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leftrightnomin · 7 months

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Please, Sir! || Yuta Nakamoto

Pairing: Yuta Nakamoto x Reader

Summary: You found yourself sitting at the dinner table of the Nakamoto household. Rest assured that you are safe for the night. Maybe.

Genre: Smut, Rated R (18+), Bestfriend's Dad x Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Unprotected sex (wrap it up, ppl), Cheating (Yuta is married), Praise kink, Begging, Degradation, Fingering, Lots of dirty talking, Size kink, Oral sex (nky receiving), Dumbification,

A/N: Hi, did anyone miss me? Well, here's a little something for all of you. Enjoy!

~ • ~ •~ • ~ •~ • ~ •~ • ~

You had been trying to avoid going to the Nakamoto’s home. You were trying to avoid conflict with your best friend's smoking-hot father, Yuta. It wasn't like you were always around their home, Giselle lived in her own apartment. For that reason, you were thankful. When you were younger and in college you would often go over for dinner with Giselle or she’d go to your family’s house. But it wasn’t necessary anymore. You were both grown adults now with 9 to 5 jobs to attend to.

This time, however, Julia A.K.A Mrs. Nakamoto was throwing a small dinner party for their family, close friends, and relatives. Apparently, Mr. Nakamoto got promoted at his company and from what you heard, the newly acquired title comes with a six-figure salary. A big deal really. Giselle had told you that her mom and dad wanted you there.

Of course, your father would want me there. You thought.

It wouldn't be an actual crisis if you and Yuta weren't indulging in each other's warmth behind closed doors, away from his family's eyes. Or anyone at all. You'd have to be playing the poker face like crazy at the dinner table to protect what you and Yuta shared. Certainly, you wouldn’t do anything with him with all the people around.

But still, you are sure that you will be having a hard time pretending. Not now and obviously not sooner. Not when you've had a taste of the great Yuta Nakamoto. You were in for a long night now that you knew what he was like, how good he was, how wild he could get, and just how hot and filthy he could be.

You made the choice to use a panty liner solely because you thought it would be handy. Having your panties wet and also probably your pants or anything to show through your clothing wouldn't look good. You didn't anticipate needing it, but you were also aware of how frail you had become from a quick glimpse of Mr. Nakamoto.

If he even extended his hug or spoke to you in a deep, seductive voice or if he smiled too broadly while flashing those dimples, you were pretty well doomed. So, yes, for practical reasons, merely a just-in-case moment, you wore pantyliners.

You were picked up by Giselle as scheduled. The trip to The Nakamotos' home took close to 30 minutes.

"Are you alright?" Giselle maintained her focus on the road. She detected something about you. She simply had no idea what.

"Yeah. No doubt. Why?"

"You've been quiet since you got in my car. It reminds me of when we first met in junior high or worse," she chuckled as she hastily cast a short glance your way.

Prior to her arrival, you made an effort to relax. You calmed your stiff body and mind through meditation, chamomile tea, and a bite of dried ginger. You practiced some meditative yoga while listening to soothing background music. And you thought it was beneficial.

But as soon as Yuta's text message chimed into your phone, your pulse shot up and you started to sweat heavily. All that effort you put into calming yourself was for nothing.

He didn't say anything other than that he was anticipating seeing you after asking you if you were still coming. There it was. His communications contained nothing sexually explicit or provocative. Without trying, he did that to you. Hence the need for wearing pantyliners was a must.

You shook your head and laughed at your friend's remark. "No, I'm alright. Just worn out. Last night at the restaurant was a long one. Not exactly a lie, but I had barely arrived home by midnight."

And that appeared to be a suitable response. Giselle didn't inquire more about your strange behavior that evening at least.

There were Yuta's brother and his wife. The parents, husband, and cousin of Mrs. Nakamoto, a friend from down the street and a neighbor. Then, you and Giselle. That's it.

A delightful modest supper with dessert was served along with drinks. some musical selections. It was lovely to see everyone chatting while outside. However, you were agitated and making an effort to force yourself to stop staring at the man of the moment. Your cheeks and neck warmed up each time your sight met his, sending shivers down your spine.

Control yourself, Y/N.

It's a celebratory dinner for Pete's sake.

You shouldn't even be thinking of it.

You got along well with Yuta over dinner. He treated you as the best friend of his daughter. It was good yet at the same time you detested it.

You wished you could join everyone else in laughing at his jokes while sitting on his lap and encircling his shoulders. You desired to boldly kiss him in front of his crowd and hold his hand. But it was clear that wouldn't happen.

The man's wife was always close by. And after all, he was only secretly yours. With the door locked, in your apartment, and covered in fabrics. He was only yours in the absence of sight and hearing of others.

At supper, you barely gave him a glance as you were eating. Not even when he was speaking to everyone and expressing gratitude for their attendance. You restrained yourself from glancing at his face. You admired how his eyes sparkled and how his lips twitched, how he made motions with his hands and ringed fingers while he spoke, and most importantly, his smile. You knew it would only cause you trouble if you did.

At the conclusion of his little thank-you speech, he turned to face you and raised his glass. Along with the others, you raised yours skyward before taking a sip collectively eyes fixed on him. Even if it just lasted a few seconds, it made you warm. Hot enough to have your thighs pressed closely together beneath your white linen dress.

When everyone was mingling and strolling around the backyard, Yuta had the chance to walk up to you.

He placed his hand on your bare shoulder and whispered into your ear, "I missed you, sweetheart."

All of your encounters with her took place there at your residence. He sometimes spends a night there and even a whole full day.

However, you were scheduled to work and cover for a few servers who couldn't arrive for whatever reason because you had been busy. Additionally, Yuta was absent for nearly a week due to a business trip. Typically, you and Yuta met once a week at most. He hadn't spent any time in your bed in a few weeks.

It's true—you really did miss him.

"Do not leave until you and I are able to have a chat."

He squeezed at your exposed skin as he emphasized the word chat, and as he started to leave, he glanced down at you and winked.

A panty liner was indeed required.

You assisted Giselle in replenishing some of the empty bottles and replacing the cooler's ice. You made an effort to keep busy and avoid thinking about what Yuta wanted to "chat" about. Or suppose "chat" was a code word for something different.

At the gathering, a neighbor approached you and entertained you with his jokes. He appeared to be friendly and outgoing with everyone. You could understand his invitation and the Nakamoto's preference for him as a close friend. He was extremely hilarious. In fact, chatting to him and hearing his outrageous college narrative got you thinking back to your own experience while making you giggle. He assisted you in temporarily forgetting about your small taboo affair. He temporarily distracted you from Yuta.

Yet, Yuta didn't like how you and Johnny were laughing.

You were smiling when Johnny gently took hold of your forearm and moved in to speak to you. And so, when the man stood right next to you and your new friend, the brief respite you got from thinking about Yuta and swooning over him abruptly ended.

"Y/N, I need your assistance with something," He furrowed his brow and indicated the home, "Would you help me, please?"

Oh.

You took a breath and nodded, "Sure, Mr. Nakamoto."

You gave Johnny a courteous grin and walked with the broad-shouldered guy into his house.

Yuta escorted you upstairs and into a spacious bathroom which was never used in silence. He quickly ushered you inside and secured the door with a click sound of the door lock. He undid the cuffs from his pale pink button-up shirt while you watched in silence, then raised his eyes to meet yours as he rolled the material up his forearms.

"Isn't Johnny a great guy?" Yuta finally spoke up, leaning against the wide vanity sink with the wall-length mirror opposite him and crossing his arms over his wide chest.

"Yeah," you smiled sheepishly as you nodded, "He is nice. Funny too."

Yuta pursed his lips and slowly scanned your figure, taking you in.

He had seen your attire and had daringly glanced at you all evening, but he was unable to hold his stare for very long. Hence, nothing he experienced was gratifying. It wasn't enough to allow himself to see your ass's curvature or the point where your neck and jaw connected. He was now relieved that he was finally able to get the close look at you that he had been craving for all night.

"What were you two discussing?" Yuta jutted out his hips and displayed his stunning bulge for you as he uncrossed his arms and placed his palms on the marble top of the vanity behind him.

Acting with knowledge, I see.

"Well, sir, absolutely nothing actually. He was relating stories to me from his time in university. We were exchanging stories from college."

"Yeah? Did you discover after that the two of you have a lot in something in common?" He furrowed his brow.

You glanced briefly at his crotch before returning to his face. It was an uninvited glance. He saw where your eyes wandered, and even though you didn't mean to, it made him smile.

"No. Not really," you thought as you reciprocated his sly grin with your own and crossed your arms over your chest.

Over the months, you had grown to know him a little, and this small detail about him straight away made you feel at peace. He liked playing with you, teasing and building up your hunger for his heat.

"Why do you have a lot of questions about Johnny? Are you perhaps interested in him?" You crack a joke.

"No, I'm not," said Yuta, cocking his head and widening his grin. "Come, move closer."

You took the few sluggish steps necessary to narrow the distance between you two while biting your lip and uncrossing your arms. Your hips aligned with his as soon as you were within arm's reach of him.

"I'm just worried that I haven't been able to fuck you in what?" He then pulled you into him by your waist and said, "A span of three weeks?"

You chuckled softly and nodded, "Almost, 18 days to be exact."

Yuta smirked, "Counting the days without my cock are you?"

You placed your arms around his shoulders, saying, "Yes," with a big smile and a giggle. "I missed you so much, Mr. Nakamoto."

Yuta admired your lips briefly before returning her attention to your eyes, "Unfortunately, the house is crowded with visitors."

You frowned, "I'll be quiet, Sir. I promise."

"I bet you'd love for me to bend you over so I can fuck you right now in this bathroom, wouldn't you?" Yuta murmured in a low, raspy voice as he moved one of his hands up to your face and thumbed over your cheekbone.

You quickly separated your lips while nodding, "Yes, please, Sir. "

Yuta scolded, "So filthy. So fucking desperate. Do you need me that much, baby?" As you reached your tongue out to taste it, his thumb lightly touched your bottom lip.

You looked at his eyes with lust and a hint of greed. You needed his cock so bad. You wailed as you attempted to encircle his thumb with your lips, but he quickly withdrew his hand from your grasp. He was suddenly slipping between your legs and was pulling you such that you were pulled up onto the counter.

"When was the last time you had an orgasm?" he asks as his palms go underneath your dress and grab hold of your thighs.

Your words were breaths, "This morning."

"Really, how horrible was it? You don't seem to be content with anything. You used your fingers, right?"

"Yes, Sir. I used my clit sucker, too," you grinned and ran your fingers down his chest, "Pretended it was you between my legs."

Despite how cool he was behaving, you could see his dick hardening in his trousers and knew he was getting turned on.

"And you're still in such need? Does your little pussy require a lot of care or are you just pure filthy greedy for it?

"A little bit of both, Sir, " You let out a heavy breathe.

"I bet you're drenched as hell."

You gasped as you saw what he was about to find as his hands traveled upward toward your panties. Your wet underwear liner. Hardly that, seductive.

He stopped with a perplexed expression when his index finger touched the crotch of your pants. It felt unique not typical.

"Are you perhaps on your period, angel?" He said as he examined your underwear by pushing your legs apart and removing your dress.

When he ran his fingers down the edge of the cotton in your panty liner, he recognized what it was which earned you a light frustrated groan.

"No," you jerked your head. "It was only for keeping dry."

Yuta licked his lips and poked his middle finger beneath the crotch of your pants, and when he grasped what you meant, his eyebrows went up. Your underwear was dry, but the liner was sodden. As he kissed your lips, his fingers found your crease and softly played with it.

Both his fingers and the kiss were gentle and easy. He massaged your soaking pussy lips while you whimpered and ran your hands through his hair.

He kissed you briefly before removing his hands from your underwear and saying, "Like I said, our home is crowded with people."

"I bet your wet pussy would feel fantastic wrapped around my cock, right now," he kissed you soft lips once again. "I'm going to fuck my fist tonight thinking about how wet you got for me before I even touched you, princess."

"Please, Sir. Please." Angry, you yanked at his hands and begged, "I'll keep quiet, I promise. We can do it silently. I just —,"

You let your head down and closed your eyes tightly from too much need and frustration.

He raised you chin so that you could meet his equally lustful eyes, "Wow. Look at you. So frustrated and needy."

"I don’t know baby," you felt his hands on your thighs again. "I really don’t think it’s a good idea.”

He squeezed your thighs, his eyes growing darker and the bulge under his pants, pushing hard at his zipper.

“Please, fuck me, Mr. Nakamoto,"

"You’re the only one that can satisfy me,”

"I really need your cock,"

You were practically a mess by the time, begging so desperately for what you've been need the past eighteen days.

Yuta let out a laugh through his nose and shook his head, “Although that's a fact, I still think it's just too risky.”

Although he held your thighs firmly in place and used his pink tongue to moisten his lips as he peered down at your cleavage, his body language belied what he had just stated.

You were aware of the risk as well. However, you had another thought. You'd already politely asked him even added a please. He just wanted to continue acting as though he didn't care about you. He wanted you to beg for him.

And you did. Like a whore thirsty for cock, you desperately did.

"I want your cock, Mr. Nakamoto,"

"I don't think a toy will do for tonight,"

"I really fucking need your cock,"

He knew he had the upper hand, "You're gonna have to be patient little one."

You figured he'd hear you pleading with him once more. Of course, with a bargain in mind.

"Sir, I cannot wait now. It hurts," you pouted.

You brought his hand back to your front and held it in place, "Feel me, Mr. Nakamoto. Feel my aching clit hungry for your touch."

He shut his eyes and clinched his jaw as you stared. He was aware that you were playing with him to get what you want. After all, he was already wrapped around your tiny little fingers.

"Oh my sweet, sweet princess,"

"Would Johnny reject my request if I made it?" You asked with a raised brow as your last attempt of seducing him.

"You are such a fucking brat, princess," he shook his head, eyes glaring intensely at yours.

His comments sounded mean but they sounded so good to your ears. Accompanied with a smirk on his flushed face, he pulled your pants with its liner down your legs, tossing it onto the floor, and immediately undid his pants, pulling his cock out from the front of his briefs.

When you first saw his girthy, warm cock unconstrained, you couldn't help but groan. You moved to the edge and positioned your bare feet on the counter top so you were spread out and readily available for him to access as you reached down to touch him. Ready for him to ruin.

"Is this what you were hungry for?" Yuta already had lust in his eyes, His gaze was heavy as he eyed you and cupped his cock in his hand while holding his tip to your wet hole and asking,

"Mhmm," you hummed as you felt the tip of his pulsating cock.

"Wanted to be fucked by a married man in the guest bathroom?"

Fuck, his voice sounds so good.

"Wanted to get with my daughter and wife merely down there?"

So fucking good.

"Wanted me to fuck you with a house full of strangers wondering where I am?" Yuta's strong voice eventually broke through your tight muscle as he spoke lowly into your ear.

"Fuck, yes please, Sir." You desperately nodded, "I don't care if there's people downstairs. All I want is your cock."

"You better be true to your word, sweetheart." Yuta warned you. "Be quiet or else, I'll stop."

"Yes… yes," you mumbled as gently as you could and clung to his shoulders to keep yourself steady, as you gasped at the way his huge cock started to push past your soft and wet walls.

Yuta watched as his cock gently dipped inside your pussy and heaved a trembling breath mingled with a gasp. You were already so drenched in your own juice that Yuta could hear when he pulled back an inch before diving in even deeper.

"Fuck!"

"Can't help myself, Y/N. You're pussy is choking my cock so deliciously."

He started to push and cant his hips, sinking so far into your cunt that each time he came to the bottom, his balls hit you "My sweet girl is doing such an excellent job taking me in."

Yuta pushes in accompanied with either a soft groan or a whimper.

"Ugh, so tight sweetheart,"

Thrusts in.

"Fuck, yes,"

Pulls out.

"Ooh, more please,"

In.

"So good,"

Out.

You were relieved that the only sounds were gasps, pants, and the sound of a pussy being pounded.

Yuta leaned in so he could reach for your lips and fuck you slowly, trying his best to minimize the sound of skin sticking and slapping while you clung tightly to his shoulders.

Your limbs were starting to tire, and your head was spinning from too much pleasure. Your thighs were kept wide by Yuta's painful yet pleasurable grip.

"Fuck, Yuta," You gasped as he released one of your thighs and put his thumb to your clit exactly as you needed, "Right there, Mr. Nakamoto. Don't stop, please!"

This was one of the things you couldn't resist. He always understood your needs perfectly.

"Here?" He smirked as he started to lose rhythm while fucking into you. "Do I make you feel good, baby? Are you gonna come for me?"

"Oh fuck yes," you covered your mouth in an attempt to silence your moans. "So good, Mr. Nakamoto. You're cock fills so fucking good."

Your stomach started to burn and your thighs began trembling as Yuta's lips remained over your mouth and he kept rocking his hips in. You sobbed into his mouth and tightened your hold on his shoulders.

"Such desperate little whore you are," Yuta himself said in a tense, labored voice as he felt his balls contract. "Couldn't even wait for a couple more days,"

He always met his demise too quickly thanks to you. He felt like he was a horny teenager once again every time he was with you. There is no turning back when it comes to you. Your immaculate, tight and slick pussy, complete with bedroom eyes and full lips — he wanted it. He had a similar burning desire for you. He desperately need you.

“Desperate for you, Mr. Nakamoto," You panted and felt the hot decadence of your insides begin to unfurl as Yuta’s thumb expertly rubbed and circled your clit. "Want you so bad. I'll let you ruin me all day and all night."

He sensed you starting to close in on him and, anticipating your climax, "M'coming, Mr. Nakamoto. So fucking close, fuck!"

"Come for me, sweetheart," he covered your mouth with his. "Come all over my hard cock."

You saw stars and writhed onto his thumb as he continued to thrust into you with deep, powerful strokes while he kissed you hungrily. He was couldn't help himself back either at each twitch your cunt made and the slick noises of your pouring orgasm.

"Fuck, baby. I'm gonna come,"

"Come inside me, Sir," you caressed his hair as you came down your own high, "Give it all to me."

"Fuck," He rutted into you forcefully while panting into your mouth, shoving himself so deeply that his come could adequately coat every part of your body. "Oh, feels so good, Y/N."

He slowly drew away from you and then fucked himself back into you until he was balls-deep in you, all of his juices smothered your warm walls.

He pulled your legs up over his hips as he leaned in to kiss you, removing his thumb from your overstimulated clit and placing both hands on your thighs. His cock was still pulsing as he came down, and as he pressed his mouth against yours.

You laughed in his face, "Mr. Nakamoto, we were both desperate for release."

Knowing that he was in the same situation as you made you smile.

You finally dropped your legs as Yuta gently hissed at how sensitive he felt as he pushed himself away from the kiss. It wasn't the same, despite the fact that he had been torturing himself with thoughts of you every night. He desired your pussy to be content, just as you desired for his cock.

Not only his cock, either.

Him.

Mr. Nakamoto was essential.

It started to become an obsession. Your obsession.

Yuta brought his finger up to your lips after dragging it along the area where his come was starting to escape from you. He smiled at your greed as you quickly sucked his warm sperm from his fingers.

Your cheek was lovingly stroked by his knuckles as he said, "You are my sweet daughter, aren't you?"

You chuckled and gave him a sly smile, "You're just too hard to resist, Sir."

"What day off are you taking next?"

"Wednesday. Why?" You gave him an expectant smile.

"Stay free on that day." He handed you your underwear and casually stated, "I'm coming over," before pulling his pants back up.

"What if I already had plans that day?" You hopped down from the counter while grinning as your panties were being dragged up your legs.

He encircled you, palms flat on the vanity counter on either side of your hips lightly pinning you against the counter, "Cancel them."

Why would you refuse? You couldn't even though you should. You even loved to tease him a little, but you weren't going to anyhow. With him, you can never say no. It's the same way as he could never resist you.

"Okay. Fine. My scheduled has been moved, Sir. Considering how lost and hopeless you are without me."

Yuta shook his head and laughed through his nose, "Such a mouthy brat."

He gave you one final kiss before straightening himself up in the mirror and exiting the bathroom as if he hadn't just screwed his daughter's best friend while his spouse and other relatives were present.

You groaned and smiled as you turned to face the mirror. Such a mistake. But he was in such excellent spirits.

And even though he was married, you were well aware that he belonged to you.

#nct #nct127 #nctnation #smartist #nakamoto yuta #nct yuta #nct smau #nct smut #nct imagines #nct scenarios #kpop smut #kpop scenarios #nct u #nct universe #nctzen #czennie

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utilitycaster · 1 month

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@rowzeoli replied to your post “Do you think part of the D20 journalistic bias...”:

I rarely go on tumblr so sorry if you see me spamming your posts tonight, but I really enjoy your perspective and thoughts! I think I'm the journalist you're referencing in regards to the Fantasy High Junior Year article and unfortunately 1) journalists only get access to interview subjects at very specific junctions (usually press day before the series goes out or halfway through) 2) most publications are honestly Going Through It and cutting freelance rates and just not paying to cover AP

So I'll be totally honest - I post on Tumblr because I assume it is far more unlikely to be seen and so I can vent freely (hence the fairly harsh tone of the criticism in the original post), but I guess this is a chance to clarify. I don't expect anything to change, nor do I expect you to respond; indeed, I wouldn't blame you if you block me after this. But if readership is down (and who knows? maybe it's not and I'm the outlier), this may be illuminating.

The issue with your specific article - which I brought up relatively tangential to the larger point of "at this point I think Polygon's AP/TTRPG coverage is a waste of time to read" isn't really that it's only an early look at the series; and because Fantasy High Junior Year is at this time ongoing, it's honestly entirely valid that there hasn't been a follow-up. It's, well, the "surface-level and factually wrong" issue.

Dimension 20 was by no means the pioneer of remote recording as you claim in your article; that had long been the default of smaller recorded AP shows well before pandemic lockdown for the simple reason that if you're not a media company the overhead is very low - no need to have a dedicated space or even cameras beyond decent laptops. Burrow's End's puppetry? Critical Role's Call of Cthulhu: Shadow of the Crystal Palace did shadow puppets in 2019. They had diagetic audio on the main campaign as early as 2016. I don't even like Kollok, but that's had complex set design since 2019. Meanwhile premise of the article is yet another rehash of Polygon's "Dimension 20 is CHANGING THE GAME" constant drumbeat, while your actual pull quotes from Brennan Lee Mulligan are him musing that this is simply an entry in an ancient tradition of storytelling and isn't, in fact, terribly novel. The interview fails utterly to back up your point and indeed contradicts it; I get that the timeline was probably tight but this is outright incorrect in multiple places and your argument isn't just unsupported; it's outright dismissed by the very person you claim is proving it. If the premise came before the interview, it needed to be reworked afterwards, and if it came after the interview…I'm not sure what to say, really.

This isn't your article, and I'm putting it here to illustrate that this has been a pattern for Polygon's AP coverage specifically. This article about Worlds Beyond Number is perhaps my favorite example of "this is not serious journalism:" Rusty Quill Gaming, The Adventure Zone, Friends at the Table, and NADDPod are all theater of the mind long-running podcasts (RQG's campaign lasted a whopping 7 years of real time) and that's just off the top of my head; the idea of a long-running edited audio podcast being novel is laughable. RQG and TAZ both started at level 1; I'm not personally familiar with Friends at the Table. I don't actually think starting at level 1 vs. 2 is terribly important in storytelling in the first place other than that a few D&D classes pick their subclass at L2 and that choice can be narratively relevant, which it was in TAZ; however, some classes pick a subclass at L3 so you can still achieve this with a level 2 start (as Critical Role's second campaign does). Both Emily Axford of NADDPod and Griffin McElroy of TAZ have long been composing their own music and RQG is heavily sound designed. These are not obscure pulls, either; these are some of the more well-known names in the space.

At this point, Polygon AP/TTRPG articles - by multiple different writers - simply feel like madlibs: "(actual play show) is groundbreaking in its (thing that other shows have been doing for 5+ years); I especially liked (visual effect) and (incorrect understanding of TTRPG mechanics)."

The people I allude to in the post you responded to as having egregiously uncharitable and sanctimonious takes on Daggerheart (within, again, hours of its publication) are a frequent Polygon contributor and a Rascal editor and they further my mistrust of those publications: There is this constant insistence that everything they like be "groundbreaking" and "innovating" and they will claim this even when it's demonstrably not the case, as the above examples note. As Mulligan says in your article "it’s important to keep new artists with new experiences and backgrounds flowing in," and yet by focusing intensely on high production values (difficult for smaller indie upstarts to have) and by incorrectly claiming that a well-established media company within the space like D20 invented a number of things it flat out did not, this journalism is actively, if unintentionally, working against that goal. As I put it elsewhere, Polygon's bizarre pedestaling of Dimension 20 and simultaneous putdowns of Critical Role (which turn into wild contortions when D20 mainstays like Mulligan or Aabria Iyengar collaborate with CR; for that matter others besides me have observed that Polygon acts like Spenser Starke is two different people, the genius who created Alice is Missing and the knuckle-dragging moron who put out Candela Obscura and Daggerheart) coupled with the obsession with production values over story has the whiff of claiming they're the champion of the little guy for sticking it to the 700 lb gorilla in the space and then focusing on 500 lb gorillas while making it impossible for smaller monkeys to compete because most brand new shows without the name recognition of someone like Mulligan involved can't exactly hire Rick Perry to do their models or Taylor Moore to do sound design.

I suppose a good way to put this, since I've run into this in many spaces, not just AP/TTRPG or even journalism, is that bias on its own in a subjective medium isn't inherently bad; but if something is so nakedly biased against something I love, I will, naturally, turn to it with a far more critical eye, and if its arguments are not ironclad I'm going to start noticing every structural issue in every argument and every tiny mistake. Sure, as a fan of Critical Role, and as someone who feels that Kollok was nigh-unwatchable and that Burrow's End was promising in parts but deeply flawed, I disagreed with Polygon's nonstop mud-slinging towards the former and glowing, verging on fawning reviews of the latter two. But that's not entirely damning on its own; I do get that not everyone will like Critical Role and that some people will love Kollok or Burrow's End for valid reasons. What's damning is the journalism itself is riddled with factual errors and the analysis is so weak that to call the arguments a flimsy house of cards would be generous. The opposite is also true; if Polygon's lead editor were out here repeatedly misspelling the name of one of the main characters in Worlds Beyond Number (note: this has since been corrected) but the articles had compelling arguments, even ones I disagreed with, I'd be far more forgiving, but as is? It's offering me absolutely nothing: it's poorly researched, it's poorly structured, it's poorly written, it's poorly copy-edited, and it shits on things I like seemingly just for clicks. I'm done giving clicks.

I am deeply sympathetic to the pressures facing digital journalism and media and the arts in general; as someone who is fortunate enough not to personally face those pressures and has the income to be a patron, I would love to help in my small way (and I do, at least, financially support a number of the AP shows I love). But the quality of some of this journalism is truly so bad that I can't bring myself to support the institutions putting it out; it's "dead dove do not eat" until such time as someone whose analysis and opinions I do trust cites them (or, perhaps, until there is a sea change of lead editorship). I know that this won't help the crunch, and may make it worse, but I just can't because the quality is so poor. I don't have a good solution to how to write about something that takes a lot of time to watch and process and about which the articles pay very little in return, but the current strategy of bouncing between uninformed provocateur and utter sycophant depending on the show and creators; of drooling over such surface features as shiny production and falsely claiming everything is "groundbreaking" while getting the most basic facts wrong has driven me away.

#rowzeoli #i'm leaving this rebloggable but other people...try to be respectful i will turn off reblogs if need be.#long post

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hai7ani · 9 months

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CHERRY BLOSSOMS haitani rindou

sfw, nothing happens

home collection | playlist

part ii / i just want you to take me where your heart is.

Rindou is having trouble falling asleep.

He's got a 10 o'clock with the higher ups first thing in the morning. Rindou vividly remembers asking his direct supervisor, Kimura-san on what the meeting is about as soon as he was notified about it.

He’s thought it through -- there is no reason for them to want to see him personally (he’s sure he’s never given them one), nor does he remember doing anything that might have seem out of line, or perhaps appeared a little too out of place in the company. A meeting of only him with the higher ups? It's scary even for someone like Haitani Rindou to face.

"That's exactly it, Haitani. You've been a bit too out of place lately."

Fuck-

"And by that, I mean, you've been showing off brilliant work."

" . . . Excuse me?"

Kimura-san chuckles and brings a wrinkled hand up to pat his junior's back as they walk side by side together through the long corridor that leads to the break room. Rindou fixes his tie out of habit and holds a sealed envelope tight in his hand -- the paper almost crumpled -- as he brings himself together to listen to his senior's words.

"You've been doing great, Haitani. Awesome performance, extremely satisfying work and you're very punctual. Believe me, I'm glad I chose the right person to nominate for this promotion. I've been watching you ever since you started working here as a clerk, and I have to say, I'm proud of you, boy. You've been working hard every day for . . . How long has it been? Five months? Your dedication is worth congratulating. Keep it up, young man. And don't worry about the meeting, it's all part of the promotion process. You'll be fine."

Though Kimura-san's attempt at comforting him worked that day, it certainly failed miserably today. It's less than 7 hours to when he'll soon be standing in front of a conference room facing the Chief Executive and his subordinates, and he doesn’t know why.

What if it goes bad and it's not the kind of meeting that Kimura-san said it would be? What if they're there to tell me I'm rejected for the promotion? Or even worse, fired and-

Rindou suddenly hears a certain conversation of Ran and himself echoing in his head. The loud yet timid 16 year old Rindou and the childish and arrogant 17 year old Ran, that is.

"Keep up that long face and I'll smack you right square, bro. I've taught you better than this. Stop doubting everything and believe it'll go well instead. Determination pays off, you know."

"Idiot. You think everyone in the world is capable of chasing a girl their first time? Especially someone like me?"

"Why wouldn't they? Why wouldn’t you? Look, I've made sure that she likes you back. Shion even told her about how you'd waited 2 hours for her to get off work jus’ to walk her home the other day. Trust me, shitty brother, she's definitely into you too."

"Shion did what?" "You heard me."

"And about that, of course everyone is capable, because I did it." Ran proudly flashes a hardcopy of him and a girl hugging with a cheeky grin. The older boy never misses a chance at showing off, especially to his younger brother who is absolutely sick of him. Rindou moves closer to get a proper look and immediately recognises her as the girl in Ran’s class he’s been courting for months. They’re high school sweethearts now? Unbelievable.

He scoffs at the older boy, "you really did it, huh?"

There’s a certain warm and proud feeling swarming in Rindou’s chest as he gapes at the lovesick grin stuck on Ran’s stupid face. It’s what he deserves, Rindou thought. Ran’s been through hell and back trying to court this girl.

Neither young Ran nor young Rindou knows that in 15 years time, Rindou would be calling Ran's high school sweetheart his sister-in-law and stealing recipes and life hacks from.

"Fuck yeah, dude. So like I said, just do it now or you'll miss your chance and regret it for-fuckin'-ever. Also, just for your information, 'cause I'm Haitani Ran and I'm also your big bro and feel the extreme need to tell you," Ran nods his head to the direction behind Rindou. "There's a guy hitting up your missus at the counter."

Rindou has never snapped his head back so fast.

He sees a man who's about a year or two older than him holding a piece of paper and pen to you by the counter, his mouth moving a lot and you’re listening intently.

Rindou immediately regrets not learning how to lip read.

Though he is certain the man must have said something out of line because he sees you adjusting the collar of your uniform and you’re biting your lip nervously. He knows you by your habits and by looking at that, he's sure you’re feeling uncomfortable by the man’s presence. Rindou wants nothing more than to smack the sly smirk off the man’s face right away, so he stands up.

He'll win this fight.

The loud creak of the wooden chair sliding against the marble floor catches your attention and you shake your head at him with a frown.

I’m fine.

Rindou understands that much from your eyes and sits back down again, with Ran who has an arm hooked behind the chair observing he situation with an amused smirk.

The idiot lives for chaos. "Maybe this'll teach him a lesson." Ran murmurs beneath his breath as he observes how Rindou's leg is bouncing anxiously against the marble beneath his shoe, watching you and the man like a hawk.

You have a soft smile plastered on your lips as you bow at him politely, rejecting his advances.

"I'm sorry, sir . . .

But I already have someone."

Lovestruck Rindou witnesses your pretty little face look away from the man to him. You with the pretty glint in your eyes, staring deep into his surprised purple ones and him who is now a blushing mess as he fakes a cough and push his round metal glasses higher onto his nose. You see his reaction and it almost makes you giggle but you remain collected as you try to get the man in front of you to leave the store, telling him you're not interested and you have to get back to work.

And it's when he finally does, all beat and ruined, when Rindou's legs moves over to the counter -- to you -- almost automatically. He stands in front of you and suddenly it’s blank in his mind. His mouth is ajar as he tries to remember what he's came here to say.

(Rindou to this day still argues and swears it was your overwhelming presence and especially your pretty smile that's made him forget his words while he fiddled with the hem of his black turtleneck like a damn loser.)

Come up with something, you idiot. Quick.

"Rindou-kun?" Oh, good fucking gracious. That voice. The sweet voice that will be the absolute end of him.

He musters up everything in him to speak.

" . . . D'ya wanna go out with me? For lunch tomorrow. I’ll pick you up and we’ll go together. Anywhere you want . . . As boyfriend and girlfriend, that is."

You're silent for a minute, and Rindou feels his heart race. It’s hot and humid all of a sudden and he feels like digging a hole and jumping right into it and he doesn't dare look at you and he’s afraid of what's to come. But you call for him again.

"Rindou-kun, please look at me."

The boy wipes his sweaty palms on the dark denim of his Levi’s 501 and chews on his lip. He's so nervous he's certain his mother would be making fun of him when she finds out. Unlike his brother, he’s never been good with girls and has never gone to this extent at courting one. Hell, he’s not even sure if he’s been this nervous before. He’s done loads of illegal things, almost landed his ass in juvie multiple times, fought countless of gangs (both big and small), and none of them could compare to what you’re making him feel right now.

You've got a very, very wide smile ready for him when he finally looks up.

“Ask me again, Rindou."

Get yourself together, prick. Be fair to her.

“Do you wanna be my girlfriend?”

"Okay."

Rindou thought he’d ascended into heaven.

Today, the same young boy who is now 31 in age and an expecting father, grins at the memory. He's glad he took Ran's advice the other day. As stupid as his older brother can be sometimes, Rindou cannot deny that Ran is always helpful when he needs to be. Always there for him. Otherwise, he wouldn't be having your worn out figure sleeping beside him in your shared bed, the beautiful band on your ring finger shining brightly at him as the moonlight shines in through the curtains he’s forgotten to shut before bed.

He stares at you as you sleep peacefully; the steady rise and fall of your chest indicating that you're feeling comfortable again. It's been difficult for you to fall asleep these days, the kicking getting harder and more frequent.

"She's so impatient to come out." You pout sleepily at the father of your child as you place a hand on your bump and rubbing slow circles, trying to get her to calm down in your belly. "Just another month left, my baby."

He eyes your stomach and leans down to press a soft kiss to the skin, suddenly feeling a kick to his lips and he airily chuckles. It’s almost like the baby in your stomach recognises him . . .

Her father.

"Don't kick your mom so much, girl. Be nice to her." Rindou tells his kid in his heart.

Another kick.

Brat.

You start stirring in your sleep. Shit. You're waking up after finally falling asleep and it's all because of the father and daughter that's ganging up on you. Talking together behind your back. Destroying your sleep.

Absolutely foul.

There's a frown on your face as you move around beneath the blanket, trying to get comfortable again when your husband runs his calloused thumb over the crease between your eyebrows, gently coaxing you back to dreamland.

It's then Rindou hears it another time.

"Stop doubting everything and believe it'll go well instead. Determination pays off, you know."

He reminds himself to give Ran a call when he wakes up.

Rindou has survived the 10 o'clock. It is now 12pm in the afternoon and he's standing in the middle of a fairly new and empty office room with a woman in her early fifties who he recognises as the Operations Manager, Hasegawa Keiko. Everyone calls her Hasegawa-san despite her constant reassurance that simply calling her Keiko is fine.

Rindou directly reports to her now instead of old Kimura. Although being congratulated and trusted deeply by the company, he still feels a bit strange, standing in an office room two floors above his previous one that now has a floor to ceiling view of Tokyo city. He's also been introduced to many new faces that he'll be working with from now on. No more shitty Ito flirting with Ishikawa-san in public and harassing him on going out for drinks or the really irritating habit of the woman clacking her nails on the desk opposite of him, but he supposes he'll adapt sooner or later. He will; Ran told him that he'll be just fine earlier on the phone. He believes in his brother (and you) more than anyone in the world.

"This will be your new office from now on. Feel free to take some time and explore around, make yourself feel comfortable with the environment and so on. And as always, you can ask me if you're unsure about anything. I'll be in my office most of the time down the hall if you have any further questions." The corners of Hasegawa-san's eyes crinkles and Rindou instantly feels more at ease at her warm welcoming. She reminds him a bit of his late mother.

"I'll leave you to it now. Looking forward to working with you, Haitani-san." And with that, she shuts the door behind her, leaving him alone inside.

The silence is overwhelming.

Rindou immediately fishes out his phone in the pocket, dials in the familiar digits he's long memorised and presses the gadget to his ear.

You pick up after the third ring.

"Baby? How'd it go? Are you okay?" He smiles giddily as he pictures the worried expression on your face and you’re probably sitting on the couch watching TV.

(Everything he’d pictured is exactly what you’re doing, by the way. You've also just finished two bowls of plain white rice fresh from the pot without yourself knowing due to how anxious you felt on behalf of him.)

Your husband simply brushes you off. "Whatcha doin'? Are you eating?”

"Answer my question, Haitani!" He laughs at your tone, "take a guess, babe."

"Well, I’on fuckin' know! That's why I'm asking you.”

He thinks of how to put his words into a statement without sounding too overly happy.

"I've got it, you know.”

You have big, red question marks hanging on top of your head as you wait for him to continue on the other line.

"The promotion . . . I've got it."

Rindou spends his lunch break on the terrace talking to you on the phone. He’s eating the bento you prepared this morning before he left for work. "Finish it, 'kay? The broccoli is expensive." You nagged, knowing how much he despises the said vegetable, but it's included in the new diet he's been keen on trying so he's fine with it. He has you to keep him on track, after all.

He picks up the miserable vegetable with his chopsticks and pushes it into his mouth. Jesus- He closes his eyes as he forces it down the throat.

"Fuck, this is so painful." He coughs when he finally swallows it. You hum from the other line, "what is?"

"The broccoli. Fuckin' hell."

"Sucks to be you. Broccoli's so delicious I don't understand why anyone even hates it. You're weird. Rin."

"Says the person who doesn't eat egg whites."

"Egg whites' got no taste. It should be inedible. It's disgusting."

"And I'm the weird one."

Rindou's been so immersed in talking to you that he doesn't hear the door to the terrace opening and closing. He thought it was just him there, considering everyone else has already went out for lunch and some still remained in their respective offices finishing up paperwork.

He doesn't hear the click of a lighter and cigarette paper burning behind him as he continues to bicker with you on the speaker about why egg whites are delicious and broccolis are not.

"Anyway, I've had 'nuff. I'll be confiscating your watch-Gilmore Girls-with-me rights tonight if you don't finish your broccoli. Your daughter agrees wit' me."

"You know damn well I never miss an episode.”

"Sure, we'll see. I've got clothes to fold now, mostly yours. Bye, weirdo."

"Have I told'cha how noisy you are, mama?" He complains and you laugh and hang up after Rindou reminding you for the third time to take your daily vitamins and wear your grippy socks. That's when the eavesdropper decides to make their presence known.

Rindou nearly chokes on his food when he hears a deep voice speaking behind him. "Your wife?"

He turns around with a mouthful of rice as he takes in the situation. Oh, it's him.

The man who he recognises as Sakoda-san is sitting on a chair with his hands tucked into his pockets, a burning cigarette hanging from his lips.

The same guy who frequents a whorehouse all the way in Kabukichō. Yeah, that one. The one who keeps a polaroid of his children in his wallet on the bedside table while he fucks other women in their rooms, telling them he loves them when he doesn't even mean it.

Saying things for the sake of saying it; Rindou doesn't like that.

He decides to keep his distance as he swiftly finishes the food in his mouth. Of course, he didn't forget his manners.

"Yeah, my wife."

Sakoda-san observes Rindou from the corner of his eyes. How the young man is feeding himself spoon after spoon of the bento, especially the broccoli while he scrolls through his phone, catching up on the latest news and watching random videos that appear on his feed.

"How far along is she?"

Rindou doesn't feel like replying. He's always been a private man who keeps matters to himself, but he thinks it's not fair to the baby in your stomach, his daughter, who he feels her existence should be made known. She's not a secret and shouldn't be kept as one.

"Roughly 8 months. She's due in September."

"A girl?" "Yeah." "What's her name?" "Sakiya." "Sakiya for cherry blossom?" "Yeah." "Your wife picked it?" "We picked it."

Okay, he decides this is as far as he'll go. He starts clipping on the lid of the bento and wiping his mouth with a napkin, ready to leave the terrace (of course he doesn't make it obvious) but Sakoda-san speaks again.

"That's nice. I have a girl too. She's 11 this year. And also a boy who's turning 6." Rindou simply nods and wraps up the bento in the fancy cloth you bought at a bazaar in Harajuku. "Would you like to see a photo of them?"

He stops moving. Rindou thinks of all the options, and the one he feels like picking the most is saying no and leaving.

But he shouldn't be cruel. As much as the man he's talking to is a bad person, a bad father, a bad husband, the children have done nothing wrong. He shouldn't be cruel. It's just an innocent picture of two young children.

"Sure." He agrees out of courtesy and Sakoda-san instantly slips out the polaroid from his wallet and hands it to him. Rindou takes and looks at it carefully. They don't look too happy in it.

"I always keep this with me. Gives me a little push in life, you know?"

A little push? To do all those things to his family?

Rindou is instantly reminded of the many ultrasounds of his daughter attached on the fridge with cute bunny magnets that he glances at every day when grabbing milk from the fridge before leaving for work. He figures that a little push in life contains different meanings to both him and Sakoda-san. It makes him feel sick to the core.

"Nice photo." He hands it back to the man after he finishes looking and stands. Rindou grabs the bento by the handle and is ready to leave, when Sakoda-san stops him once again.

"How good of a drinker are you?"

"I don't drink." Liar. He was fucking Haitani Rindou of Roppongi, for fuck's sake.

"Smoke?"

"I quit."

"Why?"

"Wife's pregnant."

The older man laughs at his blunt responses.

"Your life must be pretty boring, huh?"

Rindou doesn't look back at him when he mutters these words.

"At least I am not you."

It is now past lunch break and back to working hours that Rindou finds himself standing outside of Hasegawa-san's office. He has been for the past few minutes now, actually. Thinking about what to say and what to do; if she’ll approve of him or get pissed off.

He doesn't have the courage to go in.

Rindou had contemplated on keeping the topic away from his boss for now and simply bring it up another time, but he knows that it's not possible; it's only a short time away to when you're due and it’s also not fair to you either.

Finally, after making up his mind, he musters up all the courage in him to knock on the door. He waits for the faint come in and twists the knob.

"I was wondering when you'd come in."

Shit, it was that obvious?

Hasegawa-san closes the file she was working on and leans back in her chair while gesturing to the one in front of her desk. "Have a seat, Haitani-san." He immediately follows with a creak echoing in the room, not wanting to waste more time than he already has.

"You're nervous." It's not a question, it's a statement. And Rindou knows it as he feels himself growing hot and he coughs and sits up straight. "Sorry."

"What is it you're here for?" Hasegawa-san breaks the silence first. Rindou looks down at the half crumpled envelope in his hand, thinking a little before laying it flat on her table and pushing it forward with the letters on it facing her.

She stares at the envelope before swiftly opening it up to read. Rindou watches intently as her eyes go over the letter word by word, before finally folding the paper back to it's original form and laying it down on her desk.

You don't know about this, Rindou reminds himself as he waits patiently for Hasegawa-san to process his letter. You don't know about this, so he has to be serious. He has to be straightforward and sure. He can't be leaving you alone at this time because he doesn't have the balls to request for something that will mean the world to you.

The woman leans on her elbows and looks at him with an unreadable expression. He can't tell what’s going through her mind right now. Is it good or bad? Oh, she's squinting her eyes now. Do I need to say something? Fuck, this is so confusing.

"So, according to your letter, you will be away for . . . 2 months? That's a pretty long time. And it's your first day in this department."

The atmosphere is intense.

Thinking that he needs to speak up, Rindou pulls himself together and starts explaining to his boss.

"I know it may seem unacceptable, considering that I am just only in charge of this position. I am also aware that there will be no one to take over my duties when I'm away due to a short of hands, but my family is important and-"

"-tell me, Rindou." She cuts him off with a stern look. "How much does your wife matter to you?"

He doesn't hesitate in answering. It's immediate. Quick. Determined. Sure.

"Everything."

The tension in Hasegawa-san’s face loosens and she smiles. "Then there's no reason to further explain yourself. It’s all written clearly in your letter and letting you go to be with her is what a decent human being should do.” She pauses, “I wish my husband did that for me as well. I'm a woman too, so I know how it must feel to want her husband with her at this period of time.”

To say Rindou is shocked is an understatement. A higher up that doesn't ask questions? Doesn't make you wonder if your decision was right or wrong? Doesn't shame you for having different priorities?

No. It's not because she's being soft. It’s not because she’s biased. It's not because she doesn't care.

It's because she understands.

"I wish for her a safe delivery. Is it a boy or a girl?"

"A girl."

"How nice. I have three sons myself, I wish I had a girl too, to accompany me and so on. Boys grow up a lot faster than girls do." She laughs.

Rindou places both his hands on his knees as he lets out a breath of relief. Other than the meeting earlier today, letting his boss know that he will need to take some time off is also what's been clouding his mind for the entire week.

Your due date has clashed with the moment his work became much more serious and now he has to pick between the two: to stay with work and continue to fulfil his new duties and responsibilities while pouring his heart and soul into his shitty company or to stay at home and take care of you when everyone else is busy taking care of the baby.

And the answer is clear, actually. He'll never let anything, especially work, get between him and his family, and he's never let himself be placed in a position where he feels obliged to choose between the two. If he is, then you and the baby will always come first, no matter what, and he'll quit his job if he has to.

Letting Hasegawa-san know about this is just for him to find out if he has to quit his job to stay with you or not.

And luckily, he doesn't have to. Because Hasegawa-san is an angel in disguise and he feels so terribly relieved. God, he misses you so much. He really wants to go home and kiss you right now.

"You can go now. I'll sort things out with HR. You should take the rest of the day off, too. Go celebrate with your wife and spend some time with her. And please don't worry about work, I'll have a substitute soon for your position."

"Thank you, Hasegawa-san."

"You're welcome, and Keiko is fine. You remind me a lot of my second boy, by the way."

And you remind me of my mother.

"I'll see you soon, son. Take good care of your wife, yeah?"

"I will, Keiko-san."

You are in the midst of hanging up his clothes in the closet when Rindou arrives home.

"ただいま."

"Huh? Why are you home at this hour?"

He kisses your forehead and takes the hanger from your hand. He tells you to sit down and you listen and . . . Great. He's taken charge of hanging his own clothes now.

Rindou is always doing the chores whenever he can now that you're too pregnant to move around even when you insist to him that you can do it. "I like to move around, Rin. 'Don't like to sit around 'n daydream all day, it's boring."

"Boss' let me off early." He states nonchalantly and you raise a brow. You see your husband organising his clothes by colour and you suddenly feel some kind of warmth blossoming in your chest. Much to you and his brother's demise, Rindou used to be the kind of person who doesn't hang his clothes and just throws it in his closet when he's done with the laundry but that changed drastically when he met you. You always nagged at him to hang them up and sort it out by colour, by shirt category, so it'll look more organised and neat when he opens the closet.

"Why?" "I'll tell you later." "Why can't you tell me now?" "It's a surprise." "Huh?"

You're so confused.

Rindou is facing you now. "Have you showered?" You shake your head and remove the claw clip from your hair, scratching at your scalp. "Not yet. I needa' wash my hair, though. It's kinda itchy."

"I'll wash for you." He leads you to the bathroom slowly and helps you into the shower when you both are stripped off your clothes.

You're standing on the non-slip mat and adjusting the water temperature when Rindou joins you in the shower. "I'll take you out tonight. What'chu feel like eating?" He rinses through your body and you hum softly as he starts lathering shampoo on your hair. "Dunno, but I don't feel like eating something spicy, though."

"You want western?" You let out a sigh when he scratches at the itchy spot just above your ear, "sure."

The both of you don't speak after that, choosing to relish in the comfort of the warm water running down your bodies but you're suddenly reminded of it. Cheers to him for managing to butter you up successfully.

"Are you gonna tell me why you're home early?"

"'Told'cha, boss' let me off early." "Yeah, but why?" "I'll tell you over dinner." "You're pissing me off, Rin. Tell me now."

Okay, you're getting mad.

He's grown used to your mood swings over the course of this pregnancy and after so long, he's figured that the best way to deal with it is just by simply accepting it. It'll go away eventually and he should be patient with you and your emotions. After all, it's harder on you.

But he can't deny that it's a bit funny, though. You're getting mad at him because he won't tell you the actual reason he's home early while he's busy washing your hair yet you're purring whenever he scratches at a certain spot on your scalp.

"I got some time off. You know, when you give birth then I'll get to be home 'n take care of you 'n 'Kiya."

"Oh, so you're a romantic."

"Of course."

You feel so happy after listening to him that you turn around (slowly) and pull him down for a quick smooch. "Here's one from 'Kiya." And you kiss him harder this time, "'n one from me."

Rindou is dumbfounded when he looks at you who has literal hearts in your eyes as you hold his face in your hands like he's fragile porcelain, like he's some fine china. You run your thumbs over his cheekbones and pinch his cheeks.

(Doing that made you remember the times you liked to pinch his chubbier ones when you were still teenagers.)

"'Love you."

You with soapsuds in your hair proclaiming your love to your husband for the nth time over the course of 15 years (before and after marriage) and him with his fingers tangled in your hair as he continues scrubbing.

He smirks handsomely, "you tryna skimp out on the kisses, mama? I know my daughter ain't so stingy with 'em," he removes his hands to touch on your bump, "gimme one more, baby."

A kick.

"She jus' said no."

"She said yes, you brat."

You hold him by the neck and softly inhale the scent of his musky body wash that you've grown to find comfort in. He's so endearing that you don't want to let go.

You never want to let go of him.

Rindou lands two strong and assuring hands on your waist and keeps you close to his body.

"Quit sniffin' me, I still need to wash your hair."

You suck on his neck and he squeezes your ass in return. It's nothing sexual or anything, you just like sucking on his neck randomly and Rindou never passes up the chance to grip on your fat.

Some of the foam from your hair has gotten to his face and he simply washes it off with water, though you still don't let go of him.

"Never change your body wash, babe."

"I know . . . You tell me that every day."

Rindou is helping you pick out your outfit as you sit by the dresser doing your makeup. He's holding two dresses in his hands,

"Do you wanna wear this?”

Option A: a long red floral one that he bought for you while away at a business trip in Kyoto. He saw it while passing by and immediately stopped the car to cop it from the old lady. It wasn't for a special occasion or anything, he'd just seen it and felt like buying it for you and you haven’t got the chance to wear it until today.

"Or this?"

Option B: a shorter navy blue sundress that is obviously a little too tight and small for you right now.

“Baby, please. You know I can’t fit in that.” “I know. ‘Was just foolin’ wit’ ya.” “I’ll bite you.” “Go 'head.”

He lays the red dress down flat on your bed and plops down beside it, waiting for you to get ready. “I’m still halfway done wit’ the nursery. I’ll have more time to work on it now that I’m home.” Rindou says and you finish clipping on your right earring. “It’s just the crib and rocking chair left now, right?” You’re referring to the unfinished pieces of furniture that’s sitting in the nursery room next door and he hums as a response.

"Are we finished buying Sakiya's stuff? We can get the remaining later when we’re out. Settle it sooner, you know?"

“No, we’re finished. Ran ‘n Miwa have already bought tons for us.” You think of your sister-in-law who seems more excited for Sakiya's arrival than you, constantly buying you gifts like clothes and toys for the baby whenever she and Ran comes over for dinner together. “Auntie Miwa and Uncle Ran are so excited to see you, girl.” Miwa squeals as she touches your baby bump, feeling a soft kick to her palm.

“Ran is helping us save money now?” You laugh at his joke, “he seems enthusiastic to do so.”

In another city all the way in Ikebukuro is Ran in his home office sneezing with Miwa standing behind him massaging his back. “You’ve got a cold too? Everyone around me is getting a cold and it isn’t even flu season. I’ll have to stay away from you now, Ran. I don’t like getting sick.” She blabbers along and Ran simply hushes her down with a hand to her mouth. Miwa licks it and he retracts his hand away with a scowl, “you’re nasty, love. And you talk too much.” Miwa places a hand on her hip as she looks down at her husband like a mother scolding her son, “I’m not the one sneezing and at a risk of falling sick.” “It’s just Rindou talkin’ ‘bout me, wifey. I know it, I can feel it.”

Back home in Ueno is Rindou sneezing again. “Stupid Ran, he talkin’ ‘bout me too? Asshole.” “Huh?”

Neither Ran nor Rindou stops sneezing for the next five minutes and you and Miwa are left confused, wondering about just how strong these two brothers’ telepathy senses are.

You are actively ignoring your husband’s mumbling and cursing about stupid Ran this, stupid Ran that while combing your hair and Miwa isn’t even in the room with Ran anymore.

“Stop sneezing, Rin.” “Then tell Ran to stop talkin’ ‘bout me.” “Shaddap, you’re just makin’ things up.” “‘M not.”

While blowing his nose on a tissue you handed him, Rindou hears you humming along to a song playing on the radio and he instantly feels at peace.

He's home, you're sitting pretty on the stool, you'll be enjoying Western food together at a fancy restaurant downtown later tonight, and Sakiya will be here anytime soon.

Everything is calm and fine,

and Rindou thinks he will never be giving up this serenity for the world. He'll burn it up if he has to; if it guarantees his family forever peace and happiness.

There can only be his family.

His love. His heart.

reblogs are appreciated & i hope you guys enjoyed this! ૮ ˶´ ᵕˋ ˶ა

ending is a bit rushed cus idk anymore he's successfully rotted my brain and i have fallen onto my knees for this man

#r1988 #home collection #rindou x reader #rindou haitani x reader #haitani rindou x reader #haitani rindou #rindou haitani #tokyo revengers x reader #tokrev x reader #tr x reader #tokyo revengers #ran x reader

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kunikame · 6 months

Text

like planets in orbit. - k. youichi

warnings : fem!reader, cussing, more astral references guys i cant stop., violence mention, lmk if i forgot anything, tooth rotting fluff, miyuki and ryou are presidents of kuramochi bully club (eijun is a honorary member), if the fandom is dead i will cry

w/c : 3.6k

kuramochi youichi has witnessed the ever changing inconsistencies life brings with it.

he's seen many people cry over jobs lost, family members gone, or friends who have left; he likes to think he's pretty observant and can tell when something is wrong with people, or get a clear read on their feelings before they know them themselves.

that skill, however, does not apply to himself. when it comes to his own emotions, he is, for lack of a better word, clueless. this, he comes to realize in his 2nd year of high school, after the devastating loss in the finals.

life brings with it many inconsistencies, junior high youichi notes.

most of the friends he had in his younger days he doesn't talk to anymore, some of his grades aren't as good as they used to be, and he himself has also changed over the years.

the one constant in his life– other than his family, however, were you (and his atrocious (your words, not his) yellow hair).

the young girl he met at the playground at the age of 4, when he accidentally ruined your sandcastle with a stray ball.

you didn't cry or scream, like any child would, instead you accepted his apology and got to work on rebuilding it all the while smiling softly. he couldn't deny he felt bad (it looked like it took a while to build, the castle was more of a palace with a town to accompany it), so he stuck around to help you instead.

that started the lifelong friendship between kuramochi youichi and [name].

you accompanied each other to 80% of the places you went, people started thinking of you as the "constantly bought in pair, do not separate" type of oddity around town. if youichi was in one place, there was a high possibility you were somewhere near, and likewise.

dating rumors started spreading at some point, but they were quickly shut down by both of you.

and yet.

when youichi started going around doing his 'punk stuff' and getting into fights, you were there to patch him up. who else would he go to? even though you tried stopping him, very nearly bashing his skull in with your words (stars forbid there be any weapons nearby lest you actually do it), he continued ignoring your efforts. if you were as worried as you said, you'd cry for him, wouldn't you? shed a tear or two? but you never did.

then he got scouted for seidou and you joined shortly after him, through the entrance exams. it's not that you were simply following him– seidou was actually one of your choices even before youichi got scouted, it was a lucky coincidence that you ended up together even in high school; but it was comforting knowing even in a different place with new faces and surroundings, there was still something that resembled home.

he joined the baseball team, and here, you admit, you followed after him– as a manager.

it wasn’t too hard to adjust to the managerial duties or the daily practice sessions, you’ve been helping youichi practice since the day you met him, and the way of the scorebooks was properly explained to you by your fellow managers– thank the universe for them, seriously. the only thing you were having slight trouble with was the fact youichi didn’t seem to be doing too well at the start.

with what was left of his previously-bad-reputation in his system, you were afraid he would pick fights he couldn’t possibly win. all of the 2nd years are so tall and strong– with the exception of kominato– and youichi was.. well, for lack of a better word, a twig. yeah, he picked fights in junior high, and he actually won most of them, but junior high kids are still just that. these are middle schoolers who’ve been on an extremely strict baseball training regimen, which youichi has just started. with his aching muscles and exhaustion, he really would get his ass beat.

so you continued watching over him, from the sidelines this time.

(and, yes, watching over him entailed taking care of him also. it was like second nature– to listen to him complain about minor setbacks, to study up on massage techniques so he can get some relief from his aching muscles because he's youichi and you’re you, to patch up his wounds. all of it was like second nature. you cared for him and in turn, he cared for you.)

wherever youichi went, so did you. wherever you went, so did youichi.

those were facts– laws known by almost everyone the pair of you acquainted yourselves with, mostly the baseball club and your families, but those 2 are almost the same thing, if you were being honest.

the facts you were well aware were true continued to be proven time and time again, even more so when neither of you went to nationals.

which you think would be obvious with how you were the team's manager, so if the team didn’t go, neither did you– not as anyone important, anyway.

at the first lost chance, you didn’t cry. you didn’t just shrug and move on either, you simply took a deep breath and with the words, “maybe next year” you smiled at your seniors and friends and left the stands.

that night you headed out to the seidou baseball grounds alone.

in the lone serenity under the stars, you sat on the mound and cried.

not for the loss that could’ve been a win, not for losing the chance to go to nationals and experience the thrill, but for the 3rd years who lost their final chance.

but wherever you go, youichi goes– and on that cloudless night where he first saw you cry, he promised you he would take you to nationals.

you, in turn, promised to tell him a secret when he does.

he thinks if you smile at him like that again, he might just do anything you ever ask him to.

it is in his (and your) second year of high school when kuramochi youichi has a realization, one he can’t simply shrug off.

mundane things concerning you and him that used to be normal and done without a second thought now had his hands shaking ever so slightly, his heart rate spiking, and his cheeks feeling just a tad warmer.

which would all be okay and simply shrugged off, had it not been for sawamura and miyuki, the bastard duo (and ryousuke, purely because he enjoys bullying youchi).

“so, have you finally admitted your crush to yourself? or are you, perhaps, still in denial?”

for how much miyuki claims to hate having people in his business, he himself sure loves to poke into others. youichi feels his eye twitch.

“what–”

“what crush are you talking about, miyuki kazuya?!”

great. now the other one’s here too. and you seem to have noticed the commotion, since you’re turning his way (he wouldn’t have noticed, had he not been staring at you this entire time) with an eyebrow raised in question. youichi does an exaggerated eye roll while tilting his head towards both annoyances at his sides, and with a giggle you turn back to furuya.

“why, didn’t you know? our dear kuramochi has a–”

“aaand that’s where i’ll cut ya off,” youichi said, slapping his hand on the brunet's mouth, “i don’t have a crush on anyone.”

“but, kuramochi-senpai, you’ve been staring at [name]-senpai for the past 5 minutes. i’m pretty sure you didn’t even blink!”

now his other eye is twitching. he thinks he can actually feel the vein in his forehead bulging the more sawamoron continues speaking.

“i was not!”

“were too, we all saw,” his pink haired senior said, appearing seemingly out of nowhere, his intentions written all over his face clear as day.

“i wa– okay, since you’re not gonna listen to me anyway, i’ll just prove there’s nothing between us. on either side. never was, never will be,” said youichi, getting up from his spot on the bench, which had sawamura falling over as he was leaning all his body weight on the green haired shortstop.

he makes his way over to you with an easy goal in mind: have a calm and collected conversation, without triggering his (seemingly) symptoms of illness so he doesn’t worry you, turn around and leave.

question is, what is he gonna talk to you about? conversations with you usually flow naturally, but for the first time ever, youichi finds himself nervous at the prospect of talking to you. his frustrated fast paced steps gradually slow down the closer he gets to you, contrary to his thoughts which are speeding up– he finds himself unable to keep up with his thought process for the first time ever in your presence.

and he doesn’t know why.

for the first time since he befriended you, he realizes the mere thought of you renders him unable to think properly.

sensing his presence you turn his way and his thoughts come to an abrupt stop. all he hears is white noise– like his brain got unplugged and it’s showing one of those black and white static screens– until you utter his name.

“youichi! i was just about to go over there to check what the commotion was about. I’m pretty sure i heard eijun ask about a crush or something. does he like someone?”

why do you want to know whether the first year moron has a crush or not? “him? nah. i don’t think he has the brain capacity to pull someone,” he says offhandedly, a little late to realize you took a liking to his roommate.

“youichi!” you repeat, though angrier than when you greeted him, “don’t say that! he’s just a guy. i think he could be a good boyfriend to someone. he’s nice.”

he finds his frustration growing at that, and still, he doesn’t know why. then you seem to notice something behind him because suddenly you’re grinning and waving. when he turns his head he finds it’s the previously mentioned first year and tanuki bastard and his blood boils– he tries, really, he does, to not let his thoughts bleed through his expression, but with the way miyukis smirk widens a tad, he believes he might have fucked up.

“anyway, what did you need?”

“huh– oh, i was just wondering if you needed help with anything, since you were just standing around here,” he internally apologizes for lying through his teeth, but he can’t have you finding out the real reason.

“mm, not really. jun-san did most of the heavy lifting we needed done already, so unless you wanna stay late to help us collect the balls, nothing much.”

“ah, alright. i’ll stay to help, then. i’d hate it if our poor managers did all the hard work.”

“now you’re just making fun of me.”

“me? why, i would never, who do you take me for? miyuki?”

“you’re even worse than kazuya.”

this is okay, youichi thinks. this is how it’s been for the past 13 years, this is how it should be. friendly banter. you bully him, he bullies you, you take care of him, he takes care of you. that’s how it’s always been.

he chooses to ignore the slight shake in his hands and the sudden warmth on his cheeks.

the next day you’re not in class and his only conversation partner (read: professional bother) is miyuki kazuya. which isn’t necessarily unusual, but usually it’d be the three of you engaged in conversations initiated by you, and now that he’s alone youichi misses you more than ever before.

“are you gonna answer my question or not? are you, perhaps, too shy~”

“if you don’t shut your damn mouth soon i will literally take this pen and stab you with it.”

“how scary~” the tanuki bastard let out his very tanuki like giggle and youichi nearly snapped his pen in half, “come on, you can tell me! i’m your best friend after all!”

“the absolute audacity you have to call yourself that. you know very well my best friends are ryou-san and [name],” though, he can’t particularly deny he has began considering miyuki a close friend as well.

“i believe i’m still a better person to talk about this than either of them. unless you’d prefer to discuss it with sawamura?”

the shortstop lets out a deep, heartfelt sigh of pure annoyance, and miyuki celebrates his victory. only in the depths of his twisted little soul, of course, but celebrates nonetheless.

kuramochi turns in his chair to stare at his friends desk, and with a frown so deep it genuinely concerns miyuki, finally speaks what’s on his heart, “.. i’ve been wondering about this for a while, but what makes you guys think i like [name]? i personally don’t think we’ve done anything to make it seem that way, we’ve always been like this, so–”

“you haven’t,” kuramochi looks up then, only to see the brunet more serious than he’s ever seen him be outside of baseball, “you haven’t always been like that, don’t lie to yourself. had you said that to me last year i wouldn’t have questioned you– granted, i hadn’t known either of you for long back then, but this year you both started acting differently towards each other. it’s not much noticeable to people who don’t know you, but since i spend nearly every waking moment around you guys, it’s about as clear as sawamura wanting the ace number.”

“different?”

“you.. really haven’t noticed? kuramochi, you can’t be serious.”

he slowly shakes his head in denial, thoroughly confused on not knowing what it is he should have noticed. he thought he was supposed to be observant, what happened to that?

miyuki, with his mouth hanging open in disbelief for mere seconds, decided he was nice enough to lead his one (and only) friend in the right direction, at least. if even that fails he might just have to straight up out kuramochi to kuramochi himself.

“you became more.. nervous? flustered, should i say? around her this year. you get fidgety and your hands shake after physical contact sometimes– yes, i noticed, stop staring at me like that. sometimes– actually, pretty often you just stare at her with hearts in your eyes.”

“i do not–”

“oh you do. you stare at her like she hung the stars in the night sky, like she’s what makes the sun shine. you look at her like a man in love would.”

that was kuramochi youichis final straw, he thinks.

a week after kuramochis one-on-one eye-opening talk with his friend, he starts to notice that maybe, perhaps, theoretically, the tanuki bastard might have been right.

the keywords being the verbs expressing his uncertainty.

each passing minute he spends with you, however, he finds himself running out of verbs.

he’s caught himself staring at you very often these past few days. which would be good and all, were you not quite literally staring at him also.

these new occurrences end with both of you looking away with cheeks that are just slightly more tinted than they are naturally, and (usually) miyuki rubbing his forehead in annoyance.

if his newfound realization gets in the way of his practice, coach kataoka will have him sit out the fall tournament for sure. he can’t have that happening, so he shrugs off whatever awkwardness this caused between you to focus on getting to nationals.

he did promise you he would take you there, after all.

with that thought in his mind, he feels his lips curl into a smile, and his fielding starts to look less half-assed than before.

okay, so maybe the tanuki bastard was right, youichi thinks, so what.

it’s normal to have an eeny weeny crush on someone you know better than you know yourself at some point in your life, is it not?

which would be all shits and giggles, were it an ‘eeny weeny’ crush, rather than a ‘oh my god she’s in the same room with me how do i breathe why is she so beautiful oh my god call an ambulance oh my god?’ crush.

he slams his head against his desk, lamenting whatever it is he’s done that got him here. why can’t he just see you the way he’s seen you before?

wait. how exactly did he see you before?

sure, you were always beautiful and nice, helpful to a fault, generous and extremely smart, but have you always sparkled like you do now?

yes. yes you have.

to kuramochi youichi you’ve always sparkled and shone brighter than the lights in rooms you occupied, brighter than the full moon in the night skies and the sun during daytime.

you entered the classroom and upon hearing you greet him his head snaps up and– is that a fucking halo?! (it is a figment of his imagination fueled by the many shojo mangas jun made him read) why are you glowing?

miyuki can only sit back and observe from his seat behind kuramochi as the shortstop looks at his life-long friend as if she herself hung the stars, brightened the days and nights– as if she put the planets in orbit.

and if the planets in the question were kuramochi youichi and [name] was the sun, then perhaps you have. youichi somehow finds himself sucked into your atmosphere, somehow always orbiting you, always in your presence or not far from it. you are always in his thoughts and in his heart, a part of you is always in his conscience and he can do nothing but accept it, embrace it. he is kuramochi, but he is not youichi without you. similarly you are [l/name], but never [f/name] without him. if only he would’ve known sooner that neptune’s slow departure from the solar system symbolized his common sense leaving when he’s around you.

in your second year of high school, with a lot of hard work, you make it to nationals.

during the victory announcement, youichi could’ve sworn he saw a tear stream down your cheek, but it could have just been a trick of the light.

that night you once again meet under the tranquility of the stars on the diamond, but this time, it’s on a more positive note than last year.

“so, what’s the secret i was promised?”

you freeze for a mere moment, as if you yourself have forgotten you ever made him such a promise, then the shock clears out of your eyes and you turn to look at him.

“can’t we push the due date a bit?”

“wha– no! what was it all for?!” he’s waving his arms around to exaggerate his point, “i’ve waited a year for this, wondering each day what could possibly be so special, and now you tell me to wait more?! man..”

you watch his lips curl into a pout and his brows furrow and you know.

“.. not that i wouldn’t, i’d wait however long it takes, if it’s you..” you know.

you feel your face heat up slightly, even though it’s exactly what you predicted he would say. you reach out and your fingers tap against his cheek first, then you place your palm against the warm skin (it continues to grow warmer under your touch, you note).

“thank you for fulfilling your promise, youichi. i love you.”

he can physically feel his heart skip a beat and his neck very nearly break with the abnormal speed he turns his head at. blood is rushing to his head and all he hears is white noise (or perhaps that’s just the cicadas) and your words on a loop in his already you-filled brain. stars, what have you done to him? he thinks he might short-circuit.

but, then again, this could just be a normal, friendly ‘i love you’, as you usually say. he shouldn’t get his hopes up, nor be weird about it, lest you catch on and start distancing yourself from him (not that you would do that, since you didn’t after he threw lizards at you when you were 7).

“you’re welcome,” he smiles, “love ya too, stupid.”

you shake your head and he pauses, “no, youichi. i love you. always have. that’s the secret.”

“.. i’ve always loved you, too..? what do you mean,” he shakes his head to mimic you, then raises an eyebrow in question, as if not agreeing he loves you was a crime (at this point, it might even be).

“i’m in love with you, idiot,” you resist the urge to just smack him at this point, “have been for the past 10 years.”

he’s struck by lightning. hit by a truck. squashed by a rock, even. he can’t even properly describe the bolt he feels striking him upon realizing he is, in fact, an idiot. and so are you, apparently.

idiots in love, as ryousuke once said. now he knows why.

the shortstop grabs you by your shoulders and shakes you back and forth with an almost crazed look in his eyes, “oh my god. i’m in love with you, too! oh my god!”

there’s a sudden sparkle in your eyes and you grab onto his arms, “oh my god! i thought i was going insane whenever i saw you acting like a schoolgirl with a crush!”

he momentarily wonders how much money miyuki will rack up for the bets placed on who will confess first, but that’s an issue for tomorrow.

for now, youichi thinks, the only issue is finding out if your lips are as soft as they look.

(they are.)

ੈ✩₊˚TAGLIST : @gabirii @heroesfan101 @celandinee @wizardclown @solxima // ask/comment to be added/removed! (if you're in bold i can't tag you)

#🖋 「txt」#ace of diamond x reader #ace of diamond x you #ace of diamond x y/n #daiya no ace x reader #daiya no ace x you #daiya no ace x y/n #kuramochi youichi x reader #kuramochi youichi x you #kuramochi youichi x y/n #daiya no ace imagines

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otdiaftg · 8 months

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The Raven King - Chapter Seven

Day: Thursday, October 5th Time: 11:30 PM EST

"I mean literally soft. Too many curves, see? I feel like my hands would slide right off. It's totally not my thing. I like..." He drew a box with his fingers as he searched for words. "Erik. Erik's perfect. He's a total outdoors junkie, rock climbing and hiking and mountain biking, all that awful bug-infested fresh-air stuff. He's stronger than I am, and I like that. I feel like I could lean on him all day and he wouldn't break a sweat." "Funny," Nicky said. "That didn't used to be my type. None of the others I crushed on growing up were anything like that. Maybe that's why none of them could help me." Nicky turned his hands palm-up on the table and considered them. "My parents are kind of crazy, you know? There's religious and there's super psychotic religious. Me and Renee, we're the decent sort, I think. We go to different churches and have some different ideas, but we respect each other anyway. We understand that religion is just an interpretation of faith. But my parents are the black-and-white crazy kind. It's only right and wrong with them: hellfire and damnation and judgment from on high. "For some reason I tried coming out to them anyway," Nicky said. "Mom was pretty upset. She locked herself in the bedroom and cried and prayed for days. Dad took a more direct route and shipped me off to Christian gay camp. I spent a year learning that I was infected by a disgusting idea from the devil, that I was a living test for every other good Christian on the planet. They tried using God to shame me into being straight. "It didn't work," Nicky said. "For a while I wished it did. I went home feeling like an abomination and a failure. I couldn't face my parents like that, so I lied. I pretended to be straight for the rest of high school. I even dated a couple girls. I kissed a couple of them, but I used my faith as an excuse never to get further than first base. I knew I just had to keep it together until graduation. "I hated my life so much," Nicky said. "I couldn't do that, you know? I couldn't live a lie like that day after day. I felt trapped. Some days I thought God abandoned me; sometimes I thought I failed Him. Halfway through my junior year I started thinking about suicide. Then my German teacher took me aside and told me about a study abroad program. She would set it all up for me, she said, if my parents would sign off on it. She'd handle admissions and get a host family and everything. It'd be expensive, but she thought I needed a change in scenery. Guess she knew I was that close to the edge. "I didn't think Mom and Dad would go for it, but they were so proud of me for my so-called recovery they agreed to let me go my senior year. I just had to last another semester and then I could go. I was so desperate to get out of there I didn't even really pay attention when Aaron and Aunt Tilda moved to Columbia that spring. All I cared about was keeping it together until May. I know now I should have tried harder, but I would've been no good to him how I was. "When the plane took off from Columbia, I was scared to death," Nicky said. "I was so relieved to leave my parents and everyone I knew, but I didn't know if being in Germany would change anything. When I landed, my new host brother was waiting for me in Arrivals. Erik Klose," Nicky said, sounding it out like he was saying it for the first time. "He taught me to believe in myself. He showed me how to balance my faith and my sexuality, and he made me okay again. I know it sounds dramatic, but he saved my life." Nicky flipped his hands over and laced his fingers together. The look he turned on Neil was as reassuring as it was worried and made Neil want to edge away. "That's what love is about, see? That's why Exy isn't ever going to be enough, not for you or Andrew or anyone. It can't hold you up, and it won't make you a stronger or better person."

Art used with permission by Kurra. Thank you @kurra !

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verosvault · 9 days

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🚨SPOILERS FOR FANTASY HIGH JUNIOR YEAR EPISODE 8🚨

Dimension20 "Fantasy High Junior Year"

Episode 8 "Fracas at the Frostyfaire Folk Festival"

Timestamp: 39:40

Video Length: 4min. & 23sec.

Research into Cassandra and Ruvina + Learning about Oblivati Mori (Pt.1 | Pt.2 | ‣Pt.3)

Brennan: "But that would mean that if someone was able to write it, they would know it, but they would have to have a way of writing it without breaking Obliviati Mori. There's two pieces of information you guys can glean from that right away, the first of which is that belief and worship and the weird, tenuous alliances between gods where some of them are from the same region but have conflicting domains, and some gods have the same domain as other gods but are still ascendent in different areas or for different kinds of cultures or anything like that, all the gods have this agreement that is basically like, for lack of a better word, we're all playing the game, and if your fucking buddy or your pal or someone you love loses fair and square, you're not allowed to go to your mortal worshipers and say, "Hey, can we peel off a few followers to my buddy who's having a hard time right now?" It's basically like a law of, you are not allowed to root for each other. You are not allowed to pull for each other. You're not allowed to put a thumb on the scale in that way. If your flocks choose to have you work together, you can work together, but when a god dies, that's it. You're not allowed to cheat by reminding mortals that there was this other deity."

Siobhan: "But if we went and asked another deity about this god, would they then be able to tell us? Or would we have to specifically say their name?"

Brennan: "According to Obliviati Mori, they would not be able to tell you. But the law is a law, which immediately to you, Adaine, would tell you, well, any rule has ways of working around it."

Siobhan: "Ok, Great. So it's a law, but laws can be broken."

Brennan: "Yeah. And there might be enormous arcane penalties for so doing, but effectively, you know that there are dead gods. There are rules concerning how the other gods can refer to those dead gods to mortals, if they are even allowed to. And to a certain degree... But again, the second, biggest thing is, of course, this wouldn't be a thing unless gods could always remember dead gods."

Siobhan: "Mhmm."

Zac: "So do we have a sense of, when Lydia and her crew were on this mission, they never knew the name of this god, right? Or did they at one point know it?"

Brennan: "Lydia can confirm for you, she's like,"

Lydia: "We never knew the name of the god. We knew Bakur, the fiend, but-"

Fig: "Even though gods can't say the name, the name could still exist out there in texts."

Lydia: "Exactly, which is why a lot of, you know, if a god is trying to be crushed or scoured, you try to break their idols, erase their texts, burn the holy texts, all that kind of thing. But theoretically, if we had found the name written somewhere on text, that would have done it.

Fabian: "Then it makes sense why Cassandra said that thing about being like, I thought you were dead."

Fig: "I thought you were dead."

*multiple "yeah's" at the table* 😂🤣💀

Fabian: "Mm~."

Riz: "So if you had to get around it, maybe a way to do it would be to possess someone or something. Is it possible that Lucy..."

Fig: "Was possessed?"

Riz: "...was possessed?"

Fig: "All the Rat Grinders are suspiciously qui-. No one's grieving Lucy or anything like that."

Adaine: "Yeah, it's weird, right?"

Fig: "So the Rat Grinders are in on this, in some capacity. And I even think it's possible that, the way that Ivy reacted to me, either she saw through my disguise and so she was being cheeky, or Lucy's around somehow and they've just found another way to proselytize-"

Fabian: "Oh-! Maybe- Yes! 'Cause she did beckon to you, right? To be like-"

Fig: "Yeah, she was like, 'Oh- Okay, we're meeting up.'"

Fabian: "Ooo~ Yes, like a possession thing, where somebody's, the god is Lucy and- and-"

Murph: "What happened to that armor after Gilear had it?"

Emily: "What happened with the armor?"

Brennan: "He'd stolen it from Hell, and he just returned it to you when you guys got back from spring break."

Emily: "Where is it?"

Murph: "So, it just should be in Hell?"

Brennan: "Yeah, the Armor of Pride is back in the Hall of the Armors of Sin."

Murph: "Okay."

Brennan: "So the Armor of Pride is just down in Hell."

Emily: "And all the demons are archfey are fallen deities?"

Brennan: "Unclear. Some great celestials and fiends are created by gods in their status as celestials or fiends. Bakur was created by a god that he could no longer name, right, and so there's certain- But it looks like some divinities, some archfey or some celestials or some things like that, are gods who, their worship is waning and waning and waning or their divinity is waning and waning and waning, and they just make a decision to, rather than face death, become something that relies a little bit less on faith."

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joellkeeny · 2 years

Text

✧*:･ﾟtoxic!steve x fem!reader

warnings: smut. douchebag/cocky steve. a bit of angst.

part 2.

— ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

☁︎ Steve and his fat cock, going around the school and taking each of the girls for a ride in the backseat of his car or any other place he could bring them to, hearing them come back to school the next day with incredible stories of Steve; his abilities, his horse-like cock, and that sweet mouth of his making almost every girl crumble at just the thought.

☁︎ eventually, one day, one of your closer classmates turns up to school after a party with a similar story of how Steve took her in Tina's bathroom against the wall. Which, by her details sounded otherworldly, and frankly, ridiculous to you. No way he could be that good and have all the girls drooling over him while striding through the halls with that insufferable smirk of his and perfect, shiny hair.

☁︎ so you keep yourself tucked away in the little corner in the lunchroom where you and your small group of friends usually sit, until one when The King himself slides into the seat next to yours. You're baffled for a moment, even more so when his honey-like eyes, glazed with mischief and trouble, settle on you, introducing himself ─which of course he didn't need to do─ before he steals a fry from your tray. You should've found the gesture annoying, or too cocky, but Steve Harrington was probably the only one who could pull that off.

☁︎ at the end of history, your only shared class, he writes his number on your wrist, shooting you a wink which under no circumstances should've made you as giddy as it did. You knew he was not looking for anything serious, but you still let yourself fall willingly into his trap nonetheless.

☁︎ when you finally build up the courage to call, he's more than pleased to invite you to the bonfire him and some of the other kids from school are planning on Friday night. And how can you say no when he says there's going to he s'mores? And so, on Friday night, you dress in one of your better dresses, nervously doing your hair in the mirror before hearing Steve honk, signalling he's already in the front of your house, his BMW purring loudly as he waits.

☁︎ 'a few' people, turn into more and more until at least half of the seniors and a few juniors were bunched around the large bonfire by the lake, warming themselves up as the wood cracked away under the heat of the golden fire. Steve didn't hesitate to offer you his jacket wrapping it snugly around your shoudler, flashing you a smile as his hand smoothly slips around your shoulders, pulling you into his side while you cook your marshmallow, Steve already waiting with the biscuits and chocolate in his lap. And just as smoothly, he wipes some melted marshmallow from your lips, sucking his thumb clean, and he know he has you in his trap when you lick your lips where his thumb has previously been, blushing as you look back down at your converse, kicking a small rock.

☁︎ not even half an hour later, he's walking you back to the car, your shivering body pressed tightly against his while you apologize profusely for not putting on something more accommodating for the current weather. "Don't worry, I don't mind. Can't leave a pretty girl to freeze to death, right?" Though you know he's teasing you as he squeezes your shoudler, you can't help but let out a small laugh, your head leaning against him. You're back to his car in no time, letting you climb inside with a brush of his hand down your back, pulling away dangerously close to your ass. It's like he knows every little touch that makes you tic, every word that brings out the warm blush in your cheeks, despite the cold-ish weather.

☁︎ one thing leads to another and you find yourself face to face, almost nose to nose with him as he tries to admire your eyes. Of course he used that cheap line which otherwise wouldn't have worked on you, but as everything tonight, makes you open up to him a little more. "You have beautiful eyes, you know? Mind if I take a closer look? It would be a shame not to." And so, his warm and calloused palm holds your cheek as he gazes into your eyes, noticing the sudden swell of your pupils and hitch in your breath, your eyes growing heavier expectantly. He knows the signs, he's done this a million times before, so he knows this is the moment.

☁︎ his lips finally push to yours, the kiss is far from gentle, his hand slipping at the back of your neck to keep you in place while he bends over the console. His lips are needy, demanding, taking from you what he wants and you just have to stay there and take it, you wouldn't have it any other way. But then he's leaning back, taking you with him, settling you on his lap and the cold which was once running through your body now completely gone. He's biting and tugging on your lip, abusing the soft pillowy flesh and you can't help but whine and cant your hips down, your clothed cunt pressing to the front of his jeans.

☁︎ he chuckles, even tutting in a mocking manner while he gazes at you, your lips kiss swollen and flushed a pretty red color, just as you cheeks. You pant, your hands fisted at the front of his shirt, eyebrows pulled together at the sudden lack of contact."You knew what you were getting yourself into when you called, didn't you?" He knows that, don't even need to ask, yet he hums when you nod frantically, giving a slight tug on his shirt, his jacket now thrown in the backseat. "Trying to act coy and innocent, making me seek you out." He makes you sound like a prize, a trophy, a notch on his belt, because for him, that's what you are. Just another good story which he'll remember over a few years."Think I don't know how jealous you are of your friends?" Then his hand moves lower from where it was previously resting on your waist, to your thigh and then up again under the skirt of your dress. You can't help but whine, pushing your cunt into his hand, the warmth and wetness undoubtedly seeping through the thin material while his fingers feel you up over it.

☁︎ after teasing your puffy cunt, you finally get to take a breath when his hands leave your body to unbuckle his belt expertly. Seeing the opportunity, you lean down and kiss at his neck, hearing the pop of a button and slow ripple of a zipper, followed by a groan. Though the car is pretty spacious, you choose to press yourself close to his body, seeking out every ounce of warmth he has to offer, breathy pants making the windows foggy. And then you're pulling back, breaching your hands on his shoulders as he lifts you up with his hips to shuffle his constricting jeans down his thighs. You swallow, looking down at his lap, and through the dark of the night and the limited light from the full moon you can barely make out the proeminent bulge in his black boxers.

☁︎ he's pulling you in for another kiss while he grasps your wrist and pushes your hand against his cock as if to scold you for how hard you made him. Your mouth runs dry, a gasp leaving your lips as you feel him up, not needing your eyes to assess the situation. "Jesus-" It's all you can get out as you squeeze him, the fucking pillar between his legs only making one thought flow through your head. 'Jesus; the stories are true, and he might just split me open with that thing.' He relaxes for a second as you seek out the waistband of his boxers before he's pulling himself out, the throbbing length slapping almost painfully to his stomach, if you squeezed him tight enough you would be able to feel him pulsing in your hand.

☁︎ "Not getting cold feet on me now, are you?" He chuckles, being awfully cocky, though having every reason to while he shuffles under you, pulling your hips over his length impatiently and moving your underwear to the side, brushing the pad of his thumb over your clit just to feel your hips jut against him with a soft whimper. Shaking your head vigorously at the mention of wanting to dump him, you raise your hips, glancing down where the bulbous tip of his cock is pressed against your entrance and you take a deep breath. He knows what he's dealing with, so he just keeps his hands on your hips, not moving you, just letting you do it at your own pace.

☁︎ and then you're sinking on him, albeit only taking the first few inches before stopping and shuddering, your lip quivering before you tuck it between your teeth, muffling your sounds. And he knows, he can feel that you're fighting the stretch, feeling your cunt constrict around him and even though he loves it, he knows he won't be able to go any further if you don't relax. "C'mon baby, don't fight it, need ya to relax." You hate how soft his tone is, you hate the fact that this is going to be the only time you're going to hear him call you 'baby'. The said nickname melts your heart and makes you go almost slack in his hold, walls releasing some of the tight squeeze and you're able to slide even lower, your nails digging into his shoulders and squeezing while you wait to adjust.

☁︎ but he's so fucking sweet because he knows that's how he'll get you to behave and do as you're told. He's not sweet because he might be caring for you, or because that's his true nature, no, he's sweet to you just to feel his cock slide in deeper, just to make you take another inch in. And so you do, falling into the trap of his sweet words and gentle touches as he tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear with a soft gasp, his thighs end up flush to your ass.

☁︎ you just want to cry from how mind numbingly big he is, stretching you to your limit, the tip of his cock reaching your cervix and pressing against it. "Attagirl, takin' this big fucking cock all the way in. Gonna go to school tomorrow and tell your friends what a good girl you've been, hmm? Having The King's fat cock up this tight pussy all night while he took you in his car, not even four hours after picking you up?" There's too much and not enough you want to say, not that your mouth is able to do anything else than stay there and let him ruin your insides without even moving yet. You sniffle, a pathetic little sound while you collapse to the side, your face pressed up against the window of his car, thighs twitching from the seemingly never-ending burn between them. "St-Steve...s'hurtin' me." You babble, the fullness pulling out a stray tear from your waterline even though you try to trap it in place by squeezing your eyes shut. "I know, baby, I know. Just gotta be strong for me. I'll make it fit." He surely was amazed, though not letting that show in neither his tone or his face, never has he encountered a girl so determined to take him, most would just give up a bit over halfway in, only using that part to get off, but here you are, fully sitting on his lap, his cock pushing so far inside you it makes him feel lightheaded.

☁︎ and when he thought it couldn't get even better, you give the first rock of your hips, hands trembling as they push up into his hair, gripping the strands. Normally, he wouldn't have anyone messing with his hair, but now he couldn't care less while he gazes up at you, taking in the way your features seem to slacken and get loopy just because of his attention, desperate to please, to be good. His hands tighten their grip on the fat of your hips, helping you rise the slightest bit before pushing you down again. You let out the first moan of the night, and he knows he never heard something so raw and beautiful, so he does it again until you slip into a rhythm, movements getting bolder and harsher, as if having him ram into your insides was the only thing you ever needed. Your arms wind around his neck, resting your forehead against his, your thighs burning and straining, already predicting the trouble you'll have walking tomorrow. He takes that as a sign to help you out so he starts fucking up into you faster. Grunts and moans spilling from his lips while his head swims with that dizzying tight fit around him, milking him for all he's worth.

☁︎ you cry out with each slam of his hips, his length so full that is stroking your sweet spot perfectly, head throwing back and he can't be more eager to press his lips at the expanse of skin, sucking some marks on it that say 'Steve Harrington claimed me' from miles away, there's no doubt that you'll be the talk of the school tomorrow, but you can't care less, not when you get more cockdrunk with every nudge of his dick inside of you. He's panting, pushing you back slightly to gain a better angle, and you body immediately tenses, a sharp cry mixed with a squeak falling from your lips, jaw slack, head lolling to the side. Normally, you would be embarrassed to act like that, like he's fucking you so good your mind is empty and you're completely dumb, ruined by him.

☁︎ by the time you feel the coil in your stomach tighten, he's fully driving inside of you, the car rocking with the rapid movements, dirty words and sounds falling from both of you. "Fuck─ tell me, can I fill this pretty cunt up? Can I send you home with my cum dripping down your thighs?" His voice is straining, and you know he's anticipating his release just as much as you are, body shaking uncontrollably in his hold while you cry out loudly, cumming on his cock before you can even think of an answer, squeezing and milking him, eager to feel him follow you into the sea of bliss."Y-yeah, mmm-Steve! Please give it to me!" You beg and he just about dies on the spot when he hears you say so prettily for his cum, his heavy length twitching inside of you wildly before he stills, pushing hips hips up into you with a guttural groan as he cums inside of you, abs twitching and eyes screwing shut with each spurt of cum inside of you.

☁︎ that night, he drops you off, leaving you a cryptic."See you tomorrow." Though that's what he always says, you know it because you've heard it from countless girls around the school, it breaks your heart a little, for a moment expecting to hear something different, somethng more reassuring of a possible next 'date', but you knew when you first picked up that phone and called what you were getting yourself into, so with a nod and final kiss you leave. The next day, is plain and clear to everyone what happened on Friday night at the bonfire as you're almost limping through the halls, hissing and cursing each time you sit down or get up, you cunt almost begging for that stretch and fill again. And when you see him through the halls again he's not even looking at you, talking with his friends as if you were in the past, while he's planning the next girl who's going to fall for his charm and looks.

#stranger things #steve harrington #x reader #stranger things s1 #steve harrington is pretty #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve the hair harrington #steve the king harrington #steve x reader #toxic!steve x reader #joellkeeny #stranger things blurb #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington babygirl

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tammyjackson50-blog · 9 months

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Eddie gets jealous because of your ex-boyfriend

Eddie and you decided to go to your place to hang out after you finished school for the day.

You were in your bedroom, Eddie was on your laptop watching YouTube videos, while you were laying on your bed, watching tiktok videos and doing nothing.

"Babe, can I borrow a t-shirt from you? I accidentally spilled water on myself" He turned the chair so he faced you." Sure, there's one of your Hellfire t-shirts in my closet." He stood up and opened the closet.

-----

You noticed after a while that he is still looking for the shirt. " Eddie, I don't have a lot of shirts with the Hellfire logo on them, what's taking you so long? "

he didn't respond .

You got up and walked to the closet, "Eddie? What are you doing- Hey,hey,hey, don't make a mess here!" He was sitting on the floor, looking through your old stuff from junior high school. " Y/n, you used to do well in math, what happened since then? " He laughed holding one of your old math exam that you had kept. " Oh, shut up, at least I'm only going to graduate school once in my life and not twice, unlike someone I know. " "Sensitive topic, baby" he remarked as he threw his Hellfire shirt on you, and you laughed. You sat down next to him and joined him, exploring your old box of memories together.

" Take a look at this small photo album I made " He took the album from your hand and looked at the pictures inside.

" Is that Steve in the picture? Wow, I forgot you guys know each other for so long" he said. " Yeah, he was like a big brother and he still is, I think that was before we all became friends, right? " You tried to remember when you and your friends first became a group like you are now days. like, when did Eddie and Robin start hanging out with us and when we introduced them to the kids… until Eddie cuts your thoughts off. " Y/n… is that… Patrick? " he asked, pointing to the photo he was staring at, it was a picture of you and Patrick hugging. " eh.. yeah, as you can see.. " he looked at you confused. " Why on earth would you hug him? Were you friends back then? Well, that's a bit funny and..weird " he chuckled.

You scratched your head, starting to feel a little weird since you could see where this conversation was going. " Well, more like a couple... we were dating for a little while "

He stared at me, then back to the photo, then back at me again, oh God.. " what…Eddie why are you- " you were cut off by his laughter?

" what is so funny? " you took the photo out of his hands " Y/n baby, you two were dating? in what world ? " He looked at you while pretending that he's wiping away tears from his eyes from laughing. " Eddie, we really dated, I honestly expected you to react differently, but I'm not complaining." He stopped laughing and took the picture from your hand once again " what? are you serious? Y/n- him? out of all the guys in school you dated him? " He got upset, and I understand why. Patrick is one of Jason's friends, and they never really liked Eddie or the Hellfire guys, you know, a typical rich popular kids story is going on here, unfortunately. " Eddie, we weren't even friends when I was dating him, we broke up after I realized that he's not the best person in the world... he even told to me that he wouldn't do anything to anyone but... he's going after Jason like an idiot, just like Angela and her friends." He sighed " Why, you would prefer that I would've dated Jason instead? " You tried to make him laugh, but you just felt like you should stay quiet . " Yeah, that's exactly what I need to hear, my girl used to date Jason Carver, I already prefer Patrick " he laid on the floor and stared at the ceiling " Well, in this case, I prefer you " you said it teasingly. He continued to stare at the ceiling, but you could tell that he was trying not to smile because of your comment. you rest your head on his chest and look up at him.

( -> https://www.tonywodarck.com/blog/2019/1/16/kevin-amp-britney-rainy-day-in-home-session Hopfully it's okay that I'm using this photo ) " Poor thing, jealous of a guy I was dating in 9th grade for almost five months, do you need a hug? " he looks down at you, and you both laugh " okay, whatever you say, and I'm not damn jealous, he is the one who should be jealous, Why did he even break up with you? Is he stupid? " -" It sounds like you want us to get back together " he hit your head slightly - " And who said that he broke up from me, huh? I broke up from him, and also Steve didn't like him " " good for you and for Steve, great decision, proud of you " he said a bit sarcastically. You sat down and offered him your hand , he looked at your hand confusingly " what..? " he asked quietly " give me a high five " you said, and he actually high fived you " omg not really, come on get up you idiot " He took my hand in his, sat with his knees crossed, and looked at me. " Eddie, I want it to be clear, I love you and only you, okay? exes are from the past. I don't ask about your exes because I don't really care, well yeah maybe I asked about .. you know, so we are tie, but anyways, I know that you love me " he looked down " I know love, I know, I feel so dumb right now..sorry " - " you don't need to apologize, I kept this photo as a small memory of that time, not just because of him, sorry for makinf you feel like that ", he looked at you " it's fine, you don't need to explain it, that's your stuff, you do whatever you want, I'm sorry babe " you gave him his hellfire shirt " stop apologizing and change your shirt already " he takes the shirt "geez I forgot about the shirt" he took his shirt off and change it to the hellfire one "that was a nice view for a few seconds" you winked " Oh yes? Want to see the view again? " he said, not been serious at all " Don't get too carried away sweetie " you laugh.

Bonus:

You both spent the next hour going through your old stuff while listening to music.

Wow, look at what I found, "Y/n's secret diary" aww he opened the diary "Belongs to Y/n, 7th grade, please don't read, this is private" Mmm sounds interesting

- Yeah okay, now give it back to me I'm not giving it back to you - No, you are going give it back to me right now, Eddie! He raised his hand high that you had to jump to try to take it from him. I have the right to know who you had a crush on in seventh grade. - I can tell you that myself, it was Michael Levi okay, I was madly in love with him, I wrote about him almost every day in this diary... So, what do you care if I read a little bit? He flipped through a few pages in the diary until he found something " Dear diary, today I got just an 88 in math " He closed the diary and looked at you Wow, you got only an 88 in math? what a difficult childhood, my poor thing, are you okay? You giggled from embarrassment as he drew your head closer to his, and he hugged you. " how did you handle this at this young age babe? " - Don't laugh at me, it's a "sensitive topic" You both laughed.

________________________

I hope that you enjoyed! yeah, it's not my best, I did'nt know how to end this, but I like the bonus part lol

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mecachrome · 2 months

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Hi k! I love reading your ojp scholarship, as he has crept up on me and taken over my brain. Weird question but why do you think he picked Lando as his guy to be a bit weird about?

hi anon 🥺 first off thank u for indulging me & also that is not a weird question at all!!!

ok obviously this is just me saying Anything so i apologize in advance T__T but tbh i think a lot of it ultimately goes back to the idea of lando's ~Proximity~ and how a very specific mélange of career circumstance laid out a foundation for oscar's interest extremely early on... which. let me explain!!! more behind the cut:

not to go on too much of a tangent but if you look at the current drivers in f1 who are roughly within a few years of oscar's age and could have feasibly been someone he'd looked up to coming up the ranks, i'd say the cutoff is like, 2018? so the group is basically charles/george/alex/lando, of whom the first 3 were alr in intrepid together (albeit in diff categories) when oscar had barely started karting at all. also alex moved up to single-seaters very early and his career/road to f1 is obviously a lot more complex than the others, so in reality the only ones oscar would have properly "followed" are lando and george, and then having gone through rfm & british f4 himself it makes sense that he'd lean more toward lando.

...idk how to put this succinctly but basically it's Like: so you're a kid in australia who believes in yourself so much you're willing to move halfway across the globe and attend boarding school by yourself while all your friends and family and the World As You've Always Known It grows and changes without you, and the team you're determined to prove yourself at has semi-recently achieved victory with a guy named lando norris, who is now british f4 champion and runs three separate series the same year you move to europe and goes on to win them all, who is extremely accessible on social media and is kind of awkward but charming and uses dumb unfunny gifs that match your level of online humor exactly, and all the while you're learning to navigate a new country, learning what it really means to prioritize the endless grind of motorsport, and you wouldn't dare look too far ahead into the future but sometimes you see him and think if he can keep winning everything then why not you?

So. also i think what always krills meeee about young_814 lore is that you have to really envision what they looked like circa 2016 like they were undersized dweebs for a majority of their lives!!! anyway. but also nasdlfnagk every time oscar is like i thought you were 30 with your goatee going on haha xD it's like U knowww he's flashing back to that image of little baby lando in his mind..... ok i need to relax.

there are of course other people oscar could have been weird about but in the end it's kind of just a Skill Issue thing / matter of attrition. like from the rfm pack max and logan and guanyu never progressed the same way lando did, and you also have to remember that by the time lando was a mclaren junior he was genuinely their Golden BoyTM, and i know we often talk about lando's competency kink but oscar is also similar to that but in like a ........ he needs to respect you on some fundamental level to be obsessed with you. so the fact that he genuinely rates lando contributes (imo) massively to the fundamentals of their dynamic!!!

also tbh to me one of oscar's biggest mental strengths is specifically that he isn't a very sentimental person, as in if he left to another team i don't think he'd be torn up or anything about not having lando as a teammate lol. but i DO believe he's someone who adapts very well to unfamiliar environments and is always willing to match someone's energy/meet them where they're at (again - especially when he respects them), so he's basically the perfect person to vibe with lando's idiosyncrasies and engage in all the lighthearted push/pulling they have going on. because like he genuinely thinks lando is funny and is more than happy to follow along his meandering bantz and the weirder lando is the weirder oscar is in response and that's just how they Work ?__? so At the end of the day it's: oscar was once a teenage boy who followed (still does) at ladbible instagram and watched the same gaming streamers lando likes or whatever and has seen lando grow into the man he is today (way more confident and "visible" and successful, very much a menace, brutally honest as ever) from this Very Specific vantage point of basically the only other junior after lando to have followed the same path to f1 and been Equally as good / achieved the same stock.

*__* does any of that make sense.

do u ever think about how lando (extensively nurtured by the team as their only junior) and oscar (basically crashlanded belatedly into his seat) are the only driver pairing in team history to have both debuted with mclaren........ do you ever think about how in a way lando's karting success indirectly influenced oscar's move to europe. do you ever think about how if alpine weren't an abject mess we would have never gotten 814 as teammates and lando would have just been Another Guy On The Grid to him........ 😮‍💨

#ask #me: i'll be brief. also me: (writes 20 paragraphs)

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livefastdriveyoung · 3 months

Text

Takeaways from Testing Day 1

The RB-20 Maintains Status Quo - Max ended a full 1.162 (don't quote me but I think that's the correct math) ahead of Lando Norris in P2. The car did not appear to struggle under its 142 laps. It also remained consistent across majority of the runs. Checo will drive tomorrow.

Aston Martin is being underestimated - Fernando Alonso is a world champion, he started his session in P3. He stayed there for a great deal of the session. Even ending in P8 puts him in the points if this is a race. Additionally, Lance pulled through into the top five, taking P4 for a period of time. He's a strong driver, he shouldn't be underestimated. They both finished in the points, and had Lance not lost his mirror he could have pulled a fast lap.

Williams Car is the problem, not the drivers - I cannot reiterate this one enough. Alex Albon had a fuel pump problem, so entirely out of his control. Logan Sargeant has improved. Undoubtedly so. Not only has he built up his muscle and trained hard, he spun out and still managed to get back onto the track, and sit at P10 for most of the session before ending P11. Allegedly the reason he had a spin out was also because of a gearbox/transmission error. Whether it was the cause or the issue was the result, he held it together well. The car is having problems, not the drivers.

Mercedes Performance - We know that Lewis Hamilton is a strong driver. He's never been the best qualifier when there are competitive cars. Yes, George did not do as well as he could have, ending with P12, but he experienced at least two lock-ups. There's no guarantee that the issues don't exist in Lewis's car as well. We'll see what happens.

The complaint about their front wing design is interesting. F1 and FIA are separate organizations. Mercedes wouldn't blatantly violate the letter of the law, they would be the first team to be called out for it. They follow the letter and have the approval of the FIA. It has been approved. Whether F1's concern about the 'spirit' of the law being violated is something that could impact them, I don't know. I'm sure that the new rules will include a provision against this next year, but any immediate action, I doubt. Symonds is unimpressed.

Haas is not to be thrown out of the running - yet - A new team principal means that there are going to be changes. They straight out said the focus was on the Tyres and not on performance. While they are not a strong team, I think that throwing them away just because you might have preferred Guenther, or like to rely on what you already know, this isn't that. Yet.

Visa Cash-App Racing Bulls - Forget it, I'm calling them V-CARB. Anyway, Daniel Ricciardo, (LOL that autocorrected to all caps which is so funny) had minimal struggle with the car. His first few laps were not great,, but to end in P4 is wonderful. His statements about a podium in the beginning of the season being a dream not a reality is interesting, but I wonder if that is self-deprecation/spreading the party message from within Red Bull's house. Yuki finished P13, but, again, only had a morning slot. He was high up for a good portion of the day as well. I think this is going to be interesting. The narrative that they are not a junior team anymore seems to be accurate.

Stake did well - The C44 is worlds ahead of last year's model. Additionally, we forget regularly that Bottas was a Mercedes driver, he's won Gps before. Zhou is not a bad driver, I think this might be his last season to prove himself because I think Audi will keep someone who has a history of winning, and if the rumors are true, Carlos Sainz will be getting one of the seats. But that might motivate him. He's also young, 24 is below the mean age of the drivers (29) and if he can demonstrate improvements, they might keep him over Bottas.

Ferrari Fights - Buckle down y'all. I don't think that Carlos will do anything to sabotage Charles, he's not an idiot, but he's going to do what he has to in order to prove that Ferrari are losing out on a driver. He was P3 today. Charles is great, we know he can drive, his improvement is clear. I'm curious as to what that is going to look like.

if he's moved on from this, he's going to need to demonstrate to Audi that he can be a First Driver.

Alpine - Pierre pulled P5 right at the end. Ocon is toward the bottom. I'm not sure what's going on in house but nobody is happy allegedly. Guess we'll see.

#f1 #f1 testing #red bull racing #vcarb #mercedes #ferrari #williams racing #max verstappen #george russell #alex albon #logan sargeant #daniel ricciardo

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foxwithapen · 1 year

Text

"Hey, Junior." Luigi waved, locating the young koopa in their secret meetup spot far enough away from the castle so they wouldn't be caught. Luigi decided to bring his toolkit that day; he wasn't in the mood to improve a screwdriver again.

Junior nodded his head in acknowledgement, but his eyes stayed directed at the ground. A glum shadow passed across his face.

Luigi dropped to the ground, trying to catch Junior's attention. Luigi rested a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, bud, what's up? Did something happen?"

Junior just shrugged.

"Okay then. Did something break?"

Again, another shrug.

"Hmm, well, I might have something that can cheer you up." Luigi fished around in his pocket, pulling out a rainbow lollypop. It wasn't the biggest, but it was the only kind left in stock at the store he frequented.

Junior allowed Luigi to press the candy into his palm, but his distracted frown barely budged. "Dad wants to speak with you," he mumbled, twisting the lollypop between his fingers.

Luigi's stomach dropped. "O-oh, alright, well, that's not too bad. We'll just have a little chat, and after I'll have plenty of time to hang out with you. Maybe we could go work on some upgrades for your car?"

He sighed, taking Luigi's hand. "That sounds nice..."

Luigi smiled, ruffling the koopa's hair. "Alright, good, I'm glad. Now, let's get going, eh? Your father doesn't seem like a very patient man."

Junior giggled, popping the lollypop into his mouth, the hardened sugar cracking easily under his sharp teeth. "Yeah."

"Well then, lead the way."

"So, uh, what do you want with me?"

Normally, Bowser on his throne was a threatening sight, but not now, as his shoulders sagged and his arrogant smile was replaced with something sadder. If it wasn't the Koopa King himself, Luigi might've thought he was anxious.

Bowser sighed. "Does Junior hate me?"

Luigi was taken aback. "S-scusi?"

Bowser sounded strange when he spoke, and it didn't take Luigi long to realize why; for once, he was quiet. Thoughtful, even. "He's been strange lately. He seems upset. And, for some reason, you're the person he trusts the most. Has he...has he said anything about me?"

"Well, he says he's lonely."

"You told me that already. But why? There's plenty of people around."

"Yes, but he wants you." When Bowser didn't immediately respond, Luigi added, "Why're you so busy, anyways?"

"I'm just...trying to get him a better life. Find him and the other kids another parent, strengthen the kingdom, be a good father. What am I doing wrong?"

"Maybe he doesn't want those things. He doesn't need another parent, he needs you. Instead, you spend all your time trying to capture the princess, or attack her kingdom." Luigi wasn't sure how far he had pressed his luck, but for Junior, it was worth it. "You need to get your act together."

Luigi flinched as Bowser stood up from his throne, waiting for an attack or for a column of flame to swallow him whole. But instead, Bowser just...smiled. "Uh, thanks, Luigi."

Luigi smiled back; maybe the Koopa King wasn't so bad after all. "You're welcome." Halfway through leaving the hall, he turned around and added, "And thank you for reaching out. I'm sure Junior would appreciate it."

Just as he had reached the door, a voice sounded from behind him. "Would you maybe like to come over? For dinner next week, I mean?"

Maybe Bowser hadn't expected Luigi to hear him, because when he looked back again, Bowser was already looking out the window, watching something Luigi couldn't see. Or perhaps there wasn't actually anything there at all. But, either way, Luigi felt his heart in his throat as he answered. "Sure. I'll see you then."

#bowuigi #luigi #bowser #bowser junior #bowuigi fic #after a bit of writers block and waning motivation #we back

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ajaxhearts · 5 months

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christmas?

summary: what it would be like to spend christmas in argentina, an oikawa x reader fic <3

cw: nothing really, fluff

꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦

you don't know how to describe how you managed to end up here, in a shared home with oikawa tōru. i mean, you met in your junior year because he had left his knee pads in your classroom, but wouldn't that have been all there was to your meeting? apparently not, because that same year he brought you away from the crowd, pulled out a small box of chocolates and telling you how wonderful you were. how even the smallest bits of you made him fall.

that day was memorable for the both of you, though he hates the thought of how shy he was. now you're both 25, and spending your time in argentina, shared house with him still focused on his volleyball career. december 25th, it's finally christmas!

"baby, have you got the hot cocoa ready?" he asks, preparing the gingerbread cookies he made, albeit miserably failing the first time.

"yes! i just need to place marshmallows in." going through the pantry, looking for the softest marshmallows there were.

"please give me a lot!!" he chimed in, smiling like an idiot.

"sure, tōru." it was always in the littlest things where you found him cute.

this was the first christmas you'd ever spend away from your family, but it was still memorable nonetheless, as you'd be spending it with the love of your life— who seems to be just as excited as you.

walking towards the fireplace, hot cocoas in hand with the gingerbread cookies plated in a pile, the both of you felt at home.

"you know," blowing and taking a sip from your mug, you began.

"i never thought about how i'd end up spending christmas with the oikawa tōru". emphasis on the.

"well, i never thought i'd be spending christmas with the person i met because of kneepads." he laughs, sipping from his mug as well.

the clock ticked, and it was now time for gifts.

"me first!" you grabbed his gift from under the tree, handing it to him.

"what'd you get me, baby?"

"hehe." was all you could reply, hoping he'd love it just as much as you did.

opening the present, he found a medium-sized box. a hmm.. came out of his mouth, skeptical and curious. as he lifted the cover of the box, he saw confetti and how the box was covered in pictures of you both, attached with small notes and his favorite candy.

"love, this is so sweet!" he was completely in awe and touched by your simple gift.

"i'm glad you like it, tōru."

shuffling over to his side, he pulls out a santa-themed bag for your gift. handing it to you, you didn't know but he was nervous and his heart was beating like crazy.

"here you go, baby." he says, hoping you wouldn't notice how tense he was right now.

"oooohh, what's this?" not expecting anything extravagant, you open the bag to find a small velvet box inside— what?

you take it out, and deny whatever was coming up in your head. holy moly, was he—noooo. you opened the box, inside was a beautiful golden ring, with a teal colored precious gem in the middle. he took the box from you and you turned, seeing him on one knee.

"[name], you being with me today makes my heart so full and so happy." oh my god, is this real?

"i knew from the very moment you were okay with me training so much that you'd be the one for me". "so please, [name], will you make this the best christmas ever and marry me?" you froze. he's actually proposing.

"tōru i— oh my god." shaking like crazy, you breathe in and nod. "yes, yes i will!" he stands up and brings you with him, slipping the ring on your finger. planting a kiss on your lips, he had the biggest smile on his face.

"i love you, [name]." he tells you, seeing your pink-tinted cheeks.

"i love you more, 'kawa."

"merry christmas, my love."

t'was a merry christmas indeed.

#oikawa tooru #haikyuu oikawa #oikawa x reader #oikawa tōru #oikawa fluff #haikyuu #haikyu x reader #haikyū!!#toru #christmas #toru oikawa

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dearshelby · 5 months

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Curses, spirits and other things to not believe in | T.S x OC

Summary: Three times Eleanor didn't believe in anything mystical and the one time she nearly did

A/N: I'm in a roll with Eleanor I swear I can't stop thinking about her, although she's my skeptical bby this had absolutely NO INTENTION of disrespecting any cultures or beliefs (and btw "kotex" is the 1920s pads, just in case you don't know 😌)

1919

The only thing going through her head as she made the way to Charlie's yard was Tommy's sad features. The raindrops rolling down his face as he blankly said his horse was cursed was more than enough to make her heart sink.

She couldn't let this go past without explanation. She wouldn't.

Walking through the gates, her nose wrinkled to the smell of engine oil, horses and rust. As a teenager, the place had served as a meeting spot many times, it didn't look as bad decorated with candles and flowers, or perhaps it did and she was too focused on Tommy to notice.

"Curly?!" Eleanor called when no one came to welcome her.

"He woke up with a bad fucking fever," Charlie's raspy voice answered from far as he slowly walked to her, "he's too soft to see horses dying,"

"Mr. Strong," she greeted.

"How many times did I tell you to call me Charlie?"

"It's rude-"

"To call the oldest by their names?" he completed, "but you call Polly,"

"Well, we're closer," she explained, "no offense,"

"None at all," he humorlessly chuckled, "what brings you to my yard, girl? Tommy hasn't come since last night,"

"Yeah, that's what I wanted to talk about," she gulped, "I'd like to take a better look at the horse, there must be something that went unnoticed for it to get sick in a matter of hours,"

"You know nothing about horses, do you think you'd get something that Tommy and Curly didn't?" Charlie argued, "It was cursed, Tommy must've told you,"

"He did, I don't believe him," she said, "Have you buried it already?"

"No, but it's stinking,"

"So let me see it,"

"Look, I'm telling you, there was nothing wrong with the horse until the Lees cursed it," turning on his heel, he started walking out.

"Wait! Mr. Strong, please!" Eleanor pleaded, "Tommy thinks the horse was cursed because of him, I can't stand seeing him with the bloody blues because of something that makes no fucking sense,"

"...he's lucky to have you, y'know? I'll tell him that,"

"No! I don't want him to know, not until I have an answer,"

"Tommy has an answer, I don't think he wants another one," he dismissed, "go home, girl, if you really want him to feel better bake something nice,"

Eleanor's jaw clenched as she watched Charlie going away, then quickly softened. There was no use arguing, she returned home without an answer.

1920

"Don't you have something to share with the family? Or at least with Tommy?" Polly questioned.

Eleanor immediately tensed up, she wasn't ready to talk about her recently found pregnancy. Tommy was too focused on building a good reputation for the company for her to drop the news, his reaction worried her.

"How did you-"

"I dreamed it and you confirmed," Polly explained, "wearing large blouses, not drinking, slowing down in the betting shop and the chores,”

“I-” she gulped, “I think you really want another baby in the family, so much you're dreaming it,”

“It's a girl,” Pol continued, “beautiful, with Tommy's eyes,”

“Pol,” Eleanor scowled, “I'm not pregnant,”

“Why don't you want to tell?”

She gritted her teeth, then sighed, “It doesn't make sense, are you watching me?”

‘Eleanor, I'm telling you, I foresaw Katie, Martha, Junior, Peter and David, all of John's, do you think I wouldn't see Tommy's?”

“No, you must've went through my drawers and noticed I haven't used kotex in a while, nor sent Finn to get any,”

“Still using the poor boy for that?” Polly smiled, “Think whatever you like, I saw my niece,”

Ellie looked down, she had no idea of how her aunt in law found out about her pregnancy, but she felt deep relief, at least now she could talk to someone.

“I don't know how to tell him, he's so focused on the company, it's not the right time,”

“It's Tommy, darling, there’ll never be a right time,” noticing her concern, Polly added, “he will love this child more than anything else,”

“I hope so,”

“‘Course he will, I know him, just listen to me and don't do anything stupid,”

“Okay,” Eleanor whispered and weakly smiled, “but you'll still have to tell me how you found out.”

1924

“Tom,” she called, going through her jewelry box while he got dressed in front of the mirror, “did you see the sapphire you gave me?”

He looked at her through the side of his eye. Truth be told, she didn't even like the jewel, it was way too big and lacking details, she didn't see any other women wearing something so scandalous at the fundraising dinner. However, it was a gift from Tommy, he seemed proud to be able to provide her luxuries and if he insisted on her wearing it, then she would.

Moreover, the way he seemed to blame a curse for the italians’ murder attempt got on her nerves. He was certain her almost death was caused by cursed jewelry and not Lizzie being stubborn enough to date a man from a gang and work for another and John throwing a violent jealousy tantrum.

Oh, how she wished she could sell them both to the italians. She knew the Changrettas, they often went to her mum's sewing shop and she was sure they'd accept her truce offer. But unfortunately, Tommy wouldn't.

“No,” he mumbled.

“Did we leave it in the hospital?” she asked, a shiver running down her spine as she remembered the excruciating pain from getting a bullet removed, “I'll send someone to get it, I don't think they'd steal from a Shelby,”

“There's no need, they won't find it,” he sighed and put his cigarette down, “I took the sapphire,”

“Then where is it?”

“Far from here,” he explained, “far from our house,”

“What?! Tommy, do you even know how much a sapphire costs?!” she argued, “Of course you do! You bought it! What did you even do with it?!”

“Eleanor, you know why we can't keep it at home,” he drawled, few things annoyed him as much as her unbelief.

“Ah, yes, of course!” she ironically smiled, “it was the sapphire that got me shot, not John's and Lizzie's stupidity!”

“And what do you want me to do? Give my brother away?”

Yes, she thought, he should've known better.

“No, Tommy, I don't want anything bad to come at John,” she answered instead, “but I see how much this takes a toll on you, he's responsible for this and he should be the one to fix it,”

“There's no talking to those bastards, they want him dead, they tried to kill you-”

“No, they tried to kill you,” she interrupted.

“Doesn't fucking matter, the sapphire is gone and the italians will be soon,”

Rolling her eyes, Eleanor picked another jewel to wear, aware that if Tommy was utterly certain of something, there was no way of changing his mind.

1924

Eleanor pursed her lips as the other woman entered her car. Her long curly was covered by a black headscarf, contrasting with her red dress and the gold bracelets, but matching her dark make-up.

“Madame Boswell,” Ellie greeted, “I'm Elea-”

“I know who you are,” she interrupted.

“...do you know what I want as well?”

“Your husband came to me when you were in the hospital, I sensed great sadness in him,” the madame weakly smiled, “same as you, healthy but in pain,”

“Well, this time,” she sighed, holding back tears, “he's badly injured, doctors said he'll be alright but,”

“You don't believe them,”

“I do, but I need better assurance,” reaching for a small box in the backseat, she handed it to the madame, “sapphires are quite expensive but this is much more,”

Boswell opened the box, revealing a shiny diamond necklace.

“I want you to make sure my Tommy will be alright,” Eleanor continued.

“You want to trade a life for a diamond,”

“If you can't do it tell me who can,”

Madame looked at the jewel, back at Ellie, then closed the box, “There'll be someone looking out for him all the time, do not worry, he'll live,”

Eleanor's jaw clenched. Of course there would be someone, her, she always took care of him, now wouldn't be any different.

“Anything else?” she asked, trying to get something more certain.

“Is there something more you want me to do?”

“No,” annoyed for letting her despair talking louder than her sense, she opened the car's door and ordered, “get out, you can keep the diamond,”

“I'm gonna do as you asked,” Madame assured as she climbed out the car.

“You're being well paid for that.”

Driving back home, she worried about what could've happened while she was away. Hiring the best doctors in England would've been much better than wasting time with mysticism. She should know better by then.

#tommy shelby x oc #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder imagine #OC Eleanor Shelby

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