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#if you're not here it's not because i like you any less!!
anantaru · 2 days
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⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ sugar never tasted so good
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synopsis. ⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ you know that xiao has a soft spot for you, even when you show up to the wangshu inn uninvited // ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝⸝⸝ᐢ꒱ ♡
cw. oral (fem! receiving), fingering, dirty talk, xiao is a tease <3 fem! reader ♡
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it was supposed to be a quick stop to the wangshu inn, to see if xiao was doing alright, no more and no less— after all, you haven't seen nor heard of him for a couple of weeks and had began to worry to the point where you had to consciously tell yourself to stop overthinking that something terrible happened.
not unexpectedly, the yaksha didn't necessarily harbor a strong liking towards your (secretly precious) habit of showing up uninvited to his place, and in any other case he would debate wether or not to show himself whenever you do come to visit him.
you do not know of it, but xiao tends to hope you show up, yet he pretends to dislike it in order to sewer any form of attachment towards your person.
although tonight, well, such was a different story because the mere sight of you had xiao weak in the knees— he could never admit it to you, but you've got him utterly captivated, not to mention, it has been a while since you both were able to get close to one another.
so to say he was frustrated was undermining the severity of his current emotions.
"oh, fuck, xiao..." your head drops into the silky pillows as his hands return safe and soundly to your writhing skin, he instantly places his palms under your knees in order to lift them just enough to slide your panties down, leaving them to lazily dangle around your ankle.
xiao rasps at the look of your damp pussy as he grunts your name under his ragged breathing, his solid erection twitching quicker as he settles between your legs. his eyes curiously glance along your glistening folds as he laps at his lips to turn them all soused and soft for you.
your muscles tense with liquid lust, your teeth clenched and fists balled into the disheveled sheets as xiao experimentally kisses over the little hood of your clit— one kiss, then a second, before parting his mouth to wrap himself around your precious pearl, shamelessly sucking and slurping the sensitive bundles inside his warmth.
like a magnet, you keep your gaze on his own and moan feverishly as you involuntarily buck your hips into his mouth.
"relax—" xiao mumbles into your cunt as his tongue trails over the plush of your folds, "is this why you came here? you wanted me to do this again?" the yaksha hums wetly against your aching core, his demeanor overly confident, "didn't know you were so filthy, hmm, so impatient too," he tilts his head to the side and flips one finger across your sloppy folds, smirking when your body twitches away.
to coax out one syllable after the other, the yaksha continues to use his hand and prances one digit over your folds before inserting one into you slowly, expertly pressing it through your tightness as you gasp at a fullness embracing your walls.
you fuse into him instantly, your pussy quivering around one digit as his eyes wander up to your chest, watching how you squeeze and play with your soft breasts.
you whimper when he slides in knuckles deep but alas, helplessly sob at the lack of tempo entangled in his thrusts, as to signalize you his urgent need of taking his time with you.
why hurry up your pleasure when xiao can tease you all night until you're begging for it? begging for him?
"enjoying yourself?" xiao watches your ever-changing faces, "i can tell you know, you're so wet here," he shamelessly slurps at your clit, a dark shadow casted over his eyes as he focuses on how your lips purse together when he flicks his tip between your folds and back to your clit, right with your clenching hole being stuffed by now, two slender fingers.
"n-need more, you feel so good xiao," you praise him on purpose— knowing it turns him on while having a desperate whine in your voice, your mouth falling open when he brazenly smirks into your cunt.
xiao breathes, hisses and holds your hips still by roughly pressing them into the mattress, "don't you stop showing me how you feel, don't you fucking dare,"
your tits jiggle as you abruptly arch your back the second he nudges the tip of his tongue against your clit and flicks it up and down, your hips swaying as he lets you use his wet muscle as you please.
in secret, xiao liked, no, loved when you were rough with him, almost territorial, it makes him feel like he's doing a good job in stimulating his darling.
with your lips bitten raw and eyes criss crossed, you hold his head and weave your fingers into his hair as you filthily grind your pussy across his mouth, up and down, up and down, smearing your slick over his cheeks and chin as your mind coasts to the feeling of his tongue stimulating you.
every warm lap of tongue makes your body feel like it's breaking beneath xiao's strong hold, his digits scissoring your hole as the other holds you close to his face before you move your hips to draw circles against his mouth, secretly admitting to yourself that;
yes, you got caught, you might've really visited him for this specific reason.
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©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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uravitypng · 2 days
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Shameless smut for atsumu with a chubby reader?👉🏼👈🏼
you ask and i deliver <333 (because i can't help myself when it comes to writing about tsumu asdfghjk.) there may be some mistakes in this, it's only something short i wrote so hopefully you like this short shameless smut everyone !! i love atsumu with a chubby reader, here's a full fic i did with atsumu and a chubby reader (x)
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"tsumu we're going to be late! our reservations are at half seven, we're meeting all the others in less than an hour." you're meant to be celebrating a msby win with the team and their partners but instead you're laying in your shared bed with your fiancee with your dress bunched up.
"don't blame me. it's yer fault for looking so hot. you can't blame me when my wife looks so good."
"wife? not yet." you try and pull your dress back down but atsumu isn't having it and swats your hand away, not letting you.
"shut yer trap, ya know what i mean." while keeping your dress bunched up he runs his large hands over your thick thighs, enjoying your soft skin underneath his hands.
you giggle at his response but your laugh is cut off as he places a kiss over your clothed clit making you gasp. " 's not my fault when you look so hot in that dress, clinging to all your curves like that. you're making me go crazy." he pulls down your underwear and throws them somewhere behind them not taking any notice to where, "we can be a little late."
"a little?" you snort as you stare of in the direction of your discarded clothes. he smirks and kisses your hip, pulling down your dress too at the top so that your tits are on display and your dress is only covering the middle part of your body. atsumu pulls down your bra and gropes your breasts.
"this is stupid," he says suddenly before he starts pulling up your dress to take it off completely and moves up to face you so he can look at how pretty you are.
"i thought you said it looked hot?" you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down to kiss him.
"you do! ya just look better with it off," he smirks and allows you to pull him down. kissing messily, all tongue and teeth, clashing , right in the moment, he just can't help himself when it comes down to you and you're not one to complain just as swept up around atsumu as he is with you.
his clothes come off just as rushed as yours did, hastily pulling down his jeans and boxers all at once. he quickly threw them behind him too, getting the same treatment as your clothes did.
atsumu lifted your thigh up, resting his palm at the bottom, where he's slung your thigh over his shoulder and he's folding your body as he plunges his fat cock into you. your wet heat envelops him and he groans, "jesus baby, i love you s'much."
he ruts into you hard and fast, causing your plush body to jiggle with each thrust and atsumu doesn't know where to look, you look like a goddess in his eyes and every inch of you is perfect he just doesn't know where to look. your tummy rolls that are squished together, your breasts that freely bounce without any bra, your cute face and chubby cheeks, your pretty pussy that keeps sucking him back in with every thrust, not wanting him to go, leaving a creamy ring at the base of his cock with every thrust. he can't decide where to look- you're perfect.
you admire how handsome your fiancee is above you, bleached dyed hair that's became messy after him jumping on you, a light sheen of sweat covers his forehead and his lips plump, looking slightly swollen from how much you've been kissing. you reach a hand up and tug his hair, pulling him down so he's close enough for you to kiss again and you do kiss.
one hand is still holding onto your thigh occasionally squeezing the softness making him harder. his other hand is holding onto one of your hands, fingers intertwined. "love you too 'tsumu!" you moan and you're gripping onto his hand even tighter.
you turn up to dinner late, very late.
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igotanidea · 1 day
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Somebody's watching me : AK!Jason x reader
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Request: AK! jason hears y/n’s name from his opponent and just goes nuts like he goes home looking for her.
A/N : the requests is a little twisted, as usual, but I hope you'll still like it anon :D
***
It was gone.
His old life was gone.
And with it, everyone he knew before.
All that was left was revenge, hate, rage. And this unstoppable need for killing someone, destroy something, wreck havoc on every single person who did him any wrong.
Bruce.
Fucking Batman.
He was the Arkham Knight now.
Nothing more, nothing less.
Focused on building his position so that no one, no fucking one, would ever hold any power over him.
And if that meant keeping tabs on everyone under his watchful gaze so be it.
And if that meant putting some pressure on everyone who dared to do as much as step a toe over the line, so be it.
And disturbances?
Defnitely not something he was about to allow.
And now he was holding a gun to one of his goons head.
"What did you do?" he hissed, his voice distorted by the helmet
"Sir, I --"
"What did you do?" Jason repeated pressing the metal more into man's head.
"I-- I disobeyed--"
"You disobeyed. And do you know what happens to people who disobey me?"
"Sir, please this is--"
Jason shot in the air and the man almost fell to his feet.
"It was-"
"I'm not going to give a warning shot again"
"I was-"
"I'm gonna count to three now. One."
"There's this girl."
"Two."
"Her name is Y/N."
"thr-- what?"
"She is very distant family, but --"
"Shut up!" Jason yelled, his face twisted with rage, not that anyone could see his expression hidden under the metal. "Shut the fuck up you hear me!" it took him two steps to be in front of the man, yanking him up by the collar and pinning to the wall with brutal force, half-chocking him "you ever do as much as think her name again and I'll kill you and put your head on a stick as a warning to anyone who dare have a thought of himself. YOU HEAR ME!?"
"y-ye-yes..."
"now get the fuck out of here!" the man was violently thrown on the floor, getting up as fast as he could and rushing out the door. It was truly a miracle he lived to tell the tale, cause Arkham Knight was not known for his leniency.
But Y/N.
Someone from his past.
More than someone.
A girl, a woman, he was once in love with.
A woman, whose name he forgot in the pursuit after Batman.
Or rather - tried to forget.
She was the only one who ever got him. The only one to accept him fully, with all his flaws.
His Y/N.
His Y/N who betrayed him just like anyone else. Who forgot him. Who moved on without giving as much as a single thought to him when he was lost. Who was never looking for him.
His Y/N.
It;s been years since he heard anyone mention her. Years since he swore to never get manipulated again.
And then.
Just a few letters mixed together. Just a few sounds.
And she was right behind his eyes, just like he remembered her. Because even his dark side refused to let go of the rememberance of their time together.
Her laugh. Her smile. Her eyes and freckles from the sun, as fleeting as the summer days they were spending together. Her calmness, care and tenderness when she was patching up his woudns, tiredlessly putting on bandaids and stitches.
Fuck!
He didn't need that.
Just another phase of brainwashing. If not from his capturers than from his own men.
Hell no.
He was going to say no to the past life once and for all.
Hunting her down, wherever she may be.
See her for the last time.
Pour hatred in his heart, destroying all the remaining piece of useless softness and caring he carried in his soul.
Burn the last link connecting him to the past down.
***
She was spending the night in her old apartment. Sitting by the same desk, with the same lamp, in the same posture she ever did.
One leg half bent and folded under her ass, the other hanging loose in the air.
"You're going to end up with numbness..." he muttered to himself, watching her from the opposite rooftop.
Obviously she couldn;t hear him, but something made her raise her head and look outside the window while simultaniously changing the position.
Jason smiled despite himself.
His heart skipped a beat and sudden warmth spread in his chest.
Only for a second though, since he rememembered why he was here in the first place.
Look at her.
So fucking good.
So fucking calm and happy, while he-
fuck!
traitorous bitch.
Maybe it was her plan from the very beggining. Conspiring with Batman only to get rid of him, so they could both be free of the burdening presence of a man once known as Jason Todd.
Y/N...
Regardless of how sweet her name may have tasted on his tongue he would rather cut it off than fall down that rabit hole again.
He was cold as ice. Brutal. Cruel. Ruthless.
And it was not going to change because he saw her.
Not in the million years.
She was the reason of his fallout. She should have stopped him from going on that stupid mission. She should have made him stay, showed him she cared enough to keep him grounded.
It was all her fault that that after being captured all he could think about was how she was going to survive without him. How her heart would break into million pieces, instead of figuring out a way to free himself.
It was all her fault that he became the Arkham Knight. Cause inhumanity was equal with survival. And survival meant living. And living meant keeping his legacy.
So yes, he hated her.
He hated her, because every single thing he did and every little thing done to him was because and thanks to her.
She was the reason of him getting on top, but also the person responsible for his failure as a person.
She was nothing.
She was everything.
And for the first time since capturing, torturing and tranformation Jason felt conflicted.
Y/N...
His Y/N...
Not his anymore...
***
When some force made her stand up and come to window all she saw was a blink of metal on the rooftop. And since she spend half of her life with vigilantes, it was easy to realise that this must have been one of them.
But the silhouette of a running man couldn;t have been Dick nor Tim nor any other hero she would recognise.
And despite herself, she felt a shiver running down her spine.
Someone was watching her.
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What if Rafal couldn't save Rhian in time? Like Vulcan successfully stabbed him with the pen before Rafal could prevent it?
The comedic answer is that I have one word for you: gibbeting.
That's the more "fun" answer, a form of medieval execution/torture, which was specifically intended to make an example of someone, publicly, to deter further criminal acts, and if Vulcan murdered Rhian, well, he deserves the worst death possible! And why not make it a creative one? However, I think, to an extent, that gibbeting could be too extreme, and that Rafal would recognize that if Rhian were alive, he'd view it as an eyesore, tasteless, or simply too brutal, so it's probably unlikely to happen. But, Rafal might not be above it, considering that the Doom Room exists, so it could go either way, potentially.
Plus, there's some added, bonus "fun" here, in how a certain canon moment would come full circle. Vulcan put Rafal in a birdcage (while he was a black sparrow), and now, Rafal would get the pleasure of hanging Vulcan (or rather, his slowly dying and later, decomposing body) up in a cage, a pretty neat form of revenge, if I do say so myself, haha! Besides, Vulcan was a bit exhibitionistic, wasn't he? So, this would also make for an ironical fate.
Now for the serious answer. I hope you don't mind it if I get a little more subjective/personal with this one at some point. It's not quite as much an overblown, narrative-style post, and may be more understated than usual.
I took this "what if" ask to essentially mean: how would Rafal react to Rhian's death and how would he mourn Rhian over time? If I misinterpreted your ask, and this wasn't the kind of response you were expecting, please let me know. Also, everything is speculative, of course, so take my interpretations with a grain of salt. I'm open to hearing other opinions!
I think Rafal's immediate, knee-jerk reaction would probably be to murder Vulcan as revenge, but also it would serve the more practical reason of disposing of the tyrant usurper, ousting him from the School permanently. However, I don't think Rafal would find catharsis in it, not this time at least, considering why he is doing it.
He'd have to act on his feet, and quickly, because, Vulcan would still pose a threat to his own life, which would force Rafal to delay any kind of visceral, emotional reaction.
That is why I think the murder would be done instantaneously because speed is more important, and so is getting the task done right. And, having Vulcan dead sooner for everyone's safety is more important than the potential brutality of any kind of gruesome catharsis Rafal could derive from the act. That's why I think Rafal would go about performing this particular murder in a less sadistic fashion, for once, like how Vulcan died in canon by a stab wound, versus the time when Rafal turned Rufius to gold and shattered him, or did worse to others, generally. If Vulcan had simply been a foe who was already incapacitated, that could've given Rafal the opportunity to go for a worse form of murder, but Vulcan isn't harmless.
Thus, employing a "kinder" form of murder in this instance wouldn't be out of sympathy for Vulcan, but more so, to fulfill an urgent need. And, in some sense, the act of murder would be done out of a kind of duty to Rhian, for Rhian's sake and nothing more. I think Rafal deriving pleasure/catharsis out of this murder could possibly be a bit of a slight to Rhian's memory because this is somber business.
Then, after that adrenaline or rage-fueled clarity and the action taken, I think Rafal would next probably feel some kind of uncomprehending fog next because Rhian was suddenly ripped away from him with little warning. His supposedly immortal brother, who was supposed to be with him forever, just died. To an extent, that has to feel surreal.
The surreal feeling could start out as a detached, dissociated feeling, like the kind of out-of-body experience where you're like a third-person observer, (probably a similar feeling as a panic attack?) Like, what? What has my life become? Rhian is suddenly gone, for good.
(The revelation of Rhian's death being real could also prompt a lot of thought as to why their bond wasn't able to save or revive Rhian, and could evoke guilt.)
Once Rafal processes the implications of Rhian's death, his initial outburst could be the most, actual, unbridled emotion he lets out, at all, if ever—maybe, one raw, primal scream of agony into the ether and that’s it. (Yet, I'm also tempted to say, that's too dramatic of a reaction, even for him. As interesting as it is to go to extremes in other cases, I'm attempting to go for something closer to realism here, so bear with me.)
While there is probably a narrow chance, that under the exact, right conditions, he could be driven insane or become an extremist in some way, out of guilt or by how ridiculously unjust the whole situation would be, I think it's a little more plausible that Rafal would just bury himself in his work. He could devote his life to Evil, and still keep it in balance with Good, without Rhian there to keep him in check, even if he was more often the one to keep Rhian in check, from what we saw. (He could also become disillusioned with the world and the Pen.)
Given how I view Rafal, I think he would shut down emotionally but not functionally. He wouldn't let himself dwell on the grief for long, and he might even (irrationally) resent Rhian for dying, at first, on the surface, because he's now got twice the work. And yet, the work would be a welcome distraction from his actual grief.
Additionally, I think Rafal would become numb and immune to all emotional appeals from other people. Not even a trick like Hook reminding him of Rhian would work to convince him to change his mind that he's already made up in any future instance. He's never, never investing himself in the fate of another person again. Not when he could lose them. He just... does his job. Someone has to do it after all.
That said, I think his paranoia level would absolutely skyrocket, too, as a result of the whole Vulcan incident, and that he'd isolate himself more than he already did before.
Now comes the part where this may or may not take a weird turn, and I could be projecting with what I'm about to say, but I think I have actual reason to apply it to Rafal, purely out of thinking it could make sense for him, (as just one of the many possible ways he could take Rhian's death. Again, this is all just my speculation. I could easily be wrong, so keep that in mind.)
Ok, I'm not sure if this is a common or a weird thing to think and I had a feeling it could be controversial. Thus, I'm going to preface it with this: my intention is not to sound callous, but...
I (usually) do not miss people when they are gone. (Death is different from just absence though.)
I doubt that I "miss" people in what is the typical way, from what I have heard from others? Though, I have an explanation. Obviously, it depends, but missing others doesn't occupy my every waking thought. (And thoughts about fictional characters are a different type of thought to arise.)
I feel others' presence when they’re around, and when they’re not around, unless I'm concerned for them, I don’t exactly think about them. It's kind of "out of sight, out of mind," except for the cases in which I actually am holding something to say to them in mind for our next encounter.
I’m sorry if this is strange, but I think that’s how I operate most of the time. I don't "wait around" for people to return because I always have some thing to occupy myself with. Can anyone relate?
I suspect that the reason why is because, to me, missing someone is what I would classify as an active feeling. When someone I love is apart from me, I'm usually busy, regardless of whether they're present or not (that doesn't change), and I know that when you're busy, you don't have the time to feel, at least not active emotions. They just... don't occur to you? Or maybe they are not conscious?
Now, from my view of things, if something you feel becomes a problem, and interferes with your daily functioning or general contentment with everyday life, that could very well surface as a real reaction or outburst. But, that's an entirely different matter. I also think that I am reminded of people at times, but that I usually don't "miss" them without there being some kind of (internal or external) stimuli that causes me to think about them.
Maybe, I'm just projecting onto Rafal too much because I relate to him over other characters, and this is silly, or junk psychoanalysis, but it seemed to fit his character also???
Sometimes, I just want recognition more than I want actual companionship since I don't get lonely. I wonder what that says about me? That I'm an introvert, or lazy because relationships require regular maintenance to sustain them? I promise I'm not a misanthrope!
Ok, back to Rafal. He's sunken himself into his work and as such, he wouldn't actively miss Rhian. (If anyone would like more clarification, I'm not saying he wouldn't grieve Rhian at all. It's not that.)
And, if we're going down a more realistic than dramatic route, he wouldn’t lose his sense of self, or his mind over Rhian. Yes, not even Rhian. I think the only thing keeping him running and tethered to his life would be his commitment to the School/keeping himself alive.
What this makes me think of is how people romanticize grief or unrequited love, how they may end up looking wan and eventually wasting away (well, if we're talking about being heartsick in literary/symbolic contexts...). And, I just don't think Rafal would be the type of person to fall into some kind of "madness" or melancholic malady. Grief just wouldn’t be so debilitating or all-consuming to him because he wouldn’t let it do that to him. He wouldn’t stop eating or sleeping as I would expect these behaviors more from someone like Rhian, not him.
Similarly, he might not indulge in pleasurable things, but he’s a bit of an ascetic already anyway, so that’s that. He could potentially renounce pleasurable things in life out of mourning, in a traditional way, but I doubt that would happen either, to be honest. It probably wouldn't cross his mind. At least, it wouldn't happen on a formal, conscious level, even if he could very well deprive himself without realizing it.
I just don't think Rafal would be engulfed by grief, simply because he isn’t that much of an emotionally driven person or that vulnerable to being swept up by personal tragedy, when compared to Rhian, who's more "wild." He’d only let his grief manifest so far, assuming his emotions do still remained locked down and under his control.
So, while he may think about Rhian regularly, he might just accept the fact of Rhian's death, carry on, and not miss him because Rafal missing Rhian could (implicitly) mean becoming non-functional due to grief (or guilt) and that would be too great of a risk for Rafal to take, considering his current reality alone. Basically, to let himself wallow in those emotions would be an unnecessary "risk," from his viewpoint. That's why he might repress that reflective type of thought.
Such feelings would be too much mess or potential disorder for someone like him, especially if he realized he couldn't keep them contained, and they, as a consequence, actually jeopardized his fate or the School's, assuming the grief made him unable to perform his job properly.
(He'd probably subtly resent the Storian as well, for not preserving Rhian's life.)
Also, one small point: in canon, was his bond with Rhian really, truly all-consuming? Let's stop and ask ourselves that for a moment.
Yes, for a time, their bond may have seemed like it was priority no. 1, but Rafal was apart from Rhian for six months, and might not have consciously missed him, if it took him that long to return after getting an external reminder from his interactions with Hook. It might have taken something outside of himself (like the prophecy) for him to come to the realization that he had to return and reestablish his loyalty to Rhian (which was arguably never gone, just dormant for a while). And this would mean that if left alone to his own devices, had he never been moved by James, or "awakened" and been made aware by Adela Sader, he could have taken longer than even six months to return... if he ever decided to at all, if the thought ever arose in the first place.
So, overall, it would only be rarely, when he has nothing to occupy himself with, that Rafal would grieve in some quiet way, and over time, the grief would fade. It wouldn't leave him entirely, but it would diminish, I think, the more and more he distances himself from everything else.
Also, in canon, I suspect that he lies to himself about how much he cares for Rhian. He never shows Rhian much affection, but he sacrifices his life for him, on instinct, which probably means a grieving Rafal would also lie to himself about how “little” he mourns Rhian. In reality, he’d probably mourn Rhian a great deal more than he could know, but wouldn’t have enough self-awareness to realize it.
Perhaps, at night, he would be haunted by Rhian's memory, and take on Rhian's insomniac trait on occasion. Also, to credit @cursed-daydreamer, I think it would be plausible for Rafal to take on a few of Rhian's traits, unconsciously, to compensate for the loss, and fill his void; it could be a way of keeping Rhian's presence in his life.
Lastly, I doubt that Rafal would publicly erect monuments or dedicate anything to Rhian. He wouldn’t want a painful, visual reminder around. His rituals, if we were to call them that, any form of remembrance, I mean, would likely be private, away from prying eyes and students. Rafal wouldn't want to come across as weak or sentimental. That’s the last thing he needs at the moment, a ruined reputation, another so-called threat to his own life/power. Because, increased paranoia could lead him to believe that if he were to show any sign of vulnerability, more "Vulcans" could prey on him and the School.
He could maintain the cherry blossom trees though, but it'd always be a sobering occasion, and he'd never take the credit.
Besides that, he probably wouldn’t go eulogizing his brother or canonizing him. He can still recognize Rhian's flaws, and to praise Rhian so completely would be "too much," too public, and the performative (or contrived) nature of certain mourning customs like those would probably strike him as "wrong" because they just seem... insincere. I don't think Nevers (if we're assuming Rafal remains Evil) put as much much stock in praise anyway, according to their value system.
The exception to the rule would probably be if he recognized that it would be Rhian's wish, to receive some recognition or a dedication. Then, he would do it, out of reverence, I think. He'd have reason to "excuse" it (Rhian's dying wishes), unlike visible emotions, which don't have an excuse to be felt.
Also, I was wondering: does anyone agree or disagree? I'm really curious because this ask provoked a train of thought I'd never considered before!
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moonydustx · 6 hours
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Hi, I was wondering if you could do Zoro, Luffy, Ace, Mihawk, and Lucci as well as Crocodile x Reader, what if the reader, one day tells them that they are pregnant, how would they react/ How would they be as parents? ( also maybe add some parenting shenanigans, knowing these guys.)
OMG! You have no idea how much I loved your request. I know, I know, it took me a looooong time to respond. But after a few migraines (and anxiety), I'm back. I was already thinking about doing something like that, but I was lacking some kind of inspiration so thanks <3 Maybe I got carried away with writing, I'm terrible at summaries and things like that , but I hope you like it.
The structure is kind of: them discovering the pregnancy, them dealing with the pregnancy and a small hint of how they deal with the children.
Warnings are placed individually in each story.
I'm dividing it into two parts so as not to be exhaustive. (I'm sorry, I reaaaally got carried away writing it).
PART 2 HERE - Lucci, Mihawk and Crocodile.
Zoro
Warnings: Fluuuff, super fluff. F!Reader has a bad health at the beginning of this one. Sanji is Zoro's daughter's favorite person for food reasons.And of course, Zoro is protective and jealous (especially towards the little girl).
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It should have just been a momentary relief, you didn't expect the little escapades between you and Zoro to turn into a relationship. Much less did I expect to have seen the two blue lines on the small stick that you kept hidden in your small desk. How to raise a baby in Sunny? How to tell Zoro that the relationship between the two of you would now gain another part?
You wished you had more time to think about the solution, more time to even clear your doubts with Chopper, but the little being inside you insisted on demonstrating its existence. One of the days, you had almost passed out on top of Franky - who obviously freaked out. In the other, he had eaten twice as much as Luffy ate and had to come up with a lame excuse. This time, it was the third time in a row that you had put food in your mouth and it barely lasted minutes in your stomach.
"Hey…" you heard your name being called from outside the bathroom, but it was a female voice. "Do you need any help?"
"I'm fine, Robin."
"I believe that fine is not the term that best defines your situation." she laughed, still outside. Not knowing how to deal with the situation, you reached out and opened the door, giving her space to enter. "What's our plan?"
"What do you mean our plan?"
"Nausea, dizziness, food cravings, and all the noise you and Zoro make when you're alone." with every word that came out of her mouth, you could feel your skin turn pale. "The swordsman doesn't know yet, right?"
"Not yet." your face sank into your own hands, frustrated with the indecision that plagued your mind. "What do I do, Robin?"
"I suggest you talk to your boyfriend soon, I believe he might accept the idea better than you might expect." She smiled gently, brushing aside the strands of hair that stuck to your face. "However, right now he's trying to kill the cook because he thinks he gave you some spoiled food."
Robin's light laugh was left behind as you ran towards the screams, which had seemed imperceptible before now became increasingly audible.
"Stupid cook, he doesn't even know how to make an egg properly."
"You moldhead, shut your mouth."
"Mold is what you're putting in your food."
"You two stop." you stood between the two, shouting at the top of your lungs and interrupting their argument and the laughter of the others, who were entertained by Zoro and Sanji fighting. "I just… I just need…" the air seemed to disappear from your lungs and the scorching sun above you became just a black screen.
Minutes, hours, days, when your eyes opened, you felt so tired that you couldn't calculate how long you were gone. The first thing that crossed your field of vision was Chopper walking from side to side with a stethoscope in hand.
"Ah, you're awake!" he came happily by your side.
"What happened?" you knew very well what had happened, but first of all you needed to find out what the little doctor had already discovered.
"I'm sorry, but Robin told me some things." He placed the cold item to listen to your heartbeat, remaining silent for a few seconds.
"And is everything okay? I mean, with…" the word seemed to disappear from your lips, it was difficult to bring up the idea without knowing how the other party responsible for it would react.
"These days helping Franky, all this commotion from the fight, from my diagnosis, you're just exhausted. And a little dehydrated too, and that's not good for you or the baby." he explained, sweetly as usual. "By my reckoning, you must be two months pregnant. I'll talk to Luffy and Nami, so we can quickly find an island and secure supplies."
"Wait!" you held him, even though the reindeer hadn't moved. "Can I talk to Zoro first?"
"Of course, he doesn't know yet, right? But he's out there, very worried."
"Do you mind calling him for me?" you asked and saw him nod, leaving the small infirmary.
Your body still feeling heavy from fatigue, you sat down thinking about what words to use, how to bring up such an important subject. The door opened, but you lacked the courage to face the man who stopped in front of you. His silhouette on the ground began to become more real and closer, only then did you realize that he had bent down to be at your height.
"Ready to talk about this?" he whispered and adjusted his posture, remaining standing in front of you as your legs dangled off the bed.
"About what?" His eyes dropped from your face, went to your stomach and looked back at you. To his surprise, he found your orbs wide open in surprise. "How do you know?"
"I was looking for my material to clean my katanas, I missed the drawer and ended up opening yours. I found something strange there and asked Robin. As the drawer was yours, the test could only be yours." he listed with the most passable face in the world.
At the same time it lifted a burden from your conscience. You wanted to kill him for leaving you in agony and thinking of ways to bring up the subject.
"I understood." Your voice was calmer than you could have expected, but you could feel your eyes burning with pure anticipation - and hormones, which you would still discover how much they would affect you. "And what do we do now?"
"We continued sailing." Noticing your stress, one of his hands joined yours, on top of your belly. "And if it becomes too risky, beyond my ability to protect you both, we step aside for a while and then the three of us come back when it's safe."
You wanted to be grateful that he didn't freak out, you wanted to freak out yourself or even say "What do you mean we're step aside?", but the only things that came out of you were tears and sobs, as you clung to his torso.
"I-I thought you would hate me…" a lot more sobs, a lot more tears. "And you was going to leave me on some island."
"I would never do that."
"And I-I wanted to eat the salad Sanji makes."
"You can ask that idiot." Zoro gave his arm, he didn't understand much about pregnancies, but when he found out about the subject Robin explained some things about hormones and sensitivity, while Chopper, in the little time he had to call him, had warned him about the health conditions of the woman who he loved most in the world. Arguments with the cook could wait.
"Don't worry, sweetheart." He had to contain his own laughter hearing you say such nonsense. "I promise to take care of you both, here at Sunny or anywhere else."
Zoro couldn't define his promise about taking care of you better. The remaining months of pregnancy passed faster than you could imagine, despite you being left out of any and all activities. No fighting, no major exploration, no staying near stairs or high places. On the other hand, there was a type of exercise that your hormones craved - and consequently, disturbed the entire team.
After long hours of labor, you didn't know who was screaming more - you, in pain, Zoro desperately wanting Chopper to do something or Luffy thinking you were going to die, seeing the blood when he decided to peek into the room. When little Kuina was born, everyone, including you, discovered a new side of the swordsman. More careful, delicate, he held the little girl like the most precious thing in the entire universe. The three swords were no longer tied to him all the time, the insults directed at the cook became a little lighter when the little girl with green hair was nearby.
"Uncle Sanjiiiii" the girl, now five years old, ran and hummed towards the kitchen, clinging to the cook's leg. "Can you make 'rispy potatos for me?"
"Of course my dear, just give me a few minutes." you saw the cook laugh at her pronunciation, but he already knew the girl's favorite dish and no, they weren't the spicy ones.
"Why don't you ask me?" Zoro grumbled, crossing his arms and forcing you not to make fun of him and destroy the little authority he had - yes, little because the man had a soft heart towards his daughter. Not to mention the small jealousy he accumulated towards little Kuina.
"Uncle Sanji's are tastier." she stuck her tongue out at him, laughing with the cook afterwards.
"You know what? Let's see." Zoro marched to the edge of the sink and took the girl from the cook's legs. "You go with your mommy there while we go prepare something."
"Please don't kill yourselves." you murmured, picking the small girl up in your arms. "And you my love, what do you think about going to see Usopp fishing?"
"Yay!"
Zoro practically growled at Sanji and began to dedicate himself to his tasks. Boiled and roasted potatoes, crispy on the outside and soft on the inside in small pieces, was his daughter's favorite dish, it wasn't that difficult, was it? The presentation wasn't the best, at least not compared to Sanji's, but he watched the girl try a little of each dish. After thinking for a brief moment, she pulled out the plate made by Zoro and began to eat happily.
"This one! The dad ones!" She offered you a small potato, which you accepted. "Daddy knows how to make it too! Now I can eat 'rispys every day."
The flavor was good, but you knew that cooking wasn't your now husband's strong point. You reached out and took a small piece of Sanji's and understood what it was, seeing the blonde blink quickly at you, unnoticeable to the other two. In this case, your husband was now holding your daughter on his lap and spinning her around while she was thrilled that he would now have a new potato supplier.
"Uncle Captain Luffy will like it. Dad, shall we take some for him?" she asked showing with her little fingers the small amount she wanted to share and as always, Zoro immediately answered her.
"You know he's going to eat it all, don't you my dear?" He took the plate with his free hand and left with the girl on his lap.
"Thanks." you turned to Sanji, who smiled.
"I may not be a fan of the mosshead, but I wouldn't accept seeing little Kuina disappointed." he replied, removing the dishes that had accumulated on the table and tasting some of the potato he had made. "I just didn't add any seasoning."
"The shitty cook doesn't know how to cook." you both heard him cheering outside and Kuina right behind. "Shitty cook, shiiiity, shit."
"Zoro!"
"I think I already regret helping." the blonde grumbled, watching you follow the two and give him a good scolding.
Luffy
warnings: Fluff, angst with a happy ending. Luffy is a lot more mature than usual in this one, mention of F!Reader being hurt (nothing serious). Gear 5 Luffy (yes, I'm still excited about his latest appearance). The child's name is Ravi, which means sun.
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The floor of the small room that the two of you shared seemed to be about to sink with all the turns you had already taken and you were amazed that the test in your hands hadn't yet broken from so many times that it bumped against your fingers in pure anxiety.
"Hey, did you call me?" Luffy appeared at the door noticing that you were alone. "Finally, just the two of us!" he vibrated, about to grab you.
Since the two of you had left Foosha Village, you hadn't let go of each other. You started as rivals when you were children in Dadan's house and it took you a few months after entering the sea to understand the true feelings you had for each other. It didn't take long for him to call you his own pirate queen and introduce you as his girlfriend.
"Hi! Are you around?" he waved in front of you, taking you away from the memories of a past that was already distant and so different from what you would face.
"Luffy, we need to talk." you tried to take a firmer stance.
"As your captain or as your boyfriend?" He remembered the little agreement the two of you had made, to separate matters to maintain order - more precisely so you wouldn't kill your boyfriend when he stole food from your plate and, consequently, be left without a captain too.
"I think both, I don't know." a frustrated sigh left you, shoulders carrying the immense burden of fear. "I was feeling strange a few days ago, I was late…"
"Late for what?"
"I'm pregnant!" you spat out the words quickly. If the man hadn't been paying attention, he would barely have caught it. "I'm pregnant, Luffy."
"This is…" he sat down on the bed, lowering his head. You had never touched on such a subject, it barely crossed your mind what his attitude would be.
"I understand it's a lot, I'm scared too…Luffy?"
His laughter took over the room as soon as your feet left the floor and he turned you around, pressing your body tightly against his arms.
"A baby! A mini me or a mini you!" he vibrated and noticed your expression close. "Don't you want a mini me?"
"Not that. Just don't…" your hand went to your mouth, containing the nausea. "No spins, for a while."
"Ah, sorry." he placed you on the ground, more carefully. "How do you feel?"
"A little scared, I guess." You laughed lightly when you saw him bend down to analyze your belly. He promptly put his ear to it, trying to hear something. "Babe, the baby is the size of a grape now, it's a little hard to hear."
"But I know he knows I'm here. A boy!" He placed a quick kiss on your skin. You wouldn't question the fact that he's sure the baby is a boy.
"I think this is the best treasure I could find." you murmured, hugging your boyfriend and allowing yourself to stay there for a few seconds.
"Love?" his voice called to you quietly. "Can I tell everyone?"
"For sure!"
"Guys!!!" He barely waited for you to respond and pulled you out the door, shouting for his friends. "Let's have another crewmate."
"What idea is this Luffy?" Nami cut off her own scolding when she saw him pointing at her belly.
"We're going to have a baby!" your fear ceased for a while when you saw everyone vibrate with the news.
The time you had to find your balance, you lost when you felt Nami and Robin hug you together, happy for the news. It didn't take long for your other companions to congratulate you on the new life that had emerged there.
"Luffy, we need to stop at an island soon so I can get some materials." Chopper warned and the captain immediately agreed.
"Sanji, can we have a feast to celebrate, please." Luffy asked for cook, being interrupted by you who joined him.
"Meat…" the word alone brought the flavor to your mouth. "I need to eat meat and a pie, please Sanji. It could even be meat pie." you asked, clinging to the cook, in the best Luffy style. Noticing the attitude, you soon resumed your posture. "I think I have a little craving… for meat."
It was undeniable that Luffy's genes were strong in the little child who was growing month by month. Restless, the unborn baby was always making you incessantly hungry and seemed to think your belly was made of elastic. Anyone who looked at you would find you with a small package of snacks in hand or grumbling to Luffy about why he had to insist on poking your belly when the baby was quiet, making the child start kicking again. Luffy still didn't seem to have much of an idea of ​​what having a pregnant girlfriend was like. Occasionally he would steal your snacks or make plans that involved you, getting slapped by other companions.
"She's strong and I'm sure our son will be too." was his common response every time.
The contour of the bulge of your belly was already noticeable at six months of pregnancy and even so, you liked to follow Luffy and the others on each new island they stepped on. This time, you didn't expect that a little shopping break would turn into a horror so quickly. An enemy of Luffy had found you along with Nami and Sanji and even though the cook was capable of fighting, he couldn't hold off the man and his henchmen for so long.
Your head was small compared to the man's hand that held it. The instinct taking over your body made you bring your arms to your belly, protecting the being that was developing there, while he dragged you to where Luffy was. As you approached, for the first time in a while you saw terror in your beloved's eyes.
"I see there have been interesting changes." The man's slurred voice irritated you more than usual. He lifted you off the ground and gave your stomach a little poke. "As far as I know, I bet it's a little straw hat."
"Let. Her. Go." the threat implied in Luffy's voice was different than most times. You remembered seeing him like this when a tenryuubito decided to hit Hatchan, but still, he seemed to have more hate in him than you had ever witnessed. "I told you, keep your hands off her."
"As you wish."
Disdain was present in the man's every attitude and in the same way that he had barely used his strength to lift you, he did the same to throw you meters away. With the wind against your body and the screams of your friends like blurs passing by you, you cringed and waited for the impact that didn't come. Instead, you felt something wrap around you and your body land against something soft.
When you opened your eyes, you found Luffy holding you, putting you on your feet even though he didn't let go.
"You're okay, you're alive, you're okay…" the words came out of his mouth like a mantra. It was like seeing relief and fear walking side by side.
As soon as his hands released you, you felt yourself staggering, being supported by someone behind you. Luffy's hands held your face delicately as if a breath could take you away. He took off his straw hat and placed it on you and one of his hands rested on your belly, feeling the agitation under your skin, which seemed to bring the lucidity he needed.
"Jinbe, take her back to the ship." Luffy didn't bother to look at his companion who had just approached, his eyes roamed your face in search of any discomfort. The hand that remained on your face wiped away a small tear that insisted on falling. "Take Chopper with you, get all the tests possible."
"I am fine." you tried to reassure him, seeing that your words had been in vain. "Baby, we're both fine."
"Zoro, protect them." Luffy asked and only then did you realize it was the swordsman supporting you. "Don't let anyone get close to them. Don't let anyone lay a hand on my girl and my son."
"Okay. Jinbe, you carry her. Chopper, stay alert too, but your priority is to get to the ship with the two of them." the mate gave the orders and before your feet left the ground, you felt Luffy place a quick kiss on the small gap between your forehead and the straw hat.
"Those who are left, don't let any of his idiots get out of here. I'm going to finish that bastard off." the last glimpse you saw of Luffy was of his hair turning white.
Something changed that day. The baby was fine, you were fine - enough for Zoro to restrain you and prevent you from returning to the battlefield. Lying on your bed, you curled up again, this time wracked with worries about your captain and boyfriend. Using the straw hat as your companion, you allowed yourself to close your eyes and wait. The sun was already gone when you woke up from your brief nap to feel arms squeeze you tightly.
"Lu?" you turned around and found him smiling, even if a little lighter than usual. Some scratches on the face, but apparently fine.
He took your lips voraciously, capturing them and holding them to his. Your hands soon tangled in the dark strands of his hair and gave him space to fit around your legs, but Luffy moved away.
"Chopper said you're okay, just scared, but you need to rest so our son can be okay too." the captain slid on the bed, until his face was aligned with your belly.
Luffy lifted the cloth that hid your skin and covered your belly with kisses, in silence. Your hands, which previously sought to get tangled in his hair, opted for a light caress.
"I promised to protect you two and today…"
"Today you protected us, love." you interrupted before he even considered finishing the thought. Taking one of his hands, you led him to where the child was kicking. "And someone agrees with me."
From that day on, you saw Luffy change and consequently, you did too. He no longer teased you about your strange diet and didn't even make jokes about the snoring you started to have every night or because you looked like a cuddly ball - except when he, with the help of Usopp and Chopper - tied a watermelon to his belly. and pretended to be you at the end of the pregnancy. Now the words you had said to him "I think this is the best treasure I could find" made more sense to him.
It was early morning when little Ravi was born. The sea water was more crystal clear than usual and your body was sweating cold even though the night was hot when the first contractions hit and lasted throughout the morning. Chopper had chosen Robin and Nami as assistants while Luffy remained there by your side, using the power of the fruit to avoid feeling the strong grip of your hand against him.
Along with the first rays of the morning sun, Ravi came into the world and illuminated Luffy's face. As soon as the boy stopped crying in his father's lap, it was like watching two long-lost friends reunite after so much waiting, Luffy didn't know that he had been waiting for this his whole life and now he knew that he would never be able to stay away from the boy. In a way, it reminded you of the way little Luffy looked at Ace with admiration when they were still children.
He took the feeling seriously since little Ravi became his father's shadow and Luffy didn't make much of a point of preventing the boy from doing something wrong.
"Luffy!" you screamed as you saw him about to throw the two year old into the air.
"But he likes it."
"Sun…Ravi." the little one mumbled a few things.
"See? He wants to reach the sun." Luffy laughed, throwing the child at a much lower height than he intended at the beginning, eliciting a laugh from the baby. "Who wants to go again?"
"That's enough, you two." You stretched your arms to catch the baby, who promptly reached towards you. "It's time for someone to eat!"
"Yay! Let's eat some good food, kid." Luffy ignored you and headed to the kitchen. Before he reached the door, you took little Ravi from him.
"Just little Ravi." you corrected him and saw him mumble.
With each passing year, he became even more like his own father, which meant double work for you. At least at 8 years old, Ravi still had a little more calm than Luffy.
"Zoro!" he walked across the deck to the swordsman "My father said he was going fishing."
"That's good, it means fresh fish for lunch."
"The problem is that the fish caught him. He hasn't come back to the surface for a few minutes." Ravi said without much concern. "Can I go get him? I know how to swim, I don't think my daddy can."
"What the fuck Luffy!" Zoro dropped his swords and threw himself into the sea, attracting his other companions.
"Do not even think about it." Nami warned the boy who was about to reach for one of Zoro's swords.
"But Nami…" he mumbled, lacking the patience to argue. In the same way that she imputed fear to the father, it worked on the son.
"They're too big for your age." you saw him mumble just like Luffy and you had to hold back your laughter.
"Ravi!" Luffy's voice attracted the two of you to the end of the ship where he was, soaked and being scolded immensely by Zoro.
"Wow dad, what a big fish. All this for us?" the boy poked the little monster lying in the deck.
"That's right." Luffy laughed alongside the boy. You thought it was adorable that their laugh was identical.
"Hey Sanji, I'm hungry." they both shouted. Apparently, the appetite was also similar.
Ace
Warnings: fluff, a little angst until Ace finds out, Marco and F!Reader are best friends. Ace just wants to be loved by his baby. And for the record, I know Whitebeard would be a badass grandfather.
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"Wait…" Marco began, analyzing your figure standing there biting his nails in front of him. "I thought you heard me when I explained it to you. You know, condoms, medicine, yoi."
"I heard, but maybe I forgot one…" his critical look made you change your tone. "Okay, I forgot to use protection a few times."
"Sit there already." he gave up and waited for you to curl up on the stretcher. Once you did, you watched him prepare a small kit.
"Why do you keep a pregnancy test kit?" You tried to take the object from his hand, but the doctor quickly dodged it.
"I don't keep it." Your eyes watched him concentrate and insert the needle into your arm, drawing a small amount of blood. "You've only been vomiting for two weeks and you've also been refusing to drink with alcohol. I'm a good doctor, yoi."
"And now?"
"Now…" he dripped the blood onto a small white spatula and placed it next to you on the stretcher. "We waited, for five minutes."
"All of this?"
"I've been waiting for you to bring this up for two weeks, don't complain." he replied.
"I needed Ace to be busy or out of here." you simply responded, turning your attention to the clock hanging next to one of the cabinets.
For the remaining minutes you stood there, legs shaking from side to side and watching a Marco as anxious as you. As soon as the hand reached the long-awaited minute, the two of you turned to the test together.
“Two risks…” you started.
"Positive. Looks like I've been promoted to uncle!" the man smiled, containing the feeling when he saw your face.
"I'm pregnant." the phrase still sounded strange to your ears, so sudden and unexpected. "I'm pregnant." you tested again, trying to improve your expression.
"You're pregnant! Now we need to do some more tests to make sure everything is ok. Dad will be happy when he hears about this." Marco placed the test results on a table away from the two of you. "I suggest an ultrasound, it would also be good to see some blood tests."
"My God, Marco, I'm pregnant!" A certain happiness crossed your expression, eliciting a laugh from your closest friend and brother.
"Now you're ready to jump…"
"You are pregnant?" you both turned as you heard a third voice join the room.
Ace looked at the two of you, waiting for some kind of justification, but at the same time it felt like the air had been knocked out of his lungs. You were still there, the same girl he had left to follow to a nearby island a few days ago, but now it seemed different. There was almost a glow emanating from you to his eyes.
"Ace, can we talk?" your voice reached his ears, but his mind was in a distant place.
Ace took a few steps back, moving away from the small infirmary and disappearing from your field of vision. You and the doctor looked at each other, surely this was the last reaction either of you would have thought of having.
"Are you feeling good?" Marco's voice pulled you back to reality. "Hey, look at me, yoi."
"I need to talk to him." You ignored your friend's question and went in search of your boyfriend.
From his reaction, you knew you had two options and to solve the first of them, you leaned over and saw that the Striker was still docked and with no one around, you immediately ran towards your room, finding the door closed.
Two knocks weren't enough to get his attention, so ignoring any possible chaotic scene you were going to encounter, you entered the room unceremoniously. The idea of ​​finding the room on fire crossed your mind, but was soon dismissed when you found Ace sitting on the bed, his face buried in his hands.
"Babe, please." You asked, trying to keep your tone calmer - despite the internal desperation in him hating you. "Please talk to me."
"Y-You…" his dark irises met yours and only then did you realize that your beloved's eyes were full of water. "I'm going to be a father?"
"My love, I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner." Urgently, you moved closer, holding his face in your hands. "I know it's kind of scary, but I promise we'll figure it out."
"No, no. That's not the problem." he sniffled, not allowing any of the tears to flow. His hand threatened to touch your belly and withdrew. "What if I'm not a good father? What if this child doesn't love me."
"Think about how much I love you Ace, how much you love me." you stated almost obviously, gaining his attention. "What can come out of here, besides love?" your hands found your belly for the first time after the discovery.
Your body was enveloped in a tight hug, his face was almost buried in your belly, while you caressed his dark locks.
"I love you so much." He turned to you, noticing the slight discomfort, he moved his chin away from your stomach. "Oops, I'm sorry."
"It's okay…Ace!!" you screamed as you felt your body hit the bed, now with him fitting between your legs.
When it came to loving you, Ace could be as hot as the fire that emanated from him, strong as the waves that insisted on crashing against Moby Dick. Except that day. His lips touched yours gently, his body didn't press against yours, just covered it lightly. The delicate kisses went down to your belly, being placed as if they always belonged there. His lips found your face again, his smile hovered over yours.
"We need to talk to Marco." he began, interrupting himself to allow his kisses to cover your face again. "I need to know everything that's going on."
"Well, you know now."
"Not this." he grumbled. "We need exams, to know if everything is ok with you two, we also need to know what a baby needs. My god, are you going to give birth here at Moby Dick? We barely have room for the two of us…"
"Calm down, stay calm." you asked as you watched him spiral. With his support, you got back on your feet, holding out your hand for him to get up. "I have a better idea of ​​what we can do."
You expected some commotion, of course. Maybe even a few tears. You didn't expect to see Ace crying like a baby when telling Whitebeard that he was going to be a grandfather and consequently, bringing some tears from your old man and several other colleagues also shedding tears. It was good to know that your little baby would arrive surrounded by love.
The months that followed the discovery were more peaceful than you imagined and even though for a long time you had insisted to your father that there were too many men on that ship, you couldn't complain about being so spoiled.
Want to eat something different? Thatch had it ready within minutes of you ordering. Marco walked like a shadow behind you and Ace - this by his own choice and by Whitebeard's direct order, since on one of the days you were sick, you had almost killed the three men of the heart. It was adorable to see how Ace worried about the mission that was getting closer every month. More than once, you found him in Whitebeard's room, asking for tips on what to do with the baby, how to help you at this time and how he could be a good father. The idea of ​​not being loved by his own son haunted him more than you might expect. Everything seemed great, except one detail: the two of you couldn't agree on the name.
The little baby decided to arrive a few weeks ahead of schedule, which caused widespread chaos on the boat. Ace was having dinner with the other commanders when your scream reached his ears, along with Whitebeard's scream that echoed louder than any earthquake he had ever created, prompting them to speed up the preparations for the birth. Apparently, immense pain arose when you and your father were talking, which led you to stay in the ship's medical wing for hours. Your screams were heard throughout the ship while Ace served as your support point. The little boy was born and if you hadn't been feeling so weak, you would have laughed at the screams of joy coming from outside the room as they heard his cries.
"Ace?" you called to him, who held you even tighter in his arms. "I think I have an idea for the name. Can you see if we can use it?"
You whispered in his ear, making Marco curious. Ace delicately left behind you, who was holding the little baby and ignoring the blood that still stained his hands, he left the ship in search of a specific person. A few minutes later, you saw your beloved enter the room again, accompanied by your dad.
"Can I take that as a yes?" you saw Whitebeard bend down to get closer to the baby. "Meet your grandson, Alev Edward Newgate."
If you were spoiled during your pregnancy by Ace, you couldn't imagine what it would be like with little Alev. The child was never alone - or at least walking on two feet. There was always one of his uncles who could pick him up and carry him around the ship. Marco, who called himself the child's uncle and godfather even though he had not been baptized, had already lost count of how many times he had to redo the serums and medicines he applied to Whitebeard, since Alev - with his grandfather's permission, used the height difference to make it like a little personal slide.
And Ace, who was completely in love with the little piece of love you two had brought to the world, even when he messed up.
"Papa!" you and Ace, who were playing cards with other friends, heard the child scream and a laugh soon after. You already lowered your deck knowing that it anticipated some new prank.
"What is it Alev?" Ace spoke loudly so the boy could hear him and know where he was.
You don't know how your blood pressure didn't drop or how Ace didn't have a heart attack when he saw the child in your not-so-calm and serene days coming twirling a burning cloth in one hand and in the other a lighter that only God should know where he found.
"Look papa, I can control fire just like you!" the boy rolled the cloth and you prepared to move forward and take it from him, but you were anticipated by Ace, who placed his hand exactly where the cloth would hit Alev's freckled face.
"You can't do that, ever again." Ace raised his voice, taking the cloth that was half ash and the lighter from the boy. "You are crazy?"
"But daddy, I want to be like you."
"That doesn't mean setting everything on fire, my little flame." you warned and saw the child threaten to cry. Ace noticed immediately, regretting the little scream.
"I can't believe you're such a crybaby." Ace said in a teasing tone, throwing the boy over his shoulder. "Does your grandfather know about this? He won't like having a crybaby pirate at all."
"No daddy, I already stopped, I already stopped." you heard your son mumble in the distance, drying his tears. "I just wanted to be cool like you."
"My son, you are the coolest kid ever." Ace let Alev slip out of his arms and hugged him, stopping him from reaching the ground. "You know I love you very much, don't you?"
"I love you sooooo much more daddy."
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dbf!Jake with a little bit of grey in his hair I'm 🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵 I don't know why that gets me but it does
you understand!!! you get it!!!! I swear this has fueled hours of my daydreams about him, I'm incredibly hyped to share those haha
jake refers to himself in third person once in this, and even though every time i read or write that i have to think about caesar and immediately hate it, jake would absolutely 100% do it so.
top gun masterlist | top gun blurbs
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It's late as you stumble through Jake's doorway, your keys clanging against the wall and your shoes thumping to the floor. You can hear the tv playing in the living room, shouts and cheers that have you guessing he's watching a sports game.
You tread through the hallway and knock softly on the doorframe, a bit unnecessarily because Jake's head is long turned to you.
"Hey there", you greet, and you can do nothing at all against the smile tugging at your lips.
"Hey there", Jake echoes, at least an octave deeper than you. His eyes rake down your body - you're still in your work clothes, which is unusual. "D'you want a drink, darling?"
With a sigh, you push off the doorframe and pad over to the couch. Jake puts his beer bottle down on the table.
"No, I'm good. I don't need a drink", you mutter, letting yourself drop right onto his lap. He's freed his hands for a reason after all. "I just need you."
One of your palms steadies against his chest, the other brushes down his jaw, fingertips dragging circles against his skin - against his stubble, it's been a few days since he's shaved (and that truly is your favourite look on him) - as his arms wrap around your waist and pull you tightly to him.
"I'm here", he says with a smile.
"Yeah", you breathe, smiling right back at him. God, he turns your insides into mush. "I know."
He holds you close and settles back against the couch, his eyes focused on yours, content to have you on his lap, to have your hands on him. You can feel him relax by the second as your fingertips trail up and down his face - his jaw, his cheek, disappearing into his hair.
Suddenly, you still.
"Jake", you breathe and swallow hard. "Are you going grey?"
"What?", he mutters, his arms loosening from around you to grab for your thighs instead.
"You're going grey", you repeat, and pray you don't sound half as stunned as you feel. "Baby, you've got a grey streak."
Jake's hands tighten on you. If there was any way, any way at all, to look away from the strand of grey you'd spotted in his hair, you would - but you can't. You can't. There's absolutely no way you can drag your eyes off.
He's going grey. Your boyfriend is going grey.
"If you joke about how old I am now, I'll call your father", he mutters, but there's less joke in his tone than there should be. It takes you a second to realise why.
He's worried.
He's worried you're understanding just how old he is, that it's somehow bothering you, that it's turning you off.
The problem you are having is about the opposite.
Jake's grey streak doesn't turn you off. It turns you on.
You don't know why. You can't explain to yourself why. You don't really want to, either, because you're sure that's just going to end up being some fucked up psychology deep dive. It doesn't matter anyway. What matters is the way your legs clamp tightly around his, the way your fingers fist his shirt.
"Jake", you whisper, finally managing to drag your eyes away from his hair and to look back at him instead. He truly does seem worried - it's just hard to concentrate on that when you feel tingly and hot all of a sudden. But something in his expression changes the very moment you glance at him anyway. You think you can guess why.
You've never been all that good at hiding your emotions. And Jake had read you like an open book from the very beginning on.
Maybe your eyes are glazed over or half-lidded or something, maybe your cheeks are dusted pink, maybe your irises are blown wide - you'd have to check a mirror to be sure, but you know that there must be something, something he sees that has him raising his eyebrows, that has a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"You're into this", he says, almost as though he can't really believe it.
You bite down on your lip and your eyes flicker back up to the grey in his hair.
"And what if I am, old man?", you mumble, playing at his age after all, trying to get at least a bit of leverage back, even though you already know you'll lose it just as quickly again.
Jake proves you right almost immediately - you can't even comprehend how fast he's turned you around, got your back pushed against the couch and your chest pressed to his.
"Just that you like your old man", he mutters, his breath tickling your skin as you try calm your racing pulse. Your old man, fuck. That shouldn't make your heart stutter the way it does. "And his grey streak too."
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hubbvrd · 2 days
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Helpful words | Travis Kelce
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In which y/n is afraid of becoming a bad mother. She reveals these doubts to Travis, who does everything he can to prove to y/n that she will be a good mother
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
After the last baby things have been stowed away in the closet, your gaze wanders once again through the finally finished baby room.
A smile forms on your lips as your hand rests on your round belly.
Over the last two months, Travis and you had done a lot of work in the nursery to create a beautiful room for your unborn daughter.
Now the room with the light pink walls and white furniture was finally finished and it couldn't be more perfect.
Even all the clothes that you had just sorted into the wardrobe were already waiting to be worn by your little Peanut.
Peanut was the nickname Travis had given your daughter as soon as he found out you were pregnant.
Since then, the nickname has been used by both of you whenever you address the little one.
You already had a name for your daughter, but you didn't want to announce it to your families until she was born, so it was still Peanut.
Your finger gently stroked the many different items of clothing that not only you and Travis had bought, but had also received as gifts at the baby shower.
It was about time to pick out the first outfit for Peanut, as it could be any day now.
Your hospital bag had been in the trunk of your car for weeks, but you hadn't yet been able to decide between all the cute outfits which one you should take to the hospital and dress your daughter in first.
"Honey?" Travis, who had just come back from running a few errands at the supermarket, called out because you were hungry for ice cream and your husband had run straight out to get it.
"Baby room!" you shouted back as you pulled out a hanger or two to look at the outfit on the hanger.
There was too much choice and each outfit seemed to get cuter so you just couldn't decide.
Why was that so damn hard? Even with your daughter's name or the design of the nursery, it hadn't even been that difficult.
A loud sigh left your lips as you closed the closet doors louder than you intended.
"Everything okay?" Travis asked directly as he stumbled into the baby's room, looking at himself with a worried and anxious look at the same time.
"I can't find a suitable hospital outfit for Peanut!" you sobbed as countless tears began to roll down your cheeks.
"Hey," Travis began as he crossed the last few feet over to you and then pulled you into his strong arms. "We'll find a suitable one."
His hand gently stroked your back as a few more tears soaked Travis' shirt slightly.
"How am I supposed to be a good mother if I can't find anything suitable for the hospital?" A loud sob left your lips.
The pregnancy hormones once again had you completely in their grip and you began to doubt yourself.
"Hey, sweetheart," Travis' voice rang out softly as he pushed you back a little so you could look at him.
"Huh?" you sniffled as you lifted your gaze and looked into your husband's eyes.
His eyes radiated calm and warmth, making you feel a little better, but despite all this, your hormones were still on a rollercoaster.
"You'd be a great mom." Travis wiped his thumb across your face to wipe away the tears that were still rolling down your cheeks. "You're going to do amazing, darling. I can already see how much love and security you give Peanut, even though she's not even here yet. You talk to her every day, sing or read to her. And just because you can't decide what to wear right now doesn't mean you'll be a bad mom."
The tears slowly began to dry as Travis' hand placed itself on your stomach and gently stroked over.
"Your mom is going to be a great mom, isn't she Peanut?" As Travis spoke, he squatted down to be more or less on the same level as your daughter.
It took a few seconds for your daughter to kick your belly like she was saying yes.
"See, even Peanut agrees with me." Travis looked up at you and gave you a soft smile.
And this situation once again caused new tears to roll down her cheeks. But not out of desperation, but out of love.
Those words from Travis and the light kick from your daughter caused you to become quite emotional now and once again you were clearly shown how much you loved your husband and your unborn daughter.
"Thank you," You whispered, while Travis wrapped his arms around you again and buried his face in your hair.
"The truth," he replied gently as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head and you stood there for a few minutes just enjoying each other's closeness and affection.
"And now let's pick out an outfit for Peanut together. With all your super cute stuff, it's going to be hard even for me to pick just one." 
Travis took your hand while he opened your daughter's closet with his other hand and looked through all the clothes.
And indeed, your husband felt the same way as you did. He couldn't decide either, so you both picked out your top two favorites and in the end, after a long back and forth, you finally decided on an outfit that your little Peanut would wear first.
And it shouldn't be too much longer before that day finally comes.
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Text
Georgi Romanov: A Brief Introduction*
*bc there is not a lot of information about him in English.
Good evening to the greater Sharkudablr community, it has come to my attention on the eve of Georgi Romanov's Possible First NHL Regular Season Start that not all of you know about Georgi Romanov or appreciate him appropriately. This is insane to me as someone who spends approximately 40% of my waking hours thinking about Georgi, but then I realized that as a person with a blog, I can just say stuff to fix that.
This is Georgi Romanov:
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He's not exploding you with his brain, he's actually exploding his teammates with his brain, you're just standing there.
This is also Georgi Romanov:
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Goaltender Interference with the Barracuda is when Your Goaltender Interferes With You Beating The Shit Out Of Kole Lind 😌
This is ALSO Georgi Romanov:
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At beginning of the season, sadly he got a haircut so he looks less like the kind of beautiful Eastern Orthodox saint you'd find in a stained glass window who was like the patron saint of taking poppers at Ultra Europe. Who said that.
Georgi Romanov is so important to me. He was a frequent flyer on the Wichita Express this season which makes it all the more joyful that he made a) to the NHL, and b) saved...uh...a couple of...shots against Edmonton. Fuck Edmonton all my homies hate Edmonton. Anyway, the Cuda signed him this summer thinking they were getting a lil buddy for Beck Warm (in the ECHL) and then he proceeded to kick ass at the AHL level and matched or outplayed Chrona and Mäkiniemi every step of the way and then Jmac way overplayed him and he did amazing anyway. Then I got to experience Jmac and GMJW putting him on the Wichita Midnight Rider bc the Sharks had uh really been banking on Chrona and Mäkiniemi for their goalie prospect pipeline and were NOT expecting some 23 year old kid who had played ONE single KHL game to actually be very very very very good, but like Jmac is incapable of spreading starts evenly between all three goalies, so Georgi had to be removed from the premises.
But he is very very very very good. Even though he suffered severe Strauss Mann-ification, he has risen to the challenge again and again! When Chrona got called up to the Sharks and then Mäkiniemi went down with mono, he basically got called up full-time to be the third goalie in the Cuda and he has been killing it ever since.
Here is an interview SJHN did with him at the beginning of the season, by the only man I trust on this bitch of earth, Nikita Sokolov. It's a good article, here are some fun tidbits:
Had to learn to tie a tie when he came to North America because in his Russian team (TIER 2 RUSSIAN LEAGUE!!) he just wore tracksuits
Stayed in Knyzhov's house for a month before signing a lease, which doesn't help the "Nikolai Knyzhov is the eldest daughter of the Barracuda" allegations but is so so funny to me too
The mattress company never delivered his mattress and he didn't speak enough English to resolve this, so he had to get his teammates and agent to help him out. I love thinking about Nikita Okhotiuk arguing with a mattress company. I think I would just give him a free mattress at that point.
Bought a car here with a loan to build credit bc him and his wife "need to think about the future. We want to be here for a long time.” 🥺🥺🥺
Here are some facts about Georgi from k 18minutemajor, when I asked if they had any fun facts:
Romanizes his name as Romanoff on instagram
It appears his nickname is Gosha!
Cuda fans all love him very much 😭
They also did amazing art of the greatest hits of Situations Happening To Georgi which I cannot overstate has crossed this man from give Georgi a knife to give Georgi several hand grenades. Please look at it and appreciate it and click on the links bc Georgi has suffered so much and still he remains so beautiful and so deadly.
Here are some facts about Georgi that you may only know if you attend games regularly or watch games on AHLtv:
He habitually bangs his stick on the ice when he gets pissed at his team. Or possibly encouraging them but usually it's when defense is falling apart and shots are like 45 to 30 Firebirds/Cuda, he starts slamming his stick against the ice like...a warning...a reminder...he's coming for ALL your motherfuckers.
Cuda stick the back up goalies in the tunnel and MOST of our goalies are so normal and just sit a couple feet back from the glass and hang out. NOT Georgi. Georgi has Emi the athletic trainer drag his chair right up to the glass and then he crosses his arms on the lip of the board and then he rests his head on his gloves and watches the game with his face pressed against the glass.
When we were rocking a line up with Nikita Okhotiuk for a few brief beautiful weeks, I very much watched Georgi on at least one occasion go up to Okhotiuk during a stoppage and take his water bottle from his hands. MY water bottle. And Nikita just let him.
Often the Cuda lose at home. Often the Cuda are trying to get the fuck off the ice as fast as possible. OFTEN Georgi will do a little one man salute of the arena with his stick while the rest of the team is streaming off the ice. Guys I think he really likes us :(
Cuda Goalie vibes this year were INSANE like I do not even know how to explain what was going on there without going full Pepe Silva BUT by the end of the year, things seem to have um. Well. I once watched Mäkiniemi (with mono!!) run -- run!!! -- down the stairs from the scratches box to go stand by Chrona in the tunnel to watch Georgi face a shoot out and when they lost, both of them waited for him to get off the ice. Guys I think they really like each other :(
Signed for one more year which I guess you could look up on CapFriendly, but EYE didn't know that until this week and I spent no joke like the entire season barfing with anxiety that we don't bring him back. But NO. Provided GMMG doesn't give me a 15th or 16th reason, we have ONE MORE YEAR OF GEORGI 🥳🥳 and will maybe (probably) be rocking a Chrona/Romanov tandem. Which is so beautiful to me as an Employee Appreciator.
Also here's some photos of Chrona and Georgi hugging:
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It's the way Goosh was waiting for a hug and gave up for me lol
In conclusion: Georgi Romanov is so important and Sharkudablr needs to love him So Much. Thank you for listening 😌
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mxjackparker · 2 days
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With all the propaganda and rhetoric against top surgery that "Gender Criticals" and general transphobes are spreading, here's some info on what top surgery was actually like for me, from surgery all through the healing process! (This post will include some images of drains and a little blood!)
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I was diagnosed with gender dysphoria (which is necessary in the UK for surgery) around May 2020 and started testosterone February 2021, all through GenderCare. I got a letter from the gender therapist and a surgery referral from GenderGP and consulted with my surgeon then booked surgery for 14th Feb 2022.
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I had to travel all the way to Manchester, on a coach that took many hours, and book a hotel. I raised surgery money via GoFundMe because despite being referred to (now closing) Tavistock GIC in early 2020, my appointment to even be assessed wouldn't have been for over 5 years.
I had a double incision top surgery (double mastectomy) on February 14th 2022 as scheduled! I woke up in a fairly minor amount of pain, still on painkillers from the surgery, with drains. As you can see, I was also so happy that probably made it hurt less!
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My top surgery took a few hours. Pre-surgery, my chest size was a 32 H. That's a lot of tissue to be removing, and so I did end up with drains for the first 48 hours after surgery, though drains aren't used as broadly in the UK anymore and not by default.
I was discharged from the hospital the morning after my surgery (some people go home the day of, but I pre-arranged to stay overnight). I took no painkillers after surgery at any point during healing. I was up and walking around from the moment I left!
If you take painkillers, that may make you more fatigued and/or constipated, so those things are totally normal. If you need painkillers, you should absolutely take them - it's not a point of pride to suffer more than you need to. I didn't take any painkillers because I have a history of addiction to them. However, I found the pain entirely tolerable even despite the lack of medication.
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The evening after I was released from the hospital, I was pacing my hotel room carrying my drains! Moving promotes healing and prevents blood clots. I was very hunched!
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Directly after surgery I got to briefly see my chest, but not for long given that I needed to have the compression vest on! I didn't have too much swelling, so I could see what my chest actually looked like and was so excited. Once I got my drains out, I got to see it for longer!
The pain post-surgery was manageable. I had to bend forwards a little when walking so as not to pull on my stitches and make it hurt more, but I never took any painkillers and the pain was never intense enough to make me feel compelled to. I kept wearing my compression vest!
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The drains were honestly the most painful part of the experience for me, and once they were out the most pain I felt was from my back from walking hunched forward. I wore the compression vest on and off for 2 weeks then abandoned it completely, because I had such little swelling.
3 weeks after surgery, I got my dressings off (except nipples). I could see the full scar. I told my surgeon I wanted scars that were mostly straight, and that combined with the size of my chest meant the scars needed to meet in the middle in a little triangle.
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Everyone's scar shape is different, and you should talk to your surgeon about what you want. I didn't want semi-circle shape scars, because I wanted the scar to follow my pectorals so I'd have the option in the long-term of fading/medical tattooing and mostly hiding the scar.
3 weeks after top surgery, I was well-healed enough that I went into London for the Sex Work Strike and did a speech there! I was well-recovered by this point, though still fatigued. (A link to my speech if you're interested.)
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Around a month, I took off the nipple dressing as instructed by my post-op nurse, and one was healed enough for no dressing but the other took about another week to be as healed. Healing isn't perfectly symmetrical.
Once all of my dressings were off and I was able to probably clean my nipples and scars, I got to see the full result of my chest. This is the thinnest my scars ever were, because they hadn't developed as scars yet - they were healed shut but weren't done scarring.
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Once I was past a month of healing, all of the physical effects of top surgery had dissipated. I was no longer fatigued, my scars didn't hurt (though they did itch!), and I was in the secondary healing phase. My chest below the top of the nipple had minimal sensation.
I got phantom sensations, like water being poured over my chest, as the nerves reconnected. It wasn't painful, but it was weird! By month 2, I regained full sensation in most of my chest, with very little sensation on the scar and the skin directly between it and my nipples.
I have pretty much full sensation (including erotic sensation) in my nipples now. It's important to note: double incision almost always results in some loss of sensation, especially in the nipples. I'd have been fine with that, and this was an extra bonus for me!
This is my chest and scars 8 months after surgery.
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And this is my chest now, just over 2 years after top surgery:
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I'm very happy with how it looks, with how it feels, and I have zero regrets!
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wanderingblindly · 11 hours
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i absolutely ADORED “wedding bells, wedding kisses” and saw that you had kissing prompts open. if they still are/you have interest i would LOVE to see “you’re going to get lipstick all over me” for lestappen. thank you!!! 🫶
we don't need to talk about the fact that this took [redacted] weeks, right? the human mind is a mystery and mine is full of holes. anyways, i hope you enjoy!! i was loosely going for model!charles and photographer!max
kiss prompts here xx
Red, Red, Red All Over (Charles Leclerc/Max Verstappen, 674 words)
They both excuse themselves the minute the shoot wraps, indiscreetly storming in the same direction, basically oozing fervor. Heat.
They're getting worse at hiding it.
Their hands are on each other before the dressing room door closes; Max hardly has half a mind to lock it, career safety secondary, tertiary, to getting his hands under Charles's shirt.
"Max," Charles breathes, more like a groan, before falling back against the vanity. He perches himself there, instinctively arching his back, tilting his head — some subconscious part of his mind still searching for the light, for Max's camera.
And he looks it. Red lipstick a mess from Max's mouth, he's no less beautiful, no less perfect, than he was just moments ago: magazine cover ready, Italian Vogue destined.
The lock clicks into place. "Impatient as always," Max tries to chastise him, but he can't muster any bite. His eyes are glued to the broad expanse of Charles's chest, highlighted in the mesh shirt he'd been modeling.
Charles spreads his knees, bracing his hands on the vanity to give him leverage. He commands, "Come over here."
Max does, because of course he does. He crosses the room in an instant, slotting himself between Charles's parted legs and tangling his fingers in his hair; it's grown out nicely, his agency slowly styling it into a trendy mullet, hoping to balance out his classic features.
It feels like silk in his hands, feels like a gift when he tugs on it.
Charles groans against his mouth, desperately trying to press all of himself against Max, dig his nails into his back. "Let me…" He sighs, lips sliding away from Max's, catching the sharp cut of his jaw.
"You're gonna get your lipstick everywhere," Max protests weakly, pulse jumping when Charles drags his mouth along his jawline, teeth gently grazing in his wake. He doesn't respond, busy sucking on Max's earlobe, sliding a hand up his shirt, making quick work of teasing his chest.
He lets go with a bite, pulling the soft flesh for a moment — earning a hiss. "That's the point, chéri," Charles whispers, breath hot on Max's ear, teasing. "You look so good in red."
Max can see himself in the vanity mirror, painted by Charles's curious mouth, his possessive smile. Red bleeds from his mouth to his chin, dances boldly against his jaw, highlights the flush on his cheeks.
He looks ragged, pupils blown and flesh claimed and lips parted, slick.
"Keep going," His voice mimics his appearance: rough around the edges, desperate.
"Yeah?" Charles latches onto his neck, right above his Adam's apple. He can hear his smile, feel its predatory curve against the his skin. "Wanna show everyone that you're mine?"
Max's knees feel weak, eyes glued on the remnants of Charles's mouth on his — somehow so much more infatuating than a hickey, a bruise.
"Please,"
Charles slides his nails down his chest, no doubt leaving red in his wake. Max's hips buck weakly when he catches his nipple; the vanity shakes, Charles giggles against his neck.
"Who is impatient now?" His mouth slides down, resting on the hollow of his throat with hot, exaggerated breaths. Slowly, lasciviously, he presses the flat of his tongue against the ball of Max's collarbone, feeling his pulse, his labored breaths.
He's all but frozen, hands stuck in Charles's hair and eyes stuck on the mirror, stuck on the crimson blooming on his skin.
"Shirt off." Charles demands, sitting up and tugging at the hem, eyes focused intensely on Max's.
He look like sin: lipstick smeared across his lips, his chin, eyes bright and lashes dark. He looks like he wants to drag Max to hell by means of heaven, with teeth and nails and ecstasy.
Charles raises a brow, pink tongue sweeping across his beautiful lips — expectant.
Snapped into motion, Max slides off his shirt, tossing it somewhere into the void of the dressing room. Charles smiles brightly, hands immediately latching onto his exposed sides, splaying against his ribs. "Let's see where else the lipstick can go, yes?"
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gimyeongbestboy · 11 hours
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Damn Samuel simps are thirsty huh (same but I wanna dom him so slightly different from the ones that want him to step on them) BUT I am here to ask for hcs or something where Johan falls for a girl that makes him hot meals. He needs the nutrients. Straight up one of the dudes that will fall for you if you feed him. One of the prime examples of "best way to a man's heart is his stomach".
Seaweed Soup and Curry
Pairing: Johan Seong x Reader
an: omg anon, your request has been in my ask box for so long! I kept you waiting for a long time lmao. I hope you enjoy this one! Also, I have not proof-read this
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During a specific time of night, you always notice guy with brown hair looking through the small make shift window of the tarpaulin tent that houses your family's snack bar. Dressed in all black, his tall figure, blends in with the dim lighting outside the snack bar. You don't know how long you've been staring at him, but it seems like he noticed you staring at him before you can realize what you're doing. You tried calling out to him, but he walked away before you even got the chance to. For the following nights to come, this is how your meeting with him would take place.
Friday night comes, and you made sure to hide behind the tarpaulin snack bar waiting for the time when he usually comes around-- 10pm. You waited for a couple of minutes to pass before coming around, and sure enough, there he is standing in-front of the snack bar, a white dog sitting next to him. The dog noticed you, and gave a small bark towards your direction causing him to look towards you.
"Hey, I noticed you're always here during this time looking through. Aren't you going to go in? You're always lurking out here like weirdo." You raised your brow as you study his face in the dim lighting. You aren't going to lie, this guy looks quite attractive. The yellow lights of the street lights bounces off his brown hair making seem like he has a halo on his head. An angel on earth perhaps?
"How long have you been there?" His question snapped you out of the trance you were about to enter when admiring his face.
"Not long, I was hoping to catch you actually."
"And I'm the weirdo?"
"Hey! Any one in their right mind would wonder why some guy keeps staring, but never buy anything! Much less enter!"
"It's called window shopping, dumbass." His rebuttal got you confused. Who even window shops food? But before you can get the words out of your mouth, he had already walked away with his dog on his tail. You're not sure why, but you hoped that he would come again tomorrow night.
When the next night came, you waited for him outside in-front of the snack bar unlike last time, and sure enough, he came again at the same time. He paused in his tracks when he noticed you standing outside the snack bar with your hands inside your apron pocket.
Upon noticing his arrival you told him, "Follow me inside." You grabbed his wrist and pulled him into the snack bar. There were three tables inside and a few folding chairs around the tables. You pulled him directly towards an empty table made him sit. "We have rice and curry, fried chicken, tteokbokki and seaweed soup. What do you want to eat?"
"I'm not hungry." He said pointedly, looking you straight in the eyes with his dark pretty eyes. As he said this, his stomach growled loud enough to catch the attention of his dog.
"Just tell me what you want. My grandma figures that you're probably 'window shopping' outside because you're hungry." You said as you pointed towards your grandma sitting behind the counter. "Just tell me what you want before I change my mind."
"I don't want your charity." He said as he glimpsed at the food.
"Look here, uhhh..."
"Johan" Johan was unsure why he told you his name, but when he gave it out anyways. It was quite unusual for him. Often times, he would just stay quite and leave the other person hanging.
"Look here, Johan. Do I look like I got room to be charitable. I'm not doing this to be charitable. My grandma would probably kill me if I let you starve any further."
Johan smirked and said, "I wouldn't mind seeing that."
"Forget it, I'll just choose for you." You walked behind the counter where the small make shift kitchen is. Using the ingredients the prepped ingredients, you made a quick and easy curry and served it to him on top of hot white rice. "Here, don't worry about paying for it, and if you feel like you should pay, you can pay me by helping my grandma grocery shop."
"Thanks, but shouldn't you be helping your grandma though?" Johan asked as politely as he could.
"Well yeah, but I'm in school during the day, so I can't help grandma."
Johan nods as he silently ate the food that was served to him. Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months. Soon enough it's been a year ever since Johan started helping out your grandma. Sometimes, he'd even help out setting up the stall or cleaning up at the end of the night. Ever since then you and Johan have gotten closer. You'd have banters all the time so much so, that some customers have said that the two of you banter like an old married couple. You would simply brush off the comment and say, "as if I'd marry him." The redness of your entire face kind of give away how flustered you are because of the comment.
Today is the weekend, and as you were setting up there was a guy wearing a tracksuit that came up to you handing you a package meant for Johan. A few hours later, Johan came with your grandma with the prepped ingredients for tonight's menu.
"Hey Johan, this came for you earlier. Some guy named Zack dropped it off earlier for you." You informed Johan as you handed him a neatly wrapped gift. "He said, 'Happy Birthday and come home.'"
Johan grabbed the gift from you and thanked you. Before he can go on about his day you asked, "How come you never said today is your birthday?"
"Why? Were you planning on getting me a gift?" He asked in a teasing voice.
"No, you ass." You rolled your eyes and get to cooking. Not long after, you came back to him with a small steaming hot pot filled with seaweed soup. Johan looked up at you in surprise as you set the soup down on the table in-front of him.
"It's seaweed soup. You probably haven't had some in a while ever since you left home, so I thought I'd make you some. Happy Birthday Johan." Johan felt a comforting warmth envelope him as he watches the small and gentle smile on your face. The smile may have been small, but it's the kind of smile that reaches your eyes-- making them shine despite the terrible lighting in the snack bar. Out of all the food you've made for him, curry is his favourite as well as the seaweed soup you've made for him on his birthday.
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utilitycaster · 11 hours
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@rowzeoli replied to your post “@rowzeoli replied to your post “Do you think part...”:
There's a lot to tackle on this so I'll do my best to cover it all! So I totally get where you're coming from and to be fair yes there are some things in old articles that I don't agree with any more in deeming people having done things "first" which is part of the issue of not having a collective historical memory around actual play as it moves so quickly. Most of the issue isn't that readership is down it's that AI and venture capitalism is destroying journalism
Hey, sorry for taking a bit to respond; it's been a hectic week and I wanted to give it some thought and time.
I'll start off with the good: I really do, again, appreciate you engaging here, and on the strength of that alone I am going to at least give Rascal's free articles a good solid chance for a while; I have been, admittedly, tarring it with the brush of a lot of frustrations (see below) and I know it's relatively new and still finding its place and should get a bit more of my patience. I also should note that while your article did hit on a lot of the patterns that have turned me - and no small amount of others - off of a lot of AP/TTRPG journalism it is by no means the worst example. The things you credited Burrow's End for are, admittedly, more obscure single-episode events within a huge body of work. Or in other words: there are bylines in the space that make me go "oh this is going to be bad" and yours is not one of them.
With that said: I'm sorry, but Polygon's bias is not a matter of time crunch or lack of funding. There is no way that a time crunch or lack of funding would consistently, over years (this was already word on the street at latest when EXU Calamity came out almost 2 years ago) result in a message of "D20 can do no wrong, and Critical Role rarely does right." If it were throwing out harsh criticism or glowing praise for a wide variety of shows, sure, that seems like it could come from not having a lot of time...but this goes beyond coincidence. It's a reputation that long precedes your entry into the field. As some others in the replies have noted, I might have written the most about it on Tumblr, but it's at this point not an uncommon observation. This also isn't an issue for other publications in a similar "nerd stuff" space - there's plenty of articles on, say, Dicebreaker or Comicbook.com that I don't care for, either because I disagree with the opinion or I think the analysis isn't really worthwhile, but those tend to at least have a mix of positive and critical articles about most shows. When I said you could treat Polygon articles like Madlibs, I meant it. And so I think it's great that you are no longer chasing "groundbreaking", for example, is not a solid ground for an article, but this also is showing me that even relatively new journalists are, very early on, starting with this exact formula. In some ways, that's more damning.
I do also want to add that I'm again, sympathetic to the lack of resources and to coming into a field with passionate and nitpicky fans who have been here for years. Not knowing about a single Critical Role one-shot from 2018 is something that I'd have been much more lenient about if it weren't hitting those repetitive notes of "D20 is great/this thing is groundbreaking/look at the production values." But the other article I posted, also from Polygon but not written by you, is, to be honest, pretty inexcusable. I get there's a lot of lost institutional memory...but either being unaware of, or ignoring the fact that there are a huge number of long-running actual play podcasts that play longform campaigns? That's pretty much on par, in terms of whether your audience trusts you, of the New York Times international news desk not being able to locate Russia on a map (though obviously with far less serious real-world ramifications). (The fact that this was written by a prominent actual play scholar meanwhile is like, I don't know, Neil DeGrasse Tyson not knowing how gravity works, but that's a separate topic).
And again, I get these are your colleagues. I have the luxury of being able to run my mouth without putting my livelihood at stake, and that's not true for people within the industry. I do not expect you to say anything ill about them, nor would I judge any specific individual for getting published in Polygon since I get that people are pitching to a number of sites so that they can get paid! But when I say "Polygon's AP/TTRPG coverage is at needs-a-change-of-leadership levels of bad" I am not alone in this, and it's something that has probably been true for easily 3+ years if not longer. Because it's one of the more prominent publications in the space (ironically, due to Justin McElroy of TAZ being a founder, and the fact that its videogame division is quite good and has had some viral videos, it had enviable name recognition among AP fans that it's only squandered since) it really is at a point where hitting that same formula in any AP journalism - claiming everything is groundbreaking, putting an emphasis on high production values, D20 good and CR bad - makes fans go "oh, more of this bullshit." I don't want to say you can't talk about these things - I definitely do not want to say that you cannot criticize Critical Role - but that specific well is has been poisoned for a long time. If someone hits these points it feels, whether or not it is true, that they're trying to be provocative by going against popular fan opinion, but are simultaneously just saying the same thing we've seen a million times before.
I believe wholeheartedly that from your perspective the competition is AI - and I don't want AI articles either. On the other hand, in terms of what I think fans who are in my position are turning to, it's not AI articles (I'm certainly not). If I want analysis, I'm probably, at this point, going to social media; I am not the only person who writes longform meta or analysis for fun, and I'll seek others who do out. I'm not personally a video essay person, but plenty are, and that's out there too. I'm not going there for reporting on news (I think the Dnd Shorts OGL debacle made it clear that actual journalists are very necessary) but yeah, if I want criticism or analysis? I'm going there instead, especially since there often is that missing institutional memory. If I do want journalism, at this point, some of the bigger shows are getting writeups in less niche publications, particularly Critical Role and D20, as is news of more major tabletop games. It's infrequent and it doesn't highlight indie works, but it tends to be, if nothing else, lacking in major errors or obvious bias. If I want to hear from cast members, at least four of the shows I watch or listen to have regular talkback shows, and Dropout regularly talks to AP/TTRPG figures on Adventuring Academy, and a lot of those shows take viewer questions. Which, again, probably not heartening to hear the competition is even tighter, but I guess my point is I hope it's possible, even with very limited resources, to move away from the above "novelty and production values above all" pattern because even that would do a lot of needed work to rebuild reader trust - and I'm going to be checking out Rascal in the hopes that it can.
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punkeropercyjackson · 16 hours
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When i was almost entierly friendless and lost in myself,lesbians and trans women gave me their friendship in the form of kind words,support,defending me,making things for me they knew i'd love,fun hangouts and did and have done nothing but make me love myself in my transmasculine and nonbinary/bigender girlhood even when i don't know them and are the type of woman i relate the most to like i do my fellow black women and i'm now dating a trans woman who was my best friend for a long time and stuck by me through stick and thin and i love them-they are pre op and e and have specifically asked for they/them until they can start their transition-with my entire heart,soul and life because they were exactly the person,the kinda girl i could've used in my life as a bullied autistic tomboy that was getting fucked up without even knowing it and i deeply admire my lesbian friends femme and butch alike for their amazing gender expression and how beautiful their love is and they've said the same about me
Lesbians and transfems are not hateful.They're wonderful people who're full of so much love and just because with the exception of my girlfriend that love's not romantic that dosen't make it any less valuable and you 'interfighting is stupid,we're supposed to be having t4t sex!!!' niggas need to lower your borderning on sexual harrassing voices because you sound like creepy douchebags and like conservatives too when you rag on 'f*mboys',a tma slur to begin with,for being too feminine and kiddy and cringe or whatever rethoric you haven't unlearned.If a lesbian or a trans girl dosen't like you,there's a very high chance you did something to provoke them or him or her or xem or [insert the neopronoun that will piss you off the most here]and you might've done it on purpose.The patriarchy dosen't stop at cishets and it's worth noting that pretty much all my trans guy friends are somewhere on the nonbinary spectrum.Don't be talkin' bout lesbians and tgirls being too harsh on men and having 'male experiences to analyze' at all actually,because you're implying a lot that never applies
If you want to be as much of a man as cis men,then you be prepared for the fact that you're as capable as misogyny as them,ESPECIALLY if you're cis passing and i never will be because i'm so femme presenting and naturally adrogynous looking thanks to being black/white that i find my looks perfect for my gender and i'm still a man just as i am a woman.Lesbians don't have fuck men to be 'real allies' and you can't make them the bad guy for not wanting men if you get to the good guy for not wanting to be near girlhood at all and unless they wish to be identified as such by multigenderhood or another factor,trans women have every right to not want to be lumped in with men or lack of gender at all.Intersectionality is very important.In all aspects.Not just when it might benefit you.Be serious just silly goofy little guys,you haven't been funny since you started that shit and i'm going to strap you to a Looney Tunes car unless you stop telling lesbians to stop defining themselves by not loving men and bullying tgirls for loving being girls.Those are my best friends and my girlfriend and my friends' friends you're harrasing you ungrateful cunts
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myreia · 2 days
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15 Lines of Dialogue Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you’re free to include those as well!
thanks for the tag, @thevikingwoman and @bearlytolerant, ty frens!
tagging: @roguelioness @lilas @galadae @ellstersmash @fourteenthz
@tsunael @birues @ardberts @gatheredfates @anneapocalypse
@impossible-rat-babies @coldshrugs @gefiltefished @consulaaris
sorry if you've been tagged before, I have... lost track of who has done what. 😂 No pressure, ofc! 💖 tags also for anyone else who would like to share their writing! Feel free to tag me even if I didn't tag you or even if we're not mutuals, I'd love to see what you're working on!!
These are from published (and one unpublished) ffxiv fics. Because a lot of my favourite Aureia lines happen within the context of banter, I had a hard time deciding what to cut and where.
— 1: Far From Happenstance [ARR]
“What’s that thing on your arm?” “This? Ah… well… Perhaps this conversation is best saved for later, perhaps in a less conspicuous place?” “Or we could have it now. Your choice.”
— 2: Uncertainty [ARR]
“Tailing unsuspecting women about the city is nothing to be proud of.” “I have done nothing of the sort! Our meetings have been no more than happenstance, a quirk of nature drawing us to the same spot at the same time. I assure you, Aureia, I am not following you—” She stifles a snort, laughter tugging at the corners of her lips. “Oh…” He blows out a breath. “Oh, you’re joking? That was a joke. You have an unfair sense of humour…” “Don’t make yourself such an easy target next time.”
— 3: To Ash and Ember [ARR]
Lahabrea stares at her, startled out of his victory, mouth twisted with contempt. “How—” Aureia raises a hand, palm sheathed in blinding light. “Get the fuck out of him, you bastard.”
— 4: Sand and Stone [ARR]
“This is good for us,” she says quietly. “The Scions, I mean. We’re exposed here. Ascians, Garleans… it’s only a matter of time before they try again. Mor Dhona will afford us some means of protection we’ve lost.”
— 5: Bitter Frost [ARR/HW]
“You press on,” she says after a moment. She cups her palm between them, subconsciously pulling on the aether around her. A faint flame sizzles to life, warming her fingers. “Guilt can only carry you so far before it bleeds you dry. Just know that the next time… the next time will be different. Better.”
— 6: Divergence of the Heart, Chp 5 [HW]
“I don’t care what they say about me. I’m a hero to some, a villain to others. I can live with it.” “You should not have to. If there was a way—” “Please, Aymeric, I’m begging you not to draft a new statute on my behalf. You can’t decree change and expect centuries-old beliefs to shift overnight.”
— 7: Divergence of the Heart, Chp 7 [HW]
“Happiness? What makes you think I’m happy with this? With any of this?” “You’re the Warrior of Light. Defender of Eorzea and a beacon of hope. Blessed by Hydaelyn and beloved by all. What possible reason could you have not to be?”  “Oh, fuck you.”
— 8: Divergence of the Heart, Chp 8 [HW]
She blinks. It shouldn’t be more simple than that. Does he not comprehend why this is so profoundly embarrassing? “And..?” “And how would this fact be of such radical importance that it would be the sole cause of a change in my opinion of you? Do you believe it so crucial to your identity that I should judge you differently for it?” “No, I don’t think that at all. I suppose I feel I’m… a failure, somehow. As a person.”
— 9: For All the Truths Left Unspoken [HW]
“Oh? Because you seem a little haggard, Thancred. Why don’t you look me in the eye and tell me what time you went to bed last night. Or if you went to bed at all, for that matter.” “It is not your concern—” “No, but you could have at least done the decency of admitting what was going on before you started fucking my friend.”
— 10: A Question of Desire [HW]
She cuts him off with a kiss. [Aymeric] groans softly, leaning into it, and she laughs with delight. “Save it for later,” she murmurs against his mouth.
— 11: Bound by Faith, Chp 2 [ShB]
“Under pain of further admonishment, I told her what I could.” “Nothing unfavourable, I trust,” she says drolly. “Who do you take me for, Aur?” “An idiot, if I’m being honest. Next question?” “…stumbled right into that one, didn’t I?” “Yes.” Her eyes sparkle with fondness. “You did.”
— 12: Bound by Faith, Chp 2 [ShB]
“There. That’s it. Aureia was a name I took by chance. Not because I wanted it, but because I needed it. An alias intended for Ul’dah alone, one I intended to relinquish the moment I could escape the city. But then you called me Aur and it… stuck.” She hesitates, her voice breaking. “I don’t know why it felt right, but it did. You gave me a name, Thancred, without even realizing that that was what you were doing.”
— 13: Bound by Faith, Chp 4 [ShB]
“They don’t hurt. At least, not like this. Sometimes, with astral fire…” She closes her eyes and swallows hard. “He did something to me, Thancred. Whether it was his intention or not, he left a mark that is more than skin deep. Like a part of his aether was seared onto mine. It makes me powerful, yes, but… my magic is not always controlled. It’s never been the same since then.”
— 14: Untitled Post-5.3. Fic, Chp 2
She glances at him and finds him glaring at her. It’s not a real glare—behind the dark look and mock exasperation is a knowing smile. “She’s taken full reign of the apartment. Mess everywhere. Looks like a tempest went through the place.” “Far too easy to imagine that.” “I don’t know where she gets it from.” “Oh, I know for certain. That’s the influence of your bad habits, not mine—” “I—listen here, you ass—” “Oh, an ass, am I? Bit early to deteriorate to name calling, no?”
— 15: Untitled Post-5.3. Fic, Chp 4
“Aur… that suite I mentioned earlier… I was quite serious about it.” “The suite or the sex you want to have with me in it?” “The whole matter.” She pauses, holding the soup out to him. “You should finish it,” she says quietly.
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coeluvr · 3 days
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hi i’ve read chap 3 and sighs. stares at luceris,,, this is becoming a problem, i want his approval like i want my asian parent’s approval which bodes well with absolutely nobody. like he’s never actually going to care or have a deep bond with my mc but i just 😭😭😭 i feel so complicated abt him 😭😭😭 he’s genuinely the worst sometimes but i also?? desperately want him to be proud of my mc???? am i colourblind???why am i latching onto the worst possible option when the character with the blinding “potential father figure” sign is literally right there??? i don’t think i can genuinely pray on his downfall when i read how my mc and him banters in their own insane way 😭😭😭 i want to amuse him 😭😭 i love how we can literally call him old and he’ll just roll his eyes 😭😭 i love how he tries encouraging mc to find love and how it can lead to either an incredibly strange sincere moment, slight concern or just silly banter abt matchmaking. my mc is non-revenge bc i don’t have the heart to do revenge in any story ever (my heart yearns for the healing journey) but ill still make my mc slightly insane just for him, and then in my head they can heal a little and maybe be marginally less insane together even if my mc will never forget and forgive him for the murder thing(im delusional). maybe im projecting onto luceris and my mc which is severely worrying, i predict this becoming an Issue further into the story
anyways sorry that was rlly long. i have very complicated feelings about that man. as you can see i have a tendency to look at the absolute worst options available and go “can they be my parent pretty please” i’m desperate for approval from literally anyone, even insane fictional murderers it seems
I saw the last ask you sent in and was waiting for you to read chapter 3 because I felt it in my bones that you'd like their dynamic lmao 😭
Honestly, I don't think you're odd for seeing Luceris in an almost parental light because I feel that he has some moments that truly do give off parental energy, even more than Lancelot. Maybe it is more insane uncle energy, I don't know.
I think he might also feel more parental or mentor like for MCs that are angrier / on the revenge route because it's like they're almost the same, you know? It's as if MC looked at him and said "I wanna be you" 😭💀
I do have to say it's probably an unhealthy dynamic though 😭 as are basically all of the dynamics with him...
I love long asks like this one so don't worry! I'm happy you're enjoying it (?) despite all of the complicated feelings it brings. And welcome to this little group of ours here! 💗
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creaturefeaster · 7 months
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REDE AND CHICKENSTAB HOST SWAP??? That’s so silly omg I love…. I wanna know what they’d think about that👀
Chickenstab feels weird and gross being vaguely clammy all the time, and the host makes him feel a little slow and confused and a little too brain foggish, so he's like. You live like this?????? okay.
Rede on the other hand fails to see the appeal Cstab has for his own host. Rede feels like his brain is running a million miles a minute, feels too obsessive over things he usually never cares about, and just because he'd be so used to his own host at this point, he feels awkwardly stiff & uncomfortably dry.
Many hosts only suit a few select mime's preferences and needs, and they wouldn't stay swapped for any longer than their curiosity urges them to.
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