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#I might be on here even less because of it
rationaliity · 2 days
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jing yuan, boothill, dan heng with a shorter s/o
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you guys already know how this goes !! we're so back besties !! oh, boothill calls you shortie and a slight amount of angst in dan heng's. mention of yanqing because its jing yuan, duh. GENDER NEUTRAL READER !!
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JING YUAN —
jing yuan isn't a man who really notices height compared to anything else that he might love and adore about you
but he's also not going to kid himself with it and say that he doesn't use it to his advantage at all ever
yeah, he'll tease you here and there about being shorter than him
and sometimes he'll put things high up on purpose so you have to call for him to help
or he'll watch you struggle to do it on your own, which is always amusing, even though he'll never let it go too far
you'll never hurt yourself because of his little jokes, this much he knows
and maybe he's sorry, but you always look so cute when you have to turn to him, pouting, and pointing up to the thing that you want
before asking him if he could reach it for you in such a little voice
how is he supposed to ever say no to you ?
no matter what he's doing in that moment, it could be the most important business that he has to attend to right that second
or the simplest of tasks that he was barely even paying attention to
and he would stop everything just to help you with whatever you needed
he'd give you that cheeky little smile, and hand you the item, his voice holding a gentle tone in it as he asks you what you would do without him
well, your stuff would be on the shelf that you could actually reach it, that's for sure
but you would also miss out on his stupid, small smile as he teased you a little bit
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as per usual, jing yuan found himself swamped in duties. between being the general of the cloud knights and training yanqing, when does he ever really get time to himself ? that was a question he often pondered himself, although he was sure that if he spent less time thinking about how busy he was always, he would have more time to relax. but ah, sometimes it can't be helped at all. and that's okay. he signed up for this lifestyle the moment he became general, and that was just ultimately the truth.
although, today he did find himself exponentially luckier than he typically is. because today, he had you by his side, something that he found himself missing more often than not. he was so busy it was often hard for him to stay in one place for him to have you over, but today all of his duties neatly aligned him to one place for the majority of the time.
he found himself watching you wordlessly as you swung your sword, showing yanqing the perfect technique. " see, yanqing ? move your foot over a little more to the right, and don't slouch so much ! " you chastised gently, your hand smoothing over his back as you reminded him to keep his posture correct at all times. he didn't want to end up with a bad back because he had neglected to take care of himself, after all. " now, when you swing your sword, hold it steady. be careful where you strike, your every move needs to have an intention behind it. careful and merciless, strong and delicately intricate. do you understand ? "
after your teaching, you brought your own wooden sword up to him, practice sparring with him get him comfortable fighting against you. you'd made it a point to even have your hand behind your back, however.. perhaps you overshot yourself, and soon found yanqing's sword lodged in a tree. " er.. " you looked at it, sheepish as you glanced at yanqing, and then at jing yuan. " my love ? may i- "
before you could even finish, jing yuan was plucking the sword out of the tree, a content smile on his face as he looked at you and his precious student getting along so well. " of course, my dear, " he hummed in satisfaction, having just been looking for a chance to join in. " perhaps you wouldn't mind a third sword ? one that won't get stuck in a tree, if we're lucky. "
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BOOTHILL —
first off lets just get it out of the way that he's going to call you shortie no matter how short you actually are
no matter whether you're just barely an inch shorter than him, or an entire foot shorter
you're ' shortie ' to him, no matter what. nothing you can say or do will change that, it's just your life now
he's going to do that fake comparing heights thing where he puts his hand to his forehead and then moves it straight across, and make it a big deal
he thinks its hilarious that you're shorter than him and it is comedy gold to him
you're just so... short, and cute. he can't help his immediate reaction is to tease the fudge out of you
plus, he thinks its so super funny whenever you pout and ignore him for a little while
he knows its not going to last a long time, so he'll let you have your temporary fun
especially since he knows exactly how its going to end, with you asking him to come help you, or ultimately completely forgetting anyways
usually, its latter, but sometimes, so very rarely, the comedy aeon shines on him, and allows him this perfect opportunity
he'll tell you he's sorry, after he makes it a point to obnoxiously bend down to give you a kiss on your forehead
but you'll take what you can get with him, honestly
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" aeons above ! boothill, you're so mean sometimes ! " you announced, as if this were something new to the both of you, making the cyborg man chuckle a little with how silly you honestly sounded to him. " can't you give me a break just this once ? please ? " you sounded desperate, but he knew it was just an act for you to try to get him to leave you alone.
" well, fudge, when ya put it like that, i'll do anything ya want me to do, shortie, " boothill chuckled a little bit as he spoke, wrapping his incredibly heavy arm around your shoulder, making you struggle slightly just to attempt to pull him off of you. " ya sure do look cute like this, ya know that ? look atcha, the picture of fudgin' adorable ! "
you swore that if he didn't tell you he loved you so often, you would have no idea that he had any positive opinions towards you at all, much less romantic feelings of you. but this was boothill, and being playfully obtuse was just the game of the game for the space cowboy.
" you're the worst, you know that, boothill ? "
" mhm, but tell me again. "
you rolled your eyes, pulling away from him completely, with your arms crossed. " fine ! you're the worst, boothill ! now, if you'll excuse me, i'm going to go finish my night routine so i can go to bed properly, thank you. " with that, although you hadn't really said anything snarky back to him, you felt like you won this time, and pushed off on your heels to go finish getting ready for the night.
ten minutes later you've realized that you can't reach where you put your cleanser from when you had been cleaning up earlier today, although you were sure you had put it back on the sink where it usually was. you'd been on a stepstool cleaning up the top of the bathroom mirror, and had just been throwing things up on the shelves on the inside without thinking about it. karma's a son of a nice lady sometimes, aint she ?
" hey, boothill, baby ? " you called out from the bathroom in a squeaky little voice. when he arrived, all you did was quietly point at the cleanser, and he grabbed it for you with a light laugh. " thanks.. "
" what happened to me bein' the worst, shortie ? don't think i'm the worst when i can actually reach the top shelf. "
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DAN HENG —
did not notice that you were shorter than him, and honestly did not care
not even a little bit, not even as a shameless realization that you needed him
i mean, sure, he loves feeling needed, but he appreciates it when you need his mind more than something arbitrary about him that he couldn't control
just like he knows that you appreciate it more when he likes you more than just your height, which is how he's always seen you
dan heng is a man who doesn't care about physical appearances even in the slightest bit
he will always love your mind more than your body, and that's just the truth
i can't think of a situation where dan heng would enjoy being taller than you, but he does enjoy when you need his help with matters
and there are times that being taller comes in handy, too
like when the two of you are out trailblazing, he's so quick to grab you and put you behind him at a moment's notice
using his entire body to shield you, and knowing that you were okay behind him
he will protect you at all costs, its just easier now that he doesn't have to worry about your head being hit as long as you're behind him.
you will always, always come first. he'd put himself in harms way time and time again, even if he prefers to think things out rationally beforehand
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" negotiations have failed, " stelle whispered, shifting from one of her feet to the other tentatively, her entire body tensed up. " but when do they ever work ? "
normally, dan heng would think of something dry to comment in this situation, but he couldn't think of anything to come up with, not with you there. you were out of reach for him, caught in between march and stelle, and also in the first line of sight for the enemy that they were now going up against.
this is, objectively, his worst nightmare. he can't get to you, which is his biggest fear. that he wouldn't be able to get to you when you need him the most. dan heng realistically knows that you can protect yourself, but he also knows that people are relentless sometimes, and you were softer than he was by a whole lot. you always saw the best in people. you saw the best in him, after all. he was terrified that you were going to see the best in someone who maybe didn't deserve it and get hurt in the process. and it seemed to be coming true right in front of him.
" wait, stelle, before we draw our weapons- " you started, your hand outstretched as you turned to look at the nameless, shaking your head. " i think we're okay- i mean- "
he saw it coming before you did, the drawing of their weapons, the readiness in their stance to fight. all hesitation he may have had to push march and stelle out of the way died the moment he saw the sharpness of the blade in the enemies' hands. dan heng found himself reaching in between the two girls, grabbing your wrist harshly, pulling you back.
" watch out-! " dan heng yelled, throwing you behind him before you could find something to respond to him with. you were save, you had to be safe. everything else was secondary. and he was just in time it seemed. right where you had been standing previously, there was a polearm stuck into the ground, the sharp tip embedded so deep into the ground that he just knew it would've been a kill shot for you.
" d-dan heng ?! " you yelped, your eyes blown wide as you looked at where you had been. you pressed your forehead against his back, clearly and visibly shaking. you swore you felt a tail wrap around your form, keeping you close. " thank.. thank you. "
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— ♡ rationaliity 2024
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mxstellatayte · 2 days
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Hii could you write a smut one shot w sub Carlos and dom reader?
HOLY JEEZ MY FRIEND
I MOST CERTAINLY CAN HERE YOU GO
(you said one shot and i heard 1.5k words of PURE PORN)
nsfw under the cut <3 minors please do not interact!
warnings: very not beta read! carlos is a whimperer i don't make the rules, friends to fuck buddies to idiots in love, bro meets jesus, legal use of alcohol, making out, sex under the influence, creampie, hickeys, open ending, stupid fluffy vanilla bullshit
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it started out with one too many shots of shitty tequila after mexico 2023 and a chayanne song.
gods damned mexican liquor.
max had, yet again, won, except this time, he had broken yet another record. so of course he invited everyone on the grid and their friends out to drinks.
"come on, lia, a couple of drinks won't hurt! plus, i can probably rope carlos into paying."
you and carlos had grown up together in madrid, and you'd always been his biggest supporter in the garage. it didn't matter who else he could've brought along, because when the two of you have a connection so deep that all you need to do to laugh is make eye contact after anyone says something even remotely sexual.
there was always an air of awkward tension between you since that time you accidentally walked past his bedroom door and heard him moan your name. you just pray that, with all the nights you've spent at each other's houses, he's never heard you moan his name while you fingered yourself across the thin walls.
and so here you find yourself, in the center of the dance floor in a club in the heart of mexico city following the grand prix weekend, your heart pounding, your confidence blooming, and your ass grinding up against carlos' crotch to the rhythm of mi gente by j balvin, his large hands resting on your hips.
you aren't sure how the idea springs into your mind, but you'll blame it on the liquid courage. as the next song comes on, you spin around in carlos' hold, your right leg slotting between his own, and that's when you realize it. he's hard. a smirk tugs at your lips and when you look up at his face, your eyes meet and that's when you know. if you don't get out of this stifling club and back to your hotel in the next ten minutes, you might just have to fuck him in one of the vip rooms. your hands come up to rest on his chest and you hinge forward, your lips directly next to his ear.
"you wanna get out of here?"
"please," he says, and the pure desperation in his voice makes your stomach erupt in butterflies.
"then let's go." you grab his hand off of your hip and immediately book it out of the club. thank god your hotel was less than one block down the street, because if you had to drive anywhere, you might've just sucked him off inside the car. your feet hurt from your heels, but with your level of arousal and in your drunken state, you couldn't care less. all that you care about is that this elevator is moving way too slow and that carlos' lips feel so good on your own. the kiss is hot, wet, and messy, a flurry of lips and tongue and teeth, hands scrambling to hold whatever they can.
the elevator reaches your floor, and you've never run faster in heels. you're holding carlos' hand, the two of you running down the hall like a pair of horny teenagers (which, being entirely honest, is the mental state you've been reduced to at the concept of finally fucking your best friend,) and laughing uncontrollably. you almost fall over laughing when he fumbles through his wallet for his keycard, drunken fingers lacking any sort of dexterity. the sound of the door finally unlocking is your favorite sound at the moment, and you throw the door open, push carlos against the nearest wall, and kiss him harder than you've kissed anyone before.
your right hand holds the side of his neck, the tips of your fingers barely weaving into his hair, while your left goes down to cup his incredibly hard cock through his jeans. palming over his erection pulls some of the greatest sounds you've ever heard from him. forget hearing him moan your name through the wall as you pass- instead, hearing his whimpers at your hand is the greatest thing you've ever heard in your whole life.
"are you okay with this?" you pant, your lips coated in a mixture of both of your salivas, carlos' eyes heavy with lust.
"i've been hoping and praying for this for years, amor. please. i need you." without hesitation, you pull him back to you and kiss him with no mercy. he pushes back, stepping forward and eventually gently laying you down on the bed. "need this off," he says, tugging at your dress as he undoes the clasps on your heels and throwing them across the room.
"zipper. back. fuck." his hands somehow regained the dexteriety he lacked five minutes ago as he expertly undoes the zipper of your crimson dress and helps you shimmy out of it.
"ay, diós, you're beautiful." you're left laying on the bed in just your strapless bra and black panties, carlos way too overdressed, and his eyes admiring your body. his lips continue kissing down your neck as his hands reach beneath you and unclasp your bra, hands immediately cupping your tits.
"mm, carlos, as amazing as this is, i need you inside of me in the next sixty seconds."
"as you wish." carlos strips as fast as he can as you pull your panties off, and when he slides into you slowly, you throw your head back and grasp at his upper arms, your breaths heavy and labored. "oh... oh, fuck." his forehead presses to yours when he finally bottoms out inside of you, your breaths mingling as you hold him as close as you can.
"carlos, please. move. i can take it." you emphasize your point with a clench around his girth, and your body heats up infinitely more when he whimpers.
"'m not gonna last long if you keep doing that," carlos groans, and you tease him once more with another flutter of your walls around him.
"i'm not either, but i need you to fuck me right now, baby." he responds by pulling his hips back, then pushing back into you. he maintains a steady pace, and your moans continue with every punching thrust. "feels so good, baby, just like that."
"keep... keep doing that. please?" from the way his dick twitched inside of you when you praised him, who would you be to deny him such a request when he asked so nicely?
"mmgh, carlos, so good. faster, baby, please, i'm close. i'm so close." his hips snap into you faster, and you moan loudly as your nails scrape at his broad back and shoulders, surely leaving marks that will raise and turn red with time. with the pain, carlos' volume matches your own, and you can't help but grin as he bites at your neck, leaving his own marks for you to admire later. you yell with his left thumb comes to play with your clit, finding the bundle of nerves after a moment of searching, and he rubs tight hard circles that have you cumming hard.
"oh, fuck, carlos, i'm cumming, i'm cumming, oh my god. just like that baby, so good, so so good." you're reduced to a babbling, mindless, moaning mess, and your eyes are held open as they focus on carlos' face, eyebrows creased in pleasure, lips hanging open, and eyes shining with pleasure.
"i'm gonna cum, amor. i'm... where? where do you want it?"
you don't hesitate for an instant before mumbling out an "inside. inside, baby," and carlos' hips stutter and he cums inside of you with a groan. the warmth of his cum inside of you turns you on more than you could ever imagine, but you're too exhausted and fucked out to even consider a second round at the moment. "just like that, baby. just like that. ah~" you moan one last time when he pulls out of you, both of you panting and gasping hard for breath. carlos flops down on his stomach next to you, completely boneless and fucked out, and drapes his right arm over your waist.
"thank you," he mumbles into your neck. "i've wanted to do that for years."
"so have i," you say, the post-orgasmic haze crawling over your body. your eyes are heavy, but they snap open when you hear what carlos says next.
"you aren't that quiet, and your walls are thin."
your head rises from the pillow to look down at him. "cabrón, are you telling me you heard me moan your name and you didn't tell me?!"
"yeah, i guess so. i wanted to tell you after we finished secondary school, but you were with that other guy... what was his name? manuel? mateo?"
"matías," you laugh, bringing your hand that isn't gently playing with his hair up to your face, giggling hysterically. "i only got with him in hopes that you'd get jealous or something!"
"en serio? we were that blind?"
"i guess we were." you both burst out in laughter at your dual idiocy, but as you calm down, sleep takes its grasp on both of you, and you eventually succumb to its hold, safe in each other's embrace.
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Hello, I'm not sure if you've explained it or not but going in the depths of Malleus and Leona's character relationship? Like explaining their interactions and how they actually think of one another
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Many fan works tend to depict Leona and Malleus as extremely antagonistic toward one another. However, the truth is that their relationship is more like a one sided dislike or annoyance (on Leona’s part). It’s not uncommon for them to bicker or have some tension in their conversations even when they have the same goal in mind such as protecting a harp (Beans Day) or wooing a ghost (although Malleus is not participating for the latter, Leona still insists the ghost would prefer him to Malleus to get that dig in). They’re definitely still on bad terms), but Malleus is generally pretty neutral with Leona unless he is provoked.
Leona’s beef with Malleus is story relevant and makes itself known in book 2. He appears to primarily dislike Malleus because it is thanks to his sheer power that Diasomnia crushes Savanaclaw every inter-dorm tournament, essentially dashing Savanaclaw students’ hopes of being scouted and going pro. Buuut it seems like from the way Leona speaks about his rival, he has long since held these feelings and they aren’t linked to a single inciting incident.
Part of why Leona dislikes Malleus in general seems to be Malleus’s attitude. Leona describes his fellow prince as “pretentious”, “high and mighty”, and acting in ways that show disrespect to him (like in Malleus’s Dorm Uniform vignettes, when he casted a spell meant for objects on Leona). He may also take issue with Malleus’s “incomprehensible fae humor”, which Leona references both during Halloween and in Malleus’s Ceremonial Robes. Additionally, Leona outright states that he hates people who refuse to listen (Silver) and just march to the beat of their own drum (Rook), which are traits you can argue also fits Malleus (since Malleus didn’t really listen to the upset dorm leaders in his Dorm Uniform vignettes). Leona appears to prefer dealing with Malleus to Silver though, as he says that Malleus’s ears aren’t just “for show”. Interestingly, Leona might dislike Malleus less than Rook; Leona is wary of so much as wishing Rook a happy birthday and refuses to dine next to Rook… yet Leona does sit next to Malleus at the end of Terror is Trending.
Leona is one of the few students who isn’t afraid of Malleus and has the gall to openly insult him (or is rude) on more than one occasion. He doesn’t really show any remorse or intent to apologize. In fact, Leona understands very well what bothers Malleus and often acts on those points of weakness to goad him, whereas it is very rare for Malleus to start the fights. For example, Leona tells Malleus in Malleus’s Ceremonial Robes vignettes, “You thinkin’ you’re gonna get it next time? Well, sorry to break it to you, but no one’s ever gonna invite you,” and, “You’re never gonna have a chance to wear those robes, so put’em away for good already.” This, of course, angers Malleus and leads into the two insulting one another’s physical features and exchanging threats (removing horns, declawing, calling each other animals or implying a lack of humanity, etc.). They similarly insult one another in Terror is Trending (again, Leona instigates: “Hmph, look at Mr. High-Horse over here. Were you flattered to be asked [to have your picture taken]?”) and again in Fairy Gala (Leona again: “Ever consider gettin’ off your tail and cleanin’ up your fellow fae’s mess?”). I’m sure there are tons of other instances you could come up with; these are just the immediate ones that come to my mind. Funnily enough, Lilia and Silver see these heated conversations as proof of Malleus and Leona’s friendship. I feel like this could also, in part, feed into Leona’s dislike of Malleus, as people having the wrong idea about your relationship can be irritating.
Now, Malleus does appear to care about maintaining amicable relations with representatives of other countries. Often it is he who instructs Sebek to apologize to Leona for being rude—two major instances of this occur in Malleus’s Ceremonial Robes vignettes and during Vargas Camp. He even personally (and happily) welcomes Leona to Diasomnia in his Ceremonial Robes vignettes, viewing Leona as no different than any other guest.
This goes into the realm of speculation (so please bear with me!!) but it could be said that Malleus has a very… unique view of friendship? So Lilia and Silver may not be too far off when they say that Leona and Malleus are chums in their own weird way. In Glorious Masquerade, Rollo poses a real threat to Malleus and to his people—yet when Malleus experiences genuine fear for the first time, he seems more excited at the novel feeling rather than cower as a result of it. Following the climax, Malleus still presents the song he had prepared as a gift of good will for NBC. He also proceeds to play with Rollo’s guilt to get him to agree to sharing a dance. And THEN Malleus says he looks forward to being invited again????? These are all quite friendly gestures for someone who put you and all your people in danger, my guy… 😂 So perhaps Malleus just gas a very different way of approaching friendships? Hard to say, but that’s some food for thought!
Leona and Malleus have had moments of amicability, so it’s totally possible for them to get along. This happens primarily in Leona’s Union Jacket vignettes; in them, Malleus gifts the birthday boy an antique book in an ancient language (Leona’s best subject). The two then talk about enjoying the freedom of walking around town without an attendant or some servants trailing after them. Being of a similar social status, they are able to understand one another to some extent.
This is going into another point of speculation, but I wonder if Leona and Malleus recognize their similarities beyond this interview. I certainly have; they’re both arrogant princes that deeply desire what the other prince has, and I feel that their animosity, in part, comes from this realization (whether conscious or unconscious). I certainly get the sense that some of Leona’s hatred of Malleus comes from seeing his own desires manifested in him—of being that coveted prince praised for his power, his people lavishing him with affirmations, a crown… All the things Leona doesn’t have.
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wip · 2 days
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AH ANOTHER ONE, POST LIMITS!!!!!
I don't know why we're still only using 250 posts per day across all blogs. I hit this SO often and it's extremely frustrating. Are there plans to raise this???? Double it to 500?? Make it 250 PER BLOG at least???
Something that isn't just roughly ten posts an hour, which can go by extremely fast when you're trying to support artists and various crowdfunding efforts. There's not even a way to increase post limit with an ad free subscription, this seems like something that doesn't need to stay the way it is and i feel like we should talk about this and figure out a better number.
I get how limits help fight back against spam, but last week i kept hitting post limit early in the day because the counter resets at 9pm for me - so all of my late night posts + everything that piled up in the queue since i was blocked all day before 9pm gives me significantly less room to work with the next day. I am not spam, i am a human being, and doing regular organic activity is getting me driven off the site!!! the way this feels is like do you want us on here or not lol?? why are we being punished for finding it engaging, I do not think 250 is a reasonable limit.
250posts/24hrs is 10.4 posts an hour, and is all you have to work with regardless of how many other side blogs you maintain. There's not even a way to see how many posts you have left for the day, I think post limit needs addressing!!!! or at least some kind of acknowledgement to start!! 250 forever just does not make sense
Answer: Hi there, @cinna-bunnie!
A little tease for y’all, because we just can’t help it—we hear you loud and clear. We are working on this, and we think you should stay tuned.
👀
You’ll know more soon, and we like to think you might like what you see. Have a great day, and keep the questions coming, folks.
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deoidesign · 9 hours
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How I save time on backgrounds as a full-time webcomic artist
Hi! I make webcomics for a living, and I have to be able to draw a panel extremely fast to keep up with my deadlines. I draw about 50 panels a week, which gives me about 45 minutes per panel if I want any semblance of a healthy work-life balance.
Most webtoon artists save time on backgrounds by using 3d models, which works for them and is great! but personally I hate working in 3d... I went to school for it for a year and hated it so much I completely changed career paths and vowed never to do it again! So, this is how I save time without using any 3d, for those of you out there who don't like it either!
This tactic has also saved me money (3d models are expensive) and it has helped me converting my comic from scroll format into page format for print, because I have much more art to work with than what's actually in the panels. (I'll touch on this later)
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So, first, I make my backgrounds huge. my default starting size is 10,000 x 10,000 pixels. My panels are 2,500 pixels wide, so my backgrounds are 4x that, minimum. Because of this, I make them less detailed than I could or that you might expect so it doesn't look weird against my character art when I shrink portions of it down.
I personally find it much easier to add in detail than to make "removing" details look natural at smaller sizes, but you might have different preferences than I do.
I also make sure to keep all of my elements on separate layers so that I can easily remove or replace them, I can move them to simulate different camera angles more easily, and it's simple to adjust the lighting to imply different times of day.
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Then I can go ahead and copy/paste them into my episodes. I move the background around until it feels like it's properly fitting how I want.
Once I've done that in every panel, I'll go back through the episode and clean up anything that looks weird, and add in solid blacks (for my art style) Here's a quick before and after of what that looks like!
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This makes 90% of my backgrounds take me just a few hours. This is my tactic when I'm working in an environment that an entire scene, or multiple scenes, will take place.
But many panels will inevitably have a location that's used exactly once, and it would waste time and effort to draw a massive background for those. So in 10% of cases, I just draw the single panel background in the episode. I save all of these, just in case I can re-use it later (this happens more often with outdoor locations, but I save them all nonetheless!)
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I generally have to draw about 2 big backgrounds per episode, and 3-5 single-panel backgrounds per episode! At the beginning of an arc/book the number is higher, but as the series is continuing and I'm building up an asset library of indoor and outdoor elements to re-use for the book, the number generally goes down and I save more time.
My series involves time travel and mysteries, so there's a lot of new locations in it and we're constantly moving around. If I were working on a series that was more consistent in this aspect, this process would save me even more time!
Like I said earlier, this also saves me a lot of pain and gives me a lot more options as I'm converting from scroll format to print format!
panels that look like this in scroll format...
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can look like this in print!
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because I drew the background like this, so I didn't need to go through the additional effort to add in the extra detail to expand it outwards at all.
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Anyways, I hope this helps someone! As always if it doesn't help, just go ahead and disregard. This is what I do and what works for me, and I feel like I only ever see time-saving tips for comics that involve 3d models and workflows, which don't work for me at all! I know there's more people like me out there, so this is for you!
Enjoy!
Also obligatory "my webcomic" if you want to see this in action or check it out!
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withleeknow · 1 day
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for the requests — i'll send two songs that i've liked for quite a while and you can choose the member that you see who fits the vibe?
sand by dove cameron
and
make you mine by madison beer
conversations with strangers.
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pairing: seungmin x gn!reader genre/warnings: exes to ??, non-idol au (i wrote this with seungmin in mind as a celebrity/singer or musician of some sort so it's pretty vague and it's not explicitly mentioned what he actually does, so if you wanna imagine him as an idol it still fits the narrative. i can't tell you what to do lol), Angst™️! (i think. i liked this at first but then i was looking at it so much that i became desensitized to it and idk if it's that sad anymore lol); the ending is a little ambiguous maybe?, mentions of drinking, mentions of sex, could've been more edited word count: 2.9k note: this might be one of my favorite things that i've written lately but i am also in my fish freshly dropped on land era so i am fully prepared for this to flop like ass lol bye
as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
navigation / request masterlist / ko-fi
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I saw the end when we began You couldn't love the way I can I tried to bargain with the stars For more than half of your heart But you have more pieces of me than the desert has sand And I have less pieces of you than I can hold in my hand
Sand - Dove Cameron
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"Why did you call me?"
"Why did you come?"
There isn't a good answer to his question, so you choose to ignore it in favor of keeping your eyes on the road, your fingers holding tightly onto the steering wheel. You don't know what to tell him. You yourself aren't even sure why you came to that bar, why Seungmin is sitting in your passenger seat right now just because he was drunk and he wouldn't let anyone take him home but you.
"I asked you first," you say. It takes an effort to keep your voice even, an effort not to look over at him.
"Don't know," he sounds like he couldn't care less, but that's always been Seungmin for you. "Old habits die hard, I guess. You were the only one I used to call."
You round a corner without even having to look at the GPS. The route to his place is still ingrained in your brain even after all this time. On some nights when you feel too stuffy indoors, you would go on a walk by yourself. Directionless for an hour or two, you just want to feel the wind wrap around your body and solid ground beneath your feet.
On these same nights, you would find yourself at Seungmin's door.
It's always unintentional, the way your feet would carry you to his home without your permission.
"Used to," you reiterate. "Past tense. You don't get to call me anymore. I'm not your chauffeur."
You feel his eyes on the side of your face. Then his voice, ever so calm and collected, "You came anyway, didn't you?"
His words irritate you for some reason, even though he means nothing bad. No malice in his voice; he's just simply stating a fact. You did come when he called, and perhaps the person that you're really annoyed with is only yourself, because why did you come?
He should be a stranger to you by now, and yet, you're here.
Maybe you know the answer. Maybe it's not a hard question at all.
You let the both of you wallow in silence for the rest of the drive. When you pull up to Seungmin's building about ten minutes later, you finally turn to cast your gaze upon him with your eyebrow slightly raised, a polite Get out if there ever was one.
Instead of taking the hint like a normal person and going on his merry way, he just stares at you with his big eyes and his hair still styled to perfection even after a night of celebrating and drinking. Seungmin loves to be difficult, this you can't ever forget.
"Well?" you press. "You're home."
He blinks, then swallows thickly. He looks around your car for a few seconds, unsure of himself. If he wasn't intoxicated, you would think he's trying to stall.
"I... I can't go up by myself," he says.
"Are you serious?"
He just nods, something expectant in his gaze.
"You're a grown man."
"Help me up." He doesn't sound all too drunk, but maybe he's just got a way of masking it because Seungmin would never outright ask for help. He's stubborn, and he thinks it makes him look weak. Incapable.
In the end, you give in to his request. You let him lean on you in the elevator on the way up to his floor, the scent of his cologne still overpowering the bourbon he had all night and it makes you just a little nostalgic.
At his door, you hold onto his waist and look away when he punches in the passcode. The door unlocks and this should be it for the two of you, your unexpected reunion should be ending the moment Seungmin crosses over to the other side of the threshold, but he just turns around and looks at you, his body against the frame of the door this time.
"There, you're home safely," you say. "I've done my part. Goodnight."
"Come in."
"Why?"
"I'm tired. Come in." And with that, Seungmin retreats into the apartment, leaving the door open for you to follow without any further explanation at all. For a moment, you stand there by yourself, not really sure of what to do. You hear him shuffling inside, before the sound of his body plopping onto the couch carries over to your ears.
What business do you have here? What business did you have with Seungmin in the first place today?
And yet, you find yourself trailing inside, closing the door behind you until the lock clicks into place. Maybe you're curious to see what the place looks like since the last time that you were here. The two of you never lived together - you weren't foolish enough to agree even though he did ask - but you were over often enough to consider this your second home.
Not much has changed. It's still the same minimalist four walls that you were used to. Same light gray paint, same black couch. Same framed signature of his favorite baseball player and same tiny crack in the decorative bowl on the coffee table. There's a photo on the credenza lying face down seemingly on purpose, but you don't say anything about it.
"What am I doing here?" you ask.
"Why did you come?" he shoots you the question for the second time tonight.
You blink at him. He only stares back.
"Why did you call me?" you repeat. "Why did you really call me?"
Questions thrown out but no answers received, like you're both running in circles, with neither of you knowing why you're even running in the first place.
Seungmin purses his lips before he stands up, the suddenness of the movement leaves him unsteady on his feet, makes him hold onto the couch's armrest for support. "Do you want some water?"
You bite the inside of your cheek. "Okay."
"Give me a second. Have a seat."
You watch as he pads into the kitchen a little wobbly, then returns a few minutes later with two glasses of water. He sits back down on the couch next to you, some distance dividing the two of you. He takes a sip, you do the same.
"Called you because I missed you," he says, casually admitting it like he was merely discussing the weather. The place hasn't changed, but maybe he has.
The last time you spoke to Seungmin was about six months ago, when he dropped off your things two weeks after you broke up. You haven't had any contact since, and that's exactly the way it should be for you and him now. You went your separate ways and that was it. A mutual agreement that hurts, but it was mutual nonetheless. For the past half a year, all he's been to you is a stranger. You know why it had to happen. You agreed to it.
But, just because you haven't talked, doesn't mean that you haven't thought of him. You wish he only crossed your mind in passing, wish your brain only conjured up the image of him whenever you saw something that he would like, or whenever you caught a glimpse of him on the TV or radio. In reality, it's been much more pathetic. You think of him almost every day, despite your best efforts to cleanse yourself of everything that's remotely related to the name Kim Seungmin. His absence carries itself with you all the time, a hollowness that seeps into every crevice of your life.
You know he means it. Seungmin doesn't lie, least of all to you. His honesty twists inside of you like a knife. Salt, meet wound.
You have no words to offer him, no response you can think of that would make sense to say out loud so you don't say anything. The only sound that falls from your lips is his name, like a warning, a plea, a consolation all at once.
But he doesn't seem to mind. Not his sudden vulnerability, not your reluctance to entertain that split second of honesty.
"I answered your question. Now you have to answer mine," he says. "Why did you come?"
"What do you want me to tell you?"
He doesn't respond right away. Instead, he takes a moment like he's mulling it over in his head. "Thought maybe you missed me too," he says eventually, ending the sentence with a bitter chuckle. "Just a little bit."
You tongue your cheek, stall with another sip of water before you place the glass on the table. On a coaster of course, Seungmin hates cup rings on his fancy table.
You lean back to rest on the couch, staring up at his boring ceiling. There are memories of you on this very couch, ones of you lying with your head on his lap as he plays with your hair, the two of you winding down after a long day. Or ones that are far too inappropriate to bring up ever again, of nights where you were both too desperate and impatient to take it to the bedroom. Those gentle reminders are still here somewhere, tucked between the cushions perhaps.
"Sure." You hum, nodding along. "Let's go with that."
Another chuckle, humorless. Though, you think he's pleased enough with that non-answer but you're not sure. He mirrors your position, falling into the couch with a sigh. From your peripheral vision, you think he's scooched closer to you, just by a few centimeters, in the process of settling into the sofa.
"My turn," you say. "Why do you want me here?"
"What is this, 21 questions?"
You shrug simply. "You asked me to come in. I'm just curious."
When Seungmin stays silent for a beat too long, you turn your head to watch him, thinking maybe he's knocked out because of the alcohol in his system. But you find him wide awake, his eyes staring ahead, looking like he's already sober.
His face is unreadable when he says, "Wanted to see something."
"See what?"
"See if something is still there."
It's your turn to remain quiet as you process his words, and it's Seungmin who has to turn to gauge your reaction.
"And? Is anything still there?" you ask.
"I don't know, you tell me. You're the one that stayed."
"Does it matter? If I say there is?"
"Of course it does."
"What would you do about it?"
He goes still once more. You know he doesn't have an answer to your question. What would he do? What could he even do? Patch things up only for them to fall apart again in a couple months? Once upon a time, you were naive enough to think that you could find a way to make it work. You had enough blind faith to think that it would all work out in the end; that if you wanted it enough, maybe the universe would let you have this one thing.
You return your gaze to the ceiling. He's shown you his cards, maybe it's only fair that you show him some of yours too.
An uncertain inhale, then the realization that this is the only time you would be able to have an honest conversation with him about this.
"Wanna hear something funny?" you ask.
"I have a feeling you're gonna tell me anyway."
It's anything but funny, and Seungmin is certain that you're not building up to a punchline. Sure, it's a little tragic that nothing matters, but there's some freedom, some comfort in that too. You can tell him everything that's plagued your mind for the past couple hundred days or so without having to worry about the repercussions. Even though not all is said, everything is already done.
"You know, you were mine before you were anyone else's," you say. You feel his eyes on the side of your face. The silence persists, and you aren't sure if you can take it as a sign to continue, but you do so anyway because at least he's not pumping the brakes on it, right? "I used to be jealous of your life. Toward the end, I mean."
"Jealous of what?"
"I don't know. Just your life, your dream. All of it."
Seungmin blinks. "You were jealous that I got to live my dream?"
"I said I was jealous of your life, not you," you correct him. "Because you always seemed to want everything else more than you wanted me."
"You make it sound like I was the bad guy." He turns a little defensive all of a sudden, an edge in his voice when he says, "That's not true."
You still remember him well enough to know that it is.
And it's not such a terrible thing; it's simply the truth. You can't fault him for having a dream and for having enough courage to see it through, even if it means unintentionally leaving you behind in the process. You could foresee the end even from the beginning. If you wanted to blame someone, you would have to blame yourself too.
You swerve around his metaphorical walls, his make-believe suit of armor. If you'd been nervous around Seungmin tonight, then that anxiety is now chipping away brick by brick the more you internalize the fact that nothing matters anymore.
"Remember your last show before we broke up? You were so happy, I was so proud of you. You belong on stage and I never wanted to take that away from you. But then I noticed the crowd, the thousands of people out there cheering your name and I realized that I would never compare to them. Their praise meant more to you than mine, and it was only a matter of time before you outgrew me to look for bigger and better spotlights.
"I'm not saying you were wrong for any of it. I don't blame you. You were always going to outgrow me. It's sad, but it's okay. I always knew that you'd have to leave me behind at some point. It's on me too; I just fell too hard too fast for someone who could never stay. It's your dream, you can't help it. But that night... that was the nail in the coffin for me, knowing that one day, to you, I would be just one of the faces in a crowd that you can't even tell apart."
It doesn't hurt as much as you thought it would. In fact, it's even a little cathartic to pour out the words that have been sitting heavy on your chest. Although it's not until a single tear spills over that you realize your eyes have welled up somewhere along the way. You quickly wipe it away with your thumb, then you feel his hand reach for yours after a few beats.
Seungmin calls your name, and you can hear the regret in his voice. When you look at him, his eyes have softened, no longer on the defense now that you've beat him to the offense. "I'm not drunk enough to forget about this in the morning, you know," he says.
"Does it matter? What are you going to do about it in the morning?" you ask. "We're already broken up. It's not like we can go anywhere from here. But at least now you know what it was like for me."
It seems to be a common theme tonight - stretches of silence in between admissions of truth so that one of you can gauge the other's reaction, trying to assess what path would be worth it to take at this crossroad you find yourselves unable to move on from.
Then he's tugging on your hand, pulling you to him until you're in each other's orbit again. Close enough for him to wrap his arm around you. Close enough that you're weak, not that you were ever that strong to begin with. It doesn't really come as a surprise that you let him.
"I..." Seungmin starts, full of uncertainty as he tries to string together a sentence. "We could go back."
This isn't a surprise either, that you're considering his words.
"What happens when it ends again?"
You can practically taste the residual bourbon on his breath when he leans into you, his lips brushing your cheek just slightly. "Then it ends again," he says, a little pained, all too selfish. "But it'll be worth it. It's worth it to me."
"What if it's not what I want? What if it's not worth it to me?"
He pulls back, putting some distance between your faces so he could see you better, the deep brown of his eyes searching for something that you're both aware of.
"You came tonight," he murmurs, as if that in and of itself is a sufficient enough explanation. "You stayed."
Not all is said, but everything is already done.
You had chance after chance after chance to leave, to shut this down - whatever this is - but you didn't, not even once. You're still a willing participant even though you've lived through this ending before. You know he loved you, know he loves you even if the way he goes about it is selfish.
Because you do know the answer to his questions. It's clear as day; anyone can see it from a mile away.
When your world eventually comes crashing down again some time from now, you won't blame Seungmin. You won't blame yourself either, despite having option to walk away from all of this right now.
Because maybe some pains are worth enduring twice, aren't they?
Why did you come? Why did you stay?
Is anything still there?
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all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 08.06.2024]
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inkdrinkerworld · 6 hours
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autistic!reader getting overwhelmed/overstimulated at a party w dealer!remus’ friends so remus ditches the party to comfort them (i love your writing sm btw❤️)
You’re not sure what exactly was the tipping point that sent you from mild discomfort to overt discomfort and agitation.
You’re at a party with Remus, sitting in the living room with your phone in your hand as you scrolled through your photos and a couple random apps to pass the time it took Remus to sell to all his friends here.
Usually, you’re good about bringing your ear plugs, and they’d work but even though you don’t have them tonight, you know they’d have been useless.
You can smell an acrid mixture of beer, white rum and weed. You can feel the bass shake you down to your bones and whoever’s sofa this is, it’s the lumpiest thing you’ve ever sat on and the moment you became aware of the lumps there was no use in trying to forget it.
You want to go home but you don’t want to ruin Remus’ night. As inconspicuous as you can, you send him a text.
Going outside to get some air, the smell of alcohol is too much.
Remus texts back, Don’t go out by yourself, I’ll meet you at the door in five minutes.
Maybe you should’ve been clearer, you’re not sure if you can hold out for five minutes.
“You look like someone just told you they imprisoned another orca.” Sirius creeps up on you, making you jump where you’re sitting.
“Sorry, the smell in here is horrid.” Sirius laughs, always having been a fan for your inability to lie. You don’t need to be sheepish around him, come to think of it, none of Remus’ friends mind some of your less than sociable traits.
“Did you phone, Moony? You know he’ll take you home if you aren’t having a good time.”
You shrug, “What if he’s having a good time?”
Sirius doesn’t want to be the one to tell you, because he’s sure you’re somewhat aware already; but Remus could never be having a good time if you weren’t. It’s like your emotions are linked and if you’re not enjoying yourself, Remus will simply rearrange the Earth, till you were.
Sirius is saved from having to give you the rundown, when Remus appears, sponging a kiss to your forehead.
For someone who’s been selling weed and smoking it for as long as he has been, Remus never really smells like that burnt, sweet smell his weed has. He smells like citrus fruit and clove. Spicy and tart.
It grounds you, gives you something else to focus on. Something that’s familiar, fresh and grounding. It settles the itch in your veins and allows you to relax a little.
“Ready to go?” When you look at him, Remus has your bag on his shoulder and your jacket in his hands.
“Home?” You ask, Sirius not even bothering to hide his smile as Remus nods.
“Yeah, figured it was getting a little much. We’ve been here longer than I thought we’d be too.”
It’s just like your boyfriend, to make it so that what you want, to go home, doesn’t seem like it’s being forced on him. In truth, Remus would like to leave too, and he wasn’t lying. He’d only planned for you both to be here an hour or two.
“Are you sure?”
Sirius pats your knee as he leaves, knowing you’re both going to be headed home.
“Positive, dovey. C’mon,” Remus leads you out of the house, watching your shoulders drop as soon as the crisp, cool air of a coming spring fills your lungs. “Put on the sweater, baby. Don’t want you to catch a cold.”
You smile a little to yourself as Remus helps you into the sweater. “Thanks Remmy.”
You’re thanking him for more than just the sweater, but Remus rolls his eyes. He tips your chin up, nose bumping your own before he kisses you.
“Let’s go precious girl, we might be able to stop at that pizza place you like if we hurry.”
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brucewaynehater101 · 22 hours
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Space Emperor Tim decides to take a break from Earth. He fills out the paperwork that he developed as Robin for official on break status. He fills out the paperwork for vacation from WE. He finishes his active cases and very valiantly restrains himself from taking up new ones. His version of vacation reading is a file cabinet of cold cases so he puts those together for his personal entertainment for his vacation. He sublets his civilian apartment. He makes rigged bets with Jason, Dick, and Stephanie to get them to watch over his part of Gotham while he's gone.
Then he, Kon, Cassie, and Bart jump in the spaceship and head for the empire. They have new costumes to show off and laugh at one another about. They are going to decompress and Cassie will be searching the empire for a therapist for each of them. While she understands Tim's reluctance, Gothamite, she would like the team birb to at least get some healthier coping mechanisms figured out. She would honestly like all of them to have some better coping mechanisms.
The thing is though that Tim never actually, verbally told anyone he was going anywhere, much less leaving earth. The only one who did actively let anyone on earth know was Cassie, she told her mom and she let Greta, Anita, and Cissie know. All four have been promised souvenirs. Mrs. Sandsmark let Diana know that Cassie would be on vacation and unavailable for hero things for a bit. Kon is distant from the Kents, if they even know he exists given Clark's hot and cold attitude towards him, but to be polite Kon left a letter for Ma and Pa that he was going on vacation with his team. Bart's guardian situation is also very up in the air so he didn't bother to tell anyone. All the Bats are in the dark. Only Young Justice even knows that Bart has a spaceship. And turns out that Tim is the only one who uses his official on a break paperwork. And Bruce never read any of his (very edited) reports from his time with Young Justice.
The first clue that the Bats get that Tim isn't actually there in Gotham is from a reporter who asks Brucie how Tim is doing on his vacation?
Meanwhile Tim and his life partners are touring the empire and they've added another planet. And there's an imperial design contest for the best palace for the empire because the empire is hoping that if their baby has his own home here in the empire instead of living out of his ship or using the residences of their former leaders, he might stay for longer periods of time or be there physically more often. Tim is trying to discourage the palace thing as a waste of resources and get people to design gardens instead. Bart may or may not be conspiring with scientists to create a Death Star without the planet destroying capabilities as his own entry to the imperial palace contest. Kon is making sure Tim doesn't notice Bart's plans by dragging Tim through markets and looking for the best examples of ugly-cute baby emperor and consorts merchandise. So far the winner is a set of dishes and each piece has what is presumably their very stylized faces on them. Cassie is taking her turn of being the imperial bodyguard and making sure none of their fans get too overzealous. She is absolutely getting the dishes for the people back home.
Fuck. I love this so much.
Also, referring to YJ as Tim's life partners??? Yes. Absolutely. Idc if people ship them or just see them as a queerplatonic poly relationship. They are for sure life partners. That's the most adequate description for the four of them. Even if some of them choose to date some of the others, if they all date each other, or none date each other, they have a very special bond. No matter the distance or time apart, they are life partners. Gods, I'm vibing with that description so much.
Anyways, Tim being the only one to fill out his vacation/time off paperwork makes so much sense. I also hc that half of the reason he "hides" so much is just that he forgets he has to inform people of shit. He's so used to not telling people what's going on with him that he legitimately gets surprised when they get mad or worried at him because of it. He also goes out of his way to keep tabs on his loved ones and doesn't quite understand why he would need to inform them since they don't need to tell him about their plans. For this hc, I think that YJ had some bumps with this tendency of Tim until they worked out that they just need to ask him. They have a gc where they will ask Tim questions to keep everyone up to date.
Also, hell yeah to the merch and plates ideas. I wonder how YJ is going to explain where they got plates of the core four's faces (since some folks, perhaps Dick, will ask where to get more).
If Tim did request for gardens, I'd love to see what different ones look like. Since they are alien planets, they probably have different ecological systems. They would also have separate ideas on what's considered "beautiful" or worth keeping in a garden-like exhibit.
Thank you for also going in-depth on Kon, Bart, and Cassie's backgrounds. It was cool seeing how they communicated with their respective social groups
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dira333 · 1 day
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Care too much - Tsukishima x Reader
If you ever dare to ask me about the lore behind this, better be prepared.
Tagging: @lees-chaotic-brain @fuzztacular @melfromwonderland @qardasngan @xangel-8 @lemurzsquad
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“Toss to me Senpai?” Hinata’s voice cuts through the usual after-training chatter like a hot knife through butter. Tsukishima wishes for his headphones, but those are out of reach.
“Your enthusiasm is admirable, Hinata-” Ennoshita starts, clearly trying to help.
“I’d love to,” you say, “but we have to keep the others in mind. Surely everyone else wants to go home.”
Tsukishima does. They are training more than hard enough and he’s still got homework to get to, not to mention the math exam he needs to prepare for. He only realizes that he’s still looking in your direction when you turn your head and catch his eye, sending him one of those calm smiles he’s learned to expect from you.
He turns away, but not fast enough. Yamaguchi sends him a questioning look.
At least his best friend is smart enough not to ask about it when others are present.
.
“How are you keeping up?” You ask, falling into step alongside him. Yamaguchi tenses to his right, but no one else seems to think it weird that you’re talking to them.
You’re friendly to everyone, but Hinata quickly claimed your attention. He was the one who found out you played Volleyball before you moved and even though he lacked the brain, he did not miss the fact that you’re talented.
Ennoshita and the more sensible second-years are never far from you and are most likely the reason you joined their team as assistant Coach instead of the girls.
“Tsukishima?” Your voice cuts through his musings. He flinches and turns, surprised to hear Yamaguchi muffle a snort behind his hand.
“Sorry, I was lost in thought.”
“I’ve noticed. Is the training regimen too much?”
“No,” he sounds a little too defensive, he thinks, but he doesn’t want you to think he’s lacking. “No, it’s just… I was thinking about the upcoming math exam.”
You nod. “I understand. How are you doing in that subject?”
It’s easy to talk to you, Tsukishima realizes. He might not like spending so much time with hotheads like Hinata and Kageyama, but Volleyball Club isn’t all that bad if it means spending time with sensible people like you. And the others, he immediately follows up, as if to defend his thoughts to himself. You’re not the only sensible person on the team.
-
“Here,” you hand him a bottle, “drink this.”
“What is it?” Tsukishima asks, a little annoyed. He doesn’t like admitting it, but he’s thankful for all the tips he’s gotten from Kuroo, even though he still hasn’t figured out why he does it. Is he trying to fool him, teach him something he can exploit later? Whatever the reason, he’s started butting into things that don’t concern him. And if you’re now digging into his small appetite as well, he’s going to-
“It helps,” you explain calmly, “my Dad showed me. I don’t have that much of an appetite but I need, I mean, needed the calories. It’s a little trick. Try it, see if you like it.”
It tastes like strawberries and cream, has the consistency of a milkshake.
“Thanks,” he mutters, a little lost in his feelings.
Your hand is warm on his shoulder, the grip strong. It sends a strange flutter through his body that he likes as much as he despises it.
.
“Do you have a minute?” You ask, meeting him in the darkness. Behind him the warm light of a now deserted Gym, behind you the dimly lit hallways that lead to the bathrooms.
“Sure,” Tsukishima agrees because it’s you. His feet follow your direction as you lead him down the path, away from the bathrooms and the Gyms. You don’t speak for a while and even though he’s tired and sweaty, he can’t argue about the calmness of the moment.
That is, until you turn at the sound of an animal and your hand brushes his, knuckles over knuckles, skin slick with sweat. 
It’s only for a second, maybe even less, but he can feel himself moving, grasping for your hand as if to hold it. And isn’t that ridiculous?
“You wanted to talk about something?” Tsukishima says, heart in his throat as he balls his hands to fists, fighting against something in him he cannot begin to explain, to understand.
“Yes.” You nod, look at the ground first, then up at him. “I wanted to ask what you think of yourself.”
His tongue feels too large for his mouth. Do you know what he’s been thinking about lately?
“I know Yamaguchi already talked to you, he told me bits and pieces of it. I wanted to talk to you too, but I…” you laugh abruptly, “well, it seems he was faster. Tsukishima, do you think you’re less than… than the others?”
“Never,” his mouth says when his heart screams Of course!
You smile in a way that tells him that you’ve already seen through him.
“This is a training camp,” you tell him and he can’t help but admire how you brush against the topic with such a gentle hand, “I won’t take too much of your attention. I’m gonna give you my number, okay, and we can talk about this some more when we’re home and have a bit of free time to our hands.”
He laughs. The idea of free time has long turned unfamiliar. 
“Poor Tsukishima,” you smile with a smile that has his heart bubbling, “it seems I’m going to have to help you.”
-
“Tsukishima-Senpai?” One of the new first-years asks and it’s so weird, isn’t it, to be in the middle like that. Still looking up to the Third-Years, but well aware of the example you’re supposed to be giving.
“Yes?”
“I was told- uh, I was told to take this form to the Coach, but I can’t find them anywhere and I don’t know- uh, Hinata-Senpai said I should ask you or, or the Captain, but I’m-”
“Look,” he grabs the boy’s shoulder and turns him a little until he can see you, sitting next to Takeda-Sensei, smiling a little at Nishinoya’s and Tanaka’s antics, “You can go and ask our assistant Coach.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m one hundred percent positive that she’s not going to bite off your head if you ask her something. I might, however.”
Yamaguchi sidles up to him the moment the younger boy runs off, grinning in a way that tells Tsukishima he heard every word.
“Hush,” he tells his best friend, “you heard nothing.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell on you. It’s weird to have our Third-Years missing, isn’t it? I miss Suga’s gentle hand.”
Tsukishima sighs. Yes. Ennoshita’s a good Captain, but he’s still a little unsure of himself. His eyes find you without meaning too, catch the smile you share with the shy First-Year.
“We still have a gentle hand. If we do our best we might even be able to show it ourselves next year.”
Yamaguchi laughs, clearly surprised. But he’s still his best friend, dropping the topic when it becomes clear he doesn’t want to talk about it anymore.
.
“Is that seat taken?” You ask, voice barely audible. He takes his backpack off the chair and watches you slide in, the mountain of books in your arms a clear sign of the upcoming exams.
Tsukishima doesn’t want you to leave. Not this school, not this team. Not- no, he’s not going to go there.
You catch him looking, send him the calm smile he’s grown fond of, maybe even addicted.
There’s the sound of paper ripping and a little folded up note lands in his lap. 
His hands shake a little when he opens it up, your handwriting is neat, the ink not yet dried, smudging as he smoothes the paper.
Can we go for a drink later? I need to tell you something.
His heart thumbs uncomfortably in his throat when he looks up, your smile is bittersweet.
Whatever his heart is wishing for, his head already knows that it won’t be the topic you’ve chosen today.
And he’s right.
You’re not confessing to him, nor are you addressing his own, deep seated, carefully hidden feelings for you. 
The truth is worse and better at the same time.
You’re leaving, right after graduation.
And though you promise to keep in contact, a part of him sighs in relief.
Maybe, through distance, his heart will let go of this ridiculous idea.
After all, there are not many people he admires in this world, but he’s not dumb enough to think he could be a match for one of them.
-
His throat is dry, his nose clogged and he can barely see but his blaring phone does not care about that at all.
It takes him a moment to find it amongst the used tissues, one more to figure out how to pick up the call.
“I’m not sick,” he grunts into the little device, expecting yet another one of Yamaguchi’s worried Check-Ins.
“You do sound like it though,” your voice answers and the shiver it sends all over his body is most definitely not from the fever he’s been fighting.
“W-well, I’m not,” he stutters, looking for his glasses. He feels vulnerable without them, even more so with you on the phone.
How long has it been that he’s heard your voice?
“Well, if you’re not sick, how come that Yamaguchi asked me to check in on you?”
“He did? He’s worried for nothing, that’s all.”
“Mhm,” the little sound you make in the back of your throat does weird things to his stomach, “So you did not not pick up the phone yesterday after he brought you home with a high fever the day before that?”
“What are you, our mother?” He asks, words slipping from his raw throat. He regrets them the moment he hears them, even more when your answer is silence.
“Do you see me as a mother figure?” You ask and there’s a new feeling in his stomach, one that’s asking him to find the nearest bathroom before he’s starting to heave.
“No, I-” Tsukishima doesn’t know how to explain himself, or what to say without giving himself away. So he says nothing and neither do you.
Eventually though, he has to make a sound, mainly because he can’t keep from coughing for more than a few minutes.
“Tsukishima,” you ask, voice grown up and small at the same time, “tell me, how are you? We haven’t spoken in a while.”
If your conversation only grazes the surface of what he wants to talk about it’s his fault and his fault alone.
.
“I really like you,” the girl tells him, a little box of chocolates in her hands. “Will you be my boyfriend?”
She’s brave, to ask like this. Just this morning another girl from his class confessed to him. He’s forgotten her name on purpose but he’s not blind to how well-liked she was among her peers. 
This girl, however, isn’t. She’s too tall for a girl, some say, too shy to be class president, too lanky to be good in sports. But she’s got a calm smile that reminds him of you and maybe that’s the reason he accepts, with a guilty heart and a knot in his stomach.
Maybe all he needs is someone else to fall in love with.
He knows it’s stupid, but he’s never been smart when it came to his heart.
-
“It’s a clean break.”
“It will heal fast, no lasting damages.”
“At least now you’ll have time to focus on your schoolwork. College is no joke.”
“Do you need my help, Tsukki? I can take a few days off work until you’re settled.”
He doesn’t want help. He might need it, but he doesn’t want it.
He doesn’t want company either, because none of them know what to do with him. 
He’s miserable company on his best days but breaking his finger will leave even someone as cheerful as Hinata in a slump.
But, he thinks bitterly, things like that don’t happen to Hinata. Or Kageyama. 
No, those things happen to him, right when he’s finally got a starter position in his College team. Right when he feels almost comfortable in his life.
So it’s not unreasonable for him not to want to talk to people.
If only the people would realize that and leave him alone.
.
First, it was the doorbell. Then came the knocking. Now someone’s calling his name.
“I’m coming!” Tsukishima’s not expecting anyone but if he had to guess, he’d say his brother made his way over. Akiteru has yet to learn when to keep away.
He fumbles with the keys, his cast as usual in the way.
The door opens wide and he stills, too aware of you to be aware of himself.
You look gorgeous. Your hair’s a mess, your eyes red and overshadowed by exhaustion, your shirt looks like you slept in it. His hand reaches out, faster than his brain can keep up, tapping your shoulder to make sure you’re real.
“Yes, it’s me,” you tell him, half a grin on your face, “let me in?”
Tsukishima steps aside, only now realizing he’s wearing boxer shorts and socks and nothing more. Heat crawls up his throat and he thunders down the hallway and into his bedroom to get dressed the best he can. 
“What are you doing here?” He asks, anger lacing his voice to hide his shame. “Last time we talked you were-”
“Halfway back to Japan,” you interrupt him from the doorway. “It’s not official yet, but I’m starting as Assistant Coach for the Sendai Frogs next month. It’s just a Division 2 team, but it’s a start.”
He stills, not just because his arm is stuck in his shirt. 
“You’re moving back to Japan?”
“Well, I was planning to,” you joke, “kinda hard to Coach a Japanese Team when you’re living in Argentina. Can I help you with that?”
“I’m fine,” he argues.
“That you are.” There’s a teasing lilt to your words that has his ears burning. 
He’s twenty years old, not fifteen.
“When did you arrive?” He’s trying his best but his arm is stuck. You’re halfway through the room before he can speak up, hands warm as you help him out of his misery.
“Half an hour ago.” 
You’re too close, but too far away. This is not- Can he still blame it on the painkillers if he took the last one this morning? He opens his mouth to ask you when he realizes that you’re the last person he should ask about this. But-
“Tsukishima?” You ask, voice soft, smile calm like he’s grown to love. “You’re in your head again.”
“Yeah, sure,” he nods, “How did you know?”
“You mumble your thoughts when you’re like that,” you point out and he might have caught it, the meaning those words carry, if your hand hadn’t reached up to cradle his cheek.
His eyes close for a brief second. In that darkness, there’s just your touch, the warmth of your hand.
His eyes flicker open again. You’re closer now and though he shouldn’t his eyes flicker to your lips, dry and chapped from a long flight.
“Do you love me, Tsukishima?” You ask. He leans in to kiss you. He’ll just blame it on the painkillers later.
.
“You had a crush on me,” Tsukishima points out, half dumbfounded, half giddy about the revelation.
“We just became a couple,” you point out, drawing your finger through the air to literally point at the way you’re sitting, your legs over his, ankles crossed, your face smushed against his shoulder. Your jetlag and his exhaustion do not mix well. Or maybe they mix perfectly, who knows at this point?
“Still,” he lets the truth linger on his tongue. It tastes delicious, like victory.
“But I think you were crushing on me first.”
“Well, we could fight about that,” he says with the air of someone who’s already won. 
You snicker. “I am sure we will. But, Kei-” You stop when he shivers, the sound of his first name on your tongue still a little too indecent for this early hour. “I wanna talk some more about this. I had this big speech planned and-”
He leans in, presses his lips against yours. Once, twice, some more because he can, because he’s allowed to, one more just because.
“I think we should sleep first, talk later,” he can feel you smile, lips against lips, nose bumping his, “we’ve got all the time to talk about it in the morning.”
“Look at you, trying to be reasonable,” you coo, “You’ve grown so fast.”
-
“I still can’t believe it,” Hinata says, clearly a little miffed that his favorite Senpai picked Tsukishima over him. “He’s so mean all the time. Are you being held captive?”
You laugh easily. “No, but better make sure Kei’s here on his own free will. He might be the one being blackmailed.”
“Well, I can see it,” Sugawara declares friendly, “Tsukishima and you always got along. Two pees in a pod, really.” He winks.
“Doesn’t matter anyway,” Tsukishima declares with the air of someone who could care less. Your hand squeezes his and he knows he’s been found out. You know he cares. A little too much most of the time.
Buy me a Coffee?
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oliviablancmom · 2 days
Text
"Pedriiii - Bonus Chapter''
N/A: And as promised, here is the bonus chapter. Have a look at how things are going for Pedri, Isa, and Axel. I hope you enjoy it.
Ps: I just realized now that this image might contain spoilers. lol
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One Month Later
Axel was a very active and talkative child, especially when he felt comfortable around someone. It was like that with Pedri, with his friends, and also with the player’s family. Seeing him now, sitting in complete silence, was strange, mainly because he was about to do something he had always wanted, ever since he had understood it, and had tirelessly asked Isa to be able to go onto the field with Pedri. When the request came directly from his favorite player, Axel was over the moon. Isa didn’t even know how to calm him down, he was so excited about the invitation. Hours and days were talking about it excitedly, and now that the day had finally arrived, all that energy had passed, when it should have been the opposite.
“Well, at least we know that when he becomes a player he will be very focused,” Gavi said beside Isa while looking at the little boy.
“I love how you all already assume he will be a player,” Isa said reluctantly. Fernando looked at her and laughed.
“I love how you haven’t accepted that he will be a player yet,” Fer said, standing up and patting Isa on the shoulder. “You need to accept the facts, it will be less painful when it happens,” he said humorously. Isa rolled her eyes at him. She knew that the chances of Axel wanting to pursue a football career were high; he had inherited his grandfather’s passion for the sport. Now, with the presence of the club’s players in his life, Isa was sure that this would influence him even more.
“Isa, it’s time,” one of the club staff entered the room where they were. Isa nodded and walked to where Axel was sitting.
“Hey, baby, you have to go now,” Isa crouched next to her son. His eyes were shining, and Isa was sure of how nervous he was. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” Isa said understandingly. Axel made a face.
“I want to go, but do you think Pedri wants me there?” Axel asked insecurely. He always got like this after spending a few hours with his father, but Isa understood her son’s insecurities; after all, she had her own when it came to the player.
“Are you kidding? Pedri has been counting the days for this moment, buddy,” Fer said, crouching next to Isa in front of Axel. The youngest looked at him, still seeming uncertain.
“Isa, he has to go with the other kids,” the staff member repeated. Axel looked at Isa and then at Gavi.
“Gavi, will you go with me?” Axel asked shyly. Gavi approached and picked him up.
“Of course, buddy, if it makes you feel better,” Gavi said, hugging him. “Deep down, deep down, I know I’m your favorite,” Gavi teased. Axel raised his eyebrows, looking offended, which made Fernando laugh.
“You know you not,” Axel said, hitting Gavi’s shoulder. The two left the room talking about something.
“Let’s go to the stands,” Fer pulled Isabella outside, and the woman could feel her nervousness taking over. When she arrived, she saw her father already excited, singing songs of the crowd. Pedri’s parents greeted her with a warm hug.
“You’re freezing, dear,” Rosy, Pedri's mom said, holding Isa’s hand. “Oh, I understand, I always get like this when Pedri goes onto the field,” the woman hugged Isabella in a comforting way.
Isa still found it strange the relationship she was having with the player’s family. They were so welcoming since the game against PSG. They sent messages asking Axel if she was okay. They gathered at Isa’s father’s house just to chat, and they even took Axel for outings. Isa found it strange because she had never had that experience before. Her ex-mother-in-law made sure to criticize her all the time, especially the way she raised Axel. And with her current mother-in-law, everything was different, well, Isa didn’t know if she could call her that, since she and Pedri were not officially in a relationship. This left her even more confused.
“They’re coming in,” Rosy said excitedly, holding Isa’s hand. Isa’s father stood up as if a goal had been scored, holding Fer by the shoulders and shaking him excitedly. Isa laughed at the scene and turned her attention to the field. Pedri was the last to enter, and unlike the other players who were holding hands with their respective kids, Pedri was carrying Axel in his arms.
“He got shy,” Fer concluded. The pre-game processes were finished, and Isa saw when Pedri walked to the edge of the field and handed Axel to Gavi, who was waiting there.
“Aw, a good older son,” Fer said, turning with a mocking smile to Isabella, who rolled her eyes. “I’m going to get something for Axel to eat. Do you want anything, sis?” Isa frowned and just shook her head. Fer looked confused at her and then left.
After a few minutes, Gavi arrived with Axel, who was talking again. His cheeks were flushed, and his eyes were sparkling with excitement.
“Mom, did you see me out there?” he asked excitedly while jumping into his mother’s lap. “It was so cool.”
“You did very well, Axel,” Rosy said, kissing the boy’s hand. “Did you like it?”
“Yeeeees, it was cool to see everyone from the field,” he said excitedly.
“Soon it will be you entering the field with a child,” Pedri’s father said, picking Axel up from Isa’s lap and starting a conversation with the little boy.
“You’re acting strange,” Gavi said beside her, watching her. Isabella looked at him stunned.
“You freeze every time Pedri’s family shows affection for Axel,” Gavi concluded. Isa was sometimes surprised by how observant Gavi was and how well he read her.
“Don’t you find it strange? They hardly know him and treat him like this...” Isa said quietly, hoping the noise of the stadium was enough for the player’s family not to hear her.
“Wow, I know Axel’s father’s family was horrible to you, but to the point of you finding it strange for your son to be well treated?” Gavi asked curiously.
“You have no idea,” Isa muttered, watching Axel get excited with Fer approaching with a bag of popcorn.
“Well, you’re Pedri’s girlfriend now, so it’s natural for them to treat you well,” Gavi concluded.
“I’m not Pedri’s girlfriend,” Isa said in a louder tone, attracting Fer’s attention, who looked confused at her again but soon returned his attention to Axel, who was telling him something.
“What are you talking about?” Gavi asked confused. “Fernando would have already said on Instagram that you weren’t if you weren’t,” he said humorously, making Isa laugh. “And I don’t think his family would interact so much with you and Axel if you weren’t. Believe me, he tells everything to his parents and takes their opinion very seriously.”
“I know, but we haven’t talked about it...” Isa said, watching Pedri run across the field.
“Oh my God, my brother is so dumb,” Fer said, turning again to face Isa. Axel looked at Fernando with a frown.
“Don’t talk about Pedri like that, Fer” Axel reprimanded him, and Fer was shocked.
“You two are very united, I’m at a disadvantage here. How am I going to speak ill of him now?” Fer asked indignantly. “I brought you popcorn, you have to let me talk bad about him a little.”
“Stop tormenting the boy,” Pedri’s father picked Axel up from his son’s lap. Fer looked offended, making Isa laugh.
Barcelona won the match. For the first time, the team seemed to have found a rhythm, and that was reassuring. Isa was in her car in the stadium’s parking lot. There were only a few minutes left until the match ended. Axel was sleeping peacefully in the back seat and would probably wake up only the next day. Early in the second half, he started complaining about a headache. Isa concluded that it was the adrenaline of entering the field finally passing and giving way to exhaustion, which Isa also shared. The woman had advanced all her work so she could have a day off and accompany Axel’s special day. And also, her mind couldn’t stop thinking about her relationship with Pedri. Since the game against PSG, Pedri’s presence had become constant, but at no time did they talk about what their relationship status was. Isa was looking at social media; she and Axel were already on the player’s fan pages, which also speculated about the nature of their relationship. Isa put her phone back in her pocket and leaned her head on the seat, closing her eyes. After a few minutes, the sound of someone knocking on the window woke her up, and she looked outside, seeing the player smiling at her. She unlocked the car, expecting him to get into the passenger seat, but instead, he opened the driver’s door.
“I’ll drive,” he said firmly. Isa didn’t argue, just jumped into the passenger seat. Pedri got in, looked at Axel in the back seat, and then at Isa. He leaned in to buckle the seatbelt for her, and she looked at him curiously. Isa wanted to ask him, but she was too shy to do so, and she was also a little dazed; Isa loved seeing Pedri play, but she also loved how he looked after a match, his messy hair, the confident look, the flushed cheeks. Pedri narrowed his eyes at her, a smile at the corners of his lips.
“What?” he asked, but Isabella just shook her head, forcing herself to return to reality. “What were you thinking about?” Isa felt her cheeks warm.
“Nothing... ” she shrugged
Pedri smiled and leaned in to kiss her, and then he drove out of the stadium toward her apartment.
Pedri could see that something was bothering her. The entire silent drive to the apartment showed that. His brother and Gavi calling him dumb and stupid were also hints. Pedri was sitting in Isa’s apartment living room while she put Axel to bed. It didn’t take long for her to return, and she stopped when she saw him sitting on the couch.
“You’re still here?” Isa asked cautiously, and Pedri found the woman’s cold reaction strange. He raised an eyebrow at her.
“What’s wrong, Isabella?” Pedri asked, watching the woman open her mouth several times to say something, but nothing came out. She seemed frustrated.
“Nothing,” she huffed and walked to the kitchen. Pedri followed her, stopping behind her with his arms on either side of her body, so she ended up trapped between the sink and him. Pedri could spend days looking at her, and he would never get tired. He was obsessed with her; it was all about her, the perfectly sculpted face, the sweet and welcoming smile, the way she raised Axel. The big brown eyes were looking at a point behind Pedri, and now he was sure that something was wrong because normally, when they were this close, her eyes were on his face, mapping it.
“Isabella...” Pedri held her face, forcing her to look at him. “What happened?”
“What are we?” Pedri was confused for a moment, thinking he had already been clear about his feelings for her.
“Is that why you’re in a bad mood?” Pedri asked humorously. Isa rolled her eyes, pushing him away and going to sit on the couch. Pedri followed her, still laughing at her mood. Pedri always enjoyed it when Isa showed her feelings. “I thought it was clear what we had,” Pedri sat next to her, who continued to ignore him. This time, it was Pedri who rolled his eyes. He moved a little closer and extended his hand to her face, pulling her so she would look at him. Isa’s big eyes were shining, and only now did he realize how serious she was.
“You’re married, Isabella,” Pedro said humorously, and Isa opened her mouth, surprised by his words. Pedri let out a little laugh. “We’re together, but to make things official, I don’t want that point between us.”
“Well, that never stopped you before,” this time it was Isa who said mockingly and humorously, and Pedri rolled his eyes, offended, moving away from her. Isa let out a giggle and sat on the player’s lap, holding his face and leaving kisses all over his face.
“I thought you were too smart for this,” Pedri said, holding Isa’s waist, who looked at him, not understanding. “Another thing you told me when we met at the nightclub,” Pedri kissed her neck. “That you were too smart to fall for my flirting.” Isa laughed, and Pedri felt his heart skip a beat; he loved her laugh, and he made wishes in his head so he could hear that laugh for many, many years.
******************************************
Three months later
"Pedriiii," Axel came running down the hallway looking for the player, holding his tiny soccer cleats in his hands. "Can you help me put them on?" Pedri laughed at the boy's eagerness. Today was a big day; Axel was going to play his first soccer game with his football class. At his age, everything was playful and introductory, without the pressure of professionalism, but still, it was an experience Axel was very excited and focused on. Pedri always talked to and supported the boy, encouraging him to enjoy the moment and not take it too seriously. Of course, at the end of the day, all the talk went out the window when Gavi showed up saying, "They are all our enemies; we can’t feel sorry for anyone."
"Axel, baby. Your father won’t be able to attend the game; he wasn’t given time off from work, but he wished you good luck." Isa appeared in the room. Pedri felt a strange sensation at the mention of the man and repressed the urge to roll his eyes at the excuse. It was his son’s first game, and he couldn’t make an effort. Axel shrugged at the information, not seeming affected, and Pedri mentally thanked, as he would hate anyone who spoiled Axel’s joy that day. "Go get your bag from your room, or we’ll be late." Axel ran to his room, and Isa took the opportunity to approach Pedri, hugging him. Pedri inhaled the woman’s perfume; he loved the intoxicating feeling it caused in his senses.
“Thank you,” she whispered in the player’s ear, causing a shiver. Axel returned to the room, running to Pedri's lap, making Isa roll her eyes at the boy’s preference.
“Pedri, don’t forget to control pop's so the coach doesn’t kick him out again.” Isa stopped in her tracks, staring at the two with wide eyes. Pedri felt his body go cold and looked at Axel, who seemed to realize what he had just said.
“What?” she asked, shocked by the information.
“He’s joking, love.” Isa looked suspicious while Axel hid his face in the player’s neck with small giggles.
Pedri had left Axel in the locker room with the other children. His appearance caused a bit of a stir among them, almost getting him kicked out by the coach too, but he managed to calm them down with the promise that he would take photos with all of them after the match. This resulted in Axel having a huge pout on his face while ignoring Pedri’s goodbye... the jealousy... like mother, like son.
Pedri headed to the stands where his family was. His mother was chatting animatedly with Isa’s stepmother, while his father was next to Isa’s father, who seemed to be too calm to what he usually was. When he noticed the player approaching, they exchanged a look of recognition.
“I thought we had a secret, my dear.” Pedri let out a little laugh while greeting his father-in-law.
“Complain to your grandson.” Pedri shrugged.
“She grounded me, but she’s there with the one responsible for the mess.” Isa’s father said, nodding towards where his daughter was. Pedri looked towards the edge of the field, where Isa was talking with Fer and Gavi, the latter hugging the woman who was laughing at something Pedri’s brother was saying.
“Don't worry, I'll make her see who he truly is,” Pedri said, laughing.
“Pedri, leave him alone, poor thing.” Pedri’s mother said.
“Poor thing because you don’t know the thing.” Pedri headed towards the three, and as soon as Isa noticed him approaching, she gave Pedri a cynical look.
“You have your child; I have mine.” She said, referring to Gavi, who gave a smug laugh.
“Now I know where Axel gets his jealous side from,” Pedri said humorously.
“Oh brother, you’re not far behind. You almost had a meltdown at that event because Bellingham greeted Isa and played with Axel.” Fer said, laughing at his brother, who scowled. Gavi burst into laughter, remembering the scene. Pedri looked at him and, seeing that he was about to say something more, so he intervened.
“You keep quiet, Gavira, or I'll tell her your secret...” Isa stopped hugging Gavi and looked at him attentively.
“You’re the only one who believes in his saintly face, Isa,” Fer said beside him, and soon he and Gavi started teasing each other. Isabella laughed at the scene and went to Pedri’s side, hugging him. The two shared a silent exchange of affection until Axel’s game began, and Isa started showing her motherly side. Ironically, Pedri had to hold her when she almost fought with a mother from the opposing team who's child had knocked Axel down rather harshly, which, of course, provided excellent ammunition for Isa’s father to tease his daughter.
*****************************************
Six months later
"Are you sure about this?" Isa asked for the thousandth time that day, making Pedri roll his eyes.
"Jesus... baby. Have you always been this anxious?" Pedri looked at the woman who was leaning against the door frame, staring at the large room, the room of the house that would be theirs. Ever since he had suggested they move in together, Isa had been showing signs of insecurity. Pedri walked over to her, holding her by the waist and pulling her into the house. Isa looked at him coyly. "There is nothing I want more than this, Isa. A house with you and Axel." Isa smiled at him, and God, how Pedri loved the woman's smile and the way her eyes sparkled for him.
"Pedriiii," Axel ran into the house.
"See, Axel. I told you they would be stalling while we do the heavy work," Fer said, dropping a box in the middle of the room.
"That's the first box you've picked up," Pedri said, looking at his brother while picking Axel up in his arms.
"Can we swim?" Axel asked excitedly. Ever since they had visited the house for the first time, the little boy had been excited about the pool in the backyard.
"Later, when everyone is here," Pedri replied. Axel nodded in understanding and got down from the player's arms, going to sit next to Fer on the couch.
Pedri saw Isa go upstairs and decided to follow her. In the past few days, the woman had been a bundle of nerves and anxiety, and he, more than anyone, understood all her fears, honestly, the idea that she might change her mind disturbed him to his core. He found her standing at the door of Axel's room. Pedri approached her, hugging her from behind. He kissed the back of her neck, making her giggle as she turned to face him.
"Are you sure about this?" she asked once more. "I'm a mother, and we have an age difference. I don't want you to take on such a big responsibility unless you're sure."
"You know we only have a four-year and a few months' difference, right?" Pedri said with humor. "And I am sure. I've been sure since the first time I saw you." Isa frowned.
"At the nightclub?" she asked, confused, and Pedri laughed, kissing her face.
"Yes, at the nightclub..." Isabella looked at him skeptically. "I am sure about this, baby. I've always been sure I wanted this, given the upbringing and family I had. But it was something distant until I met you and Axel. The moment you two came into my life, I knew I didn't want it with anyone else but you two." Pedri kissed Isa's forehead and wiped away the tears that streamed down her face. She kissed him so intensely that Pedri was sure he fell in love with her all over again.
********************************************
One Year Later
Isa could feel her heart in her throat, she could feel how fast it was beating, her hands were shaking uncontrollably, and tears were streaming down her face. Barcelona had won the Champions League, in an El Clásico, with an incredible comeback, and with the essential participation of Gavi and Pedri. The latter played an extraordinary game, the quality of his passes, his assists, and his leadership on the field. Isa felt her chest tighten with pride, or maybe she was having a heart attack. After all, no one expected or imagined that Barcelona would have such strength this season. As soon as the referee blew the final whistle, the stadium roared with a roar, a roar that had been stuck in their throats for years. An official came to the box to call the players' families to enter the field. Axel was ecstatic, his face red and swollen from crying. Isa wasn't sure if he understood the enormity of everything that was happening or if he was just carried away by his grandfather's emotions and Pedri's family. The player's mother was trembling so much, with a proud look on her face, and in the last minutes of extra time, the elderly woman had squeezed Isa's hand so tightly that it left marks. Pedri's father had picked Axel up, explaining that this way he wouldn't feel unwell. The player's brother had knelt to cry, and Isa hugged him, his tears soaking the woman's shirt. She admired the relationship they had so much. Even Isa's father had cried, and the man was usually tough, but he had cried, and Isa couldn't take him seriously because he was wearing a shirt he had received from Pedri's fans, a shirt with a picture of Gavi and Axel with the words "proud grandfather," and of course, the number 8 on the back, which he wore proudly.
"Pedriiii" Axel jumped down from Pedri's father's arms and ran across the field towards the player, who knelt to pick up the little boy. Isa felt her eyes welling up with tears again, and she tried to control herself for the photos. Isa stood back, wanting to let the boy's parents enjoy the moment. After all, they had worked so hard to get to that day.
"Isaaa," Gavi approached, hugging her.
"Gavira, congratulations, you deserve it so much. I'm so happy, I feel like a proud mother," Isa hugged him tightly. Isa looked behind the boy, and as if reading her mind, Gavi hurried to speak.
"She went to calm the things first" Gavi rolled his eyes, making Isa laugh.
Before they could continue the conversation, Isa's father approached, pulling Gavi towards him. The man gave Gavi a tight hug and gave him a speech about how proud he was of the boy. Gavi was almost crying, and the two were in an honest conversation, Isa could only think about how she had lost her father and son to Barcelona players.
"Hi, Ms. Gonzalez. You look beautiful" Ferran approached, greeting her with a hug.
"Thank you, Ferran, you too. Congratulations, you were amazing."
"Thank you, Isa. It's beautiful to see a father and his favorite kid," the player joked, looking at Gavi and Isa's father.
"Can you believe that?" Isa said indignantly. "He doesn't even hide that he has a favorite." Ferran laughed.
"Look at the size of your darling's pout. If there weren't cameras all around, he would have thrown me away by now," Ferran joked, pointing to Pedri on the other side of the field, who was looking their way but quickly looked away when he realized they were watching him. "Wow, I just had a major déjà vu," Ferran said, and Isa looked confused. "From when he saw you for the first time," he concluded.
"At the club?" Isa asked curiously, and Ferran chuckled.
"That wasn't the first time Pedri saw you." Isa looked at Pedri and then back at Ferran, who laughed at her reaction. "We were in the media room recording for the club, you walked in, and he was mesmerized. You didn't even notice him, but the boy was taken," Isa's mouth dropped open in shock.
"My God, I thought he saw me at the club."
"No, that was his stalker phase. He overheard you talking with the social media girls about going to that club and forced us to go with him," Ferran said, laughing. "He risked his 'I'd rather stay home, I don't like parties' reputation for you." Isa laughed out loud at the newly acquired information and looked at her boyfriend, who was frowning.
"Let me go over there or he'll get rid of you..." Isa said, laughing and hugging Ferran goodbye.
Isa walked slowly towards her boyfriend, who was watching his brother run after Axel, but his face was serious. He saw Isa approaching but paid no attention. She rolled her eyes and put her arms around the player's waist, who didn't reciprocate the gesture.
"Congratulations, mi amor," Isa said, leaning in to kiss the player, but he turned his face. "PEDRI," she said indignantly and pinched his arm, making him laugh and finally look at her and wrap his arms around her. Isa observed the player's face and never got tired of doing so. She loved looking at every little detail of his face.
"I can only accept sharing your attention with Gavi, and just because you and your father force me," he said, looking into Isa's eyes. The sparkle in them made the butterflies in her stomach take flight. "You congratulated them first," he said, feeling hurt.
"Love, it was your parents' moment," Isa explained, holding Pedri's face. "I am so proud, you were incredible throughout the championship, but today you were a level above everyone," Isa said proudly and saw Pedri's cheeks, already flushed from the game, turn even rosier, and his eyes filled with tears. He lowered his head, resting on her shoulder, the intimacy of the embrace putting them in their world as if it were just the two of them, nothing else around. But they were soon brought back to reality when they heard Fer shouting.
"Axel, no, your mother is going to kill me." Isa turned so quickly to see what her son was doing, and when she saw, she felt like strangling her boyfriend's brother. Axel was holding a bottle of champagne, shaking it, and trying to open it.
"My God..." Pedri muttered behind her amused by the scene, laughing at his brother running after the boy to try to get the bottle. Before Isa could go after the boy, Pedri pulled her back to him. "Let it be... Fer is watching, I want you here with me," Pedri said in her ear.
"Gross, what you two want to do can't be done here on the field, for God's sake," Gavi suddenly appeared next to them, startling them. Gavi laughed and tried to pull Isa into a hug, but Pedri prevented him.
"What's with you all competing for my girlfriend's attention?" Pedri said indignantly.
"It's not my fault she prefers me," Gavi winked at Isa, "and besides, sons have priority," Gavi teased, and Pedri rolled his eyes.
"Your brother is trying to get drunk, so why don't you go bother him before my brother has a heart attack from stress," Pedri pointed to Fer, who was still chasing Axel, who was laughing as he ran away.
"My God, I leave you for a minute..." Gavi said, moving away and running after Axel.
It was past three in the morning, the music was already playing at a lower volume, and there were remnants of burst balloons around the yard. Isa’s father had prepared a party for when the team returned to Barcelona after the final, as he was certain that victory and the title would come. And since it was more intimate than a nightclub, most of the players, staff, and families had attended; it had been completely lively, yet cozy. Several players had gotten drunk, even the club president had enjoyed everything, all of them forgetting that they would walk through the city the next morning to celebrate with the fans. At least their hungover faces would make for great photos and memes on social media. Isa had just finished helping her step mother put her father to bed; the man had finally rested. He was so proud that he even made a big speech about how proud he was of his kids Pedri, and Gavi, which drew a lot of laughter from those present.
Isa thought about tidying up a bit to have less mess the next day but quickly gave up as she was too tired, so she headed to the yard in search of her son. Axel had also enjoyed the celebration, and Isa was impressed by how his energy never seemed to run out. The woman’s eyes scanned the yard, and her heart skipped a beat when she saw Pedri sitting on the outdoor sofa, with Axel sleeping in his lap. He was accompanied by a few teammates in a quieter conversation. Pedri was visibly tired but held Axel with great care. Isa would never get tired of the bond between them and would be eternally grateful to Pedri for the affection he had for her son. Isa approached slowly, and as soon as Pedri noticed her, he gave a very genuine smile.
"Let's take Axel to bed," Isa said, and Pedri simply nodded. They said goodbye to the group; those who were there were regulars and knew how to manage themselves.
"He needs a bath," Pedri commented as he followed Isa to the bedroom.
"If we wake him up for that, we won’t sleep anymore," Isa said, laughing, and Pedri concluded that it wouldn’t be a good idea. He placed Axel in bed, left a kiss on the boy's forehead, and left the room. Isa repeated the gesture, and just as she was about to leave, Axel’s sleepy little voice called her back.
"Mommy, I’m so happy..." he mumbled.
"I know, baby, I am too," Isa said, running her hand through his hair.
"I’m so happy that Pedri is ours..." Isa laughed at the comment but felt her heartbreak, and remembered the conversation she had with her father when she felt insecure about her relationship with Pedri, right after Henry’s family threatened to take Axel’s custody if she didn’t return to her marriage with Henry, as he was Axel’s father and should be present in the child's life. Those were turbulent and sad weeks, and Isa almost fell into emotional manipulation, but her father always told her that she had to think about her happiness because it would consequently bring Axel’s happiness since he felt what she did, and he would only be happy if she was. And true, genuine happiness only existed when they were with Pedri.
"Yes, me too," Isa admitted and waited for a response from Axel, but there was none; he had fallen back asleep. Isa closed the door and headed to her and the player's room. The room was dark, but the bathroom light was on. Isa took off her clothes and went to the bathroom, finding Pedri in the bathtub. He smiled at her as she settled into the small space with him. It didn’t take long for him to slide into her, and they celebrated the title in another way that night.
**********************************************
Three Years Later
Isa had many insecurities about having a relationship with Pedri; she had never thought about the consequences or what it might bring to her life. She would have to deal with gratuitous hatred, malicious comments about the age difference, and unfounded rumors. But with Pedri, it was possible to forget these details that could influence her life. It had been this way since the first time she was with him, the first time she saw him at the nightclub. When she saw him, she knew who he was, knew she would be working with him, and that she should not have any relationship with him, but he was extremely inviting, and Isa felt attracted to him from then on. And as she saw how he treated Axel, he increasingly found a place in her heart. Axel was her life, and seeing Pedri’s concern and care for the boy filled her heart. Isa never imposed anything on the player; she always treated their relationship as a friendship from the start.
Isa entered the living room, and Pedri was sitting on the couch with one arm resting behind his head while the other was using his phone. Axel was lying a few meters away from him, sleeping. The two were inseparable, and this filled Isa’s heart.
"Pedriiii," Isa said softly so as not to wake her son. Pedri looked at her, a smile on his lips. He put his phone down on the couch and stretched his arms out to his woman. Isa smiled widely at the player, approaching with animated hops, and then sat on his lap, nestling her face into the crook of his neck. Pedri held her in a tight hug.
"I missed you," he mumbled. Isa pulled back to look at him and left a kiss on his lips, feeling the butterflies in her stomach take flight. Pedri held her face, kissing her forehead and hugging her once more.
"Our boy scored two goals today. He did my celebration for one of them, and for the other, he pointed to your dad, Gavi, and Fer; they almost cried," Pedri said with humor, looking at the little boy. Isa smiled, looking at her son. "Then he spent hours on a video call with my parents, telling them about the game, and when I sent them the video of his celebrations, they almost cried too." Isa pouted as she watched the photos and videos Pedri had taken, since her flight was delayed and she couldn’t see Axel’s game.
"And then he demanded that my mom come here to make his favorite food in celebration, so, well, they’re coming tomorrow." Isa smiled; Axel had his grandparents wrapped around his finger, and Isa felt her heart burst with how much he was loved by Pedri’s parents and brother. There were no fears, no tears—well, except when they had to go back home.
"Today some little girls were cheering for him..." Pedri said hesitantly. Isa looked at him quickly. "Then Fer asked, ‘Hey Axel, which one of these is your girlfriend?’ He got so red," Pedri said, laughing.
"Gavi joined in on the fun, and for the first time, I saw a fan—or rather, a Barcelona fan—give him a deadly look, and Gavi was so scared. I think he never expected to be disliked by a fan. Fer and your dad laughed so much at him, but your dad was ready to fight the little girl to defend his oldest grandson." Isa laughed heartily.
"I can’t leave you guys alone; you attract too much attention," Isa said jealously. She still wasn’t at peace with the attention Axel was getting and would receive. "And when Gavi is with you...I see the comments, your fans go crazy."
"Don’t worry, love. Me, and your two sons, are all yours." Isa grew serious, grateful for the turn the conversation had taken. "Well, Gavi more or less..." Isa rolled her eyes.
"Well, hopefully now at least a little girl will come to keep me company. It won’t even things out, but it’s a start." Pedri laughed and kissed Isa’s forehead, not seeming to catch on to what she had said. Isa remained silent, and so did Pedri, the room filled only with Axel’s sleepy breathing. Pedri pulled back, his eyes wide, finally realizing what she had said.
"Love...are you serious?" he said, emotional. Isa smiled widely at her husband.
"Congratulations, Daddy!" she whispered in Pedri’s ear. The player hugged her so tightly that Isa could feel her shirt getting wet from his tears.
"Thank you, thank you for giving them to me," Pedri said emotionally.
"Thank you, for choosing us, for embracing Axel and being the best dad in the world." Pedri sniffled, hugging her again. "Can you believe we’ll have another little voice calling ‘Pedriiii’ everywhere?" Pedri laughed, wiping his face.
"I’ll need to stock up on more M&Ms," Pedri joked, and Isa made a face.
"Love, can I tell you a secret? But you have to pretend you don’t know," Isa said seriously. Pedri looked at her, confused.
"Axel hates them," Isa said with humor.
"What?" Pedri asked, confused.
"M&Ms."
"What????" Pedri shouted, and Isa quickly covered the player’s mouth.
"Yes!!!" Isa said, laughing at his reaction.
"Isabella Gonzalez, impossible. He was so passionate about them." Pedri was too perplexed by such information.
"Because you liked them!!! And he mistook them for Skittles when he took them from my bag, and since he took them secretly, he couldn’t admit it...I think giving them to you was his way of getting rid of the evidence, but you ruined everything when you started giving them back to him." Pedri’s eyes widened, and Isa couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction.
"Wow, you mean our whole relationship might not exist if Axel had picked the right candy?" Pedri squinted, and Isa shrugged. "Nah, this would have happened anyway," Pedri concluded, pointing to the two of them, and Isa smiled at his admission. "Either way, your son is a great actor," Pedri said, laughing. Isa looked at him, offended.
"Oh, now he’s my son? When you want to impress your female audience, it’s my son here, my kid there," Isa rolled her eyes, making Pedri laugh.
"Baby, you’re the one who’s most impressed when I say those things," Pedri teased, and Isa smiled, embarrassed.
"I can’t believe he kept that secret for three years..." Pedri said, amused but finding the newly received information hilarious. Axel was something. Pedri looked at the boy sleeping peacefully on the couch and placed one of his hands on Isa’s belly, feeling extremely grateful for everything he had gained.
**********************************************
N/A: CRYING, SOBBING AND THROWING UP.
"I want to thank everyone who followed this story, all the likes, comments, and support made my days much better. I bid farewell to this story, but not definitively, because when Pedriiii and Isa speak in my head, I promise to bring it to you. My Gavi's girls, I promise I haven't forgotten about you, and there's a hint about his story in this chapter. My delusional mind took over in this chapter, and it firmly believes that next year the Champions League is ours. lol Visca El Barça!"
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yeyinde · 3 days
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So i had this thought, what if Ghost was a doll maker? He makes those creepy human sized dolls, his shop is in an isolated part of the city (a lot of people purposely avoid his shop because of the bad vibes) and he spends most of his time in his basement carving. He also makes curses and haunted things and then he creates you, a beautiful doll. You are one of his many creations but a bit different. You yearn for him, crave his touch. He is your creator, basically your god and you need his love. He couldn't care less though always complains about creating a needy doll while secretly enjoying how she worships him
Honestly i don't even know if this makes sense lmao just wanted to leave it here
i adore this. i love this particular subgenre (esp when it's horror/dark romance) of building/making something that becomes obsessed with you. ai, androids, dolls, frankensteinian monsters. i'll take them alllll. creator x creation, my beloved. what you originally start as something meant to be symbiotic that devolves and changes into something parasitic?? ruinous? goddddd. that's my raison d'etre.
and this is such a unique spin!!!!! usually it's Frankenstein's monster x hapless human so the idea of you being the thing made by Ghost to satiate some aspect he's yearning for instead the other way around is so intriguing to me.
like maybe he starts out making something to occupy himself. doesn't really have any clear direction. and if we want to add in some layers, maybe "you" were someone he saw in passing. a person he was once obsessed with/couldn't save, etc. but maybe "you" died. and this is a replica, an effigy. except. we have endless warnings in mythology and religion about making something in the likeness of another. cue some well placed lightening, and then bang. you wake up. and he isn't sure how to handle you not really being "you."
(also: this is giving me an incredible idea for a Ghoap story 👀 might fuck around and write something GROTESQUE about Simon making "Johnny" because he can't move on and what comes to life is. well. i'm also def adding this to the Simon x Reader wip list w full creds (on both accounts, Ghoap and x Reader), because, op, this is such a godtier idea and ahhhhhhhhhh)
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olderthannetfic · 1 day
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Tbh I feel like some Europeans are trying to use BIPOC or US race politics because they don't want to confront that maybe, just maybe they're actually racists, and if they'd have to actually only focus on Europe instead of scapegoating the US, they'd have to look in the mirror. "Czech women are all whores. It's in their blood." "I can't wait for Ukraininan women to come here as refugees, much cheaper than local women, and more docile." "G**sies are all thieves and swindlers." And other a lot more graphic, and disgusting comments would otherwise force them to confront that they're just racists, and that those aren't jokes, and that it's actually fucking sick, and they're perpetuating historical racism and exploitation even today. This isn't even just a right problem, some people on the left have the exact same opinions, they'll just package it in a more wannabe progressive wrapping.
Just from what I've seen, Europeans might start talking about racism, but then it's only ever in relation to the US. They basically only admit to things that happen in the US also happening in Europe, but even then they'll say it in such a way that European racism is less bad. X happened in the US, racism bad, if it didn't happen in the US no need to think about it here. "What about the way Europeans treat Roma and Sinti?" *crickets* That's not racism, that's just jokes. *writes an entire tangent about how G**psies (Roma and Sinti) are subhumans and are a plight on the honest people.* -Hyperbole... not really, but yeah.
Tbh, I actually feel a lot of countries do that. The US is more aware of racial issues. Then every other country in and outside the West, immediately shoves their skeletons in the closet and pretend that not acknowledging their own racism, and putting all the blame on the US means they can't be racist.
--
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bisexualhomelander · 3 days
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400 words of angsty Butchlander because "I'll miss us" gave me bigger brainrot than Billy has.
“This wasn’t how it was supposed to go!”
Billy is slammed against the wall hard enough that he can’t breathe for several seconds, pain radiating down his spine and up into his head. His head always hurts.
Homelander holds onto him so desperately tight that Billy thinks the wall might be more forgiving.
“What, you think you can just-” Homelander chuckles helplessly. “Just die on me? Just like that?”
“Ya should have been quicker, luv.”
Homelander roars and presses their bodies together, connects their lips. They’re both hard, and they start mindlessly rutting against each other.
“We can do it here, now. Tonight.”
Homelander shakes his head, not breaking the kiss. Billy isn’t sure, but he believes he can taste salt on his lips, amidst the hot breath.
“Least let us get to the bed,” he suggests.
They never make it to the bed. The first and last time they fuck is on the floor of Billy’s drafty apartment, pants haphazardly pulled down just as far as they need. Homelander presses Billy into the wood, sits down on him, doesn’t let him get a single word in. In the low lamp light, Billy can see the supe’s eyes fixated only on his brain, never once making eye contact.
It isn’t gentle, and it isn’t fun, and it isn’t even particularly satisfying, and Billy is sure some of his bones are at least cracked by the end of it, but they both do eventually come.
“Offer still stands,” Billy says and buttons his jeans again. There’s movement in his head, that thing clearly agitated by all the hormones flooding his brain. “I ain’t too weak yet. It won’t be lasers on lasers, but… we can.”
The supe doesn’t even look the slightest bit tempted. “I’d like to, believe me. But there’s no saving you. If I lose or we kill each other, who will be there for him?” Homelander takes Billy’s face between his hands and kisses him again, first his lips, then his forehead.
Billy sees the unsteadiness in his eyes, hears the airiness of his voice, knows that he himself won’t be the only one who won’t hold on for much longer. The damage done to Homelander’s brain is not lesser than the one done to his – just less visible.
“Maybe that’s better for him, don’tcha think?”
Now, Billy is surprised to see Homelander falter – if only a second.
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hippolotamus · 14 hours
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Listen, yesterday my angsty wife @bidisasterevankinard said ‘what would Buck get from Eddie? Just the will?’ and jfc here we are. Mostly under the cut for length and mentioned past suicidal thoughts. I apologize in advance. (Please let me know if I’m missing any important tags)
“Jeez, Eds, you really gotta clean out your junk drawer,” Buck calls from the kitchen.
Eddie huffs a little laugh to himself because he knows if he lets said drawer go long enough Buck will inevitably clean it himself. He always does, always has. The messiness of Eddie’s junk drawer always gets to him eventually.
“Aha!” Buck exclaims.
“Find it?” Eddie calls back. Buck is searching for a notepad to keep score. Chris is coming home in a few weeks, for the start of school, and Buck wants to brush up on Scattergories before he does.
“No, but I did find the missing Yahtzee pencil.”
Eddie shakes his head fondly, listening as Buck continues sifting through the contents, like a woodland creature making a nest.
“Finally! I didn’t think it would be so hard finding a note…pad.”
Buck’s voice trails off into silence. No sounds of the gentle giant bounding through the house. Nothing until the shaky ‘E-eds?’ so quiet Eddie almost doesn’t hear it.
He hurries to the other room, curious what could have made Buck sound so upset. But as soon as he sees his friend he knows. He recognizes the lined notebook, hurriedly hidden there months ago. Shoved in the darkness and now in Buck’s trembling hands, open to a page that was never meant to be discovered.
“Eddie,” Buck says, lifting his gaze to reveal red-rimmed eyes that dull the beautiful endless blue Eddie’s used to. “What- Is this-”
Eddie swallows, steeling himself for this conversation he wants to have even less than telling Chris he was letting him go. He manages to calmly cross the room, gently taking the pad from Buck. He stays in Buck’s space, one hand hovering over his shoulder, unsure if he has the right to offer anything soothing right now. Eventually Eddie withdraws, keeping to himself.
“It is,” Eddie confirms. “It’s exactly what you think it is.”
“But- why?!” Buck’s words are so broken and Eddie doesn’t know that any reasoning will be good enough. “Why would you- Eddie you were planning to kill yourself! And this- this is addressed to me. Was I meant to find you?! What about the rest of the team? Our family!”
Eddie can see the hurt building to rage. And he gets it. He does. He’s been on the other side of this, too. He offers the only explanation he can, even if he knows it’s piss poor and inadequate.
“Buck, the only reason you’ve never seen this before is because you did find me. It was right after Chris left and Gerrard took Bobby’s place. Everything was messy as hell. I just didn’t see the point anymore. And I thought- I thought even if Chris did come back, I wasn’t fit to parent him.”
“Eddie-”
“But you showed up. Just barged through my door like always. Because I swear you must have some kind of sixth sense. So I shoved the note away. We had beer and pizza, and you told me we could talk about Chris or anything else if I wanted to not think about it. And Tommy FaceTimed from Harbor while he was on shift, and I saw you being all gooey and gross together.” Eddie laughs, remembering how lovestruck Buck was even then. “You stayed over, slept on the sofa and something changed. Made me start to realize there might be something left for me after all. First thing the next morning I called and made an appointment with Frank.”
“O-okay,” Buck start, hesitantly. “That still does explain why this is written to me. Why not a generic note or something for Chris?”
“There was one for him, too. But when Shannon died, she left a note for Christopher. Something to explain why she was gone in case she never came back.” Eddie’s throat becomes clogged with emotion and hurt, demons he’s still fighting. “She left one for him. But nothing for me. Nothing to explain why I had to go on and live life without her. And I couldn’t do that to you. As the only other person that close to my son, I couldn’t let you wonder. I couldn’t let you waste years of your life questioning. Yes, you’re in my will, but I couldn’t leave you with only that. Like you were some arbitrary footnote meant to take care of Chris if something happened to me. I needed you to have the closure I never got. That I was never given a chance to hear.”
Between one breath and the next, Buck tackles Eddie in a tight embrace, holding on for dear life. He clutches and sobs into the crook of Eddie’s neck while Eddie clings right back, wondering how he let the darkness of everything convince him he could die without leaving a trail of hurt in his wake.
They cry together, a conversation of a million unsaid things in every wretched, anguished moment.
“Eds, please. You can’t-“ Buck’s muffled voice comes from where he’s trying to burrow further into Eddie. “You just can’t.”
“I know. I’m so sorry,” he whispers, carding his fingers through Buck’s hair. “So sorry, Evan. I won’t. Ever. I promise.”
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codenamesazanka · 2 days
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Deku’s not rejecting the 'great hero' label from All Might, and by Chapter 425, still doesn't seem more broken up about being unable to save Shigaraki. Which I think means he wasn't actually all that serious about his save. 
If he had really, truly wanted to save this Crying Child, and really, stubbornly thought he could and would, Shigaraki/Tenko’s death is a huge failure. A black mark on his values and aspirations. Failing to save a little child is just unacceptable. There’s no excuse for it, no comforting words in the aftermath, nothing. If Eri had gotten blown up during the Overhaul fight, I guarantee you Deku would be hysterical. Inconsolable. That sad abused 6-year-old he wanted to save just died. 
That Deku isn't any of that right now - or when he was conversing with Shigaraki in Shigaraki last’s moments, or when Shigaraki’s body was falling apart - means he knew Shigaraki wasn't 1-to-1 the Crying Child, he knew he wasn't actually dealing with a 5-year-old. He knew he can't actually save that 5-year-old, can't actually bring him into reality to cradle in his arms like Eri. It’s pretty obvious.
-> Deku did not believe Shigaraki was actually The Crying Child. To him, Shigaraki was an adult villain (whose life he values less than an actual innocent child - which is fair. That’s the standard belief.)
So… why repeat that mantra of 'Save The Crying Child'? Why focus so wholly on that psychic vision to the exclusion of anything else? This is already pretty gross - he’s ignoring the adult man in front of him for a psychic vision ghost child.
Then, it must be: Deku has to have known in some way that the Crying Child was only an inner representation of some trauma Shigaraki was carrying.
He'll be dealing with some mental wound inside of Shigaraki; he'll be working out Shigaraki's trauma and what exactly made him such an angry villain. Maybe healing that trauma might just cause Shigaraki to stop his rampage. 
And yet, despite knowing this was how things are, Deku never engages with Shigaraki in any way that opens up this avenue of investigation. He doesn't research anything about Shigaraki’s mental state or background or just his overall character, despite having hundreds of Shigaraki’s captured army sitting in jail cells, despite having core League member Mr. Compress right there, who evidently cared enough about his leader to mutilate himself to show Shigaraki to escape. 
Deku doesn't talk to Shigaraki, never asking questions, never calling for parley, never even just trying. If he shouted random things to Shigaraki - Do you like dogs? Isn't Danger Sense wild? If you sink Japan, that means you'll have to swim, so are you a good swimmer? - and Shigaraki ignored them, that'd be one thing. The most Deku does is to still yell about 'not ignoring the inner crying child’, but that's a statement of his (patronizing) intent. Not actually anything that invites Shigaraki to reciprocate, to create the start of a back-and-forth connection.
One might argue: Shigaraki could have responded to the ‘Crying Child’ comment so that Deku has something to work with… and Shigaraki actually does. In Chapter 412, Shigaraki says Deku is trying to fit him into his narrow worldview, when that crying child has turned into Shigaraki Tomura… But that’s not an answer that Deku accepts. He dismisses it entirely, to focus again on The Crying Child he saw. Deku doesn’t work with Shigaraki’s answer at all; it’s true the vestiges start talking to him, but Deku said himself ‘I have to ask why [Shigaraki] can’t let go of that lonely past of his’... then does not ask.
But before that, it’s not on Shigaraki to make the connection here, because he has no reason or intention to - it's entirely on Deku because Deku made it his motivation. And so it's also on Deku for refusing to latch onto any of the things Shigaraki does say: everything he’s witnessed in this world, the only thing that will save him is destruction, flattening Mt. Fuji for Spinner.
Deku supposedly wants to understand - wants connection - but it seems only on his terms, on the topic he dictates, with answers he likes. That's the farthest thing from establishing a rapport enough to even approach any inner trauma. Forget healing anything. How can he heal Shigaraki’s heart if he has no interest in what exactly lies inside of it? No, the Crying Child doesn't count. Like I said, that's the topic he dictates. 
-> Deku understood that the Crying Child was symbolic of pain that Shigaraki covered with a lid, yet when Shigaraki deigned not to share details, didn’t care much to find a way to uncover that lid beyond punching the crap out of Shigaraki.
This means… what, exactly?
There are many possible answers. None of them are good. He doesn’t actually respect Shigaraki very much, or at all. He’s only interested in Shigaraki affirming something for him. He thinks Shigaraki is despicable, but is at least nice enough to want to stop his pain - though not nice enough to do it non-violently. It’s less about Shigaraki and more about his own ego. He wanted to save Shigaraki, but also wanted him punished, so his save was brutal. 
But all that really boils down to this: Deku did not see Shigaraki as a full person, and did not treat him as such.
The Crying Child was a curiosity. He wanted to save The Crying Child to fulfill his own satisfaction. The manga backs it up:
Shigaraki, speaking through memory-visage: Say you learn more. What then? Say you expose his past to the light. Will that change a damn thing?  Deku: I don’t know! But letting this end without finding out wouldn’t sit right with me!
"letting this end without finding out wouldn’t sit right with me"
Deku doesn’t know. He doesn’t have a plan for what happens after receiving that information - no use, no application, no intentions. There’s no logic to his action here - it simply doesn’t ‘sit right’ with him. This is about his feelings. This is about fulfilling his own instinct to save. If he manages to make Shigaraki feel better, that’s good, but that’s a bonus.
Deku, during the battle, doesn’t even know if he can make Shigaraki feel better. He has no notebook full of ideas to make sure that saving Shigaraki’s heart will be the guaranteed outcome. He simply wants to try, because he wants to save, because it’s about his desire to be a Hero. The coolest thing someone can do. 
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therainscene · 3 days
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hey again! i just saw the new henry and holly pics and... well...as i commented on one post of them:
i wonder if this could be nancy's storyline even moreso than mike's? looking after holly AND mike, who is preoccupied with will as well? also, has anyone considered that vecna may just be an inside-the-UD avatar for henry, who stills exists in the real world as a human (in the form we see above?) why would he only be living in the UD as this odd spidery man? we only saw him being sent there in one memory fragment, and his transformation into the monster was also him as vecna describing things to nancy IN HER MIND. so if vecna can appear in people's minds, maybe he is only a mind-version of henry, who still exists as a real dude roaming free.
oh god i can imagine rewatching the whole series and seeing a man cropping up in the background of everything looking just like henry in those new pics! with the hat etc. he looks older there too, so it matches the timelines
Always lovely to see you, scrunchie <3
These new leaks [pics under the cut, spoilers for S5] certainly raise a lot of interesting questions, though I'm not entirely sure what to make of them right now.
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We don't know for sure that this is Holly -- they've recast her if so -- but loose blonde pigtails are her signature hairstyle and the girly dungarees would fit S5's costuming theme of S1 callbacks, so Holly's definitely a strong candidate for this character.
And even ignoring other, less solid leaks that suggest Vecna might be targeting her next season (the alleged "The Vanishing of [BLANK] Wheeler" episode title; Ted's actor mentioning that his character is going to come through for Holly) -- I do think there are already hints in the canon that there's some sort of connection between Henry and Holly.
Hint #1: I've often seen folks use this moment with Holly and the lights as evidence that Will could have powers:
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The lamps light up far too quickly for Will to have realistically affected them via the wave-your-hands-in-the-golden-aura method Nancy discovered in S4, and the circular motion of the lights parallels a training exercise from the lab.
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...But if this was Will, then how did he know Holly was there? He knew when Joyce was there because she spoke to him, but Holly doesn't talk. And why would he want to get the attentions of a toddler anyway when there are two adults in the house?
It makes sense that powers were being used here... but who says it was Will using them?
Hint #2: According to the source, this latest leak was snapped at the Creel house, which is next door to a playground. We've never seen Henry at the playground. But we have seen his sister, with her little blonde pigtails, playing there.
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Something I've always found interesting about this shot of Alice is that as she stands up in horror at the sight of the mutilated rabbit, the camera tilts up so that she's brilliantly washed out by the sun:
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Light is an important symbol in Stranger Things, so I never really knew what to make of this... but now I've seen these leaks I think it's veeeerrrry interesting that Alice and Holly have both been associated with light and childish innocence and rabbits via a single shot.
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So that's Holly. As for Henry...
I think your theory is really interesting -- my first thought on seeing these leaks was that Henry probably looks human because he's appearing to this girl in a vision, but I definitely think it's worth exploring other possibilities, because there's something weird going on with regards to Henry's banishment to Dimension X -- how did he end up in there looking so intact when we saw El completely disintegrate him into ash?
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It's giving time shenanigans, in my opinion. These leaks are certainly giving time vibes too -- why is Henry dressed like he's from the 50s while speaking to a girl who looks like she's from the 80s?
So, the Wheelers and their S5 arcs--
@conflictofthemind has an excellent theory about how whatever happens to Holly is likely to precipitate an arc in which the Wheeler family come together and overcome their conformist ways once and for all; and @pinkeoni has a scathing take-down of the idea S5 is going to rehash S1's family-and-friends-coming-together-to-rescue-a-missing-child concept. Both are good takes worth reading, I think.
Personally, I'm not sure what the hell is going on with this apparent connection between Holly and Henry -- but I do think the parallels between the Wheelers and the Creels as family units are the thing to focus on here, and I suspect time travel is probably going to be a big part of what ties it all together.
And, well. There's only one character other than Henry who is associated with interdimensional time shenanigans--
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--the light--
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--and calling Wheelers out on their harmful conformity.
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