because of racist cops, etc. Let him go after THAT system, driven by personal experiences and memories that maybe only hit him in full after recovering his memories from the Ric Grayson arc, like they're things that he put in a box in his mind a long, long time ago because he didn't have the spoons or reserves to deal with them when he was a kid still so traumatized in so many ways, like, something had to give and so he put all those memories away for another day and just....never got back to them because life kept hitting him with new and fresh trauma every week.
But now something has him thinking back to those early days in Gotham, and reminding him that not everyone had a Bruce Wayne willing and able to give them an out from that place or acrobatic skills to escape it on their own, and like. You want to do something about the cycles of violence in Gotham and Bludhaven? Why not start with the places that literally MANUFACTURE cruelty on an institutional level, that teach kids that no matter what they did to get put there, even if that was nothing at all, they're all going to be treated the same way and given no reason NOT to do whatever it took to be top dog in a dog eat dog world by the time they got out.
There's SO many better approaches to social awareness in the Batbooks than what we're seeing, and like. Sheesh. The bar is way too low.
4) On a related note, if I'm editor of the Nightwing book, the FIRST thing I'm doing is making it a priority to find a writer of color for that book, ideally someone of Rom descent. Its waaaaay past time to let a Romani writer take the reins on Dick, Wanda, Pietro or Doom, aka some of the only prominent Romani characters out there? You can't tell me that there aren't talented writers who identify as Roma who would be more than willing to add their perspective to Dick's archive of narratives, and if an editor's gotta go looking for them? Go fucking look. DC and its fans have milked a lot of mileage out of the idea of Dick being Romani with very little in the way of nuanced storytelling to show for it in the past twenty years, and if DC wants to trot out little reminders that Dick is Romani every couple years, like in the form of a freaking line that has no follow up or expansion to any degree and is offset by an internal monologue that otherwise reads as incredibly privileged, the least they can do is TRY to expand on that with the narrative perspective of someone they claim to be representing via that character.
And no, this isn't gatekeeping, this is prioritizing. Its not about preventing other writers from writing this character, like just for the hell of it, its about being proactive about finding a writer who can write specific aspects of this character that have long gone unaddressed or poorly represented. And like. Okay. Its not easy breaking into the comics industry for anyone, but its particularly not easy for marginalized writers. Most every major comic book company just recites 'make your own stuff first and then show us that' but when you're a writer specifically, finding a compatible artist to partner with on creator-owned indie stuff first, when those artists are in the same position as you are and apologetically and understandably tend to have to take paying work over yours if you can't pay except on the back end, like....there are a lot of hurdles to getting your start in comic books, and while there are more and more marginalized writers in comics these days, DC and Marvel kinda fucked up, because you know what?
After being told 'make your own first, then we'll talk,' writers DID do just that....but then found out that well, due to the ease of online distribution and access these days, for any writers who CAN find an artist to partner with, its a hell of a lot easier to get their content out there these days WITHOUT a major publisher behind them.....and for a lot of marginalized writers in particular, its worth it to keep full creative control in exchange for smaller circulation. Especially when they don't have to deal with editors 'softening' their work to make it more palatable for audiences that quite frankly aren't necessarily their primary target. So yeah, marginalized voices are becoming more and more present in comics, but Marvel and DC for the most part are keeping the same voices centered they always have, and what these voices have to say is becoming less and less relevant and outdated. Because much like this arc from Taylor, even when they DO dip their toes into story matter that's of interest to wider audiences, they're doing so to a degree that still puts them years behind the conversations everyone else is having.
5) The same holds true of disability representation. I stopped reading Taylor's run for a lot of reasons but his way of responding to people unhappy with his depiction of Babs was a key one. If I'm editor on a book, and someone tweets at one of my writers that their depiction of a disabled character was hurtful because it feels like they're doubling back on everything Babs has ever said about not being defined by or ashamed of her disability and now its being treated like a dirty little secret, and that writer's response is essentially to just laugh at them and say there's nothing wrong or ableist about their writing of a disabled person, TO a concerned disabled person? That writer's ass is getting fired. Full stop.
Either you give a shit about this stuff or you don't. Don't pay your readers lip service about how important social issues are to you and how much you care about using superhero narratives to inspire people on these matters if you're gonna turn around and show your ass the second you don't feel comfortable and prioritized by the conversation, like it wouldn't exist without your oh so valuable contributions. ESPECIALLY if you don't identify as sharing the same identity of the marginalized character you're writing. You are a guest in someone else's lived experiences at that point, and you think you've got the right to belittle and talk down to the people who LIVE THERE? Fuck off, my dude.
6) Re-center Dick as someone who the superhero community RESPECTS. I love seeing Dick depicted as someone who has an awareness of his own limitations and an appreciation for what others bring to the table, and so I'm not opposed to him calling on others when he needs to.....but I also would like to see more of the opposite. But not in the way we usually see it these days, where he's asked to come help with a crisis and then usually second-guessed the whole way, and then sent back home without so much as a thank you when its done. Yawn. Sorry. I've read that story by now.
You know what story arc I freaking LOVED as a kid, back in the 90s? In Green Lantern, when Kyle Rayner first became the sole GL, one of his very early arcs, before he ever joined the JLA or anything....was him realizing how little he knew about being a superhero. He was like, my predecessors all had a full fledged CORPS to teach them everything they needed to know, but I had a few lines of exposition from a funny little blue guy in a red pillowcase and then I was off to the races. That's not good enough. There's so much I don't know about being a hero, I don't even KNOW what I still need to know.
So he went on kinda a superhero training roadtrip. He went to Metropolis to ask Superman for advice, he went to Batman to learn from Batman and Robin (Tim at the time). He went to Wonder Woman, Sentinel (Alan Scott, the first Green Lantern), etc, etc. And in the end, Kyle very much became his own kind of hero who wasn't just a pastiche of all those other heroes and the advice they gave him, but like....this put him on the road to that.
And I'd love to see something like that happen in Dick's solo title. We've seen him train in a team setting, we've seen him train the other Robins.....I'd love to see like, young superheroes from OTHER books, not ones created by the title, but like names people actually recognize from other franchises, like, guest star in Nightwing's book to learn from HIM, specifically. I wanna see something where Wally looks at the latest speedster and is like, you know what, if you really wanna be the best hero you can possibly be, then Nightwing's who you gotta go to, because there's no one I trust to make a better hero out of someone than him. I want the newest kid on the JLA block to worry that people aren't taking him seriously because of his age or experience, and he's always hearing them talk about Nightwing and how young he was when he started and so if anyone knows something about how to gain the respect of your older superhero peers, that's the guy to talk to.
Gimme Dick's couch being crashed on at various times by a half dozen new or upcoming young superheroes who all heard or figured out that if they really want to up their superhero game, Nightwing's the guy to see.
7) Bring back Bea. There's no long paragraph expansion on this, its really simply. Bring back Bea. She was one of the freshest breaths of air in Dick's supporting cast in ages, most of the current run is based off her character direction in the first place, she's literally the best suited TO help Dick in this venture, and the reasons they gave for writing her out of Dick's life were all bullshit and they just wanted to focus on his previous relationships, which would be fine if they didn't fall into the same two endless cycles of bring back up, go nowhere with, awkwardly avoid each other for years, rinse and repeat. Like. Bring back Bea, please and thank you, the end.
8) Focus on new villains. Heartless is meh, but the idea of new villains is still better IMO than rehashing Blockbuster, Zucco, etc. Like, nostaglia ain't it. If I want to read Blockbuster fucking up Dick's life, I can do that. They're called back issues. The thing is, love it or hate it, the Blockbuster arc WAS iconic. It left its mark. And anything that doesn't leave just as much of a mark, if they're going to bring him up again, is just gonna be a waste of time, you know? It'll just dilute his overall presence when like, what he was - worked fine as is. We don't need Round Two.
The trick to good villains, IMO, is they have to speak to a fight that needs fighting.
What I mean by that is....the best villains are those who resonate on a more instinctive level because they embody something that already exists in a reader's mind as a conflict that needs fighting. Like, if superheroes exist, if the embodiment of larger than life presences and forces devoted to protecting the world from various things are real....then their villains need to embody the kinds of fights or conflicts that NEED larger than life figures to combat them, at least on a one to one level.
Look at Superman and Lex Luthor. Superman at his core embodies the strength of community. He's the ultimate hero of the people, his essence is that he was the last survivor of a doomed race who was raised by two honest, hard working people to see the beauty in just being ONE of them, in using what he had on behalf of all of them and not just himself. In contrast, Lex Luthor is basically the embodiment of capitalist greed, of excess, of the entitlement of being able to have anything with a snap of your fingers and thus assuming that gives you divine mandate to make the kinds of choices that he sees as only his right to make.
He hates Superman, ultimately, because Superman is the WRONG savior of the people. He wants their only savior to be HIM, half the time he honestly believes he's saving the world FROM Superman, but just as often he's perfectly content to be the villain and not shy about it....because Lex Luthor's ultimate motivation is he wants everyone to know when he's dead and gone that LEX LUTHOR WAS HERE. He genuinely doesn't care WHAT his impact or legacy is at the end of the day, just that it exists and it overshadows most everything else...because all that really matters to him is the irrefutable proof that HE mattered. And thus at their cores, Superman and Lex are perfectly opposed. Ideally situated to eternally be in conflict, their own forever war, because their core natures are incompatible. They CAN'T compromise, without compromising themselves and essentially ending up as someone totally other than who and what they are already.
And you can go down the list. The Joker is the chaos to Batman's order, while Mr. Freeze is the stagnancy of that order taken too far, he's what you get when you freeze everything in your grief and refuse to let anything go on, anything new grow, because that would mean having to admit once and for all that what you're mourning is really gone. Two-Face is the ultimate embodiment of Man vs Self, a once good man at war with his own worse nature, and reminding everyone who looks at him how easily they could fall to the same fate.
And so on and so on. What Dick needs, is more of the same. Like, as much as I'm not a huge fan of Talon stories, I maintain that the Court of Owls were a great foil for him - just they tend to be poorly used in canon as well. But I also think how poorly they come off in canon has a lot to do with canon not really touching on WHY they're such a perfect foil for Dick....and that's Dick's history with being outside the system, mistreated and even exploited by the system. Because the Court, their core concept, is they ARE the system. They are entrenched, enfranchised, institutional power, passed down through generations, dynastic control that is a perfect counterpart to the dynastic power of the Wayne family, embodied in its youngest generation in the form of Bruce's FOUND family, the children he adopted regardless of whether or not his peers found them deserving of that honor. The Court, and their entire....thing...about the Gray Son, is the entitled fury of those denied something they deem theirs simply because they WANT it, and who will burn the whole world down rather than admit defeat or let someone else have it instead.
And that resonates. It could resonate a lot MORE if DC would actually lean into those concepts and allow Dick to explore how the Court are nothing he's not used to, they're literally made up of the same people who have looked down on him ever since he came to Gotham, but now they're actually a face and a name put to all those attitudes, something he can literally FIGHT BACK AGAINST. The Court are literally human-sized embodiments of everything and everyone who's tried to confine Dick since his parents' deaths, tried to define him without his permission, tried to make him other or lesser than who and what he is.....and who thus now exist in a form that Dick can literally BATTLE. So that he doesn't HAVE to just take this stuff lying down.
Thanks to the Court, he doesn't HAVE to just passively accept it, that this is just how life is, that some people are going to view him this way and think this about him and there's nothing he can do about it. He CAN do something about it, in superhero stories. He can kick its ASS, in the form of the Court of Owls and everything its members think about him and intend for him. He can refuse to bow down to them, to accept their mark on him. He can say lol, no, and then blow their shit sky high, ideally with a little help from his family. He can BEAT them, in this incarnated form, and in doing so, even though he can't beat everything they stand for and represent, that victory still matters, still means something symbolic to readers it resonates with.
And that's what we need more of. Villains created specifically to embody concepts that are diametrically opposed to Dick and what he represents. The system, yes, but also villains who embody the kind of tyranny and control he fights back against in his constant battles for autonomy and self control. Villains who embody the 'new hopes' of a second generation just like Dick himself is the focal point of the hopes embodied by the second generation of heroes. I'm actually not the hugest fan of multiversal constant Dick Grayson, but I might like it more if he had an opposite number there, someone he was specifically contrasted with. Idk.
But you get it.
9) Dick having a social life. Gimme the Titans and his siblings showing up JUST to show up. We have room enough for at least a couple pages every other issue where we just get to see these characters having some breathing room, taking a beat to stop and be something other than just a superhero, to be human as well. There's more to life than 24/7 fighting, even for them, and that's largely been lost in modern superhero comics, which kinda sucks, because that was what made most of the more iconic and lasting dynamics between various characters like, STAND the test of time. The larger than life battles between good and evil might be what many of us come to superhero comics FOR, but the relatable back-and-forths and ups and downs of their private lives spent with friends and family tends to be what keeps most of us coming BACK. And lately its all just mission, mission, mission, and I'm like blah, blah, blah and its like, meh, meh, meh. Y'know? Give the guy some down time, and let his friends come spend it with him.
10) Boone. This is purely self-indulgent, but if you know anything about me, you know my obsession with Robin: Year One, Dick's brief time at Vengeance Academy, and the hate/hate relationship he has with his brief frenemy from that period, Boone aka Shrike. This character has SOOOOO much potential to be Dick's true archnemesis and rival, and like. *Sobs* I can't get into it all again. Its too much. I can't do it.
Okay, I absolutely can. And will, probably. But like. Later.
BONUS ROUND:
Other thing I would absolutely insist upon if I were Nightwing editor....
GET THAT FUCKING MEME SHIRT ABOUT BRUCE SLAPPING DICK THE FUCK OUTTA HERE.
Like. Seriously. WHAT THE HELL. Why would you double down on THAT? Why is Babs STILL wearing it? (Last I checked, like I think I saw it in a scan from last issue? I'm pretty sure its still there? If not, forget this entire rant, and I am very embarrassed. Okay not that embarrassed. I don't really care if I'm wrong here but like, in case I'm not)...
WHY. Who thought that was funny? No, seriously, on behalf of any other abuse survivors who like me are SERIOUSLY not amused, who the FUCK thinks its FUNNY to have one of Dick's best friends sporting a shirt that no matter what it represents IN universe, to readers OUT of universe, is always going to call to mind the fact that this meme only freaking EXISTS because of all the times DC has obliviously and without acknowledgment written Bruce abusing his children, including the BFF that Babs is literally wearing that right in front of.
Like omg do you hate her, DC? What other possible reason could you have for thinking that would be a cute, funny thing for her to wear around the guy getting SLAPPED, by his DAD, in your shirt's iconography.
Okay I'm done.
LOL.
Sorry, that last one was brewing for awhile. Deep breaths. Woo.
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Only One Choice, Part 2, Chapter 6
Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic
“I still think you should wear the blue one,” Missy says from her spot lying on Dana’s bed, having long ago tired of the lengthy debate over what she should wear for her date with Mulder.
It’s now 5:30 and while her hair and makeup have been meticulously complete for over an hour, she’s found herself unable to decide on a dress.
“I was wearing that when Ethan proposed to me, Missy. It’s tainted,” she replies with a glare, alternately holding up a red dress that hits just above the knee and has spaghetti straps, and a black one that is ankle length and has a halter top.
Missy rolls onto her side with an exasperated sigh. “It’s just a dress, Dana. And the man is already in love with you, I doubt he cares that much about what you’re wearing. You’re overthinking it, Sis. Though I think I do have some sage in my bag if you want me to smudge it,” she adds helpfully.
Dana gives her sister a pleading look.
“Fine. Wear the red one,” she acquiesces, moving to sit up. “I better get out of here before he shows up,” she says, and the second the words leave her mouth they hear a soft rapping on the door. They look at each other, Dana still in her bra panties, and then Missy stands. “I’ll let him in, you get dressed.”
Missy pulls the bedroom door closed behind her and answers just as Mulder knocks for a second time. He gives her a quizzical look and turns to check the number on the apartment.
“You’ve got the right one, I’m Dana’s sister, Melissa. We met once,” Missy says as she extends her hand.
Mulder takes it, nodding with recognition. “Right, I remember. Uh, is Scully, I mean Dana, here?”
Missy gives him a sympathetic frown. “No, I’m sorry. She changed her mind.”
Mulder’s expression falls until he hears Scully call out from behind her “Missy, don’t be a jerk!”
She crosses the living room, pausing by the couch to pull a shoe the rest of the way over her heel, and then arrives in the doorway. Mulder is dressed in a black suit and crisp white shirt, his dark grey tie patterned with little triangles. His hair looks freshly cut, barely long enough to run your fingers through, and he’s holding a small bouquet of flowers. He looks delicious.
“I think that’s my cue to leave,” Missy says with a mischievous smile, grabbing her satchel from the dining room table and slipping past Mulder out the open door. “You two kids have fun,” she calls over her shoulder.
Dana rolls her eyes at her sister's remark, then turns to see Mulder staring at her with an oddly intense expression, his lips slightly parted.
“What?” she asks with genuine concern, looking down at her dress to make sure nothing is out of place.
He shakes his head gently as if pulling himself from a reverie. “You look...you look incredible. I mean you always look incredible but now that I’m allowed to tell you that you look incredible…” he drags his eyes down to her shoes and back up to her face where he finds a soft smile on her lips. “You’re so beautiful,” he completes.
She looks away sheepishly, pressing her lips together to hide the grin that it would feel too conceited to let show. “Thank you,” she says quietly, then meets his eye. “You look very handsome yourself.”
They look at each other for a beat, and she can tell he wants to kiss her. She wonders if he will, and if she should let him. They’ve already done much more than kiss, but everything still feels so new. Starting over indeed.
“Oh, these are for you,” he blurts out, breaking the tension as he offers her the flowers.
“Thank you, they’re beautiful,” she replies, taking them and going to the kitchen for a vase. She can sense his eyes on her back as she fills it with water then sets it on the table. She feels a little tingle in response, one she hasn’t felt in a very, very long time. “Shall we?” she asks as she grabs a sweater from the closet, avoiding his eye lest she throw him down on her sofa and never make it to dinner at all.
He steps just outside the door into the hall, so close as she locks it behind them that she can smell his aftershave. When they turn to leave, his hand drifts to rest on her lower back and it sends a little shockwave through her, and a flush of warmth between her thighs. Knowing that they can actually do all the things she’s imagined is exciting and scary, and she wonders how long she can wait. Wonders how long she wants to.
———
He steals glances at every stoplight or stretch of straight road, basically any chance he gets to look away without causing an accident, to take in the stunning beauty in the passenger seat beside him. That little red dress hugs her curves in all the right places, the pale swell of her breasts peeking out and rising gently with each breath. He shifts in his seat, willing his dick to behave and not make him look like a sex crazed lunatic. Though he is pretty sex starved, so it wouldn’t be an entirely untrue assessment. Every bit of self control he’d mustered when they spent time together last year has worn thin, and though he knows that she is no longer off-limits, that doesn’t mean she’s ready to get physical. He would have waited forever for her, so what’s a few more days, or weeks. Months? He really hopes it’s not months.
They pull up in front of the restaurant and he jogs around to the passenger side to open the door for her before the valet can get there. She gives him a shy little smile when he offers his hand to help her out of the car, pulling her to stand in the small space between himself and the doorframe so that the front of their bodies are nearly flush. She tilts her face up towards him, her tall shoes still only bringing her to his shoulder. He lets his eyes fall to her mouth, which is bare of any lipstick but naturally pink and pouty. He could kiss her now and not smudge anything at all.
“Sir?” the valet interrupts, holding out his hand in request of the keys.
The spell broken, he gives over the keys and takes Scully’s hand, her slim fingers threading between his own as her thumb brushes against his palm, a secret acknowledgement of the moment they shared. He smiles to himself as he leads her to the front doors of Marcel’s, looking over to see her curious appraisal of the venue. She clearly hasn’t been here before, which makes him happy. They are led by the host to a small table near the window draped in white linens and she gives him a skeptical glance as he pulls out her chair.
“Are you always this chivalrous? Don’t set expectations you can’t live up to, Mulder.”
He chuffs a laugh. “I actually am, it’s not an act. I was raised in a very upscale, old money environment. I can also tell you which fork to use for each course, if you’re interested.”
She lifts her eyebrows in surprise, watching him curiously as he takes the seat beside her, not across. He doesn’t want an entire table between them.
“Really? Where was that?”
“Martha’s Vineyard,” he answers plainly, not ever wanting that to sound like something he’s bragging about. “What about you, where are you from?” He changes the subject as quickly as possible.
She makes a face. “Nowhere in particular. I was born in Annapolis but my father was in the Navy so we moved a lot. The place he was stationed the longest was San Diego so that area feels just a little bit like home, but we’ve also spent quite a bit of time on the East Coast. We lived in Japan for a bit when I was a baby, but I don’t remember it.”
The waiter comes by to take their drink orders and Mulder orders a bottle of red he assumes they’ll have without looking at the menu. He watches out of the corner of his eye as Scully opens her menu and her eyes expand in shock. She closes it quietly and waits for the waiter to leave before leaning towards him.
“Mulder,” she says very seriously, as though she’s about to deliver devastating news, “that bottle of wine is three hundred dollars.”
He leans further towards her so their foreheads nearly touch. “Scully,” he says in an equally serious tone, “I warned you I was going to go overboard.”
He watches her try to suppress a surprised smile as she leans back, eyeing him appraisingly. “You’re quite the enigma, Mulder. With your fancy country club upbringing and expensive taste in wine in contrast to aliens and worn down bachelor pads.”
“Worn down?” he says in mock offense, “Priscilla will be horrified to hear that you said that.” The full-toothed smile he gets in response makes his heart swell, even if he suspects it has more to do with the mention of Priscilla than his winning sense of humor.
Wine and water are delivered, and Scully tries to order the cheapest thing on the menu before he insists that she wants the surf and turf and she acquiesces with a pained look.
“I think you’ve mischaracterized who among us is the enigma, Scully,” he picks up after their menus are collected. “I’m not sure I’ve ever encountered another Navy brat brainiac babe who cuts up dead people for a living.”
“Really?” she asks, eyebrows furrowed as though this is surprising to hear. “I’ll have to invite you to our next chapter meeting.”
“You’re also funny, add that to your list of enigmatic qualities,” he retorts, and she shrugs demurely. “Speaking of enigmas, there was a case I did a little poking around on, about some suspicious deaths in a community of carnies. There was a sideshow act where a man who was tattooed head to toe in jigsaw puzzle pieces ate live animals. He was sometimes called The Conundrum, and other times he went by The Enigma.”
Her eyes light up at the mention of his old work. “Was this an x file?” she asks excitedly.
“Not technically, no. This was just a couple years ago so the files were closed, but every now and then I get a lead and take some time off work to run it down.”
Scully looks a little disappointed. “Have you ever tried to have the X files reopened?” she asks, taking a sip of her wine and making a little expression that he takes as her being impressed.
“Sure, especially at first. The people at the heart of these government-run conspiracies don’t want the files open again, but the main reason bureau leadership gives for now is that I don’t have a partner, and they won’t let me work on them alone.”
“Couldn't they just assign you a partner? I’m not a field agent, but I was under the impression they somewhat randomly pair people off.”
He smiles sheepishly. “In theory, yes. But I haven’t had much success with the partners I’ve been assigned in the past. One might say that I don’t play well with others.”
“I find that hard to believe,” she says with a skeptical look, “you strike me as fairly easy to get along with.”
“Maybe so, Scully, but there’s a significant difference you’re omitting,” he leans forward and lets the tips of his fingers brush her bare knee. “I like you.”
There’s that million dollar grin again. This night is going so much better than he possibly could have hoped.
———
She could not have possibly imagined how good it would feel to be with him and truly be with him. No boundaries, no barriers, no lines to walk between what’s acceptable for ‘just friends.’ They openly flirt and smile at each other all through dinner, casually touching an arm or a leg, holding hands briefly a few times. She feels like a giddy schoolgirl and can’t recall the last time she felt this happy. So when the waiter collects their dessert plates and drops off the bill, she feels a little wave of sadness that the night is coming to an end.
She knows that if she invites him to come up to her apartment, he will say yes. And she knows that if she does that, they will end up having sex. She would very, very much like to have sex with him. But she’s also worried that she’s rushing things and potentially ignoring possible red flags or other signs that they might not be compatible because she wants this to work so badly. She decides she’s not going to invite him up.
They stand on the curb outside Marcel’s, waiting for the valet to bring the car around, and she crosses her arms and shivers against the cool evening air. Mulder notices and slides his arm around her shoulders, rubbing his palm briskly over her upper arm. Not satisfied that he’s done enough, he then moves to stand behind her and opens his suit jacket, pressing his chest to her back as he wraps the jacket around her, folding them both up inside it. He’s warm and firm and she lets her weight rest against him, the back of her head tucked into the crook of his neck. She sighs contentedly, feeling safe and cared for. It’s a feeling she’s really missed, being single.
On the short drive back to her apartment, he slips his hand over the console to rest on the seat next to her, an invitation, and she presses her palm against his, feeling the ache of missing him before he’s even gone. He pulls up to the curb in front of her building and they don’t let go, looking at each other in the dim glow of the street lights.
“Can I walk you to your door?” he asks, and she feels a mischievous smile creep over her lips. She nods.
They walk slowly, hand in hand, through the front doors and up the elevator. When they arrive at her door, she unlocks but doesn’t open it, leaning her back against the frame instead.
“I had a really nice time, Mulder. Thank you,” she says, her gaze lingering on his hooded green eyes and that full bottom lip.
“Me too,” he replies with a shy smile, stepping forward and placing his fingertips cautiously on her hips.
Her pelvis tips toward him unconsciously, seeking out the contact she has every intention of denying herself for now.
“Can I...would it be okay if I kissed you?” he asks, his eyes on her mouth. She opens it reflexively, tilting her chin up further.
He seems to take that as his answer, dipping his head to meet her at her level, and the pillowy press of his mouth against hers feels like such a relief she sighs audibly. His fingers on her hips press more firmly in response, pulling her gently towards him, closer still. She puts her hands on his forearms and slides them up until her fingers are gently scraping through the hair at the nape of his neck, and she feels his tongue slip out to taste hers. One of his hands leaves her hip and she feels it flutter over the side of her neck, cupping her jaw gently as they kiss slowly, languidly, like they have all the time in the world. His thumb brushes over the front of her throat and it somehow feels more intimate than if he were touching her in a more private place. To touch her in a vulnerable spot, one that can hurt and even kill someone, but to do it so tenderly feels erotic and exciting, and she takes his lip between her teeth and bites down gently to encourage him. He emits a little groan and arches his pelvis towards her, the stiff ridge of his erection grazing her belly.
“Mulder,” she says between kisses.
“Mmmmm,” he says in response, brushing his lips over the corner of her mouth.
“I don’t...I think….we should probably say goodnight.”
He makes a little sound somewhere between a whine and a sigh, but pulls away from her.
“I just...I don’t want to rush this,” she says earnestly, holding both his hands in hers. “I want to do things right this time.”
He nods, pulling her into an embrace. She has that feeling again, like she could crawl inside his chest cavity and make a home there, though this time it’s accessorized with an erection pressed against her.
“Sorry about that,” he says without embarrassment, and she laughs.
“I’ll take it as a compliment,” she replies, pulling away and reaching for the doorknob.
“You really, really, should,” he retorts, and she opens the door, backing in slowly. Once she is fully inside and looking at him through the slim crack she’s wedged herself into as though she were trying to keep him out, he leans forward so his face is inches from hers. “One for the road?” he asks hopefully, and she nods.
He presses his mouth against hers, chastely, no tongue, and holds it there for a very long time. Long enough that she starts to feel her resolve cracking. She pulls away.
“Goodnight, Mulder,” she says in a sing-song voice, and he backs away from the door with a dopey smile.
“Night, Scully,” he replies, not leaving until after she closes the door. She knows because she watches him through the peephole as he stands there smiling like a fool before looking up and possibly thanking the gods. Finally, he leaves.
Goodnight indeed. It was such a good night.
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Bruno Headcanons x Reader SFW + NSFW
Anon_From_Hell on AO3 said: “Okay I have several.... not request but more of ideas? Feel free to use them or ignore them. Jotaro being topped by reader? With dick or a strap? Bruno! Bruno headcanons.”
I have had a bit of this written since I started this blog, I just never had enough to it, so I’m glad someone asked for this because Bruno is one of my favourite characters and he deserves the world.
Link to the Bottom!Jotaro here
Have a character, but no idea? Prompt list here!
Looking for more? Master post here!
WARNINGS: Light mentions of protectiveness, gentle Bruno for the most part, dates to the museum, restaurant dates, descriptions of dicks, fingering, mentions of shibari or tying partners up, eating ass, eating pussy, oral in general, spit roast, stand fucking, breeding, pregnancy kink, pegging/fucking Bruno, praise kink (giving), spanking, public sex, sexting.
Word Count: 2387
SFW
Where do I start? He’s a gentleman, of course, especially when he first meets you. He’s not very obvious with his crush on you, but a few can notice that his stare lingers just a little bit longer than usual and his hand hovers in the air for a millisecond after you’ve touched it during an exchange.
Bruno is hesitant to start a relationship with you. His line of work is dangerous, both of you know this, but he really does not want you to get caught up in something you shouldn’t be. It would take a lot of coaxing from you and from members of the group to push him into being comfortable with it.
Once he does, he’s exceptionally gentle, lightly brushing his hand against yours while you’re walking together before grabbing. During conversations, he’ll put his hand on your back. He won’t show it, but he’s ecstatic about having someone to touch; someone to smile at him with romantic love, not just the usual respectful ones he gets from strangers or gang members. Sweet smiles. It makes him feel so loved.
He is so protective of you. He knows his boys can be a little on the rougher side, so he’s made sure they will all treat you with the utmost respect. Especially when he’s around.
I can’t see him lashing out at you unless you do something really stupid like getting yourself hurt or saying something that sets him off which usually only happens when he’s exhausted. Remind him that you don’t deserve to be yelled at or apologize and he’ll usually do the same. But, for the most part, he’s very relaxed with you.
He’s a busy man, but he schedules everything he does in his day down to the minute. Bruno is impeccable with his organization. He’ll always make sure he has time for you, even if it means pushing things around and bending the rules a bit. He wants to make sure you know that he’s there. He may be busy, but he will always have time for you.
For some reason, I can see him taking you to art galleries or museums for dates. Holding your hand while the two of you walk around admiring the different pieces. If you know anything about something he will gladly listen! Patiently watching you light up about the cute trollop fossil or how beautifully that flower is in that kind of paint and how you would have done this or that to add to it.
Of course, Bruno will also take you on romantic dates to restaurants overlooking the canal with some of the best food you have ever had, but I think he prefers dates that keep you physically close to him, where he can hold your hand instead of sitting across from you.
He also buys you jewelry, fancy clothes and perfume/cologne. Nothing too over the top, but subtle things that have more meaning to them than flashiness. He’s more likely to get a simple ring with 2 or 3 smaller stones than a giant one that screams attention.
He pays extra attention to the things you look at in stores and has mastered what your “oh, that’s nice” face looks like compared to your “I need to have this, but-” face and will buy whatever you really wanted behind your back, giving them to you as a gift later on when you’ve forgotten about it.
Further into the relationship when you two have moved in, he’ll often wrap his arms around you while you’re cooking, resting his head on your shoulder, or on your back if you’re taller, leaving light butterfly kisses where ever his face is.
I think out of all the adults in Bucci Gang, he’s the most likely to help you with dinner without having to be prompted. Bruno has a sixth sense for when you need him to help, suddenly popping up beside you and cutting vegetables or stirring the pot, giving you a sweet knowing smile whenever you look over. Though, on the weekends, he’s more likely to produce a glass of wine for the two of you while you cook which leads to someone getting tipsier than the other and being kicked out of the kitchen because they’ve knocked over their glass one too many times.
When you’re on the couch, he’ll call you over into his arms or sometimes just pull you into him. He prefers reading a nice book to watching a movie but will sit with you, book in one hand while his other hand plays with your hair or rubs your back.
Oh, and don’t even get me started on baths together. He installed what is essentially a jacuzzi in your bathroom just so the two of you would have room to be comfortable. Now, the only time you take baths is when you’re together.
Please give this man a massage. He is very stressed and tense, he needs someone to treat him with the same tenderness he gives you. Bruno isn’t one to melt, but he will relax considerably. He’s just more into making you feel good than himself feeling good.
Bruno’s kisses are so sweet. I don’t know how else to describe them. It’s like every ounce of his love and care towards you is put into a spell, which is then put onto his lips and then onto your lips. You never get tired of it. He’s not overly kissy in public, mostly just pecks on the cheek or your hand. In private though, he’s a little more relaxed.
Favourite places to kiss are usually your lips or neck and shoulder, which often leaves goosebumps down your back and sometimes other things. I honestly don’t think he’s that much into sex. Like, he’ll do it (and well) but I think romance and companionship are more important to him than anything else. If he can trust you, why does he need to do anything else? Your love is more than enough for him.
NSFW
6 1/2″, 2″ thick and pretty. His dick is just... pretty, like the rest of him. I think clean-shaven, uncut maybe?
Alright, look, he’s stand isn’t called Sticky Fingers for no reason. Bruno has been blessed with the magic that is fingering. Just knows exactly where to curl into, where to push, where to pull, swirl, rub, you name it! If you have a vagina he will make you cum multiple times before he fucks you. You know what? Even if you have a dick, he’ll probably do the same. OR he’ll get you really close and then deny, deny, deny. He loves making you writhe and squirm.
If he makes you cry, he’s a little concerned, but deep down he’s proud of himself. Will always ask you if you’re okay and if you want to continue unless you have already established you’re okay with him making you a complete mess. Maybe he’ll even ask you to wear eyeliner or mascara just to make it run!
This man eats pussy/ass like it’s his last meal. Oral in general is one of his favourite things to do to a partner because he can control it and clearly tell how much you’re enjoying something.
Will 1000% tie you up or use Sticky Fingers to keep you from moving too much. Loves to see you wrapped up in red ropes or silk, unable to move or think because of how much he’s teasing you.
On his more relaxed days, he’ll just use his hands to hold you down or guilt you into staying still. “You want to be good for me, right, cara/caro?”
He loves it when you lose control and clamp (or try to) your legs around him. When you grab his hair and lurch forward to try and encourage him to do more; give you more, but he never does. Not until he wants to.
Oof, but his favourite guilty pleasure? Spit roast with Sticky Fingers. SF eating you out while you try to focus on taking Bruno’s cock in your mouth. Oh, to have you sandwiched in between him and his stand. He would kill to keep you there forever; fucking in and out of you like a seesaw or forcing you to do it yourself.
Bruno bit his finger to try and keep composure as your eyes rolled back into your head, mouth agape on his length. You looked so pretty like this; visibly fucked out of your mind with his hands tangled in your mess of hair. Sticky Fingers had been lapping over your now soaking wet hole and clit for what felt like ages. Keeping you just on edge. You couldn’t decide what you wanted more, to please Bruno or cum before he wanted you to.
Sticky Fingers pulled you closer to it’s lips while Bruno thrust his hips forward into the warmth of your mouth, eyelids fluttering as you moaned around him. After a few more minutes, he decided he’d give you your reward finally.
“Turn around, dolcezza. Come here.” You less than gracefully turned around, feeling some sort of way about not having the constant feeling of his stand on you. Bruno grabs your hips and pulls you onto his aching cock. Both of you moan with the new feeling. “Now, just stay nice and still for me, I’ll take care of you, don’t worry.”
Can we say breeding kink? Yes, yes we can. We all know he’s nasty. He loves filling you up, feeling his seed drip out of you, cleaning it out of you with his tongue. Fucking anything. And if he does get you pregnant? (Assuming there would be no repercussions with the whole mafia thing) He would 100% take the best care of you. Bruno would massage every bit of you, giving you nice soothing baths (I mean, he’d do that anyway, but he’d put extra care into your baths when you were pregnant.)
No matter what size your baby bump was, he would kiss it every moment he got. He’d sing songs to it or read it stories (which you would be more than happy about because that voice).
The thought of you expanding with something the two of you created is so hot to him. Bruno would keep you like that forever if he could. Oh, and the feeling of him inside of you while you’re so full. Oh. He’s drooling. Just looking down on your nice, round belly and then pounding into you. *chefs kiss.* We stan breeding kink Bruno.
Oh, but let’s turn the tables. Fucking his ass. Oooooh, hell yeah. Slowly pressing into him while tying his hands behind his back or above his head. It makes me feel so many things.
I think he likes to stay on the dominant side with a vagina-having S/O, so he’d likely flip the tables if you allow him to. If you are into being more dominant, he is more than happy to stay under you (figuratively and literally.)
On his more relaxed days, or on days when you’re feeling a little down on yourself, expect SO much praise from this man in the bedroom. He’s gonna kiss every inch of you, caress you. This man will do everything to make you feel better about yourself.
Spanking. Would you let this man smack your ass? I would. On his more stern days, he will 100% flip you over his knee and make you count. If you’re into being on top, though, smack his ass. The biggest blush will sprawl across his face. Oh, and then making him count. God, he gets so loud!
A loud crack on your ass echoed throughout the room. You gripped the pillow in front of you, burying your face in the plush thing to quiet your moans. Bruno tutted above you.
“You have to count, dear.” His voice was stern and threatening. “Count with my, (Y/N).”
You poked your head up from the pillow, whimpering. Suddenly, the pillow was pulled away from you and his arm reached across to the opposite shoulder, holding you up. Another smack.
“One.”
You whimpered again, then stuttered out: “o-one.”
SMACK!
“Two.”
“~Uuuhnn. Two.”
SMACK!
“Three.”
“~Brunoooo,” you moaned out, unable to say anything else. He let out a sound of disapproval.
“Oh, cara. That’s not how you count. We’ll have to start over again. Weren’t you taught this in school?” He chided. You could only muster up a quiet whine, mentally cursing this man for having so much power over you, but still-SMACK!- you loved him.
Public sex is something he’ll never openly admit is a turn on, at least not to the gang or anyone else who isn’t his partner. Oh, but brush up against his chest and “accidentally” grope him or lightly tap his ass while passing behind him and he’ll do the anime thing where their eyes go completely dark. Nothing makes him more sexually frustrated than being interrupted by you touching him during a conversation.
He’ll usually find a closet to hide you two in and then he’ll give you hell in the form of lots and lots of edging. Sticky Fingers, of course, has your mouth zipped closed the entire time, so as much as you want to scream you can’t.
Sometimes he’ll stick half of you in the other side of the zipper and just kind of use you like that. Doesn’t matter what end, though he does have a soft spot for fucking your throat.
Since we’re talking about zippers. Yeah, I’m saying it. It’s been done to death, but I can’t get enough of it. Zipping off his dick and leaving it in you all day. It’s practical (when in a fight. He doesn’t need to worry about getting sacked if he doesn’t have anything there!), it’s easy, he gets to feel your tight walls around him all day, you get to feel him rub up against every sweet spot in you. Literally no downside. Unless you have to go to the bathroom.
Bruno won’t admit it, but he saved all the pictures you send him in skimpy clothes, lingerie, naked, etc. on multiple devices. Just in case he’s ever at work and needs something to relieve the tension, or on a job in a hotel, or in the bathroom. You get the point.
#bruno x reader#jojo bruno#bruno buccellati#bruno bucciarati#bruno bucellati x reader#bruno bucciarati x reader#bruno x reader n/sfw#bruno x reader n/s/f/w#bruno x reader not sfw#bruno buccellati x reader n/sfw#bruno buccellati x reader n/s/f/w#bruno buccellati x reader not sfw#bruno bucciarati x reader n/sfw#bruno bucciarati x reader n/s/f/w#bruno bucciarati x reader not sfw#bruno buccerati x reader n/sfw#burno buccerati x reader n/s/f/w#bruno buccerati x reader not sfw#bruno buccerati x reader#bruno buccerati#I really miss bruno after writing all of this#he was so good#bruno prompts#not sfw
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Haru’s hopelessness - an extensive rambling.
Watchers of Free! Eternal Summer - y’all remember this moment, right?
Throughout S2, as some of the boys now have to seriously think about their lives and paths after high school, Haru struggles to think past what he’s always known: swimming for his friends/himself, eating mackerel, and being free. Things arguably take a darker turn once Haru cannot run from the question anymore and breaks, lashing out at Rin and saying he doesn’t have a dream or a future.
There are so many things that can be unpacked from this quote alone, and my thoughts on the matter will probably be sporadic, but here are a few key things I’d like to try diving into in this post:
My interpretation of Haru’s, Makoto’s, and Rin’s characters’ mindsets
What Haru is likely trying to say
How Makoto and Rin interpret his words (based on their mindsets and experiences)
I’d love to hear other people’s thoughts on it all as well, so please feel free to add on :)
DISCLAIMER: This post will reference material outside of S2 itself to explain my insight/interpretation of the characters (S1 episodes, High Speed novel), but I won’t be putting full links to all of those materials in this post. If you’d like a specific link to anything I’m referencing, let me know and I can try to dig one up.
When first hearing Haru say that he doesn’t have a dream or a future, it is shocking and concerning, especially to his friends. However, as broken as lost as Haru is in this moment, the weight of his words and what he’s verbally trying to convey is most likely different than what his friends hear. I feel as if a big reason for this comes down to the different ways the characters perceive time and approach general goal-setting.
Here is a video that can give a frame of reference for what I mean by “time perception,” but I’ll still try to explain my thinking ---> https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMJsdVUhu/
Rin and Haru butt heads on many occasions throughout the series due to having opposing characteristics and approaches to life. The big difference that comes into play during S2 is how they both approach goal-setting and time. As soon as we’re introduced to Rin, it becomes apparent that he is someone who is a visionary that has always set his sights on the future. From boldly proclaiming his Olympic goals in elementary school to encouraging their team to put their relay trophy into a time capsule, Rin establishes himself early on as a dreamer that puts his all into his long-term goals. Being someone who thinks about things in this manner isn’t inherently good or bad, but it does lend a hand to many of the issues we see Rin go through in S1 (having tunnel vision on his goal that isolates him from his friends, being prone to catastrophize when confronted with road blocks along the way [like when he breaks down after losing to Haru in middle school], etc.). However, all of that dreaming puts him at an advantage now when preparing to move forward into post-high-school life. He has a frame of reference for most of his next steps (winning races, talking to scouts), and now he just has to make it a reality.
Haru, in essence, lives his life in the moment. If he wants to swim, he’ll try to swim; if he wants mackerel, he’ll try to make mackerel. He lets the people around him (usually Makoto) worry about the possible consequences for his actions (swimming too early in spring might get him sick, swimming in a fish tank might get him kicked out of XYZ place, cooking mackerel after a long bath might make him late for school, etc.). The way he thinks about all of his “tomorrows” beyond acting freely on impulse is through having a consistent routine or norm to cling onto. When swimming, he’ll swim freestyle. When given a choice, he’ll default to eating mackerel. He’ll find a way to get in a swim or a bath most days because water is safe. He’ll walk with Makoto to and from school, sticking to the side of the path closest to the ocean and anticipating sharing the same split popsicle. This is about as much thought as he lends to the future, usually: he’ll keep doing the things that make him happy and comfortable, whatever that’ll mean to him in the moment. In opposition of Rin, this frame of mind based in immediacy and short-term goals helps him in S1 (teaching Rin to appreciate the moment, connecting with his friends, not getting lost in the overly analytical or competitive side of swimming), but it makes the challenges that come with his looming graduation in S2 much harder to cope with.
The reason that it’s important to understand how both Haru and Rin frame their perceptions of time is because it plays right into what Haru is saying during their argument. He is frustrated with Rin because Rin doesn’t understand the way Haru thinks/lives moment-to-moment (he yells as much in this fight) and he is tired of hearing people for years try and push him into long-term thinking about his future when he doesn’t naturally approach life that way. Think back to one of the first things Haru said in S1:
“When you're ten, they call you a prodigy. When you're fifteen, they call you a genius. Once you hit twenty, you're just an ordinary person. About three years until I'm ordinary. Man... I can't wait to be ordinary.”
Because of Haru’s swimming abilities, people have looked at him as a prodigy and have had their own visions about his potential or his future ever since he was young. Even if it seems like flattery, Haru feels boxed in by all of this. Being considered a prodigy comes with expectations that put him on a pedestal he never asked to be placed on -- if he’s going to swim, he’s expected to swim well; if he swims well, he’s expected to capitalize on his abilities in a competitive manner or expand his horizons to other forms of swimming; if he’s going to live his life tied to the water, people view him as a swimmer before they view him as anything/anyone else. Haru has been frustrated with all of this since he was younger (as expressed in S1), but it gets even worse as people close in on Haru from all sides with advice and sentiments that compound in Haru’s head as belonging to the echo chamber he hates so much.
So... what does this all mean in relevance to Haru saying he doesn’t have a dream or a future? Here’s my line of thinking: all of the internalized frustration Haru has with long-term thinkers (from his perspective) speaking over him and not taking time to understand his in-the-moment intuition-led mindset comes out in this line. What Haru is trying to say is that he doesn’t have a detailed long-term plan because he isn’t a romantic visionary like Rin. He wants to stick with his relatively free lifestyle (y’know, the one where he can do what he wants, but still ultimately sticks to a routine) because he sees no point in forcing himself to put effort into big changes if 1) he’s satisfied and 2) the system isn’t broken.*
*we learn later, especially through Haru and Makoto’s later fight, that these two points are up for debate, but this is what Haru has convinced himself to believe at the time of this specific confrontation.
However, with the way Haru vocalizes this frustration, it is vague enough that Rin and the others hear something much different. It’s written right on their faces. Like I mentioned earlier, being a long-term thinker prone to catastrophizing, Rin interprets (and possibly misconstrues) Haru’s words to mean that he doesn’t think he has the potential or abilities to strive for something. Rin feels Haru’s words like a punch to the gut because he relates Haru’s hopelessness to the times he has felt lost and hopeless, like when defeat after defeat led to him breaking down after his middle school race with Haru. It’s shocking and it stings for Rin to hear, because as much as he’s learned to believe in himself and his own future, he’s also held onto those dreams and hope for his friends. I’ll admit, his dedication and borderline obsession with swimming lends to him mostly vocalizing the dreams he has for his friends that are related to swimming (Makoto and Haru getting scouted, Sousuke returning to swimming), but the love is still there.
The idea of long-term vs short-term thinkers I’ve presented isn’t completely dichotomous or black-and-white, even though Haru and Rin tend to fall on the far opposite sides of the proposed spectrum. So, where does someone like Makoto fall?
Makoto is an interesting case. From how I’ve come to understand his character, I would say he also looks to the future, albeit in less idealistic or extreme ways than Rin. Makoto’s forward line of thinking presents itself through both his people-pleasing tendencies and his caring disposition. When Makoto interacts with people, he is often observant and calculating, trying to figure out how he can navigate a conversation in the most complimentary or polite manner. This ability and tendency to understand/empathize with others ties into a lot of the roles he takes on: team captain, big brother, part-time position as a swim coach, full-time position as Haru’s impulse control... he is inclined to think about the future and all of the possible consequences for his actions. This also ties into some of the other things we know Makoto’s character for, such as being a scaredy-cat (aka, someone who overthinks consequences in fear of the unknown) and a ray of sunshine (aka, someone who wants to see the best in people and holds onto optimism/hope for the people he loves, even if it sometimes means not saving enough for himself and his own abilities).
Despite being more of a forward-thinker, Makoto has definitely been influenced by his close relationship with Haru. Makoto has spent most of his life observing and learning how to read Haru, and it has been shown time and time again that Makoto is one of the people (if not, the person) that understands Haru best. He understands that Haru values the freedom of choice and harbors a desire for unconditional appreciation. He understands that Haru puts stock in consistency/reliability and needs time and space to process or reflect when life deviates from that carefully-crafted norm. Makoto’s actions towards Haru over the years all reflect him trying to be respectful of these observations. Even when he can tell something is bothering Haru, Makoto tries to let Haru work it out on his own first, not prodding him for information but letting his presence/support be known all the same. I digress, being best friends, their lives and routines are tightly woven together. Because of this, Makoto spends a lot of time also living in-the-moment with Haru -- he is a large proponent in Haru’s “free” lifestyle.
Since Makoto has a foot in both Haru and Rin’s respective worlds, how does he interpret Haru’s declaration that he doesn’t have a dream or a future? Surely, since he understands Haru and his position so well and has always been respectful of his mindset/wishes, he gets what Haru is trying to say... right?
Unfortunately for Haru (or fortunately, depending on who you ask), Makoto is immediately concerned by those words in a way similar to Rin. Like I mentioned earlier, Makoto holds deep optimism and hope in his chest for all of the people he cares about. Even though he never forced lofty expectations onto Haru to swim or be anything other than himself, he still holds so much care and hope for his best friend. For Makoto to hear that Haru might not have that faith in himself or the belief that he is worth a bright future, it breaks his heart. Similar to Rin, he is probably thinking back to his own moments of hopelessness, and I can’t help but think back to the lost and scared Makoto fighting with himself during the middle school days. When entering middle school, Makoto struggles with his identity, trying to figure out just how dependent he is on Haru’s friendship. One of his darkest moments in my mind comes from Chapter 8 of the High Speed! 2 novel, when Makoto is beating himself up especially hard after being frozen by his fear of the ocean yet again. Haru finds Makoto alone on a secluded part of the shore, where he says this:
“Will I be alright even if Haru isn’t here? …..I wanted to make sure of that.”
Raising his eyebrows, he shows a lonely smile. Makoto was fighting all along. He was suffering, all along. In a place where Haruka’s thoughts couldn’t possibly reach...
“Would Haru be alright even if I weren’t here?”
If Makoto’s internal struggles throughout their middle school days reveal anything, it is that Makoto has experienced a hopelessness that he wouldn’t ever wish on his friends. To think that Haru might now be at war with himself in a way that makes him question his own place in the world, his future... it is the ultimate catalyst for Makoto to step in and try to talk to Haru. Sadly, we all remember how that confrontation went...
ENTER: THE FIREWORKS FIGHT (S2E11)
(Since this post is already super long, I might go more into my thoughts on how this all plays into the misunderstandings about the fireworks fight in a separate post. We’ve talked about the fight at length on multiple occasions and you can definitely find my thoughts on the matter if you look under the “#fireworks angst night” or “#meta” tags on my profile.)
If you’ve made it this far into the post, thanks for sticking with me. I’d love to hear about how you interpreted Haru’s words or how you think the others took in his breakdown.
#long post#long long post#these poor complex boys with complex emotions#i just... care about them a whole bunch#meta#free! eternal summer#free! anime#ship neutral I think??#makoto tachibana#haruka nanase#rin matsuoka#fireworks angst night#(kinda but not really)#catherine wrote a thing!
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Black And White (2)
Pairing: Saul Silva x reader
Summary: Farah discloses an uncomfortable truth concerning the Burned Ones leading you to fear for Saul’s life.
Tagging: @grey-girl @anreeixcobra @kingunder221b @lflores2008 @alexiapayne12 @quuenofblacks @quarterback-5 @bitchwhytho @estelmei @music-of-melody
Series Masterlist
A/N I know this isn’t exactly what happens in the series but I have to change it a little to make it work with the plot.
“Fuck.” You have no idea how to tell Saul without telling Dowling too but it’s clear that he hasn’t spotted it.
“Thank you for seeing me this late. I want your perspective before I do anything,” Dowling says making you realise that this might just be something serious. For a second, you forget about the piece of evidence dangling off the chair instead listening in on the conversation.
“Of course. What’s going on, Farah?” Saul asks concern evident in his voice.
“The Burned Ones. Marco’s team found a whole group.” You furrow your brows wondering why this is so important to discuss with Saul right this instance. The Burned Ones have always been a concern and part of the reason why Saul insists on training the specialists so hard but when you think about it, you’ve never gotten that much information on the Burned Ones.
“A group? How many?” Saul asks clearly as worried as Dowling.
“Eight. Maybe more.”
“They’ve never done that before. They never hunt together,” Saul says revealing the reason why they’re so worried. A change in behaviour like this definitely means something. When Dowling starts moving further into the room, you remember the bra hanging off the chair. It’s only a moment of time before they’ll head for the chairs.
“Shit,” you whisper under your breath knowing that the only way to solve this is getting Saul’s attention but you’re too worried about what you just heard to think clearly. Very slowly you push the door to the closet slightly open cringing when you hear it creak. They both look towards the closet but Saul recovers quickly.
“Sorry about that. I’ve been meaning to get that door fixed.” He hurries over to close the door giving you the chance to whisper bra. He looks back spotting it immediately. You feel like you can finally breathe when he manages to grab the bra and throw it in the bin. But then Dowling sits down and starts talking.
“We haven’t seen a Burned One for sixteen years. Not since Rosalind was here. And now they’re back seemingly stronger. I fear for what that means.” There aren’t many who can hunt Burned Ones. Specialists have been trained to do so but practicing is very different from being out there. You remember Saul telling you about his father one night and the story has haunted you ever since.
“We’ll do a search party tomorrow,” Saul insures her in turn striking you with fear. You know he’s one of the best there is for haunting them but it’s also been almost two decades since he had to do it last. He’s a great fighter but he’s also not as young as he once was. You know he’ll never agree to you going with him but how are you meant to stay here when he’s out risking his life?
“Marco is returning tonight with what’s left of his group,” Dowling sighs covering her face with her hands. Ever since you could remember, you’d been told just how dangerous the Burned Ones are and now Saul will lead to search for them. Just the thought of it chills you to the bones. It takes everything you have to not just burst out and forbid him from leaving but you know you can’t do that. Instead you wait patiently for her to leave for the night and Saul to open the door once it’s safe.
“You can’t go out there tomorrow.” It’s the first thing you say when you’re finally alone with him and apparently, he expected it.
“I have to! I can’t send my soldiers out there and stay behind the barrier. I wouldn’t be able to look at myself.” In any other situation, you’d commend him for his loyalty to the soldiers but right now you want to chain him to the bed and make sure no harm comes to him.
“I know that! But what if you get hurt?” You didn’t mean for this to turn into a fight but you’re already on edge and the fact that he’s not meeting you with more of a reassurance just add fuel to the fire.
“That’s a possibility every day. If anyone should understand that, it’s you!” It’s true. You’re a specialist yourself and you know that danger is present every single day with this job but it’s different when it’s Saul. Logically, you know you wouldn’t think twice about it if it were anyone else going out there tomorrow. You might even volunteer.
“I understand the danger. It’s the reason I’m worried about you. I can’t lose you too.” You cover your mouth in shock from your own outburst. Your father never returned from the forest leaving you to fend for yourself and now you had to watch Saul head into the very forest that stole your father from you.
“You won’t lose me. I’m coming back for you.” He reaches out to touch you and you let him.
“You don’t know that,” you say choking back tears. He gently grabs you by the waist and pulls you towards him.
“I promise you I’m coming back,” he whispers kissing your forehead. He gives you a minute to just breathe before gently placing two fingers under your chin to tilt your head up.
“You can’t promise something like that, Saul. No one can.” Images of your father leaving the house that morning flashes before your eyes proving that even with the best intentions, it doesn’t always go the way you intended.
“I can promise I’m coming back because I’ll need this back when I do.” He holds out his ring to you. It was his father’s ring and in the time you’ve known Saul he’s never taken it off. Carefully, he unlocks your necklace and adds the ring to the chain before closing the lock again. The metal feels cold against your chest even though he just took it off.
“I will be coming back for this. And for you.” This time you don’t argue. Instead you kiss him trying to convey all your feelings for him through it. You don’t much sleep that night and as you get ready for the day, the feeling of his ring against your skin feels like a constant reminder of what’s about to happen.
“It’s time,” he says giving your hand a gentle squeeze.
“A kiss for good luck,” you say giving him several kisses before finally letting him go. By the door he stops to look at you a final time and even with his promise of returning, you can’t help but feel like this is a goodbye.
“I’m coming back for that ring,” he says trying to convince you as much as himself.
“I know.” You stand by the window in his room watching the group of specialists cross the barrier and head into the forest. In an attempt to clear your head, you make a beeline for the training rooms. There’s no one there giving you the chance to work off some steam without anyone asking questions. It’s several hours later before you finally collapse knowing you won’t be able to move tomorrow. You don’t even notice that your necklace has slipped out from under your shirt before Terra comments on it at dinner. You meant to just grab a plate with food and hide in your room but of course, it’s not that easy to remain anonymous.
“Hello. My father told me to tell you to meet him in the greenhouse this weekend. He has some new mix of herbs to show you.” Expanding your knowledge of herbs and natural medicine has been a private project with Ben Harvey and a reason why you and Terra have gotten to know each other over the years despite her being a first year.
“Right. I’ll stop by,” you reply not paying much attention.
“That’s a pretty necklace. I feel like I’ve seen that ring before,” she comments and you freeze. At last, you realise that you can’t feel the metal against your skin. If Terra realises that the ring is Saul’s, you know the whole school will know tomorrow. As much as you hate lying to her, it’s necessary to keep your relationship with Saul hidden. You tell yourself that lying is okay when you’ll be able to tell her the truth in a couple of weeks.
“My mother sent it to me. It was my fathers,” you reply hoping that the mentioning of your dead father will shut her up long enough for you to make your escape.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to pry,” Terra quickly says properly feeling horrible about mentioning it but definitely not as horrible as you feel. Lying right to her face somehow seems worse than keeping you and Saul’s relationship hidden.
“It’s fine. I’m just really tired so I’ll get to bed.” You don’t wait for her reply as you hurry off to your room. It’s tiny but right now you’re happy that you have it to yourself rather than suites like the fairies. That night you try your best to fall asleep but nightmares of Saul and your father torments you. Clutching the ring in your hand you tell yourself over and over that Saul will return to you. This is not where your story ends.
#saul silva blurb#saul silva x reader#saul silva gif#saul silva imagine#saul silva#fate the winx club#fate the winx saga#fate winx club#winx saga#winx club#fate winx#fate
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Helios- A Character Study
I have always been fascinated by Helios so I’m especially excited about this post! If there’s any other additional information you would like to add, ask, or discuss, feel free to send an ask or a post so I can adjust and clarify for you. But before that, I have other things I want to add that are important regarding my blog- I will be expanding and analysing other characters in MLQC, so not to worry Victor, Kiro and Lucien (and Shaw, Eli?, Savin?) stans! I has't not hath left thee! In addition, before every analysis/study that I do, I will post a hint (such a quote) that will foreshadow the upcoming character/topic I will be covering. I know it’s not necessary and literally nobody does it but this is great fun for me so I also want to try to make it fun for you guys to approach my blog and my work! This is a spoiler buffet. Please don’t read if you don’t want to be spoiled! This is probably the longest post ever on my blog so enjoy :)
“You either die a hero or live long enough to become a villain.” -The Dark Knight
Who is Helios?
??: Do you know what Helios means? The mocking in his face had returned. He suddenly came close and placed his hand on the window behind me. I was imprisoned in his arms and couldn’t move. His eyes drilled into my own. I felt that if I showed even the smallest hint of discomfort or fear, he would use that as an excuse to push me away. MC: Helios is the sun god from Greek mythology- ??: I don’t like that name.
Helios is the God of the Sun, sight and a guardian of oaths. He is seen to be riding a golden chariot to bring the sun across the skies each day from east (where the sun rises) to west (where the sun sets).
Kiro has lots and lots and lots of sun, light, dark and shadow imagery attached to him. Kiro is noted to be everyone’s sun, especially for MC and vice versa as she’s noted to be the one to chase the darkness away with Kiro following through. When he has those stage moments as his idol identity, it’s expected for him to be the guiding light (especially for his fans, the Kirophiles)- “the sun” and “hope” as to what “Kiro” represents, without any impurities associated with that persona. Which is ironic for Helios, who dressed mostly in black without the blonde hair, to have that same name as the God of the Sun working in BLACK SWAN- the organisation with the name literally having “black” in it as well.
“If Kiro is this exuberance and this life, Helios is the opposite of that. It’s what if we took someone who stopped finding reasons to be happy, who stopped finding a lot of things to be passionate about and was just trying to get on day by day- they react to the things that happen to them, rather than going out to look for adventure. Helios lacks a lot of emotion that Kiro has.” -Sean Chiplock, Kiro’s VA
Kiro and Helios
“If I had a dark side… I should hide it from others, right…? Can I really be imperfect?”
There had been a lot of discussion around Helios in relation to his transformation, whether he was acting and what Kiro’s connection with BLACK SWAN is.
To clarify, yes- Kiro is Helios. Helios is Kiro. Just like how Kiro admitted to MC that he’s also the hacker KEY. Helios is just one of the personas that Kiro has (which I will expand on in a future post). This, however, does not hinder negatively on Kiro’s personality, but introduces us to another side of him, one that shows effective in-depth characterisation. Especially when we first view him as the cheerful idol with the power to passively attract others. Kiro first gave off the certain impression to Sean Chiplock that you “don’t take off the calm and quiet person, because you don’t want to see the other side of them”.
Kiro and Helios, which one was the real him? Neither? Or both? -Clinic Date
Before MC has her first encounter with Helios, we have to look more into Kiro’s background and childhood.
Kiro was experimented on as a kid. He didn’t know his name, his birthday or where he came from. Through the experiments of genetic modification, he obtained his evol. Only when MC and the original KEY came to him, did he really strive to fulfil his sense of purpose of “we shall stand in darkness as we defend the light”, and also to protect MC back. His mentor used to be the original Helios, one of the twelve-ranking positions in BLACK SWAN, but went missing when Kiro was 15. Been given the name Kiro, using his idol identity, accepted this as Helios and as of the leader of BLACK SWAN to rid Leto- the true evil of the Season 1 timeline.
It is evident that he does genuinely care about his fans, his career and music despite all of this. This aspect of him is very much true (we see that he exposes a person scamming his fans in Chapter 3 and that in his various dates he dedicates his work to comforting his fans in their everyday lives). However, with this much love and support from everyone with very few knowing his true intentions and darker past, it is easy to “trip up” upon these identities, in a way that he would feel so lonely (as I reiterate what I said above) that everyone would think he’s the perfect man (not saying he isn’t because we all know he is!) without any troubles or experiencing difficulties climbing up the ranks to be where he is now- especially with his evol being charm and control. He would wonder if it’s really him or his evol making people act this way towards him (why he has this much love and attention).
In reality, every teacher who has met him adored him very much. But because of this, Kiro always remained in fear. From the beginning to the end, he had felt that the love and care from others was akin to smoke - surging at first, but from thereafter, dissipates gradually. -CN Stunning Young Idol Rumours and Secrets
He’s like a little sun with no dark spots at all. No wonder people say people say he has a super power. He seems to be loved by everybody… -Chapter 3-1
“A lot of people adore me, but only when I’m doing my thing on stage. They wouldn’t want to see me now...” -Visiting Hours Date
It would be incredibly hard for him to keep this standard and uphold these burdens with his identity as Helios and KEY as well- where everyone would believe those personas of him to be the “vice”- the “evil”, in morality play. Because when the people who love you only know and love this side of you, what becomes of you when you lose it all?
Superstar Kiro was a little angel who received the admiration and respect of thousands and thousands of fans. What the hacker KEY sounded like was someone with malicious intentions.
-
Kiro didn’t know which one of his identities was more famous. Though of course, nobody would correlate these two polar-opposite identities together. -CN Heavens Home for Children Rumours and Secrets
He always looked so carefree in front of people, smiling and laughing. But when he was alone in the corner, he always looked so solemn and tired. Countless times, Savin had wanted to talk to Kiro about his work, life and feelings but with just a few words, Kiro would always put him to ease. -That Boy Makes Me Worry Rumours and Secrets
However, behind his brilliant smile, I could occasionally feel something different. It was like paper that couldn't be penetrated. After all, he was a superstar. Ordinary people like us wouldn't understand their world, they must have one or two faces of their own behind the screen. -Secret Base Rumours and Secrets
In the makeup room, sitting on the sofa, Kiro had lost some shine he had under the spotlight and looked a little bit exhausted. -Confession Date
In a way, Kiro still staying so pure and happy when others are around is because he doesn’t want people to suffer like he did. He had an extremely rough time when he was young, but his beliefs, light and hope that MC gave him allowed him to fight for better days.
I then thought about the superstar Kiro many years later, who was always shining and effortlessly charming. This made me really sentimental. How many things must he have been through to become strong enough to bring light to other people? -Echoes of Time: Parisian Salon
She looked so pretty when she smiled, and she also had a father who loved her dearly. She was definitely… someone who deserved to live the most. -CN Top Experimental Subject Rumours and Secrets
His dazzling smile conceals something underneath, just like how the dazzling sun shrouds darkness underneath. Hidden in the depths of his own secrets are things even darkness doesn’t know of. If darkness had a mind of its own, it might think it doesn’t fit with this pure and simple youth. Just as how everyone thinks of him as a simple, innocent Kiro, the sunlight casted on him, able to pierce through him completely, with rays of light refracting onto the floor. Actually, since a very long time ago, he no longer was a youth… But now, for her sake, he’s willing to become a youth again. -CN Youthhood Rumours and Secrets
The thing I like most about you is that you never admit defeat and you always stay positive. Every time I see you it's like you’re this brilliant sun and I feel charged of energy. Maybe all the lonely times I’ve been through... was so that I could meet you. -Confession Date
When they were younger, they were together as test subjects for evol. MC promised him donuts. He gave her a stuffed teddy bear. Kiro tried to help MC escape but they got caught and separated. They had spent quite some time together, so Kiro would be able to recognise MC once they had met again. Kiro had to replace another child for a top experiment, and the workers thought he’d die anyway as he was too weak. But still, he had survived and became the first and only successful subject. MC showed him that there was kindness- light- that still existed in the darkest of places. And in the darkest parts of his heart, there was MC to light those areas up for him :)
“Look, this world is so beautiful, and you don’t need to be afraid anymore.” But till now, he has yet to find her. But he remembers her eyes. And one day, he will find her within a vast sea of people.
Kiro remains speechless- quietly listening to the little girl speak. The little girl struggles to pull on his hand. Their fingers interlock together, the warmth from her palm gradually coursing into Kiro’s heart. “Don’t be afraid. I’ll protect you.” Kiro turns to look at her - to look at her perseverant brown eyes, looking at how the corners of her lips turn upwards. Kiro slowly learns how to curl the corners of his own lips from her. It’s the first smile to have appeared on his face. “This time, I’ll be the one protecting you.” Kiro says excitedly. He stands outside the airport, staring directly at the sun. “I’ll find you, and protect you. I even have a mountain of souvenirs stored in my luggage- I’ll give them to you! And my purest heart - I’ll give it to you too!” -CN Youthhood Rumours and Secrets
Helio’s Transformation
“Because only you can awaken me from darkness, no matter when.”
When Kiro transforms to Helios, it mainly affects his physical appearance. His hair grows longer and changes to colour, and his black (and super cool) NIRVANA tattoo appears. When he is weak, the tattoo fades (seen in Clinic Date.)
Nirvana- a transcendent state in which there is neither suffering, desire, nor sense of self, and the subject is released from the effects of karma and the cycle of death and rebirth. It represents the final goal of Buddhism.
I looked at his silver hair. It looked very natural with no signs of hair dye. In the serene moonlight, it was very beautiful. It wasn’t dyed, and it didn’t look like it turned silver because of an illness or something. -Chapter 17
Helios’s ring also plays part of his transformation. This is ultimately connected to BLACK CABIN and the 1908′s White House Explosion- when evol was born. From this high-dimensional space, Kiro is able to take on as Helios- who also known to be BS’s first generation of god. He can change upon his will, and influences from BLACK CABIN/QUEEN can cause him to lose control.
The golden hair mixed with the bright silver. He raised his finger, and the silver ring flashed. He muttered quietly, as if speaking to the ring and to himself. -Behind The Curtain Part 6: After Returning
Moonlight shone through the window, illuminating his silver hair with a golden glow for an instant. He buried his face in his right elbow, and large beads of sweat formed on his brow, as if a kind of uncanny transformation was occurring. “NOT NOW!!!” He howled hoarsely, his eyes now golden in the darkness. Residual power inside the Quarantine zone appeared to be affecting him. Violent forces jolted in the tiny space, and coursed through his obsidian ring. -Night Watchman Rumours and Secrets
Chapter 14
He turned and looked at me, his face a pallid white. His smile was still gentle. Suddenly, I felt intensely uneasy.
MC: “We’re going in, right?”
Kiro didn’t answer, his eyes intent on me gleamed with a flash of golden light above. When I looked carefully, I discovered his eyes turned into this exquisite gold like pure amber, or crystallised time.
Kiro: “I command you…”
I have never heard him sound like this before. Stiff, stern and solemn.
“All within my range of control belongs to me. Now walk onto the rooftop, lock the door, and don’t let anyone in… including me... Don’t be afraid. You’ll be okay. I said before, I will definitely succeed this time. I will always protect you.”
In saying this, he believes that his own sacrifices are necessary, no matter what the situation is. Kiro is willing to dim or even smother his own light and sun for MC to be safe and happy.
A black figure suspended in the air behind Kiro, just like scythe-toting Death himself… I seemed to see a golden-winged bird fly by, like a ray of light crossing the sky, leaving a temporary light trail in my vision.
“Death”, “golden-winged bird”, and “light”.
This sentence was highlighted in the chapters’ outline from the chapter contents. This implies the symbolism of the phoenix bird- the mythical bird that rises from the ashes and is reborn again. Kiro was captured by BLACK SWAN as punishment and had undergone modification- and was resurrected as Helios.
Chapter 17
He was standing in front of me. Half of his face was hidden in the shadows, but I could see the sharpness of his eyes and eyebrows. He took the notebook away from my hands before I could finish my sentence.
As MC gets tied to the table, flashbacks from suppressed memories emerge. We see Kiro and MC together being test subjects. (Fun fact- Kiro and MC’s blood type is O!)
White walls. A deserted lab. A cold med table. And a blond boy with agony in his face. Next to him lay a brown-haired girl who was unconscious. …Was that me? I looked at the blood pouring out from the IV. Tears came from my eyes. Kiro… Our lives were connected long before. But where are you now?
She finally realises that Kiro was that boy from the orphanage.
AND I JUST REALISED SOMETHING. HAS HELIOS NEVER OUTRIGHTLY ADMIT THAT HE’S NOT KIRO? LIKE HE NEVER SAID “NO”??
MC: Are you really not Kiro?
??: How long are you going to keep calling me by that wrong name?
(Yes, it’s technically the wrong name because right now he’s called Helios but he’s also technically still Kiro!)
He didn’t sound particularly annoyed, but I felt saddened.
MC: I…
I looked at his face. Every line, feature- they resembled Kiro, but at the same time wasn’t.
MC: I’m sorry… I must be wrong…
I hung my head low. His face may resemble him, but his expressions were so unlike Kiro and I didn’t want to see that.
But my intuition told me that my hunch was not wrong. If that was correct, then one of my paths was already sealed.
-
Helios: What makes you think that I wouldn’t? You already know where I’m from. Why are you being so naïve? I shook my head. MC: Kiro wouldn’t do this to me… An unknown emotion flashed in his eyes.
Poor Kiro, having to pretend to not know MC and act so cold towards her. It must have been incredibly hard and painful for the both of them. Please just LET THEM BE TOGETHER.
Kiro isn’t risking MC see this darker side of him. He truly doubted if anybody would accept him as Helios, because he was just so used it before as an idol having to act so perfect on screen, showing everybody what they wanted to see.
-
“MC. Step a meter away from him, and close your eyes.
The golden flashes in his pupils were the last thing I saw before I closed my eyes.
“I command you to forget what just happened. And I command you to forget about me. Remember, I’m just Helios.”
My memories were being erased bit by bit. Kiro was fading from my sight. His smiles, his eyes, his warmth… all of them became vague like a fog and disappeared. I tried my best to hold onto them, but it was all in useless.
Kiro… Even the name I tried to hold on till last was wrenched away from me. He watched silently as MC closed her eyes and blacked out in his arms.
“I’m sorry…”
He apologised again quietly. His eyes that once held warmth and brightness were again now filled with shadows.
“I will find the truth that you’re looking for. I don’t want you to bear that heavy burden. I’ll come back to you some day, but not today. Don’t remember my dark sides. In your eyes, I will always remain Kiro to you. After I take care of everything, things can go back the way they were between us. This time, I’ll make sure that you don’t have to wait long.”
-
“He looked a lot like Kiro. But it wasn’t him.”
In my palm was a small candy glistening in the sunlight. On impulse I unwrapped the paper and put it in my mouth.
MC: Apple flavour…
It somehow crossed my mind that it was Kiro’s type of flavour.
He wants MC to still have faith in him, and to trust in his abilities to protect her, as the candy is a motif for their relationship and exchange towards each other. (This was the same back in the orphanage when they were together too.) However, as his identity as Kiro, not the Helios she encountered. (Dramatic ironyyyy)
“We shall stand in darkness as we defend the light.”
Thorns Date
In the photo, Kiro looked completely different from what he usually looked like. On the glistening water, a youth held a birdcage, with a glint of melancholy in his drooping eyes. This was the last set of photos before quitting.
-
Kiro asked for my praise with shiny begging eyes, as if the prior sorrow and blue were all my illusions.
-
We stood very close to each other, yet at this moment, I felt there was a formed gap between us.
“MC, do you think the imprisoned bird can get out of the cage?”
-
There seemed to be a ray of golden light flashing through my mind but I couldn't catch it. (The thought that Helios came to see her?? Yes.)
I remember his distance, his apathy, yet puzzling familiarly.
Helios saw the magazine falling from my bag, his face flashing with complicated emotions I couldn’t comprehend. And I felt the familiar feeling of being touched deep in my soul.
“You like gazing at me a lot.”
-
Standing at the edge of the dark abyss, he opened his arms and leaned backward without hesitation. He fell straightly like a folded winged bird in the moment. (Similes, metaphors and symbolism galore!)
-
I sat on the ground limply and closed my eyes to avoid the dazzling light. This scene felt so familiar as I had experienced such a farewell.. Why?
My senses told me this man was Helios, yet the feelings from deep of my heart were so real.
“Helios! Do you… know how the imprisoned bird can get out of the cage?”
“Why do you think I will answer this question?” Behind such eyes, there seemed to be something else I couldn’t make out in the shadow.
I seemed to see him unfold a pair of black wings on his back and about to flutter away. No more cages could imprison him and nothing could make him stop. Helios walked from the bright light into the shadow.
He recalled her last question and her sad and confused eyes. Suddenly he recalled an ancient story. There was a kind of bird. It was always trapped in the thorns of fate from the moment of its birth. If the most beautiful thing was doomed to be exchanged with the deepest pain. He would overcome all obstacles to come back to her. And be her sun again.
The story that Helios recalled could be The Nightingale by Hans Christian Andersen.
In Ancient China, one of the forests lived a nightingale, who sang so beautifully everybody would stop and listen. The nightingale was renowned to be the best wonder out of all the things that the travellers abroad had ever seen. However, the Emperor of China didn’t know that such a bird existed, and demand to have it found.
The bird had come willingly to sing for the Emperor, singing so sweetly that tears came out of everybody’s eyes. The nightingale lived in the court thereafter, until one day the Emperor had received a mechanical copy of the bird, golden with precious gems and all. The nightingale had left, and all the courtiers had said that it was an ungrateful creature. It was therefore banished from the empire.
The mechanical bird had stopped working, only being able to play once every year. Five years had passed, and the Emperor fell ill that nobody expected him to live. Death had arrived to the Emperor as he prayed for the bird to sing a note. The living nightingale had appeared again, and had come to sing out of trust and hope for the Emperor. Death went to look at the Emperor’s renowned garden as the Emperor was thankful for the bird’s singing. She sang again, and the sun rose through the window and as everybody thought the Emperor had passed. The Emperor wanted the nightingale to stay by his side but it refused. It cannot live in the palace, but promised to visit the Emperor to sing to him.
A black figure suspended in the air behind Kiro, just like scythe-toting Death himself… I seemed to see a golden-winged bird fly by, like a ray of light crossing the sky, leaving a temporary light trail in my vision.
Similar to Chapter 14, in this date, Kiro is represented as the bird, trapped in the cage. He had to release what everyone wanted him to be- Kiro, the shining sun/bird trapped in the cage under their control- ironic how his evol is absolute control because his charm would have drawn people this way in as a result. And the only way to be free was to be resurrected, to escape, to disappear from public view- to become free as Helios.
Light Pursuit Date
“Will you forget me?”
Kiro was becoming faint like a water mist. Panicking, I reached out to grab him but he slipped away from my fingers. An invisible wall had come between us and I couldn’t get close to him. This one step was like an unbridgeable gap between us, but it was like a line that we could never cross.
Will I forget Kiro? That sudden question in my head became clearer, and made me tremble in panic.
-
He had the name of a sun god, but even I couldn’t feel any bit of warmth.
MC: What is Helios here for?
Helios: We meet again, MC.
This was the first time that Helios called me by my name. He was brusque as ever, but there seemed to be a small amount of yearning in his voice. He did not act the way like the Helios that I used to know. His attitude and manners were surprisingly refined… like he was acting out a whole different persona.
-
The music changed into Por Una Cabeza- the tango song that I was very familiar with.
(I absolutely love the intertextuality that the game has. It’s a Spanish tango song that was also appeared in Scent of a Woman starring Al Pacino where the tango scene featured a blind man dancing with a woman who didn’t know how to dance and was scared of making mistakes. This correlates perfectly for MC and Helios. MC’s body is reacting to Helios as if he was Kiro...)
I didn’t drink, but I felt drunk somehow. Otherwise how else would this reachable warmth and illusion of intimacy familiar?
We were so close to each other, but the distance between us was only one step away, but a step we could never cross.
-
Helios looked up when he heard my voice. His eyes seemed to have trouble focusing. His blue eyes wavered like a lake sprinkling with sunlight. Surprisingly, there was sorrow, and naivety in those usually unfeeling eyes.
He lowered his head and his chin rested on my shoulder. I have never seen Helios so vulnerable. His hands were wrapped around my waist, leaving no space between us. Helios didn’t answer and continued to keep me pressed to his body. There was a deep aura of loneliness and bitterness about him that was barely discernible from his cold exterior.
-
Because to me, you were familiar to someone I deeply care about. Because my soul resonates when I am close to you. Because…. of a ridiculous assumption. Did I reach the edge of truth? Or was I just deceiving myself? A thick fog was obscuring me from seeing the truth clearly. I didn’t continue talking or thinking. MaybeI was so vaguely aware that this was the closest I could get to him. Only one step away but a distance I could never close.
MC is also scared. She’s in turmoil. She wants to know the truth but she’s also sitting on the fence with it. Especially due to the memory wipe. It’s like, “maybe it’s better if I don’t,” and “I think you are that someone I care so much about but I can’t be sure about it because even if I ask you, you won’t tell me, and I don’t know what to do.”
:(
Stardust Date
Kiro: That’s right. I’m going to a far, far place. And I will stay there for a very long, long time. Don’t cry when you start missing me. MC: I’m not going to cry!
Kiro: But I will. So promise me, alright? Don’t forget me, even if I leave.
Two days afterwards, I heard him talk to someone on the phone. I’m pretty sure it was his voice, but it sounded like he was a completely different person.
What was he trying to hide? Did it have anything to do with his “leaving”? Was it out of his own will or was he involved in something under duress?
-
The confident smile on his face as he glided his fingers across the keys fluently, showed his passion for this show. As songs were played after another, he became more focused. I could tell from his expression that he was fully immersed in this performance. As long as he was given a stage and music, he’d become the centre of attention no matter what position he was in. However, the more passion I saw, the more I was scared for his “leaving”. He is the sun- what will happen to his supporters when they lose him? And what about me? What will happen to me?
Light and Shadow Phone Call
MC: Is that melancholy in your voice? It’s unlike you to be down like this.
Kiro: Really? Does everyone think I’m that shallow?
MC: Of course not. But you are the brightest and warmest sun, so it’s easy to be touched by your optimistic side first.
Kiro: But right now, the sunlight is getting too strong that it’s scorching…
MC: Hmm? Is it? right now it’s sunset where you are?
Kiro: Yes. I’m sitting atop of Namibia’s Dune 45 and everything is red. Even the sun is sinking low.
MC: Soon, it will sink beyond the horizon.
Kiro: Yes… Miss Chips, Since you say I’m like the sun, and the sun eventually sets...
Kiro: If I have a dark side, I should hide it from others, right?
MC: Why should you hide it?
Kiro: Because, I don’t want to show you and I don’t want to disappoint others.
MC: But you’re just you, Kiro.
Kiro: I am who I am?
MC: Yes. Why can’t a sun have shadows? Even the real sun has sunspots! People who really care for you will love both the warm sunny side and the occasional dark, depressed side.
Kiro: But I always feel...
MC: Everyone has a side they want to hide in the shadows. No one is expected to be required as perfect. That applies to my little sun as well.
Kiro: Can I really be imperfect?
MC: Absolutely. To me, all sides of you are worth cherishing.
Kiro: Thank you, MC.
MC: What’s there to thank?
Kiro: Because… only you are willing to see the weak and plain side that I’m hiding and accept both my light and my shadow.
MC: That’s why I’m your own personal tree hole! I’ll keep your sorrows tucked away for you!
Kiro: Thank you Miss Tree Hole. I’m so lucky to have you. In fact, you are my sun who gives me light to embrace the world every morning. Thank you, for always being there by my side.
This call is so significant for Kiro, and his battle between light and dark. After his evol went out of control, he’s afraid of hurting his fans and MC. Similes and metaphors are used to compare his evol/different personas as the sun and how it will soon go down. He confronts the truth that he will also have to leave the public view soon, and uses this opportunity of the call to confirm what MC thinks if he had imperfections/shadow sides. And of course, to thank her before he leaves.
Chapter 21 (Winter World)
He was so fast that his moves were a blur. He dodged every attack and landed his own with grace and strength. It was like watching a silver moonlight dancing in flowing moves.
-
“You seem to be completely ignorant about how weak you are.”
I was trapped in a little cage he made with his body against the wall. The cruelty in his face crumbled the last of my shields. he didn’t stop there. He leaned in with his whole body hemming me into the confined space he created.
Helios: Weaklings should learn to survive on their own. No one will teach you that.
MC: I don’t want to be a weakling forever.
Helios: Then you better figure out how to become stronger.
He dropped his sarcastic tone. Instead, each syllable fell from his mouth with upmost earnestness.
Helios: Use all your strength. Every method you can think of. Abandon your past...even abandon yourself. If you can’t do that, then just go back tot the world you came from.
-
1562 clutched tightly on his friend’s blanket, refusing to let go. However, in the end, he was shoved onto the ground because his strength was too weak. He had collided so hard that he couldn’t get up for a long while. -CN Top Experimental Subject Rumours and Secrets
If MC hadn’t come, then there would be no real sun in his life. He would only have artificial light. And he would be right- Helios would be just Helios. He wouldn’t bother much about fans or music, but using this identity to climb the system. He had to learn the hard way on how to survive. Nobody was there for him, thus it would be harder for him to feel empathy towards others in situations other than this.
The sun had risen completely. The increasing bright light drowned everything that belonged in the darkness. Helios remembered that day a long time ago. In the darkness, the withered hand touched his head and said faintly, “become Kiro, be the so-called “sun”.
At that time, he had lowered his eyes, nodded blankly, and simply walked out into the night, emitting a false light that was not his own. But today… Helios looked off into the distance, and seeing the dazzling morning light, he remembered the girl… At that moment, he saw the real sun. -Between Light and Darkness Rumours and Secrets
From “Behind The Curtain”, MC fell into the space-time gap and was saved by Helios. Even though he couldn’t see her as they were in different dimensions, she could be influenced by him. This wasn’t the first time that he’s tugged on that bond tying them together to BLACK CABIN. Thank you Helios also for helping bring MC back to her original world.
Chapter 28
Kiro: You should know about everything that I’ve done.
MC: I know that... you’re Helios.
Kiro’s eyes flickered and blinked at me. The golden hair under the now eclipsed sunlight seem to have an extra glow to it. Kiro: Is my name really that important?
MC: Why did you hide it from me? I trusted that you would tell me. That no matter what name you had, you really wouldn’t change...
Kiro: If a superhero were to turn into an arch-villain, would those who always believed in him lose hope? What he want most is for you to be a fairy, free of all cares. Not getting hurt, not getting worries, whose only responsibility is receiving signals and joy and happiness.
Kiro: However, if she is determined to go do something difficult, and she wants to bear this burden on her own... then I wish for her to be a little superhero, who can fly through it all with ease.
Chapter 29
“Don’t get all angry. The person beside you didn't even notice any difference between us. Or put it another way, it seems that “you” aren’t important in this role that you’re playing. Anybody can replace you.” -Anole
Anole is wrong (and just jealous). MC did notice, and plus, he probably wouldn’t have survived in the top experiment that Kiro had undergone in the orphanage. That was something only Kiro would have survived, with his willpower and determination in his heart to make a better life for himself and MC- something that Anole clearly lacks.
-
I had never seen Helios laugh before. His smile wasn't as dazzling as his golden-haired counterpart’s, but one could say that if the former him was the sun, then his smile was now a gentle moon.
THE IRONYYY. Helios is finally okay with showing this side of him to her, from watching her go through trials and tribulations in the Winter World with the other Helios- of course he wouldn’t want any danger to be near MC, but knowing that she can handle anything after all that she went through, he now knows that it’s better for her to be with him instead. Also he learnt how to smile from her and now he’s smiling again as Helios and I’m just so happy
Whether in the face of violent, nefarious enemies or a wave of blood and bullets, he’d never shown any fear. I got the feeling that he was somehow nervous, or even afraid. Was it because he had to return into the spotlight, back the shower of roses and applause?
Well… when he decided to give all that up and step into the darkness with no turning back, what was he thinking then?
-
He leaned on the wall and rested awhile, staring intently at the black tattoo on his right arm… he looked at himself in the mirror. His silver strands of hair were tingled with gold, as if bathed in sunlight. And for only that one time, he didn’t avert his gaze from the desire in his eyes. It was like looking at a self portrait—so distant, yet so familiar. It was only now that he realised: this was the moment in his life most worth reliving. Once again, he had become Kiro.
In the PV/Karma (photo down below), we see him wearing black- not as Helios but as Kiro! Again, ironic how he’s holding a comeback concert he’s wearing black, a colour that represents darkness and shadows. It had been noted in the Snooper Rumours and Secrets that this is way out of Kiro’s style wardrobe. However, this signifies a range of things. The two personas are “merging” as he no longer hides this persona to MC- they’re one in the same. It has always been this way and will never change. The colour black also means power and authority, but can mean fear and grief. This is the same outfit when Kiro was doubting himself in the Light Pursuit Date as well.
Right now, if we’re talking moon phases, Kiro right now is in “the void”. Meaning he’s “nowhere”. He’s Kiro but he’s also operating as Helios. He feels nervous to go back but it does come so natural for him to be in the spotlight. He feels stuck at crossroads with himself, especially when he got forced back to perform by Anole.
Ultimately, it’s like he’s saying “no matter what becomes of me, I will always stay true to you.” And I think this is perfectly translated as Kiro says,
“Miss Chips, wait for me.”
(”Wait for me as I fight for us both. So you don’t have to suffer.”) But we suffer either way.
His light and sun has always come from MC. He will always keep running towards his sun, no matter which persona he embodies. This, we can be certain on. (New Season 2 Chapters please don’t oppose this LOL.)
“I await you at the end of the opposite path.”
#26 pages long#I actually love his voice so much#mlqc#mlqc kiro#mlqc helios#helios#mr love queens choice#love and producer#mlqc cn#mlqc en#恋与制作人#mlqc analysis#mlqc translation#mlqc zhou qiluo#zhou qilou#kiro#mlqc spoilers
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The Immobile Man
**18 Years or Older: The following includes themes of: immobility, XSSBHM, unrealistic situations, and homoerotic self-pleasure. REMEMBER: The relationship portrayed in this story is an unrealistic caretaker-client relationship – it is okay to read and enjoy these works of fiction, but what is essentially a “boss-worker” relationship should not take place in the real world. ENJOY!!**
Sam is a new Home-Care nurse. He is excited and anxious about meeting his first ever client! However, he quickly realized he may have bitten off more than he could chew...
It was my first day as a home-care nurse. I was excited to get out in the world and help people, but I didn’t know what was in store for me. My professors and Clinical Instructors always said that “your first patient will be one you never forget.” The thought of that was just as exciting as it was worrying. This must be the place, I thought to myself as I stood outside of a single-floor home. The outside of the house was not well-kept. The yard was a mess, and the siding was covered in green moss. I double-checked the address on my patient files and then triple-checked just to be sure. After a deep breath, I approached the house and walked up the two, small cement steps. On the door, was a sign saying: “All packages: Please go around to side window and drop it in window. Thanks.” I didn’t think much of it – in fact, things like this were expected for clients like this one. According to the file, the patient was Mr. Mike Jacobs. He had “limited mobility” and required a “high level of assistance with all activities of daily living” and “activity monitoring.” I was not told much more than that – I was only told the information I needed to know. How he got hurt, or whatever rendered him with limited mobility, was not part of the information I needed. I knocked on the door. -Silence- I knocked a second time. -Silence- I knocked a third time. “Yeah… who’s there?” Called a thick, deep voice from inside. I slowly opened the door, after the baritone voice called from deep within the house. “My name is Sam, and I’m a Home Health Nurse. I’m here to help Mr. Jacobs…” “That’s…me!” The man coughed. “Come in! I’m in… the bedroom here!” I slowly opened the front door. Immediately, I was met with a musky, damp smell. I covered my nose at first, but then stopped as I felt it was unprofessional. After regaining my composure, I slowly walked through the house and toward the bedroom. The carpet itself was torn and stained, small wheel treads were indented into the carpet, all leading from the couch to the kitchen. The entire house looked like it was on the TV Show “Hoarders.” Old boxes and bags cluttered the rooms in large heaps. The furniture was snapped and broken. Everything was covered in dust – even the appliances in the kitchen. The heaps of trash managed to pile almost as tall as me, but at 5’6” (167cm) I was not terribly tall anyway. Inside the kitchen, was a broken-down mobility scooter. The wheels had all burst, and the seat was crushed and flattened like a pancake. “I’m in here… come in, boy!” The man wheezed. I slowly opened the door and my jaw dropped. In the middle of the room were two, full-sized beds resting side-by-side, connected by a plank of wood in the front that was nailed into the bed frames. The legs of the bed frames were reinforced and wooden blocks, as well as books, were shoved up under the sagging frame to help add extra support. The mattresses on the frames were both flattened until they were no thicker than a pillow, both overwhelmed by the mound of blob-like lard on the bed. Next to the blob was a rolling cart with one pizza box on top – a plethora of empty boxes was scattered along the floor. “I’m Mr. Jacobs… you can call me… by that… or by ‘Sir’… either is fine.” The man was immense. I was surprised he even managed to muster the energy to speak between mouthfuls. This man was not human – his size was not physically possible. In fact, I had to rub my eyes just to be sure, and I looked around for hidden cameras to see if I was on a prank show or if this were a test. This man was easily over 1000 pounds, or maybe even 1400 or more pounds. Either way, it was a sight to see – he must have been the fattest man around, or even alive. Wobbling dangerously close to the end of the bed was the blob’s belly. Flabby, doughy piles of flesh spilled outward and sagged down from his front. The looming mass of blubber covered most of the mattresses beneath the tub of lard. At the front of Mr. Jacobs’ belly was a deep belly button, which must have been out of his reach for a long time. The cavernous belly button marked the division between two vast, distended folds of pure fat that sat atop each other. The bottom fold, which forced the mattress to sink downward, spilled all around the fat man’s frame, where it rounded his sides and became a series of substantial love-handles that oozed over his gelatinous, mammoth thighs. I could not distinguish the different segments of the obese glutton’s legs. It was just a series of rolls and folds piled against each other. Every roll sagged down towards his fat feet, where the lard oozed around his long-lost ankles. The fat from his thighs blended in with his massive rear, which spilled out far behind him. Two gigantic globes of ass fat smothered multiple pillows that were placed at the head of the bed. Even while standing in front of the blob, I could make out his wide load of a rear. My eyes were drawn back to his belly button. It looked deep and was starting to become hidden away by the looming roll of flesh that swelled over it. At the crest of the blob’s belly, were two massive moobs. These moobs splayed off to the sides of the man’s belly with two nipples that were easily the circumference of my hands. The bottom half of his fattened areolas had started to become hidden as his own expanding chest fat forced them to point downward. Neck, shoulder, and upper arm fat all blended into what seemed like one massive, sagging mound of dough. The only distinction was the pillow-sized forearms that emerged from his flab-engulfed upper arm. Due to the daunting magnitude of the fat mounds that sagged off of his side, Mr. Jacobs’ arms were stuck almost parallel to the ground. However, it just seemed to make it easier for him to eat since he only needed to grab another slice of pizza and bend his elbow. Everything about this man was fat. Similarly to how he did not have a discernable neck or ankle, this man’s wrist was also engulfed in lard by his own gluttony. The seemingly most mobile part of him was his fingers. The cheeks on both sides of his face were swollen to the point where they started to impinge on his field of view. “I-I-I’m…um…” I stuttered as I continued to ogle the blob. “Surprised?” The man interjected as he swallowed the last slice. “You’re surprised to see me… ain’t ya?” He grabbed the empty pizza box and shoved it off the rolling cart. It fell to the ground with the rest of the empty garbage that fell victim to his ravenous feeding. “Um.. no… well… I meant to say, I’m Sam. I’m your new nurse.” “Fuckin’ finally!” The man wheezed and panted. His massive moobs heaved up and down with each labored breath. “I have a ton... of shit for… you to do… I’m too big to… do things on my own…” “Yes, sir! That’s why I’m here.” Mr. Jacobs quickly got me to work. He rattled off a long list of things, but before I could do anything though, I had to take a baseline of his vitals. When I took out the blood pressure cuff, Mr. Jacobs laughed at me. He pointed to his arm and laughed some more. There was no way that the cuff could fit around his arm. I then approached him and asked for his wrist, so I could measure his pulse. That did not work either. The gluttonous blob relaxed, and the immense heaviness of his arm alone was too heavy for me to hold. I tried to dig my fingers into the fat that engulfed his wrist, but I could not find a pulse. As I dove my fingers deeper and deeper into his fat arm, I was met with only more lard. I then attempted to maneuver to his neck, but I couldn’t find it. I leaned against the side of his belly, and slid my fingers between his chins and tried to find a pulse in his neck, but like his wrist – there was way too much blubber. “So… what are…my vitals, boy?” “I-I- um…” The fat man laughed, “Couldn’t do it… could ya? Don’t worry… it ain't the first time... The other nurses… failed too… You’re lucky ya cute… I gave… other nurses a harder time… How bout you… get to doing… what I ask ya?” Mr. Jacobs had me running around the entire house doing work for hours. I first needed to remove all the garbage from his room. I picked up dozens and dozens of empty pizza boxes, heaps of fast food bags, and even threw away old, torn clothing that fit him a few hundred pounds ago. Afterward, I did the same through the rest of the house. Once finished, he then asked me to add some extra support to his bedframes. I grabbed bricks from outside of the house and piled them beneath the buckling frame. I even grabbed extra wooden planks and hammered them into the sides of the bed frame, which was starting to crack and snap. Once a few more boards of plywood were added to the sides, as well as underneath, the frame seemed a lot sturdier. Mr. Jacobs scoffed at my work without even saying a thank you. He then asked for me to rub his belly for him – he was far too full and tired. Besides, the lack of mobility combined with his impinged range of motion stopped the obese man from even being able to reach his belly button. The man had eaten until he was beached under all his lard and stuck on his own bed in a reclined position. “Sir, I’m not sure if that’s part of my job-“ “-I don’t… give a fuck… I’ll pay extra… just rub me, boy!” I pulled over a chair, one of the few that were not broken, and set it down near his side. I leaned over his fat thigh and started to caress his weighty love-handle. Despite being in a haze from his belly-bursting fullness, Mr. Jacobs reached lazily under his moob and took out his phone. He quickly started typing away, with his mouth hung open as he moaned from my rubbing him. I rubbed in clockwise circles – this was the best way to help with digesting food. The immobile, beached whale of a blob continued to type and type on his phone. He then reached back under his doughy moob and pulled out his wallet. His fat fingers lazily fumbled for his credit card, which he eventually managed to pull out. He rested his credit card on top of his chest as if it were a desk. “What are you doing, Sir?” “What... do you think? I’m buying… more food… It’s almost dinner time… you want… anything from… Chan’s, boy?” “Sir, I don’t think you should be eating. I’m here to get you active again. You should be ordering something light, with low calories-“ “I’mma stop you there,” The looming mountain range of lard lazily reached his fat hand down and grabbed the collar of my shirt. He pulled me in close, nearly forcing me onto my feet and pulling me in against his love handles. My face was centimeters from his fat nipple. “You are here… to feed me… to do as I say… to rub me… You ain’t changing… anything about me… Those other nurses… tried and failed… I’m meant to be like this… I’m a real fuckin’ man… Back in the day… weight was a sign… of power and wealth… Hate to break it to ya, boy… but you’ll never stop me… from eating…” With each lethargic wheeze and every baritone murmur, the sea of lard that I was being pulled up to rippled and wobbled. The bed groaned and popped loudly. I could hear some of the wooden planks start to splinter as I was now leaning against the already weakening bed frame. I just looked up at the swollen fat face that glared down at me. Mr. Jacobs let go of my shirt, and I peeled away from his gelatinous flesh. After the incident, I decided to just keep rubbing his belly. Mr. Jacobs huffed and puffed angrily as he completed his order. He commented that I would only be able to eat the left-over scraps if I behaved. I did not want him to contact my supervisor – this was my first real client and something was interesting about him – this huge, mountainous tub of lard. Under my fingers and palms was a sea of soft lard. The blubber only seemed to wobble and slosh as my hands gently caressed its canvas. My eyes gazed across the landscape of fleshy tones in front of me. The size. The vastness. The weight of it all. It started to feel…hot. I could feel my mouth water as I continued to gawk at the obese glutton – the man who ate himself into immobility. The man who beached himself on his bed after years of stuffing himself until his belly was about to burst. -DING-DONG- The ringing doorbell knocked me from my euphoria. I looked up at Mr. Jacobs and he took his fat hand and shoved me away. He wheezed and demanded I answer the door, and I did as he asked. At the door were three delivery boys, each carrying about 5 bags of Chinese food in each hand. I had them put the bags on the ground, and I brought them in for Mr. Jacobs. He had me empty the bags and place the cartons and boxes of food on the rolling cart next to him. There was more than enough food to feed over 20 adults. I pulled out dozens of boxes of white rice, several trays of lo mein, a large container packed with sauce packets, and over a dozen containers of sauce drenched General Tsao’s Chicken. This was only from the first few bags. As fast as I was pulling them out, Mr. Jacobs was ripping into them. He tossed the silverware and chopsticks aside. All he did was bring the containers up to his face and dump the contents into his fat mouth. I watched in awe as the gluttonous beast ate and ate. It was as if he had never eaten before in his life. “Jack me off… while I eat…” The obese glutton commanded. “What? I really don’t think I can-“ “-You’re job boy… is to…mmmfff… help me… with my… needs, right?” “…yes, sir…” “Don’t keep… me waiting!” He immediately returned to stuffing himself. I walked over to the front of his vast belly. Bits of rice and chicken fell down from his mouth and rolled down the large sloping gut. I started to slide my hand under the front of his stomach, reaching deeper and deeper inside. The warmth of his soft, ravenous belly smothered my hand under its vast weight. Next, my wrist slid underneath. Then my forearm. Then my elbow. Finally, my upper arm slipped under his gut, and still, I did not feel any signs of a fat pad nor dick. Mr. Jacobs leaned forward. The weight of his belly felt increasingly heavy and pinned my arm against the bed. Mounds of looming belly fat rolled forward, spilling against the side of my head as I was stuck in place. He looked down at me from atop his mountain range of blubber and scoffed. With a mouth filled with fattening, greasy slop, he commented, “Ya never… jacked off… a man like me have ya?” I shook my head. “Well… ya can’t… reach it… like that… gotta go in… from the side… less fat in… the way…” He leaned back and panted heavily. I felt his heavy gut ease off of my arm. I slid it out and walked back over to his side. I leaned over his fat, immobile leg. My tight torso sinking into his blubbery thigh. I reached my hand deep underneath his love handle. This time, I was able to trace my fingers along the mounds of fat of his thigh right up to where it met his fat pad. My boney fingers felt the hairs on his fupa. I walked my fingers down, feeling a crevasse form in the supple, warm sack of lard. I slid my hand inside the cleft. My entire arm was submerged under the landscape of pure blubber. Mr. Jacobs moaned softly and continued to stuff his face. The hole was not tight by any means, but it was warm and soft. My fingers alone caused tiny ripples throughout the fat pad. Once I was wrist-deep in his fupa, my hands felt something hard and wet. I wrapped my fingers around it and started to gently play with it. I looked up at the obese glutton and he laughed. That was not his dick. I pulled my arm out, and inside my hand was a small vibrator. It was covered in partially dried cum and covered in hairs. Mr. Jacobs chuckled and mentioned that right before he got too fat to touch himself, he stuffed a vibrator in his fat pad. That way he could wirelessly turn it on to use it, but it had run out of batteries. He finished by saying he completely forgot it was there, a few hundred pounds later. I left the device aside and reached back in. My head was pressing into his love handle as I was shoulder deep under his fat. The heavy lard sloshed and rippled against me. I could feel his fat churning and his fupa trembling as his cock and balls prepared for my fingers. As my fingers snaked into the warm, hairy cave, whose walls were drenched in some viscous cream, I felt the tip of a fat-engulfed cock. Mr. Jacobs trembled and moaned loudly with a mouthful of food. His tip nearly surged with life as I touched and played with it. I clutched onto whatever I could. The mounds of fat consumed my hand as I adjusted inside the cavernous fat pad. Mr. Jacobs continued to eat and grunt loudly. I could hear the slurping and squelching of the moist fupa as I started to jack off the obese glutton. -SCHLURP-SCHLURP-SCHLURP-SCHLURP- The moans came out louder and louder as I continued to play with the fat man’s dick. Mr. Jacobs even stopped stuffing his face to tilt his head back and moan with pleasure. The bed began to groan, and the legs started to snap as the immobile ocean of fat started to use all of his energy to hump my closed fist. I held my hand still, with my fingers tightly holding his dick, and let him rock his hips back and forth as much as he physically could. Beads of sweat started to trickle down his love handles and land on the back of my head. His tiny, fat-engulfed dick slid in and out of my fingers as I continued to clench tightly. With one last, powerful thrust, I felt his entire body surge and the tip of his meat twitch. A final smack from the side of his immense landscape of fat hit the back of my head. -SNAP-SNAP-TTTHHHUUUDDDD- The bedframe snapped to pieces. We collapsed to the ground. The back of my head was struck by a tsunami of lard and blubber. Mr. Jacobs just moaned loudly as his balls emptied into his fupa, lubricating my fingers. I slowly pulled out my fingers and they were covered in seed. I walked into the bathroom to clean off my hand, then returned with a towel to begin cleaning him off. Mr. Jacobs started to eat again, stuffing his face with more and more Chinese food. He dumped containers of rice and tilted platters of chicken towards his open mouth. I barely even noticed him chewing – as if he just swallowed it all whole. The obese man, immobilized by an ocean of flab, spent the rest of the night either eating food or commanding me to cook for him. Before it was time for me to leave, I did one last clean up around his house and dragged the broken-down mobility chair into his room. “Would you like me to try and get you a new chair, Sir?” He lazily looked up from stuffing himself, “Hmm… no… don’t bother… Too puny… I’m too heavy…” “I can try to find a larger one…” “No… better off… putting wheels on… a bed, boy…” I shrugged my shoulders and turned around. Before I could take a step, I heard an ominous creak from the floorboards and Mr. Jacob grunting loudly. Soon after, I felt a fat hand cup my rear-end and squeeze firmly. The obese glutton moaned softly and licked his lips. He leaned over as much as he could as if trying to whisper in my ear. My crotch lept in my pants. “Don’t go… too far… boy… Daddy’s gonna… need ya… again…” He huffed between breaths. I smiled. He was quickly starting to grow on me – something about his confidence. Over the next few days, I continued to assist him in all his daily activities. He would just eat away all day and watch me work, and I would periodically try to get him moving. I managed to set up a pulley system above his bed which he could grab and hoist himself up if he laid down, and it doubled as a way to lift his belly. I would hook a tarp up to the pulley and slide it under his gut. The device would lift up his belly, and I would be able to clean underneath it, among other things. At the end of my first week with him, Mr. Jacobs asked me to move in permanently. He would pay for my living expenses and continue to pay me for my services. I didn’t even need to think – I already knew I wanted to. Thus, began a truly great first-client experience.
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Hey @ether-solrac here with a kind of a revision of an earlier idea I've posted before but still a fun/chaotic idea to share. Basically it's the "Miraculous Couffaines" concept.
Ok so it it starts again with a Chloé Couffaine type base with her being an orphan after being put up for adoption by Audrey. Only instead of being adopted by Anakra, she's adopted by Caline making her Chloé Bustier. Throughout her childhood Caline tried teaching Chloé about always doing the right thing and let's just say the lesson stuck a little too well. This is still a Chloé that will kick the crap out of bullies, break rules/laws if it means protecting someone, and actively joining protests against unjust politics. That's where she meets Anakra and the two just immediately bond. She loves her mom but Anakra is the one that really UNDERSTANDS her and her thought process. She's the best bad influence ever.
So it gets to the point where Caline wants to meet this mystery pirate woman that her daughter won't stop talking about, and when they do its just "Holy shit, Raka is that you?!" "Holy shit it's Cali!" and it's basically they used to be highschool/college sweethearts before life unfortunately seperated them and now this little blond bundle of attitude has brought them together again. The family just clicks, Chloé being ecstatic to have siblings and Caline getting along really well with the Couffaine siblings, and maybe a year or two later they're a full family on a massive double decker/physics defying Liberty v2.
Anyways that's the family set-up, now comes the crazy part, and where the dynamic changes the most from the original. So it's time for the miraculous to be chosen and Fu gets like a 2% boost to rational thought and thinks, "ok maybe I should choose actual adults." He chooses Caline for the Ladybug when he studies how compassionate she is with her students and people in general. He then chooses Anakra when he sees how she's committed to chaos as a force of chance for the better through various protests. And just for extra laughs dude has no idea he chose a married couple. Anakra recognizes Caline immediately since, and I quote, "I've studied every last curve on that body, like hell I wouldn't recognize my wife, glamor be damned." it takes Caline getting exactly one cheesy flirt from Anakra to break the glamor and realize who her partner is. Fu immediately gets wrecked when he trys to play favorites with the ladybug becuse there's no way these two keep literally anything secret from each other.
I'm a little less sure how they get the miraculous but essentially the remaining three miraculous of the main five get divded amongst the kids. I'm thinking Fox Luka and the flute gets replaced with either a lute or guitar. He can clearly visualize the heart songs for others to physically see as well. Chloé would still get the Turtle in a futile attempt to get her to be more passive, only she just straight up wails on Akumas with it. Full Captain America. She has a strong protective streak and she'll absolutely take the blows meant for her family but like hell she isnt also the one to throw the first punch. And finally that leaves the Bee for Juleka. I think it fits since she seems like the kind to wait in the background like a nija and wait for the perfect moment to absolutely stab enemies right in the back. Also I like the idea of Juleka getting a sort of royalty theme and playing on Rose's love for princes and princesses to flirt while in costume. Although it's less cheesy flirts and more smooth as fuck kisses on the the back of the hand and chivalry.
Ok so yeah that's the main premise. Just an entire family that's in on the secret and they've just got the strongest Incredibles vibe the entire time. Just a chaos family with a bunch of superpowers and tiny gods thrown into the mix. And that's the final thing, like since all 5 of the kwami just live in the house and don't have to hide they're just honorary members of the family and they just get dragged into the chaos just as much. Stuff like Tikki acting like the third mom. Plagg being a terrible influence. Trixx guiding everyone in pranks. Pollen being like emotional support. Wayzz throwing centuries of wisdom out the window becuase wow this family honestly just took logic and rationality out back and shot it in cold blood huh?
Finally there's the ships. Obviously there's a sort of pre-established Anakraline. Julerose is a great fit like always. I like the idea of the "better love square"/Lukadrigaminette for Luka. Just a chaotic combo that he gets dragged into by accident when all he wanted was to vibe. All that really leaves is Chloé who I think would be nice to have a sort of agnst free ot3 with both Sabrina and Alix since this Chloé wouldn't have the negative history with either. Basically bring back what was supposed to be the original "mean girl" trio and just have them all be friends to lovers. Like Chloé is the overprotective caring one thats just naturally big on physical affection and taking action. Alix is the high intelligence low wisdom member of the trio that's the brains of the operation but lacks any self preservation instincts whatsoever. And finally Sabrina is the tired holder of the common sense and organization skills. She's stressed as hell with these two but she wouldn't give it up for the world. The cuddles are a nice motivator too. This also makes it REALLY easy to make Chloé loves red jokes.
Like usual if you guys want more I can maybe throw out more ideas to add to this. Honestly just consider this a playground to do what you want with. Hope you all enjoy it.
——————-
HOLY SHIT THATS CUTE
We on high Couffaine Hours rn y’all this is great
Ether you did it again you madman
Not sure if I’ll expand this au but this is cute
#ether-solrac#miraculous au#anarka couffaine#caline bustier#chloe bourgeois#luka couffaine#juleka couffaine#crackships#chloe couffaine au#submission
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(Shanghai-related asks)
.
Anonymous said:
Did you see how, supposedly, the reason Marinette goes to Shanghai is bc Adrien is there. Because you know, that's a totally normal thing to do.
You know, there’s this suspension of disbelief where characters are allowed to do certain things that you’re like, “okay that’s not realistic but it’s fun so I don’t mind.”
Yeah, this is not fun.
Anonymous said:
Based on the new trailer for the Shanghai special, one of my biggest fears is that we won't see Marinette interacting with Sabine's family outside of Uncle Wang, even Sabine is nowhere to be seen in the trailer, please ZAG at least give us one of Sabine's parents, we're starving
I’m still rolling my eyes that there’s not one piece of dialog with Sabine talking about stuff related to her family, though her cheongsam is also flipped so--
Anonymous said:
Synopsis for the Shanghai Special: To join Adrien in Shanghai, Marinette is going to visit her uncle Wang who is celebrating his anniversary. But, as soon as she arrives in China, her purse gets stolen with Tikki inside, whom she needs to secretly transform into Ladybug! Without money and alone in the immense city, Marinette accepts the help of a young and resourceful girl, Fei. The two girls will ally and discover the existence of a new magical jewel, the Prodigious. Hawk Moth, also also present in Shanghai, seeks to finding it since a long time... Yea, cause Marinette still hasn’t suffered enough :p
mAriNEtTe mAkeS a mIsTakE iN eVeRY sToRY
Anonymous said:
As someone of Chinese descent, I felt extremely bothered by how miniscule the boy's , the one on the right (?) taking a picture with Adrien, eyes were when I saw the Shanghai trailer. It feels extremely... stereotypical? Not sure if that's the right word. I mean, he could just be squinting, but it still bothers me. Especially if that's their normal eye shape.
I heard similar complaints when Kagami arrived. They really stress the eye shape when it comes to someone full-on Asian (and if you’re half-Asian then you get wholly round eyes which makes no sense). It also gets weird because I feel like we have characters in the show who could pass for Asian (Mireille at least has the proper eye shape without it being over-exaggerated; I don’t remember if her skin tone is correct or not), but when characters are actually Asian, it’s usually taken to the exaggeration.
My sympathy goes out to everyone of Chinese descent who’s going to have to deal with the special. I’m literally a mish-mash of whiteness (American, French, and German) but even I know it must suck.
Anonymous said:
im tempted to watch the Shanghi special with my family, we're part chinese and have been to shanghi a few times. Then we can laugh and yell at it together, no need for show context
omg
As long as you have fun! Give it a good roast for me!
Anonymous said:
Excuse my french (pun intended) but
WHAT EVER LOVING HELL HAPPEN TO THE SPECIAL!!
Marketing.
Also the writers wanting to make sure you don’t forget that Adrien is a guy who exists.
Anonymous said:
Hi, Clarity! If you don't mind me asking, do you have any thoughts on the upcoming Shanghai special based on the information and trailers we have?
When I found out that Marinette was spending time with her great-uncle Wang, I was so excited. I was hoping that this special will be a breath of fresh air and spontaneously focus just on Marinette and her family for once. Maybe we'd explore Marinette's Chinese heritiage and learn more about her mother, Sabine and extended maternal family.
Then I saw Gabriel in which I eye-rolled 180* like any degree of character development. Like... great... more needless Miraculous lore/exposition. (Can we even call it exposition? I doubt any of the Miraculous-related events will be referenced within the show.) Whilst Miraculous lore is great and does expand our knowledge on the Miraculous, it steals any individual focus that Marinette could potentially have. It also tends to "hands everything" to Hawk Moth, who gets almost everything done his way without him even trying. Hmm, I guess as Shadow Moth, he won't have to use Mayura as his catslyst anymore. He'll have to ruffle his own feathers. (I don't know why I'm making a bird joke about Gabriel here. I hate him snd I couldn't care less about him.)
Also by reading the special's synopsis, it mentions that Adrien and Gabriel go to China for an unknown reason (maybe business related.) So Marinette decides to go to spend time with him (also spend time with Wang concurrently.) This might be a minor issue but I don't want Adrien to always be the centre focus of Marinette's motivations/desires. (He isn't always but I feel he is more than he should be.) Let our beautiful amazing girl just have an amazing time with her family in China. The writers need to stop Adrien being an integral part of Marinette's character. This special should be about Marinette (along with her family) and them solely.
Moreover, I'm worried that Marinette will imminently be embarassed/scolded/humiliated in some way. The synopsis mentions that she loses her bag (that contains Tikki.) Inevitably, she's going to be scolded for this for not being careful. The writers will blame her for the destruction that Hawk Moth will cause and not the actual man terrorising Shanghai himself. And no needless lovesquare drama please. If I'm not interested in it in Paris, don't think I'll be interested in it in Shanghai. And please do not let it be used to cause Mari/LB to suffer. Romance (no matter how contrived it is in this show) should be about finding joy and happiness. It should never intentionally be a burden for anybody, especially if it's for comedic purposes. Why am I worried that CN will yell at LB this time?
Maybe I'm just being pessimistic. I hope that the writers actually have them communicate properly about this time. Like they should both be honest (an important aspect of healthy relationships), to build clarity and to avoid confusion. Like the needless drama in NY could have been avoided if Adrien didn't ignore Ladybug and actually TRUSTED her by telling her the truth about him going somewhere instead of complacently lying to her, then losing her trust. Both could have told each other that they are going to NY "for personal reasons" without giving too much detail. To prevent suspicion, the writers could have included the American superheroes hosting an event inviting them or asking for their help to defeat that Micromonster guy. LB and CN could have both then collectively made a decision that if anything were to go wrong in Paris, they could quickly use the Horse Miraculous to transport to France in time (like Marinette was advised to do in "Startrain") or use the Rabbit Miraculous to travel back in time/manipulate events. There was no need to make Marinette suffer for the sake of needless lovesquare drama.
However, I love the animation for the special. It is mesmerising and beauitful and the graphics look superb. The atmosphere looks so clean and the nature-aspects (Hawk Moth's hideout) are intricately detailed. The lighting also complements the charactrrs and the settings' colours. A huge round of applause to SAMG for their excellant hardwork for animating this special despite the pandemic!
If you have any worries about the special, free free to do so! I want to conclude my message by thanking you so much for being such a lovely, kind, confident and resilient person. You always confidently express your opinions and strcture your essays clearly and legibly. I always look forward to reading your posts. I know I can always count on you to express our frustrations with the show's writing on our behalf and speak up for Marinette's mistreatment and inustice! 😊
Firstly, thank you! I gotta defend Marinette because we know the show won’t!
Anyway, I agree with basically everything you said. My biggest comments on it are like--
- I’m already tired of places just being used as set pieces for specials. I actually have a history of disliking specials/movies for shows because its purposes is usually just to get people hyped up, but that means big plots with big stakes and I end up thinking, “okay, but why can’t we have that in the show?” That’s always the issue I take with it; movies/specials prove that they can come up with high stakes plots, but we can’t have equivalents in the show because...?
- I officially tune out now anytime Marinette’s crush on Adrien is mentioned. It gets tiring and it just makes me feel bad for her and simultaneously angry at the writers for treating her this way. Add that onto the “Marinette always makes mistakes” rule and it’s clear that they’re creatively bankrupt and needlessly restrict themselves for the sake of making Marinette suffer. I’m just insulted that Gabriel is going to Shanghai for his fashion business but Marinette being into fashion is ignored.
- The animation is nice but whenever I see it, I’m reminded that we couldn’t have much SAMG in Season 4+5 because they were busy working on the special. The show should always take priority over some lame special/movies. I won’t judge the special for it but I’m salty about it regardless.
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Mister Cavill, your dog is kinda fat - Chapter 15
Summary: Veterinarian Olivia Tran has zero time for bullshit. After becoming a mom at age twenty three, the one thing she wants is a good life for her daughter Vanessa. Her ex didn’t want anything to do with her nor the baby and she decided that man are officially banned out of her life. But then she meets Henry Cavill at her clinic and her ban slowly starts to crumble apart. Henry on the other hand is looking for one thing: a family. And when he meets Olivia Tran, he finds just that.
Henry Cavill x Olivia Tran (ofc)
Warnings: None
Wordcount: 2.2k
A/N: This isn’t a very long chapter, but a very important one for the story. I wanted to add this part to yesterdays chapter, but figured it wouldn’t necessarily fit there. Also, I don’t know whether or not I’m going to post a new chapter until the first of September. My new academic year is going to start pretty soon and though I’m really looking forward to it, I’m also a bit stressing out (since it’s going to be online and I have a new class with people I know absolutely nothing about) and when that happens, my writing isn’t the best. I know I have been spoiling you guys with a new chapter every day, but I want to produce the best work I can, so I’m not going to force myself with new chapters. I hope you guys understand 🥰
Masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter
‘Okay, sunshine,’ Henry says, after he scooped up Vanessa up in his arms. She has grown a bit since the beginnings of this year and he notices that she is slowly catching up with her mother. He always thought that she was really tiny for a kid who is almost seven, barely reaching up to her mom’s hip, but now she is slowly moving up to Olivia’s waist.
He walks toward the big poster on the wall. Vanessa and Olivia made that, when he was at the gym yesterday. Olivia wanted something where Vanessa could see how many days until Henry would officially adopt Vanessa. She wanted to make it for her daughter, but Henry notices that he is maybe the one that loves this poster the most. ‘Can you tell me how many days until you are officially my daughter?’
Vanessa wraps her arms around his neck and says to him: ‘Ten days. I can’t wait for those days to be over.’
That last comment alone, makes his heart melt. ‘Me neither,’ Henry admits, bumping his nose against her cheek, causing her to chuckle. Ever since they arrived back from their trip, Vanessa seemed like she had grown up a bit more. He thinks the time spend apart from Olivia was good for her. Not that he is going to force Vanessa to sleepover at his parents every weekend, but it sure eases his mind that he can always rely on his parents and brothers and that Vanessa doesn’t mind.
He hears a plate shatter in the kitchen. With Vanessa still on his arm, he walks towards the kitchen, to see Olivia staring hopelessly at the shards. From the looks of it, she hasn’t placed any of the bacon or eggs on it, so that’s a win. ‘Love, are you alright?’ he asks.
Olivia rubs her face. ‘It just slipped out of my hands,’ she says, her voice trembling a bit. ‘Just stay there, I’ll clean it up.’
Henry frowns. He is aware that she hasn’t been sleeping well these past few days, but when he looks at her, he sees that the fatigue is now really catching up with her. ‘Sweetheart, let me take care of it.’
‘Yeah, mommy,’ Vanessa says. ‘You are not wearing shoes and whenever I drop something of glass and I’m not wearing shoes, you carry me to the couch, so I don’t get shards in my feet.’
Olivia sighs. ‘I can clean it up,’ she mumbles, but that doesn’t convince no one, not even herself.
‘Vanessa, sunshine, you go sit on the couch with Kal and wait for mommy, okay?’ Henry says.
The little girl nods and ushers Kal with her, so they can both sit on the couch. Henry carefully walks over to her and lifts her up in his arms. As he steps over the shards of the plate, he whispers: ‘I love you.’ He feels like she needs to hear it.
‘I love you too.’
He gives her a big kiss, before he helps her on her feet again. ‘Go sit with Vanessa, I’ll finish up breakfast.’
Olivia simply nods and when she plops on the couch, she pulls Vanessa on her lap. Her daughter can’t stop smiling, because she is always happy to cuddle with her mom, so she doesn’t mind at all.
Henry however is still worries about her.
He vacuums up the shards, after he picked up the biggest one and places everything on one big plate, so they can all—expect for Kal of course—eat of it.
‘Mommy,’ he hears Vanessa ask, as he walks up to them. ‘Are you tired?’
‘I am,’ Olivia admits and Henry sits next to them. Vanessa takes a piece of bacon in her hands and bites something off of it. ‘I haven’t really slept well in these past few days.’
‘You want to sleep with my bear tonight?’ Vanessa asks. ‘He always helps me to fall asleep.’
Henry watches closely, to see what kind of reaction she’ll have. And then she lets out a sob.
‘Mommy, don’t cry,’ Vanessa says, shoving the piece of bacon in her mouth and while she is chewing loudly, she wraps her arms around Olivia, who buries her face in the soft hairs of Vanessa.
‘I don’t know why I’m crying,’ Olivia admits in a hoarse tone, before she softly cries.
Henry places the plate on the coffee table, forbids Kal to even look at it and wraps an arm around her shoulders. He doesn’t know what to say to her. It kills him to see his beautiful girlfriend like this. The permanent tears in her eyes finally running over her cheeks and he knows that this is not only bothering him, but also Vanessa.
It’s funny actually, come to think of it, that the mood in the household, is always according to how Olivia feels, which is an indication on its own that Olivia is the most important factor. He shouldn’t be this surprised, since this was also the case back when he grew up. Was his mom annoyed, angry or a bit depressed, the entire household morphed into her mood. If a certain mood would hit his dad, no one seemed to act like him.
Olivia takes a deep breath and announces that she is going to take a shower. She gives Vanessa not one, not two, but five kisses, before she places her daughter on his lap. The two of them watch Olivia walk out of the living room, up the stairs. The second they hear the shower run, Vanessa asks: ‘Why is she like this?’
‘I don’t know, sunshine.’
‘Is it something I did?’
At this point, he doesn’t even know anymore. ‘I have no idea, sweetheart. I don’t think so.’
‘Is it something you did?’
He shrugs.
Vanessa places her head against his. ‘Maybe she doesn’t want you to adopt me anymore.’
Henry isn’t necessarily sure if this thinking in doom scenario’s is a quality he wants for his daughter. ‘I sure hope that is not the case. Maybe your mom just has one of those days where you don’t feel too good. That can happen you know.’ Is he saying this to comfort himself or Vanessa? ‘I think when we are at grandma and grandpa’s place, she’ll feel better.’
‘I hope so,’ Vanessa sighs. ‘I don’t like it when she is like this. That makes me sad.’
He presses a kiss on her temple. ‘Yes, sunshine, that makes me sad too.’
≫≫≪≪
Olivia’s mood is a bit lighter already when Henry stops the car and they get out to walk to the Cavill residence. Henry sends Vanessa a wink, who seems to notice the difference too. She carefully grabs her mom’s hand as they walk towards his parents’ place.
Olivia looks at Vanessa and smiles. ‘What’s wrong, sweetheart?’ she asks, when Vanessa won’t stop looking at her.
‘Are you okay?’ Vanessa asks.
They stop walking at the beginnings of the path and Olivia crouches down. ‘I was acting a bit weird this morning, wasn’t I?’
Vanessa agrees. ‘I don’t like it when you are like that.’
‘I don’t like it when I’m like that either,’ Olivia says. ‘I’m really sorry. Sometimes you feel like this and you haven’t got a clue why. That happened to me this morning.’ She wraps her arms around Vanessa’s waist, who is more than happy to hug her back. ‘I’m so sorry, sweetheart.’
‘It’s okay, mommy. It can happen to anyone.’ Vanessa gives her mom a kiss, before she rushes towards the door with Kal.
Henry holds out his hand for Olivia to take and he pulls her up.
‘I’m sorry,’ Olivia says to him.
He simply shakes his head. ‘Don’t feel sorry.’ He pulls her into a tight hug and kisses her forehead. ‘Are you sure though everything is fine?’
‘I am,’ she says, nodding in the process. She stands on her tippy toes, so she can give him a kiss. He hums against her lips, because he missed this.
‘Disgusting people at the end of the path,’ Piers yells, causing them to look up. He leans against the doorframe and says: ‘There are single people around here, who really don’t need to see that.’
Henry chuckles, taking ahold of Olivia’s hand as they walk together to the house. He always likes it when he can bring the two most important people to his parents’ place. Vanessa feels so at home here and ever since Belle started to date his brother Simon, she’s here a lot and it’s nice to see Olivia being so happy to see her friend here.
The Cavill family is slowly but surely expanding and he is not complaining at all. This is what his mother wanted and he is happy to help out.
‘Is Olivia okay?’ his mom asks, about an hour after they arrived. Everyone is spread around over the house.
Belle and Olivia are talking in the corner of the room, as they stare at pictures, Simon, Niki and Charlie are gaming and his dad and Piers are the victims of Vanessa’s make-up kit.
‘She just has one of those days. It was worse this morning, but she is better now.’ Henry wraps his arm around his mom’s shoulders. ‘Ten days until the adoption,’ he says, not wanting to talk about Olivia’s behavior anymore, since he can’t seem to wrap his own mind around the issue. ‘I can’t wait anymore.’
‘Oh honey, it’s practically the only thing your dad and I can ever discuss nowadays. We are so happy that it’s going to be official.’ Mom pats him on his chest. ‘I always knew that you would make an excellent dad,’ she admits. ‘And you are doing such a good job.’
‘Thanks mom.’ He rubs his face and clears his throat. ‘They are the best that could ever happen to me.’
‘Thank God for you overfeeding your fat dog, otherwise you would’ve never met Olivia.’
‘Mom, he finally has reached a healthy weight,’ he defends himself. ‘Don’t call him fat anymore.’
‘Just messing with you, my dear.’
Since it’s April, they go outside. His brothers, Henry himself and Vanessa are running over the grass with a ball. His parents, Belle and Olivia are sitting on the porch drinking tea, but even from here, Henry notices Olivia’s mind is somewhere else.
When Vanessa trips, all the Cavill men gasp and are ready to lift her up again. Like the real trooper she is, she stands up and looks at them with a frown. ‘I can get up myself. I don’t need help for that. I’m not a baby anymore.’
Belle applauses from the side and yells: ‘Yeah girl, you tell them that. You don’t need no man!’
‘See?’ Vanessa asks with a sassy tone, causing them to laugh. She kicks away the ball, but then looks at her mom, who seems to simply stare at her shoes and didn’t notice what just happened. It’s obvious that Vanessa seeks much approval from her mom, who is the best role model she could’ve imagined. Her heart is broken and that breaks Henry’s heart. He knows that it’s not Olivia’s intention to hurt her daughter.
‘Sunshine,’ Henry says, crouching down in front of her, placing his hand on her back, hoping that it brings a bit of comfort.
‘She didn’t hear,’ she mumbles, obviously distraught.
‘I know, but we’ll tell mommy about it when we are back home, okay?’
Vanessa sighs, but nods anyways. ‘Yeah, you are right.’
They watch as Olivia excuses herself and she walks inside. He stares at his beautiful girlfriend and he leans over to Vanessa. ‘How about I talk to mommy right now?’
‘Could you do that?’ Vanessa asks, a hopeful glimmer in her eyes.
‘Of course, because I’m a bit worried about her too.’ He gives her a quick peck, jokingly pulls her pigtail, causing her to giggle and he walks inside. Henry can’t seem to find her right away, but then he hears the flushing sound of the toilet. He recognizes the door opening with the well-known creak, something that hasn’t changed in all those years and Olivia’s footsteps.
She yelps when she notices him. ‘Oh shit,’ she says, looking paler then before.
‘Are you okay?’ he asks. He doesn’t even try to hide his worries anymore, because she should know how he feels.
‘I’m fine,’ she says.
He doesn’t believe her and he walks up to her. He holds her tiny hands in his and wants to lean in, giving her a quick kiss, but she pulls back.
She never pulls back.
‘Don’t, sweetheart, I’m disgusting.’
He truly needs to check what’s wrong with her, because this is an upright lie. ‘You are never disgusting.’
‘I just puked,’ she groans.
‘Are you sure you okay? You think you got a stomach ache?’
Olivia sighs deeply. ‘Henry,’ she says, ‘you know I love you right?’
This is giving him a minor heart attack and he squeezes her hands. ‘Is this a break up?’
Her eyes widen and she shakes her head. ‘No, no, no, of course not sweetheart. I have something to say to you, but first I need you to know that I love you.’
That is slightly easing his mind. ‘What do you think, sweetheart?’ he chuckles. ‘Of course I know that you love me and please know that I love you a lot.’ He leans in and gives her a kiss on her nose. ‘Are you sure you’re alright?’
‘Henry,’ she whispers, ‘I think I might be pregnant.’
#henry cavill#henry cavill x ofc#henry cavill x oc#mister cavill your dog is kinda fat#henry cavill fanfic#henry cavill x Olivia Tran
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Kids Have Terrible Timing (Biadore) - Sarcastacnt
Summary; One of Roy and Danny’s two daughters has a tendency to get over excited at the smallest things and at the worst possible time for her fathers.
“We can always return her right?”
“See, this is what happens when we trust your genes. Let’s take a second to notice how the spawn with my genes is basically a Saint compared to her sister.”
Danny pulled a face and whacked Roy with a pillow. “Not what you said when she ruin, how many of your gowns was it again? 9?”
“It was 15 and you know it.” Roy grumbled still puzzled at how the then five year old Sabrina had gotten a hold of the gowns, let alone figured out how to work his sewing machine. Something that still eluded Danny.
“Let’s just agree that they’re both evil in their own special ways.” Danny offered, trying desperately not to laugh at the pained expression on Roy’s face.
Roy snorted, “Not much longer until they go through puberty. That’s when we cash in all those offers to babysit from Shane.”
Danny groaned and flopped down dramatically against the bed. “Two teenage girls in one house. What the fuck were we thinking?”
Roy shrugged, “Probably that at least one of them would be a boy.”
Danny laughed, “At least then they wouldn’t bug to borrow our drag. Well, your drag.”
Roy laughed at the memory of the two dark haired girls gasping in disbelief at the room full of princess gowns and lumberjack clothing. “Still can’t believe how good that read was, fucking lumberjack.” He was still snickering when Danny decided he was no longer comfortable laying on the bed.
With a surge of power from his left leg he moved to straddle Roy’s hips. “You’re the one who married a lumberjack Haylock.”
Roy automatically dropped his hands to rest on Danny’s thighs. “You married a princess, least I’m still gay in this version of reality.”
Danny snorted, “Whatever, that makes you a princess, least I’m still a man.” He leaned forward and licked Roy’s neck before whispering in his ear. “Although every single time I’ve fucked you while you were dressed as a princess was hot as hell. You really should let me fuck you in drag more often.”
Roy let out a groan as Danny squirmed on his lap. “Why would I put a bunch of clothes on for sex? Doesn’t being naked make everyone’s lives easier?”
Danny began kissing Roy’s jaw, taking a familiar path down to the collar of Roy’s shirt. “I meant when we preform asshole.” He said as he started to work the buttons of Roy’s shirt open.
Roy rolled his eyes, “Because normally after we preform you’re so fucking horny that you beg to get fucked.” Roy brought both hands crashing down on Danny’s ass, “Remember?”
Danny started to kiss his way down Roy’s chest now that the button down was pushed open. “Fuck yeah I do.” He looked up at Roy, eyes gone a little glassy with arousal. “Speaking of which, it’s been quiet for almost an hour. We should probably take advantage while we can.”
Roy chuckled and began to tug at Danny’s shirt. “You’re absolutely right.” When Danny didn’t move to remove his shirt quick enough, Roy rolled them so he was on top. He quickly pulled off the light sleep pants Danny wore and began stroking the already half hard cock. “Doesn’t take much to get you going, does it?” he teased before taking Danny’s erection into his mouth.
“Never has.” Danny admitted before groaning at the very talented tongue that was quickly turning his brain to mush.
Roy held out his hand, without stopping the blow job and Danny reached blindly for the small bottle of lube on the nightstand. He pushed it into Roy’s hand before letting his head fall back against the pillows.
Wasting no time, Roy lubed up two fingers and pressed them into Danny. It only took a few thrusts before Danny was demanding that Roy ‘stop fucking around and put your dick in me!’. With such a sweet request, how could Roy refuse? He pushed his own sleep pants down and lubed up his erection before taking a second to tease Danny’s entrance.
“Fuck me Roy!” Danny demanded, his hips lifting off the bed in frustration.
“Fine, but next time we have time I’m gonna make you pay for being an Impatient bitch.” Roy said as he grabbed Danny’s hips and started to push himself inside-
“DADDY!!!”
*CRASH, SLAM, BANG*
Roy didn’t know how he did it but somehow he got both of them covered up under the blanket before 6 year old Stevie managed to scramble up on the bed.
“Stevie remember how we talked about knocking? And you’re not listening to me at all, are you?” Roy sighed as he swung his legs over the far side of the bed and pulled his pants up. Danny had no chance to pull anything on, Stevie was not only on the bed but sitting happily on Danny’s stomach.
“Daddy! I found something cool! You gotta come see this!” the little girl had a big grin on her face as she waved her hands in the air. Stevie’s grin was an exact match for Danny’s (pre lip injections, of course). In fact Stevie was the spitting image of Adore, especially on the odd occasion her fathers put her in make up. Not only was the physical resemblance strong but both Stevie and Danny were two of the loudest people Roy had ever met.
A quiet knock at the open door caught Roy’s attention. He looked up to see blue eyed eight year old Sabrina shaking her head in exasperation. “Sorry dad, I tried to remind her to knock but…” she trailed off with a shrug, gesturing to the excited noises coming from the bed as Stevie and Danny talked about something Roy couldn’t quite catch.
Roy chuckled, “It’s okay, I understand my love. What were you two doing anyways? I thought we said goodnight an hour ago.”
Sabrina walked around the bed, giving it a wide berth. She had walked too close to the bed once during a similar situation just in time for Stevie to launch herself off the bed (much to her fathers horror) and land on not only her feet but her sister’s as well. “I showed her a book.”
Roy ached an eyebrow, “Why is she so excited about a book.”
Sabrina made a huffing noise as she crawled up on the bed to sit next to Roy. “There were no pictures in it.”
“You’re telling me your sister is losing her mind over a book, without pictures?” Roy could feel his eye start twitching.
Sabrina nodded, “Are you sure she’s really my sister?” she eyed Roy suspiciously.
Roy sighed, they had this conversation every few weeks. “Yes Rini, you both have the same mother, remember?” Roy remembered the initial thrill when they discovered that the surrogate they had used for Sabrina was more then happy to take on another pregnancy for the pair when they decided to expand their family a year and a half later.
“Are you really sure? Did you check?” Sabrina grilled her father as she watched Stevie and Danny (who had managed to pull pants on while he was distracted with Sabrina) rush out of the room to get a look at this ‘amazing book’ that Stevie had discovered.
“Yes Rini I’m a hundred percent sure she’s your sister. Besides she acts just like Dad, doesn’t she? I promise she’s part of this family.”
Sabrina frowned, “Whatever. I’m gonna go make sure they don’t break my stuff.” She hopped off the bed, her long twin braids floating behind her as she stormed off after them.
Roy fell back into bed and began laughing uncontrollably. He had no idea which part of the last five minutes he found so funny. The interrupted sex, Stevie’s excitement over a book without pictures or Sabrina’s continued irritation that her sister was insane.
Tears were streaming down his face, high pitched giggles still escaping him and abdominal muscles cramping when Danny returned.
“She’s nuts.” Danny proclaimed as he flopped down next to Roy.
A minute later, Roy managed to get his laughter under control. “Was she really that excited over a book with no pictures?”
Danny nodded, eyes wide in disbelief. “War and Peace! I didn’t know books could get that big! That shit’s more complicated then anything I ever read!”
Roy nodded, “Katya was reading it last time her and Trixie were over with their hellspawns. She probably forgot it here.” They almost always used drag names when referring to Brian and Brian just to save themselves the confusion.
Danny snorted, “Least we had time to breathe between kids. I don’t know how they managed 3 at once! Like who even has triplets?”
“Trixie and Katya do, poor bastards. If two teenage girls seems like a nightmare waiting to happen, imagine three hormonal teenage boys. The structural damage alone may just bankrupt them! If those two weren’t bald already that’s what would finally do it. Trying to figure out how much to add to the budget for household repairs every week.” Roy mused, choosing to ignore the fact that while he and Danny did in fact have one less kid, one of said kids shared genetic material with Danny. Roy hoped, not for the first time that Stevie calmed down as she got older. Last thing he needed was one of his daughters proudly proclaiming to be a ‘messy slut’. The thought of the generally sweet (if loud) Stevie strutting around in a mini skirt and low cut shirt made Roy shiver in fear.
“We’re never gonna have sex again, are we?” Danny half heartedly complained, lacing his fingers with Roy’s as they looked at each other with tired smiles on their faces.
Roy released Danny’s hand and rolled so he was on top of his husband. “So dramatic.” Roy teased as he captured Danny’s lips in a breath taking kiss.
It wasn’t long before Danny was a moaning, begging mess under him. Roy sighed in relief as he entered Danny roughly, rather pleased with himself for the broken sound that tore itself from Danny’s lips.
“DADDY!!!!”
“I’m taking her back!” Danny proclaimed loudly as Roy pulled away from him and managed to get their pants back on before Stevie came flying into their room again. This time she was screaming something about the ‘coolest bug ever!
Wasn’t parenting fun?
A/N Thank you to the annon who requested a kid fic where Roy and Danny keep getting interrupted. Swore I’d never write one of these but hey, here we are! I’m also tempted to continue this but for the moment it stands alone.
The girls names; Stevie is named for Stevie Nicks of Fleetwood Mac fame and Sabrina is name for an alternative name for a boat neck collar. I know nothing about fashion so that’s what a quick Google search pulled up.
As for the teasing each other about which kid has which genes, it doesn’t mean they love either kid less then the other. I think most parents like to harass their partner about who is responsible for which less desirable trait their off spring demonstrates. Like when Sarabi says to Mufasa in The Lion King “Before sunrise, he’s your son.”
#rpdr fanfiction#biadore#adore delano#bianca del rio#canon compliant#parenting au#kid fic#married#fluff#almost smut#request fic#sarcastacnt
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Pretty
ATEEZ Extra Member AU
Summary: Just some fluff with Yoori and her stylist.
Warnings: none
Taglist: @hyunmijung @galacticstxrdust @giant-puppy-yunho @kimonmars @soobinssmile @nlost21
A/N: This gif is what inspired this post. Hope you enjoy!
Requests are open! Please let me know what you think.
“Has anyone seen Yoori?” a stylist called out as she looked around the room filled with ATEEZ and staff preparing for their performance. They had been asked to perform at a summer festival alongside a few other groups.
“Last time I checked, she was by the back wall,” Mingi said from his seat in front of the mirror.
The stylist, Jia, nodded and walked over to where Mingi had pointed out. The back wall had a couch and some single chairs lined up, and Yoori was there, but on the floor. She had her knees pressed to her chest, her forehead resting on them.
“Yoori-ah?” Jia called out walking towards the girl. Yoori didn’t stir and Jia had a feeling that Yoori was probably sleeping.
Squatting in front of her, Jia reached out and shook Yoori’s arm gently. The girl groaned, lifting her head up slowly. She gave Jia a sleepy smile.
“Hi,” she whispered, letting out the tiniest yawn. Jia cooed at the sight.
“Hi, Sleeping Beauty,” she greeted, and Yoori flushed at the name. “It’s time to get your makeup and hair done,” Jia said, standing up and holding her hand out for Yoori to take.
“Okay,” the purple haired girl said, blinking owlishly. She was still trying to wake up. Shaking her head slightly, she reached out for Jia’s hand, and was pulled to her feet. Yoori swayed a bit and Jia had to place her arm around her waist as she guided her to an empty chair.
Yoori loved their staff. They were always so nice and fun and she’d never trade them for anyone, but Jia was her favorite. She was the sweetest unnie ever and she loved to talk to Yoori about anything. She also always did Yoori’s makeup so pretty. Yoori felt like a princess whenever Jia was done with her.
“Unnie, I’m still tired,” Yoori yawned again as she sat down. The seat was raised high so Jia could properly reach her face, Yoori’s feet dangled in the air. She absently kicked them back and forward.
“I’m sorry, baby. Did you not sleep well last night?” Jia asked Yoori as she began to do her hair. For today’s performance, Yoori was going to have two dutch braids, with little silver rings looped in each twist. It was simple, but with the rings and the glitter that Jia was going to spray on, it’d be beautiful.
Yoori shook her head. She had stayed up last night gaming. She was stuck on a level and couldn’t go to sleep until she passed it. By the time she made it to the next level she was so engrossed in the game that she kept playing. Before she knew it, it was morning and time to get ready.
“I was gaming,” she whispered shamefully, looking down.
Jia chuckled, shaking her head. “What are we gonna do with you?” she asked and Yoori looked up at her, smiling sheepishly.
“Love me. Feed me. Never leave me,” Yoori answered, giggling. Jia rolled her eyes, but smiled even wider. None of that staff would ever dream of leaving any of them, especially not Yoori.
Jia continued to work on Yoori’s hair. Fixing fly aways, spraying parts down, adding the rings, then spraying the glitter. As she worked, Yoori chatted with her and whichever boy came up to talk to her.
Currently, Yunho had walked up and leaned his back on the counter behind him, facing Yoori. He fed her some crackers and cheese as she happily swung her feet. Yunho smiled at her, as her cheeks expanded with each bite. She nibbled on a cracker as she listened to Yunho and San talk about a drama that they had watched.
“Yunho. You’re turn,” another stylist called out. The giant nodded, then gave Yoori a little pat on her head, smiling.
“Bye, Yunnie,” Yoori waved. She watched as he walked over to the stylist, then she began to wipe the crumbs off her lap.
Jia laughed as she moved in front of Yoori to start her makeup. Yoori had crumbs on her cheeks, and looked up at her with big doe eyes. “And I thought Yeosang was a messy eater,” Jia shook her head as she dusted the crumbs off Yoori’s cheeks.
The dancer hummed, smiling up at Jia. she watched as she began to wipe her face of any residue from yesterday’s makeup, then began to apply primer. Jia moved to stand between Yoori’s legs to be able to better reach her face, and Yoori tilted her head back to give her more access.
“I want extra glitter today, Unnie,” Yoori said, starting at Jia. “Please,” she quickly added, and Jia smiled at how well mannered she was.
“Of course, Yoo,” she said, already planning on where the extra glitter would go. She was planning on giving her a blushy look and knew that the heavy glitter on the bridge of her nose and the tops of her cheeks would be perfect.
“Thank you,” Yoori whispered. She stayed silent for the next few minutes as Jia continued to work, not wanting to distract Jia. Yoori wrapped her arms around Jia, clasping her hands together and resting them on the small of Jia’s back. She looked up at the older and smiled as she kept working. Jia smiled back, looking down at Yoori.
This was a normal occurrence with them. Yoori loved to cuddle and was constantly found latched on to someone, and Jia never minded. It actually made it easier for her to do Yoori’s makeup. That may have been another reason why Jia was Yoori’s favorite. The cuddles.
“That’s looking really nice, Beanie,” Seonghwa came over to exam Jia’s work.
“Unnie always makes me look pretty,” Yoori said, looking at the eldest out of the corner of her eye, not wanting to move too much.
“This is true,” he nodded, patting her shoulder as he walked off.
“It’s ‘cause she’s the best,” Yoori said, looking up at Jia, beaming. She tightened her hold on her, and had to fight the urge to snuggle into her stomach.
Jia laughed and poked her cheek. “As if you need makeup to look pretty,” Jia said, gently patting her head, not wanting to mess up her work.
Yoori blew out some air and rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I just like it when you put glitter on me,” she grinned.
“Do you want more?” Jia asked, seeing that she could add a bit more before it looked like a unicorn sneezed on her.
“Yes, please,” Yoori nodded her head excitedly.
“More glitter it is,” Jia said, reaching for the little container that held the glitter.
“Anymore glitter and you’ll fly away, Tinkerbell,” Yeosang said as he stood behind her and looked at her reflection in the mirror. “Looks good though. Pretty as always,” he said before he walked away, smiling. Yoori flushed at the comment, knowing it meant more now than before.
“Hmm, did I add on too much blush?” Jia asked, taking a look at Yoori’s rosy cheeks.
Yoori avoided her eyes. “Yeah. Maybe,” she mumbled, then added. “Can I add a star on the outside corner of my eye?”
Jia thought for a bit then nodded. “I don’t see why not,” she answered, reaching for the face art stickers.
Yoori let out a small breath as Jia focused on the rest of her makeup.
Yoori’s Masterlist
#ateez#ateez au#ateez 9th member#ateez fanfic#ateez scenarios#ateez reactions#ateez oneshot#kpop scenarios#kpop reactions#kpop oneshots#female kpop additions#kim hongjoong#park seonghwa#jeong yunho#kang yeosang#choi san#song mingi#jung wooyoung#choi jongho
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King in the ring
Another amazing story I got from @writer-ofstuff, featuring Derek of Teen Wolf.
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‘If you want to see your guy again then you will come alone to this address at midnight.'
Derek read over the note he found in Stiles dorm room, fuming that someone was dumb enough to take the younger man. The person had to know what Derek was since the note was addressed to him and not Stiles's father. Which made Derek believe the person behind this could possibly be a werewolf Hunter who is using Stiles as a way to get to Derek.
Derek had no idea who could be behind this, what werewolf hunting family they were from, if they were rogue ones, or if they even were hunters to begin with and not some other supernatural being. So Derek had no choice but to do as the inte instructed and come alone. Because when it came down to it Derek would always choose Stiles over himself if it meant the younger man he cared so much for was safe.
The address Derek was told to go to ended up being at a community auditorium where special events were often held at. An odd location to request to meet at, but Derek wasn't going to question it too much. He easily found a way inside, listening carefully for any indication of where the people and Stiles were at within the building.
Derek can hear talking in one large room, the room if he recalls right is one of the larger rooms in the auditorium where wreslting matches and leagues were often hosted there. Pushing the doors open, Derek is met with a large spotline shining on him when he steps through the doors. He winces his eyes. And brings his hand up to bloc, out the harsh light while music starts blaring within the room and a loud voice speaks.
"Our guest of honor has finally arrived. Please welcome to the ring Derek Hale! " a deep voice man spoke into the microphone. Cheers of men that filled the seats I'm the audience clapped and cheered. Derek startled at it all, wondering why he didn't sense this many people before he came into the room. Wondering if magic was behind this or something that made his werewolf senses not work as they should have.
Derek steps towards the ring, unsure what else to do. His face sat into an annoyed scowl as he climbed up into the ring and is met by a large man in the center of the ring.
He is taller than Derek by a good couple of inches. The man looks a few years older than Derek and wears only a pair of spandex orange and red designed shorts, boots and a wrestler mask that shares the same color scheme as the spandex shorts do. The man's face is obviously concealed by the mask, but Derek can see a blonde beard surrounding the man's mouth in the opening of the mask. The man has two different colored eyes, one blue eye and one green, he stares into Derek's eyes, smirking smugly at the werewolf.
"Seems like our guest has arrived for the special event tonight gentlemen." The man says, his voice sounding surprisingly smooth for such a big hairy brute that he is.
"Where is Stiles." Derek asks, cutting to the chase.
"Aww now where would be the fun in me just telling you so you can just end up retrieving him and leaving before we begin to have our match." The man says.
"You can call me Slayer by the way, in case you were wondering who I am."
"I don't care what your stupid stage name is or whatever the hell this is you have going on here, I want my boyfriend back. Now." Derek says coldly, allowing his eyes to glow alpha red to show he isn't joking around. Only the gesture doesn't seem to intimidate the big guy at all, in fact it seems to only make him seem more excited, his grin growing wider.
"Now this is why I sought you out and had to bring you here at whatever it took to do so. You got a real fire to your personality and I always wanted to see if I could take an alpha werewolf, especially one who comes from such a powerful bloodline of born werewolves." Slayer says.
"I won't fight you or play into your twisted act, I just want Stiles back." Derek replies, his voice growling, growing frustrated and annoyed with the spotlights, the loud music, and the chattering of the fans in the crowds.
"Well if you want your Stiles back then you have no choice but to play along in my special wrestling match. Which you must win by the way, as if it would be hard for you to do since you're a werewolf and I'm just a human after all." Slayer says, sounding like he is taunting Derek with that last part.
This didn't sit well with Derek, no doubt this guy was up to something. He wanted to fight a werewolf like Derek, and yet he mentioned how he was just a human and how the match should essentially be easy and in Derek's favor. Derek would have to keep his guard up, not be distracted at all since he had to do this stupid match in order to get Stiles freed from this weirdo wreslter.
"Fine, let's get this over with." Derek growls. He tosses off his leather jacket and takes a stance, only to be thrown something by Slayer.
"If you're going to do this then you're going to have to dress the part, Wolfman." Slayer says.
Derek looked down to see a purple wrestlers mask was what was thrown at him. He can smell the musk and sweat that dampened the mask which makes him disgusted by just holding it let alone putting such a nasty thing on his head.
"I am not wearing this disgusting thing." Derek tells Slayer who looks amused.
"Oh you will wear it Derek, because it is part of the act." Slayer tells him.
"Unless you don't want to free Stiles from where I have him hidden. Makes no difference to me since I would win either way." He adds smugly.
Derek's scowl darkens at the larger man. Steeling himself Derek puts the musky sweat stained and soaked mask over his head. He already feels humiliated and disgusted, but thankfully the crowd around them doesn't laugh nor mock him for wearing such a nasty thing, if anything they seem to be cheering louder than they were before Derek put the mask on.
"Let's get this over with." Derek says once he has the mask on over his head.
"Yes, let's give these men a show they'll love." Slayer says as the bell dings for the match to begin.
Derek had thought he would have this match done with already. He assumed he had the upper hand with him being a werewolf and Slayer being human, and yet the wrestler was keeping Derek on his toes, easily taking and evading Derek's attacks.
"What's wrong Wolfman, tired already?" Slayer taunts as he circles Derek and lunges at him. He catches Derek by surprise and his pulled into Slayer's arms and his face shoved into Slayer's thick hairy pits.
Derek is startled by such a move that he freezes up, feeling the sweat from Slayer's pits smear all over Derek's face. Derek is thankfully that he has the mask on so the mask absorbs some of the sweat, although he can still smell the sweaty musk from Slayer's pits. Unaware that the sweat and musk, along with what covered the mask when he put it on, has started to have an unique effect on the werewolf.
Derek feels himself getting warmer, sweat starting to form on his face under the mask. His body even sweats through his clothes, staining hid puts and the collar of his shirt.
Derek lunges forward this time, grabbing Slayer and then knocks him back into the jump of the ring. Derek's muscles expand in size as he moves, trading hits and exchanging moves with Slayer in the ring.
"Is that the best you got, Wolfman?" Slayer taunts.
"Not even close." Derek replies and moves towards him again.
The match goes on like that, the two trading hits, dodging moves, and they continue to trash talk one another. Derek's shirt ends up getting torn so he just finishes tearing it off his body, showing off how much muscle he has gained, now in equal size to Slayer. Derek's torso has also grown hairy. He absentmindedly scratches his furry upper body, his attention still focused on Slayer, determined to win this match for his fans, for Stiles he quickly corrects himself, wondering for a moment why he thought of himself having fans.
He charges and side steps out the way when Slayer throws an arm out to grab Derek to pin him down, only for Derek to do it to him.
"Looks like you're throwing the match in my favor." Derek whispers in Slayer's ear.
"You wish." Slayer tells him. Flipping their positions so now Slayer is on top of Derek.
"How predictable of you Wolfman." Slayer laughs, only to be bucked off and Derek to pin him to the floor of the ring. Derek grinds his erected bulge against Slayer's spandex covered ass. Earning a moan from the wrestling pro which piques Derek's interest, the werewolf feeling himself getting aroused.
"Like that?" Derek asks, poking his erected 13 inch cock into Slayer's ass once more. Slayer nods, and Derek's grin goes wider.
"Such a slut aren't you, in the ring and out of it." Derek muses, pulling down Slayer's spandex shorts, revealing Slayer's round hairy ass. Derek can smell how musky it smells already, it makes him eager to thrust his dick into the tight hairy asshole, so much so that he can't stop himself from doing it.
"Ooh fuck yeah." Slayer moans out loud, sounding just as eager as Derek feels as Derek starts to slowly prep Slayer's semi expanded asshole with his cock.
Each thrust Derek feels guilt that he is cheating on Stiles fade, instead growing more aroused and wanting to blow his load in such a hot piece of ass like Slayer's. More changes befall Derek. His legs grow longer till he is at equal height to the wrestler. His voice deepening as well, Derek feels his balls churning and with one more hard thrust he and Slayer both cum hard, the crowd cheering and echoing moans throughout it fills their ears, no doubt the men the audience getting off to the show Derek and Slayer had put on.
"Seems like I win Mike. Now let Stiles go" Derek says once he slides his dick out of his opponent's asshole. He startles at knowing Slayer's name, Slayer standing up and removing his mask, revealing his handsome face for Derek to see. That and hearing how deep his voice is now also confuses him.
"Yeah, you win this time brother." Slayer, or Mike says. "But why would you want to free our new recruit?" Mike asks, he steps up to Derek, Derek realizing they're at eye level now. Before he can ask why that is Mike is kissing him. Derek freezes into the kiss, but then his mind relaxes and he returns it with just as much passion as Mike does.
Derek forgets himself, forgets being who he was before he came here with the intentions of helping Stiles. Now Derek, Dean as he thinks of himself now. Recalls his new life, being a pro wrestling duo with his twin brother Mike. Mike, known as the Slayer, and Dean the Wolfman, together they make up the team Wolfman Slayer.
Derek removes his mask after the two twin brothers kiss each other. Revealing his face looks the same as Mike's. The two sharing the same short spiky blonde hair, the same trimmed beard along their angular and square jawline and cheeks.
The only differences between them is their eyes Derek's eyes remain the same hazel color they were from before, Dean being hairier than Mike, and his voice much more deeper than Mike's as well.
"You're right brother." Dean says. "Not sure what I was thinking there in wanting to free him. He will make a hot wrestler for our league." Derek says, a grin on his face.
After they wrap up the show and send the crowd home Dean and Mike head to the locker rooms, where they find the young man Mike too. Stiles is bound by old jockstraps, one even forced into his mouth which Dean gives his brother a questioning look.
"What? He wouldn't stop talking so I had to get him to shut up." Mike shrugs.
Dean huffs out an amused laugh and approaches Stiles, who seems to react by trying to break free of his restraints.
"Just relax my guy, you're going to enjoy this as much as we are." Dean tells him, not recognizing that this was a man he once loved and cared about when he was is old self, now all Dean wants to do is use his and his brother's special gift and turn Stiles into another dumb brute wreslter they can use in their wrestling league.
Later as the two twins walk out, a 6'5" brick wall of a man walks out behind them, Tank as he is called in the ring and out it, smiles dim wittedly at his two friends and bosses before taking his leave to hit the gym, with Dean following behind him, Mike however looking at the two as they leave the locker room, pleased with his work in creating two new wrestlers for him to use and gaining a twin. He is eager to see how they both do when they have a real wrestler league when Mike finishes transforming more men that the two once knew before Mike transformed them.
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The breath of life Part 1.
Not really, I just wanted to say something dramatic and I’m looking at breathing systems now.
Humans breathe like so:
You breathe in through the nose, mouth, or both into the trachea. At more or less the same time they contract the diaphragm, a dome-ish shaped muscle that divides your stomach from your chest. By contracting the diaphragm it flattens and so both lowers its top and pushes out its sides, opening the thoracic cage (the ribs) wider, which creates negative pressure on the lungs, causing them to expand. That in turn causes negative pressure inside the lungs which pulls the air from the trachea into the lungs to balance out the pressure. Inside the lungs the 48 million or so Alveolar Sacs bulge with the air and shunt oxygen (and some other stuff) into the blood vessels they’re woven together with, while taking back the Carbon Dioxide (and some other stuff) from them in return. The diaphragm relaxes, squeezing the lungs like they’re bellows, shooting the air back into the trachea which you breathe out through the nose, mouth, or both.
This is called exchange tidal flow. Because it works like the tide of the ocean. Air comes in, air goes out, you make the gas exchange at the peak, where the air is all the way in but hasn’t gone out yet.
Like the tide though, there are inefficiencies in the system. Two of interest. If you’ve ever looked at the tide you’ll have noticed that as one wave comes in, the dregs of the previous wave are still trickling out. There’s an overlap. This happens in breathing as well. Which is why breathing exercises are all about exaggerating the points in the cycle. Breathe in more than you do naturally, hold longer than you do naturally, exhale longer than you do naturally. You are, in essence, controlling the tide to decrease overlap. It’s also part of the reason that when you do all that you breathe in through the nose, the narrower aperture, and out through the mouth, the wider aperture. Because you’re trying to flush as much of the outbreath tide out as possible.
Most bodies are fairly well adapted at getting as much oxygen as they need. And they have a natural enforcement limit. If you can’t get enough, you just can’t keep going. You get tired and you fall over. So the inward tide full of Oxygen is absolutely necessary but it is the tide of lesser concern.
The old truism of death by fire is that the fire’s smoke, the waste product of its chemical reaction, is more likely to kill you than the fire’s flames. Carbon Dioxide is the smoke in this simile. CO2 is one of our bodies’ fundamental waste products and the one we can tolerate the least of. Too much in our system at a given time and it makes it so we can’t get enough oxygen because there isn’t room for the exchange and it poisons us.
CO2 eventually leads to panting for more oxygen that you can’t get, a racing heart rate, arrhythmia so your heart can no longer steadily pump your blood, and “impaired consciousness” like difficulty thinking and being able to move. Concentrations of greater than 10% may cause any or all of convulsions, coma and the big D.
So as important as it is to get Oxygen in, it’s extra important to get that CO2 out. That’s also a part of why long term meditators and conscious breathers tend to feel healthier. They literally do have less toxic material in their bodies.
The second feature of interest for me is dead space.
Not that dead space.
This dead space
Dead space is the amount of space given over to breathing where no gas exchange takes place. Which for us is the trachea, oral cavity, and nasal cavity. If you snorkel, you add in the snorkel because the length of the tube is always used to move the air while having no role in making the breath pay off. It just helps you get the air where it is going. It’s easier to understand with the snorkel because without it, you don’t breathe at all. Necessary, not wasted.
And our natural dead space is much the same. It performs vital functions besides gas exchange. Mostly adjusting the temperature of the air toward our internal body temperature so it’s easier to deal with and the amount of moisture toward where it is easiest to perform a gas exchange.
And another benefit of exaggerating the tide of breath is in there as well. By dividing the air ways, breathe in through the nose and out through the mouth, you can dedicate a short portion of dead space to a particular part of the exchange, allowing for less overlap of the tides and less mixing of CO2 and O2.
But depending on where you put lungs or whatever breathing apparatus they have in a Centaur, there’s the issue of either having a LOT of dead space, too small lungs, or too far to carry the oxygen, or etc. etc. etc.
If there is only one set of lungs. The human lungs are small and there is a lot of body to cover that is very far away from the lungs. So picking that set has issues. The ungulate lungs have a giant dead space though. Way too large. So that’s not great either.
So, is it two sets of lungs that each work that way. I’m not sure that isn’t worse instead of better. Because you would still have the dead space of both. The anterior humanish lungs would have what all mammals do. The posterior ungulate lungs would have what more extreme mammals like giraffe’s have WITH THE ADDITIONAL DIFFICULTY or sharing part of that space with the other lung set. And they’re both using the same set of apertures designed essentially to feed just one set. Unless you do a full redesign and add a second set of intakes for the second lung set. There is apparently a book somewhere out there that has a nose in place of where the humanoid naval would be. Which just doesn’t sit right with me for no particularly good reason. Other than it adds to the pressure problem.
If the lungs aren’t synced right, then you might have the pressures from one set of lungs interfering with the other set. If you modulate the anterior lungs to talk because Centaurs talk like people, then you’re altering the airflow without there necessarily being regard for the posterior lung set, which would up the pressure, forcing an exhale instead of speech. You might get little snippets of talking but unless you exactly sync the lungs will interfere with each other. Worse, if the larger anterior lungs purposely hold their breath because they don’t want to smell some stupid scented perfumery, with it deflated and held, you’ve got a low pressure force pulling on the anterior lungs, keeping them expanded, which is going to make it darn hard to breathe, even once the posterior lungs give up, because the anterior lungs have formed a high pressure block in response, and somehow they would have to force that to deflate before you can rebalance the system. So, all in all, mammalian style lungs just aren’t sounding great to me for Centaurs.
But, thankfully, while mammals are all pretty much the same as people, that’s not the only type of pulmonary system that there is. And some pulmonary systems work much better than ours. So that’s part 2.
Edit: *sigh* respiratory systems. Not pulmonary. RESPIRATORY.
#Foxfoot#worldbuilding#centaur#writeblr#monsterbuilding#lungs#how lungs work#thinking out loud#I'm spending way more time and effort on this than I should#Still having fun though#centaurs#centaur biology#centaur anatomy#respiratory system
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