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chaldeanu · 16 days

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afternoon ノ dr. ratio

ৎ୭ ₊ ˙ ⊹ . 4.7k ノ fem reader — vague description of comfy clothes with open buttons and lace ノ either early in the relationship or unspecified BUT with feelings — reader is just visiting ratio in his home ノ oral . both receiving ノ long foreplay . fingering ノ it is so messy and domestic ノ doing it raw . cumming inside ノ sappy and sweet dialogues here and there ノ love confessions during a rough fucking session yum! ノ fluff . comfort . smut — the full course :)

the golden rays of the afternoon sun filter through the linen drapes, casting a warm, ethereal glow upon the house.

the classy furniture and one rug, woven with intricate patterns and vibrant hues, add charm to the overall rather minimalistic interior. throughout the room, various relics and books, both old and freshly published, infuse the space with a sense of elegancy.

veritas ratio thinks you fit the imagery perfectly, finding you exactly where he expected you to be — on the plush cushions on the sofa, adorned with rich fabrics and delicate embroidery, beckoning to sink into their soft embrace. the gilded mirror reverses the soft light, casting a golden glitter on the place where you sit.

you notice him in the reflection before you turn to face him. he looks magnificent with that charming smile of his.

there is something about your appearance that catches his eyes too — perhaps the way the homey clothing falls over your lap or the loosely open buttons that bring attention to your chest? or maybe it’s the lace that hugs your curves.

whatever it is, the fact is that he has always thought you beautiful, even though he rarely compliments anyone. and now you appreciate the peaceful afternoon in his living room as if it was your own.

“hi… how’s work?” you ask to start the conversation.

“work? challenging. however, i would not engage in it if it were overly facile. i enjoy mental stimulation.” his voice sounds proud yet elegant, his figure confident. he stands up straight as a candle, while the back of his hand is close to his chin. appearing more like a statue than a human being.

“mhm… taking a break, then? to clear your mind?”

“yes, indeed. there is only one thing that can help me relax at this hour… that one activity i dearly love when time is in abundance…” his grin is soft and smug as he walks closer.

his approach does not scare you — in fact, it is rather endearing.

enough time for you to put down the book you were reading before he leans against the headrest and asks for your hand.

the contact makes you embarrassed. veritas ratio keeps smiling and leaves a sweet peck on your knuckles. another one on your wrist. and then on your forearm, travelling up along your body.

before you realise, he is already kissing you passionately and finds a way to touch your waist under the comfy clothes, tickling and teasing the skin. when it comes to your attitude, you get shy when he touches you like that — a contrast to his unwavering demeanour, how easily you sway under his confidence.

as his hands trail down, caressing you in sensitive spots and brushing against your thighs, his lips never stop tasting yours, occasionally drawing little patterns along your neck.

he likes you, loves you in some ways even, though it would require another page of explanations — sometimes he just wishes to make sure you know of his fondness, while using you to get rid of the stress that occupies his brain.

“may i touch you? will you spread your legs for me?” he murmurs with that haughty smile of his.

it feels weirdly empowering to hear him say something like that, especially knowing he isn’t used to asking others such questions. you do as he asked, letting veritas’ long fingers slip past the thin layers of fabrics.

you shiver with delight and anticipation as his cool digits press firmly onto your burning flesh. his palm shifts carefully, just barely, testing out what his moves have on you. his other one is resting on your chest, pressing your body deeper into the sofa and holding it still.

in no time, one finger parts your pussy apart and penetrates you in the most careful manner possible — it’s gentle, almost too cautious to be real, ensuring that he’s not setting a pace your body cannot match until you’re warm and wet.

“mmh… that’s an unusual way to rest from work. you’re still thinking too much, you know?” you say with a dreamy sigh, starting to enjoy all these little sparks he extracts from your insides.

veritas chuckles.

“indeed, i am. however, my thoughts now are focused solely upon pleasing you,” he answers. “i must say… i prefer this state of mind.”

you moan softly, but immediately feel ashamed of your reaction, as if it were inappropriate for such sounds to be voiced. veritas looks pleased, though, watching with intent as his digit slides further into your core, easier. you wish you could reach out to touch him in return, but he’s sitting upright and away from your needy hands — so you resort to hugging a pillow close to your chest.

there is a sizable tent forming in his trousers and you wonder if he will allow you to taste him later.

the idea is so exciting and your inner walls squeeze his digit as it sinks with each slow thrust. the firm tip of his thumb rubs gentle circles on your clit, sending jolts of pleasure up your nerves. nothing gets past his cautious eyes. he peers at you intently, drinking in the sight of your squirming form.

instead of adding another digit, he lowers himself down the couch and parts your knees even wider, giving his head room between your legs.

the feeling of his soft, slick tongue slipping over your glistening pussy is heavenly, and your grip on the pillow tightens, as the motions become more demanding, exploring your folds and the area around your opening. his finger continues the agonisingly steady rhythm, guiding you into the bliss.

each flick of his wet muscle has your breathing speed up a notch. veritas doesn’t rush things though. he’s well aware of every move he makes and the impact it has on you — yet you can tell there is something about him that stays collected as he continues.

even through the haze of your lust, you sense that he’s trying to figure out if there are more ways in which he could satisfy you.

just when you think the stimulation will be enough to get you there in a few moments, his hands retreat and his mouth latches onto your sensitive bundle of nerves, causing the ecstasy to arrive immediately. the unexpected sensation has you cry out, and clamp your thighs around his head for a moment before forcing them back open again. he continues as if nothing happened and slowly coaxes a wave of arousal, swallowing hungrily as it spills onto his face. he does not cease his actions, not until your entire being trembles with release.

withdrawing reluctantly, he licks his lips before giving you one final, sweet peck on your slit, listening to your hiccups. then he rests his head against your lap and looks up with a smirk.

“given the look on your face,“ he comments before reaching for the wipes from under the coffee table and cleaning the mess off your folds and from his chin, “this was far more beneficial than i anticipated…”

“let me touch you too…” you whine weakly, still coming down to your senses, each caress of his palm on your inner thigh making you bounce.

pondering over your sweet plea for a moment, he moves up until straddling your chest, his muscular legs on each side of your frame and his pants in front of your face. the view makes your body tremble in excitement. working on opening his slacks, he keeps the eye contact with you, the amber of his irises warmly burning onto your face.

his cock springs out and slaps lightly against your cheek, his hips inching further down. you immediately grasp the opportunity to swirl your tongue around the tip and lap at the hot flesh eagerly.

not to waste any more time with what’s right before you, you start sucking until you hear a soft chuckle from him.

“quite lovely, this sight of yours.”

your lips pop around the hard girth and you smile while panting, his hand petting your head gently.

“hmm… you can use my mouth, if you want to,” with an adorable giggle, you kiss the glossy head and pump the base lazily with your fist.

his eyes light up at that idea as he slides his shaft more down your throat, making you groan with effort as you struggle to keep up without gagging.

the burning ache of your jaw, combined with his quiet praise, is enough to light the fire in your own core again, your fists clasping around his hips for support as he fucks your mouth in shallow thrusts.

“i would prefer not to make you uncomfortable. this is enough…” he says with a dark timbre in his voice, staring right into your teary eyes.

unable to speak, you only take him deeper, his length tapping at the back of your throat and catching him by a surprise. breathlessly, but no less excited, he smiles and gets the hint that you wish to continue.

“very well then,” he begins to buck his hips, working his way to a better angle, taking care to not go too rough.

your nose bumps against his underbelly from time to time as he eases further. it’s an odd yet pleasurable mix of being choked and suffocating, but it’s the sight of him that’s driving you insane — someone who’s done everything with perfection is now panting above you, a peachy tint of blush on his face as he gets hot.

it doesn’t take much to bring him close to the edge — perhaps it’s been too long since he got some relief, or perhaps it’s your performance that impresses him. either way, it feels wonderful to witness how much he’s enjoying it, and even more, when silent moan slips down his tongue and he stills your head with his cock buried in your mouth.

it takes all of his endurance and patience to refuse to cum, the damp warmth of your throat and mixed saliva with his precum teasing too much out of him. especially when it runs past your lips in a single drop as you cough lightly…

slowly pulling out, veritas holds the head of his still hard dick to your face, stroking himself to ease the strain and the need for release. you blink innocently while he smears the drool around your mouth and cheeks, collecting some at his fingertips to let you suck them clean.

“mhm… very good,” he sighs. “i would ask for more from you… there are plenty of other things we could explore together, in case you are willing.”

he quickly kisses your forehead as you hum happily, nodding and agreeing.

“i will get you water, wait a moment.” he helps you to sit up.

when you drink from the glass he brought, veritas watches with a smile as if he were proud to see you gulp it down, waiting for you to finish.

“will you stay with me overnight? i would love to feel you close during sleep,” he asks with an unexpected, yet honest tenderness in his tone.

it makes your heart race to know that he’d want such closeness with you. you are about to give in when he continues.

“well, you know me — i never ask unless i need something. if you have anything planned, i can take you to your place instead… that is, if you are comfortable with that,” his words trail off quietly.

the last drops of water trickle down your throat and you cough once more to get rid of the sticky residue from the insides of your cheeks, but then you smile at him, flushed and glowing.

“of course i want to… i’ve been missing you quite a lot lately, you know?” you purr at him, cradling his face in your arms as you shift closer.

a pair of sharp brows quirks up with interest. the amber of his eyes shines in golden hues of the afternoon and you swear you can hear him chuckle softly. suddenly, the couch seems warmer, but it’s not from the thin rays of the sun that peek from behind the curtains.

“what an interesting reply. you cannot hide it from me anymore… your yearning,” he notes confidently.

“neither do you.” you point out.

at that, he flips you flat over his lap, your tummy resting on the sofa while your ass perks up nicely right under his hands. a firm slap on your butt has you yelping in surprise.

“true… it appears i cannot, though that was not the answer i was looking for, dear.”

the little squeaks you made only help his palm to fall more freely, spanking you like that — it meets your flesh again gently, playfully even, but he allows the sting to linger this time.

but he does not relish in granting you pain, even if so brief, so his fingers slide down between your legs again.

he can feel that you are still wet from your earlier orgasm — yet there is something in the way his touch makes you shiver, his deft digits trailing along your heated, slick skin, that makes him more eager to get you squirm in his hold again.

“what a marvellous thing you are… just where i want you to be.” he coos.

in a blink of an eye, you find yourself pressed against the embroidered cushions, your clothes once more doing absolutely nothing to cover you up when they get pulled to the side. all you can do is to cry out when his thumb slides inside and he starts circling your clit with his index.

“fuck!” you pant in disbelief, his clever digits setting the perfect tempo, slipping in and out easily while rubbing your sensitive button.

veritas doesn’t utter a word — he seems to be studying the way your body reacts to his movements, gauging your every gasp and twitch. when he finds a pattern that makes you moan louder and cling to the fabric, he does not stop until your pleasure bursts in its peak.

there is no break for you — he uses your thighs to grind his cock into full hardness again, enjoying the feeling of your velvety walls hugging his thumb.

then it stops abruptly, as he’s pulling out with a satisfied grunt.

“would you allow me to feel you in a different manner?” he asks with his chin on your shoulder and his breath ghosting against your neck.

he leans down and presses another kiss just below your ear, his teeth grazing on your sensitive skin, followed by his lips moving down your nape, his tongue licking and tasting as he goes.

“it will certainly take all my remaining energy to make this day unforgettable for you. i truly hope that you will forgive my boldness in that matter,” his whispers travel through the waves of your senses.

there is no strength left within you to lift your head or talk — the impression of his hands gliding over your flesh, massaging your back before sliding lower to cup your ass is maddening. your lips part in a soft groan of pleasure when you feel his naked erection pressing in between your cheeks, sliding languidly between your folds.

“may i?” his voice is tight, like his patience has run thin as he pushes the tip in just a few inches.

you whine helplessly, rutting against the pillows and the couch, desperately seeking friction. you can barely breathe properly, trying to speak while he slides deeper, the pressure of him stretching you against your limit already making you squirm.

“yes, please… f-feels amazing.”

without wasting any more time, veritas draws his hips back only to drive himself in and to pin your body onto the sofa with his weight. it is overwhelming, he fills you up just right, your body convulsing as he brushes a particularly sensitive spot.

there are no more coherent thoughts from you. you cannot help but keen in pure delight, clawing the cushion, his hands resting on your hips.

the first few strokes are slow and shallow, allowing you to ease into the new sensation and enjoy his manly frame surrounding you. he does not miss a single beat — it takes him mere seconds to realise you will probably bruise with his forceful grip on your body, and he backs off to hover over you again, leaving your backside exposed.

“ouch, thanks.” you gasp out in relief, freed from his strength, a moment later asking shakily. “you’re doing alright?”

“ah, well. i cannot complain… in fact, i would appreciate more of this tight heat around my cock… and i can surely fulfil your wishes as well,” he promises, his thrusts picking up the pace.

it is almost overbearing with how rough he treats you now, your clenching pussy spurring him on as he pounds you mercilessly. you squeeze your eyes shut and bite your lip, while he forces you to accept each swift pump of his girth until you lose yourself.

“should i be gentler? make it more bearable for you?”

“no… really,” you murmur. “fuck me until you are content. please…” you whimper.

your heart is about to jump out of your chest as it thrums against the upholstery. veritas is right behind you, his grip returning on your hips, pulling you backwards each time he bucks his hips forward.

he’s much more demanding now, taking everything he wants from your body as he slams himself in and out with desire, fucking you faster and harder, yet his face shows nothing more than serenity as he continues, completely composed as his pelvis snaps against your backside.

he doesn’t respond, too focused on satisfying his need as he bounces your butt. the tension is rising in you with every stroke, as you bury your face into the pillows and drown your sobs into it.

veritas pushes in as deep as he can go, before slowing down until he comes to a stop, nestled comfortably inside of you.

his chest rests against your back and he finally moves his arms, wrapping them around you from above, pulling you close. you try to turn your head to see his face, but he won’t let you, placing soft kisses along your hairline instead.

“you should get used to it by now. i want you to remember the feeling of me inside of you… for quite some time, at least. besides, we both know you prefer this position, don’t you?” his voice is warm as he speaks in a whisper.

“i love this,” you answer with a struggle. “ngh… you make me so happy,” you add, nuzzling the pillow with a fire dancing on your cheeks.

a rich chuckle resonates in his chest. he lies perfectly still for a while, his length throbbing against your core and bringing a strange comfort with it — in moments like this, it is almost hard to believe he could be capable of being mean.

just when you think you’re getting drowsy, he presses another sweet kiss against the crook of your neck.

“i am delighted to hear that.” he shifts, his tip nudging your inner walls once again and making you whimper. “i do hope i am doing well in treating you appropriately, though. if there is anything you wish for, tell me.”

“well… perhaps you could move.” you wiggle your bum a bit, brushing your swollen core against him.

the sound of his laugh is music to your ears, especially as his gentle hand pulls away to take a firm hold of your butt and starts caressing the supple flesh.

“alright.”

with deliciously slow motions, he rocks his hips forward and back. the slapping sound of his skin against yours growing in volume, despite your own wailing. incredibly tight and sensitive in the cage of his arms — you yield.

“want you… please, yes…” your moans seem to spur him on even more.

veritas pulls back only to snap his hips into you in one strong thrust, the base of his thick girth crowding you entirely, your arousal providing more than enough slick to take him in. your thighs quiver with every stroke, but you feel delirious as you eagerly take whatever he decides to give.

a quiet mewl escapes your lips when he reaches an angle that allows him to rub his shaft right on all the sensitive spots — the sensual massage makes you weak and unable to form words.

the other hand is resting on your nape, keeping your face planted firmly into the pillows. the gentle hum of his voice only adds fuel to the fire igniting deep within your loins, but you can’t deny the pleasure you derive from listening to his ranting, his velvety tone vibrating in his throat.

“hmph, and you shall have me…”

it is possible to tell, even through your pleasured haze, that you have started to satisfy his needs — your tight, soaked cunt gripping him in a way that has him craving for the finale.

he places his lips next to your ear and sighs before his next words.

“i cannot be lenient with you… it seems i really am attracted to that naive individual whose actions brought us to this very desperate situation.”

this makes your heart flutter with affection towards him, yet you do not move. his tender touch and loving words, however, are enough to make you swoon as he keeps speaking, his eyes falling half-lidded.

“this is not the first time i found myself thinking about how beautiful you look while lost in passion. and i really, really would like to help you to come undone. soon.”

the last thing he says before focusing solely on driving his hips flush against yours.

each long thrust is paired with a grunt from him as he rams in and out of your abused hole, your body trapped under him as you lay limp against the plush sofa, while he pins you down.

you feel him everywhere, his hands groping you wherever he finds space between the pillows, his cock pumping relentlessly between your legs as his lower abdomen rolls smoothly against your butt.

you try to suppress your wailing, but a choked moan still slips from between your lips. his chin resting on your shoulder while his cheek rests on your head, close, almost like cuddling. your legs are already shaking, the sensation is so overwhelming that it brings tears to your eyes, your clenching pussy driving him absolutely crazy, the muscles spasming around him forcing his eyelids shut as he begins to breathe heavily.

veritas drops his voice an octave, whispering against your hair as he keeps up the fast pace, not giving you time to recover. he’s close too — your whole body trembles beneath his weight.

“yes, come on… cum for me,” he says with a raw, husky tone.

without the support of the pillows, your forehead sinks into the sofa and you feel him curl his fingers in your hair. he tugs softly at the locks as he holds onto you and uses his other hand to keep you steady for him.

there is no way for you to prevent your legs from twitching violently as the wave hits you at full force, your entire frame shuddering while he fucks you through your release.

his movements get jerkier with each thrust, but he does not pull out to spill onto your skin — instead he rides your high while chasing his own until he stiffens, releasing himself deep into you with a groan.

he collapses on your back, panting heavily as he covers you completely. the room is spinning as he drifts in his pleasure, his palms roaming across your body while you feel your toes going numb, the muscles of your pelvic floor throbbing painfully.

veritas doesn’t seem to pay any mind to the mess you’re both lying in — as long as he stays inside you, he cares not what happens to the couch, it shouldn’t be that bad. his breathing is shallow as he peppers soft kisses over your neck and shoulders before moving up your nape to nuzzle your hair.

his arms encircle your waist, pulling you close, his chest against your back. your head is dizzy, and the room seems to have gone dark as your lids drop down.

“hey, sleepyhead. are you okay?” veritas mutters when you shift slightly beneath him.

you hum quietly, too spent to talk yet, and wrap your hands around his wrists to stop him from sliding them any further than they already have. he presses a soft kiss into your temple and turns your head sideways.

his fingertips brush along the line of your neck before settling against your skin, rubbing tiny circles. you take a few breaths before lifting your lashes to find yourself staring straight at veritas’ face — he is watching you all the same with soft eyes and hot flush on his cheeks.

“did i hurt you?” he whispers, concern showing clearly in his voice.

you shake your head gently. he doesn’t let you speak yet, his pads continuing their path downwards along your spine until he stops with one palm against your lower back, soothing the quivering muscles.

“it was intense for you,” he states rather than asking.

a shiver runs through your body. veritas gives you a warm smile and slowly eases himself from your battered cunt, a squelch following the action and making you both laugh softly.

“how do you feel? better now?” you ask once your thoughts become clear again, looking at him as he props himself up to clean the mess, again.

“a lot, actually.” he responds. he gets a bit flustered when your gaze stays fixed on him. “and i apologise for my rough behaviour. you know i wouldn’t dare to—”

“i enjoyed it. a lot, too,” you interrupt him mid-sentence, though with your weak voice it was more of his mercy to pause to let you talk.

“really?” he looks surprised, incredulous.

“i always have… enjoyed everything you have done to me,” you tell him in all honesty and sigh softly, your eyes flickering up and meeting his as your body sluggishly turns to the side. “you’re just very considerate in bed. the opposite of selfish. you put me first every time, and that makes me happy,” you smile through tired expression.

veritas purses his lips. instead of answering immediately to your unexpected confession — that made him quite flustered, which he wouldn’t like to admit — he focuses on wiping you clean from the slick mix of essences leaking out of you and running down your legs, while humming thoughtfully.

you bite your lip, staying silent. your hand finds its place on his thigh, resting there in a calming manner, his leg trembling under your touch.

when he speaks again, it is nothing more than a whisper.

“i am pleased to hear that you’ve noticed,” he says with a total composure laced in his words, his fingers holding a bunch of tissues between the two of you.

you hum contently, taking his free hand into yours and raising it to your lips, planting soft, little kisses on the back of his palm, trailing his knuckles and then the sides of his wrist.

you can tell he is stunned, but doesn’t seem to mind, or show any sign of displeasure. he returns to his original task after a second, carefully cleaning you before standing up and fixing his pants, placing a loving kiss on your cheek and excusing himself to make some tea for you to drink, since it will soon be dinnertime.

he goes back into the kitchen while you lie undressed on his couch, your heartbeat finally starting to calm down. through the high of satisfation and tiredness, you notice the details on the rug, small indents in the threads where the coffee table was placed before. and the golden embossing slightly worn from the covers of the books he’s reading, probably from the touch of his pads.

you like this place, it feels like your home too.

ৎ୭ ₊ ˙ ⊹ . author’s note ノ if i missed any mistakes, i will cry, editing this took years off my life. BUT i really hope it was sweet and worth reading <3 i personally think this is my new favourite fic of mine, i got too emotional writing and fixing it :’) but i love this man so so much — so it was worth it!

#writing ノ #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail smut #star rail x reader #star rail smut #dr. ratio x reader #dr. ratio smut

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hee0soo · 9 months

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Always

Request: Yes please, if you can maybe make a behind the scenes after bangchan got angry at the staff during a vlive , there is a video of it, I've been wondering what it would be like after the vlive and who would calm him down ? by @sclassstay

Disclaimer: this fic is written and copyrighted by ©hee0soo on tumblr. do not rewrite or repost on any other plattforms without my permission.

You knew that something was wrong as soon as the door to the green room opened and Chan came walking in, the members following him like little ducklings following their mother.

They were silent for once, which made the alarm bells inside your mind go off, blaring at you loudly. The fact that none of them dared saying much more than a few hushed greetings in your direction was heavily alarming!

It just wasn´t normal! Stray Kids wasn´t known as one of the most chaotic groups for nothing! There was a reason for that such as appearing on other groups live streams without actually appearing in it or the staff jokingly saying that it was like a kindergarten most of the time when they were together!

And the fact that Chan, the patience in person might you add, looked like he was ready to punch whoever entered the green room next, had you raising your eyebrow at the leader.

Chan removed the chain the stylists had put around his neck quickly, throwing it on the table with a little too much force than necessary, staying dead silent when as he sat down on one of the couches prepared for them.

Face strained, mouth set in a hard line and lips pressed tightly together, his eyes were glaring at something only he could see while his fingers were fidgeting around in annoyance.

You turned to Felix, questioning him silently about what had set this off. As far as you knew, he went out of the room joking around with the others. A stark contrast to the now seething posture he held!

The younger Aussie looked back at his leader, carefully studying his expression before turning back to you, whispering quietly.

“Staff was really unorganized today, repositioning everything and everyone while the Live was already running and all… At one point they asked Hyunjin-ah to plug I one of the monitors but he didn´t know how and instead of helping they just left him fumbling. Hyung was really pissed at them…”

You nodded slightly, glad for the little updated from the deep voiced dancer!

“Seems to me like he´s still mad,”

Felix hummed at your words, sitting down in one of the chairs and grabbed his water bottle from the table in front of him.

“Hmm, you´re right but talking to Hyung now could be fatal for us.”

The innuendo in is words had not gone over your head and your head back to look at your boyfriend.

Deciding how you wanted to do this, you got out of your chair, put your phone which you were still holding onto from before, in your back pocket and went over to your boyfriend.

The leader acknowledged your presence with a small glance but ultimately went back to glaring at the wall. He had started to fumble with the bracelet Felix had gifted him a few months ago to distract himself, not wanting to accidently snap at you.

“I´m fine,” he grumbled, chewing on the inside of his cheek, lips pursed.

“I believe you. Doesn´t mean I’m not worried about you…”

Keeping your voice gentle, you grabbed the hand that was playing with the bracelet, drawing small patterns on the exposed skin of his arm.

Chan’s face melted just the tiniest bit at the soothing touch and turned his head to face you.

“No need for that but thank you,”

Humming once more, you brushed a stray strand of hair out of his face, admiring him for a moment but never stopping the ministrations of your finger.

“I always worry about you baby. Comes with being in love with you.”

Closing his eyes, the corner of his mouth twitched a little. Chan didn´t know how but he could feel his anger start to dissipate the longer he looked at you.

“Don´t start acting cute with me!”

“Why? Because you know it´s working?” not being able to hide the smile on your lips, you quickly pressed a kiss to his cheek, making his face and ears turn red.

“Who said it´s working huh?”

At that, Minho, who had obviously listened to what was being said on your end of the couch, snorted loudly.

“Oh please Hyung! y/n barely sits down and you go all soft just because they are next to you! It IS working!”

The leader grabbed the cushion next to him with his free hand and threw it at his eldest kid with scarily accuracy.

“Oh don´t be like that, it just means you looove me!”

“Hmm sometimes…” he shrugged, amusement replacing the last bit of annoyance.

“YAH Christopher!” you screeched, pinching his side.

“I´M SORRY, I’m sorry! Of course I love you!”

“Ya better!”

Sulking, you turned away but Chan had other plans. Grabbing you around the waist, the leader pulled you on top of his lap, giving him the chance to wrap his arms entirely around you.

You could feel him nuzzling his face in your neck, breath fanning over your skin ever so slightly, causing you to shudder.

“I mean it you know…” he whispered into your ear and you smiled.

Of course you knew that, but it was still nice to hear it.

“And thank you, for always being by my side.”

Another kiss was pressed your skin. Turning your head to see him better, you put your lips on his before pulling away again. It was short and chaste but none the less carrying everything you wanted to tell him but didn´t have the words for so you whispered a simple but loving, “Always!”

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spacingstars · 30 days

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Sometimes, I find myself breaking down Kix’s character, turning over his traits, his patterns and behaviors… and more and more I find the personality construed by fandom for Kix to be so wildly jarring from what we do have of Kix.

Kix has, roughly, 17 minutes of screen time across the entirety of TCW, which, when compared to the likes of Fives and Rex, who clock much more screen time than most other clones, this doesn’t seem like a lot—but when you factor in most clones' screen time, we get a lot of Kix, and there’s a lot you can learn about him if you pay attention to the moments he does have on screen.

And to illustrate my point, and because I genuinely love Kix, I’m taking it upon myself to examine what we do have of Kix—both for my own purposes, creatively, and because I also happen to enjoy being neurotically intense about my favorite characters.

From “The Deserter” (S02:10) which is also Kix’s debut episode:

1. Kix speaks with a softer and gentler affliction in his voice compared to other clones (as seen with Jesse, who debuts alongside Kix and contrasts him in being more assertive.) I generally extrapolate this to be reflective of a softness that underscores Kix’s mannerisms. 2. When confronted by Suu, Kix doesn’t react with aggression of defensiveness (even if he’s also escorting an injured Rex and has a rifle pointed at him,) instead he opts to gently, and slowly, explain the situation, (in fact, Suu cuts him off and it is Jesse who has to explain, Jesse, who speaks quickly and in a more assertive manner than Kix did.) Kix’s tone is also likely influenced by caution. 3. The most notable scene in this episode that Kix appears in is when he’s tending to an injured Rex—I say notable because I think it informs much of how Kix treats his patients, even when they’re being uncooperative. Because in this scene, Kix is nothing but gentle an caring towards Rex, even when Rex tries to order Kix into letting him back into the fight despite the nerve damage he’s taken from the shot to his chest. When he pulls rank on Rex it is done so firmly, but kindly, and his face is one of sheepishness. If this scene shows anything, it’s that Kix is patient.

From Kix’s debut episode, what can be described about his character is that he’s much more reserved and gentle in comparison to the much more assertive personality of Jesse—from his mannerisms to the tone of his voice. He will be firm, but he is not unkind. He also shows patience towards his patient, even when said patient is, initially, being uncooperative.

From Umbara (S04:07 - S04:10) which is when Kix gets the most screen time:

1. The first moment of note Kix appears in is when he raises concerns to Rex about the pace Krell has had them marching at, that this pace is taking its toll on the men and they need to rest. Kix raises these concerns respectfully, secondly, Kix is doing his duty as a medic, which, is fundamental to his character, finally, Kix cares about those around him and he does what he can to ensure the welfare of these men. (And also, I think it’s quite telling that Kix doesn’t press the issue after Krell scolds them for it, as noted before, Kix does not have an assertive personality.) 2. When Kix is taking care of an injured clone he’s dragged into cover Kix retains his professionalism and keeps himself together even under stress. Kix comforts his patient instead, and I think it speaks of that gentleness I keep mentioning that Kix says, “You’re gonna be okay, buddy, this’ll ease the pain.” Kix is comforting, and he holds himself together under stress because he has his brothers to take care of. 3. I think it’s also notable that when Torrent is starting to express their distrust in Krell, though you can tell Kix is beginning to get frustrated with the treatment of the men (expressing that with Krell’s plan, casualties will be high,) his comments are not nearly has harsh as those of Tup or Jesse. Once again, Kix is shown to be more reserved, and I see it as him maintaining his professionalism in raising these concerns, even as he is beginning to grow frustrated with this poor treatment. 4. The note of Kix beginning to grow frustrated with the treatment of his brothers will be expanded upon throughout the Umbara arc; especially in light of Kix taking his frustration and horror out on the wildlife of Umbara for feeding on the corpses of his brothers. If I am to extrapolate, those dead clones serve as a reminder to Kix; a remainder that he, more and more, has been unable to properly care for all his injured brothers. These clones are a reminder to Kix of the brothers he could not save. This is the first crack within Kix, due to the stress of Umbara, and I have to emphasis, this is not Kix’s normal pattern of behavior. 5. Continuing the thread of Kix beginning to crack under the pressures of Umbara, there is a moment in Umbara where Kix is tending to an injured clone—one that’s in his arms, and this clone gets shot to death in Kix’s arms. This is directly Kix being unable to save a clone’s life despite being right there, because Umbara is that overwhelming—to such a degree that he’s forced to leave behind the injured in this moment, even if he can save them. And this is another crack in Kix’s composure, because he snaps at Rex, he drops his professionalism and his respect, and even resorts to barbed comments against Rex for ordering him from tending to the injured because Torrent needs Kix alive. This is not Kix’s normal behavior, this is Kix, stressed and crumbling under the weight of Umbara. 6. The last notable scene Kix appears in, and this is the moment where Kix finally breaks under Umbara’s pressure—it’s the moment where he starts haphazardly firing his blaster at the enemy. This is intended to be shocking—because this is not how Kix nominally acts, he’s in immense distress, and it takes Tup pulling him into cover to get him to calm down. Kix holds his composure for so long, and when he does break, he breaks hard. 7. To cap off the Umbara thoughts, though Kix does have more scenes, he is relegated to a background character for the most part—but, I can only imagine what was going through Kix’s head when he had, under the orders of Krell, fired upon other clones, it is completely counter to who he is, both as a person and as a medic, and I imagine it cuts deep—as it did for all clones involved in that moment, but for Kix… some of that hurt I imagine would be coming from how he’s meant to save his brothers lives, he’s the medic… and yet, in that moment, all he did was take theirs.

Umbara shows that Kix—who has been shown to be a respectful, kind, and helpful clone who just earnestly wants to do his duty in providing his brothers with the care he needs—is broken by an inability to help.

From the Chip arc (S06:01 - S06:04):

1. Not much to be said about some of Kix’s first appearances in this arc, as Kix is doing what he does as a medic (and expressing concern for Tup.) But the scene where Tup is in the infirmary, and Kix is confused about what’s wrong with Tup, I do think that Kix being willing to say that he can’t figure out what’s wrong, and that if they want answers, he’ll need to be sent back to Kamino, is indicative of Kix is aware of the limitations in his knowledge and is willing to humble himself. 2. This is more light-hearted scene (at first, anyway,) and is mostly conjecture on my part but I find it too amusing to leave out. That is the scene in which Kix is checking himself out in the mirror at 79’s. I do not think this is indicative of Kix being conceited about his looks—rather, I think it’s indicative of something else entirely in light of how he also talks in this scene. When he realizes someone else walks in, he talks with a deeper tone that I can only describe as Kix trying to present himself as being cool and mysterious. All the while he’s nonchalantly brushing his shoulders off. It’s so funny to me, especially when he realizes it’s Fives who just walked in, and immediately he tone switches to his typical inflection—and his mannerisms return to the typical ones we’ve seen of him. (Yes, I also think Kix had the haircut he does because he tries to present himself as cooler than he actually is, I imagine he grew embarrassed by this insistence given he grows it out later on—Kix is a dork, I said what I said.) 3. And yes, Kix immediately jumping to concern, before offering his help to Fives—even if his duty would insist that he turn Fives in because of the attempted assassination—I think, this is because Kix fixates on Fives’ distress, and he focuses on how to alleviate that stress, so even as it’s clear he’s confused by what Fives has gotten himself into, Kix still offers his help, and gives it freely in getting Fives in direct contact with Anakin and Rex at his behest. It’s a strong moment for his character, and his face when he asks what he can do to help… it’s so earnest. He’s loyal to his brothers.

And finally, there is the Echo arc of season 7, (S07:01 - S07:04):

1. When their gunship gets shot down, Kix is the first to notice that Cody was injured in the wreck and is trapped; I put this down to Kix being attentive and keeping track of the head count of the party he’s with, something done because he is the team medic and he is responsible for the well being of those around him first and foremost. 2. Then there is the scene at the campfire, which, firstly shows the bond Jesse and Kix have given the ease of banter between them and the comfort between them in their interactions. Secondly, I find it interesting how when Wrecker strangles Jesse, while Rex resorts to more direct action (trying to pull Wrecker by his collar,) Kix kind of just hovers, it’s a pretty… non-violent action when Rex and Jesse both jump to the defensive with the batch (Rex, even more directly, later on, when he actually punches Crosshair.) Similarly, even when Crosshair shoves Kix away, Kix shoves back before getting stuck in a headlock, and even after getting out of the headlock, at most he puts his hands on Crosshair to keep shoving him away. Generally, Kix is a lot less confrontational compared to either Jesse and Rex are in regards to the batch—which, circles around to my point of Kix not being as assertive, neither will he be overly aggressive towards allies. (This may be extrapolated as Kix refusing to take more direction action against another clone, given Umbara. But, that’s just extrapolation; a theory, a musing on motives.) 3. (Also yes I am aware that Kix makes jabs about the batch and I mostly construe this to be that Kix can be judgmental about others when he’s skeptical of them, I have my reasons as to why I’m not putting a lot of weight on this but it’s tied to a critique of the arc’s writing, which is not what this is about.)

In summation, Kix is shown, repeatedly, to be someone whose kind and helpful—what matters most to him is the care and well being of his brothers. He’s earnest in that care, and he’s got a softness that underscores a lot of his mannerisms and speech. He does his best to hold himself together for the sake of his brothers. He gets frustrated and breaks down in the face of mounting casualties and an inability to help his brothers. He’s respectful and professional in how he conducts himself as a medic, and even if he pulls rank, he’s firm but kind about it—he expresses patience in how he handles those under his care. Additionally, and in my own conjecture of his character, Kix tries to present himself as cooler than he actually is, suggesting a level of dorky insecurity to him. He’s also shown to lash out and make barbed comments when he’s incredibly stressed, and Kix carries judgment towards others when he’s skeptical of them.

What Kix is not is a hard ass medic whose sick of everyone’s shit, who berates and scolds his patients relentlessly—complaining about how they make his job harder. He is not quick to anger nor does he easily take his frustrations out on those around him—especially those under his care. He does not constantly throw his rank around to get those under his care to do what he wants.

It is a far cry from Kix’s character, and I think it’s a damn shame Kix’s actual character gets ignored in favor in fanon, because honestly, Kix as he is in canon is incredibly interesting—carrying a host of traits that can be explored and examined in their own right.

(Also, in quick references, I’ve narrowed down two videos that compiled Kix’s screen time across TCW, this one which clocks at ~14 minutes, and the second one with clocks in at ~17 minutes.)

#help I'm star wars posting #Clone Medic Kix #Star Wars #Fandom Stuff #Long Post #Space's Fandom Stuff #do I need a meta tag now #Space's Chatter #<- edit: I have a meta tag now lol #technically?#Fandom Salt #Fandom Nonsense

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toomuchracket · 8 days

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drunk in love (d word matty x reader smut)

d word smut hiatus over, everyone cheer! inspired by a fun anon i got, takes place immediately after this blurb from last year. enjoy <3

matty's skin is warm under your lips, the salt from the ocean you both swam in earlier still lingering faintly. it's a nice contrast to the sweetness of the champagne you're currently sharing, entwined on a blanket on a deserted malibu beach, watching the setting sun.

once you're done kissing all over your boyfriend's palm, you continue your trail up his middle and index fingers, cheekily taking them into your mouth with a wink. matty giggles, champagne escaping the corner of his lip and dripping down his lightly-stubbled chin; quick as a flash, you stop sucking his fingers in favour of catching the liquid on his face with your tongue, savouring the heady taste of it and him before attaching your lips to his own. your brain is already fuzzy from the bubbles in the drink, and matty's lips and tongue certainly don't help it - when he finally pulls away to breathe, slowly releasing your bottom lip from between his teeth and grinning, you're actually woozy.

he brushes a thumb over your cheek, glowing in the golden hour light. “hi, baby. i love you.”

“i love you,” you beam. the words still feel unfamiliar on your tongue, but getting to say them rather than think them makes you glow as much on the inside as matty is in the evening sunlight. “and i love telling you that i love you.”

“me too,” matty kisses your forehead, then your nose, then all over your face, drawing giggles from your throat; with a chuckle of his own, he pulls you into his chest for a cuddle. “fuck, i love you so much. my sweet girl.”

there's no doubt in your mind that he means it. in fact, there's nothing in your mind except thoughts of matty, how much you love him, and how you wish you could stay in this moment forever, bottle the feelings and the atmosphere and cork it like the champagne in your hand.

you think it might be twice as potent as the alcohol, though. but maybe that's just him.

still holding you, matty moves to lie on his back; he twirls your sun-dried hair around his fingers while you shuffle on top of him to get comfy, smiling warmly when you look up at him. he’s so beautiful that it breaks your heart, all happy-tired and messy-haired and soft worn-out band tee, but the total adoration for you in those pretty eyes is enough to mend it again.

with a kiss to his chest, right where his tattoo is, you sit up, stretching as you take a swig of the champagne set into a little well of sand beside you. matty sighs, moving his hands behind his head and continuing to look at you lovingly. “you're gorgeous, you know that, yeah?”

your cheeks burn as you shake your head. “you're drunk, baby.”

“well, maybe a little bit. but you're still gorgeous,” he runs his hands down your bare thighs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. “i always think that. even when i'm asleep.”

“you dream about me?”

“yeah. a lot.”

“nightmares?”

“no, for fuck's sake,” matty huffs out a laugh, flicking you on the thigh while you giggle. “always good dreams, when you're involved.”

“that's cute, babe,” you trace a little heart on the strip of bare skin visible where matty's t-shirt rides up. “what about sexy ones?”

matty smirks, nodding slowly. “oh yeah,” you have no idea if he means to or not, but he slides his hands across the tops of your thighs, pads of his calloused fingers tracing patterns into the silky skin on the inside of your upper legs; it makes you shiver, in the most delicious way. “those dreams are my favourite.”

“really?” you beam, flirtily biting your lip. “what are we doing in them, my love?”

matty watches as you take another drink from the champagne bottle, his pupils dilating yet never breaking from your own. “well, sweetheart, a lot of the time… you're doing something quite like that.”

“oh?” you blink faux-innocently, flicking your tongue over the opening of the bottle. “like this… daddy?”

your boyfriend groans, shuffling beneath you to try and alleviate the obviously-growing hardness in his shorts. still, he doesn't break eye contact with you, even when you slide your lips as far down the glass neck of the bottle as you can. “jesus christ, princess,” he whines, watching you pull off the bottle and tip some more of its contents into your mouth. “c'mere. wanna kiss you.”

mouth still half-full of champagne, you lean down and let your lips be manipulated by matty's. he moans softly when the alcohol falls into his mouth, drawing satisfied noises from your own throat as he licks practically all traces of it from you - these noises only increase in volume and quantity when his hands slide down to grab at your bikini-clad ass, rocking you back and forth across the hardness below you. it's heavenly, actually, being like this with the man you love in a place like this, just the two of you and the day's last warmth of the sun and the soft crashing of the sea behind you. your head is cloudy, from both bottle and boyfriend, but the desire in your stomach is as sharp as it's ever been.

you need to get matty off. now.

pulling back from his lips just enough to talk, you take a deep breath. “daddy,” your voice is soft, eyes wide and adoring and trained right on matty's, just the way you know fucks him up to an insane degree. “please can i suck you off?”

“shit,” comes the shaky reply, your boyfriend's soft lips meeting your own once again before he talks. “right now, sweet girl? princess wants to make daddy feel good, right out on the beach like this?”

you nod, an involuntary rush of pleasure pooling in your bikini. “mhmm.”

“come on, princess, you can do better than that,” matty runs his thumb over your lips, pulling them apart. “be a good girl and use your words, yeah?”

“mkay,” you smile sweetly at him. “wanna make you feel so good, daddy,” you kiss down over his jaw and up his neck, savouring the little moans he can't hold back before you talk again - well, whisper directly in his ear. “wanna show you how much i love you.”

the noise matty makes in response to that is almost enough to make you cum. he gently guides your head so he can look at you properly, kissing you surprisingly sweetly given the circumstances. “love you, my perfect girl,” he murmurs against your lips. “go on, then, do whatever you want to me. m'all yours. always.”

you hum happily. “all mine.”

matty nods, forehead resting against your own, voice barely a whisper. “yours,” he gently taps your cheek. “let me get ready for you, darling, yeah?”

“alright,” with a final kiss to his nose, you climb off matty's lap, watching as he moves to sit back on his knees and then settling onto your stomach in front of him. this position was an accidental discovery, borne out of you being too eager to get your mouth on him to let him move to lie down, and it's now a mutual favourite; you can watch each other, it's quite comfy for both of you, and - most crucially - it's incredibly easy for matty to fuck your mouth if he wants to.

you hope he does, today. but you'll have to put some work in first for that to happen, so you gently tug down his shorts just enough to free his cock, enjoying the little whine from the man above you when you take it in your hand. eyes locking onto matty's, you let a line of spit drip from your lips onto the head of his dick, smiling at the way he breathes shakily when you slowly pump him. “will you hold my hair back for me, please?”

“of course,” matty does as you ask, swearing under his breath when you press a kiss to the tip as a thank you, wrapping your lips around and flicking your tongue over it just as you did with the champagne. “beautiful girl, so fucking pretty with my dick in your mouth. use it on me, princess, that's my good girl.”

and who would you be to deny him?

you start slow, shallow, savouring the salt of him on your tongue; it cuts through the lingering sweetness of the champagne in the most delectable way, and soon enough you're speeding up your movements, inching further and further down your boyfriend's dick with every movement of your head. and even if you weren't completely obsessed with the way he tastes, the way he feels… the noises he's making, those gorgeous whimpers and groans and whines of your name, they would be enough to spur you on.

the noises turn to proper dirty talk after one particular movement; when he hits the back of your throat, you can't help but gag slightly, and the feeling of it seems to drive matty insane. “christ, princess, love it when you take all of me in that pretty mouth. so good for me, taking me so fucking well.”

you hum happily around him, pulling off quickly to breathe and beam at matty before ducking back down and taking him fully, again. squeezing your thumb in your fist with one hand, you use the other to flatten matty's hand on the back of your head; he understands immediately, gently pressing you down to keep your lips at the base of his cock and his length in your throat. you gag again, despite your thumb trick, but you don't make any attempt to move - you love being like this, mostly because you know matty loves it. he looks down at you, pretty eyes hazy with desire, smiling lazily as your teary gaze meets his own. “fucking hell, princess, look at you,” he coos. “pretty little - breathe, baby, that's it - pretty little slut for me, aren't you? sucking daddy's dick on the beach, where anyone could see, dirty girl. fucking love it,” his face softens, and he softly wipes the tears from your eyes with his free hand. “fucking love you.”

your heart glows, and you pull your mouth off your boyfriend, gasping for breath but still continuing to stroke him as you refill your airways. pressing a kiss to his hip tattoo, you grin up at him. “love you so much. and i need you to fuck my mouth almost equally as much, daddy. please?”

“god, you're so fucking cute. my needy girl,” matty laughs, massaging your scalp. “and to think you were quite innocent when i met you - had never had good sex, and now you're begging me to fuck your face in public. mental.”

you roll your eyes, cheeks burning - not so much out of shame for what you're doing, but more out of embarrassment for how clueless about sex you were when you met him. “yeah, yeah. but you fucking love it, don't you?”

“i do. i love everything you do,” matty boops your nose, smiling. “being in love with someone tends to make you feel like that, though.”

“yeah, it does, doesn't it?” you kiss the head of his dick again, smiling at the way he giggles. “and you know what i love you doing to me, yeah?”

“point taken, princess,” matty weaves his hands into your hair. “you know the drill - three taps if it gets too much, alright? and please remember to breathe, my love. no dick is worth dying for, even mine.”

you sigh. “you're an idiot. i can't believe i'm in love with you,” readjusting yourself on the blanket, you smile up at your boyfriend. “ready?”

“yeah. you?”

blinking coquettishly, you nod. “yes, daddy.”

“good girl.”

matty's eyes don't leave yours for a second as he slowly thrusts into your mouth. he's beautiful like this, you somehow manage to think despite your pleasure-addled brain, jaw slack and pouty lips parted and chest heaving, looking at you like he wants to eat you alive; that last bit changes when he’s fully down your throat, though, eyelids fluttering shut as he tentatively begins to fuck into you. “oh, baby,” he practically whimpers, hips speeding up a little - involuntarily, you think. regardless, you moan, and the vibrations egg him on even more. “i'm not going to last long, princess. you're too - jesus - too fucking good at this. made for it, yeah? made for me, for gagging on my dick like the slut only i know you are. talk to me, angel. tell me who you belong to.”

christ. you're fucking soaked.

you move to pull away so you can talk, but matty harshly pushes your head back down; another bolt of pleasure gushes into your bikini bottoms as he does. “i didn't tell you to stop doing that, princess,” he murmurs. “are you so cockdrunk that you can't multitask anymore? aww, baby.”

“no,” you whine, the sound barely inaudible with your mouth already so preoccupied. “m'sorry.”

“then i'll ask again,” a sharp tug on your hair makes you look up at your boyfriend - imminently close to orgasm, you recognise. “who do you belong to?”

you do your best to reply as clearly as possible. “i belong to you, daddy.”

matty smiles. “fuck yeah you do, princess,” his hips stutter, as do his moans, signalling what you already knew - he's about to cum. “and whose is daddy?”

fuck, you love him so much. “mine.”

and that's what does it for matty - with a groan of your name, he cums down your throat, holding your head in place until he's totally finished thrusting through the climax. you slide off him carefully, keeping your mouth open and the white liquid on your tongue to show him before you swallow; matty swears as you do, swigging more of the champagne before pulling you up to kiss him, letting the sweet and the salt mingle between the two of you as he wraps his arms around your waist. your head is spinning, a mixture of breathlessness and tiredness and drunkenness and matty, but you know you'll be alright in his arms. safest place in the world, you think.

he kisses your nose when he pulls back. “thank you, my darling. that was… yeah, that was incredible. you were incredible, perfect girl.”

shrugging, you snuggle into his chest. “i just like making you feel good, angel.”

“you're really fucking good at it,” matty giggles, sliding his hands under the hem of your t-shirt and kissing your temple. “will you let me return the favour, sweetheart?”

“can i cash it in a bit later tonight, baby?” you look up at him a bit shyly. “might sound, like, cliché or cringe or whatever, but i kind of just want to watch this sunset with you right now. if you want to, that is. we can do something else if you think it'll be boring.”

matty looks at you so tenderly you think you might cry, an eye-crinkling smile spreading across his face. “i don't think i could ever find anything boring if i was with you,” he kisses you, chastely, but the love is obvious in his lips. “come on, let's cuddle.”

and you do, until the stars appear in the inky-blue sky, and you and matty have drank all the ones stored in the bottle - which, incidentally, you make matty carry you back to the beach for, after you both decide to go indoors, tipsily saying “we can't litter, baby. what if a sea creature gets stuck in it?” and almost toppling the two of you when you reach to pick it up.

he puts you down quite reluctantly on the decking next to the kitchen door, grumbling while you put the empty bottle in the waste bucket. “hate not holding you.”

“awwwwww, baby. s'just for a second, though,” you - with some difficulty, admittedly - gently turn on the hose hanging on the side of the house. “okay - ooh, it's warm,” giggling, you hand the hose to your boyfriend. “right. get me wet, babe.”

matty smirks. “done that already, i reckon.”

“nooooooooo, not like that,” you sigh. “i mean get the sand off my legs. can't go in all messy. s'not our house.”

“could be,” matty says, absentmindedly waving the stream of water at your calves.

“hmm?”

“i could buy it. we could live here,” he smirks as another thought comes into his head. “you could just wear those sexy little bikinis all the time. i'd love that,” his smirk fades into a dazed smile as he daydreams. the hose almost slips from his grasp, and the stream of water goes up too high and soaks your t-shirt as he fumbles to catch it. “oh, fuck.”

you shriek, the water sobering you up. “matthew!”

“sorry, darli- actually, no i'm not,” the smirk returns as your boyfriend takes in the white t-shirt now clinging to you like a second skin. “i am not sorry at all, fucking hell.”

“god, you're such a boy. give me that,” you frown, turning the hose on matty and rinsing the sand from his legs in seconds. “there. easy peasy.”

“you're not going to get me all wet? you know i love it when you do that.”

despite your annoyance, you grin. “take me inside and i might.”

“no need to tell me twice, darling,” matty scoops you up, bridal-style, and carries you through the french doors into the kitchen. with a kiss to your nose, he sets you down on the counter beside the sink, leaving you to flick the cabinet lights on while he closes and locks - with a little bit of difficulty, given his tipsiness - the door, before returning to you for another sloppy kiss. he tastes like champagne, even sweeter than usual, and you're mildly upset by the loss of it when he pulls back and raises your arms for you. “need to get this wet top off you, sweetheart. can't have my love getting a cold, now, can i?”

you giggle, letting him pull the t-shirt over your head and drop it into the sink. “take yours off, too? not that you're as at risk as i am, obv. i just think you're fit.”

he laughs, obliging you. “i love you.”

“love you,” biting your lip, you lightly drag your nails down matty's chest, hooking them in the waistband of his shorts and looking up at him as seductively as you can. “would it be possible for me to cash in that favour from earlier, baby?”

“i like the sound of that,” matty kisses you deeply, hands finding their way home to your tits and squeezing gently. “wanna go down on you first, though, if you'll have me.”

“yeah,” you whisper into him. “how do you want me, daddy?”

he smiles against you. “i want to bend you over this fucking counter, princess. how's that sound?”

shit. your bikini’s practically soaked through. “sounds so fucking good. thank you.”

“my sweet, filthy girl,” matty coos, kissing you. he gently lifts you off the counter and sets you down on the floor, stepping back slightly. “alright, you know what to do.”

with a quick final kiss and a whispered “i love you”, which is eagerly reciprocated, you turn away from matty and bend over the counter. the surface is cold under your bare chest, and your entire body trembles slightly; matty groans quietly at that, a sure sign his eyes are glued to your ass. without warning, he brings his hand down on it sharply, eliciting a moan from your lips and a matching “fuck” from his. “god, princess,” he murmurs, rubbing the now-sore spot on your ass. “you're so fucking hot. gonna make you feel so good, baby, alright?”

“mhmm,” you whimper, wiggling your ass in total desperation. “please, please, daddy.”

“relax, my girl,” there's the sound of movement, and you whimper when you feel his breath on your core. “let daddy take care of you.”

you've barely whined out an agreement before matty's tongue is on your clit, flicking over the bundle of nerves before licking a flat stripe up your cunt. you gasp at the feeling, a gasp that quickly turns to a moan when you feel him dip his tongue into you, groaning at the taste he's often told you is his favourite thing in the world; you never really believe him, but the enthusiasm with which he's utterly devouring you right now hints that he might not actually be exaggerating. his hands are warm, firmly gripping your ass to keep you exactly where he wants you while he makes out - there's really no other word to describe it - with your cunt. you're not sure whether it's drunkenness or tiredness or something else, but matty's sloppier than usual with his mouth, his usual precise (deadly) tongue flicks replaced with messy licks and sucks and grazes with his teeth.

it's not like you'll complain, though; he's still making you feel good, drawing half-screamed whines out of you every two seconds, and you can feel how desperate he is for you to cum, all over his face. and isn't that just the hottest thing of all?

you find it so hot, actually, that you give your boyfriend what he wants in an almost embarrassingly short amount of time. after what seems to be an attempt by matty to bury his entire tongue inside you, your body begins to shake, nerves sending bursts of electric pleasure into the pit of your stomach and lifting your heels off the ground slightly; matty smacks your ass again, a warning for you to keep still so he can finish you off properly, and you whimper. “need to cum, daddy, please, please. so fucking close, so so fucking close. can i?”

matty doesn't answer, but his mouth continues its efforts - your grasp on reality isn't too great at the minute, but you're pretty sure he gets even wilder, even more enthusiastic, licking up past your cunt and frantically sucking your clit in his determination to get you off. and he fucking loves it; in the end, it's the vibrations from him moaning into you that actually tip you over the edge, kinetic energy coursing back through your nervous system as you cry out. “yeah, yeah, daddy, m'cumming. oh, fuck me fuck me fuck me, please, so good, so fucking good.”

amidst your babbling and the orgasm still ebbing from your body, you're vaguely aware of matty pulling away from you, one hand leaving your ass as he pulls himself to stand - that changes about a second later, though, when he slides into you without warning and just thrusts. you smile breathlessly, cheek smushed into the counter, sighing contentedly. “oh, thank you.”

“so sweet for me, princess,” matty laughs breathily, his tender tone at odds with the roughness he's fucking you with. “i love you.”

“i love you too,” you whine at a particularly good thrust. “oh, fuck, daddy, please don't stop.”

“wouldn't dream of it, my love,” he presses a kiss to your shoulder blade. “you gonna be a good girl and cum for me again?”

“yes.” you aren't lying - already, your limbs are starting to tremble again.

“yes what?” matty fucks harder into you, hips slapping against your own. “who is it that's making you feel so good, princess?”

you gulp, eyes rolling back into your head from the overwhelming pleasure. “yes, daddy. s'you making me feel good, making me cum.”

the smile in your boyfriend's voice is audible. “that's my girl. c'mere, sweetheart,” matty pulls you up so your back is flush against his chest, still fucking you as he turns your head to look over your shoulder. “give daddy a kiss.”

you oblige eagerly, sloppily kissing him and letting his tongue explore your mouth. throughout it all, his hips don't let up, and the pressure in your stomach grows with every further movement. “m'close again,” you whimper into matty, moaning when you feel his hand slide down the front of your body to your clit. “so close.”

“yeah?” you boyfriend coos against your lips. “want me to make you cum, sweet girl?”

the pleasure is blinding, your vision literally blurring as you reach breaking point. “please, daddy.”

matty smiles, fingers frantic between your thighs. “go on then.”

his lips attach themselves to your neck as you tip your head back onto his shoulder, orgasm hitting you like a freight train for the second time in minutes. you wail a garbled mixture of your boyfriend's name and the nickname only you call him, throwing an arm back around his neck to keep him close while he fucks you as best he can through your climax, given that you're clenching so tightly around his dick.

once the aftershocks subside, you flop forward; matty stops you from clattering against the counter by wrapping an arm around your stomach and lowering you gently, hips faltering as he chases his own release. “shhh, baby, i know,” he murmurs, hand returning home to your hip and softly rubbing patterns into the skin. “so good, so perfect for daddy, princess. want me to fill you up?”

turning your face on the cold wood, you smile at him, completely fucked out - he doesn't look any better, you note, sweaty and tired and red and maybe the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. “mhmm,” you nod slowly. “love you.”

“i love you, so much - oh, fuck, sweetheart,” matty spills inside you with a groan, resting his forehead against your back as he slows to a stop. you can feel him smiling into you. “christ, i'm fucking knackered - well, actually,” pulling out of you with a hiss and a hushed “sorry, baby”, matty turns and lifts you to sit on the counter, angling your hips just so to avoid creating more of a mess. “reckon i'm awake enough to clean you up before bed, if you like.”

you card your fingers through his hair. “you really do so much for me. s'amazing.”

he shrugs. “what can i say? i love you.”

smiling, you pull him in for a hug. “i love you too. come on, let's go and clean up.”

#mads muses #mads does writing #d word matty #matty healy fic #matty healy smut #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fanfiction #matty x reader #matty healy x reader

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xhopelessheartx · 1 year

Text

Revenge Blanket Grid Pattern

This is a grid pattern and some notes from me, but I will not be teaching you how to do any of it as such. This grid can be used in crochet or knitting, but I have only provided instructions for crochet.

To complete this project you will have to be able to do the following:

Chain stitch

Double Crochet (UK) (US Single)

Turning chain

Make a tension square

Seamless colour change in the middle of a row

Seamless colour change at the beginning/end of a row

Work from a grid pattern

I have made this pattern free but if you do use it I would love it if you would give me a tip on my ko-fi so I can make more patterns in the future! Please also give me a follow and check out my shop :)

I made my blanket using DK weight yarn and a 4mm hook, and used a double crochet stitch throughout. it ended up being roughly 121cm x 121cm.

Make a tension square:

For this grid to look correct when worked you need to have a tension that is creating a perfect square.

This project has the same amount of stitches as it does rows (220 stitches, 220 rows) so a correct tension square for this project will have the same amount of stitches as it does rows, and will measure the same on all sides creating a perfect square. If your tension square is in fact a rectangle, your whole project will be distorted to a rectangle.

For example; with DK yarn and a 4mm hook, I made a square that was 20 stitches wide by 20 rows tall and it measured 11cm on every side. this was how i knew my blanket would end up as a square.

If you know your tension already then this should be pretty easy, but this part is really important so make sure you get it right.

Changing colours:

You will want to be doing a seamless colour change to avoid having weird looking ‘steps’ up and down from each colour. People change colours and deal with multiple stands of yarn in different ways so you will need to find which method is best for you.

Seamless colour change example, the way I do it: Begin with black. Insert hook into the next stitch, yarn over and pull up a loop. You'll have two loops on your hook. Drop the old colour and pick up the new colour, yarn over and pull through both loops to finish the double crochet.

You can carry your yarn through your project in different way rather than cutting and adding new pieces with each colour change -I dropped my yarn behind on the back (wrong side) and picked it up again instead of carrying it through as I found the contrast of the colours made the carried yarn too visible, but you can do this in whatever way you want.

The grid:

I have not provided written instructions for this grid but there are some things to remember:

You will be working with a Right Side (RS) and Wrong Side (WS). The RS is the side where the text reads correctly, from left to right and the image looks correct.

You can work this grid from any side, it doesn't matter, although it makes more sense to start at the bottom and work up. Just remember to keep track of which direction you are going in and where you are. A big thing to remember is when you turn your work at the end of a row you will then be working in the other direction (switching from RS to WS and vice versa).

Because this grid is so large I recommend using stitch markers to break it up into sections that are more manageable, and transferring those markers to your grid so you can better keep track- this will help you to avoid mistakes.

To begin this grid, chain 220. Turn, and make a turning stitch - you are ready to begin the first row of your grid.

(you will probably need to save this image to be able to view it in full quality)

After I finished my grid I added a row of double crochet all the way around and then did a row of granny clusters to give it a nice border but you could add any border you want or none at all! I am also planning on backing mine with some fleece or flannel to make it tidier but this isn’t necessary.

I apologise for this being so haphazard but I do hope you enjoy making it! If you have any questions please shoot me a message on any platform and I’ll do my best to answer!

Again, if you are using this grid here is a link to give me a tip so I can carry on crocheting and making patterns: https://ko-fi.com/xhopelessheartx. Thank you :)

I would also love it if you tagged me on instagram or twitter with your projects!

instagram: x.hopelessheart.x

twitter: caffeinatedeyes

please do not reproduce this grid or claim it as your own, it is for personal use only and is not to be sold

#pattern #crochet #mcr

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sweetlittlegingy · 1 year

Text

Sweet Nothings

☑︎ Next Chapter | Sweet Nothings Masterlist

☑︎ Pairing: Jake Seresin x Y/n Seresin (Mitchell)

☑︎ Word Count: 5.3 k

☑︎ Warnings: Infertility, IVF, Adoption, Dad!Jake, Teacher/Mom!Reader, Kindergarteners, Y/n mom is a bitch

☑︎ A/n: I'm so excited to share this one with you guys, and I hope you love it just as much as I do.

☑︎ Library (Follow for updates! I no longer have a taglist.)

You can’t seem to stop the shake in your leg while you sit on the bed, and as your hands run across the comforter you pick off a stray piece of lent. Your eyes dart back to the bathroom door, and the pregnancy test that sits on the counter waiting. The little pink and white stick is a hard contrast against the marble countertop, and you can’t help but glare at it.

It had been 4 weeks since your last treatment, and while the doctors said you would get a positive or negative test by the second week, you couldn’t help but wait. As if the extra two weeks would make the embryo take and you would finally be pregnant.

You and Jake had been trying to have a baby for, four years. Just after your one-year anniversary, you both decided that you were ready and that having a little one running around was the next step. You had been 26 and Jake was 28, it felt like the perfect time. Jake was doing amazing in his career and has been permanently stationed at Top Gun. While you had just been hired on as the kindergarten teacher at Bay Park Elementary. Everything was falling into place, just like you had both planned.

Though after the first year and a half with no success naturally, your OBGYN suggested IVF. She had told you that due to your irregular ovulation pattern you would have trouble the natural way and that IVF would fix everything. That was two and a half years ago, and you were now on your third treatment. Each of the past two ended in failure, and with the third result waiting in the bathroom, you didn’t know if you really wanted to check.

Jake had gotten up this morning for an early run, while you enjoyed the fact that it was Saturday, and you could sleep in for a little bit. Though the need to pee came only moments after Jake was out of the house and now you couldn’t go back to sleep. In the five-minute time span, you were supposed to wait, you had made the bed, eaten breakfast, and started a load of laundry. The recommended five minutes quickly turned into twenty and now you were silently sitting and staring from afar.

You knew that Jake would be home soon, his run usually took thirty to forty- five minutes depending on which route he took, and you didn’t need him walking in on you. You hadn’t told him that you were going to take a pregnancy test, and he never pushed you to. Jake had been wonderful through the whole ordeal, helping with the medication injects that “boosted” your ovulation and he had never missed an appointment. And yes, while your father might have been in charge of the Dagger Squad, he didn’t give Jake any special treatment… Well, not a lot and Jake always made sure to figure out his days. Plus, it helped that the IVF hospital was on base, at the San Diego Naval Medical Center. Yet another plus of being married into the military, your insurance offers reduced fees for IVF. It was still expensive, but cheap enough that you had been able to save for each treatment.

Though the grim outlook was the fact that usually after your third treatment, doctors suggested looking into other options. That was another reason you were avoiding the test, you didn’t think you could mentally or physically go through another round of IVF, even with added ideas.

The last four years had been a continuous loop of your body failing you and Jake. He never said it, God he would never. Jake treated you amazingly, but the small nagging voice in the back of your head played the words on repeat. You were a failure as a woman.

You glance at your watch once more, 7:32 am, Jake would be back anytime. It was now or never. You reluctantly push yourself from the comfort of your mattress and quite literally drag your feet to the bathroom. The tile floor has a shiver running up your spine and you silently curse the cooling weather.

It’s sitting upside down on the counter and you just stare at it for a moment. Hands twisting in anxiety as you slowly spin your wedding ring around your finger. The white stick sits there taunting you, begging you to look.

“Fuck it.”

Your hand snatches the test and flips it over before you can rethink the decision. Your fingers shake as you lift it, eyes zeroing in on the clear window where two pink little lines are supposed to be. A harsh breath leaves your chest, and you bite on your bottom lip to stop it from quivering. Your hands are working on autopilot, grabbing the test and wrapping it in toilet roll before tossing it in the small garbage can. You couldn’t look at the single line anymore. You had seen the exact same test results more times than you could count in the last four years and didn’t need to stare at it to know the answer.

Once again, your body had failed you.

Your hands gently brush across the side of your legs, before reaching forward to wash your hands. You dry them quickly, before glancing in the mirror and the small tear resting on your cheek has you releasing a harsh laugh. Your eyes fall shut as you suck your teeth in annoyance, before wiping the tear away and taking another deep calming breath. If it could work for your 5-year-olds, it could work for you.

“It’s fine.”

Your grasp the counter and roll back on your heels, then lean forward releasing another harsh breath. It wasn’t like your heart felt like it was breaking, nope defiantly not that feeling. Your hands harshly smack against the granite counter, and the palm of your hand stung. Though the pain is welcomed, anything that would distract from the ever-growing crack in your heart.

You hear the front door open and shut before Jake is calling out to you. You can hear his shoes padding along the hardwood floors, and you hate when another tear falls from you. You didn’t want to do this to Jake again. He never signed up for this, he wasn’t the broken one.

“Baby?”

“Yeah?”

Your voice cracks and you grit your teeth in frustration. You can feel Jake’s gaze through the mirror, though you really don’t feel like looking. Not when you feel like an utter failure. Your nose sniffles slightly and your hands against the counter tighten, turning your knuckles white.

Your eyes raise to look at Jake through the mirror, though before you can look at him you catch sight of your face. Tear stricken and the harsh gasp you were working so hard to hold in falls. Your chin immediately falls back into your chest as a sob breaks from your lips, and before you know it Jake’s grasping onto you. He’s dripping in sweat, but you could care less, and you fall into his chest as he rocks you. One hand traces up and down your spine, while the other weaves in your hair to hold you as you sob. Every breath is followed by a harsh sob, and you can’t stop the words as they release.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry”

“No, baby. No.”

Jake’s hold on you tightens, as he lays kiss after kiss across the top of your head. You pull away slowly and the hand in your hair comes to rest against your cheek. His thumb rubs small circles and a shuttered breath has you fighting against the way your lips beg to tremble.

“It was negative.”

You watch as a forced smile tugs at his lips and the small tear that traces down his cheek, has you reaching a hand up to brush it away. Your thumb moves over the stubble on his cheek and you give him a small smile, that surely looks like a grimace.

“I love you.”

His words break your heart because it was one thing that you always knew, no matter what Jake would always love you. Even when you feel like he shouldn’t. You gently push up on your toes and place a soft kiss on his lips. It’s short and sweet, but just what you both needed. You settle back on your feet, while Jake cradles your face in both hands and places a kiss on your brow.

“I love you,” Another small unsteady breath falls, “and even though you say you don’t need it. I am s–” Jake’s hand stills your trembling lip as another onset of tears falls. “I am so sorry, that I can’t … I can’t give you a baby.”

The words all but leave your chest before you crumble to the floor as Jake grasps onto your shaking form. His arms wrap around you to pull you into his chest, as sweet nothings are whispered into your hair and you once again, wait for the tears to dry.

…

“Daniel, wait for your mom to cross the road.”

You were on pick-up duty this week and while the older kids were wonderful at waiting inside the school grounds for their parents, your 20 little ones always seemed to slip passed the gate. You wave back to Mrs. Johnson as she takes hold of Daniel's hand. A sigh leaves your body as you glance around and find the school yard nearly empty. 8 of your kids rode the bus and that was the 10th pick-up of the day, now you just had to wait for the twin's foster mother.

The cool wind of the November day cresses your body and causes you to shiver. You might have lived in San Diego, but that didn’t stop the recent set of lower-than-75-degree days you had been having. A sudden grip on your pant leg is followed by what you could only describe as a mini human heater and as you glance down your eyes meet a pair of icy blue ones belonging to one-half of the twins.

“Hi Gray, where’s sissy?” Your hand gently strokes through his sandy blonde hair, to push back the stray pieces that fall over his forehead.

“Laine went back inside. She was cold and I told her that she couldn’t go whifout you, but she not listen.”

A small shutter racks through his chest, and you have to hold your tongue when you see his evident lack of a jacket. Their foster parents weren’t exactly your favorite people, and you had learned firsthand that they were only keeping the twins for the cheque at the end of each month.

It was at the beginning of the school year, not even the second week in and you noticed immediately that the twins were only rotating through 3 sets of clothes. You had gone to visit Mrs. Adam’s, the school's Head Teacher, and she had explained the situation.

It was their 12th foster home in the last 5 years, and while you found them to be perfect little angels, sometimes crazy, but still angels others did not. You had tried to reach out to their foster parents, but after a phone call that ended in you crying, you didn’t bother with them anymore. You had tried to leave it alone; it wasn’t your place to pry, and you knew that the kids were physically safe.

That answer came from Madelaine, she was a talkative five-year-old that honestly reminded you of Jake, and most days she would chat with you about different things she had learned, mostly in concern to the ocean and its sea life. Though one day, out of nowhere she had come to sit with you and Grayson on the playground bench during recess and told you, “He likes you cause you are nice and warm. Plus, you don’t push us like Mr. Meanie's face did.” It had stunned you for a moment, while Laine wasn’t affected by the words, little Gray had gone ridged at your side and clasped onto your hand. You had questioned her and found out that it was one of the other 12 foster homes. You didn’t push for specifics, not wanting to upset either of them, though Laine had told you that they only got in trouble when Gray did something wrong.

“He doesn’t mean to. Sometimes his eyeballs just go funny.”

Your gaze moved between the two of them, a questioning look on your face, before asking Gray to explain. That was how you had figured out he needed glasses, lucky the school provided testing, and not even two days after the test, you had him in a little pair of wire-framed glasses. You had him pick them out the day he had the testing, and without a second thought, you bought them.

You buying them things had become a regular occurrence. While the kids didn’t know it was you giving them clothes, Mrs. Adams made sure that they had whatever you gave her. Though now looking at Grayson you curse yourself for not thinking of “winter” coats before and mentally add it to the list to pick up when you and Jake are next at the mall.

“Come on my darling, let’s go find Miss Madelaine.”

Gray unwinds from your tan pant leg, before grasping your hand and tugging you forward. You glance behind you, up and down the road to check if their car is anywhere in sight, and find an empty street. You and Grayson make your way back into the school, stopping to ask Ms. Reynolds to call their foster parents, before heading down to your classroom.

“Did you know when a plane goes like this,” The hand not holding yours reached up and turns over, with his palm facing up. “it’s called in– inverturd”

You glance down at the little boy as he slightly adjusts the glasses on his face while waiting for your reply.

“Inverted, Gray. With an ‘e’”

You found out recently that while at home the kids either watched tv or played on a shared tablet, from an anonymous individual this last month. The twins weren’t allowed to go outside, and the pair barely had any toys, which left them to learn all sorts of things.

You learned early on in the school year that the Gray loved planes and watched an array of war movies. While Laine loved the ocean and watched the discovery channel quite religiously. The fact that they were watching movies and shows not explicitly meant for children had your gut twisting, but they had told you that the house didn’t have children’s channels. So, the next best option was military films and shark week, Laine’s favorite. That had come directly from Laine after she explained that they were learning at least unlike other kids, she was the bona fide sassy one of the pair.

Your classroom comes into view, the fall-decorated door stands ajar and Madelaine sits at your desk eating a pack of gummies. She has both hers and Gray's backpacks sitting on the floor, while she hums along to the music coming from the Alexa on your desk.

“Good job bringing Ms. CeeCee, Gray.” You glance down at the small boy still grasping your hand, his eyes remain on his sister though a big smile spreads across his face. Laine wiggles another bag of gummies at Gray, and he drops your hand, quick to grab the snack from his sister.

“Miss Laine, what do you think you’re doing in here?” You try to appear stern though a smile breaks across your face as she gives you a toothless grin. Her middle bottom tooth had fallen out just last week, and it made her smile all the more cute.

“I was cold, and Janice wasn’t coming anyway. She never does.” The small grimace she gives you makes your heartache.

“I know, but I’m here and we can do some crafts while waiting. Ms. Reynolds in the office is trying to call her.”

…

You glance up at the clock and see that it's nearing 5 pm. You glance back to the twins and find Grayson meticulously gluing things to his paper in a pattern. While Madelaine has used every color of feather you have, on a crown that now rests on her head. You didn’t mind staying after with the kids, what was frustrating was the lack of care that their “parent” was displaying.

“I’m just going to go see if Ms. Reynolds has heard anything, you two be good while I’m gone.”

Gray only nods in reply as his tongue peeks out between his lips in concentration. Laine gives you a cheeky smile, followed by a ‘mkay.’ Your shoes click against the tile floors, and you wave to Mrs. Rogers, the 5th-grade teacher, that’s shutting off lights for the night.

The office isn’t far from your room, and you find a frustrated Mrs. Adams that’s sitting and talking with Ms. Reynolds. They glance at you at the sound of you knocking on the door frame, and you already know the answer.

…

Jake had gotten off a little early, the team had run drills all morning and then Jake was stuck doing paperwork. He was more than happy when he finished that last of the paperwork at 4:30 and decided to leave early.

He slips in the truck, though before he can head out there’s a knock against his window. Jake glances over, before rolling down the window for Mav. Jake had been surprised when he got called back for the Dagger Squad and even more surprised to find out that his father-in-law was in charge. You had been married for just over a year when Jake got called back to Top Gun and you both couldn’t have been happier to come back.

“Have you talked to Y/n yet?”

The older man sighs while leaning up against the truck, he grabs the ball cap from his head while running his hand through his hair. He was clearly stressed about something, and it had to have occurred in the last 4 hours because Maverick had been perfectly fine this morning.

“No, I was just about to call her about dinner. What’s up?” Jake questions slightly confused.

“She must be ignoring Lanell. The woman’s called me twice today, wanting to know about the last round of treatment.”

A harsh sigh leaves Jake at the mention of your mother. Lanell was an interesting woman, to say the least, and your relationship was almost nonexistent. She had a habit of putting you down, and during the last treatment, she had said some unforgivable things about your lacking ability.

“Y/n blocked her and she’s lucky that’s all that happened.”

Mav’s brow furors slightly in question and leans farther into Jake’s truck.

“Lanell told Y/n that unless she got pregnant, she was a failure as a woman.” Jake’s head slightly shakes, still astounded by what your mother had said. “I don’t hit women, but by God, I wanted to lay her out.”

Mav slowly blinks at Jake, before dropping his head and pinching the bridge of his nose. A harsh laugh falls from the man, followed by a deep breath before he’s looking back at a less-than-happy Jake.

“Every time she calls me, I regret having a child with her. Why couldn’t I have just been smart from the beginning and had Y/n with Penny.”

Another laugh falls from Jake, as he shakes his head in agreement. With a nod, Mav is pushing off Jake’s door and tells him that he will handle your mother.

The drive home isn’t long, and the chill of the day is crisp and exactly the type of weather Jake loved. Living in California didn’t exactly mean that there was a fall and having days like these made Jake miss the cool weather.

Pulling into your drive, Jake notices your missing car and reaches for his phone to call you. Even when Jake got off early, if it was after 4:30 you were usually home before him. There had been times in the past, but they were few and far between.

…

The buzzing causes the whole table to shake and has both of the kids looking up from their current art projects. Their eyes bounce from the phone and back to one another. Madelaine is reaching for it before Grayson can stop her, as a teasing smile followed by a giggle erupts from her.

“You shouldn’t touch Ms. CeeCee’s phone, that’s not nice.”

“It’s not nice to ignore phone call’s either.”

Gray falls silent at the comment, before glaring at his sister and going back to his beads. Laine does a small dance in her chair in victory, before pushing the green answer button.

“Hello.”

“Ummm, Hi”

“Who’s this.”

Grayson glances back at his sister and then to the door, in hopes that you’ll show up and take the phone from Laine. He didn’t want to get in trouble and would be completely fine with letting his sister take the fall for this.

“I’m Jake, where is Mrs. Seresin?”

“I’m Madelaine. Ms. CeeCee went to the office, but you can talk to me.”

A laugh echoes through the phone and a wide grin breaks across Laine’s face. Gray looks up when he hears the quiet laugh and finds his sissy with her tongue out at him. His own tongue pokes out at her before he gets up to move closer to the phone. Laine notices Gray’s sudden interest and brings the phone down to set it on the tabletop. The twins silently look at the phone’s call screen before Gray finds the speaker button and Jake’s voice echoes through the room.

“Mr. Jake, my bubba is here too. Gray, say hi.” She nudges at the boy’s shoulder, who only looks at her before shaking his head. “It’s not nice to ignore people Gray. How would you feel if Mr. Jake ignored us?”

A smile breaks across Jake’s face at the young girl, though makes sure he doesn’t laugh and waits for Grayson to speak.

“Hi.” His voice is small and it’s only a little peep from him, but Jake’s heart aches at the sound of the pair together.

Before Jake can say anything else, he hears a high-pitched squeal followed by your laughter and the shuffle of the phone.

“Darlin?”

His voice is still on loudspeaker, the echo gives it away and his question is followed by two separate voices saying ‘yes?’ One is clearly your voice, while the other is undeniably the cheeky little spitfire that had been holding a full conversation with him. A full laugh falls from Jake and he can’t help but smile at how adorable both kids were, even if Grayson didn’t talk much. Jake just knew the pair of them were adorable, trouble, but adorable.

“Not the little darlin’, Ms. CeeCee Darlin’.”

…

You can hear the giggling of the pair before you even reach the door of your classroom, though you hadn’t expected to hear Jake’s voice ringing through the classroom. You walk in trying to be as quiet as possible, not wanting to interrupt the twins. Their art projects sit abandoned, while Laine sits up on her knees in a chair, leaning over your phone with the biggest smile on her face. Gray stands at her side, leaning against the table but looking between the phone and Laine before a small ‘hi’ is mumbled from his lips.

They are completely consumed with the conversation with Jake, which gives you the perfect distraction, so you can sneak up on them. You slowly walk across the room, making sure to avoid anything that would make noise. As you get next to them you almost laugh at how consumed they are, though you're quick to reach out and tickle them both on their sides. Gray only jumps as a small squeak is released, while Laine jumps full-on and releases a scream. Both kids spin around, their own hands coming out to tickle at you now and making you laugh.

Jake’s laugh is followed by him calling for you, though you weren’t prepared for Madelaine to answer as well. Gray silently laughs at your hip, while Laine wears a shameless smile that only grows when you shake your head. Your hand tracks through her long dirty blonde hair, it was a few shades darker than Grayson’s, though their eyes were the exact same shade of blue. You take the phone from the table and gently tell the kids to begin putting their crafts away, while you talk with Mr. Jake.

“Hi, honey.”

“Hey, darlin’. You got the phone back from the twin terrors?”

His voice is teasing, and you can’t help the smile that crosses your lips as you watch them clean up. You listen to Jake and hum in answer to his question about dinner, though your main focus stays on the twins as they work in tandem perfectly together. You agree to pick up something on the way home, and that you shouldn’t be too late.

“Darlin’ did you hear me?”

The words pull your attention back to the phone call that you were still on.

“I’m sorry honey, I was just watching the twins clean up and get ready to go.” Your voice is soft and holds a longing that makes your and Jake’s hearts ache.

“They stayed late today, is everything okay?”

Jake knew bits about their story, though you tried hard not to bring your work home with you. The both of you already had so much going on that consumed your thoughts daily, that worrying about the twins more than you already did, would lead to disaster.

“Yeah, I will explain when I get home. I’m going to get them ready to go though, I love you.”

“I love you, darlin’. Drive safe, I’ll see you soon.”

You take a deep breath as you hang up, clearing your mind of the silent longing that the wish the twins were yours. That they were going home with you to Jake, in a warm loving home that always put them first. Though the thought only creates room for heartbreak and so you push it to the back of your mind as you get ready to leave.

…

You watch as Janice gets the twins in the car, though she doesn’t bother with helping them buckle, and a deep anger blooms in your chest. Though it’s eased as you see both kids get the latches in place, and a smile crosses your face when they wave to you with small smiles.

Your smile stays in place until the car disappears down the street, then it falls, and you wrap your arms around yourself as you make your way to your car. The cool air plays no part in how your heart clenches and the small squeeze you give yourself before getting in the car to head home.

The drive home was fast, given that it was late enough that the rush had already passed. The stop at the Italian place was even quicker and luckily easy, given that Jake had called your order in and you just had to pick it up. Your hip pushes against the car door causing it to close, as you hold the takeout in one hand and your school bag in the other.

A small smile graces your lips as you see the front door open, and Jake already has his hand out to take part in your load. He is quick to grab the steaming Italian food, but you reach up and pull him into a sweet kiss before he can pull away. The food and school bag sit in your hands completely forgotten, as Jake places a kiss on the top of your head as you rest against his chest.

He gives your hip a tiny squeeze before he pulls away to lead you into the kitchen. You drop your bag in the hall and kick off your shoes before following Jake. He’s already got the table set and you place a kiss on his cheek in thanks, as he places the different containers from the Italian place out.

The slow tune of Bing Crosby floats through the kitchen and you smile as Jake slowly hums along to the track. You skirt around each other, and after five years of marriage, you know each other like the back of your hand and work flawlessly together. A laugh falls from your lips as Jake’s arms wrap around your waist and turn you in his arms to dance along to the old vinyl.

“How’s my best girl doing?”

The words are spoken against your hair, and you hum as he spins you out, before bringing you back in his arms.

“I’m good.” Your words ring out though there’s a hitch in your words that has Jake waiting for you to continue while he sways you. “I just don’t understand. They don’t care about them; how can you just forget about picking up your children.” A small sniffle comes from you that has Jake pulling you back, and as his hand settles on your cheek your lips twist in annoyance. “She didn’t even check to make sure they were buckled.”

Tears gather in your eyes as Jake’s lips brush against your brow, and you can’t stop them as they start falling. His hand tracks across your face and sweeps the hair from your eyes to tuck it gently behind your ear. He watches you in silence, with a frown marring his face at the words.

Jake knew how much having a child meant to you, it meant just as much to him, but seeing you so heartbroken over it was almost worse than the actual fact. You had mentioned the twins to Jake before, though you never went fully in-depth. Even without you telling him every small detail concerning their life, Jake knew how much they meant to you.

Hell, Jake knew that you had started buying them clothes, after finding a bag marked ‘twins’ in your car. After that, he may or may not, have gone out and got them a few things. Including the tablet that they so dearly loved. Jake had given the pile of items to Mrs. Adams one day and asked her not to tell you. The elderly woman only smiled at him and gave him a wink, before taking the items. Jake didn’t even know the children and yet he felt a connection with them. Having the call today only confirmed that they were absolutely perfect, hell raisers, but perfect.

You shuffle in Jake's hold and brush the stray tears from your face, while you lean back against the counter. You pull Jake with you and wrap your arms around his waist easily, silently toying with the band of his sweatpants.

“How is it fair that they get to have children and they don’t even care. Meanwhile, we try and try, and it never happens.” Another broken sob, “I would love them so much. I do love them so much, but they aren’t ours and they’re never going to be ours.”

The final words are no more than a whisper from your lips, but Jake hears them perfectly. The food on the table is easily forgotten as Jake pulls your whimpering form into his hold, in the only way that he knows how to comfort you. It wasn’t a problem that Jake could just fix and the harsh truth, that only time would tell, was not something he would ever get used to.

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angelbunny-arts · 8 months

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Behold,,,,. Every hermit design I’ve created over the past year and a bit: with heights and chibi versions of wings included>:D

Species, fun Details and height sorted version under the cut !!

- Grian

A parrot avian in some universes, a shapeshifted watcher in others, it’s a 50/50 which one I decided to go with

Avians in my mind take on the wing patterns of a bird they connect with, which usually happens at around 18-23. Instead of facial hair they grow feathers around their cheeks and in their hair.

His earring is a present from mumbo ^^

The gold detailing on his wings have the watcher symbol and suns on it, and his shoes have suns too! (why suns you may ask? “Grian” is the Irish word for sun, and according to my myth/history nerd friend there was an Irish sun goddess named Grian)

-Mumbo jumbo

An albino enderman

He dyes his hair because it looks cool, you can see a bit of his natural roots

A feather keychain on his belt from Grian

- GtwScar

A half-allay

He’s got heterochromia with the HOTGUY colours>:)

His ears and canine teeth are rounded! In contrast to half-vexes who’s features are sharper

Him and cub have matching vex magic earrings

His design is probably the one that keeps to the original skin the least, but it also happens to be one of my favourites to draw so

- Cubfan

A half-vex

I don’t have much to say here, he’s just kinda silly? I suppose there’s the fact that I decided that convex gets a diamond as their shape, so he’s got some of that detailing

He was originally supposed to have glasses however I am terrible at remembering glasses even though I wear them so they just kinda vanished

His hair is probably one of the most fun to colour too:D

- Geminitay

An elf (the antlers are accessories)

She’s got a whole bunch of little leaves everywhere:DD and some cute gold detailing too, otherwise a pretty simple design with not much to say on it

-impulse

Just a regular dude tbh he’s just a guy/pos

He’s got five visible places where I’ve snuck an “i” on him (but there’s one more on the bottom of his shoes)

The yellow In his hair also matches with my skizz, who has blue in his hair

- Pearl

Either a human or an avian, it’s another 50/50 and depends on what I went for with Grian as well if I have him included

If I go the avian route, her wings are small and usually kept under her jacket.

The moon detailing changes with the moon phase! Her hair also gets more floaty depending on how full the moon is

The knot on her shirt is in the shape of a moth

- Tango

A soot fairy, they’re known for working with and manipulating fire and creating machinery.

He’s got heels and he’s absolutely slaying. That’s really it I can’t pick my favourite detail it’s all fantastic. Look at it

I looked at fire/firemen vests for his jacket? That’s a fun fact

- Docm77

A creeper/goat hybrid

There’s like.. so many butterfly motifs on this man it’s fantastic. I also love the horizontal pupil

He looks like a mix between a tired dad and a mad scientist, which was initially not what I was going for but I’m keeping it

————

And, as promised, the height check (for people that are the same height I put whoever looked taller first)

(also disclaimer I made most of these heights up and are not accurate to the ccs)

#art #mcyt #hermitblr #hermitcraft #grian #mumbo jumbo #goodtimeswithscar #cubfan135 #geminitay #impulsesv #pearlescentmoon #tangotek #docm77 #bun art!!#apologies for the random avian lore infodump it will happen again<3

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unexpectedstormy · 25 days

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Skyward Sword Skyloft Aesthetic

I love the aesthetic of Skyloft so let's analyze it and see what makes it tick. This will be a long post with lots and lots of photos.

First of all, In Skyloft there are two very different styles of architecture:

Ancient architecture, which are the stately grey stone structures like the light tower in the plaza and around the Statue of the Goddess (as well as various locations on the surface)

And the Skyloftian architecture, which is much more round, colorful and whimsical than the ancient architecture. I will be focusing on the Skyloftian architecture.

Skyloftian houses are built underground with one exposed side facing out. The roofs are flat and often have paths or grass growing on them in order to maximize surface area and places to walk. Each house is unique and is personalized to the occupant.

Non-house buildings like the bazaar, knight academy, and the Lumpy Pumpkin are built above-ground and have varying kinds of roofs, from wood to bamboo, to tented rugs.

Interior walls generally follow this pattern: the walls are painted (or possibly frescoed) with a primary color--it's not a solid color, but with a dappled 'paintbrush-stroke' pattern. Decorative stones or tiles of a contrasting color are placed in a horizontal wavy line in the bottom half of the wall and in another line near the ceiling.

At the base, is a layer of stones of a different color. Structurally, this is likely a foundational base on which the walls are constructed to protect them from groundwater damage, like in cob (a certain kind of mud-cement) house construction.

Buildings and rooms tend to be curvy or round and often have whimsical features built in, like the oven in the kitchen and the bird faucet and tiled round bathing pool in the bathroom of the Knight Academy. In houses, sinks and counters are sometimes built into the wall. This is another feature you see frequently in cob house construction.

In fact, the Skyloftian style of architecture seems to have taken heavy inspiration from cob house construction. Cob is a building material that is made of local mud with additives to turn it into cement with hay or grass mixed in. The cob is mounded up into the shape of the walls and sealed with sealant and plaster. It is very quick to construct cob buildings and they are highly customizable. Building made of cob tend to be whimsical--look up images and see for yourself.

Furniture is made with wood and often has decorative tiling, painting, or carvings in them.

In terms of decorations, the most common motifs are geometric designs, floral and plant designs, and bird-themed designs. Bright colors are preferred, and almost everything in the whole game, but especially in Skyloft, has a pink or purple tinge/undertone to it.

One thing Skyloftians love are ornate rugs. Every room and every house has a rug, usually multiple rugs. Each rug is unique, brightly colored, and usually geometric in design.

There is even an entire (unmanned) shop in the bazaar full of rugs and other textiles.

Other decorations you might find in homes and buildings are pots, vases, bottles, and plates with colorful designs

Lace, stuffed animals, decorative pillows

Turkish lamps, wall hangings, table placemats or a table runner

Mobiles and decorative ceiling hangings

Remlit tree

And some rooms/houses are themed, for example, Fledge's room has a tropical island theme.

Outdoors, the village is decorated with multi-colored banners, buntings, pinwheels, flags, and flowers.

Together all these things construct the aesthetic and style of Skyloft: rounded and curvy buildings, cob-style construction, geometric, floral and bird designs, bright colors, ornate rugs, pots, Turkish lamps, stained glass, wood carvings, and lots and lots of whimsy.

#long post #analysis post #aesthetic of skyloft #cob construction #will make more aesthetic/design analysis posts about SS in the future #wanna make my house look more like skyloft #loz #skyward sword #the legend of zelda #legend of zelda

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blackmoonlightexpress · 7 months

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TTEOTM Easter Eggs Part 3 - Costume and Makeup Details

I love beautiful costumes, but even more when they tell a story! Here are a few of my observations. Did you spot anything else? (Spoilers!)

(1) The two outfits Ye Xiwu gifted Tantai Jin are both quilted. The purple costume is particularly unusual in that it's constructed like a blanket. In contrast, all his clothing in the hostage prince arc are not quite thick enough for Sheng kingdom's harsh winters. Ye Xiwu is literally bringing warmth to his life.

(2) TTJ and YXW wear similar costumes in their two love scenes - (1) Ep 2 - YXW's imagination of the drugged affair which led to their marriage and (2) Ep 39, where they finally consummated their marriage on screen. YXW wears the same pink costume. TTJ in different but identical-looking mustard yellow costumes.

(3) Some viewers have criticized Ye Xiwu for not taking off hair accessories before going to bed, chalking it up to lazy filmmaking. This is not necessarily the case. In ancient China, upper class women did sleep with their hair-do and manage to keep elaborate designs in tack. How? By resting her neck, not her head, on the pillow.

Ye Xiwu / Li Susu does go without hair accessories in a few occasions: when she is traveling, ill, depressed, and in mourning. It is most likely a creative choice to create a contrast between moments where her character is in control and powerful vs. vulnerable.

(4) All of Tantai Jin's female lieutenants wear red, from Pianran (after she starts working for him) to Siying and Monu. In fact, so does Tantai Minglang's lieutenant Fuyu. Red appears to be the career woman's color in this world!

(5) After Mingye falls in love with Sangjiu, he adds the red waist scarf belt that's part of his wedding dress on top of his normally blue outfit.

(6) The costume that Cang Jiumin (left) wears when refining the Dragonheart Shield echoes Mingye's costume (right) through the red/blue colors and collar design, reinforcing the connection between the two characters.

(7) The costumes in Bo're dream hint at the characters' true forms:

Mingye (dragon): dragonscale armour & patterned clothing

Sangjiu & Sangyou (clams): pearls & shell motifs

Tianhuan (snake): gold serpent hair crown & bracelets

(8) Throughout the drama, only characters in the Upper Immortal Realm go full Dunhuang Feitian style, characterized by bandeaus, scarves, layers of drapery, sleeveless (similar to Indian clothing).

The style is used in formal occasions or to confer power or godliness. For example, Sangjiu goes Dunhuang with sleeveless draping outfits at her wedding and after she goes dark.

Similarly, when Susu and Tantai Jin become gods at the finale, they also take on a new Dunhuang-style outfit. In fact, the multi-color drapery of Tantai Jin's outfit seem to be an amalgamation of the fabric used in the twelve gods' outfits.

(9) Members of the Moon Tribe all wear long wavy hair, chunky metal and coin ornaments, and hair braiding.

Tantai Jin follows the dress code when he stays with the Moon Tribe before entering the spiritual dimension.

Guess who also loves his wavy hair, metallic accessories, and leather? Of course it's the Ancient Devil God, again reminding viewers of his connection to the tribe.

Bonus: Luo Yunxi mentioned in an interview that his characters (hostage prince, emperor, Mingye, Devil Gods) all have different hairpieces/wigs. He had to take off and reglue his hair between scenes.

#till the end of the moon #luo yunxi #black moonlight holds the be script #cdrama #chang yue jin ming #chinese drama #tteotm #tantai jin #bai lu #ye xiwu #mingye #sangjiu

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abby118 · 10 days

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hi! your post about loki's costumes the other day was really interesting :D since you're talking about thor, what are your thoughts on *thor's* costuming?

Hiii I'm so glad you asked! :D

There are numerous paragraphs in the The Art of books talking about this topic, but to preface this, I'll mention these from the first book:

(concept art by Charlie Wen)

As I've already said in the post about Loki's costume design, the helmet design is a part of Odin's helmet design. (X) Although, we only see Thor wearing it once, during his coronation.

-again, I really like the colours they chose for him, especially considering the fact that silver seems to be a bit rarer than gold in Asgard, and red is the complementary/opposite colour to green. Odin also wears a combination of gold & silver.

-of course, I have to mention the chainmail sleeves.

I know many people like the cirular elements to his armour (and the runes around the circles!), but I, personally, like the pattern of the metal and its combination with leather.

-Obviously, Mjölnir is a topic on its own and I would go into a complete tangent, but I felt it needed to be mentioned at least once.

-Another detail I like, is that most of the time, Thor's armour is pretty heavy (especially when compared to some of Loki's). He's got a lot of metal and I think it reflects his combat style in a way. Unlike Loki, he doesn't strike me as someone who'd need a lot of agility, mainly because his fighting style is very force-focused and well.. Mjölnir does the job.

-Moving on to the first Avengers, at first, the armour composition is slightly different. There's more leather and the contrasting colours are more visible. I like to think this is a bit of a nod to him being on Midgard. Of course, once it gets to the fight with the Chitauri army, he returns back to his usual battle setup, I don't know what else to call it.

I think my favourite detail is the armguard with the symbol of Loki's helmet on it.

-His TDW armour is probably my favourite, and I think that's because it's more fitting for actual battle (as he'd been "restoring the order of the 9 realms"), and then we get a glipse of a more daily life on Asgard compared to the ones we'd seen prior. It's also darker, which.. is a nice detail in context of the movie, as well as the story by that point.

It also seems more practical in terms of actual protection (although, I'm sure having the long cape attached to himself is notoriously inconvenient).

(concept art by Charlie Wen)

Unlike most people, I absolutely love the black leather cloak. (I also recommend checking out this article- X)

One tiny detail I noticed is the zipper-like lining they used that's similar to the lining seen in Loki's armour.

-Thor doesn't really like wearing the chainmail does he? It's a tradition at this point.

-and an honourable mention: this outfit from Avengers Age of Ultron.

#Thor #costume design #og Thor supremacy #ask #abby talks #Thor 1 #The Avengers #Thor The Dark World #Avengers Age of Ultron

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strongheartneteyam · 8 months

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Realize where you belong.

Chapter 8

Pairing: neteyam sully x female!human!reader/female!dreamwalker!reader

CW: a whole lot of fluff, intense feelings, angst, self doubt, slight reference to depressive symptoms, crystal appears for the first time (she's reader's best and only actual friend), playful teasing between friends, crystal is a sweetheart, some funny/feel good parts, protective neteyam, neteyam flirting with reader, heated make out session, sharing the same bed trope (idk if it counts lol), cuddling, sexual tension, kissing, mentions of being turned on, moaning, love confessions, neteyam licking reader's neck, neteyam using his fangs to tease reader in a sexual way, reader still feels a bit weird about her deep love for neteyam, bad words, melancholic vibes, reader is gradually letting go of her fears and diving deep into her relationship with neteyam. Lemme know if I forgot anything

Hi, my babies! I hope y'all like this chapter. I only had the inspo to finish it today ahaha comments are always VERY appreciated by this author! 💕 I love all my readers. You guys give me a reason to go on and not give up on my dreams (I think some of you already know I dream of becoming a pro writer one day) even when everything is dark around me.

Slightly proofread.

Chapter 7

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

They think I'm insane, they think my lover is strange

But I don't have to fucking tell them anything

And I'm gonna write it all down, and I'm gonna sing it on stage

But I don't have to fucking tell you anything

That's the beauty of a secret

You know you're supposed to keep it

Strange Love (Halsey)

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Yesterday had been a mess of a day. But it also ended up being one of the best days you had in such a long time. You finally had the courage to tell Neteyam about how you truly felt about him.

Today you were gonna see Neteyam at night again. You two had come to a conclusion that he would spend some time with you in your room during the eclipse. The fact that the both of you would be alone in your room for hours, when you would be wearing only a nightgown (you just were not a pajamas kind of girl) made you feel nervous in a good way. The butterflies in your stomach were flying round and round and they would not leave you alone. It felt good, though. That kind of euphoria made you forget the many things in life that would make your heart hurt way too often.

You were cooking in the lab kitchen and singing to yourself, in a low tone, excited, thinking about seeing Neteyam's beautiful big blue face again, his bioluminescent freckles adorning his forehead, cheeks, nose, chin… He was so perfect. At least to you. You did not care if the other humans found his appearance weird.

Crystal was there in the kitchen with you, her back hunched as she cleaned the floor using a high tech machine that resembled a mixture of a broom and a vacuum cleaner and had green and blue lights that shone in irregular patterns throughout its handle. She noticed how happy you looked and smiled.

"What's up with you, (y/n)? You've been so down lately and now you're singing while preparing food?" She teased you in a friendly way, laughing slightly.

Crystal was such a sweet girl. She was so calm and nice to everyone, even when treated badly. You admired that quality in her.

She was a beautiful asian girl with straight raven black hair and pale skin that contrasted with her hair, making her look angelic to you. Her smile was also so kind. It was her smile that made you trust her and befriend her the first time you both spoke.

You laughed shyly while looking at her "It's nothing, Crys." That was the nickname you gave her "I'm just a bit happy today. You should be happy for me instead of teasing me!" You were now not shy but mischievous "You're the one who's always telling me to see the good in life, despite the darkness. That's what I'm trying to do." You looked back at the meat you were seasoning and thought that Neteyam was the light in the middle of darkness for you at the moment

Crystal approached you and gave you a quick kiss on the cheek "Whatever you say, little bat. I just wanna see you happy. That's truly all I want." She would always call you "little bat" because she told you that you have kind of a gothic vibe, since you're not really that into socializing and prefer your own company most times and you don't really smile at strangers. According to Crystal, that made you mysterious. You thought that was a bit cheesy but again, not your words. Crystal was the one claiming that. You laughed internally.

"I know, my Crys. And I love you so much for that. You're the best friend I could ever ask for."

"See?! You're all sappy! Something good happened! This is not just you deciding to be positive all of a sudden. If something happened, you better tell me, you hear me?!" She teased but you knew she also really wanted to know

Sometimes you hated how she could see right through you because you didn't always want to tell her all that was in your mind, even though you loved her so much and she was your best friend. Like now, for example. You couldn't tell her about Neteyam. That was something that, at least for now, would have to be kept a secret. You could only hope Derek would be decent enough to keep his word and not tell anyone about what had happened when Neteyam saw you and him kissing.

༊⁀➷

Even though it was cold, you kept your window unlocked and slightly open that night once again - a small gap, as always - just so Neteyam could come inside your room through it.

When you saw him approaching your window, his dark blue skin looking almost magical in the dark of the eclipse, his big size now exciting you instead of scaring you, your heart started beating so fast, it was just like it was in a running competition.

You practically jumped from your bed to the floor and walked as fast as your nervous legs would let you towards the window. Neteyam smiled at you so widely. Damn, were his fangs sexy… He barely got there and you were already getting turned on.

"Neteyam!" His name came out of your mouth in such a happy tone

"Hi, hi'ì emyu. You look so pretty tonight. I missed your pretty face."

Your heart started beating faster even if it seemed like that wasn't even possible to begin with.

"You're making me blush. Stop!" You laughed nervously as you opened the window for him "Come in." You wanted to call him "baby" or something cute like that but he made you so nervous with his confident but kind and warm personality that you still couldn't manage to do that.

Once he was inside your room, he knelt down in front of you - so your size difference wouldn't be so ridiculously big -, cupped your face with both his big blue hands and kissed your lips quickly. It wasn't a long kiss but it was enough to make your legs feel weak.

"It's late, oeyä tawtute. You have to rest. You should lay on your bed while we talk. I can lay by your side. But only if you feel comfortable with that." He looked you in your eyes, trying to let you know that now he would always try his hardest to respect your boundaries

You thought that the way he was taking care of you was so lovely. It made your heart melt, honestly. And the thought of Neteyam laying next to you in your bed, your bodies so close to each other since the bed would be incredibly small to his na'vi body, made you say "yes" immediately, without thinking twice. You wanted him that close to you so bad. You had missed him all day.

Neteyam was beyond happy with your answer. You walked towards your bed and Neteyam walked right behind you. Soon enough, the both of you were sharing your bed.

"Neteyam…" Your voice echoed in the cold air of your room but Neteyam's warmth was keeping you cozy, his body pressed against yours as you both cuddled in your bed that looked ridiculously small when Neteyam was laying on it, all curled up to be able to fit there with you.

"What, yawntu?" He looked at you with eyes so tender, they made your heart feel warm and you felt truly loved after such a long time not even knowing how that felt like

"I'm sorry I didn't say it back when you said it… but… I love you too. I love you so much. I don't even know how I can feel so deeply for you if I met you not that long ago. It's been what? 4 days?" You looked concerned

Neteyam touched your face, making you feel the heat of his big hand all over your skin

"Stop thinking too much. Just let it be. Just feel what you feel for me and don't try to reason about it. What matters is what we feel for each other. What matters is that your heart beats fast for me and so does my heart for you."

Even though Neteyam had just reassured you, seeming to be calm and unbothered, your words did surprise him. When he first told you, in his people's language, that he loved you, you did not say it back. He tried to think it was just you still being overwhelmed with the odd situation that being in a relationship with a na'vi was to you - he knew that the fact that you two were from different species still weirded you out a bit - but he couldn't help but feel insecure. Now that you had finally declared your love for him, he felt like he could finally breathe and that horrible fear of losing you started to slowly go away.

You breathed deep and nodded. You knew he was right. You were a chronic overthinker.

Neteyam gently brought his lips to yours and gave you a kiss full of care and love. He pressed his plump, soft lips against yours and you kissed him back. You both kept your lips together for a few seconds and slowly parted, looking inside each other's eyes. There was trust there. There was something special between you both, a bond, an energy, something that you never found anywhere else before. Nobody made you feel what Neteyam did.

"I wanna tell you something."

"Please do" Neteyam started to run his slender four fingers through your hair

"I was so afraid you weren't gonna come back for me after that night when I screamed at you." Your heart hurt as you admitted that to him, but you tried not to let it show

"Do you really think I would let you go that easily? (Y/n), listen to me. I know, I just know, right here," Neteyam tapped on his chest, right where his heart was "that I will love you forever. Even if I did everything in my power to get you to be mine and I still failed, I'd still love you until the day I die. So, no, I wasn't gonna give up on you just like that. I'm the Mighty Warrior, remember?" You laughed at the silly name Neteyam calls himself as he smiled at you and chuckled "I'd fight for you until the end, hi'ì tawtute." (small human) "That's a war I'm not willing to lose. No way."

"But I treated you so badly…" You furrowed your eyebrows, gazing at him with sadness and guilt in your face

"I know… but to be fair, like you said, you're not used to my na'vi behavior. I came on too strong. I'm sorry. It's just what you do to me. It's all your fault! You're too beautiful!" His expression quickly changed from ashamed - when he was apologizing - to playful, as he got closer to the end of the sentence and he smiled at you, winning back another smile from you.

His smile was one of the purest things you had ever seen. Perhaps the purest one. So precious.

"Can I ask you something?" You spoke

"Anything, yawntutsyìp."

"Why do you say I'm "more na'vi than human"?" I know you already explained what you mean a little bit back when we first met but… I'm gonna need more than that." You looked at him chuckling softly, wondering, as your eyes showed him how much you wanted to know the answer

"I think it should be obvious to you as much as it is obvious to me." Neteyam smirked, playfully

"Why so?" You smiled, confused

"I wish you could see yourself from the outside, like I can see you. I wish you could see how miserable you look living your human life, cooking and washing dishes inside that kitchen. But, when you're in your Avatar… you smile so widely, you exude childhood wonder, your happiness is so, so contagious… It's like you feel truly alive like that, like you feel free and at home. It's so beautiful to watch. That's why I used to always watch you." He smiled looking down, bashful

༊⁀➷

Some time had passed and it was now getting only a few hours away from the end of the eclipse. You knew Neteyam had to go back to his tribe soon enough. But you didn't want him to go. You wanted him to stay forever by your side, not being parted from you for a single second, as clingy as that sounded. And the best part is: you were almost sure he felt the same way. Okay, if you were to only listen to the rational voices in your brain and not to the voices telling you that you were unlovable, you knew Neteyam felt the same way. You could just feel it in the air when he was around you.

And at that moment, he was showing you how much he needed you in a way that was making you feel things you hadn't felt in so long.

Neteyam was licking the sensitive skin of your neck, making you let your head to the side, leaving more space for him to keep on doing that, as you closed your eyes and moaned, almost too loud, at the way his large tongue lapped on your neck, tasting the skin and massaging it gently. Saying that felt like Paradise would be an understatement. You had no fucking words to even start to explain what he made you feel.

"Oeyä tawtute… my yawne…" he cooed on your ear, kissing the earlobe and using his sharp teeth to nible on it a little bit "You're mine now. All mine, my muntxate." (female mate)

Neteyam wrapped his tail around your right leg. That felt possessive but in a good way. It made you feel safe. Like belonging to him was not gonna be such a scary, anxious experience at all to you. He seemed to already know you. Neteyam held you just the way you liked it and you wanted him to keep his big arms wrapped around you for eternity. He felt just like an overused, old t-shirt that was already so used to your body that it felt extremely comfy and relaxing on your skin, making you wish you could go everywhere wearing that t-shirt. So familiar and safe.

Even if your brain still tried to tell you it was totally insane to feel like that about a guy - a na'vi - you had just met, you didn't give a damn anymore. Your sick brain already made you suffer a lot in so many areas of your life. You wouldn't let that fucking pink squishy organ ruin your relationship with Neteyam. Not anymore.

༊⁀➷

"How camest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore?

The orchard walls are high and hard to climb,

And the place death, considering who thou art"

Juliet Capulet - Romeo and Juliet (William Shakespeare)

༊⁀➷

Taglist:

@kitsunefirewail

@tumblingdevils

@a-blog-name-2003

@xylobee

@nerdybouquetofkittens-blog

@henhouse-horrors

@lala-1516

@xylianasblog

@samistars

@crazy4books1

@explosiongamora

@lik0

@your-girl-mj

@darktyrantwinner

@sereisstuff

@yeosxxx

@die4niyahhh

@iman-lu

@manumanulau

@im-in-a-pansexual-panik

@hana-yuri

@thehoneymushroomhealer

@melllinaa

@annaibansworld

@siriuslysmoking

@avatar4eva

@ellabellabus07

@badbishsblog

@neteyamsmate4life

@c-h-i-l

@criticallybella

@celi-xxmoon

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dark-frosted-heart · 3 months

Text

The Beast's User Manual - Clavis (Part 1)

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this

Case. 1: How to calm Clavis down when he thinks up a bad idea

Clavis: By the way, Emma. I have a great idea.

During our usual early morning breakfast, Clavis made an exciting announcement.

As I was about to bring some brightly colored food to my mouth when I paused in a panic because in Lelouchian, “great” actually meant “bad”.

Emma: By the way, Clavis, it’s a nice day isn’t it? A great day for a picnic, don’t you think?

Clavis: Haha, it’ll definitely be easier to spend time with the thick clouds and lack of sunlight.

Emma: I know right! I’ll make lunch boxes and we can have it together.

Clavis: Good, good. Let’s eat somewhere in public.

Emma: Where?

Clavis: The office.

Emma: I refuse.

Clavis: But why not? What’s the point of having a lunch box made by your beloved if you can’t show it off?

Emma: Because I’m making it only for you, so I don’t want anyone else to see it…

Emma: Rather, I want to say the reason I want to hide it is because it’s a strange lunch box made to Clavis’ taste…

Clavis: Haha, what’s there to be ashamed of? Your lunch boxes are the best in the world, I can vouch for it. After all, your cooking’s filled with nothing but love. I’m sure everyone will be envious of me. We must make a big deal about it, not only to Chevalier, but also to Nokto, Luke, the bureaucrats, nobles, and servants as well.

Emma: We really shouldn’t?!

Clavis: Anyway, Emma, back to the matter at hand—

(This isn’t good…I couldn’t force a change in topic!)

(In these kinds of situations, if I don’t make a immediately take action, the conversation will continue the way it is)

I set down my cutlery and kissed Clavis on the cheek as he continued his delightful chatter.

It was an act of desperation that suppressed my embarrassment.

Alluring golden eyes widened and I broke into a smile.

Clavis is weak to these kinds of surprise attacks.

Emma: We’re not done talking about the picnic yet.

Clavis: You’re right, please excuse me.

Clavis’ lips relaxed and he hugged my waist before kissing me on the cheek.

His repeated pecks were ticklish.

Emma: W-what are you in the mood for today, Clavis?

Clavis: That’s a tough question, Emma…

Emma: Eh…

Clavis: There’s no way I could compare the things you cook.

Emma: Meaning, anything’s fine.

Clavis: Anything’s fine. Your home cooking has its own category. The fact that it’s a lunch box made by a loved one makes it priceless.

(It’s typical of Clavis to be able to say such a thing so easily)

Clavis: Hmm…

Emma: What’s wrong?

Clavis: It’s nothing. I just thought that my lovely fiancee’s smile was really bright today.

(This mood…)

I closed my eyes as his golden ones approached, and he placed a light kiss on my lips.

He lovingly caressed my cheeks and the mood contrasted with the colorful dishes spread out on the table.

I kissed back and opened my eyes, dizzy from Clavis’ charm.

(We’ve kissed so many times by now, but my heart still makes a fuss)

(But I’m getting off topic—)

Clavis: So, Emma. After the picnic, let’s do something nice.

(Ah…this is bad)

There’s two patterns to Clavis’ schemes, misdirection or never giving up on something.

Looks like today’s the latter. In that case, I have no choice but to concede.

(But I’m not as scared as I used to be. I don’t know what he’s scheming—)

Clavis: Several jewelry dealers are scheduled to have dinner with us today. We’re having a small party, but what do you think will happen when we show off our love?

Emma: I think you can get the message across without having to show off.

Clavis: Yes, they’ll definitely pay us tribute. At any rate, the purpose of the company’s for me to arrange export destinations. I wonder how much jewelry will be collected to gain my favor. I’ll arrange a deal with the one whose jewelry best suits your taste as an honor to the winner. Well, Emma, we’re going to have a busy day. I’ll need to work on a lovey-dovey plan.

Emma: Clavis, you just want to do the lovey-dovey plan don’t you?!

Clavis: Hahaha!

(Sounds like today’s “good thing” will be a lot of work…Oh well)

(Clavis just wanted to amuse me)

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikepri jp #ikepri translation #ikepri summary #clavis lelouch #ikepri clavis

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arknights-imagines · 4 months

Note

Tbh I was thinking of a scenario in my head about doktah (or U) being injured and Rico was taking care of U and U cupped his cheek and called him pretty, he was confused but flustered a bit (insert glitching computer sounds) anyway i luv u and anyone who’s reading this 😍

- 🐲 anon

Hiya there 🐲 anon! Tysm for your request (and I love you too sbsuwh 🥰!!)

I knew I wanted one of the first things I posted after being away for v long to be a request for Executor/'Rico, so your request was perfectly timed and I loved your idea lots aaa! It's v v cute and I feel it fits Executor/'Rico v well 🥺💕!!

I'm a li'l nervous since I feel I'm a bit rusty shiuhge 😭...! But, I had fun with this one and it feels good to be back aaa I hope I did Executor justice here 🙏

Anywho, to you and everyone else, I hope you all enjoy 🥰!!

Taglist for Executor/All Writing!:

@donsofwaste

@tiredstudents

@marahuyos

@vesvic

@cl3v-j

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

Error

Imagine format; mostly in the perspective of the reader, written in second person!

Contains: Executor, gender-neutral Operator as the reader, acquaintances to crushes relationship lolojshd, mentions of things and references to lots of from Executor's archive files, minor injuries and violence, the reader is one of Rhodes Island's Elite Operators, the reader is a li'l bit of a flirt lololsjs, nameless and gender-neutral Doctor as a background character, humour, fluff 💕!

Word count: a little over 2.7k!

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

All Rhodes Island Operators were allowed to work alongside and be dispatched on Operations with each other. Such was a simple fact, and an obvious one; of course it would be bizarre for Rhodes Island, with their policy of levelling all who they employ as equal and for not tolerating discrimination irrespective of one’s reasons, to restrict certain Operators from being assigned into Squads together.

The case of Executor, however, was unavoidably more complicated different.

While all Rhodes Island Operators were allowed to be sent into combat with Executor - that didn’t mean all Rhodes Island Operators were willing to be sent into combat with Executor.

When you had approached the Doctor regarding the subject before boarding the transport that was to take you to the site of your next Operation - you had been assigned to an Operation, along with a party of other Elite Operators that included the Sankta in question, that was a hostage-rescue in Columbia -, they looked off to where Executor was stood counting his ammunition nearby then shrugged.

You had tilted your head to the side and so the Doctor elaborated, “He’s more than capable of handling the perimeter of the Operation ite by himself, and besides, no one on the Squad was agreed to being deployed with him. It’s not unusual, considering his… reputation.” A lift of one of your eyebrows was paired with a puzzled mutter, “But, it’d still be better for him to have some sort of back up. And, what ‘reputation’? Do you mean how he has those people from the Engineering Department always flirting with him?”

It was the Doctor’s turn to tilt their head to the side now, before their voice left them slowly, “No, that’s not what I was-…” They paused, studying your facial features then shifting their gaze from you to Executor, “I was referring to other...things…”

Be it his direct completion of any combat task assigned to him, the immense amount of collateral damage left in nearly all of his mission sites, or that account from the deeply-fazed Operator who was deployed as his partner once, of how Executor barehandedly tore out the heart of a beast directly from its chest - that last one had soon become a Rhodes Island horror story, reimagining Executor as some form of a boogieman impersonating as a Sankta -, majority of Operators had an excuse as to why they would prefer not to be near the ever-composed Sankta during Operations.

The Doctor had long observed a pattern in your behaviour when near Executor, that was in stark contrast to everyone else; though his presence caused most to snap their back straight and tighten the line of their shoulders, your posture when with him instead was always eased with not even the slightest indicator of tension.

Perhaps then, there was one Operator willing to be sent into combat with Executor, the Doctor reassessed.

Such reassessment is the reason as to why you and Executor were in the position you both were currently - together on a short rooftop in order to provide ranged support as the rest of the Squad rescued the hostages and subdued the hostiles.

The choice to deploy you with Executor was surprisingly beneficial, as two pairs of eyes are better at one pair in regards to surveying for threats. Despite that the rest of the Squad had initially looked at the Doctor as though they’d grown a pair of Sarkaz ears and gained a Phidian tail all at once, they now concluded yours and Executor’s position together for this Operator as all part of the Doctor’s plan.

However, you would’ve argued that your eyes slowly becoming more occupied with staring at the Sankta in wordless awe - those rumours about how his appearance was candy for one’s eyes were in fact not simple rumours at all, you realized - rather than your eyes being focused on the Operation site below and the surrounding area, was not part of the Doctor’s plan.

You would’ve argued again that your distracted state caused by Executor’s close proximity resulting in you failing to notice the hostile crossbowman a few rooftops away with you as his target, until his bolt was already fired and struck into your shoulder, was not part of the Doctor’s plan.

“Ghk!” You gulped down the pained yelp as the arrowhead suddenly pierced into your body, and instead a strained grunt of effort covered over it as you lifted the weapon-bearing arm upward in a swift movement; snapping your eyes off of their spot previously super-glued onto Executor’s face, you narrow your gaze and fix it onto the now-fleeing crossbowman. Trusting your own aim as an Elite Operator, you raise your weapon without much ceremony and fire.

A relieved huff leaves your lungs after the crossbowman crumbles to the ground after your weapon-fire hits him in a direct headshot. That relief was momentary, however, as the sharpened ache throughout your entire arm quickly reminded you of the crossbow bolt in your shoulder.

Executor’s attention was rapt on your form once gravity yanked your body downward and sent your knees to collide harshly with the concrete below you; immediately, he was across the rooftop and wrapping a secure arm around your waist to assist you in sitting onto the ground with your back leaning against the ledge of the rooftop.

“You have been hit with an enemy projectile. Do not move.” His voice left him in a stable tone as expected, while his eyes scanned over your body in search of any further harm, then lingering your injury, before they settled onto your face. Your mouth opened to speak, only to shut when his gaze fixed to yours; a hue of scarlet rose onto your cheeks and your eyes averted from his own, despite that they’d been firmly locked onto him just moments earlier. The heaviness of your embarrassment - you’d just been hit by an enemy, because you were too busy oogling your Squadmate - began to near-smother the ache from your injury.

With confidence, you expected the Sankta to flatly point out your blunder in a tone lowered slightly in disappointment, as he advised you to not repeat the same mistake in the future or remarked that he should’ve declined the Doctor’s suggestion to have you function as his partner for this operation. None of those came, however.

In contrast - stark contrast - to the scenarios you’d imagined, Executor’s facial expression became one of slightly furrowed brows with faint downturn of his lips, and then his voice left him in careful words, “I apologize for my lack of attention to our surroundings. I failed to notice and warn you of the threat in time.” A thoughtful pause, and his eyes flicked to your injury before returning to yours, “I will ensure I do not repeat this mistake on subsequent occasions.”

You blinked, and for a moment you wanted to ask him to repeat what he said because you were certain you must’ve heard it wrong. Your injury had been your own mistake, not his; despite, you had rarely ever heard the Sankta’s voice laced with the sincerity it was as his words of apology left him.

Finally, your voice escaped the grip of your previous embarrassment and you managed a reply, “I-It’s alright. It’s my fault, Executor, I wasn’t paying attention. You don’t have to be concerned about it-” His head tilted to the side, then shook it in a near imperceptible movement, “Negative. The safety of my partner for this Operation is a logical cause for my concern.”

Everyone who knew him would firmly agree that he was not a man who ever said things simply out of courtesy. Therefore, the genuinity of this concern - his concern over you - was undoubtable. He felt wholly and truly responsible, for your injury and for ensuring your safety.

“E-Executor-” Your words vanished from you and your thoughts scattered once more as Executor returned his attention to your injury, “The projectile is not an Originium product, there is no risk of Oripathy Infection.” He angled his head to inspect the site of the injury further, then he continued, “Resulted injury is a puncture wound, estimated to be a few inches in depth. Non-lifethreatening.”

The blue of his irises lost a fraction of its sharpness when his eyes left the arrow bolt in your shoulder to find your own eyes once more, “On-field medical treatment is advised. Rest assured that I am qualified to administer.” If they weren't before already, your eyes were widened incredulously now, “You want to…patch me up?” Executor nodded, “If you will allow me, yes.” Your own nod came in a slow reply, “Yes, I'm okay with that…” His gaze focused onto your injury, “Very well.”

With that, his hands placed, one cupped your shoulder and the other held your arm steady. You half-expected a firm grip, one not aware or not caring of the force it was exerting.

Instead, Executor’s hands were careful, only applying necessary pressure; the warmth of his palms seeped through the thin fabric of his gloves and offered some soothe to the ache of your injury. Were these really the forceful hands that tore the heart out of a beast? The unexpected gentleness of his touch caused heat to rise to your cheeks and your heartbeat to quicken within your ribcage.

This certainly couldn't be the same Executor whom even your fellow Elite Operators were uncomfortable working with because of his callousness. After all, this Executor’s concern for you was evident; in the way he had instantly been at your side the moment he noticed you’d been attacked, in the way he apologized for what he believed to be his failure in protecting you, and in the way was now tending to your injury. ‘Callous’ was antonymous with ‘concern’, it was impossible for him to encapsulate both. You had yet to witness a display of his supposed lack-of-a-heart, and all but witnessed his evidence of one - a heart misread by many and miscommunicated to many, a heart abstruse.

Yes, anyone with eyes could state with confidence that Executor was handsome; it seemed, however, that you were the only who was now being settled upon with the realization that, ‘and he’s a gentleman’.

Your heart was rapid within your chest, your cheeks flushed a pink hue, - and your eyes could not remove themselves from Executor. Any attempt you made to avert your attention failed, as whenever you flicked your gaze away, it still inevitably fixed onto his careful hands, or his assured movements, or his focus-sharpened face. He unearthed a tourniquet from the black bag he had slung around his shoulder, briefly explained to you that he would apply it in order to halt blood flow and limit excessive bleeding.

He carefully set the arm of your injured shoulder to rest across your stomach, a more comfortable position and one that supports the vulnerable limb enough for the time being, “Please maintain this position, and refrain from moving or attempting to use your arm until we rejoin our Squad. A Medic Operator is required to properly attend to your injury.”, All you managed is a high-pitched sound, a “mhm” in reply.

You silently said thank you to the fact that applying the tourniquet on your arm required majority of his focus, else you were aware he would’ve noticed you staring yet again.

Your eyes studied each of his facial features, each line of his face. His eyes didn’t display enough emotion to discern, as they never did, however your closeness allowed you to notice how concentration sharpened them as he twisted the tourniquet and how the city lights illuminated the light blue hue of his irises; the ivory strands of his hair fell slightly into his gaze as he tilted his head down to properly view your injury, and your hand twitched to tuck the straying pieces away back into their place; his pale skin on his face was without blemishes, and you silently argued with yourself over if his cheeks would be cool or warm to the touch.

You didn’t have to continue mentally debating with yourself over it for very long, as your arm not effected by your injury suddenly lifted to allow your hand to cradle his cheek. Warm; the surface of his skin is warm, and under the contact of your palm, you notice his cheek becomes warmer.

Executor stiffened completely to the point of being statuesque, from his hands ceasing their task of securing your tourniquet to his lungs failing to expand with air for a moment; the only movement was of his hair falling to obscure his eyes. You initially mistook his flinch for discomfort, and you almost pulled your hand away in worry that he would push it away himself.

Again, however, Executor averted your expectations.

He tilts his head in a slow and small movement towards your touch, then he slowly allowed his gaze to drift to yours. No words produced from his throat until after a small while, when your code name was uttered from his lips and he continued in words of question, “...What do you require? Is your injury causing you excessive pain, or do you feel abnormal symptoms?” You didn’t provide an answer to his queries, unless what you blurted out next could be called a sufficient answer.

“Executor, you're pretty.”

He did not reply to you, initially. The Sankta remained unmoving, not even a twitch of his fingers or a blink of his eyes, for a long moment; when he finally did move, it was in a series of slow blinks. Then, his lungs suddenly pulled in a curt inhale of air and his eyes widened, albeit so little you would've missed had you not been leaned in closer to him.

“I…” He cleared his throat, “I am unsure what you mean.”

His reply was near priceless, as you didn't think such a straightforward statement would require elaboration; the only other thing you couldn't possibly put a fitting price on was the near-imperceptibly stunned expression that had quickly fallen onto his face.

Chiming with a light giggle, you pressed your hand closer to his cheek and reiterated in a tone firm with insistence, “As in, you're attractive. No wonder everyone in that Engineering Dormitory insists on asking you out non-stop.” Your addendum to your original statement did little to relieve Executor of his puzzled state, and did everything to exacerbate it. “Pardon. I am afraid I do not understand your wording.” His voice was loyal to that which was typical of him, as it did not falter and remained cool as usual; it was his facial features, that betrayed him.

The size of his pupils shrunk as his eyes widened a fraction more, his jaw tightened visibly as he attempted to catch his lips from falling agape, and his eyebrows lowered to knit slightly in a confused furrow. All are changes you had never witnessed on his facial features before, and each new one you noticed began to cause your lips to upturn into a delighted grin. Most especially - the pink hue that faintly dusted his cheeks.

“Oh!” Your exclamation was raised in astonishment; you'd never once seen Executor’s pale cheeks saturated with any colour at all, not on any occasion, not to any person, not in reaction to anything. And yet, they were now flushed a rosy tint. The injury on your shoulder was forgotten completely; elation lifted your heart towards the sky and mirth played across on your facial features.

With glimmering eyes and an exultant smile, your voice melted out of you in a coo lifted with tease, “Now you look really pretty, blushing like that.”

Executor’s cheeks deepened in colour, however after that, you received no further reactions. You wondered if his brain abruptly quit functioning when it received your words, unfamiliar words that it failed to process; his gaze didn’t leave your face for even a glance, his facial expression froze in wide eyes and flushed cheeks, and he halted all his movement, somehow even including the natural movements of his blackened halo and wings.

Much to your even further amusement, you were reminded of when the Rhodes Island computer terminals displayed the error with the blue screen that instructed to restart the device.

#i've always found it really funny how Executor is canonly considered v handsome sbshbs 😭 so I wanted to include that here....!#arknights #arknights imagines #arknights executor #arknights x reader #arknights executor x reader #executor arknights #arknights imagine #arknights fanfic #arknights fanfics #arknights writing #federico arknights #arknights federico #federico giallo #imagine #imagines #fanfic #fanfics #writing

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scintillyyy · 5 months

Text

actually there is another super interesting way in which you can tell dixon is trying to narratively reward steph for her perserverence (aside from writing her to fit his sexist worldview and rewarding her for that) & almost the... "pick oneself up by their bootstraps and succeed no matter your circumstances and what barriers there may be" narrative he kind of has for her and that is with the evolving nature of her social class through her appearances while he writes her imo (the ultimate bootstraps story that conservatives love) (which also contributes to the vast difference of interpretations of steph's economic status)

so honestly, in her first appearance in detective comics #647-649 she is very much coded as coming from a background of lower class/working poor/welfare stereotypes with a criminal father and an addict mother.

their house is visibly run down & not taken care of. crystal is emaciated and wears a robe all day/doesn't bother to get dressed, doctor shops for pills, and is whiny about how she'll get sicker without the prescription pills she's addicted to (you know nothing about crystal's initial aesthetics screams welfare queen imagery to me, tbh. they certainly don't seem to be implied to be "scamming the system just to live it up on steaks and lobster" and dixon would be way more overt about welfare fraud. i would call this more "white trash poor person" imagery as i imagine he sees it.).

interestingly though is the framing of steph by dixon as incredibly positive in comparison to her surroundings. in a way she's conceived as someone who is fighting against the poor circumstances that she was born into--she's going to be spoiler and rise above her criminal father and compared to her mother who can't be bothered to get dressed because she's always high, steph's going to dress nicely. those jeans she's wearing? that back pattern pocket is pretty iconically calvin klein. those were like. status symbol jeans of the 90s. now i'm not here to argue about affordability indicating she's way richer than she actually is here, because this was the 90s and steph very much could have afforded nice clothes and a vespa for herself on her summer/part-time job (in fact the clothes she wears on her vespa are pretty implied to be some sort of part-time job uniform), but it's a very interesting contrast that dixon draws, especially considering his biases. like you can tell he thinks that steph is in no way responsible for her circumstances (it's not her fault that her dad is a criminal and her mom is an addict) & and that being born into her circumstances don't mean she's doomed to end up like them--as long as she works hard and does the right thing, she'll be rewarded. in this case, she'll present herself as higher class/act classier than her unfortunate surroundings (via her external presentation of herself--she'll work hard and get the things she deserves for her hard work and effort) & resoundingly reject following her criminal father's footsteps by becoming the spoiler in order to cement herself as Not Like That. like he went out of his way to make her circumstances be more stereotypically poor and then show her as being above all that. she's the noble poor to her unfortunate white trash circumstances. (which is in line with dixon's classism and conservative viewpoint that it's okay to be poor, as long as you're white and don't act like those people do and hate your circumstances/are motivated to rise above them).

and this thread of how crystal is/stephanie's circumstances continues through crysal's next two appearances in robin #3 and showcase '95 #5 (though this was was written by keri kowalski, not dixon). she's still presented with very stereotypical aesthetics: she's never dressed, at this point, it's not implied she works...

and again, you can tell that dixon likes steph despite the fact that he wrote her as poor in her initial appearances because he often writes her as though he considers her above her circumstances (because those aren't her fault and she's working hard to not be like that).

the interesting thing is how this evolves once crystal kicks her addiction. which. frankly, i don't believe we ever see exactly when this happens? she's still an addict in showcase '95, but by her next appearance in robin #43 in 1997, she seems to. certainly be different than she was portrayed in her few initial appearances and appears to probably be sober at this point.

she's well put together and clearly employed, a far cry from the initial imagery dixon initially used for her. now it doesn't say she's a nurse here, just that she works at the hospital, but the white shoes and dress are an imagery giveaway. and now making steph's mom a nurse is actually kind of a soft retcon of her previously implied situation and a pretty interesting one at that because nursing--nursing and teaching occupations back in the 80s and 90s (and even today for nursing) iirc were considered good jobs to the middle class, on account of them being professional and steady jobs that required a degree of some sort that couldn't be automated or sent overseas (and there's a shortage, they need nurses!), like other jobs that were being lost at the time. so by making her mom a nurse, dixon was explicitly cementing their family circumstances as middle class as opposed to implied poor like their very initial appearances (or even what might've been considered "working class" at the time by certain economic theories, given that nursing isn't necessarily considered an "unskilled" job and does require college + it may be considered a pink collar job but in general there's good job security so it's such a gray area) (forgive my use of quotations here, i don't personally believe that jobs are unskilled and that the working class is a nebulous term that is illdefined and covers many different jobs with vastly different potential salary opportunities. a union working class electrician could very well be upper middle class based on salary, low cost of living, and lack of debt compared to someone who works at minimum wage, lives in a HCOL area, and has 75k in college loans but both are considered working class because they provide labor for wages) (i'm thinking of a 90s working class that was viewed between the middle class and the poor that consisted of a lot of what people considered blue collar or routizined work, but again, that means almost nothing in terms of salary potential and economic opportunity. plumber and warehouse worker are both considered blue collar, but their economic circumstances can vastly differ, but i digress-)

which is actually a pretty interesting evolution to her initial implied socioeconomic circumstances. because if her mom is a nurse & has a middle class job, then their economic issues previously weren't necessarily just that they were poor. it's that they were middle class fallen on hard times. which also coincides with the shift in the 90s where people were starting to be frightened of the middle class getting ravaged by the opioid/drug crisis. so now crystal isn't a stereotypical poor white trash addict, she's a middle-class worker who fell on hard times. and if they were struggling with finances, it wasn't that they were poor, it was more to do with struggling on account of crystal's addictions and having to deal with steph's dad/pay for him/he used their money and house for his villainy. and you end up because of this retcon having this issue where yea, she was initially presented as poor. but for the vast majority of her appearances, when she more consistently started to have a presence, she's written as middle class fallen on hard times. and you get this dissonance in her reading where it's like, yea, at the beginning, she was poor (and in far more stereotypical circumstances), so you can't say she never struggled financially. but also to claim she's just poor is to go against a lot of imagery that indicates more of a lower middle class (middle class, but struggling/tighter finances/no significant wiggle room), such as having a mom who's a nurse, having a home computer, etc. and in this case i really don't think this was just a case of dixon not knowing how to write a poor person (though that's definitely somewhat involved, this is dixon after all), because the choice of profession for her mother and giving her access to a home computer in the 90s and the overall improvement of her perceived home environment as the series progressed do seem like a deliberate choice on dixon's part. he probably would have known that nursing was considered a "good, steady" job to have.

anyways, i don't necessarily think this retcon is. necessarily worst thing in the world. it's much less stereotypical than poor/bad people are in poor/bad situations because of their choices and it acknowledges that people in all socioeconomic tiers can struggle with issues like crime and addiction.

alright, continuing on. there's an interesting thread in the steph pregnancy arc that has crystal ruminate on how steph ended up that way because crystal was a bad influence for marrying arthur and the pills. but because chuck has decided that the browns are more lower middle class than straight lower class there's a bit of a redemption/reimagining of his initial poor view of crystal once she gets sober and a marked improvement in the appearance of their socioecomonic status. take robin #58 for example.

crystal gets to support and affirm steph, be present (unlike her initial appearances). and in robin #84 after she's aware of steph's going out as spoiler after having recently found the spoiler costume (and trying to put her down about it--compared to when steph was doing spoiler stuff in the kitchen and her mom didn't even notice because she was high) and the visual design of the inside of their their house has definitely improved from run down to standard middle class, fairly nice looking.

which again feels fairly deliberate to me. because it doesn't just seem like dixon not understanding what it means to be poor, there's a deliberate moving of steph's socioeconomic status up more towards middle class once her mom gets sober which i feel like aligns nicely with chuck's viewpoint that if you're poor, you're poor because of bad choices and once you make good choices you can settle back into relative comfort.

and notably he gives even bigger reward to crystal for kicking her habit and make better choices and renouncing her husband's criminal ways (when she found out steph was spoiler and turned him in she was like "hah, serves him right"--compare this to when she was implied to be visiting him in steph's first appearance and she was being presented poorly): she, like steph, will now get sympathy for being put in a situation out of her control and the hard times that have fallen upon them. in robin #93 and #94 arthur comes home and parks himself there and nobody likes it.

and yea, they're shown to be struggling--crystal doesn't have extra money laying around to hire a lawyer to kick our her husband--a long, arduous, expensive process (+in robin #94 she's shown as being fed up with the court process as well). but rather than her being treated bad by narrative for not having money, she's presented quite sympathetically. she doesn't want them there or have anything to do with them. she's a hardworking, middle class woman who maybe fell on hard times because of her past addictions and having a criminal husband, but because she did the right thing and got clean and renounced those ways. she's not being seen as culpable to the situation--she's being seen as a victim of it this time. anyways, dixon eventually resolves the situation by sending dinah over to kick out the villains inhabiting her home, which shows that he thinks that they're (crystal and steph) deserving of being saved from the circumstances that keep them down (because they're hardworking people who are actively trying to get out of their situation and better themselves). and it aligns quite nicely with his conservative view of the world, that people who work hard get rewarded for their hard work and good things happen to them.

like i'm not going to pretend that the browns are rich by any means. they're clearly not. but there's an interesting way in which dixon improves steph's class as a reward for her perserverence. the last mention we get of any potential class by dixon is her conversation with tim in robin #100 where tim is catastrophizing about the loss of his money (which i know is nagl), but it also doesn't exactly imply she's poor and she's not exactly mad at him for being tone-deaf. she's just matter of fact about not understanding the big deal--just that she fights crime on a budget. so it's more her way of telling tim that he doesn't have to worry about the money thing/going down to middle class when it comes to being robin--after all, she's done just fine as spoiler by being smart with her money. which is actually fairly in line with dixon's viewpoint that if you make good decisions with your money, you'll do just fine and can/should afford to do what you want.

his biases and politics are sooo obvious with the browns tbh. all in all, the way he writes the browns (crystal & stephanie) wrt class i get a lot of flavors of that stupid fucking hillbilly elegy book. they're not poor welfare recipients because they're the true, hardworking people who deserve to be middle class. they were down on their luck and made bad decisions and had unfortunate things happen to them (arthur, crystal's addiction), but they overcame that like good hardworking americans (became spoiler, got sober) and as a result their economic situation improves as god intended. anyways, like i said before. it makes it so hard to be like "yea, steph was poor!" without leaning into dixon's stereotypes of poor people (addiction, criminality) and when he does write them as poor/struggling he writes them as the "true poor" "the good poor people who would never depend on aid, they just work hard to reject their circumstances and elevate themselves as they should". but it's also hard to uncomplicatedly say she was middle class, because despite being presented as lower middle class for a lot of her appearances, it's also another part of dixon's classism that has him improving their economic class over time because it's an improvement inexorably linked to his belief that hardworking americans can just pull themselves up by their bootstraps because he shows steph and crystal doing just that.

& i think of how it was initially dixon's idea to maybe make steph robin in a storyline & i can't help but feel that's almost a continuation/conclusion of the bootstraps narrative he has for steph.

idk it's just hard for me to say that dixon looked down on steph for being poor/being lower middle class because her story of self-improvement is so tied to the conservative belief of upward mobility with hard work. it's extremely classist. and yet it's still there. on the paper.

bonus, just to prove he sees them (the browns) as a lower middle class family who wouldn't be struggling so much if the government would just stop taking all their money in taxes:

#listen tim gets to be a dixon mouthpiece a lot to extoll the virtues of the rich #but the browns are also very much written as his way of extolling the 'poor dears plighted by taxes to pay for the poors' lower middle clas #and it's hard to be like well that's unrealistic when that socioeconomic class has gotten convinced of the ideals of conservatism #it's just another one of the unfortunate realities of her creation and the fact that she was dixon's darling #no matter which way you perceive her...classism and conservative ideals of economics are involved

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