#idk if I like this one as much as the speak now one
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planetpedri · 1 day ago
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hiii……. lando comes home and shows reader his new haircut?
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Lover // over the moon 𖦹 Lando Norris !
Summary. Lando hadn’t told you about his haircut and he was.. well, scared to show you.. but your response quickly put his worried to rest.
Word count. 395+
Disclaimers. basically fluff idk
Bea speaks! okay so i don’t really know where i was going w this..? i hate it but i hope vee likes it!!….
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Lando’s voice calling out your name only had you momentarily pausing, the wet plate in your hand nearly slipping. “In the kitchen!” You call out over your shoulder, setting the dish into the dishwasher.
His foot steps are soft on the wooden floor as he slowly makes his way toward you, “how was your day?” He asks casually when you don’t immediately turn to greet him.
Your lip curves, “good. And yours?”
Lando, still nervous, his stomach doing flips at the thought of anything but a good reaction from you—gingerly steps closer, his arms slithering around your waist. The action elicited a small laugh from you, tipping your head to the side as he placed a kiss to your shoulder.
“Better now.” He mumbles against your skin. “Also, don’t like—freak out or anything, but..”
The sweet moment was well over. You spin around in his arm, eyes widening at the sight in front of you. Lando is silent as your eyes dart over his head, your fingertips pressing into his cheeks as you push it side to side.
“Why was I not consulted?” Your eyebrows lift and your gaze drops to his eyes. Noticing the worry displayed across your boyfriend’s adorable face, you soften. “I’m not complaining. Just.. well, i’m surprised! That’s all.”
His expression lifts at your comforting words, “it was an impulsive decision, plus.. Oscar and I had a bet. I lost.”
A laugh tumbles off your lips, “what?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” The man grumbles lowly. “Do you like it or is a beanie going to have to make an appearance?”
Feigning to think, your finger grazes his cheek. “I actually,” you pause, tilting his head again, examining the way the sides slowly faded, “I actually love it.” Your tone was almost surprised, like you hadn’t thought you’d actually like it so much.
“Yeah?” His face lights up one again, his smile lifting to show his tooth gap. “Good.”
Mirroring his wide smile, you place a kiss to his mouth. “I have to finish cleaning the dishes.” You pull away and pat his cheek. “Next time you want a haircut, tell me.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He says, voice full of amusement before stepping back and making his way to the fridge. All anxieties he had about your disapproval, long since faded.
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likes, comments, and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in future lando posts.
ᝰ.ᐟ tags @halfwayhearted @lechrts @spidybaby @sakashq @joaoflms @h4vertzz
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doctorho · 2 days ago
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dripping velvet, purring dark
Academy era Viktor x fem! curvy reader, 4.5k, no warnings only love in this house (ok there is a conversation about some people being idiots which can be interpreted as the reader getting unwanted attention at a party but it's nothing graphic or anything i promise and no-one is mean to her) also i made viktor horny and slightly subby because that's what the gremlins in my brain wanted. you're welcome. yeah! hi! not sure what this is, but here you go. the reader is described as she/her here (and curvy, and soft, and she is wearing an evening gown, because i wanted to think about pretty dresses). idk. have a thing. happy friday.
Viktor likes to think of himself as a person who's usually capable of focusing on things pretty well. On the task at hand. Give him a faulty circuit and he'll poke at it long enough to find the broken component, no problem. An error in the calculations? He'll find that missing minus sign or forgotten exponent, easy. He'll strip a wire in his sleep.
The task at hand now, though? The problem?
He had to sit through a whole evening of presentations at the academy end-of-year party, put on a polite face for the investors, and pretend not to care that one idiot after another was lining up to flirt with you while he was watching from the sidelines. You were wearing a dress that felt sinful to look at, and there was something primitive gnawing at the inside of his chest begging to be let out, and he had to just stand there and nod through the conversations, pretend he wasn't slowly boiling from the inside out.
And he was failing miserably. 
He’d known he was in trouble from the moment he saw you that night – all expensive fabric covering smooth curves and soft-looking skin, sparkling eyes and easy smiles, and he’d been done for. Before this, it’d been much easier to compartmentalize his feelings; before this, it'd been easier to ignore them. 
Before he’d kept his distance, emotionally and physically speaking, because, well, it’d been easier. He'd seen you around the Academy, all bubbling laughs and raw-honest radiant smiles and confident solutions, and he'd known that you looked…appealing, but he wasn't in the habit of holding up any illusions about what you might think of him in return. His place was in the dark dusty corner of the lab, turning over the ever-ticking problems, while you were out there shining like the sun. And sometimes you came by the lab, with new ideas or suggestions or just to borrow some equipment or ask about a shipment, and he had resigned to his role of staying at his desk pretending he wasn't burning to be closer to your orbit. 
But when he sees you in the low lighting of the party, leaning to the bar and laughing, something just breaks in him. And then he can’t pretend to ignore it any longer. And sure, maybe he’s a little bit drunk, it was easier to stand these events that way, but it still feels like a solid-honest truth in his bones that he wanted to get closer to you, and suddenly he couldn’t stand the conversation he was in the middle of. Because one of them – the sour idiots he’d catalogued in his head for the whole night, the stupid people trying to impress you with their embellished stories and inherited wealth who weren’t worth your time – one of them was circling you like a hyena again, smiling.
You were wearing a dark, floor-length gown that wasn’t, on a purely technical level, much different from what about 50% of the other guests were wearing. However, it seemed to create a significant caveat that even though there wasn’t anything indecent in the dress itself, seeing it on you made him feel like maybe he shouldn’t look at you for too long or he might spontaneously combust. There was a slit on the side that revealed a more than generous amount of leg when you walked, and his focus kept wandering from that to your silhouette, the soft curve of your hips, your chest, your face – no, that’s worse, don’t stare, she'll notice – and truly, he had to force himself to keep his eyes at least vaguely on the vicinity of the person who was currently talking to him. Something about statistics and return investment. Yes. 
He nods, pretending to look interested.
The dress drapes over your hips in soft little cascades, the fabric shimmering lightly as you moved, and something in his brain was itching, begging to run his fingers over it, to know what it feels like, to know what you feel like under it, all soft and warm and pliable under his fingers, and preferably sighing something into the crook of his neck, and–
“We'd like to get our investment back within a year,” the guy that's talking to him says – Viktor can't even remember his name, and he doesn’t really even care – and he just shifts his eyes back to the guy slowly. 
“A year?” he repeats, with the barest amount of feigned interest, and the guy goes off in a whole new tangent. Viktor shifts his posture, and lets his eyes glide over to where you were again. 
One of those idiots, one he thankfully doesn’t have the displeasure of knowing personally but who must be the son of some crooked diplomat, says something to you and you scoff through a smile, roll your eyes, and lean further into the counter at the bar. Viktor has to pretend to be present for his own conversation – yes, the new coating material for the wires was more heat-resistant, no, there was still the issue of mechanical stress, they were working on it – and you say something in answer to the current idiot (third of the night, he’d counted), and it is killing him that he doesn’t know what it is. 
You’d turned down the first two, from what he could tell. But this latest idiot was still talking to you, like he was in any way entitled to your company. And it's making something inside Viktor raise its hackles, and he doesn’t especially like feeling like that, because he couldn't justify feeling like that to himself in any tangible way, and then it all just boiled down to a resigned even if she deserves better than that i have no business dictating that for her. 
He's just about to focus on the conversation he was supposedly participating in again when something happens. He can't make out the details, but imbecile number three seems to lean way too close to you, says something, and smiles in a way that makes something cold creep down the back of Viktor's neck. And your expression coldens, too, and you say something to him, and turn away, more rigid than you'd been the whole evening. 
“Excuse me,” Viktor is saying to the Investment Guy before he can fully think it through, his own voice feeling distant in his ears, and then he's walking to the bar. 
You're alone – the idiot had had the sense to leave you alone quickly, at least. That's good. Viktor isn't sure what he's doing, but then he's leaning to the bar next to you and ordering another drink and trying to look like he isn't thinking too hard about what to do next. 
“Whatever he just proposed to you,” Viktor says slowly, looking over the bar instead of directly at you, “I assure you you can do better.”
He can hear you take a deep breath, shift a little, and sigh it out with what sounded like almost a laugh. 
“Yeah,” you agree, “I don't know what it is about people like that that makes them think they can just…” You sigh again, and make a hand gesture towards the room. ”You know.”
“Unfortunately,” he answers, resigned, “yes. I do.” 
He gets his drink and thanks the bartender, and then leans to the counter too, mimicking your posture, holding the drink and letting it swirl around in his glass. “Have you talked with anyone actually worth your time tonight?” 
You hmm. Then, “there was a little girl earlier that told me some fascinating things about insect metamorphosis.” You say casually. 
And Viktor laughs. Without meaning to, he laughs, and you smile in response, visibly relaxing a little.
“I don't think she was on the guest list though.” You continue. 
He hums in response, and rearranges his grip on the handle of his cane. “Sounds much more interesting than the conversations I've been in tonight.”
“I know,” you answer, and he can hear the smile in your voice, “you think we could swap out one of the main speakers with her?” 
He hmms again, looking over the stage thoughtfully. “I think it would count as a public service,” he nods a little, considering the list of speakers yet to come, “what do you think, who'd be a good target?”
You shift in your place, looking over the same list of speakers, plastered over the walls on both sides of the stage. “The financial talk,” you answer, “Mr. Ross. I'd much rather listen to insect facts than another boring talk about investing.”
Viktor nods. “You distract him, I'll whack him unconscious?” he offers, and you laugh. You laugh, and it warms something in him. 
“And then what?” you continue, still smiling, and he has to look away to keep his composure. 
He shrugs. “Eh,” he answers, “we drag him to a bathtub somewhere and act like he just passed out there?" He shrugs, "I happen to know three ways to get out of this room that I'm pretty sure we could use unnoticed.”
“Uh-huh,” you answer, “and then we just find the girl and ask her if she wants to talk about bugs for half an hour. Easy.”
“Exactly,” he agrees, “and then we congratulate ourselves for making the evening better for everybody.”
"Except maybe Mr. Ross."
"No," he counters, looking over the crowd, "I think he would prefer a nice little nap. Surely not even he wants to hear himself talk all the time." He takes a sip of his drink, "and I think waking up in a bathtub would be a nice change of pace to the rumors of other places he seems to have a habit of waking up in after events such as these."
“Good point,” you shift in your place, settling to lean to the counter a bit closer to him. “Perfect plan. But why'd you get to whack him unconscious and not me?”
Viktor blinks. Lifts one eyebrow. “Because you are by far more distracting than I am,” he answers, “and I thought the plan could use the distraction.”
“I don't think that's true,” you answer, “I think you're plenty distracting on your own.”
Now, he lets himself look at you. Really, properly look at you, and not even half-trying to hide it. You're smiling now, shoulders relaxed, holding your drink with fingers wrapped loosely around it, and in the warm lights of the bar there's a golden glow on your skin, and something breathless at the bottom of his stomach is aching to get closer to you, to touch you, to see if his hand would fit on your waist as well as he thinks it would, to see how you would react to that, if he could make you smile in a different way, what sounds he could get you to make for him–
“Agree to disagree,” he says, averts his eyes, and takes a sip of his drink. 
Tries to tell that wild-hungry purring thing in him to behave. 
Someone reasonable comes to talk to you – and it's about work, which is…something, probably, he has to stop himself from thinking it's better than those earlier idiots, because who's he to decide that for you? He gives you a casual wave and a nod as you depart with a smile and get swept up in the conversation about new ideas and solutions and this-new-thing you've been looking at. And he watches as you start talking excitedly, all golden and glittering, easy conversation and confident smiles, and quietly (not-so quietly) he concludes that maybe you hadn't had many worthwhile conversations with any of the guests that night because you were the most worthwhile person in there to talk to. 
He stays there sipping his drink and wondering what would be the closest appropriate time to slip out. He'd made an appearance, and technically nothing could be expected from him beyond that point. Sure, Jayce might tell him he could've stayed a bit longer, he could use the support, but nothing dramatic would happen. 
The party drones on, and he makes no effort to move – and really, he tries not to think about it too much, but that was at least in part because he wanted to keep looking at you. He promptly ignores this, even when you're laughing at something someone else said and that heavy-dark-purring something at the bottom of his stomach doesn't like it very much. 
Someone comes to ask for his opinion on something, and with a tiny sigh, he lets them pull him into the loop of conversations again. Yes, we are trying to simplify the design, no we can't cut back from the materials, they are what they are for a reason. 
Somewhere around his third ‘Why would you think that?’ of that particular conversation, he's had enough. People were stupid, and he's had enough. He's just trying to come up with ways to get out of the conversation preferably without starting a scandal of some sort, when he feels a gentle hand on his shoulder. He turns around to look at who it belongs to, and then everything in his head is quiet for a moment. 
“Hey,” you say, smiling, “sorry to interrupt, but can I steal you away for a moment?” you ask, slipping your hand feather-light down his arm, and he has to suppress a shiver. 
Viktor furrows his brows and opens his mouth, and then, like an idiot, says nothing. But he turns to leave, thankful for the window of opportunity.  
“You remember that thing we talked about before?” you continue as you steer him away from the earlier group smoothly, “I found someone who's interested in those three escape routes you had up your sleeve.” 
“Who?” he asks, because that's the only thing he can think of. You've linked your arm with his, and you're leaning on him, and you're soft and warm and you smell good, and he doesn’t trust his ability to form a full sentence. 
“Me,” you answer, “and judging by how you just looked out there,” you continue, “you.”
Viktor swallows, and something in his brain purrs at the idea. 
“This way,” he says, nodding towards an old stage exit, and honestly, he doesn’t even care why you want to leave, he's just grateful for the distraction and the company and drinking in every warm square inch of skin contact that you're willing to give him, even if it is just walking with your shoulder pressed against his. 
If it turned out to be a plot where you actually wanted to whack someone unconscious, he'd worry about that later. For now he was just happy to leave, and happier that you were leaving with him. 
It's easy to slip away from the crowd, and into the space between the stage curtain and the wall, if you know where you're going. You effortlessly fall a bit further from his side but keep his hand on yours, letting him pull you along, and quietly he wonders how and why and holy shit. He decides not to question it though, and keeps walking through the dim space between the cold old wall and the cascades of warm heavy velvet curtains. 
“Do you want to leave the party,” he asks, voice quiet now that the background buzz of people was muffled by the curtain, “or just get away from it?” 
You hmm behind him, clearly through a smile, and he makes the mistake of looking back at you. Surrounded by the dark red velvet curtains and only slivers of light from each side, his head – and the rest of his body – get entirely the wrong idea of what you're doing in there, because you look like a goddess in the small dim space, and he might crumble into ashes if he keeps looking at you, or he might do something stupid like pull you closer and press you into the wall, to see if your eyes would widen, if you'd gasp from the cold wall, if he could find other ways to make you gasp–
so he turns his eyes away and keeps talking. 
He quickly finds he has to clear his throat before he can do that. “There is a staff entrance that goes past the kitchen a little ways further,” he says, and motions forwards, “or there is a disused indoor balcony surrounding the stage. You would be able to see the party, but it'd feel…removed.”
You lean closer, close enough that when your voice is muffled by the surrounding velvet, it feels like you're speaking right in his ear, and he has to swallow and remind himself that that's just situational coincidence, nothing more. 
“Why do you know so many ways to get out of here?” you ask, “You sneak out a lot?” 
“I am a fan of interesting architecture,” he answers, “and not as much a fan of pretentious social gatherings.” 
“Fair,” you answer, then lean your chin on his shoulder, and he feels like his spine might spontaneously melt. “In your expertise, what would you recommend?”
“Well,” he says, trying to make it sound casual and like he wasn't breathless at all, “I think the balcony has some fairly interesting architecture.” And the lights of the party would look pretty from there. And you'd both get a breather away from the crowd. And he'd get to keep talking to you a little bit longer. And, as selfish as the thought felt, he couldn't deny it; he'd get to keep having you to himself for a little bit longer. 
“Show me the balcony,” you smile, and he obliges. Happily, he obliges. So he pulls you into a narrow staircase, and then, up. 
At the end of it there is a room that could, only by technical definition alone, be called a balcony – it was more like a hole carved into the wall, having at some point been used for seating or equipment space at events and concerts, and now just served as half-forgotten extra storage. It had, he supposed, once upon a time looked like the banquet hall did, all smooth surfaces and warm lights and thematically switched-out decorations, but now it was mostly the standard red velvet and dark wood and light marble, forgotten by the party and some of the golden light from the hall spilling into it by pure coincidence. There were velvet curtains on each side of the room, and you drop his hand to go look over the railing, and down at the party. 
His hand instantly feels cold without yours in it, but he tries his best to ignore this, and follows you to look down at the party, too. 
It looks much smaller from up there. Less chaotic. 
“I didn't know there was a space like this here.” You say quietly, “can they see us?” 
“Part of the design,” he answers, “you're not supposed to notice these spaces unless people want you to. Good place to hide extra orchestra pieces and make it feel like the sound is coming from nowhere. And–” he looks over at the people, colorful and mingling, “no, they can't. Not unless you want them to.” Then, he smiles, just a little. “But they'll be able to hear us, if we direct our voices upwards and wait for things to quiet down there first.”
You turn to look at him. 
“Sloped ceilings,” he explains with a shrug, “again, good for a hidden orchestra accompaniment.” 
“But they can't hear us talking?*
“Not over themselves,” he answers, “ironic, I know.”
You hum thoughtfully and turn around, with your back to the railing, and then you look at him and he needs to kick his brain back in line. You were gorgeous in the dim lighting, all relaxed and smiling, and–
He grips the handle of his cane a little tighter. 
“Good,” you say, and the way you say it – all quiet and warm and liquid – makes something in him purr again, entirely against his better judgement. 
“Why is it good?” he asks, because he has to hold on to some semblance of logic here, because otherwise he might just vaporize out into the atmosphere. 
“Why do you think?” you ask, slowly turning to face him, and oh that just isn't fair. You're just there, just a warm breath of space away, all soft and pretty and languid–
He doesn’t know what to say, so he goes with what feels like the safest course of action. 
“In case we want to plot any more ways to violently derail the evening's program?”
You exhale a small laugh and lean back. 
And then you lift a hand on his chest, and he's pretty sure his heart might be overheating soon. 
“Sure,” you answer, “that.” You inch closer, and Viktor is having a hard time remembering how to breathe. “Or anything else we might not want them overhearing.”
“Like?” He exhales, careful not to break the moment, and then you smile, warm and private and for him, and his insides liquify into warm, honey-thick goo, and oh, he’s not going to recover from this. 
“Like,” you repeat slowly, and then you push yourself away from the balcony railing, just slightly, into the side of the wall covered by the velvet curtain, and he lets you pull him with you, he's not stupid. His brain – along with the rest of his body – might be in the process of actively melting, but he's not stupid. If you wanted to pull him into a shadowed, velvet-covered corner, he would follow no questions asked, especially on a night like this when his insides were buzzing and you looked like that. When you looked at him like that. You smile again, and stop moving when your back hits a wall, and then you pull him just close enough to whisper into his ear. “...Anything else we might not want them overhearing.” you repeat, and, yeah, Viktor is close to becoming the best documented case of human combustion in recorded history. 
In the dim lighting, he searches your eyes into his, and you watch him, waiting, radiating heat between him and the velvet-covered wall. He's not sure why you were acting like this, but all signs were pointing towards you wanting the same thing he did, and he's not sure what he did to get this lucky, but with his every cell buzzing and vibrating and keening over to get closer, he wasn't about to let the opportunity pass. 
He wants to ask ‘why me’ or ‘are you sure’ but what comes out is a broken, desperate whisper of a “can I touch you?”, and you answer with a grin and with your fingers tangled to the front of his shirt, pulling him closer. 
“Yes,” you breathe, “please.”
And really, he wouldn't have thought it would be so simple, but it's the please that does him in – just one whispered word and his brain short-circuits in an overflowing flash of white-hot need. Need to trigger that again, need to please, and need to finally give in to the pleasure waiting to boil. And then it all comes rushing out; the hunger. 
His hands are on your waist in an instant, and his cane clatters to the ground as he leans his weight on you and the wall and for a moment, he has the sense to hope the curtains don't come tumbling down, and they don't, which is good enough for him, because then he can let go of that particular worry and focus solely on finding your lips to his and making the most of every second of this that you're willing to give him. 
The sensations hit his brain like flashes of bright light; how soft you are under his fingers, like he'd hoped, the fabric smooth and silky, giving away easily under his touch. How warm you are, warm and breathing in a fluttered little gasp, the dusty old velvet mixing in with your sweet scent, and then when he gets his lips on you–
After that it's just golden-dark-velvet-honey-thick bliss. You breathe out a small sound that drips down his spinal cord and goes straight to the purring pit at the bottom of his stomach, and he swallows it with a hungry, greedy, desperate groan that comes from somewhere deep inside his chest, and his head is swimming with warm and real and soft and for me–
He is happily overloading his brain with this, and he doesn’t even care. He presses closer to you and you exhale another sweet little sound that makes him bare his teeth, and then his lips are on your neck and he doesn’t know anything except that he wants you to keep making those sounds and he likes the way your hands tangle in his hair and tug. 
“Tell me what you want,” he mutters to the skin of your neck, pulling you closer by the waist, and absolutely relishing in the way your chest rises and falls with short little pants he can hear you take in and out. In and out, and as he tugs at your waist again, just a bit closer, and drags his teeth against your pulse lightly, one of those exhales turns into a sweet little whine. 
He grins against your skin. 
He doesn’t waste the time or energy pretending he isn't an absolute mess over you, right now – his own breathing ragged and fast and his heart hammering in his ears, his whole body buzzing with want – but that didn't mean seeing you react that way didn't make him want to purr. 
Didn't make his insides heat up with I did that. I got her like this. She made that sound for me. For me. It's mine. 
You take a breath, slow and rugged, and then you tug him towards one of the velvet-covered seats. And he moves like he's floating, letting you guide him, because what else is he going to do? You tug him into the seat and he sits on it, gladly, and stays there looking up at you with his eyes wide and only half-lidded and his heart hammering, waiting for more. 
You give him another one of those small, private, knowing smiles, your eyes hazy, and then you step to stand right in front of him. 
And then you hover over him, just waiting for him to pull you into his lap. He does, because he is selfish and greedy and burning, and he's pretty sure he's going to implode if he doesn’t get that delicious pressure on him soon, and his hand fits your waist perfectly, and then when when you do straddle him, your hips pressing down on his, he whines. He lets out a breathless little whine, he can feel it in the base of his spine, and it makes that hunger in him want more. 
“Only the voices directed upwards travel down there, right?” you ask, voice quiet and dripping right into his ear and pooling at the bottom of his stomach. 
He swallows. “Yes.” 
You hum thoughtfully, and press your body closer to his, all soft and warm and perfect, sinking your lips down to his neck and he shivers, instinctually tilting back his head with a sigh, exposing more of his neck to you. 
“Better keep quiet, then.” 
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amphitriteswife · 20 hours ago
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Heir
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Pairing: Emperor Geta x wife reader
Warning: nsfw content. Also he’s hairy because i say so okay. You are too because it’s normal to have hair there. I’m bad at smut. Idk squirting ig
Summary; Geta was thinking about having a child after you once held one in your arms, unknown thay he was experiencing baby fever.
Note: i’m seeing the movie next monday aaaaaaahhhh and it got cringe to write this sorry🥲
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Geta walked up to your chamber, he had just gotten back from visiting another temple. This time the temple of Juno. He had visited Venus last week and found that it was pretty effective. His cape was dragging in the cold, flat tiles. He hadn’t seen in you in a while even if you were his wife. It was common for you to spend your time occupied with something or with someone else. It’s not like you hated him, no. He knows that you love him and only him. But the duty of the empress calls just as often as the duty of the emperor. The last time he had seen you was when the both of you sat in the throne room, you holding a baby and giving your blessing to the little one. He doesn’t know why, he really doesn’t. But that interaction had sparked something in him. You were holding the baby so gently, and it looked up at you as if it could feel your gentleness. The way your eyes held a soft gaze, something you only shared to the peasants and children. You looked so motherly that it made him wonder: what would it be like if you indeed had a child? Ofcourse he knows that such a thing is not an easy task nor job.
He knows that in the early staged when the two of you were just newly wed, that you didn’t want any children. You found it to be too soon. Too much work. He knew your stance on it. It meant your life was now about the child on top of being and empress and wife. There was going to be a lot on your shoulders if you indeed had his child. But apart from that, it also raises the discussion of the baby being a boy or a girl. Most would think that a boy would be the ideal child, it would take over his legacy and conquer more land. It would be a good emperor and continue his bloodline. Yes it always had been like that. But girls are cuter, and he can’t deny that girls usually seem to be daddy’s children. Besides he has his brother who counts as a child…having a girl doesn’t seem so bad…men just exaggerate. Yes. They’re just dramatic. Baby girls are cute. Geta snickered to himself as his mind wandered to images if him holding a baby girl in his arms, brushing her hair and her smiling at him. She’ll be so cute! But…his mind also wandered to images of having a son, teaching him how to use a sword or spear…making sure he turns out into a great man, husband and emperor….oh gods on mount Olympus help him. He can’t decide. He wants both. They’re both so cute. So little. His heart feels as if it’s about to burst. Geta’s footsteps came to a halt, his eyes wandering over you. You were eating pomegranates…it made him sigh. You always had a fixation on Proserpina and Pluto. Many often even feared to speak their names yet here you are, eating the fruit they symbolize. But then again, it’s not like he doesn’t know you. It’s such a you thing, being so daring. It makes you sexy. He noticed that you were reading something. Probably about taxes. At least that’s what he assumes. His eyes lingering on your stomach…he feels weird, did you notice him being weird too?
‘What are you staring at emperor?’
The question made him let out a stunned sound. He hadn’t realized that you were looking at him while he was staring. Did you notice something? Should he tell you? Yes, he should. It’s making him feel very weird and he really wants it. Besides, it won’t hurt to have a conversation about it right? Yes you had your stance but maybe you changed your mind? After all you had grown to love him and he loved you back. Perhaps you shared his desire to have a child? It won’t hurt to ask. He walked over to you, his heart a pumping a little faster, he didn’t necessarily feel nervous…just a little���scary. His hands fumbling a little with his cape as he say down next to you on the sofa. Placing your legs in his lap and rubbing your legs.
‘Empress…do you have a moment?’
‘Yes, speak your mind emperor.’
‘I wish to have a child with you…i am uncertain as to why i suddenly feel this way, but it has been on my mind for quite a while. I do not expect to have one right away. But i would like to actively try for one.’
Your silence made him a little nervous. Did you not feel the same way? He doesn’t want to force you to do anything you don’t want to. It’s just an idea…an idea that makes him feel very aroused and made him lay awake for many nights. He feels embarrassed, embarrassed that his mind is filled with such scenarios. He wants to try for a baby. Oh my gods he wants to have a baby. He has to make one…which means he has to has sex with you! His expression turned a little shocked. He totally hadn’t thought about that. The two of you never did it before. Venus help him! He can’t take this!
‘Emperor? Hello? Emperor! You look like a gaping fish!’
‘Ah- uhm sorry i was thinking about…stuff.’
‘Oh…okay…but to answer your question, i had been thinking about the same thing.’
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The room was filled with the sounds of pleasure, mainly Geta’s voice overpowering any other. Even the sound of skin coming into contact with one another, his hand’s were holding your hips, moving along with your figure going up and down in an unsteady rhythm. He knows that you’re doing it on purpose. He knows it, you’re trying to make him come first. The many rings around his fingers felt cold against your skin, making you shiver when they moved along with you. Geta watched as he saw himself disappear into you, he could feel the wetness of your pussy staining his ginger pubes. His lips came unto contact with your neck, licking along side it and sucking onto your skin, he took his hands away from your hips and instead wrapped your arms around you. His mouth dry from the moaning and groaning, geta’s fingers reached for your folds, his lips pressing onto yours as he rubbed his fingers against your clit. His middle finger flicked against your clit, rubbing and stimulating it until he felt a sudden gush of warm liquid against his hand and a strangles of moans from you. Geta smiled and grabbed your face with his other hand, making you look back at him and pressed his lips against yours, the insides of his mouth invading yours. His eyes focused on the wet spot on the bed.
Geta moaned in your mouth before pulling away. He flipped you on your back, pulling your legs over his shoulders and leaning into you. His hands grabbing his heavy cock and gently pushing the tip inside if you. His voice was deep and hoarse when he whispered in your ear.
‘There we go…shhh…it’s okay…I’ll make you feel good okay?’
He moved slowly, only letting the tip enter your body and holding you steady, his voice laced a little with concern. He patted your pussy with the tip of his fingers. The soft and gently touch to your sensitive clit making you groan a little.
‘Are you holding on my empress?’
He chuckled when you nodded at him and placed another kiss onto your lips. Geta hummed in your mouth and have you a wink, his other hand drinking your hair. You’re holding on so well. You deserve a reward.
‘Think you can take it all? We’ll do it slowly okay?’
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lechrts · 16 hours ago
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Could’ve Fooled Me. ✷ Ollie Bearman
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Pairing: Ollie Bearman x Schoolmate!reader
Summary: When Ollie does something “probably stupid.”
Word Count: 2.1k
Vera's Voice! this was so stupid not gonna lie. Jusr. Just read idk. Lmk. Bye. have fun.
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Your dynamic with Ollie had always been a strange one. A mix of heated arguments and undeniable chemistry that made everyone around you raise an eyebrow.
He was infuriatingly confident, with that perpetual smirk like he already knew the answer to a question you hadn’t even asked yet.
You weren’t sure when your mutual distaste turned into something resembling... whatever this was. It wasn’t quite hatred anymore, but it wasn’t exactly a friendship either. It was more like a magnetic pull—one you both resisted fiercely.
Until, of course, you were paired for a history presentation.
So cliche.
“Fate’s a cruel thing,” You muttered under your breath the day your teacher announced the pairings.
Ollie shot you a grin as you plopped into the vacant seat beside him. “You know, if you wanted to spend more time with me, you could’ve just asked.”
You rolled your eyes, but the sharp pang in your chest at his teasing felt alarmingly like excitement.
It was supposed to be simple. You’d meet at his house, finish your slides, rehearse your presentation, and be done with it.
In and out, no distractions.
You stood outside his door, the chill December air biting at your fingertips as you hesitated. The nerves in your stomach were new, unsettling. It wasn’t like you hadn’t argued with Ollie a hundred times before. It wasn’t like you hadn’t sat next to him in class, stolen pens from his desk, or rolled your eyes at his sarcastic comments.
This just felt... different.
When he opened the door, wearing a plain sweatshirt and grey joggers, hair messy like he hadn’t bothered to tame it, you almost forgot how to speak.
“Are you gonna keep standing there, or are you coming in?” He asked, leaning casually against the doorframe.
“Just soaking in the joy of this moment,” You replied sarcastically, stepping inside with mock dramatics.
When he led the way to his room, you were shocked to see how neat it was. It smelled faintly like him—some mix of cedarwood and mint that you hated how much you noticed. The space was tidy, a little more put together than you’d expected, with a sleek desk by the window and shelves lined with racing memorabilia.
“Wow,” You said, gesturing to the small shrine of karting trophies, back from when he still raced. “How modest of you.”
He smirked, sitting on his bed. “What can I say? I’m amazing.”
“And humble.”
“And humble,” He echoed, grinning.
You rolled your eyes, plopping down on the carpeted floor next to his bed and pulling your laptop out of your bag.
“Alright,” You said briskly, needing to focus. “Let’s get this over with.”
But working with Ollie was, as expected, impossible.
You closed your eyes, counting to three.
Do not murder him in his own home.
Do not murder him in his own home.
Do NOT. murder him in his own home.
“Fine. You pick the font,” You said, shoving the laptop toward him since he had been pestering you about the title screen for the past ten minutes.
“Gladly.”
He leaned over, now sat beside you ever since he joined you on the floor many moments ago. You hated the way your heart jumped when his arm brushed against yours. It wasn’t even a full touch, just the faintest contact, but it sent a ripple of awareness through you.
“So!,” He said after a moment, his voice annoyingly casual, “Why do you hate me so much?”
“I don’t hate you,” You said automatically, though it came out a little sharper than intended.
He glanced at you, one brow raised. “Yeah, right.”
You sighed, focusing on the textbook in front of you to avoid looking at him. “You’re just...distracting.”
“Distracting?” He repeated, his tone shifting. He leaned back slightly, but you could still feel the weight of his gaze. “How am I distracting?”
“Because you never take anything seriously,” You said quickly, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “You joke about everything. It’s like nothing gets to you, and it’s—”
“It’s what?” He pressed, his voice softer now.
“Annoying.”
He didn’t respond right away, and the silence stretched, thick and heavy. When you finally glanced up, he was watching you with an intensity that made your stomach flip.
“What?” You asked defensively, suddenly self-conscious.
“Nothing,” He said, leaning back against his bed. His smirk was gone, replaced by something unreadable. “You’re just....”
He shook his head, looking almost embarrassed. “Never mind.”
Your chest felt tight, like the air between you had shifted into something you couldn’t name. You tried to shake it off, focusing back on the slides, but it was no use.
When you reached for your pen, he reached for it at the same time. Your fingers brushed, and you both froze.
Neither of you moved, the air suddenly crackling with tension. His hand was warm, his touch hesitant but lingering.
“Um.. ” He said quietly, his voice lower than usual, clearing his throat as if he had something to say.
Your heart was pounding, so loud you were sure he could hear it. “Hm?”
He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Do you really think I don’t take anything seriously?”
You blinked, caught off guard. “What are you talking about?”
“I mean it,” He said, his voice steady now. “Do you actually think I don’t care about anything?”
The vulnerability in his tone took you by surprise. You hesitated, then shook your head. “No. I just think... you hide it. Behind all the cockiness and idiocy.”
He didn’t deny it. Instead, his eyes searched yours, like he was trying to figure something out.
And then, suddenly, his hand was on yours again—not hesitant this time, but deliberate.
“Um.” You cleared your throat. “What are you doing?” You whispered, your voice shaky.
“Probably something stupid,” He murmured, and before you could respond, his lips were on yours.
It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t soft. It was everything you’d been holding back since the day you met him—frustration, anger, and all the butterflies you refused to admit you felt. His hand cupped your cheek, pulling you closer, and your brain short-circuited as the world tilted on its axis.
You kissed him back, your fingers tangling in his hair before you could think better of it. It was messy, intense, infuriatingly perfect.
When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, the rosiness on both of your cheeks clearly evident.
“That,” You managed, voice shaky, “Was definitely stupid.”
“Yeah?” He said, grinning despite the pink tint to his features. “Then why’d you kiss me back?”
You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came.
Because he was right. And, worse, he knew it.
You sat there, blinking at him, your brain still catching up to what had just happened. Ollie was looking at you like he’d won something—smirking, flushed, and utterly insufferable.
“Well?” He asked, his voice annoyingly smug. “No witty comeback? No insult? Should I be concerned?”
You narrowed your eyes, shaking off the daze. “I’m just... processing the fact that you have the audacity to act like you weren’t the one who kissed me.”
“Oh, I absolutely kissed you,” He said, confidently admitting it as he straightened his posture, “But you kissed me back…”
“With enthusiasm, might I add.”
You scoffed, though your cheeks were burning. “You’re delusional.”
“Am I?” He leaned closer, his smirk widening. “Because I’m pretty sure you had your hands in my hair. Very passionately..”
“That doesn’t mean I wanted to kiss you!” You argued, pointing at him.
He tilted his head, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Right. You were just being polite. Kissing me back to avoid hurting my feelings?”
“Exactly,” You said, chin tilting up. “It was a momentary lapse in judgment. A... reflex.”
“Hmm,” He mused, clearly not buying it. He tapped a finger on his lips, pretending to think. “So, if I kissed you again, purely as an experiment, you wouldn’t kiss me back?”
Your stomach flipped at the way he said again, but you refused to let him see it. “Exactly. No hesitation. I’d push you away immediately.”
He raised an eyebrow, leaning closer still. “Immediately?”
You hated how his voice dropped, soft and teasing, like he knew exactly what kind of effect he had on you.
“Yeah,” You said firmly, though the word came out weaker than you intended.
His eyes flicked to your lips, then back up to meet your gaze. “Prove it.”
“What?”
“Prove it,” He repeated, his voice low and challenging. “If you’re so sure you wouldn’t kiss me back, let’s test your little theory.”
Your breath hitched as the space between you seemed to shrink. “Your ego is insane.”
“Maybe,” He said, grinning, “But, you still haven’t moved.”
And damn it, he was right.
You hadn’t moved.
In fact, you were leaning in ever so slightly, your resolve crumbling under the weight of his presence.
“Ollie,” You said, your voice more a warning than anything else.
“Hm?,” He hummed back, and then he kissed you again.
This time, you had no excuse. No reflex, no momentary lapse in judgment. You kissed him back because you wanted to—because, for once, you didn’t want to fight it.
But you weren’t about to let him have the last word.
When you broke apart, his hands still framing your face, you couldn’t help but smirk at him. “Happy now?”
He let out a breathless laugh, resting his forehead against yours. “Very.”
“Well, don’t get used to it,” You said, pulling back slightly.
He cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, I’m definitely getting used to it.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“And you’re a terrible liar,” He shot back, brushing a thumb along your jawline.
You swatted his hand away, though your heart was still racing. “This doesn’t mean anything, you idiot.”
“Sure,” he said, his tone so casual it made you want to throttle him. “It’s just two people who hate each other making out in my bedroom. Totally meaningless.”
“It was meaningless.”
“Right.” His grin was maddening. “That’s why you’re still blushing.”
You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “I hate you so much.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do.”
“You just kissed me,” He reminded you.
“That doesn’t mean I don’t hate you!”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
You glared at him, but it was no use. The butterflies in your stomach betrayed you, fluttering wildly every time he smiled at you like that.
“Well,” You said finally, attempting to stand up and closing your laptop, “This has been a colossal waste of time. I’m leaving.”
“Oh, no, you’re not,” Ollie said, grabbing your wrist and pulling you back down. “You’re not running away from this.”
“I’m not running away!”
“Then stay.”
You hesitated, your pulse quickening. “Why should I?”
“Because,” he said, his voice softening in a way that made your heart ache, “I like you. Even when you drive me absolutely insane.”
You stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in.
You wanted to argue, to deflect with some sarcastic remark, but the sincerity in his eyes stopped you.
“Fine,” You said after a long moment, your voice barely above a whisper. “But only because we still have work to do.”
His grin returned, but it was softer this time, more genuine. “Sure. Work.”
You straightened back up, opening your laptop and pretending to focus on the screen, but you could feel Ollie’s gaze burning into you. He leaned against the edge of his bed, his smirk far too knowing.
Far too confident.
And then, after a few moments of tense silence, you sighed and closed your laptop with a sharp snap.
“Hm,” Ollie drawled, his voice dripping with amusement. “Giving up already?”
You shot him a look, your heart pounding so loud you were sure he could hear it. “We both know we’re not getting any work done tonight.”
His smirk faltered for a second, replaced by something softer, something that made your breath hitch. “Yeah,” he murmured, his voice low.
Before you could overthink it, his hand cupped your jaw, pulling you toward him. And then his lips were on yours again, and this time there was no hesitation, no awkward fumbling.
It was pure, unrelenting gravity.
You kissed him back again, with everything you had, your fingers finding the back of his neck, pulling him closer until there was no space left between you. He tasted like spearmint gum and something undeniably him, something you couldn’t get enough of.
Ollie’s hands slid to your waist, pulling you closer, like he couldn’t stand the distance. Your heart raced.
“You’re ridiculous,” You mumbled against his lips, barely able to catch your breath.
He grinned, his forehead resting against yours. “And you’re impossible.”
“And yet, here we are,” You shot back, your voice breathless but still laced with defiance.
“Here we are,” He echoed, his fingers brushing along your jaw before tilting your head back for another kiss. This one was slower, deeper, like he was taking his time memorizing every detail.
Somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew this was a terrible idea. But in that moment, with Ollie’s lips on yours and his hands keeping you grounded, you couldn’t bring yourself to care.
When you finally pulled away, your lips swollen and your heart pounding, you stared at him. He looked just as dazed as you felt, his hair slightly tousled, his lips red from kissing.
“Yeah,” You said, breaking the silence, “We’re definitely failing.”
Ollie laughed, his smile so wide and genuine it made your stomach flip. “Worth it.”
You groaned, dropping your head back and covering your face with your hands. “This is such a mess.”
He laughed, tugging your hands away so you had to look at him. “Maybe,” He said, his tone softer now, “But, it’s a good kind of mess.”
You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at your lips. “You’re such an idiot.”
“Your idiot, maybe,” He teased, leaning down to steal one last kiss before you could argue.
“Oh, hush it.” You laughed as the antics continued anyways.
And even though you would never admit it, you didn’t really mind whatever this was.
Could’ve fooled you.
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likes, comments, & reblogs appreciated! ^_^ let me know if u wanna be apart of my permanent tag list!!! :3
tags! @planetpedri @halfwayhearted @wdcbox @freyathehuntress
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tackykachowch · 1 day ago
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Oh yeah I forgot that there's this opinion that Silco "was blindsided by power and wealth" and "lost his way" and "he only did what he did to benefit himself all along" etc etc. Uh. Where- where did you get that from? I'm not even being sarcastic or something, I'm genuinely curious how you can come to this conclusion.
He operates from a crappy office in The Last Drop and the only attributes of wealth he has are cigars and whiskey(?). My man had one pair of pants for 10+ years and only got a fancy coat to look more intimidating. Besides, when chembarons proposed to give back the gemstone to Piltover so their sales don't drop even harder Silco refused. Also he was ready to give up his power when Jayce made imprisoning Jinx a requirement for Zaun to gain independence. Sure, he IS motivated to keep his daughter safe, but it would also mean that his goal will finally be achieved, so there's nothing left for him to do. Both wealth and power are only means to achieve a goal to him. He also doesn't really display that he gets the kick out of it, unlike councilors in Piltover.
"Well yes he wants Zaun to be independent, but only as he personally sees it" when did he EVER say that??😭😭😭😭 Every time he speaks on the topic he only mentions how he wants Zaunites to have opportunities, respect, "more than (Piltover's) runoff". Like- that's literally everything he ever said about this. All that matters to him is independence, he couldn't care less about everything else.
As to "losing his way"...idk I think this can only be attributed to pre-drowning Silco. Because after it he pretty much decided to stick to what he now believed in forever, and at no point except the finale he went south from his beliefs.
Silco isn't "misguided" or "corrupt" or any other similar definition. He's a character who chose to become a monster to bring change to his people. And as s2 didn't do anything about resolving this conflict, he was never really proven wrong.
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profundcherrylady · 3 days ago
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SINGLE DAD!SAE ITOSHI.
A/N: Finally writing about Sae's late wife because y'all have been begging me to (y'all: like 3 people). Honestly idk if I'm gonna make more parts of this one so sorry I can't think of anything else at the moment (and I have other themes I wanna write)
Warnings: Mentions of death (kinda explicit but not too much) and SOME angst, bc obviously he's gonna be sad. Lots of grieving (it all works out in the end trust 🙏)
Contents: Sae being a little careless and awkward lol, kid not knowing a single thing about keeping her thoughts to herself, some fluff but this is a weird mix of like three things at the same time including hurt/comfort. Implied fem!reader (usage of femenine pronouns for reader, reader being refered to as 'miss')
Description: After losing his daughter at the supermarket, y/n FINALLY makes and appearance and makes the tag "sae x reader" make sense for once.
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At the vegetable section, you struggled to choose between the various options to bring home for dinner. It shouldn't be this hard, since you were all by yourself most of the time, but you couldn't decide what you wanted to eat. It was then when you felt a gentle tug on your coat that made you look down, little teary teal eyes meeting yours and almost making you smile at the adorable sight of this kid staring at you in confusion.
"Hey sweetheart, what's wrong? Where are your parents?" you took notice of the lack of adult supervision this child had, since all the other adults around seemed to be either alone or not in panic of having lost a kid.
The girl opened her mouth to speak but then paused (seemingly reconsidering her words) and then spoke again, "Hi, my name is Mao Itoshi. I can't find my papa right now, can you help me find him or get me to the 'nearesest' 'autohority'?
And your heart almost melted at the way she messed up her little speech (which you assumed was given by her father in case she got lost). And how could you say no to helping this little angel? "Aw, of course honey, let's get you to your dad." you took her small hand in yours, ensuring she wouldn't get lost again, and started walking around in hopes to find her father. She still seemed a little scared and confused but you managed to calmed her down with the assurance of finding her dad. "What does he look like?"
"Um... he's... super tall and super cool-looking." you chuckled at her answer. Of course she wouldn't give you an actual description.
"I mean, what's the color of his hair or his eyes. Does he have eyes like yours?"
"Yeah."
"And what's his name?"
"...Papa?" you laughed again.
"You know your dad's name isn't 'papa', right? He has an actual name."
"He does??? What is it?"
"I don't know." you giggled. "Don't worry, I'm sure we'll know when we find him."
"Mao!!" a short-breathed, panicked voice interrupted your little conversation, and it was then when you spotted Sae for the first time. You weren't particularly interested in football, but even then Sae's reputation as the country's favorite midfielder was hard to ignore. One would think he wouldn't be out in a public space like this, but here he was, a totally different face as what was shown in the media. He looked just like a regular father, relived to have found his child.
"Papa!" the child beamed at the sight of her dad, and she let herself be carried and hugged as soon as he reached her.
"What were you thinking wandering around like that? You're just so- I've told you a million times- You are in so much trouble, young lady, you- What did you think would happen if-" he took a moment to breathe. In moments like this one, gentle parenting was probably one of the hardest things Sae has ever done. He tried his best to not loose his cool and scream at her; that wouldn't solve anything. The important thing was that she was safe and sound. "...You are going to give me a heart attack one of these days. Something bad could've happened to you, you know? I'm just... glad you're okay." and it was then when Sae first took notice of you, standing awkwardly trying to not ruin the little family reunion.
"She helped me get to you, papa." he heard his daughter explain, and it made sense because he knew the little girl would probably still be crying for her dad if no one was there to help. So although he would've liked to avoid the extra social interaction, he figured the least he could do was say thank you.
"Thank you for helping her. I've told her to not wander around, especially in big supermarkets like this, but she just won't listen sometimes..." you chuckled once again, now more from embarrassment than amusement at her antics.
"That's okay. I know how kids can be."
"You got any?" he inquired, and you shook your head with another laugh (which Sae didn't understand because he asked seriously).
"Nah. I mean, they're nice, I'm not saying I wouldn't like any, but I don't have any kids at the moment. Just little siblings; they can be just as difficult."
"You don't have to tell me twice..." he scrunched his nose a little at the thought of Rin as a child, and how difficult he was to handle, which in retrospective made it easy to figure how he got along so well with his niece (lil bro was just as problematic)
"But your kid seems nice. I'm sure she's a good child."
"When she wants to be... but mostly yes, I try to make sure she grows up to be good."
"I'm pretty sure she will."
"Are you single, miss?" Sae turned his head at his child so fast he might've breaked his neck, but he didn't care about that, he was too busy being shocked.
"Mao, don't ask people things like that."
"Why not? She's so nice to me, I like her. And you're single too!"
"That doesn't mean you can ask her if she's single. You need to think before you speak a little more, god..." he turned to you again, "So sorry about her; seems like she hasn't learned social norms yet." (Isn't that his job to teach her? Lol.) "We'll be going now, thanks again." with the still complaining child on his arms, he walked away to his shortly abandoned shopping cart, making sure to NOT set her down this time so he could keep an eye on her.
"Papaaaaa."
"Don't throw a tantrum in here, please... what's going on now? What you did was wrong, you know?" he sighed. "I don't you didn't mean anything bad, but you can't just ask any woman who is nice if she's single and try to set her up with me."
"Why not?"
"It just isn't correct, okay? Why are you insisting so much on this?" she pouted, hiding her face on his shoulder on an attempt to not talk to him. Sae rolled his eyes at the sight as he continued pushing the shopping cart through the aisles, then spoke again. "Come on, tell me."
"I wanna do the mommy-daughter dance at school..."
"Oh..." that made it make sense. "I could do it with you; you don't have to set up strange women with me for a parent-daughter dance."
"It's a mommy-daughter dance! It's not the same... I'm the only one who doesn't have a mom and the teacher says it's okay but I know my classmates are gonna think I'm weird." he hummed, understanding her feelings. Of course, he hadn't gone through anything similar, but he could get how she could feel singled out if she showed up to a mother-daughter dance with her father. He really did wish there was something he could do to make her feel a little better.
"Well, sweetie, there's not much I can do... you know I'm happy to do the dance with you if you want." he felt her lower her voice a little as he got closer to the line infront of the check-out.
"I know..."
"Don't get so sad... you're not going to be left out, I promise. It's the same thing, I mean, what difference does it make? I'm still a parent, and you said your teacher said it was okay."
"She did..." Sae's attempts to cheer up his daughter were failing, so he went straight to the only fool-proof plan he's ever known to always work.
"You want me to buy you ice-cream?"
"Okay..." he smiled a little for her, hoping to coax her to do the same, and once he was close enough to the small ice-cream freezer next to the cash register he opened the lid to take one for the little girl (one he knew for sure that she loved, just to be safe). But as he was taking out his hand he took notice of your presence, again. You looked even more surprised than him, but your expression quickly changed at the sight of the sad child.
"Aw... it's you again." you said, "why the long face, little one?"
"Don't mind her, she's upset about something... rightfully." Sae responded before Mao could. "Can't do anything about it though."
"A mother-daughter dance."
"And... why is that difficult...? Does she not have a...?"
"No."
"Oh... I'm very sorry." he answered you straight to the point. He was used to people asking about his late wife but he never bothered talking about it. It just... still hurt. And it kind of hurt even more knowing he couldn't give his daughter the one thing she yearned for the most, even though everyday he tried his hardest to give her the best life possible. He did everything in his power, he fought and struggled and worked day-to-day to be both a father and a mother somehow but it still wasn't enough. She still missed her mom as much as he did and the thought of replacing that woman was... well, there's just a reason why Sae was out of the dating game after his wife's passing.
And now he was here, teary-eyed child on his arms and a woman he only met once that same day on the supermarket, when the possibly stupidest idea came up to his brain, and he made the stupidest decision of saying it out loud.
"Listen, I know we don't... know each other technically but my daughter seems to think you're nice and... could you go with her to that dance? She just... she doesn't want to feel left out." he was also kind of desperate. Like really, really desperate because if he wasn't he wouldn't be asking this to a supermarket stranger. "You don't have to if you don't want to, but I... can't seem to find a solution to this. She'll settle to go with me if I tell her but she'll be sad and... people won't know you aren't actually her mom. It'll just be one night."
You doubted for a moment, but when you looked at that sad little girl with her big eyes full of tears, how on earth were you supposed to say no?
"Okay, I'll do it. I don't mind."
"And don't get me wrong, okay? I'm not trying to... replace her mother or anything; it's just that one night." he warned, and you nodded. "Thank you."
He tried to be nonchalant about it, however it was hard to deny the strange feelings he had about the situation. He closed himself off after his wife passed away and he promised to not try and find her a replacement, alas not get married again. This was the mother of his only child and the one woman he could say he's ever loved; how could he just throw that away dating someone else after she died like that? It felt wrong, somehow.
When he got married it was "til dead do us apart" so, what now that it did? He couldn't move on, no matter how much he tried. Even when his wife was dead he was struggling to process that he was a widowed man; whatever interaction he had with any woman for some reason still felt like a betrayal of his marriage. Like cheating. He was cheating on his wife who was no longer even alive. His daughter was motherless and he was a little bit of a coward. Many people had told him it was the grieving process and that the feelings would pass with time but they didn't feel like they were. He still teared up a little whenever he remembered that day when the stupid rain caused a stupid car crash that his wife wasn't even involved in yet got unjustly affected from the aftermath of the crash. Or when he got home and remembered he was one person short of a family. Yes, he had a daughter and furthermore a family to come home to, yet he felt... oddly lonely.
Was that normal? Was he allowed to feel lonely? How could he when she still had that child waiting for him at home and looking up to him, making him drawings and giving him hugs whenever she felt sad?
Maybe it was because he spent so much time working, or because his daughter spent a lot of time at her preschool, that it almost felt like it was just him. That he really was lonely.
So, fast-forward to a few months later, imagine his surprise when (before he could even realize it) you were part of his daily routine? It had become so frequent for his daughter to ask for your presence at school events or things like do her hair or just play together for a while that in a very short amount of time he found himself calling you over every weekend, and maybe making a little conversation with you while you were there. Then hours would pass and it would become a little too late for you to go home, so he'd offer you spend the night, and later inquire if you had dinner yet to make sure he had made enough food. The morning would come and with the moon hiding to let the sun rise you'd be gone as well; quick farewells before you rushed back to your own routine and his daughter would inevitably ask how much was left to see you again.
Then he'd chuckle at her impatience, staring at the door you just left through for a brief second.
And he'd say 'soon'.
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moonljte · 18 hours ago
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I HAVE AN ADDITION TO THIS!
Another duo of characters that I believe are the both sides of the same coin (in some way) is Aurelion Sol and Zoe.
Having Aurelion despising literally everyone, to have someone he tolerates is something.
Zoe is the kinda gal who is all about the fun and carelessness, but I truly believe that she isn't at all that naiive. She is mostly likely one of the most powerful beings in Runeterra. She can do whatever she wants, no limitations. As its shown on short stories, she tends to play with the human kids, but she ends up being cast out of the play or she ends up being bored. She knows she hasn't been a human for a long time. Zoe isn't stupid. She knows she is powerful, and little are the people who can match her. Now, if she does this on purpose or is simply an instinct I do not know, since every now and then, Zoe seeks Aurelion to talk and catch up on all the adventures she's been up to on Runeterra.
Aurelion's power clearly is no match for hers. Aurelion is also one of the strongest beings to exist. Even between his own species, he was clearly stronger, having slaughtered his brothers. Now, being a prisoner to the Targonians, he can not distract himself by forging his beloved stars anymore, Aurelion is truly alone. Doomed to serve the aspects will, he has grown lonely and bored since he doesn't have his constellations anymore.
The point is that they are both celestial beings that have been around for quite SOME time, and there is nobody else like them. Most of the aspects like Leona, Diana, Taric are recent hosts. No one understands the immensity of the power they owe. I believe Zoe seeks to him because he is the only one who might have the chance of understanding. She finds solace in that, even if that isn't she speaks of to him. It's shown that the girl visits him because she thinks he spends way too much time alone, and Zoe simply finds it sad. I believe she sees a bit of herself in him.
And for the dragon, he doesn't really have much choice, but through all his complaints about the annoying girl, he clearly appreciates it. He might not love it, but then it's better to have someone to hate than no one to really care about. She is said to take mooncakes to him and yap nonstop, this action is actually so cute. Zoe is the only one that doesn't go for him because she needs something done, it is simply for his company.
When he gets free, people theorize that he will end up sparing her life.
On the interaction:
" SPACE DRAGON! MAKE SOMETHING SHINY FOR ME!! "
" What about your favourite toy burning for the eternity? "
Clearly, the toy being Runeterra.
so idk I LOVE their dynamic, and I truly believe Aurelion is fond of their "friendship"
thinking about how swain and draven share qualities that explain why (at least to me) swain favours draven of all people to the extent that he does. like sure he's darius's brother and i guess he's also the face of noxian entertainment but what is stopping swain from crushing the life out of Some Guy who is annoying as all fuck most of the time and also doesn't even use magic (i.e. isn't really a threat compared to other players in the noxian faction). i think it's because swain understands that in some ways, they are both frauds, and rewarding draven is in some ways accepting his own position for what it is. here's this formerly disgraced (egomaniacal) public executioner playing showrunner and while he does have the skills to back up his claims, a lot of what makes draven feel like "draven" is not necessarily the actual display of skill, but the display of the grandeur around the act, the larger than life, loudmouthed personality that sets him apart from any other noxian hired as a contract killer, the constructed front of a self-made celebrity that is meant to entice and appeal to an audience vicariously seeking the thrill of spectacle. and on the other side of the same coin, here's this formerly disgraced (psychotic) nobleman playing grand general and while he does have the skills to back up his claims, a lot of what makes swain feel like "swain" is not necessarily the actual display of skill, but the display of the power around the act, the cunning and mysterious personality that is meant to instill an unshakeable fear in those around him and set him apart from his predecessors, the constructed front of a leader that is meant to entice and appeal to a citizenry seeking the crumbs of slightly better treatment. they are both performers who understand their roles well and rely heavily on their personas to obtain what they want, which is perhaps more fitting in the political landscape of noxus (e.g. ambessa's "be the fox and the wolf" lecture in arcane, leblanc as a literal manifestation of the illusions and deception at play behind the scenes) than the "traditional" concepts of self-identification with empire (e.g. loyalty, strength, etc.) as embodied by darius. and it would just be interesting to have swain, in an uncomfortable moment of self-awareness, realize that he and draven are not too different in their methods of self-preservation, and that if he is to crush draven in a fit of rage then is he really any better than a fraud who fears his own lies. idk to me they are just two guys who shared a period of existential crisis in their lives and are now besties.
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backpackingspace · 19 hours ago
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sinmas thoughts
Okay so I literally just finished the episode an hour ago! And !! Omg
Okay first off deeply concerned about a few things
Like yes yay the elsa bitch guy getting beat up was great but like how fucking easy is it going to be for him to turn around and go hey these peasants attacked me in my own home and it's back to them about to be executed. Like there's no fucking way there isn't consequences for this
Did anybody else notice millie getting punched by elsa bitch really fucking hard right in her lower stomach. Because I sure did! What if she's not pregnant after that what if she comes to terms with being pregnant and starts to get excited only to find out her baby was murdered before it even had a chance.
There were...a lot of fucking pill bottles there. Were they empty or did stolas just mass order his fucking pills. I am worried that via will start to take them. After all she's alone in a traumatic household with her world burning down around her
Speaking of via her powers!! Coming in! And them being sporadic as fuck and tied to her emotions? Can't wait for her to literally blow everybody up that'll be a fun time.
Still on via, bot really a concern just something I'm thinking about. The way via knew immediately not to argue with her mother, or even attempt to get her phone back or get an extra one or anything at all is very telling. The way she knew to just immediately put her headphones in and keep her head down and to go hide in her room. The way she went even further to hide in her closet before starting to sing? (How many times do we think she heard her mom berate her dad for singing) i think via knows her dad was being abused but hasn't yet fully realized what that means and is (understandablely) having a lot of feelings in every single direction.
Luna seems so much more happier and relaxed! She has friends now! She's laughing and smiling and not wearing exclusively dark clothes! She's openly calling blizo dad with out the grumbling! She just seems a lot more settled and happy now and honestly good for her!!
Idk why but I was not expecting stolas to sound like that. Just the way he said pussy caught me off guard for some reason. There were a couple other times where that happened but I don't really feel like listening them all out. Also. Fucking weird to be seeing stolas's pupils now.
Also!!! Stolas's face as m&m tore into each other. Wow. You know he was freaking the fuck out there and reliving some shit.
Speaking of background faces; the imp servants at the palace. Yah they all looked miserable and terrified. Not surprised but still yikes! With stolas they were always very much done with his shit , tired, and resigned but none of them seemed really terrified/upset like they do now.
Love that we don't really get overly nice manipulation Stella on via. Like she didn't even pretend to give a shit about her for more than that one second did she.
Blitzo calling stolas his bottom instead of just... literally anything else. Like he literally did not have to do that. But also confirmed stolitz dom/sub contract? 👀 or is this blitzo being himself and I'm reading too much into it.
All of us secretary! Stolas secretary! Stolas only for it to turn out that he hates it so fucking much ("I'm poor now! Melts into a puddle oh man. )
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neshamama · 14 hours ago
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trauma dump cuz i never knew how hard this topic was to work on and idk maybe i need to release this maybe i need the love idk..
i am talking about csa for the first time over the past month never told the story except once in counseling in college i kind of mentioned it. now i will ramble on idk why don't be mean or weird please. let me speak how life is?
17 years ago while walking to class. i was lost in my own thoughts and not paying attention so i blink and two teenage boys come running at me and slammed me to the ground. one of them climbed on me and violated me while the second boy pressed his hands over my mouth and nose, not allowing any oxygen. as i suffocated and tried to pry his hands off, he laughed at me. at some point in the struggle i realized, this is what dying feels like, i am dying, and this is my last moment and i have no time to do anything but accept it.
ok i was smothered but obv not to death. next thing i saw was them running again away from me. i had no idea what to do so i picked up the backpack that broke my fall then i went to class told NO ONE...for a time. i had never been touched like that. figured that was sex then. fucked that up for me too.
at 29 i talk about it to my therapist and somehow after all these years i have vivid flashbacks that disturb me throughout the day everyday. i leave the present and go to freakish places. i believe it's happening my body teems with the trauma response. like i need protection; i wrap my arms around my chest. i worry again i will die. new pcp gave me prazosin for nightmares which helps.
but what hurts the most talking about this to me is the mess of beliefs i took from it. is it normal to feel you will never be good? to face low self-esteem all the time and feel disgusting physically and socially and struggle with relationships and sex and agoraphobia and wanna give up i have tried really hard i want people to know THAT much and i am trying now on this like event from my childhood that i never healed. but now i guess my heart says it is time which i am glad to release the burden a little.
i feel even more for other survivors of csa and survivors of assault at any age and i love you..i know you can never hear it enough so i mean that i hope we can love ourselves too
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jevilowo · 1 day ago
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It's me the timeline guy. Here are my many lore related grievances with the comic:
SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT tho most people have probably read it by now lol
FIRST OF ALL, the Administrator's plan. What happened to "plan so disturbing that several US senators pardoned her for the Poopy Joe incident?" What even was her plan actually was it just to keep the fighting going forever? Then what was the point of Australiummaxxing after Redmond and Blutarch died?
What's up with Zepheniah’s hooked up corpse. Isn't his ghost still around? He certainly is by the seventh scream fortress comic, which takes place during MvM. His will says he won't rest until he's done being mad at the world idk how that relates to anything.
OH HORSEMANN MY HORSEMANN. Why is Zepheniah claiming to be an only child? And it's not a retcon bc later on Soldier pulls up the family photo WITH SILAS IN IT. Where did he even get that. Anyways. The only explanation is either 1) some in-universe attempt by Zepheniah to write Silas out of history (implied by the two copies of the quarterly concern, one seen in a hidden page in the classless update and the other in the background of the Engineer update), or 2) ...i was going to say Silas was actually his cousin or something but that wouldn't make sense if the siblings of Zepheniah’s dad all died young. Urgh. I hoped the Horsemann would return and put to rest the implications dragged up by scream fortress two but alas twas not to be.
What's with the 3 different covers of a young Administrator? My theory is they're supposed to represent three possible backstories the writers were cooking and wouldn't commit to. Who knows.
CHARLES DARLING. The triplets' birth certificate claimed that their mother was a Darling (save me Bette Mann etc etc), and that had me convinced Charles was going to be at least RELEVANT. Why else would he, a joke antagonist introduced in the War! Comic, show up at all? Looking for Australium, no less? I tell you that flashback of him and Maxton had me CONVINCED something would happen. Especially with the two of them lowkey treating him like shit.
So so so much Admin stuff left unexplained. Seeing her child self in the Australium. The census dated back to 1850 with "HELEN" on it. Telling Engie "your family has already done so much for me". By that she could have just meanth Radigan making an immortality machine for Redmond as well as Blutarch I guess, but ??? I liked the Emily reference tho that was something one of the artists reffered to her as for the Engie Update Comic by mistake and later took back so neat callback lmao.
SPEAKING OF RADIGAN. Nothing on who the third Australium machine went to. Presumably Admin I guess? Not explained, never will be probably.
Who was the person in the torn Mann Family portrait? My main theory was always either an earlier version/design of Grey or a Darling, but in the picture Soldier shows (SERIOUSLY WHERE DID HE GET THAT) we can't even see the outline of a person around his thumb. It almost looks like they just made a version of the picture without anyone in the middle and called it a day.
TFI having other mercenary groups came out of fucking nowhere, even in comic six. The T and F presumably stand for "Team Fortress", fuck you mean "Team Citadel", "Team Vanguard", giant fucking statue of random epic looking mercs??? What is happening. They did NOT explain that shit at all. Multiple, seemingly incredibly competent teams are NOT "eighteen perfect idiots". Did Poopy Joe die for nothing.
One of the top posts I've ever made is the one where I point out the date Spy and Scout got arrested on that newspaper: September 7th, 1972. This means the rest of the comics should take place 5½ months later i.e. February/March 1973. Ergo, 1979 could not be "seven years later". The comics seem to think themselves that they're set in 1972 already, there's a few lines about it but for the life of me I can't remember. Something something however many years since Zepheniah died blah blah year the triplets were born. Whatever. It's on my timeline probably.
Smaller thing, but embarrassing lack of a full name reveal for Heavy and Medic. Spy also, but I wasn't really expecting that. They shall remain Mikhail "Mischa" Weponzgy and Fritz Ludwig (alias, he's a wanted man) in my heart.
SO IN CONCLUSION: the writers went in with no clue how to end the story, something made evident by the possibility of the 4chan leaks being an early script and also entirely fucking different.
Still, there were a lot of lore unrelated things I did enjoy: the fact that the mercs actually got a happy ending, for one thing. Sniper stealing a plane, Scout maturing and moving on from Pauling, Pyro literally just being overjoyed to see Engie again, babies!!! The fact we even got a comic! How crazy is that? At least we didn't have to wait another seven years.
I might draft a script for an alternate ending that tries to answer lore stuff more, but knowing me I wouldn't finish it. Still, I am working on making a website for my timeline and I'll upload the link here once I'm done with it. Oh and I'll update the doc version soon. Bitterly.
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bee-devilling · 3 hours ago
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Nope! In fact I have very thoroughly thought out Misha's middle name and the lore behind it (partially because I headcanon him as trans, so his name is obviously an important decision to him)
Middle names are patronymic in Ukraine, he's going to get his father's name, despite the fucker being better fit as a sperm donor than an actual father.
But Misha has a rebellious attitude, and a forged birth certificate, so he can fix this.
So while his mother puts in Михайло (Mykhailo) on the birth cert, and asks about changing the suffix of his middle name (because it's gendered, translates to son/daughter of ___) he's like "actually, I've a better idea"
Because this is the fake one, and his adoptive parents will have no concept of Ukrainian naming customs. It's also the one the government will never find, so he doesn't have to stick to Ukrainian naming customs if he doesn't want to (and he doesn't, because his dad sucks).
Everyone but him and his mother will be none the wiser. But they know what his birth cert says, and they are the only people who need to know that at least on a sentimental and not-quite-legal level, that his name is Михайло Тамаравич Бачинський, Mykhailo (Misha) Tamaravych Bachynsky.
According to the government though, his name is Тетяна Олександрівна Бачинський, Tetyana Oleksandrivna Bachynsky
Also, to add to the choir name headcanons:
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Also also for the rest of the choir's middle names:
Constance Eleanor Blackwood (canon)
Ocean Faythe Justice O'Connell Rosenberg
Persephone Jennifer Lamb (listen I know that odds are, Penny's name is Penelope. Maybe it's mentioned in Legoland, idk, haven't read it. But I don't care, you can pry this name headcanon from my cold, dead hands)
Richard Keenan Potts
For other characters names/personalities (probably way too detailed but eh) (also I don't have these for everyone but hopefully I will soon I'd love to add to this):
Noel Dorian Casimir Gruber
I think Constance's brothers (I hc there's two of them, fraternal twin boys) would have classic names like Constance does, but they can have cute nicknames like Connie. I've named them Matthew/Mattie and Alexander/Lex. Lex has a very similar personality to Constance, he tends to stick by her or his brother, and is extremely shy. He's not very vocal about his wants or needs, but Mattie was always ready to speak up for him if he needed it. Mattie is a complete social butterfly, and has enough energy and enthusiasm to make up for the timidness of his two older siblings. The second he learned to talk, he did not shut up.
Noel's mom is Roxanne, and to put it simply, she would lay down her life for her son (in fact she basically already has, if we're going by my idea of what happened with Noel's dad. And she'd fucking do it again) and sure, maybe she didn't deal with his coming out in the best way possible, but she does care about him and she just wants him to be safe above all else, and unfortunately in the situation they're in that means they have to barricade the metaphorical closet door just a little. I also headcanon that Noel has an older sister named Camille, she's about 7 years older than him and moved out without any indication of where she was going or where she might be now.
Misha's mother is Tamara, obviously, she's named in the musical. She was the coolest mom ever. She never cared about his grades in school (thought to be fair to him, he was a great student when he lived in Ukraine), she was always encouraging about his hobbies, and she was definitely the first follower of BagEgg on YouTube. She wanted to raise him to be as independent of her as he could be, and she realised once she got sicker that it was the best possible thing she could have done. She was very accepting of him when he came out as trans; well it wasn't coming out as such, it was 6-year-old Misha insisting he wasn't a girl and that he didn't want to be Tetyana anymore. She tried to help him as much as she could, and when she had to forge his birth certificate to get him out of the country she happily changed his name on it, if it meant he could live a safer life in Canada without any judgement based on what he was or wasn't born as. I also think Misha has a little sister, Lyuba. She also emigrated to Canada with Misha, but they went to different homes at opposite ends of Saskatchewan, and he hasn't seen her since.
Would it be stupid to have middle name headcanons for the choir?
And name headcanons/very light personality trait ideas for their family and friends (if they have any)?
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dis-astre · 2 days ago
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BREAKDOWN OF LES MISÉRABLES IN FRANCE : ACT II
and i'll be trying to gather my thoughts in a condensed and cohesive way (update, i failed. it's a very long post.) even if yesterday i had to yap for 10 minutes worth of voice messages to my best friend
- ngl i cry at the first notes of act II (and cry at the first note of act I too, but it was to be expected) and just on the overhaul cried a lot
- i felt it was very very quick? again i have vague memories of the west end version sooo but i was moving pretty quickly (maybe also due to the absence of the rotating stage)
- eponine's actress was singing SO GOOD, on my own broke my heart (even tho they changed some lyrics and some of them were... idk maybe too much on the nose in my opinion but eh)
- cosette's actress also was really good, her vibrato and singing was really clear and nice to hear
- enjolras and marius carrying gavroche on their shoulders when javert was discovered and parading him all around the barricade
- R jumping in front of all of les amis screaming something along the lines of LETS GO and was like very excited and ready to fight (it was nice to see him have a lot of stage presence and being involved, like he is here because and for his friends and idk it made drink with me 10 times sadder just with this little intervention)
- R stayed with gavroche all the time, and everytime there was a gunshot he was jumping on him, protecting his tiny body with his (god the kid was SO SMALL it broke my heart, he bet he wasn't even 10 yo)
- a little fall of rain broke my heart (my heart was broken a lot of times here), no one even noticed her dying in marius arms until almost the very end of the song; and at this point it was almost her last words and one of the students realised what was going on and rushed to go get some things to try and save her, came back for her last words and R stopped him like no it's too late
- also during a little fall of rain they made fake rain with the transparency and stuff, and everyone was doing forts with pillow and blankets and cuddling underneath and it was really soft and sad
- drink with me was so different too; basically enjolras and courfeyrac were on the top of the barricade yknow the usual, everyone is cuddling and drinking and trying to keep the spirit, and then for R'a part the acting was so different that i'm used to ! normally i'm used to seeing interpretation when he's soooo drunk and mad and cynical and overhaul this angry desperate drunk and cynical man- but here he was just... sad. like broken, sad and basically crying the whole verse to a point were he was slurring his words and struggling to talk between sobs... and he was so alone in this moment like everyone was just watching him in despair. and then he fells into feuilly's arms, they hug, then he hugs marius
- after drink with me, R takes gavroche in his arms (he's sleeping inside a big blanket) and he goes a bit away from the barricade to sleep cuddling and holding on to him (and also there's a girl with them, she spend all of her time on the barricade taking care of gavroche)
- when gavroche goes outside of the barricade, everyone scream and enjolras and marius try to catch him (and R is like... at the other side of the barricade which makes me so sad bc it's the ONLY time he's not near him and that's when he dies), he goes out and there's a gunshot then his hat goes back inside the barricade in a deadly silence
- when gavroche goes back inside of the barricade to die, he's on top of a bench, sing his little song and then doesn't finish and fall right into R's arms and dies in his arms (i was like kill me now i can't do this anymore)
- R spend all the remaining time of the revolution crying over gavroche body, until one of les amis forces him to his feet and yeet him so he goes and fight one last time
- after gavroche's death (and even eponine's), enjolras slowly shuts down and he almost doesn't speaks or interact with anyone and during drink with me it looks like he's dissociating and... idk i really love this acting choice, on the overhaul he was rlly giving book!enjolras like he wasn't the most talkative and energetic enjolras ever which again i think comes from the fact that the french loves to stay true to the original material and honestly i'm not against it, it gives another perspective on enjolras' character
- and when the last battle comes, he 'snaps' out of it and he's suddlently yelling and all but it just feels like something is broken inside and it's just suicide at this point, like the end feels so empty of hope (kinda mirroring R in drink with me) and it's really painful tbh
- enjolras is the last one to die but the worst thing is that he gets to see everyone die before his eyes, and when R dies, he hides for like almost a minute behind the barricade, breathing heavily and contemplating the bodies of his friends, before taking the flag and jumping in front of the barricade; which was giving suicide and also there's some feelings of guilt in this and i... please put me out of my misery at this point it's too much for my heart
- we got the iconic falling with the red flag on the barricade so yay
- i honestly forgot the song "fureurs cannibales" ("dog eat dog" in the english version) existed but i was pleasantly surprised, thenardier can sing like go off king
- javert suicide was amazing, again this actor is SO GOOD, i loved his singing and acting bc it felt so raw and real and powerful ! he was also on a very high platform so that was a tad bit scary but the staging was super cool on this
- les amis don't appear behind marius during empty chairs at empty tables but on a structure behind him you have shadows drinking and talking and basically it's the shadows of les amis when they were alive in the musain
- the thenardier were so funny during the wedding, and we got to see the orchestra and they interacted with the maestra and it was super fun ! also for the line "this one's queer" (i think it's that i'm not 100% sure), or "c'est une pédale" in french, thenardier pointed at montparnasse's actor and... well yeah mate we knew
- enjolras and valjean shook hands during the finale in heaven and i am unwell
and just on the overhaul i really really liked this production ! i cried so much honestly, the cast was amazing and the new lyrics really added another interesting dimension, and made it less funny than the 1991 version + more modern. i feel so lucky honestly, and i am so so happy
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lastchristmas · 2 years ago
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Taylor Swift (Taylor's Version) album concept
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todayisafridaynight · 5 months ago
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fairyofshampgyu · 4 days ago
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BASSIST BEOMGYU BASSIST BEOMGYU BASSIST BEOMGYU BASSIST BEOMGYU
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pokemon-radical-red · 7 days ago
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I hate it when I headcanon a character who’s canonically a girl as a trans man and make ships of him and a character who’s canonically a guy and I refer to it as a gay/mlm/guyxguy/whatever ship and someone gets mad. Like omg let trans people have FUNNNNN. Why are queer headcanons and genderbends cool until they’re saying that the character is trans???
“OMGGG you’re so misogynistic I can’t believe you would erase FEMALE representation!!!”
and like half of the characters in the franchise are women, and a total of… NONE of the characters are trans men. Also, my headcanon doesn’t change the source material. If my stuff upsets you, you can block me and go engage with the source or maybe every single other fanwork, since mine is the only trans man hc for this character that I’ve ever seen.
or when people are like “WTF??? this is so transphobic!!! how dare you imply that a character who looks like that could be a trans man?!?! do you think that trans men are women or something??? she uses she/her, and you’re misgendering her!”
No, I don’t think that being a trans man makes you a woman or vice versa. That’s why it’s a headcanon, and the headcanon is that this character is actually a trans man and not a woman at all! You’ll never guess what pronouns most trans men had to use at some point in their lives, and you really won’t like it when you find out about pre-(or no-)transition trans men… or trans men who are in the closet… or trans men who don’t know that they’re trans yet.
“But the character is a kid!!! Saying they’re trans is sexualizing them.”
I’ve seen this one from other queer people. Like did you miss when all of the homophobes said this about your identity, or do you think that bigotry is only bad when it’s directed at you?
“Why would you say ‘testosterone could fix her’??? Are you trying to call her a delusional woman?”
Why would your brain even go to that first? This literally has to be a bad faith reading, because there’s no way that someone could see what I said and get this unless they were specifically looking for something to be mad at me for.
(Note for anyone unaware: “Estrogen would’ve fixed him!” was a meme going around at the time I said this. I’m not sure if it’s still super big, but this was a joke to the effect of that.)
“So girls can’t be tomboys anymore? You just wanna trans everyone?”
This is like actual real life transphobic rhetoric. This isn’t even just shitting on my headcanon, but in fact, sending transphobic hate to a trans man. Thanks 👍. Maybe you should go send JK Rowling another message about how much you loved her essay instead of bothering me.
#transgender#trans#trans man#transandrophobia#<- not all of it but the ‘it’s misogynystic to be a trans man!!!’ part is. esp because it’s something that people say about real trans men#is this inspired by a Tik tok about how making male characters women is empowering and making female characters men is misogyny?#(although that post was weirdly about genderbending gay ships? idk why that’s discourse going around 😭😭😭. I miss old fandom sometimes.)#not exactly. although the comments on it sucked. I’ve seen multiple variations of posts like that and all of their comment sections made me#feel like I was wading through raw sewage with how full of shit the commenters were.#I saw one violently threatening anyone who portrays a canon girl as a man (in stupid Tik Tok speak)#oh Feng Min… oh Hilda Pokémon… oh Y PokéSpe… you’re all beautiful young men to me#nonbinary hcs also get you that last one super hard#I haven’t seen as much of this about hcing canon guys as trans girls other than posts where op says ‘name a girl character who (blank)!’-#and then makes an addition that you’re an evil misogynist if you said a MALE!!! (even though Brock Pokémon is a transbian to me </3)#which icks me out so bad. omfg. like she’s a girl to ME!!! so maybe that’s why I’m naming her under a post about GIRLS!!!#I imagine that most of the reason for not hearing much about it is because these types of headcanons just… really aren’t common#so if you have a bunch of experience with headcanoning characters who are canonically men as trans girls and the hate that it gets you then#feel free to add on (and also please talk to me about your headcanons… there are so few of us. we need to stick together!!!)#it’s not derailing despite this post specifically being tagged about trans men#that’s just bc that’s all that I talk about in my original post#this post has been in my drafts in different forms for probably like months#long post#I guess#anyone remember a while back when someone on this app got violently mad that someone put a character (canonically a guy) in the m/m tags on#ao3 bc the guy was hced as trans in the fic#and the post was like ‘grrr the ao3 gender ship things are talking about GENITALS!!! not gender!!! I’m not transphobic though <3.’#so now to imagine what it’s like to hc a character who’s canonically a girl as a trans man just imagine that but it’s worse and also you’re#getting it from other trans people too 👍
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