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satellite-evans · 4 months ago

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in his eyes

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: it doesn't matter what people say on the internet, because Lando loves you.

Word count: 3.3k+

Warnings: giving birth, angst, fluff, insecurity, nasty people on the internet

A/N:

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, talks, vents, recommendations or just simple questions are always welcome.

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

The room was still and peaceful. After hours of pain and screaming, it was finally quiet. You could hear the faint beeping of the heart monitor in the background, but it was as if everything else had faded away. In that sacred silence, your heart felt fuller than it ever had before.

Lando’s voice broke through the quiet again, but this time, it was a little more hesitant, as if he were trying to put words to the flood of emotions swirling in his chest. “I always dreamed of this moment... but seeing her here, in my arms... it’s so much more than I imagined.”

Your heart swelled at his words. You had always known how much he longed for this day—how much he dreamed of becoming a father. But to witness it, to see him holding their daughter with such reverence, was beyond anything you could have ever expected.

“She’s so tiny,” you whispered, leaning in a little closer to get a better look at the little girl in Lando’s arms. "It’s hard to believe she’s ours."

Lando nodded, his thumb gently stroking the baby’s tiny hand, his gaze never leaving her face. “I just want to protect her. I want to give her everything. She’s going to have the best life.”

You smiled, feeling tears well up in your eyes again. You had always known Lando was capable of deep love, but seeing him like this, seeing him so vulnerable, made you fall even deeper in love with him.

“I have no doubt, Lando,” you said softly. “She’s going to have everything she needs... and more.”

Lando turned his head toward you for the first time since he’d been holding their daughter, his eyes glistening with emotion. He smiled, a soft, loving smile that melted your heart. “I couldn’t have asked for a better partner. I can't believe she's mine as much as I can't believe I'm yours. We’re in this together.”

You reached out to gently stroke the side of his face, your thumb tracing the curve of his jaw. His words meant everything to you. There was no one else you’d rather share this moment, this journey, with. "I feel the same. You're going to be the best dad, Lando."

He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment. “I’ll try my best. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure she’s happy.”

The quiet room filled with the sound of a small yawn from your daughter, followed by the soft rustling of blankets. Lando chuckled softly, clearly enchanted by the tiny noise. “She’s already got her own little personality, huh?”

You both laughed quietly, and the sound felt like music, the kind of sound that made everything else in the world feel right. “I think she’s definitely going to keep us on our toes.”

Lando nodded, but his eyes were still soft and full of awe. "I'm ready for that. As long as we’re together... we can handle anything."

Your heart fluttered as you looked at him, this man who had been your partner, your best friend, and now, the father of your child. There were no words to fully capture the depth of what you felt in that moment. All that mattered was that you were here, together, in this perfect little bubble of love with your daughter.

“She’s going to love you so much, Lando,” you whispered, your voice full of certainty.

He smiled at you, a rare vulnerability in his eyes as he gazed at their daughter again. “I already love her more than I ever thought possible.”

As the moments passed, the three of you simply existed in this space, letting the world outside the hospital room fade away. There was no rush, no need for anything other than this precious time you had together, letting the quiet joy of the moment fill every corner of your hearts.

Lando's voice was low and full of affection as he spoke again, almost as if to himself. “This... this is everything I’ve ever wanted. You, her... us.”

You nodded, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. "And we're just getting started."

The first few weeks after giving birth were a whirlwind of emotions, adjustments, and challenges. Your body was healing, and there were days when you felt overwhelmed by the exhaustion. Physical recovery was tough, and mentally, you wondered if you were doing enough. The sleepless nights, the constant feeding, the emotional rollercoaster—it was all a lot to process. But through it all, Lando was there.

You often found him hovering around you like a quiet guardian, making sure you were comfortable and had everything you needed. The first night you came home from the hospital, Lando insisted on taking the baby for a few hours to give you some rest. You were still recovering from the birth, and the thought of trying to breastfeed, soothe the baby, and manage the pain seemed overwhelming. But Lando stepped in without hesitation.

"I’ve got her, Y/N. You rest," he said, his voice soothing and steady as he gently took their daughter into his arms. You had to fight the urge to stay up, but you trusted him. You allowed yourself to close your eyes, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you slept soundly for a few hours, knowing your baby was safe and loved.

When you woke up, the sight that greeted you made your heart swell. Lando was sitting on the couch, holding the baby against his bare chest. His face, usually so focused and intense, was softened in a way you had never seen before. He gazed at her with such love and tenderness, whispering sweet words to her as she napped peacefully in his arms.

" I know I said it like a hundred times already but, she’s perfect, Y/N. Absolutely perfect," Lando had said, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he was afraid to disturb the serenity of the moment.

He made sure you didn’t feel the weight of the housework either. Whenever the dishes piled up, Lando was the one to wash them, even when he had been working on the simulator for hours or when the demands of his racing career were overwhelming. "I’ve got it. You just relax. You’ve done enough," he’d tell you. He even took on the responsibility of cooking, though you could tell his meals weren’t quite as delicious as when you were in charge. But it didn’t matter—what mattered was the effort, the care, the thoughtfulness he put into everything.

Lando was constantly reassuring you when you doubted yourself. He saw the way your shoulders would slump after a long day of caring for the baby, how the sleepless nights began to take their toll, and he’d be there to remind you that you were doing an amazing job. When you expressed how hard it was to adjust to motherhood and how difficult it felt to bounce back physically, Lando was quick to reassure you.

“You’re incredible. You brought life into the world, Y/N. That’s something amazing. You are enough,” he said with conviction, never once faltering in his support.

There were nights when the baby would cry, and Lando would take the lead, waking up to comfort her before you had even opened your eyes. He’d hold her, rock her gently, and whisper soft lullabies to her, making sure she felt safe and loved while you caught a few more hours of sleep. His patience was endless.

Sometimes, when you’d express that you didn’t feel like yourself, that you didn’t look like yourself, Lando would gently take your face in his hands, his eyes filled with love. “You’re the same Y/N I fell in love with. You’ll always be her. Nothing about you has changed, except maybe... you’re even more beautiful now,” he’d say with a warm, playful smile, easing the weight of your worries with his words.

Lando’s support wasn’t just physical—it was emotional, too. He never let you feel alone in this new chapter of your life. When you cried from the frustration of sleepless nights or the pressure of balancing it all, Lando would simply pull you into his arms. “I’m here, Y/N. We’re in this together,” he’d say, as you let the tears fall.

Even when you doubted whether you could be the kind of mother you imagined yourself to be, Lando believed in you completely. "I’ve never seen anyone do what you do with as much strength and love as you have. We’re a team," he’d remind you over and over again.

And he was right. He never let you feel like you were doing it alone. When you struggled, he didn’t hesitate to pick up the slack. Whether it was handling late-night feedings or changing diapers, he did it all with a quiet grace that made you admire him more than ever.

In those early weeks, as you both navigated the unfamiliar waters of parenthood, it became clear to you just how deeply Lando cared—not just for you, but for your little family. He did everything with the thought of making your life a little easier, even when he was running on empty himself.

"You’ve given me the greatest gift, Y/N," he told you one evening, after putting the baby to sleep. “And I’m so thankful for both of you.”

You reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. “I couldn’t do it without you.”

Lando smiled, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “You’ll never have to,” he promised. "I’m always going to be here."

And in that moment, you knew—you were never alone.

One sunny afternoon, you felt like you had enough energy to step outside. The last few weeks had been a blur of late nights, feedings, and tender moments with Lando and your baby. You loved every second of it, but you also needed a break, a small taste of normalcy. You had always enjoyed little walks and small outings with Lando, and today, you wanted to do something nice for him. He’d been so incredible, taking on the lion’s share of the care and support, and you wanted to return the favor.

So, you decided to walk to your favorite bakery. The idea was simple: get a couple of your favorite pastries as a treat for both of you. It would give you some fresh air and a little exercise, and you couldn’t wait to surprise Lando with something sweet. You’d always shared a love for pastries, and there was something comforting about going there alone, just to clear your mind for a while.

As you strolled down the street, the air felt crisp and refreshing. Your body was still adjusting, but with each step, you felt a bit more like yourself. It was the first time in a while that you didn’t feel overwhelmed, and you even caught yourself smiling at the thought of Lando, who was back at home taking care of the baby.

When you arrived at the bakery, you paused for a moment to take in the familiar, cozy atmosphere. The warm, inviting smell of freshly baked goods hit you, and you felt comforted by the thought of how much Lando would appreciate this little gesture. As you stood in line, your fingers fiddled with your phone, glancing at the screen before it was your turn to order.

“Hi, I’ll have two of the almond croissants and one of the chocolate eclairs, please,” you said, giving the cashier a friendly smile.

But then, as you stood there waiting for your order, you heard the sound of giggles behind you. You barely registered it at first, but then it came again—a group of girls, no older than your mid-twenties, talking and laughing loudly.

“You know, I saw Y/N out in public the other day…” one of them said, her voice dripping with that judgmental tone. “She’s huge now. Like, I know she had a baby, but how can she just let herself go like that?”

The other girls snickered in agreement. “Lando deserves someone better than her,” one of them added. “I mean, he could have anyone, right? Why stay with someone who just let themselves go like that?”

The words felt like a sharp slap to the chest, and for a moment, everything around you seemed to blur. You didn’t know whether to cry, shout, or just run out of the bakery. They weren’t whispering or trying to hide it—they were speaking loudly, thinking you wouldn’t hear. But you did. Every word stung.

You wanted to turn around and say something, to defend yourself, but instead, you kept your eyes on the counter, trying to hold it together as the cashier bagged your pastries. You could feel the heat rise to your face, the tears pricking at the back of your eyes. It had been so long since you’d felt self-conscious, and yet, their words dug up insecurities you had worked so hard to bury.

You paid for the pastries with a forced smile, muttering a polite “Thank you,” before quickly exiting the bakery. You had to get home. You needed to get away from the cruel laughter that still echoed in your ears.

Once you were back home, the door clicked shut behind you, and you stood there for a moment, taking in the quiet of the house. You set the pastries down on the kitchen counter, the warm scent of fresh-baked goods filling the air, but it did little to lift the weight that had settled in your chest. You could still hear the words from the bakery echoing in your mind, the sting of the comments, and the cruel judgments of people who didn’t know you or what you’d been through.

With a sigh, you rubbed your eyes, exhausted both physically and emotionally. Your heart was heavy, and it felt like everything was crashing down around you. Lando had been so caring, so supportive, and you didn’t want to burden him with this—it wasn’t fair to him. He had done so much to make you feel loved and beautiful, and here you were, doubting it all because of a few words from strangers.

You took a deep breath, trying to shake it off. You didn’t want to ruin this moment—this quiet, peaceful time at home with your family. So instead of seeking out Lando, you slipped quietly into the living room, phone in hand, and tried to lose yourself in something else.

You knew scrolling through social media wasn’t healthy—especially right now—but it felt like a distraction, something to fill the empty space in your mind. But the moment you unlocked your phone, it all came crashing in. The familiar blue light illuminated the room, but instead of calming you, it brought a flood of negativity.

The comments began to pour in, one after another, and with each notification, your chest tightened. The words were sharp, cruel.

"She’s disgusting." "Lando should dump her and find someone who takes care of themselves."

The comments continued to pile on, each one worse than the last. "Fat," "ugly," "why does she think she’s still worthy of him?" They cut through you like daggers, tearing into every insecurity, every vulnerability you’d tried so hard to hide. The words hit you harder than you could have imagined, and it felt like the air was being sucked out of your lungs. Your heart ached as your eyes filled with tears.

Before you knew it, the tears were flowing, and there was nothing you could do to stop them. The hurtful words from the bakery combined with the hateful comments made everything feel too overwhelming. You wiped your face quickly, but the tears wouldn’t stop.

It wasn’t long before you heard footsteps upstairs. Lando had gone up to check on the baby, and now, his soft footsteps echoed down the stairs as he walked back into the living room. When his eyes found you, his expression immediately shifted from calm to concern. His gaze locked onto your red, tear-streaked face, and he froze, clearly taken aback by the sight.

"Y/N…" he said softly, his voice full of worry as he rushed over to where you sat. "What’s wrong?"

You hesitated for a moment, trying to hide the phone in your lap, but he could see the pain in your eyes. He knelt down in front of you, gently taking the phone from your hand. You didn’t have the strength to say anything, so you simply let him read what was on the screen.

His face darkened immediately as he scanned the words. The anger was evident in the tightening of his jaw, the flare of his nostrils. “What the hell is this?” he asked, his voice sharp and protective. His fingers clenched the phone as his eyes lifted to meet yours, filled with disbelief and fury.

“These people… they don’t know anything about you. About us,” he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. The softness in his expression faltered as he took in the full weight of your hurt. He sat down beside you, his arm wrapping around you and pulling you gently into his chest.

“Y/N…” he whispered again, his voice soft but full of conviction. “Listen to me. You are amazing. You gave me our beautiful daughter, and your body—your beautiful, strong body—did something incredible. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known. Inside and out.”

The words melted your heart, but it was still hard to fight the weight of the hurt. You sniffled, resting your face against his chest, your voice breaking. “But the comments… they’re right. I don’t look like I used to. I don’t—”

Lando pulled back just enough to tilt your chin up, his thumb gently wiping away a tear that had slipped down your cheek. “Don’t you dare,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “You’ve never looked more beautiful to me. Not once, not ever. You’re the woman I love. These people? They can say whatever they want, but they don’t get to decide how I see you.”

His words washed over you, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the tight knot in your chest began to loosen. He cupped your face gently in his hands, his eyes full of love as he whispered, “If all the women in the world gathered together and shouted it, they couldn’t ever suppress your whisper. You’re perfect, Y/N.”

A fresh wave of tears stung your eyes, but they weren’t from sadness this time—they were from the overwhelming love you felt in this moment. Lando leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment longer than usual.

“I’ll always see you for who you truly are,” he murmured, his voice full of warmth and tenderness. “And if they don’t see it… that’s their problem. But as for me? I’m right here, loving you more every day.”

You laughed softly through your tears, feeling the tension in your chest dissolve. Lando’s playful tone lifted your spirits even more. "And let’s be honest," he added with a cheeky grin, "even if all of them did shout, I’d still be right here. Loving you. And no one can change that."

The gentle teasing helped lighten your heart, and for the first time in hours, you felt a small flicker of hope. Lando was right. His love for you wasn’t based on anything as fleeting as looks. It was about who you were, what you’d been through together, and the life you’d created. No one could take that away.

Lando pulled you closer, pressing a soft kiss to your lips—gentle and reassuring, as if to seal the promise of his words. And for the first time since you left the bakery, you allowed yourself to believe it. You were enough. You were perfect, just as you were.

And you were loved, more than you could ever imagine.

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haartemis · 5 months ago

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BIG EGO | Kylian Mbappé

pairing: kylian mbappe x fem!reader

word count: 2.5k

summary: people say you and kylian are the perfect match; both of you confident, unstoppable, and drawn to each other like magnets. when one evening you loyally defend him against snarky online critics, kylian shows his appreciation by proving once again that while his ego might be big, there’s something else of his that's even bigger...

warnings: smut!!! its all smut

a/n: this song feels like kylian so much lol, i figured i had to write something based on it. writing smut is still so hard *no pun intended* 🥲 feedback is welcome

you know kylian better than anyone else.

he’s kind, funny, smart, but above all, he’s confident. he doesn’t downplay his talent or pretend not to notice the greatness everyone else sees in him. instead, he’s matter of fact about it, and you find that quality of his charming, magnetic, and infuriatingly sexy. why?because you’re the same.

you know your worth. why move through the world being fake humble? you’re aware of who you are, what you’re capable of, and you don’t see the point in pretending otherwise. there’s no reward in dimming your light to make others feel comfortable. it’s not arrogance; it’s confidence. but for many men, especially those you were romantically involved with in the past, your confidence often intimidated them, and they ran away.

not kylian, though.

when you first met him, a meddling stranger had warned with fake concern that kylian was 'too full of himself' and therefore bad news. yet from the very first conversation it was like seeing yourself reflected in someone else. the same drive to succeed in your careers, the same unwavering self assurance. where others saw you as a threat, he saw you as an equal partner, and he didn’t shrink away from you. instead, he was drawn to you, like a moth to a flame. or more accurately, like fire meeting fire. together, you bring out the best in each other.

"what a beautiful couple!' people usually exclaim at weddings, birthday parties, or any social gathering. they admire the way you hold yourselves, the way your personalities mesh in such a perfect way. you understand why it works: you see the best in yourselves, and you see it in each other too. and sometimes you play up the cockiness people project onto you two, just cuz it's fun. especially in the bedroom, when its just you two and you can bask in each other's love.

but sometimes, that projection can get under your skin. tonight is one of those nights.

you’ve just gotten back home after an evening game at the bernabeu, a game the team won. it feels like he’s hitting his stride again, growing sharper and more confident in the white shirt he’s always dreamed of wearing. he scored a nice goal, yet the trolls online still seem determined to tear him down.

kylian has never really minded it. whether praise or criticism, he’s used to people talking about him. he knows football fans can be fickle and reactionary, so he usually doesn't put much weight onto whatever they say. in fact, he makes a point to stay offline most of the time, to disconnect from the craziness of twitter. but you? you're very online, and sometimes you can’t help but want to bite back on his behalf.

you’re scrolling through your twitter timeline, sitting on your bed waiting for kylian to come to bed so you can call it a night, when one tweet catches your eye: “the dictator is destroying the locker room”

you roll your eyes. you scroll down and find another: “he’s so arrogant, always calling himself one of the best players in the world”

the audacity.

before you can think twice, your fingers are already typing away. “he talks like this cuz he can back it up!” you hit send, satisfaction coursing through you at having shut up one more idiot spewing nonsense on the internet.

“what are you doing?” kylian’s voice pulls you back to reality.

you glance up, and your breath hitches. he’s leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, having just emerged from the walk-in closet wearing his usual bedtime attire: absolutely nothing but a pair of tight black boxers. your gaze involuntarily slides over the sharp planes of his abs, to his bulging crotch where you can see a hint of a curve beneath the waistband, then finally to his powerful, sculpted thighs. you swallow hard at the sight.

“nothing” you say, a little too quickly.

his eyebrows lift, and he steps closer before sitting down on the bed beside you, taking the phone from your hands. his eyes scan the screen, and his smirk widens. “defending my honor online huh?”

you fold your arms, suddenly defensive. “they were saying ridiculous things and you’re too chill about it”

he shakes his head, chuckling softly. “ma chérie, people have been talking about me for years. i don’t care what they say. why do you?”

“because you deserve better” you say, your voice firm. “they act like it’s a crime that you're confident. it pisses me off”

his expression softens. he cups your face, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek. “i don’t need anyone to fight my battles” he says, his voice low. “but it’s cute that you want to”

you glare at him half heartedly. “i’m not cute. i’m right”

“you’re both” he says, leaning his head in the crook of your neck. “and just so you know, i love that you’re always in my corner. i think it's really hot”

he presses his lips to the soft curve of your neck, breathing you in before pressing slow kisses, lips dragging a trail of shivers in their wake. his fingers find the thin strap of your camisole, sliding it down your shoulder as his hands begin to roam from your shoulders to your waist, before tracing the curve of your hips and gliding over your thighs.

then his lips move to yours, his tongue slipping past your lips with ease. your hands move instinctively, one cradling the back of his head, while the other grazes the nape of his neck with your nails. you know exactly what that does to him, the way it sends a shiver rippling through his body. his sharp inhale against your mouth tells you you’ve hit your mark, and it only encourages you, pulling him closer as the kiss grows even more heated.

“that skirt you wore tonight…” he murmurs against your lips, his hands slipping under the hem of your pajama shorts and gripping your upper thighs. “you knew what you were doing, didn’t you? showing off these legs. in the tunnel when you were waiting for me, all the guys there were staring at you”

you break the kiss. “jealous?”

“no" he says calmly. “there’s no one better than me"

you know he means it. and it turns you on.

he continues, “they can try, but they’ll never make your head turn, because no one compares to me”

your hand wanders to his bulge, and you hear his breath hitch as you rub him through his boxers.

“such a huge ego” you tease.

he just shrugs in response, a proud smirk playing on his face. the same smirk he has in press conferences when he’s outsmarted a slick journalist fishing for a soundbite to twist out of context.

you lick the palm of your hand and slide it inside his boxers, eagerly pulling him out. his hips involuntarily jerk at the contact, and you smirk. you swipe your fingers over the fat, swollen head, admiring the sight of what's in your hand. he’s so warm, so so hard, so smooth. and all yours to play with.

“y/n” his voice comes out rugged. “fuck that’s good”

you like watching all of his control dissolve. love replacing that smirk on his face with an agonized look.

“tell me what else is good” you murmur as you slowly stroke him, tightening your grip.

kylian groans, his head tipping back.

“being inside you. that’s the best” he breathes, his voice rough with desire. “but you already know that”

your smirk widens as you lean closer to him. “i do” you tease, your lips brushing against his ear. your tongue peeks out and sensually drags over his lobe before you bite it, eliciting a breathy sigh from him. “but I like hearing you say it”

you keep stroking him, and the faster you jerk his dick, the more he falls apart. soon he’s moaning, catching your wrist with one strong hand, begging you, “no more. don’t make me come before i get inside you”

you pout before slowing your movements, running your thumb over one thick vein running up the length of him.

“y/n” he groans, his hips jerking once again. unable to resist, you press a chaste kiss to the place where the vein meets the head. your mouth is watering for him.

but just as you're about to get down on your knees so you can finally put him in your mouth, he suddenly moves, his hands slipping under your thighs to lift you effortlessly and laying you back against the bed. his body hovers over yours, and his gaze locks onto yours, intense and dark with arousal.

“i was about to suck you off” you whine.

he grins. "you'll get to, any time you want. its all yours. but i want to taste you tonight"

his mouth moves to your neck, his lips brushing softly before his teeth scrape against your skin. you let out a contented sigh, his words making you very excited for what's to come.

his hands slide under your camisole, pushing it up and over your head in one fluid motion. the cool air meets your heated skin, and his eyes lazily glide over your naked form. he tweaks one nipple, and you shiver.

his hands go lower, and he gently lifts you up by the hip so can he slide your shorts and panties off you.

“no one compares to you either, you know” he says, his voice thick with meaning as he shifts lower on the bed, his broad shoulders spreading your legs with ease. he pauses, glancing up at you with that infuriatingly confident wink. “not in this lifetime. or the next. or ever. we’re the same. that's why we're made for each other”

and with that, he dips his head, his mouth finding its rightful place.

you let out a quiet yelp as his tongue slides through your folds inquisitively, as if it hasn’t been there a hundred times before. it's warm and probing, and almost reverent, like you're a delicious meal he's trying to savor. his beard that you make fun of serves its purpose in times like these; it rasps against the tender spot where your thighs meet your ass, and the friction amplifies everything, every sensation sharper, hotter, better. you can't help but arch into him, craving more.

and then there’s his hand, his fingers working your clit in such fast, insistent circles that if he stops you might kill him. the intensity builds so quickly it’s almost unbearable, and you grip the sheets like they’re the only thing anchoring you. you’re lying on a bed, yes, but his tongue is making you so weak you’re sure you’ll fall apart if it wasn’t for one of his strong arms wrapped around your upper thigh holding you in place. even then, you writhe and squirm, eyes shut in ecstasy, mouth repeating “yes, please”s and “oh my god”s and nothing else.

when you finally come, the pleasure rolls through you in waves, leaving you boneless and trembling. still, he doesn’t stop. his tongue stokes you through the aftershock, even as your muscles turn into liquid and your body feels like it’s floating.

he finally relents when you place your hand on his head and shake him slightly. he looks up, his lips and the tip of his pretty nose glistening from your wetness, a satisfied smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. he’s got a smug look on his face. “see? who else could do this to you?”

you don’t answer him with words; instead, you let your body speak for you. wrapping your legs around his waist, you pull him down to you, drawing his mouth to yours. the kiss is slow and languid, your lips moving against his as you savor the taste of yourself on him.

when your breath steadies and the aftermath of your orgasm fades into a warm feeling, you nip at his bottom lip, tugging it gently before pulling back. the smirk that crosses his face tells you he already knows what’s coming next.

because it’s kylian, and he knows you as intimately as you know yourself. because it always feels like he can read your mind, like your desires are two halves of the same whole. without a word, he rolls onto his back, sprawling against the sheets compliantly, leaving himself open for you to ride him.

you waste no time, sliding over him and straddling his strong thigh, the muscles beneath you flexing beautifully. his hands find your hips, steadying you as you position yourself. your bodies align perfectly, and as you sink down onto him, he slides home with ease.

there’s no painful friction, but there’s still a small pleasurable ache, the stretch that always comes with him. no matter how many times you’ve done this, your body always needs a moment to adjust, to accommodate him. the slight burn is part of the experience, a reminder of just how much of him there is. he groans low in his throat as you take him fully, the sound vibrating through your chest. "you're so big" you moan.

“you okay?” he murmurs, his voice rough but caring.

you nod, resting your palms on his chest as you steady yourself. “yeah” you whisper. "i can handle you"

his lips curve into a grin, his hands tightening on your hips. “i know” he says, his tone shifting “we fit so good. i told you, we're made for each other”

his words send a shiver through you as you rise slowly and sinking back down on him again. the drag of his cock against your walls sends sparks shooting through your body, and you bite your lip, letting out a soft moan. kylian’s gaze never leaves you, his dark eyes filled with heat and something deeper, something raw and unspoken.

“fuck, you’re perfect” he breathes, his fingers pressing into your skin as you find your rhythm.

you move with deliberate slowness at first, your hips rolling as you grind against him. the sensation is exhilarating, the way he fills you, stretches you, the way he watches you like you’re the only thing worth watching in the world.

leaning down, you press your lips to his ear. “you like watching me take you like this, don’t you?” you murmur, your voice dripping with confidence. “because I’m so fucking hot”

he groans, his hands sliding up your sides, over your ribs, until they find your breasts. His thumbs brush over your nipples, sending jolts of pleasure through you. “you're so fucking hot” he agrees, his hips bucking slightly, pushing even deeper.

you pick up the pace, riding him with more intensity now, the sound of your bodies meeting filling the room. his hands guide your movements, helping you find just the right angle, and soon you’re both lost in the heat of it, in the raw, unending need for each other. from time to time you lean down to give him a better view of your breasts, the way you know he likes it.

when his hand slides between your legs, his fingers finding your clit, it’s almost too much. the added stimulation sends you over the edge, your head tipping back as pleasure crashes over you like a tidal wave.

“ky” you cry out, your hands clutching at his chest as you fall apart around him.

“baby” he groans. he repeats his upward thrusts, holding you in place so you can do nothing but take it. again, again, and again, until you tighten yourself around him so much he has no chance of holding it off. his own release chases after yours.

finally he stills, his body tensing as he lets go, a deep, guttural moan leaving his mouth.

for a moment, neither of you moves, your breaths mingling as you come down from the high. then he reaches up, cupping your face and pulling you down for a kiss. It’s slow and tender, a contrast to the fire that had just consumed you both.

when you finally pull away, his lips curve into a lazy smile. “you’re incredible, you know that?”

you smirk, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "of course i do”

you know he knows you mean it.

his laugh is soft, his thumb tracing circles on your hip. “god, i love you” he says, and the sincerity in his voice makes your heart swell.

you lean down, pressing your forehead to his. “i love you too, ky” you whisper.

slowly, you lift yourself off him, feeling the tender ache as you slide him out of you. you settle back onto the bed beside him, the sheets cool against your hot, sweaty skin. for a while, you both just lie there catching your breath.

“what was that tweet you saw about me earlier?” kylian asks a little later, after you’ve taken care of the mandatory post sex clean up routine and gotten back in bed.

“hmm?”

“earlier,” he repeats, turning his head to look at you. “i saw your reply, but I didn’t see the tweet you were replying to. what did it say?”

“oh that” you giggle. there’s still so much endorphins rushing in you that you can’t even find the anger you felt earlier when you saw the tweet. “it said you’re destroying the real madrid locker room”

kylian arranges his face into a mock scowl. “nonsense” he says, lips twitching. he pauses for dramatic effect, and you know what he’s about to say. “the only thing I destroy is this pussy”

you both burst out laughing.

tags: @idontknowwhatthisvis555 @nowrosesaredead @iuoiyr @acarolnzinhaa-03 @ynkfreeastheocean @scottishthistle @user6373738 @loonworld @whateveryouloser @greyishbach @ajsboys @kyliansonlygf @lucysantos6-blog @tuliptopiasstuff @kennasutopia @cinderellawithashoe @akiracim @kymb-10 @germanapples @heartbreakylian @cleverwinnermaker @creampuff07

#kylian mbappe imagine #kylian mbappe smut #kylian mbappe #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian x reader #kylian mbappé imagine #kylian mbappé x reader #kylian mbappé smut #football fanfic #kylian mbappe one shot #kylian mbappé one shot #kylian mbappe x you #kylian mbappé x you

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thatbadadvice · 5 months ago

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Help! I'm A Private Person!

Neil Gaiman, Journal.NeilGaiman.com, 14 January 2025:

Over the past many months, I have watched the stories circulating the internet about me with horror and dismay. I’ve stayed quiet until now, both out of respect for the people who were sharing their stories and out of a desire not to draw even more attention to a lot of misinformation. I've always tried to be a private person, and felt increasingly that social media was the wrong place to talk about important personal matters. I've now reached the point where I feel that I should say something. As I read through this latest collection of accounts, there are moments I half-recognise and moments I don’t, descriptions of things that happened sitting beside things that emphatically did not happen. I’m far from a perfect person, but I have never engaged in non-consensual sexual activity with anyone. Ever. I went back to read the messages I exchanged with the women around and following the occasions that have subsequently been reported as being abusive. These messages read now as they did when I received them – of two people enjoying entirely consensual sexual relationships and wanting to see one another again. At the time I was in those relationships, they seemed positive and happy on both sides. And I also realise, looking through them, years later, that I could have and should have done so much better. I was emotionally unavailable while being sexually available, self-focused and not as thoughtful as I could or should have been. I was obviously careless with people's hearts and feelings, and that's something that I really, deeply regret. It was selfish of me. I was caught up in my own story and I ignored other people's. I’ve spent some months now taking a long, hard look at who I have been and how I have made people feel. Like most of us, I’m learning, and I'm trying to do the work needed, and I know that that's not an overnight process. I hope that with the help of good people, I'll continue to grow. I understand that not everyone will believe me or even care what I say but I’ll be doing the work anyway, for myself, my family and the people I love. I will be doing my very best to deserve their trust, as well as the trust of my readers. At the same time, as I reflect on my past – and as I re-review everything that actually happened as opposed to what is being alleged – I don't accept there was any abuse. To repeat, I have never engaged in non-consensual sexual activity with anyone. Some of the horrible stories now being told simply never happened, while others have been so distorted from what actually took place that they bear no relationship to reality. I am prepared to take responsibility for any missteps I made. I’m not willing to turn my back on the truth, and I can't accept being described as someone I am not, and cannot and will not admit to doing things I didn't do.

Dear Neil,

You, sir, are nothing other than fundamentally misunderstood — indicated in every sense by this, a smart and good post that you published on the whole-ass internet for literally the entire world to read.

The important thing is that you're learning! And you deserve infinite credit for that. Not nearly enough people appreciate how much you've learned about yourself in the course of ~ allegedly ~ committing sexual assault against multiple, probably crazy, women and the aftermath thereof. Less enlightened men would disregard the experiences of women who have highly specific and detailed accounts of being sexually abused, but you are open to the idea that the women who foolishly believe you assaulted them were simply mislead by your interminable charm! For which you cannot be held responsible! What a gift you are, friend; your generosity and open-mindedness are unparalleled.

Truly, whomst among us has not been where you find yourself now? Come, enjoy the company of friends who understand the brutal loneliness that results from being misunderstood by hysterical bitches who fail to appreciate the privilege of having your masterful fingers shoved up their asses without notice!

Again and again, women love men like you too much. They want you to be emotionally and sexually available! And that is just so, so much to ask. You have a lot going on! It's not a ding on them — of course they find you irresistible, being as you are an intellectual titan — and they may find themselves confused and intimidated by your sexual prowess, unaware that you exist in a world beyond pedestrian notions of consent. That is what makes your work so particularly meaningful and powerful.

You write about a man who does a bad thing, but you do the other good thing! You do a good thing, but in your work, a man does a bad thing! This is the stuff of sheer brilliance, capturing the sturm unt drang of the human condition — or, at least, of the humans whose conditions matter most, which is to say, men of your creative stature.

The sorry truth is that despite your best efforts, no one understands you, the author of 40-plus years of written work in which you had every fucking opportunity to emulate literally any character of your design who was not an unrepentant rapist. Whomst among us has not struggled with such quandaries? Whomst among us has not wondered: Should I rape women in the presence of my child, or should I just the fuck wait a minute and destroy my marriage by other means? Should I order a cinnamon bagel, or an egg sandwich? These are the questions men such as us must grapple with in a world where cancel culture has run rampant, and where people are liable to believe anything they hear from over half a dozen unbridled harpies (story idea! make sure Katee Robert doesn't see this, she seems like a bitch with designs) whose indeterminate fantasies have been aggressively fact-checked by risk-averse media legal departments.

You're right and everyone else is wrong, and that's exactly the take-away that everyone will have from reading this thing that you posted! Great work, great instincts, great writing. It's like Stardust, but hotter. You know what I mean.

A+ all around, no notes other than: you should share this with more people directly so they have the clearest possible idea of where you're coming from. Don't hold back, bud!

#advice #bad advice #neil gaiman #stardust #good omens #katee robert #this mf #honestly fuck this man #leave him #dtmfa

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angelluv16 · 3 months ago

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Rumor Has it⁵

✩: Kaia Jenner, the youngest Kardashian-Jenner, is an up-and-coming actress. When F1 driver Charles Leclerc casually calls her his favorite actress, the internet goes crazy. What starts as rumors turns into a whirlwind of drama, chemistry, and public scrutiny.

Part 5

faceclaim: Cindy Kimberly, girls from Pinterest

Want to be added to my taglist?: Click here

pairing: Charles Leclerc x Jenner!reader

request: no!!

warnings: Hate, fluff, Angst, Language,

previous part | Main Masterlist | next part

The doorbell rings, a sharp, unexpected sound that seems to echo through the house. My heart skips a beat, and for a moment, I just stand there, frozen, my hands nervously twisting the edge of my shirt.

It’s happening. He’s here.

Charles Leclerc. Coming to my house. To give me "swimming lessons". Or... something like that. I never imagined this kind of scenario would play out. Sure, I’ve been around famous people all my life, but this feels different. This feels... real.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. It's just swimming. It’s not a Formula 1 car. And it’s not like I’m some rookie—I've been swim racing since I was little, but still can't seem to be any good at it

Okay, Kaia, calm down. I repeat the words in my head like a mantra, but my heart is still racing as I head toward the door.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I grab the handle and pull it open. There he is.

Charles Leclerc. Standing on the other side of the door, looking effortlessly cool in a simple tee and shorts, his hair messily styled like it doesn’t even matter that he’s famous. His smile is warm, friendly, and surprisingly calming.

“Hey,” he says, his voice soft but clear. It’s comforting, and somehow, it makes me feel less like I’m about to drown in awkwardness. “Kaia, right?”

“Yeah. Hi.” My words feel too fast, a little breathless, but I try to shake it off. No big deal. “Sorry, I’m... not used to meeting people for swimming lessons.” I say using quotation marks around "swimming lessons"

Charles chuckles, the sound making me feel a little better. “Don’t worry. I’m sure you’re more than capable. But it’s not so much about swimming... It’s about winning North at swim racing.”

I blink, taken aback by the intensity behind his words, but his smile never wavers. It’s not intimidating, though. It’s just him—confident, calm.

“Right, racing,” I repeat, feeling a bit more grounded. “Guess I’m ready then?”

He gives me a knowing look. “You don’t need to be ready for the race. Just be ready to have fun.”

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. This isn’t so bad, I think to myself. Just a swimming lesson with one of the most famous racers in the world. No pressure.

But, as he steps inside, I can’t shake the feeling that this is the start of something... interesting.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

kaia.jenner posted on her story

{caption 1: Breaktime} {caption 2: #savekingfromthisguy @charlesleclerc}

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by charlesleclerc, kyliejenner, francisca.cgomes, charlotte2304, and 63,839,839

kaia.jenner: Pools days are the best 🌞🌊👙

view all comments

username16: this is what peak influencer-athlete duo looks like 🤭

username17: nah cause why is she actually the coolest jenner??

username18: pOoL dAyS aRe tHe bEsT" yeah girl we know, charles is there 💀

username19: she only gets attention cause of her last name

username20: Charles liking this in 0.2 seconds is sending me

username21: Charles liking this faster than DRS on a straight

lando: Don't drown

kaia.jenner: I almost did dw I'm good I can't leave yet😘

username22: mother is mothering once again 🔥

username23: imagine waking up and deciding to be effortlessly stunning, couldn’t be me

kaia.jenner: Don't say that, You're beautiful, stunning, gorgeous, I love you💕💕

charlesleclerc: Pool days > everything else. No debate.

username24: No bc if I looked like this I would never stop posting either 💅

username25: cause how is every pic in this dump a 10/10?! Some of us struggle to get ONE good pic 😭

username26: Not even that pretty, idk why people hype her up so much.

username27: LOLOL Insecure much?

username28: She’s the moment, she’s the blueprint, she’s EVERYTHING 👑

charlotte2304: STUNNING 💕💕 ❤ by kaia.jenner

username29: why does she always eat and leave NO crumbs?!

username30: The way I gasped… like, how is this real life?!

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

Kaia stretched out on a lounge chair, the sun warming her skin as she wrung out her wet hair. The lesson was an experience. She wouldn’t say she sucked at swim Racing, but she definitely wasn’t about to join the Olympics either. Charles, on the other hand, took his unofficial role as “swim coach” way too seriously, flirty teasing mixed with actual instruction, which made it impossible for her to focus.

Now, with the lesson over, they had both settled into a comfortable silence. Charles was lying on the chair beside her, arms crossed behind his head, eyes closed like he was soaking up every bit of warmth. The breeze was soft, carrying the scent of chlorine and something floral from the garden.

“So,” Kaia broke the silence, glancing at him. “Would you say I passed?”

Charles peeked one eye open, smirking. “Barely.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re a terrible teacher.”

“Excuse me? I’m the best teacher. I was very patient with you.”

“Yeah, because you had too much fun watching me almost drown.”

Charles laughed, turning his head to look at her fully. “I wouldn’t have let you drown.” He paused, his voice shifting to something softer. “You actually did better than you think.”

Kaia hummed, letting the compliment sit between them for a second.

They fell into silence again, but it wasn’t awkward. Just easy.

“You know, I expected you to be different,” she admitted after a moment.

Charles raised an eyebrow. “Different how?”

“I don’t know… more serious? You’re like, the guy in F1 right now. I thought you’d be all intense, obsessed with racing, talking about engines and tire degradation—”

Charles groaned, shaking his head. “That’s literally the worst topic outside of the track.”

Kaia laughed. “See? That’s what I mean. You’re more… normal than I expected.”

“Normal?” Charles scoffed. “I don’t think I’ve ever been called that before.”

“Take it as a compliment.”

He turned his head to look at her again, his expression thoughtful. “And what about you? You’re not what I expected either.”

Kaia raised an eyebrow. “What did you expect?”

“I don’t know.” He grinned. “Something closer to the typical influencer type. Someone who talks in brand deals and posts about ‘good vibes only.’”

She fake-gasped. “Are you saying I don’t give good vibes?”

“You give real vibes,” Charles corrected. “I like that.”

There was something in the way he said it casual, but with enough weight that Kaia felt her stomach flip. She looked away, pretending to focus on the sky.

“So,” she said, changing the subject. “Are you actually tired from today, or are you faking it so you don’t have to get back in the pool with me?”

Charles chuckled, shifting slightly. “I’m pacing myself. Don’t want to overwork my student.”

Kaia smirked. “Oh, so now I’m your student?”

“I mean, technically, you did invite me over for a lesson.” He sat up, resting his arms on his knees as he glanced at her. “But I’ll admit, this part just talking is nice too.”

She held his gaze, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah. It is.”

The sun dipped lower, casting golden light over them. The conversation flowed, moving from childhood stories to the dumbest things they’d ever done. And just like that, in the warmth of the afternoon, something unspoken settled between them, comfortable, effortless, and maybe a little dangerous.

Neither of them was in a rush to move.

Neither of them wanted to.

Taglist: @anamiad00msday @Ale-522 @sarx164@gottalovesae@meadhbhcavanagh@fulla02@fanficfanatic77@ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3@golden-hoax @poolclaws @hadidsworld@perfectmenarefictional@lottalove4evelyn@edgyficuselastica@nebarious@mbioooo0000@fanny2811@greantii@norstappenvibes@mary-op81@jiggly-puff-12 @Karmahnicolas @ana-23-03

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livelaughpeg · 9 months ago

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I'm writing this from a throwaway account, because you know...Scientology.

I want to preface this post by saying I am not one of those "I knew it all along!" people. I can't stand that attitude. I was pretty ambivelant towards Neil Gaiman. Prior to the allegations, I didn't hate him but I wasn't that interested in him as a person either. I don't think you can always tell when someone is a bad or good person simply by the topics they write about. If that was the case we'd be arresting every horror writer on earth.

But one thing that did always rub me up the wrong way was the way he talked about getting work.

I borrowed and read "Make Good Art" (a small book based on a speech he gave to graduates at the University of the Arts) at a time in my life that I was really struggling to get by (I still am to some extent, but in a different way). I expected to see some practical advice. Instead it was a bunch of glib shit like:

I got out into the world, I wrote, and I became a better writer the more I wrote, and I wrote some more, and nobody ever seemed to mind that I was making it up as I went along, they just read what I wrote and they paid for it, or they didn’t, and often they commissioned me to write something else for them. Looking back, I’ve had a remarkable ride. I’m not sure I can call it a career, because a career implies that I had some kind of career plan, and I never did. The nearest thing I had was a list I made when I was 15 of everything I wanted to do: to write an adult novel, a children’s book, a comic, a movie, record an audiobook, write an episode of Doctor Who… and so on. I didn’t have a career. I just did the next thing on the list.

Life is sometimes hard. Things go wrong, in life and in love and in business and in friendship and in health and in all the other ways that life can go wrong. And when things get tough, this is what you should do. Make good art. I’m serious. Husband runs off with a politician? Make good art. Leg crushed and then eaten by mutated boa constrictor? Make good art. IRS on your trail? Make good art. Cat exploded? Make good art. Somebody on the Internet thinks what you do is stupid or evil or it’s all been done before? Make good art. Probably things will work out somehow, and eventually time will take the sting away, but that doesn’t matter. Do what only you do best. Make good art.

Yeah, well, no shit. If you're a writer or artist you probably do anyway. Whether you get paid for it or not, whether you draw fan art or original art. But the point of Gaiman's speech was to give advice to people who wanted to be paid for their art. To make a career of it. Making art every day isn't always enough. You have to pay the damn rent, you have to eat, you have to network and do social media and promote yourself, and you have to do it while thousands of other people are doing the same thing in a massive crowd of people who want the same thing. Practical advice is much more valuable than platitudes and theory.

I am not a writer, I'm an illustrator, and let me tell you that for most people, 'getting your foot in the door' isn't a one time thing. Quite often you have to work at getting your foot in the door again and again until you become established, and it's very easy to be forgotten. I still feel like I'm in that stage now.

I watched my peers, and my friends, and the ones who were older than me and watch how miserable some of them were: I’d listen to them telling me that they couldn’t envisage a world where they did what they had always wanted to do any more, because now they had to earn a certain amount every month just to keep where they were. They couldn’t go and do the things that mattered, and that they had really wanted to do; and that seemed as a big a tragedy as any problem of failure.

The implication was that he was successful because he wrote every day and his friends weren't because they didn't, because you know, working a second job is tiring. He called this a tragedy, but there was something very glib about the way he narrated this.

I think someone had more financial cushion that he was letting on.

And yes, sometimes it does work that way, (some people are very lucky and make all the right connections) but Gaiman was getting Big Jobs right off the bat and something about that never smelt right to me after the way he talked about it.

And then I saw Jeff's tweets. Oh, that's why...

I suspect the truth is he was living off his family's money and connections, and while I don't think there's anything inherently wrong with that if you're a struggling artist, his family are Scientologists, and I don't think he ever struggled.

I suspect it's all a lie.

#neil gaiman #jeff vandermeer #twitter

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koishua · 11 months ago

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thinking about volleyball player!jaehyun in the haikyuu world, maybe playing for aoba johsai in an alternate timeline or wherever and you're his biggest supporter and lifeline :(

he had transferred schools from s. korea to japan in his first year of high school and had struggled to keep up with the language, so you'd helped him throughout the entire year, sharing notes and slipping answers from the seat right behind him. you'd tapped on his shoulder the day of his arrival, and from that moment on when he was startled awake while dozing off in a class he did not understand, the stone of your friendship started rolling. quite fast at that.

years would pass by and he'd become a sought-out volleyball player, scouted left and right for professional teams after high school and he'd always search for you in the stands. his eyes would sparkle when he spots you running inside, out of breath, clearly coming from something important and yet?? you still made time to be there for him?? jaehyun's eyes only sees you and you see your own reflection in his. no matter how much people throw themselves at him left, right, above and below, myung jaehyun can only ever look at you; the object of his desires, the center of his world, the greatest gift in his life.

meeting you, jaehyun believes, is what made his life turn for the better. along the way, he'd made many precious friends, all no thanks to his beyond charming personality and your interventions from time to time. still, not one of them come close to where you rest in his heart, the largest space reserved for you and only you.

and it's SO obvious. myung jaehyun is smitten by you. he's always been at least a little bit in love with you. everyone could tell that even if they didn't have any personal connections to either of you. and as much as he adores your very existence— myunjae practically worships the ground you walk on, is what his teammates would say— you can't help but fall in love with him as well. everything you do is for each other. out of love for one another. out of concern and worry. out of mutual respect. everything myungjae does is for you.

his fingers would point at your direction whenever he scores a point, countless pictures of this mini ritual of sorts (ever since his first match in high school up until the days of glory where news outlets would all report about his monumental achievements globally) being turned into compilations... his greatest accomplishment in life, whenever asked in an interview, would be meeting you and having you in his life. myungjae's fans are unique in a sense that they'd protect you as much as they'd protect him. even more, at times. to them, you are the sun that their planet jaehyun revolves around and they adore you for who you are and for what you mean to jaehyun :(((!

you'd once gotten admitted to a hospital because of a health issue and jaehyun, who'd scored the winning point, pointed not towards the stands, but at the camera pointing at his somber face, knowing that you'd be watching him even though you were supposed to be asleep, recuperating. fans had found out about your condition and had sent countless bouquets and notecards, wishing you a speedy recovery. not a single one had disturbed your privacy and a video would then go viral on the internet of jaehyun profusely thanking his fan for handing him a get well soon card in front of the hospital when he'd gone to visit you (able to recognize his masked face even from afar) dhfhhfhfbfb i just can't. i can't stop imagining this scenario y'all this au lives rent free in my brain someone write this out into a 50k worded fic

#bnd x reader #bnd imagines #myung jaehyun imagines #bnd fluff #bnd jaehyun #bnd jaehyun x reader #myungjae x reader #boynextdoor scenarios #bnd reactions #myung jaehyun fluff #jaehyun fluff #bnd headcanons

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coolprettyleo · 11 months ago

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the jokes weren't funny. - connor bedard ☆

wc: 627

tw: filming, drama, sadness, mean comments

ryan leonard x ex oc

connor bedard x oc

death by a thousand cuts au

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

frankie hughes felt like she couldn't catch a break for the life of her.

no matter how many times the girl thought her life was finally getting better, it only seemed to turn around and smack her right back down.

she sat in the las Vegas hotel room in tears as she read through the comments about the latest TMZ article that, of course, had to do with her.

someone had filmed her and connor outside the bar last night as they waited for their Uber, and the video was quite interesting, to say the least.

it started off with the two of them drunkenly dancing around from the muffled bar music, obviously intoxicated, which seemed to cause a stir amongst the media, seeing as they were both underage and were supposed to be 'role models'. it only got worse because the two young adults seemed to forget they were in public and made out with each other against the wall a little later on into the video.

the comments were brutal, and she couldn't help but think she deserved every single one.

what happened to her and ryan? they were so cute.

omg she's cheating

puck bunny at its finest

leonards too good for her anyways

why do i ship

maybe it wouldn't have been such a big deal, but people still believed she was with ryan. they hadn't given anyone to believe they were over, they hadn't unfollowed each other or removed the pictures of each other from their social media, so it was understandable why the world thought she was a cheater.

she had definitely felt like one. her heart still belonged to ryan, but she was sure he would want nothing to do with her once he caught sight of the video.

she felt completely helpless, so she resorted to doing nothing but curl up into a ball and cry. wondering why the hell she was the way she was.

she was cut off from wallowing in self-pity when her manager, darcy, called. knowing it was going to be nothing but a scolding, she answered because she most likely had a solution.

"hello?" she answered a bit timidly.

"hello. I'm assuming you've seen the video, and I'm calling to tell you it's going to be fine. you were bound to have a scandal at some point; I'm just happy it isn't rehab yet. anyways, we have two choices, we can put out a statement on your behalf, or you unfollow and remove every picture of ryan from your feed," darcy rushed out.

"I don't- I don't want to do that," frankie said, feeling tears begin to sting her eyes. she felt like that would make the breakup so much more real, and she knew she wasn't ready to do that yet.

"I'm afraid you don't have a choice, honey. you're still on the rise, and a big scandal this early into your career won't go well. it's better to put out the fire before it gets bigger," darcy explained to her.

"I just feel like it will blow over if we, like, let it," Frankie said.

"it wouldn't just blow over! unless..." darcy thought as frankie waited. anything would sound better to her at this point.

"i mean, i would have to get in contact with his team, but I'm sure they'd be on board. the internet loves a good crossover, just look at taylor swift and travis kelce-"

"what?" frankie asked, confused as to who or what she was saying.

"we could make the public think you and ryan have been separated for a while now," she said

"and how would we do that?" frankie asked, scared to hear the answer.

"you get into a pr relationship with connor bedard, of course!"

#nhl imagine #nhl imagines #hockey fic #ryan leonard #bc hockey #connor bedard x reader #connor bedard x oc #connor bedard #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes #quinn hughes #luke hughes #frankie x ryan #ryan leonard x reader

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undomesticated-animal · 4 months ago

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Honestly, body euphoria has done WONDERS for my ability to keep a physical self care routine, and I keep thinking back to Young Domi being so fucking OVERWHELMED by the thought of having to haul myself through the daily gauntlet of mirrors, lights, smells, self-shaming, and dysphoria inducing body modifictions made in a desperate bid to feel worthy of my skin. The idea that this could ever be anything but NEUTRAL AT BEST was laughable to me, so much so that I didn't even realize how terrified I felt by the possibility it could be real.

I can't go back and tell Past Domi all the things I understand now that I know would have mattered so much, but I can say them on the internet and maybe someone gets to learn them faster than I did.

Body euphoria isn't just for trans and intersex folks. And I mean this more than just "oh cis people should get gender ephoria too" (it's true!) because I also mean that the idea that body euphoria/dysphoria is neatly segmented up into little slices of life with no crossover is unrealistic and painful for everyone. Thinking that I was only allowed to care about my euphoria around gender actually made it REALLY hard to recognize I was having DYSphoria around my gender at all. After all, I avoided thinking about that in exactly the same ways I avoided thinking about the dysphoria around other aspects of my embodiment! I must just be bad at body positivity, "it's always easier to do for others than for myself 🤗 teehee" was a go to blow off for me when people asked me to confront how visibly uncomfortable I was in my body.

Because the thing is, it ISN'T easier to do for others than yourself. It really isn't. The part that's easier is avoiding the shame we feel about it. But once we confront the shame, loving your body is the easiest thing in the world. <- this is gonna be where Past Domi went "oh fuck this noise" and bounced but HEAR ME OUT

A body you cannot live with is a body you cannot care for, and a body you can't care for is a body you will almost always struggle to live with. This feedback loop is the CORNERSTONE of body dysphoria for a lot of people. It's a chicken and egg situation where it's nearly always going to be impossible to know what came first, but once either is present, the other will kick into gear to really hunker down in your psyche.

The feedback loop works the other direction too though. This is why people tell you to find the little things that make a tiny difference. They are (usually) not telling you that it'll be enough on its own, but every one of those you find uncovers new ones, and little by little you start feeling up to bigger pieces of self care because you've recovered enough to start putting int the front-loaded work for the worthwhile outcome

When that upwards feedback loop clicks? It's night and day. Like I genuinely don't know how to describe what it's like to just sort of.....wake up different. But it happens all the time, and it KEEPS happening. And you start to realize you're not "waking up different" you're just....getting to know yourself without feeling so uncomfortable with what you're learning that you shy away from yourself

I dunno man, I don't have a point here, but I've been processing old grief lately and the grief of how long I spent viciously hating myself and truly believing that's what neutrality feels like.....Little-Domi deserved better, and so do yall

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naebaetwsog · 15 days ago

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hiii, hope you're having a good day<3

i was wondering if you could write a scenario where tws gets into a dating scandal with another idol and reader gets jealous and ends up confessing their feelings for tws

feel free to choose the member :)

。＊It Was Always You °.

genre. fluff, mutual pinning, friends to lovers

warning. non

pairing . Tws!jihoon(idol) x fem!reader(non idol)

an. Thank you for your requests, the idea is incredibly so I made it right away. Hope you enjoy

⚠️I’m writing about a healthy kpop world so, there won’t be any sort of violent hate on idols for dating, just normal fans that let idols have a normal life!!!

You’ve known Jihoon since before the spotlight, before the fandoms, before the screaming crowds. Back when he was just a boy with big dreams and sore feet from hours in a dance studio. You were there through everything — his first classes, those for multiple agencies auditions, the day he got into the “Trainee A” project with a nervous smile and shaky hands.

You were there the day the project got canceled too. When the hope in his voice cracked and his dreams looked like they were slipping. You didn’t leave. You never left. When he got the call about debuting in TWS, when he wasn’t allowed to tell a soul — you were the first person he celebrated with. Hugging, laughing, jumping like kids in that same studio you’d always practiced in.

Now, he was a full-blown idol — part of one of HYBE’s hottest groups — and you were still by his side. As a part-time dancer, you worked gigs, trained with him sometimes, and you never let the fame change your dynamic. The other members loved you. You were his home base, his safe place.

But things weren’t always smooth.

———

One random day, the internet exploded: Dispatch posted photos of Jihoon interacting with a female idol backstage at an award show. Just a bow, a smile, maybe a few words exchanged. That was all. But somehow, it spiraled — “Jihoon spotted dating ___ idol??” “TWS Jihoon dating rumors confirmed?!”

You saw it all.

And you told yourself it didn’t matter. You were just his friend. You had no right to feel anything.

But your chest tightened. You couldn’t stop thinking about it. Why was he smiling like that? Why did people keep shipping them? Why were they acting like they knew him better than you?

And then — your phone lit up.

———

[Jihoon 🐣💥]

OMG I DIDNT EVEN DO ANYTHING

I LITERALLY JUST TALKED TO HER FOR 10sec

what do i do

i didn’t even wanted to talk to her it just happened

tell me what to do pls😭😭

———

He was panicking.

You texted back, reassured him, told him to breathe. He said he was asking his manager, following the company protocol. HYBE posted a denial. But it didn’t stop the rumors. It didn’t stop the fans. They loved the idea of him with her. They made edits. Wrote fanfics. Called them “couple of the year.”

And worst of all? Jihoon joked about it once during a live. Just a playful tease, but it stung.

You hated how it made your stomach twist.

———

One evening, the two of you were in the dance studio again. Just like old times. You’d already run the routine three times. Now you were on the floor, lying on your back, chest rising and falling. Jihoon was next to you, scrolling through his phone, laughing softly at something — like the world wasn’t chewing your heart up and spitting it out.

“Jihoon,” you said, quietly.

He hummed.

“You know about everything that’s happening… the shipping stuff?”

“Yeah,” he replied, eyes still on his screen. “Still won’t shut up about it.”

You hesitated. “How do you really feel about it?…would you actually date her?”

He shrugged. “I don’t feel anything. ‘Cause I know it’s not true. And no I wouldn’t ”

“…Hmm. I see,” you said, trying to sound neutral — but the bitterness was all over your voice.

Then he paused.

He turned his head, peering at you with a slow, sly smirk. “Wait. Wait wait wait. Are you… jealous?”

You didn’t say a word.

“No way,” he laughed, sitting up with a huge grin on his face. “YOU’RE JEALOUS? This is insane. Oh my God—”

“…Yeah,” you said flatly. “I am.”

And just like that — silence.

His laugh stopped mid-breath. He looked at you like you had just slapped him across the face and then kissed him.

“…You’re serious?”

You nodded, still staring at the ceiling. “I don’t like it. I don’t like how people talk about you with her. I don’t like how they ship you. I don’t like how she looked at you. I don’t like it at all.”

Jihoon didn’t move for a second. Then he sat cross-legged beside you.

“You like me,” he said, voice soft but a little smug.

“I didn’t say that.”

“You’re jealous over someone I don’t even know. That’s basically a confession.”

You finally looked at him, lips pressed into a tight line. “Well maybe I am confessing. What now?”

His grin dropped into something softer. Eyes wide. A little scared. A little amazed.

“…Then I’m kissing you,” he whispered.

And he did.

He leaned down, hand on the floor beside your head, and kissed you — gently, like he’d been waiting a long time but didn’t want to mess it up. It was soft, warm, and way too short.

When he pulled back, he was red as a tomato and smiling like an idiot.

“I’ve loved you since forever,” he mumbled. “You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted.”

You bit your lip. “You gonna tell that to Dispatch too?”

He chuckled. “Actually… yeah. Kinda.”

———

A few days later, Jihoon went live. No names, no drama — just honesty.

“I want to clear something up — again. I’m not dating the person people think I am. I don’t even know her. Please stop spreading stuff like that.

If I ever do date someone, I want people to know it’s real. That it didn’t start because of a 5-second clip or a blurry photo.

I want it to be with someone who’s been with me through everything. Someone I’ve danced with, laughed with, cried with. Someone who stuck around before the debut, before the fame.

And if that ever happens… maybe I’ll write a song about her.”

And that night, you sat alone in the studio, phone in your hand, watching the clip.

He didn’t say your name. He didn’t have to.

You already knew the song was about you.

!Bonus!

It starts small. Jihoon thinks he’s being subtle.

But the thing about TWS is… they know everything. He’s not slick.

⸻

[Scene: Practice Room]

Y’all are just vibing like usual. You walk in with your hair a little messy, Jihoon is already there stretching. He sees you and that boy’s face lights up like a whole LED strip.

And Shinyu? He catches it immediately.

“Bro. Why do you look like a golden retriever seeing its owner?”

Jihoon throws a towel at him, “Shut up.”

“You shut up,” Youngjae adds, smirking. “You just fixed your hair in the mirror three times before she walked in. Be so real.”

You’re laughing nervously in the back while Jihoon is pretending to be unbothered, stretching aggressively like he’s not blushing red behind the ears.

Later, when y’all take a water break and you and Jihoon are sitting on the floor whispering about literally nothing—

Hanjin: “They think we don’t see them. It’s so cute.”

Dohoon: “It’s giving… romantic drama episode 12 when the confession happens and the next morning they act like nothing happened.”

Kyungmin, quietly recording them: “This is for evidence when they say they’re ‘just friends’ again.”

They’re literally so unserious about it. Jihoon flips out.

“Yah! Delete that!!”

“Say ‘please’ lover boy,” Kyungmin smirks.

It’s endless.

⸻

!Bonus 2!: Fans Figuring It Out

This is where it gets scary. Fans are geniuses.

At first, they brush off Jihoon’s statement, disappointed but respectful.

Then… the threads begin.

⸻

Fan thread: 🧵 “Why I think Jihoon from TWS is dating someone else and it’s NOT the idol he was rumored with 👀”

1. Timestamped Video:

“During this one dance practice, Jihoon keeps glancing off camera. Multiple times. He’s smiling at someone not in frame. We know the room layout. That’s the mirror side. Who’s he smiling at??”

2. Matching Items:

“He wore that black hoodie like five times this month. Guess who was spotted wearing the exact same one at a convenience store by a fan? A dancer who was on set for a TWS shoot. Coincidence?? 🤨”

3. Secret Playlist Name:

“During a VLive, his phone screen turned on for a second and fans saw a playlist name blurred out — when enhanced, it kinda looks like a nickname we’ve heard him use for a certain someone… 😭”

4. That One Slip Up:

“In a behind-the-scenes clip, Youngjae says ‘you should just bring her next time’ and Jihoon goes 👁️👄👁️ and everyone goes silent before Shinyu claps loudly and yells ‘ANYWAY—’”

⸻

Top comment:

“This ain’t even a thread anymore it’s a full FBI investigation. I’m invested.”

Second top comment:

“I don’t ship idols with randoms, but if this is true… she’s literally been his ride or die since day one. I support this.”

Before long, fans start lowkey rooting for you two. They call you “Jihoon’s muse.” They make edits with old dance clips. They’re saying things like:

• “He’s smiling like someone in love 🥹”

• “This is realer than any idol couple I’ve seen before.”

• “This is what it looks like when you fall for your best friend.”

Some even go back to that old Dispatch post and start commenting:

“Wrong girl, bestie.”

⸻

Final bonus!!

Jihoon, watching all the theories unfold:

😳 “How do they know everything…?”

You, sipping your drink and scrolling through stan Twitter:

😌 “I plead the fifth.”

And the rest of TWS?

They’re just waiting for the official couple reveal so they can say “we told you so” in unison.

#tws #tws kpop #tws imagines #tws headcanons #tws scenarios #jihoon x reader #tws han jihoon #jihoon imagines #jihoon headcanons #tws jihoon #jihoon x you #jihoon fluff #han jihoon #jihoon scenarios

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not-poignant · 4 months ago

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Hi,

I'm not sure how to approach this without sounding like an ignorant asshole, but I'll give it a go.

I'm from a country where the Trans movement isn’t very visible, and most of what I know about it comes from the internet. I’ve never truly understood gender dysphoria. I’ve tried to listen and put myself in others' shoes, but I struggled to be genuinely empathetic. Instead, I just tried to be supportive because it was expected of me, without really getting it.

It might sound silly, but reading Underline the Black made me stop and think… Wait, is this what I think it is? Reading Efnisien’s internal monologues and introspection made me feel something—maybe not from the same circumstances, but in a way that something inside my brain clicked, and I finally saw where the pain was coming from.

I guess what I really want to say is thank you. Thank you for helping me begin to understand and for broadening my perspective. It might sound small, but it’s something I deeply appreciate. I’ve been trying for a long time.

I do feel a bit foolish realizing that it took an ABO fanfic for me to get it… but at the same time, I was also reading about your real-life experiences. Or at least, that’s how it seemed to me. Forgive me if I’m wrong.

You have an incredible talent for expression.

Anon, until you know otherwise, everyone has to start somewhere. This applies to unlearning our biases and prejudices, which we all have for something, or many things, until we unlearn them. The fact that you've even tried to be supportive of something you don't really understand is still important, and still matters. It's a step into understanding, even if you don't have it yet.

I don't think it's foolish that it took you a story to realise what you've realised! This is actually exactly why representation of diversity (in gender, sexuality, culture, race, etc.) is so important in fiction. Because it's in fiction we can be free to explore concepts that are different to our own, or that challenge us, or make us see the world differently. This is why it's so important to know it's possible to identify with a trans character, or a POC character, or a character from a different culture to ours etc. Because that's when we humanise what we previously saw as like, different, Other, hard to understand. We go 'oh that's...really relatable actually, I think I'd feel the same way if that was my experience of life' or 'I don't know if I'd feel the same way but I really understand where that person is coming from.'

Gender dysphoria is complex, and different for different people. Being able to write it metaphorically through Efnisien's journey has been really interesting for me personally, because I've been able to depict both the inner conflict of knowing that your being is not...automatically going to be accepted as normal no matter what, unless you stifle or suffocate yourself, alongside the true euphoria and joy that can come with living as your best life, or your very self.

I have once seen a good analogy which is simply: Imagine from tomorrow onwards, everyone uses the pronouns you don't associate with yourself. You are bullied and mocked unless you wear clothing that is opposite to how you want to appear to others. You are put down and treated as psychologically abnormal for finding joy in true expression, even when that expression doesn't actually hurt anyone else at all. And now tell yourself that even your loved ones, when you desperately try to explain how wrong it all feels to be treated as so different to your true self, they explain that it's just mental illness, or that you're just confused, or that you don't understand yourself, and condescend to you, and treat you like they somehow have always known you better than you know yourself. And that's when you realise you might have to choose between your true self, and your family and loved ones who don't understand, or worse, hate you.

And then imagine that's the rest of your life, but it could change in an instant, if all of society just accepted that you are who you say you are! That all of your depression, and oppression, and suffocation could literally just vanish, if everyone was like 'oh sure actually, you want those pronouns? Cool! You want to wear this clothing? I like it!!'

And that journey is very tough in the real world, even in more accepting places (the US is clear evidence of this). In Underline the Black, I get to put Efnisien in a very specific space, and show the journey in a kind of specific way that isolates it and speaks through metaphor.

My experiences are different to Efnisien's, though I am trans, I never actually started out wanting to write a 1:1 trans narrative. Like, in this universe, "conventionally" trans people exist too. Efnisien's experience is a new thing, and a separate thing, but still - as we can see - a very good metaphor as well. I like telling parts of my story, but only small parts. I am more interested in...telling healing stories where I can watch a character heal and go 'oh I would like more of that for myself, as well.'

(Also, it's better to just say omegaverse, or AOB, etc. because a/b/o without the dashes is a slur in Australia, and while I know most people don't live here! We try to avoid slurs from other countries when we can. And we can only know to do that once someone tells us!)

But yeah, no, you don't sound like an ignorant asshole at all. You sound like someone who has learned something, and has gained more understanding, and was open to doing that, and honestly anon if more people came to something they didn't understand from your perspective, acceptance and love would be a lot easier to teach people.

It's so important to read stories about characters who aren't quite like us, or aren't like us at all, because that's when we realise just how much we actually do share so many similarities, and why our differences matter too.

Anyway thank you for sharing your message with me! I really appreciated it.

#asks and answers #underline the black #underline the rainbow #efnisien ap wledig #i do really think this stuff is like...#you can't know until you know - in a way #that doesn't mean you have to live the experience #but fiction gives us this unique ability to live in the mind of a character #this is why Bardic storytelling was so important (among other reasons)#these narratives allow us to exist outside of ourselves and within ourselves #it is for me a way to tell healing stories while i'm in a life of healing #and sometimes it's a way to be like #this is what it is to be trans #this is what it is to be disabled #this is what it is to be oppressed #and sometimes these things are more relatable than we realised they were #administrator gwyn wants this in the queue

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midnightshindig · 3 months ago

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hiii this isn’t a request i just wanted to counter ur post abt being a cecil apologist 😭😭 i know cecil isn’t wrong when it comes to his point abt being tje good guys or saving the world. like with how many L’s mark takes i would lowk do the same. but think of it from marks pov it’s hard to just tolerate someone that tried to kill you. cecil just handled the situation very poorly by refusing to communicate properly with mark. nothing extreme would’ve happens if cecil just have mark a two minute lecture on what he went through. and it was extremely unfair of cecil to expect mark to understand something as complex as this after a simple order when it took cecil three years in prison to learn the same thing. i’m not saying cecil is wrong for having a contingency but he’s wrong for immediately whipping it out when he should’ve deescalated 🗿

AHHH this has been in my drafts for WEEKS- oh my god fucking object permanence- what's that?

ugh okay so like this is a long one, everything under this line is the og draft I wrote in its entirety (written like two days after episode 3 dropped):

Okay- I should preface this with: I love arguing on the internet about shit that doesn't matter, your opinions are valid and you're 100% allowed to interpret this piece of media this way.

Okay so now i'm gonna break down season 3 episode 2's conflict between Mark and Cecil and explain myself better;

(preface: I believe strongly in prison reform and am a big advocate that almost all crime is systemic, and that anybody can be rehabilitated. This belief system colors how I interact with media. I'm around Mark's age so I won't use that as an excuse for his character, but I will take it into account)

So episode one kicks off their fight with Mark busting into Cecil's office. It looks like he's gone through the proper channels, and Cecil willingly let him in. Cecil is willing to see Mark, even knowing why he's there (via Darkwing II's warning). Mark bursts in, an aggressive tone, accusatory pointing finger, all at Cecil.

Cecil tells Mark in a stern, warning voice to calm down, Mark responds by approaching more and slamming his hands onto Cecils desk. No matter how you cut it, that's aggressive. Even if you and I know that Mark is a good person, and didn't come here to murder Cecil, that's still an aggressive act.

Mark is clearly upset about D.A. Sinclair, and Cecil gives him a-- very reasonable-- explanation that he can't fix his mistakes in prison. The idea of these people fixing their mistakes is so foreign to Mark-- rehabilitation is such a non-option to him, that he responds with "What are you even talking about?" Anything less than the fairy tale ideal of bad guys rotting mindlessly in prison isn't on the table for Mark. This is because he was raised by Nolan, with a very empirical view of morality and authority. Those who broke the law died or went to prison. End of story.

Mark expresses his disbelief that D.A Sinclair in particular can do good, that his mistakes cannot be rectified due to the continued impact they have on people. Cecil responds to this by assuring him that every reaniman D.A. Sinclair makes is from a donated corpse. He isn't hurting anyone else. It is HEAVILY implied that the "severe psychological reprogramming" Cecil mentions is straight-up psychological torture. Mark just. Isn't listening. He doesn't have the space in his head for an alternative worldview.

To Mark, the last time an authority figure tried to 'broaden his perspective', was when his father pummeled him into a mountain. It makes sense Mark is acting this way, but Mark is a child. Mark's superpowers don't make him qualified to decide right from wrong, Mark is not an elected or chosen official, and he hasn't even really been to college. He doesn't know where the Declaration of Independence is.

Cecil explains his rationale, that these people are repaying their debt. DA Sinclair could be in prison making license plates, or he could be making soldiers that save lives like they do twenty minutes earlier in the same episodes. and Mark's response? "That's bullshit and you know it" Like, not even an argument. He's just, angry. Which is fine! Mark is a teenager grappling with things he shouldn't have to, but that isn't Cecil's fault either.

Cecil tries to get Mark to think differently, asking if he should arrest Mark. This is where we see Mark's tangled internal logic, he can justify it however he wants, but the fact remains that Darkwing II killed for the same reasons Mark did, to ultimately save people and make the world a safer place. Mark didn't have a choice, or he didn't mean to, which is worse?

Cecil extends and olive branch, asking Mark very nicely to go home. Mark doesn't leave. This is a telling moment. Objectively, Cecil doesn't owe Mark anything. He gave him an explanation, he sympathized with Mark's concerns and validated the ethics of his operation. Mark is only able to continue his verbal assault on Cecil because... who's going to stop him? No conversation can happen in good faith under that kind of power dynamic.

ONLY after Mark tells Cecil "uh fuck you I do what I want and I'm not leaving until you do what I say" does Cecil even enter the white room. the room meant exclusively to protect Cecil. EVEN AFTER HES IN THE ROOM, Cecil gives Mark an "out", and tells him to go home before Mark does something he'll regret. It isn't a direct threat, it's simultaneously a threat and a genuine warning. Attacking Cecil starts Mark down a moral path that's hard to turn back from.

I want to note that throughout all of this, Cecil is levelheaded and calm, while Mark is gesturing and aggressive in his stances, and yelling nonstop.

Cecil says "please go" which, knowing Cecil in context of seasons 1 and 2, is likely a genuine plea for Mark to not have to become an enemy. Cecil doesn't WANT Mark to become another aggressive Viltrumite. He asks Mark SO nicely. and Mark is still in his battle stance, unwavering.

On to episode two!

I'm choosing to ignore Cecil's backstory, since this information isn't directly brought up and isn't available to Mark.

Cecil tells Mark the white room is for Cecil's protection, and we get that line again from Mark

"What are you even talking about?"

Mark is so insular, so isolated in his worldview that he cannot comprehend that yeah, duh, a totally normal old man would find it TERIFYING that you, a viltrumite teenager, are encroaching on him with aggressive body language and a raised voice. Me? I'd be fucking terrified. My boyfriend is like 6 5" and built like a fridge, he's strong as shit and has been since he was a kid. One of the things intimidating strong people learn is that they have to watch themselves, when you're so much stronger than everyone else, you don't get to show up and throw your arms around and yell and scream and point fingers when you're mad. It's unfair to Mark, but it's terrifying to Cecil. And Mark isn't even self-aware enough to know how scary he is on a conceptual level. He's so emotionally removed from what a viltrumite even is that he can't comprehend that he's capable of the same damage his father did to Chicago.

Cecil tries to explain this concept to Mark, and Mark responds with "Okay but I ONLY use my powers for good", he isn't able to even CONSIDER that to anybody who isn't him, that's not a guarantee. Omniman was good until he wasn't. Who's to say it couldn't happen again? Notice how not a single reaniman touches Mark in this scene. This is important for later.

Cecil is banking on his authority as an adult, lecturing Mark like a bratty child, with his hand on his hip. He can't show Mark the amount of power he has over Cecil or Mark WILL take advantage of it. There can't be a world where a nineteen-year-old strongarms a military official. Not to Cecil. Cecil calls Mark on his shit, and shames him for abusing his power and being closeminded, then he shares a vulnerability. Mark is scaring the shit out of him right now.

Mark responds by freaking out more, and the SPECIFIC LILT OF HIS VOICE- ugh. It reminds me of when later in the season when Mark is scolding Oliver. "I'm not even doing anything!!" while throwing his arms in the air in his superhero suit, eyebrows furrowed and his voice like a whiny child being told to knock it off.

He approaches Cecil, and a reaniman grabs him by the arm. This is meant to detain Mark, NOT hurt him.

Mark responds by going "you're not the boss of me" (in effect, not direct language) and SMASHES THE REANIMAN.

I have beef with the whole "Cecil doesn't try an talk to Mark" angle, Cecil is watching Mark crash and burn through the creatures he EXPLICITLY says are only meant to protect him, and offers to talk to Mark. He tells Mark that he isn't keeping his operations a secret from anyone within his facilities, that this is par for the course within the GDA, and this is his attempt to de-escalate. Calm down, this isn't a fight worth having, let's just talk.

MARK engages this fight, MARK refuses to talk. The scene of Mark post-destroying the reanimen is almost a one-to-one of the s1e1 frame of Nolan after killing the guardians. This is a direct parallel. There needs to always be a bigger fish.

and instead of continuing to argue about the actual issue, instead of bringing up DA Sinclair or Darkwing or actually trying to be productive, or demanding Cecil go public. He asks

"Is that all you got?"

at this point Mark is picking a fight, and making it clear that this is now an aggressive encounter. He's demanding Cecil show him everything in his arsenal, implying no matter what it is, Mark will mow it down and get to Cecil.

I am FLOORED by the way Cecil says "I wish you hadn't asked that, kid."

NOTE Cecil calling Mark, kid. he's still offering him the grace of being considered a foolish kid and not an intentionally menacing adult. Adults don't get to be this type of threat, they don't get extended the grace a rowdy teenage rebel does. Cecil is offering another olive branch to Mark, so that he can still turn away and be protected under the 'kid' moniker.

and we get the reveal of a room FULL of reanimen. Who didn't move until initiated. Who Mark plows through like nothing.

Mark threatens Cecil, and Cecil calls him out on his hypocrisy "I thought you don't do threats?"

Mark, AGAIN, instead of being able to recognize conflicting world views or broaden his perspective, bitterly and dismissively goes "Yeah? Well people change."

WHICH IS FUCKING INFURIATING

especially since twenty minutes ago Mark was arguing that people CANT change and that trying to change bad people was a worthless pursuit.

Cecil warns him literally "Don't, Mark, i'm warning you."

at this point Cecil has told Mark to stand down or else, SO MANY TIMES, slowly increasing the severity of the defense mechanisms.

I find it VERY interesting that Cecil explains, in detail, what and why Mark is being hurt. He gives Mark all the information on his earpiece. Why? For power. To show Mark exactly what is happening and that he can't stop it. Mark needs a taste of powerlessness, to curb the unchecked God complex he's struggling with. There needs to be a bigger fish. Then Cecil releases the mind fuck thing. and tells him to be reasonable and go home

Marks response? "We are so far past reasonable"

WE. We are so far past reasonable. This shows that Mark is lumping himself in with Cecil, that somewhere in him he knows this is insane, jumping and cornering a man like this? This isn't right. He knows that.

But he also makes it clear to Cecil that this is now something Mark has to "see through" and not something he's willing to talk about.

Mark hasn't mentioned DA Sinclair or Darkwing once in episode 2, it's not even the core focus anymore

now, to Mark, it's about power. It's about Cecil acting like he has authority and power over Mark, and like any other teenager who feels like their opinion is being ignored, he lashes out

but again. When you're god, you don't get to lash out.

Cecil is TERRIFIED. I hear a lot of "Cecil wasn't mature enough" BROTHER IS FEAR. bro probably pissed his pants.

Cecil explains to Mark WHY he puts it in his head, that he still believes Mark isn't his dad, so stop acting like him. Cecil keeps giving Mark out after out, olive branch on the olive branch. And Mark is so caught up in his own sense of ego and power and betrayal that he feels truly helpless for the first time since season one, can't even hear him. He doesn't even let Cecil finish his sentence.

I find it very interesting that Mark goes to the GHQ, knowing they're on Cecil's payroll. Mark really has nobody else to turn to. He goes, specifically, to Rudy. He trusts that Rudy will do the right thing and help him.

Cecil immediately tries to disengage the guardians, saying he isn't going to kill the kid. Note the repeated use of kid. Kid is affectionate. I'm not going to kill the kid, it implies that he still has some kind of emotional attachment, killing a kid would be insane, it shows he's still extending that protection that being called a kid offers. even now, Cecil is offering him an olive branch.

Cecil tells Mark he's coming back to the GDA, and only when Mark refuses three times does Cecil use force. It seems brutal, like, stuff in his brain? How AWFUL. but also? There's not really any other way to hurt the guy.

Only once Mark has proven REPEATEDLY that not only is he not open to discussion, he isn't even open to peace, does Cecil enact any true violence against him.

Cecil calls Mark an "arrogant little asshole" and calls him on his hypocritical bullshit. and then Mark chokes him so hard he coughs up blood.

You can argue about the semantics of who is right morally, but Cecil made every attempt to calmly engage Mark, escalating slowly and only in response to the threat levels he perceived in Mark. To criticize Cecil for not being calmer or not deescalating undermines the point of why he does it: He's human. He's scared. Of course we can sit here and say, oh Cecil should've told him, or Cecil should've blah blah blah

Cecil doesn't report to Mark. Mark isn't the law, he doesn't get to decide the law any more than any other civilian does. Cecil doesn't owe Mark shit past basic decency, and he gives him that, Cecil gives Mark more grace than I would have. And we know his fears aren't baseless, either, the second Cecil stops defending against Mark, MARK CHOKES HIM SO HARD HE COUGHS UP BLOOD. It's a huge purple bruise on his throat.

but Mark is a child who has no business putting himself above the law and above peaceful conversations. He could've told others without directly confronting and attacking Cecil. Mark could have demanded answers, and then gone and acted on his own. He could've contacted local police, the news, the GotG, anyone else to make this a more fair protest of Cecil's actions. But Mark knows he's hot shit. He knows that- up until episode two- he was untouchable. and he flagrantly abuses this power. All Cecil does is respond.

and still continue to offer him grace, up until he just can't.

Uh thank you for coming to my ted talk <3

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utdr-fractured · 2 months ago

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Hi I know its not about the gang but I wanna ask, who are you behind the blog?

Cuz, your art style and your design on the kfc gang is really familiar like I feel like I seen it somewhere. If it's your only blog on Tumblr then I have seen it somewhere on the other site.

Anyways, have a good day :D

Oof, okay, so this is going to cringe me out so much when I answer this... But I'm doing it for you, plus they say embarrassment helps people grow so here we go!

First off, when I started this blog two months ago I also posted it onto Deviant Art, but ended up deleting it after like a day because it SUCKED. I don't know what happened to that platform but, wow, it was sad to see how much it spiraled. I've only posted here ever since, but I do plan on creating a Bluesky this week as a backup platform for the comic!

However, throughout my entire life (Primarily tweens through late teens) I've had countless accounts where I posted my art... All under different usernames and most I can't even remember! I've been on Instagram, Tumblr, DeviantArt, etc. Any platform that I could post art to really. I never really got many views so I would be surprised if you really did see my stuff before.

I did have a previous Undertale comic that I only made like 3 pages of lolol. It was called The Last Timeline, but again, it never got a lot of views. My art style has changed drastically since then but maybe you could find similarities? I'm really hesitant to even post anything about it because I purged the comic and all my old art off the internet because tasdFHKdjsahjkdfgdf It's embarrassing! (I'll think the same thing about this comic come 10 years I'm sure). I'm looking at one of the pages for the old comic right now and I can't stop cringing. Though, this was before Deltarune even released so Kris would not have been in any of my art at the time, I think this was around 2017. My art style and designs also aren't exactly the most unique thing in the world, which isn't me putting myself down or anything! It's just that I'm creating something based off of an already existing game that has a huge fanbase. I'm sure there's going to be overlapping ideas designs! The amount of times I've seen Kris in a green sweatshirt with a black hoodie underneath is high lol

Annnnnywhooooo.... Uhm... That's... my lore kinda I guess? Hahaha! I do want to create an "About the MOD" info sheet so you all can get to know me a little better though!

I think the one account I used to post to the most frequent was VanillaRose658 (Specifically that one, I know there are other accounts with similar names) but again, I have since purged that off the web! =D

A lot of you send me asks that I feel terrible answering because I reply with large blocks of text, I'm so sorry!!! It's just that some of these questions are hard for me to answer with shorter replies!!! I love all the questions no matter what, but I'm sorry if it's not what you're expecting!!! :c

#ask #anon ask #undertale comic #deltarune comic #deltarune #undertale #mod answers

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foxonrollerskates · 10 days ago

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Heres my vent/rant/unoriginal take for everyone: I'm just over the internets insistence on negative hyperbole. I hate how clickbait-y drama language has not only infected nearly every video on youtube/tiktok, but peoples actually speech.

Are you having the worst day ever, or are you having a few minor inconveniences? Are they actually the worst person ever, or do you just find them annoying? Do you hate this thing, or do you just not like it? These distinctions matter I promise! I'm not gonna sit here and say "oh you don't actually hate this thing uwu", I genuinely find those kinds of posts annoying. I'm just asking you to think about it.

It matters because constantly surrounding yourself with negative language will make you more miserable. This isn't the only reason people are miserable, obviously. Life sucks for multiple reasons for everyone. But constantly talking about how much life sucks, how much people are terrible, how nothings worth it and its all slop, doesn't fucking help!

You want a way to become less miserable? Become an optimist. I'm fucking serious. And throw away the notion that optimism is all naive sunshine and rainbows that doesn't acknowledge all the suffering of the world. Being able to recognize the pain others and you experience is the key to optimism. Optimism is recognize all the horrible things in life and knowing that it can change and become better. You will never find a solution if you don't believe it can change, you will never be happy if all you do is wallow in misery. Having hope will save your life I swear.

I'm not saying you shouldn't or can't vent. Being able to do so is essential for good mental health. But it can't be the only thing you do. Recognizing the good things in life, accepting and being thankful for the kindness from your friends/family/strangers is also essential. I know I sound like a boomer wellness influencer, but hear me out.

I was majorly depressed and suicidal through out elementary and middle school, I used to be like that. I used to believe I was a terrible person, unlovable, and everything I made/did sucked, and I acted like it. I never accepted praise, affection, kind acts, or compliments from anyone. I would counter these positive affirmations with stuff like "no lol it sucks aren't I terrible?" And I was miserable. I'll be honest, I don't know what triggered it, but I had the epiphany of "Hey maybe thinking that everyone who's nice to me is lying to save my feelings because they secretly hate is kinda unrealistic." All that stuff about being some sort of evil person suddenly felt cringe as fuck. So I started to accept people's compliments on my work and myself, and genuinely believe them. Not necessarily that I was pretty or whatever, but if that's what they say they think, then that's what they think. Instead of going, "oh no I don't deserve you're help I'm just a burden" I just accepted peoples help and expressed my gratitude. It wasn't all at once, and it was a slow go, but I did it. And you wanna know what happened? Do you wanna take a fucking guess? I became happier!!! Significantly happier!!! I hated myself less! Crazy, I know. I still am depressed and suicidal, it is a mental illness. But not giving into doomerism everything sucks and everybody hates me spirals genuinely helped me manage my symptoms. My friends and family love me because they say they do and they prove that to me all the time!!!

I am grabbing you by the shoulders you cannot little shit pessimist edgelord your way into a better life. Be honest with yourself; are you actually being realistic? Or are you just trying to get the first punch in? I used to think this way because I was a hurt kid and I thought it was protecting me, but it wasn't! It was just hurting me and those around me. Yeah, surprisingly constantly being an edgelord does hurt those around you. Like, by denying every bit of joy that comes your way, you are making other people miserable too. Everytime you shoot down someone expressing joy you are hurting their feelings. Everytime you deny people reaching out to you, you are hurting them. You. Are. Hurting. People.

And if your in a space that encourages this behavior? Get out! Get the fuck out! Those spaces are horrible for your mental health! You are putting yourself further into the fucking pit.

Nobody's gonna think "wow, you're so enlightened and such a realist" when you're being a miserable pessimist, they're gonna think "wow! This person is miserable!" And they're not gonna want to hangout with you. Or, alternatively, "Hey, why does my friend not believe me when express my love from them :(? Am I doing something wrong? Am I a bad friend? Does what I say mean nothing?" Because, y'know, having all attempts to express you love and appreciation for someone dismissed doesn't feel fucking great! And to be frank? Its annoying. This "noooo I don't deserve any kindness or love I'm a horrible person uwu" self-flagellation martyrdom bullshit gets real old, real fast. What? You want them to agree with you? Those are your friends, why do you WANT them to hate you? You think that's gonna protect you? Beating yourself down doesn't stop other people from doing it, it just pushes away the people who care about you. Everyone deserves love and support, but no one should force themselves to hang around someone who refuses to stop wallowing in self pity because its genuinely exhausting. If you act unlovable, you will become unlovable. If you act like everything sucks, everything will suck. You are in a self fulfilling prophecy.

You don't need to be perfect to deserve anything, people are giving you love because they love you! You deserve it. Please, I am begging you all to look at the kindness in front of you from people who WANT TO love you! They WANT TO help you! You have to let them. I am so tired of seeing the people I love lose themselves in a self imposed prison of misery. You will make mistakes, you will have set backs and relapses and it will hurt and be awkward and slow, but by fucking god you have to start. You have to start letting yourself feel joy and love. You will feel happier, I promise. It will get better, I promise. You have to believe it can change. You have to believe it gets better. You deserve better, let yourself have that.

And if you're reading this and going "oh yeah, this applies to other people but not me. I'm actually a terrible person unlike everybody else" I'm gonna stop you right there because surprise I used to think that way too, this applies to you.

I'll be blunt: you are not special. You are not some uniquely tragic irredeemable monster. Be so for real. You are a human person like the rest of us, ergo you deserve love and kindness like the rest of us. And lets be real here, pretending that you are some unchangeable villian is a real fucking convenient excuse to not try and be better.

And I'm sorry if this is mean and aggressive, but being coddled and cooed at never helped me. Realizing my self pity wasn't helping, realizing I was apart of the problem, did. I'm not expecting this post to radically change anyone's lives or something, but I just need to get this off my chest.

So uh. Yeah. Maybe talk about something you like today.

#I'm sorry for the rant but it just frustrates me to no end #i see myself in these people because i was like them once #and i got better!!! my life got better!!! i am living proof that things can improve please listen to me!!!!#you are so close #come out of the cave there are people waiting for you outside with open arms #long post #long rant #fox's posts

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imagineanime2022 · 5 months ago

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A True Friend

Caspian Keyes X GN!Reader

Word Count: 776

Requested: Anon @kalebell46

Request: On god please I need more Caspian Keyes fan fiction. This internet is so dry, there's like none out there. Could be of a him x reader while he's finding himself, the first real friend in his life that isn't there by the choice of someone else. And he'd be so paranoid about it too. Gooooodddddd please. AND I would love for a caspian fic please there are none

Caspian had been alone for so long, since he was young he had always been the outsider, the black sheep, the target and he thought that was how it was going to be for the rest of his school life. That is until he met (Y/N). Now (Y/N) for all intents and purposes probably wasn’t the best example for Caspian, they got into trouble, paid around and never listened to anyone who assumed that they knew better than them. Except when they were with Caspian, who they had only met because they needed tutoring.

(Y/N) wasn’t stupid though most people treated them that way, in fact they had a basic grasp on most things that were taught in class, they just didn’t seem to get it down on paper very well. Caspian was asked to tutor them and the rest followed with time, tutoring sessions turned into skateboard races and trips to the comic book store. Caspian learned quickly that his new companion was not stupid as he had heard a lot of the others in their year saying so he did make sure that some of their time was dedicated to bringing up his grades, in the end it didn’t matter though.

The world crumbled around Caspian as he found out about the real reason behind his birth, with his father gone and his mother keeping more of a watchful eye on him then usual, the only place he thought he might even be a little bit safe was with (Y/N) but then the thought crossed his mind… What if you had something to do with Logarithm's little experiment. That was why he stood outside your door hand hovering to knock, he jumped when you opened it smiling at him “what are you doing?” They asked “thought you were going to knock but you seemed like you were thinking about something.” They stepped to the side giving him space to come in but he didn’t move. “What?” “Are you really my friend?” He asked. “Really your friend?” They asked “of course I am.” “Really because I just found out a lot about myself that doesn’t make sense.” He answered. “Okay talk me through it.” They prompted stepping out and closing the door behind them. “I found something on my computer, they’ve been watching me.” Caspian answered. “They’ve been watching you?” They asked frowning, you were either genuinely confused or very good at acting. “Logarithms!” He answered more frustrated at having to explain himself at all. “Logarithms? Caspian you're going to have to start from the beginning if you want me to understand, remember I’m the slow friend.” They reminded him as he looked at you, that seemed to calm him down as he spoke again. “Don’t call yourself slow.” He grumbled, they shrugged as they looked at him waiting for him to continue. He took a second to calm down and then explained everything that had happened over the past few days.

It was easy to prove that you weren’t a part of it when you looked back at Stephen Holstroms life and realised that he didn’t have a best friend or a friend of any kind at Caspian’s age. (Y/N) was the only person that Caspian could trust but that didn’t mean that he wanted to drag them into everything that was happening, he still didn’t understand how they ended up in the car with him and Cary going to meet Maddie. “I’ll find a way to get you back home after all of this.” He promised. “Home?” They asked. “Why would I go home, you need someone right? Someone to trust?” “Yeah but-” “And we’ve proven that I can be trusted?” They asked. “Yes but-” “Then I stay.” they leaned back in their chair as Caspian glanced at her through the rear view mirror. “Why?” He asked. “Because I'm your friend, this is how friends work… Real ones anyway.” You shrugged. “Real friends?” Caspian asked. “Alright, how about this, I promise to be the one person that you can trust, a true friend, pillar to lean on and person to talk to, if you promise to stop thinking that you don’t deserve it. You didn’t ask to be made this way and no matter how you were born you are no less human than anyone else I know.” You said. “Alright, fine, as long as you don’t keep calling yourself the slow friend.” He answered. “Alright deal.” And that was the first time that he felt like he could trust someone, accept someone, turn away and they would still be there, a true friend he liked that security.

Request Here!!

#pantheon amc oneshot #pantheon amc imagine #pantheon amc #caspian keyes oneshot #caspian keyes imagine #caspian keyes #imagine #oneshoth #one shot #reader insert #x reader #gender neutral reader

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