#i was just watching old commercials and i had to write this
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suddenly remembered those old disney junior promos where the mickey heads for each show interacted with each other and. i like to think they didn't have the budget or something to actually animate the individual characters interacting so they just used the mickey heads. but in my deranged mind i think of it as the CONCEPTS of the shows interacting with each other rather than the characters. like. like an object show. except with TV shows. which is a concept i came up with wayyyyy back in 2007-ish before object shows even existed
#i don't know where i'm going with this post#i was just watching old commercials and i had to write this#there actually does exist a subgenre of object show fan content involving logos for shows and companies btw#also logo insanity was a thing#if i was a bit older and got in on that niche autistic logo fandom market with a show about logos#as characters with personalities#i could've made BANK
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hi can you write rafe x wife. Happily married and have 3 teen kids. Sons friends comes over and talks about mom as milf( idk maybe something else up to u) and Rafe and his wife hear it! Then Rafe f*cks her
of course I can!!
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ఌ𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧ఌ
Pairing: husband!rafe x wife!reader
Warnings: SMUT, language, p in v, fingering, no mentions of protection (be safe, wrap it before u tap it!), breeding kink, dirty talk, possessive/jealous Rafe.
Feel free to send more reqs! Thinking of doing dad!Rafe so send me things you’d like to see! Or more husband!rafe idm! Anything!
🝮🝮🝮
Just getting home from work, you got out of your Range Rover. Collecting your handbag, laptop and some papers from the back seat.
You headed into yours and Rafe’s estate. Walking through the front door. You already knew your three sons had friends over. Your eldest, Cody had asked you over text. You slip your heels off by the door and walk through the large foyer and over to the spacious living room. You smiled as you saw your boys Cody (17), Morgan (16) and Ollie (14 1/2). You spoke “hey boys, you all having fun?” They all said their “heys” and “yeah, thanks”.
You subtly noticed the way their friends eyed you up. Teenage boys never really cared if you saw them checking woman out. Well, these lot didn’t. You looked over to the attached large kitchen, smiling as you see Rafe.
You walked over, putting your things onto the counter. Rafe was leaning forward. His elbows on the counter as he watched the tv from the kitchen as your sons and their friends had soccer on. You walked over to Rafe. Smiling as you put your hand on his back. “Hey, love, you ok?” He turns his head to look at you. His famous grin plastered on his face. “Yeah, all good, how’s work?” He pulls you by the waist. Giving you a soft but firm kiss, showing you how much he missed you since you left this morning. You pull away to answer “good, made some great photos today, all I have to do is change the lighting and tone..” he smiled and pecked your lips “good, can I watch it while you do it?”
Rafe loved what you did. You were a photographer for models, perfume/jewellery commercials or fashion designers. You took the photos and edited them to put on magazines or advertisements. He loved how much you enjoyed your job to.
You nodded “of course, Rafey” he smiled “good girl..” you pecked his cheek.
You sat at the island counter, going through the photos on your laptop. As Rafe leaned against the counter, arms crossed, taking the occasional sip from his drink.
You both overheard Cody and his friend talk. His friend, Jack, asked “dude, is that your older sister or something?” Cody asked “who?” Jack replied “the one that’s in the kitchen with your dad.” Cody shook his head “nah man, that’s my mom.” Jack replied “no fucking way?? She’s so hot, dude, your mom is such a milf, no joke.”
Rafe practically chocked on his drink, as your eyes widen and press your hand to your forehead. A quiet gasp escaped your lips. What did Jack just say? You couldn’t be going mad, Rafe heard the same thing.
Cody spoke “shut up! Don’t say that!” Jack shrugged nonchalantly “dude, I’m just saying, I’d tap that if I could.”
Your eyes widen, Rafe’s jaw clenched. Rafe didn’t need to be and wasn’t jealous… not exactly… he just didn’t like the fact that a seventeen year old friend of your sons had just said that about you… his wife, the mother of his children, his childhood friend, his lover…
Through the rest of the day, Rafe stuck to your side. You’d changed into some sweats and a crop top. Once you were done you both sat on the couch; Rafe next to you. He had his arm around you the whole time. Occasionally kissing your cheek or temple. Showing the boys, your his. He’s the one that put that beautiful diamond ring on your finger. He’s the one that put three beautiful and handsome boys in you. He helped you create life. He’s the one that gives you happiness.
🝮🝮🝮
Soon after, the sun started to set. Your three sons had asked both Rafe and yourself if they could stay the night at one of the boys house. Rafe agreed and told them to be safe and have fun.
As soon as he had shut that front door. You were in for a real treat tonight. Rafe walked back over to the couch. He put his one knee on the seat and he placed a hand on the side of your neck. His cold metal of his rings and watch press gently into your warm neck. He crashes his lips into yours like a starved man. His tongue quick to be shoved into your mouth. You knew what he was up to. You could tell it from the exact moment Cody’s friend said what he said about you.
You knew Rafe since day one, knew him better than he knew himself. So you knew what he was doing. And you were definitely not complaining.
Rafe placed one hand one your thigh and guided you so you laid back on the couch. While he stayed on top of you. He groaned against your lips. He mumbled “‘m gonna make you feel so good, baby” you gasped softly when you feel Rafe’s hips press against yours. He puts his free hand from your thigh, moving it to the waistband of your sweats.
Putting his hand down your sweats he could feel the material of your panties and your soft, wet skin. He groaned “you wearing the black lace ones?” You nodded. He grinned “all f’me…mine” you mumbled “yes, Rafey…”
His fingers slowly move up and down against your heat. You moaned softly. You gasp when you felt his middle finger slip in. He tilted his head and started to kiss along your neck. He groaned, his finger slowly pulling in and out. As he inhaled the sent of your vanilla perfume, he groaned once again. He mumbled against your soft skin “feel so good on my finger, want another, babe?” You nodded. He replied “words. y/n.” You whispered “another, please, Rafe” he slipped his ring finger in. Causing you to gasp softly.
After a few more seconds he pulled his fingers out. You whimpered, he grinned “oh we aren’t done, just wanna take you upstairs… prefer the bed.” Your mouth practically waters as you watch him move his fingers to his mouth. Cleaning you off his digits.
He picks you up, over his shoulder. Taking you upstairs and not wasting anymore time.
Placing you down on the bed, he was quick to take your clothes off. All piece of clothing on the floor. While he starts to take his off, you watched in awe. Your reaction to him will always be the same. It’s like looking at him for the first time, over and over. You never got tired of him. Never have and never will.
You watched as he was swift to remove his boxers. His huge length springing free. He moved onto the bed. His lips go to yours as his hand moves to his length. Pumping it a few times, then lining up with your entrance. You gasp as he started to push in. Once he was all the way in he leaned over you. His chain dangles by your chin. His hands either side of your shoulders. His biceps flex as he looks down at you.
“You’re so pretty under me, sweetheart.” You moaned softly as he slowly started to move in and out. He chuckled lowly “you know, what the boys said… was right..” he groaned. “You are a milf… my milf… such a hot momma, baby… I know you want another… want me to give you one?” You moaned as he picked up the pace a little more. “Words, sweetheart.” You nodded “yes, fuck! Want another…”
He moaned hearing your words, “fuck Y/n, I’ll give you another… I’ll fill you up, make your baby bump come back. Love you baby bumps… every one of them…” you moaned. His one hand moves to your lower stomach, pushing on the bulge on your lower abdomen. Causing you to moan, as he goes deeper.
He picks up his pace, he moaned “fuck, gonna make you pregnant again. Wanna see you with my baby in you again.” He goes harder. “Fuck can feel you round me, that make you excited, baby? Thinking of me getting you pregnant again?”
You nodded, grabbing onto his bicep. Nails digging into his tan skin. He groans at the feeling. He spoke “gonna give ya a girl this time, I wanna girl, so I can spoil you both, yeah? Let you two have the world.” You moan “oh Rafey!” He grinned. “Yeah? Like that?” You nodded. He leaned back. Grabbing your hips, guiding you against him as he thrusts into you.
He can feel your close, “gonna come f’me? Let me have it, sweetheart. You do that f’me and I’ll do it for ya..” you placed your hand on his chest. Then holding his chain. Wanting him closer, he knew you well. He knew that meant you were about to finish. He leaned down. You moaned “fuck, gonna-” “do it, finish over my cock f’me, love…” those words hit you like a brick wall. Every. God. Damn. Time.
And he knew it too.
You moaned one last time, then finishing. Causing you to tighten around him. He chased his realise and finished inside you.
He moaned as he slowed his pace. Still thrusting, just slowing down. Chasing both of your climaxes. Once he came to a spot. You had you usual ‘thank you’. He kissed both cheeks, then your forehead, temples, chin, nose and then your lips. He mumbled against your lips “you ok? Feel good, baby? You did so good..” You nodded “so good.”
He gently pulled out, causing you both to inhale sharply. He gently picked you up. Going ahead and doing your aftercare. For all the time you both knew each other. And past Rafe, with his many hook ups. Not once did he do aftercare. But for you? His childhood friend to girlfriend to fiancée to wife to mother of his children?
He’d give you the world, he’d kill for you. Protect you. Die for you, live for you. He’d do anything for you. Even if it’s as simple as aftercare. He loves you. You love him.
🝮🝮🝮
#rafe#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe smut#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#rafe fic#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#outerbanks rafe#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x kook!reader#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x smut#rafe x fem!reader#rafe x y/n#husband!rafe#wife!reader#smut#outer banks#obx#outer banks x reader#obx x reader#obx fanfiction#outer banks fanfiction#dad!rafe au
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♡ Picture Perfect ♡
A/N: COMMISSION FOR MY LOVELY SUNSHINE ANON!!!! Thank you so so so much for your support and patience my love, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!!!!
Content/warnings: Puppy! hybrid reader x Vendetta era! Leon, 2nd person (you/yours), fem AFAB reader, reader calls Leon daddy, very grump x sunshine, lots and lots of fluff, a moment of angst and realisation but it all gets resolved :3
Word count: 7700 est. (sweet jesus)
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Leon hadn’t gone to a shelter expecting anything. An act of service, he told himself. That’s what this was. Entertaining the idea of adoption. Like people who drop loose change into charity boxes, the ones by the cash register with scuffed edges, to feel better about themselves. Right now he feels like the scuffed one.
‘Go to the shelter,’ Chris said. ‘Hybrids make good companions,’ Chris said. He was vouching for his fellow soldiers at the BSAA, stick-up-the-butt men with trained military hounds. And judging by the posters hung on the windows outside the pet store, satisfaction was guaranteed. So he expected to enter a building of colourful lights, cheery music, and happy hybrids as far as the eye could see. Fluttering butterflies, sunshine and rainbows. Just like the commercials on tv.
What a heap of shit. A smelly one, too. Big, steamy, stinky load of it. Those flyers were all smoke and mirrors, and let’s just say this was one hell of a broken mirror. The place reeked of bad luck. At least the stalls were cleaner than his conscience. Should he have actually done his research for this, even if it was just for appearances? It wasn’t the worst place in the world for him to go looking, right? No, right.
Leon had seen his fair share of hybrids in his time at the DSO. Missions where he took them out of labs, stopped genetic modification. Sick bastards they were, people prodding rabbits with all kinds of needles. Yeah, he enjoyed taking those types of operations down.
But he’d also seen the ones trotting around the office on occasion. Trained to sniff out B.O.W blood, or health herbs and antibiotics. And yeah, he was intrigued. Had watched the training rounds, memorised the starting commands, noted the stiff tail and hard gaze on every breed there. So he figured he may as well take a look at the less hard-ass offers.
God, what a mistake that was.
How had the mighty fallen so far? He’d planned to walk the dusty concrete floors with pride, to look down at the row upon row of hybrids only to decide no, he did not in fact, need a pet. A companion. A friend, a lover, whatever. No rabbits, no puppies, no kitties. He was too old for this shit. He’d seen it all before, lazing black cats and bouncy bunnies. Nothing stuck out to him, he’d tried. He could at least say he tried. From then on if anyone asked why his face would sink into a frown watching his coworkers bring in their happy-go-lucky hybrids, he had an open opportunity to rub a calloused palm over the salt-sweat skin of his neck and mutter that he tried.
That’s what mattered, right? Sure, that’s what mattered. He tried. He kept that thought in mind as workers tried introducing him to some of their more ‘respectable’ species, the fluffier cat girls and boxier dog boys. None of it was for him. All of this was a lost cause.
And then there you were.
Next thing he knew he had the thought of you living at his house stuck in the back of his head. Not just the back, though. No you’d left handprints - pawprints - over every fissure of his brain, burrowing into the ventricles. Now you were doing two little circles before settling into his cerebrum, digging at the surface to bury down nice and deep. Maybe bury a bone there. Extra comfy.
He’s stuck.
You’re a cutie. Pretty as a picture. A fine should be plastered across that sweet face for even existing, a paper bag over your head. It’s a crime for anything resembling you to exist, because otherwise Leon would’ve picked up every hybrid on the street. Those puppy-dog eyes pierced right through his soul like a bullet to the chest. And he left his kevlar vest at home, too. What a mistake.
A floppy eared thing, fluffed to the max, your tail tapping aimlessly behind you. Bored. Lonely. They kept the pup hybrids in separate kennels when the little kids weren’t here to meet them, so you were on your own. Eyes as big as saucers, he was sure they’d have popped out of your head by now like one of those squeeze toys, the ones you squish so they squeak something reedy and awful.
Glossy. You looked dejected, sad. Hopeful yet hopeless. In his mind he saw you bounding through long green grass in the dark night, nipping at fireflies between golden giggles. Watching you paw at the sky aimlessly, beckoning upon lightning bugs so you might try and ‘accidentally’ catch one in your mouth. You were made to be loved by someone.
It hurt. In a way you reminded him of his younger self. That cop, once bright eyed and bushy tailed, now decaying and withering into the husk of a human he was now. The one that burned down with the rest of whatever was left of Raccoon City.
And yeah, he wasn’t proud of this shelter specifically being his only pick of the bunch, there were hundreds he could’ve picked from. But this was a boot-out shelter, AKA they only hold onto hybrids for so long before kicking them to the curb. Just the thought of you, your fluffy self out on the streets..
He couldn’t let that happen to you.
And then those wet eyes fell on him and your tail swished quicker, your ears perking. Like a heartbeat picking up, a skipping pulse. You’re playing jump rope with the veins to his heart, his BPM’s music to those fuzzy ears. And that tail? Oh it’s swaying to the beat.
Something in your body seemed to click at the sight of him. It was an instinct, a switch flicking in your puppy brain. If he were in a movie this would be the part where time slows down and the camera focuses on his face and your own, panoramic view of the environment you both found yourselves in. Your face behind the bars, slowly shuffling your way towards him in curiosity.
That’s when he knew he had to take you home. Surely he was a better choice than the other scum that might get a hold of a soft thing like you. And you seemed sweet. So it was settled.
The paperwork was easy enough. Signing on dotted lines, signatures to his left and right. Handing over his credit card for the chance at ‘friendship’ or something like that. The only thing he truly recalled was leaving with you in the backseat, curled up against the car cushions.
Change. That’s what this would be.
You were well behaved. Quiet, too. At first anyway. Leon’s whole life had been thrown into disarray and all he had to do was give his credentials to some lady with a blurry nametag, confirm he wasn’t a psycho murderer or trying to Cruella DeVille you for your ears and tail. Which he absolutely didn’t have the time for, so no need to worry about that factor.
It only took a few hours for his house to be filled to the brim with new puppy gear. Collars and leashes of different colours (he couldn’t decide on those), squeaky toys and stuffed animals, comfy clothing, food and water bowls, and of course one of those playpens to lock up overnight. Leon wasn’t entirely educated on how to take care of you. Was he supposed to get you a room, a proper bed? How human was he supposed to treat you?
The overall adjustment period was fast, for you anyway. Sure, at first you’d gone all timid when he brought you home, staring up at this well-built, shaggy man in a leather jacket like he was about to lock you in your cage forever. Might be a poacher, your brain scrambled together, or one of those mill owners. Yeah, he looked the type. But as soon as you heard him whisper a “Well hey there, sweetheart,” in your direction in hopes of coaxing you out of the backseat you were set and smitten. And in case he was still hesitant, you gave him a pretty clear giveaway on how you felt. After he’d set up your cage in the living room, packed full of blankets and pillows atop your pet bed, and watched you practically dolphin dive into the sea of plush, it became clear you were truly just happy to have a home. You were happy to be with him.
Not like you spent many days in that puppy bed anyway, it only took a few days for you to come whimpering at Leon's feet in the night to climb under the blankets with him. And of course, he caved. How strong could you expect a man to be? Not to mention the stuffed toys you brought with you every time you hopped up, he’d become familiarised with all their names by the third week.
Sure, it’d been tough for Leon in some areas, but in some ways it was also easy. You brought solace where you went, and you knew better than to overstep boundaries. He found out quick enough that you didn’t entirely know what to address him as, ‘Leon’ felt strange for some gut reasons but ‘sir’ and ‘mister’ were too formal, so you immediately leapt to daddy. Which, of course, caught him horrendously off-guard. Almost sent him into cardiac arrest the first time you yipped it in his direction, a plaque of cholesterol, fat, and an unbelievable amount of cuteness clogging his arteries.
The worst part? After a few days he found himself enjoying it. Had his heart fluttering when you giggled it out as he ruffled your ears, rolling onto your back as he gave your belly an affectionate rub. Was he sick for liking it? Sure. He needed a doctor, stat. Symptoms included being extra ready to get home from work, planning his meals more thoroughly, and catching himself daydreaming more than usual. The diagnosis was a fluffy tailed sunshine puppy who trotted around behind him 24/7. A sweet shadow, a nosy thing. Prescribed treatment? Lots of cuddles, apparently. Cuddles, and plenty of daily shenanigans.
On one particular day he caught sight of you padding through the hallway slowly, looking up at all the photos he had hung upon the walls. Drinks with Claire and Chris on his birthday where he (begrudgingly) attended the surprise party they’d set up. Standing in the Whitehouse with some old man in a fancy suit. An old picture of just him sat atop the table below it all, his graduation photo from the police academy. He didn’t have the heart to throw it out. That was merely one of many old-news trinkets scattered around the house, objects that told a mixed story of Leon Kennedy. Well, now it was the house of Leon Kennedy and his puppy girl.
With a soft thud you sat your cute butt down on the floorboards to simply.. Stare. Examine, memorise, imagine what it was all like.
Maybe his hair was softer in this photo, shaggier in that. Darker features and rougher around the edges, as if someone had switched from watercolour to graphite, defining his jaw. More stubbled and strong now, with a broader frame. Like watching a tree trunk even out, sprouting tough branches, leaves coming to fall over his eyes in bangs. He needed a haircut soon.
However, in that moment of watching you, he knew he’d made the right decision. He saw it in the way the silhouette of your tail swished in interest, how your flopped ears perked up an inch whenever you focused on the finer details. Most of all he loved that signature puppy head-tilt. He got one of those whenever you didn’t understand what he was saying, be that garble about his work or the lulled out words from whatever book he read to you as you laid in his lap.
Yes, you laid in his lap now. And it was starting to feel so normal to him. The wagging tail in his peripheral vision, your eyes peeking up at his desk in his study. It all came so naturally, including the moments of chaos. One of which was the messy dance of getting you bathed, or dressed.
Baths. God, you stood your ground on baths. As soon as you heard the pipes squeal you took off like a rocket. Zoomed past the potted plants, darting through the backdoor if you could make it in time. Leon had to scoop you up mid-sprint as you wriggled and squeaked to get out of his hold, and shit did you run fast when you felt like it. Oh sure, you dragged your feet to snails-pace when you had to leave the park, but suddenly his puppy had the legs of a trackstar when it was bathtime. Once he actually had you in the warm water it was a whole other thing. You just couldn’t sit still for the life of you. Thank god for bath toys, or else you’d spend every second giving your flapping ears and soaked hair the signature wet dog shake. He turned his back? Shake. Reached for the shampoo? Shake. Went to turn the faucet on? Shake. He’d honestly rather you do that than try to jump out, and at least you got extra comfy with him when it came time to towel dry you. The last time he tried the hairdryer method you’d snapped and barked at the hot air like it was a personal affront, as if the loud hum was cursing you out in its own fan-whirring way. Then came the clothes.
On a good day he could wrangle you into a shirt of some kind (usually one of his own) and a pair of fluffy shorts with a hole in the back for your tail. On other days it was a tug-of-war fight over a v-neck because it’s obviously an invitation to play and growl between giggles and not Leon seriously begging a quiet “Baby- honey, no- Please, sweetheart, Chris is coming over and you can’t be butt naked, listen to daddy-”. Sometimes he really thought those floppy ears were just painted on. God, you were a little menace.
Luckily you were also adorable. Sure, a little dull, but so damn sweet. He couldn’t count how many times he’d pretend to throw a ball, watching you go sprinting out across the floorboards, slipping in your socks, in desperate search for it. Then it’s the head tilt, a routine trot around the coffee table, and sitting in the hall with a quiet whine. Vanished, poof, thin air. Gone. Not to worry, cause soon Leon calls out an ‘Oh look!’ and the ball has magically teleported back into his hand to your shock and awe. Pawing at his hand and begging him to explain how on earth he learned such witchcraft.
But there were a few things that threw him off guard about you, even after settling into this routine. For starters, your face. He didn’t mean that in a harmful way, he promises. Cross his heart and all that. But you were just so… gentle. Bright. Sometimes he found himself squinting at the sheer shine of you. Made him wonder if you came with batteries that just never got removed, corroded into place after years of chasing your own tail. Stuck on this constant sunshiney state with no way to power down.
And you were manufactured in some lab, a biological anomaly even he couldn’t wrap his head around. A person who wasn’t whole and yet was so much more than that. You contained multitudes, brought life and colour in ways those others may see a ‘normal’ never could. The pitch of your bark, your hatred - and he meant hatred - of squirrels, how fast you leapt at the opportunity for a ride in the car. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he was proud to be the one to bring you home. That he was the one to trace the curves of your hand, to rub your ears, to hold you in his lap while watching late-night tv. This was good for him. This was good for both of you.
Day after day he found himself adoring you in a new way. A week ago he’d have dropped his head in his hands at the sight of you nosing his morning slippers towards his feet in the wee hours of the morning, now he can’t help but smile sleepily. Lopsided and scratchy from his beard. Because despite the energy threatening to burst from your body, you still took the time to sit and wait for him to get up.
He was a weak man now. A trained government agent was trailing behind his puppy girl in a pet store as you insisted on getting specifically that bunny with those ears cause it looked like the one that ran outside the living room window every day. And he listened to every ramble about said rabbit as you trotted to the cash register, plushie in mouth.
He’d fallen. Hard.
Time had passed in the blink of an eye before either of you could process it. Seasons blurred into a kaleidoscope of colours, and soon enough Leon found himself with a cuddle buddy more often than he did an empty bed. The feeling of your nose nuzzled into his shirt, strings of happy whimpers and whines mumbled from your sleepy lips, it all became his white noise. You’d made very quick friends with the sprinklers out in the yard by the time summer had rolled around, jumping back and forth over the swinging water in an attempt to catch it in your mouth. All Leon had to do was sit on the porch and watch in adoration.
What you both seemed to adore much less was when Leon left for work. It had you pawing at the windows with screeching nails, teary eyed and howling when he got home extra late. He didn’t have the heart to lock you up when he left, something about it made his chest strain. His poor girl, stuck in her little blanket cave, wondering where her daddy went. Pawing aimlessly at the wired frame, chewing on the gate between whimpers. He couldn’t bear the thought. It ached, in fact. You were hurting his heart without even doing anything.
But the past four days had been a nightmare. His first long term assignment since adopting you. Sure, Claire and Chris had done their best to entertain you since you couldn’t just be left home alone, plenty of toys and games and walks, but it just wasn’t it. You’d pace in little circles, whining and crying and crying and whining. Hours spent drying your tears with cooing and shushing from the Redfield siblings only to burst the pipes and sob some more. It was no use. Until he came back.
And now he had. After so many days (a million, you’d told Claire) without him, he was home.
The sound of his motorcycle - that he’d retired from everything other than work for obvious reasons, vis-à-vis your sensitive ears - was a dead giveaway, and soon enough you had your cheeks squished up against the front window yapping away till your vocal cords strained. God, wasn’t that a sight. Face lifted into a glowing grin, ear perked up, tail a wagging mess. You looked like a whirlwind had been stuffed down into a body, and you were ready to tear through his home. An oh so dangerous fuzzy tornado on the hunt for endless snuggles and belly rubs to swallow up, up, up into your cyclone of love.
You were gorgeous. You were adorable. You were everything he didn’t know he needed. He’d hardly stepped foot in the house and you were already jumping up to try and kiss and lick at his face with a thousand puppy kisses, tail wagging so fast you might just take flight. Like one of those cartoon dogs from those 80’s shows, ones Leon still can’t name to this day. That was the other good thing about all of this, you made him laugh. Chuckling hoarsely as he pushed past the door only to be met with your arms wrapped around him excitedly.
“Daddy, you’re back! You’re home! I missed you!” Yip, yip, bark. You were melting his heart, almost running yourself into the wall at the sheer buzz of excitement thrumming through your body.
Oh, how he’d missed you, rubbing that tender spot between your ears with a kiss to your hair.
You’d made him soft. A side of him he never knew existed came out when he got you.
“I missed you too, pup.” He could only shake his head with a tired grin, dropping his bag at the door by the coat rack and shoe cubby. He’d had to buy one since you’d developed the habit of stealing his slippers to use as makeshift mittens. “Be careful where you’re walking there, honey.”
You were too busy babbling away about everything you’d done while he was gone to hear him properly, from playing a gazillion games of fetch to daily trips to the park. How that chipmunk had purposely ticked you off so you pawed at a tree trunk yapping at it for a good 5 minutes. And of course, how you’d almost managed to finally catch your tail. Looking up at him with so much pure puppy love with every step you took backwards through the hallway with a quickly wagging tail. You couldn’t keep your eyes off him, you’d just missed him too much.
That tail of yours though, it was out of control. Swish, swish, wag, sway. Mind of its own. Too happy to have your daddy home to focus on anything else. Pure puppy love.
During your ramblings as Leon slowly worked at his shoelaces and zipper, all you could do was emphasise how happy you were that Chris had caved and let you visit the cafe downtown. Whilst mid explanation about what a ‘puppuccino’ was and how spectacular it tasted, the sudden smack of your fur against glass had you jumping in surprise. It seemed you’d collided with something in the midst of your excitement. The impact was followed by a loud crack, one that had Leon’s head pulling up to a swift stillness, no longer worried about getting his boots off.
“What was that?”
There’s a concoction of emotions in his voice. A cocktail of worry, concern, and an off sternness. He’s hardly ever been stern with you. The last time he had been, the sad look on your face had him faltering. Usually he was so comfortable with being stern, it flowed freely through his body like the familiar warmth of whiskey. It was something he was so used to. But he wasn’t used to those glossy eyes tearing up at him. He was just a man, after all. And you were his puppy.
That thought seemed to elude you both right now though, jolting to step away from the broken picture frame, looking down at the damage you’d done.
“Pup, are you-”
His academy graduation photo. You’d smacked it with your tail, and the frame had snapped.
All the colour drained from Leon’s face in one fell swoop. His calm, tired gaze ripped wide into one of shock, kicking his shoes into the shelves with a harsh thud.
“No- no no, no- shit!” His voice was a boom, it was loud and uncontrollable. Shaking the plaster of the walls with rolling thunder, his eyes zeroed in on the shattered glass, lightning crackling behind stormy blue eyes. Usually they looked so clear. Usually he was clear, his intentions and his love, how he was trying to and learning to get used to this life. And for a while he really was. “Goddamnit!”
And then this happened.
And it was scary. You wouldn’t admit it out loud, but it frightened you. A dead giveaway was how your ears flattened against your hair, once wagging tail now dead still and tucked between your legs. You’re cowering.
You were afraid.
But Leon didn’t notice. No, this was the end of a short fuse after a long week of work. A flame to the stick of dynamite Leon Scott Kennedy sometimes found himself to be. This was not what he wanted to come home to. He was too busy pulling at his hair in a nostalgic wave of guilt, of horror clawing up his back, staring at the mess.
The mess you’d made.
Cracked fingers pick at the shattered glass in hopes of salvaging what he could, the sharp edges slicing at the flesh that had grown tender with your touch.
You’d made him soft.
Had that been a mistake?
It must have been with the way he flinched back, cursing under his breath. Shards of the frame bit at his fingers as if in anger, snapping dogs of his past. Not like his pup, not like his sweet girl curled up in the corner, wondering if this meant he hated her.
That wasn’t the worst part.
Right across the top corner of the photo the paper had been scratched, ripped by a stray piece of glass. Slicing through the date he’d graduated. The day he thought everything was going to start getting better way back when. The sight had his whole body frozen in place. Bracing for something to happen, because something always happened to him. The feeling building from his belly to his chest, from his chest to his eyes. It was sickeningly familiar. It was a bullet to Leon’s shoulder. It was the click of a lighter to a cigarette. The screams from an Eastern European church. His bloodied fists against Arias’ face. The mole in his unit.
It was the gunshot that ripped through his family home.
That’s what really set him off.
“This was the one thing I had from it all, this was it! The one good thing!” Rambling like a mad man, someone you’d watch talk to himself on the sidewalk late into the night. “And it was in such- such good condition. It was perfect. It was all perfect before you- Damn it, pup, why couldn’t you-”
By the time he’d finally turned to you, his words screeched to a halt. Brakes squealing at the velocity of such a hit, a surprise, he could feel his heart overturn. Rolling haphazardly down the highway. He couldn’t stop it, because he caused it. He caused such an accident. So busy running on empty thanks to work that the dried out tank had crushed beneath his feet, crunching steel caving so easily. Weak. You were weak for him. He was just only seeing it now.
He’d hurt your feelings, whether he meant to or not. Over an accident, no less.
He was the reason your body was quaking in fits similar to that of a leaf atop frozen winds. Why your eyes were shot open, glossy and round, like the first cracks in the icy pond at your favourite park making way for water. And you looked like you’d plunged through the surface.
Maybe the most awful detail of all was the fact that Leon simply didn’t know what to say to make this better.
Licking over his chapped lips, the air in his lungs seemed to dissipate. He was left breathless, and not in the way he usually liked to be. Not like when he watched you pick at the dandelions in the backyard, or when you chased your tail in circles to the point of dizziness. Someone had trapped him in a vacuum of consequences, leaving him to face them. To face you, you and those big puppy-dog eyes threatening to flood with tears. “Look I didn’t- Oh, c’mon. You know I didn’t mean it like-”
It wasn’t working. His words were getting caught in his throat, pulling a tense cough from his chest. As if the answer was teasingly scratching at his vocal chords and no amount of water could wash it away. He could feel his chest tighten, any trace of anger or frustration being flushed from his system. Now he could think clearly. He could see how heartbroken you were.
The biggest giveaway was how your body leaned in the direction of the living room without thinking, braced on your toes. An instinct dug deep beneath those layers of fuzz and the warmth of your hand in his own. Something to be left untouched, like a toy you’d buried in the backyard, under pile after pile of soil and past traumas.
Now Leon had dirt on his hands. The clouds in that stormy blue seemed to clear out, the moonlight streaming through the window like a lighthouse reflection. He was seeking you out, trying to let you know it was clear. That you were safe.
It just wasn’t enough.
“Hey.. Hey, no. Honey-
It was no use. He’d blinked and you were gone, left with the echo of your sock-clad footfalls against hardwood floors. Every step beating in unison with his pulse, his ears rang to the rhythm of your rushed breaths. Now you were the one pulling him along on a leash. Tugging at the weak retractable cords of his heartstrings, you’ve wrapped him around a tree once, twice, three times. His head was spinning, a splitting heat sizzling in his frontal lobe frying the edges of his mind until they curled.
Rubbing a hand over his face, smearing the guilt from cheek to cheek, up to his forehead. He was swimming in that grief. Mourning a time before this one, praying for a reset button. You had such a way of turning him inside out without knowing it, pulling his muscles and bone up from his anatomy to gnaw affectionately on his femur and nip at his biceps. He barely hid anything from you, he never felt the need to. Who were you going to tell? The mosquitos you stalked after with a batting tail in the cooler summer nights? Please. And half the time you didn’t really understand what was going on, anyway. So there was no harm in letting you lay your head in his lap while lounging on the couch, his voice a deep lullaby soothing you to sleep, aimlessly tapping your tail against the cushions. You were so pure. You didn’t mean any harm, you never did. Leon wasn’t sure you had one malicious bone in that cute body of yours.
How was he supposed to approach this, though? This had been the first major incident in your white-picket-fence-esque lifestyle. Did he go upstairs and change out of clothes dusted in gunpowder and shame? Try with a clean state so you had some time to yourself, some space? Is that what you wanted?
No. No, knowing your usually chipper clingy self that was probably the last thing you wanted. So he manned up, got his shit together. An unusual thing for him to say about himself, but he was in an unusual situation.
After shrugging his leather jacket off and leaving it to hang on the coat rack, he swore to leave his aggression with it. Tucked into the pockets and zipped tight, so he might save it for his next mission. There was no use in bringing shit like that into his home, where his girl was. So he’d let it gather like lint until the next time he washed it, then he’d let his conscience run through a spin cycle; in which he meant watching you do three little spins before settling into bed. You were better than any washing detergent, cleaned his slate better than disinfectant. They should sell your personality in stores, bottle your giggles for junkies to get hits off. You could be the next meth with how happy you made him, had him flying high as a kite.
And he’d made you so sad. He was your daddy, it was his job to keep you safe, not sad. Now he had to fix that.
Your playpen. It was a puppy’s dream to get the luxuries you did, most likely. Leon couldn’t help but spoil you with everything soft, plush and velvet. It matched you. And watching you lay in front of the window, squeaky toy mid squeal lodged between your jaws lazily, was worth all the money in the world to him. Everything you did drove him nuts, he was starting to realise why so many people suggested getting a hybrid. Leon hadn’t understood what the deal was until you arrived. And now? Oh, he needed a lobotomy at this rate, because all he could think of was you. Work? You. Driving? You. Hell, his breaktime at the office made him miss the way you’d yell ‘Are you doneeeeee?’ at him from down the hall, awaiting your allocated cuddle time. You had him chasing his own tail, and he didn’t even have one.
Draped in a paw-print blanket and stuffed full of toys, the sides of your food and water bowl lovingly chewed on. Always sinking those canines into whatever you could. Well, whatever you could that wasn’t out of the question. Shoes were a big no no, the sprinkler system too, Leon was sure to make that clear. Not like the water tasted any good from it, anyway.
With a quiet grunt (he really wasn’t getting any younger) he slowly kneeled down, denim brushing over varnished wood, peeking through the open gate of your pen. Despite having both feet on the ground - well, rather two knees - this still felt risky to him. Not like disarming a bomb, more like negotiating a hostage situation. Taking your hand in his own to lead you away from himself.
He kept his voice soft, quiet, as gentle as someone of Leon’s stature and nature could be. Like asking a wolf to hide its fangs, but he did his best.
“Hi there, darlin’.”
He always did his best with you.
Well, almost always.
No answer. Just the sound of your meek panting, sniffling between breaths. Tears making every inhale salty in your nose and on your tongue. You always preferred it sweeter. He hated being the reason your mouth felt off, watching you run your pink tongue along your cheeks as if trying to get the taste out. At least you were still awake. Amidst the darkness of your cage he could see you buried under a mountain of blankets, digging yourself in like a tick. Head burrowed in tight, he felt like even if he tried to gently coax you out by the body you’d keep shuffling along into the plush. He’d have to stop this from the root, twist and pop you out gently. So he tried that with words.
“You wanna come out of your little cave there?”
The brief whimper that passed your lips was enough of an answer for him, no words had to be spoken for him to catch on. He sighed.
“Yeah, I guess that’s fair enough. Daddy was a bit of a dick, huh?”
The slight movement under piles of pink and yellow told him your tail was wagging, and that made his heart hurt even more. It was bleeding through his shirt at this point, darlin’. Don’t do that to him, he’s too old to deal with this kind of pain. Might just kill him one of these days. Because even after he’d snapped at you, broken down the walls of trust you’d both spent months building, you were still reaching out to place a new brick down. To keep it all from crumbling. Leon rested his palms on the scuffed denim of his jeans. Sure, he’d done his schooling, graduated and all that, but now he found himself searching the corners of his mind for the right words. Like he was putting a puzzle together, trying to piece syllable to noun to verb until they clicked. But they didn’t exactly click. Then again, nothing ever did with Leon.
Except you.
“I didn’t.. Mean what I said. I just cut myself off at the worst time possible. I wasn’t thinking. Da-” he paused himself for a moment. Fuck, it’d become a bad habit. Was it still okay to call himself something like that in this kind of situation? “I’m not very good with words. M’ better with actions, y’know. Making things, helping people. I’m not exactly a wordsmith here, darlin’.”
There was a rustle. In the darkness of your pillows and blankets you found room to move. And he could tell it was closer to him from how the pile slouched in his direction, indicating the shifting of your body. You looked a bit like a molerat to be honest, an adorable one, or one of those prairie dogs, with the way your head makes an evident dent in the covers. He wouldn’t tell you that, though. Might take it the wrong way.
Out pops your fluffy ears, the silhouette of your tearful face. His stoic demeanour over the years shatters like that same photo frame, how the hallway’s dim lighting catches in your glossy eyes. It’s like looking at the moon in all her solemn sadness, amongst the stars, alone.
He can’t leave you like that.
“Hi, baby.” It’s a whisper. He’s too scared if he talks any louder you’ll huddle back up. He never wants to make you worried, or frightened, or anything really. He loves you just the way you are.
“Hi..”
Leon had no idea how much he’d missed that voice until he heard it for the first time after a long lonesome 20 minutes of silence. It’s an icepick to his frozen mind, chipping away those worries he had of you maybe never talking to him again. You were a sweet thing, but also sensitive. It was part of the reason he cared for you so deeply. You’d dug down under his skin, doggy-paddled through his blood stream and settled comfortably right on his heart.
“..Are you gonna, y’know,” Through the dark haze of shadows and soft rain against the windows, he could see you fiddling with your fingers. You’re nervous. Voice small and isolated, muffled through your soundproofing of comfy blankets and soft stuffies. It only made his head ache more. “Take me back?”
That one threw him off guard. He wasn’t expecting that kind of question, if anything he thought you’d ask if you were still in trouble. “Back? Back where?”
“..The shelter.”
He couldn’t see his own face, but he could just imagine how it twisted in confusion. “What? No, darlin’.”
“Oh..”
Yeah. Oh. So that’s what all of this had been about. It wasn’t just him yelling, it was the thought that you might get boxed up and shipped back. Kicked to the curb. Leon pictured it again, your shivering frame on the street, or back in that damp kennel surrounded by yelling dogs and strict meal times. “Why the hell would you think that?”
“Cause I broke something, and I was too rowdy.. I can’t sit still..”
The very reason he’d adopted you in the first place was to save you from that life, one of struggle and pain and sadness, yet you still feared it. Solely for, what, acting like a puppy? The very thing you were a hybrid of? If he weren’t so worried about you he’d be pissed at the world in all honesty.
“Baby, is that how you ended up there? Did someone..” He had no time to finish that question before you were nodding. You looked so ashamed, it ripped him in two. Someone had shoved his heart through a paper shredder and used the strips to line a hybrid play-pen floor.
Returned, handed off, a hand-me-down. That’s what you saw yourself as. Damaged goods. His voice cracked as he muttered softly, his face painted in nothing but sympathy. “Oh, puppy..”
Almost instantly a ball of fluff came barrelling out of the playpen right into Leon’s chest, a winded ‘oof!’ puffed from the man’s ribs. Could’ve cracked them with the force of your love. Softer than any cannon ball, fuzzier than any bullet. Yet you still managed to have him coughing out a chuckle, his nose nuzzling up into your hair. He couldn’t help but breathe out a sigh of relief. Because it was a sure sign that you didn’t hate him.
“There’s my girl.”
A meek whine bubbled up from your throat at the sheer joy of being back in your owner’s embrace, enveloped in his comforting smell. And Leon couldn’t resist resting his chin on your head as you sat crumpled in his lap. A scarred-over hand brushing through your hair, rubbing bruised thumbs over the soft velvet of your ears. Every touch, every loving gesture had your tail whipping against the floorboards. You truly were his good girl. Still sniffling, you tilted your head in that sweet puppy way to look at him properly, taking in the face of the man who you loved more than anything; yes, that included treats, walks, and toys. It was quite the accomplishment, an honour really. Leon should be proud of himself for that one.
“M’ sorry..”
There it was again, always saying sorry for things you didn’t mean to cause. Sometimes things you didn't even do. He shook his head at even the thought of that. Not scolding, but shushing. Like he didn’t want to hear you apologise for something that was hardly your fault. “Sweetheart, hey. It’s alright. I can always get a new picture frame, it’s no problem. What I can’t get is a new puppy. Wanna know why?”
Of course you did, that was a silly question. But he loved watching your ears flop as you nodded, made his pulse flutter like he had a butterfly in his veins, or a hummingbird. Humming away to the steady thrum picking up in pace. “Cause there’s only one you. And frankly, I’ve already called dibs, so I’m not givin’ you up for anything.”
That seemed to settle something in you, the pace of your tail picking up to its regular happy thump. Large hands encased either side of your head to brush over your fluffy ears, the velvety texture smooth under years of scarred tissue. And that fresh cut he had yet to bandage up. That could be done later, though. Right now he was more focused on plastering a hello-kitty bandaid over your heart. Leon was bad at this stuff, real bad. If there was a class for hybrid owner’s he’d have been expelled in seconds, set a new world record. Because even after having you with him for months he had to admit, he still had no idea what he was doing. He wanted to make that clear, no point in lying to you.
Gravelly voice turned smooth and soft, someone had put his whiskey rocks through a blender. He was a slushy now because of you. A messy, overpriced, alcoholic slushy.
“But I wanna try my hardest to make you feel loved here. Because believe me, you are. You and all your.. Energy, let’s say. You’re my fluff ball, aren’t ya?”
He doesn’t need words, words aren’t a strong suit for either of you. So he settled for the affectionate lick to the cheek you gave him, followed by your high pitched whine when you snuggled down into his lap with wiggling hips. Makes a huff of laughter rumble from his chest, not like the thunderous yelling you once heard. This was that of a car’s slow movement, of white noise to sleep.
Because at the end of the day you were each other’s peace.
Lips press to your hair in a gentle manner, and Leon found himself nuzzling his nose down against your own.
“Yeah you are. You’re daddy’s best girl.”
It’s a balm for the wounds on your soul, settling into his arms like you were made for them. Manufactured with his name printed across your heart where no-one could see it, you’d just had to find him. And now you had, and he had no intention of letting you go. If he could, he’d velcro you to his body.
Yeah, Leon swore he’d never let you go.
And he might be a bastard at times, but he made good on his promises.
The next week you were walking past the hall of photos, the one Leon commissioned of you and him out in the backyard was already hung. The outtakes of you sprinting off to chase a squirrel mid-shutter are his to keep tucked in his wallet, though. For the longer work days or boring lines at the DMV, all that shit.
But the formal one, the proper one, is right above the new frame you insisted on decorating for his graduation photo. Complete with smiley stickers and paint and hearts he’d carefully exacto-knifed around to give a clear view of his picture. You’d jumped around like a bouncy ball when he was cutting the excess sticky paper away, little yaps of ‘Is it done?! Is it finished?! Can I see it?!’ like you hadn’t been the one to seal it in glitter glue in the first place.
And honestly, he loved it. Like you were leaving your pawprints on his past, making a new path of swaying tails and giggling fits to lead him with a tugging leash into his brighter future. Like you were meeting an older version of him. One before he became a little more bruised, a little more cold. But you’d helped chip that down with your tugging paws and cute canines.
He was softer now. And he’d decided yes, that was a good thing. Meant he was more suited for you, more tender with you.
“C’mon, babygirl. Wanna go for a walk?” He already knows the answer. But watching you skitter on your feet to sprint towards him never gets old. Wagging tail and voice chirping.
“Can we get a pup cup on the way back? Please?”
Because if that freshly appointed rookie cop version of Leon could meet you, he’d be just as in love with you as he is right now.
“Aw I’m not made of stone now, am I sweetheart?”
And he’d agree, that new frame looks much better.
Consider buying me boba!
#leon kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy#leon scott kennedy#leon s. kennedy#leon s kennedy x reader#resident evil x reader#x reader#leon x reader#leon kennedy thirst hours#leon s kennedy x you#leon s. kennedy x reader#leon scott kennedy x reader#leon scott kennedy x you#leon kennedy fanfic#leon kennedy x y/n#leon kennedy x you#leon kennedy fic#leon s kennedy x y/n#leon s kennedy fanfic
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Cuteness Overload
Just saw the movie. What a masterpiece. And (spoiler warning) I'm glad they did Charles Martinet justice even though I still think it should have been him voicing Mario. And of course, I'm in love with Jack Black's portrayal of bowser, excellent representation of a good creepy and psychotic villain that stole the entire movie. I loved it so much I'm writing a Y/N fic (My favorite little hoe, but this time is more on the platonic side). This contains a huge spoiler for the movie, specifically the ending. I'd recommend to watch the movie first.
Next Parts: 2, 3, 4, 5
So, a couple of weeks ago your entire neighborhood got destroyed because of some epic anime battle that just casually happened over there. How cool is that? Or how horrible, because thanks to that you just have to take the biggest detour ever known to man to get to work. But hey, at least you had a nice walk.
You getting into the mushroom kingdom was entirely by accident. Yes, you were curious about that new world but never had the time or will to go on a transdimensional travel. Thank goodness there was an open sewer hole laying there (which you completely missed) to help you take the initiative.
If you didn't took into account that nightmarish journey through the tunnels, the Mushroom Kingdom was a pretty interesting place to be. The toads were very friendly and kind fellas, some of them carefully checking you out for injuries and advising you to go see the princess in order to help you get safely home.
Okay, forget about the journey through that cosmic rabbit hole, going up to the castle was way worse. You didn't remember having exercised that much, not even in P.E. You swore your vision was blurry after all that.
Princess Peach was the most loving, kindhearted badass you had the pleasure to meet. That kind angel sent down from heaven upon seeing your miserable state, generously offer you to step in for tea and pastries, while the royal doctor (another toad but this cutie came with a stetoscope and a labcoat) made sure you didn't had seriously injured yourself with the fall.
As dignified and courteous she tried to act. It was obvious she was very excited to meet another person from Brooklyn. Soon you found yourselves engaged in conversation. It felt easy talking to her, like you were talking to an old friend. You suddenly felt very glad you didn't see that sewer hole.
Mario and Luigi stopped by as well, and the second they opened their mouths you recognised them as those two dudes from that dope ass commercial. So they were the ones that were in the middle of the battle in Brooklyn. Good for them, you were glad things turned out great.
You were having the time of your life, they were really chill and easy going people, which put you more at ease. As time passed, you heard the faint sound of a piano being played. When you asked your new friends about it, they just shrugged and Princess Peach gave you a half smile saying that it was her "pet turtle".
Whoah. This was truly a magical place. Her pet turtle played the piano?? And very well by the sound of it. Peach asked you if you wanted to see it. Of course you wanted to see it! Mario and Luigi gave each other uncertain looks, but in the end they just shrugged it off.
After a long walk through the hallways you finally reached a room. The toad guards immediately stepped away when they saw their ruler approach, but gave you a look full of suspicion. Peach softly reassured them.
She opened the door for you and let you in. The room wasn't any different from the castle except that it was completely devoid of any furniture but a single golden cage with THE TINIEST TURTLE PLAYING THE TINIEST PIANO YOU HAD EVER SEEN.
Said turtle was now looking perplexed and midly annoyed that it had been interrupted, but its eyes lighted up when they landed on Peach, who suddenly looked very done and tired. But how could you notice when its mere sight alone was too much for you to bear.
It was SO CUTE. SO DARN CUTE. Cuteness overload. You had died and were sent to adorable heaven where tiny turtles played teeny tiny pianos. You made sure to tell it that several times, making Mario burst out laughing. And it got even better from that moment, because out of that turtle mouth came the most colorful collection of threats and insults in a HIGH PITCHED voice that made your heart melt. Because of course it, he, had a high pitched voice. That only made you gush out more, you loved animals but specially you absolutely adored reptiles.
Mario was literally holding himself against the wall to keep himself from falling for laughing so hard. Luigi was cry laughing and Peach was trying to cover her face, but it was clear that from the way her shoulders rose and went down that she was practically wheezing.
You asked Peach if you could hold him for a while, to which she seriously, or at least she tried to sound serious in the middle of all that laughter, answered that it was too dangerous to let him out. But how could something as darling as that do any wrong? Peach gently pulled you out of the room, but not before you let out a "Bye bye, piano playing turtle, I love you." To a very blushing and mortified turtle.
Turns out that the turtle had comitted war crimes. Very bad war crimes. And even though he was still a little cutie to you, he got what he deserved and shouldn't be let out under any circumstances. Still, you were def going to visit him again.
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i've got the blu ray for volume 1 playing and i'm watching the behind the scenes video and Monty explicitly spells out how important collaboration with other creatives was in building RWBY, saying how he wanted to work with Kerry and Miles on it in creating the world and how he mostly gave them broad strokes. and it's mentioned how they all put the show bible together - i'm gonna put the whole transcript for the video under the cut (which i'm having to do myself because no one has uploaded this video anywhere as far as i can tell and there's no fucking subtitles)
Monty Oum [Creator and Director]: It’s the stories I’ve always wanted to tell versus the idea I came up with about, a little over a year ago. And we were talking about doing another show, and I just kind of half-asleep came up with the idea of a color rule for a bunch of characters. The red, white, black and yellow color scheme was something that was very prominent even in my previous work, so I started matching names up, matching ideas up. Also thinking about like, some of the ideas I’d stored up over the years. At some point or another the word ‘RWBY’ came to me.
Monty: Starting the show out originally, I designed the original character, Ruby, as well as going into the other characters. So once I had the first trailer done, and thinking about the rest of the characters for the show, I started bringing in other artists who I had watched for years. People I’d always said “someday I’ll work with them, someday I’ll have them design for me.” And when I was certain about having certain characters, I first contacted an artist I admired and found over DeviantArt. Her name was Ein Lee, she’s actually from Taiwan, and I found her art probably well over five years ago, and just loved her art style, and therefore wanted to incorporate it into my characters. So, I would do rough designs for team RWBY as well as designs for team JNPR, and she would flesh that out to be even further. To the point where eventually I didn’t need to design characters anymore, she started designing a bunch of the rest of the characters down the line.
Monty: The second person I brought on to RWBY was Kerry, because we had just been having conversations about the kind of show we could make. I’d been working with Miles on Season 10. He was writing scenes while I was making scenes, and so the three of us would have a lot of meetings and collaborate on the show to the point where I just started coming up with the broad strokes eventually and they had pretty much written the bulk of the show. Collaboration’s a big deal here, and I tried to include as many people as I can.
Kerry Shawcross [Co-writer]: Right after RvB ended, we wanted to just go straight into RWBY, but that was like right when we were going into commercial season. So we would work our normal hours here. Like 10 to 7-ish, then we would go back to one of our apartments and just start writing.
Miles Luna [Co-writer]: Monty really was enthusiastic about having these characters that may appear really one-dimensional for like the first few scenes that you see them, but the longer you get to know them, you realise “Oh, Yang isn’t just a dumb blonde party girl. She’s a very caring and nurturing girl, that has had to essentially be there for Ruby when she was young.”
Kathleen Zuelch [Producer]: When Monty and Miles and Kerry came to me, and really took me through the story. I started becoming a huge believer, because I’m a big fan of old school, traditional fairy tales, I love the Brothers Grimm, I love all the Snow White, and I love Little Red Riding Hood. I grew up with all of those stories, and the way that they were very clever in creating this whole world that’s kind of making homage to all of these amazing stories really inspired me to get more on board with what they wanted to do with this whole anime show.
Taylor McNee (née Pelto) [Art Director]: The world of RWBY, it looks very familiar. We wanted a blend of very classic looking architecture and clothing and cars, but we’re also mixing in this really kind of futuristic feel, like these little touches of some really futuristic stuff like holograms and things that you wouldn’t find in a classic [inaudible]. And that’s how we’re making this world unique. Our assets have to go through this pipeline of concept, modelling, texturing, and then finally being able to be put into the 3D program. So we start out with the concept and we usually bring that image into Maya, which is the main 3D software that we use. We have to make a 3D model that looks exactly like the concept that we were given, and it’s quite a process. Basically, we’re pushing polys and extruding stuff until we make the perfect shape, then afterwards we have to UV unwrap it, and then lay everything out on a texture sheet and then paint it, and that will put the image on the model. After that we’re basically done with the model and texture, and then we have to give it to the animators. So then we will set it up in Poser so the animators can grab it and use it for their characters.
Gray Haddock [Lead Editor]: There’s a lot of people working on this show, and there’s a lot of different elements in the pipeline. Editorial kinda serves as a hub between all the different departments, so we help all the communication and coordination between all the different pieces of the show, depending on what part of development that they’re in. Editorial’s getting involved way early in the process, we work alongside the director and the writers and the storyboard artists, and we use the scripts to help develop the storyboards and the camera angles for all those boards. So editorial is responsible for building up the moments of any given scene in terms of the timing and what you wanna look at, at any given moment. So we take the script and we help develop the camera angles and how long you wanna linger in a particular camera angle, look at one character or another or the scene as a whole, and the rhythm of the scene in terms of how long is it gonna take to spend on a particular line or when you want the music to come in, things like that. So we build up a set of animatics with the storyboards, and the first pass of all the audio. This is what then is handed off to the animators, so they can know exactly what is in what shot and how long do they have to animate it in a given shot. And once they’re done animating and their shot’s been approved, then their shot goes to the render farm, we get the rendered shot back and we drop it into the timeline for our episode and finesse the cut a little bit if we have to. But for the most part, we’ve done our job right and everything should pretty much be locked in for the most part by the time we’re getting animation.
Kerry: What’s kinda interesting as we’re creating the characters is, we kinda knew what kind of character they’d be. We knew Ruby would act a certain way, we knew Weiss would act a certain way, but we didn’t really know much about them. So we would get to the point where we’d be figuring out plotlines or figuring out dialogue and we’d be like “What would Weiss say here? What would Nora say here?” And then it turned into “Oh well now we know.”
Miles: Obviously we put a lot of thought into Ruby, Weiss, Blake and Yang before we started writing the dialogue. I remember sitting upstairs and we made a show bible, and we’re starting- we talked about likes, dislikes, personality traits. One of the first things I remember making was “Weiss drinks coffee. Blake drinks tea.”
Kerry: It’s important. It sounds not important at all, but it’s very important. It says so much about them
Miles: But it’s so important. So much about them, also it says nothing about them. It was just like- that’s just what it is.
Monty: I want the show to have resonance with people who are growing up. Cos everyone’s story is the story of kind of becoming who they are. Especially these days when the path of becoming who you are tends to be marginalised with reality. Having done what I’ve done, where I’ve essentially dropped out of high school, started learning this stuff on my own, and therefore land in a position where I get to take the things I was dreaming about when I was growing up and make it real. I tend to get a lot of response from people who are also not sure what they’re meant to become, a lot of them also have the same bright imaginations and with the way the world is, the hardships of what it means to grow up tends to marginalise who you are, and I would hate that to happen to anyone because the future is in creativity and that’s not something you can just manufacture. I actually would like this show to grow up with the people, so unlike most shows where they tend to be ageless or age very slowly, I’d like our fifteen-year-old fans watching fifteen-year-old Ruby, when they’re twenty-five, to be watching twenty-five-year-old Ruby, and to actually have some resonance with the character. Probably one of my favourite types of feedback is to say “I know this person” or “this person is just like me,” and that’s probably one of the best things about coming up with these characters.
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dudeeee ik ur reqs are open so why not give this a shot and see what u think abt it! since the new agatha trailer came out I CANNOT STOP THINKING ABT HERRRJDID!! so this is abt her! (plus love ur agatha content!! ive read all of em ALL OF EM)
so.. what abt a AU where agatha is the reader's manager and the reader is a famous actor? this could lead to a dark fic or just a wholesome light one! whichever u prefer ill leave it up to u!
~p.s i hope ur feeling better!! have a nice day and feel free to ignore this if u want to^^
a/n: first off, i love ur energy so much omg, and also SAME! the trailer goes through my mind 24/7 and i’m not mad about it! ooooo i love this idea!! definitely have to take creative liberties bc i’ve sadly never been famous😔 word count: 2.6k warning(s): fun fact: i am making all of these things up, if you're secretly an actor keep everything i did wrong in this fic to yourself - slight jealous!Agatha - friends to coworkers to lovers - agatha definitely knows how to communicate - all movies and characters mentioned in this are worlds/stories i have written- kinda rushed ending but then again i feel like everything is rushed - i really hope you like this! thank you so much for the ask and i am feeling a bit better 🫶🏻 - i really can't write kissing my apologies
i was the saint, you used to adore me
You remember when you first hired Agatha.
You were just beginning to dip your toes into the pool of acting, cautiously testing the waters by sending out your less than perfect resume to anyone who would accept. Agatha was the first, and only, acting manager to respond. She too was new to her field, so far only representing people who specialized in car commercials and medicine ads. She wanted a change of pace and your lack luster resume spoke to her. Some part of you still wanders why she picked to represent you, even though in the end everything worked out incredibly well, you wanted to know why she wanted to work with you.
Because now it seemed like she wanted nothing to do with you.
At the beginning, it was like the two of you couldn't be seperated. Outside of work hours, many movie nights happened, sometimes an excuse for Agatha to show you her favorite directing and acting techniques, sometimes an excuse for you to binge watch Sandra Bullock's entire cinematography. You would fill her inbox with emails of dream roles, she would fill yours with links to acting classes if the number of emails in her inbox from you exceeded 1,000.
She was your best friend.
You missed her.
If you had to pinpoint the time when she started drifting away, it was right after you landed your breakout role of Aerin Fey in the movie Pillars, which became a boxoffice hit, making nearly three times the production cost in theaters. Soon, your portrayal of the multiversal anti hero was on billboards, had sequels and contracts signed, had custom dolls on toy store shelves. It was everything you wanted, seeing little girls inspired by you as you either walked down a red carpet or passed them in the grocery store. You loved signing autographs in the signature Agatha and you spent nights perfecting. You loved taking pictures with fans, almost equally as excited as they were, after all your dream was coming true.
All you wanted was to share these moments with your closest friend but soon Agatha started only filling the manager role in your life. No longer did she appear at your door bearing tubs of ice cream to celebrate a role you had been offered, no longer did she let you cry when you lost a role you had been desperate for. Your texts and emails became dry, only notifying you of roles she had sent your portfolio in for or sending you calender invites for interviews and late night show appearances.
All this was swirling in your head as you scrolled through your old texts with Agatha, your eyes becoming watery as you went further into the messages. You sat in your living room on your large couch, a purchase Agatha practically had to force you to confirm. You still didn't understand why you needed such a large couch or house for that matter, as you were the only one living in the space. It was damn comfortable though. You let yourself sink into the cushions, your mind running wild with theories as to why Agatha suddenly cut your friendship off. Sure, you two would keep a professional appearance when seen together on the carpet but you were absolutely certain people noticed the tense atmosphere between you.
"Bitch if you don't answer this door right now I'm going to assume you're dead and call every TMZ reporter here!"
The voice of your co-star turned friend Wanda Maximoff interupted your self pity episode, making you realize that the pounding you had subconsciously been hearing wasn't a sad theme song your mind created for you. No, it was the furious knocking of the red head. You reluctantly got out of your comfy spot, slightly taking Wanda's threat seriously. You opened your door, revealing your friend holding a folder with Pillar's studio name printed on the side and a bottle of champagne. You nodded to the bottle.
"Where's the rest?"
Wanda laughed, nudging her way into your home, bumping your shoulder with hers.
"Oh so it's that kind of day."
Wanda took her place on your couch, setting the bottle on the coffee table and crossing her legs with the folder in her lap. She patted the spot next to her on your couch, a smile wide on her face.
"Now come on, we have to make sure we know the answers to questions and what not to answer!"
You groaned at the reminder of your TV appearance tomorrow. Which also meant enduring the new cold demeanor of your be-manager. Wanda seemed to read your face as you made your way to sit back on the couch. She patted your knee once you were sat, her face a mix of pity and a bit of anger for your sadness.
"Is Agatha still acting weird?"
You nodded while staying silent, not wanting to cry in front of one of your only real friends. Not yet at least.
"God that's so stupid honestly. The least she could do is tell you what's going on instead of acting like a fourth grader who's favorite swing is being used during recess. I know you love her Y/N, I'm sorry."
You both laughed and choked at Wanda's words.
She was right, you loved Agatha. You've loved her since the first time you met her and your feelings only grew and intensified as your partnership continued throughout the years.
But you'd never say it outloud. That would make it real. And if it was real, that meant the woman you loved hated you and you had no idea why.
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Agatha was leaning against the wall of your dressing room, her eyes glued to her phone as she typed furiously. You watched her in the mirror as your hair stylist put the finishing touches on the style that was supposed to look effortless. Almost as if she could feel your stare, Agatha looked up from her phone to meet your eyes in the mirror. You felt heat rise up to your cheeks as your own eyes widened, standing up a little to quickly. Realizing once you were up that you didn't have a reason for such a reaction.
Wanda burst into the dressing room, her red dress sparkling in the light.
"They want us to walk on stage together, shall we?"
Wanda held out her elbow for you to hold on to, winking in an exaggerated way. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Agatha's intense glare at Wanda but decided that you weren't going to let your manager's weird behavior affect this interview. You hooked your arm through Wanda's, playing along.
"We shall!"
Agatha followed behind the two of you, her stare burning into the back of your neck as the two of you walked onto the stage, cuing the raging applause and cheers from the audience. Agatha stayed off-stage, watching with crossed arms and an expression that could take down the toughest of tough.
The lights were burning and bright as you and Wanda took a seat next to each other across from the interviewer. You immediately regretting your choice in seat as Agatha stood across from you in the wings, her stare like ice as it stuck to your skin. Taking a deep breath, you plastered on a wide smile as you were introduced. Purposefully ignoring Agatha, you focused on how the interviewer angeled her body towards Wanda, indictating who she would be asking a question to first.
"Ok, I got to say," Darcy Lewis, the host of this show, threw her hands in the air as if she was giving a confession, "I can't ask any questions about the movie until I get confirmation about something that's happened in your life recently, Wanda."
Wanda smirked, obviously understanding where Darcy was going, You, however, were confused, your eyes flickering between Darcy, Wanda, Agatha, and the audience, hating the feeling. Your smile stayed plastered on, not wanting to reveal your confusion. Wanda met your eyes and reached over to cover your hand with hers, her left hand on top almost purposefully. You looked down to see a beautiful ring with a braided band of gold set with a sparkling diamond of reasonable size.
"Oh my god!" You gasped out, grasping Wanda's hand and bringing it embarassingly close to your face. Wanda and Darcy laughed, the latter clapping as her vague question was answered in a hilarious way.
"I can't believe it's taken you this long to notice!" Wanda laughed out, tugging her hand back to marvel at her ring herself, "I've only been parading it around for a week!"
You flushed with embarassment, a real smile painting your lips as you covered your face with your hands. After the crowd calmed down, Wanda confirmed outloud what the ring symbolized.
"A little over a week ago, my long time partner, who I met on this set by the way, proposed to me in the park we had our first date. Oh, he was so nervous but I couldn't let him finish his speach I was so excited! Obviously I said yes."
You wanted to give your friend a giant hug but decided against climbing over the arms of the chairs, choosing to keep your dignity as you didn't want your dress to ride up too much.
Darcy continued with the interview, the air of the stage light and friendly as you and Wanda evaded questions and made jokes about being trapped in these roles until you're 90. You realized once the interview was almost over that you couldn't feel Agatha's stare on you anymore. Since you had been actively avoiding the spot she was standing in the whole time, you hadn't notice her slip away. A spark of anger lit in your chest as memories floated around your mind. What had you done that she deemed worthy enough to sever your relationship?
You were surprisingly thankful when the interview was over, everything becoming a blur as you made it back home. Wanda had a date with her fiance, Vision but told you that she wanted to get coffee the next morning. You already knew you would be needing that coffee, as you had a few pages of script to begin memorizing for a cameo scene you were doing for a spin-off show of Pillars.
You wanted to just curl up on your couch and binge watch old Disney movies but you forced yourself to walk in circles around your living room, script in hand as you acted out your scenes. A few hours in, you were getting frustrated. Your mind just wouldn't grasp the script, each line entering your mind quickly but leaving even quicker. You were about to learn how to use your fireplace just to burn the papers when your door shook with someone knocking. It was rapid, almost desperate and it sent a sense of urgency pooling in your gut. You practically ran to your door, afraid of what you would see on the other side. Did someone die? Oh god, hopefully Wanda and Vision didn't break up that would be awful-
The door swung open.
It was Agatha.
Her eyes were ablaze with an emotion you couldn't pin point, her hair was a mess but it only added to her beauty, and she was gripping her phone so hard in her hand that her knuckles were white.
You were frozen in the doorway, your eyes wide and your jaw slack. Agatha just stared back at you, her chest heaving as if she had ran all the way to your home. Blinking, you broke yourself from your trance, and against the voices in your head that sounded suspiciously like a specific redhead, stepped to the side to let Agatha in. She barged in, going to stand in front of the couch, arms crossed as she continued to stare at you. Wringing your hands, you decided you wanted to mend what was broken.
"I'm just practicing for the shoot in a week, would you help me? I can't seem to get-"
"Were you ever with Wanda?"
Her sudden question made you choke on your words and you were back to being frozen, the script falling dramatically from your hands. Agatha came to stand in front of you, her face inches from yours. Your tongue was heavy with shock and all you could do was shake your head in denial.
Why was Agatha asking this? Did she like Wanda? That would explain why she wouldn't be happy with you, as you had grown closer to the redhead throughout the years and Agatha didn't.
Something clicked in your mind, reversing your sinking stomach into nervous butterflies.
But if she liked Wanda, why would she be glaring at her? Unless, the person Agatha liked wasn't the now engaged redhead and was-
"Y/N, please, I need you to answer me."
Agatha voice contradicted her body language, her words broken and shaky, as if she was afraid of a potential answer. Her hands flexed in the postition of her crossed arms, as if she wanted to reach towards you. You took a deep breath, preparing your answer.
"Is this why you started avoiding me? Because you thought I was with Wanda? I've only ever been her friend, Agatha and we only grew as close as we are because you stopped talking to me! God, I thought you hated me!"
Agatha's eyes lost their iciness and filled with panic instead. Her hands shot out and grasped your arms.
"Hate? No, I love you! I though the giant annoucment at the interview would be that you were in a relationship with Wanda! I didn't want to ruin your relationship with her because of my feelings!."
You shrugged Agatha's hands off your arms and took a step back.
"So you ruined ours? All because you thought your feelings were unreciprocated?" Agatha's eyes lit up with hope at your words, "Wanda's been with Vision for years, all you had to do was open Google!" You had started to raise your voice towards the end, all your frustration being let out at once. Agatha shrugged sheepishly as she slowly stepped to once again be close to you.
"I didn't want to be right."
Agatha smiled nervously as she brushed a hair from your face.
"I didn't know what to do and I'm terribly sorry for how I acted. God, Y/N, it hurt seeing you with someone who wasn't me. I thought you just wanted to be friends. "
Her whispered apology melted away the ice that had been hardening your heart for protection and you reached up to cup her face in your hands. Agatha leaned into your touch, her eyes closing for a second before opening and almost blinding you with how much hope was shining towards you.
"I loved being your friend and it really hurt me when you took that away but," you smiled at Agatha, shifting to be even closer to your manager, "I would love to be even more."
Agatha smiled softly, her eyes saying everything her words couldn't. Her smile melted into a smirk as she leaned in, your hands falling from her face so your arms could wrap around her neck.
"I would really love to make up for lost time."
You barely had finished nodding before Agatha's lips crashed into yours, consuming you. Her hands now cradled your face as you kissed, her tongue battling with yours. She started walking, directing you towards the stairs, where the door to your bedroom taunted you with it being far. As the two of you stumbled up the stairs, laughter breaking the kiss, you felt Agatha tugging on your dress, the one you still hadn't changed out of. Soon, there was a trail of clothes leading to your bedroom and once you hit your bed, from the look in Agatha's eyes, you wouldn't be leaving it anytime soon.
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a/n: please tell me u liked this bc i loved writing it :) i love this AU idea and would love to expand on it in the future! i wanted this to be a one shot but the potential in this pairing could lead to a series 👀 thank you so much for reading!! hopefully my writing slump hasn't affected my writing too much but i'm going to keep practicing to get better!!
#agatha harkness#agatha harkness x reader#agatha harkness x fem!reader#agatha harkness fanfic#agatha harkness x you#manager!agatha#actor!reader#famous!actor
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An Verstappen one with “Did you ever really care about me?” and “Please stay.” Thank you
If You Cared (Part 1) | mv1
It's been years since you've indulged in a vacation. What better time is there than summer? Your family, the beach house in Italy-it seems perfect. But, for things to be just like good old times, your family needs to invite his. So of course you are having mixed feelings as the boy who broke your heart re-enters your life like nothing happened. Warnings: None Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader Word count: 2.1k Poetry style | Story style A/n: Hello! This story came to me as soon as I saw this request. I got so many ideas and I'm actually super excited to keep writing this. There will be more parts to follow, so keep a look out. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy! Part One|Part Two|Part Three|Part Four|Part Five
You always longed for the familiarity of summer.
It was by far your favorite season. Something about the warmth, the life, the atmosphere, the memories-something about it all brought you comfort. You were head over heels in love with summer. Or perhaps it was just more exciting this year knowing that you would go on a real vacation for the first time in a long while. “Let’s visit the beach house this year,” your mom had suggested. “Sure there is probably some dust in the corners, but it’s nothing we can't sweep off.”
When thinking of summer memories, the beach house in Elba, Italy, was the primary setting for all of them. From the time you were born until the time you moved out, your family would spend a handful of weeks there, drinking up the sun and inviting friends to visit. You learnt to swim in the pool behind the summer house. You learnt to cook in the kitchen of the summer house. You had your first kiss in the living room of the summer house. Right, that. Something you preferred not to think or talk about.
“Mom!” you wrapped her in a hug the second you could. After moving away from home to pursue work, you rarely saw her in person. You rarely had time to cook yourself dinner let alone come home. It would be nice to get away for a month-just you, your mom, your dad, your brother and sister and the Italian shores of Elba.
“How was your flight, my baby?” She asked, pulling your backpack from off your shoulders.
“Which one? The one from New York to Florence or the one from Florence to Elba?” As a child you always made a fuss about how secluded Elba was. It’s a small, mountainous island off the west coast. A small airport, no larger than the biggest grocery store in town, was all they had to offer. They didn’t take commercial flights from New York. Nope, you had to get on a small, ten person airplane with five other people and fly over that way. It was nostalgic, truly.
Your mom rolled her eyes. “Still dramatic as ever.”
You shrugged, a smile stamped on your face. “What can I say?”
“Let's go, your dad is at home making dinner. It should be ready when we arrive.”
Your heart felt so full, so satisfied. You felt like a child again, like a little girl viewing the world from innocent eyes. Your mom was carrying your backpack, your dad was making dinner. You wondered if they’d offer to tuck you in at night. This is what you needed the most, and you didn’t even realize it until you were in the passenger seat of your mom’s rental car, watching the coast of the island roll by in the dimming sun. New York was busy. It was loud and dirty. Elba was quiet. It was beautiful and clean.
This summer, you told yourself. I’m not going to have a single worry, not a single care in the world.
“The Verstappen’s are coming by next week.”
You almost choked on your food. “What did he just say?” Dinner on the patio was already off to a ravishing start.
You don't notice it-too busy dabbing the corner of your mouth with a napkin-but your mother swatted at your brother who held a smirk on his lips. He knew it would bother you and he also knew that mom hadn’t told you yet. He loved being the bearer of bad news. He loved pestering his older sister.
“You know, Max’s family?” He pushed on. “The boy who left you for cars-”
“Luca.” Your mom cut him off. “Enough.”
Silence hung over the table like it was a light fixture. Your dad and sister said nothing and you knew it was because those two were in favor of the Verstappen’s coming to stay. Hell, your dad was probably the one to extend the invitation. You knew your sister would back him up because she loved Victoria-the younger sibling of the two Verstappen children. Your brother obviously didn’t care. He idolized Max and his racing. It seemed like your mother was the only one on your side.
“Was nobody going to tell me until Max knocked on our front door one day?” You asked, cutting at the food on your plate.
“Max probably won't even be able to make it,” your mother tries to reassure you. “The only ones who have confirmed it are Sophie and Victoria. Ooh-Victoria is bringing the babies so that should be fun-”
“Are you just trying to calm me down, mom?” Again, the silence made itself known. You spoke first, shaking your head with an upside down smile. “You know what? I don’t care. Max or not, I’m here to have a good summer. No childhood crush or-”
“Childhood boyfriend who broke your heart.” Your brother corrected you. You kicked him from under the table, exerting an ouch from him.
“No childhood drama is going to interfere.” You finished.
“She's gone crazy.” Your sister whispered to your dad. You kicked her too.
“I’m going to have a good summer. Nobody will ruin that for me.”
And in the beginning, you did have a good summer. You spent your first full day in Elba catching up on jet lag. When you finally decided to roll out of bed at two pm, you went to the beach with your sister. The two of you had a chance to catch up, sitting on the sand with a small array of fruits to eat while you spoke. The weather was perfect, the ocean was calming, and you were reminded of how much you loved your younger sister.
“What did you do for the big twenty-two?” You asked, referencing her birthday that had preceded about three weeks prior.
She shook her hand, the grapes in her palm shifting. She picked out a bruised one, adding it to a small pile of other undesirable fruits. “Went out with some friends. I had an exam due that day though, so most of it was spent in my room working on that.”
College. Something you tried your hardest to avoid. All was futile, though. After only a few weeks in New York you realized you’d need it. “Sounds fun. Were you mad you had to leave all your friends for the summer?”
“No,” She popped a grape in her mouth. “I was excited to come back to the beach house.”
“Me too.”
“Can I start a conversation without you getting mad at me, y/n?”
You sighed. “If you start by saying that, then no.”
“How are you going to react if Max really does show up on Monday?”
It was your turn to search through the handful of strawberries you had. One strawberry had a large hole. The rest looked fine, you thought. Max. Right, that's where the conversation was. Max Verstappen. Your first crush, your first kiss, your first-boyfriend? Was it ever that? Really, you didn’t know what it was and what it wasn’t. He was Max, and you were y/n. That was all the facts you knew surrounding the two of you.
“I’ll be nice. I have no reason not to be.” You finally responded.
Your sister peeled her sunglasses off her face. She looked at you amusingly through her brow. “No reason? Really?”
A shrug lifted your shoulders. “What? Max and I were never dating.”
“Sixteen-year-old you would say otherwise.”
“Sixteen year old me was delusional.” You looked at the ocean in front of you. You were just a delusional child, right? Max was your first kiss. Max was your biggest crush. Max did break your heart. It’s pretty damn hard to break someone's heart when you’re not together, no? “I don’t care about Max anymore. If he comes, he comes. If he doesn’t? Then so be it. I really don't care, Mia.”
“Alright,” She said dismissively. “I guess we’ll find out.”
The two of you wouldn’t find out for another five days. During your time-waiting for the possible arrival of Max and his mom and sister-you explored the city, you occupied the beaches, you read some books, you went out on the boat with your brother and dad. Life was calm. There were no obligations you had to fill, no tasks at hand, no work to be done. It was you, the Italian sun, the ocean and the breeze. You seriously considered moving there. Mom would let you have the beach house, right? How could she say no to the oldest?
All was good. All was calm.
“Max is here, y/n!” Luca swung open the patio door, yelling at you with a smirk. You were lying on a lounge chair next to your sister-the both of you only wearing swimsuits as you tried to tan. “He’s a fine specimen.”
You picked up your hat from the ground and threw it at your teenage brother. “Fuck off, Luca.”
“I’m serious! Max, Victoria and Sophie are here.”
You looked over at your sister. “Go inspect.” You instructed her.
She groaned, standing up from her chair and wandering inside, not before slapping Luca on the back of the head, however. The two of them shut the door, a waft of cold air swiping across your body before disappearing. There was soft music playing from a speaker near the pool. If a car pulled up, you wouldn’t have been able to hear it. Maybe they were here, but was Max seriously with them? Did you want him here? Would it actually be easier without him here or did you want some fun this summer? Did drama entertain you? Maybe you just wanted something nice to look at while you were here.
The back door slid open. You were lying face down, the sun warming your back. You didn’t bother looking up, assuming it was Mia coming to deliver the news to you. It would be better if she didn’t see your face while telling you. Maybe you would be disappointed at the answer-whatever it may be. “Well? Is he here?” You asked, voice muffled by the lounge chair.
“Is this your hat?”
You looked up so quickly that you pulled a muscle in your neck. “Fuck.” You whispered to yourself, rubbing your fingers over the pain. Did you curse to yourself because Max was standing right infront of you, your ball cap balancing off his index finger, or because of the pain? Both, you decided. It was for both reasons.
“I’ll leave it,” He set it on the table next to you. “Here.”
“Thanks.” You readjusted yourself, sitting up on the edge of the chair. He definitely got a much better view of you than he was hoping for. You were older now, almost by ten years. Sixteen year old you and twenty five year old you looked a lot different. He figured that out pretty quick.
“Good to see you, y/n.” He smiled before turning on his heel to go back inside. His back was broad, his shoulders looked stiff. He had some stubble, but it suited him. He looked-good? No. Stop thinking like that. He probably had a girlfriend or something. He was a rich, famous, Formula One driver. No way he was single walking around looking like that.
“Right.” Nobody was around to hear you say it. So, nobody was around to hear you follow it up with, “What the fuck.”
Hesitantly, you picked up your ball cap, slipping your ponytail through the back. You walked inside, scanning the room before making any more steps forward. Mia and Victoria were in the living room. Sure enough, Victoria had brought her two children and husband. Mia was emitting plenty of ‘aww’s’ and ‘that is so cute’s’. Max was bringing luggage in through the front door. Great, they're planning on staying. Your brother shot you a smirk from where he sat at the kitchen bar. Told ya’ so.
“Max, how’d you manage time off from F1?” Your mother asked.
“It’s summer break,” He said matter-of-factly. “I don’t race again until late August.”
“So you’ll be here for the three weeks you mother and sister will be?”
Please say no, please say no, please say- “I plan to, yes.”
The sliding door snaps behind you as you let go of it. Everyone turns to look at your bikini clad figure. Victoria exchanges a concerning glance with your sister. Victoria’s husband looks at her, confused as to why there is such a thick tension in the air.
“Y/n, go shower and get dressed, we’re all going to dinner in a bit.” Your mother said, her lips pressing into a thin smile.
“Right.” You said, weaving past all the bodies. “I’ll go do that.”
Oh what a summer this was playing out to be.
#f1#f1 fanfic#f1 requests#f1 imagine#formula 1#max verstappen#verstappen#mv1#verstappen fanfic#verstappen ff#f1 x reader#verstappen x reader#mv1 x reader#Max Verstappen x reader#f1 series#f1 smut#Verstappen smut#max verstappen smut
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pls could you write another one shot off Rhea , Dom!Rhea x sub!Reader, with the prompt “Please mark me, I want everyone to know I’m yours.” btw your last one shot was just perfect 💜
Warnings: 18+ There is light smut in this! (Dom!Rhea, Sub!Reader, kissing, hickeys, oral and penetration mentioned, slight ownership) as well as a creepy man😔
A/N-This one is short and doesn't go very far so I'm sorry but please enjoy anyways. There will be another more detailed Rhea smut coming soon!
Word Count: 1,067
I waited backstage in the WWE arena for the night as my girlfriend, Rhea Ripley, fought against her former friend, Raquel Rodriguez.
Rhea had been on the road for over two weeks straight now, having her normal TV appearances along with house shows and PPVs so we hadn't seen each other in forever which gave me the grand idea to surprise her backstage at her last Raw show.
Dominik stood beside me as we watched Rhea on the screen before us. She was kicking Raquel's ass. And she looked smoking hot while she was doing it.
She wore her usual black bottoms with purple feathers and a cut-up T-shirt depicting herself on the front. She wore black knee-high boots that gave her an extra inch in height along with her famous 'Mami' choker as her hair swung wildly around her face.
A few minutes into Rhea's match, I felt a pair of eyes on me. Trying to turn my head around as discretely as possible, I saw a man staring at me from across the room. He looked like an average 45-year-old man but as he stared at me and we made direct eye contact, a chill washed over me and I got a bad feeling.
Dom looked over at me when I visibly shuddered, his eyeline shifting to see what I was looking at. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him stiffen before wrapping an arm around my shoulder and pulling me into his body in a side hug.
While Rhea and I weren't secretive about our relationship, some men had chosen to ignore it and occasionally go after me anyway when Rhea wasn't around to fend them off.
I relaxed into Dominik's side as we continued watching the match, cheering quite loudly once Rhea won and her title was returned to her.
As the screens went black, insinuating a commercial break, the man from before stepped in front of the screen, forcing me to look at him.
Dom's arm got tighter around my shoulder as the man spoke.
"Hey cutie, I was thinking that after the show tonight, we could go out and grab drinks?"
He was rubbing his hands together in a really sleazy way that made me uncomfortable.
But before I could answer him, someone behind me answered for him.
"She already has plans."
I turned around, a cocky smile now growing on my face as I saw my girlfriend standing there, pissed as hell.
The man was also now visibly pissed. "Well, I think the little lady here can speak for herself. You don't own her."
I beat Rhea to the response this time. "Actually, she does."
I slipped out from underneath Dominik's protective hold on me, sending him a suggestive wink as I twirled around feeling certain that he could hold his own against this man, moving towards Rhea.
Grabbing her hand, I interlaced our fingers and began to pull her down the hallway back to her dressing room.
Rhea walked ahead of me into the room as I closed the door behind us. She was seething as she paced the room in front of the couch. I locked the door to ensure we wouldn't be interrupted before walking up to her, placing a hand on her forearm causing her to stop in her tracks and look at me.
Anger and concern swirled in her eyes, mixed with a protectiveness over me. She stepped closer and held my hips in her hands. "Are you okay?"
I gave her a reassuring smile as I nodded up at her, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear and out of her eye.
Standing on my tiptoes, I brushed my lips against the column of her throat, dragging them across her throat over to her ear. "Please mark me, I want everyone to know I'm yours."
That seemed to ignite a flame in her as she immediately locked one hand around my throat, the other still on my waist, using the hand around my throat to guide me to the couch.
The backs on my knees hit the edge and I automatically sat down, looking up at her as I waited for her next command.
Her hand was still wrapped around my throat, just loose enough to let me breathe freely. Her thumb began to trace circles around my racing pulse as she got down on her knees in front of me.
She pushed my knees apart with the hand that was formerly on my hip, pushing herself between my legs to where her hips met the edge of the couch. The hand that clutched my throat let go and dragged down my front to the hem of my t-shirt. Well, really, it was Rhea's I had just stolen it to wear tonight.
I lifted my arms above my head in a show of consent for her to take my shirt off and she immediately took it off as fast as she could.
She stopped and stared at the lacey purple and black bra I'd worn for her and licked her lips, her tongue piercing catching the overhead light.
I grinned down at her as our eyes met and she laid a hand on my stomach, pushing me down against the cushions.
Her lips brushed against my skin all the way from my waist up to just underneath my chin as she teased me. Goosebumps grew along my body at her touch.
"God, I missed you," She murmured against my skin, getting only a moan from me in response.
What was left of her lipstick left stains on my skin as she kissed her way back down, savoring the feel of my pebbled flesh on her lips.
Having waited to be told to take off my bra, once it was finally off, Rhea rolled each of my nipples between her fingers as she left my boobs covered in bruises, marking her presence.
She left hickeys all down my body—the biggest ones between my thighs and on my collarbone. Not only just marking me, but claiming me as hers.
My favorite mark, however, was the one she left on the lip of my pussy just before taking my clit into her mouth and sucking as her three main fingers were inserted into me.
The moans she created in me could be heard outside the door and the hickeys were blatantly obvious if the stares and refusal of eye contact for the next few days were any indications. But I wouldn't have it any other way. Nothing beats belonging to Mami.
#rhea ripley#the judgement day#wwe raw#wwe#rhea ripley x reader#tjd x reader#the judgement day x reader#the judgment day#rhea ripley smut#rhea ripley imagine#mami rhea#the judgment day wwe#the judgment day x reader
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24 - He/she called for him/her in his/her sleep.
super quick and dirty. no edits, just need to grease the old writing gears. s8 for some reason even though i hate it.
She’s not afraid of flying. Being afraid would be irrational and she’s not an irrational person. Commercial air travel is orders of magnitude safer than driving, she knows. Especially safer than driving in the middle of the night on unlit backroads with a Mulder who hasn’t slept in 36 hours behind the wheel, which she’s done on multiple occasions. Experience does nothing to allay her fears. Even before arriving at Quantico, she’d racked up thousands of international air miles as a Navy brat. Seven years as Mulder’s partner tacked on thousands more.
And yet. And yet, she can’t rationalize away the surge of adrenaline she feels every time the engines start to fire up for takeoff. Recalling statistics doesn’t calm the drop in her stomach whenever the wheels rise off the tarmac and she feels the ground recede beneath her feet.
Early in their partnership, she cursed Mulder for being able to drift off to sleep in a cramped coach seat while she was left alone to white knuckle the armrest and monitor every rise and fall in altitude as if she knew enough to assign any significance to them. Of course, as the years went by, their hands would find each others and she’d be able to rest with her head on his shoulder.
Don’t fall asleep, she wills herself now. She doesn’t want to show any weakness in front of her new partner. She doesn’t trust Doggett yet. But somehow the first trimester fatigue catches up. Where is this deep exhaustion when she’s lying awake in bed in the middle of the night, her mind racing with fears for her child and guilt that she hasn’t found Mulder yet?
She twists the air vent all the way open hoping the cold air will keep her awake. The flight attendant offers coffee but she’s already had the single cup she’s allotting herself these days at home this morning so she asks for water instead which does nothing to allay her exhaustion.
As much as she despises turbulence she wishes this particular flight hit a few more bumps but instead it’s a smooth ride over a cloudless Midwestern sky that only makes her eyelids feel heavier and heavier.
Now she’s lying on Mulder’s couch, leaning her back against his chest. His arms wrap around her and he’s resting his hands on her belly, now heavy and round. His long fingers dance across the taut skin chasing a protruding foot or elbow. “Incredible,” Mulder says quietly, not so much to her or their baby but to himself. Slatted sunlight filters in through the window shades and she feels warm all over. Warm from the sun, Warm from her partner’s body wrapped around her own, warm from the life growing within her. She brings her palms to cover his, holding him in between herself and their baby.
Suddenly, the ground starts trembling beneath them. The window is wide open now and the soft sunlight has been replaced with an unnaturally bright glaring white glow. She feels Mulder’s body rising from behind her and watches helplessly as he drifts toward the window. She’s paralyzed on the couch, the weight of her belly pinning her down. “Mulder!” She tries to scream, but no sound escapes her throat and he keeps being pulled away from her. “Mulder!”
“Mulder!” She calls again. This time she hears her voice as her hand involuntarily reaches out for him.
But it isn’t Mulder next to her. His living room has dissolved into the cabin of a plane quaking with turbulence and she’s immediately mortified to find her fingers gripping John Doggett’s dry-skinned hand. She gasps and pulls her hand away but his eyes are already locked on hers.
“I’m sorry,” she mutters under her breath.
He gives her the grace of a silent nod and then turns back to the newspaper in his lap.
She’s too keyed up to sleep for the rest of the flight so she just stares at the casefile she brought to read. She can’t absorb a single word, though. Her mind is running in a loop berating herself for being stupid enough to let her guard down.
She avoids looking at Doggett the rest of the flight. When they land, he retrieves both of their bags from the overhead compartment and she whispers a quiet thank you.
“We’ll find him,” Doggett says stoically before turning his back to her and walking up the aisle as she follows behind.
She still doesn’t trust him, but she wants to believe him.
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All is Fair in Love and Snowball Fights
Alex x GN Reader
Author's Note: Writing for Alex has been making me happier than I expected. He's such a cutie. I hope I was able to give all the Alex lovers a sweet little fic to get you through the holidays 🖤
Synopsis: You and Alex are deeply unserious. From fake tiffs to ways to fight it out, it's always an event. By the way, watch out.
CW: Sickeningly sweet fluff (perhaps even a smidge corny but I couldn't help it), brief and unserious name calling, brief mention of Jodi x Kent angst, marriage discussion, I think that's everything
Word Count: 1.5k
Dividers by: @adornedwithlight (snowflakes) and @enchanthings (hearts) 🖤
🎄Ficmas Masterlist!🎄
Fluff under the cut!
Knock, Knock, Knock.
The front door to the Mullner’s swings open revealing a tiny frame. Warm brown sugar and cinnamon wafts into the chilly air outside, while the sound of a gridball game playing way too loud on an old tv floods your ears.
“Oh, hi dear!” The old woman smiles, her eyes crinkling at the corners.
“Hi, Granny Evelyn.” You grin back, always excited to see her. Evelyn had been the first person to make you feel welcome in the valley, and you always felt loved around her. It hadn't taken you long at all to start calling her “Granny” like she had suggested all the way back at your first meeting.
“Are you here to see Alex?”
“Not exclusively! I’m just here to see the Mullner’s,” you shake your head gently as a giggle leaves your throat.
“We always love to see you, honey. Although maybe soon you’ll be a Mullner yourself.” She covers her mouth and chuckles as your mouth falls open at her remark.
“Granny!!” You hushedly exclaim.
You hear the gridball game cut to commercial before a much taller figure walks to the door behind Evelyn.
“Granny, who’s there? Oh, hey babe!” Alex beams at you. “What were you guys talking about?” He questions, noticing the snickers you and Evelyn are still quietly exchanging.
“Nothing important, promise.”
He cocks an eyebrow at you but doesn't question any further.
Heading inside, you pop into the living room to say hi to George before leaving to the kitchen with Evelyn. A desperate attempt to avoid getting stuck watching the game for the second time this week.
“Come to help, dear?” Evelyn questions over her shoulder while washing her hands with cider scented soap.
“Of course! Always love to bake with you.” You lower your voice before continuing. “And I don't love watching gridball.”
You follow up your admission with a wink and the two of you giggle in agreement.
“We’ll be making cookies to drop off for Jodi. She’s been having a hard time with Kent gone. I thought maybe it would bring her and those boys a little bit of joy.” She explains.
It had been noticeable even for a newer resident such as yourself that Jodi had been struggling this holiday season, but had been trying her best to keep going for Sam and Vincent. You hoped even a small gesture such as this would make her truly smile, if only for a moment.
The time you’d been spending with Evelyn in the kitchen was evident as the pair of you began working. Expertly whipping up a perfect batch of sugar cookies and icing for decoration.
As you’re chatting and carefully frosting the gift, a hand inches its way to the plate of finished cookies in front of you.
“Uh-uh. Back away.” Your voice is stern despite the smirk finding the corners of your lips.
“Told you it wouldn't work, Gramps.” Alex shouts to the living room.
“Darn. A man can’t even get a cookie in his own house!” He scoffs, wheeling his chair into the kitchen.
“Those cookies aren't for you, George. You know Jodi needs a pick me up.” Evelyn reminds her husband.
The elderly man huffs, before taking a breath to argue his point.
“And we always make you cookies,” You cut in. “Is your husband away at war?”
Evelyn continues to tell George off while he mutters about not getting his way.
Alex wraps his arms around you from behind. “Hey, wanna go for a walk?” He mumbles, breath ghosting your ear.
You smile back at him and nod.
The two of you head out into the crisp winter air. Small flurries whirl around your heads before settling into the powdery ground below. You stroll through the town hand in hand, taking in the festive lights adorning the buildings and fresh air.
“So, what were you guys really talking about?” Alex breaks the silence.
“I thought you’d forget that by now.” You huff out a laugh, reminiscing on Evelyn’s playful comment.
“You had that cute look on your face when something shocks you,” He muses. “I wasn't going to forget that.”
Blood rushes to your cheeks, adding to the flush the chill air has already adorned you with.
“It really wasn’t anything important, just Granny hinting at marriage - again.” A playful smirk graces your lips as you lock eyes with him.
He lets out a groan that morphs into a laugh, throwing his head back.
“She didn't really mention that to you again? She needs to calm down.”
“What? Is the thought of being married to me so bad?” You let out a dramatic gasp.
“No, no. You know it's not that.” He shoves a hand in his pocket and tilts his head at you. “But she brings it up like twice a week now, and we’ve been together less than a year.”
“No, it's okay, I know what you meant.” It’s a full blown, poorly executed performance now. Fake sniffles leaving your nose, the back of your arm covering your eyes. “It's fine. I wouldn't want to marry me either.”
Alex rolls his eyes and gently grabs your shoulder. “Okay, okay. You know I want to marry you. You know you mean everything to me.”
“Yeah, yeah sure. You're totally not just keeping me around until someone better comes.” You roll your eyes and turn away from him.
Suddenly, a patch of cold hits the center of your back. You spin around on your heel to see your boyfriend dusting the remnants of snow off on his hands as he smirks at you.
“D-did you just throw a snowball at me?” You narrowed your eyes and cocked an eyebrow at him in confusion, having not realized that was even an option of conversation.
He shrugs, “well if you want to act silly then I just thought I’d act silly too.”
You scoff out a laugh, before kneeling down to gather snow in your own hands.
“You're gonna regret that, Mullner.” Your tone is low and calm, it would almost be intimidating if this wasn't fresh snow we were talking about.
You shoot back to your feet, packing a tight ball in your hands. Alex laughs and turns to retreat farther, but is unable to escape being pelted as you lob the snowball at his cheek.
“Oh so it's a war you want.” A menacing laugh escapes his lips, scooping up more powder from
the untouched blanket.
You mimic his efforts, both hurling rounded lumps of snow at each other in unison before frantically packing the next one. Hit after hit is being thrown and taken in both directions.
There comes a moment when you both begin taking it incredibly seriously, acting as if you're on the frontlines of the most unserious battle a history book could dream of. Ducking and hiding behind trees and structures, plotting sneak attacks and rolling to dodge a precisely aimed orb. Alex even trying to snipe you once by climbing into a nearby tree.
Neither of you plan on losing. So when Alex drops to the ground after you hit him seemingly too hard in the stomach, you panic. You wanted to win, never actually hurt him.
Snow kicks out from under your feet as you rush to his side.
“Alex! Are you good?” Your brows knit together as you kneel down next to the brunette.
Suddenly, your back is against the soft, white ground. Your shoulders are pinned to the ground by a larger figure, one you were just concerned about.
“Gotcha,” his smirk is a little too big for your liking, considering he just cheated.
“I thought I hurt you! Jerk.” Your eyes narrow and look to the side, bottom lip jutting out in a pout that presses angrily on your love's heart.
“Babe, I was just joking. I’m sorry for scarin’ ya.” He gives off a sympathetic smile.
Unbeknownst to Alex, however, you were gathering as much snow as you could in your hand, plotting your payback. Sneaking your hand behind his back, you move suddenly and quickly to shove the handful of powder down the neck of his shirt.
“Aaugh!” He yelps, leaping to his feet. Shimmying in an attempt to get the cold away from his warm skin, he turns to glare daggers at you.
“Payback!” Giggles fall from your lips at your boyfriend's dance in search of comfort.
But as cute as you are, as much as the athlete’s heart swells at your perception of victory, he’s not going down that easily. Actually, you are.
A two second glimpse of a smirk is all you're afforded before Alex is barreling at you, tackling you gridball style (if only a bit more gentle) taking you to the ground with a muffled thud. You let out a squeal, brain unable to fully process the event before the man on top of you is assaulting you with kisses. Peppering your face and neck, earning an onslaught of giggles for him to bask in, one of his favorite sounds.
“Okay, truce!” You breathlessly yell, ribs feeling as if they’re on fire from laughter.
His attack ceases, eyes gleaming with adoration down on you.
“Love you, more than anything else. Remember that.” He grins before capturing your lips, stealing a soft, lingering kiss.
“I love you too, Mullner.” Escapes your tongue as a mere whisper.
All of this havoc despite the small, velvet box hiding behind an uninteresting book on his shelf.
#velvetlilith777#stardew valley#sdv#stardew#sdv alex#stardew alex#stardew valley alex#alex sdv#alex stardew valley#alex stardew#alex x farmer#alex x reader#alex x gender neutral farmer#alex x female farmer#alex x male farmer#alex x nonbinary farmer#alex x gender neutral reader#stardew valley fanfic
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What are the Chances I (Troy Otto)
Some more writing I found somewhere in the depths of my drafts and figured, I might as well put it out there...
Let me know if you like it and if you want to be tagged in future parts!
Masterlist
"I'm so hungry, Y/N!", Leona whined on the passenger seat and added: "And thristy! What did you say? How many days can a human live without water?"
They had run out of water supplies the day before and currently they were running very low on gas as well. "You still got enough power to complain so you're good."
They had only started their drive towards the Mexican border four days ago. It had been a week since society had collapsed completely. Back in the area close to Los Angeles they had tried to collect as many supplies as they could and had stuffed all of them into Leona's old Jeep. Besides supplies they had been on the hunt for weapons. Neither of them had any experience with them but so far, they had somehow managed to protect themselves against the undead.
They were careful. Very careful. The living being more of a potential threat than the dead.
"Maybe you can check the map again? I think we should be close", Y/N asked her friend and pointed at the glovebox. Back at an abandoned rest stop they had found a map of the area they were heading for.
When things had turned bad in Los Angeles they quickly had decided that trying to get back to their hometowns across the US was a stupid idea. They had no idea how things were over there, neither did they believe they'd get this far on their own. They actually were quite surprised they had gotten this far in the first place.
Luckily the younger one of them had a thing for crazy conspiracy theories and just happened to stumble across a commercial of an elderly man advertising some sort of survival buckets and his ranch where they were preparing for the fall of society, when she had been watching one of these rather questionable tv channels in the middle of the night. And also, she was lucky enough to remember at least vaguely remember where said ranch was. And that was exactly where they were heading.
When Leona was trying to locate them on their map Y/N suddenly saw a truck standing on the side of the street they were driving on. Really, she didn't want to stop right here in the middle of nowhere, somewhere in New Mexico, but a gaze at the fuel gage told her she had to at least try and find out if the Militia truck had some gas left, they could use for themselves.
"What are you doing?", Leona asked surprised when her friend slowed the car down. "Might get us some gas", she answered.
"You think this is a good idea? I don't think this truck's going to help you? Either someone left it here because it ran out of gas or I bet the person who drove it is still close." "I know", she sighed: "But I think we'll have to risk it or we'll soon have to walk."
Y/N slowed down the Jeep and checked if anyone was sitting in the Truck before she got out of the car, carrying a hose and a small revolver, which she stuffed in her back pocket.
It was silent and nobody seemed to be close. Neither living nor dead. Now all there was left to hope for was that the Truck had some gas.
She had just inserted the hose all the way in the Truck when she suddenly heard steps behind her on the dry ground and Leona's high-pitched voice from the Jeep by her side: "Watch out!"
With her heartbeat immediately pumping fast she turned around and pulled out the revolver. The young woman pointed her gun right at the two men, who were both wearing military uniforms. Her hands were shaking.
"One step closer and I'll shoot!"
They definitely were armed but instead of raising their rifles at her or trying to subdue her, they both raised their hands.
"We're not doing anything, okay? Just put that gun down."
But instead of that Leona now slipped out of the car, carrying a gun as well.
"What do you want?", Y/N asked and tried her best not to shit her pants.
"I'm Troy and this is Mike and we simply don't want you to steal all of our gas."
"Well, but we'll take it anyway." "No, you won't", Troy said again seriously. "And how are you going to prevent that?", Y/N wanted to know and pointed her gun straight at him.
"You've never used one of these things have you?", Troy laughed amused but although the two girls must have seemed like they had no clue what they were doing, Mike obviously wasn't as relaxed as his friend. "Man, I think we shouldn't test them."
"We'll...uh we won't take all of it. So you can still get away from here", Leona offered stuttering.
"I have a better idea", Mike said calmly: "You two take these things down and we'll take you with us." "With you?! Hell no!", Y/N took a step forward which didn't seem to scare Troy at all.
"Nonono!", Mike said quickly: "Not what you think! I promise! We're living on a ranch. We're building something there. You'd be save. Let us help you."
It wasn't hard to see that Troy wasn't too keen on that but really caught Y/N's attention.
"Broke Jaw Ranch?", Leona asked with big eyes and hope in her voice and lowered her gun. "Why are you asking", Troy wanted to know curiously so Y/N answered lowering her gun as well: "Because that's exactly where we're heading."
Part II
#fear the walking dead#troy otto#troy otto x reader#fanfiction#fear the walking dead fanfiction#what are the chances
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Quarantine
Summary: Eddie and Steve are stuck in quarantine together. They try to find ways to deal with it and to pass time.
A/N: I had so much fun writing this. I hope you enjoy it. It's kind of long.
After the destruction of Vecna, things did not get better so quickly in Hawkins. Yes, Eddie survived but only barely, and it was taking longer to clear him of all of the murder charges. The gates were closed, and Hawkins was slowly rebuilding. Meanwhile, he was stuck in quarantine with Steve Harrington, not that Eddie was complaining because as it turns out . . . King Steve had only been a facade. It had been a pleasure to get to know the real Steve. Eddie was finding the whole quarantine situation weird.
"Why don't they have us all quarantined in one place again?" Eddie asked from his spot on the couch.
"Well, they wanted us to be quarantined at the old Hawkins lab, but Hopper fought against that so we're in our houses," Steve explained. "How many times do you need to hear this?"
It's been so long that Eddie had been mostly healed of all of his bat bites. He was now upside down on the couch, watching the same commercial that had just come on. Eddie wanted to throw his shoe at the TV but he figured that would make him a terrible guest.
"I'm bored. . . let's sneak out," Eddie said.
"They're watching us, Eddie," Steve said with a sigh.
"We feel fine. I am feeling no side effects of the Upside Down coming into Hawkins. . . none whatsoever," Eddie said. "We're prisoners. . . their little puppets and I swear, they're going to come in the middle of the night to have their way with us. Well, at least I'll finally lose my virginity."
"Eddie!" Steve snapped.
"What's wrong?" Eddie asked. "Are you having Robin withdrawal? I think I might be having Dustin withdrawal. I miss that kid."
"Yeah, I think I know what you mean," Steve muttered.
Eddie rolled back into a normal position and jumped off the couch.
"Let's play hide and seek!" Eddie exclaimed. "Your house is big enough to hide anywhere."
"How old are you?" he asked.
"I don't know, cut me open and count the rings," Eddie said. "Tag you're it! Close your eyes and count to twenty!"
Steve sighed before closing his eyes. Fuck it, he was bored too. He counted to twenty and opened his eyes. Eddie was nowhere to be found. He stood up and took off his shoes before heading off to find Eddie. This was so stupid, Steve thought. He looked in the kitchen, but he wasn't there. Steve went in through the main room to look at the small room where the sliding glass doors that led out to the pool. He wasn't there either. Steve's father's study was on the other side of the small room, and he walked in to find Eddie, but he wasn't there either. He made his way upstairs when he got an idea.
"Oh, I can't find Eddie anywhere. I guess he really did decide to leave. I guess that means I can finally say what's on my mind," Steve grinned. "James Hetfield sucks!"
"You take that back, Steven James Harrington!" Eddie shrieked.
Steve chuckled. Of course, he was hiding in his room. Steve opened the door to his room and smiled at the sight of his closet door slightly open. He pulled the door opened and found Eddie hiding amongst his clothes.
"I got you!" Steve shrieked.
"Goddamnit! That was a trick, wasn't it?" Eddie pouted and Steve laughed. "Mean."
"Wait, how did you know my middle name?" Steve asked.
"I stole your wallet earlier and peaked at your license," Eddie said and Steve gave him a look. "What? I was bored."
"Alright, cover your eyes, asshole," Steve said. "You're it."
A few turns later and they found themselves on the floor of the guest room that Eddie's been sleeping in. They were bored again.
"Okay, how much time has passed now?" Eddie asked.
"I don't think we even made it to thirty minutes!" Steve exclaimed.
"Fuck!" Eddie exclaimed, rubbing his eyes. "Okay, do you have any ideas?"
"I have books, we could read," Steve shrugged.
"Wait, you have books? Why the fuck didn't you tell me? Have you been hoarding them like some sort of book dragon? Steven James, are you a book dragon?" Eddie asked.
"I would tell you if I were a book dragon," Steve replied.
"Would you though?" Eddie asked and stood up. "Lead me to the books, my liege."
Steve stood up and as he did so, Eddie jumped onto his back.
"Eddie!"
"Onward, noble steed!" Eddie said. "We must find this treasure before sundown!"
He wrapped his legs around Steve and squeezed Steve with his legs. The other man sighed before heading downstairs and towards the basement. It was small, comfortable, and a lot more friendly than the rest of Steve's house. Eddie could tell that this was where the kids hung out whenever they came over. He smiled in amusement when he saw that Steve had hung up their drawings. Eddie jumped off Steve's back and ran towards the bookshelf in the back.
"Yes! You have the Hobbit!" Eddie exclaimed. "Have you read the Hobbit?"
"No," Steve said.
"Oh, boy, you are in for it," Eddie asked, and he pushed him onto the couch. "Sit and watch as I bring it to life."
A couple of hours later, Steve and Eddie woke up from a deep sleep.
"When the hell did we fall asleep?" Eddie asked. "And why are we awake? Steve, how long has it been now?"
"I think it's still the same day," he said and Eddie screamed then he stopped.
"Wait, is it close to dinner time?" Eddie asked.
"Yeah."
"Let's go make dinner!" Eddie exclaimed.
An hour later, they were back in the living room, sprawled out and clutching their stomachs.
"How long has it been now?" Eddie asked. "Is it still the same day?"
"Yes," Steve said.
"Steve, make time go by faster," Eddie said. "I command it."
"Yeah, no," Steve said.
"There's nothing on TV," Eddie said with a sigh. "Steve, have you ever kissed a guy?"
"What? No!" Steve said.
"Have you ever thought about kissing a guy?" He asked.
"Have you ever thought about it?" Steve asked.
"A little. I have kissed a girl and I did like that. Recently, I've always wondered what it would be like to kiss a guy. How different is it?" Eddie said. "I mean, my sexuality is definitely wobbly right now."
"You want to kiss me?" Steve asked with wide eyes.
"You see any other guys around? You whipping off that sweater on the boat and whipping at me definitely sparked something in me, big boy, so yeah, I definitely want to kiss you," Eddie said.
"That did something for you, did it?" Steve said, standing up. "Whipping off my shirt and throwing it at you? Do you like it when my junk hits you in the face?"
"Fuck off," Eddie laughed.
Steve whipped off his shirt and threw it at him. He walked over to Eddie and straddled his lap, hovering just slightly.
"You like this?" Steve asked softly, and Eddie nodded. "Can I kiss you?"
Eddie nodded again. Steve pushed his hair back and cupped his face, brushing his thumb over Eddie's cheekbones. He leaned in, and Eddie met him halfway, closing the gap. A shot of excitement shot through Steve as he tasted Eddie's soft lips, shivered when Eddie's skin met his as he placed his hand on the small of Steve’s back. It shot through Steve and all the way down to his dick. Yeah, Steve definitely liked it. He liked the way Eddie kissed, curious and slowly at first, but then it grew more passionate. Eddie liked it, too. Another jolt shot through him as Eddie tugged him down onto his clothed, hard dick. Eddie broke the kiss, and his hand went to his belt buckle.
"You sparked the fire, Stevie," Eddie said, grinning wickedly. "I'm adding more fuel. May I?"
"Yeah. Yes!"
TWO DAYS LATER. . .
Eddie was lying naked in Steve's bed, watching Steve sleep beside him. Eddie grinned. Poor sweetheart was worn out, and Eddie did that. Eddie traced the moles on his back and leaned down to kiss them.
"Steeevvie," Eddie sang softly.
"Mm, what?" Steve asked.
"So grumpy when you first wake up," Eddie said. "Steve, I'm bored."
Steve groaned and flopped over onto his back.
"Was I not a good enough distraction for you?" Steve said.
Eddie laughed and straddled him.
"You're definitely the best distraction ever, but this house is driving me insane. I need to get out. We have done everything that there is to do in this house, including each other. We're definitely bisexual. We kissed and fucked in every room of this house," Eddie said.
"Not my parents' room," Steve said.
"Yeah, that room scares me. There's some bad juju in there," Eddie said and paused. "Stevie, I want to take you out."
Steve sat up, placing his hands on his hips.
"What are you saying exactly?" Steve asked.
"Well, I don't want to kill you, so I'm asking. . .Steve, do you want to be my boyfriend?" Eddie said.
"Yeah, baby, I want to be your boyfriend," Steve said and flipped him over onto his back.
An hour later, after another round of sex, Eddie was lying on his back and staring at the ceiling while Steve was slowly drifting back off to sleep.
"That's it," Eddie said, throwing off the blankets and slipping out of the bed.
"Where are you going?!" Steve asked.
"To talk to them," Eddie said, storming out of the room.
"Eddie!" Steve yelled, jumping out of the bed. "You're still naked! I thought we decided to that I was the only one allowed to see you like this. . .you know, as your boyfriend! Eddie!"
Eddie walked out of the house and stood on the porch steps. A car was parked out front with two suits sitting inside.
"Hey, assholes!" Eddie yelled.
"Jesus Christ, kid! Put on some clothes and go back inside!" The suit said.
"I shan't put on any clothing until you foul beasts have let us go!" Eddie declared.
"Get the hell back inside!" The suit yelled.
"Are you going to come over here and make me?" Eddie asked. "While you're at it, why don't you get on your knees and suck my - "
The door behind him opened, and Steve pulled him inside. He slammed the door and locked it.
"Are you crazy?" Steve asked.
"That's up for debate. Wayne has threatened to get me tested a couple of times," Eddie said.
"I can't believe I like you," Steve said, smiling.
"Yeah? Do you like it when i get a little crazy?" Eddie grinned as he pressed up against Steve and started kissing his neck. "What else do you like about me?"
"You're sweet and fun. I like the way you keep me on my toes, and you make me so happy that I could scream," Steve said and then said softly, "You make me happy."
"You make me happy too. Honestly, big boy, why the hell did you even bother putting these back on?" Eddie said and pulled down his boxers.
"Again, really? You know, we're out of condoms," Steve said.
"Seriously? Already?" Eddie asked.
"You used the rest of them to start a water balloon fight with the suits yesterday," Steve said. "One of them threatened to shoot you."
"He only said that because I filled one of them with milk," Eddie said.
"Oh my god!"
Steve wondered if it was just a coincidence or if Eddie really did have anything to do with it, but the very next day, they got the call that the quarantine was over. Eddie tried to celebrate with Steve, but they were interrupted by yet another phone call. It was Dustin and Robin. They were coming over. Eddie couldn't be mad. He missed both of them. Plus, it was really cute how excited Steve was at the prospect of seeing them. Eddie and Steve swarmed them when they walked through the door, hugging them tightly.
"So, how did you guys hold up in quarantine?" Dustin asked.
"Oh, we did very well," Eddie said and shared a look with Steve, giving him a nod.
"Robin, let's go to the bathroom and talk," Steve said.
"Okay, but why the bathroom?" She asked as she walked off with him. "Steve. . .why the bathroom? Steve? . . . Oh my God!"
"Really? You couldn't have waited until we got to the bathroom to figure it out?" Steve pouted. "I was doing a thing."
"OH MY GOD!" Robin exclaimed.
"Okay. Yes, get it out," Steve rolled his eyes.
"OH. MY. GOD!"
Dustin looked over Eddie's shoulder, frowning when he saw Robin hugging Steve tightly.
"What do you think they're talking about over there?" Dustin asked.
"Oh, he's probably telling Robin that I'm fucking him," Eddie said casually.
Dustin had the misfortune to be drinking something when Eddie said that. He choked and coughed, staring at Eddie with wide eyes.
"Are you serious?"
"Yep!"
"Oh my God! I thought that you two would become best friends when I planned this, but you two becoming more is better than I could have imagined," Dustin laughed.
"What?!" Eddie asked, staring him down.
"Okay, so, uh funny story, I faked the quarantine," Dustin said.
"You faked the quarantine?!" Eddie exclaimed. "How?! Why?"
"Well, after Vecna, you and Steve seemed to be distancing each other, so I really wanted you guys to hang out, so I faked the quarantine," Dustin laughed nervously. "Also, you've been cleared of all charges."
"What?! Okay. How did you manage to keep that from me?" Eddie asked.
"I told Hop and everyone that I would tell you, but then I didn't," Dustin said sheepishly.
"Did I just hear correctly?" Steve asked, coming up behind Eddie. "You faked the quarantine?"
Eddie grabbed the hat off his head and started to hit him with it. He grabbed him roughly, kissed the top of his head, and put his hat back.
"You're lucky that everything worked out, you meddling little shit," Eddie said.
"Wait, who were the suits?" Steve asked.
"Oh, yeah, I paid Murray and Dimitri with my compensation money," Dustin said. "Murray shaved his beard and wore a wig."
"Oh, my God!" Eddie said in realization. "I bombed a Russian with water filled condoms."
#stranger things#eddie munson#stranger things s4#joseph quinn#eddie stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson lives#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington x eddie munson#steddie fanfiction#dustin henderson#robin buckley#henderdads#eddie and steve expiriment#it leads to a discovery#a silly little fic#bisexual steve harrington#bisexual eddie munson#bi eddie munson#bi4bi#steddie fanart#rueleigh edits#rueleigh writes
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About the mixed response in China & why I think TTEOTM will prevail in the end 💪
Saw the "Badly Received in China?" post earlier and thought to share a longer take on the situation in China, why are there so many antis, and my own predictions on its future.
First, a clarification, TTEOTM has been an massive hit in China. The data speaks for itself in every way you can measure commercial success: viewership, platform membership, app downloads, social media heat index, advertisements, merchandise sales, unintended tourism GDP contribution. The drama has shattered records and outperformed all the recent xianxias, which you'd never dare to expect for a drama with no dingliu (顶流) that airs exclusively in the dead April slot on a platform that's 3rd (sometimes 4th) amongst online streamers. (Some day I'll create a master post just on the stats.)
The only area it falls short on is critical response. It's not just the low Douban rating (opened at 6.x and now dropped to 5.6). The three Bs - Douban, Weibo, and Bilibili (which you can think of as China's IMDB, Twitter, and Youtube) were full of attacks against the show. This included trending topics on how the actors looked (LYX too thin, BL looking old/big/overshadowed by CDL, CDL 照骗 not looking as good as in photo) as well as allegations of plagiarism and drama behind the scenes between cast & crew members. A lot of people watched video edits that twisted the facts and had a poor impression of the drama and even left 1/2-star reviews on Douban without ever watching an episode. (This type of brainwashing is more effective than you'd think. I've been reading a lot of negative posts about the Little Mermaid movie and almost caught myself writing something negative about it without ever watching.)
As all of this unfolded, I kept asking myself, why all the smearing? Who is behind it? And why TTEOTM in particular?
A lot of what appears to be normal user activity is driven by water armies, marketing accounts, and "black" hot search ranking, all paid. This is all backed up by photo evidence captured by netizens. It comes down to commercial interests of rival platforms, productions, actors. This actually happens to every drama that is threatening in some way (almost a proof of success), but TTEOTM attracted more anti $$$. Why? For one, it's seen as the secret weapon that could elevate Youku's status as a 3rd/4th player to a close 2nd to rival and even at times overshadow Tencent. It's no coincidence that, Bilibili, which is owned by Tencent and has way more daily active users than Youku, has promoted hate videos and limited the traffic of fan videos - at some point not even recognizing the drama's Chinese title in search results. (Bilibili used to be a haven for LYX fans and a platform LYX has partnered with extensively. This flipped 180 degrees since he no longer has any unaired dramas with Tencent.)
TTEOTM is also a target for rival productions. It's got big name stars with solid acting reputation, one of the hottest IPs, and high anticipation from all the promotional materials - they've been super loud in letting everyone know that they have better costumes, special effects etc Meanwhile, there's a massive pipeline of unaired xianxia dramas that stick to the old formula and will likely feel dated after people have watched TTEOTM. People even started questioning how some productions with bigger rumored budgets ended up with cheaper-looking promotional materials, costumes, CGI (read: embezzling). So if you've invested in xianxia 101, you'd really want to discredit TTEOTM and stop people from watching it.
But there's also rival fandom jealousy, which is almost worse. Someone asked which fandom is behind it, I would say everyone. There are only so many "resources" to go around in the "entertainment winter" and it's a zero sum game. LYX and BL are both already big stars but still not at the top yet. They are big enough to threaten the dinglius, but not big enough to be accepted as having "made it" by other rising stars. E.g. Yang Mi, Yang Zi, Xiao Zhan receive a lot of hate too, but it's less realistic as a prospect to bring them down. In contrast, the smearing of Bai Lu actually kind of worked. (And I'm really talking about the fans. The actors probably leave it to their agencies/companies.)
Other fandoms are especially bitter in this case because TTEOTM really upset the status quo and commonly accepted truths in a way that kind of discredits everyone else. A lot of the below have been used by fans of dinglius as excuses for when a drama doesn't perform:
Youku is a rubbish platform and Youku exclusive web dramas will never have high viewership
It’s impossible for an actor to break out twice within the same genre
An actor can only develop a big dedicated fan base with CP marketing
Breakout hits are always unanticipated dramas that come out of nowhere
Autumn/Spring is a dead slot. Hits can only come out of the summer and winter holidays.
IMHO A lot of the intense hatred comes from long held beliefs being proven wrong. LYX has always been thought of someone who’s borderline A list and B list, yet the opening viewership of TTEOTM is like double that of dramas led by bigger stars. It would have been less threatening if it started low and slowly gained traction because the drama proved to be good. But the initial hype speaks to the market power of a LYX xianxia, so a lot of people wanted to see it fail and looked for faults everywhere.
Moreover, because TTEOTM had an explosive opening, it did not have enough time for word of mouth to develop before people started bashing it. If you look at Douban ratings, shows that fewer people watched tend to have better reviews because only fans bother to rate it. Starry Love and Back from the Brink, both harshly dismissed as flops by the industry, both have >7.0 on Douban. Meanwhile, people love to hate on a show that is receiving a lot of hype - suddenly they are held to completely different standards even if the budget is similar. Why are people more accepting of the rise of Dylan Wang and Esther Yu in LBFAD? In the end because the expectations were pretty low. They were able to build up a fan base while no one was watching.
Finally, TTEOTM does have lots of production problems, some of their own doing and others not their fault. Either way this left the drama less defensible in the face of scrutiny or tucao (吐槽) culture. The production is very ambitious and took risks, but did not deliver everywhere. It's got parts that look like a blockbuster film and parts that look like a B grade TV show. I personally did not like some of the editing, lighting, cinematography, color grading, special effects, makeup. AND this is precisely the type of production details Chinese viewers LOVE to fixate on. Meanwhile, compared to western viewers, they are more forgiving about things like mediocre acting, dubbing, slow pacing, repetitive tropes or storylines, uninteresting characters. (I think this has something to do with cultural differences around rewarding perfect execution over innovation/risk-taking, sum of the parts over parts that carry the sum.)
And then, there are creative choices that are daring and controversial. These are not problems per se - for every viewer that hates it, someone loves it because it's different. But this perhaps explain why its score has dropped further, even in non-Chinese platforms like MDL, even amongst fans of the show. For example... (spoilers ahead)
Opting for a bad/open ending, knowing that it'll upset some fans, but sticking to it because they feel that it protects the overall integrity of the story (no deus ex machina). Of course, most viewers prefer a happy ending. It would have been easy to just give people what they want. The screenwriter doesn't even have to come up with a new ending for god's sake! However, almost every xianxia that has come before has resurrected the lead character after the big climax. Viewers have been making fun of the cop out: What's the significance of life and death if everyone just reincarnates?
Packing lots of details in a fast-paced, highly complicated, non-linear plot, trusting viewers to be engaged enough to use their brain, rewatch, and discuss outside the show (a bit like Christopher Nolan films). The downside of this is that it's hard to edit out a scene. There's also high risk of viewers getting confused and complaining that the plot makes no sense. Even though most things do if you go several layers down, some rightly point out that they just want to be entertained and the drama should stand on its own.
Making this a male lead centric (大男主) drama, which is rare in the xianxia genre that more recently has targeted young women exclusively. The story shifts from focusing on LSS's mission to TTJ overcoming his fate, perhaps at the expense of the romance (a criticism I see a lot from viewers looking for a pure love story). However, for context, viewers in China (including CCTV itself) have been complaining that the xianxia genre has lost the "xia” (heroism). It's gone from Chinese Paladin, which is about ordinary people overcoming odds to become heroes, to stories that are just about pretty people, who happen to be gods, falling in love since the success of Eternal Love and Journey of the Flower. TTEOTM brings the focus back to "zero to hero" character development, so this is also a change that many welcome.
Allocating a crazy portion of budget and screentime to superhero fight sequences. I agree with all the critics who say these scenes don't add much to the story, the B roll looks better without CGI, and they could have kept other scenes instead. BUT guess which scenes I find myself rewatching and showing off to friends the most? Episodes 14, 15, 32. Because it is thrilling and glorious. Plus after enduring so many Marvel films over the years, I'm pleased to see a version that's genuinely Chinese (not some pan-Asian BS), rooted in our philosophy and martial arts tradition, featuring Chinese faces that have real kungfu training.
Going over the top on aesthetics - colorful costumes, hair accessories, and heavy makeup. A violent reaction against the simple pastel aesthetics that have dominated xianxias over the years. Of course, lots of people hated on the eyeliner and found the extravagant visuals distracting.
However, even with all its flaws, I'm glad it aired and did not wait for perfection. (A lot of May dramas did not go live last minute due to "technical problems" i.e. government censorship. These days, airing = success.) In addition, I predict that over time people will come to appreciate TTEOTM more. Here's why:
1) A lot of dramas now widely lauded as classics started out with poor ratings. Over time, the noise will die down and make way for what really matters - compelling acting and story. Empresses in the Palace (2011) opened with a Douban rating of 2.7 out of 10 (yes, this bad). Viewers didn't like the casting choice. They thought the actors looked bad. There were also issues with the costumes. Over time, its rating increased to 9.4. It's now a show rewatched so loyally that data analysts use its viewership to track market size. Similarly, a lot of the issues people have with TTEOTM are superficial. The things that matter most like acting are good, and even if you dislike the story and editing choices, it did manage to keep 70M people watching and engaged till the end, incl. people who don't watch a lot of TV or like this genre.
2) Moreover, when people look back or rewatch, they tend to focus on just the highlights, and TTEOTM is full of memorable scenes. There are also so many standout memes/gags (出圈梗) that will live in our cultural fabric forever. Fans on Douban were surveyed on who they would have chosen as the director instead and still overwhelming "rehired" Kuk Kok Leung. Biases aside, I think people realize that you could have a better executed drama overall - higher production value, greater consistency, more attention to detail, BUT you might also lose a lot of the things we loved. I don't know if another director would have allowed TTJ go full creepy/evil/weak in the first few episodes or filmed all the steamy love scenes without a modesty backlight. TTEOTM feels so different because it breaks ALL the rules (see above) that I'm not sure if dramas in the future will try to replicate. If they do, TTEOTM would have started a trend. If they don't, TTEOTM will remain the only option.
3) Only dramas that inspire passion will stand the test of time. There are plenty of dramas that score well but don't inspire passion - they will fade away over time. The TTEOTM fan community is intense - there's so much discussion and engagement everywhere. Its Douban group is the #3 most active ever (measured by # of comments). Its MDL page has 68K comments, highest of all aired CDrama. Its Douyin topic has close to 29B views, highest of all costume drama. (Interesting to note that TTEOTM has an excellent reputation on Douyin, the platform with the most active users and least amount of toxic fan activity.) Fans have spent >25M RMB on merchandise, an unprecedented amount - 3M RMB on a character that appears for <10 mins (OG Devil God). It's got to have done something right because this is way more buying power than the fans of LYX and BL combined. And in my N=1, I've not been this excited about a franchise since Game of Thrones and then Harry Potter.
Bottom line, you might have liked it, liked it with regrets, hated it... but if you're spending the time to read this post, all the way till the end, you've become a luna-tic (or 烬神病人)!
#till the end of the moon#black moonlight holds the be script#luo yunxi#bai lu#tantai jin#ye xiwu#chang yue jin ming#chinese drama#cdrama
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Let's Marvin Gaye and Get It On - DCEU! Clark Kent x Reader
A/N: sorry this idea got stuck in my head and I had to let it out.
pairing: DCEU! Clark Kent x fem!reader
warnings/content: p in v, creampie, breeding kink if you squint, softdom! clark
word count: 1.4k
You and Clark spent your evening the way you spent most evenings - sitting on the couch together watching television, often you choosing to catch up on Love Island or Below Deck while Clark happily sits with you, watching the baseball game on his phone, scrolling through news stories. It’s quiet and uneventful, but it’s routine, and neither of you seemed to mind usually, but tonight, tonight was different.
Clark had been working late the past few days on a story, writing and revising and editing, piles of discarded paper tossed about the floor of his office at home, his neat, masculine writing scratched out or scribbled over on all of them. He always preferred to handwrite his notes for a story and refer to them again as he typed the final draft - “call me old-fashioned,” he’d always said. He’d been running himself into the ground trying to finish what he was working on, and you could tell the stress was getting to him as he began to withdraw from you. He’d grown quieter, becoming less and less of a conversationalist as the week went on, the normal fiery passion behind his kisses sizzling out to just sweet, soft pecks on the cheek here and there with a hollow, emptiness to them. Not wanting Clark or your relationship to suffer further, you devised a plan.
As your show ended, your lips curled up into a grin, eyes watching Clark’s reaction to his phone to gauge when to put your plan into motion. You could hear a commercial come on during a break in the game, the sounds of a sales pitch for beers blaring through the small speaker built into his phone. Clark huffed a sigh and set the phone down before turning to look at you. He caught a glimpse of the smirk that you were now sporting, and cocked his eyebrow in response.
“You ok, baby? You’re looking at me…differently,” He started.
You slowly straddled Clark’s hips, lowering yourself into his lap as you rested your arms on his shoulders, smiling sweetly at him. The hem of your skirt lifted up as you sat, revealing your lack of undergarments. It always seemed to turn Clark on to see you like this, a tiny skirt with no barrier between his hand and your core. He loved teasing you normally - he liked the reaction he got, watching you squirm and struggle with keeping it to yourself whenever you went out together.
“You seem tense, sweetheart,” you purred, nodding your head as your finger traced his jawline slowly.
You watched as Clark swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he gulped. His icy blue eyes never left you as you settled yourself onto his thighs, your hands dragging their way lazily down his torso, the flannel material of his button up shirt grazing against the pads of your fingers. He stared at you with newfound intensity, watching as your hands slipped the buttons of his shirt open one at time with ease. You began slliding the material back off his shoulders slightly, just enough to expose his skin, the dark curls of hair on his chest now very clearly visible, tapering off before trailing down his stomach to the waistline of his jeans.You drifted your touch down to his belt, undoing the metal buckle slowly, dragging your actions out to see how far you could push Clark.
“Honey, you’re driving me crazy right now, you know that?”
His voice was soft and sweet, yet a hint of dominance lingered as he spoke, his lips just barely away from your ear, his warm breath against your earlobe was enough to set your skin alight with passion, a tingling sensation overcoming you from head to toe as you tugged on his belt, freeing it from his jeans before letting the buckle clatter to the floor. You hummed as you undid his jeans, smirking at him innocently as your eyes met his. His normally cheerfully bright blue eyes had darkened, now full of lust and wanting as he watched your every move.
You got up from his lap just enough to tug his bottoms down, letting them pool around his ankles. Your eyes drifted to the sight of his cock. No matter how many times you’d seen it over the course of your relationship, you couldn’t help but be taken slightly aback by its sheer size - thicker and longer than you’d expected the first time you’d slept with him, but even now at the thousandth time seeing it, you found yourself wearing the same proud yet intimidated smirk as you took in the sight of it. You licked your lips before taking your spot back on his lap. This time however, you sat back slightly, resting your body onto his thighs to tease him.
Clark tutted before grabbing you by the hips and swiftly pulling you on top of his lap, thrusting his hardened cock into you. His hand gripped your hair, giving it a gentle tug to bring your gaze on to him. You let out a soft gasp, caught off guard by Clark’s sudden dominance. You loved when he took charge, but it happened so infrequently that when it did occur, you were always surprised. Clark was typically, very much an equality champion when it came to sex - you both had the same level of control and say in everything, which you did appreciate, most of the time. He smirked at the sound of your gasp, leaning in to whisper into your ear, his cock remaining inside you, though his hips refusing to move an inch for you.
“You wanted to keep my cock warm for me? That’s sweet of you, honey,” He teased, his voice rasping at you as he spoke.
“Clark, baby,” you whined, grinding your hips into his as you tried to urge him to thrust again, “Need you.”
“Need me to do what, sweetheart?” He grunted, trying to resist the urge to thrust into you, wanting to tease you a little longer. “Need you to fuck me, please?” You begged, nodding your head. Clark gave you a devilish smile as he began bucking his hips upwards into your core, his hands holding you in place by your hips as he fucked into you. You began melting into his touch, your thighs quivering as you felt him thrusting into you harder and faster with each movement. Your hands found their way onto his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you steadied yourself. You felt Clark growl your name into your ear before taking your earlobe between his teeth and giving it a gentle tug.
“You like feeling me fill you up, don’t you baby?”
A loud whine escaped your lips as you bounced up and down on Clark’s cock, feeling your muscles tense up and tighten around him. Clark let out a strangled moan, saying your name as if it was a spoken prayer, worshipping your every feature, every movement as you brought him closer and closer to the edge.
“Taking me so well, honey, being such a good girl, taking all of me.”
You threw your head back as you felt him thrust harder into your spot, making you see stars with every move he made, his movements becoming less calculated, less reformed, his hips stuttering as he hit his orgasm. Your muscles gripped his cock tightly, clenching onto him as he filled you, your own orgasm following suit. As you rode it out, you felt Clark give a few slow thrusts of his hips forwards. You stood up on trembling legs, feeling everything Clark had just given you drip down your leg. He smirked up at you from his seat on the couch, dragging his finger through it before shoving two thick fingers back inside of your throbbing pussy. You let out a loud, almost pornographic sounding moan as he fucked his fingers into you.
“You like that, honey? Like when I push it back into that sweet pussy of yours?” He teased before pulling his hand away.
A trembling, quivering mess, you took your seat beside Clark back, sitting down on the couch. Clark gave you a lopsided smile as he turned to face you, nodding his head.
“I’m less stressed out now, if that was your whole plan,” he said matter-of-factly.
“How did you know?”
“Baby, did you forget I’m a journalist? I have sources,” he grinned, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek.
#dceu!superman x you#dceu!superman x reader#dceu!clark kent x reader#dceu!clark kent x you#dceu fic#dceu clark kent#dceu clark kent x reader#dceu clark kent x you#dceu superman x you#dceu superman#dceu superman x reader#dceu!superman#dceu! clark kent#dceu! clark kent x you#dceu! clark kent x reader#dceu! superman x you#dceu! superman x reader#dceu!clark kent#henry cavill characters
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tmnt 2003 Michelangelo headcanons
Mikey talks to himself when he's alone. He'll either have a full on conversation with himself or he'll narrate what he's doing like he's being interviewed for a tv show. Like when he's cooking he'll be like "So folks you're gonna wanna fold not stir your batter." or like "Now for this part you're gonna need to use some hand mixers, these are a great set my brother Don found them in the garbage."
There's like a sweet old lady who has her own cooking show and Mikey worships her like he has all her cook books and if he's in a cooking bind he'll be like "What would betty do?". He just talks about her like they're old friends he'll be like "Yeah this is a new recipe. Betty told me to use cream instead of milk"
Or he'll be like "What are we making tonight? Let's ask Betty" and open up his cookbook
For tv shows Mikey will watch just about anything he has no standards. I like to think that when they first got the tv set up, they only had like free-to-air channels and Mikey just likes having something on the tv. Like he'll be watching the shopping channel and just be like "omg that's so tacky"
Like he'll be yelling at the tv and everyone will be like wow what's mikey watching? and it's the shopping channel
One day he was left unsupervised and actually called cause he didn't know you needed a credit card and he'll be mad about that for the rest of his life cause he was gonna buy like a fancy toaster or something (and then he complained to donnie about it so donnie modified the toaster for him)
Also he's memorized most of the commercials jingles and he sings them constantly and everyone hates him for it.
Mikey writes and draws his own super hero comics in a big notebook and it's an ongoing story he's had for years. He's got like a self insert turtle-titan main character and he's created cameos for all his brothers too. Splinter is the mentor, Leo is the leader of like the superhero force, Donnie is his sidekick and he made Raph the damsel in distress out of spite.
But he's a pretty good artist. And I feel like he would be good at music too. Like he has an old keyboard in his room he likes to just mess around with. Nothing too fancy but sometimes he'll just play little jingles on it. Or 90% of the time it's him mashing the sound effects.
But april also plays piano and when she's there she'll show him a few little songs like she taught him heart and soul and they'll play that together.
Mikey is a couch hog if you sit beside him he is gonna put his feet on you. Like he'll be laying on the couch and he'll move his feet so someone can sit and then he'll put them right back down on top of them. And you can shove him off but he'll just stick them right back. Him and Raph go through this cycle every time they sit together.
Mikey collects human accessories like he's got a bunch of hats and sunglasses and necklaces. I feel like he would like to accessorize.
Mikey has a highlighter orange beach shirt with flamingos and palm trees and he's obsessed.
Also he has one of those tacky ab aprons he refuses to get rid of.
#tmnt#tmnt headcanons#tmnt 2003#tmnt 2k3#tmnt michelangelo#I'm gonna do one of these for each I have a lot of thoughts#I love Mikey he's so fun#I want to watch reality tv shows with him#I want his opinion on the new love is blind season#I feel like it would be weirdly insightful#tmnt 2003 headcanons
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you know, they tell you all about childhood wonder, but i made spaghetti squash last night, and i told my 6 year old, "look! this looks like an ordinary squash, but look what happens when you cook it! it's going to turn into spaghetti!" and i roasted it and took it out of the oven and showed her, "look! look! check this out! it's like magic! spaghetti!!!!" digging my fork into the squash, the little strings coming out looking so goddamn much like spaghetti, in a way that still amazes me, as an adult, even though i've seen it happen before, it's still incredible to me, holy shit, here's this thing that grows out of the ground and we figured out that if you roast it the insides look identical to this other thing that exists, that is also edible, and they taste pretty good with the same seasonings and sauces.
"look! the squash turned into spaghetti! holy cow!" i even wrapped the strings around my fork, like a spaghetti commercial.
my 6 year old looked at my fork, looked at me, with a world weary glare, then rolled her eyes. "i'm not going to eat that." "ok, ok, you don't have to eat it, but isn't it cool?! how does it do that?!" "whatever." whatever! how can you whatever seeing a spaghetti squash for the first time?!
i tell you, we were sold a bill of goods about childhood wonder. there are so many things that amaze me that don't amaze my kids.
when i think about it, i remember that i was the same way, when i was that age, when i learned to read bigger books; i read a few science books, then i felt like i knew everything, and nothing amazed me anymore, everything that could be imagined had already happened. everything had a rational explanation. christmas lights were just electricity. mickey mouse is just a guy in a costume. vegetables are just vegetables and not that exciting; food doesn't need to be exciting, after all, it just needs to be safe and familiar.
--
just a few hours after the spaghetti squash, after i had put them to bed -- i heard the gentle click of my kid's bedroom door. her head popped into the bathroom, where i was taking a bath.
"i can't go to sleep, because i'm afraid."
"afraid of what?"
"i was watching a show about rattlesnakes, and a gila monster was about to eat them, and i turned it off, but now i'm still thinking -- what if i was a snake, and a gila monster was about to eat me?"
"...well, you are very lucky, because you are not a snake. and there are no gila monsters here."
"yes, but what if i was a snake? and what if there was a gila monster?"
"but you are a kid, and you are safe in your bedroom."
"but what if i wasn't?"
--
what i love about kids is that they are full of surprises. you can't predict how they'll react to things. adults follow scripts, but kids write their own. especially in these brief, precious years -- between 4 and 10 -- when they have enough language to communicate and process the world, but they're not following any scripts yet. and they have big emotions because they bristle against all the scripts being presented to them.
so you get all these funny contrasts -- the big christmas decorations are "whatever," but what's really fun is twisting these fuzzy pipe cleaners together. this toy doll is kind of fun, but what's really fun is pouring water in her mouth until she's sopping wet, cracking up because it's like she peed all over herself, then deciding to take a bath at noon. (taking a bath at noon is fun, taking a bath at bathtime is not.) the "make your own cookie" pre-made set is not fun, but mixing a big bowl of flour until everything is covered in white definitely is.
i love them because they're right. because we're both right. because they fill my life with contrasts. the spaghetti squash IS amazing, and it's ALSO pretty boring. coloring on paper IS limited fun, coloring on walls DOES feel liberating. it's true that we are not snakes, but what if we WERE?
we are always showing each other alternative ways of being!
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