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urprettylildoe · 2 months ago

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𝒮𝒽𝒶𝒸𝓀𝓁ℯ𝒹

♡ yandere football player x fem reader ♡ Every girl wanted to be with him and every guy wanted to be him, and to everyone around the world he was considered the embodiment of perfection. But there's more to what meets the eye, and you're one of the only people who know that very well. ♡ word count: 1.9k words ♡ warnings: yandere/obsessive behaviour, dependency, toxic relationship, kidnapping, attempted drugging, very brief and implied self-harm, nsfw (non-con)

His team had won yet again.

Critics weren't just analysing the performance itself but one particular figure that always made his presence known; whether it was deliberate or natural.

Looks, money, charisma, talent; what characteristic didn't the renowned football star possess?

Blake's motivator was his love for things that kept him on his toes and sent a rush of excitement through his veins.

The constant chanting of his name from the crowds was like music to his ears. He waved and shot them a pretty smile adorned with dimples that would surely make magazine covers.

Cameras zoomed in on each of the team players as they walked out of the field. Pushing the hair out of his eyes, he stared into the camera.

The world out there didn't know that it was reserved for one particular person, and they knew who they were.

A message.

I know you're watching.

♡

"And how do you feel about today's performance?" The lady smiled almost too brightly, holding the microphone up towards him.

"I think we gave it our all today and I couldn't have done without my team," he enthusiastically recited as if he hadn't been practising with his manager for the perfect PR response to the questions. Blake was a natural in front of the camera — he threw in some jokes and made sure to flash those pearly whites every now and then.

The interviewer chuckled, "Oh please, don't be so modest. You were amazing out there, Blake. Give yourself some credit, will ya?"

A few more minutes passed with them going back and forth before he was finally asked million dollar question:

"so, we're all dying to know, any relationship updates we should be aware of?"

For a split second, his flawless facade cracked and his smile faltered, his jaw ticking with something unpleasant. Then, almost as if nothing happened, his expression turned carefully neutral and he maintained a polite smile, "my personal life is just that, personal."

Translation: i'm not answering that. In any other situation, he'd have no problem saying it directly, but he'd rather not listen to his agent talking his ear off about it later.

But the woman obviously did not pick up on the implication and if she did, she didn't mention it. Instead, she leaned in and brushed her hand against his bicep at an attempt of subtle flirting, "Oh, come on. You're one of the most eligible bachelors in the country. Surely there's someone special in your life?"

He feigned embarrassment rather than expressing his anger and scratched the back of his head, "you're really putting me on the spot here." He paused, then added, "i'm just focused on my career at the moment. And as they say, good things come to those who wait, right?"

His answer shut the interviewer down and the last line did have some truth to it. Patience is a virtue.

♡

Pushing the bathroom door open, his hands gripped one of the sinks and he took a moment to calm his nerves.

They don't know. They don't know. It's okay.

His gaze dropped to the scar marring his otherwise perfect skin in the mirror, right under his bottom lip. Yet, instead of frustration like his manager had expressed with utter disappointment, warmth he was all too familiar with fluttered in his chest.

This was no burden, but a gift from his favourite little songbird after one of her many tantrums of be let out of the golden cage. Though it is a hassle to calm her back down, he did cherish the mark imprinted on his skin.

Blake tutted, eyes narrowing as he scrutinised it further. It was fading; he'll need to fix that up soon enough.

He shrugged on a jacket and drove home in his sleek car, ready to finally relax. The day drained him of all his energy.

Or perhaps it didn't, because when he reached his home, all of the anger bubbled up to the surface. Patience was not a virtue, because his had reached its limit because of a certain dove.

♡

Tonight was the night.

The night where you would finally be free of the shackles that bound you to that horrible, horrible man.

Blake.

To his fans and the world, he's a passionate and talented athlete. To you? He's a monster. One that stripped you off everything you've known, one that kept you for his selfish desires, one that held a warped version of 'love' in his heart.

You wanted to flee. Not even tell the police, just run far, far away where he couldn't reach you, where you would be your own person and not some pretty ornament he'd come home to admire every day.

Sanity hanging by a thread, you slipped down the marble stairs in just your socks and cute pajamas. Any captive should have injuries and tattered clothes. Except, your captor wasn't normal. And while you didn't have any physical injuries, you were still hurt.

You were supposed to be asleep, if everything went according to his plan (which usually did). The opportunity was too good to pass up; he was leaving for a match for hours. When he had given you the pill with a fond smile, you returned it and made an act of swallowing, all while keeping it under your tongue. The doors were locked due to his paranoia so you couldn't escape through there. Not to mention your hands and feet were tied, so you spent time on those too.

Finally, the makeshift rope was ready. Hours of twisting bedsheets together finally paid off and now you were ready.

One look out the window and you were already nauseous. It was such a high drop and you weren't willing to die, not yet at least. The rope tumbled down till it nearly reached the bottom, only a few feet off the garden grounds.

In and out. Nothing is going to happen.

Wrapping your limbs around the clothing, your hands clenched around it. Your eyes closed and you let yourself slide. Breathing fresh air felt true bliss, like this was your first time.

When you reached the bottom, your knees trembled with the gravity of what's going on. The closest thing you let out to a relieved sigh was a choked sound out of your throat.

You were free. You. Were. Free.

No more punishments, no more suffering, no more of his constricting love, no more-

maniacal laughter rings through the air sharply, making you halt. No.

You'd recognise it anywhere, even if you didn't want to.

"Wow, I leave for a few hours and come back to this?" He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye in amusement, though you caught a vein in his forehead throbbing. "You surprise me every time, baby. Though I gotta admit i'm a little...hurt."

Your heart stopped and you took a step back, whipping around to face him. Such beauty he had, but so undeserving of it. Your nails had dug blood out of your palms, making them dully ache however not as deep as his confessions of 'love' would pierce your heart.

He didn't have nothing in that chest but rotting flesh.

"Now, now, none of that." He grinned as he followed your steps with his longer, stronger legs and you could only pray that he showed mercy. "You really didn't think you'd get away, did you? You truly do underestimate the lengths I'd go for you.

I give you the most beautiful home, the finest foods — my love. And this is how you repay? By running away from me? From us?"

His voice progressively got louder with each word. You really pushed him to the limits.

"I-I'm sorry-"

Cutting you off, large hands shaky with barely concealed raged cluched either sides of your head, "shh, I know you are. But sorry isn't enough anymore."

It wasn't a normal, torturous kind of punishment — no, you wished it was. You wondered if falling from the window was a better fate than this.

His voice softened at your sniffles, almost as if he was comforting you, shielding from a danger that nothing seemed to poise but him. "Hey, hey, don't cry. C'mon, my dove. If you're good, I won't go too hard on you."

Cries spilled past your lips, begging him that you were sorry and that you weren't going to do it again.

And really, you were never going to. Not after what he did to you afterwards.

You were reduced to a small ball to shivers and hiccups underneath Blake on the soft, fluid-stained sheets. The pink sleepwear was discarded on the floor. Equally bare, his muscles from all the training were on display. He was now beaming affectionately as he watched your tuckered out expression.

This wasn't the first time you've been violated, obviously. But this time it felt worse, like the pain of reality came crashing down on you like a tsunami ten times harder than before. It didn't help that he kept on whispering sweet threats in your ear.

He had branded your skin roughly and taken you, only to cradle you gently with a lover's touch. The drug he had injected you with made you a willing participant in his game, made you ache with desire for the one being you wanted to hate.

You slurred like a broken record, unsure of what was even going on anymore, "m'sorry, I didn't mean to...hic"

"It's okay, it's okay" he sang softly, brushing your sweaty hair out of your eyes, "y'know punishing you hurts me more than it does you, but I had to do this, you were trying to leave me, sweet thing."

A small, hidden part of you still wanted to fight for your freedom, to save yourself.

"you're so silly, thinking anyone would believe you if you ran away." He cooed, peppering loving kisses all over your face.

You closed your eyes and weakly whimpered. They would believe you, they would. Wouldn't they?

"Sometimes, the thoughts become too much for that pretty little head, don't they? You can't possible take all of it at once. But that's why i'm here. To protect you from every bad thing in the world."

His hand cupped your cheek as he tilted his head down, pressing his lips against your forehead, "I'll give you the world. Just — promise not to leave me again"

The sentences tumbling out his mouth just made you feel even more horrible.

You were broken. You had tried to convince yourself otherwise, but it was all in vain. He had shattered you into pieces and rebuilt you to fit his preferences. If you looked into the mirror right now, you don't think you would recognise yourself.

Maybe he was right. Maybe you weren't cut out for the world, maybe there were dangerous things out to get you, maybe safety was in his arms.

"Rest, i'll take care of you"

You let your eyes droop shut. Yeah, that sounded about right. He'll take care of you.

Once you finally nestled against the comfort of his chest with tiny snores, was he finally able to celebrate another accomplishment. He can't remember the last time he didn't have something he wanted, even if his beautiful dove was putting up a fight against him.

♡

Yours truly,

@urprettylildoe

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captainreecejames · 1 year ago

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Pick Me Up?

Charles Leclerc imagine

summary : the four times Charles picks you up and the one time you pick him up.

pairing : Charles leclerc x fem!reader

I believe there is no mention of YN, but I'm not 100% sure.

word count : 3.5 k

warnings : none that I can think of

note : I only read over this once so if there's spelling errors or other mistakes that's what happened. Next up should either be Logan Sargeant my ex is a footballer or the social media accompanying fic. Anyways, enjoy and me if you like it!!

1. Charles picks you up from a bad date

The date had started fine.

Actually more than fine. He showed up on time, was pleasant to the waitress, and had good manners. Really, he would have even gotten a second date, if he hadn’t brought up Formula 1.

It’s a topic you tend to avoid when meeting new people, as they either tend to know a lot already and want to use you to get to Charles or they don’t know anything and assume that you are using Charles, when they know nothing about your relationship. It was a hassle you learned to shut down before it even began.

But back at the date with Vince, he had brought it up and that’s when things started to go down hill.

Despite your best efforts, when people brought up Formula 1, you grew taller and more focused on the conversation, it’s like a switch flipped. While Charles driving for the best known team certainly helped your interest, everything about the sport was fascinating for you and you couldn’t help but geek out when the topic came up.

Vince noticed your reaction and his casual demeanor turned critical. “You only know about it because you think the drivers are hot.” That had made your smile drop instantly, brows furrowing as you tried to respond. “Probably can’t even name all the teams.” He thinks that stumps you, but you’ve dealt with enough shitty men in this sport, you’re not taking anything more from this wanna-be investor.

“I don’t have to prove my knowledge of F1 to you,” you state, deciding that this dinner is now over.

“Oh, now I know you can’t even name five drivers.” Your frown deepens, picking up your napkin and placing it on the table next to your plate. It had gone down hill so fast, how disappointing.

“Your attempt at insulting me into submission is falling flat.” His eyes are wide at your comment, and he must not have expected you realize his move. You flag the waitress over and she walks quickly back to your table, noticing how you’re not smiling anymore. Seems like this date is a bust, so another twenty note must be added to the jar of bets amongst the staff of this restaurant.

(You and Charles visit the place often as it was the sight of your first job, but also the food and people were lovely, and bringing a first date here was the safest option.)

(So they all knew you and were betting on when the dam breaks and you two admit your feelings for each other.)

You hand Lucille enough money to cover both yours and Vince’s meals, not bothering with the change. Your goal now is to get as far away from Vince as soon as possible. He opens his mouth to say something again, but you are already out of your seat and walking towards the front door, phone calling Charles to pick you up.

He answers on the first ring, always on alert when you go on dates.

(Not because he’s jealous or anything, but because he’s worried about you and needs to make sure that you stay safe. He’s been tempted to bribe the staff of your little restaurant for information during dates after a particularly bad one, but his mom talked him out of it.)

“Ma cherie, is everything alright?” You roll your eyes at his question, just knowing that there’s a smirk on his face right now. He didn’t have a great feeling about Vince, but he wouldn’t say I told you so.

“Can you pick me up please?” You barely need to finish your question before he answers with an ‘of course, I’m already on my way.’

“Need me to stay on the phone?” You glance back at the restaurant, looking in the window to find Vince scrolling away on his phone, oblivious to the movement around him.

“No, focus on the streets. I’ll be fine.” Charles hums his answer and hangs up, leaving you to look busy on the streets of Monte Carlo.

He pulls up not even two minutes later, stopping the car haphazardly in a tow-away zone. You rush to the side, opening the door and shimmying in as fast as you can because even though this is Charles Leclerc’s very recognizable Pista, you don’t want to risk any tickets. While he pulls away you realize how fast he showed up and a question forms on your lips, but he speaks before you have the chance to ask.

“I was only down the road at the marina.” He seems sheepish, like the answer is rehearsed, but you don’t push it because you’re still grateful that he showed up. What would you do without him to pick up after a bad date?

2. Charles picks you cause your car breaks down

This time when you call him should feel less embarrassing than other times, but really it only feels worse. How are you going to admit to him that the car you’ve been saving up for and desperately wanting since you were 7 just crapped out on you before you could even get out of the parking garage? Especially when he advised you against such car. It would be humiliating.

Alas, you made the call, practicing in your mind what you would say to him.

Again, he picks up on the first ring, though this time you’re not sure as to why he answered so fast.

“Is everything alright, ma cherie?” You blush, grateful he can’t see your face.

“I’m stuck,” you exhale, ready to face what ever he has in store for you.

“Stuck?”

“My car won’t start and I’m still at work, everyone else has left and I’m in need of a ride.”

“Okay,” he answers, relief filling you. “I’m leaving the gym with Andrea, I should be there in 15 minutes. Don’t talk to any strangers.”

“Love you too, Charles.” You roll your eyes, hanging up on him and sitting in the drivers seat of your beloved, but broken, car. That’s some good money about to go down the drain for the tow and mechanic fees. As you debate calling your dad to help you out with diagnosing what’s wrong with the car, a familiar rumble enters the garage, and you see the ever famous Pista pulling up next to you, a smirking Charles in the driver’s seat.

“Someone call for a pick up?” You want to roll your eyes at him, but the smile on his face makes the irritation melt away. After a long day at work, made even longer because your stupid car that you really wanted wouldn’t start, all you feel is relief and affection for the man in front of you, and it’s a little too overwhelming.

Tears pool in your eyes and Charles frowns, cutting the engine and climbing out so he can hug you. He only admits it to his mother, but holding you is just as good a driving when he’s driving on the track with a car that responds to his every command.

(And what he won’t admit to anyone is that if holding you feels like that, then kissing you must feel like he’s just won a world championship.)

“Ma cherie,” he whispers, pulling your body into his own and stroking your hair to soothe you. He doesn’t ask any questions, which you’re grateful for, you don’t actually know what’s wrong other than everything is just too much and him showing up makes you feel safe enough to let it all out.

When you’ve finally slowed your breathing and made yourself relax he pulls away, looking at you with so much love in his eyes that you’re not sure if you’re dreaming. “Now you know what it felt like to drive under Binnotto.”

The comment is a shock and it makes you snort, which is what Charles was going for. Your laugh that he thinks could make him smile even in the darkest moods. “You can’t say that Mr. Ferrari.” You smack his chest while shaking your head, but the rueful smile on your face tells him that you still haven’t gotten over the team principle screwing him over.

Then the smile eases into something much more natural, and he knows the tense moment has passed. “Takeout?” he suggests, ushering you to the passenger side of his car. You nod at him and he’s pretty sure that he would do anything to make you smile.

3. Charles picks you up for a spontaneous lunch date

The next day it’s he who calls you, but you still an answer on the first ring.

(You’ve dedicated a Måneskin song as his ringtone so you always know when he’s calling)

(He made your ringtone a Mika song after you dragged him to a concert)

“Charles,” you answer, confusion in your tone.

“Ma cherie!” he sounds excited and you can’t help but want to follow him anywhere he goes when he sounds like that.

“Is everything alright?” You ask it this time, because shouldn’t he be packing for a race now?

“I’m outside, we’re going to spend the day on the water.” After leaving your home last night, Charles decided that you needed a pick me up, and what better way but to spend a few hours lounging around on his yacht, soaking up the sun and enjoying each other’s company.

(No one else would be there, but this wasn’t a date.)

(Seriously Arthur, it wasn’t a date.)

You spare a glance around your room, laundry begging to be done and dishes waiting to be washed. Yeah, you could use a day away from chores.

“Let me grab a bag,” you tell him, already throwing more clothes around the room in search of your favorite bathing suit. He hums through the speaker and you put your phone down to keep searching for the bathing suit. It was your favorite red crossover one piece and you be damned if you didn’t wear it today, anything to manifest a Ferrari win.

When you finally manage to find it, in the pile of clean but not put away laundry, you pick your phone back up and tell Charles you’ll be right down.

In two minutes you’re out the door of apartment, eyes landing on Charles leaning against his car. He looks so handsome with the windswept hair and Ray-bans on, you really have to wonder why he’s spending the afternoon with you and not some model he met in a garage.

(He’d say it’s because it’s the weekend before a race and this is a tradition, spending the afternoon with you before he leaves is the only way to ward off bad luck.)

(Seriously, before the Netherlands race last year you'd been unable to make it because of a bad cold and he had to retire the car that race, so safe to say you were forced to the boat, or his apartment, or he came over before the plane every time after that.)

Maybe the question is what would he do without you?

4. Charles picks you up from a girl’s night

This time Charles doesn’t pick up on the first ring, in fact, he barely makes it to the phone in time to answer. That’s because it’s not you who is calling, but rather a friend.

You and few girl friends had decided on a girls night out for one of them going through a bad break up, but after a few pregame shots and then drinks at this club, you were pretty intoxicated.

Looking for your group after coming back from the bathroom and the bar, you had spotted Lando and Max across the room, which made you think about Charles.

(Not that he ever really left your mind.)

And when you think about Charles, you wonder where he is, so you went to your friends. Both their faces lit up when they saw you, indicating that they were also not sober. After a quick hug for both of them you turn to survey the rest of the bar, looking for your Monagasque.

“He’s not here!” shouts Max, trying to be heard over the noise. Your shoulders drop, turning back to the two racers with a pout on your lips.

“Where is he?” you ask, trying to seem nonchalant, but drunk you can’t hide her feelings as easily as sober you.

(Many would argue that sober you can’t hide her feelings easily either, but all that matters is that Charles doesn’t find out. And since he’s too occupied in hiding his also obvious feelings, you’re both oblivious to the other’s pining.)

Lando says that Charles stayed at home, something about playing the piano and having an early night was more tempting than drinks. The real reason being that if Charles went out he would not have been able to stop thinking about you and your potential suitors, which would lead to him drinking to forget. He was not up for another heartbreak hangover.

Your eyes light up at the mention of Charles playing the piano, sitting down in the booth with them. “Oh! I bet it’s going to sound wonderful!” Both drivers roll their eyes, and to their disappointment, you’re not drunk enough to miss it. “You don’t like his music?” The accusation in your tone makes them readjust their face. It’s not that they don’t like his compositions, it’s just that when Charles explains them, it’s almost always about how you looked on a certain day and he just was so inspired he had to put something down. They’re really tired of the back and forth between you too.

You begin your speech on how talented Charles is at the piano, which then morphs into how talented he is as a driver, and then as a person. It all turns into a ramble about how proud you are of him, something they’ve all heard before.

When you’ve somehow made it to Leo and how Charles chose the perfect puppy, the man himself shows up.

“Ma cherie,” he interjects, placing a hand on your shoulder to get your attention. You turn towards him, and Max swears that there should be cartoon hearts in your eyes.

“Charles!” you yell, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. “What are you doing here?” You’re slightly too loud for being in his arms, but he doesn’t care if you yell his ear off, it’s still you.

“Max said you were ready to come home.” Your brows furrow at that, because you don’t remember ever saying that, or even Max disappearing to call Charles, but you can’t be mad at him showing up.

“One more drink?” you ask, eyes pleading with him. Charles shakes his head, he can feel how much he’s supporting your weight even while sitting and knows that any more alcohol will likely end with you tripping over yourself.

“Water,” he answers and you’ve agreed to the words coming out of his mouth because it’s Charles, and he’ll never steer you wrong.

Charles heads to the bar to grab a water, running into your group of friends there. He tells them your status and that’ll he’ll be taking you home after this drink. They all nod along, most of them predicting that the night would end like this: Charles showing up and driving you home.

When it’s finally time to leave and Charles has ushered you out of the packed club into his Pista, you remember that you came here with a completely different group. “The girls!”

“Don’t worry, ma cherie, I saw them before we left and told them I’d take you home.” The gentle smile on his face is enough to put one on yours. Where would you be without him, indeed.

+ 1. You pick Charles up from the airport

You’ve got a new car now, thanks to Charles, and since he needs to be picked up from the airport, you’ve decided to take it for a nice spin. The roads are relatively clear for the drive, and you’re there in the usual 30 minutes. That makes you early for Charles, but you take the time to work out what you’re going to say to him.

Before you get out of the car you text him your location, so that he can head right out and find you, rather than you going into the terminal to look for him. He always was better at finding you.

The last night out had not only ended with Charles taking you home, but with a revelation. You couldn’t keep living like this. Loving him so much and not telling him was suffocating. It made you feel like you were on the edge of a cliff with nothing to keep you safe, and you were tired of it. So the question was, how did you tell him.

“Charles, I’ve been in love with you for ages,” you said, but shook your head. That didn’t sound right.

“Charles, I have to tell you something really important. I think I’m in love with you.” No, you shook your head again and groaned. “I don’t think I’m in love with him, I know I am.”

“Charles, you’re the most important person in my life, I don’t know what I’d do with out you.” Okay, solid start, you might have something with that.

“Charles light of my life.” No. “That’s too cheesy.”

“God, I wish I could put into words how much you mean to me. I love you so much I don’t know what to do with myself most of the time. It’s like I need to feel you to be able to breathe properly. All I really ever need is for you to look and smile at me and I’ll know that everything will be alright. I can get through anything with you there. If you love someone else it would break my heart, but knowing that you’re happy is all I need to be okay. I’d live with the thought of you loving someone else, because if they made you as happy and good as I feel, then there’s nothing more I could ask for.” Yeah, that sounded-

“Well it’s a good thing I love you too.”

You screamed, turning around to see Charles behind you in all his glory. Black sweatshirt and baggy jeans, hair messy like he ran his hand through it multiple times.

“How long have you been there?” you asked, face turning red enough to rival Ferrari.

“At Charles, light of my life.” He shrugged, like you hadn’t just bared your soul out to him. “Though, I disagree, it’s not too cheesy.” Could you get any redder? Feels like this is as red as a human being could get before self-combusting.

He’s just standing there, with a dopey smile on his face that you want to kiss, but you can’t. Something is holding you to the spot. You force yourself to say something. “Can you say something else?”

“Like what?”

“Anything else, I feel like I’m going to explode if you don’t say something.”

“Thanks for coming to pick me up.” He adds a shrug to the end and you narrow your eyes.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“Oh, you want me to say that I love you too.”

“I don’t want you to say it if you don’t mean it.” If you were a kid you’d add a stomp to the end, as if you were throwing a temper tantrum. He furrows his brow like he’s confused and still you want to kiss him senseless.

“Well, I mean it.”

Now you’re the one confused. “What?”

“I love you too, and I don’t think I’d be okay if you loved someone else as much as I love you. Because I’m selfish and a terrible man and I want you all to myself.” He shakes his head. “I need you all to myself,” he corrects. “You’re the love of my life and if I wasn’t yours then I don’t think I could go on. But you said you do love me, so everything is so much easier now.” Each sentence is punctuated with a step closer, until he’s just a few inches from you, like he needs you to take the last step. You do, without hesitation, because you really would do anything for him.

Eyes glancing at his lips and back, you catch him doing the same thing. “I love you more than anything in this world. I’d give up racing if you asked, I do anything for you.”

Another glance at his lips. “I’d never ask that of you, Charles. But, I love you too, and I’d do anything for you.” His smile at those words would normally catch you off guard, like you’d stop breathing at it, but somehow it just makes everything easier right now. So you kiss him.

Leaning forward those last few inches to grab his shoulders and pull him down so you can kiss him with as much love as you can muster. If words can’t explain how much you love him then maybe kissing him will convey it. That you love him more than words, actions and thoughts can combine. You love him.

(And he loves you.)

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #Charles leclerc x fem!reader #Charles leclerc smau #formula 1 #formula 1 smau #formula 1 imagine #read #danielle writes

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hufflepuffsthunderdome · 3 months ago

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Bikini Bottom

Schlatt x Fem!reader Summary: Reader is anxious about the scars on her legs, and struggles with wearing a bikini to the pool. Schlatt just wants to reassure them and remind them how beautiful he thinks they are. Content: she/her pronouns, fluff, angst w/ comfort, panic attacks, self criticism, body image issues, scars, allusions to self-harm or injuries (nothing specific), kissing A/N: This was based on this request from the lovely @imgayandvoreethatsall it was such a cute request I got a little bit carried away writing it so it is loooonggg.

You feel your lip wabble as you eye yourself in the mirror, tilting your head to the side as you take in your reflection staring back at you. Mocking you. It was a scorching week in LA and everyone was making use of the pool that came with the Airbnb you were staying at, as they had been everyday the temperature had hit anywhere near 80 degrees.

It was a gorgeous pool, with a huge patio, deck chairs, glass fencing overlooking the LA hills, one of those stupid waterfall things that all the rich people had. You'd been spending most of your week feeling shit, despite the gorgeous background, lounging on a deck chair in your t-shirt and shorts, trying to keep your eyes glued to the pages of the book you were reading. Every now and again though, you'd look up and just eye your friends having fun in the pool. The chuckle boys were here, filming some stuff, Tucker, his wife, Ted, his girlfriend, Schlatt and a number of other mutual friends they had invited to hang out, including you.

You couldn't help the jealousy in your eyes as you looked at all your friends as they seemed to glide around the pool without a care in the world. It wasn't their fault, you loved them dearly, but it's true when they say there's a certain type of person in LA. Tall, slim, tanned, stunning. You'd watch your girlfriends as they'd sit next to the pool, their long, slim, smooth legs danging in the water, their bleach blonde hair tossed back as they laughed, sun shining off their pearly white teeth. God it made you feel ill.

You had gotten out of it all originally, when the pool talk came up, "oh I don't have a swim suite," you had told Ted, cringing at the disappointment on the faces of your friends as you shrugged softly, "I'll come sit out there though."

But as the temperature kept ticking up, your friends kept asking, and by god did you wanna use the pool. So you bit the bullet, fucking chewed and swallowed that thing more like, and went out and bought a bikini.

It was cute, you had to admit to yourself as you look at yourself in the mirror, and if it was anything else you'd be fawning over yourself in it. It was some ruffly thing that hugged your chest great, high waisted bottoms cupping your ass and stopping just below your belly button. As cute as it was it did nothing to cover your legs.

You feel the tears well up in your eyes as you look down at them, sucking your lip between your teeth to stop the flood gate from opening. Long scars litter the sides of your upper leg, some red, some pink, some white, staring up at you mockingly. It 's embarrassing, walking around with these stupid lines on your legs. While everyone else is model esque perfect, you're covered in the permanent reminder of your past. Of pain and suffering that taunt you, knowing you've missed that chance at perfection.

A soft knock at the door startles you away from the mirror as it creaks open the tiniest bit at your silence. "Y/N?" you hear Schlatt say, his accent thick on his tongue as his tone is soft and gentle, "you ok?"

You hum, as you quickly scramble for your shorts, pulling on the board shorts over your legs as you open the door, plastering on a smile as you look up at Schlatt, "hey, I'm good yeah."

He laughs as he moves out of the way, letting you step out of the room, "I thought you got lost in the bed sheets."

You laugh softly as you walk with him out to the pool, tugging on your shorts when you feel them ride up the tiniest bit, "I was just hyping myself up." you admit softly as you feel your face warm up at your confession.

"For what?"

“You know,” you say as you motion down to your bikini, stomach tensing when you feel his eyes trail down your body. Schlatt next to you swallows thickly as he looks over your body, admiring the way the bikini top hugs your chest, the way the shorts hang off your hips so enticingly.

“You coming swimming?” he asks, as he snaps his eyes back up to your face, furrowing his brow at the anxiety on your face. Your small nod is all he needs before a grin is breaking out on his face and he's hoisting you up into his arms the second your feet hit the outdoor patio. You squeal in delight as you thrash around in his arms, his gaze loving as he beams up at you as you squirm. “Look who I dragged out,” he calls out excitedly as your friends cheer, ignoring your shrieks of protest as he strides over to the pool, howling with laughter as he unceremoniously drops you into the water.

Everyone's calmed down a bit as the afternoon wears on, lounging in or around the pool as they chat happily. You're standing over with Schlatt and your friend Amy as you all chat, your body pressed up next to Schlatt as you lean against the wall.

"I wanna get a photo," Sophie, a girl you don't know super well says excitedly as she stands up from her towel. Some people excitedly shuffles over to the fence of the property, overlooking the hills, Amy grinning down at you when she pulls herself out of the pool, "you coming?"

You hesitate as you look at her outstretched hand, going to reach out for her to help you out before Sophie's valley girl voice cuts you off, "maybe the next one Y/N? Like we love a 2000s chic board short look but... this one's for the 'gram," she says as she stares at her phone, not even looking up at you, "you know how it is."

A tense silence falls over the pool as your friends stare at Sophie in shock, a few people you don't know super well humming in agreement, as you let Amy pull you out of the pool none the less. You look at Amy to see the shock already on her face, turning to meet Schlatt's eyes and see the anger burning behind his iris.

"Fine," you mumble as you push the shorts down your legs, taking a deep breath as you push yourself forward and walk over to where the girls are lining up, "am i 'gram ready now?" you say, sickly sweet as Amy laughs next to you and wraps an arm around your shoulder.

Schlatt stares in awe at your confidence, as much as he can tell you're putting it on. He loves seeing you like this, unwilling to take anyone's shit, it's hot in a way he's not brave enough to admit out loud. He lets out a low whistle as he moves over to the other wall, closer to where you're all waiting to take the photo, "yeah Y/N," he says as he claps, smiling to himself as he watches you blush and turn your head into Amy's neck to whisper something to her. He wolf whistles at you while you take the photo, not so subtly hyping you up as he admires you, watching as you laugh at his antics and cling to Amy as Tucker snaps pictures of all of you.

"That was incredible," he says, a proud grin plastered on his face when you get back in the pool, "you've got the biggest balls of anyone here, shutting her up like that.”

That makes you throw your head back and laugh as you sink back into the pool next to him, placing a hand on his bicep to help you in, "thanks for hyping me up."

"You don't have to thank me," he says sweetly as he takes a gently hold of your waist and helps you in, "that's what I'm here for."

Sophie didn't even end up posting the photos, you think she got her ego hurt a bit by everyone teasing her about her 'gram for the rest of the afternoon. But Amy did, and you couldn't stop tearing over them.

They were cute photos, some of the group, some of just the two of you she had taken, but god you couldn’t stop looking at your legs. You should've put your shorts back on, Amy wouldn't have mind. you should’ve asked her even to edit them, she would’ve said yes, but you couldn’t face the embarrassment. Instead, you just sat here, feet danging in the water as you zoomed in on yourself, not even daring to open the comments.

"Hey," you hear Schlatt's voice say as he approaches you from the house, hand coming over your shoulder to hand you a bottle of something that you take eagerly. He smiles down at you as he sits down, rather ungracefully next to you, legs joining yours in the water with a splash, "you alright?"

That's something you always admired about Schlatt, his ability to turn it off and just be with you when you needed it. He was undeniably loud and in your face when he wanted to be, but he had this ability of reading the room like no one you've ever met before, knowing when you needed someone to just sit and talk. You look up at him and nod as you sip your drink, turning to look back at your phone next to you.

"What's wrong?"

You let out an annoyed groan as you lay back on the tiles behind you, unlocking and handing him your phone. There's no point hiding it from him, he has a way of reading you, you might as well just show him.

He scrolls across the pictures Amy posted, smiling to himself when he sees the one of you with her, tilting your head back and laughing, "what's wrong with these? They're cute."

"Cute?!" you say as you look up at him wide eyed, "omg cute?! Look at my legs," you groan, "ugh it makes me wanna puke."

"Your legs?" he asks as he glances at you, face scrunched up in confusion before he looks back at the phone, "what's wrong with your - oh," he says as his eyebrows raise when he notices what you're talking about.

"Oh god it's so bad isn't it?"

"What? No, no I didn't mean it like that," he says as he zooms in on your legs, taking in the sight of the scars littering them that he's never really taken note of before. He's seen them sure, but he's always been too focused on the soft curves of your thighs to ever really notice.

You're both silent for a while before he speaks, "is this why you haven't been swimming with us?" You just nod as you take the phone back from his hands, zooming in on yourself again as you sigh.

He glances down at you next to him as he takes in your sad expression, feeling his heart ache as he watches your slumped figure stare intently at your phone, "you have an even bigger dick than I thought then for earlier."

You laugh softly as you roll your eyes, looking up at him as you nudge him, sitting up again. "But seriously," he continues, "I'm proud of you," he says as he looks down at you, taking in the way your face is lit up in the dim blue light of the pool.

"Really?" you whisper back, leaning into his side the tiniest bit as you seek out his warmth.

"It's not easy, putting yourself on display," he says as his eyes flick down to your legs for the tiniest second before meeting your face again, hand twitching at his side as he fights the urge to reach out and touch you, "especially when you're worried about something like that."

You nod silently as you fully lean into his side now, resting your head against his arm as the two of you enjoy each other's presence. It feels nice, to feel seen like this, to have someone who notices you, faults and all, and is here anyway.

"When I started gaining weight, it took me ages before I was willing to swim without a shirt on again," he admits as he snakes an arm around to rest on the tile next to your hip.

"Really?!" you ask as you look up at him, turning slightly to rest your chin on his arm as you watch him stare down at the water.

"Oh yeah, like so long," he nods as he moves his legs in the water, watching the way it ripples around his movement, "I was just convinced that everyone would be staring at me the entire time," he shrugs, "and like, sometimes people do you know? I'm not gonna lie... but most people didn't even think twice about it. And if they did they didn't care."

"Do you think anyone noticed my legs today?" you ask as you pull away, looking up at him pensively as you think back on the day. It's hard to remember if the burning of people's gazes on your body was real or just your anxiety convincing you it was.

"Honestly?" he asks softly and you nod, "probably not. Like not in a bad way, just like, I don't think most of our friends really pay attention to that sort of shit."

There's a moment of silence before he's laughing as he looks down at you, "I know I for one was more focused on these puppies," he says as he dramatically and blatantly staring at your chest, "awooga," he says as he hangs his tongue out and dramatically pants.

"I hate you," you say as you fall apart laughing, pushing him away from you and watching him dramatically fall into the pool.

"Don't look so hot and we won't have a problem," he laughs when he comes up to the surface, laying on his back and flailing a bit as he attempts to float.

"You're so unbuoyant?" you question as you stare at him confused, howling in laughter as he flails around.

"Oh yeah like you can do any better," he says as he faux glares at you, fighting the smile creeping onto his lips at the sound of you laughing.

You bite your lip as you smile giddily, pressing your hands against the edge of the pool and slipping into the cool water as you feel it envelope you, "I'm a goddamn pool floatie, I'll have you know."

You lay back in the water, and let yourself float, the rhythmic pattern of the pool jets whirling through the water as it surrounds you, calming you. Your breathing sounds impossibly loud as you take long and deep breaths, but you open your eyes to find the night sky staring back at you. It's not often you see starts in LA, but the few twinkling in the night right now ground you. It's just you, Schlatt and the sky right now, the way you like it.

You flip back over and dunk under the water, pushing your hair back out of your face as you swim up and smile up at Schlatt, "told you so," you tease, but find him already staring at you.

He's looking at you, lips parted slightly as he leans against the wall of the pool, arms resting on the side as his eyebrows raise when you meet his gaze. It makes your heart stutter as you swim closer to him. His tongue swipes across his lower lip as you approach, hands coming to rest by his side as he looks down at you, sinking down into the water so he's closer to you.

"I'm glad you came in with me," he whispers as he smiles softly down at you, almost nervous to break the silence in the air, "I know it's not easy," he takes a deep breath as he gently brings a hand down to touch your waist, "you look amazing though."

You let out a dismissive scoff and shake your head, turning to look off into the distance as you feels Schlatt's eyes stay locked on yours, "thanks," you whisper softly, not really believing it yourself.

You feel his large hand, surprisingly delicate, take a hold of your chin gently and turn your head to look back at him. His eyes stare down at you, soft and loving as you feel the warmth rush to your face as you gaze up at him, "I mean it, you're so beautiful."

He leans in closer, just a tiny bit, but it's enough to make the water ripple around you. His hand moves from your chin to cup your cheek gently, other hand moving under the water to hover over your outer thigh. You feel the water move and you let out a shaky breath, as you bring your hand down to touch his, gently pressing it into your skin. His large hand lays delicately on your thigh for a second, before pressing into the skin ever so slightly as his thumb rubs along your cheek, "you're the most stunning person I've ever seen."

The way he says it, so soft, so earnest, filled with love and unspoken words, makes you let out a shaky breathe you didn't realise you were holding as you move in closer to him. Your eyes flutter shut as you lean into his hand, basking in the feeling of his warmth, his hands on your thigh, soft breath hitting your lips.

You're so caught up in the feeling of each other that you hadn't even noticed the door slide open, or the sound of wet footsteps running towards the pool until a tidal wave of water wallops you and Schlatt as Tucker and Ted laugh manically when they resurface.

"Ever the good timing fellas," Schlatt mumbles, apologetic eyes drifting to you when you swim away from him.

You had made your escape the night before, clambing out of the pool into the dark, where you could secure a towel around you and bask in your safety under it's cover and sinking into the group inside to chat happily with your friends.

Now however, as the sun rose over the horizon, you found yourself looking over your body the same as yesterday. The scars on your thighs stuck out to you like a sore thumb, but you felt better today, more confident. No one would notice and if they did, they wouldn't care, you told yourself. At least Schlatt wouldn't care, he had your back.

"Here she is," Amy squeals excitedly from where she's lounging in the pool when she sees you coming, flopping off the floatie with an excited giggle as she pushes her sunnies up her face.

"And looking fucking fine as hell I might add," Schlatt says with a grin on his face as he walks out of the house behind you, just loud enough for you to hear, bottles of beer in his hand. You roll your eyes and scrunch up your nose as you steal a beer from his hand, walking over to join your friends in the pool.

The day goes on, the sun beaming down on everyone, and you find for the first time in a long while, you're able to forget about your body. Forget about the way you look and the things you hate about it and just exist. It's not perfect, but it's a start.

Schlatt watches from the window in the kitchen of the airbnb as you play with some beach ball someone found, passing it around to people as you grin happily. He just stares, beers he came in to get getting warm on the counter as he just stands there and watches you enjoy yourself. You look angelic; sunkissed and carefree, something he hasn't seen from you in a long time.

"You'll burn a hole through her head if you keep staring," Ted laughs as he walks into the kitchen behind Schlatt, putting the beers he got out back in the fridge and grabbing cool ones instead.

“Can you blame me man,” he says, not even trying to deny that he was staring, he's played this coy denial game when Ted's asked about his feelings for you for too long to care anymore, "she looks great in that bikini."

“That's what's making you act so clingy?” Ted asks as he stands next to Schlatt, taking a sip of his beer as he hands one to Schlatt. Schlatt just nods, watching the way you move as you jump up in the water to grab the beach ball.

Ted lets out a whistle as he watches too, "I can't blame you dude," he says as he takes a gulp of his drink and dodging away from the friendly punch he knows is coming, "she is pretty hot."

More people had trickled into the Airbnb for the rest of the afternoon, as the sun slowly began to set. People you didn't really recognise, friend of a friend kinda people that were just so LA, as Schlatt had said after escaping a conversation with some surfer looking dude and retreating back to your group.

Ted and Amy had been bouncing around the new people who've rocked up, you're not sure if they're their friends or if they're both just social like that, but you, Schlatt and Tucker had retreated to your safe little corner of the pool, to just chat happily.

“Come on you lot,” Ted says as he comes around the pool to your corner, “stop being antisocial.” He whisks you all over to a large group that has formed around a tiny, shitty little fire pit, where chairs had been pulled over to form little groups.

“Some fire,” Tucker scoffs as Ted forces you all to sit down next to him, with a few other people who are chatting to each other.

“The whole city will burn down if you even think of anything bigger,” you laugh as you eye the tiny fire pit, the light from it casting you in a warm glow as you feel the water on you begin to dry in it's slight heat.

Seeming to notice your precence suddenly, the rest of your new little groups introduces themselves and begin to join you in on their conversation. They're talking about some movie they worked on recently that Ted is fascinated by, and you smile and nod along to as you listen to their stories.

They're a very sweet group, you get to know them for a while as they chat, but they're not the most tactful. They had said some weird things already, that you can tell weren't meant to be mean, but just weren't thought through before they slipped out. Something about Tucker being a bad guy for joining the military, and Schlatt's accent making him sound uneducated or some shit. Stupid stuff that the guys shrugged off.

Something you couldn't shrug off though, were the looks they kept giving you. The not so subtle glances you'd catch when they'd look at you, eyes blatantly drifting down to your legs everytime you'd talk. Unlike yesterday, you couldn’t convince yourself this was in your head. This was happening right in front of you, obviously and without shame.

They kept doing it, just openly staring at the scars up your thighs whenever you talked, as if you were nothing more than a spectical to gawk at. You weren't sure if they were even listening, or if they only pretended they were so they could get another look to judge you.

You knew what would happen, the second you all left they'd start whispering, what happened to her? How did she get those scars? Just sitting there like that, out in the open?

You couldn't breathe proeprly, your chest getting tighter everytime you felt their eyes burning into your skin. Each time they'd turn to look at you it felt hotter and closer, as if they were silently telling more poeple to look. To turn and stare at the freak, to point and laugh at your scars. God it was so embarrassing. You felt disgusting.

"I'll be back," you blurt suddenly, interupting Tucker as you stand up, knocking your chair over in the process as you fumble to pick it up, throat feeling tight when more people look over at the comotion. You push your way through the group and book it into the house, finding the first room you can, luckily a bathroom and locking the door behind you.

You tear a towel off the hanger and wrap it around your waist to save yourself having to look at your scars anymore, hands shaking as you attempt to secure it. You grip the counter as much as you can as you double over, heaving chest attempting to breathe as you stare down at the sink, gasping. Your head feels like it's spinning, eyes struggling to focus on anything as you look up at the ceiling, panting and weezing as you try to calm yourself down.

The door handle jiggles and you choke back a gasp as you try to stay silent, short shallow gasps escaping your lips as you try not to choke. It jiggles again and you manage to cough out, "occupied."

“It's me,” Schlatt's concerned voice comes from the other side, "can I come in?”

You let our a choked breath as you reach blindly for the door, unlocking it and stepping back against the wall as Schlatt pushes the door open and steps inside, shutting it behind him.

You stare up at the ceiling, throat tightening more as you feel his concerned eyes on you, heaving to bring in a breath as you refuse to look at him. It's a heartbreaking sight, to watch you like this, watch your face scrunch up in pain as you struggle to breath. He reaches out a hand gently, hovering it just over your shoulder, "can I touch you?"

You nod urgently as you finally lower your gaze to look at him, sputtering as you feel the spit pool in your mouth as you cough and choke, doubling over as you try to calm yourself down.

"You're ok," he says softly, watching you with concerned eyes as he slowly lowers you to the ground, which you happily oblige, going to pull your knees up to your chest to sooth yourself before he stops you, "sit up straight if you can."

You follow his soft instructions as your brain throbs, hazy from the lack of oxygen you're taking in. You preen at his soft praise, "that's perfect, now breathe with me ok."

His voice shakes with nerves as he watches you struggle, hands gripping your shoulders firmly as he keeps his face infront of your eyes, taking a deep breath in and nodding as you attempt to follow. "Perfect, that's perfect."

He sits with you for a while, breathing with you through the panic attack until you can breathe on your own. He feels his own breathing return to normal when you slump your head back against the wall, eyes shutting from exhaustion as your chest begins to rise and fall in a steady pattern.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" he asks, looking at you with furrowed brows as he keeps his arms firmly on your shoulders. He doesn't wanna push you to talk if you're not ready, but he desperately wants to know what happened to make you feel this way.

"They were staring," you say, voice barely above a whisper as your face scrunches up as the painful burn of their gazes return to your skin.

His face morphs to one of realisation as he glances down at the towel around your waist, heart aching at the pain across your face, "shit, Y/N," he whispers as he pulls you into a tight hug. His strong arms wrap firmly around you, bringing you closely into his chest as he buries his face in your hair, rubbing your back when he feels you exhale a shaky breath into his chest. He just wants to keep you here, in his arms, where he can make sure you know how perfect you are.

"I know it won't help with how shit it feels," he whispers into your hair, "but seriously fuck them," he presses a gentle kiss to your head as he asks, "was it that lot we were sitting with?"

You just nod as you burry you head further into his chest, trying to escape the world. His arms tighten again around you and you feel your heartbeat in your ears as he holds you firmly against him. You barley make out what he says over the static in your brain as you melt against him, something about their personalities being faker than their teeth.

"At least you're fucking real," he says as he pulls away slightly, keeping his arms tight around your waist, "real and strong... and fucking perfect."

His words warm you up from the inside as you gaze up at him, sucking your lip between your teeth as your stomach flutters. You are real, and so is he. Right now, the feeling of his arms firmly around your waist is more real and more important to you than anything else outside this bathroom.

He watches you, eyes drifting down to your teeth as they chew in your lip, his thumb coming up to gently tug it free. Running the pad of his thumb across the smooth, soft skin of your lip he can't help the way his lips part, the way his breathing gets heavier as he takes in the sight of you, "so perfect," he whispers again as he leans in.

His thumb moves from your lips and is replaced with the soft warmth of his lips against yours, gently ghosting over yours, giving you a chance to pull away.

You pull your arms free from where they're sandwiched between you two and wrap them around his neck, pulling him closer to you. You push your lips firmer against his, melting into the kiss as you push yourself against his.

Schlatt lets out a breath into your mouth he didn't realise he was holding, your lips moving against his as he poured all his love and devotion into the kiss. He wanted you to feel beautiful. To feel safe. To feel loved. He pulled you closer again, flush against his chest, sure you could feel his heart beat against yours as your lips moved in tandem. He felt the spark that everyone talks about, that spark that he always thought was some sappy shit, but right now feels so real.

You lift yourself onto your knees, kneeling with him so you're closer to his height, lips staying locked together. He was warm, and gentle, taking his time to move his lips against yours in a way that reminded you that he was here for you, nothing else. Just you, as you are. The towel shifts from your waist and drops down your legs a bit, leaving you in your bikini and him in his shorts, warm skin pressed against each other. His hand comes down to lay gently against your thigh, soft and gentle against the scars there, and you don't move, you don't flinch or shy away, instead, you lean into him more.

He pulls away panting softly, his hold firm and loving on you as he whispers against your lips, "you're so perfect."

For the first time in a long time you believe it.

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swiftlymurmurs · 11 months ago

Text

I've seen a lot of people voice disappointment over this Game Changer season finale and while I personally wasn't really bothered by a lot of the criticisms (I thought the Ratfish was an interesting added game mechanic and I never really care who wins or loses so his judgements not aligning with mine made no difference to me) I do think it's very interesting and I've spent some time thinking about why it doesn't work for so many. Some thoughts: Why is this Eric guy even here?

Tim & Eric were a popular tv comedy duo in the late aughts alt comedy scene. Sam and many of the writers at Dropout are sketch comedy nerds who, in 2007, were freshly at the start of their comedy careers, and probably see them and the larger [Adult Swim] environment they were a part of as a huge influence.

Why has it maybe aged poorly?

As far as I know, their popularity came in the early stages of about a decade of quite cynical, surreal comedy that also spawned the "lolrandom" era. While huge and fresh at the time, I think my generation (gen Z, the main viewerbase of Dropout) has grown pretty tired of this style and favours sketch comedy that's more clever, witty, and emotionally open or wholesome. At least, that's a movement Dropout has very much steered into with their roster of comedians and it's what the viewers expect.

The parasocial thing

It's no secret that Dropout actively promotes itself as a tight group of friendly comedians who you are invited to get to know, expect, and love when they show up. They don't abuse parasociality in the way you see, for example, younger audience oriented youtubers shoveling merch do it, but they absolutely make use of it. Most of the moments from this episode I've seen people gush over or post positively about are those where the cast recognize each other's styles, reference their relationships, and just generally make it known how well they know one another. When a total stranger enters the picture in an episode where the cast already have a barrier to their regular banter AND is given so much power over the game, they may look like an outsider or even an enemy to the happy little family people have gotten so attached to. Especially because his role is explicitly that of an antagonist, and the cast are never given a chance to see him and maybe out their love and respect for him as a comedian. In the minds of viewers, he just stays some guy who made mean jokes about their blorbo and then left.

Conclusion

I'm always glad to see this show making big swings, and while most of them have landed, some of them are bound to miss. It's a show that prides itself on trying things the viewers may not yet know they wanted and the second it stops trying, I think it'll be all the worse for it. It's a shame to end the season on such a note, but it's been hit after hit so far, and before we know it we'll be right back into it. I love this show, I love this cast, and I'm excited to see what's next!

#game changer #dropout #ratfish #eric wareheim #oof very long post #please remember that this is their job and your favourite comedians are not being attacked #it's just some jokes that didn't land very well #thank you and goodnight

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wolverigrl · 8 months ago

Text

Rumors

Hugh Jackman x reader (actress)

Warnings: smut! Only 18+!, swearing, angsty, fluffy

!Disclaimer! If you'd like to skip the smut, scroll down as soon as you see "---" in the text. From there, the smut part begins and ends at the next "---"!

Enjoy!

Previous Part

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It's been five months. Five months since our first date, and yet somehow, it feels like both forever and no time at all.

I sit here now, in the gym, watching him lift weights like it’s nothing, and I’m struck by just how lucky I feel. From the very beginning, it was like we found our rhythm without even trying - our relationship is built on mutual respect and trust. We give each other space when needed, and t's refreshing to be with someone who values independence as much as I do.

The dates we've had so far have been perfect in their own way. Our second one was at this hidden gem of a restaurant tucked away in the city. I remember how he laughed when I spilled wine on the tablecloth, and how his hand brushed mine as we reached for the same napkin. We've done simple things too, like grabbing coffee early in the morning or working out. Once, we spent an afternoon at an old bookstore, getting lost in the aisles of dusty novels and sharing passages that made us laugh. Every moment with him feels like a memory in the making

And yet, it all changed a little last month when we were spotted. We hadn't been careful enough. A quick kiss in a park, something so innocent, but the paparazzi caught us. The next day, our picture was splashed across every tabloid and social media. That unintentional confirmation of our relationship wasn't what we had planned. Neither of us wanted the world in on our private lives.

Still, we've dodged every question thrown at us in interviews or on social media. But avoiding the questions doesn't stop the criticism.

The age gap. It's what everyone seems to latch onto. Hugh's used to it - He’s been doing this long enough to know how to handle the press, the rumors, the gossip. But me? I’m still learning how to deal with it. I try to act like it doesn't bother me. I nod along, tell everyone I'm fine, but inside, it's harder than I thought it would be. Some of the comments sting more than I care to admit. I've been in relationships before, but none of them were "public" like this. My exes were all from my private circle - well, except for Chris, but that doesn't count. That was way before either of us was well-known. This, with Hugh, is different. It's out there.

I didn’t want that. I wanted to keep us private for a while longer, to hold onto this little piece of normalcy for just us. But now it’s out, and there’s no taking it back.

Now everything is under scrutiny. People question our relationship and my motives. Of course there are fans who are supportive - sweet comments, even some who come up to me on the street and say they love us together. But then there are the others. The ones who say I’m only with him to advance my career, that I’m using him to get ahead. Ever since our last movie together, I’ve been getting bigger roles, and some people think that’s because of him. Like I can’t earn anything on my own.

I try to brush it off, but there are moments when those words hit hard. And even though Hugh has told me a thousand times to ignore it. I’m not like him. I haven’t been in the spotlight for decades. I don’t have the thick skin he’s developed over the years.

Our managers weren’t thrilled either when they found out we’d been seeing each other behind their backs. It wasn’t anger, really, more disappointment that we hadn’t trusted them enough to let them in on it. But in a way, I’m glad we didn’t. We needed this to just to be ours for a while.

Still, despite all the noise, the criticism, the rumors—there’s comfort between us. We act like a real couple. We’ve never had the talk, though, about what we are exactly. Are we officially together? I don’t even know. We’ve just kind of fallen into this routine, and honestly, love it. I love the way he makes me feel like I’m the only person in the world when we’re together.

My eyes drift back to him as he lowers the weights, his muscles tensing with the effort. He's ridiculously strong, and I'd be lying if I said it wasn't a turn on. God, he’s attractive. And sweet. And patient. And funny. Sometimes I catch myself even fangirling. I mean, it's still Hugh fucking Jackman. How did I get so lucky?

“You good, y/n?" Hugh’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts, and I realize I’ve been staring.

“Yeah." I say, quickly covering up my awkwardness with a grin. “Just appreciating the view.”

His eyes narrow, that playful smile tugging at his lips. He walks over, sweat still glistening on his skin, and towers above me, crossing his arms. “You know, you could’ve just taken a picture.”

“Maybe I will next time,” I tease, leaning back on the bench.

He chuckles, the sound warm and rich. “Or you could just join me instead of sitting over there like a creep.”

“Please. I did twice as many reps as you did earlier,” I say, pretending to wipe imaginary sweat from my brow. “I deserve a break.”

“Is that right?” He raises an eyebrow, leaning down so we’re almost face-to-face. “Pretty sure I saw you struggling with those squats.”

“I wasn’t struggling." I protest, trying to keep a straight face, but his cocky grin is making it impossible.

“You say that now, but your form—”

“My form was perfect!” I laugh, pushing his arm lightly. “Stop acting like you weren’t impressed.”

“Oh, I was impressed." he admits, his voice dropping an octave. “Just not with your workout.”

The heat between us flares up in an instant, the way it always does when he looks at me like that. There’s this pull, this magnetic energy that I haven’t felt in a while. We flirt, we tease, we push each other’s buttons, and it’s exhilarating. But there’s always this line we haven’t fully crossed yet. We get close - so close - but we always pull back.

We go back and forth like this until we wrap up our workout. Hugh's leaving for Sydney tomorrow to visit his family for a few weeks, but his kids won't be able to join him because they're going on holiday with their mom, so it'll just be him this time

I'll admit, I already miss him so much. I don't really know what to do yet. So far, we've spent pretty much every day together, but now that the interviews are slowly getting fewer and everyday life is getting quieter, it's getting boring without someone to keep me on my toes. I guess Ryan and Blake will have to take over.

After the gym, we head back to his place, still bickering about who did better with which exercises. By the time we're on the couch, it's turned into playful shoving and teasing until his lips are on mine, and everything else fades away. God, I’ve missed this. I’ve missed the way his lips feel on mine, the way his touch sets my skin on fire.

But just as things are about to cross that line again, I pull away, leaving him breathless and staring at me in confusion.

"You’re impossible." he mutters, running a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his voice.

I smile sweetly, standing up and stretching. “I need a shower.”

"You’re an absolutely evil woman!" he calls after me as I walk toward the bathroom, but I don’t turn around. I can feel his eyes on me the whole way.

I can't help but smile to myself as I undress and step into the shower. The hot water cascades down my skin, but my mind is elsewhere - back on the couch, replaying the way his hands felt on me, the way his breath hitched when I kissed him. It's getting harder to hold back, to not give in to the growing desire between us. We've come close before - so many times - but for some reason, we always stop right pefore things get too far. It's like we're both waiting for the perfect moment. I'm not in a rush, but God, he makes it so hard to resist.

But it’s not just physical. It’s him. It’s the way he looks at me, the way he makes me feel seen. I’ve never been so comfortable with someone, and that scares me a little. I’m falling for him - hard - and I’m terrified of what that means. We’ve never even talked about what we are, and here I am, thinking about how much I want him, how much I love him.

The thought stops me in my tracks. Am I in love with him? My heart pounds in my chest, and I realize that, yes, I probably am. But I don’t know if he feels the same way. What if this is just something casual for him? What if I bring it up, and he doesn’t feel the same? He’s never pressured me, never pushed for more, and sometimes I wonder if he’s happy with how things are - just casual, just fun.

When I'm done, I slip into my pajamas - just a simple tank top and shorts - and head into the bedroom. Hugh's sitting on the edge of the bed, scroling through his phone, but he glances up when I walk in.

"Took you long enough." he says with a mischievous grin. "Were you thinking about me in there?"

I smirk, leaning against the doorway.

"Maybe?"

He laughs, setting his phone down and standing up. He walks over to me, placing one hand on my hip, the other cupping my face. His lips brush mine in a teasing kiss, his hand sliding down to give my ass a playful squeeze.

"Behave." I mutter, but my voice betrays me, sounding more breathless than I intended.

"Why? I thought you like it when I don’t." he says, that teasing grin never faltering.

Before I can respond, he pulls away and heads to the bathroom. "I'll be right back."

I sighed and lay down on the bed and looked thoughtfully at the ceiling.

Before I can lose myself in my thoughts again, I hear the water turn off, and a minute later, Hugh steps back into the room, still dripping wet and wrapped only in his towel, which hangs dangerously low. I can't take my eyes off him. He's searching through the dresser, muttering something about forgetting his boxers, but I don't hear the words. My heart pounds in my chest, and I know - I know - this is it. I can’t hold back anymore.

Without second guessing, I get up and cross the room, moving toward him without a word. He watches me, his brow furrowing in slight confusion, but there’s something else there too.

When I reach him, I stop, just inches away, and look up at him. I don’t say anything for a long moment. I just let myself feel the weight of this moment.

---

Finally, I find my voice, though it’s softer than I expected. “I want you.”

His eyes widen slightly, and for a moment, I think I’ve surprised him. But then, something shifts in his expression, and the air between us thickens. He steps closer, his hand coming up to cup my cheek as he studies my face.

“Are you sure?” His voice is low, husky, and I can see the restraint in his eyes. He’s giving me an out. One last chance to change my mind. But I don’t want out. Not anymore.

“Yes." I whisper, barely able to speak past the lump in my throat. “I’m sure.”

That’s all it takes. In an instant, his lips are on mine, and the kiss is different this time - deeper. Hungrier. His hands move to my waist, pulling me against him, and I wrap my arms around his neck, melting into his touch.

Before I know it, he’s lifting me off the ground, my legs wrapping instinctively around his waist. I can feel the heat radiating off him, the roughness of the towel against my skin. His grip tightens, and I’m suddenly aware of just how much I want him - how much I’ve always wanted him.

The kiss grew more intense, more desperate, and I can feel the last remnants of our restraint crumbling. He carries me over to the bed, his towel loosening around his hips, and gently lays me down. Our breaths are ragged, our bodies pressed together in a way that makes it impossible to think of anything else.

His kisses moved to my neck while one of his hands disappeared under my top. I gasped softly and ran my hands over his strong back. He began to gently squeeze my breast as I pressed his hips against mine with my legs, clearly feeling his arousal. Breathing heavily, he rubbed his groin against me and applied more pressure to my breast.

"Please." I said softly and looked at him greedily. "Please what, love?" he broke away from my lips and straightened up a little to get a better look at my face.

I couldn't help myself and looked down to his towel, which was now hanging down so low that you could see his perfect v-line clearly, as well as the vein under his belly button.

I swallowed and also straightened up to pull my top over my head.

"Fucking hell." he muttered quietly. I lay back down with my arms over my head and looked straight at him. "Just stop holding back and fuck me already."

He didn't need to be told twice and leaned over me again. The kiss was wilder than before and I felt like his hands were everywhere. I was in such a trance that I didn't even notice that he had already thrown my shorts on the floor. It was only when I felt his fingers on my clit that I realized it. I gasped out loud and dug my fingers in his hair and shoulders as he caressed my neck and circled his thumb over my clit. I was a complete wreck. Everything happened so quickly, but somehow it also didn't. I pressed my knees into Hugh's sides and pushed my pelvis towards him as he slid two fingers inside me. I moaned loudly and pushed my head back into the pillow. Suddenly I felt an electrifying sensation as he ran his tongue around my breast and sucked on it. He curled his fingers in and moved his hand faster. I moaned loudly again and pressed my nails firmly into his shoulder as a pleasurable feeling came over me in my abdomen.

Hugh's kisses moved back up to my lips until he released his heavy breath and slid his fingers out of me.

He looked at me full of lust and totally befuddled. I had never seen him like this before. But seeing him like this almost made me go crazy myself. He smiled gently at me and stroked a few strands of hair from my face. "You're so damn beautiful."

I felt my face flush and ran my hands down his torso to his dick, smiling. He breathed heavily and closed his eyes as I slowly began to stroke him.

I clenched around nothing and bit my lip as I looked at him.

He looked at me again, bent both my legs and pulled my hands away, to stroke his own member. He rubbed his pre-cum wet tip against my clit and looked deep into my eyes. It made me absolutely feral.

"Hell. Stop fucking teasing!" I growled. Without another word, he slid into me and put my legs over his shoulders. I moaned loudly and curled my toes. He was breathing heavily and you could see how much he was controlling himself.

"You're so fucking tight." He slowly began to move his hips and it drove me wild when I felt him filling me up. "Baby please don't hold back." I moaned and closed my eyes.

"Eyes on me my love." he groaned and thrusted harder. I gasped, a little startled, and looked him straight in the eyes. My hands disappeared into his hair again and his speed increased steadily. I felt everything slowly boiling up inside me and I clenched hard around his dick. That eye contact. His moans. The sounds of our bodies hitting each other and the thick air in the room. Everything began to spin around me and I could no longer maintain eye contact.

"I'm gonna cum!" I moaned as I felt him thrusting even deeper than before. Hugh now closed his own eyes, let my legs off his shoulders and pressed both my hands over my head with one hand to stimulate my clit with the other. He was panting loudly himself. "Cum for me baby. I wanna see how you cum all over me."

That gave me the rest and for a brief moment I thought I was seeing the white light. My legs were shaking like crazy and I felt an incredible pull in my abdomen. Hugh moaned with me and let go of me to support himself with his forearms next to my head instead.

Panting, he rested his head in the crook of my neck while I stroked his sweaty back. Shortly afterwards, I felt his rhythm become more and more irregular until he did a last hard thrust and moaned loudly. The sound of his voice and the feeling of his pulsing dick made my skin crawl and I pressed myself tightly against him with my legs and arms.

There was complete silence for a moment. I could only hear our panting and our heartbeats in the room.

I felt his semen leaking out of me and slowly running down my bottom.

Hugh pulled away to lay down next to me and pulled me to his side before kissing me on the forehead. I smiled at him and stroked his sweaty chest with my hand.

"We should probably have done it before the shower." Hugh said with a smirk and looked at me.

"Or in the shower." He laughed and nodded.

---

After cleaning up, we lay together, our bodies entwined under the blanket. The room is quiet, except for the sound of our breathing slowly returning to normal. Hugh is beside me, his arm draped over my waist, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on my skin. I can feel the rise and fall of his chest against my back, and there’s a comfort in the silence between us.

But there’s also a weight, a need to say something. To define this.

I shift slightly, turning so I can face him. His eyes meet mine, and for a moment, neither of us says anything. Then, softly, I ask. "Do you ever… worry? About what people say about us?”

His brow furrows slightly, and he brushes a strand of hair from my face before answering. “What people say? You mean the age thing?”

I nod, feeling a lump in my throat. “Yeah. And the way they watch us. The paparazzi, the rumors… It’s just hard sometimes.”

He presses a soft kiss to my forehead, his hand gently cupping the back of my head. “I know it’s hard, y/n and I’m sorry you have to deal with all that because of me.”

“It’s not your fault,” I say quickly. “I just… sometimes I don’t know how to handle it. But I don't want to be that person who lets the outside world affect what we have." I whisper. "But sometimes it just... gets to me."

"You're not that person." he assures me, his voice firm but gentle. "You're human. And it's okay to feel that way. The important thing is that we talk about it, like we're doing now.. And you don’t have to handle it alone." he murmurs, his lips brushing my temple. “I’m here. We’re in this together.”

His words are soothing, but there’s still a part of me that struggles with the reality of our situation. I bite my lip, hesitating before speaking again. “Sometimes I wonder… if maybe we shouldn’t—”

“Hey." he interrupts softly, his thumb grazing my cheek. “Don’t go there. We’re good, okay? We’re more than good.”

I close my eyes, leaning into his touch. “I know. I just don’t want it to get too complicated.”

Hugh is silent for a moment, then he asks quietly. “Would it help if we made it official?”

I blink, my heart skipping a beat. “Official?”

He gives me a small smile, his eyes soft as he looks at me. “Yeah. Maybe then they will stop harassing us with their questions." For a moment we both were silent before he started to speak again. "Like… would you want to be my girlfriend?”

My heart swells at the simplicity of his question and made me speechless. Then I slowly nod, a smile spreading across my face. “Yeah." I whisper. “I’d like that.”

He grins, pulling me closer and pressing his lips to mine in a soft, lingering kiss. We stay like that for a while, wrapped in each other, content.

After a while, he pulls back, looking thoughtful. “You know, I’m heading to Australia tomorrow to visit family.”

I nod, already knowing. “Yeah, you mentioned that. How long will you be gone?”

“A few weeks." he says, his fingers brushing over my arm absently. “But… I was thinking. What if you came with me?”

I blink in surprise. “To Sydney?”

“Yeah. I mean, only if you want to. No pressure. I just thought it’d be nice… spending some more time together. Away from all this.”

I hesitate, the idea both exciting and terrifying. “I don’t know, Hugh. It feels… fast. I haven’t even met your family yet.”

He chuckles softly. “You wouldn’t have to. Not unless you wanted to. It can just be the two of us. We can do whatever you want. I just want to spend time with you."

I smile softly at his words, feeling my heart swell.

“I’ll think about it,” I say softly, leaning my head against his chest. His heartbeat is steady beneath my ear, a calming rhythm that soothes the anxiety swirling in my mind.

“Good,” he murmurs, running his fingers gently through my hair. “That’s all I ask. No pressure.”

I bite my lip, thinking it over. The idea is tempting - really tempting.

"Okay." I say, making the decision. "I'II come. But maybe I'll fly out a week later. That way I can maybe meet up with Blake and Ryan, maybe even visit Chris in Boston."

Hugh nods, a relieved smile spreading across his face. "Deal. A week later, and we'll have the best time. Just you and me."

We share another soft kiss, and can't help but laugh against his lips.

After our conversation, we lay there for a little while longer, basking in the afterglow of everything we’d just shared. The weight that had been pressing on my chest for weeks felt lighter now that we’d talked about it.

Eventually, we sat up, and the idea struck me - if we were really ready to move forward, maybe it was time to let the world know about us on our own terms.

“I was thinking…” I start, glancing over at him. “We should post a photo of us."

Hugh’s eyebrows lifted in slight surprise. “You sure about that?”

I nod, feeling a sense of resolve I hadn’t felt before. “Yeah. I mean the media already knows about us and we can't hide anymore. So why not?"

A smile tugs at his lips, and he reaches for his phone on the bedside table. “Alright, I’m in. Let’s take a picture then.”

I chuckle. “But maybe we should put on some clothes first?”

Hugh laughs softly, the sound sending a warmth through me. “Yeah, I suppose we shouldn’t scandalize the internet too much.”

As I sit up, I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the bedroom mirror and grimace slightly. My hair’s a mess from… well, everything, and I’m definitely not looking my best. “Ugh. I look awful.”

Hugh stands up and shakes his head with an amused smile. “You look perfect,” he says, casually reaching into his closet for a shirt. He pulls one on, his muscles stretching the fabric in a way that makes it hard for me to focus. “Come on, we’ll take a cute one.”

I roll my eyes playfully but grab one of his T-shirts from the drawer. “Fine, but if I look weird, we’re deleting it.”

“No way!” he teases, pulling me into his arms once I have the shirt on. “You could never look weird.”

I can’t help but laugh as he wraps his arms around me from behind. He holds the phone up in front of us, angling it to get the perfect shot. “Okay, smile!”

I glance up at him just as he snaps the picture. My smile turns into a laugh, the joy bubbling out of me before I can stop it. I look ridiculous, but when I see the photo, it’s kind of perfect. Hugh’s grinning at the camera, looking all charming and effortlessly handsome as always, while I’m gazing up at him, clearly laughing and obviously so in love.

I bite my lip, hesitating. “I don’t know… I look a little -"

“You look great." Hugh cuts in, his tone firm but soft. “Come on, y/n. This is us. It’s real.”

I glance at the picture again. He’s right. It’s not some polished, perfect photo shoot - it's just us. Happy, in love, and completely ourselves. I sigh, giving in. “Okay, fine. Let’s post it.”

He beams at me, clearly pleased, and starts typing a caption on his phone. I lean over his shoulder to read it:

>>thehughjackman: Caught laughing at all the rumors... guess they weren't all wrong🤫 #couplegoals<<

I laugh, rolling my eyes playfully "#CoupleGoals? Really?"

"You're right." he says, smirking as he backspaces. "How about.. #HughJackedY/n?"

I swat him laughing, and he finally posts it without any hashtag.

I take my smartphone and also post it with another caption:

>>y/ninstagram: Who knew Wolverine was such a softie?❤️🐺<<

And just like that, it’s out there. The world now knows officially. My heart pounds a little faster as the notifications start rolling in almost instantly. I feel a rush of nervous excitement—what will people say?

We sit there, watching as the comments flood in, one after another.

>>vancityreynolds: Took you long enough!<<

>>blakelively:This is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. Love you both!<<

>>ChrisEvans: Treat her right or Cap's coming for you!💪🏻<<

>>zendaya: Omg, stop! You guys are ADORABLE<<

>>officialladydeadpoolmovie: Deadpool approves of this union. Carry on.<<

I glance at Hugh as the comments keep pouring in, feeling a strange mixture of warmth and relief. There’s so much love here—so many people supporting us. It’s overwhelming in the best way.

“I told you it’d be fine,” Hugh says, his voice soft. He nudges me gently with his shoulder. “And look, everyone’s happy for us.”

I smile at him, feeling lighter than I have in days. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

More comments continue to roll in, some from fans, some from friends:

>>florencepugh: I KNEW IT!!!<<

But it’s the fan comments that really make me smile:

>>lordyx3z: Omg, I knew they were together! This makes me so happy!🥹😩<<

>>serenax77: Remember when y/n literally said 'fuck me' during an interview? Manifesting at its finest😂😂😭<<

>>hugh4ewa: Hugh, blink twice if y/n's forcing you to post couple pics😂<<

>>y/nno1fan: About damn time! Y'all had me waiting like the post credits scene of a Marvel Movie!<<

>>mynameseve: I need somebody to look at me, like y/n looks at Hugh😭❤️<<

>>girlpoolxpoppins: Can somebody pls check on Ryan? ASAP<<

>>boyinyellwspndx: y/n: "fck me!" - Hugh: "Say less". Dreams come true folks<<

I can’t help but grin at the flood of positivity. Sure, I know there will be some haters - there always are - but for now, it feels like we’re surrounded by love and support, and that’s all that matters. I glance at Hugh again, my heart swelling as he scrolls through the comments, laughing at some of the more playful ones.

“This was a good idea.” I say quietly, resting my head on his shoulder.

He turns his head slightly, pressing a kiss to my temple. “Of course it was.” he murmurs. “Now everyone knows you’re officially mine.”

I laugh softly, my heart feeling full. “And you’re mine.”

We sit there for a while, reading through the comments and enjoying the moment. It feels like a weight has been lifted, like we’re finally free to be ourselves without worrying about what anyone else thinks.

And honestly? It feels perfect.

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

@spectorrrhgf @tinawantstobeadoll @appetencyfortacos @weskerussy @kellyxo1 @larkkyoris @shukirschtein14 @corvusmorte @carefree-flowerchild @rexmeshlasblog @melmel-fandom @needz1nk @nonamevenus @morganlolitta @angelofthorr @pickuptruck01

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lunamond · 3 months ago

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I know this is by no means a new take (especially here on tumblr) but I'm of the very strong opinion that as written, the Acotar series actually provides a lot of evidence that most (if not all) of Rhysand's actions are in some shape or form always about Tamlin. Even his relationship with Feyre is about Tamlin.

A lot of people hold up Acomaf ch54 as this super romantic turning point for Rhys' character, which is incredibly funny to me because to me it only ever cemented the unfathomable levels of homoerotic obsession Rhysand has for Tamlin.

He admits that during Acotar he convinced Amarantha to let him go out of Utm to check on Tamlin and the Spring court, where he then left a decapitated head branded with the Night court symbol, like some weird bat shaped cat.

He also visits for Calamnai. (What are you doing here on the spring sex festival night, Rhysss?!? He isn't going to pick you!)

Obviously his meeting with Tamlin in Acotar is a classic for any Tamsand fan, his voice is a "lover's caress," he demands Tamlin call him Rhys instead of Rhysand for old times' sake (???!!), he threatenes Feyre‘s life to make Tamlin get on his knees and specifically fixates on her sexual thoughts about Tamlin.

When he kisses her utm to cover up Tamlin‘s scent, she also weirdly remarks on the fact that Rhysand can still taste Tamlin, which... is quite the odd thing to point out, if I'm meant to believe he is only interested in Feyre.

He also has literally admitted, to Feyre herself no less, that his weird roofy lapdance humiliation of her utm was specifically to upset Tamlin.

It just screams of "if I can't have you than I'm going to make your life miserable and steal your girl" behavior.

All his posturing in front of Feyre, presenting himself as the most powerful HL, the prettiest, the best and most just ruler, etc just comes across as him desperately trying to prove how much better he is than Tamlin, which obvs was intended to make him appear more attractive as the new love interest, but quite frankly it just seems kinda pathetic (I mean this affectionately, especially in the context of Tamsand. But eve beyond the ship, I just really adore pathetic fictional men).

Even in Acofas, he cannot stay away from the Spring court, he claims he needs to go there for diplomatic reasons, but he literally has courtiers? He has send both Cassian and Lucien on diplomatic missions before? Why would he personally need to go?

But, when he meets with Tamlin, he tells him that being with Feyre (his mate and supposedly love of his life?!) isn't enough, and he tries to goad Tamlin into a fight. (He wants to wrestle him so bad it makes him look stupid fr). When Tamlin doesn‘t respond like Rhysand hopes, he gets disappointed and dejected. Later, he returns and cooks Tamlin food, an action that has been explicitly romantically coded in this series...

Also, as a side note throughout that entire interaction, Rhys' internal monologue can't shut up about how green Tamlin‘s eyes are.

I'm hyper critical of the Acotar series and Sjm on the best of days, I don't like how Rhysand's character is written at all. But reading him as the most egregious case of a closeted gay guy channelling all his surpressed feelings into being the most toxic ex might be the only way his character writing can be redeemed for me personally (unfortunately Sjm is too much of a coward to ever purposefully write this).

I know its never gonna happen in canon, but to me the perfect resolution to the series would be Rhysand and Tamlin resolving their gay rivalry and finally getting together to live out their thruth as the disaster couple they were clearly meant to be. While Feyre and her sisters get to go off and be free from the clutches of all these toxic men.

#acotar critical #anti acotar #sjm critical #pro tamlin #rhysand critical #anti rhysand #tamsand #tamlin

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freyaphoria · 10 months ago

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Ateez Reactions: You want to keep your hoodie/t-shirt on (maknae line)

hyung line

tw: gaining weight mentioned, being skinny memtioned, stretch marks, hurt-comfort, kissing, insecurities!! (idk why but i can't write tw properly)

taglist: @aim-blossom @itza-meee

San

You had just finished the first month of your relationship with San, you didn't see each other often due to his work so you hadn't been physically intimate yet. Since you had been friends for a long time before becoming lovers, he knew well the things that you were confident in and those that you were not, and he always approached you with respect on these issues. He would try to cover up your shortcomings without letting you know, which is why you've never felt insecure around him before. But why do you feel like you're going to sink into the ground right now?

San was on a week-long vacation and wanted to spend his vacation with you. You are also excited to spend time with him. San had booked a room at a nice a hotel with sea view, and things happened faster than you expected and now you were under him, waiting for his next move.

You were feeling insecure because of your skinny body compared to his wide and muscular body. San was always a gym freak and loved bodybuilding. What if he doesn't like your skinny body?

His hands were touching every part of your body he could find. He never let go, as if you would disappear if he left you for even a moment. "Are you sure? If you don't stop me now, I won't be able to stop again." He asked you without looking up from his buried head in your neck. Your hands were pulling on his hair and you pulled a little hard because you were nervous. San looked up at you because he thought you wanted him to stop. "Love? Is there something wrong?" You were torn between telling him or not, but if you didn't tell him about your insecurity and he found out later, he would be sad and maybe disappointed with you; you didn't know, you were so overwhelmed right now.

"I don't want to take off my t-shirt because I'm so skinny and I'll look bad next to you, you won't like me." San looked at you for a while and laughed. But it wasn't a sarcastic laugh, it was like 'are you giving a fuck about this?'.

"You look bad next to me? Love, you are the hottest person I have ever seen and you call yourself bad? Huh?!" San pulled you closer and brought his face closer to yours. "You're so beautiful! Get that in your mind!" He started tickling you and you were squirming. "San- Sannie! Stop!-" You couldn't talk because you were laughing. He knew how to instantly lift your mood. This was a habit from your time as friends. If one of you was in a bad mood, the other would tickle them until they forgot about that thing.

"Okay okay! I give up!" He left you and you regained your breath. "Say it." "Say what?" "Say that you're beautiful or I'll tickle you again." "I am beautiful." You said, staring at him blankly for a moment before his hands moved back to your waist again. "But can I still keep my shirt on? To make me feel comfortable." "Of course, you are already so beautiful in every way." He nod his head before burying his head in your neck again and whispering into your ear the most beautiful words you've ever heard.

Mingi

It wasn't unusual for you to get close in the studio. You've done it dozens of times before at Mingi's studio. But what was different was that you were insecure about your body these days because you thought you had gained weight. Mingi never commented on your size; He wouldn't talk to you critically, except to tell you how beautiful you were and that he adored you.

But when one of your close friends talked about your weight gain in a very humorous and derogatory way, you inevitably felt bad.

While Mingi was trying to write his new solo song, you were lying on the sofa in the studio and playing on your phone because you couldn't find anything to do. You were startled when Mingi suddenly pulled his chair back and turned towards you.

"Come here." He patted his lap. You lazyly got up and sat on his lap. This was also a habit between the two of you. Whenever Mingi was stressed, he would call you to his lap, hug you, and while your scent enchanted him, new ideas would come to his mind.

Mingi's hands began to wander over your body as he hugged you tightly. He started tugging on the thick hoodie you were wearing. When his breathing deepened, you understood what he wanted. “Put your arms up kitten, help me” he grabbed the hem of your hoodie and tried to lift it up. When you stopped him by grabbing his wrists, he looked at you confused. "I don't want to take it off." When you said it hesitantly, his eyes looked worried. "Did I do something? I'm sorry? Did I make you angry? Is it because of the cake I ate yesterday without realizing it was yours? Kitten, I didn't know it was really yours." If you weren't in a bad mood you'd giggle at him. "No, of course not. It's just... I gained weight and my body is not beautiful. I don't want you to see me like this." Mingi pulled you closer to him and hugged you again while stroking your hair. "Don't be ridiculous. I don't care even if you gain weight. I love you so much that even if you weigh 500 kilos, you will still be the most beautiful woman in the world." You giggled at him. "Is it possible to weigh 500 kilos?" Mingi pulled your hoodie down. "I don't know, maybe not?" You both laughed. "Would you feel more comfortable if we didn't take off your hoodie?" You nodded at him. “Okay kitten, I got you."

Wooyoung

"Would you relax a bit?" It was the first time you and Wooyoung got this close; Yes, he was usually on you all the time, but this was different. You were in his dorm room and you were nervous because someone would break in at any moment, on top of that you were going to show him your body so openly for the first time, and he understood your nervousness. "What if someone sees it?" He was kissing you slowly. "There's no one in the dorm right now. Can you trust me for a bit?" You trusted him, and he didn't force you. At first you wanted to get closer, but then your insecurities took over and you started making excuses.

He pulled you into his lap and held your head in his hands. "Why are you nervous? If you don't want to, I can stop and we can continue our day as if it never happened." You shook your head. "I want, but..." "But what?" You avoided eye contact and started playing with the ends of your shirt. "But you know... I..." Your eyes met as he lowered his head to make eye contact with you. You took a deep breath and spoke. "I'm not happy with my body and I have stretch marks." He looked at you confused. "So? I have stretch marks too? What does this change?" You were too embarrassed to talk so you whined in his lap. He grabbed you under your arms and lifted you into the air, pulling you closer. "Look, if you worry about such small things, you'll miss the moment." His eyes were so full of love that they almost made you forget all your insecurities. "I know I just can't help it. Can I just keep my t-shirt on? Besides I'm scared that someone will come and see me. Please?" He grabbed you by your neck and gently pulled you down to his eye level and kissed you slowly on your lips. "I'm 100 percent sure no one will come, but as long as you're comfortable."

Jongho

You and Jongho hadn't gotten physically intimate enough to take your clothes off yet. You would kiss and hug each other every day, but you wouldn't go that far. Jongho wanted to wait until you were ready and not bring it up so that you don't get nervous. But today, for the first time, when you said you were ready for him, you had doubts. Jongho never made a bad comment about your body, but you still didn't feel good about him seeing your body.

When you and Jongho were lying lazyly on the couch in the living room and the topic came up with physical intimacy, you gave him the green light, Jongho couldn't wait any longer, he changed his position, laid you on your back and started kissing you slowly. Your heart was beating so fast with excitement and tension that you thought he could hear it. He was kissing you deeper than you had ever kissed before, and you thought he was holding back until now. Since only the light of the television illuminated the room, you couldn't clearly see his facial expressions; you got nervous because you didn't know if he liked you, if he was enjoying you, if he was happy... You were afraid that anxiety would start to take over and ruin the mood. So you tried to pull away as his hands moved from your chin to your waist and he slowly started removing your top. You couldn't go back too far and held his hands.

"Don't." You were still kissing, but your pace slowed down. "Hm?" He hummed you without leaving your lips. You didn't know how to tell him. "Don't take off my hoodie." Jongho finally pulled away from you and you locked eyes. But his hands went to your hair and tucked the strand from your face under your ear. "Why? How will I see and feel you then?" You could feel your ears turning red with embarrassment. You mentally thanked the lack of light in the room. "You don't need to see my body because it's not beautiful-" He interrupted you by kissing you and whining against your lips. "Don't be ridiculous." "I'm not being ridiculous, I'm telling the truth."

He picked you up and placed you on his lap. "If you're comfortable, let's keep your clothes on, hm?" You nodded your head, too embarrassed to speak. "Look at me, doll." You lifted your head and looked at him. "It doesn't matter to me, stop stressing yourself. Besides, it makes me very angry that you are so beautiful and you treat yourself unfairly." Just as you were about to open your mouth and object, he interrupted you. "We can do it any way you want, as long as you feel comfortable and safe. Shall we go to the bedroom?"

a/n: I finally completed it! Sannie's was a little long but... Anyway, I'll continue with yandere requests. Yunho is wrecking me these days, so don't be surprised if I post 50 yandere yunho at once. HE IS SO!?!?!?!???!?! You have to stop Jeong Yunho, my heart can't take it anymore.

I don't think anyone reads this a/n place lol so I'm going to ramble on around here from now on.

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shoutydwarf · 6 months ago

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and truly i am sorry i have very little good things to say about this game. like the rest of us here, i waited 10 years for it. i wanted it to be good. i scoffed at the bad reviews, i went into it with all my biases in favor of it. i had complete faith in bioware EVEN as someone that doesn't like inquisition and never once cared about the solas/elf plots. i cannot stress enough that i was a person completely set up to be pre-disappointed in the game, yet i was not.

i've logged 90 hours. i've completed it 1 1/2 times, i've seen all the endings and then i let all of that marinate for a week longer. the retrospection hit and it hit really fucking hard. i'm really tired of criticism of this game being shut down with "you're just a hater/tourist/grifter" especially when that's being directed at ME because yall.

i have been here, in the da community, since i was 13 years old. i am 26 now. my art would not exist without dragon age. my writing would not exist without dragon age. through this entire 10 year long drought i have contributed in NO small part to keeping this community alive. i've written 200 page google docs on dwarf culture. i completely rewrote characters like oghren and cullen. my MUSE, my magnum opus, my favorite of all favorites, is a dragon age oc (love u aeducan). my best friend and i get together at least once a month to sit in her garage for 3 days straight talking and planning out our dragon age ocs/stories/roleplays.

i have a right to be disappointed. i have a right to speak about that disappointment. i have a right to criticize the game. and odds are, the people criticizing it are just like me to some degree. if you're happy with the game GOOD FOR YOU. i wish i WAS YOU.

anyway tldr as mad as i sound in these critical posts, i'm actually just sad. and here lies the warning that this blog will continue being very critical of the game.

#da4 critical #veilguard critical

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startrekmemequeen · 3 months ago

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Personally i don't care about the song but damn YES!!!

HDYWTDT on Ripley is my favourite HDYWTDT of all the campaign 1. It's such a good scene, it's so emotional, it's fucking CINEMATIC, i wanna talk about it forever, i was so excited to see it in the show!!! I was thinking they might change it to make it even more epic but they just fucking cut it out 😭💔

It's my roman empire. Typically when they score a kill on a major villain they all cheer, they're all excited but when they killed Ripley... no one was smiling. No one was cheering and yelling in excitement. The table was so eerily quiet. They were dead serious. And the way they described killing her... damn, that was so cruel. Every character did their absolute best to kill Ripley in the most painful way possible. Not a hint of compassion. No mercy. And personally i think it's pretty damn poetic that they did something like that for Percy, who's 1) is known for being cruel in a fight 2) was literally tortured by this woman. They literally said "it's Percy killing you right now" and they made sure it felt exactly like that.

And it's also a special moment because it perfectly describes them as a group. Scanlan said it. "It's okay, you can curse. You killed one of us." (Also can we talk about Sam's acting and his choice as a player here? This is a reminder of just how much Scanlan is willing to do for his friends. He said it himself, he's a bard not a warrior, yet if you touch his family... well bro prepare to die). And Matt said it: "Vox Machina, how do you want to do this?" And they all gathered together and performed this exceptionally brutal execution, there was no planning no anything, they were in perfect synch in that moment. Even though Vex got the honour of the final blow, it wasn't just her killing Anna. It was all of them. It was Vox Machina. And because of that, it was Percy too. It was the most horrifyingly beautiful thing i've ever witnessed.

the sad thing about 'It's not how it's supposed to end' song in s3e7 of TLOVM is that I want to love it ironically. I think it's so bafflingly badly written, and so jarring tonally. The lyrics 'She ran to him, and HE WAS GONE' is so fucking funny man.

But I can't meme it. Because it's a bad song in a bad show. Every time I think about it, it sucks. I just think about the shot of RIpley sailing away, how the group kill was taken away to focus in on the romance. How Keyleth, Vax and Grog just stand there like :( in the background, how it doesn't compare at all to the campaign's emotion and that's just seven people round a table, man. This is animation and they just went for the most boring way to do Percy's death and then slapped a stupid song over the top.

It needed to be a bad song in a good show for me to love it. It's just a bad song in a bad show. So I can't even meme it, and that's just tragic really.

#sorry for rambling i just.... i really wanted to say this. this thought has been haunting me for so long #i'm so sad about it #esp considering that now tlovm-only fans won't even know about the absolute masterpiece that scene was #i used to rewatch the first two seasons over and over it was such a comfort show #now the mere thought about rewatching season 3 gives me anxiety cause i don't want to experience so much frustration again #i loved tlovm so much. that's why i'm in the fandom in the first place. i watched tlovm and only then i watched the campaign #and not because i was like “aww could be better” but because i was like “damn this show is SO GOOD i want more content about it!”#and i was giving s3 benefit of a doubt even when my friends expressed disappointment i was like NO NO WE SHOULD WAIT #NO NO NO IT WILL BE GOOD AT THE END TRUST ME #and now... well...#the best thing they did this season was Vax's kill on Thordak and what a coincidence! it was almost exactly like in the campaign!#who would've thought #i'm not angry and i don't hate tlovm i'm just... it's not fun watching it anymore #tlovm critical

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scribeofmorpheus · 6 months ago

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Veilguard Review: Doom Upon the World

Warnings: Spoilers for Veilguard, very political review (considers race, gender, religion and choice consequences centred around established Thedas).

Another long post: 4k words

In my first review (Love, Wisdom and Pride), I focused on the relationships most pivotal to Solas’ arc reaching resolution: Inquisitor and Mythal (though heavily Solavellan inspired, I tried to be aware of how the Inquisitor’s role as a rival/friend outside of romance was still considered as an important relationship in his story). This review, on the other hand, will focus on the worldstate and what we lost [x], as well as my speculations on which story beats/companions/advisors I feel should have been integrated into the story for a deeper emotional payoff for past Dragon Age players (and overall story cohesion).

EDIT: Why Dragon Age Veilguard isn't a "Cathedral" thread (very important tet-a-tet about understanding game development politics--especially what was happening in Bioware)

N.B: This review is definitely a critique of something I love, born from love, because—yes, I had expectations; yes, they were high; no, I don’t think that’s a problem; no, I do not hate the game we got, but I mourn for what the devs clearly were building towards with the last 3 games in the series, and from what we know from the internal struggles with Bioware under EA’s helm (as evidence from the development time, layoffs, staff’s disappointment, and the differences between the final game and the concept art) the only thing getting in the way of a truly epic game was corporate meddling and greed.

Spoilers below the cut.

Without further ado, the primary criticism I have is that Varric should not have been our advisor! I read a post somewhere that succinctly surmised the that Varric was chosen as our Advisor so that:

Solas would make an “irredeemable” mistake for all the Solas haters to use as an excuse to simply view him as an antagonist, simplifying the goal of the game to: stop the elf from bringing down the Veil.

Varric was used for marketing purposes rather than story depth choices; he’s popular, beloved and an easy carrot for the EA stick to dangle in front of loyal fans.

His writer has literally been trying to kill him off for the last 2 games! Varric was supposed to die in Inquisition! (lol) [EDIT: Just want to clear up one mistake I wrote here--I say Mary Kirby (Varric's Author) was trying to kill him off since D2, but I meant the scrapped Exalted March DLC helmed by Gaider, and then someone else wanted to kill him off in Inquisition (Mary, I'm sorry I accidentally passed a fib about you!)]

I firmly believe he should have been holding the blight back in Kirkwall, and that his position as Viscount of Kirkwall should have affected the outcome of the blight spreading in the South!

Advisors in the North

Right off the bat, the two best choices for advisor, (excluding the Inquisitor out of favouritism) should have been Dorian and Morrigan.

Dorian: because we’re in the North, the Shadow Dragons are by far the more “grassroots organisation against imperial power” kind of organised body the Inquisition started out as. Since we don’t have a calling to fight against like the Wardens in Origins or a family to try and keep together in a city on the brink of implosion like Hawke, or a pseudo religious-political body to inspire Hope in the faithful like the Inquisitor, Valour, Love and Hope cannot be at the heart of this story. It has to be JUSTICE [x].

Justice for the culmination of Anders’ story; for Merril and everything she endured to repair the eluvian; for Fenris, the origin of his lyrium tattoos (which according to GhilDirthalen’s post, there was a plot point linked to elves whose lyrium bodies did not possess latent magical prowess) and the slaves in Tevinter; for the rebelling elves that should have formed factions as the Dread Wolf’s Agents like the Trespasser epilogue hinted at; for misunderstood spirits hurt by mages like Cole; for the ancient elves like Abelas; for the templars who saw the corruption in their ranks but had no way out because of lyrium addiction like Sampson; for those corrupted by red lyrium that was spreading throughout Thedas with no cause or cure; for the dwarves like Branka, obsessed with the answers held in the Anvil of the Void, or Harding, or Shaper Valta who saw a Titan and witnessed the death of the Legion of the Dead; for Sandal’s prophecy!; for the qunari oppressed by the Qun, turned talvashoth, searabas, hisraad like Bull! Justice for two decades worth of worldbuilding on the part of the writers and the devs who loved telling these stories.

Morrigan: is self-explanatory to the story they were crafting between Solas and Mythal. And what would have been even better is if they actually just explained away the Well of Sorrows’ choice unaffecting the Inquisitor because Morrigan eventually had to assimilate the essence from the well to keep the Inquisitor from going mad—like the anchor had to be tempered by Solas in Trespasser. Easy as that!

The best part is that pitting Morrigan and Dorian as foils of each other further allows the game to have greater stakes and tension because Morrigan (changed by Mythal’s righteous anger and need for justice for what was done to her by the Evanuris) could champion making choices more detrimental to Thedas but ultimately in line with Solas’ plans. And Dorian could make choices that put the safety of Thedas’ citizens at the forefront by sacrificing headway in stopping Solas and his Agents from advancing with their plans!

Best yet, we could have had a hardened vs softened Dorian depending on whether you recruited him in Inquisition, and/or did his quest.

[Inquisitor concept art by Matt Rhodes]

Favouritism Bonus Round: The Inquisitor (or alternatively Morrigan) should have been the voice to champion Rook to seek out the wolf statues, and they should have been present when discussing the memories, as it would have given them more gravitas when uncovering the literal story of "Solas is Andrastian God creating the Veil" or "the Dalish Dread Wolf is being proven to be a saviour" or "Elves originally being spirits in the beginning", or "Titans were at war with the elves" beyond comments like: “Oh, Solas regrets this” or “They were doing it”. (This is the issue with having a “couch setting” for a “war room”—discussions feel less intellectual, factions don’t necessarily bring their own unique viewpoint into the interpretation of Solas’ decisions/Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain’s presence, etc.) Everyone is not digesting the material given like it’s a clue to stopping the world from ending but rather like gossip. With the Inquisitor, as either a friend to Solas, a rival or a romanced Lavellan, finally finding the Dread Wolf’s Achilles Heel after vowing to stop him would have rung true, closed the loop.

Sigh.

This is also why I feel the Inquisitor should have been the one in Varric’s place—like literally. I mean recovering from an injury after failing to catch up to Solas in ACT 1, possibly dispatched by Agents of Fen'Harel! Because they could then be forced to pass the mantle to hunt down Solas to “Rook”. Not dead. Or a blood magic illusion. Just, Inquisitor, wounded, making small talk, sometimes bringing up plot points from Inquisition—your Hawke on the battlements in DA:I or Alistair in the gardens with Morrigan and Keiran.

It would also make more sense for the Inquisitor to be able to use the eluvian to travel between Skyhold and the Lighthouse, allowing for believable absences during plot points where their lack of action inspite of their presence wouldn’t make sense. Not to mention more gut-wrenching if we heard about the South from Inky rather than reading 4 letters!

Previously, I stated how the Inquisitor’s presence needed more weight in the non-Solavellan endings! Some people’s Inquisitor befriended Solas, some hated him, either way, the Inquisitor should have been present for the final showdown beyond a passive observer! If the Inquisitor ended up being the last friend/former love that Solas destroys (in a bad worldstate end where you don’t collect Mythal’s essence), which then prompts Rook to fight him because Solas’ last tie to empathy failed to redeem him, that would have added so many layers! The Inquisitor falling is the last straw for Solas too, whether friend, lover or foe, he fought beside them, stopped Corypheus with them! The Inquisitor was partially his making of a hero; his first “good” mistake! It would then make sense for him to snap, choosing to be a villain in the hopes of being stopped because he can’t stop himself, he’s come too far! Rather than the ‘I am a God’ ending they gave us.

Agency of a “Rook” on an Empty Chess Set (Factions and Backstory)

Personally, from both a writing and a viewer’s perspective, I think our protagonist should have always been linked to the Shadow Dragons (and the factions choices shouldn’t have been incorporated). This is more because, framing one’s backstory as being a member of a faction—not a people with established political positions in Tevinter—siphons the narrative of personal stakes. Imagine being a mage who could have begun with higher approval in Tevinter but lower elsewhere, maybe they’d be saved from the Venatori’s thrall that was linked to Neve’s companion story—again linked to Ashur and the Dragons. Or an elf mage could begin a storyline like that of the city elf in da:o but focused on the Shadow Dragons’ tackling slavery’s presence in Tevinter. A Qunari origin could explore being a refugee aided by the Shadow Dragons as they flee the Qun because they don’t fit in the dogmatic religion. A warden could be a criminal in Tevinter, showing us what is considered ‘rules for criminality’ in a city that corrupt and extremist.

Overall, the factions don’t add much diversity to Rook’s background, backstory, dialogue tree or influence on the world state beyond a last name that doesn’t really matter. With a Shadow Dragons’ background, the very ethos of “Rook” would have been about overcoming oppression, and then the nickname makes sense too, a name to stay concealed, to keep loved ones safe while DAV’s protagonist battles politics, blood mages and blighted gods. It would have been even more meaningful if the nickname “Rook” paralleled “Dread Wolf”, in that it was bestowed by your origin-based backstory antagonist and then used as a call to freedom (we wouldn’t even need a cutscene, this could have been revealed in part of their banter/dialogue). This simple choice would have allowed us to focus on Treviso and the Antaam’s occupation and Tevinter and the Venatori’s rise to power on a more personal level. It would also place our Rook in a position to be a foil to Solas’ “do what is necessary for the greater good” vs “be better than those that came before” plot lines. Building off this, the hardened companion status between Neve and Lucanis should have formed a parallel, with one tilting towards understanding Solas’ extreme efforts to stop the Gods, whereas the non-hardened character should have taken the role of foil. Both of whom would add balance to the tension when discussing Solas’ memories or even in exploration banter during missions (one the “devil” on your shoulder, the other your “angel” depending on where Solas’ actions stand for you since Inquisition).

Finally, the Shadow Dragons' should have been linked to Dorian more directly, potentially created with backing/support from the Inquisition’s advisors/Inquisitor directly (since their default attire is the Shadow Dragon apparel).

Companions: Cole for Compassion; Briala for Rebellion and Revenge

Cole

In my review Love, Widsom and Pride, I briefly touched on the fact Cole (whether recruited, not recruited, kept spirit or changed human) was absolutely necessary as a companion. Because it doesn’t matter which version was present in the world (RIP the tapestry), every iteration of Cole works synergistically with appealing to Solas’ spirit side:

If he wasn’t recruited in Inquisition, he could simply have his default origins as a compassion spirit that ‘follows’ the greatest pain in the Fade that yearns to be healed, giving a compassionate viewpoint to Solas’ folly.

Recruited-to-the-Inquisition Spirit Cole could have a greater connection to Solas than even Varric, seeing as Cole was most likely a literal representation of Solas rewriting his own history of corruption by preventing a spirit from becoming something against its nature.

Human Cole would have a deeper connection to the world of Thedas, and could have been a great tool to prove how change was inevitable, not always a bad thing, and inevitably out of even Solas’ control. And he could still offer insight into Solas' mind via 'remnants' of the time he was more spirit.

Briala

What I enjoy about this companion head canon is that Briala is literally Solas’ direct parallel story-wise:

She’s in love with Celene, the ‘best’ choice for ruler in Orlais even though she burned Briala’s alienage. They share a great power imbalance, with Celene able to affect the fate of all elves in Orlais, yet is unwilling to free them, return the Dales, or concede power even though she claims to love Briala, too. Briala is a rebellion upstart, raised by Felassan for crying out loud. She controlled the eluvians and knew how to get around the crossroads, she has more of a bone to pick with Solas than any other NPC not close to the Inquisitor! (Celene and Mythal share many similarities as well, with Celene seen as the more benevolent of rules when compared to Gaspard the Warmonger; and if Gaspard is in power but controlled by Briala, imagine her being dethroned from her seat of power by Agents of Fen’Harel after she lost access to the eluvians, that would have been a great story arc to explore).

Sidenote on DAV's Romance, Companions and Choice Consequence

Building off having either Cole or Briala as a companion, I do think it would have been nice to have them as non-romanceable too. Don’t get me wrong, I know it's great to have options, but I do feel making everyone “pansexual” wasn’t the right way to go for all the companions. It takes away character choice, personality, taste and individualism from the companions. Dorian’s story would not be nearly as impactful if he could have been romanced regardless of gender. Solas being unwilling to romance any race/gender besides female elf (though a direct correlation to the developers being afraid of the ‘evil bisexual’ trope that was popular in the 2010s) also adds to his story; where he’s reluctant to see the world as real, to accept non-elven people as having agency, because that would mean he wasn’t walking through a see of Tranquil, but instead, he was the Forgotten One out of time.

I also firmly believe that a possible reason Cole wasn’t a companion despite there being plans in place that he’d return (Trespasser epilogue slide, I remember you), is because I can 100% see an EA big-wig being like: “He’s unfuckable. Give us someone hot and brooding and slap a demon in them and you’ve got fuckable-Cole” and then we got Lucanis.

I like Lucanis. I’m not crazy about him, but I enjoy the Machiavllian family drama. Very Renaissance Medici story beats. I adore Mary Kirby as a writer, too, but I feel the introduction to the Crows of Antiva should have been Zevran’s mantle, or he should have at least haunted the narrative and missions related to the Crow factions (of which there should definitely have been factions within the Crows). Considering the fact I romanced Lucanis, I couldn’t shake the fact that a lot of his “acceptance for being bound to Spite” beats paralleled a Human Cole having been ‘cured’ from Compassion.

The romances seem less… memorable to me than past games. The importance of choice means you have to accept the story unfolding based on the consequences of your choices; and gender-locking at least one companion would show the cause and effect of beginner choice. Taash is actually written to prefer women over men, which is vital to their arc around gender dysphoria and being non-binary, they would have been a perfect candidate! I imagine their story would also be a great way to explore how being one race attempting to romance another could have a slower progression rate (again, because of Taash’s multi-cultural background, and their complex feelings at having been raised by a mother so tied to the Qun, them being cagier around a qunari Rook romance would also have added layers!) But with everyone available to be romanced, and having no initial repercussion for early game choices despite which character model would have bruises or cuts (Neve or Harding), genuinely roleplaying as Rook, and not as someone using Rook as a stand-in for ourselves, is more disconnected than previous games. This is why the romances feel off to me. Doing the romanceable companions’ storylines seem like I’m the one trying to date them, not Rook. Maybe it’s because Rook’s established personality is the direct repercussion of a sanitized worldstate!

Foibles of being ‘Unproblematic’: A Sanitised World

The issue with trying to make a game that won’t touch on difficult topics, is that, when you make that game a sequel to a series that was literally built on the backs of tackling real world politics, it makes a lot of the world seem plastic. A poor imitation perhaps.

The World of Thedas book actually tells us that Thedas is a fantasy setting that uses the real world as its backdrop for conflict and world building. Andraste is Joan of Arc. Andrastian faith is Christianity founded by a woman. Orlais is the French bourgeois era. Fereldan is more Highlands/Celtics region if it never had a chance to expand because of the blight. Elves are the disenfranchised (and a direct parallel to popular elven cultures that were often portrayed as the pinnacle of advanced magic/civilisation). City elves live in alienages (literal ghettos). Dalish elves (native to the land) are being run out of their homes, the Orlesian’s are trying to claim the territory for their Empire, and their numbers are dwindling, their culture and language a poor imitation of what it had been, barely surviving colonialisation! Dwarves have a caste system that determines everyone’s future! Dagna had to leave her home! Harding grew up on the surface. Varric’s whole plot thread anchoring him in act 1 of DA2 is helping his brother discover Deep Roads riches so they can get their family’s title again.

And through all 3 games prior to Veilguard, we’re told the Ventaori are monsters, the Imperium is crueller to its elves/slaves than any place in the South! The best option beyond turning Feynriel tranquil in DA2 (one of the few Dream Walker mages) is to send him to Tevinter. What becomes of a half-Dalish mage in Tevinter? Neve, our first companion beside Harding, is determined to make Dock Town a place worth living! So, to walk into Veilguard and have no slavery storylines in a place called the fucking TEVINTER IMPERIUM (modelled after the fucking Roman Empire close to collapse) is so jarring. So unbelievable. What injustice is Neve battling? What woes has Dorian been dealing with in the Magisterium?

The closest we get to seeing the darkness that exists in the world (besides the hanging corpses lining the streets of Dock Town if you save Treviso) is the side quest where a father makes a deal with a demon to keep his child alive by sacrificing so many innocents.

And then there's Tevinter's "savage" neighbours, the Invading forces of the Qun! Frightening, right? But from the blasé manner the Qun's rigidity is discussed, it is framed as though anyone can simply up and leave the Qun if they so wished it, according to Taash’s mom. Yes, Taash is being hunted, and their mom is taken prisoner, but it was all in service to a tablet that discussed fire-breathing, not about returning to the Qun. Iron Bull being deemed talvashoth holds less severity when the consequences of leaving a subjugating, dogmatic, religious-political society are simply... nothing. There's no anchor to Taash being raised in Rivain for safety reasons beyond keeping their fire-breathing secret. And what of all the elves that commit to the Qun? Why are there no elf converts among the Antaam? What about the fucked-up stuff the Dwarves of Kal-Sharok were doing before Veilguard? Kal-Sharok dwarves apparently were changed by the First Blight, and are supposed to have a ‘tainted’ appearance according to the World of Thedas concept art book. Why are they just... normal dudes in booby armour (lol)?

[Imshael! A demon/spirit of choice & Calpernia as potential companions is insanity>>!]

I possibly wouldn’t have these strong opinions if the games gave the companions more… just more ‘controversial’ stories with harder choices! Veilguard in a way feels like playing a game with child-lock on. Yes, what happens to Tevinter or Treviso looks awful when you see it, but the side-quests, companion stories, NPC dialogues and world around the ‘mise-en-scene’ don’t reflect this--it's like set dressing. The “I can’t believe the Venatori are evil” side comments by Rook in Tevinter when the Venatori takes over become whiny, child-like and “hopes and prayers” coded. Do something then, Rook. You are the hero of this story, are you not?

I am forever grateful that Lucanis is actually hardened and removed as a romance interest if you sacrifice Treviso (finally, good old dragon age consequences).

Now onto good criticism of our companions!

Companions: The Good, the Balanced and the Essential

Good: Neve and Davrin.

Neve is our eyes and heart to Dock Town, our humanising presence for the Tevinter Imperium. She is also written in a way that I find her to have the best agency as a non-romanced character than most.

Davrin is a breath of fresh air for the reputation of the Grey Wardens, he’s the genuine article. Him owning up to being young and foolhardy when he rejected the Dalish ways in search of adventure, only to be battle-hardened and then become more appreciative of the fact he was taught to live in harmony before he was exposed to the discord of the Deep Roads is such a good character growth moment.

Balanced: Harding. Harding grows into a much more invaluable story piece when she unlocks the Stone Sense and uncovers her people’s history. It’s a rather short-sighted choice to have her be one of the Ultimate Sacrifice characters because what becomes of the story of the Stone? Who hears the song? Who will speak of the Titans to other dwarves if she is chosen to go on the final mission?

Essential: Antoine and Evka! No notes, they should have been conditional companions in a side quest! They’re fleshed out so well, and their relationship is real and built into their character, but it’s not all they are! Antoine is smart, hopeful and also tortured by the new blight. Evka is powerful, pragmatic and also caring.

The Red Herring that should have been: Bellara as an Agent of Fen’Harel! Her storyline would have worked with the concept of being found ‘suspicious’ by players if the Agents of Fen’Harel were an active group. A Veil Jumper in Arlathan whose brother got entabgled with a Forgotten One? Someone who is an outright believer in the elven pantheon? O, Bellara, the power you would have had as a possible double-agent in our midst, only for us to have been wrong in doubting her and having it be someone else! Race and position to power should have inforced so many story beats in this game, man!

Finally: Religion, Where?

I’m a little exhausted, so I’ll wrap this part a little quickly. Religion is paramount to understanding the decisions and states of mind of so many characters in Thedas. Leliana’s arc alone is one of the most intimate insights into Andrastian faith! The Inquisitor is literally responsible for appointing the Divine! The Divine can call for an Exalted March! The Black Divine is a huge plot point when discussing the differences between the Southern and Northern iterations of the Chant. Tevinter’s Old Gods (Archdemons) are blighted dragons linked to the Evanuris that whisper the will of their masters to humans. Archdemons are responsible for the Blight, our first “save the world kiddo” moment in da:o! So where is the disbelief in the streets that Elven Gods exist? Why is it always “Our Gods” are back? What about city elves who believe in the Chant of Light? Where is the Black Divine? Why is everyone okay remaining Andrastian when the fact Solas made the Veil is revealed? Where is the politics and religious civil war in the streets between NPCs?! Between companions? Why isn’t there a cultish, zealous group of extreme Andrastians following Solas around? Why isn’t there another version thinking of Solas and all elves as the second coming of Maferath? How are city elves fairing compared to Dalish elves at the reveal it’s their pantheon gunning to end the world? Again! RACE AND POLITICS MATTER! They always mattered in Thedas before, yet here they are anecdotal at best.

The Veil Should Have Come Down

It’s apparent to me, and numerous others, that Veilguard was stunted by its attempts to be an entry piece that wasn’t alienating to new players of the RPG game format, but it was also haunted deeply by it’s very EPIC tapestry mechanic (choices mattered!). Ironically, Veilguard served to be a soft re-boot of the series. This, I think, was the grandest mistake. If they meant to reboot the series for future instalments, we should have fundamentally changed the physics and rules of Thedas completely to allow the next instalment to start from the literal ground up. By bringing down the Veil, we’d finally free the Titans, introduce the concept of Dwarves with magic, awaken the Forgotten Ones and maybe allow for new species/lore/concepts to shape the future. And to work around the tapestry, they could have simply set the next sequel 200 years later. Sent our heroes to rest. Ended with a new canvas.

It should have concluded with the very ending that was prophesied by Sandal in DA2:

“One day the magic will come back. All of it. Everyone will be just like they were. The shadows will part, the skies will open wide. When he rises everyone will see.”

Bonus: Anaris should have been a DLC boss with Fenris involved!

Why, you ask? Just this data-mined codex entry still present in the game:

Truth be told, like they did with Corypheus in the Origins DLC, I think they could very well bring him back as the big bad of DA5—which I think should have always been about fleshing out the war between the Titans / the Forgotten Ones / Evanuris!

Anaris and a waking Titan?! That would have been beyond amazing!

Which… again, is why the Veil should have COME DOWN!

P.S.: I know a lot of these criticisms seem like unhappy nitpicks, but I did enjoy Veilguard, I got an ending I could live with. BUT I am so angry by how many roadblocks are placed before game devs with a clear story in mind--as is obvious with the concept art book. Obvious threads were leading to Veilguard having always been the end of the Dragon AGE! We kill the last Archdemon! The last dragon linked to the Gods and the blight! The game developers have even alluded to having fought tooth and nail with EA's suits, but could only manage to give us the game we got. And I'm beyond grateful. But MAN does it hurt!

Remember to say thank you to the writers/artists/voice actors on their socials, they deserve a little love too.

Fin!

#dav spoilers #datv spoilers #veilguard spoilers #dragon age #rook #dragon age critique #veilguard review #solas #varric tethras #cole dragon age #felassan #morrigan #zevran #mythal #da2 #dao #da inquisition #dorian pavus #thedas

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redtsundere-writes · 1 year ago

Text

OnlyFans | Toji Fushiguro

onlyfansboyfriend!toji fushiguro x femphotographer!reader

Sypnosis: You recently discovered that your boyfriend has an OnlyFans. You think he could look sluttier. Warnings: Minors do not interact. Mdni. Top!Toji Fushiguro, oral sex, smut, vaginal sex, rough and raw sex. Word Count: 1830 words. Author's Note: I was inspired to write this fic after reading @jujutsubaby 's headcanons.

Your feet were pedaling as fast as you could to get to your boyfriend's apartment. The wind rushed through your hair as you maneuvered the bike horns throughout the street. You just had been promoted, and you wanted to tell your boyfriend the good news in person. Maybe you could go to dinner and you would invite him this time. Toji was the one always taking you out to dinner every weekend, showering you with lavish gifts and sending flower arrangements to your office. You had barely been dating for 6 months, you didn't know what exactly he did for a living, but you knew he never had to worry about money.

You got to the apartment in record time and opened the door with the copy of the key he had recently given you. High-pitched moans along with your boyfriend's groans immediately caught your attention. "Fucking bastard, he's cheating on me!" you thought, filling up with rage. You ran to his room to catch him in the act, but you were the one who got the surprise.

You opened the door to his room and froze at the scene. Toji was masturbating his erect cock in front of a camera perched on a tripod in front of you. He was moaning like a bitch in heat as he rubbed the tip in circles with his veiny hand while a purple cock ring at the base of his big dick. His body was oiled up, his lips slightly opened and the sound of his skin against itself created such an amazing erotic image that your panties got instantly wet. The high-pitched moans came from a porn video playing on his computer. You knew your boyfriend was a sexual beast, but you didn't plan to see him like that at that moment.

“Hello, my love, what are you doing here?” Toji asked, breaking the character he was acting in front of the camera. He paused the porn video, turned off the camera and sat on the edge of the bed as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. His cock was still erect, patient to be touched again.

“What the fuck is this?” You ask confused, pointing at the camera and his beefy, oiled up body.

“I'm shooting a video for my OnlyFans,” he answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. If your jaw was already on the floor, it was now underground. “Oh come on, honey, how do you think I paid for all the stuff I give you? By working honestly?” He scoffed.

“Do you have an OnlyFans?” You asked, processing the information you had just been given.

Toji sighed in disappointment and moved the camera out of the way to approach you. He could see in your reaction that you were disappointed in him. Toji Fushiguro will never quit his OnlyFans for anything or anyone in the world. Since he reached a thousand subscribers, he never had to worry about paying the household expenses or monthly school fees for his son, Megumi. He was a financially free man. He doesn't even remember when was the last time he looked at the price of something before buying it. In addition to the money, he loved the attention he received through the live feeds or the horny comments left on his nude photos.

“If it bothers you so much, let's call it quits,” he replied, annoyed at being criticized.

It was for this reason that Toji never revealed what he did for a living. He was already used to his girlfriends dumping him because of his work. Whenever he told them he was a sex worker, they would either freak out, break up with him or get jealous of his subscribers. It was a shame that you were like the others, he had grown fond of you over the last few months.

“What are you talking about?” You asked confused.

“I know you're going to break up with me. Just give me the key and let's forget this ever happened,” he said directly, extending his hand to you so you would give him the key.

“Toji, I am not mad that you have an OnlyFans. I am mad that you didn't tell me,” you replied annoyed.

He looked at you in surprise at the unexpected accusation. He really thought you'd go off like all the others. It was refreshing to see a girl confident enough to go out with him despite having over a thousand people drooling online over him.

“I want to see your pictures,” you asked.

Toji showed you his laptop with his OnlyFans profile. There were everything from pictures of him in front of a mirror in his underwear to videos of him masturbating. Toji didn't need anything else to be one of the most attractive men in the world, but his profile was very boring. Many of his photos were similar, and all the videos are shot from the same angle. A boring, bland and soporific profile. Toji could do much better than this.

From that day on, you decided to help him improve his profile to get more subscribers. You bought him lingerie, costumes, and sex toys. At the beginning you did it because you wanted him to win more money, but little by little he became your experiment. Every time you saw some hot guy doing something sexy on the internet, you wanted your boyfriend to imitate him. Your panties would get wet, and your nipples would get aroused every time you forced him to wear tight maid outfits, watched him masturbate live with toys you bought him or put him in different positions for the camera. Sometimes they would fuck after the photo shoot, but not when shooting videos.

As the months passed, they had reached 8k subscribers. To celebrate, Toji decided to do a livestream titled: “Fucking my photographer in appreciation for the 8k”. It was Toji’s idea. At first, you completely refused fearing that someone from your work would see it, but he convinced you by saying you could wear a mask and promised to take you shopping afterward.

You rented a room in one of the most expensive motels in town. The room was surrounded by mirrors covering every inch of wall, had a heart-shaped jacuzzi and a king-size bed with white sheets. The perimeter of the ceiling had purple LED lights that helped to conceive the sensual ambiance. You put on the latex bunny mask and a matching lingerie set Toji bought for you.

You lay down on the bed while Toji prepared the camera. He soon climbed on top of you to start the show. He pulled you close to his chest and kissed you passionately. Your bodies rubbed against each other, patient to get to the most interesting part, but you couldn't speed up the process. You had to make the spectators horny with foreplay. His strong hands roamed your lower back, molding your ass to his liking. His wet lips roamed over every part of your hot body.

Toji maneuvered you to his pleasure. He would put you in any position he wanted, rub his big member in any available cavity and make you feel like the only woman in the world. His sharp teeth bit into your bra to tear the fabric and take possession of your breasts. He licked, twisted and massaged your nipples, taking you on a non-stop aphrodisiac journey. Toji wasn't planning to hold back tonight. He was going to reward you for your hard work.

He whipped your body against the bed to get rid of your pesky panties. He stuck his head between your legs, sinking into your delicious shaft. Your back arched as soon as his tongue came in contact with your sensitive meat button. Toji ate you whole as if he had never tasted a bite in his life. You closed your legs due to the high level of pleasure, pressing against his head, but he forced you to open them again. He was a green-eyed predator watching his prey reaction as he tore it apart.

He sat on the edge of the bed and placed you on his lap. Your back was against his beefy chest. You could feel his soft pecs against your shoulder blades. He forced you to sit on his cock, facing the camera. His hands squeezed your waist to force you to ride his dick at an addictive pace you couldn't resist. His big member pounded the depths of your intimacy without any mercy. He spread your legs so that you were fully exposed to the viewers, he wanted everyone to see how beautiful you looked every time he fucked you.

“Toji~! Give me more!” You were a mess, you moaned his name every chance you got and gasped incoherently every time Toji pounded you with the almighty.

“Do you like when everyone sees what a slut you are?” I asked, smirking.

Toji could do whatever he wanted with you. You were his favorite toy, the muse he wanted to satisfy, the woman he owed so much to. He kissed your whole body, he fucked you until you forgot you were being filmed, and his passionate panting moans you crazy. His big cock hit all the right places as he hugged your waist to keep you close, as if you were going to escape. No one is foolish enough to want to escape Toji Fushiguro's strong arms.

“I'm cumming, Toji~!” You gasped as he stuffed you from behind.

The older one wouldn't stop moving even though he was sweating in places where he didn't know he could sweat from. He was ramming you full steam ahead, widening your insides and making sure to give you all he could offer. Your wet pussy could barely withstand the monstrosity he had. You moaned for more even though you knew you were about to cum. Toji decided to speed up the process, massaging your clit wretchedly. Your body contorted, falling victim to the brutal pleasure that coursed through you completely. A spasm took over your body, and you finally cum. It wasn't long before you felt Toji's hot cum invade your insides.

After a long livestream, Toji ordered food from the room service. You were eating burgers on the bed while watching Netflix. Your legs wouldn't stop shaking from the stress you had put them through. It maybe was an ordinary burger, but after three orgasms, it tasted like it was the best burger in the world. Toji put his arm around you to pull you closer to his body.

“You did very well,” he congratulated you. “We should do it more often.”

“I'll think about it,” you said with a shy smile.

His hand moved to your side, drawing your attention. Turns out he had hugged you to sneakily steal a fry from your plate. You slapped his hand to make him let go, and he just laughed nervously.

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kiwriteswords · 8 months ago

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hi! i love your hotch x shy!reader fics! and i was wondering if you could make an angsty fic about the reader n hotch like shy! reader made a mistake during a case and hotch is very protective over her? (like they get into an argument) and please a happy ending! thank you!

Hi!! Thank you!!! Thanks so much for requesting a short drabble! I hope this was what you were looking for!

Drabble Prompts | Other Writing | Ao3

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Shy!Fem!Reader!

Word Count: 800

Rating: Everyone

TW: Canon-typical themes

The Weight of Mistakes

The air in the conference room felt stifling as the BAU team gathered around the table. They were mid-case, and things were tense, to say the least. The unsub was proving difficult to track, and time was slipping away. You had made a critical mistake — one that had cost the team precious hours. It had been a small oversight, but in a case like this, small mistakes were magnified tenfold.

You kept your eyes on the file in front of you, heart pounding, barely able to focus as Hotch gave his final instructions before sending the team out again. Your nerves were frayed, and you could feel the weight of his disappointment looming over you. Hotch was protective, fiercely so, but he was also firm when it came to the job.

As the meeting ended, you hurried out, hoping to avoid any confrontation. But you barely made it to the hallway before you heard his voice.

"Y/N, my office. Now."

You swallowed hard, nodding and following him. The walk to his office felt like an eternity, your stomach churning with anxiety. Once inside, Hotch closed the door softly, which somehow made it worse.

He stood by his desk, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. "What happened today?"

Your voice was small, barely a whisper. "I—I didn't double-check the data, and I misread the location."

"That mistake nearly cost us a witness," Hotch said, his voice tight. "You know how important it is to be thorough."

The weight of his words felt like a punch to the gut. You nodded, tears threatening to well up in your eyes. You hated how small and insignificant you felt in moments like this. "I'm sorry," you murmured, barely able to meet his gaze. "I—I didn't mean to—"

"Y/N," Hotch interrupted, his tone softer now, but still firm. "You can't be this careless. Not in the field, not when lives are at stake."

You flinched, his words cutting deeper than you’d expected. You knew he was right, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. Your insecurities swelled, and before you could stop yourself, the words tumbled out.

"I’m sorry I’m not like the rest of you," you said, voice trembling. "I’m not as confident, or experienced, or… or perfect."

Hotch’s eyes softened, and he took a step toward you, his voice low. "Nobody's asking you to be perfect."

"But I keep messing up," you said, finally meeting his gaze. "And you... you’re always watching me, waiting for me to fail, and I hate it."

His brows furrowed, and for a moment, there was only silence between you. Then, unexpectedly, he stepped closer, closing the distance. "I’m not waiting for you to fail. I’m watching because I care. Because I know how much you push yourself."

You blinked, confused. "What do you mean?"

Hotch sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You’re harder on yourself than anyone else could ever be. And I see that. But today… today scared me. You could have been hurt."

It clicked then. The protectiveness in his tone, the frustration, the way he hovered when you were in the field — it wasn’t about your abilities. It was about him caring. A lot.

Your breath hitched. "I—I just don’t want to disappoint you."

Hotch's expression softened even more as he reached out, gently cupping your chin, lifting your gaze to his. "Y/N, you don’t disappoint me. Not ever. But you have to trust yourself. You’re part of this team for a reason."

You felt the tears welling up again, but this time, they weren’t from shame or guilt. They were from relief, from the overwhelming sense that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t as inadequate as you thought.

Hotch’s thumb brushed your cheek, his touch surprisingly tender. "You made a mistake. We all do. But it’s how you move forward that matters."

You nodded, the tension slowly unraveling from your chest. "I’ll do better," you whispered.

"I know you will," he said, his voice low, almost soothing. Then, after a beat, he added, "But I’m still going to watch over you. I can’t help it."

A small smile tugged at your lips, and for the first time that day, you felt lighter. "I think I can live with that."

Hotch’s lips quirked up in a rare smile of his own, and before you knew it, he pulled you into a hug. It was brief but comforting, grounding you in a way you hadn’t expected.

As you pulled away, he looked down at you, his expression soft but serious. "Just… don’t ever think you have to be perfect. You’re enough, Y/N. Always have been."

Your heart swelled at his words, and for the first time in a long while, you believed them. With Hotch at your side, you knew you’d be okay — mistakes and all.

Tag List: @zaddyhotch @estragos

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner drabbles #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaronhotchner #criminalminds #criminal minds #kiwriteswords

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bwat5-blog · 3 months ago

Text

*Spoilers For Arcane*

Good morning everyone. It is no secret I have been immensely critical of the views held by the good folks over at Arcane Critical. I have disparaged their views, and the ways in which they express them in equal measure. And it would be dishonest to pretend I've always done so with civility and respect.

One of my primary complaints and criticisms has been the lack of any detailed analysis on their part. I have not been able to find anything backed up with content, and good thought-out details supporting their stances.

To that end, something occurred to me this morning. I have seen the same video referenced and listed by many of them justifying their views, and have made no effort to watch it.

youtube

*This Video by youtuber Pugs4thugs*

A full two hour long video, repeatedly referenced by people I was accusing of never presenting anything of substance to back up their words. This seemed hypocritical. So this morning I made an effort to remedy that. I admittedly am quite disappointed by my findings, sad to say.

*I ONLY VIEWED THE FIRST 20 MINUTES*

Why am I putting that in giant bold red letters? Because I want to be very clear and honest here. The overall topic of this video is to do with the political ideology shown in Arcane itself. That was not my purpose.

My purpose, was to determine if this video contained what I have been searching for regarding someone actually backing up what they are saying, and referencing this video as evidence. I received all the information needed to make that determination with the first twenty minutes.

First, let me say a few things:

I know someone else on here watched this video with their own response and I believe Pugs4thugs responded. If you see this, feel free to respond if you wish to discuss.

Again, this is NOT about the political ideology side of this video. I am doing what I have tried to focus on doing since coming on here for the most part. Sticking to the content. As far as I am concerned it would be unfair to judge if the creator stuck the landing on their point politically, without a full watch and analysis. Therefore I will not be giving an opinion.

I watched only a small portion of this video. I don't know why the creator would. But if somehow they go on to elaborate on one of the things I mention past the point I watched in a way that makes my response unfair, I will happily admit as much.

I am NOT doing a whole long, in-depth response to each of these points. I have done so in various other posts. Just going to list some of the things I came across in the video with a quick thought each.

00:43- Discusses their own tweet in which they call Caitvi "copaganda".

No:

A relationship involving the cop character learning of the corruption in the system because of their journey with the other person.

Then having the relationship be sundered when both characters act as part of the system, with one leaning all the way into authority and power out of grief and rage.

Then having the relationship restored by the cop character giving up their anger and control, literally allowing for someone to be freed from imprisonment because they choose love for the other person over hate is not copaganda.

2:11- They lament "zero acountability for a character instituting Martial Law"

It is always possible they meant someone other than Caitlyn. I rather doubt it. Caitlyn didn't institute Martial Law. Ambessa tricked the elite of Piltover into doing that. I actually covered this recently with time stamps and all. I can paste here if needed.

13:03- While listing further evidence of Zaun's struggles lists no real medical care outside of Shimmer

I know this comes from that discussion Caitlyn had with Huck. That didn't go for the whole dang undercity. They were in the slums and in a particularly bad area of them at that. Have we forgotten that central street we see so many times just packed with businesses including the brothel? I'm not saying it is to the same degree as Piltover. But Singed invents Shimmer in the course of the story we see in the show. What have Zaunites been doing up til then? How are there any of them left?

15:28- While discussing Ekko also lists Sevika as someone "clearly interested in the wellbeing of Zaun"

One of them created a safe haven for addicts and victims of the drug the other one helped unleash on her own people. I don't think placing them on the same playing field is reasonable.

I've discussed Sevika's wrong doing a lot lately. I'm not trying to hammer the point, so I'll forgo the list this time. But I would say no matter her inner most intentions, her impact on Zaun is strictly negative until Season 2.

18:28- Discussing aftermath of Jinx's attack. Nothing is said of the death or destruction. Discusses "lots of prejudice towards Zaunites" including from Caitlyn, making a point to use a GIF of her clearly saying the word animals.

Now in fairness, given the trajectory of this video I am quite sure Caitlyn is going to come up plenty in the portion I didn't watch. But again, context helps here. I don't see a portion detailing the fact that Jinx killed Caitlyn's mother, 2 other councilors, maimed 2 more, blew up the council chamber, and that Caitlyn says that about the Zaunites who attacked a peaceful memorial in our future

19:00- Discussing martial law “Piltover goes under martial law to keep city safe which is a fancy way of saying “lets oppress Zaun harder”

Completely and totally disregarding any and all context relating to Ambessa and her plans.

20:42- On The Ending “Things between Piltover and Zaun are good enough for Zaun to… fight for Piltover, when Piltover has offered them nothing in return. I’m trying not to be snarky but I don’t see how I can’t be"

Conclusion:

As I have tried to make a point of saying repeatedly, I only viewed a very small portion of a much longer video. So if it turns out they go on to give full context and reasoning behind these points, I will admit my mistake gladly. But from this small sampling, I am sad to say it seems like another example of twisting the content to suit a preconceived stance. Rather than forming a stance from the content itself.

#Youtube #arcane #caitlyn kiramman #sevika arcane #shimmer arcane #ambessa medarda #vi arcane #caitvi #caitlyn arcane #piltovers finest

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