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So I read a lot of stories similar to my requests. But I just think you are the best author on tumblr, so I wanna ask you😅☺️
Secret marriage with Oscar. They married really young and the drivers reaction. She is always at the races, but just in the shadows. The only one that knows is Charles, because he is Oscars "dad" 😭😍
Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!
-xoxo babygirl 💕
Secret marriage
The F1 paddock buzzed with the usual energy and tension. The race weekend was in full swing, and every driver, mechanic, and team member was focused on the task ahead. It was Friday afternoon, and most of the drivers had just finished media sessions and were now lounging around in the driver's hospitality suite, swapping stories and strategies. Oscar was among them, scrolling through his phone with a relaxed expression.
Nearby, Lando noticed a familiar face in the crowd. A woman, sleek and stylish, with a British Vogue ID around her neck, had been lingering around Oscar’s side of the paddock all day, chatting with him occasionally before darting off to interview other drivers. Lando squinted, intrigued.
“Oi, Oscar,” Lando called out, leaning back in his seat. “Who's that Vogue chick? She’s been following you around like a shadow.”
Oscar glanced up from his phone, trying to keep his expression neutral. “Who, Y/N? She’s just here for work. We know each other pretty well.”
George, who overheard the conversation, raised an eyebrow. “Pretty well? Mate, you guys looked like you were practically whispering sweet nothings before she left the garage.”
Oscar shrugged, but his eyes glinted with mischief. “Maybe we were.”
Lando sat up, fully interested now. “Wait… what? Are you and Miss Vogue dating?”
Oscar chuckled, keeping his cool. “Not exactly.”
Pierre, catching onto the conversation, leaned forward. “Come on, spill the beans! There’s definitely something going on.”
Oscar finally sighed, looking up at his friends with an amused smirk. “Well… actually, Y/N and I… we’re married.”
The room fell silent.
George blinked. “You’re what?”
“Married,” Oscar repeated, his tone casual as ever. “Been married since we turned eighteen, actually.”
The explosion was immediate. Lando gasped, practically jumping out of his seat, while Pierre clapped a hand over his mouth in shock.
“No way!” Lando exclaimed. “You’ve been married this whole time?”
Oscar nodded, barely reacting to the chaos unfolding around him. “Yep. Just never made a big deal out of it.”
“You’re telling me,” George said, his voice high-pitched with disbelief, “that you’ve been secretly married for… what? Three years now?”
“Three and a half, actually,” Oscar replied calmly, clearly enjoying their reactions. “We wanted to keep it private. Just worked out that way.”
Pierre looked like he was about to faint. “Mate, do you realize we never even knew you had a girlfriend, let alone a wife?”
Oscar gave a little shrug. “Guess I’m good at keeping secrets.”
George put his hands on his head. “I thought I was the reserved one around here! But this? Oscar, this is next level. How did we never catch on?”
Oscar chuckled, glancing over at Y/N, who was currently chatting with a journalist a few feet away. “She’s at most of the races. Just… behind the scenes.”
“I don’t even know what to say,” Pierre muttered, shaking his head in amazement.
Just then, Charles strolled into the room, looking curious as he caught the tail end of the conversation. “What’s everyone freaking out about?”
Lando grinned, looking ready to explode with excitement. “Charles, you’re not gonna believe this. Oscar’s married! Secretly married, since he was eighteen.”
Charles’s reaction was far more subdued. He simply nodded, a knowing smile spreading across his face. “Ah, yes. I know about Y/N.”
The room went silent again as every driver turned to gape at Charles.
“You knew?” George demanded, wide-eyed.
Charles gave them a smug shrug. “Of course. I’ve known for ages. I’m Oscar’s ‘dad,’ remember?” He winked, referencing the Monaco joke that had become a running gag between them. “It’s my job to know these things.”
Oscar snorted, smirking over at Charles. “Guess you can’t keep secrets from your ‘Monaco dad.’”
Lando threw his hands up in the air. “You’re all insane! Charles knows, Oscar’s been married for years, and we’ve all been left out!”
Pierre shook his head, still processing. “Wait, how did you find out, Charles?”
Charles leaned back, crossing his arms with a grin. “Oscar told me after our Monaco podium. Said he needed someone to know in case he ever needed advice. Before we went partying, I met Y/N and let me tell you, she is a lovely girl. And, you know, as his ‘father’ in the paddock, it was only a matter of time.” He gestured grandly, making everyone laugh.
George narrowed his eyes playfully. “So all this time, we could’ve been calling him ‘married man Oscar’ instead of ‘little Oscar’?”
Oscar rolled his eyes, amused. “Yeah, well, it wasn’t exactly a talking point. We wanted to keep things between us. Y/N’s work with Vogue keeps her busy and traveling too, so it worked out.”
Oscar turned his head towards Y/N, calling out softly with his arm outstretched. " Love, came here for a second, please."
Y/N approached just then, noticing the group staring at her with a mix of shock and admiration. “Is everything okay?”
Pierre looked at her, still in awe. “So… you two are really married?”
She glanced at Oscar with a smile, nodding. “Surprise?”
Lando leaned in, grinning like a kid at Christmas. “How have you kept this a secret all this time? You must have some insane spy-level skills.”
Y/N laughed. “I wouldn’t say that. We just wanted to enjoy it without all the attention.”
“Respect,” George said, tipping an imaginary hat to her. “You two might be the most low-key power couple I’ve ever seen.”
Charles looked proud, wrapping an arm around Oscar’s shoulder. “That’s my boy.”
Oscar rolled his eyes, shoving Charles off. “Alright, alright, let’s not make a big thing out of it.”
Lando looked at Oscar, eyes still gleaming. “Mate, this is a big thing! You’ve been living like some kind of undercover superhero. ‘Married Piastri’ is a whole new level of cool.”
Pierre nodded eagerly. “Right? It’s like finding out Clark Kent was Superman all along.”
Oscar chuckled, clearly enjoying his friends’ reactions. “Well, maybe now that you guys know, I’ll bring her around a bit more.”
Lando lit up. “Please! And maybe you can finally get that double date with George and Carmen going!”
George chuckled. “Right, because that’s exactly what we need. A bunch of drivers swapping marriage advice.”
Pierre smirked, nudging Oscar. “You’re making the rest of us look bad, you know. Now everyone’s gonna ask why we’re not secretly married.”
Oscar smirked back. “Hey, don’t blame me. You all had just as much chance to find out as Charles.”
As the group laughed, Y/N leaned into Oscar’s side, whispering, “Well, I guess the secret’s out.”
Oscar grinned, wrapping an arm around her. “Guess so. But I don’t mind. Not if it means we don’t have to sneak around anymore.”
Charles rolled his eyes playfully. “Alright, alright. Now, can we get back to racing, or are you going to give us a honeymoon slideshow too?”
The group burst into laughter, and Oscar looked around, more comfortable than ever. His secret was out, but he couldn’t be happier to finally share it with his friends.
#formula 1#formula 1 x reader#xoxo babygirl 💋#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri x reader#lando norris x reader#george russell x reader#pierre gasly x reader#charles leclerc x reader#secret marriage#oscar piastri
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my palms ran red turning over jagged rocks, thought i'd find some kind of sign; you pressed your mouth to my wound, weren't your bloody lips sign enough?
qh43 x reader: you really have to stop meeting like this.
(warnings: mostly plot, but also blasphemous filth (yes, we're back on the smut train), unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), fingering, hair pulling (i haven't changed), choking (i really haven't changed), descriptions of self-doubt and shame and all my typical stuff. mostly tension building (10k words worth), general debauchery. please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)
(a/n: oh my god, favorites. i hadn't read this one in so long, so thank you for allowing me an avenue to rediscover it. i'm so happy you're getting to rediscover it now, too. if you want a song to listen to that i think goes with this story really well, give BONES! by girly teeth club a try :) i do genuinely believe that this story was a real turning point for me, and it holds a very special place in my heart because of that (i had the line then who was i praying to? well, who answered? taped to my computer for a long, long time. personal favorite of mine). i hope you enjoy this one again, and also hello to the followers and readers who have no idea what i'm talking about when i bitch and moan about my old account. i see you, and i love you, and i'm so eager to hear what you think. enjoy mechanic qh43 and all of the mythical divine powers that he inspires within me. to the seven people who care, more ol and rus coming momentarily. sunday is now my designated tumblr day, so if you want to chat, sunday is your best bet. i love you and your snakes! be kind to yourself).
like most all-consuming things, it started with something insignificant.
if your tail light had never gone out during the summer before your third year at university, perhaps none of it would have ever happened. part of you wanted to believe that some determined power would have guided the two of you together no matter what, but most of you thought the powers of the world to be nonchalant at best, hostile at worst.
regardless, your right tail light went out a few weeks before school started, and despite your intense unwillingness to spend money on your car, your mom insisted that you get it fixed.
"that family auto shop will do it quickly," she suggested, "the one a few streets down from school."
so here you were, standing uncomfortably in the lobby of the mechanic's, less than soothed by the harsh noises that echoed through the small garage.
you cleared your throat, attempting to get the attention of the teenage receptionist, probably the daughter or cousin of the owner, currently on her phone.
she looked up immediately, smiled wide, full of braces and friendliness. "sorry," she said, only a little guilty to be caught on her phone. "how can i help you?"
you smiled right back at her, immediately put at ease by her presence. "my mom called earlier," you said. you went to continue, but were enthusiastically cut off.
"miss tail light!" she exclaimed, to which you laughed and nodded. "have a seat," she urged, "quinn should be out in a minute, and that's a quick fix."
you nodded and sat down, then crossed your legs as you waited, bouncing one foot against your other calf. you looked at your hands, twisted one ring around your finger.
"you're the tail light?" a low voice called from the lobby entrance, forcing your gaze up from your hands to meet a pair of eyes that somehow swam with both steel and uncertainty.
this newcomer, quinn, supposedly, confirmed by the embroidered patch on his breast pocket, seemed to be immediately off-put by your matching gaze, as he shoved his wide hands in the pockets of his coveralls and blinked several times, a bit too fast.
his confusing mannerisms, combined with his curious combination of handsomeness and beauty, forced a small smile to your face as you stood up.
he really was pretty like you had never quite seen before, tall but not menacingly so, broad across the chest in a way that just looked warm, his coveralls hanging off of him, drawing attention to his frame, his thighs, his arms.
his hair was messy, curling only slightly at the tops of his ears, his cheekbones and jawline so, so sharp, but his nose and mouth softly curved.
you cleared your throat again when you realized you were probably staring.
"i suppose i am," you said, answering his question, approaching him and the door, by extension.
he gave a forced nod before turning to leave, urging a fluid reaction from the muscles in his neck and shoulders, which you pretended not to notice as you walked behind him.
in a choppy, sudden motion, he made to hold the door open for you, arm extended but gaze averted.
"thank you, quinn," you said, trying out his name, surprised to find how natural it felt on your tongue, something like a hymn a past-life you must have sang with unmatched conviction.
he seemed just as surprised as you, practically tripped over his own feet before quickly recovering. you bit your lip to stifle a laugh.
"should only take a second," he said as he crouched down next to your car, his voice a bit rougher than before, pulling a couple of tools and bulbs from his many pockets.
"take your time," you said, sitting down nearby as he got to work, and you meant it, feeling a somewhat shameful urge to just watch him. just look at him.
you fumbled to distract yourself, settling on looking interested in your phone. in reality, it took real effort to keep your eyes down, away from him, when you felt as if he emitted some kind of magnetic force suited only to you.
it felt like an eternity, but it took all of ten minutes, a couple swift motions, and he was done, rising again to his full height and turning to face you.
you allowed yourself to meet his eyes and it felt like a heaving exhale. "all done?" you asked, rising as well, willing brightness into your voice.
he nodded in affirmation, and you could have pouted. a man of few words, it seemed, and how you wished he would give you a few more.
he wiped his hands with a rag, and you refused to let your eyes follow the motion. "so i should pay..." you started.
he nodded towards the lobby. "you can pay with bean," he said, gruff.
you grinned right at him, and anyone else would have seen his gaze soften from stone to molten rock. "bean?" you asked.
the slightest smile took over his mouth. "my cousin," he said, slowly, "at reception."
you hummed, comforted by his sudden ease. "well then," you said, "i'll go check out with your cousin bean."
"i'll walk you," he blurted out, a blush coming to tint the tops of his ears in a positively dreamy sort of way.
so you walked the several steps back to the lobby together, the silence so comfortable you could have sighed, fallen asleep wrapped up in it.
already you felt some sense of loss creeping in, knowing you were probably never going to see him again, knowing this was all you were going to get. just a couple of glances and words and blushes, that's as far as this would go. and it made a lot of sense, but logical reason grew over your hazy, momentary crush like ivy on a brick building.
he held the door open for you again, and as you walked past him this time you looked up into his eyes. stone and steel and ivy.
you thanked him again.
"quinn?" came that delightfully girlish voice from behind the desk, this time intensely confused. "what are you doing?"
he stood in the door frame, his swallow almost cartoonish. "just making sure she checks out okay," he mumbled, not quite looking anyone in the face.
the girl smiled so wide, you could see she had chosen to make her braces purple last time she visited the orthodontist. "you've never done that before, is all," she observed with all the subtlety of a volcanic eruption.
was that pink tint creeping past his ears to his neck, now?
"do it plenty," he muttered, less than convincing and more to himself than anyone else.
the girl shot you a knowing look before turning to her cousin again. "if you say so," she relented. "miss tail light is in good hands with me, now, so you're all set, mr. random acts of kindness."
quinn muttered something under his breath before making to leave, embarrassment still flushing just under his collar.
the knowledge that this was it, this was all this would ever be, that's what made you reach a hand out to lightly grasp his forearm, stopping him where he stood.
you swore some kind of divine warmth rose to meet your hand.
he looked down at where your fingers met his arm before meeting your gaze. molten, yet again. he didn't move, didn't dare to scare off your touch.
"thank you again, quinn," you said, just to him.
a pause charged by meaning sparked between you both.
maybe some minuscule fraction of your heart feared he would push you away and roll his eyes, mumble something about personal space. or maybe that disgust would flood his lovely gaze, and he would say something much meaner.
you should never have touched him, you scolded yourself, stupid, desperate, foolish girl. you began to lift your hand away when his rough voice became a whisper, just for you.
"anything, doll," he said. and then he walked away, leaving his words to rattle around in your head like the whirring noises around the garage.
you paid, laughed playfully with the young receptionist as she insisted she had never seen her cousin so embarrassed, and especially not so bashful.
"i'm sure that's not true," you said, trying in vain to force your sky-rocketing hopes back to earth.
"oh, it is," she said as you made to leave, giving you a big smile and a wave as you bid her goodbye.
as you drove back home, those tendrils of reason crept back again, began to suffocate the dreamy romance that had settled like a glittery mist in your head.
you gave a single exhale, breathing out any unrealistic expectations. you'd probably never see him again, you admitted to yourself, and you tried to convince yourself that you were fine with it.
and so you let the image of steel and stone and ivy become a phantom in the back of your mind, along with the scorching solidity of his forearm underneath your delicate palm.
you'd never see him again, you believed.
in theory, you knew you could have had one of your friends find him on social media, it probably wouldn't have been too hard. a first name, an occupation, they'd tracked down fleeting flings and past crushes with much less information to go off of before.
but you didn't like the idea of interference, much preferred the way he looked in your memory to the fear that he would be someone very different online, that he would be someone different than the person that now existed exclusively in your head.
you were never supposed to see him again, and yet you did, and just as you had almost forgotten the way his shoulders moved when he walked, too.
three weeks later, just before you went back to school, you were eating dinner outside with your family at the country club they belonged to. you had been there maybe twice in the last couple of years, as your mom worked long hours and your dad only really used his membership for golf.
now, though, sitting outside, overlooking the course, in the pleasant air of the late summer, you were glad you were here, enjoying these last few moments with your family before you began your third year.
you were laughing at a joke your mom had made when you heard someone close by call out, "that's my marker, quinn!"
something distant fluttered in your stomach as you registered the name, tried so hard to not care if it was him or not. trying so, so hard to not care, but you cared so much it felt as if you might have willed him into existence yourself, wanted him enough that even the uninterested powers were forced to relent with a bored sigh.
so, in truth, you knew it was him even before you turned and focused on the hole just below the patio.
you knew it was him, and yet you were wholly unprepared for the way your head spun when you registered his familiar figure.
as if compelled by your gaze, or by something else worth worshipping, he turned, too, and there you were, staring at each other. did he recognize you the way you did him? the way you recognize your first lover's cologne? the way you recognize what's waiting behind a door with a scalding doorknob?
but then he took a hand off of his club and gave a timid wave, and you felt your body relax as you waved back. he paused for a moment as if in thought, then motioned towards him, silently asking you to come down.
"who is that?" your mother asked, not critical, only curious.
"my mechanic," you answered, "be right back, promise."
so, even though it was probably (definitely) against the rules, you made your way down to the impeccably cut grass, holding your shoes in one shaky hand.
you waved again as you approached him at the edge of the green, his friends gathered closer to the hole, talking animatedly amongst themselves.
he tilted his head and gave you a small smile, which gave you wings. a smile, and you hadn't even done anything!
"hi, quinn," you said, getting your first good look at him up close, and this time not in coveralls. this time in a polo that brought out his eyes and shorts that had you straining not to stare at his thighs.
"doll," he greeted, that ghost of a smile still on his full lips. "thought that was you."
heavy uncertainty suddenly settled between the both of you. what were you supposed to say? what was he supposed to say? what do you do with time that feels stolen?
"didn't think i'd see you again," you landed on, then physically cringed at yourself. "not that i was thinking about you, or anything," you added, then pursed your lips in a line.
awesome save.
he let out a laugh, though, and it shook his shoulders and lit up his face in a way that made it impossible to regret your rambling.
his laugh made him look human in a way he hadn't really, before, at the garage. it stripped back all the flowery expectations your imagination had buried him in and set him down here, in front of you, a real person.
a real person, who, in this summery light, was much more unabashed and generous with his smiles. his eyes had a softness to them that you hadn't noticed before.
"i wish you had, then," he said, in that deep, low, voice with a confidence that didn't quite suit him, like he was just trying it on.
it almost made you drop your shoes, regardless.
"yeah?" you asked, tilting your head and letting your satisfaction drench your face like sunset light.
he gave a little nod.
"c'mon, huggy!" one of his friends called. what do you do with time that feels stolen?
he looked back at them and his jaw clenched, for a second.
you knew you had to be the one to walk away, or it would haunt you like some ancestral debt.
"maybe i'll see you again, then, quinn," you said, your tone not conveying the desperate hope you felt.
he looked you up and down, amusement alight in his eyes. it seemed his nervous demeanor existed only in his coveralls. "you willing to take your chances on a 'maybe,' doll?"
were you?
you silently begged those distant forces to prove your hopes were not futile, but you didn't really believe that. you were headed to school in just two days, and who knows where he was headed, this mysterious mechanic who liked to golf and had eyes like a deity.
you knew you were on stolen time, and that this, again, was as far as this would ever go.
"we're going!" his friends called.
"i hope i see you again, quinn," you amended, already feeling a sense of loss again. but you had to be the one to walk away, so you began to.
his face was unreadable, some mixture of disappointment and interest and knowing.
"think about me some more this time, yeah? until you see me again?"
your smile glowed. "if 'm honest, quinn, that'll be hard," you said, thinking about how he had been a constant in your mind for the last couple of weeks. you leaned into your flirtatious side since you were both moving apart. it was always easiest when you were on the way out.
he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek. "try extra hard for me, would you, doll?"
and for a moment, time seemed to ooze like amber. a blink felt like eternity, like you were both suspended in an hourglass.
"promise," you said. it came out like a whisper, but it felt like you screamed it across an open expanse.
and so you parted ways a second time, practically daring the universe to stop you from meeting again.
do whatever you want, universe, you seemed to say, i don't care! i'm fine with the story ending here!
oh, sweetheart, the universe seemed to say, yawning, barely looking at you, then why do you clutch at the book until your fingers bleed?
you could have scowled.
and, just as he wanted, and just as you were afraid of, he was there, in the back of your mind, for several weeks into the school year.
everything started smoothly. you were happy to see your friends again, to be living with them. classes started well. you went out when you wanted to. you began your regular job, tutoring other students in classes you had already taken. it was nice to see the students you had helped out last year, to continue helping them.
teachers referred you to help students who were struggling in their classes all the time, so it wasn't anything significant when one set up a time for you to meet at the library with someone who wasn't quite getting intro to calculus.
it was significant, however, when you opened up the reserved study room door to see quinn sitting at the table, textbooks out in front of him.
so significant, actually, that it genuinely scared you. "jesus," you muttered, exhaling and placing a calming hand over your heart.
he looked up when he heard the door open, and you were frozen in place.
this is what you wanted, right? the universe probably asked, bored. now will you leave me alone?
"i was not expecting you," you admitted, willing your heart back to beating normally.
you couldn't read him, yet again. and yet again, you felt as if you had wanted him hard enough that even the fibers of the universe were annoyed enough to comply.
ugh, they probably said to each other, just give that desperate fool what she wants! i'm tired of hearing her pleas!
but you could have sighed at how beautiful he looked, this time different again - sweatpants and a t-shirt and messy hair. soft looking and sleepy after a day of class and whatever else.
"yeah?" he asked, although he hadn't expected you either. he wasn't shocked the way you were, though. only pleasantness played across his full features. "who were you expecting?"
not you, you wanted to say. things just don't work out like this for me. "i didn't know you went here," you said, simply.
"i didn't know you were a tutor," he replied, leaning back in his chair.
i didn't know your smile gets lopsided when you're tired, you thought to yourself. you could never forget that, now.
"safe to say we know very little about each other, doll," he added, as if he could hear your thoughts.
and he was right - you hadn't asked him anything about himself the last two times you saw him, and he didn't know anything about you. how easy would it have been at the course to say you were going to the local university in a couple of days. why had you not?
why had you relinquished control so easily?
it practically pained you to think about that, just as it was practically painful to look at his face head on, eyes weary with sleep yet bright with amusement, so you decided to solve both of those problems.
"well," you said, sliding into the seat next to him at the table, excruciatingly aware of your closeness, "what do you know about derivatives?"
he gave a huff of a laugh. "probably even less," he said.
you gave him a smile and started to go over your notes with him. the more you spoke, and the deeper you got into the topic, the easier it was to be close to him.
you were still hyperaware of his warmth, his presence, his beauty, his being, but you could do this. getting lost in your purpose here instead of getting lost in him.
after about an hour of you explaining derivatives, you looking at your notes, and him looking at you, you shut your textbook.
"i think that's good for a first session, hm?" you asked, turning to face him and hugging one knee to your chest.
he held your gaze as if studying your face. it felt like being center stage, under a white hot spotlight.
he spread his legs out and reached his arms up, stretching after sitting in the same position for a while. you had to look down at your hands.
"five more minutes?" he asked like a kid begging for an extended bedtime. only now he was asking for more time with you.
you scrunched up your nose, which made him smile, a bit. "can i ask you a question, quinn?" you asked. "since we don't know anything about each other."
"only if i get one, too," he answered.
you thought carefully, flexed your hand on your knee as your gaze met his sleepy one. "it's not that late," you started, "why are you so tired?"
he laughed again, making your chest sing. "busy day," he answered, "had two classes, practice, and a lift."
and as he elaborated you added to the carefully protected vault in your mind of information you knew about him. he played hockey for the team here, he was a defensemen, he was always busy.
"my turn," he said after he was done, low like a secret.
you nodded, forced away the flush his tone alone was able to pull from you.
"did you keep your promise?" he asked.
of everything he could have said, you were least expecting that. of course you knew what promise he was referring to immediately. of course it felt like something abominable to tell him the truth.
suddenly the space between the two of you felt much too little, much too dangerous. so small that you could see each of his eyelashes, he could see the way your eyes dropped to his mouth for a second.
there was something in his eyes that surprised you, though. there was a trace of those nerves you had seen in him that first day - that instability and uncertainty. he wanted you to say yes, you realized. he wanted it so, so much.
"of course i did, quinn," you soothed, leaning forward onto your knee just a bit. it was always easiest on the way out. "did you have any doubts?"
did he let out a breath? his silence spoke for him. still, you had to be the one to walk away. you couldn't afford any more ghosts.
"same time next week?" you asked, gathering your things.
"not gonna leave it to chance this time, doll?" he asked, getting his things together too, but in a lazy sort of way. his hands moved slowly, reluctantly.
you tried not to stare at them.
you gave him a last look before you left.
"do you want to leave it to chance?" you asked, genuinely.
ugh, chance seemed to say, can't you just do it yourself?
his molten gaze dripped over you like honey. "no," he decided, "no, i wouldn't say that's at the top of my wishlist."
you didn't ask what was.
so, each tuesday night, you tutored him in calculus. and each tuesday night, you learned more about him, and he learned more about you.
you learned about how he got into auto mechanics (he never grew out of his childhood truck phase), why he liked golf (really just an excuse to talk with his friends for a couple of hours), what was so special about hockey (it felt like he could see things that others just couldn't). his favorite candy (sour skittles), his favorite color gatorade (red), his favorite t-shirt (a worn in concert shirt from high school).
but you also learned that he got shy when you complimented him, that he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek when he was about to say something that made you blush, that he got more confident as he got to know you.
his nerves only came out when he grew unsure, and you did your best to make him so, so sure.
and he did get to know you. how you got into your major (data analysis was the family business), why you applied yourself so vigorously in your classes (you didn't know any other way), all about your close friends and family. your favorite soda (cherry coke zero), your favorite frat (pike, only because a couple of your friends were dating brothers there, and they had the goofiest themes), your favorite snack (pretzel goldfish).
he was nothing if not observant, too, so he noticed that you had a special smile for when he got a question right, and that you only wore your hair up when you were extra tired, and that, towards the end of the session, when you were caught off guard, you would lean a little closer to him without realizing.
that was his favorite. when you would lean into his space, just a little more, as if you were pulled towards him by a magnetic force.
and each session, you made him a little more confident, and he made you blush a little bit more. until you both felt utterly comfortable with each other, like you had known each other for ages.
well, as comfortable as you could feel with a person who made you feel like every inch of your skin was on fire. as comfortable as you could feel with someone whose voice made your throat go dry, whose hands made you stutter, whose mannerisms made your stomach flutter.
one tuesday night, late into a session where he had told you he had passed his quiz with flying colors, he twisted his pen in his hand.
"you know, doll," he started, "you should come to a game sometime."
you looked up. "one of your games?" you asked, searching his steely eyes for meaning.
his lip quirked. "yes, one of my games."
here, he might as well have said, have a little more of me.
"unless you don't want to," he added to your silence. "which would also be fine. i don't want to force-"
you stopped him with a hand on his forearm, transporting you both back to that first day. did you imagine him relaxing into your touch, this time?
"i'd love to come," you said, looking him square in the face.
"good," he replied, content.
but nothing could have prepared you for what awaited you that friday night, standing with your friends in the student section of the rink you had never been to.
"how have we never been to a hockey game?" one of them asked, looking around at the crowd.
"basketball's just better," another said, although, to be fair, she was on the club basketball team. "what the hell is icing, anyways?"
"we never had a reason to, i guess," your best friend said in a teasing tone. you shot her a look, to which she raised her hands in surrender. "hey, no judgement," she said, and you laughed.
as soon as quinn was on the ice, though, he had your complete and undivided attention. he skated with a mesmerizing fluidity, hit with a concrete, undeniable kind of force. and he was right - he did see things no one else could see, made connections that you, nor anyone on the ice, could predict until they were already completed.
he was all over the ice, all over this space, he was everywhere. and you were transfixed.
walking back to the house with your friends, they noticed. of course they did.
"oh god, i know that look," one said.
"this is gonna be trouble," another added. was this trouble? was trouble when everything someone did felt like some great treasure you had discovered? was trouble this kind of fire, of comfort, of excitement, of rest?
you shook your head. "calm down, guys," you said. "it's not that serious."
"right," someone said. you didn't believe yourself, either.
"what did you think of the game?" he asked the following tuesday after you had covered enough material to be satisfied.
you were so close to him now, it probably would have been easier to just share a chair. so close you could feel the warmth radiating off of him, could all but feel his chest against your back.
"what did i think of the game?" you repeated lazily.
you could hear his smile in his voice. "yes, doll."
you hummed. how honest could you be, here? what could you get away with?
and maybe it was your closeness to him that made you bold. maybe it was the heat you saw in his eyes that had you leaning your head on his shoulder and looking up at him. you felt his breath rumble through him and into you.
the air sparked.
"thought you were incredible, quinn," you said honestly. "like nothing i've ever seen."
his exhale was shaky as he peered down at you. "yeah?" he asked.
"mhm," you hummed, your body buzzing with his contact, the most you had ever had. something unspoken settled between you like dust.
"you would come again, then?" he asked, hopeful but drowsy.
you couldn't help but smile, a bit, gaze up at him through your lashes. "think i'd have a hard time saying no to you, if 'm honest."
something like wonder misted across his heated gaze. "i like knowing you're there," he said. "like knowing you're thinking about me."
dangerous desire swirled around the two of you, melting your gaze and blurring the lines.
things don't work out like this for you, a voice said, bitter and mocking, drawing the lines up again, sturdy and menacing.
you cleared your throat, lifted your head from his shoulder. if you could look at him, you would have seen that uncertainty swimming in his eyes again, along with something like hurt.
but you couldn't look at him. at the drowsy slouch of his shoulders, the rugged line of his jaw, the glossy want that practically dripped down his face like starry tears.
i'm always thinking about you, you wanted to tell him. i'm sorry.
but you gathered your things, stood up. "i should go."
he was silent for a moment, looked you up and down, gave a small sigh. "okay, doll," he conceded. "on one condition."
you scrunched up your nose in confusion.
"you agree to come golfing with me tomorrow," he said in a completely satisfied tone. "then, you can go."
a million excuses flooded onto your tongue.
"i'm busy tomorrow," you tried, your voice coming out tight.
he waved that off lazily. "me too," he said, something like a smirk growing on his pink lips. "but we're both free at four, so let's plan on that. next?"
you sputtered.
"but i don't know how to golf," you tried.
he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek. trouble.
"don't worry, doll," he offered. "i'll go real slow for you."
you flushed, almost walked into the doorframe, quickly decided you needed to leave immediately, if you wanted to maintain any level of mystery or dignity.
"fine," you said, already on your way out. it felt like flames were nipping at your heels, biting at your nose. "i'll come."
his smirk deepened, a different look on him. "don't put up much of a fight, do you, doll?"
"i'm leaving," you choked as you walked out, turning to face him one final time. "what if i just didn't want to come?"
he seemed to ponder this for a moment. "i think," he started, "if you really didn't want to come, it wouldn't make you blush like this to say so."
he didn't ask you to think about him, but by the look on his face, you knew he could tell he didn't have to.
so, the following day, you found yourself on the course with quinn.
a terrible, terrible idea, really.
especially considering the want that filled his gaze when he first saw you, catching on your legs before returning up to your eyes.
"showed up for me, did you, doll?" he asked, a hope you recognized tinting his voice a shimmery pink.
you rolled your eyes, but smiled. "you knew i would."
"thank you anyways," he replied, and his genuineness, his honesty, his straightforwardness, it all made you melt. made you want to know what his smile felt like against your neck, what his hands felt like in your hair.
so, as you both made to tee off, you turned to him. "can you help me with my swing, please?"
his gaze softened. liquid steel. "sure, doll," he said, then lined up next to you and explained his way through it.
you bit your lip. "i'm a hands on learner," you said, which was a lie. "i think i need you closer." that part wasn't.
he didn't adopt a cocky smirk, like so many would have. he didn't lean into your act, didn't pounce on the opportunity to show his superiority. he only approached you from behind and reached his arms around you to grip your driver with you, his hands on top of yours, warm and rough.
you could feel each breath he took in your back, felt the solid plane of his chest on your shoulder blades.
"close enough?" he all but whispered into the space between your neck and your shoulder.
something sinful must have possessed you then. "for now," you breathed out.
he went through a swing with you, slow and fluid. you weren't paying attention, not really, but how could you, when he was just so, so close? was this dazed sensation, was that what he felt when you touched him, that first day? or later, in your study room?
but, of course, the swing was soon over, and he reluctantly retreated off to the side.
"your turn, doll," he said.
you took a breath to shake the phantom of his embrace away, then teed off - beautifully straight and hard, arcing through the air like a physics textbook problem.
you looked at him to find a knowing, teasing look on his face. he ran a hand through his hair, displacing the curling ends as he gave a quick laugh.
you smiled. "call me a natural," you offered, shrugging.
"oh yeah?" he said, tilting his head. "how about i call you a liar?"
you leaned forward onto the end of your driver, grin widening. "how about i call you gullible?"
he shook his head, let out a playful scoff. "like you'd ever have to trick me into touching you."
the rest of the round went by quickly, both of your guards down, lost in conversation and high on each other. too soon, it was over.
it was this realization that urged you to act uncharacteristically - in that, you acted according to what you truly felt.
"can i see you tomorrow?" you asked him as he loaded your clubs into the trunk of your car. you didn't cringe as much as you would have a few weeks ago.
he wiped his hands on his shorts, looked at you with something that looked like relief. "think i'd have a hard time saying no to you," he parroted. his ability to remember things about you warmed you from the inside out.
"meet me at the sig nu party tomorrow?" you asked hopefully. "maybe you can meet some of my friends?"
he looked truly touched. "some of the guys are going already since we don't have a morning lift on friday," he said, "so you could meet some of them, too, if you want."
you nodded, flushed with expectation. "see you then," you said, making to get in your car. "and yes, i'll think about you."
his smile as you shut your door was something of dreams.
sigma nu was not one of your favorite frats. their basement was especially dirty looking, their brothers were on the sketchier side, and the never seemed to have enough alcohol to make it through the night.
but one of your friends was talking to one of the brothers, who also played club basketball. so you and the rest of your group were going for moral support. and also because no one else was throwing. it was only a thursday.
you were nervous. you had only just begun to accept that you were really, really into quinn, and you had only just begun to accept that he might, possibly, probably, be just as into you.
it still didn't make much logical sense to you. when had it ever been so simple?
don't talk about logical sense around me, chance would say, that bitch knows what she did.
when you first saw quinn across the crowded room, chance and logical sense and all those divine powers, they all melted away.
it was just him. his hair was messy and his gaze was relaxed and the lights made it look like his face was glowing as he laughed with his friends.
but the crowd got the better of you, for a little while. you danced with your friends, politely escaped several "so, what's your major?" conversations, and actually spent a while talking to your friend's new talking stage.
as you laughed at something, you were internally surprised. this guy seemed perfect for your friend - they shared so many interests, and he was able to laugh at himself easily, which was something that was at the top of her priority list.
after a while of learning enough about him to approve of him graduating from the talking stage, you looked up. of course your gaze was immediately drawn to quinn, closer than you had seen him last.
closer, and yet farther than he had ever been, because he was leaning against the wall, talking to another girl.
you couldn't really see the girl, but it wouldn't have really mattered. it wasn't about her. she was just a girl talking to a guy at a party. a guy who was, in all technical senses, single and available.
it was more so about him, and how close he was to her, how he leaned down to hear her, meaning she could probably smell his all-but-worn-off cologne.
your grip tightened on your red cup as you swallowed.
before, quinn had only ever been yours, because even when you doubted that he could ever return your feelings, he had never given you concrete evidence that he was interested in anyone else. so even though he hadn't been yours, he had been almost yours, probably going to be yours, or something like that.
but here he was, giving you concrete proof that he existed to others, too, that other people could be interested in him and he could be interested back.
and of course that had always been the case. how could you have been so narcissistic? of course people would foster crushes on him, like you did, and of course he was bound to reciprocate eventually, to someone.
you had let yourself believe that you were the center of the world for a moment, of his world, and you hated that.
so, honestly, it was barely even about quinn. this struggle, this was about you.
but if you stripped back everything external, oh, how downright jealous you felt right then.
so jealous that you had to leave, that you couldn't watch anymore. when you got home, you shut the door and exhaled.
what did i tell you? that bitter voice said, things just don't work out that way for you.
you could have growled, now, at how lazy, how self-centered that sounded.
don't look at me, chance would have said, hands raised in surrender, this was all you.
he was just talking to another girl, logical reason would say, that doesn't mean he's not interested in you. you have what, a couple months of history?
and of course reason would be right. of course, you knew, deep down, you didn't have to let this consume you.
but now a tendril of doubt had woven its way into your heart. if you had been so misled by your own ego before, how could you tell if any of it was real? how could you trust yourself to know if this wasn't much more to you than it was to him?
time. you needed some time.
thankfully, that was doable. you went home for break on friday after class, and planned to stay there for the week.
so you stayed home, caught up with your parents, ignored his numerous texts.
it hurt to do so, but you told yourself you needed some distance.
which wasn't that hard, considering he was playing a series of games across the country. you still put on his games though, which your parents noticed.
"didn't even know we got this channel," you dad observed one night as you watched quinn stickhandle around a sloppy winger.
"when did you get into hockey?" you mom asked, never critical. "we could go see a game sometime, if you want."
you started to settle down a bit, really enjoyed the time at home. before you knew it, though, break was almost over.
"sweetheart," you mom called to you on your second to last day, "would you mind taking the car in?"
you were skeptical. "why?"
"they just called," she explained, "said we're due for an urgent oil change."
you thought it was weird that they would call for that, but quinn was supposedly still away, so you figured it wouldn't be that much of an issue.
"sure," you responded. "i'll bring it in now."
you knew it was a trap as soon as you opened your car door at the garage.
the young receptionist approached you quickly with a guilty smile.
"hi, miss bean," you said, trying to gauge what she was about to say.
"look," she rushed, "i didn't want to, and i'm thought the plan was stupid, and i'm sure you're ignoring him for good reason-"
you sighed, knowing what was coming. having walked right into it. "i'm not, really," you stopped her, then felt the need to clarify. "it's not really a good reason."
"what is it, then?" that low voice asked from your side, and everyone else disappeared.
just him, standing there, looking the same as you had last seen him, but so, so different.
the same, because he was just as lovely as you last recalled. was it insensitive to say that he wore his weariness beautifully?
so different, because he just looked so tired. his coveralls did little to hide the slight slouch in his shoulders. a subtle stubble now shadowed his face, making his jaw sharper. and his eyes. that steely stone that had occupied your mind all this time - it was cracking, desperate for something to hang on to.
"just needed some distance," you mustered. you were jarred by his appearance, by being close to him again, just the two of you.
"yeah?" he looked you up and down, that desperate disappointment now running down your figure. there was no malice in his tone. "why, doll? so you can say you were right?" you could have hissed. "so you can go on knowing everything went exactly as you told yourself it would?"
things like this don't work out for you. who had been telling you that, again?
you sucked on your teeth, had no idea what to say. what do you say to someone that sees right through you? the pause settled like sludge. "i thought you were away," you eventually whispered, ignoring his question.
he ran a hand through his hair, let all his grief flood into his eyes. "and i thought it would be a lot harder for you to forget me," he said, "so i guess we're both at a loss."
you took a step forward, then stopped yourself, almost dizzy. "you actually think i would forget you?" you breathed, practically choking on your words.
he scoffed. "what was i supposed to think?" he rubbed his palm against the back of his neck. "i think everything is going well when you ask me to come to this party, then you spend the whole time talking to some other guy-"
your brow furrowed before you understood. "my friend's new boyfriend," you interrupted. to his confusion, you clarified. "i was talking to my friend's boyfriend."
he blinked, registered this information, appeared a bit lighter. "regardless," he sighed, "you were supposed to be talking to me, doll."
"hold on," you said, the memory of jealousy seeping into your bloodstream, "you were talking to someone else, too, quinn." you crossed your arms, images flashing in your mind of him leaning down, his ear much too close to her lips. "and i don't think that was your friend's girlfriend, unless they're trying out an open relationship."
"i just-" he gave a frustrated gesture, looked down at his feet for a moment.
"you what?" you pressed.
he sighed, now flushed. "i just wanted you to look at me."
you both were silent for a beat as you processed his words. you exhaled, took a few steps until you were right in front of him. his eyes flickered down to your mouth, took the long way back up.
you took his face in your hands, his stubble rough under your palms. you knew you didn't imagine the way he softened into you touch.
"surely by now you know you're all i think about," you said, an offering. like some sacrifice at a long-abandoned altar, so terribly desperate, shamefully honest.
so terrible, the way he grabbed at your hip, pulled you forward, against him. so desperate, the way his other hand twisted into your hair.
so shameful, how he captured your lips with his, all brute emotion, sleepy resignation, a million pleas of "look at me" answered with "i never looked away."
so honest, how he just barely whimpered into your mouth when you tightened your grasp on his jaw, kissed him harder. he pulled so slightly on your hair, you slid a hand down to his chest, gathered the collar of his coveralls in your first, trying to get him impossibly closer.
here, you both were practically screaming, here, have some more of me.
someone whistled across the garage. you pulled away from each other with a jump, having gotten a little carried away. quinn flushed on the tips of his ears and shot the culprit a look, which made you let out a light laugh into his chest.
the little rumble made him look down at you, wrap his arms around your waist and clasp them on the small of your back.
you stayed like that for a moment, just looking at each other. stone, molten.
"i have this thing next week," he said eventually, barely anything more than a rasp. "a formal for the team."
you nodded, reached up, twisted a strand of his hair around your finger.
"come with me," he asked, soft. "please."
you didn't have to think about it. "yes."
and so, about a week later, you found yourself at the hockey formal, an event you hadn't known existed a couple of months ago.
the past week had been blissful, but frustrating - you both were so busy, you with schoolwork and tutoring, him with the team. so much so that you could barely see each other outside of your scheduled tutoring session.
needless to say, you were very much looking forward to a weekend away with him. a whole night, just for the two of you.
and the whole night was wonderful. you were introduced to his teammates, saw a new side of him, heard his laugh so many times it made your head spin.
it was all just so easy. even the mess ups, the uncertainty, the silences, those were easy too, because they were with him.
when he stuttered over telling you how beautiful you looked - easy.
when you didn't know how to introduce yourself to his friends, so you just said you were "quinn's..." and then faded out, unsure - that was easy, because you weren't even really lying. your laugh was instinctual, and everyone else's was, too.
when he asked you to dance, reaching his hand out to you, there had never been an easier yes.
you danced with all the beautiful awkwardness of two people who weren't quite sure what they were yet - weren't quite sure how far they could go. there was not a question of how you both felt, but how slow were you taking this?
how slow could you bear?
every touch felt electric, like a gentle flame ignited whereever his hands had been. you felt a shiver erupt when his hand grasped your waist as you both moved together to a simple rhythm.
so up close and personal, you could smell his worn cologne, feel the warmth from his chest.
he gave you a sly smile, something close to a smirk. "okay, doll?"
you bit your lip, peered up at him through your lashes. "you just look so lovely, quinn," you told him, squeezed his hand, gave him a flushed smile. "it's distracting."
he pulled you a little closer, so that your chests were almost touching as you moved across the floor. "yeah?" he asked, his smile lazy, almost shy. "love a suit, do you?"
you tilted your head, met his gaze entirely and absolutely. oh, how much, how deeply you wanted. hadn't your want seemed to fray the fibers of the universe before?
babe, they seemed to remind you, we never cared.
then who was i praying to? you could have asked.
and they would have only shared a look, laughed like two girls at a sleepover.
well, who answered? they would have responded.
what you did do is give a slight shake of your head. "not the suit," you said. "you're distracting."
you watched his eyes become hooded, felt the underlying heat ignite between you. his grip on your waist tightened. "careful, doll," he breathed out, a warning, a plea.
"don't wanna be," you replied. there was a moment of understanding, a pause of anticipation.
"how slow do you want to take this?" almost drowsy with desire, his voice was slow, rough, only for you. "you know i'd go so slow for you, right, doll?"
you nodded. "i know," you assured him, "but i don't want you to."
you thought you heard him mutter a fuck before he was pulling you from the floor, out of the elaborate event room, upstairs to your room at the hotel. everything was a blur as his hand clasped around yours. a desperate escape, fleeing from everything, everyone except him.
and then the door was shutting and he was pushing you up against it, a hand on your hip and the other on your jaw as his lips met yours in a heated kiss that was every bit as desperate, as longing, and terrible and horrible and shameful as the first one.
you were both too far gone to hold back any longer.
you tangled your hands in the hair at the nape of his neck, felt the curls between your fingers.
he tasted like mint and salt and something earthy.
kissing him felt like barbed wire made of gold, flowery rust, somehow the most violent act you had ever committed, yet also the most gentle.
like removing your heart with a cookie cutter, offering it to him on a painted porcelain plate.
you moaned into his mouth, he hissed just a bit as you pulled at his hair.
he pushed his hips up against yours, hiked your leg up around his thigh, making you gasp at the hardness you found across his front.
"more," you murmured against his lips, felt his sly smirk grow against yours.
he moved his hand from your hip to slide up your dress, glide his fingertips along your inner thigh, just barely skirt across your folds. "like this, doll? so wet for me already," he asked, his voice gravelly. "this must be enough then, yeah?"
you shook your head, moved your hips to try to get some friction.
"no?" he said, obviously teasing, "greedy girl, hm? wants even more?" he brought his other hand to your mouth, pressed his thumb against your bottom lip, smirked when you closed your lips around him without a second thought. "what do you say?"
"please," you whined around his hand, in a voice you barely recognized. "please, quinn."
he answered you by dragging his fingers through your folds once before pushing two into you, slow and deep, making you arch your back up off of the door.
"fuck, so tight," he rasped.
you whimpered against his thumb, closed your eyes as you felt his hand move from your mouth to your throat.
"open up, doll," he demanded. "look at me."
you obliged with effort, wrapped an arm around his neck for support, another one bracing the door as he increased his pace, pushing his fingers in and out of you, grazing your clit each time.
your nails dug into his neck as you lost yourself in the sensation, barely registering the way he groaned at the delicious shot of pain.
"this enough, doll?" he cooed, annoyingly smug at how audibly wet you were.
you vigorously shook your head, so desperate to get him to keep going. "no," you pleaded, "fuck, please, quinn, don't stop."
he tightened his hand around your throat just a little, only barely squeezing as he flattened his other palm against your clit, making you moan loudly. "must be ready for me then, yeah?"
you fisted his dress shirt in your hand, pushed yourself off of the door and pulled him onto the bed. "please, need more of you," you begged, nothing more than a prayer, "fuck, want you so bad."
something lovely flooded his gaze as he moved his clothes aside, pulled himself out as you further hiked up your dress.
he spat into his hand, pumped himself up and down in a way that made your mouth water.
you were practically pouting. "please, fuck me, quinn," you said, pathetic and just so fine with it, "'s all i've been thinking about."
and you knew you had said something magical when he groaned and tugged you towards him by the undersides of your thighs, his grip hot and rough, a working man's grip.
"shit," he hissed as he ran his cock up and down your folds once, twice, collecting your wetness there, "'d never say no to you."
you whined when he first pushed into you, so, so deep that you swore you could feel him in the palms of your hands, feel him rattling around in your teeth, behind your eyes.
he moaned like a sinner, clutched at the flesh of your hips so tightly you knew his fingerprints would be left behind later.
as he began to thrust in and out of you, his rhythm hard and even, both of you could barely form words, so lost in the feeling of each other, finally as physically close as you could be.
"fuck," he bit out eventually, his rhythm picking up speed, "so tight, doll. so wet for me, hm?"
you nodded, clenched around him, reached one of your hands forward to rub at your clit, increasing the pressure quickly building inside of you.
he choked out a grunt at the sight of you touching yourself, only making you squeeze him harder. "feels so good, quinn," you whined, "so deep inside me."
he moved one hand up to your calf, hoisted one of your legs up to change his angle, thrusted down into you in a way that hit a dizzying spot inside of you. he kept going, bringing you both closer every minute.
"shit, feel so perfect," he bit out at some point. "made for me, hm?" he asked as you rubbed your clit faster. "squeezing me so perfect, yeah?"
you hummed something like affirmation, your breathing becoming ragged as he hit that spot over and over, his chest rising and falling, his thrusts becoming broken and messy.
"fuck, quinn," you moaned, "fuck, 'm so close."
he groaned. "gonna cum for me, doll?" he asked, letting your calf rest on his shoulder as his hand travelled down to apply only the slightest pressure to your lower stomach.
the sensation, that unique pressure making you feel him impossibly deeper, sent you soaring right to the edge.
"feel you squeezing me," he breathed out, his own voice tight and rough, his chest and stomach flexing as he fought off his own orgasm. "cum for me, doll, yeah? wanna feel you cum on my cock." he squinted with effort. "be good for me, hm?"
and his words sent you spiraling, a wave of pleasure finally crashing, clenching and spasming around him in a way that triggered his own high.
he moaned as he came, his breathing labored as you both collapsed back onto the hotel bed.
effort and satisfaction glowed on your faces, realized desire settling along his cheekbones and on the cupid's bow of your mouth.
there were several moments of easy silence in the warm air, his hand throw lazily around your middle, one of yours resting on his chest.
"can i ask you for something?" you said eventually, looking up at him with tired eyes full of possibility.
"anything, doll," he said, and you remembered back to that first day, in the garage. how easy it was, now, to remember it fondly.
"can i have a kiss, please?" you asked, almost shy, more so gentle.
a smile already played across his mouth. "especially that," he said, eager to comply with your request.
he leaned down to press a fluttering, beautiful kiss to your lips.
well i definitely didn't see this coming, chance stage-whispered to logical reason behind her hand.
i don't really deal with this lovey-dovey kind of stuff, logical reason said, not my thing.
all the divine powers and the fibers of the universe and such, they were silent. perhaps they always had been. perhaps this was much too far out of their jurisdiction.
perhaps it was just none of their business.
fin.
#hockey#nhl#nhl fic#hockey fic#hockey smut#nhl smut#jack hughes#quinn hughes#quinn hughes x reader#quinn hughes x y/n#quinn hughes imagine#quinn hughes smut#vancouver canucks
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Television Influence
Homicipher || Mr. Crawling + GN Reader
So... I have no idea how to use Tumblr to write fics But. Consider this my trial before it goes down :3
CONTENTS: (1) mentions & descriptions of murder, (2) kissing
Disclaimer: the part about MC being an assassin is just a hc I came up with. There are spoilers under the cut, though (at least I think I put the cut, idk tho)
So hear me out. Idk if anyone did this yet, but listen: after bringing your sweetheart (Mr. Crawling, obviously) to the real world, things went back to normal. Sort of. You were never really normal to begin with.
********
You went back to your old job, hacking and killing, keeping the bills steady with commissions, yada yada. Corporate worker on weekdays, but at night and on weekends, you're a highly sought out eliminator.
This busy schedule didn't sit right for Mr. Crawling, though. Every time you came back, you noticed that he sat before the door, already waiting for you to twist the knob and push. You installed cameras to try to keep your eyes on what he did, only to find out that if his presence was caught on camera, the film would glitch and blur and static would pepper across your screen. Still, you were able to decipher what he did through the choppy feed.
He stood his ground in front of the door with that small, anticipating grin on his grey face. Your heart ached at the sight, cooing aloud right in front of your victim before you slammed your crowbar into their skull.
That's when you realised you didn't like leaving him for hours on end. You didn't want to make him wait like that.
An idea sparked in your head when you were getting ready for your morning job. Mr. Crawling was still lying on his spot next to yours on your shared bed. You couldn't tell if he was sleeping or spacing out. Did he even need sleep?
You shrugged that thought off and quietly tip-toed your way into your living room. You switched on the TV—which you never used until now—and left the volume at a moderate level before leaving for work.
Truly enough, the sweetheart confusedly crawled over to sit at the front of the screen, watching the rom-com show that just got aired.
You smiled, leaving the monitoring app as you sipped from your favourite morning tea. You checked in on him around every five hours, and he never moved from his spot, not until you were already at your front door, though. The humanoid man seemed to hit a realization and crawled to the front door once again. It's like he already knew when you usually arrived.
He just sat there with that same thin smile on his face, waiting for your return. If he had a tail, it'd be swaying slowly. Patient and hopeful, like a dog.
You pushed the door open, and his chipper laughter rang through the air.
"You home! You home!"
He pushed a chuckle out of your lips, embracing you by the hips as you locked your front door with shaky hands due to his movement.
"Home, home," you nodded, sighing, yet you still smiled. "Hungry? Want eat?"
He giggled again, his smile practically cutting from ear to ear.
You served him his red soup—it wasn't tomatoes, but it was the chunks and blood of your victim last night.
"You enjoy?" You asked, leaning on your palm as you watched him eat. "Thing," you pointed at the TV in the nearby room. "Thing fun?"
Mr. Crawling wiped the leftover soup from his lips, pitch black tongue licking over where the blood was on his hand.
"Thing fun," he agreed. "You more fun. Many more."
You laughed. Thank goodness for all the language lessons you took on his dialect because these little gems that left his cold lips would've flown last your head.
Suddenly, Mr. Crawling paused.
"Want... try something."
"Try?" You tilted your head in confusion, and he mirrored your expression as you uttered a word in English. "More eat? Eat another?"
He giggled. "No!"
Your brows knitted together, and your lips pursed as you pondered. "Try what?"
Mr. Crawling crawled around the chabudai table, already hovering over your lap. His lips formed that same loveable (and slightly uncanny) smile. "You, me..." he gestured between you two with one hand. You nodded along, hoping to understand. "Me, you," you said.
He gestured again. "Not the same. Me, you, different. I saw other—other like you," he pointed at the TV. "Saw many like you. They say love, but they not show. Why?"
"...?" You had to process that for a second. Lengthy sentences in his language were harder to decode. "Er... um," you sighed. "They not ready? Love big, but they know small."
He watched you expectantly, so you continued.
"Uh... love big. Yes. Many meaning. Few word, few say."
"You love me?"
This was a question you got daily. It didn't hurt to answer repetively, but now that you thought of it....
Your hesitation made Mr. Crawling shrink back, his smile slowly turning into pouting.
"No no," you quickly added. "Me love you. You kind. You rescue."
He perked up, his joy bouncing right back. "Me love you!" He chirped.
You sighed, but your breath of relief didn't last long. He took you by the chin, his cold and calloused hands as gentle as he always was, and he poked his lips against yours in a brief kiss.
.
.
.
"You cute," he giggled, and you realised your face went red. "Cute, cute."
"Where did you learn to do that?" You blurted out, confusion and fluttering shyness grasping your stomach like a ruthless vine. "I mean—" you snapped out of it, seeing his confusion. "—how... how you know... do that?"
He pointed at the TV again. "Saw many like you. Say they love they, then they do!"
.
.
.
He saw people kiss?
"You—"
He kissed you again. Did it even count as a kiss? It was more like tapping lips together than a kiss.
"Cute!" He chirped and kissed you again. It didn't take much for you to know that he was pleased with your reddened cheeks and wanted to see it over and over. You counted twenty times before you stopped him, which made him frown.
"I teach," you sighed, your shyness wearing off. He practically bounced at your words. "I teach you how. My language, I call 'kiss'."
He tilted his head.
You said it again. "Kiss."
"....Ck...ck..."
"Kiss." You nodded.
"Ki...iss?"
You patted his head in approval. "Kiss."
He giggled. "Kiss! Kiss! Me kiss you!"
You couldn't help but laugh. "I teach you how. Don't move."
He didn't.
When you leaned in for a kiss, he stiffened, but he didn't move away. You held his hands and brought them to your waist, and then you held the sides of his head, pressing on.
You didn't take it too far, no—he wasn't really ready for English yet, let alone French if you know what I mean.
"....Me kiss you," you said.
It was almost as if steam was blowing out of his ears. The place around his cheeks darkened into a deeper grey, and you laughed. Before you could comment, however, he pounced at the chance to kiss you again before you changed your mind.
********
Erm so this was kinda ass LMAO
It's just practice anyway 😞 didn't proofread either so I guess that'll be my bad when I wake up tomorrow to see a bajillion of mistakes
#♡ azalea ♡#homicipher#homicipher chapter one#homicipher x reader#mr crawling#mr. crawling#mr. crawling x reader#mr crawling x you
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Hiya! I'm Ashe! One of the main fronters of the DarkMage Nugget System, runner of of this account, and main artist! Fennec kitsune/shapeshifter as well. (She/Her) Welcome to the DarkMage Nugget Tumblr!
Creator of Hyper City (With extra lore from friends and Aqua) where a lot of my friends stories are taking place. You can find my commission info here and are open! I do character art, emotes, and more!
System Intros after the break!
Allow me to introduce the rest of the system.
Iris- (She/Her)
Iris is the host of the system. She has her own blog here ( @iristhedarkwitch - 18+ only). She is the witch of our system, and also the current host. Specializing in transformation spells fictionally, and energy manipulation in practice. One of my girlfriends as well. And Aqua's girlfriend too.
Aqua - (She/They)
Aqua is the writer of our system. Also has a blog of their own over here ( @nuggetofthesea ). She is an elf with (currently) 3 forms. A base, a sea, and a shadow form. She is the one responsible for most of the lore in Hyper City, and is usually the calmest of us and just loves hanging out by vibing in the room. Also girlfriend. Also dating Iris.
Chaos- (She/Her)
Chaos is a gremlin. Is always interested in things that are high-energy and fast paced. She plays games on stream on fridays at 4:00 PM Pacific. She is also the most direct of us (Though speaks a little rough) and able to put things bluntly and deal with scenarios we wouldn't be able to otherwise. She can by hyper, but cares greatly for everyone in the system. Usually spending time with Aria.
Mira - (She/They)
Mira is the organizer of the headspace. A crystal fairy who is able to duplicate herself up to up to 30 of her at once, she manages the entire headspace and the thoughts and memories of system members. Keeping the memory archive as a collective reference for us to go back to. They do tend to be able to handle multitasking better than the rest of us, but tends to stay out of the front unless she is needed (or wants to troll us, because when she enters the front we all see what she sees. All 30 of what she sees at once). She keeps everything organized.
Aria - (She/Her)
Aria is a puppy. She's just a big strong puppy. She is the sweetest person in existence. She can't really communicate well verbally or over text. But can communicate through images, emotes, barking, and through me or Chaos. Would protect anyone physically if needed, but we try to not have that be needed. She is too sweet! If she shows up, give her headpats. She absolutely loves them. ^-^
Nova - (They/It/Fae)
A trickster fae that has found its way into our system. Rarely calls anyone by name, and speaking with a scottish Accent, they are playful and tricky. But likes to fly free. Bound to it's "Little Fox" (me) in terms of willing to listen her, but will chime in at any time it wants. So if I ever speak with a scottish accent, that's Nova.
And just some more examples of my character design work. These aren't part of the system (As far as I know) but are still characters I use often.
#artists on tumblr#lgbtq community#artwork#trans artist#original art#character design#trans woman#Plural#Plurality#Plural system#Kitsune#Witch#Elf#Gremlin#Fairy#Puppy#Fae#commission info#commissions open#art commisions#Lesbians#Gay#therian#otherkin#furry#lgbtq+#lgbtq#lgbtqia#emote artist#character artist
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Is it possible to enjoy g/t without it being a kink? /genq
100% yes. Many people in the g/t community like it without it being sexual or kinky in the slightest. In fact that’s why (at least on tumblr) there is a clear split between the kinky side and the soft side (aka Macro/micro for kinky stuff and g/t for non-kinky stuff)
But anyways; yes you can enjoy g/t without it being a kink. Most people use it as a coping mechanism and a comfort thought. Like for those who like the idea of being tiny, it’s the idea of being so small that the world’s problems can’t reach you, hidden away from prying eyes and crazy ideas. For those who like being giant it’s about being seen about being strong enough to fight the world and protect those they love. Size-shifters basically shift between the two, usually based on their mood. Although these aren’t the only reasons people like being Giant/tiny, there are many more but i just wanted to give a basic idea and I guess some psychology. Heck, Some like seeing things from a new perspective, a sense of adventure in something we see everyday. Then there’s also the mini collectors and also the enjoyment of “here’s a tiny object but BIG” (I mean giant cards? Hell yes I’m playing with those!!)
Lots of people are into it non-sexually. Cause there are so many aspects to g/t than just sex. There’s the trust building (and in some stories breaking) which, at least I believe, is one of the most essential parts to g/t; the trust. Trusting someone so big to not hurt you and trusting a tiny to not run away. There’s also the comforting stuff; like being hugged by someone so large that you just get all the stress and worries squeezed out of you with so much care so that you don’t actually pop. Having someone so small put all their effort into just hugging you and it’s not much but they’re doing everything they can to show how much they care. There’s the initial interaction where each party is frozen in time, and neither knows how to act, with their minds racing “what now?” Type thoughts run through their minds. There’s stories simply put into a g/t setting like fairies. There’s so much and there are so many scenarios out there that don’t involve g/t as a kink (Me and many others have shared these scenarios) Theres so much and there are many movies centered around g/t (like The Borrowers and the BFG) most of which are made for kids.
Heck I was into g/t as a kid (I just didn’t know what it was called) I grew up watching the 1997 movie The Borrowers and Honey, I shrunk the kids. I rewatched those so many times. I was fascinated by seeing the world from the tiny perspective. Seeing normal day things huge, it just sparked my young mind. I would daydream about it whenever I could (mostly school and church but still) The idea of being small or interacting with someone huge OR being big or interacting with someone small; it just made me all giddy. It made me smile and it might’ve been a coping mechanism but i genuinely enjoyed the stories too. I read the entire borrowers series in one month cause I was that into it. As a kid I didn’t even know it was a kink or could be, I just enjoyed it for what it was.
So yeah, you can definitely enjoy g/t without it being a kink. As they say, there’s always 2 sides to the giant quarter.
If you or anyone else out there, has any more questions about g/t, don’t be scared to ask! I’ll try my best to answer questions about it.
#g/t#anon#gianttiny#Giant tiny#giant/tiny#gt#ask#I might have rambled a bit too much there sorry#I’ve just been into g/t for as long as I can remember#but 100% yes g/t doesn’t have to be kinky#we mostly wholesome here with a small side of angst once in awhile
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Sorry haven���t been on tumblr for a while and idk if you still want this haha
Not really an opinion per se but what do you think the Bad Omens Boys (plus Matt) love languages are? I headcanon Matt as physical touch and maybe subtle acts of service?? For some reason
Would love to hear your thoughts💕
Okay I love this! More under the cut
So the five love languages:
words of affirmation
quality time
acts of services
gifts
physical touch
Jolly
So I see Jolly as the mature one of the group, he has this calm aura around him, so I see him as a words of affirmation kinda guy, mainly because I think he's good at communication so maybe he doesn't have problems with talking about his feelings. And quality time also fits for him I think.
Noah
So the first that came to my kind was gifts. Maybe because he feels bad for being away on tour he would try to make it up with gifts. Then also physical touch fits him in my opinion. He seems like the guy who always has his hand on your knee, around your shoulder or mindlessly plays with your fingers. Not heavy PDA, even sitting next to you shoulder by shoulder is enough. And I know Noah is kinda often perceived as someone who doesn't know how to talk about his feelings on here, but I think Noah is very well spoken person with rich vocabulary, so I think words of affirmation too.
Folio
Gifts and acts of services, but in a Folio way. Meaning - not expensive gifts and big gestures, but he sees something funny that reminds him of you and he gets it for you. Could be funny keychain or the most useless thing. Acts of services - I can see him helping you clean or cook, again in a Folio way. He keeps singing and dancing around the room, making you do it with him and have a laugh together.
Nick
He seems like a laid back guy, kinda shy and just be happy back home and spend some quality time with you. Could be just watching tv and cuddling together or going on walks or going to see a movie. Also acts of services, buys you your favorite coffee or your favorite shampoo when he sees you're running out.
Matt
I agree with you on physical touch, but in a different way than Noah. I think Matts touches are more intimate, he likes to hug you from behind and squeeze your waist, or puts his hand around your waist and rest his hand on top of your ass, or when he's working at home and you come to bring him food, he puts his head on your tummy and rests his hands on your ass with light pats. Also Matt gives me big yapper vibe, so I think he wouldn't have problem with words of affirmation.
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I have been Processing My Feelings mostly through sleeping a lot (thanks, shark week), cleaning (so much stuff to be done, especially when you're on a budget so everything takes twice as much work), playing Pokemon Go (I SAW AN ARTICUNO, but it fled on me ): but that's okay, I know it only has like a 3% chance to get it, and if I saw one, maybe I'll see another sometime), and binging TV shows/YouTube videos. TV SHOWS THAT I HAVE HAD THOUGHTS ON: - FROM, season 3: I think it might have been a mistake to watch it week to week, because I've watched seven episodes now and it feels like hardly anything has happened this season, like, you only have ten episodes and the wait between seasons is so long! Get back to moving the plot forward! But a lot of people said the same thing about s2 and I found that one to move along great--but I binged the whole thing, so the pacing probably seemed better. I'm still invested, some emotional stuff has happened this season, but I want more answers/plot already!!!! - SHRINKING, season 2: Just as much of a comfort watch as the first season, still pulling a bunch of laughs out of me. The cast is incredible, the writing is funny (I'm a sucker for a Bill Lawrence show, though), and I have had genuine emotional reactions to some of the storylines this season, because I have come to care about the characters. It can be a light watch most of the time, one to put on when I want something to laugh at, but it can pack a punch in the way it needs to. - ENGLISH TEACHER: I think every episode got me to laugh at least once, most of them got me to laugh out loud multiple times. Some people are going to find it kind of preachy or tryhard, but I felt like it was trying to take an honest look at this one person's attempts to navigate the difficult societal elements at play (being gay in your 30s, no longer a kid, not a boomer, but not always seeing eye-to-eye with where the younger generation is, wanting to do the right thing versus not always knowing what that is, trying to be empathetic while being genuine, etc.), and if nothing else it got me with the sideswipe at Tumblr. That hurt, you guys, but also LOL. - 9-1-1, season 8: Still very much worth watching (especially every time Eddie is a hot mess and kind of a bitch, I've never loved him more), but I did not enjoy the Councilwoman Ortiz storyline (it felt more mean-spirited than I wanted) and I'm not looking forward to catching up on this week's episode (I've heard some of what happens), but overall, it's still a comfort place for batshit storylines. BEENADO WAS HILARIOUS, everything about Athena on the plane was fun (and less frustrating than her usual cop storylines, I love you, girl, but oh my god), and I even liked the Gerrard storyline by the end. Next to catch up on: Abbot Elementary, binge Squid Game s2 when it comes out, and finally watch The Devil Judge. (Watch, I'll have my schedule all planned out and then probably throw it out the window for Grotesquerie or something, SIGH.) Any other suggestions for comfort shows or just really bingeable recent shows or just tell me what you're watching, so that I can keep my brain off the doomscrolling track!
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Round three, of me endlessly yapping on Reverse AU. I am still VERY new to this.. tumblr asking, notes and whatnot, so.. I apologise if I seem somewhat annoying and bothersome Anyway, less 'bout me, more on blondes! I'm going to try spitballing a few ideas there and there, because I don't have ONE big topic/arc to really focus on, so here we go!
1; Armin being captured after his identity is figured out. There are.. three way's of this going, in my opinion. >First, being that they managed to successfully take him down into the tunnels to capture him, possibly after some convincing by Annie, since he trusts her a lot? (Plus, if Armin sticks around to around S3 when they're all in that Cabin, hiding away from the Military Police and all. I think Annie and Armin would be.. somewhat awkward, between each other. Since, she cares for him, a lot and.. betrayed him.) >Second, same scene where his identity is discovered and remains at the top of the staircase, but more or less breaks down because he doesn't know what is right anymore, he cares for his new found friends, the thought of betraying them crushes his heart, so he gives up and surrenders peacefully. >Third, transforms and makes a run for the walls to dip, which could ALSO go multiple ways, but.. I don't really have much on that. 2; Warriors Reveal, though Armin is now in the midst of it. I cannot see Armin ever betraying Paradis Island and trying to capture Eren (a second time, mind you), now that Reiner decided to reveal their identites to the same bloke he tried capturing too - yikes. Armin could very well try making them surrender, in a subtle way so the situation doesn't escalate, nor turn his own comrades against him. So, he tricks them and everyone. Transforming along the other two to capture Eren, only to fight Reiner along with Eren but obviously ending in failure with Bert's Titan crushing them. On one hand, I think Bert would try getting Armin, though Reiner is too focused on the mission, he ditches Armin and makes a run for it.
3; Armin still gets captured by the Opaki, though he saves Annie from being the one to be captured by it. As fun and simple it would be if she was the one to be yoinked, so they couldn't use the power of the Colossal and rescue her, I decided to go differently with this. While Armin does end up getting captured, he isn't terrified that he can't protect his people, that they need him, without him he'll die. No, he's accepting his fate. They have Annie, they can still blow up the Doomsday Titan and they'll all be fine, he may die but will die at least doing something right for them, finally doing something useful after betraying his friends, and putting his life down on the line, as their Commander.
(I also agree he'd still be the next Commander that Hange would put the title upon, so.. it sorta means a lot, like he finally is one of them in some way? - I dunno, spitballing!) But, ahaa.. Yeah, that isn't happening. Annie is not letting that blonde go, despite they have a clear winning shot here, she is not about to let him die. Not now, there is still more to be said to him, with how she feels. So, the mission of saving Armin is once more! AND, to end it off, I like to think he'd still be suicidal and jump for the Parasite to hold it down along with Reiner, even if there's a chance of him dying from the Colossal's explosion.
I apologise having to read this entire shit-show of ideas in your inbox, I doubt I'll do more to not seem too big of a yapper, but we'll see! I hope everything is going well for you, have a wonderful day/night! Now, I depart. Toodles!
Hello, Rux!!
Please, never apologize for sending an ask! I absolutely love hearing your ideas and I’m very happy to know the reverse AU still resonates with people :D
Okay, now let’s see:
1. I do prefer the second scenario in the staircase scene. Armin at this point has nothing waiting for him back in Marley and as a character he generally prefers ending conflicts with talking rather than fighting so I believe he’d rather strike a deal and resolve this through diplomacy.
2. Now for the Warriors reveal… we do have to consider that this scene occurs very soon after Armin’s own reveal. Like it’s all happening within three days tops. There’s always the possibility that he’s too busy getting interrogated within an inch of his life to even attend these events.
Personally, I’m more curious as to whether Reiner and Bertolt would attempt to convince Zeke to launch an operation to “rescue” Armin at that point, or write him off as a lost cause. I think there’s potential for drama and bitterness in both cases. In the first scenario, you have a Reiner who fought to save Armin getting betrayed by someone he considered his friend, while in the second scenario, you have an Armin even more estranged by his peers in Marley, sad and disappointed they never even cared for him.
3. Here you’re gonna have to forgive me, because I respectfully disagree.
While Armin and Annie would absolutely act the way you described in the event of Armin getting captured by the Okapi Titan, I don’t see why the Founder Ymir would bother to kidnap him. In canon, she only does so because he’s the Colossus and is the only one with the power to stop Eren. So I’m afraid that our girl Annie would have to be the one getting choked by that tongue… (well that was a sentence I’d never thought I’d write xD)
As for the Commander part… I don’t know. On one hand, I do see how meaningful such a gesture would be from Hange, accepting Armin as one of their own wholeheartedly. On the other hand, the idea of an outsider coming in to “save” the Paradisians from their plight and lead them to the truth makes me feel kind of uncomfortable.
Personally, because I’m a useless bisexual with a one track mind, I’d love to see how Commander Annie could work. At the very least I’d like to consider the possibility of her assuming a leadership role. She’s not an out of the box thinker like Armin in canon, but she is very practical and very decisive when it comes to battle. In another world, raised alongside Eren and Mikasa and not as confined by her father and her circumstances, I can see her developing a keen eye for solutions, maybe not outrageous strategies, but clean simple yet effective and devastating in their consequences plans. She’s ruthless, she’s perceptive and she’s willing to give up her life to achieve her means.
Honestly? I’d love to see it explored.
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Period Cramps and Comfort
pairing: tsukishima x fem!reader
summary: you got your period, making you miserable, so you your boyfriend, kei, try’s to make you feel as comfortable as possible
warnings: blood, nakedness but nothing nsfw NOT PROOF READ
a/n: this took me way too long, also i tried to make the text a different color, like gradient or a different type of yellow but tumblr doesn’t have that option, but it’s too much work for me to go on a coding website and i’m lazy and now i’m sad LMAO
“Have you taken any pain medicine?”
“No I don’t know where they are and I don’t wanna look for them because if I move my cramps are gonna start to hurt even though I can feel them right now but I don’t wanna get hurt.” You cry out.
Tsukishima tries his best not to roll his eyes, moving your hair out of your face, you open your eyes to look at him, squished face and slightly opened duck lips staring up at him as he kept moving your hair out of the way.
“Where are they?” He finally says and you sigh in relief.
“On the top cupboard above the counter with the spoons and forks.”
Tsukishima nods, sitting up from the side of your bed and goes to look for the small bottle, going through all the “just incase” medication you had, but he didn’t find the bottle anywhere.
“Are you sure we have any?” He asks as he walks back to your bedroom, making you open your eyes again to follow his figure walking towards you.
“Yeah?!” You cry out, ready to let out a full sob.
Tsukishima sighs, shaking his head. “Didn’t find them.”
The tears start to roll down your cheeks now. To any person it would look like you were crying out for someone’s death, but really you were just in menstrual pain.
Tsukishima looks at you for a moment before speaking.
“I’ll be right back, I’m going to the store-“
“NOOOOOOOO!” You cry again, extending your arm to barely grab on to your boyfriend’s shirt. Tsukishima’s taken aback, looking at you with widened eyes.
“Don’t leave meeeeee!” You cry again, letting go of his shirt to wipe your tears. Tsukishima tries his best to not make a snarky comment at you, so instead, he bends down to your level, now face to face with your puffy face and caresses your cheek.
“I promise I’ll be quick babe.” He whispered, caressing your cheeck and giving you a kiss on the lips. You nod, sniffing as he stood back up and left your room.
Tsukishima went to the nearest convenience store. He found everything he thought of getting for you, thankfully, because he knew if he was gone for more than an hour, you’d probably get more upset than you already were. Grabbing two bottles of tylenol, some snacks, pads, and a small bouquet of flowers, tsukishima left the store and put evething in his trunk.
After about twenty minutes, he came back home, calling out for you.
“Y/n?”
“Eeeehhhhh?”
He set everything in the counter, only grabbing the bottle of tylenol and a glass of water to bring to you.
As he entered your room, he was suprised to see you had changed positions. Your back was now against the bed frame, but your hair was messier than he had remembered.
“Here.” He set the pill on your tongue, tipping the glass of water on your lips. You drank the water and pill with ease, letting out a sigh as you finished swallowing.
“Let’s go shower.” He mumbles, pulling the blanket from your lap. You shake your head, resisting his gripping hand on yours as he gently tries to pull you out of bed.
“Kei it’s gonna be nasty.” You whine but he doesn’t listen, finally getting you up and taking you to the bathroom.
You slowly take off your shirt, whinceing at the movements that made your cramps act up. Tsukishima looks over his shoulder, he’s bending down touching the bath water for the temperature, his glasses slowly falling off his nose bridge.
You kept whining, you felt warm and nasty, it overwhelmed you. Tearless cries came from you, looking at Tsukishima for help. Kei clicks his tongue, standing straight to help you walk closer to the tub.
“It’s okay, you’ll feel better right now.”
Tapping your arm, he grabs the hem of your shirt and you put your arms up, letting Tsukishima take off your shirt. He moves out of your way slightly as you unclip your bra and step into the shower.
As you let the warm water hit your body, Tsukishima took off his clothes as well, setting his glasses near the sink.
“I have blood crust.” You inform your boyfriend who just stepped in the shower, his chest in front of your face. He only hums in return.
For a few minutes it’s silent as Kei massages your shoulders, the warm water helping the tension lessen, and although you were enjoying the massage, you couldn’t help but have the urge to hug him.
You turn around, facing him again. Tsukki looks down at you, his stupid smirk on his face taunting you.
“What?”
“You do have blood crust.”
You stomp your foot and whine, trying to throw water at him but it is no use. Tsukishima laughs, reaching over your shoulder to turn off the shower and start the bath, so you took this as a chance to wrap your arms around him, the pout on your lips turning into a smile.
As the tub started to fill up, Tsukishima got out, wrapping a towel around his waist.
“Stay here,” his tall frame crouches under the bathroom door frame, leaving you behind.
As you wait for your boyfriend, you took this as an opportunity to clean yourself as fast as you could, opening the cap of the bathtub so the now “colored” water drains. You know Tsukki would get pissed off if you’d do this, since it was more convenient if you had just told him that you wanted to get a bit clean first.
Closing the drain again and turning on the water one more time, you stood there, arms hugging your bare body, looking like a wet puppy in the foggy room.
“KEI!” You call out, starting to miss your boyfriend. As if on time, the lanky man appears, a tray of food, bottled juice, your favorite snacks, your favorite scented soap, and a small bouquet of flowers on his hands. You gasp in surprise, a smile spreading all over your face as you move out the way so he can set the things down.
But as you stood there, a sharp pain up your ass hit you, making you flinch and clench your butt. This startled your boyfriend, dropping the things in his hands to the floor with widened eyes as he put his hands on your arms to check what was wrong with you.
“Ow ow ow ow ow ow,” you hiss, eyes closed shut as the excruciating pain continued.
“What happened?” Tsukishima asks, not knowing what to do, his eyes frantically look all over you.
“Butt cramp.” You reply in a pained voice, a small tear going down your cheek from the pain.
“Can you sit down?” Setting the tray in the bathtub and messily setting the things on it, Kei took off his towel and stepped inside the bath, grabbing the scented soap and squirting the liquid around the clear water.
You didn’t respond, the pain was still lingering, your head felt dizzy and your mouth was dry, whatever Tsukishima had said went over your head. He noticed this and gently set the soap down and turned to look again at you.
“Hey,” he said softly placing his hands on your hips and rubbing little circles. You shake your head to focus, droopy eyes looking at him
“Mhm.” You nod your head, the question he had asked you finally settingling in your brain. You step in the tub, turning around so your back is facing his chest, sitting down on the warm water.
The two of you watched some video on his phone on youtube, quietly eating your food and drinking juice.
Every now and then you’d wince at your cramps acting up, but Tsukishima would be quick to massages your tummy and back whenever it started to hurt.
Kei moved behind you, reaching over you to grab the shampoo you two shared.
“Don’t get it in my eyes,” you say through your chewing food, eyes never leaving the video. Tsukki rolls his eyes, squirting a good amount of shampoo into your damp hair and massaging your scalp.
You moan, eyes rolling at the back of your head as you swallow your food.
“That feels good,” you sigh. Tsukki chuckles, the tip of his fingers rubbing against your scalp. He stops, reaching over you to grab some of the snacks he had bought.
You lean your head back for a moment, looking up at your boyfriend who, as he’s chewing his food, looks down at you and smirks.
After your bath, Tsukishima made sure to bring the unfinished food to your bed, settling the small tray table in your spot as you went to change to a warm tshirt of his and some baggy sweatpants.
As you walk over to your shared bed, you put your hand inside your underwear, adjusting your pad. Kei chuckles, shaking his head as he sets a towel on the side of your bed and pats the spot for your to sit in.
You plop yourself on the bed, waiting for Kei to cover you with the blankets, and as he did, you steal a kiss from him, making him kiss you back quickly.
Walking to the the other side of the bed, Tsukishima laid down and covered himself with the blankets, you instantly snuggling up to him, grabbing his arm so you could wrap it around your body.
As the evening went on, you and Tsukki enjoyed the rest of the evening cuddling in bed while you complained every now and then about your pain, mood swings taking over you, and although all Kei wanted to do was to cover your face with a pillow, he took it easy with you, comforting you and letting you chew his ear off, cry on him and kissing him all over his face whenever your mood changed.
And since you need to be on weird positions in order for your cramps not to hurt, you fell asleep with your mouth open, hair all over you and Tsukishima’s face as you laid ontop of him, your drool getting on his shirt.
Tsukishima reached for the control as slowly as he could in order to not wake you up. Turning off the tv, your guys room went dark. Kei closed his eyes, sighing. You shifted on him for a second, making his eyes widen as he looked up at the ceiling, his body stiffened.
Once he heard you snoring again, he led out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, he wiped off your drool from your lip, moving the hair out of your face, and gave you a kiss on the cheek, turning his head around as he drifted to sleep.
#tsukishima kei#kei tsukishima#tsukishima#tsukki#kei#tsukishima kei x reader#kei tsukishima x reader#tsukishima x reader#tsukki x reader#kei x reader#period#period comfort#haikyuu#haikyu#tsukishima x plus size reader#tsukishima x chubby reader#virtual bunny talks
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It is 4AM in the morning, I should hit the bed asap. But I needed some time on my own tonight, because I've been supressing feelings way too much the past months. (Thought post about random thoughts, no clue if they make sense it's 5AM when I post this)
I found it really hard to talk to friends about my emotions as of recent. One reason might be, that I still suffer some pain I endured from the old work enviroment.
Somehow I often just want to be left alone, I feel very drained most of the time. But that often leads to a loop effect and I isolate myself further.
Like, at the old workplace I was expected to do something constantly, if I wasn't working on anything for over 3min I'd get scolded or yelled at. Or my coworker would become an adult baby and behave strangely. The other coworkers never saw anything wrong with him, so I was extremely afraid that everyone else had something against me. My old boss would side with him from time to time. The constant demand to stay productive was so draining.
In the end I got replaced, I mean I thankfully found a new job by then. But a new person came in, another inexperienced young person who seemed nice and all. Not sure how she is doing in that place, either she fits right in, or my coworker is making her endure the same pain, or he just overworks himself as he usually does. A person who had my job before I came, became extremely demotivated there and simply left to another workplace.
I try to explain this a bit to highlight some difficulties I am experiencing atm... I don't talk to family about my feelings that much. I tried but, they get easily offended if I vent too much. I have no called my dad back in a while, I already know when I call him back he will only be offended. Or maybe I am spiraling rn. My head makes things appear worse than they actually are.
You guys see how much stuff I have been doing on tumblr the past months or so. I don't remember how long it's been, but... I am still in this mindset of constantly working and staying productive. I rest when I can but I always get the feeling "I have to stay productive" and work on stuff, even when I am sick. In a way it helps to not fall into thoughht spirals, tho then I don't give myself enough space to rest.
I don't know what my end goal with this endless productivity is supposed to be, I want to be helpful in some way and feel like I belong somewhere. But even right now I feel like something is missing... I can't grasp this thought, I don't know what my end goal is. Been messing with fmodel so much to get the game work on this for datamining, I posted a thread on the fmodel server and they said the game is fully working with it. Which suprised me, that I was able to achieve that. Was I the first one to do so? I always thought there is someone better than me already. I often just think I will be some replaceable object, where someone else just takes my place. And this thought... spirals in a way- where I think very less of me. Stuff like I will be forgotten anyways or hmm someone better comes.
My family treated me like an object at times, not letting me decide what to do. Old coworker did the same and I am expected to just agree to everything they say. I tried extremely hard to fight back at the old workplace but I was always met with a wall.
Sometimes I would struggle venting to friends, because when I felt the lowest I get very clingy. I think when I saw Muir in game I noticed some similarity in him in me for example. Even tho I hate to admit that thought, but I have gotten way better at being less clingy. Maybe it's because I grew up a bit more. I definitely ain't the same like 4 years ago. But not to sidetrack too much... sometimes I would vent to friends and they'd bombard me with advice or, maybe some advice felt off for me. One friend once said that we're replaceable (job related) and that didn't sit right with me. Some of this advice would put me off so much that I would stop talking about my feelings with anyone, or just one small friendgroup. But I don't mention a lot there. I think... I think what I can see with myself is, I distance myself so much from everyone, I don't dm people to have a normal chat (I think I get very confused when I hear people dm each other all the time, what do people dm each other for...?I wouldn't know what to talk about), maybe I hang out on servers. I don't want to look at my main phone because suddenly so much makes me nervous again. I want to be alone the entire time and the meds stop some emotions from popping up.
So I have random outbursts where I would cry. and I really need to sit down after sleep and find a new group therapy.. today
I put ridiculous standards on myself sometimes, not wanting to appear weak and appear "professional". But my imagination of being professional is basically be emotionless and work without problems. Tho this doesn't make sense, perhaps I worry too much since I noticed some people really like what I do here. And I don't want to let people down in that regard. but I don't know how.
Earlier I was debating on wether it is strong if I show my weakness or if it's better to hide it. Tho hiding doesn't bring much for me, it's rather bad.
Yknow an earlier post where I mentioned I really like Roper? I get the feeling one of the reasons I find him interesting is, because the way he appears. He doesn't seem to show emotions that much, rather monotone and seems to be a hard working individual. Who sadly needs to do way more because Rennick makes things more difficult. Tho like, even if you see him in Marine Control later... he just suffers in silence. Ain't like Trots who went full bananas, or Muir feeling extremely anxious and all. Or Addair wanting to call his kids and Rennick just flat maniac. Roper just, sits there and tries to avoid saying much. Only thing he says is to keep Rennick away. Maybe the deleted soundfile of the scene says otherwise, but in my view it feels like idk he just ain't somebody who would talk about his feelings. Maybe Roper is some visual imagination of what I think a professional is, but I think he probably has different problems that could be way worse. Suppressing feelings is not good, I still have a lot to work on, on myself.
I am sadly getting too tired to continue this string of thoughts...I always feel very awkward posting my feelings on the web. I wouldn't know where else to thow them.
I will post something silly after sleep. I made some dumb screenshots ingame that literally made me giggle for half an hour ioudhwioeu. Okay, goodnight
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Choices fandom appreciation shoutouts
This event is so so so lovely and I really want to join in hehe. I'm not great at expressing my thoughts/feelings and stuff but I really wanna try because I'm really thankful for all of u guys!! :)
When I first posted on this account last summer I honestly expected I'd probably post a few things and dip again because I usually don't get much attention on social media platforms. And also wasn't sure if anyone would really vibe with my approach to characters and stories hahaha 🙈.
But instead people were so nice and I felt so welcomed and like 'oh wow people seem to actually enjoy what I do??' And I had so much fun reading the tags left on reblogs of my art and stuff. And alongside that it has been soooo fun to see everyone elses posts and characters and leaving my thoughts on those as well (and slowly getting less shy about it too 💪). And I even started reading fanfic for the first time in my life hahaha.
I feel like I'm rambling but I just really want to say all this haha, it's been so fun being on here! I love drawing everyone's characters and other requests and will keep doing that (like pleeaase dont be shy, I love drawing everyone's characters) because it's fun and it's also kinda how I say 'thank you' for all being so nice to me!! So yeah thank you all for making me feel so welcome the past months! :)
Especially as someone who usually has trouble making friends and putting myself out there due to shyness it means a lot!
Under the cut I'll also put some messages directed at separate people, I'm fighting the lil voice in my head that's shy about this but you guys all deserve to hear it hehe, even if I'm kinda ass at expressing myself like this
But even if not mentioned/tagged I appreciate everyone who supports me/my work so much and I love seeing you guys in my notes!!
@lovealexhunt In the short time I've been here I've noticed you do so much for people and this fandom! I've loved all the fics you wrote that I read so far and love how you write Mal and Daenarya together (and the vampire au OOOO). She's so fun and I loved drawing her interacting with Ripley and will definitely do it again sometime!! And I'm also still so obsessed with the geometric Ripley art and I thought it was so sweet of you to draw that for me aaaa
@lilyoffandoms I always love seeing your art on my tumblr feed and your designs for your mc's!! And I'm still sooo in love with the Ripley drawing you did and that really made my day back then because it was a total surprise too!! In general all the art you've done of my characters has just been awesome and made my day every time!!
@choicesmc I love what you do with all your mc's, when you make picrews for them, the artworks I've seen you do for them and all the info you share about them, you're so so creative!! I love all your writing a lotttt, especially the shorter ones you've been posting lately!! I rly enjoy talking to you in dm's a lot, if it ever seems like I don't it's just me being shy haha 😭. I also love the tags you leave when you reblog my art and when you point out stuff you notice :)
@sapphoschoices Thank you for so often sharing my posts!! And in general always supporting people and sharing their work! I love all the edits I've seen you do and hope you'll keep sharing more hehe. I also read a fic by you for the first time last week and really enjoyed it! Made me wanna replay Desire & Decorum..
@rosesnink Thank you for letting me borrow your mc's a few times when I wanted to draw interactions! I had so so much fun writing back and forth about Rex and Brienne after I posted the art of them together hehe, I always love to see other people with orc mc's in general. I also really like the gif edits you make and your fics I've read so far!
@aria-ashryver You were one of the first people in the fandom who started sharing and commenting on my art and thanks to that I ended up not just posting a few things and dipping forever like I expected hahah. I always really enjoy reading through the tags you leave on the art I post!! I finally caught up to SICSIG a while ago and it was sooo fun seeing what you did with Immortal Desires and all the extra lore and stuff and I can so clearly tell so much love went into it. And your sprite edits are also always so amazing aaaa.
@cadybear420 Thank you for often sharing my posts I really appreciate it hehe. And thank you for letting me draw your mc's a few times, I had sm fun with it haha. And it was really fun talking about Ripley and Evie interactions. I really enjoy your edits, you're so skilled aaa!! I also enjoy reading about your mc's a lot + how you write gnc characters and gnc m×f romance.
@gaiuskamilah I loveeee your art a lot and love seeing it on my feed!! I also really enjoy reading your thoughts on books, characters, themes in books etc. You make me wanna replay BloodBound so bad (and I definitely will do that soon)
@hsslilly-blog I'm sooo obsessed with your art you have no idea. You're rly funny and I rly enjoy seeing your posts on my feed. I really really love how you write characters, like they just feel so real, it's super inspiring!
@mydemonsdrivealimo I really really enjoy your art and everything you share about Jensen and Bryce. You're like The Bryce Mutual to me, anything you say about him is basically canon to me lol. Thank you for letting me draw Jensen a while ago it was SO fun aaaa
@peonyblossom
Thank you for the cover redraw ideas you sent when I asked for ideas, I had sooo much fun drawing the Alpha cover with Kalani and Channing!! I enjoy the bits you share about your mc's and oc's a lot too!
@choicesfandomappreciation
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Ahhh, Tumblr friends, I am absolutely reeling from all the thoughts and chaos over my recent musings on Scott McCall’s morality. You guys showed up, lit up my notifications like a wildfire, and it’s honestly blowing my mind (and maybe my phone's sanity) that so many of you had thoughts—good, spicy, heartfelt, philosophical, and everything in between.
Now, full disclosure: I’m new here, and it’s safe to say I’m swimming in a sea of reblogs and comments that I genuinely can’t keep track of. My over-caffeinated brain is blinking at this tidal wave, but I can’t even begin to know who I’ve responded to and who’s still waiting for my thoughts. So, from the depths of my overwhelmed heart, I am sorry if I haven’t replied to you yet (or possibly even re-replied and made it weirder—that happens too).
And here’s the kicker: I’ve got twin toddlers pulling me back to reality. These mini chaos agents keep my life busy enough without the added plot twists Tumblr throws at me. As much as I’d love to dive back in and respond to each and every one of you, right now, it’s just not humanly possible.
But know this: I see you. I appreciate you. I’m still (very clumsily) figuring out Tumblr, and I’ll be trying my best to dive back into the sea of Scott McCall morality debates when I can. Until then, stay wild, stay wonderful, and know that every reblog and comment means more to me than I can put into words. Thanks for making me feel at home in this little corner of internet chaos! 💜
Some musings about Scott's morality (probably not very common and a little controversial)
Scott McCall’s adherence to his no-kill rule can be seen as both a moral stance and a psychological defense mechanism, shaped by his own fears, insecurities, and desire to preserve his innocence. At its core, Scott’s refusal to kill, even when faced with situations that may arguably call for it, reflects a deeper internal struggle to maintain a clear sense of right and wrong. However, this rigid adherence to his ideals, especially when it leads to others suffering, reveals underlying contradictions in his character.
Scott's moral code is largely centered on protecting his own sense of innocence and moral purity. By clinging to the no-kill rule, he avoids the emotional burden of directly taking a life, even if it means allowing harm to befall others. Psychologically, this allows Scott to protect his self-image as a "good" person. His reluctance to engage in lethal violence can be seen as a defense against the guilt and moral ambiguity that would come with making more ruthless choices.
In the case of the Kanima, Scott's refusal to kill Jackson despite the clear threat he posed to others shows how his need to maintain his moral boundaries outweighs the immediate threat to those around him. His insistence on finding non-lethal solutions, while noble, reflects an almost selfish prioritization of his internal morality over the safety of others.
There’s also an aspect of moral superiority in Scott’s unwavering no-kill stance. He often positions himself as the moral compass of the group, but this also gives him a sense of control over situations. By dictating that no one should kill, Scott maintains his leadership position and moral authority. However, this control is built on a framework that isn’t always flexible or responsive to the nuanced, dangerous situations he faces. His rigid moral stance can put others at risk, as seen when lives are endangered by the Kanima’s rampage while Scott focuses on preserving Jackson’s life.
Scott's no-kill rule can be seen as a form of psychological conflict avoidance. Killing someone would force him to confront the darker aspects of his role as a supernatural leader and protector. By adhering strictly to his rule, Scott avoids the internal conflict that would come from crossing that line. In a way, Scott’s reluctance to kill is an avoidance mechanism that keeps him from fully engaging with the morally complex world he inhabits, allowing him to maintain a black-and-white view of morality.
While Scott views his refusal to kill as a form of self-sacrifice, it can often lead to the sacrifice of others instead. In situations like the Kanima case, where innocent lives are at stake, Scott’s refusal to make the hard choice arguably protects his own conscience more than it protects the people he’s responsible for. This can be seen as an attempt to shield himself from the psychological toll of killing, while others bear the physical consequences of his inaction. It’s a form of indirect selfishness—by preserving his own sense of moral integrity, he unintentionally places the burden of suffering on others.
Scott’s no-kill rule is a complex and flawed psychological mechanism. While it is rooted in a genuine desire to be morally upright, it often causes harm by preventing him from making hard but necessary choices. His strict adherence to this rule can be seen as a defense against guilt, moral ambiguity, and the loss of his own innocence, but it also exposes him as someone who prioritizes his internal morality over the safety and well-being of those he is meant to protect. In this way, Scott's idealism becomes a form of moral tunnel vision, where the desire to remain "good" leads to greater harm for those around him.
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Taishin reads as a neurodivergent kid whos ernest curiousity and innocent wasn't forcebily destroyed by the world.
As a neurodivergent person (90% sure currently self diagnosed only) it reads to me that Taishin was probably very loved and very sheltered. He also probably never had that many friends. The sheltering was probably a little to his detrument, but I think it's preferable to the alternative.
He is curious and ernest and eager to learn. Social situations and relationship are confusing. He also feels a lot for others. He latches onto the rules of a stan because that explains what he is feeling and the rules are simple and easy to understand and follow.
The problem of course that Takara doesn't want a stan and you can't have a close relationship (friendship or romantic) to someone you are stanning.
And also I think Taishin realized at the end that he wasn't a stan, or at least was about too, because even on the surface the idea of being a stan matches to what he was feeling. The idea of not being hable to be next to Takara or interact with him in any way made him sad.
His questions are not being answeared (as @lurkingshan pointed out here) and he doesn't know how to navigate new feelings or new situations with no guidence or knowledge of how to correctly identifying what the feeling of being in love or having a crush is.
There is only an actress for a Taishin Mom and we only saw a Mom and a sister in the phone call in the previous episodes. So I think his Mom might have been a single Mom. And he doesn't read to me as someone who is super into media or fiction or watching tv. That plus the sheltering and protecting and not having a relationship to observe probably left him very unware about love in general.
I definately agree with @lurkingshan that Takara is not answearing his questions because he wants Taishin to arrive there on his own and because of his own influence on him.
I think the new relationship between Emiri and Akira might put love and relationship in his head a little more and he will either arrive there on his own or ask for advice from someone else. Maybe Minami since she was so helpful during the welcome party.
I'm very intrigued and curious about Takara's backstory reveal next episode.
Another thing about Taishin that is very neurodivergent coded (at least in a very similar way to what I am personally used to) is that he is pretty good at realizing when he said something "weird" after he said it (he can recognize emotions and reaction in others decently well but not in himself and he is also probably used to getting reactions when he says something that other people find "weird"), but he doesn't seem to be able to recognize if something is "weird" to ask before hand.
Also the umbrella clutching at end, and how it turned to tense and stiff to exicted fidgeting. Perfection.
#ITA Original#takara's treasure#takara no vidro#i love this boy so much#i just wanted to write some thoughts down#trying to put more of my thoughts on tumblr
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my attempt at a bunch of my fav artists styles :] idea by sootnuki!!
i would love to do more but this was already a huge challenge
if any artist here dislikes this/is uncomfortable with it/any reason i can take it down or turn off reblogs etc. otherwise i hope its ok 🫡 im not gonna tag anyone just gonna let it do its thing in the wild lol
#crunchchute art#my art#sam and max#sam & max#i hope it will be viewable as i dont know how much tumblr will crunch it#in any case i have it up on twitter also and it seems to be in good quality there#it looks like a 'the 7 human souls:' meme hfhdhf#hey i can put more thoughts in the tags right? so first i didnt really put enough effort into my own one and i kinda realized my style#is kinda mid ngl. cause im lazy + this coloring style might not really fit them. anyway.#for sootnukis style i adore the rendering of the clothing folds and stuff but i couldnt get it just right it remains a mystery to me#silcrow i tried to do a traditional drawing but kinda messed up some of the coloring especially on the pants#also couldnt figure out if its just markers or markers + pencils or what. so i kinda did my own take of 90% markers 10% pencils#mtsodie i love the color palettes and the shapes so that was a lot of fun to try; i like the outcome#narnour i absolutely love the tiny little eyes and how goofy and round they look so that was fun to try to replicate too#as well as the colors which i mostly color picked cause i couldnt get a red overlay right#zembo was a nice way to revisit a chalky brush that i havent used in ages not sure if i got it right though#applettoast i feel like theres some gorillaz influence or its at least something i used while coloring. as you might know i used to draw#gorillaz a lot and tried to replicate the coloring etc. and i think it fit here. correct me if im wrong lol#snuckeys was also hella fun cause i love the cartooniness and the details like the teeth showing gums and stuff. hope i did it justice#also the eyes! i love the big highlight and that the eyes are brown its cute#it was nice to branch out for a bit
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got this reblog on one of my posts were i talked about being anxious about the future of the zelda series after totk and-
i even went back and unblocked them just to check my own post and check twice what they meant exactly- but i still dont know how they got to these conclusions
i never said i 'want a good uwu ganondorf' (bc that would mean hes aligned with hyrule bc thats how goodness works!!!!11!1!!!), i also dont think of any of the zeldas as 'whores' (seriously, where did that come from?? neither me nor the addition of someone agreeing with me said anything like that??? did they think bc the addition called tloz misogynistic means we think zelda is a whore????? huh???)
its also funny how they say they want zelda to stay a simple fairytale rather than have 'people like me' bc .. one point i talked about in the og post was how the evil arab thing VS good white people media likes to do so much is so normalized here that its simply seen as a simple harmless fairytale trope instead of a big underlying issue in general media and the writers might not even realize it (which is worse) bc the most 'generic' appeal is to people who dont think of it as a problem in the first place, because it is so normalized
(huh, i wonder about what kind of person that part was about .. hmmmm)
(ALSO funny they mention princess hilda as nuanced villain ... like ... wow they are so nuanced about purple haired people!!- like guess why we want a nuanced/less badly/less flat written ganondorf and what he, in particular, has not in common with other villains! its not his hair color! .... or was that point supposed to mean .. look we have one female character that is a villain, its not misogynistic! idk honestly)
(and the classic, "you just call it this/dont like it bc its not what you wanted !!!!!!!2!"1!112!!")
also funny how its 'never gonna be progressive enough' like asking for the franchise to maybe put a little more thought and nuance into their white divine right vs evil desert man simulator instead of making it worse is already asking too much
(i dont know what the last point has to do with anything??)
(also yes totk is racist, like most if not all of the franchise and a alot of other media as well, shocker- you can still like it though, i and plenty of other people are still fans of it, we just wish they did a little more with their stuff and maybe not make the racism problem WORSE)
(also yes the hyrule monarchy is also evil :))) )
(and also not so secretly so either :)) )
#ganondoodles talks#zelda#ganondoodles rants#ganondorf#wanted to search my blog for the post at first and tumblr showed me two posts and their reblogs#i have so many more posts in this tag#the fuck#.....im sorry to all the zelink shippers with a brain but i cant say im surprised that they were one#i could go through every point in their addition but tbh its not worth any more of my time really#needed to say something though bc .....#yeah no wonder nintendy dont have to put any work into their story if thats how some people react to mild criticism of it lol#who are you fighting for little man?#defending the big corporation from mild criticism from people that want the media they produce to be better??#....... in the end i kinda did go into every point#or what point i thought they were trying to make which ... was rather unclear to me#anyway#wild to come across people like that here#only had one other i can remember but they went straight to insults lol#(was there ever a divine prophecy that said only gan can be king??? how was urbosa or riju on the throne then??-#(wait was that meant as “see? the gerudo have the divine right thing too!! samey as hyrule so they not bad!!”#i am genuinely so confused
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Master manipulator vs Master manipulator
[First] Prev <–-> Next
#poorly drawn mdzs#mdzs#xue yang#a-qing#The scenes with XY and A-Qing are so delightfully tense and anxiety inducing#They are both so deep in the mind games with each other. Convinced they have the leg up when in reality they do not know the full scope#Also is is just me or do XY and A-Qing give off the vibe of internet nemeses?#A-Qing coming in hard with 'Oh you think blind people cant do XYZ? Get canceled idiot'#Meanwhile XY is the kind to purposefully use leet speak in descriptive text to antagonize the screen reader population.#a teen girl and a 4-channer who found his way to tumblr would be awful to watch fight irl but the vibes are equivalent.#Meanwhile XXC is going on a nice little walk to pick grass. I love him so much actually.#through writing these notes I have also gone down the rabbit hole of trying to pinpoint Xue Yang's age. Hello? Is it actually not known?#The best resources I could find put him as 1-3 years younger then xxc and song lan#So? early twenties? late teens? Someone who has absorbed more mdzs knowledge...Please help#Oh no I'm even deeper in the rabbit hole now. What do you mean the ages are mostly just relative?#What do you mean cultivators can age differently (usually slower in xianxia)#Oh no oh no wwx doesn't have a golden core. I was too accurate in my homestuck AU re: lifespans. I want to go back.#(I love angst and am now marinating this thought in my little thinking chamber)
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