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penvisions · 2 months ago

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stages of devotion {holiday hustle}

Pairing: Holiday Impaired! Joel Miller x Expert Holiday Baker! Reader

Summary: The holidays came fast this year, but with it comes a father and daughter pair you didn't ever expect to see again.

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: holiday triggers, holiday stress, baking stress, food industry triggers, family issues, minor off screen family dynamics, super soft yearning, mutual pining, sexual tension, smut, p in v, creampie, joel's dirty talk deserves its own warning, lemme know if i missed any!

A/N: so its a few days after the holiday that i announced this on. so so sorry for the tease, y'all. finally made it to my "weekend" only to get sick :c trying to make the most of the days though (within reason). love y'all and hope you enjoy this!

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The holiday season sucks.

That’s about all you’re confident in as you twirl the piping bag in your hand for what feels like the thousandth time that morning. There’s an entire rack of pies beside you, tray after tray that needs to be garnished with cremieux and a little chocolate coin that has the first letter of your bakery branded on it in gold. Behind it are three more of the same pie. Behind that are four more of apple.

Apple and pumpkin. The only flavors you offered for the season. One hundred each, plenty enough to keep you afloat for the next month or so if you sell out. Especially if you sell out the display case as well.

Your bakery is small, just you and your friend Colbie. Something to be passed in the blink of an eye on the busy downtown street. But it was born of passion and creativity, a space you carved out in the big scary world all for yourself. You’re none the wiser of how your day will turn out as you continue to pipe the faintly black spotted vanilla over the remaining pies, moving onto fetching things out of the oven as timers begin to go off and garnish the ones already chilled from an earlier bake.

Just down the street, Joel and Sarah are strolling down the sidewalk from where they parked the car at the end of the block.

“Don’t see why the crew needs more food, baby girl.”

“Because we need to show our appreciation for them, dad. They’re working the morning of thanksgiving, for crying out loud.”

“This isn’t exactly a tax write off…”

“Dad!” The exasperated teenager nudges at his side with her shoulder, catching his ribs lightly. But he doesn’t stumble nor do his steps falter, he lets her win a lot of the time but this? He still loves how she tries to roughhouse with him only to realize that he’s always gonna have the upper hand unless he gives into her. Her pout and huff draws a laugh from deep in his chest.

“It’s true! I gotta pay for it all outta my account, not the business. We already picked up breakfast for everyone and half the men are gonna store it in their coolers for a later time.” He pivots her toward the doorway just past a large window display, squares of glass allowing for a glimpse inside a local bakery.

“Don’t you put the catering on the business card?”

“Well yeah, but their overtime for today is coming out of it too.”

“Maybe if we ask the owner, they can discount us or something?” Sarah is suddenly stopping just inside the threshold, watching with wide eyes as her father walks in behind her. The scent of fresh baked bread and flaky pastries welcomes them despite the empty lobby. “Is there a reason you’re so hesitant to use the company card? I thought the business was doing good?”

Joel heaves a heavy sigh, placing both his hands gently on her shoulders to hold her attention and give her all of his.

“Everything is fine, Sarah.” His brown eyes take in the way her own multifaceted ones gleam in the bright sunlight shining in the muted green space the lobby has been painted. Plants alive and well, live wood bar top against the window for people to sit at. “Money is my worry, but there ain’t nothing to worry about okay?”

“We can still ask after a discount, it doesn’t hurt, right?” Suddenly shy, her eyes break contact with his and turn down to her scuffed shoes. “I know that it’s new, but the therapy sessions aren’t exactly cheap or covered by the insurance.”

“Hey now, don’t go worrying about all that either.” Joel’s voice is so soft, floating through the air and sneaking into the kitchen through the siding of the swinging door. You pause in the rosette you were piping atop a cake, just little personal ones with autumnal flowers for the season. “I’m the dad, and that’s a dad thing, okay? You want to keep goin’ and that’s all that matters. Just want you to be okay, that’s all I ever want ‘cause I love you so damn much, okay?”

She nods once, still not bringing her eyes back up but she huffs out a giggle when he leans down and kisses her cheek, deliberately nuzzling the scruff on his cheek against her own.

“Besides, I don’t wanna bother them, baby girl, it’s such a small place.” With that settled they both turn back to the display cause and counter, just in time to see you approach through the window in the door.

“Joel?” There’s no hiding the smile that breaks out across your face as you push through the swinging door that leads separates the kitchen and public area. Even despite the inner turmoil you had endured after first meeting him. The will he won’t he of leaving your number for him…

“Camp lady! Dad, look, it’s her!” The excited teenager hops up and down on her long legs, arms hanging onto one of Joel’s and she jostles him. The slight melancholy of her previous words and worries forgotten with the aid of Joel’s soothing ones and your appearance. “You work here? That’s so cool!”

“Yes, Sarah, honey, I see her.” He rolls his eyes for you to see as she skips forward up to the counter. He looks good, if a little tired. His scruff is longer, body a little leaner than when you had seen him last…two months ago now. You had been so sure he would call or text, reach out in whatever way was easiest for him. And when he hadn’t…you had thrown yourself into work and prep for the holiday season. Reveling in the night you shared and taking it for what it was, not letting the lack of communication taint what had been an electric connection. His eyes are glued to you, ignoring the twirling and excitement of his daughter as she flits in front of the display case.

As you round the corner of the counter and display case, it’s obvious how busy you’ve been in the morning hours as stains darken the fabric. Reaching with a flour dusted hand, you go to shake the man’s hand but he surprises you and pulls you into a tight hug. The smell of his spicy cologne and wood shavings spurs butterflies to life in your belly and heat rise to your cheeks.

“It’s good to see ya, darlin’.” He whispers in your ear, voice all baritone gravel. He releases you just as Colbie enters back in through the front door. You see the way her eyes widen at the show of affection, she knows you better than anyone and casual touch is not something you’re a fan of. But you can tell that she immediately knows who Joel and his daughter are if the sparkle in her eye and the smirk she flashes at you says anything.

“I’m so sorry, I thought I locked the door behind me. Want me to keep it unlocked, we’ve got about fifteen minutes until we’re open.”

“Leaving it open will be fine, do you mind-“ The timer pinned to your apron tie goes off and a second later the one for the oven blares from the kitchen.

“Got it!” And she’s rushing behind the counter to slip back through the sliding door.

Joel looks like he’s about to apologize for barging in, Sarah leading him in the early hour. Coffee thermos left on the counter in the rush and his brain is working overtime without it. The pickup order she had placed with a breakfast place too busy for him to grab something there. You wave him off with a soft smile, not minding the intrusion one bit.

“My dad would not shut up about you on the way home, especially since we still have that air mattress you leant us! Thank you again so much for that, I didn’t want my dad to have to sleep on the ground with his bad back.”

“Hey now, you’re a little too forward with the embarrassing details.” Joel’s bashful words are bathed in an even tone, trying to parent his daughter but still treat her like the independent person that she is.

“So what can I do for you?” You try to fight the slight awkwardness of randomly happening across them as customers in your shop and you swear you see Joel duck his head as he roughs a hand across the back of his neck. Your causal tone and polite smile dousing the hope that had flared in his own chest when you walked out from the kitchen. “I’ve got plenty of pastries, the pies aren’t quite done yet but if you need one or two, I can add the finishing touches real quick?”

“Dad, we should get them pie! Like one each, you think? There’s five on the crew and then the secretaries too, they should get one since they’ll be waiting for us in the office. We can put the bonus checks on top with some pretty stickers! Oooh, dad we gotta stop at the art store now!”

“Sarah, honey, take a breath.” Joel claps hand over her shoulder and she beams up at him. “We only got half an hour to get to the office.”

“Oh, that’s okay! We can still do the pie each thing, right?”

“Whatever you wanna do,” He presses a kiss to the top of her head, her kinky curls flattening as he does so and earns him a grumbled ‘spent so much time on it this morning, old man’.

“So that was seven pies then?” You ask, trying to keep up with the both of them, they’ve got such an easy-going way that they communicate. Their bond obvious and their love pure as you had witnessed back at that campsite, he wants for her to have everything he can give her. It’s admirable, a good man, a good parent.

“Uh, make it ten, please.” Joel steps up to the counter, taking out his wallet from a back pocket. “Half pumpkin, half apple. So folks can pick whichever one they want.”

“Ten, got it. It’s gonna take me a few minutes to finish up, do you want a coffee while you wait?” And you swear his gaze hardens as he looks up to see the price displayed on the screen, card ready to press against the pad after you finished punching in his order on your own side of the register. The same way they had just before he had kissed you, angled toward you in front of that fire, the determination set his face in such an endearing way.

“Would be wonderful, darlin’. Just a black drip, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“Hey, just so you know, ‘m sorry I didn’t call.” Joel shuffles on his feet, watching as Sarah starts up the truck and begins to dance to the loud beats he can make out through the cracked window. You had walked out with the pair to help load the bags into the extended cab of the gleaming gray truck. “I wanted to, but-“

“Life is hectic sometimes, it’s okay. I’m not gonna say I wasn’t disappointed, but I do understand.” You know he’s got a lot more going on in his life, with a child he’s raising on his own. The bakery keeps you busy, hours not quite the same as everyone. You never want to feel like you’re holding expectations for a life that just doesn’t fit into your schedule sometimes. And that included Joel, his own busy schedule not allowing for personal indulgences either. It’s hard not to feel like it’s a cruel twist of fate, that you two met only to realize the puzzle pieces of your life don’t quite match up.

“The paper, I had it. Put it in my pocket but my brother snatched the flannel instead of his own at the work site and washed the damn thing.”

“Little brother?” You tilt your head to the side, all too familiar with the chaos of sheer unpredictability one could bring.

“Yep, meddling, clueless little brother.” He’s fascinating, every little detail you learn about him draws you in closer, a pull toward the man you’ve only gotten glimpses of as of yet.

“Mine is pretty clueless too, god love him.”

“But- uh…oddly enough,” A large hand rubs at the back of his neck, the muscles of his arm straining against his flannel sleeve and catching your eye. “Mine is having a small dinner tonight, just us two, Sarah and his wife. Their twins. I know you got work today and don’t really know me at all, but I was wondering if-“

“Apple or pumpkin?” Lips pulling into a wide smile, you swear your heart is about to beat out of your chest, thudding wildly the second you realized where he was going with his explanation of his own holiday plans.

“Huh?”

“Do you want me to bring an apple or pumpkin pie?” You look up at him through your lashes, heat blooming in your chest at the insinuation he wanted you there, at the invitation you hadn’t been extended in years. Everyone always wanted the good you baked, the bread, the skills you had for the kitchen. But they never particularly wanted you around for the holidays. The family disappointment, for not being married, for not having kids, for not finishing school, for being too different.

“Darlin’ you don’t have to bring anything, just want you to come and be my date.”

And he couldn’t have said anything more perfect as you feel your throat constrict and tears well up in your eyes.

“Hey now, I mean it.” He’s shifting, hands reaching for you and you feel a little sorry for the ‘oof’ he lets out when you crash into his open arms. “Wanna get to know you, but only if you want that too. If we can carve out some time for each other.”

“Of course, Joel. That would…that would make me happy.”

“’m droppin’ Sarah off now, gotta head to the site for a few hours but I can pick you up here once I’m done. That sound okay to you?” He looks so hopefully, so happy that he can ask you in person, can ask to see you again now that he’s found you and it melts your heart. You’re sure the smile you give him is just as dopey at the one he’s beaming down at you.

“Yes, that sounds perfect. Here.” You pull away from him just enough to reach into your back pocket and brandish a business card at him. The thick cardstock is embossed in gold lettering, your name and number displayed on it proudly. “This is a little more permanent than a flimsy piece of paper.”

He pulls one of his own business cards out from his wallet as he securely puts yours away.

You continue to feel the warmth of his fingers passing it to you even hours later as you hold piping bags filled with cooled frosting, as you add frills and garnishes to pastries set in the cooler after leaving the oven a nice golden brown. And even as you feel your face heat up at the confrontation Colbie sneaks in throughout the day about your ‘gentleman caller’.

Around noon, Joel’s truck parks out front of the bakery. He’s showered, it looks like it as you see the shine to dark curls. He’s taken a shaver to his scruff as well, it’s not as long as it had been this morning.

“Please tell me you’re closed tomorrow.” Joel taps the hours displayed on the door as he steps through it, the gold lettering telling him that you were in fact not. But open at seven am sharp. Looking up from where you’re closing down the register, you hold up one finger up to indicate you need a moment.

As you continue, you can sense his gaze as it takes in the space you poured your blood, sweat and tears into. Devoted hours to manifesting and making it a reality. The case is completely empty, parchment paper adorned with errant crumbs all that he sees inside through the shiny glass.

When you step out from behind the counter, bag and keys in hand, you clock the second Joel realizes you’ve taken a moment to change as well. No longer in your dirty apron or black athleisure, but in a skirt that flows to about midthigh, tights underneath and a thin sweater. Your hair is down too, now, no longer pulled back into low pigtails and covered with a beanie for safety reasons around the kitchen.

“Darlin’, you look-“ He swallows, tongue watering as he takes in the sight of you all dolled up for him, for a date with him. “You look amazin’.”

“Just some spare clothes I had in my office. Didn’t wanna roll up to your brother’s house covered in flour and chocolate.” He’s shushing you as he ambles up, pressing his lips to your forehead as he cradles your face.

“He wouldn’t have cared and neither would I. Today is about family, no matter their shape or mess, got it? Miller households are safe places, you hear me?”

The drive over to his brother’s is short, the two of them in the same neighborhood but different blocks something that tickles you to know end. Watchful big brother, independent little brother who didn’t want to stray too far. It’s endearing, so different from you own family. Parents live upstate, brother is still in university, opting to live in the dorms instead of with you. Younger sister god knows where now, she pops up every year with a crazy tale of where she ended up for most of the time she had disappeared.

His brother doesn’t seem surprised in the least when Joel shows up on his doorstep with you at his side, his greeting a wide smile and bright eyes. His wife, Maria is just as easy going, just as welcoming. Praising you for bringing dessert and that she had totally blanked on it for after the meal in the hectic planning of the day.

The atmosphere is cozy, holiday cheer abundant despite the temperate Texas weather that plagues the state year round. Sarah is particularly excited to be helping out this year, the first she’s old enough to. A set of twins half her age run around with shrieking laughter as Joel and Tommy chase them around and keep them busy while you help out in the kitchen as well, not wanting to just show up and sit around waiting for everything to be done.

It's so different from your usual meal alone, normally just leftovers from the day before on a tray as you settle in bed and binge watch something once the bakery closes up.

It warms your heart and makes you feel full in a way that being with your family never has. From the easy going conversation with Maria, the light teasing and focus of following instructions from Sarah, stolen glances with Joel, the wide brimming smile of his brother as he realizes that the scene is a little more complete with you there now.

“Tell me I can kiss you, please.” Joe’s lips brush the shell of your ear, causing you to shiver at the vibrations that caress the sensitive skin. He’s been angling closer all afternoon, the couch cushions flattening and sloping. Pooling you closer to where his thick thighs rest, to the intoxicating warmth of his body and the heady smell of his spiced cologne. The movie credits are playing softly on the screen, everyone well fed and just now recovering to tend to things such as packing up leftovers and beginning to organize what was left.

The second you two were alone, Joel had used the arm he had slung up on the back of the couch around your shoulders to tug you in close. Tucking you into him, he used his other hand to pivot your legs into his lap. He’s kneading the skin there, over your tights. Thick fingers daring to trace higher and higher as he pulls back to look into your eyes.

“You’re so goddamn pretty, baby, can’t believe my streak of bad luck.” And at the flash of guilt in the depths of warm brown eyes, you surge forward and kiss him with a ferocity that startles him. The small ‘humph!’ and the tightening of his hand around your thigh curls desire low in your middle as his tongue eagerly meets yours as you part your lips.

“Bad luck, good luck. Doesn’t matter.” You manage between deep kisses, hands threading through the thick locks of chocolate curls atop his head. “We’re here now, I’m here with you.”

“Good.” He’s swallowing the moan that bubbles up from how he presses into you, how he pulls you flush with him.

“Joel! We got a house full of impressionable kids and you’re just makin’ out on the couch with the baker?”

The deep rumble of his chuckle does nothing but make your stomach jolt as heat lances through your core. The sound hitting deep and making you bury your face in the man’s neck as he parts only his lips from yours.

“Gotta embarrass me always, huh?” He’s holding you tight still, hands gripping and knuckles straining with the effort it’s taking to stop his ministrations.

“Just keep it in your pants, we’ve got everything packed up for y’all to take home. Sarah’s tucked into the spare room, helping out this year really took it outta her.”

“That where she snuck off to?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. We can watch her for the night. She don’t go back to school until next week right? Just come get ‘er tomorrow. And you,” Tommy aims twin finger guns at you. “Are welcome back anytime, Maria really appreciated the help in the kitchen but mostly I think she just loved having another woman around to chat with. Seriously, she’s gonna offer to come by the bakery and grab lunch one day soon.”

With that, Tommy saunters back into the kitchen with a snicker of his own and some words you can’t quite make out to the woman in question.

“Well, what do ya think?” Joel moves to whisper in your ear again. “Wanna come back to mine? Or I could take you home? Whichever you want, sweetheart.”

The sudden image of you and Joel tangled up on top of your bed has you kissing him full on the mouth one last time.

“Take me home and then take me to bed.”

Giddy anticipation fills the cab of his truck, the engine ticking as he shuts it off and just sits back for a moment. His eyes find yours and you can’t help the giggle that bursts from your chest, hands tangled and fingers twisting around each other in your lap. His hand reaches and takes one of your own, engulfing it with the sheer size difference. His beautiful hands that craft houses and woodwork, his beautiful hands that raised his amazing, rambunctious but sweet daughter, his beautiful hands that held his young nephew and niece with such care. His beautiful hands that you’ve felt explore your body twice now, the urge for him to do so again so strong it makes you feel dizzy.

“I can leave if you’re nervous, darlin’. No pressure, no hard feelings.” Joel Miller, the man that he is, knew just what to say to ease your worries.

“No, no. I just…”

“Thank you, for today.” You whisper, emotions getting the better of you. “I really thought that…this year I’d be alone again. My family only ever asks after desserts, always schedules the meal late and too far away for me to make the drive. I…I really liked spending time with you and your family today, they made me feel so welcome and included. It- it was really nice, Joel.”

The trembling of your lower lip is embarrassing but you can’t fight it off as you bare your heart to the man beside you.

“Hey now, it’s okay. I got ya,” He’s shuffling closer, the console pushed up to allow him to slide across the bench seat. “They loved you, ‘m sure they wouldn’t mind seein’ you more.”

And it’s easy, the way he soothes the turmoil in your mind, begins to help heal the trauma that bubbles up this time of year.

It’s easy how he kisses you and makes you feel like the most important person in the world.

It’s easy how he let’s you guide him into your home with clasped hands and a shy smile.

It’s easy the next morning when you wake up beside him, his naked body like a furnace under the sheets as it wraps around your own. The hours posted on your bakery door correct except for the day that follows any holiday. His breath little puffs against the back of your neck as you both share a pillow, while your exhalation becomes needy as you feel an ache between your legs. Little whimpers thrown into the air with no regard to how desperate they sound.

Heat sparks through you as you recall the desire in his hooded eyes the night before as you straddled him, taking your time with lowering yourself onto his hard cock, already dribbling when he had shucked his pants off for you to see all of him for the first time. The sight of him sprawled across your bed, head thrown on the pillows and bronze skin gleaming in the low lights strung up over your bed had all but turned you possessive. The memories were too much, kindling desire and pleasure in you in such a way that should be a warning in itself that you were fucked.

You were gone on him and you could only hope he felt the same way.

Soon enough, the shifting of your thighs to relieve pleasure that tingles there rouses him.

“Woke up needy, huh darlin’?” His voice is deep velvet, the early morning blessing him with such a soothing baritone that it almost has you rolling your eyes at it caresses over your skin much like his exploring fingers.

“Mhm, can still feel you. Right here-“ And his hand flattens against the soft give of your stomach where you guided it, just below your belly button.

“Fuck, that’s so hot, you have no idea.” He’s crowding you, body shifting to press your chest to the bed, his legs tangling with yours as he kneels behind you. He hinges your hips, bringing them up to rub the length of his cock between your glistening folds. “So full a me still, holding it like such a good girl for me.”

The whine of his name from your lips has him pushing in, slowly and carefully until his hips meet the back of your thighs. Turning it into a low moan that raises the hairs on the back of his neck. Your panting is all he can hear, the clench of your walls all he can feel as your back arches and you press back into him.

“Right here, huh?” His hand is still on your belly, and it presses now, pulling a yelp from you as the pressure in your core intensifies. Your cunt gushes around him, earning you a hiss as he grinds himself against you to make a squelching sound.

“Please please please tell me we’re going to do this again.” You move on him, pulling forward a bit, knees spreading and hands gripping tight to the sheets underneath you. Joel’s answering groan is more than enough but his voice delivers your fate in such an easy way.

“Oh darlin’, we’re gonna be doin’ this every day for the rest of our lives.” And with that he moves to grip your hips so tight you’re sure there will be reddened imprints of his fingers, pulling out in a slow drag before he slams back in and sets a brutal pace.

And maybe the holidays aren’t so bad, after all.

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alexisomnias · 2 years ago

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"LAY ON MY LAP" . . .

⤷ when they're stressed, you offer your lap as a pillow! requested by anonymous ,,,

featuring the DORM LEADERS

"RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

“i can…?”

riddle is admittedly nervous when you first say he could rest his head down on your lap. its not that he doesn’t want to! its just that it may be awkward… at least on his behalf. he's never really been intimate with anyone, and while this could be argued as not that intimate, it was too him! (it took him weeks to even start holding your hand)

he glances at you, questioning with his second glance. when you show no sign of retracting your statement he slowly leans his head down to lay on your lap. in no longer then a few minutes he’s comfortable as ever, and soon enough all signs of stress leave him as shallow breaths of tiredness replace it. riddle didn’t realize how comforting such a thing could be… he may take this upon him more often, of course if you let him!

"LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

“lean back.”

leona is the one to take the initiative, finding you laying on his bed upon returning back to his dorm room. he sees it as the perfect chance to destress with his lover by his side as the solution. Might as well sleep it off, no? especially since there is the gift of you right there for him.

you put your phone down, throwing him a questioning glance, to which leona ignores and takes a seat in front of you. leaning back till his head lies between your thighs. resting himself in your embrace, like he was meant to be there in the first place. sleeping like a cat on your lap, your hands might start to slave away through his hair, lulling him to sleep fast enough to let all the stress of the day leave him. it doesn't take long for his heart to calm, and mind to stop running. he knew you were the perfect pillow.

"AZUL ASHENGROTTO

“are you sure?!?”

azul admittedly had a rough day. the handle on the tweels slipped far much more then usual today which left him doing majority of the work dealing with both the business and keeping the eel brothers in check, lots of running around which left him stressed and exhausted by the end of the day. so when you recommend that he comes rest on your lap? that leaves him breathless with flush creeping up his skin as his heart rings in melody.

upon reassurance that you don’t mind and only wish to help him,. azul pushes past embarrassment of the situation and lays his head down on your lap. his head fitting perfectly on your warm skin (contrary to his cooler tone of temperature), and his eyes shut in relaxation. was being this close to you always so comforting? the stress leaves his system, for even if only this moment… it dissipates into nothing but undying love for you.

"KALIM AL ASIM

“thank you!”

kalim for the most part didn’t need an excuse to lay his head down on your lap. though in this moment of time, when you offer it, he takes it up, oh your so nice to him... a bright smile on his face as he looks up at you from between your legs. head lying down on you as he hums comfortably. loving feeling close to you as he is.

stress wasn’t an uncommon emotion for kalim, while it never took over a fooled through his head, today it seemed to catch a hold and didn’t let go like caught bait,,, it seemed as if the universe was nice enough today to bring you to him and let him rest in an aura of your love. and he wouldn't give it up for the world, for you make him happier then anything else in the world could ever make him be.

"VIL SCHOENHEIT

“are you okay with that?”

vil was no stranger to affections, he engages such with you quite often as well! so he asks you once again if your truly okay with him laying down and using your lap as his pillow. when you agree that its okay, vil silently makes his way over and lays his head down upon your lap. he quickly gets rested, and secure between your legs as he takes deep breaths. arms crossed over his chest as he lies down in a princely manner (he is always so pristine it seems..."

he says a thank you, whispering it softly for your ears only. it seems only you knew when he was in need of a rest, a break of sorts. it seems as if only you know when he needs it the most, when he needs you the most... he can thank you for that though, thank you for sticking by his side even when he is during his more ugly moments.

"IDIA SHROUD

"WHAT DID YOU SAY?!"

upon hearing your request, his hair flushes pink in a quick motion. the tips of his hair burning quickly as he stutters. thats so embarrassing! how could you ever request something such like that?! he pretty much crashes when you say it would be fine and you'd be happy to have him on your lap! do you have any idea what your consenting to?! (its not that bad man!)

it takes a bit of reassurance, and a lot of apprehension on idia's behalf, for him to silently waltz over and lay his head embarrassingly between your legs on your lap. he hides his face in your thigh, though you could feel the heat radiating off it, as you laugh softly (he loves that sound). he mutters a thank you, letting his thoughts fly away. it was like you were a protection charm used in video games, used to keep negativity away from him!

"MALLEUS DRACONIA

"oh? how interesting."

malleus found the concept of using a lap as a pillow amusing. he briefly remembers Lilia laying him on his lap when he was younger, and seeing the same done with Silver and Sebek, though nobody has ever offered... interesting. today malleus wasn't in the bests of moods, piling stress one on another truly gets to everyone at some point it seems. and this is... just what he needs.

so he accepts your offer on stand, and lays down. laying horizontal on your lap so his horns don't stab against your stomach, and malleus quickly grows relaxed. a homey feeling you truly do give off for him. perhaps he'd ask to lay like this more often, he thinks to himself, admiring you from below. staring up at you as you lay back yourself to rest.

"how wonderful you look under the moonlight." he thinks.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #kalim al asim x reader #vil shoenheit x reader #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia x reader #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto #kalim al asim #vil schoenheit #idia shroud #malleus draconia #suns pencil.

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lxvme · 2 months ago

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before u happen to stumble upon this…

ion rlly write a lot, n my txting grammar is SO much worse than m writing grammar 😭 if there’s any mistakes, this wasn’t proofread bc it’s all hours of tha night rn. secondly, this is also prolly my first lil writing on here, so treat it either w ignorance or a lil bit of nice haha, that’s all!

i saw this post (i didn’t like it n refreshed the page buttt…) abt how older!simon would b at the beach- i think they were somewhat accurate, but i jus had a lil more to add on haha.

older!simon can, in fact, enjoy himself at a beach. while it isn’t his preferred place, nor decompression activity (i wld say his is def just sitting on the couch or on a balcony, smoking may or may not be included- i need to make a list of his hobbies now) but it suffices. simon would 100 percent need a ‘little bi’ o’ beggin, love,’ or a ‘y’said please, rih’?’ for him to go.

older!simon also would require a small cooler, with the beers of his choice. nothing else particularly about this, i js thought it was needed.

older!simon, while he’d definitely be moaning about for quite the long minute, wouldn’t take forever to join you (or, if you won’t, he’ll just go by himself) in the water. he’d like to enjoy the sun, for a bit, before he’d succumb to the waves. (he does, however, refuse to admit how much he likes the water) it’d be comical as fuuuuck- seeing a big boy like him having fun and getting into a small water fight, which would most certainly be escalating into more; i actually think water fights with simon end in him just SLAMMING you into the water. (not like he means to!! he tries not to be so harsh, out of deployment… most of the time)

older!simon would also just love to stand in the water with you- maybe he’d already gotten your hair soaked, to your protest, and he’d either just tug you in by your waist, or, you’d get yourself situated on his shoulders because ‘’s a nicer view f’you, love- jus’ takin’ care o’ you, aren’ i?’

anywaysss…

im sry its short! tumblr is muchhh more stressful than i thought 😰

#dont look at me #i am insane #help me pls #plssss #i dont know #uhh #uhhhhh #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #call of duty #cod #ghost cod #cod mw2 #simon riley

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undercovercameron · 2 years ago

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only you

summary: a midnight meeting is never off the table for him.

notes: i cranked this one out like two two weeks ago but i didnt get around to editing it... apologies! this is a continuation of my same person, same mistakes fic, as it concerns rafe with a gf and the reader being highschool fwb with him. features a masturbation kink, dirty talk, and a whole lot of nostalgia! enjoy my darlings, and dont forget to watch the fuck out of obx 3 (i finished it an hour ago and its 2:00 am my time and im not sure). feel free to talk to me about it ;)

tags: rafe cameron x fem!reader

word count: 2213

It’s nearly 3 am when he shows up at your house, mind all over the place, and parks in your driveway. He knows your parents won’t be mad seeing his truck— they can’t help but love him. He slams the driver’s door shut and jogs around to the backyard, breathless in the cooler night air. The grassy shore two hundred or so yards from your house ripples with the harsh wind of early summer storms, and he wipes a hand at his forehead. It’s still hot.

Rounding the corner, he sees the metal basin that curves around one of your basement bedroom windows, and drops down onto the gravel that lies at the bottom.

You barely register the sound, fast asleep in your bed when he glances in at the dark room.

He digs around for a second in the gravel and finds the familiar curve of the window key and quickly unlocks the latch. Throwing it back down, he uses his arms to push up on the handle and slide it far enough so that he can crawl in.

You turn onto your back in your bed, and he nearly smiles at how you look. So calm, yet so stressed with your eyebrows drawn. But Rafe just hops into your air conditioned room clumsily, shoes quiet on the carpet, and nearly tips over into your desk. He turns to the window and closes it quietly.

He takes a moment to listen for any movement in the house. He knows your parents go to bed before midnight, so they’re sound asleep—he’s mainly worried about your brother. He was such a cock block in highschool.

You move in the sheets again and his attention is drawn back to you. You’re so peaceful. Oh, well.

“Y/N,” he whispers, and reaches to shake your leg. You lick your lips and burrow deeper into your pillow. “Y/N!” He raises his voice, glancing at your locked door.

“Hm,” is all that comes from your mouth, and your eyelids twitch.

“Fuck,” he curses to himself. Fine. Grabbing one of your ankles, he drags you to the foot of the bed.

“Hey!” You croak, startled awake, and blink furiously around. “Oh.” You clear your throat and wipe your eyes. There’s a handsome man at the foot of your bed.

“Hey,” he says, looking down at you, and his hand finds your shoulder. You’re dressed in soft shorts and a skimpy tank top in an effort to remain cool in this summer heat—it makes his heart thump against the wall of his chest.

“Why’re you here?” You ask, voice still groggy, and your skin erupts in goosebumps where his fingers move.

“I told you I’d come today.”

“Yeah, during the daytime.” Your eyebrows draw together and you push up onto a hand. “Not in the middle of the night.”

“Do you want me to leave?” His eyes stare down at yours. You look over him, liking the way those jeans and flannel shirt look on him. The crickets chirp outside, and you hear a branch moved by wind brush the side of your house. His hand migrates and a thumb rubs at the skin of your stomach, nudging the hem of your tank top up.

“No,” you finally settle on, and he steps closer to the bed.

“Okay,” he murmurs, and dips. Your lips connect, soft against soft, and you shiver. He smells like the sun and that car freshener he keeps in the glove compartment. His hands find your hair, cradling your head, and your body prickles at the touch. It’s so late, and he’s so warm— you just melt into him. You grip at the sides of his shirt and fall back onto your bed, taking him with you.

He grunts, pulling away from your mouth for a second, and follows you up the bed as you move closer to the headboard. He looks huge like this.

Your legs come together.

He bites his lip and with a hand on your knee moves them back apart. You settle with your shoulders against your pillow, and he leans down, between your legs once more, and kisses you.

“Rafe,” you mutter into his mouth, and he hums wordlessly in response. Your body is so soft and nice when you arch up into him that he forgets about anything besides you. You grab at his hand at your waist and drag it up your body, and when his thumb brushes your hardening nipple the crotch of his pants tightens. Fuck.

He pushes his knees into your bed, keeping your legs spread for him, and straightens. His large hands fumble with the buttons of his shirt, and he shrugs it off. The material of the shirt underneath nearly rips with how quick he takes it off. His skin is shiny and strong in the moonlight, and it takes all of your mental strength to not lean up and kiss all over his chest. That would mean you’re desperate to feel and touch him— and you’re definitely not. Between your legs definitely doesn’t ache terribly when he unbuttons his jeans.

“Please.” You lean up to him, sliding a warm hand around his shoulders, and bring him back down with you. He makes a noise when he feels your fingernails scrape his skin, but your mouth is back on his, so what reason is there to complain? His nose brushes your cheek when he pulls away to tug the tank top strap off of your shoulder, and you shudder in the cold air.

His thumb nudges your nipple back and forth, making your blood rush in your ears as your chest heaves, and he bows to catch it in his mouth. Rafe sucks, pink lips perfect just for this, and you arch up into him. The scent of body soap washes over him, and he just breathes you in. So sweet. He curls an arm around your waist, forcing your skin up against him, and you make a noise of contentment.

He mouths at your breast until he has you panting up into the night air, eyes closed, and then moves to the other. Your eyes open briefly and you slide a hand across his head, feeling his warm scalp and soft hair under your fingers.

He hums into your skin, nipple caught between his teeth, and you nearly cry out. But you hold back, wanting to save it. He pulls at it again, wanting to hear that pained noise you know he loves, and your heart skips a beat. You suck in a breath.

“So responsive,” he murmurs into you, and his gaze briefly moves to your face—his dick hardens even more.

“I’m impatient, Rafe,” you huff, petting his hair, and squeeze your thighs around him. “Please.”

“Needy,” he says more to himself than you, but pulls away to get a hand at the waistband of your shorts and move out of the way so he can rid you of them and get to what he’s actually been thinking about all day. He throws them over the edge of your bed and crowds you against the headboard again, mouth insistent upon yours as his fingers find your slick. Your thigh jerks when his pointer finger draws a line up your folds, and he just hums into your mouth. His thumb pushes into your clit, demanding, and his middle finger slides easily in. You clench around him, head thrown back into the pillow, and your eyes squeeze shut.

“Fucking wet,” he grits out through his teeth, digging his face into your neck. Your skin ripples with goosebumps at his hot breath on your throat, and he slides another finger in.

You’re so warm, so tight, so wet around him— it makes his heart smash into the cage of his ribs. It’s just like high school. You, sweet and perfect for him, and him, brooding and in the palm of your hand. He tried to not let you know that too much, though. Can’t let people around him know that he cares.

“So perfect.” His teeth nip the soft skin on your neck, and you grab a hand at his forearm, guiding him faster. He accedes, knowing what you want, and slips another finger in. You tingle and curve up into him, unused to the stretch, and the breath is stolen right from your throat.

His thumb slides off of your clit when you push it away. Your fingers replace his thumb, and he just tries to breathe. You know every fucking avenue to getting him to cum in his pants, and he’s really trying to avoid that outcome.

Your noises become higher in your throat, whinier, and he feels you start to pulse around him. His fingers push even deeper, going the perfect speed, and then you’re shaking and trying to both get away from and get closer to his hand.

He grabs at your hip and keeps you in one place, hand continuing, and you grab at him frantically.

“Too much, Rafe,” you cry, neck cramping at the angle you’d stretched it to for the longest time, but he continues on. Your blood is pumping so fast, so hard in your body, and the rush of orgasm fades into numb pleasure that makes you pulse around him.

“Come on, baby, I know you can.”

Your mind calls memories to the surface— memories of him pushing you past your limit, making you scream, cry. You loved it, and he only continued when you were nodding and shaking for him. Any inkling that you weren’t into it he was off of you. He was no stranger to felonies, such as drug distribution or grand theft auto, but he didn’t dare do anything that was a question of consent. Off the table.

“Your fingers are so—so big.” You ramble on, talking of good things only like the size of him and how he feels and tastes and smells, and his hips twitch where they're pressed to you. Fuck.

“So close, Y/N,” he pants into your ear, hips rolling steadily into your thigh and pelvis, and you feel his dick jump against you. “You’re so close.”

Your torso shakes with the effort and tension in your muscles, and he bites into your pillow.

“I fucking—,” you start, but you fling your head back into the pillow before you can finish. He really wishes he knew what you were going to say. “Yes, yes, yes—fuck!” You chant, and your hips twitch where they meet his hammering hand as you cum onto his fingers. He continues on for a little bit, loving the feel of you, but pulls his fingers out. They immediately push into his mouth and you take the moment to pull yourself together.

Sweat sticks the sheets to your back, beading at your forehead too, and you’re sure your face is flushed red. The room is undeniably hot, filled with the hot breath and energy palpable in the air. You’re sure it smells like sex, too.

Rafe catches your jaw in his hand and tilts you up for a kiss, lips hot and smooth against yours. As he settles into you again, your hand finds the crotch of his pants. He breaks away immediately, cursing and looking down at your fingers.

“Touch it,” you breathe, eyes locked on his. His wide, clear, blue eyes. “For me.”

Rafe’s large fingers push yours away and dig into his underwear, and his eyes close when his palm circles the tip of him. You look up at him, hands coming to your chest, and you cup your breasts. His eyes follow your fingers as they pinch your nipples. You back arches, and his hand around his dick pumps faster.

“You’re so good for me,” you say, as breathless as you can manage without sounding like a corny phone-sex operator, and his head cants back at your voice.

“Shit,” he gasps, mouth hanging open when he looks down. “O-Only you.” It’s more to himself, but your chest swells.

“Yeah?” You ask, and sit up. Your hands find his waist and his torso, and you lean up so his mouth is inches from yours. “Not your girlfriend?”

“Fuck,” he exhales, cheeks pink, and his eyes close when you trace his chest with a finger. “No. Not her. Never.”

You just hum, pleased, and curl a hand around his own to slow his hand. His hips twitch, fucking himself between your two hands, and his mouth opens in a “fuck” before he’s cumming right into your bare chest.

“Christ, Y/N,” he says, panting, and covers the upper half of his face with his forearm. His knees ache.

You rise clumsily from the bed and stumble into your bathroom, returning with the hand towel. You wipe at your chest and throw it back into the bathroom, careless.

“Are you staying?” You ask, nearing him, and lean one knee on the bed. He curls an arm around your waist and tugs you closer in the darkness, lips pressed to your temple.

“I don’t think you could get me to leave your bed right now, sweetheart.” He smells like sweat and the remnants of cologne, and you breathe him in.

“I’m counting on it,” you whisper, and kiss him square on the mouth.

#obx #obx 3 #obx smut #obx x you #obx x reader #obx fanfic #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron imagine #rafe obx #rafe cameron fanficton #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron oneshot

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itstheendofthegoddamnworld · 4 months ago

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Swallowed Whole by The Flame (Messmer the Impaler x Tarnished! Reader) 10

MASTERLIST

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Summary: Messmer is stressed, and when he unravels, he becomes frustrated.

A/N: This chapter is labelled a spicy chapter 🌶️Warnings for this chapter: male masturbation

A03 link

Chapter 10: Undoing

"Leave me."

His personal knights, and his staff hurry out at once the tornado has made its way into his chambers, a mess of red that has consumed him body and soul.

He doesn't look back to know he's alone, he hears the many footsteps leave at once, shutting the door so that he feels some level of peace wash over him.

He would hate for his men to see him like this; wracked with shame and on the path to losing it.

Messmer likes to think he's a relatively calm man, and it takes a lot to piss him off. That thing pissing him off though was running amok and battling his men, reading his books. He allowed it, allowed her despite this entire time for some absurd unknown reason.

It didn't help that he still couldn't get out of his head the way you felt.

Your soft skin, the way you felt in his arms, the memory flashed so vividly that he thought he was truly losing it. How had this Tarnished do it-- he wonders. Perhaps it was a curse to torture him forever. It could be one of the many ways.

His insides tighten, and he's half-leant against the pillars of his darkened chambers, trying to distract himself even with his cock still hard and it's not going away. No matter what he thought, there was nothing he do to distract himself.

Curse her. He thinks, wracking a hand through his wild red locks, a sheen of sweat on his forehead makes him feel as if he's just drunk the strongest alcohol and it has lit a pyre in his gut.

The heat is too intense, the serpent calls within, and he's ripping at his clothing to be rid of the confinement, discarding his helm with a thud as he throws the red mantle off him. The cooler air hits the exposed areas of his skin. Still, it is not enough.

He can't even close his eyes without you taking a part of his mind, the way you looked up at him when he caught you, that you knew this was all just as embarrassing as how he felt inside.

It's not the only memory that comes to mind, there are many others. When you're wearing red, his colours. When you kept your promise and returned to him on the verge of death, even when you're half bleeding all over the place and you're trying to find a way to vex him.

How could he explain himself if you accidentally found out about the tent forming between his legs.

He is half human after all, but all this had still been new to him. He had his urges, but he had quelled them before they could fester. Sometimes, he gave in, but the regret hit him hard soon after. It was never about him, never what he wished for. He was a soldier and soldiers never thought for themselves.

He was somewhat disgusted in himself for feeling this way, like some carnal beast, thinking thoughts that were so mixed that it muddled his head.

He hated her, oh, he hated the way she flounced around his Keep, grinning with blood in her teeth and breaking any bone in her body for the thrill of it, but Messmer had never felt so thrilled and enticed ever in his entire existence to witness this.

The Tarnished was merely an acquaintance, not his enemy nor a friend - not that he had many of those. Could he call upon her to be his friend?

He had witnessed first-hand the way you were blessed by his mother's golden grace, and you had not fallen to Miquella's ways. Friend or foe, you were a distraction.

Messmer slumped in defeat, closing his eye as all distractions failed, he had come to realise one thing, the thing that his mind had been trying to deny whilst his body yearned for more.

It is the greatest of defeats he feels when his hands wound their way down his stomach, across his strong thighs and finding purchase on his hardened length.

He winces immediately, trying to ease the sensitivity by rubbing himself through his loincloth It doesn't do enough to help ease it, as the guilt hits him.

Stress consumes him to think he was so foolish to have feelings like these. He curses himself, foolish and immature, yet his hand finds a way inside, holding his length as he gives long strokes.

He almost collapses to the ground at the sharp sensations, biting his bottom lip as he tries to keep his noises at bay. He runs a finger over his tip, already leaking with precum as he smears it, helping to intensify the sensitivity.

His precum helps his hand guide along his length, urging him to continue, harder, faster strokes have him quivering and whimpering.

His eye remains shut, but it reveals the filthiest of fantasies that have him half feverish and insane.

In them all, all he sees is you.

Your face, the way you look up at him, the way he imagines what you would look like naked, drenched in sweat, in blood, beneath him or on top. His hand doesn't tire it's spurned on by what he sees, his stomach begins to twist from the upcoming release.

He's never been this close this quickly, choking on his tears as they leak from his golden eye. Bliss is on the horizon as he quickens in his strokes, biting his lip until he's sure he tastes the bitter copper. He sees her in his fantasy, bare beneath him, moaning as he takes her, and he's closer, so, so close, until he hears the whisper of his name.

"Messmer."

His orgasm comes to him like a punch to the gut he's doubled over, failing to hide his muffled moans as his hand and the ground is covered in his essence. Pearly white drops decorate his skin, the ground is marked in his shame as he collects himself, letting out a shaky moan as he comes down from his high.

He's ashamed of himself in an instant, collecting his breath, reality coming back to him that he remembers where he is. The hand not covered in his cum runs through his sweaty hair, defeat consumes him as he tells himself he will lurk in the darkness of his room for as long as need be, just so he didn't have to see her for some time.

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

You don't try to think much about Messmer's abrupt departure, believing that a man as busy as himself is a means to himself. He's part god, so you tell yourself that he has things to deal with that you cannot relate to. He does have an entire Keep to run.

Finding a nook for you to crawl yourself into, you find yourself there pouring as much into your mind, forgetting about the world around you. The hours pass, darkness swarms around you, and it's only when you yawn, looking up, do you notice how late it is.

The wick of the candle beside you has whittled down, and you need to replace it, however, your hunger gnaws at your stomach, and you think about how late it is. You think about whether Messmer is around if he's gone to bed or not, so you tell yourself perhaps it would be best to try and find him.

Scurrying around the Keep, you find his chambers, only to be surprised to find two of his black knights standing guard outside the doors. You feel intimidated, asking if Messmer is around, only for one to answer you.

"I apologise, Lady Tarnished. His Lord is not seeing anyone at this moment."

"Ah." You say, and you're uncertain what to ask next: is he feeling unwell? Has he fallen ill? "Is he alright?"

"Yes, he's... occupied in seeing an audience."

"Alright. Would he be free for a meal?" You question.

"I'm afraid his Lord has already eaten."

Oh. What were you expecting? And where did this question come from? Your cheeks feel warm from embarrassment, and before you can feel further foolishness from it all, you turn on your heel. "Tell him I bind him goodnight then."

You don't wait for their answer, for you're scurrying towards where you believe are the kitchens, bursting through and alerting the staff that remain there. The chefs give you a careful glance before you ask if there's any leftover food. You're given a simple bowl of brown meats in a broth, and a slice of cheese with some bread, leaving you to take it with you as you scurry like a rat back up towards your chambers. By the time you reach your apartments, your chest feels as if it has a pit inside, and you're feeling rather uneasy.

Still feeling self-conscious, you nibbled at your meal until you could not eat any more. You pull the servant bell, calling upon your handmaidens to pour you a bath and to leave a glass of wine for you to have to quell your nerves. How foolish you feel, believing that this stark confidence and friendliness would be accepted by Messmer. He may have allowed your protection, but to believe he would be kind and amicable back?

Your skin feels flush and warmed to the bone when you step into your bath, leaning your head back as you try to relax. The wine you eye in your hand is almost empty as you reach towards the bottle they left for you, eyeing it carefully.

The words are strange, but your years of learning to dissect the language allowed you to realise the bottle had come from Leyndell. How it arrived in the Shadow realm was a mystery to you, but you slowly sipped it, thinking about how you could've remembered tasting it.

A/N: This chapter took so long to write. I've been exhausted from work that I've only been napping! I'm trying to break out of it, but it's been so tiring having no time to myself. Hopefully, things can change.

#messmer the impaler #messmer x reader #elden ring messmer #messmer x tarnished #tarnished! reader #part 10 #elden ring #shadow of the erdtree #elden ring dlc #elden ring fanfic #itstheendofthegoddamnworld writes #messmer fic

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elizais · 1 year ago

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when their s/o has a motorcycle!!

featuring: chuuya, osamu, atsushi x gn!reader!! warnings: ??

chuuya nakahara

-how could i NOT add him??????

-you two must race around the city, although he has to promise not to cheat with his ability.

-after a stressful day at work, probably just wandering around the city in the middle of the night on them is your joint fav activity.

-he loves when you just backpack him on his bike when you didn't take yours.

-probably get each other stuff 4 them 4 birthdays and stuff

-"my bike is cooler than urs!!" silly pretend arguments

-if ur in the pm and it gets destroyed on a mission or something and u come back devastated to him he not only gets revenge 4 u but also buys you whatever bike you want. even if you can pay for it yourself.

-wine collector AND bike collector

-if you have a colourful bike + helmet he will think its the cutest thing ever !!

-"chuuya you know how your bike is pink-" .. "it's red." discussions frequently. the colour wheel had to be brought out for one, there is still no winner on the debate of it.

osamu dazai

-thinks its the best thing ever.

-always wants to go for a ride with you.

-brags about how cool he is for having a s/o with a motorcycle

-"do i have to wear a helmet?" questions all the time. "do you have to come?" is the question that shuts him up.

-says he can ride a motorcycle from his mafia days, claims he knows everything about them. he can not and he does not.

-says chuuya would hold onto him as they chased after the enemy. do not believe it for a second.

-wants insists on a bright purple helmet.

-"how can we kiss if we have helmets on??"

-helmet bumps instead of kisses.

-tries to get truckers to honk when driving past them.

-tries to convince you to let him drive even though he has no experience.

atsushi nakajima

-admires it but is scared.

-secretly wants to go for a ride with you but is apprehensive to.

-when he asks you about going for a ride with you, you are over the moon but he needs some convincing still.

-"what if i fall off?" is met with "cats land on their feet, no?" which is greeted with an unimpressed atsushi.

-you don't push him to but you get him a helmet for when he does want to.

-he is always scared he is holding onto you too tight.

-if he is holding on too tight, maybe don't tell him. you can put up with a two mile heimlich, right?

-once he gets used to riding around, it is his favourite activity to do at night.

-you joke about getting him the cat ear helmets.

-he gives himself the title of number 1 backpack bf and in all honesty, he deserves it.

@cafekitsune 4 the divider!! pinterest 4 the photos @ the start sorry for not updating for so long, i need to make more drafts xoxo reqs are open !!!

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elioslover · 2 years ago

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Run-Ins- Harry Styles x reader

Premise: Harry decides to challenge a heatwave, If it weren't for a surprise run-in with an over-zealous puppy and its disgruntled owner, things would have been much worse.

Warnings: Sexy, sexc sweaty Harry. Gender neutral!

Word count: 3.2k || Other Writing

☀️

Skin sticking to shirts, the breeze carrying summer in full swing. It hadn't even reached ten am, and the weather was already swelting, only increasing by the minute. Harry had already tried to beat the heat, changing what was supposed to be an early afternoon run to one he was currently stepping out the front door to attend.

The rays of the sun had followed him since waking up, shining on him throughout the act of making coffee, blinding him from sitting on the porch and checking his phone for emails and notifications.

Harry didn't have a strict schedule for the day; the only thing he wanted to complete with certainty was his daily run. It was criminal enough that he had missed out on two opportunities last week and with the promise of a pure, stress-free fifty minutes, something that becomes increasingly sacred as more and more responsibility is piled onto his plate.

Without this one piece of his habit, he had zero routines to fall back on, and he felt stir-crazy at just the idea of sitting out his run for the sake of avoiding possible heatstroke.

Besides, the weather was still reasonable; he would just have to dress lighter and take extra care remembering to carry a bottle of water in case. Showering could wait until later- after all, he was unlikely to see or be seen by anybody.

So, with that, Harry rushed through his breakfast of a fruit salad, laced up his trusty sneakers, and grabbed a water bottle on his way out of the front door. He hadn't even taken a full step out into the summer sun when his skin was greeted with the feeling of opening an oven, steam sending a rush of heat straight to his face.

Without thinking, he walked back inside with determination, sifting through his suitcase for a pair of shorts even tinier and cooler than the ones he currently wore; his thighs were thankful, and so was his head once he threw an aged navy baseball cap on.

He was ready now, certain this run wouldn't get the best of him. His day would be tainted, and that was embarrassing enough for him to admit, so when he stepped out into the heat once more, he tried his best to ignore the way his temperature began increasing like a reptile, instead focusing on the route he was going to take.

The usual park he had frequented recently was quiet for the most part- trimmed neon green grass stretching as far as the eye could see, and on a few occasions when Harry had forgotten his earphones, the singing birds were a welcomed replacement- something he found himself humming along to.

But, his favourite part of this park was the little stream that started from the walkway and looped all the way to the end and back. If he was lucky, he might run past a duck with her gaggle of ducklings or pass by a couple having a cute picnic.

Five minutes into the run, Harry hasn't seen anything or anyone; he thinks he actually got lucky by choosing to run earlier than usual. This is as quiet as he has ever seen it, and with the wind on his back only blowing hot air around, he rids himself of the only item left holding him back. His flimsy black tee is off and strung lazily over his shoulder. His hands are empty, hat shielding a sunburn... why are his hands empty?

Harry suddenly pictures the forgotten bottle of water, sitting patiently on his side table, discarded when he had hastily decided to switch his shorts. The mere thought of water has him thirsty, and he looks forward to finishing this run more than usual.

Pushing his way up the incline of the dirt pathway, he promises himself a rewarding break once reaching the peak. But, with each step, his skin glistens sweat, heart thudding harder in his head, and he's slowing down for sure, forcing his muscles forward, ignoring the resistance created by the hill- certain he would be fine, just a little tired. Besides, it was good to be challenged- he needed to switch things up now and then.

Every muscle is asking him to stop, but he mistakes this for motivation and only presses on, relieved when the pathway shows an end in sight. Exerting the last he has to give, Harry looks down at his shoes, focused on putting one step in front of the other. His fists balled, arms flexed and pressed against his torso; Harry gives one final push before reaching the summit.

And when he does, it's a lot harder to catch his breath than expected; every part of him feels like it's beginning to float away, and his ears are ringing with desperation to gasp for air.

He tries to steady himself, folding over, his hands resting atop his hips- skin warm to the touch- bending forward in an attempt to better open his airways, but the need to sit down is only encouraged, and Harry has to concede.

He finds himself sitting now, his legs stretched out before him, wrapping his arms like a chain atop his bent knees, and with a bowed head, he works to regain breath control. The wind wisps through the long blades of glass, whistling in tune to the songs of little birds, and the stream is strong; he wishes he had the strength to make his way over, at least dip his feet in the cool water.

The sounds all blend into one sweet symphony, so relaxing that Harry almost feels himself starting to relax. But his tongue is like sandpaper sticking to his palate; with each suck-in, his body begs for water.

The only thing that could distract him- and does- is the sudden feeling of something rustling against his side, trying to make its way into the gap between his arms and lap. It has a wet nose and makes familiar snuffling noises that can only be attributed to that of a puppy dog.

Lazily lifting and tilting his head to see better, Harry is greeted by the enthusiasm and curiosity of a very cute and very excitable golden retriever- wearing a pretty pink bandana, big brown eyes smiling up at Harry as if he were heaven itself.

Turning all of his attention to the pup- who is trying desperately to climb up onto him- giving it a rough and thorough ear scratch.

"You're a friendly one, aren't you?" Harry chuckles, opening himself up to be further fussed over by his new friend.

"What's your name, huh?" Harry shifts and lets the dog continue sniffing him, reaching over to get ahold of its collar- a sparkly little disk covered in silver gems holds both a phone number and the name 'Beans'.

"Beans... Well, it's very nice to meet you, Beans." He smiles even wider as the pup reacts to its name, tail wagging, hopping all over him in the hopes of somehow getting even closer.

"Beans!” A voice called in the distance, quickly swept away by the breeze. Harry looked around, unable to spot anyone nearby, turning back to the pup currently occupied with trying to remove his baseball cap clean off of his head. He chuckled and scanned the area again, “I think someone’s looking for you, bud.”

“Beans!” The same voice sang, carrying over the hill straight to Harry’s heart. This time, Beans stops chewing and looks off in the direction of the searching song, and Harry follows suit, gaze settling just as the silhouette of someone starts to get closer. A harsh ray of sun forbids him from getting a good look at the person who is seemingly searching for his new companion.

“Is that your owner, Beans?” Harry asks, patting the pup with his free hand- the other working hard at helping shield the sun from blinding him further.

Beans' excitement only increases, tail wagging in all directions, eyes darting between Harry and the mystery person- still uncertain of whether to make a run for it or stay put. But, as the owner gets closer, amping up to call out for the cheeky dog once more, Harry is spotted sitting side-by-side with your dog.

And at the mere sight of you exiting the rays of sunshine, Beans is a jumble of jumping and excited barking. You release a relieved sigh, one you hadn’t known was trapped in your lungs, hyper-focused on the fact that you had lost control over your pup again. In fairness, what were you supposed to do? You had trusted her to stay, for just a second, whilst you fiddled with her matching collar and leash, but the promise of chasing an unsuspecting bird was just far too much for Beans to ignore.

You weren’t nearly fast enough to catch up to her- the whole point of walking with Beans was the promise of building better stamina, on your part- and once she was far enough ahead, you weren’t even sure which direction she had gone.

With dread, you followed your instincts up the hill, hoping she would have tired herself out by this point- she had done a splendid job of ensuring you were. What you hadn’t expected, hoped for, or even considered, was that someone might beat you to it. Seeing your naive little dog practically in the arms of some stranger was more than your nerves could handle today.

Legs starting to ache, you make your way over to the pair, thinking up some sort of jumbled-up apology for both your dog and the mere existence of yourself. But the man is smiling up at you- such a very pretty smile- and you almost lose all sensibility, startled as Beans hops up with vigour, bounding over and almost tripping you.

Harry starts to rise; the dull throbbing of his muscles is easily ignored as he gets a proper look at you. Beans is bouncing about, making it hard for you to walk much further, and the eagerness to meet you in the middle is what carries him your way.

He can see you perfectly now, and even though you’re mostly squinting, Harry likes how pretty your eyes look, being lit up by the sun. Trying to pacify your pup, hands patting at her, cooing to her to calm down, you do your best to examine Bean’s supposed new friend. His cheeks are so flushed that you feel warmer just looking at him, little droplets of sweat sneaking past his forehead, his skin glistening, muscles flexed. He’s very handsome, and you’re rather grateful for stumbling upon him, but he looks like he just completed a marathon, and with the way his chest rapidly rises and falls- shallow breaths evidently stopping him from cooling down- you actually feel concerned for his health.

Other than a discarded t-shirt, he seems to be empty-handed, and considering this may be the hottest day of the year, there’s no way he had chosen to go on a run without at least a little bit of water… right? He doesn’t seem to be too bothered because he’s still smiling at you with a fondness that you just know is a result of spending time with your dog.

Harry is still dying inside, an irritating sharpness at the back of his throat following each breath he dared to take, but long ago decided he could put up with it a little longer. After all, Beans is still circling his ankles, and you seem far too pretty to just give a greeting and a goodbye. Your own cheeks are slightly flushed, and Harry wonders if it’s from working up a sweat or simply shyness.

It happens to be both, with a hefty sprinkle of embarrassment and a dollop of regret for even leaving the house this morning.

Beans running off, you could deal with. Having to make it seem like you weren’t, in fact, a moron of an owner- who on many occasions could be seen chasing after their pet- was a damn nightmare.

The quicker you said it, the closer you would be to putting this mess of a morning behind you. He’s just so pretty, though… and you’re thankful that he doesn’t seem to be the type to reprimand someone over a trivial mistake. So, with a much-needed inhale, the formalities begin,

“I’m so sorry about my dog-”

“Please, don’t apologise-”

“I swear, I’m usually a better owner than this.” You try reasoning, but it’s only for your own sake.

“I’ve seen much worse, honest.” Harry smiles reassuringly, the corners of his eyes scrunching cutely as he crouches down to give Beans another rough petting,

“Besides, I got to make a new friend.” He beams up at you, “I’m quite fond of her already.”

“She majored in likeability.” You add with a playful eye roll.

He smiles at that, turning his attention back to Beans, scratching her belly as she rolls over sillily, moving side-to-side to ensure Harry gave her the best belly rub ever.

“I like you very much, Beans.” He beamed down at her fondly,

“Yes, I do. Yes, I do.” Beans loves all of the dotings, her tongue wagging in tune with her tail. Harry continues,

“I love your silly brown eyes and your goofy smile, and I especially like your bandana.” He admires, glancing up at you.

“She picked it out herself.” You inform proudly.

"Oh, is that right?" His gaze shifts between you and Beans, smiling fondly at the situation he has found himself in,

"You're a good girl, aren't you?" He hums, and you scold yourself for the way your thoughts turn filthy, stomach clenching at his praises.

Harry finds his feet once more, towering over you with ease. And, you can't even begin to ignore the sight before you- a practically naked man, desperately trying to cool down and enamoured with your dog. Every part of him is on full display; his chest still glistening, his tattoos shimmering in the sunlight, abs flexing and contracting on impulse.

He suddenly understands the utterly distracted gaze swallowing your features, finally sane enough to remember the lack of clothing he donned- how damp and frazzled he must appear. If possible, his cheeks are turning even pinker, all calmness replaced with the same heat he had worked so hard to dispel.

When Harry can't help but take a sharp inhale, you have enough reason to stop gawking at him and instead assist him in regaining his strength. Reaching into the tote bag currently slung over your shoulder, it takes only a second to retrieve what you were searching for, pulling out a mostly-full water bottle.

The bottle itself looks custom-made; probably something you had stumbled upon in a store, deciding it was too cute and camp to pass up on. Decorated in bright pink and pastel blue, two My Little Ponies prancing on either side.

You extend the bottle his way, and Harry looks at you curiously, taking a moment before registering what you're trying to offer.

He feels bashful, but the mere presence of water makes it impossible to ignore the burning in his throat. So, he sheepishly accepts, his fingers brushing over your own. The water feels like a miracle as he welcomes it, and Harry thinks you might be a saviour disguised as a very pretty, very kind dog owner. When your face morphs into one of relief, the shame he felt is long gone.

After a hefty sip, you're tempted to reach out and wipe the small droplet that slips down his lip, and when Harry attempts to return your gift, you only shake your head in dismissal, getting ready to argue over the ownership of the bottle,

"Keep it." You insist, "You need it more than me."

"I couldn't-" He tries.

"You must."

Harry prepares to protest, but he can feel your sternness swallowing the space between you two, threatening to double down if he even tries. Instead, he accepts defeat, secretly grateful for your gesture,

"That's very kind of you." He commends, totally enamoured and already praying for a second meeting with yours truly.

"It's nothing, promise." You smile shyly.

Harry wants to use this opportunity to at least ask your name- this may be the oddest meet-cute he's had so far- but his mind is a scramble for what to say next, and by the time he manages to string words together, you cough awkwardly,

"Thanks again for taking care of Beans... And sorry again." You glance down at your feet bashfully, and Harry chuckles at your soft shyness,

"It's not a problem, promise." He reassures playfully, enjoying the way your eyes crinkled with a matching smile,

"If anything, I owe you."

You hope to god you're not blushing, and when you glance down at his hands, you almost lose all sanity watching the way the water bottle looks so small in his hand, thinking that they may be the perfect size to wrap around....

Thankfully, Beans barks enthusiastically, and you manage to pull it together enough to remember that home awaits; your body aching to kick its feet up on the couch, pour some fresh fruit juice, and perhaps take a well-deserved nap.

"Well, good luck with the rest of your...run?" You confirm, and Harry chuckles heartily,

"I'll give it my best shot." He promises before crouching down to address your puppy once more,

"Thank you for keeping me company, Miss Beans, be a good girl for...?"

"Y/n."

"For, Y/n." He nods avidly, enjoying the way it rolls off of his tongue, smiling up at you sweetly. Beans lends him one last lick before retreating to your side, ready to follow you to the ends of the earth.

"C'mon, Beanie baby." You nod at Harry in final departure, a shy smile still swallowing your lips as you turn on your heels and leave.

Harry stays put, watching as you slip further away, ready to descend this monstrous hill, excited puppy in tow. Glancing down at the bottle still clutched in his palm, he feels his heart racing- but this time, there was no physical exertion required.

He wonders if he might get the opportunity to return your gift- to see you in general.

But, what Harry does know with certainty is; Almost passing out from heatstroke can have its perks, after all.

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descendant-of-truth · 1 month ago

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I think the reputation Kingdom Hearts has is a prime example of something I've been thinking about recently, which is: if you go into a piece of media without taking it seriously from the get-go, any of its attempts to be serious will come across as funny.

Let's be real, KH is viewed by the general public as a bit silly, right? Like, you're telling me there's an RPG series where you play as an anime boy but your party members are Goofy and Donald Freakin' Duck? And it's filled with complicated plotlines about clones and hearts and time travel?

The crux of what makes people not take the game seriously is the fact that it's a Disney game that wants to be taken seriously. Those two things combined instinctively make people want to laugh at it; after all, Disney is just kids' stuff, it's not meant to be taken that seriously. Even if you're a fan of Disney, it's so inherently different from something like Final Fantasy that the tonal clash alone creates a certain expectation.

That expectation being: this is going to be stupid, and funny because it's stupid. The same level of joke as making cute characters swear or use guns, I think.

Kingdom Hearts is, of course, a lot more sincere than that. But if you're not willing to meet it halfway, then its sincerity becomes the joke.

Of course, even KH fans like to laugh at how the dialogue reads when it's taken out of context, which takes me to something I've actually wanted to talk about for a bit:

Data Sora: Mickey! It's Riku. They put bugs in him!

Make no mistake, I'm not saying people are wrong to joke about stuff like this. But the whiplash I felt at seeing this moment become a meme was kind of insane, because it genuinely never struck me as a funny thing to hear Sora say.

Using the term "bug" to refer to a computer bug felt completely natural, and it's a much more tangible term than "glitch" which brings to mind more like, environmental or physics-based glitches. Similar deal with the word "virus," even if that would've sounded cooler.

But either way, by this point in the story, they've been talking about bugs with complete seriousness for over an hour. They've been a corrupting force that you have to fight the whole game, and when Data Riku is injected with the stuff, he screams before freezing up and staring dead-eyed into space, as shown in that screenshot.

That's freaky! And a really scary thing for Sora to have to see happen to his best friend!

So him telling Mickey what happened in a panicked voice didn't even register as a line to take special note of, because why would it? What else was he supposed to say? I was way too invested and stressed out to care about what it would sound like out of context; I was IN the context! And the context had me on the edge of my seat!

This is the case with a lot of lines in this series that get paraded around as evidence that the writing in KH is sooo chaotic, so silly, so embarrassing, so cringe. I'm not saying that every line of dialogue comes across as totally natural, the series is capable of taking me out of the experience because of something being stilted or awkward. But rarely ever when it's trying to be sincere or dramatic.

Replica Riku: Because I'm you. Riku: No, I'M me. Replica Riku: "I'm me," he says.

This is another example. When I actually sit back and watch just that first bit of the cutscene, yeah, it sounds a little ridiculous. The back-and-forth happening here is just redundant enough to follow the "rule of threes" to comedy, so I get why people get a good chuckle out of it when it's isolated to just this.

It did not feel ridiculous after watching the series of harrowing events Replica Riku goes through before getting to that point. It certainly stops being ridiculous when he follows it up with this speech:

Replica Riku: Must be nice being real. A fake like me could never get away with saying that. That's right, I'm a phony, a fake! The way I look, the way I feel, everything I remember! And even this newfound power! I thought by finding some new strength, I could finally be someone - someone who's not at all you! But... nothing changes... I'm still just empty! Everything about me is borrowed. As long as you're around, I'll never be more than a shadow!

I bring this up to segue into another point: even KH's fans have a hard time moving past their perceptions of what it should be as a Respectable Video Game. Particularly whenever it does something that's just a little too weird, or lame, for the average mainstream.

Something like, oh I dunno... putting relevant story content on handhelds?

While this wasn't intentional, both of the examples I've used so far have come from games that were originally made for the Nintendo DS and GBA respectively. I just used screenshots from their Playstation versions because I like how their body language is animated in them.

(I also wasn't intending to make both examples about Riku, it just kind of happened)

But anyway, handheld games are also something that's generally considered to be "less legitimate" than their console counterparts. This isn't to say that handheld gaming isn't extremely popular in its own right, because it is! Series that stick to handhelds, like Pokemon, are loved for their portability.

But outside of some exceptions like Fire Emblem, if a series has games on both types of systems, the handheld ones will always be considered "less mainline" by default, regardless of what's actually in them. For an example of this, I would point to the Zelda series, and how little its handheld titles are talked about compared to its console releases. Furthermore, the Link's Awakening remake (while technically on a handheld-console hybrid) decided to ditch the pixel art in favor of going full 3D, which showcases a slightly different but related stigma.

So what happens when Kingdom Hearts, a game that debuted in 3D on a home console, starts putting the majority of its story onto handhelds?

Well, a massive chunk of the fanbase starts calling them "spinoffs," of course! Even though the ratio of console releases to handheld ones literally looks like this:

(That's a 6:8 ratio, for reference, counting KH4 and Missing Link which haven't been released yet. It's even more slanted in the handheld's favor when you consider the short length of 0.2 and especially Melody of Memory in terms of story content)

And now we still have people talking about how we waited 13+ years for KH3 after KH2, as if nothing really important happened in between those two games, or as if a game arbitrarily having a number 3 on it is going to make it more important than everything else. And this is said by people who DO CARE about the games that were released during that time! What is happening!!

People loooove to act like you can skip over games like Coded or Union Cross and they especially love to complain that a series like this would even consider putting story content on a phone. And in such a cute art style?? A cute 2D art style??? How in the wORLD am I supposed to take something sEriOUsLY when it's on... the most accessible gaming device out there??? For free?????

(I'm willing to bet that some people will be slightly more inclined to play Missing Link because it's in 3D, but most are definitely going to just be asking "why isn't this on consoles" as if the story isn't intertwined with the gameplay format they chose at all)

And so we run into the same problem as the people who haven't even played the games: dismissing something as not really worth investing their time into based on surface-level judgements. Because even if you're down with KH's brand of storytelling, there are other barriers you could have to the series that it will repeatedly ask you to lower, and you might not be willing to.

Kingdom Hearts is a series that demands you get over your biases about what counts as real art to be taken seriously, or it WILL leave you behind in the narrative. Don't want to play a phone game? Don't want to even look up the story on YouTube? Too bad, it's required reading for the next ~Numbered Title~ that you respect so much. Good luck being confused the whole time.

Don't want to play a DS game? And you won't even watch the condensed movie version that we put in our Respectable Console Collection? Okay, but don't come crying to us when its recurring narrative themes seem like they came out of nowhere later on.

This is a series that does not have spinoffs, and trying to explain that to someone who hasn't played it makes it sound absurd. "The mobile games are important?" a non-fan asks, laughing at the concept. "Yeah, it's pretty stupid," the fan responds with a laugh of their own, because even after everything, how can they really engage with this story on its own terms when it makes such silly decisions? When it has such cringey titles? When it's so embarrassing to like?

I think I might've strayed a bit from the initial thesis statement of this post, but my point is that Kingdom Hearts exposes a lot of elitism in people regarding games and art. It pushes the limits of what it can expect its audience to take seriously, delivering purposeful, engaging storytelling no matter if it's 2D or 3D, a Triple-A Video Game on your Playstation console or a free-to-play phone game. Which makes it pretty darn neat, I'd say.

And also sometimes I get thrown off by what becomes a meme, because I get so invested in the story that I forget things can be funny out of context

#kingdom hearts #analysis #meta #KH is like. 'I am cringe but I am free' incarnate #You CANNOT be weighed down by how cringey the series can seem if you have any hope of engaging with it properly #Which is something I'd say is true of like... most things honestly #Including life itself since we're already getting deep about it #But for the purpose of this post we're focusing on how it applies to KH

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pasta-in-the-pudding · 1 year ago

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SO I JUST THOUGHT OF THIS IM SORRY IF IRS REALLY RANDOM BUT IF ITS OK COULD I REQUEST TICCI TOBY,MASKY,HOODIE,EJ WITH A TEEN!READER like Darwin from the amazing world of gumball

Darwin is such a silly guy omg <33

Thank you so much for requesting!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Toby

Honestly he's just glad you aren't as scary as some of the other children in the manor

Most, if not all of the children that live in the manor are there because there was quite literally no other choice for them

They come from such bad homes with such bad caretakers, it's not shocking that most of them have learned to protect themselves by any means necessary

So while Toby understands, holy shit do they scare him <//3

So seeing a kid that is allowed to still just be a kid makes him happy

He finds you quite fun to be around

He loves hearing you get excited with the things you're passionate about

And he loves how silly you can be!

You are one of the easiest kids to talk to, so he uses you for intel on the other children for things such as gifts for the holidays

He's also thankful that you are so truthful and don't like breaking the rules

It really helps lower the stress levels in the house

Masky

You're a good kid

That's about the extent of his opinion on you

He likes that you're a goody two-shoes, because it makes his job as the "secondary dad" of the manor waaay easier

First dad being slender

"Alright, which one of you spilled water on the carpet" tim asks, eying the two children sitting in front of him

"Im sorry! It was me, i didn't mean it, i swear it was i mistake!" You blurt out fearfully, hoping to not get in trouble

"Woah, relax kid, it's just water. We can clean it up easily"

He's also glad that you're one less kid he'll have to worry about sneaking out, running away, or getting in general trouble

Other than that, you guys don't really have a relationship

You might talk from time to time, and he'll be there for fatherly support and comfort

But that's about it

Hoodie

He's not exactly the greatest with kids

He doesn't dislike them, but he isn't really a kid guy

He can handle teens though, and with you being such an easy kid to handle, you manage to make his good list

If he sees you around, he'll wave, he'll get you things that remind him of you, and he's generally just more tolerant of you

Like if any of the other kids asked him to make them breakfast, he'd probably be like "oooh i actually juuuust started cleaning up sorry"

But if you or sally asked him to he'd be like "omg of course, you little angels 🥰"

Like tim, you won't really have a relationship outside of him just being more tolerant of you

He's considered the cooler uncle, and sometimes a big brother amongst the kids so he won't be able to provide the fatherly comfort that Tim does

But he CAN provide some brotherly shoulder pats or cool uncle McDonald's

And maybe, just maaaaaybe a hug every now and then

Eyeless Jack

Ej finds children quite bothersome

They get in the way of his work, they are noisy and they are messy

Three things he will not tolerate

But he was very pleasantly surprised with you

He doesn't mind teenagers as much, as they are much less noisy and messy than younger children, but he does have his issues with teenagers as well

But while you are sitting on his medical bed, waiting for a bandaid for your cut arm, you are actually very pleasent to be around

You came in in a bit of a panic, fearing your arm might be permanently damaged, but you were able to calm down as Ej took the time to explain that you were ok, as well as walking you through everything he was doing

You were very nice and quiet, and quite polite actually

You are a good kid in Ej's books

When he sees you around the manor, he makes a point to show at least some sort of sign of polite recognition to you, instead of just walking past with a blank expression

Whether it be a small smile, a nod, or a wave, just something to let you know that he thinks you are ok

Espcially with how anxious you seem to get, he knows that it will likely help you to know he doesn't hate you

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i-yap · 8 months ago

Note

Hi! You mentioned in a prev oneshot that you were Indian, as a fellow south asian it is so nice to have someone into the fandom as well !!! May I have a request if batboys with an south asian so who does Indian classical dance like bharatnatyam or odissi please?

Heyyy I have never professionally learned classical Indian dances but I love watching them so ill try my best. Im sorry if its offensive, Im doing fem reader cuz gn wasn't requested..hope that okay too

Batboys x Dancer!Y/N

Dick grayson

He loved the story the dances depicted. He learned all the meanings and history behind all the hand movements and music.

Dick had probably been to India for a mission so he does know a little about indian history but now he has a much stronger motivation to learn everything and anything about that culture .

Also we all know dick has a thing for strong powerful women. And Bharatnatyam or Odssi or any indian classical dance for that matter REQUIRES SO MUCH STRENGTH . The facial expressions, the precise movement and the beauty of it all..he is whipped.

'He also loves when you get in touch with your culture. Dick is like a culture connoisseur and having a beautiful south asian girlfriend who is proud and expressive of her heritage makes him so proud.

He for sure has videos on videos which he show or boast about to anyone- even at galas , his favorite thing to talk about you and he is just so proud.

Jason Todd

I dont think todd will take the time to look into the difference meanings or stories these dances depict.

I have mentioned how much he stares and now he has a new found excuse to stress. Its like those movie montages of the wife through the husbands eyes where there is like a light glow behind her and he is just laughing (and then she dies or something)- idk if you know what I'm talking about but that exact thing happens with him.

you are like his salvation , so beautiful, golden poised and graceful. Its like a beggar seeing a goddess , a murderer on the steps of church or a ray of sunshine in the cold cold dark city - it becomes his way to spirituality.

He doesn't talk that much about it. the whole experience feels too surreal for him and he loves to see that side of you. when your practicing and don't have the routine perfected, he loves seeing the side of you no one else would get to see.

Tim drake-

This boy probably went to the ballet as a kid and I mean western rich parents-gotham city- I don't think he knows anything about indian classical dance so when he sees it for the first time he is shocked

He Is so intrigued , It just makes you so much cooler. He will love dropping in the middle of his patrols to watch you train and bring you snacks

He also loves doing your makeup for you , and the whole outfit....it looks super complicated and he is good with assembling stuff so he'll be really into it.

He would tbh encourage you to use your skill to start and internet channel and use that to promote movements. Also if you are into the idea of teaching immigrant kids on how to dance, he'll help find the means because being connected to your roots are just so important.

Rather than boring ass ballet in galas , he will promote other styles of dance especially indian classical.

Will cheer like a madman after your performances , even if they are at rich gotham galas. "WOHOO THATS MY GIRL THATS REAL ART YOU SEE THAT YOU RICH PRICKS"

Yea just because you have this super serious super cool skill doesn't mean you both wont be sitting in a dinner eating greasy food in the whole costume+makeup after performances. Youre still teenage dirtbags after all

Damian wayne-

he will draw you . loves sitting and sketching you dance .

He too is really into strong women and appreciates the beauty and precise art of indian dance.

Itll remind him of his home, like up in the mountains. Maybe dance is taught as a way of developing balance and precision. So to him you look like a strong fighter.

It just brings nostalgia and you look so ethereal while you dance. I think out of all batboys he would be most appreciative of the art

these are comparatively shorter but i didnt have too many thoughts. hope its okay tho

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liquidstar · 10 months ago

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SEASON 3 TRAILER DROPPED HERES MY THOUGHTS (LN spoilers)

BROTHER AND SISTER OF ALL TIME THEYRE SO CUTE <3 love seeing how their relationship has progressed from beako literally throwing him out a window for stuff like this to her happily playing along its so so so so so cute. genuinely just one of the cutest and sweetest dynamics in the series

hi ram roswaal and fred :) this is probably all we're going to really see of you guys this arc lol

JOSHUA REAL!!!!! but not for long (also otto in the bg foreshadowing all the drinking hes about to do this arc. hes so stressed. poor emilia is trying her best)

julius looks so babyfaced here? they really emphasized his long eyelashes just like subaru has been on about every time he mentions him. they better include the scene where he checks him out, like, if they dont animate subaru looking dead at this mans ass im going to riot

i LOVE this shot of ana. you can really tell shes up to some corrupt capitalist bullshit as we speak. love her for that. wish i had this pic when i made that one money game anastasia video

the red dress actually does look really good on crusch like it compliments the green hair really well but also the crusch we know would not walk around in such a thing so its like. damn looks like the "memories are an important part of identity" story thinks memories are an important part of identity. who knew.

ALSO LOVE FELTS NEW LOOK SO MUCH! the only complaint is i felt (felt lol) like the red brought out her eyes more but the blue also looks cool. three primary colors all being used looks nice too

whatever who cares about all that THE CUNT!!!!!!! THE CUNT IS HERE!!! I CANNOT WAIT FOR ALL THE DRAMA SHE CAUSES TO BE ANIMATED FOR REAL

no fucking way... did they actually...

THEY DID! THEY CENSORED THAT HORRIBLE FUCKING DESIGN OH MY GOD. SHES WEARING SHORTS AND JUST A CROPPED SHIRT. AND CHAPS I GUESS? BUT ALSO A LITTLE SKIRT CAPE SO NO ASS SHOTS... THIS WILL MAKE WATCHING THE SEASON SO MUCH MORE TOLERABLE. i mean not perfect but STILL.

photos taken seconds before disaster lmfao. i still love how chin thinks subaru is a freak and weirdo for being so buddy buddy with him after he and his buddies mugged him. twice. (even more times from subarus perspective. hell he stabbed subaru once) genuinely cant wait to see more of this dynamic its so stupid.

THE FUCKING CUNT!!!!!! also the apples lol

oh you poor thing. you have no idea what next level family drama bullshit awaits. good luck. get ready to kill grandma AGIAN lol

:'( emilia still misses her terrible cat dad and its kinda sad when you know were not getting a resolution on that here either. they both look so sad :(

i cannot wait for garf mommy issues round fucking 2.

THIS CRAZY BITCH!!! I CANNOT WAIT TO SEE THIS CRAZY BITCH ANIMATED. I CANT WAIT TO SEE HOW THEYRE PORTRAY HER MANNERISMS. ESP W HOW WILD PETELGEUSE WAS ANIMATED IN S1. REAL LOONY TOONS BULLSHIT. AND HER POWERS ARE ALSO SOOOOOO MUCH COOLER I CANT WAIT

NO MORE DRESSES FOR CRUSCH YAY

he fucking bit it. yeah i guess thats what dogs do tho.

YOU. DIVORCE MAN. KILL YOURSELF. SLASH SERIOUS.

the empathy powers will have a glowing eye effect. very cool but i hope they dont show it too much in the first scene bc like in the LN i think its cooler if you dont know why everything is so... Wrong.

i dont rly have anything to say i just think ferris looks cool covered in blood. imagine being healed here like doctor catgirl will see you now

emilia be nice. that crazy bitch might be your mom. just like how the previous crazy bitch was in fact your dad.

THEY CHANGED UP CAPELLA'S DESIGN TOO honestly tho her being sexualized makes sense w a lot of the themes (the way its intentionally meant to be perverse and gross in a way explicitly stated) so i didnt mind as much and she still IS here but. this is still an improvement imo just a better outfit looks cooler. bug.

NAUR I DONT WANNA WAIT... OCTOBER.... AUGH

#re:zero #very excited even the things that i was the most unexcited abt and made me wary to watch have been fixed a bit yippeeee

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attractive-nuisance-esq · 1 year ago

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Ed’s journey this season is going to perfectly mirror addiction and recovery, and I am so fucking here for it. Watching these first three episodes of S2 was like watching a highly dramatized AU of my own descent into rock bottom (except everyone was dressed wayyyyyy cooler than I ever was), so I have a lot of thoughts, reactions, and insights that I want to share with other fans. I’m sure many of us who have struggled with our mental health connected with Ed in these episodes, but I think addiction is the most appropriate lens through which to view him because addicts (more often than people who struggle with other mental illnesses) so wholly destroy their own lives and utterly devastate those of their loved ones. I want to share - from the perspective of someone who has steered her own ship straight into a storm and woke up alone to face some very hard choices - what is going on with Ed at the start of this season and what I think is coming.

Let me start by saying that Ed isn’t literally addicted to any one thing, despite his heavy use of drugs and alcohol, but his goal is the same as that of all addicts: escape. He does not want to sit with the pain of Stede leaving him on an immediate, surface level; on a deeper, more habitual level, he doesn’t want to sit with the pain of his own self-loathing. Of course the two are related: the former brings the latter to a head. Stede abandoning him dredges up and brightly illuminates all of his insecurities, and now Ed has to run. Get out. Escape. Don’t think about it. So he is fighting, stealing, drinking, snorting, shooting, killing - whatever it takes to not think about it.

“Demon? I’m the fuckin’ devil.” People in recovery often talk about addiction as if it were a separate, sentient monster living within them. Ed taking on the mantle of demon - a creature known specifically for possession, for removing the host’s free will - is intentional. So is his insistence that he’s not just any demon but the demon. The worst there is. (More on that when we get to The Innkeeper.)

Izzy’s confrontation of Ed in the captain’s cabin and then on deck is a form of intervention. Izzy is trying to help Ed, but of course this goes terribly for him and for Ed because interventions (I cannot stress this enough) are maybe the worst thing you could do to an addict. All addicts know things are bad, but they cannot be pushed to change one single second before they’re ready. Ed knows things are bad. He’s well-aware of how he’s spending his time, how his crew feels about him, how disappointed Izzy is. Being confronted with all of those truths by Izzy was always only going to make him do two things: 1) dig further into his unhealthy coping mechanisms, never mind that they don’t have nearly the effect that they used to; and 2) lash out at the person who forced him to think about it. Izzy lost his leg the moment he stepped into Ed’s cabin.

The impossible bird. You guys remember the song Chandelier by Sia? The one about her addiction to alcohol? The whole thing may as well come right out of Ed’s mouth at the end of that first episode, because that experience is exactly what he’s trying to convey to Frenchie. Nevermind that Frenchie has the temerity to tell him the bird can’t exist, that it has to come down sometime, that flying forever isn’t sustainable. The bird can come down on its own terms, or crash… but Frenchie’s definitely not going to say that much. Still, “that sounds like something that can’t exist” hits Ed, and leads us to the next episode.

Now we’ve got Ed forlorn, heartbroken, almost catatonic while playing with his cake toppers. We don’t actually see him crying in the opening of the episode, which is the point. He’s done crying now. The impossible bird can’t exist, and Ed has already resigned himself to this. He’s decided to die. The only sure-fire permanent way to not think about it.

When next we see Ed, he seems to be doing better, but this is a huge red flag for anyone who knows to look. He’s giving away his responsibility to Frenchie; he’s cleaning the cabin for the closure. He knows the end is coming fast, and the relief that knowledge brings him leaves him weirdly at peace. It is he eeriest part of these episodes, IMO.

Then he goes to find his first mate, the person who knows him better than anyone else in the world, the man he just fucking shot and ordered killed. Ed needs his low opinion of himself validated, and of course he thinks he’ll get it from Izzy after everything he’s done to him. He wants the one person who has stuck with him through everything to confirm that he’s now irretrievably broken and no longer worthy of his love. Ed wants someone to tell him that he’s right: he should die.

He doesn’t get that from Izzy. Interestingly, Izzy doesn’t tell him he should die. He says “Clean up your own mess.” Izzy has learned the lesson now that Ed isn’t ready to get better and that he can’t make him be ready. (This post isn’t about Izzy, but hoo boy - I have big feels about that man.)

Ed has been indulging in various forms of self-destruction in order to not feel his feelings, and steering the ship into the storm is his worst indulgence yet. This is the worst of his crimes - not beheading or arson or a red wedding. It’s when he tries to bring down everyone who has ever loved him into his misery, into believing what he believes. The audience generally (and Ed’s audience of Stede specifically) can forgive him for hurting strangers and for the non-specific mayhem whose victims we’ve never met; but it is much less certain that anyone will forgive him for hurting the only family he’s ever known.

The storm itself is the perfect metaphor for Ed’s attempt on his and, incidentally, everyone else’s lives. One of the most common metaphors used by friends and family members of addicts is that of a hurricane: that their addicted loved-ones tend to destroy everything they touch, anyone who was foolish or brave enough to stick around. And, like hurricanes, addicts aren’t malicious. Ed’s primary goal here is to get himself killed, not to kill everyone else. He wants the ship to go down so his death is certain. His firing a cannonball into the mast and asking Jim and Archie to fight to the death isn’t malice: it’s utter and complete nihilism. Nothing matters anymore. Nothing and no one. The end is near, and he’s so fucking drunk and high off these distractions that he couldn’t think about it if he tried. He’s manic with relief. (See also: “Finally.”)

And now for the finale: Purgatory. Buckle up, because this is where the addiction analogy gets real *chef’s kiss.* Purgatory is the equivalent of the morning after the worst, most rock bottom binge night of your life. You wake up with no one for company but the ghosts of your former selves. Now what?

Well, first - who is Hornigold to Ed? Why is he the guy Ed sees? It’s because Hornigold is another addict, if you will, but one who is (in this Purgatory hallucination) farther along in his recovery. He can impart some wisdom from that place, but he can also stand in as someone Ed can loathe because they’re not as different as Ed once thought, even if Hornigold can say he’s grown.

Hornigold tries to give him soup. He tells Ed, “Gotta get these nutrients into you,” and then literally shoves soup down his throat. That’s what it’s like in rock bottom. You don’t want to take care of yourself, but some lizard brain survival instinct takes over and makes you drink water, eat a piece of fruit, take yourself to the hospital. These things don’t really happen voluntarily that morning after, but you can still count on that instinct to kick in with some damage control.

Ed telling Hornigold how he “got here.” Hornigold says “Mutiny. It’s always mutiny.” Ed insists his mutiny was special, worse somehow. This whole scene is exactly what happens in your first recovery support group meeting. You go in thinking no one has ever been as fucked and fucked up as you are, which makes you feel isolated and alone. But then you get there and everyone else in the circle has done the same shit, been through the same shit. Ed’s not actually the devil; he’s just another demon, like many demons before him.

Ed worries he’s insane when he reflects on everything he’s done. Hornigold’s reply that “Feeling bad isn’t going to rebuild an abdominal wall” is a concept that people usually learn a little bit later in recovery, so I expect we’ll see more on this theme from Ed. Guilt is a useless emotion that only serves to conversely make the addict feel better but doesn’t help the harmed party: the addict feels like their suffering is cleansing, but it’s not - feeling guilt is just more self-indulgence, more self-destruction. Hornigold - a fellow addict in this moment - is trying to get this lesson to him early. It’ll return.

“You’ve got to move on or blow your brains out.” We’re getting back to Purgatory as the metaphor for the morning-after rock bottom, because this is the exact calculation that every person in recovery has done. They all had to answer that one big question. Your whole life is a mess, and you made the mess. Do you want to clean it up? Or quit? (Or make some soup? Yeah. That big question can’t be answered without basic needs having been met. So let’s eat. Let’s start there. It’s easier.)

Now we have Ed’s fantasy about opening an inn: This is also a common part of the morning-after rock bottom. You start thinking about the wrong turns you took, the mistakes you made, the way your life was supposed to go and all the reasons you’re not where you wanted to be. (And all the people you can blame for the fact that your life didn’t go as planned.) And when that honest part of yourself starts telling you that actually it’s all your fault… well, a) you don’t wanna hear it, and b) you can’t silence (kill) that monster, no matter how hard you try. You’ve got to face it. Face all those truths you’ve been running from for years. Now you have to think about it.

So now the big question, the inevitable math. Hornigold suggests looking at the pros and the cons. That’s the easiest way to break the calculation into manageable variables. This is probably my favorite moment of the episode, because when you’re sitting there, morning after the worst night of your life, everything is fucked - these are the exact variables that go into your equation. Do I really want to live? You ask yourself that, and because your life is in fucking shambles, you come up with the stupidest goddamn reasons to keep going. You wanna see the next seasons of Good Omens and Loki. You wanna eat your mom’s spaghetti again. Sometimes it’s nice when someone hugs you. It’s never the big things that save your life; it’s a bunch of the littlest things. The smallest comforts. The big things… they’re too unattainable. They’re too much to hope for, and they’re more than you could possibly deserve. What are the pros of living for Ed? Warmth, good food, orgasms. This is a stunningly accurate representation of the things that will keep you alive once you’ve hit rock bottom.

And then the cons: “I don’t think anyone is waiting for me.” This is why addiction is the better metaphor. There is no human experience more isolating than addiction. You are alone in more ways than you’ve ever been before. You have pushed away or pissed off everyone who ever cared about you. And even the ones who will maybe still be there for you - they can’t help you clean up the mess you’ve made. You have to do the work alone, even if they’re still willing to stand next to you. And this con… it’s the scariest one. Your list of little pros looks so pathetic next to the horror of being utterly fucking alone. Who is going to brave that for some stupid shit like Tom Hiddleston sexily flipping his hair back in that Loki way he does? Why should Ed carry on just because blankets are cozy and marmalade is pleasant?

This is where we get to the moment on the mountain, and what Stede represents. Hornigold tells Ed “You’re unlovable, and you’re afraid to do anything about it.” Ed could do two things about being unlovable: He could try to fix it, or he could end it all. Hornigold represents the worst part of Ed: his weaknesses and cowardice. And if Hornigold is in the driver’s seat, he’s going to end it all. He throws the rock off the cliff, and Ed gets dragged down into the water to drown. (Let’s also talk later about how often addiction is compared to drowning, and how nothing else in the show actually threatened Ed’s life - not Izzy with a gun, not all the rhino horn, not Jim’s cannonball - like drowning in his own mind.)

But then there’s Stede. Stede is how the pros win over that one big, horrifying con. Stede is hope. Stede is just a glimmer of hope. Hope is the most important thing you need in the morning-after rock bottom. As much as I enjoy the idea that it was love that saved Ed, I don’t think that’s a wholly faithful interpretation. Because Stede’s love for Ed doesn’t solve anything, doesn’t fix anything - it certainly doesn’t fix Ed. It cannot fix Ed. Hornigold just told Ed that he’s the one who has to “do something about it,” because Ed is the only one who can save himself. But even if Stede’s love for him in itself isn’t what saves Ed, Ed’s trust in Stede combined with that love gives him hope. Stede loves Ed, truly loves him, came back to him even though he knows Ed’s nature, knows his list of crimes, knows what he’s done to Stede’s friends and family. And maybe Ed can find in himself what he trusts Stede truly sees. It’s a “maybe,” not a certainty. But it’s hope. Someone loves him. Maybe he can love himself, too.

This Woman’s Work: I read this song as referring more appropriately to Ed’s relationship with himself, in no small part because Ed literally made himself the woman in the cake topper couple. All the things that should have been done, should have been said - they’re things Ed needs to do and say to himself. He’s got a little life and a lot of strength left. The journey has just begun.

I want to pop back quickly to a few other moments in The Innkeeper that resonated, starting with Stede and Izzy’s discussion about what happened to Ed: “He went mad. He was a wild dog.” Izzy describes Ed’s breakdown as if he was no longer the same person he once was; this is exactly what addiction does to a person. Ed hasn’t been himself; he’s been held hostage by his need for escape, and he’s become something else. Possessed, if you will.

Izzy: “You and me did this to him, and we can’t let the crew suffer any more for our mistakes.” I’m not writing an essay on Izzy (yet), but this is a very interesting perspective that says a lot about Izzy. Stede and Izzy both owe apologies to Ed, but they are not responsible for his actions. I predict we’re going to see this theme explored in later episodes as a part of Ed’s healing process and recovery. And also hopefully in Izzy’s growth.

Frenchie’s line that “We’ve been living second-to-second for a while now” is a callback to the impossible bird idea. Which, again, is just Chandelier x Sia. “I’m holding on for dear life, won’t look down, won’t open my eyes, keep my glass full until morning light ‘cause I’m just holding on for tonight.”

So what’s next? For me, it was learning to sit alone in a quiet room with my thoughts. It was apologizing to the ones I hurt, because even if I didn’t mean to hurt them - even if I was suffering also and worse - they still got hurt, and in the end it didn’t matter why. It was developing the habit of liking myself, and acting on whatever self-love and affection I could conjure up. And yes… it was new seasons of Good Omens and Loki, my mom’s spaghetti, and hugs.

So I think Ed has a lot of accountability, reflection, and breaking of old habits in his future… but also warmth, good food, and orgasms. And good for him. That’s the beauty of recovery: we get to come back.

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fruityfairy-world · 10 months ago

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One Piece characters as ponies!!!!!

a fun way to unwind after a long stressful term!

here is my List as to why they are the way they are:

Zoro

- earth ponies have lots of endurance and brute strength, kinda just fits his vibes.

- “b but how will he use three swords? !” you may cry. fear not. i thought of this. i think he would have one in his mouth yes but the others he does sorta martial arts wielding to spin them and launch them, and cause he is Big he launches himself around to catch them. i feel like he’d make it a cool performance

- i didnt make him a unicorn bc i felt it was too easy for him to wield his swords that way. its zoro. he needs to be TOUGH

- cutie mark are swords bc. swords

Sanji

- unicorn because in my head the unicorns should have the weird tails and be tall

- he uses his horn for easy and professional cooking! he learned how to multitask and its what makes him so Speedy

- his legs are still super strong despite being lankier, his longer tail is also used like a whip.

- yes i gave him pants

- yes the pants are blue. truthfully i was thinming of All Blue and wanted to die that in.

- i really like his cutie mark. i made it a burning heart bc of his fire lol and also just his passion, could also be seen like he hurts himself a lot too

Nami

- cute pegasus!

- her wings let her steal faster and sneakier :3 she uses them more for agility and tricks rather than long distance flying

- cutie mark is a tangerine for obvious reasons

- i think she would have her tattoo on the other side of her body!

Robin

- unicorn because she is a smarty pants, i think she is also elegant like one.

- i imagine her devil fruit looks rlly cool with longer limbs, she would probably replicate her horn to stab when needed >:-)

- i chose for her to be a cooler toned purple because she is just. Purple! in my head.

- cutie mark flower petals. tried to make her markings look like petals too

- gave her pink eyes for fun

Usopp

- my camo king. it just felt right because he waits for the perfect moment to strike

- he isnt a pegasus or unicorn bc his strength is his brain! i feel like he’d invent things to try and be like them, but ultimately realize that his intelligence is what makes him save the day

- he can run and hide forever in the best way

- cutie mark is for his skill! a sharpshooter!!

Luffy

- i made him a zebra bc of his zoan powers. it felt right

- SO RED

- red

- still has the hat! obviously! i thiught about making his cutie mark a straw hat but that feels too easy. i almost made it a crowm but that doesnt fit his personality/morals, it feels too idk, hierarchal for him

- black tipped wings inspired by snake man :-)

let me know what u think and if i should do…gasp….more!

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redsummermoon · 5 months ago

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Pumpkin Spice and Everything Nice

Charlie Dalton x reader CW: use of Y/N, female reader, they’re in college [1.1k words] - I hate pumpkin spice, but i know bitches go crazy over it and I just feel like Charlie is a fall guy

Y/N was buried in her notes, the library's soft, ambient hum the perfect backdrop for her focused study session. She was so engrossed in her work that she didn’t notice Charlie approach until he was standing right next to her, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

Without a word, Charlie started packing up Y/N's things, gently closing her notebook and slipping her pens into her bag. “Come on, I’m taking you somewhere,” he said, his voice low but full of excitement.

Y/N blinked up at him, a little startled but not the least bit resistant. She trusted Charlie with her whole heart, and the idea of a spontaneous adventure sounded much better than another hour in the library. “Where are we going?” she asked, though she was already putting on her jacket and slinging her bag over her shoulder.

Charlie just smiled, leaning down to give her a quick, but firm kiss. It was the kind of kiss that left Y/N feeling warm and a little breathless, despite its brevity. She was confused, but in the best way. Charlie had a knack for keeping her on her toes.

“You’ll see,” he replied, lacing his fingers with hers as they made their way out of the library. “Just trust me.”

“Of course I do,” Y/N said, squeezing his hand as they stepped into the crisp autumn air. The early signs of fall were everywhere with the leaves on the trees just starting to turn golden, and there was a pleasant chill in the air that hinted at the cooler days to come. She took a deep breath, already feeling lighter now that she was out of the library and with Charlie.

As they walked through the city streets, Y/N couldn’t help but glance over at Charlie. He looked particularly handsome today, his hair slightly tousled and his eyes bright with whatever secret he was hiding.

“I’m so glad we’re here together,” Y/N said, smiling up at him. “College wouldn’t be the same without you.”

Charlie squeezed her hand again, his smile softening. “I feel the same way. I love that we get to do this. Spend our days together, make new memories. It’s like the best of both worlds.”

Y/N felt a little flutter in her chest at his words. She knew how much it meant to Charlie to be here with her, and the fact that he was always thinking about how to make their time together special made her love him even more.

As they continued to walk, Y/N started to recognize the streets they were taking. They were heading toward their favorite coffee shop, a cozy little place they had discovered together during their first year of college. The realization made her smile. Of course Charlie would choose something that was meaningful to both of them.

When they arrived, Charlie held open the door for her, his face lit up with a giddy excitement that was contagious. “After you, princess,” he said with a dramatic bow, making Y/N giggle as she stepped inside.

The familiar warmth of the coffee shop enveloped them, the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the sweet aroma of baked goods. Y/N could already feel herself relaxing, the stress of studying melting away in the cozy atmosphere.

“Go find us a seat,” Charlie said, giving her a little nudge toward the corner booth they always liked to sit in. “I’ll get the drinks.”

Y/N nodded, slipping into the booth and watching as Charlie made his way to the counter. She couldn’t help but smile as she watched him chat with the barista, his enthusiasm clear even from a distance. He was always so full of life, so full of energy, and it was one of the many things she loved about him.

A few minutes later, Charlie returned with two large mugs, steam curling up from the tops. He set one down in front of Y/N with a proud grin. “Tada! The first pumpkin spice lattes of the season.”

Y/N’s eyes lit up as she looked down at the drink, noticing the cute little pumpkin design in the foam. “Charlie, this is perfect,” she said, her voice filled with appreciation. “You remembered how much I love these.”

“Of course I did,” Charlie replied, sliding into the booth across from her. “It’s the best part of fall, and I wanted to share the first one with you.”

Y/N felt a warmth spread through her chest that had nothing to do with the hot drink in front of her. She took a careful sip, savoring the rich, spiced flavor. “You’re pretty cute, you know that?” she said, a teasing smile playing on her lips.

Charlie grinned, lifting his own mug to his lips. “I could say the same about you,” he replied, taking a sip and promptly getting a mustache of foam on his upper lip.

Y/N giggled, reaching across the table to wipe it away with her thumb. “You’re adorable,” she said softly, her eyes sparkling as she looked at him.

Charlie raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eye. “Is that so? Or are you just saying that because I bought you pumpkin spice?”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “No, it’s not just because of the pumpkin spice. Although, that certainly doesn’t hurt.” She paused, her expression turning a little more serious as she continued to study him. “I just… I love you, Charlie. I love how you make even the simplest things special.”

Charlie’s teasing smile softened into something more tender. He reached across the table, taking her hand in his. “I love you too, Y/N. I’m just glad I get to share all this with you. It wouldn’t be the same without you here.”

Y/N’s heart swelled at his words, and she leaned across the table to press a soft kiss to his lips.

When they finally pulled away, Y/N was smiling. “You taste like pumpkin,” she teased, her voice light and full of affection.

Charlie chuckled, giving her hand a squeeze. “Good, because that means fall is officially here. And there’s no one I’d rather spend it with than you.”

Y/N felt a surge of happiness, knowing that this was just the beginning of another season full of love, laughter, and new memories with Charlie. “Here’s to pumpkin spice and everything nice,” she said, lifting her mug in a toast.

Charlie grinned, clinking his mug against hers. “To us.”

They sat there for a while longer, just enjoying each other’s company, the warmth of the coffee, and the promise of a beautiful fall together.

#charlie dalton x reader #charliedaltonxreader #charlie dalton #dead poets society #dead poets fandom #dead poets fanfic #dps #dps fanfiction #dps fandom #dps x reader #dps charlie

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ghostingcrows · 2 years ago

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Okay because generally I’ve been seeing a lot of fighting a weirdness I wanted to talk about this for a second

Hobie Brown is not an adult

Please stop being weird about him!!

More explanations under the cut

I’ve been complaining about this a lot and for people that don’t understand this situation essentially in an interview one of the directors said that an early concept of Hobie design was that he was supposed to be like the cooler older kid and as the example used for this he stated the ages 19/20

Because of this many people took it as still being canon which has led to a large bit of debate in the community between people about his age

The people who have taken this reference to the early concept as canon have started bashing people who ship Hobie with others in the group (mainly Miles and Pav which is important and which I will come back to later) as well as used this as an excuse to sexualize Hobie because hes an adult

A barely legal one which even if this was true is its own separate issue

However the issue with this specific take is that its wrong

For a variety of reasons

1) For starters people say that since the director said he was 19/20 it must be true however another director/creator of the film has stated that Hobies age is up for interpretation meaning he doesn’t have a specific set age

However, it is very clear based off of everything else that Hobie was still meant to be in the teenager range in terms of age

For starters the actual movie

Throughout the first half of the movie Hobie is referred to a couple times by both Gwen and Pav and later Miles

Every time he is talked about in this context it is always with the undertoned implication of him and Gwen supposedly having a romantic relationship with both Pav and Gwen treating it as a sort of thing that could potentially cause friction or other issues in regards to Miles and Gwens relationship

If Hobie really were 19/20 this would be, cannot stress this enough, incredibly weird and creepy on the writers part

Unlike Hobie Gwen does have a confirmed age and she IS a minor and the movie imply that she had a relationship with Hobie whether she actual did or not and treating it as a joke would be weird and out of place if he was an adult

Not to mention that a lot of people referred to Gwen, Hobie and Miles dynamic as a love triangle which again weird and gross and uncalled for if Hobie was an adult

2) The art books both in the english and Japanese translation refer to Hobie in a way that either implies hes a kid or outright uses terms that mean hes a child

In the English translation of the book Hobie is referred to as the cool slightly older boy the girls want to date

Meanwhile the Japanese translation literally spells it out

3) I’ve heard a variety of different deflect in regards to all the above mentioned stuff

“Hobie doesn’t look like a kid” people age differently. I’ve met kids in high school who were the same age as or younger than me with full ass beards and mustaches as well as people who are well into there 20 who look like they’re still 15 he simply just has a structured face

“He was bit at 16 in the comics and said he was spider-man for 3 years in the movie” We aren’t in the comics universe though and in this iteration Miles was bit at like 13 and Gwen at like 14 meaning that in actuality the kids are usually bitten really damn early and the actual facts are that we don’t know how old he was when he was bitten and since we very clearly aren’t in the comic universe as these movies are significantly different from the comics you can’t just go off of that

“Just because it was a concept doesn’t mean it was changed it could still have been kept” While it is true that yes sometimes things from first draft concepts are kept a lot of times they aren’t such as Hobies best friend Pavitr who was supposed to be 13 in his concept but very clearly isn’t in the movie (I don’t actually have solid evidence for that claim I just think it would be weird that they make comments about Pavs body and show him shirtless if he was still 13 in the final-) both Pav and Hobie had a shit ton of changes done to them alongside basically all of the main 4 (Hobie, Pavitr, Gwen and Miles), except for maybe Miles but he was already an established character, so using his concept as hard and fast evidence when he very clearly was changed a lot and everything else points toward him being a kid just doesn’t work

“He mentions going to a pub so he has to be at least 21” first Hobie is British and the legal age in Britain is 18 also you don’t have to be of legal drinking age to go into a pub you just have to be old enough to actual order drinks which doesn’t even account for the fact that this is also Hobie we’re talking about who would not give the slightest fucks about the legal drinking age “But they show him with a beer in his montage and they wouldn’t encourage that in an underage character” Hobies montage is so fast paced and colorful that I genuinely don’t even know if thats true because you can barely comprehend the stuff that happens in that scene the first time you see it and not to mention that he also flips off the cops in that montage so I don’t really think they were too concerned about encouraging certain behaviors or not since half of Hobies speech in that scene was about overthrowing governments saying ACAB

So in conclusion

Hobie doesn’t have a confirmed age but based off off all the information we are given he is probably actually closer to 16/17 as his age

Now as a side tangent something else I want to address is the inherent homophobia and racism undertones that came with the initial spreading of his false age

Because when people initially heard that age they’re first instinct wasn’t to jump at the actual movie for imply a ship with Hobie and Gwen or even on the people make jokes about but was instead to jump on the people shipping Hobie with Pav and Miles

Both other male characters who are also characters of color

Odd that the first though was the (honestly at that time) relatively new and unpopular gay poc ships (Yes I know the ships are more popular now they had BARELY any content at the time of the interview)

Like genuinely the absolute giddy JOY I saw some people have at the idea that people who were minding their own business would have had a ship they liked ruined for them was insane and still is to me

#Imma be honest I'm fairly confident that age estimate is right and its gonna be really awkward if the next movie fucks me by saying hes old #spider-man across the spider-verse #ATSV #hobie brown #pavitr prabhakar #miles morales #gwen stacy #punkflower #chaipunk #this debate gives me a headache and I hate it

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