#family friendly hip hop
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i watched My Neighbor Totoro for the first time, here's my chronological viewing experience:
woo-hoo! dusty old japanese house with japanese architectural details aplenty
these kids got some ENERGY my goodness
family dynamic's adorable. peak quality dad humor
kids: our house is haunted. parents: that's so cool!
hell yeah, wrinkled old lady rep. we need more friendly old women with potato faces and warts like storybook witches. the backbone of society, these ladies
Plot Summary: Small Child Bothers Local Wildlife
sacred tree sacred tree sacred tree
Introducing Totoro! nobody said this fucker's got TEETH???
Uh-Oh! Inadequate Parental Supervision Detected
(you misplaced your four year old! you're not supposed to do that)
4-year-old: i met a magic forest spirit. dad: oh shit fr?
4-year-old: *angrily hugs sister* missed u bitch
this small child has a smile like a toad. like a really really cute toad. like the cutest toad in all existence. i love her she's perfection please just let this child be happy
rice paddies are so pretty....so back breaking....rice is such a prissy crop
*my crush is stranded in a rainstorm* takethisumbrellait'syoursnowBYE *runs away in panic im so good at flirting*
Giant Chinchilla Learns To Hold Umbrella, Is Fucking Delighted By Experience
take this, it will help you on your quest! *hands u trail mix wrapped in a leaf*
LO-FI HIP HOP STUDY LIST!
crouching down to peer at dirt--A++ top notch foundational childhood experience
mom has a big ass forehead
honey! the chinchillas are performing Rituals in the backyard again
help yeah let's jack and the bean stalk this shit
huh so we're all just climbing aboard the giant chinchilla's tiddies now ok
class trip!
the pure adrenaline of Vegetable Gardening
no! the small child is crying! she is bawling her eyes out. no no no. i can't cope with this. emotionally i cannot cope 🥺🥺🥺
i've only had Mei one hour but if anything happens to her i will raze this earth and everyone on it
please someone make this small child smile again
oh no the tall child is crying too
i can't take this. my heart can't take this.
i need a drink
small child running determined to deliver magic veggies to the hospital. this kid is my hero
she is also unsupervised. so, so unsupervised
babe you are FOUR
godDAMMIT ghibli, you cannot give me watercolor sunsets while a small child is missing. u are killing me. my heart is giving out. this is me, experiencing heart failure.
Totoro to the rescue!
no wait CATBUS to the rescue!
i admit i initially thought the cat was a creep. alice in wonderland prejudiced me. i have revised my notions of smiling cats
i've decided the cat is a metaphor for the magic of a robust public transport system
MEI'S OKAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!
and so is mom. she's a lovely lady im sorry for what i said about her forehead. it's a noble forehead.
happy ending YES bitch!!!!!!
ok. ok ok ok. that was magical.
(as a first-time adult viewer i was worried i wouldn't be able to Access the Magic. but i could and i did and it was incredible. that was culture. that was ART. joy distilled into animated form. holy rites of childhood. i understand now. how glorious, this world we grow out of. how full of marvels. i'm going outside to smell grass and sun and get dirt under my fingernails. miraculous.)
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hiitsm · 11 months ago
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A Family Celebration
Your four year old daughter is so excited for the gender reveal party of her new tiny baby sibling.
Pure Fluff.
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Request here
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As you held your squirming four-year-old brunette daughter on your hip, you felt a mix of pride and love bubbling inside you. Both of you were eagerly awaiting your wife Alexia to come see you. She was playing in an el clásico match against Real Madrid and currently had a 3-0 lead. She even scored a beautiful goal. Your daughter had been excited ever since you told her this morning that the two of you were going to watch her mami’s game together.
Before the match, you and your daughter were in the FC Barcelona store to buy a small Barcelona onesie that your daughter insisted on getting for the new tiny baby sibling, whose gender you were revealing tomorrow. "Mamá, we have to get that for the tiny baby sibling," Aubrey had told you. Because you went to the store first before the match, Aubrey wanted to show the small onesie to her mami and couldn't sit still the entire match. That's why you went down the stairs early, waiting for your wife when the final whistle would blow.
"Mami, Mami, ¡nosotras estamos aquí!" Aubrey's little voice rang out eagerly, her tiny hand waving in the direction her mami was walking. Alexia hadn't noticed right away; she always took her time with the fans. You had promised to meet her in the players' tunnel after the match, but now your position was temporarily occupied by your excited daughter.
It was Mapi León who reached you first, teasingly exclaiming, "Are you seriously asking for your mami first? What about me? Your favorite tía?" She scooped Aubrey up into her arms, eliciting delighted giggles from the four-year-old.
"Tía Mapi, tía Mapi, I have to show you something! Put me down!" Aubrey giggled, her excitement palpable, and it brought a smile to your face. Anticipating the moment, you retrieved the onesie from the bag.
"No, Mamá, I want to show her!" Aubrey grabbed the bag from your hand, her enthusiasm bubbling over. "I know, mi amor, go show her," you encouraged her, knowing how proud your daughter was to become a big sister.
"Look what we got for the tiny baby sibling!" Aubrey proudly held up the tiny baby FC Barcelona onesie. "Wow, this is so cool! Let me see the back," Mapi exclaimed, settling down on the field as Aubrey climbed into her lap. It was a heartwarming sight.
"No Léon name on the back?" Mapi teased, raising an eyebrow.
"No, Mapi, no number. Baby sibling loves all the friendly and kind teammates!" your daughter explained, her voice filled with conviction. You couldn't help but chuckle softly at their exchange.
"But when we get tiny a jersey, it will be Mami's name on the back," Aubrey declared, hopping off Mapi's lap and darting away as Mapi playfully chased after her, shouting, "No, mi nombre, ¡mi nombre!"
Alexia moved closer to you, smiling as she heard the commotion and watched the chaos unfold with your daughter and Mapi. Mapi had caught Aubrey in her arms and was swinging her around upside down, eliciting delighted giggles from the little girl. Alexia couldn't help but laugh at the playful scene.
"Mami, help por favor, esta loca," Aubrey called out between giggles, prompting Alexia to step in and rescue her from Mapi's playful antics. She scooped up Aubrey and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Hola, mi vida," Alexia greeted her daughter warmly.
"Hola, mami! I want to show you something. We have to go to mamá!" Aubrey pointed excitedly in your direction, and you waved back at them.
Your daughter's excitement was palpable, and it filled Alexia with warmth and anticipation. As Aubrey settled into Alexia's arms, she felt the familiar sense of comfort and security that always seemed to envelop their daughter whenever she was held by her. It was a beautiful bond that they shared, one that made Alexia's heart swell with love.
"Hola, mi amor," Alexia greeted you with a soft kiss, her eyes filled with affection. "Did you enjoy the match?"
"Of course, it was amazing. You played so well, mi esposa," you replied with adoration.
"I saw your goal, mami, it was amazing!" Aubrey cheered, wrapping her little arms around both of your necks in a tight hug.
"Now go show your mami what you wanted to show her this whole match," you encouraged Aubrey, nodding towards the onesie lying on the grass. "Mami, look what we got for tiny baby sibling!" Aubrey held the tiny onesie up in the air, her excitement contagious.
"Wow, pequeña, that's beautiful. Your baby sibling will love it just as much as we love it!" Alexia showered Aubrey's face with kisses, eliciting giggles from their daughter.
"I heard a small, tiny pequeña is here," you noticed Ingrid's voice right away, just as Aubrey did. "Ingrid! Te he echado de menos!" Aubrey almost jumped out of Alexia's grip and hugged Ingrid fiercely. They went off to play some football together, giving you and Alexia some precious time alone.
"How are you feeling, amor? And how is our little one in your belly doing?" Alexia's soft voice returned.
"We are doing fine, amor. We had a blast today," you said with a smile.
"The girls want to celebrate this win, I won't be away for too long," Alexia said apologetically, something you didn't like.
"You should enjoy and celebrate, amor. You deserve to celebrate this win. I got the little girls. The three of us will be fine," you assured her with a soft smile.
"I know you will, but we also have to decorate our living room for the gender reveal tomorrow," Alexia said, lost in thought.
"I think your mami and sister already did that today. They wanted to be very discreet, but,.. and I promise you I don't know how, but Alba's dog touched our bell and I got this notification," you both laughed loudly.
"That dog is tiny but thinks that he's big," you laughed again.
"Mamá, are we going home? I'm tired," your daughter yawned.
"Yes, mi amor, we are going," Alexia helped Aubrey get over the bars. "I will see you all tonight, okay? Be nice to your mamá." Alexia kissed Aubrey's head softly, and after giving you a soft kiss, she said, "Te amo mucho."
As you and Aubrey step into the house, you're immediately greeted by the sight of the decorated room. Streamers in pink and blue hang from the ceiling, balloons scattered across the floor, and a banner reading "Gender Reveal Party" is hung up on the wall. Aubrey's eyes light up with excitement, and she squeals in delight, running around the room to explore every corner.
"Wow, look at this, Mamá!" Aubrey exclaims, pointing at the balloons and streamers. "It's so pretty!"
You can't help but smile at her infectious enthusiasm. "It's beautiful, isn't it, mi amor?" you reply, kneeling down to Aubrey's level. "They did such a great job decorating."
Aubrey nods enthusiastically, still taking in every detail of the room. "Can we have the party now, Mamá?" she asks eagerly.
You chuckle softly, ruffling her hair affectionately. "Not yet, mi vida. We have to wait until tomorrow for the big surprise."
Aubrey pouts for a moment but then brightens up again. "Okay, Mamá. But I'm so excited!"
You make a mental note to send a text to Alexia's mother and sister to thank them for their efforts in decorating the room. It's gestures like these that make you feel grateful for the support and love you have from Alexia's family.
As the evening wears on, you find yourself settling into bed with Aubrey, who's already fast asleep, cuddled up beside you. She's wearing an old jersey of Alexia's, her tiny form snuggled comfortably against your side. Your hand rests protectively on your small baby bump, feeling the gentle movements within.
Later, Alexia arrives home, a little later than expected, and quietly slips into the room. She smiles tenderly at the sight before her—her two loves peacefully sleeping. Aubrey in her old jersey, and you in one of her oversized shirts that you've claimed as your own.
With a soft sigh, Alexia climbs into bed beside you, careful not to disturb either of you. She gazes at the scene before her, feeling an overwhelming sense of love and contentment. Quietly, she reaches out to gently brush a strand of hair away from your face before settling down, allowing sleep to claim her as well.
In the dim light of the room, the three of you sleep soundly, wrapped in each other's warmth and love, eagerly awaiting the joyous celebration that awaits you tomorrow.
The next morning arrives with a gentle light filtering through the curtains, signaling the start of a new day and an exciting event ahead. As the sun begins to rise, Aubrey stirs awake, her eyes fluttering open as she feels the anticipation bubbling within her.
With a yawn, Aubrey sits up in bed, her small hand reaching out to gently shake Alexia awake. "Mami, mami," she whispers excitedly, "today is the day we will find out if it's a baby sister or baby brother."
Alexia's eyes slowly flutter open, greeted by Aubrey's eager face. A smile tugs at her lips as she takes in her daughter's excitement. "That's right, mi pequeña," she murmurs, pulling Aubrey into a warm embrace. "Today is the big day."
You stirred from your deep slumber, feeling the gentle nudges from Alexia urging you to wake up. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you apologized groggily, realizing you had slept longer than intended.
Alexia, ever understanding, brushed off your apology with a soft smile while a hand came to caress your small baby bump. "No need to apologize, mi vida. But Aubrey is really excited to show you her outfit and have her hair braided."
With a quick breakfast, the morning began to unfold, and the sound of excited little footsteps drew your attention. Aubrey bounded into the room, a bundle of energy, proudly displaying her chosen outfit. "Is this good, mamá?" she asked eagerly.
A smile tugged at your lips as you admired Aubrey's selection, actually Alexia's pick. "Yes, mi amor, that's perfect," you replied warmly.
As you began to braid Aubrey's hair, she promised to sit still, her enthusiasm evident in every movement. However, her excitement proved too much, and soon she was squirming in her seat, unable to contain her energy for long.
You couldn't help but chuckle at Aubrey's antics, her infectious joy filling the room and lifting your spirits. Despite the chaos of getting ready, you couldn't imagine a more perfect start to such an important day.
The anticipation in the room was palpable as everyone gathered for the gender reveal. Friends, family, and teammates of Alexia filled the space, their excitement adding to the atmosphere.
Standing by your side, Alexia held you close, her hand tenderly resting on your baby bump. You couldn't help but beam with joy, feeling the warmth of her touch and the love radiating between you.
In front of the cake, Aubrey waited eagerly, her eyes shining with excitement. "Can I go now, mami?" she asked, her enthusiasm contagious.
Alexia, ever the responsible parent, reminded Aubrey of the importance of cleanliness. "Did you wash your hands, as we practiced?" she inquired, a playful twinkle in her eye.
With a nod and a quick dash to the bathroom, Aubrey returned, her hands squeaky clean and ready for the big moment. Alexia couldn't help but chuckle at her daughter's eagerness, her heart swelling with love.
"Okay, mi amor, go ahead," Alexia encouraged, giving Aubrey the go-ahead. With a swift motion, Aubrey's hands plunged into the cake, pulling out pieces of pink frosting. "A tiny baby sister!" she exclaimed excitedly, her face lighting up with joy as she tasted the cake.
The room erupted into cheers and laughter, the air filled with happiness and celebration. As everyone celebrated the news, Alexia leaned in close, whispering against your lips, "Another baby girl." You leaned in to kiss her, your hearts overflowing with love and gratitude.
Afterward, you turned to your daughter, pressing a gentle kiss to her head, feeling blessed to share this moment with your growing family.
''Now mamá, you should eat this cake for tiny baby sister, she needs a taste!''
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gogogodzilla · 1 year ago
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day 13, mommy kink
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wanda maximoff x reader warnings: nsfw 18+, fingering, cunnilingus, wanda calls reader sweet girl, slight dub-con, vision doesn't exist kinktober ☠︎︎ main masterlist ☠︎︎ read on ao3
Wanda had this innate ability to invade your ever-waking thoughts. You supposed it was partly due to her powers. She gave you a taste of what she was capable of when she was aligned with Ultron, and she effortlessly invaded your mind. However, since then she has been on your mind for a very different reason.
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You flit around your shared house, straightening the Halloween decorations as you pass. You halt in front of the full-length mirror in the hall. You were clad in a  tight, black catsuit that hugged every curve of your figure and a belt with a red hourglass on the buckle. You zip up the bodysuit to your neck. It’s a family-friendly holiday, after all. 
You couldn’t for the life of you figure out what your costume is referencing, and you wrack your brain as you stare at yourself in the mirror. You’re broken out of your thoughts by Billy and Tommy walking into the living room and staring at Pietro’s snoring form on the couch. 
Quicker than you could register, Pietro jumps up from the couch and in front of the boys, scaring them. He begins to chase the still-screaming twins around the living room and you watch with amusement. 
“Oh! Somebody better be bleeding, broken, or on fire,” your wife calls as she descends the stairs. You rush to greet her, and your breath catches in your throat, astonished at your wife’s appearance. 
“Whoa, Mom!” Billy exclaims, echoing your thoughts. He tilts his head to the side, “Are you Old Red Riding Hood?” 
She spreads her arms wide, “I’m a Sokovian Fortune Teller.” 
“You’re beautiful,” you murmur as your wife reaches the bottom of the stairs. Her eyes soften as she looks at you, and she cups your chin affectionately. 
“What’re you supposed to be?” Tommy questions, taking in your appearance. 
You shrug, “Actually, I’m not quite sure. It feels right though.” 
Tommy goes to compliment his mom’s costume but quickly changes his mind once Pietro voices his opinion. A moment passes and Wanda looks startled. Billy goes on to talk to someone unseen. You furrow your brows. 
You blink rapidly and next thing you know Pietro and the kids are furiously playing video games on the living room couch, candy wrappers strewn about. 
Wanda laces her arm through yours, “Looks like they’ve already sampled the product.” 
You look up at her, a smile tugging on your lips, “You haven’t told me much about your brother. I didn’t think he’d be so…” 
Pietro hops up and shows the boys how to shotgun a soda. 
You grimace, “... Good with kids.” 
An idea struck you, and you tug Wanda closer to whisper so the kids won’t hear. “How about we let him watch the kids for the night? We could finally get some alone time. It feels like we’ve had an audience for the past few days.” 
She straightens at your suggestion, but before she can object, Pietro butts in. 
“Great idea! Uncle P can watch the kiddos tonight.” 
Wanda’s gaze jumps between the two of you.  “That’s not what you’re—“ she pauses for a moment to correct herself, “It’s their first Halloween, darling. We wouldn’t want to miss it.” 
You take her gloved hands in yours, “We won’t miss all of it. Besides, I have some decorations that still need to be put up before the trick-or-treaters get here.” 
“Problem solved,” Pietro hums as he slaps you on the back. 
You’re thrust into Wanda’s arms, almost as if an invisible force pulled your feet out from under you. She catches you, eyes wide. 
“Guess I fell for you once again,” you grin as you press a kiss to her cheek. You hear a distant ‘awww’ and tilt your head.  
Wanda pulls you up, her hands lingering on your hips. “Where’d you say those Halloween decorations were again?” 
You aren’t quite sure how you got to the bedroom. One minute you’re in the living room and the next thing you know you’re in your shared bedroom. Wanda shuts the door behind her and approaches you. You don’t turn to face her, your mind scrambling to fill in the blank periods of time. 
She wraps her arms around you, and litters kisses in the crook of your neck. Instinctively you tilt your head, granting her further access. 
“You don’t have to worry about anything, hun. No one can see us in here,” she whispers against your neck. Her hands are roaming your body and you can’t think straight. 
Your heart is palpating so rapidly that you think it may beat out of your chest as she reaches for the zipper of your costume. Her breath is tickling the back of your neck, and her free hand is meandering dangerously close to where you desperately need her. 
She gradually tugs the zipper of your costume down, and you let out a gasp as she slides a gloved hand into your bodysuit to cup your breast. She rolls your nipple between two of her fingers and you arch against her. 
“You want mommy to touch you, sweet girl?” she rasps against your ear as her free hand moves to drag a finger over your hip bone. 
Your hips jut forward, begging for her touch. “Yes, mommy. Please, please touch me.” 
Wanda gives a satisfied hum and pulls her hands away. Your whine is cut short by Wanda pulling your suit down over your shoulders. You hastily pull your arms out of the sleeves and undo the belt around your waist allowing it to fall to the floor. She tantalizingly rakes her hands down your body and hooks a finger on either side of the waistband of your suit. 
In one swift motion, your suit and underwear hit the floor. Your nipples perk up against the cool air of your bedroom. 
“Let mommy see you,” Wanda purrs, taking a step away from you. 
You turn, shyly. Wanda’s face lights up as she takes in your naked form. She steps forward and cups your face with one hand. Your lips meet in a featherlight kiss and you smile against her ruby red lips. She smoothes a hand over your ass and squeezes and you gasp. 
She pulls away, nearly as breathless as you. “Get on the bed, baby,” she orders, voice gentle. You obediently climb onto the plush mattresses and lay on your back, spreading your legs. 
A light moan leaves her, seeing your legs spread and waiting just for her. She saunters over and holds out a hand to you, “Put that pretty mouth to use,” she commands, eyes flicking to her glove. 
You sit up, eagerly. You take the tip of her middle finger in your mouth, gently raking your teeth over each knuckle as you pull away. Your teeth latch onto the tip of her glove, and you tug it off of her. Wanda takes her glove from between your teeth and pushes two fingers passed your lips. You run your tongue over the pads of her fingers, sucking lightly. You want to be good for her. 
Her other hand grazes over your cheek, and she tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. She pulls her fingers out of your mouth and nudges you back onto the mattress. Her fingertips dance over your thighs as she situates herself between your thighs. 
“So good for me,” she praises before swiping a finger through your now-dripping folds. You arch against the mattress, and your hands grip the sheets. 
She hooks her arms around your thighs and kneels in front of you, her face inches away from your heat. “Such a pretty pussy,” she coos, pressing kisses along your inner thighs. Your hips buck as her breath fans against your core, and she keeps you in place. 
“Please, mommy,” you begged, tears nearly forming. She tsked, nuzzling against your thigh and breathing in your scent. 
She finally latches her plump lips onto your core. She swipes her tongue against you, moaning at the taste. Her grip on your thighs as she desperately pulls you closer. Her tongue works relentlessly against you as she laps up all of you. Breathy moans and pleas escaped your lipstick-stained lips. You didn’t even know what you were begging for anymore.  You just wanted her. 
Her nose bounces against your clit as you jut your hips against her mouth. She sinfully presses a finger inside you. She pumps it a few times before adding another one. Her pace is tortuous, and you throw your head against the mattress. 
She circles her tongue around your clit as her pace increases, curling her fingers inside you. She slides her hand onto your stomach and you grip it, holding onto her like your life depends on it. 
“Feels so good, mommy,” you whine as look down at her. All you can see is her hair spread out across your thighs and her one gloved hand clutching your own. Wanda moans at the pet name and she ruts her fingers inside you. 
A high-pitched whine leaves you as your orgasm rips through you. Your thighs go to close around Wanda’s head but scarlet tendrils keep you in place. You clench around her fingers, and static rings in your ears. You squeeze your eyes shut and a vision flashes beneath your lids. 
You’re standing on a battlefield. The sun is blazing above you and you’re locked in battle with a monstrous creature. Gigantic wheels tore up the ground and anything in their way as they sped toward you. You finally land a killing blow to the creature, but you don’t have enough time to run. You crouch down, praying to whatever deity that you’ll survive this. The hurtling of the blade stops and you breathe out a sigh of relief as Wanda lands on the battlefield. Scarlet pulses of magic lift up the wheels and Wanda hurls them at a line of incoming enemies. 
You straightened and beamed, pointing at Wanda. “That’s my wife!”
You blink rapidly, as Wanda rubs a soothing hand over your thigh, bringing you back to reality. You attempt to steady your breathing. 
Your release pools over her fingers as she pulls out of you. She brings them to your lips, making you taste yourself. Your arousal covers the lower half of her face, and your cheeks heat up the sight. 
“You did so good for me, sweet thing,” she says as she runs a hand over your hair and cups your cheek. You press a kiss to her palm. 
She waves a hand, bringing the two of you a towel from the bathroom. You lean on your elbows as she cleans you up, a warm, gooey feeling filling your chest. She levitates the towel to the hamper and kisses your cheek softly. 
“Is this real?” you sigh dreamily as she pulls away. Doubt dances in the back of your mind as your vision gnaws at you. 
She freezes above you, eyes scanning your face for something. She stands and moves to grab your clothes off the floor. 
“It’s as real as you want it to be,” she answers as she returns to your side, a soft look dancing across her features. 
You remain puzzled as Wanda helps you dress. If she saw your vision, she hasn’t said anything. The thought unsettles you. Where were you and who were those people you were with? Why were you fighting? And with that the static returns and you screw your eyes shut. 
You blink furiously and the next thing you know, you’re walking through the neighborhood hand in hand with Wanda. Pietro and the boys are running and collecting as much candy as they can. A calmness settles over you. Maybe you were right where you were supposed to be.
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d6volution · 1 year ago
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IDEA FOR CAINE. so you knnow how pomni tought she was in dream? ok so what if we enter the digital circus and thnks its a dream to? where wes tart to do what ever becuase "oh its just a dream" and do it with caine to prove its not but soon later figure that you had actually fucked the ring master and now you have to live with that untill you abstarct. also, i love you...................re writing alot
thank........... you <33
hopefully this is okay! i accidentally made Caine a little mean at the end oops, poor reader.
Caine/Fem!Reader.
nsfw themes. | artwork.
minors dni.
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You've been staring at the ceiling all night. Everyone was right.. you don't need to sleep. You don't even feel the urge, it was so.. strange. Unsettling.. it was making your mind feel like an endless void when you thought about it a bit too hard.
You closed your eyes and sighed before hopping out of bed and taking to the halls instead. You needed a walk, get your body moving to distract your mind just a little.
Which did little to help, in fact you were back tracking to your first theory.. surely this all had to just be a dream, you just had to figure out how to wake yourself up. yes that's it! a small sliver of hope.
"Hmm.." You pondered out loud, walking down the long corridor of rooms. Everyone else must be sleep or.. just relaxing their eyes more like. "Caine.. maybe if I.." you were muttering to yourself, walking back and fourth as if you were in some kind of trance.
Little did you know Caine was already watching, one of his eyes were tucked away in the corners of all the large open spaces , including the corridors. He was only half paying attention until you started—
"[Censor] [Censor] [CENSOR!]" Began screaming out every curse word and you would keep doing so until Caine showed up. Which, like clockwork he did.
"Now, now what's all this, y/n!? you'll wake up the others! Not to mention the potty mouth you have! Haven't we been over this already?" Caine said in a cheerful yet assertive tone, staring at you with his hands planted on his hips and waiting for your response.
But you didn't give him one , instead you reached up and gripped his suit collar and yanked him down, planting a kiss onto his jaw just to test the waters. He scrambled and pulled back, "W.. Woah now! What's gotten into your my dear!? You haven't even taken me on a first date yet!" He teased and continued to ramble about how inappropriate and unlike you that was.
Seduce the ringmaster... make him break his own rules, boom. Maybe.. the dream will backfire on itself so bad that you'll wake up?
Or maybe this entire idea was stupid and you're insane!
You shoved that little voice to the back of your head. You had to try something, the whole prospect of being trapped here in the first place was insane!
"A date..? Caine, you've been trapped here for ..well ever! ... Surely you want.. more than just a silly date!" You huffed, and tried to get closer to him but he was keeping his distance. Weary of your actions.
He tugged at his collar as if to fan himself, seemingly a bit tempted by your words, "W—Well , be that as it may, here at the digital circus we have to keep it family friendly we're to be enjoyed by all ages my dear!" He said and twirled his baton a few times within his gloved fingers.
"I know.. but, isn't there somewhere around here we can have a little.. privacy, Caine..~ Just the two of us? I promise no one else will see!"
Caine didn't say anything, he simply cleared his throat and took you by the waist and teleported you both to his quarters. It was grand and a little silly. A red and black theme that matched his outfit, and decor befitting for someone like him.
Caine sat at the edge of his bed and patted his lap.
Oh, god you were really doing this.. was it really this easy??
He tugged you onto his lap, and now you were flushed. But.. he didn't make a move to touch you at all.
"Now my precious , y/n we can start our date! We must take things slow to set a good example!" He said excitedly and flipped on the small tv in front of you both.
Oh we was serious. This.. this wouldn't do... it'd take too long.
You tuned out the television and Caine seemed to just tap his hand on your hip as he laughed at the corny jokes on the tv.
Just then a light bulb went off in your head and you shuffled a little in his lap, ass brushing and grinding against his crotch. You felt him stiffen and try to adjust a little.
"Something wrong?" You said oh so innocently.
"O-Of course not dear! I do hope you're enjoying the show! Bonding is very important for relationships!" He said , seemingly unphased but the sudden hardness poking against your ass was telling you everything you needed to know.
"I agree.. bonding is very important." You said in a low voice while squriming on his lap again, and his hand suddenly gripped your hip. Keeping you still.
"Ahem, heh, I think its best if you keep still dear! Don't want any.. accidents!"
He laughed, albeit nervously.
You took this chance and to turn around on his lap so you were facing him and shoved him onto the mattress. You were straddling him and keeping your palms flat on his chest as you grinded against his clothed erection, "That doesn't feel so family friendly in between your legs Caine.. just loosen up a little.~" You cringed hearing yourself trying to sound sexy but it seemed to be working. He was stuttering and making excuses but didn't push you away. In fact you could feel him twitching beneath you.
Fuck, you were getting more turned on that you thought you would.. when would this dream end..?
You were going to pull back, feeling as if this wasn't working but then you felt two large gloved hands on your ass tugging you back towards him.
"C.. Caine..?"
"Well, it seems I've just thought of way to keep this family friendly and satiate your.. more carnal desires dear! I didn't think you'd be so bold and I must say I'm impressed!"
"W—Well, I just.. I didn't think you'd actually—" You fumbled over your words and Caine took his chance to flip you onto your stomach, snapping his fingers and you were completely naked.
"C.. Caine!? What happened to taking it slow??" You said trying to cover yourself but he made sure you stayed on your stomach , his baton planted on your lower back with a bit of pressure.
"Ubupbup! None of that Y/N," He interrupted and tapped your inner thighs with his baton. Silently signaling you to open your legs and slowly you did, nuzzling the blankets in embarrassment.
"Tsk, tsk, just as I thought! You're making an absolute mess!" He shoke his head in disappointment. Making a spectacle out of your arousal.
"W.. What are you going to do..?" You whined and glanced back at him , his erection straining against his black pants quite clearly.
"Well, I'm going to give you a lesson in sexual education of course! Maybe then you'll believe this isn't a dream."
Your lips cracked into a unsettling smile, realizing the position you were in and.. well you were fucked, literally and figuratively now.
"Oh, don't give me that look dear, where did all that vigor go!?" A silly sound effect followed his teasing words,  "I assure you you'll feel just fine by the time I'm done with you!~ Or... you'll abstract and I'll have to throw you into the cellar with the rest of them! Either way, I have a lesson to get on with!" He said while planting himself behind you , gloved hands gripping your hips.
"Keep still, will you?"
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constantlybrainrotting · 3 months ago
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Arcane Competitive Dance AU
i dont think you realize that i CRAVE comp. dance au's down to the bone as a former comp. dancer so HERE IS MY BRAIN CHILD!!!
we start off pretty basic, with the City of Greater Piltover essentially split into two main area, New Piltover and Zaun. within the two main areas lies two dance studios, both well known and well loved in their respective communities. for the amount of time the studios have been open, the have had a sort of "rivalry" within it's leaders (dw the kids are mostly chill with eachother). this brings us to the main bones of the au!!
Zaun Dance Movement (ZDC)
run by co-owners and partners Vander and Silco Lane-Shimmerson
they do a lot of community work within Zaun since it's mostly lower class
they are known for their insane Hip Hop routines that are highly inspired by Zaunite break-dancing as well as their acro routines
they offer an affordability fund program for people who are interested in dance but the cost can be too high for the household
for the recreational program they offer the general classes such as ballet, jazz, tap, hip hop, acro, musical theatre and open, as well as holding classes for adults, low-impact for the elderly, and adaptive movement for anyone with a mental or physical ability
they are known for being a family friendly and community based studio
has a KILLER fundraising team omg like genuinely so good they raise so much for comp season
Piltover Dance Corps (PDC)
founded by Cecil Himerdinger (trust me on this guys-)
owned currently by Cassandra Kiramman
they take a more intense look at dance, while still being family forward
"rich kid" studio
they put on a showing of the nutcracker every holiday season to raise funds for comp season
also has an affordability fund that's pretty good tbh
it definitely helps that Cass Kiramman is RICH so she puts a good amount of funds into it herself
they have a pianist come in for their ballet/pointe classes (just a fun fact tbh)
a good amount of their students go on to go professional later in life
known for their downright gorgeous ballet and tap programs
Overall facts I've put together!
contemp is NOT the shit you see on tv, it's what it originally was, the successor to the modern style idc what anyone says (please get rid of tv contemp y'all its legit lyrical you are doing lyrical-)
most if not all the main characters are in fact children/teens in this AU to have it make more sense just generally
vi is a hip hop/contemp girly ok
jinx is powders nickname/stage name and she is 100% a acro/musical theatre kid and you can pry that from my cold dead hands
ekko is a hip hop kid (as if you couldn't already see that coming lmao)
caitlyn is a lyrical/pointe girly bc you can't convince me she wouldn't LOVE the insane precision it takes seeing as she fucks with guns
jayce is a tap/hip hop boy bc i think he would adore the click clacks of tap shoes
mel is a lyrical/contemp to no ones suprise
dw guys viktor is in fact here hes just nerding out in the corner
he was dragged into the lane-shimmerson family ok
he's vi, claggor, milo and jinx's very supportive older brother who attends the adaptive movement class so he can give his siblings shit on their choreo
he is also the loudest mf in the audience (speaking from experience here 😅
sevika was also kicking and screaming and attempted to crawl her ass out of the fam dynamic and did NOT survive
love me some begrudging auntie sevika lmaooo
smeech is ZDM's tap teacher and him and jinx have BEEF
they are duking it out weekly frfr
vander and cassandra are chill owner to owner but cass and silco? they are each others biggest opp honestly
secret dating caitvi but they are only hiding it from silco and cassandra
jinx takes on isha as her adopted mini and its so cute
vi and deckard is a one sided rivalry with deckard thinking of vi as his rival and vi dgaf about this guy
we also get some good ole jaymelvik dating and timebomb crushing
please let me know if anyone wants more but this is like the bare bones of it lmaoooo
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evenmyhivemindisempty · 3 months ago
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What are Boyd's characters dream holiday destination?
Steve Murphy: Myrtle beach! It’s the ideal budget golf trip - there’s tons of great courses nearby, plus he can relax at the beach once he’s had his daily fill of driving himself insane trying to perfect his swing! I bet Steve’s dream vacation is a solo one - he just wants to chill by himself with some cocktails and trade stressing about work for stressing about his short game.
Donald Pierce: Madrid! It’s warm and pretty and it’s got excellent seafood! There’s tons to do, beautiful landmarks to see, sangria to get drunk on, and it’s damn romantic with a date! He’d absolutely get into watching bullfighting too. Pierce doesn’t really wanna go to a country where he doesn’t speak the language, but I do think he’s got enough familiarity with Spanish to get by.
Cap Hatfield: Aw, Cap would be so into Iceland: soaking in the hot springs, hiking along the elf trails, and especially seeing the northern lights. He bundles up with a thermos of hot chocolate and gazes in awe!!
Clement Mansell: He’d absolutely choose New Orleans! It’s the birthplace of jazz, but it’s also got a great hip-hop, rock & roll, and metal scene! Clement would have a great time enjoying the music, the food (although he’s picky about his gumbo!), and the drinking.
The Corinthian: Oh, Vegas for sure. It’s glitzy and gorgeously tacky, and it’s got surprisingly excellent food. He can play it as high class or as trashy as he wants, and on the same night too! He loves exploring all the excess the strip has to offer, having the best meals, picking up boys at clubs, and then killing them!
Eli Klaber: Calistoga in California wine country! I don’t think Klaber would want to leave the country, but he does want to feel pampered and luxurious. He’d adore staying at an all-inclusive spa resort; he’d get to travel around the area on wine tours, and then come back for a mud bath or a hot stones massage.
Ty Shaw: Ooh Ty would go for a Caribbean cruise. Either a family friendly one if he goes with the whole Shaw clan, or one of the singles sex cruises if he’s alone. Either way, he’s gaining 10lbs from shrimp and coming back with an STI. He’s having the best fucking time, and taking so many pictures. He likes the stuff on the ship as much as the places they stop at, too.
Quinn McKenna: You know? Weirdly, I bet it’s Kyoto. I think he’d find it really peaceful, hiking through the forests, exploring the temples and shrines, and you can’t convince me Quinn isn’t obsessed with sushi! Also, high-key I think he’d love a place where almost nobody speaks English - no chitchat!
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stupidspidey · 11 months ago
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DRAKE VS KENDRICK LAMAR
(Hey! here’s all of the songs i referenced that i cns actually add here! Plewse note i literally forgot to cover *meet the grahams*, but, fuck it, whatever.)
With the recent ongoing war between Kendrick Lamar and Drake, i feel like as someone with way too much time on their hands and nothing else going on for the day, what better than to write a cohesive timeline of literally *everything* that’s happened? And i don’t mean from **First Person Shooter**, i mean from **good kid, m.A.A.d city** type everything. Yeah, the Drake stuff isn’t exactly as recent as it may appear. Saying as theres no more ‘intro’ for me to give, here i go.
***Buried Alive Interlude (ft. Kendrick Lamar) - Take Care (2011)***
This was the beginning of the relationship between Drake and Kendrick, both of them considering eachother peers in the industry, despite being in such different lanes. (Lamar conceptual, and Drake more mainstream.), In an interview Lamar describes Drake as “A good guy.” (paraphased), regardless, things seemed alright for the two, the only real “beef” being their opposing views on how they views on their wealth and fame, Lamar keeping personal details quiet, while Drake frequently posts his lavish life to his thousands of followers.
***Poetic Justice (ft. Drake) - good kid, m.A.A.d city (2012)***
To say the two artists were always in some sort of feud would be wrong. On Kendrick’s debut album later rap classic, ***’good kid, m.A.A.d city’***, we see a feature from Drake on the track Poetic Justice. A few things of note though, is that this time period shows us a good natured relationship between Drake and Kendrick, even Drake going as far to say that *“GKMC was the last great concept album.”,* though there was definitely tensions between the two, as Drake’s refusal to work with Kendrick again began after the lyric **”I’m usually homeboys with the same n——s i’m rhymin’ with, but this is hip-hop and them n——s should know what time it is. And that goes for J.Cole, Big KRIT, Wale, Pusha T, Meek Mills A$AP Rocky, Drake, Big Sean, Jay Electron, Tyler and Mac Miller, I got love for you all, but i’m tryna slaughter you n——s.”**
Drake took an offence to this, and spited a refusal to work with Kendrick over it, seeing it as a diss, though nowadays most view this as friendly competition from Lamar. After the fact of Drake’s refusal though, Lamar did go back on another song to say **”Yeah, and nothings been the same since they dropped Control. Tucked a sensitive rapper back into his pyjama clothes.”**, this line being aimed at Drake, and actually being considered the starting point between the two’s feud, having Drake in interviews act nonchalantly and saying he isn’t “taking the bait”, he was the only rapper to have taken offence to Lamar’s initial lyric. Some also found Drake’s initial compliments to *GKMC* offensive, as the term “concept album” usually gives the idea that everything on the album is a story, or ‘made up’, implying that Drake believes Kendrick’s story in Compton was fiction, though i find that to be a bit of a stretch personally. Some people also found it as a fairly backhanded compliment because of this.
***Control (ft. Kendrick Lamar) - Big Sean***
I mentioned earlier about how this song sparked the real aggression between the two artists, and that statement still stands. Coming off of tour alongside Drake and A$AP Rocky, we saw Lamar feature on this song alongside Big Sean, in which he aims not just for Drake, but the rap industry as a whole. To repeat the lyric from earlier, **”**I’m usually homeboys with the same n——s i’m rhymin’ with, but this is hip-hop and them n——s should know what time it is. And that goes for J.Cole, Big KRIT, Wale, Pusha T, Meek Mills A$AP Rocky, Drake, Big Sean, Jay Electron, Tyler and Mac Miller, I got love for you all, but i’m tryna slaughter you n——s.”** This lead the press to obviously inquire Drake on his thoughts on this, to which he responded: *”I didn’t really have anything to say about it. It just sounded like an ambitious thought to me. That’s all it was. I know good and well that [Lamar] ‘s not murdering me, at all, in any platform. So when that day presents itself, I guess we can revisit the topic.”* This quote came with the claims that Lamar’s ‘dream’ of murdering him (metaphorically) was simply a fantasy, and that he simply couldn’t live up to what Drake had established. In other words, Drake believes his star power keeps him away from the threats Lamar proceeds.
***King Kunta - To Pimp a Butterfly/100 - The Game***
In these tracks, Drake begins to show a response to Lamar’s claims. In *King Kunta*, from Kendrick’s sequel album **To Pimp a Butterfly**, now widely considered one of the most influential albums in rap, Lamar pens **“I can dig rapping! But a rapper with a ghostwriter? What the fuck happened?”** this lyric is aimed at allegations that some of Drake’s music is written by a team, rather than himself—— more commonly referred to as ‘ghostwriting’, I haven’t heard much about this, but i do believe the lyric **”I got a bone to pick! I don’t want these monkey-mouthed motherfuckers sitting in my throne again!”** could be a potential dig at not just Drake, but the industry as a whole— something Lamar has done a few times as we’ve covered. Either in coincidence or response, Drake released a jab at Lamar around the same time, penning **”I would have all your fans if i didn’t go pop and stayed down on some conscious shit.”** these two lyrics are really the last time in the 2010’s we hear of the beef between Drake and Kendrick up until the recent events, with both of them seemingly simmering, nothing is really said as far as i’m aware between this point and the next.
***First Person Shooter (ft. J.Cole) - FOR ALL THE DOGS (2023)***
Oh J.Cole. you poor, poor man.
*First Person Shooter*, one of the lead singles for Drake’s album ***FOR ALL THE DOGS***, is with no doubt a victory lap for Drake and his colleague Jermaine Cole (more frequently, J.Cole). On the track, Cole pens **”People argue who’s the hardest MC, is it K.Dot, is it Aubrey or me? We the big three like we started a league, but right now i feel like Mohammed Ali.”** Now to most, this would come off as a compliment, with Cole stating that the big three of rap is him, Kendrick Lamar and Drake, though a few people saw this as fairly backhanded, seeing the following Mohammed Ali comment along with the fact that Drake was also on the song to be placing Lamar in third, implying that Cole believes those two usurp Kendrick, putting him in the top 3 out of pity in a sense. This is what set the current ball in motion, and more importantly, set off Metro Boomin and Future. (Well, not really, but the next instalment happens to come from their album ***We Don’t Trust You*,** so…)
***Like That (ft. Kendrick Lamar) - We Don’t Trust You (Metro Boomin and Future) (2024)***
This is where the games begin. Lamar is featured as a surprise feature on Future and Metro Boomin’s collaboration album, **We Don’t Trust You**. In this surprise however, Lamar comes in full force. Penning **”They think i won’t drop the location, i still got PTSD, motherfuck the big three, n——a it’s just big ME! (n——a bum!)”**, being the most iconic of the shots thrown from Lamar, as for after Kendrick continues to call Drake and Cole ���bums’. It’s obvious that this is aimed at the two, as Kendrick starts his verse with **”Fuck sneak dissing, First Person Shooter? i hope they came with three switches, i crash out like ‘FUCK RAP!’ diss Melly Mells if i have to, got 2 tees with me, i’m snatching chains and burning tattoos.”** This is, of course, the beginning of what i like to call “the war” between Drake and Kendrick (and J.Cole, who immediately backs out, respect to him though, shit gets crazy.), for the first few weeks, neither artists really respond to these lyrics, up until J.Cole.
***7 Minute Drill - MIGHT DELETE LATER (J.Cole) 2024***
This is where the responses come in. J.Cole fires back at Lamar after a few weeks of seemingly nothing from the two aimed at in FPS, on this track, Cole aims singularly for Lamar, using a multitude of lyrics and phrases to insult him. This isn’t actually the first time Lamar and Cole have been in a sort of “battle”, though with the brotherly bond between the two, it’s been seemingly in good hearted nature. On the track, Cole raps **”He’s averaging one hard verse like, every 30 months or somethin’.”** in reference to the large release windows between Kendrick’s albums, GKMC, TPAB, DAMN. and Mr Morale. Following this, he states that **”If he wasn’t dissing, then we wouldn’t be discussing him.”** Implying that if he hadn’t been aiming for the two, nobody would be discussing Kendrick Lamar at all. This most likely comes from the radio silence from Kendrick since Mr. Morale outside of surprise features like **America has a Problem.** Cole also claims that he’s **”Front of the line, with a comfortable lead, how ironic, soon as i got it, now he wants something with me.**” Telling us that Cole’s belief is Lamar’s aiming is out of jealousy or envy, rather than the usual friendly competition between the two. In a more extended line proceeding this, he pens **”Your first shit? A classic. Your last shit was tragic. Your second shit put n——s to sleep but the gassed it. Your third shit was massive, and THAT was your prime, i was trailing right behind, and i just now hit mine.”** Each line in this lyric is directed to a different Kendrick Lamar album. His first shit (***good kid, m.A.A.d city***) is considered a classic in the rap genre, and is considered by some to be Lamar’s best album. His last shit (**Mr. Morale and the Big Steppers**) is taken in a completely different direction than most of Lamar’s previous work, this leads it to be more negatively reviewed among the rest of his works. His second shit (**To Pimp a Butterfly***)* Is the follow-up album to GKMC, showing us the first instance of Lamar’s social commentary (though, present in GKMC), this making Cole claim it as putting people to sleep, as it was too introspective and political (This line is heavily disagreed with, as most people perceive TPAB as the best rap album of all time.) His third shit (***DAMN.***) is considered by most to be Kendrick’s prime, and also the peak of his fame. Featuring artists like Rhianna and with hit classics like DNA. and HUMBLE., the album is considered some of Lamar’s most iconic work to date. After the release of ***7 Minute Drill***, J.Cole immediately backed out and apologised, stating “Do y’all love Kendrick Lamar? Cause so do i.” And basically apologising to him. To this day it’s unknown wether or not this was out of either respect or fear for Lamar, though we do know that ScHoolboy Q, a colleague of Cole’s, told him to simply not get involved, as he knew it was more of a thing between Kendrick and Drake.
***Push Ups (Drop and Give Me 50) - Drake (2024)***
This transitions is smoothly into where we really are today, the consistent stream of tracks between Drake and Kendrick that seemingly antagonise eachother to no end. We begin with **Push Ups**, a track where Drake goes not just for Kendrick, but for everyone involved with ***We Don’t Trust You***. Drake starts the track with **”Drop, drop, drop, drop…”**, a seeming triple entendre to a multitude of things relating to Kendrick. First off, some interpret this as Drake telling Lamar to “drop” something, either being a response to him, or just solo music in general. Another interpretation follows the idea that he is telling Kendrick to “drop and give him 50%”, as it’s suspected that Lamar’s label takes a 50% cut of whatever he releases. A third (and less interesting) interpretation is that it’s in reference to Lamar’s frequenting of the parks to do his exercise routines, namely doing 50 pushups. following this we hear **”I could never be nobodies number one fan, your first number one, i had to put that in your hands.”**, Implying Drake believes Kendrick’s fame comes from his features on Drake’s album ***Take Care***, and Drake’s features on ***Poetic Justice*** (both covered earlier.), following this, we get **”How the fuck you big-stepping with a size seven men’s on?”**, this is both a reference to Lamar’s album ***Mr. Morale and the Big Steppers***, and also Lamar’s height, being 5’5. Later on, we get **”Maroon 5 need a verse, you better make it witty. Then we need a verse for the Swifties, Top says drop, you better drop and give em 50!”**, this is in reference to how Kendrick has previously featured on songs for both Maroon 5 (***Don’t Wanna Know**)* and Taylor Swift (***Bad Blood***), Drake uses this almost in mocking. The “drop and give me 50” line is repeated through the song. Following this is **”Its like your label, boy, you’re in the scope right now. And you’re gonna feel the aftermath of what i write down.”**, this references both of the labels Lamar has been signed to, Interscope Records and Aftermath Records. To cap off what i’m gonna cover for this song (lest i be here for hours), Drake pens **”Pipsqueak, pipe down. You ain’t in no big three, SZA got you wiped down, Savage got you wiped down, Travis got you wiped down—“**, this line tells us seemingly whay Drake *a*ctually believes to be the big three, unlike what Cole claimed on First Person Shooter, this also seemingly a jab at Cole aswell, as Drake seems to ‘remove’ him from the big three. He later also says **”I don’t care what Cole think, that Dot shit was weak as fuck.”** seemingly solidifying this line of thought. Drake is now out for both Kendrick and Cole.
***Taylor Made Freestyle - Drake (2023)***
This song seemingly stems from Drake’s impatience for Lamar to respond. (something he’d largely backtrack on later), To give some context to the title, the real beef between the two began during the release of Taylor Swift’s album ***The Tortured Poets Department***, because of this, Drake accuses Lamar of being “scared” to drop within this timeframe, in fear of being overshadowed. Unfortunately, in this song Drake begins by targeting one of Kendrick’s idols, Tupac, through the use of his AI Generated voice, a move that would wildly lose Drake the public vote. I’m not going to cover the stuff that’s used from the AI Snoop Dogg or Tupac primarily because (and trying to remain as completely unbiased as possible), Drake is a massive bitch for using them. Anyway, onto the first line of note: **”But now we gotta wait a fuckin’ week cause Taylor Swift is your new Top, And if you boutta drop then she has to approve.”**, this comes again from Drake’s belief that Kendrick is scared of dropping out of fear of being overshadowed, stating it as if Taylor ‘owns’ Kendrick. If i’m being completely honest, that’s literally all i can say about this track, pretty much every line aimed at Kendrick can be summed up to that exact definition, so i’ll move on the the next track.
***euphoria - Kendrick Lamar (2024)***
This is where Kendrick begins his involvement, by not just dropping his response, but by dropping two in one day, **euphoria** and **6:16 in LA** (the latter of which i’ll cover next). The track begins with a reversed sample from a remake of ***The Wizard of Oz***, in which a character proclaims **”Everything they say about me is true!”**, this could be interpreted to Kendrick owning up to the title of *”The Boogeyman”* some have given him in previous beefs. Following up this, Lamar begins the track with a slow, melodic beat, as he softly rhymes over the top of it. He pens **”You’re moving just like a degenerate, every antic is feeling distasteful.”** in reference to Drake’s use of AI voices on ***Taylor Made Freestyle***. After this, we receive a beat switch in which Lamar begins to ‘battle-rap’. We begin with **”Have you ever paid five hundered thou’ like, to an open case?”** This line is allegedly written in reference to Drake’s sexual assault allegations from Instagram model *Laquana Morris*, in which he paid $350k in settlement. Though this could also be in reference to Lamar’s 2017 lawsuit in which LOYALTY. was accused of plagiarism by *Terrance Hayes*, a case that was later dismissed and dropped with little to no explanation. Later, Lamar pens **”Id rather do that than let a Canadian n——a make Pac roll in his grave.”**, Another reference to Drake’s previous usage of Tupac’s AI voice, and more notably, Kendrick’s desire to defend Tupac’s legacy from that sort of usage. **”What is it, the braids? Oh you dont wanna work with me no more? Okay.”** Is in reference to how Drake’s haircut (twisted braids) has him thinking wrong to go against him. The following comment about not working with him is in reference to Kendrick’s comments on **Control**, aimed at Drake, and his reaction to no longer wanting to work with Lamar. **”Its three GOATs left, and i see two of em hugging and kissing on stage.”** Is in reference to ***It’s All A Blur Tour***, in which J. Cole and Drake headlined together, a photo commonly shared of the two of them hugging on stage. **”Yeah, fuck all that pushing P, let me see you Pusha T!”** Is in reference to Drake’s previous beef with Pusha T, in which he revealed that Drake had a son, Adonis. This later removed all responses from Drake, making people consider Pusha T the winner. There’s a LOT more lyrics in this song, but i’m gonna cut it primarily for actually making space for the rest of this stuff.
***6:16 in LA - Kendrick Lamar (2024)***
In a surprising move from Kendrick, he released two songs in a row, this one more personally aimed at not just Drake and everyone he’s associated with, but Drake himself. With this track there aren’t many lyrics i actually want to select and really explain like i have in previous sections so i’d be better off more or less explaining how tensions were in the release of this track. People were no short of surprised to see Lamar drop such a substantial amount of tracks in one day, making most people seemingly ‘switch sides’ from Drake, while most others applied the argument that “most had decided their winner before their battle even started.”, however this song is the prelude before we really get Kendrick to delve into Drake’s allegations, and more impressively, straight up call him a p*dophile.
***Family Matters - Drake (2024)***
After a day or two of waiting with bated breath, Drake finally responded to Lamar’s tracks with a return to burn Kendrick. The song begins with a reused sample of **Push-Ups**, almost making the song seem to be a sequel to that, Drake begins by proclaiming that **”Cole losing sleep over this, that ain’t me.”**, in reference to Cole’s exiting from the battle. However a lyric following this further landed Drake into a negative public opinion, as he raps **”Always rappin’ like you’re tryna get the slaves freed.”**, seemingly dissmissing to the work Kendrick’s done for knowledge on Black History, as well as mocking Lamar’s general influence and introspective style of rap. Later, Drake finally fires back with allegations that Kendrick is abusive toward his wife, with the line **”Ay, let that shawty breathe.”**, allowing the listener to interpret that Lamar may be involved in abusing his wife, Whitney. (Though, this was later seemingly disproved by a tweet from Whitney’s brother showing support toward Kendrick.) Drake then raps **”Shake that ass for Drake, and shake that ass for free.”**, implying both that Whitney is disloyal to Kendrick, and that Drake supposedly wants this to be a song people dance to in clubs via twerking or something, this later backfired as Lamar’s next track, ***Not Like Us***, actually ended up being played in a multitude of clubs and raves upon release. Drake later raps **”good kid, m.A.A.d city van, we’ll pop the latch and let the door slide.”**, seemingly in reference to a drive-by in Kendrick’s Compton days, as in the album the Van is used as a symbol of protection from the violence in the world outside. Drake is proclaiming he will destroy Kendrick’s only sense of protection. In Part III of the song, Drake begins by rapping **”Kendrick just opened his mouth, someone go hand him a Grammy right now.”**, seemingly believing that all of Lamar’s Grammys are given based off of popularity over talent, though Drake follows this with **”Where is your uncle at? Cause i wanna talk to the man of the house.”,** this is in reference to the **Mr Morale and the Big Steppers** track **Auntie Diaries**, in which Kendrick tells the story of his Auntie transitioning into his Uncle. The bar basically mocks Kendrick for being less masculine than a trans person, sort of transphobic to me but, yknow. From here it’s just more lyrics about the allegations of Kendrick’s abuse of his wife, bringing us onto **Not Like Us**.
***Not Like Us - Kendrick Lamar (2024)***
This track is the pinpoint for when we go from ***To Pimp a Butterfly*** to ***To Catch a Predator***. In this track, Kendrick fully goes in on Drake’s sexual abuse and pedophilia allegations, exposing a major amount of Drake’s argument. The first influential lyric on this track is **”Say, Drake, I hear you like em’ young.”**, again in reference to these allegations, now, to get this out of the way now, i’m gonna say the same for **”Certified Lover Boy? Certified Pedophile!”** and **”Tryna stroke a chord, and it’s probably A-Minor!”**, the first of which being a reference to Drake’s album **Certified Lover Boy**, and the second referencing the guitar chord A-Minor, entendres with “a minor” (Holy shit, man.) **”Certified Boogeyman, i’m the one who upped the score with em’.”** Is in reference to the **Halloween** character *Micheal Myers*, and more importantly his intimidating presence, that of which Kendrick implies he also brings in his opponents, the usage of ‘certified’ could also be another reference to **Certified Lover Boy**., and with all that covered, that’s pretty much all that comes from this track and, honestly, the beef in general.
***THE HEART PART 6 - Drake (2024)***
To remain as unbiased as possible, this is where things get downright embarrassing, and honestly, what solidifies Kendrick Lamar’s win. For starters, the track title itself is in reference to Lamar’s **The Heart** series, which is typically used to debut a new album, like **DAMN.** and **Mr Morale and the Big Steppers.** This is actually a joke that was frequently used on Twitter beforehand, as well see with the rest of this track, most of Drake’s research comes less from his peers and more from Twitter, the track itself actually is an attempt to mock Kendrick Lamar’s sexual assault, something of which we learn, actually never happened. Drake raps **”Mother i— Mother i— That’s the one record where you say you got molested.”**, despite him saying this, **Mother I** is Kendrick talking about how his cousin didn’t molest him, but none of his family believed him, in other words, Drake completely misses the point. Before this Drake raps **”This Epstein angle is the shit i expected.”** When, in prior songs, nobody has mentioned Jeffrey Epstien. He also raps **”I only fuck with Whitneys, not no Millie Bobbie Browns.”** in reference to his allegations in messaging *Stranger Things* star Millie Bobbie Brown, despite being 17 years older than her. Yet again, Kendrick had never mentioned this beforehand.
***MR. MORALE VS THE 6IX GOD.***
In the end, it comes down to personal opinion on who you really think ‘won’ this sort of thing, it’s a very arguable and personal thing, wether you believe that Kendrick beats his wife, or that Drake is a pedophile, just know either way, when i release this Kendrick Lamar would have released 4 more tracks.
Wish me luck.
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upontherisers · 9 months ago
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a/n: taking a mota break to come back to what brought me here in the first place. google docs told me i started writing this in april 2022. holy shit. en ee way here are my babies babying.
They spent their summers together.
South Bend summers were warm, sunny, full of things to do. The kids terrorized the town while their parents worked and left the eldest children to babysit. They swam, raced, rode bikes, climbed trees, unsuccessfully snuck into the pictures on Jacob Street, and generally did whatever they could to get away from the probing gazes of their older siblings. It was freedom. 
They were attached at the hip from the moment they met. Being the youngest in her family and the third youngest in his, they were assigned the roles of ‘the watched’ rather than ‘the watchers,’ meaning that in those early years, they’d spend their days at her grandmother’s house, chasing the cats and digging holes in the backyard for no reason in particular. As soon as they got old enough to know left from right, they were out of there, slipping away until they were called in for dinner.
By the time they were ten or eleven, they had to start helping out. His two younger brothers had a few more years of running around in them, but Anita and Alex were making money where they could. They’d sweep outside of stores, collect bottles, and make deliveries, taking whatever work and whatever shifts they could find, as long as they were together. They never accepted a job that required one without the other, because they didn’t see the point in that. Whatever they did, they’d do together.
Despite having eighteen siblings between the two of them, they found themselves alone together more often than not. They preferred it that way. Sure, they’d join a streetball game or go out with their families for a picnic if they were asked, but if it was up to them, it'd only be them until they were sick of each other, and they hardly ever were. 
“Anita and Alex” and “Alex and Anita”, always two and never one. Their names a single word.
They weren’t much alike in personality. Anita was outgoing with a loud laugh, friendly, a talker. The youngest of seven girls, constantly spoken over in her house, but she had a lot to say. She had ideas and opinions on how she thought the world should work, how everything would be better if ‘everybody just got along’, and he was her quiet sounding board. He didn’t have much to say, much more a doer than a thinker, but that worked between them.
“I talk so much because he doesn’t say nothin’,” she’d joke. “I gotta say everything for him.”
In their private time, they didn’t speak much. They didn’t have to. After years of getting up to mischief at Granny Matthews' house, they learned to communicate without sound at all. The occasional hand gesture, a raised eyebrow, maybe a scoff, and that’s all they needed. 
The last time they saw each other, they were thirteen. They hadn’t known it’d be their last summer together, and they spent it side-by-side like any other. Alex was hitting a growth spurt and Anita’s body was changing, and teenage hormones certainly played a part in more than a few awkward laughs and silences that summer. But it was good, it was still good. It would always be good if they were together.
They seemed to understand that the summers were all they had together, so they had to make them count. They’d talk about whatever they could think of, share every meal and every bike ride. They’d take everything the other person missed out on in the nine months they were apart and try to fill them in as best they could.
It didn’t have to be as fun as it was, or as easy.
Black Tuesday had changed both their lives for the worse. Alex’s mom died the next year, leaving his eldest sister to start playing mother to twelve siblings. Anita’s three oldest sisters had to drop out of school and start working. The trip from Harvey to South Bend was the most expensive thing her family did all year, saving all of their money to hop on a bus to her grandmother’s house and take advantage of the now-studentless college town.
They could’ve been migrant workers or manual laborers or stuck on some assembly line in Gary, but they and their parents and siblings worked for this. They worked to give themselves something to enjoy.
Their favorite place to be was by the water. The St. Joseph River ran through South Bend, and it was always good for a swim or just for wading. Anita would make sandwiches and Alex would talk Mr. Kowalsky at the grocery store out of some apples, and they’d bike up to Pinhook to eat on the riverbanks where the grass matched the color of Alex’s eyes. 
It was easier out there, with only the occasional person walking by every half hour or so. They were uninterrupted, in a world of their own, paradise, really. 
He was listening to her talk about her end of summer plans, something about joining a NYA program after school, and he was content to watch, laying back on the soft earth with his hands behind his head.
She shined in the sun, yellow rays outlining her hair with a halo like all of those saints he saw at church on Sundays. The light turned her dark skin gold, like good wheat, and she was pretty, wasn’t she? With her black eyelashes that curled and her wide nose and lips the color of ripe plums.
Her eyes met his and she said something, but he was happy to just look at her.
She nudged him with her leg, knocking him out of his daze.
“I said,” she drawled on the vowel, “I think I’m gonna go dancin’ when I get back home. The dance hall’s right down the street and Betty goes with all her friends on Fridays. Whaduya think?”
He’d like to take her dancing, he thought, at the carnival next month. He’d put a flower in her hair and whirl her around in the new cotton dress she kept talking about but wouldn’t let him see. She’d be the most beautiful girl in the room. Anita cleared her throat and he saw her staring at him with eyebrows raised, expecting a response.
“Sounds great,” he stammered out, unsure of why his heart was in his throat. 
She giggled and nudged him again, curling into his side as she laid down next to him. “You’re not even listening to me.”
“I am,” he protested, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “I am.”
That summer came and went and no others started again. Her mom switched jobs, Ruth and Alice both graduated and found work, and they didn’t need to leave Harvey for seasonal jobs any more. Anita missed Alex fiercely, she missed him everyday, but she had to focus on other things. She went to school, worked jobs in the summers, graduated, and joined up as soon as she could.
The paratroopers were looking for women, and they got paid an extra $50 every month to boot.
When she got off the bus at Toccoa, the hot Georgia sun indicating they were surely in hell, the last thing she’d expected was a voice shouting for her.
“Anita? Anita!”
A man was calling her name, and her first name at that, not ‘Private’ or ‘Matthews.’ Anita.
The scene was disorienting, with people barking orders and bags being hurled across her field of vision, but she looked around, trying to find the source of the voice. Everything was washed-out tan and Army green: the barracks, the uniforms, the men after weeks in the sun, and she turned in a circle, still hearing her name but unsure of where it was coming from. She caught a flash of color between girls passing in front of her, and she followed it, meeting river eddy green-gray eyes that sent her back five years and a few hundred miles.
He looked different, taller and broader than the last time she’d seen him, but he was unmistakable. She’d know those eyes anywhere, and those dark brown curls were fighting to be seen even in his short Army haircut. Alex Penkala was right there, staring at her from twenty yards away.
She dropped her bag and launched into a dead sprint before she could stop herself, paying no mind to Lt. O’Shaughnessy barking her name from the steadily forming column of women by the bus. 
In her haste, she knocked into someone, but she kept going, she kept pushing until she was in those arms, shrieking with laughter as Alex picked her up and spun her around. Suddenly, she was thirteen again, and they were dancing at the end-of-summer carnival the South Bend Town Hall put on every year. Except this time, she wasn’t leaving the next day. 
“What are you doing here?” she asked as he set her down, trying to ignore Lt. O’s bellowing getting louder and louder behind her.
“What am I doing here? What are you doing here?” he asked, and she was looking up at him for the first time in their entire lives.
She shrugged and gestured around. “I joined the Army.” 
“I can see that… wait, are you with the girls joining Easy?”
“Easy Company? Yeah!” she exclaimed, reaching to pull her papers out of her bag and cringing when she remembered she dropped it. “I’d show you my papers, but I don’t—”
“Private Matthews!!!” 
“Private Penkala.”
Their lieutenants found them at the same time and they both snapped to attention, meeting each other’s eyes and slipping back into the unspoken language they’d had for so many years. They were both in a heap of trouble, and neither of them could find it in their hearts to care.
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hereticpriest · 1 year ago
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Mercy Chapter 4: Anakin
Rating: Explicit 18+
MDNI
Relationship: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader
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To begin with, some warnings about this story: A/B/O Dynamics, Female Alpha, Male Omega, Some chapters may involve messing with the whole 'alphas are always dom and omegas are always sub' because I think nuance exists even in A/B/O dynamics, Fucking with the timeline (this is a blend of Canon, Legends, and original lore), Minimal use of Y/N (Explained in the first chapter), Reader is an alien species of my own creation and thus has a physical description, Familial bonds explored heavily, Clone rights explored heavily, Violence is more graphic than canon-typical however any graphic descriptions will be noted, AFAB reader, Not beta-read so I apologize for any mistakes.
Chapter warnings: Lots of fluff, discussion of Anakin's mistreatment as a slave, canon-typical violence, mild medical descriptions (I tried to keep it very vague to avoid making anyone uncomfortable), Qui-Gon's actions and their affect on Obi-Wan are discussed, canon divergence goes real hard here. If you think I've missed anything, please do feel free to let me know!
Read on AO3
Masterlist - Part One - Part Two - Part Three
Chapter 4: Anakin
The Halls of Healing begin with an open, peaceful reception area. Large windows provide natural light, filtered in the evening to avoid distractions. Triage lays beyond the reception area, leading into countless private rooms. There is a room with several bacta tanks and a bacta bath, along with tables for massage to relieve the pain of old injuries. Operatories lay towards the back of the Halls, loaded with medical droids to assist the healers. The Halls were mostly led by Healers who hadn’t made it through their own Jedi training, either by choice or because their skillset lay outside of that of the Jedi, however there were several Jedi Knights and Masters who worked in the Halls either part-time or full-time.
The Halls have been home to you for many years, and you enjoy the peace, interspersed with bouts of excitement. Your commlink beeps sharply, and you answer it with a serene smile on your face. You got to spend your morning doing the younglings first healer visits, and your heart was full from their youthful energy. You were knighted the year prior, passing your trials with little difficulty, and you were excited to take on a Padawan of your own, though you knew you wouldn’t be ready for several years. Nothing could possibly bother you today.
“Mercy, I have a young boy who needs to have a physical.” Obi-Wan’s soft voice chimes over your commlink, and you perk up.
“You always bring me the best gifts, Kenobi. I’m in the Halls. Room 23.” You click off your commlink, attaching it back onto your belt, then head into the pharmacy you’d only just left. Luckily, you hadn’t put away the small basket of vaccinations. As you head back to your room, you open a new chart on your datapad and set it down on the counter. You refresh the bed, pulling the downy-soft blanket you used to comfort younglings from the sterilizer and folding it across the bed. It doesn’t take long before Obi-Wan opens the door to your room, gesturing for a young boy with sandy-blonde hair to go in ahead of him.
“Anakin, this is Mercy. She’s a Jedi Knight, and a Healer.” Obi-Wan introduces you, “Mercy, this is Anakin Skywalker. Master Qui-Gon picked him up on Tatooine.”
You smile kindly, taking in Anakin’s obvious interest in the lightsaber at your hip, and the tail swaying calmly behind you. You pat the top of the bed, “Would you mind hopping up here?”
Anakin does as he’s asked, and Obi-Wan stands in the corner of the room, out of the way to allow you room to work. You go through the basics with Anakin, filling out his chart as best as he can recall. The boy allows you to take a blood draw, eased by the gentle flow of the Force to make it painless, and you find him severely lacking in several nutrients, and even more vaccinations. When you explain in child-friendly terms that he needs a couple of vaccines to keep him safe, he doesn’t protest, though he asks you half a million questions throughout the process. How do you make it painless? How do you heal with the Force? Can all Jedi heal? What does it feel like when you heal someone?
It’s as you’re doing a physical examination to determine the depth of his malnutrition that you feel a hard piece of metal under the boy’s skin, near the back of his neck. You freeze, and Anakin makes eye contact with you briefly, nervous about your reaction. You take a soft breath, crouching in front of Anakin with your hands on his knobby knees.
“Would you like me to take it out?” You ask, and Anakin’s clear blue eyes widen with wonder at the idea.
“Can you do that?” He asks, glancing back at Obi-Wan for confirmation. You nod, and he grasps your arm with his little hand, nodding eagerly, “Please.”
It’s not a particularly difficult procedure, and it's easy enough to heal the wound as quickly as you create it. The slave chip is subsequently destroyed, and you look at Obi-Wan seriously over the boy’s head as you wipe away the tiny drops of blood left over after healing. Your friend looks older, wiser and more serious than he had the last time you saw him. It’s been months. Every time you return home from a mission, he and Qui-Gon have either just headed out on their own, or are leaving shortly after. It didn’t surprise you - Qui-Gon was a sought after Consular, and you were quickly becoming one as well, making your own mark upon the galaxy.
“He needs to see someone. Talk about his feelings.” You say as you pull Obi-Wan to the side while Anakin occupies himself with your datapad.
“Qui-Gon will-”
“Qui-Gon won’t. Neither will the Council. They mean well, but even Qui-Gon in all his rule-breaking wisdom doesn’t deal with his emotions properly. This boy has not been raised among the Jedi - he doesn’t know anything but the world he was raised in. You should’ve told me he was a slave, Obi-Wan. He needs extra care. Stars, I can’t believe - has Qui-Gon told him that he thinks he’s the chosen one? The weight of that on his little shoulders…” You dig your palms into your eye sockets, then take a deep, calming breath.
“He hasn’t yet, though Qui-Gon told him he was going to be a Jedi, against my cautioning. The Council will never allow it.” Obi-Wan explains, his gaze drifting over to where the boy was unscrewing the back cover of your datapad. You notice, but allow it. You’ve got more than one, and Anakin needs the distraction.
“His training is not my concern, Obi, I care only for his well-being. He’s only nine. He shouldn’t be raised with the fate of the galaxy on his shoulders, whether he’s the chosen one or not. He’s just a boy who misses his mother.” You sigh, leaning your shoulder briefly against Obi-Wan’s, then part from him to approach the youngling.
“You’ll be leaving soon, Anakin. Would you mind putting that back together for me, sprout?” You ask gently, and he gives you a smile bright as the sun. You’d felt his flicker of nervousness that you would reprimand him, and his instant relaxation when he realized you weren’t upset. He begins to put the datapad back together, and you smooth his hair back out of his eyes as you pass him to get a couple of nutrient-rich meal bars and shakes from your cupboard. You hand them over to Obi-Wan, who hesitates as he takes them.
“He needs to have either a bar or a shake with every meal. Three meals a day minimum, with at least two healthy snacks. He needs to put some weight on. Tell Qui-Gon that if Anakin hasn’t gained 6 kilograms by his next physical, I will hold him personally accountable.” You insist, hands sternly on your hips. Obi-Wan smiles fondly at you, and you flick your ears with irritation, cheeks hot. You’re torn from your embarrassment by thin arms wrapping around your waist, and your tail curls automatically around Anakin as he hugs you, holding him protectively to ensure he doesn’t fall. You smooth his hair back again, then poke the tip of his nose.
“Be good. Listen to Obi-Wan more than Qui-Gon - he’s the sensible one of the two of them. Unless he’s being boring, in which case you can certainly listen to Qui-Gon instead.” You tease playfully, “I’ll see you soon for a follow-up, sprout.”
Anakin hides a smile at the nickname, moving to Obi-Wan’s side and holding onto the edge of his robes as they leave the Halls of Healing together. You watch them until they’re gone from your sight, then sigh, closing your eyes to lean into the embrace of the Force.
“Take care of them for me.” You whisper into the ether, unaware of the interesting future before you.
~
“He set me aside.”
His hair is too short to run your fingers through properly, but you do your best, gently massaging his scalp. You’re curled up on the settee in the living room of your chambers, Obi-Wan’s head in your lap, his fist clenched in the fabric of your robes. His emotions are warring, but here in the safety of your room, he can allow himself to feel and process them without judgement.
“He said I was ready for the trials. I-I felt ready until he said it. He does not put me forward for the trials because I am ready, but rather, so he can train the boy. The chosen one.”
It’s said bitterly, and halfheartedly. Obi-Wan has slowly been cooling off in your embrace, the gentle weight of your tail curled around his stomach helping to soothe him. Your left hand rests in his hair, your right clasped with his, wrist-to-wrist. You haven’t held him this close since you were children, and it eases an ache in your heart you didn’t even know you had.
“You are ready for the trials, Obi-Wan, however it should have been a decision you made with Qui-Gon, not a decision made without your input. Qui-Gon made a mistake, as all Masters do. I’m sure he will apologize when he realizes the error of his ways.” You murmur, tracing your finger along the shell of his ear. He sighs, rolling over to face you and burying his face in your stomach.
“We leave for Naboo tonight. The Queen means to reclaim her homeworld, and we’ve been instructed to go with her to protect her.” Obi-Wan mumbles into your tummy. You hum, tracing your fingers over his Padawan braid and watching him shiver at the attention. It was surprisingly intimate to touch someone’s Padawan braid, and you expected him to reprimand you, but he only leaned into your touch.
“Would it make you feel better to know that I’ll be joining you to Naboo?” You ask, and you feel Obi-Wan stiffen in your lap, his Force signature bright as a star.
“Truly?” He asks as he sits up, and you laugh softly, nodding.
“I asked my old Master, and he convinced Master Yoda and Master Windu that I would be an asset for my healing ability if nothing else. What would you do if the Queen were injured, after all?” You grin conspiratorially, and Obi-Wan gives a happy sigh, pressing his forehead to yours.
“It’s almost time. I should get ready to go.” Obi-Wan says with a hint of whine to his voice, drawing another chuckle from you.
“Go on, dear. I’ll see you soon.”
You feel him melt against you at the term of endearment, and vow to use it more often if that’s the effect it's going to have.
~
Naboo is a beautiful planet. Green and lush and full of life. You feel full of the Force here, even as the impressive - but in your opinion, far too young - Queen Amidala leads you through the streets of her capital city. Droids and despair line the streets like a plague. You’re furious to find Qui-Gon appears to intend to just bring Anakin along and hope he doesn’t get shot, though you know the Jedi Master would protect the boy with his life. You’re being overly critical, defensive in the wake of Obi-Wan’s pain.
Together, you make swift work of the droids in the hangar, and the pilots fly off in their fighters. You hesitate to leave Anakin alone in the fighter, but you tell him to close the cockpit and crouch down if anyone comes in, the Force whispering at your back to have faith. The doors to the rest of the palace open, and before you stands Darth Maul, the Sith Obi-Wan had encountered with Qui-Gon on Tatooine. He’s a red-skinned Zabrak with black markings, and you wonder briefly if the Sith specifically sought him out because he looked evil, and if he would have even had the propensity for evil if he hadn’t been born looking the way he did. Was it nature or nurture that made Maul who he was?
You launch yourself forwards, the Makashi opening coming so naturally to you you barely even realize you have reverted to your old form. Your blade catches Maul’s as it is about to slice Obi-Wan’s thigh, and you growl at the Sith, baring your sharp canines at him in a threat display you hadn’t used since Daiyu. He clashes with Qui-Gon, then back to you, and your riposte makes him swirl away from you to gain distance. Obi-Wan fills that gap, and you continue to drive him back together as a triad. Between two Ataru wielders, your Makashi form finds purchase, until you hear a clanky rolling sound.
“Droidekas.” You curse, force pushing Maul back, then spinning on your heels to face the new threat and protect your allies, “both of you, stay in one piece while I take care of them.”
Separated, you do your best to keep their force signatures in mind as you face off against the countless droidekas that have rolled into the room on various platforms. You feel Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon’s struggle through the force, only feet away from you, but you are useless to help them at the moment. You have the advantage over the droidekas in such a tight space, but they have numbers, and two on higher floors harrang you from above, keeping you on the defensive.
Ray shields.
Your spine stiffens, and your ears twitch as you feel the pull of the Force against you, and swing your head to see Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan and Darth Maul approaching a long corridor. Obi-Wan is further back, and he gets caught in between the last ray shields while Maul stands in the wider chamber beyond the corridor, and Qui-Gon kneels patiently one shield behind him. You force push a droideka off the platform it’s on when it nearly gets you in the hip, batting away blaster fire as you watch your companions desperately.
Something hangs in the balance here. You have an awful feeling deep in your gut, and you can’t look away. The ray shields open one by one, and Qui-Gon meets Maul’s sabre with ease. Obi-Wan runs, and you see it happening - the ray shields are closing, and Obi-Wan will be cut off. As skilled as Qui-Gon is, no one has faced a Sith in a thousand years, and Ataru is not necessarily the best form for lightsaber to lightsaber combat. Qui-Gon will face the Sith alone, and he will not be able to do it by himself. Qui-Gon will face the Sith alone, and he will die.
No, he won’t.
You reach out, grasping at the shield generator on one side of the corridor as Obi-Wan races towards the circular chamber at the end. A roar rips its way from your throat as a blaster bolt tears its way through your side, but you focus on your goal single-mindedly, and you rip the shield generator open long enough for Obi-Wan to get through. You clutch your side with your left hand, swirling your lightsaber around your hand, then leap across to the nearest platform. Close-combat is not the speciality of a droideka, and you rip your way through them now, fueled by the sound of blood rushing in your ears, and a rightness in the Force with what you’ve done.
“No!” You hear Obi-Wan shout, but you don’t have time to turn and look. No one is dead, and that’s enough. You can work with ‘not dead’. You were about to begin to heal yourself as you tear the last droideka apart, but instead choose to save your strength. You’ll need it for whatever injury Qui-Gon has sustained, and it wouldn’t be the first or the last time you fought injured in order to heal someone else.
In a rush, the blackness seeping through the Force rushes away, and you jump back down to the platform leading into the ray shield corridor. You catch yourself when you stumble, clutching your side a little tighter as you approach your fellow Jedi.
“Very impressive, my young Padawan.” Qui-Gon praises shakily, and you smile at the relief on Obi-Wan’s face as he clutches his Master in his lap. There’s a slice into Qui-Gon’s hip, and you frown as you approach, clipping your lightsaber to your hip.
“I told you to stay in one piece, Qui-Gon Jinn.” You scold the older man, and he smiles weakly, brushing his fingers across Obi-Wan’s cheek.
“Technically, I am in one piece.” He replies, and you roll your eyes, crouching beside them.
“Barely.” Your retort is soft, and you place your hand against his hip, closing your eyes. The Force comes to you as readily as it always does when you wish to heal, and you knit flesh and Force together, encouraging Qui-Gon’s cells to repair the damage. The stiffness in his frame eases, and he relaxes into Obi-Wan’s arms, breathing out a sigh of relief. It will take time to fully heal, but you’ve eased his pain and begun the process. You slip a bacta patch from your med pouch and apply it carefully, then grab another for yourself, pulling your cloak out of the way to expose the ragged tear in both your robes and your torso.
“Mercy-” Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon begin to scold you in unison, but you cut them both off with a look as you apply the bacta patch to your skin.
“A thank you will suffice.” You retort, getting to your feet and holding out your hand to Qui-Gon, “Together, Obi-Wan. We should find our way to the Queen.”
You’re met with a glare, but he helps you lift his Master, and the three of you begin to make your way back through the halls of the palace. The sound of cheers reaches your ears, and you puff out a sigh of relief, silently thanking the Force for guiding you to this moment. In the hangar, you find Anakin clambering out of a fighter with carbon scoring and hints of blaster fire.
“Stars above, I’ve been saddled with keeping three menaces alive.” You grouse, and both Master and Padawan sheepishly laugh beside you, “Sprout! Are you alright?”
Anakin beams when he sees you all, though his face falls in concern when he notices you holding Qui-Gon up. He races to you, clearly failing to see you were also injured as he slams bodily into you, arms locking around your waist and face buried in your stomach. You bite back the wince, allowing Obi-Wan to take more of Qui-Gon’s weight so that you can put your arms around the boy.
“Are you okay Master Qui-Gon?” he asks, and the older Jedi reaches out a hand to ruffle the boy’s hair fondly.
“I will be fine, Ani. Tell us all about your adventure while we find the Queen.” he instructs, and you walk together as the boy begins to weave a wild tale of starfights and flying inside of an exploding battleship. You think you have at least one heart attack by the time the story is done, and Obi-Wan doesn’t look much better.
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lizcameron · 2 years ago
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Part of His World | Part One
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Pairing: JJ Maybank x fem!reader
Summary: Y/n was just trying to get out of town, running from her family and her past. When her dirt bike breaks down in Kildare, JJ Maybank swoops in to help her. Forced to stick around for a while, Y/n begins to fall in love with JJ and his tight-knit family of outcasts. The longer she stays, the harder it becomes to leave OBX as she knows she must.
Word Count: 1154
Warning(s): just some insinuation of family issues, maybe violence
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‘“Shit,” you muttered as you hit the brakes of the dirt bike and rolled to a stop.
You got off to inspect, lowering the kickstand. As you poked around the guts of the bike, you wished you had taken your bicycle instead. Seeing no smoke or leaking fluids, you were at a loss. Rising to stand with your hands on your hips, you wondered why you ever thought you would get very far. You inhaled a deep, steadying breath as you fought back the tears that threatened to spill.
“Shit, shit, shit!” you shouted as you kicked the rear tire of the dirt bike. Just as you reared your leg back for another swing, an old pickup truck rolled up and stopped on the opposite side of the road.
“Great, a dirty old perv coming to the rescue,” you mumbled as you steeled yourself, ready to tell the guy to shove off. Just as you raised your hand to wave him off, a young, blonde boy probably around 20 or 21 hopped out of the truck with his own hands up. You quickly dropped your arm to your side, fiddling with the hem of your shorts nervously.
“Woah, woah, woah,” the blonde called, holding up both hands as if to come in peace. “That’s a sick vintage you’re abusing. Ya’ need some help?”
“Um yeah, actually. It died a block back,” you said, scratching the back of your head in embarrassment.
The boy strode over, squatting down to examine the bike. Without a word, he began poking at it. You stood awkwardly, allowing the stranger to take a look. After a few silent moments, he spoke up. “You’ve got a hole in your crankcase - no oil in it. What year is this?”
“Dunno,” you replied. “It’s my brother’s.”
“Your brother let you take his bike out like this?” the boy scoffed.
“Was my brother’s,” you correct yourself. “He doesn’t have much use for it these days.”
The boy looks at the bike incredulously. “What a shame. I’d kill to ride this thing. Even in this condition, it’s sexier than my bike could ever be.”
You blushed a little. You had noticed the stranger’s good looks as soon as he exited his truck despite being confronted on the roadside. You laughed half-heartedly, not knowing what to say in response.
“I might have something back at the house to patch up that leak. You’ll need some new parts if you plan on taking this gal anywhere, though,” the boy offered.
You took a guarded step back. As much as you really needed to get out of town and help to do so, you weren’t so naive.
“No offense, but I don’t know you,” you stated, perhaps a bit too harshly.
The boy extended a hand, blurting out, “JJ.” When you didn’t take his hand, he added, “Maybank. JJ Maybank, friendly neighborhood dirt bike mechanic,” he said with a prize winning grin.
You shook his hand reluctantly. He seemed innocent enough. After a beat, JJ asked, “Now that we’re acquainted, y’ wanna help me lift this thing into the truck?”
You shrugged mentally, figuring you weren’t getting out of this predicament on your own. You toed the kickstand up and began wheeling the bike toward the truck, muttering, “Thanks.”
JJ jogged over to the truck to lower the tailgate, and the two of you lifted the bike into the bed. The bulge of his arm muscles did not go unnoticed by you.
About a mile down the road, JJ broke the silence in the truck. “You never told me your name, ya’ know.”
“Uh, Y/N,” you stated.
“Well, Y/N, why haven’t I seen you around here before?”
After a pause, you lied, “Uh, homeschooled. I don’t get out much.” You didn’t want to mention the fact that you were just passing through on your way to the mainland.
The rest of the ride to JJ’s house was quiet. He didn’t prod, picking up on how guarded you were. The trip was less than 10 minutes, all of which you stared out the window in contemplation of your next steps. You hadn’t given much thought to what you would do once you left. As soon as your dad’s truck turned off of your street that morning, you’d dragged your brother’s dirt bike out of the shed and taken the little bit of cash you knew he kept stashed in the mantle lockbox. Fifty miles later and you were broken down on the roadside.
A small, white house came into view as the truck slowed. JJ hopped out of the truck and you followed to help him get the bike down. You sat on a stool quietly as JJ cleaned and patched the damaged part. You watched as he seemed completely engrossed in his work, his bottom lip caught between his teeth in concentration. He glanced up at you, smiling when he noticed your stare.
“Can you hand me that rag there?” he asked, pointing to the workbench behind you. You blinked and held it out, JJ’s greasy hand brushing yours as he reached for it. You recoiled at the spark you felt run up your arm.
JJ’s words didn’t give you much time to think about it. “It’ll take several hours for the patch to set before you can add any oil. I’ve got plans with my friends. You should join,” he proposed.
You didn’t have anywhere else to go, and this boy was nice enough. What could it hurt? “Sure, I just want to be able to hit the road before dark,” you said.
JJ grinned that prize winning grin again.
After JJ went inside to wash up, the two of you were on your way to what JJ referred to as “the chateau.” You weren’t too upset about this wrench in your plans. It was better you broke down in Kildare where someone who could help happened upon you than somewhere where you’d be stranded and vulnerable. You could use the next few hours to formulate the rest of your plan, or maybe you’d let go and try to enjoy the distraction of others near your age.
When you pulled up to what must be the chateau, JJ killed the engine and turned to you before getting out. “You don’t have to tell me the whole truth. I just want to know that you’re not in any danger… or that you’re not an ax murderer,” he said, trying to keep it somewhat light.
You gazed at his face for a moment. It was so genuine. You pushed down the pang of sadness that crept into the back of your mind. No one had shown you an ounce of kindness or concern since your brother had left eight months ago.
“I’ll be okay,” you said with a small smile.
JJ nodded, and you both got out of the truck and walked up to the chateau.
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Thanks for reading my first-ever fic. I hope you liked it and follow for more!
More JJ coming soon. Maybe even a bit of Rafe.
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jeanbie · 2 years ago
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MODERN DAY! CONNIE HEADCANONS #1 ★ masterlist.
i've always headcanonned connie as spanish
moved around a lot since he has family all around the world
loves rap music and hip-hop music
definitely the friend who always has headphones with him or on him
always dancing when he hears a song
and he's an amazing dancer
he has an energy that can make everybody in the room more comfortable
nobody's dancing at the party? wait until connie gets on the dancefloor, then they'll come
has an infectious laugh that even strangers find themselves chuckling along with
is able to make friends wherever he goes with whoever
he's very easy-going and chill and friendly
connie loves big dogs, and has never understood why his mom chose a small little ratty dog that he pretends he doesn't like to try and make her feel bad about it (connie loves his dog)
has the best style out of his friends in terms of being original whilst also trying to appeal to different trends
loves camp rock
connie has his shaven head because he thinks it suits him, but when he was younger he had quite curly hair that was almost blonde
always has sasha help dye his hair cool colours
felt very influenced by gekko from valorant and did try and steal his personality and style for a while
very passionate about his culture and heritage and always invites his friends to family gatherings so he can share the love
the friend who is always doing something unexpected, like he's never just not doing anything
doesn't like wearing jewellery like bracelets or watches because he's always active and is worried he'd either lose them or break them
has a few ear piercings and wants to get his belly-button pierced
he got his eyebrow pierced once but he forgets he has it
when he's angry or sad he goes on tangents in spanish
finds it hilarious when his friends get spanish words wrong and deliberately teaches them words and tells them they have different meanings
took spanish when he was at school and somehow got a lower grade than eren who has never studied spanish before in his life
likes instagram but only really uses stories because sometimes he looks at a photo for too long and then decides that he hates it
loves comedy movies and especially loves romcoms
not the smartest kid at school but he gets the job done
never does homework though because it's bad enough that he has to be at school for seven hours a day, why should he do more work at home
quite good at sports, not amazing but not awful
he really likes tennis and he's pretty good at swimming and hockey
he hates athletics though like he does not see the point in running really fast and just being super tired at the end of it
loves video games and will always advocate for the tekken games
exclusively plays as toad during mario kart
genuinely likes marvel movies but always has the worst takes on characters ever
is a pickle enthusiast
he doesn't really like horror movies or slasher movies because he doesn't understand the enjoyment of watching people get brutally murdered
likes the smell of spearmint and honestly just always smells really good
he has really bad hayfever
always remembers to take a hat outside no matter what the weather is like – if it's sunny he has his cap, if it's freezing then you bet he'll be wearing one of those big hats that covers everything
had chickenpox twice as a kid- thinks it makes him special, it does not
never has storage on his phone and his camera roll is probably like full of photos that he never deletes or backs up
never been super interested in dating anybody – he gets more of a kick out of friendly interaction and has never really craved romantic affection, or at least not yet
his comfort tv show is the simpsons
loves primary colours, especially colours like blue and yellow and green
has quite veiny hands
someone who at first goes unnoticed and it's only when people are really looking at him where they realise that he's actually quite good looking
not very good at keeping plants alive
is drawn to a fish tank if there's one in the room – he always wonders what animals are thinking about when they do their daily activities
thinks that slugs are quite creepy
eren once told him that slender man was real and even though he knows it's not true sometimes he gets a bit paranoid about it
is very good at skateboarding
wears one or two necklaces at a time
you know he's coming either from 1) the loud music you can hear from his headphones, 2) you can hear him moving around as he dances or sings or 3) from the sound of loose change in his pockets
loves sour sweets
is always very disappointed by some of his friend's dinners, like where's the spice? where's the flavour?!
never asks for anything for his birthday or christmas and therefore becomes the most impossible person to buy for her
likes stickers though and will find it hilarious if you buy him terrible stickers that are god awful 
he adores TMG like he wants to be as funny as them (he is)
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hetaologist · 1 year ago
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APH America "Ethnography" and Headcanons (SFW)
The United States of America, Alfred F. Jones, Mr. Stars and Stripes, 'Merica, Pretty Boy, um... or just simply America.
Here is a list of data I have gathered from this country and oh boy, what an interesting specimen we have here....
Ethnography
You will find this find this mythological creature at your local Walmart superstore during the evening hours on a weekday, sporting flannel loungewear pants (The plaid kind), a cotton t-shirt that definitely has been worn no less than two (2) times, Old Navy $1 flip flops, and a gray jacket.
When asked about his late night runs to the popular supermarket chain, his answer is just simply:
"There's nothing else to do and no where to go."
America's Cart Inventory for March 22nd:
One (1) package of "Mega Stuf Chocolate Oreos" for $5.97, One (1) 6-Pack of "Starbucks Frappuccino Chilled Coffee Drinks" in Caramel Flavor for $7.98, One (1) Family Sized Bag of "Flaming Hot Cheetos" for $5.94, One (1) "Furby Interactive Toy" for $39.19, and One (1) Stick of " Axe Apollo Men's Deodorant Stick" for $4.97. Total of purchase was $64.05 before tax.
When questioned about the "Furby Interactive Toy", he replies:
"Yeah dude, there's this thing I wanna make that's called a "Long Furby". Wanna come by my place and check it out?"
I agreed to the invination as it would give me a better look into his living space and lifestyle. He's very friendly person.
Living Space (Home):
Oh dear god, why did I agree to come here?
House is a what you would expect from a typical American college student such as:
"Saturdays Are For The Boys" banner flag, Marvel and DC posters, a very unsettling looking blue leather couch that looks like it has been through hell and back, random dumbbells and untouched exercise equipment, every game console from the 1972 "The Magnavox Odyssey" to the PS5, action figures from various popular TV shows and comics, an old KFC bucket with half eaten chicken on the coffee table and a shelf with a huge vinyl record and CD collection.
Conclusion: What a fucking gross nerd.
America offers a cold can of Coca-Cola, I accept it.
He shows me a very long light blue "Long Furby" from his collection, further proving how much of a dork he was.
When asked what kind of music he liked (in regards to his music collection), he replies:
"That's hard to answer, it changes every week. Because of my diverse music, I pretty much like everything. One week I could be listening to 1980's classic rock, 2000's techno-pop, Bluegrass Country, 1990's Hip Hop or anything. But, if I had to give you this week's favorite artist, it would have to be Taylor Swift and Doja Cat."
"Interesting..." I replied.
I have recorded enough data for today (the smell was bothering me) and left his home to do further extensive research.
Headcanons:
America has a deep love for cars and trucks, he can be seen working on his vintage 1968 Dodge Charger R/T called 'Thunderbird' (an absolute speed demon that can reach at top speeds of muthafuckin' 156 mph), and his enormous 2019 Ford F-150 'Big John' that he loves to drive to world meetings because he is a total stud muffin showoff.
Oh yeah, he defiantly modded 'Big John' horns with airblasters. So when he parks his car and he sees other nations come out of their vehicles, he pounds on that horn and scares the living shit out of them.
He totally does 2 am donuts in the Thunderbird the front of Walmart parking lots with his brother Canada to freak him out.
Other than seeing him work on his cars while listening to "Waking Up in Vegas by Katy Perry" on the radio, he's in his room sorting out his action figure and comic book collection.
Damn, what what a geek.
He has an eBay account where he buys, trades and auctions his collection as his interests constantly change.
If you think him being a geek, dork and a nerd is gonna save him from getting a basic ass Stanley cup, you're wrong.
He has a navy blue one that he takes to meetings and he would get dirty looks from the other nations.
"Goddamn it America, you do not need that much coffee."
"Fuck you, you scone sucking twink. It's not coffee, it's the Panera Super Charged Lemonade mixed with Redbull."
"I beg your fucking pardon..."
He gave Canada a red one for his birthday that he also takes with him to meetings.
"Canada, mon ami~. That better not be that merde American drinks that makes your heart explode."
"No, it's Tim Hortons iced coffee."
"Well.. that's better than what America drinks..."
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throne-for-queens · 7 months ago
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I'm puzzled by the strong reactions surrounding Kendrick's performance at the Super Bowl this year. Growing up with Wayne, I know his music isn't all family-friendly, and many of his tracks are only familiar to those who listen to hip hop stations, watch shows like 106 & Park, or come from the South. While Wayne has some major hits, he has admitted to forgetting the lyrics to many of them. Plus, his stage presence is minimal; he primarily just raps without much flair or entertainment. For an event as significant as the Super Bowl, more is expected. Kendrick, on the other hand, knows how to deliver a captivating show, and his music is suitable for such a large audience without needing excessive censorship. It's understandable that Wayne feels disappointed; he wanted the opportunity, and it's tough to be overlooked. However, being passed over doesn't diminish his status as a legend. Many people respect Wayne and recognize his influence on the genre. While he processes this, he might want to reflect on his recent performances to understand why his hometown didn't push for him. Kendrick was informed about his performance four months ago, meaning Wayne wasn't even a consideration during that time. If Kendrick had declined, they likely would have chosen a pop artist, so I doubt Wayne was seriously considered in the decision-making process.
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formulapookie · 8 months ago
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omg idk if you still do the kiss writing prompts but beznaia + 14 pls if you dooooo
14 a kiss hesitantly
Pecco can't help but stare.
Bez is at fucking cloud nine, he just won his first grand prix and can't stay still, buzzing all over the VR46 garage where they've all been drinking for the past few hours, and Bez is a ball of energy.
Laughing, talking like a chatter box, jumping around, hopping on his bike and playing bartender, trying to do cartwheels around the garage and almost breaking a table.
He's sat beside him now, panting and sweaty, a mess of curls around his head, eyes sparkly and glassy, cheeks red.
It looks very much like the dreams Pecco has been having recently, except for the fact that in those cases they were both wearing much less clothes and where in a much less family friendly situation.
One by one the mechanics and other boys start leaving, they gotta go back and prepare for the club, even if Pecco keeps asking himself how could they still have the energy to go dance after these two hours they spent together.
So very conveniently him and Bez are the last two still in the garage, a beer in his hand, a glass with something smelling like vodka in Bez's.
The other is tired too, but still wants to go clubbing, insisting that Pecco goes with him
"come onnn we can have fun! I want to wear my -" he gets up, wobbly knees and Pecco manages to stand up and hold him before he falls down "my glitter top y'know? the one I wore in uhm" "at the summer party in Riviera yes Marco I know" "Ah so you remember eh? What is it Pecco you like me?"
And Bez is smiling, obviously, because he always smiles, esoecially when he's like this, and Pecco can thee the small tooth gap in his smile, and it has him go insane.
He wants to kiss Bez so bad it hurts. And maybe, just maybe, the glint in Bez's eyes as they look at each other is a signal to go, to give in that urge.
Maybe, just maybe then, all the little flirting games they do at parties or at the Ranch are a way to tell Pecco he can do it, he can press his lips on Bez's, feel them against his.
Maybe right now it's the only time he will ever have the courage to do it.
"Bez?" Pecco calls for him and Bez turns his head towards him, eyes charged with something Pecco can't understand.
He looks at his eyes, then at his lips, his eyes again, and meanwhile Bez starts smiling again, so his gaze shifts again to his lips, that damn tooth gap making an appearance again.
His movements are slow, tentative, to leave Bez space to break away, let go if he's uncomfortable with it, playing in a safe space.
But the more he closes distance the less Bez seems willing to move away, and when they're barely a centimetre apart Pecco closes his eyes, placing a trembling , hesitant kiss on Bez's lips.
He tastes like monster and vodka and Prosecco, he tastes like Pecco always thought Bez would taste like. Perfect.
He stays there for two, three, ten seconds before Bez actually answers to the kiss, opening his mouth and pushing his tongue past Pecco's lips into his mouth.
Bez's hands move to go on Pecco's hips, hot, so hot between his fingers. Pecco goes to curl an arm around his neck, pulling him closer, while his other hand is still holding Bez up.
They break away looking for oxygen, panting hard, foreheads sticking together, eyes still closed.
"You don't know how much I waited for you to do this Pecco" it's barely audible over their catching of breaths, but he hears it, and breaks away rapidly.
"you knew? you knew I liked you?" "I guessed, mainly by the way you look at me while we shower or when we change in front of each other, or maybe by the way you stared at me all night tonight, and practically killed one of my mechanics when he lifted me up before"
Bez is smiling once more, Pecco is going insane. He kisses him again, this time more secure, more everything.
And Bez never stops smiling, not even when he can feel Pecco's dragging him to his motorhome, his bed, onto his lap.
uhm so this has been sitting there for like A WEEK but I finally managed to be inspired enough to write something. which I hope it's good cause it was like a flow of thoughts that came to me
Send me a Ship name and a Number and I'll write a kiss
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lizpaige · 8 months ago
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❄️ would love to hear abt the lynch family holiday!! (Same anon)
hi anon! sure thing!! here's a snippet from the chaotic lynch(+ gangsey) holiday fic. i realize i made it just spring break where they all get together so not really a holiday but that might change haha
❄️ Share a snippet from a WIP of your choosing.
Adam followed the curve of the Barns driveway, exhausted after his four hour trip. As the engine of his bike quieted to a gentle roar, he caught the sight of the Lynch brothers in a familiar waltz, tumbling off the porch and into the yard, fists flying. Another usual sight that followed was Gansey jumping off the steps after them.
He cut the engine and took off his helmet, managing not to dump the bike, despite the distraction. He swung his leg over the side and jammed his heel against the kickstand. He slung his duffle bag over his shoulder and stuffed his keys in his pocket. 
“Ronan!” Gansey shouted, but neither Lynch brother seemed to care. Adam was desensitized to this Lynch brand of family bonding, but he still winced at the sound of knuckles hitting teeth. 
“Not the face!” Declan yelled.
Since the near apocalypse, Lynch brother fist fights were few and far between. They still happened, of course, Adam was convinced it was just inevitable, pre-programmed in their shared DNA, if Ronan even had DNA… 
Adam took a similar stance on their fighting that he had in high school: hands-off. They were adults, they could act like it. Adam wasn’t going to get in the middle of any argument between the Lynch brothers physical or otherwise. 
He had no patience for it today, though. It was his last semester of university, he would be graduating in a few months and Adam was exhausted. More so than his usual Parrish-branded exhaustion. He just wanted to enjoy spring break seeing his friends after months tucked away in the university library studying for finals and completing his thesis. 
He hadn’t seen much of Ronan either this last semester, despite them living together. He was either off at school or work or Ronan was off traveling with Hennessy to catch some dreamer. So he was looking forward to a week long break at the Barns, sleeping in, getting to see his friends, and not thinking about school for a goddamned second. He wasn’t sure that was going to be possible when Declan and Ronan were already at each other’s throats. 
Blue hopped off the porch next, also ignoring the fist fight and heading straight for Adam. He caught her around the waist in a hug. “Hey.”
“Hey yourself,” Blue smiled. With a friendly arm around each other, they walked toward the house, bumping hips along the way.
“How long has this been going on?” 
“Since last night,” Hennessy cut in, waving a mug of probably not just coffee in front of her. She was sitting on the porch railing like a courtside spectator. “You arrived for the grand finale.”
“Lucky me,” Adam replied. He heard the thud of the brothers falling down to roll around in the dirt, but he didn’t turn to watch, instead walking right past the chaos and into the house. He put his bag down near the stairs and followed Blue into the kitchen.
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ticklish-n-stuff · 1 year ago
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A brotherly talk
So @kairoscler and I were talking ab pairings and somehow we ended up talking ab AkiSaki being a thing and how Tsukasa would react to it AND NOW IM SO OBSESSED WITH THE IDEA I HAD TO TURN IT INTO A FIC RARARARA
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Akito & Tsukasa (platonic/Akito is dating Saki)
Lee: Akito
Ler: Tsukasa
Warnings: Tickles! Straight-
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Akito wasn’t sure how it happened. He definitely wanted nothing to do with the Tenma family, yet that all changed after he met Saki. Another soul passionate about her dreams of music, still going despite how hard it gets, and most importantly, she wasn’t like her brother. Sure she was more optimistic than what Akito is used to, but nowhere near the levels of destruction Tsukasa would bring wherever he went.
Somehow, those two hit it off and became an official couple. When Tsukasa found out, he was quick to pull Akito aside and give him ‘the talk’.
“Ugh… do we have to?” The ginger groaned, running a hand through his hair as Tsukasa dragged him along to a private room.
“Of course! Y’know that Saki’s wellbeing is my top priority, and I want to make sure you’ll treat her with the respect she deserves and— Hey! Are you even listening?!” Tsukasa pouted and huffed as Akito’s gaze was anywhere except where it was supposed to be.
“Akito, I’m not kidding—” the blonde emphasized his point to a jab into the younger one’s stomach, words falling deaf at the jump. “What was that?”
“Nothing! Just hurry up…” Akito crossed his arms, cheeks slowly turning strawberry red. Instantly giving him away.
“Oh, I see. You’re ticklish~” Tsukasa had a smug, toothy grin on his face. Watching as Akito tried shrinking in on himself.
“Shut up– H-hey! Don’t try anything!” The ginger's voice wavered as his senpai slowly approached him with devilish eyes. He tried stepping back, only to fall flat across the sofa. “Ihi’m warning yohou!” Poor Akito couldn’t help the nervous giggles that started bubbling in his throat.
“Maybe this’ll make you listen now~” Shortly after, Tsukasa hopped onto the younger male’s hips, keeping him trapped. Dazzling fingers quick to descend onto the soft stomach.
“waHAIT! NAHAHAHA! TSUKASA-SEHEHENPAI!”
“Now, repeat after me. ‘I”ll be a good boyfriend to Saki’” with each syllable, Tsukasa’s fingers would poke and prod at a different spot. Pinching up and down his ribs, skittering his sides, scratching at his belly. Anything to make Akito howl in laughter.
“I-I PFFTAHAHAHAHA! IHI'LL BEHEHE A GOHOHOD BOYFRIEND— OH MY GAHAHASH!” the ginger shook his head furiously. His eyes squeezed shut and cheeks looked like they were about to pop. Tsukasa couldn’t help laughing along, watching his junior lose himself in his hysterics.
"C'mon, you almost got it!" The future star encouraged to a squeeze at the hips, earning a full-on scream of laughter.
“Onii-chan, what’s happening in there?!” Saki’s voice broke them out of their erm… ‘talk’, causing Tsukasa to halt his fingers.
“Nothing! Just having a friendly chat~” he got off the ginger, who was panting as if he had run a marathon. He gave Saki a weak thumbs up, causing her to roll her eyes playfully.
“Glad to see you two getting along~” she spoke cheerfully. She definitely heard all the commotion, but for Akito’s sake, she’ll keep it to herself… for now.
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