#it's so funny how... exactly the same he is

[clarii]

Off Limits

Summary: Before Eddie Munson even officially met Dustin’s sister, Dustin warned him to stay far away from her, knowing she was exactly Eddie’s type. But when fate pairs them together as chemistry partners, Eddie can’t help but fall for her — and she starts falling too. One night, when she finally confesses her feelings, Eddie rejects her, torn between his growing feelings and his loyalty to Dustin.

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Reader, Dustin & Eddie friendship, Dustin & Reader sibling relationship

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, rejection, hurt/comfort, protective sibling, pining, happy ending

“Hey, listen—”

Dustin caught Eddie just as he was packing up after Hellfire one night, voice unusually serious.

Eddie raised a brow. “You okay, Henderson? You look like you’re about to give me some sort of intervention.”

Dustin sighed, crossing his arms. “Look, I just… need you to promise me something.”

Eddie smirked. “Sure. Anything. Except giving up metal, or D&D, or my throne as your fearless leader.”

Dustin glared. “I’m serious, dude.” He took a breath. “It’s about my sister.”

That made Eddie straighten slightly, his smirk faltering.

“Yeah?”

“She’s off-limits.”

Eddie blinked. “What?”

Dustin’s face hardened. “I know your type, Munson. She is your type. And I don’t want you messing with her. Like… ever. Got it?”

Eddie scoffed, holding his hands up defensively. “Dude, I haven’t even met her. Chill. I’m not gonna—”

“I mean it.”

There was a rare protective edge to Dustin’s voice that made Eddie nod slowly, the teasing smile dropping.

“Yeah… okay, man. I get it. No funny business. Scouts honor.”

And he meant it.

But then came chemistry class.

It was almost comical how quickly the universe turned on him.

When Mrs. O’Donnell paired him with you for the semester-long chemistry project, Eddie had nearly choked on his gum when you introduced yourself with that soft, shy smile.

“Oh. You’re Henderson’s sister?”

You laughed. “Yeah. Unfortunately.”

And then he was screwed.

You were gorgeous — but that wasn’t the problem. The problem was how easy it was to talk to you. How you rolled your eyes at his bad jokes but laughed anyway. How you didn’t flinch when he rambled about D&D while sketching dragons on his notebook instead of paying attention.

And the flirting? Yeah. That just… happened.

Small touches when passing beakers. Sitting a little too close during study sessions. Him calling you sweetheart and you calling him out for it, but never actually minding.

It was perfect.

Until it wasn’t.

————-

The tipping point was a quiet Wednesday night.

Eddie was sitting cross-legged on your bedroom floor, guitar pick between his teeth as he scribbled down notes for the chemistry report.

You, meanwhile, weren’t even pretending to focus.

You were too busy watching him — the way his curls fell over his face, the way he bit his lip when he concentrated.

It had been building for weeks.

The crush. The stolen glances. The feeling that maybe… just maybe… he felt it too.

And you couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“Eddie?”

He looked up, oblivious as ever, still chewing on his pick. “Yeah?”

You exhaled.

“I… I like you. Like, really like you. And I was wondering if… you’d ever consider, maybe, I don’t know… dating me?”

Silence.

Eddie froze, the pick dropping from his lips.

For a moment, he just stared, like he hadn’t heard you right.

Then —

“Wait, what?”

You flushed. “You heard me, Munson. Do you… feel the same? Or… did I totally misread this?”

His mouth opened. Then shut.

Because, God, he did feel the same. He felt everything.

But he also heard Dustin’s voice in his head, loud and clear.

“She’s off-limits.”

Eddie’s heart shattered.

He forced a strained laugh, running a hand through his curls.

“Y/N… you’re great. You really are. But… I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Your face fell.

“Oh.”

The smile dropped from your lips, embarrassment crashing over you like a tidal wave.

You had been so sure.

“I… I thought—”

Eddie cut you off, voice almost desperate.

“No, it’s not you. I swear. You’re amazing. I just—”

You nodded stiffly, swallowing hard.

“It’s fine. We can just… finish the project another day. I’m not feeling well.”

“Wait, sweetheart—”

But you were already closing the door behind him.

And he felt like the biggest idiot on the planet.

—————

The next day was brutal.

You didn’t speak to him. Didn’t even look at him in chemistry class.

No stolen glances. No quiet jokes.

Just silence.

And it killed him.

—————-

At lunch, Dustin was the first to say something.

“You good, man? You look like you’ve been hit by a bus.”

Eddie blinked up from where he’d been pushing his food around his tray.

“Yeah… I’m fine.”

Dustin snorted. “You’re so not fine.”

A pause. Then Dustin frowned, glancing between Eddie and where you sat, equally miserable, across the cafeteria.

“Okay, what happened? You and my sister look like someone just kicked your puppies.”

Eddie hesitated.

Then he sighed, dropping his head into his hands.

“I messed up, man. She… she told me she liked me. And I said no.”

Dustin blinked. “Wait, what? But… you like her too. It’s so obvious—”

Eddie groaned. “I know! But you told me she was off-limits, dude! You literally made me promise!”

Dustin paled.

“Oh. Oh, crap.”

“Yeah. Crap.” Eddie stared at the table, voice quieter. “She’s the only girl I’ve ever felt like this about. And I just crushed her because I didn’t wanna lose you as a friend.”

Silence.

Dustin opened his mouth. Then closed it.

Then—

“Dude. I was being an idiot. I thought you’d mess around and break her heart or something, but… you care about her. And she clearly cares about you too.”

Eddie blinked. “You’re not mad?”

Dustin shook his head. “I’m mad you didn’t talk to me sooner. Go fix it, Munson.”

——-

That night, Eddie showed up on your doorstep.

You opened it, blinking in surprise.

“Eddie? What are you—”

He cut you off, words tumbling out.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t say no because I don’t care. I said no because I do care. And because I was scared. Your brother told me to stay away before we even met, and I didn’t wanna lose him as a friend. But pushing you away hurt worse. I like you, Y/N. So much.”

You stared, heart pounding.

“Then why didn’t you just tell me?”

Eddie winced. “I’m an idiot?”

You gave a watery laugh.

And when he hesitantly reached for your hand — fingers brushing, warm and gentle — you didn’t pull away.

“I’m still mad at you.”

“I deserve that.”

“But… I like you too.”

His whole face lit up.

And when he kissed you, slow and soft, everything finally felt right.

The End.

[csainzsgirly]

cs55 - “Your father will kill me if he finds out I watched his little girl fuck herself”

bodyguard!carlos x reader, inspired by this wonderful moodboard by @sunflowerlando 💓

smut (18+), p in v, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving), masturbating (and use of toys/vibrators), age gap (6 years), he's trying to be cool but he's down bad fr.

tags: @softhecreator

His hands were squeezing your ass, his lips were on your neck. He was hot, truly hot. His name was Charles - which had sounded as good to you as 'stranger' did, because it sounded like a hot night in a club bathroom and not ever seeing each other again after. Just what you needed.

All fun ended when a hand wrapped around your arm and firmly pulled you away from the hot stranger, making you leave without saying goodbye. "What do you think you're doing?" you snapped, roughly pulling your arm back. People were looking at you, but you didn't care. "It's time to leave, because I'm not letting you embarrass yourself." His deep voice was audible even over the loud music. Your bodyguard towered over you, the jacket of his suit pulling taut around his biceps and his chest, stretching over the expanse of his back. "Get in the car, or I will take you there myself. Your father wants you home in half an hour," Carlos said.

"I was just having fun," you complained. "I haven't said goodbye to my friends yet." You twirl around on your heels, but you're swooped off your feet barely a second after. Dangling upside down with your bodyguard's hand on the back of your thigh - to keep you from flashing everyone while you hung over Carlos' shoulder - wasn't exactly what you had in mind as a graceful exit. After meeting Charles and making out with him on the dance floor like you were teenagers, you were sure you could escape from his sight for an evening. But your dad hired a bodyguard who saw everything. Nothing you did got by unseen by him.

It was annoying yet funny at the same time. He hated it when he had to watch you while you were going out. He hated it when you went on a date. He hated to see little boys, who didn't know who to appreciate a woman, all over you. His broodiness never seemed to leave him, causing him to look at you with a frown or a scowl etched on his face. "Are you drunk?" he barked. "No, sir," you replied with a roll of your eyes. "So I won't throw up. But if you shake me around like this upside down any longer, I might," you mutter. You yelped when Carlos put you back on your feet when you reached the car. You hadn't even noticed he held your coat in his other hand while he lifted you all the way to where the SUV was parked.

"Turn around," Carlos said, still having no reason for a small smile or to look you in the eyes. "Turn around," you mocked him, yet turning around to let him help you get your coat on. He opened the door of the car for you, looking away before his eyes could drop to your ass. He knew this was going to be a hard night when he watched you walk out of your room with the short, sparkly dress. Carlos got behind the wheel of the Bentley, fingers curling around the steering wheel till his knuckles turned white. You were the death of him. He glanced in the rearview mirror as you moved a hand through your hair, then whining when you finally took the heels off your feet. He hated how short your dress was, and the fact that his fingers were itching to ride up the material further.

While your legs wrapped around his hips and the ruined material of your panties would grind against his growing erection.

"You're such a cockblock," you complain after a couple of minutes on the road. Carlos looks at you again through the mirror, but doesn't respond. "You're the reason why I haven't gotten laid in like... three months," you continue, knowing you were pushing his buttons. "Like I said, your dad wanted you home before two," Carlos said, while he knew he was taking the bait. "You're no fun," you continue, ignoring his previous words. "I'm plenty of fun. I just don't mix business and pleasure," his voice sounds sharp, almost judging. You're used to it by now. "Oh look, a boring cockblock," you sigh, resting your head against the leather seat. "I'd call it a smart cockblock, but sure." You snorted at his response. "Sassy tonight, aren't you," you catch his eyes again in the mirror before he turns onto the porch of your family's residence.

"You're a pain in my ass, as always," Carlos says, stopping the car and turning off the engine. "Get your shoes," he adds, looking over his shoulder and watching you look back at him stubbornly. The banter, the teasing, the mocking, he loved it. He pulled the door of the backdoor open to let you out. You scooted over to the edge of the seats, reaching for your heels to put them back on your feet. Carlos sighed softly, taking the patent leather pump with the red sole from you, the detail of the red colour another simple, stupid thing that caused his slacks to tighten. He didn't miss the way you shivered when his fingers brushed over your ankle. He put your shoes on without a word, offering his hand to help you step down. His nostrils caught a whiff of your cherry perfume.

"Thank you," you softly said, looking up at him, well aware of the ten centimeters that are probably between the two of you. Carlos stepped back to let you walk by, closing the door of the car and locking it as he watched you walk towards the door. The glittery ends of your dress were hanging just below your ass, teasing him some more. The gentleman he was, he waited downstairs, his back towards you, while you walked upstairs, a hand on your thigh attempting to hold your dress down enough, but he knew it would be too short anyway. He knew your routine by heart: kicking off heels, getting rid of dress, wash off make-up, do skincare, two glasses of water, let phone charge on nightstand, set alarm, go to sleep - either in an oversized shirt and panties, shorts and a top, or just panties.

You knew Carlos would wait before he was sure you'd be in bed, because he was probably still traumatized by the one time you walked out of the bathroom at the end of the hall, almost naked. His jaw had clenched, his hands were folded together behind his back, knuckles white from squeezing his fingers, and his eyes had definitely dropped to your tits. But you were forbidden territory, like he was for you. It was tempting, very tempting. A part of you was wondering what was underneath that layer of broodiness. He was always so calm and collected, annoyed with whatever you did, but you were sure a part of him secretly cared. Because you trusted him, no matter where you went. But he was a pain in your ass as well, because fuck, there was a deep itch inside you, and he didn't let anyone satisfy it.

Carlos went upstairs to take his usual position close to your door. He had the night shift whenever you went out. By the orders of your father, he stood by your door the whole night. It was silent in the large residence, his footsteps audible on the marble floor. He eyed your door, which was slightly ajar. He heard you stumble around the room quietly, but the light on your nightstand soon turned off, silence returning in your bedroom. He remained in his position for a couple of minutes before wandering around the hallway. He passed your door not much later, standing still when he heard something. Carlos halted, listening. It was a low, buzzing, pulsing sound, rustling of sheets following, your breathing pattern changing. His jaw slacked, knowing he should just continue, get out of hearing distance, but he couldn't move.

The door was left ajar far enough for him to look inside your room, to see your silhouette on the bed, hand clutched in the sheets while the other disappeared between your thighs. Carlos' lips parted with a soft breath, feeling the heat creep up his neck, his button-up suddenly choking him. He was no stranger to sex, no stranger to women's bodies, but this felt too intimate. He shouldn't stay and watch, but his eyes couldn't pull away from the scene in front of him. Your back arched off the bed while the vibrator pulsed in and out of you, the silicon top nestled against your clit. Your curtains weren't fully closed, the moonlight that entered through the window emphasizing your silhouette. He could see your hard nipples as your chest rose with more erratic breaths. If he held his breath, he'd hear the squelching noises of the toy fucking your wet cunt.

He was going crazy. His cock was throbbing against the seam of his slacks, the material becoming uncomfortably tight. Carlos planted his hand against the wall, unable to stop watching you pleasure yourself. It was so hot, so sexy, so raw and beautiful. Soft whines and moans escaped your mouth, your hips bucking in desperation. He imagined how your snug pussy would feel around him, how pretty you'd look underneath him. Carlos was nearly embarrassed by the way he stayed as still as he could, not making a sound, not wanting to disturb you and stop the show you were putting up for him. A side of him figured you were doing this on purpose, just to rile him up even further. At the moment, he didn't care why you left the door open. He watched your body tremble as you came, the vibrator against your clit making you convulse with sensitivity. For a moment, it was quiet, and he was almost relieved.

Carlos leaned his head against the wall, gnawing on his bottom lip as he watched your chest rise and sink with a few deep breaths. Sheets rustled as you turned around, and he was sure you'd put the thing in the drawer of your nightstand and go to sleep. He needed to stop watching, but once again, he couldn't tear his eyes away from you, not missing how you got on your knees, whimpered when you turned the vibrator on again and tortured your overstimulated clit some more. Carlos nearly groaned when you turned on the fake dick as well, and it was pulsing, thrusting again against your pussy before you let it slip inside. Carlos turned away, closing his eyes as he leaned against the wall. He needed to turn around and take a breath, because he couldn't look at his boss' daughter this way.

He barely said a word to you for a week. You didn't ask why he was excessively moody with you, but you definitely knew. You knew what you had done to him. It was making you smile at the thought, knowing he was struggling whenever he picked you up from the gym, a dinner with your friends, or a simple grocery run. Carlos couldn't look at you, knowing that if he did, he wouldn't be able to wipe the scenes of you fucking yourself and cumming while he was watching, from his mind. He really tried to put more distance between the two of you, but you could see his own plan failing. You could see it in the way he held your eyes when you looked at him through the mirror in the car. You noticed it in the way he held you to his chest whenever you were walking in a crowded area, the way his eyes raked over you when you were dressed up for an event, the soft compliment that slipped from his lips before he could stop himself.

"Do you want a drink?" the question threw him off guard as you both reached the top of the marble stairs in your family's residence. Your parents were on a cruise for two weeks, they had left this afternoon. It meant that the house would be empty, except for the staff. "Since when are you making drinks in your room?" Carlos asked. "I just keep a bottle of rum there, that's all," you chirped, twirling around on your heels, your dress floating around your ankles. "I'm still working," he said, pushing his hands in the pockets of his slacks. "Weren't you also working when you were watching me for an hour last week?" you ask, cocking your head sideways while looking up at him. Carlos felt his heart stop in his chest for a couple of seconds, watching you close the distance between the two of you.

"Watching you is my job, sweetheart," he replies. "Hmm," you hum, turned around and walking into your room, reaching into one of the cabinets to get the bottle of rum and two glasses. You poured the liquor in for him anyway, handing him one of the glasses. You laughed a little as he remained in the hallway. You took a sip and leaned against the door, your heels left in the closet already. His eyes were so intense. You had felt them on your body when he watched you. It made you feel hot all over while the silence lingered between you. "I will need your help to unzip my dress," you spoke up, leaving your empty glass on the coffee table in the corner. Carlos knew he should say no, ask one of the maids to help you - and then leave, but he found himself stepping over the threshhold and into your room.

His eyes quickly scanned the bed, the desk against the wall, the floor to ceiling windows, the walk-in closet with a huge mirror. You stood in front of it, taking your earrings out before unclasping your necklace, rings dropped next to it. Carlos towered over you as he looked at you through the reflection of the mirror, brushing your hair away from your back to find the top of the zipper. His fingertips tickled a little in your neck before he took the zipper down agonizingly slow. "Did you enjoy watching me?" you ask, eyes burning through his soul when he looked up at the mirror again. There were many ways he could answer that question. He went over them in his head, reaching the end of the zipper. His fingers gathered your hair behind your shoulders again, watching the way the material of your dress loosened around your body.

The straps fell down your shoulders, but you made no attempt to keep them up. You let the dress pool around your ankles, feeling comfortable despite his broader, bigger body hovering over you. "I always enjoy watching you," Carlos' voice rasps in your ear, making your breath hitch in your throat as his lips brush over the shell, finding the sensitive skin beside the lobe. One of his hands lift to nestle in your hair in the back of your neck, a gentle, yet strong, tug on your roots tilting your head aside. Goosebumps cover your flesh when his lips kiss your neck. "But I loved the part where you became desperate to cum while that toy was fucking you." Carlos watched you shiver. "Not so mouthy now?" he hummed. "Give me permission to touch you, mi reina," he breathed, making you nod quickly. "Please," you say, a little breathless as well. His grip on your hair tightened, making you tilt your head back as far as you could.

His palm glided from your throat to your neck, finding the swell of your tits before cupping one of them, moving on to your stomach. "You're so goddamn beautiful," Carlos nips at your neck again, groaning when he feels your ass against his crotch. "I had to stand and watch pathetic boys beg for your attention," he continues, his voice alone enough to harden the pearls of your nipples. "Watch you dress up in the prettiest dresses, but I couldn't touch you," he mutters, hot, open mouth kisses covering your skin. "Your father will kill me if he finds out I watched his little girl fuck herself, but breaking a contract never felt this good." You slipped from his grip, but only to turn around and face him. Your hands grabbed onto the lapels of his jacket to close the gap between your bodies, your lips colliding in a hard, long-awaited kiss.

You could feel through his slacks how hard he was, your hands leaving his chest to pad down his abs, finding the leather belt and undoing the clasp. Carlos slipped his arms out of the jacket, revealing his athletic, muscled form in the crisp white button-up he was wearing. You groaned at the sight of his vest with a holster underneath. A man wearing a gun has never been this hot before. He captured your mouth with his again, feeling your hands unbuttoning his slacks, zipping the material down and slipping inside to find his growing erection. "Shit, baby," he breathed as he watched you sink to your knees in front of him, the right side of your body angled to the mirror. He looked into the reflection of it, watching you free his cock from his Calvins. Carlos grunted lowly at the sight of your doe eyes eying his cock, nimble fingers wrapping around the girth.

Your mouth was watering at the mere feeling of the veiny shaft, fingertips exploring the ridges and veins that would feel so good inside you. Your saliva wetted the palm of your hand before you started stroking him slowly, a sigh falling from his lips. Carlos gathered your hair in his fist, watching you wetten his cock some more before you took him into your mouth. You moaned at the weight of him on your tongue, tasting the salty drops of pre-cum when you swirled the muscle around the tip. You felt the corners of your mouth straining when you took more of him, licking and sucking what you could take. Your lipgloss he had seen you reapply throughout the night was smudged already, smeared around the base of his cock when you tried to take him completely, the sounds of you gagging on him making throb against your tongue.

Carlos started taking control when you established a comfortable rhythm, his abs contracting as he listened to you slurping and sucking his cock, occasionally letting him hit the back of your throat. He looked sideways into the mirror again, eyes glued to your head bobbing up and down, his cock left glossy with your saliva. He pushed you further down, gently holding you there and seeing his cock bulge in your throat. You let go with a gasp for air, a string of spit connecting your lips to his cock before he pulled you up. Without a word, he lifted you up as if you had the weight of a feather, walking you to your bed that was still so perfectly made up. You scrambled up to your knees when he dropped you on the mattress, watching him stand near the end of the bed, finally getting his vest off and placing the gun on your desk.

His cock pulsed when he looked at the red apples of your cheeks, your bambi eyes and your pretty being waiting for him. Your fingers teased your nipples, other hand threatening to drop between your thighs if he let you wait any longer. A soft breath passed your lips when he finally got rid of his shirt, your eyes drinking in his toned body, his hard abs, the broad planes of his chest and biceps you want to put your teeth in. Your hand wraps around his cock again, but his palm finds the side of your neck, his lips leaving a delicious kiss on your mouth before he pushed you onto your back. A laugh escapes you when his hands curl around your ankles to pull you to the edge of the bed. Carlos nearly folds you in half after he put your ankles on his broad shoulders, his hand guiding his cock through your slit. His eyebrows furrow together with a groan, watching your sticky wetness ooze from your hole with a mere brush of the tip over your clit.

"You got this wet from sucking me off, hmm?" he asks. "It better feel as good as it did in my mouth," you reply, jolting a little when the big head teases your cunt, slipping through last minute to tease your clit instead. You were in heaven as soon as he entered you, filling you up to the brim, stretching you out. It had you gripping the sheets from the start. Carlos watched his cock split you in half, giving you a couple of seconds to adjust before finding a pace that had you arching your back off the bed and your fists squeezing the sheets so tightly in your palms. He was rewarded with an 'oh my god', ah's and oh's following that told him not to change anything about the rhythm. Your eyes rolled back as he pushed your legs further to your chest, breathless cries mixing with the sounds of your bodies slamming together, the wet noises of your cunt gripping his cock and sucking him in.

You would say you've had good sex more often, but this was better than good sex. You were on the brink of a release embarrasingly fast, your body doing a weak attempt to meet his thrusts. He was in you so deep, so hard, and you were so wet, you were sure you were leaking down your thighs. He hadn't even taken off your panties, he had simply slid them aside. The material was begging to be removed from your body, the seam threatening to break against the side of his cock. "Such a perfect little pussy," Carlos breathed. "I imagined how fucking wet and tight you'd be," he continued, fuelling the heat in your lower abdomen. "Don't stop," you moan as he let your legs fall open, but only to wrap them around his hips, his hand having free access to your clit. "Carlos!" you cried out, his cock hitting you g-spot over and over again. You were a writhing mess underneath him, body tensing up as you felt your orgasm so close.

Carlos felt your pussy squeezing him, your wetness soaking him. Nothing could prepare you for the peak your body reached, freezing your muscles for a split second before the warmth washed all over you, pleasure dotting your vision, curling your toes and making your legs shake as you gave in. His cum filled you up, cock throbbing inside you. Carlos looked at you through hooded eyes, his hot breath softly ghosting over your face. His lips pressed to your neck again, watching you catch your breath as well. He slowly pulled out of you to get a couple of tissues and clean you up, eyes darkening again at the thought you'd go to bed with your pussy filled with his cum. He reached for his underwear to pull on again, soon finding you in front of him, pulling him down into a kiss. "Don't go," you whisper against his mouth. "We need to do that again in the morning," you add, making him laugh softly.

His lifts you up with ease, groaning as he feels your nipples against his chest. Carlos drops you on the bed again, hovering over you with slight hesitation. Would his boss find out if he was inside your room instead of guarding the door in front of your room? "I need you to fuck me in the car," your words distract him from the thought, nails tickling his chest. "And on every surface in the house," you continue, flipping the two of you around, so you're straddling him. Carlos looks up at you with admiration, making your heart beat a little faster. You lean over him, looking into his eyes. "Starting with my father's mahogany desk," you whisper, not missing the way his lips curled up in a grin.

[ropebunnykant]

okay sooo, this is actually part two of a post dissecting the boat scene because i have far too much to say about it, you can find part one here.

where i last left off, i was talking about how bison is asking kant to answer him after asking who forced him to work for the police, which gets us to this moment.

lauren @sunsetsover already talked a little bit about this moment here, and to reiterate what she said, this is the first time in the show where we see kant actually ask for something he needs.

now, in the early episodes, i talked a lot about how kant needs control and how he doesn't really ask for things. his tactic tends to be just taking, and again, it goes back to those control issues. and it's funny because kant, in so many ways, is a walking contradiction. he has had to be in control of everything since he was a child, a young child, which we learn in this scene as well. his control issues aren't him being an asshole, it's a coping mechanism. he's had to have everything under control, has had to have everything on his shoulders since the moment his parents died. and yet, at the same time, kant has never had any ACTUAL control over his own situation. his parents died and he was forced to take on the role of father, parent, caretaker, for babe who couldn't have been older than two or three, if that, when their parents died. and since that, every decision he's made has been a product of taking care of babe. he probably never went to college because he had to take care of babe, he never had dreams or goals because he had to look after his brother. he stole cars, he became a police informant, all so he could take care of babe, and he didn't actually have a say in any of it!

kant hasn't had a choice in anything, and he's never actually asked for or done anything for himself.

but in this moment he does. in this moment he has to. so he asks bison, in his still deadpan tone, to calm down. he tell him he'll explain everything if they get on land, and he tells him that he's scared of the ocean. this is kant at his most vulnerable, his most open, begging bison to listen to him - not just when it comes to the truth, but about what he needs in the moment. the camera pans back to show us the water again and then kant looks and some emotion finally comes back when he does, and you can see the fear in his eyes again as he tells bison he's scared. but of course bison doesn't listen. why would he?

who cares what you need, kant? who cares what you want, kant? you hurt him. you betrayed him. you told him you loved him and you lied. at least that's what bison believes.

you can see kant slowly starting to come back here. the fear and guilt slowly coming back into his expression after he'd been completely blank.

and bison lays it on thicker. tells kant how much he's hurt him.

and i think this right here. this is when kant decides to stop speaking entirely. this is when he realizes nothing he could possibly say is going to fix this. nothing is going to get him back on land. and maybe he deserves that, doesn't he? for what he did? for everything he's done?

bison asks kant outright if he gave him the necklace because he loves him but kant can't answer. not because that's not exactly why he did give bison the necklace, but because he knows bison won't believe it. kant could get on his knees right now and tell bison everything, the whole truth, but bison wouldn't believe it. bison has already made up his mind that kant never loved him, he'd be talking to a wall. and that hurts. because he knows he fucked up. he knows he lied. but that necklace was real. that necklace was kant's burger pin. he gave it to bison like he gave bison his heart and now bison is dangling it in front of him as if it's proof of the opposite.

and god this little sequence right here, too. the way bison is yelling and he's angry but he's just so hurt too. you can see it on his face in the second screenshot. he's asking because he needs kant to tell him that he doesn't love bison. that he never did. because maybe then it'll make it a little easier to put a bullet between his eyes. but kant can't tell him that. because it's not the truth. because yes kant lied, yes kant betrayed him. but loving bison was never the lie. bison is holding the proof of it in his hands, even if can't see that.

kant takes a breath here and god, again, you can see how resigned he is at this point. he can't answer bison, doesn't see a point. he knows there's nothing he can do to change bison's mind. if he says he does love bison, he'll call him a liar. and lying isn't an option anymore - not only would it not get him anywhere, but he can't do it anymore. he can't physically lie to bison anymore. he's done. there's nothing else he can say.

then bison throws the necklace in the water and tells kant to go get it and oh the fear is back again, and the heartbreak too. i think kant was thinking, hoping, that bison would just shoot him. but instead you see him realize that bison wants him to jump in the water instead. that bison wants him to drown for this. to spend his last moments in absolute fucking terror.

and god this might be the part of the scene that got me the most. kant looks at the water and he doesn't see the water in front of him. he sees a suitcase from the plane crash and he hears himself calling for his dad. he might very well be having a ptsd episode or getting close to one.

kant is so terrified in this moment but he looks at bison and bison tells him to go and kant has a choice here. for once, he has a choice. he can jump in the water like bison wants him to, or he can let bison shoot him for not listening. and the crazy part is, you would think the man so panicked over this water would choose the gun, the quick and painless way, but even here before bison threatens to push him, kant is already starting to step towards the edge. he doesn't even need to think about it. because he deserves this, doesn't he? he deserves to die in sheer terror and fear because of what he did to bison. and at least this way, maybe he can die with bison believing he loved him. maybe he can prove himself in his final act.

but he still can't actually bring himself forward yet. because he's still fucking terrified of jumping in, of what will happen. because all he can think about is when he was a kid and he almost drowned in a plane crash.

i've reached image limit again, but you can find part three here.

[romerona]

The Cook and The Teacher!

Let's pretend The Bear and Abbot Elementary are in the same city.

Another cute interaction between Carmen (Carmy) Berzatto x Abbot Teacher Femreader! Sunshinereader!

Carmy stood in the dimly lit laundry room, hands on his hips as he glared at the washing machine like it had personally wronged him. The display panel flashed erratically, like it was trying to send an SOS in Morse code, while a faint but concerning smell of burning plastic wafted through the air.

He let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. All he wanted was to wash his clothes—just one normal task in a sea of chaos. Apparently, even that was asking too much.

With a frustrated sigh, he muttered curses under his breath and gave the machine a half-hearted nudge with his foot, as if that might magically revive it. Spoiler alert: it didn’t. The machine remained defiantly lifeless.

“Wow. Bold strategy. Were you planning to wrestle it next?”

The voice startled him. He turned sharply to see you standing in the doorway, holding a laundry basket overflowing with brightly colored clothes. You were dressed in the epitome of Saturday comfort: an oversized t-shirt with a graphic that read 'Physics: It’s Not Rocket Science... Oh, Wait, Yes It Is,' paired with baggy sweatpants and ridiculously fluffy, colorful monster feet slippers. Your hair was slightly messy like you’d just rolled out of bed—or perhaps fought the laundry demons he was now dealing with.

Your lips curved into a teasing smile as you tilted your head. “I’m impressed. I didn’t know machines responded to passive-aggressive foot taps.”

Carmy let out a quiet sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Didn’t have a better idea.”

“Well,” you said, stepping into the room and setting your basket down on the counter, “I hate to break it to you, but this thing looks like it’s plotting your demise. What’s the issue? Won’t open?”

“It stopped mid-cycle,” he explained, gesturing toward the uncooperative machine. “Clothes are stuck. It’s probably fried.”

“Oof. Smells like defeat and polyester.” You crouched down to inspect the machine, tilting your head like a mechanic sizing up a stubborn engine. “Looks like it’s giving you the silent treatment. Did you try apologizing? Promising to separate your whites and darks next time?”

“Funny,” Carmy deadpanned, though the twitch of his lips betrayed his amusement.

You straightened up, planting your hands on your hips in a stance that could only be described as authoritative. “Well, lucky for you, Carmy-next-door, I happen to be an expert in broken things.”

Carmy raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the counter. “Yeah? How’s that?”

You let out a playful scoff, crouching in front of the washing machine as if it were a patient in need of your expertise. “When you work in a place that runs on shoestring budgets and prayers, you pick up a thing or two about fixing stuff. I’ve practically got a minor in MacGyver-ing. It’s part of my many talents.”

He smirked, watching as you pressed a few buttons and tapped the side of the machine like you were coaxing it back to life. “Sounds like a tough gig.”

“Oh, it’s a blast,” you replied sarcastically with a grin, peering at the machine’s latch. “But the real fun is my lovely fourth graders and their… slippery fingers. Nothing keeps you on your toes like finding out your class stapler’s been dismantled to ‘see how it works.’”

“And you adore them,” Carmy guessed, his voice soft but sure.

“Ugh, to a fault,” you admitted, sitting back on your heels to glance at him. “They’re chaos in human form, but they’re my chaos. Like when Marcus decided to see if he could use glitter glue as a bookmark. Spoiler alert: he couldn’t. And then there was Kayla’s science project that involved exactly zero science but a lot of snacks. Kids are wild, but they’re kind of the best.”

Carmy chuckled, the sound low and warm as he shook his head. “Sounds like you’ve got your hands full.”

You huff a laugh nodding. “But they make all the broken stuff worth it... also, they’ve prepared me for moments like this. Fixing things? I’m a pro. Diffusing meltdowns? Also a pro. Dodging paper balls? Let’s just say my reflexes are unmatched.”

He chuckled quietly, his blue eyes softening as he observed your easy confidence. “Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out.”

“Oh, hardly,” you said with a self-deprecating laugh.

He watched as you tinkered with the inner workings of the washer, the way your monster-footed slippers stuck out behind you, and the light in your eyes as you spoke about your students. There was something captivating about the way you moved—confident but never overbearing, your words spilling out in an endless stream of humor and warmth. For someone who probably dealt with endless chaos in your day-to-day life, you had an energy about you—warmth—messy and vibrant—that felt oddly grounding in his otherwise muted world.

Finally, with a triumphant click, the washer’s door popped open. A puff of warm, damp air escaped, carrying with it the faint scent of detergent. You rocked back on your heels, grinning up at him as if you’d just disarmed a bomb.

“And there you have it!” you declared standing up, sweeping your arm dramatically toward the liberated laundry like a game show host revealing a grand prize. “Your clothes are finally free, Chef Carmy. Laundry liberation, courtesy of yours truly. I accept gratitude in the form of snacks, coffee, or eternal admiration—your choice. But please, no autographs. I have to stay humble.”

“You’re something else, you know that?” Carmy said, huffing a quiet laugh as he shook his head, stepping forward to start transferring the damp clothes into another machine. His tone softened slightly as he added, “But thanks, really. I owe you one.”

You waved a hand dismissively, already moving to the next machine with your own basket in tow.

“Don’t worry about it, Carmy…” you said, your tone casual, though the smirk playing on your lips suggested otherwise. “But, if you do feel like you want to repay me, feel free to bring me more of those leftovers—like the ones you brought when I first moved in.”

He paused, eyebrows raising slightly as he met your gaze. “That’s what you want? Leftovers?”

“Not just any leftovers,” you clarified, turning back to load more clothes. “The fancy ones. Braised short ribs, perfectly roasted vegetables... whatever culinary magic you’re whipping up in that kitchen of yours. Don’t think I forgot.”

Carmy paused mid-transfer, glancing at you with a faint, almost embarrassed smile. “You liked those, huh?”

“Liked?” you scoffed, tossing a pair of socks into the machine. “I was ready to write you a thank-you sonnet. That braised short rib? Poetry in food form. You’ve ruined me for takeout forever.”

He chuckled softly, shutting the door to his machine. “It was just a test recipe.”

“Well, then I’d be happy to test more of your recipes,” you said with a wink, starting your own machine and leaning back against it. “Strictly as a favor, of course. I’m nothing if not generous.”

“Generous,” he repeated, shaking his head with a smirk as he pressed the start button on his machine. He glanced at you, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Alright. I’ll see what I can do.”

“See?” you teased, flashing him a grin. “You’re already getting the hang of this whole neighborly exchange thing. Don’t worry, I’ll keep my expectations high.”

Carmy shook his head, letting out another quiet laugh. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here you are,” you quipped, settling yourself into the nearby chair and grabbing a book from the empty laundry basket at your feet. You opened it casually, like you weren’t fully aware of the fact that his attention was still on you. “Don’t keep me waiting too long, Chef Carmy. I’ve got standards now.”

Carmy smirked faintly, shaking his head as he leaned back against the counter, arms loosely crossed. His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than he intended, watching as you flipped through the book, completely at ease. The light in the room, though dim and slightly yellowed, softened your features, making you look... warm. Pretty, even. The oversized t-shirt, the messy hair, and those ridiculous monster slippers didn’t detract from it—in fact, they only made you more endearing. Not that he’d ever admit that out loud. Instead, he tucked the thought neatly into the back of his mind, letting it sit there quietly.

The faint hum of the working washing machine filled the space, stretching the silence between you into something that felt oddly comfortable. He wasn’t used to that—not in conversations, not in moments like these. Usually, silence felt heavy, awkward, something to be broken. But this? This felt... different.

Still, the need to say something eventually won out, despite his lack of finesse with small talk. Clearing his throat softly, Carmy shifted his weight and finally asked, “So... uh, how are you liking it here?”

You glanced up from your book, your lips curving into a small, knowing smile. “In the building? Or in the laundry room?”

Carmy huffed a quiet laugh, looking down briefly before meeting your eyes again. “The biulding, I guess."

“Oh, it’s not bad,” you said, leaning back in your chair. “The walls are a little thin—I may or may not know the entire plot of the soap opera your upstairs neighbor is binging—but they are decent. A little quiet, though, except for one guy who keeps kicking appliances. Total menace.”

“Sounds rough,” Carmy deadpanned, though his smirk gave him away.

“It is,” you said with mock solemnity before your smile softened. “But honestly? I like it. It’s... cozy, you know? Feels like a place where things can settle down.”

He nodded slowly, his gaze dropping briefly to the floor. “That’s good.”

“It’s growing on me,” you admitted, closing the book and resting it on your lap. “I mean, it’s not every day you move into a building and immediately make friends with someone who’s probably going to be on the cover of Some Fancy Chef Magazine someday.”

“Friends?” he said, arching a brow.

“Yeah, friends,” you replied with a teasing grin. “Or at least laundry room acquaintances.”

He shook his head, his smirk softening into something closer to genuine. “Friend's better.”

"Good," You smiled, shifting slightly in your chair. “So, Carmy-next-door, aside from working and battling possessed washing machines, what do you do for fun?”

“For fun?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow as though you’d just asked him to name every spice in his kitchen alphabetically. “Uh... I don’t know. Not sure I’ve got much time for that.”

“Not buying it,” you shot back, narrowing your eyes playfully. “Everyone’s got something. Come on, spill. What’s your guilty pleasure? Do you secretly knit in your downtime? Binge-watch trashy reality TV? Start a garden but refuse to tell anyone because it ruins your ‘serious chef’ vibe? And if you are, I know someone who could be your new best friend.”

He let out another quiet laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “None of those, but now I’m thinking I should start knitting just to throw people off.”

“Do it,” you said, pointing at him. “Then you can make me a scarf. But seriously, what’s your thing? There’s gotta be something.”

Carmy hesitated for a moment, his gaze dropping briefly before meeting yours again. “I guess... sometimes I’ll just walk around the city. Clears my head, you know?”

You nodded, smiling softly. “That’s a solid choice. City walks are like people-watching with a side of fresh air. What’s your favorite spot?”

“There's this park near the river. Quiet, not too crowded. Good place to think." Carmy tells her.

"Sounds nice," you replied, smiling. "I might have to check it out sometime."

"You should," Carmy said, his expression softening. He clears his throat, "I-uh, I used to draw, though. Sketch stuff when I had the time.”

“Used to?” you asked, leaning forward a bit, intrigued. “You mean you don’t anymore? Or are you just too modest to admit you’ve got sketchbooks hidden under your bed?”

His smirk faltered into something a little more genuine, a touch of shyness creeping into his expression. “I still do. Sometimes. When things aren’t too crazy.”

“Now that’s interesting,” you said, sitting back with a thoughtful smile. “What kind of stuff do you draw? People? Landscapes? Elaborate food masterpieces?”

“A little of everything,” he said with a small shrug. “But mostly recipes, or at least how I want them to look."

“Like a visual diary,” you said, nodding. “That’s actually really cool.”

“Yeah, well...” he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s nothing big.”

“Carmy,” you said, tilting your head at him. “You just admitted to having an actual hobby, and I’m here for it. Don’t downplay it.”

He huffed, shaking his head flushing ever so slightly. “Alright. What about you? What do you do for fun?”

“Me?” you repeated, your eyes lighting up as you sat back in the chair, clutching your book like a prop in a comedy routine. “Well, let’s see. I’m a professional daydreamer, certified in overthinking, and an expert-level snack enthusiast. It’s an impressive resume, I know.”

Carmy chuckled, the corner of his mouth twitching into a rare smile. “Sounds like a full-time job.”

“Oh, it is,” you said with a mock-serious nod. “But if we’re being serious... I like to read, obviously.” You held up the book for emphasis. “And I’m a sucker for a good movie. Big screen, small screen, doesn’t matter. I also like to go out with friends— go to clubs, a karaoke bar, grab dinner, play board games, complain about life. You know, the usual.”

He tilted his head, his expression softening. “Any favorites? Books or movies?”

“Hmm,” you mused, tapping your chin. “For books, I like a little bit of everything—mysteries, fantasy, even the occasional cheesy romance. Keeps life interesting. And movies... I’m a sucker for feel-good comedies. But every now and then, I’ll binge something dark and broody just to balance it out.”

Carmy nodded, his gaze thoughtful. “Feel-good comedies? Got any recommendations?”

“Oh, I’ve got tons,” you said, your eyes gleaming. “But only if you’re ready for some real classics. Think Clueless, The Princess Bride, or When Harry Met Sally. If you’ve never seen those, we might have to reassess this friendship.”

“Clueless,” he repeated, remembering the movie because of Natalie who forced him and Mikey to watch it, one eyebrow-raising. “That the one with ‘As if’?”

“Yes!” you exclaimed, pointing at him with enthusiasm. “See? You’re already on the right track.”

He smirked, shaking his head again. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“What about you? Do you watch movies, or is that too much fun for someone as serious as Chef Carmy?”

He smirked, rubbing the back of his neck. “I watch stuff sometimes. Nothing specific. Just... whatever’s on.”

“Lame answer,” you teased, narrowing your eyes at him. “We’ll work on that. I’ll make you a list. Everyone needs go-to favorite movies.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” he said, his smirk softening.

“Good,” you replied with a playful nod, leaning back in your chair. “And since you’re such a layer enigma, like an onion, I’m guessing you don’t do the whole ‘night out with friends’ thing often?”

“Not really,” he admitted, his tone quieter now. “Doesn’t happen much.”

“You should,” you said, leaning forward slightly, your tone teasing but warm. “You might surprise yourself. One minute you’re awkwardly standing in a corner, and the next, you’re reenacting a dance scene from Dirty Dancing with a stranger. That’s how the best stories happen.”

Carmy shook his head, a quiet laugh escaping him. “Not sure that’s my thing.”

“Hey, it doesn’t have to be Dirty Dancing,” you said with a shrug. “But everyone deserves a good night out now and then. Even mysterious chef-next-door types.”

“I’ll think about it,” he said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “But no promises.”

“Hey, no pressure,” you replied, looking over at him with a soft smile. “I’m just saying, Chef Carmy, you can’t live in your kitchen forever. Sometimes you’ve gotta step out and find your own rom-com moment.”

Carmy stared at you for a moment, a small, genuine smile tugging at his lips. He shook his head, as though amused by something he couldn’t quite put into words, but the warmth in his expression lingered.

The hum of the machines filled the room, a soft backdrop to your easy conversation. What started as playful banter drifted into more thoughtful exchanges—small glimpses into each other’s lives, quirks, and histories.

Minutes melted into what felt like seconds, neither of you noticing the time slipping away. For once, it wasn’t about schedules, responsibilities, or the ever-present noise of the outside world. Just two neighbors sharing stories in the glow of the laundry room’s dim light.

A/N: So, thank you so much for all the support. It really keeps me going. I'm thinking of making like a small series of this, like a few interactions before they started dating- maybe some jealousy along the way lol- the first date- maybe the future but idk.

Also, just in case I do, please tell me if you would like to be tagged.

@themorriganisamonster

[paradoxicalwritings]

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐌𝐞

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ◦ smut, drinking, mature content, mdni

𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐬 ◦ nsfw | fem!reader | reader is a writer | college tsukishima | tsukishima but a little sweeter | drinking | drunken confessions | reconnecting with high school crush | tipsy!smut | 3.4k words

𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ◦ haikyuu masterlist ◦ navigation

𝐯.𝐢.𝐩. ◦ @takes1

It’s funny how the world works. When you walked into your favorite cafe in Sendai, you didn’t expect to see him. You also didn’t expect him to look as good as he did. His hair that always had a slight curl to it was now much longer, touching his ears now, his new glasses fit his face shape much better now and gave him a much more put together appearance, not to mention he was muscular now.

As you waited for your mocha to be done, you contemplated talking to him. It has been well over two years, and it’s not like you two were on bad terms when you last talked; the two of you just loved tangoing over the lines of annoyance and fondness. 

“Mocha with an extra shot of espresso!” the barista called out, setting down your paper cup. You thanked them, drumming your fingers against the cup as you steeled your resolve. 

You leaned into Tsukishima’s line of sight, smiling, “I didn’t know you were allowed in places like this, Goliath.”

For just a second, he was taken aback, but in typical Tsukishima fashion he didn’t let himself be without a retort. He pretended as though he couldn’t see you, looking above your head, “Where did that sound come from?” He looked down, directly into your eyes, “Oh, that’s where that irritating sound came from.”

You both stopped for a second, just staring into each other’s eyes, taking the other in, then you both started laughing. You always found his laugh particularly beautiful. It was higher pitched than his normal voice, with a slight scratch to it. Even when he managed to cross the line between fun jabs and mean comments, his honey-sweet laugh softened the blow.

The chair screeched against the hardwood floor as you pulled it out to sit in front of him. He shut his laptop and propped his chin on his fist, “To what do I owe the pleasure, (Y/N)?”

You took a sip of your drink, “Pure coincidence, I fear.” You looked him up and down from your seat, you still couldn’t believe how different he looked, “What have you been up to, Tsukishima?”

He looked off, pretending that he didn’t want to drink in your appearance, “Well, Uni, of course, as well as the volleyball team. I recently started working at a museum though.”

You smiled, working at a museum was just so him. It made your heart ache, how despite not being in contact for multiple years, he was still the same high school boy you tried to one up every single day, “That’s exactly like you.”

You saw a tinge of pink on his cheeks, he always got embarrassed when you would point out things about him that you happened to notice, “How about you, finally doing anything interesting?”

That was always his go to jab, that you had such a boring life. You didn’t join a club in high school, instead choosing to have your own private hobbies. “Har har, Tsukki,” you took another sip of your mocha, toying with the cardboard sleeve, “I actually came here to work on my book.”

Your mind flooded back to second year, when Tsukishima happened to see you writing in your journal for the first time. You liked hand writing stories, ever since you were a kid. The genre and themes were always different; sometimes horror, other times coming of age, you even branched out into sci-fi for a time. That year you had grown a particular penchant for romance. Tsukishima grabbed your notebook from in front of you, and started reading it aloud. Your face burned in embarrassment. You got on your tiptoes, even jumping to try to grab it back, but he held it out of reach, continuing to read it. You eventually gave up, sitting in your seat with your face buried in your hands. You heard the journal be gently set on your desk. You looked up at Tsukishima, the tips of his ears pink, “You’re good at writing. You should keep doing it.”

Tsukishima looked at you, “Really, what’s this one about?”

You hummed in thought, remembering the books you said it was similar to when talking to your publisher, “Have you read Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishigo, or watched Good Will Hunting?”

He chucked, “You know I haven’t.”

You laughed too, whenever you brought up a specific book or movie and asked him if he’d seen it, it was always a no, “You’re right, I don’t know why I asked.”

The two of you talked for hours, neither of you doing any of the work you meant to get done. Neither of you really noticed the time passing, and it felt as though the two of you never stopped talking, just picking up where you left off two years ago. You both silently wished that you could stay like this forever, but Tsukishima, ever the practical one, just had to look at his watch. You say his eyes widen for a second, then looking at you, “You still have my number right?”

“Uhh, yea, why would I get rid of it?”

Tsukishima scrambled to pack his bag, “Okay, I’ll call you tonight.”

“Okay?”

🏐ˎˊ˗

You had been home for probably two hours. Your eyes were strained from staring at your laptop screen, reading the same paragraphs over and over again. Whoever said “If you love your job, you’ll never work a day in your life,” was a liar. You pinched your nose bridge while you waited for your water to boil for pasta.

You heard your phone vibrate from the counter next to you. You picked it up, flashing the screen on to see who was calling. As soon as you saw the first three letters you answered, feeling the same warmth as you did when you first saw him at the cafe, “Hello?”

“Hey. What are you doing?”

You pressed the phone between your shoulder and ear as you poured the box of dried pasta into the pot, “Cooking dinner, why?”

“Ah okay.” You couldn’t see his face, but you could hear the disappointment in his voice.

“You can come over, if you want to.” You prayed that he would, “Only if you bring a bottle of Chianti over though.”

He chuckled on the other end of the line, the sound making your body buzz, “Of course, send me your address.”

“Okay, see you soon.”

“See you soon.”

You grabbed your phone, quickly sending the blonde your address and unit number. This whole thing felt so surreal. When you woke up this morning you weren’t expecting this at all. Part of you wondered if the red string of fate was real and the two of you were meant to meet in that cafe today. You knew Tsukishima would say that that was ridiculous and it was just purely coincidence.

After about fifteen minutes, you heard a knock on your door. You walked down your hallway and looked through your peephole, seeing Tsukishima standing there, shifting from foot to foot and looking down the hall. You pulled your door chain lock off and opened the door, “Hi.”

“Hi.”

The two of you just stared at each other. This really was a turn of events. Neither of you expected to be having dinner with someone else, much less each other. You broke your gaze, pulling the door open wider, stepping to the side, “Come in, I’m almost done.”

“Right.” He stepped past you, holding the bottle of wine up for you, “Is this the right one? I don’t buy wine that often.” 

You grabbed the bottle from him, and snickered in your mind as you shook your head, “No… This is the wrong one.” You saw a look of “Oh shit,” wash over his face before you laughed, “I’m kidding, this is perfect.” Making your way back to the kitchen, you looked again at the label, noticing the brand, “This is actually more expensive than the one I usually buy.”

Tsukishima followed after you, “Do you prefer cheap wines?”

You sighed dramatically, “You know I’m a writer, right?”

He leaned against the counter behind you, “Well, guess it’s good that I’m here to spoil you then.”

Your cheeks got warm at that comment. Spoil you? He wanted to spoil you? Was he flirting with you? Not that you minded. Let’s just say your love of romance in second year wasn’t just because you were in those boy crazy teenage years. No, you were crazy for one particular boy back then. You plated the pasta, and handed it to him, “We can sit on the balcony, if that’s okay with you.”

Tsukishima nodded, “Yea, that sounds nice.”

The two of you walked out to your balcony, the cool breeze feeling nice after being in your sweltering kitchen. You looked at the small table between the two of you, noticing a distinct lack of wine, “Oh crap, let me go grab the wine.” You noticed his eyes linger on your legs as you stood up. 

You rifled through your cupboards for a second wine glass, not finding one. How sad were you that you never even bothered to buy a second wine glass for the possibility of guests? You sighed, relenting to your fate of being teased for drinking alone. You grabbed a tall water glass and your wine glass, walking back to the balcony.

And you were not ready for the sight in front of you, not that it was particularly notable to anyone besides you. Tsukishima was sitting in your balcony chair, arm propped on his knee, bent wrist supporting his chin. The lights of the city and the moon lit up his features. You shook your head, opening the door to the balcony, “Sorry, I don’t have a second wine glass.”

He smirked up at you as you poured wine into the water glass for him, “Not surprising that you don’t have guests.”

You sighed, shaking your head, “I fear you’re getting predictable, Tsukki.”

He took his glass from you, looking wistfully over the railing of your balcony, “You know you can call me Kei, right?”

You paused your own pouring. You could call him Kei? Sure you two talked throughout high school, but you hadn’t realized he viewed you as close enough for that. You resumed your pouring, “Right, Kei.”

The two of you ate in near silence, Kei making some remarks on how good the food was and how he never paired wine with his food. Eventually, the two of you finished eating and started just drinking the wine. It wasn’t long before you started feeling a bit of a buzz, and you were sure he was feeling it as well.

The conversation had taken a more playful and nostalgic turn as the two of you continued to drink. You went back and forth telling stories you remembered of each other from high school. Kei was leaned back in his chair, legs spread wide, and his head lolling back, looking towards you, “Do you remember that one guy in our third year class who was obsessed with you?”

You laughed, “Yea, you had to scare him off every single day.” 

He shrugged, taking a sip of his wine, “I don’t know how he never took the hint.”

You sighed, “Teenage boys can be like that,” the conversation went quiet for a pause, you chuckled, swirling your wine glass, “I think that was the only guy who ever had a crush on me in high school.”

Kei looked out over the balcony, “That’s not true.”

You scoffed, “Who else did?”

He looked towards you, his amber eyes intense, “I did.”

You choked on your wine, setting your glass down as you tried to compose yourself, “You what?”

He laughed, “God, you are dense,” he set his own glass down, “I had a crush on you since first year of high school.”

You groaned, your face in your hands, “Did you actually or are you fucking with me right now?”

Kei rolled his eyes, “I’m an asshole, but I’m not so much of an asshole that I would lie about that.”

You felt long slender fingers touch your own, pulling them away from your face. Kei was leaning down to make eye contact with you, “I think you liked me too.”

You blushed, averting your eyes. You were caught. You were enamored with him in high school. The witty banter, the care hidden below layers of nonchalance, the passion that bloomed like peonies in spring, everything that no one else noticed about him; you did. The small things that no one else could articulate about him made your heart swell with love for him. You gripped his fingers with your own, “I more than liked you.” 

You felt your arm be tugged forward, then you felt soft, thin lips against your own. This was everything you prayed for, for years, when you were in school. You would look at him as he gazed out the window of your classroom, acting as if whatever topic the teacher was talking about was below him, and imagine those pouted lips against your own. But this felt better than any of those fantasies. Your hands reached up to tangle in his hair, the blonde curls just as soft as you imagined they were. Kei’s hand pulled you impossibly deeper into the kiss by the nape of your neck.

Kei pulled back, his hand still on your neck, and while staring into your eyes and said, “We should go to your room.”

You nodded your head, a little kiss drunk, and pulled him by the hand to your bedroom. Kei was on you as soon as you crossed the threshold, his long fingers knotting into your hair, his glasses pressing uncomfortably into your nose, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. All you cared about was having the man you had pined over for years in your bed. He walked you back until the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed, the both of you toppling over due to the wine.

Kei was leaning over you on his elbows, his head dropping onto your collarbone as you both laughed. Kei gestured with his head upwards, “Scoot up, I wanna be on the bed too.” You both moved up until your head was on your satin pillowcases, the blonde was on his knees over you, “You have no idea how many times I thought about it.” 

You smirked up at him, “Show, don’t tell.” 

He laughed breathily, “God, I missed you.” The two of you started fumbling to remove each other’s clothing, squeezing in sloppy kisses on the other’s body whenever possible. 

When Kei was about to remove your pants, your face burned, “My panties are ugly.”

Kei squinted at you, his glasses having been long abandoned at this point, “I don’t think there’s anything I care about less right now.” He pulled your pants and underwear off in one swoop. He was kneeling between your legs, staring at you, almost in reverence, “Can I touch you?”

“Please,” you said breathily. 

That was all it took for Kei. In his left hand, he grabbed behind your knee and pushed it towards your chest. In his right hand, he ran his fingers up and down your slit. He leaned down to kiss your neck, whispering “You’re so wet already,” against your skin. When he finally inserted a finger you sighed gratefully, head thrown back.

Kei stared at you as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, not taking long to add a second. 

“Mmmhnn-- Kei, just-just like that.”

Kei smiled down at you, “Yea? Yea, you like that?”

You pressed your forearm against your eyes, “Mmmyes, please don’t stop.”

He brought his thumb up to swirl around your clit, feeling light headed at the sound of your moans beneath him. Your back arched off of your plush mattress, “Ooh my God-- Kei!”

He let out a tense breath, like he was trying to contain himself, “Cum on my fingers, baby.” 

That was the final push that you needed, the tightness in your stomach snapping, pussy pulsing around his fingers. You threw the arm that was covering your eyes down to your side, and when you did, you saw Kei sucking on his soaked fingers. He looked absolutely debauched, as though this was his final meal and he wanted to savor it.

Once he noticed you staring, he leaned down to kiss you, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. He pulled back the kiss, “Like how you taste?”

You sat up, smirking at him, “I think I’ll like how you taste better,” but just as you were about to grab his dick, he grabbed your wrist.

“I’m sorry, I think I’m gonna cum immediately if you touch me right now.” 

You giggled, kissing his neck, “You act like such a virgin.”

“Careful, (Y/N).” He pinned both of your legs to your chest with one hand, “Too much teasing, and I might decide to stop.”

You reached your hand around your thighs, spreading your soaked lips for him to see, “No, you won’t.”

He groaned at the right, “Fuck, you’re right. I wouldn’t stop if the damn building was on fire.” He slapped his cock against your pussy, once, twice, three times, and slid the head through your folds. Finally, when he felt like he was sufficiently lubed with your juices, he pushed his long, thick cock in.

The two of you moaned in sync, the feeling of finally having the other was cathartic. It was the same feeling as the loss of tension in your body when you finally make it back home after a long work trip. 

Kei’s thrusts were hard and fast, but not necessarily rough. It was just like him, seeming so intimidating and uninterested from the outside, but once you break down his walls and see him for who he really was, he was just a big softie who noticed every little thing about you. 

His head dropped down, his forehead resting against your legs, “(Y/N)... Mmmnn, I don’t think I can last much longer.”

You reached your hands up, one gripping at his shoulder, and the other at his hair, “That’s okay, it’s okay, I just want you, Kei.”

He groaned, “Especially when you talk like that…”

Kei’s thrusts started to stutter, rhythm being thrown off slightly. You knew he was about to cum, and you were goading him on. You moaned breathily about how good he felt, how badly you wanted him. “Fuck,” he cursed under his breath as he pulled out, rubbing his cock a few times before spilling on the underside of your thighs.

The two of you laid there, absolutely spent, for a few minutes. Kei was the first one to move, grabbing some tissues from your bedside to clean you off. 

When he was finished wiping off his spend, he laid down, and pulled you on top of him. You giggled at him, not expecting him to be such a cuddle bug, “That was really good, Kei.”

You felt him pout against your shoulder, “Yeah, and we could have been doing that for years if you were honest with me.”

“Hey! That’s not fair,” you squirmed in his grasp, trying to playfully smack him, “You could have told me too!”

He groaned sleepily, “Stop being so lively, just go to bed.” You stilled, and laughed breathily into his hair, deciding he was right and letting sleep take you into its loving arms.

🏐ˎˊ˗

You awoke with a groan at the sound of Kei’s obnoxious ringtone. You leaned on your elbows, watching him answer his phone.

His voice was still rough with sleep, “Hello?”

You could vaguely hear Yamaguchi through the phone, something about “Are we still meeting up for breakfast today?”

Kei’s eye’s shot open, throwing the blanket off of himself, “Shit, right. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. I’m so sorry.” 

He hung up the phone, threw it onto your bed, and dressed in a hurry. Just as he was about to rush through your door without saying anything to you, he kissed your forehead and said, “I’ll Doordash some breakfast for you.” Kei scrambled out of your bedroom, yelling “I’ll be back soon!” down your hallway.

You turned over onto your stomach, burying your face into your plush pillow, and just laughed. It was funny how the world worked.

𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐬

@staincastle for the tsukishima header

[lu-is-not-ok]

Since full stop hong lu has been released, is there anything about his voicelines and such that intrigues you?

Funny you ask about that, because yesterday I was going positively insane over his voicelines! :)

First I'll start with the more 'normal' thing that hit me, before moving on to the 'voice acting autism' parts.

This fucking line. Oh my god. This not only continues Hong Lu's thing with death and its meaning, but I believe it's also a reference to this line from Liwei in Ruina.

And well. Guess what. This is the two in one blog. This is where I make everything about two in one. And Full Stop Hong Lu's line combined with this context? It feels like a Daiyuism to me. Very Flower Burial, musing on the inevitability of death and how in the end it doesn't really matter. Flowers fall. People perish. And neither of them know.

...Okay now we get to the insane parts.

I don't talk about this often, mainly because it's hard to discuss in a text format, but I really, really enjoy picking apart the voice acting in Limbus. Like, not only is it Really Fucking Good, but some of the deliveries genuinely feel so nuanced that I can't help but see if I can dig deeper. And the following bits are thus more about the voice acting behind the lines rather than the text itself. Bear with me here. Tumblr doesn't like .wav files so I'll be linking directly to them in the Organized Assets folder.

First, there's the Afternoon Greeting line.

Note how in the last sentence, Hong Lu's voice has a moment where it wavers. A nervous laugh-like tremble. I don't speak Korean so I can't tell what exact word is being focused on with that moment, but it's notable since I don't believe any other ID has anything like that happen in a random casual voiceline.

I find that tremble interesting because it implies there's some sort of rising emotion behind that. Something about the realization that in reality Hong Lu's wealth means things that are considered expensive to some are really more than affordable to him makes him briefly stumble verbally.

We know that most Hong Lus, to put it bluntly, try their fucking hardest to ignore their reality. So I can't help but wonder if this admission of awareness, this forced lack of ignorance, is what's throwing him off? He can't exactly pretend like what is normal to him is normal to everyone when the chasm between him and others is staring him right in the face.

Ok, now for the thing that's been making me properly lose my mind for the past. Uh. However long this fuckass ID has been out for SFGHHGF.

There is a very, VERY notable difference between Full Stop Hong Lu's voice lines out of combat, and the ones in combat.

Compare his Deployment voiceline (casual, out of combat voice) to his Stage Entry voiceline (in combat voice).

This is, yet again, a voice direction choice exclusive to this ID.

Full Stop Hong Lu's out of combat lines keep the same traits as his voice in most other cases. Higher register, with a notable lilt to his speech. Hong Lu's voice tends to subtly shift at ends of his sentences, usually rising, and there's often a rhythm to how he speaks, causing his voice to have a sort of sing-songy quality to it that adds to his innocent and unaware vibe, as if he's got his head in the clouds.

This changes completely with Full Stop Hong Lu's in combat lines. Not only are they in lower register, said in a much more assertive tone, but the lilt in his voice is completely gone. The delivery for these is comparably monotone, methodical. It makes him sound like a completely different character, doesn't it?

Now, Full Stop Hong Lu isn't the only ID that has a voice line with that kind of delivery shift. Yurodivy Hong Lu's Skill 3 and K Corp Hong Lu's Commencing Attack voice lines are very similar if not the same kind of voice. However, unlike Full Stop Hong Lu's case, this shift is not consistent for those two. Full Stop Hong Lu however sticks to this tone for the entirety of his in combat lines, and I find that fascinating.

Man really just fucking Locks In.

[nico-sees-dead-people]

*nico just nods, he knows how hard its been for will and he kinda predicted somethijg like this he sits properly on tje ground and pats tje space next to him as a “cmer” gesture*

of course

*he takes out two of the first letters he wrote and begins to read*

dear will,

Mr D told (read forced ) me to write to you even though I exactly give these letters to you something about process processing my motions and it might even make me feel better which sounds like bullshitt to me but I’d rather not end up a dolphin so here we are, I love you and you have amnesia. I love you and you don’t even know my full name anymore. Its niccolo by the way niccolo di angelo it would be nice to hear you say it again I think, i suppose ill just tell you it in the morning we will find it out from one of the medical files. I wonder if it will still be the same as it was before when I hear it, will your voice still sound fond. Will it just be the doctor voice you use for everyone else? I’m not sure which would hurt more. I’m not sure I want to know, but I’ll tell you anyway my name I mean and I’ll keep coming to visit. how could I stay away? Youre still Will after all, even if right now you cant be mine. Ill always be yours though, no matter what, youre stuck with me im afraid, even if i do have to listen to all of your dad jokes again because you dont remember telling me (i actually secretly think theyre funny and since youll probablt never read this i can admit it safely). Its odd missing someone who is right there, youre still you after all, you still smile tje same, still have the same shitty fashion (no, neon green flipflops are not “in” amd have neber BEEN IN honestly william) but you dont smile at me the same and i cant help but he jealous of those you do

Well, I wrote my feelings and I still feel like shit and Mr D is a dirty liar but that’s really not a surprise.

love, nico

[in the morning]

*nico wakes before @dr-flipflops and sighs looking at him on the sofa so gently uses some shadows to move him into the bed, tucking him in and smoothing his hair back and scribbling a note reading “morning sleepyhead, here’s your reminder to drink some fucking water and eat more than a muffin and also to let your mother know that you have a cough or so help me hades solace ill do it myself, ill probably be gone when you read this because i have to pick aria up from sally’s but ill be back at somepoint because your mom made me promise, love you dont die see you soon” before whispering “love you” and leaving the room to speak to naomi*

nico: good morning mrs solace uhm.. sorry for intruding i didnt exactly plan to come it was more accidental shadowtravelling episode

naomi: nonsense, you know youre always welcome here, even after everythin’

nico (watery smile): yeah i know, how is he, will i mean, he doesnt seem.. happy

naomi: hes as well as he can be in this situation, he’d be doin’ better if he found it easier t’ let people in, if he let you properly communicate with him but… i also can’t blame him for his reaction

nico: neither can i, and i know i messed up, im trying to fix it i just- i don’t know how and.. *his voice breaks* i miss him and so does ari

naomi: *smiles gently at him* he does care about you nico, hes just hurtin’, he misses you too *she pulls him into a hug* it’ll be alright in the end

Nico: *fully crying now* thanks mrs solace

naomi: *pats him on the back softly* anytime sweetheart, now, you said you had somethin’ t’give me?

nico: ah, yes, *he pulls a thick bundle of letters out of his aviator jacket* its a collection of letters ive written to will throughout his amnesia, explaining.. well just about everything, when he says hes ready and wants to know then he can read all of them regardless if he wants to see me or not

naomi *smiling*: thats a lovely idea hon, very thoughtful of you, ill give them to him once you’ve gone back though, the topic is sensitive enough without…

nico *nodding*: without the added stress of my presence, i was just about to say that, besides i have to pick up aria from her aunt sally’s, she had a sleepover the past couple of nights

naomi: you should bring her, next time you come, i know will don’t remember but i do, an’ i miss my granddaughter

nico *smiling*: i will mrs solace dont worry, she misses you too, and thank you, for everything

naomi: dont thank me sweetheart its been my pleasure

*nico begins to wave goodbye before noticing will standing in the doorway*

[whoiwanttoday]

Guys it has been a week and it's only Wednesday. Somehow. Anyway, I am taking the easy way out here by posting Jessica Nigri. Cosplayers tend to be easy mode cause I don't have to look very hard or very long for pictures. There are a lot and they tend to be good. I am posting her cause she did a Squirrel Girl cosplay, a thing I did not know I needed but apparently I did. I have a long and storied history with Squirrel Girl in that once upon a time in my days as a youth roleplaying online in X-Men based Roleplay servers my password was Squirrel or SquirrelLover or Squirrelllll depending on the server. I did not set these, other people set them for me when they created my login because I had an ongoing joke about how Squirrel Girl was the new character find of the 90's and actually history's most powerful superhero. This is because at this point, Squirrel Girl had exactly one appearance, where she teamed up with Spider-man and kicked the shit out of Doctor Doom. It just was a comedy bit for me because there was no world where Squirrel Girl was every coming back because she was a one off character that was kind of silly and I love the silly side of comics but a lot of people, especially back then, hated it. Comics were serious business. Get this girl with the power to talk to squirrels who kind of looks like a squirrel out of my comics about serious stuff like a teenage boy getting bitten by a radioactive spider so he turns into an asshole which kind of gets his uncle killed and then he feels so guilty he spends the rest of his life fighting Nuclear Physicists who have the name Octavius and somehow end up with mechanical arms so they are like an Octopus and Billionaires who put on Halloween masks and create weapons that are all themed to be kind of halloween adjacent (this is what I would do if I were a billionaire but I'd be a good guy thank you very much) or you know, multiple people who just literally take an animal name and then wear suits to look like said animal. Serious business. Anyway, all that said, the joke got a lot less funny when eventually Marvel started making the same joke. And suddenly Squirrel Girl was the star of a comic about joke Avengers. Then she was just an Avenger. Then she got her own comic and somehow became the favorite comic book character of multiple children I knew in the mid 10's. Crazy. But I have always had that connection. I have not yet faced her in Marvel Rivals, a game I am awful at, I was much, much better at RPing the soap opera stuff in X-men than I am at using Magneto to I guess shoot bolts of magnetism at people. But I like the cosplay here either way. I think she's make a really hot Magneto now that I think about it. Maybe a good Scarlet Witch too but I want every cosplayer to do a comics accurate Scarlet Witch so don't trust me there. Today I want to fuck Jessica Nigri.

[bayzadas]

i have been...listening to javiers voice lines because theres just not enough content about him and im obsessed... so i wanted to share the things ive noticed about him! :D (and ill compare his voice lines with other character's)

Bro does NOT bother to hide it when he's irritated. He's actually pretty mean LOL He raises his voice pretty fast whenever he "greets" someone when he's annoyed. He says stuff like, "WHAT, (gang member)?" or "What you staring at?" or "Don't even start." pretty agressively. He even calls Uncle a waste of space 😭😭 (he also snaps at Dutch too! Not exactly being mean towards him, but raising his voice and asking him if he's gonna do something about the things going on)

John, on the other hand, greets people normally when he's annoyed. His tone is just different but he still actually greets people LMAO (which is the same for a lot of members) while Javier is just snapping at everyone 😭 The only person he doesnt snap at is MaryBeth i think. While he's yelling at everyone to be quiet and leave him alone, when he's speaking to MaryBeth he's literally like "You seeing this? This place... How do you deal with these idiots?" 😭 Instead of snapping at her, he's ranting to her. Which is kinda interesting cause I thought instead of MaryBeth it would be Tilly (because its implied they have something going on) but nah he snaps at Tilly too.

Lots of members make kinda passive agressive and mean comments about Arthur staying in camp for too long, but Javier is actually concerned! He doesn't make any mean comments, genuinely sounds concerned when he's saying it's not like him to stay in camp for so long, and he actually asks him if he's okay!!! I know its like... the bare minumim, asking someone if theyre alright when they're not acting like themselves, but the other camp members sound like they dont really give a damn 😭 so its very nice to hear javier caring.

Javier genuinely sounds confused and offended if Arthur wears a strange outfit LMFAOO ITS SO FUNNY ACTUALLY other members are amused or confused and Javier sounds offended lmfaooo

Also another thing I noticed! Javier likes it when Arthur joins and sits next to him by the campfire. Other members will ask him to sit down aswell, yes, but some of them will do it in a way that kinda implies "bro why you moving around so much c'mon have a seat and relax" (sadie, for example) lmfao but javier doesnt make any comments about arthur moving around a lot, he just asks him to join him. Uncle, for example, if he's annoyed, he won't want Arthur to sit down next to him. He'll say stuff like "if you sit down, dont expect company" or "you gonna come ruin this for me too?" But Javier, if annoyed, will still ask him to join him and kinda rant to him about stuff. He'll say stuff like "You joining me here?" "Always fun times around here." "I dont know why I bother sometimes."

He won't ask Arthur to join him by the campfire in beaver hollow 😔 He'll ask him if he's feeling alright, and he'll say "won't even sit next to me no more. 😒" which is kind of an invitation in a passive agressive way if you think about it😭 but like man. that line makes me think about arthur and javier's friendship. they were actually pretty close friends before beaver 😔 the way they speak with each other and act around each other, you could tell they were close and liked each other's company. yk how arthur was supposed to be meaner and colder but the developers changed that? yeah, there are deleted voice lines of that mean, cold arthur speaking with javier in which arthur is ranting to him about things and they have a little argument. javier is defending john and he says something like:

javier: "anybody would think you've given up on us all. the way youce been acting in camp recently. people been talking."

arthur: "people, huh?"

javier: "not me. i just hear things."

arthur: "yeah? sounds to me you've been talking too."

javier: "ever since we got stuck up here (colter) its like you just dont give a damn about noone no more!"

and like ik this is them not getting along but to be honest, to speak like this with not just someone but arthur (who's got a very high position in the gang and remind you, this is the colder version) you just gotta be close with him. he's not scared of him, he's just calling him out on his bullshit and he's comfortable around him enough to be able to do this.

in conclusion javier is a mean asshole when he's annoyed (also he DOES NOT like to be stared at, it makes him very uncomfortable and he gets agressive when he's annoyed) and him and arthur used to be pretty good friends before both of them started to believe theyve been betrayed by the other. :(

[annunen]

NHLWAM S12 E6: Anton Lundell & Sasha Barkov

Translated the highlights from this one too! Other FLA episode's translations here.

Again, Putkonen and Manninen are the NHLWAM hosts.

TLDR: Sasha is a proud dad, he praises his teammates and chirps Lundy a lot. Sunscreen discourse.

Under the cut!

-----

Manninen: Lunkka, it's been a couple years since we last sat there on the beach. How are you feeling, are you settled in Florida now?

Lundell: Yeah, it feels like home now. Even on that first season. No complaints, this is a cool place to play in and there aren't many places like this where you can go to the beach even in the winter.

Host: About being outside - it's really hot here, even today, so during the season do you have to wear sunscreen?

Lundell: You should. I've made the mistake of thinking "i don't need it, my skin should be used to the sun by now" a couple times and then my shoulders were completely red the next day.

-----

Manninen: So about Matthew Tkachuk, he's a really colorful person, at least on the ice. What kind of guy is he?

Lundell: Yeah, he came in with a rumble and showed everyone why he's such a good player. 40 goals, over 100 points. In the playoffs he showed us the direction, and that just tells about his persona, how much he just wants to win. He hates losing.

Manninen: What about your other new guy, Niko Mikkola?

Lundell: It's nice to have him on the same team. He's quite an annoying player, at least to play against, if i'm being honest. He plays hard, he's mean, he's a big boy. It's hard to play against guys like that. He's been a great addition to the team, bringing us some physicality and experience to the d-core.

Manninen: And what kind of guy is he off the ice?

Lundell: Really nice guy, Finnish too so it's nice to talk Finnish with him. He's a really funny guy too when he tries to joke a little.

-----

Putkonen: Who has the weirdest pre-game ritual? Does anyone have any weird ones?

Lundell: Patric Hörnqvist had a really weird one. Before the game he always took a stick to the bathroom and then he would say "we're going to score some dirty goals tonight".

(Putkonen jaw drop)

-----

Putkonen: Ville Nieminen asked "what things do you think you're better in than Sasha?"

Lundell: Soccer. Definitely.

Putkonen: What about padel?

Lundell: That's good. I don't think i'm better than him but at least i'm not much worse.

-----

Manninen: Welcome to the "Know your coworker" section. Here we have the Florida Panthers captain Sasha Barkov and the future alternate Anton Lundell.

(Sasha smiles sooo big at that)

(They had to know each other's draft club and draft number, hometown, birth year, junior club, shoe size, first car and eye color. After the fourth question Sasha asks "do you have any harder questions?" Both scored 8 points. I'll subtitle this clip later.)

-----

Putkonen: We came outside and it's like a heatwave day today, so i have a question: do you use sunscreen during the season?

(Sasha shakes his head.)

Putkonen: You don't?

Barkov: No I don't. I was at the beach yesterday and i didn't use sunscreen. I'm a tough guy.

Putkonen: Pretty tough cause Lunkka said he uses sunscreen at least for the beginning of the season.

Barkov: Lunkka is from Espoo.

Putkonen: Yeah, he is from Espoo. Tampere guys don't wear sunscreen.

(all three laugh)

-----

Manninen: So Sasha, you became a daddy a couple years ago! How would you describe this life event?

Barkov: It's quite a big change, but for the better. It feels amazing to have a person you have to take care of and watch him grow. Probably the best thing in my life.

Manninen: Could use the classic cliche of "you don't really understand until you become a parent yourself"?

Barkov: It's exactly that.

-----

Manninen: We were watching your game against Tampa. – – What caught my eye was after all the little scrums and brawls, when there was communication between the refs and the captains, Captain wasn't there. Had you delegated that task to Matthew Tkachuk? Is this a permanent thing or why was it Tkachuk and not you?

Barkov: We have actually agreed with him that when there's scrums like that, he knows about them more than me. He goes to negotiate with the refs. If there's something else to ask, then I'll do my job. But if there's a fight, he knows what to say.

Manninen: For all who have followed Matthew Tkachuk's career at all, he absolutely has seen those scrums. Last season he came in with a crash and really brought your team some of that rough edge.

Barkov: Yeah, he's an unbelievable guy on and off the ice. On the ice, everyone can see how he scores goals and points, how he plays. But how he is off the ice, how much he affects the team atmosphere and connects teammates, that's the biggest thing i've seen about him. He really is - he's like the glue of the team.

-----

Manninen: One Finnish new teammate! Niko Mikkola arrived in Florida this season.  How do you describe Niko as a player and a friend?

Barkov: He's an amazing guy. Just what we needed, a big guy who plays physically and moves really well for a guy that size. Just a great guy, he's really chill and you can crack some jokes at him and he won't get offended like Lunkka does.

(laughing)

Barkov: That might be because he played in Tappara for a couple seasons.

[pushovermediacritic]

This amazing art got me thinking about Luffy and Momo's first meeting in Punk Hazard, and I went back to read it.

Man, it's SUCH a good scene in hindsight. It didn't leave much impact when it first happened, but NOW? With all the context Wano added? My god.

Momo is talking about Kaido here. He's referring to Kaido holding him in the air above Oden castle. An enormous man, wide of girth, more ferocious and menacing. That's Kaido.

And he hasn't eaten in 10 days. That timeframe will turn out to be important, factoring into how long Kanjuro was in Dressrosa for, how long Raizo was in Zou for, and how long Kiku was undercover in Wano for.

In the moment, it's easy to dismiss the "no one understands my inner turmoil" line as just him being an edgy brat. But now we know.

This kid's father humiliated himself publicly for 5 years, then fought a dragon to save his country, and then was executed. Then Momo's home was set ablaze and Kaido held him in the air above an inferno while he cried. Then his mother told him to be strong and sent him 20 years into the future. Then he was separated from his guardians and saw Doflamingo torture and kill a man. And now he's here.

Momo's not fucking kidding, this kid's been through a lot, and he has to keep it all secret because he's undercover.

Momo's pride as a Wano royal saved him from being drugged here, and his insistence on sticking to the plan of going incognito saved him from being discovered.

We know Doflamingo was looking for Momo, and with Kanjuro being a spy and a good artist, Doflamingo knew exactly what Momo looked like. That would have eventually gotten around to Caesar if Momonosuke didn't hide his name and escape here.

Momo ate Vegapunk's experimental replica of Kaido's Azure Dragon Devil Fruit, obtained through Kaido's bloodline elements back when Kaido was a prisoner on this very island years ago. Kaido's escape is also when he met Alber, who was also a prisoner on this very island. And Alber's time here is how Vegapunk had his blood to create the Seraphim.

Also, this is the EXACT same situation where Luffy and Yamato ate their Devil Fruits. They didn't even know it would give them powers, they were just hungry and wanted something to eat (granted, Luffy wasn't starving like Momo and Yamato were, but still).

And he's not lying, he does have business.

Yeah... about that. I'm sure Momo would LOVE to see his mom and dad again. But they both died 20 years ago. It's nice you want to be friends, though, Momo needs them.

Momo transforms for the first time, hears the word "dragon", and bolts. Poor boy is very confused.

The fruit was dismissed as a failure just because it made the user pink, no other reason. But Momo has problems controlling it because of his youth, trauma regarding dragons, and fear of heights.

And that dragon trauma is also why he freaks out when seeing himself in the mirror.

Luffy says he's not a Zoan type here, which is funny because of what we learn later with Gear 5.

It's easy to forget, but here is the first time we learn this information, that the kids are doomed to die early deaths because of Caesar's experiments. Prior to this, we only thought they were growing larger and addicted to drugs.

Chopper figured this out, but while his conversation revealing this to Mocha takes place chronologically before this scene, it's only shown to the audience in a flashback 3 chapters after this one.

And that's why Luffy is SO FUCKING PISSED here. He's got reasons to hate Caesar already, but knowing that he's killing the kids raises his anger levels even higher.

Also, him saying "get a grip" triggers Momo's other trauma.

This is what Doflamingo said when Momo saw him torturing and killing a man, and that traumatized Momo. Momo's flight instinct activates here, as he runs away from the trauma by unconsciously "flying" the way Kaido does, by creating Flame Clouds and climbing on them. That becomes a major plot point later in Wano when Kaido and Momo use them to transport Onigashima.

This is 3 chapters later, the same chapter with the flashback of Chopper telling Mocha about Caesar killing the kids. To remind the audience of why Luffy is so furious here.

And yeah, Luffy walking out with an exhausted, starving, and traumatized child in dragon form wrapped around his neck like a scarf, literally carrying Momo's weight in a reassuring pseudo-hug while also symbolically carrying his will to save the kids, is a great underrated dramatic entrance for Luffy.

Especially with hindsight knowing that Luffy will continue to carry Momonosuke's will and that Luffy will eventually see Momo as an honorary little brother and Straw Hat crewmember.

My weirdly controversial take regarding One Piece is that Fishman Island and Punk Hazard are both great arcs, actually. People just needed to let Oda cook with the things he was setting up and trust that he had a long-term plan.

Heck, there are some things in both of these arcs that STILL have yet to pay off, like Joy Boy's promise to Poseidon, the Noah's purpose, why Luffy is prophesized to destroy Fishman Island, who first started the gigantification experiments hundreds of years ago, and why the Celestial Dragons want real dragons so desperately (to the point of creating artificial dragons and an artificial Azure Dragon Devil Fruit).

Luffy and Momosuke.

How it started and how it ended up. I wanted to draw adult Momo and Gear 5 Luffy in a similar pose to the one where Luffy carry Momo out from the trash shoot and made two art pieces that mirror each other.

[zzalina]

One day more or Sale el sol? Los Mis 2010

Okay so yesterday I made a post about Los Miserables 2010 and discovered there's more people who love it??? Someone asked me about the spanish translation of les mis and it was the straw that broke the camel's back for me to finally make a post. You have NO IDEA how long I've wanted to talk about this. Anyway, today I'll be talking about the 2010 spanish translation BUT I already have in my drafts a post comparing the spanish 1992, spanish 2010 and the original english versions. Without furhter ado, here are my thoughts about Sale el sol:

First things first: the title. "Sale el sol" means "The sun rises". I didn't use to like the translation because they could have gone with "Un día más" (as they did in 1992). It means exactly "one day more" and fits the music almost perfectly (you just have to pronounce it a little bit weird but nothing that isn't a common thing to do in songs). But then I saw this tweet:

"The phrase the sun rises instead of one day more to speak about resilience in a country in which the sun was used by fascists makes one feel mental peace, feel justice, feel art and revolution, it feels like recovering the light and coming out of the shadows"

A little bit of context: Spain was in a fascist dictatorship until 1975. There is a famous song from that time called "Cara al sol" ("Facing the sun"). It was the anthem of the Falange, a political party, but it's still used today by fascist groups. In this context, claiming the sun for a message like the one this song sends is really poetic justice and I just love it.

They also use the idea of the sun rising in "La canción del pueblo/Do you hear the people sing?" (I'll make a post about that one too) so it really links the two songs together in a very beautiful way. I could speak about the title for hours, but let's go to the lyrics:

On the left you have the original english lyrics, then the 2010 spanish ones and then the translation to english so you can see the differences. Pretty similar tbh

Marius being so dramatic in every langauge

Éponine's verses are always so sad but there is something about her feeling like she doesn't even exist for Marius that breaks my heart even more 💔

There's a lot I could say about Enjolras' part related to the 1992 translation but that will be a different post. Now take a moment to appreciate how Daniel Diges sings this lines pls look it up I love him

As you can see, in the translation we sadly lose the repetition of "one day more" 😔 Also Javert saying that the revolution will be born dead conveys to me the certainty that he had that it was not going to work. The army won't have to do much because the revolution will die by itself (and he was right, the people didn't join 😔)

Honestly I don't fully understand the Thenardier's part in english so I can't properly compare it, but they're so caothic in both languages, this part is so funny.

My favourite part of the song 😭 In english "Do you hear the people sing?" is the title of another song but since that one is called "La canción del pueblo" ("The people's song") they couldn't keep the verse exactly the same. But it's the first verse of The people's song

Just Javert's part bcs it's different, the others are kept the same than previously if I'm not wrong. Once again, there's no repetition in spanish 😔

I find it funny that since the original one talks about dawn at the end they translated it to "un día mas", doing the opposite of what they did with the title. It made me wonder for years why didn't they use it for the whole song since it fits the music. But now I know and you know too.

If you made it this far thank you for reading the post. If you liked it, there'll be more and if you didn't like it I'm sorry but there'll be more because I have a lot to say ✨

[jimmyspades]

New (!) old photo of Jimmy!! Meeting Liza Minnelli at Studio 54 in New York, December 1977. He was just 17 years old here!

[crystallizsch]

redrawing jamil's r cards in my (usual low-effort) style 😤💪

also the sr cards but i gave up on coloring (especially robes because this is just supposed to be quick and i’m NOT attempting those patterns 😭)

[luck-of-the-drawings]

[OLD ART ALERT] A COLLECTION OF SCENES FROM THE GILLIONS CATSCRATCH ARC THAT BROUGHT ME GREAT JOY. i love fishy chips especially when its just gillion being delirious and violent and hostile

[vaguely-concerned]

something extremely darkly comedic about the ease with which lucanis catches caterina's cane in his hand in murder of crows. *dissonantly casual lucanis voice* yeah I've learned every angle and arc of that blow by heart over the years I'd know it anywhere. I think that's what love is or something

(*distressed 'LUCANIS NO!!!!! D: D: D: D:' rook & indeed all of us noises in the background*. you ever think about how the competition she set up between her grandsons was ultimately for the prize of who she'd hurt more, because that meant you matter to her, that's the mark of her favour and your value -- that's how you know you are loved. and just want to throw up for a century straight)