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heartsofminds · 3 months

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i'm calling just to hear you scream - part i

"She’s tried to be positive. She’s tried to be kind. She’s trying to be the peacekeeper, but all of that falls out the window when her brother is bitching out everything that fucking blinks and breathes and Richie has slung a sledgehammer into the wrong wall that needed to be knocked down." or Natalie gets fed the fuck up and hires a hospitality attorney before everything else turns to shit.

a/n: i couldn't help myself at all and had to bite by trying my hand at writing for carmy! what can i say? i love men with trauma that need to be cuddled like newborns! please enjoy the beginning of enemies to lovers to enemies back to lovers fic with a workaholic chef and an overly empathetic attorney. angst is my brand! i hope you enjoy!

Being the peacekeeper of your family is never something anyone ever sets out to be.

One day you’re normal and live blissfully with the rose-colored lenses of naivety tinting life shades of bashful blush and magnetic magenta. The next day you’re diffusing a spitfire scarlett dispute between your anxiety-ridden mother and impulsively crude older brother while simultaneously taming the balloon of battered blue tears your baby brother sheds who observes from the corner; scared yet somehow unaware of the emotions sucking the oxygen out of everyone.

At first, it feels good. It feels nice to be appreciated and turned to in moments of darkness. Helpfulness defines your livelihood and gives you the nameplate of the gold star child who can never do any wrong and always finds a solution. But then you realize that is what you ever really are, and you’re both hated for your inability to let things sour and for always having an answer despite uncertainty plaguing every course of action.

Being the peacekeeper of your family is both a Medal of Honor, worn with pride and graciousness, yet a bullet wound wielded by shame and agony. The tenderness and hurt push on it until you can hardly stand it; half expecting pus to be seeping out in pale yellow heaps because the pain feels so real.

There are no exit wounds. There are no breaks. There is no humanity or personal identity or room for self-discovery.

A peacemaker is all you will be and all you will ever accomplish, and you’ll never say it out loud but it’s fucking exhausting.

Being the peacemaker is something Natalie Berzatto never fucking asked for, yet here she is, playing project manager to her haywire (and sometimes freakishly obsessive) baby brother’s blind-eyed throw of a dart that manifested itself in asking Uncle Jimmy for an eight hundred thousand dollar loan with the promise to have it completely paid back within eight months.

She’s not one to rain on a parade, but it’s hard to keep marching when your entire life has been putting out the fires of overly ambitious business ventures during unmedicated fits of mania. She had seen it with their dad, with their mom, and with Mikey. Carmen is the last needle needed to complete the fucked up haystack that engulfs their family.

She’s tried to be positive. She’s tried to be kind. She’s trying to be the peacekeeper, but all of that falls out the window when her brother is bitching out everything that fucking blinks and breathes and Richie has slung a sledgehammer into the wrong wall that needed to be knocked down.

Natalie has never thought of looking into Botox until now; when her face is set in a permanent scowl and her resting heart rate nears triple digits. Pete had been telling her for the past three weeks that she was doing amazing; that this was an impossible task to complete stress-free, and that the stress was “good” because it meant that she cared.

Sometimes she doesn’t realize that not everyone has a mom who drives the fucking car through the den during Christmas Eve dinner nor does everyone have a mom who moves all the furniture to the backyard before having to leave for their oldest brother’s high school graduation. Not everyone has an older brother who blows his head off and doesn’t leave a note and not everyone has a younger brother who would lose his head if it wasn’t attached to his body and had his mouth that was spewing hurtful insults by the dozen.

Stress does not mean that you care. Stress means that your eyes are staring at the fucking Sun trying to see where the other shoe is getting ready to drop because there’s always another disappointment and always another phone call to make to the pharmacy for more SSRIs.

Needless to say, Richie calling Neil “lard ass” on an antagonizing loop after he had pointed out the wrong wall was being destroyed was the last straw. Well, that and the fact she found a new patch of white hairs colonizing on her hairline the other morning. Constant shouted insults, gray hairs popping up overnight, and the colossal secret of a new infant making its arrival into the chaos in October weigh heavy on her. And she absolutely cannot afford to lose her cool and become the kind of bitchy and mean she knows that she’s capable of.

Your phone number sits inside the LED-lit text thread of a friend she had known in high school. Becca was the older sister of Claire Cantor whom her little brother may have or may have not had a pathetic crush on years ago when he was in high school.

She feels kind of grimy doing what she is; offering up information about Carmy to Becca to give to Claire who apparently thought her baby brother was the bee's knees (which, if she saw the way he was acting right now, Natalie knows she would run the other way). She doesn’t even think Carmen has the capability to think of anything outside of the restaurant and the menu and how royally fucked they all are.

She can feel the dull ache of guilt in her chest that comes with knowing how unlikely anything is to come from this, and how wrong she is for pretending like her telling Becca where he grocery shops or if he has a girlfriend or if he was currently looking for someone to date would somehow tether Claire to a world where her and Carmen are a “thing” (because apparently “boyfriend and girlfriend” is too permanent of a word for Chicagoan twenty-somethings to use).

But she’s doing it for the sake of everyone else! It can’t possibly be as gross and low-lived as she feels it is.

Becca Cantor is insufferable and can only be taken in small doses, but she’s also a big wig junior partner at one of the most lucrative law firms in Chicago. Natalie hates blowing smoke up people’s asses who don’t deserve it (and in Becca’s case certainly don’t need it), but she desperately needs help and knows that she needs to figure something out before she fucks herself in such a deep hole that she couldn’t attempt to unfuck herself if she tried.

Your official title is “junior associate” and you had been working at Becca’s firm following your graduation from Northwestern’s Pritzker School of Law a couple of years prior. Becca had said you were amazing; freakishly smart, funny, and hardworking. She also mentioned that you were the best kind of junior associate; the ones that know when to shut the fuck up and when to get the fuck out of the way. The addition added before the text conversation ended was how you were looking to get your foot into the hospitality legal field, and how you were willing to do anything concerning that for free fucking ninety-nine if it meant you would have some experience.

Natalie sits with her lower lip worried between her teeth and her hands one tick shy of shaking. Her heart beats erratically despite lounging on her couch with the lights off and a re-run of That 70’s Show playing softly in the background. She makes a mental note to bring up the high resting heart rate at her next OB appointment.

It’s because she’s pregnant. Yes. It has to be because she’s pregnant.

She shouldn’t be nervous. It would be absolutely ridiculous to be nervous. She’s not nervous.

She already ran the idea past Sydney and she agreed that they absolutely needed a lawyer in their back pocket. With all of the tax records fucked beyond belief, new workers being hired who actually knew their worth and wouldn’t tolerate not having an actual employement contract, and the lack of permits under their belt currently, a lawyer wouldn’t hurt if getting one turned out to not be as helpful as anticipated. Besides, Becca had said you were doing it for them pro bono which in turn meant free fucking nintey-nine.

But Natalie had lied to Carmen about how much some fluted cocktail glasses cost to ensure that they purchased the cheaper ones so that she could run the numbers and figure out a way to put you on the payroll. Pro bono or not, you’re doing them a huge favor and part of her can’t put the peacekeeping to rest.

Her fingers type and untype a novel of characters. She can’t seem to relax her mind enough to articulate what exactly she wants to say. She has one shot to not scare you off and not lose her mind in a fit of fiery rage and not have everything turn to shit and it be her fault. She has to be perfect.

Fuck. She is nervous.

Hi! This is Natalie Berzatto. I’m one of Becca Cantor’s friends and she referred me to you. I’m working on opening a restaurant and would like for you to swing by and discuss some things about it if you’re open to that! Please let me know. I’m looking forward to hearing back from you soon!

Nat’s finger hits the blue “send” arrow in the rounded box of her phone screen the same time she pushes a gag to the back of her throat. She used to work at a marketing firm for Christ’s sake. Cold contacting people isn’t anything new and she’s usually not one to shy away from reaching out to anyone in her personal life first. But she can’t help the fact that she’s never been able to swallow the artificial bubble gummy niceness of reaching out to a complete stranger for the first time. She feels stupid and knows that she sounds even stupider but tries not to think about it.

Besides, keeping everything together is never easy and she knows that she would be selfish for letting her discomfort prevent her from doing what she knows is best.

Her breath is stuck in her chest as she eyes the open text thread to an unsaved number; her blue text message staring at her menacingly and breeding contempt as the seconds pass. She gasps loudly whenever she sees the gray bubbles pop up beneath it. Pete pokes his head into the living room with a tea towel in his hand and one of the ceramic plates they had eaten dinner on in the other. His eyes wear concern but he knows better than to confront his wife. Natalie was anything but sugary sweet when she was stressed and the influx of hormones as of late have not been helping.

You see the message as soon as Natalie sends it. The unknown “312” number finds its way into your notifications and your eyes read over the words in a frenzy. You know that you’re intelligent. You graduated from law school for fuck’s sake, but for some reason you absolutely cannot comprehend the text you’re reading.

Firstly, you were sure Becca hated your fucking guts. She was a junior partner that everyone hated being assigned to because she pushed all her work onto the associates and nothing ever seemed to be good enough for her. Part of the reason you had to take work home tonight was because she sent you an email with enough passive-aggressive undertone to know that these edits needed to be done now; never mind the fact that the time she took to type out the seven and a half page report about the original report probably took up so much time that she could’ve done the task herself. But yet you replied kindly and have been working through your brain fog and finger cramps since arriving home at six in the evening five hours ago.

Secondly, hospitality litigation was absolutely above your pay grade. You had taken one elective course on it during your 2L year and did a two-week internship before the start of 3L simply because one of your friends wanted to go on vacation and needed to find someone to cover for them. You know jack shit about hospitality law and you don’t even know why Becca Cantor, of all fucking people, would be so willing to recommend you when she couldn’t care less if you lived or died.

But of course, you can’t say no. You can never say no, and if this Natalie person was desperate enough to reach out to you via text at 11 PM on a Wednesday, she definitely needed help and needed it now. Besides, you would tell her that you do not need to be paid and if whatever she needs proves to be way too advanced for you, you can always help her find an attorney that knows what they’re doing.

Right?

It definitely doesn’t mean that you’ll pull an all-nighter and research every aspect of hospitality law in Illinois that you can get your hands on. . .Or look up every department dealing with food and management regulations in the state. . .Or try and look at precedent cases. Your firm gave you unlimited access to West Law. Might as well use it for something slightly more interesting than trusts, estates, and contracts.

You’re unusually pensive for something you know you would love to do. The ongoing battle as of late has been the dispute between seeking joy and wading in practicality; happiness or falsified peace?

You rub your eyes with a roughness that would make your optometrist cringe. You know that staring at your computer screen five hours after your contracted work hours ended was the culprit for your dry eyes, but the hours you need are not going to bill themselves. Getting up to get your eyedrops will have to wait.

Replying to Natalie cannot.

Your fingers type and untype; the feeling of texting back an unknown number foreign and unnerving.

Thanks so much for reaching out and thinking of me! I would love to. What dates and times work for you, and where would it be best for us to meet?

The text stares at you on your phone screen. Why do you sound so. . . corporate? Boring? Infantile.

She could probably tell you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about at all. The feeling of defeat rises in your throat but you ignore it and hit send instead. You’re trying to be better about that; letting your fear of uncertainty keep you from taking action. You’ve come to realize that the hard part isn’t doing the thing. It’s actually sitting in the aftermath of the “thing” and waiting for the rest of the world to catch up.

You bite your lip so hard it begins to bleed and throbs with each pulse of watery blood that fills your mouth. The gentle suck you give it to stop the bleeding makes it partially numb.

Fuck you, Becca. Fuck you, Becca. Fuck you, Becca.

Natalie chirps when your text illuminates her screen. She gasps and sits up; startling Pete who had settled next to her after finishing the dishes. Her eyes curl up in the same way her lips do.

Fucking finally.

The world no longer feels like it’ll fall apart.

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firehose118 · 3 months

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Let me get a taste

{ao3 link}

“Hen asked if we’re fucking,” Tommy says as he sits down at their table with his cake.

“Uh, what?” Buck asks. There’s no way he heard Tommy correctly.

“Hen asked if we’re fucking,” Tommy repeats. He gestures between them with his fork. “You and me. Well, I guess technically she and Karen both asked. They ambushed me to ask about my intentions.”

He takes a bite of cake and eats it slowly, moaning at the taste, just to be an asshole and rub it in Buck’s face that he can’t have any. Buck sometimes wishes he was the kind of person who found that annoying, but he likes it when Tommy does stuff like this; teases him and plays with him just this side of mean. Really likes it. And Tommy knows it.

“What’d you say?” Buck asks, a little dazed, caught in the fantasy of licking frosting off of Tommy’s lip.

He wants cake so badly. It’s bad enough he had to skip the mac & cheese at the buffet, now this? The cake on Tommy’s plate looks soft and fruity. Fuck keto. Fuck bodybuilding. It’s not fair.

Tommy licks frosting off of his fork and Buck salivates. “I told them we’re taking it slow. You’re setting the pace, and I’m just trying to keep up.” He lifts an eyebrow and savors another bite of cake

Buck laughs. “You made it sound like we’re fucking like rabbits.”

“Mhmm,” Tommy says around the cake in his mouth.

“And you… also said we’re taking it slow?” Buck’s eyebrows pull together in confusion.

“I did. They’re gonna have a hell of a time figuring that one out.” Tommy smiles as he takes the next bite of cake, obviously proud of the trick he’s played on their friends.

“You might be evil,” Buck teases.

“You love it,” Tommy says, scrunching his nose. “And anyway, it’s none of their business. You’re not a teenage girl in 1954, going out with some biker from the wrong side of the tracks. You’re a grown man. You can suss out my intentions for yourself. I’d hope you know by now that I didn’t agree to a second date at your sister’s wedding just to get in your pants.”

“I do know that,” Buck assures him. Their sex life is pretty active—very satisfying—but they’ve spent far more time talking, working out, cooking, and even cuddling than they have with their dicks out. It’s probably the most well-rounded relationship Buck has ever had. He feels respected. “You’re a total gentleman.”

“I wouldn’t go that far. I have to admit,” Tommy pitches his voice down, “seeing you in that medal… I’m feeling a little less than honorable right now.” He gathers the last bite of cake onto his fork.

Buck feels a thrill run through his body at Tommy’s words, but he’s watching that cake with rapt attention. “Give me the last bite,” he says. He sounds pleading even to his own ears, so he doubles down. “Tommy, please.”

“No,” Tommy deadpans. “If you’re gonna break ketosis, you’re gonna do it with someone else’s cake.”

“I don’t want someone else’s cake, baby, I want yours.” Buck goes for charming, flirty, seductive, but he’s desperate. He hasn’t had any carbs in days and the cake smells so good. He’s about to launch himself at Tommy and take that last forkful of cake himself.

“Mmm, lucky me,” Tommy purrs. “Pretty boy wants my cake all to himself and here I am, just trying to keep up.”

Tommy pops the cake into his mouth just as Buck lunges at it. His hand lands on Tommy’s empty plate.

“Evil!” Buck gasps, laughing.

“You love it,” Tommy repeats around his mouthful of cake.

“I really do.”

Tommy barely has time to swallow before Buck is kissing him; open-mouthed and honestly a little too dirty considering where they are and which homophobic captains are still around. Buck is chasing the taste of cake and frosting on Tommy’s lips, on his tongue, and he can’t help but moan as the flavors swirl and burst to life in his mouth: vanilla and strawberry and Tommy. He’s never tasted anything better.

Tommy pulls back before Buck starts licking the sugar off of his teeth. He presses a hand into Buck’s chest to gently push him back into his seat.

“Easy there, Evan. We’re still in public.”

“We got medals for breaking the law.” Buck’s eyes are dark, hungry. Now that he’s had a taste he wants seconds, thirds. Tommy’s been teasing him and all Buck wants is to get his mouth back on Tommy and never come up for air. “We can do whatever we want.”

Tommy laughs. “If only that were true. Save your appetite, though. I might have some cake you can eat at home.” He smirks, eyebrow raised. “If you behave.”

Buck smiles, wide and flirty. “Is it keto-friendly?” He leans closer again.

“All protein, baby.”

#tommy kinard bitchy gay i love you with my whole heart #spent the day writing something you’ll probably see later #got in bed after house of the dragon and wrote this #wild how invigorating a 36 second clip of your favorite gays can be #no hate to hen and karen I do think they had good intentions and were genuinely looking out for buck #but tommy was having none of it and I do think that’s also valid #like they should’ve gone to buck and been like ‘is he treating you right? you can tell us’#also hen has a history of being skeptical of ppl her closest friends are dating (see: her not sure if chim should propose to maddie)#bc she’s being protective. but ultimately coming around on them #and I love that she did that for buck too. I love their friendship so much #anyway #911 abc #bucktommy #mine #7x09

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the-californicationist · 8 months

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he cleans up nice

Captain John Price has a medal ceremony and you help him get ready for his big event.

Warning: face fucking, domination/submission, literal boot-licking

The desire to breathe was overriding your ability to stay still. Because his cock was so thick, and because he shoved it deep enough to block your airway, you were losing control of your movements, your body writhing and squirming to free itself, tears running down your face as your system tried whatever it could to force you to take a breath. The tiles were slippery and cold on your shins as you shifted your weight, desperate to get oxygen into your lungs. He moved his hand from your jaw to the back of your head and held you snugly there, shushing you,

“Shh, baby. Count to ten for me. That’s it. Be good for me, alright?”

You nodded as much as his grip allowed and moved forward, nuzzling the dense hair around the base of his cock, lapping your tongue around his edges, moaning loudly and feeling the vibrations through your mouth. Hot, slick drool escaped the corner of your lip and ran down his skin. Your throat began to clench on its own, gagging with panic.

John pulled himself from you quickly, making loud sticky noises as he did, your body gasping for air as it recovered.

“Deep breath, sweetheart. So good. You did so good for me, you know that? Such a beautiful little slag, hm? Loves that cock.”

Without much hesitation, he fed himself back into your swollen mouth. You instinctively tried to push him back, begging with your bloodshot eyes for mercy, and he looked down with his brow furrowed,

“Uh, oh. It’s big, innit? That throat feels so fuckin’ brilliant. Lemme feel it, baby. Just wanna feel it again. Fuck, yes!”

John thrust his cock in and out of your mouth fully for three or four pounding strokes, head thrown back in joyous agony, leaking precome onto your tongue, salty-sweet and warm.

He’d put you in the shower without the water on, playing with your nipples and kissing your neck at first, just sweet as a first love’s touch, but he had other plans.

Kissing turned to licking. Licking turned to teeth, and with them he’d subdued you, not allowing you to come but keeping you dripping, drawing out more and more of your fluid onto his hands, smearing it onto your lips and thighs, eating it off of his hands.

By the time he even allowed you to fall to your knees, you were practically begging to taste him, mewling and whining, your hands constantly fondling his growing length, eager like an addict.

And now, here you were, bruised and swollen, pink from your struggle, full of his hardness and sore from his challenging girth. He smiled down at you,

“Let me hear your screams. Scream my name around that cock. You look so hot when your mouth is full of me. Bloody hell, look at that.”

“Mmh?” You made an attempt, struggling to keep your eyes open you were so drunk from his power.

“Oh, fuck. Again,” he groaned, bucking forward uncontrollably.

“Mmhn! Mmhn, mmm,” you poured gasoline on his fire.

“Fuuuuuckkin’ hell. You wanna taste my come?”

“Mm hm,” you nodded, playing with your swaying breasts as he fucked your face against his hands.

“So goddamn pretty. Fuck -” John rutted forward, almost losing his balance as he spilled himself into your mouth, filling your cheeks with his melting saltiness. Cruelly, he forced himself back down, making you swallow him in order to have access to the air again.

“John!” You gasped as he released you, sitting on the tile beside you, panting just as hard as you were.

He chuckled darkly, jerking his softening cock in slow movements,

“C’mere, love. Clean me up with that tongue of yours.”

You bent forward, awkward against the biting tile, trying to lick the stray come on his shaft and balls, dutiful and diligent.

“Mmm, good girl. You’re so damn pretty when you’ve got my come on your lips like that. Gonna make me late for my speech.”

Captain John Price was receiving a Medal of Honor tonight, and Laswell had to threaten him with trainee duty in order for him to agree to attend. It was more meaningless “chest candy” - as Soap liked to call it - and he couldn’t have cared less.

“Can’t wait to see you all dressed up. You know how much I like you in that uniform, babe,” you kissed his neck chastely, begging for attention again, needy and wet from your work.

“Wish we could just stay in. I can smell your needy little cunt from here, and I wanna fill you up,” he stole your mouth to kiss and suck on your lips, not caring if he was covering you in spit and tasting his own come.

“Come on,” he said, breaking away for a moment, “Shower with me so I can play with you, baby.”

He helped you up and turned on the steaming water. It sprayed over your skin and made you dizzy from its heat. John held you in his arms and rubbed you down with soap, smearing it all over your breasts and plucking at your nipples indulgently.

You felt sparks rush through your core, and you struggled to form a coherent thought. Under his heavy control, you found yourself pliant and exceedingly needy.

“John, please. I need…please?”

“You need to come, don’t you? Is that what you’re beggin’ me for?”

“Yes,” you nuzzled against him, canting your hips shamelessly, presenting yourself to him like you were in heat, “Can you help me, please?”

“Sweet girl, so desperate, hm?”

John kissed your neck through the stream of hot water and sank his thick fingers deep into your pussy, thrusting in and out, curling his fingertips to press into your walls. His thumb drew languid circles around your clit as you trembled in his grasp, screaming and nearly crying from the searing pleasure.

“That’s it, baby. Use my hand to get off. Just like that. My pretty fucking slut, so good for me.”

“John - ah, fuck…” you lost your breath and gasped. The sensations rolled through you like a storm, lightning and thunder rumbling in your belly, flinging you into his chest to be crushed into his huge, looming frame.

He cradled you as you recovered, washing your hair and his, kissing you when and how he wanted, touching you when and how he wanted, claiming you as he saw fit. You surrendered to him, fully under his thrall. Price helped towel you off, and he braided your hair reverently.

You remained fully naked, but you began to help him dress for his event. His SAS dress uniform was black with a red stripe down the leg, a red sash, and a white belt. You zipped the fly of his pants and buttoned it together, making sure it sat exactly right on his waist. You helped him button his jacket, each one of the gold buttons slipping into the soft holes easily.

The silver belt buckle slipped into its socket, clicking securely into place. His huge shoulders and wide chest stretched the expensive fabric and swelled beneath it.

One by one, he held each of his medals in his hand, and you knew what was coming next.

“Go on, baby. Shine them up for me," He held the medal out to you and you licked your tongue across it, behaving as if the sharp stars were the soft head of his cock. Each time you finished your work, he allowed you to pin the medal to his chest, making sure each one was straight and true. Then, it began again. With each new medal, Price breathed harder and harder, his voice becoming strained as he praised you,

“Such a good fuckin’ girl. Fuck…”

When you were through with the chest candy, you pinned his spaulders and his sash. The silk felt cool to the touch. It clipped at his waist and you knelt between his knees as he sat, lifting his foot for you to put on his socks. He put his boots on, but waited for you to tie them. You laced his boots with experienced precision and looked up to admire your work.

He smiled down at you, glittering in his uniform, looking like a king,

“Thank you, baby. You take such good care of me. My sweet girl. You have one job left, you know…”

You nodded, blushing. You bent down on the ground and licked the edges of his boots, tasting the leather and smelling the oil on the laces. He pet your head and kissed your cheek when you finished, comforting you,

“You better be ready when I get back, baby. I’m not finished with that gorgeous mouth.”

#call of duty fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mwii #captain john price #john price #cod #captain price #captain price x reader #captain price x you #afab reader #Female reader #x female reader

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regressionschool · 29 days

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You stand at the doorway, watching with a soft grin as Jamie parades around the room, his tail wagging with unmistakable pride. He's clad in bright, colorful pull-ups, pointing at the playful lion designs as if they're medals of honor. "Look, look!" he exclaims, his voice bubbling with excitement, the kind of joy that fills the room like sunshine.

"You've done so well today, Jamie!" you say, clapping your hands gently to acknowledge his small victory. The pride on his face is something else—this is a boy who once delved into the complexities of astrophysics, his mind a map of stars and possibilities. Now, he beams over the simpler things.

He catches your eye and runs over, the crinkle of his pull-up underscoring each hurried step. "Do you think they'll stay dry till nap time?" he asks, his tone hopeful but edged with a playful challenge.

You kneel down to his level, tapping the front of his pull-up lightly. "Hmm, let’s see how they hold up, champ. But knowing how much juice you've had, we might be in for a surprise," you tease, winking.

Jamie giggles, a sound clear and carefree. "It’s like a science experiment, isn't it?" His eyes sparkle with mischief and innocence mingled together.

"Exactly like an experiment," you agree, smiling warmly at his comparison. "And you know what? Every experiment teaches us something new. So, let’s keep discovering, shall we?"

Nodding eagerly, Jamie resumes his parade around the room, his pull-up promising to tell its own tale in due time. As he plays, you watch, content in this moment of simple joys, a world where every little step—every little soggy step—is a milestone.

#ab/dl diaper #diaper stories #ab/dl stories #diaper captions #regression school #ab/dl caption

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misguidedasgardian · 2 months

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I want to steal the bride (5)

5. Steal the bride

MASTERLIST

Summary: Aemond’s realizations make him do even boldest moves, now with his own heart on the line

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x BestFriend!Reader

Warnings: cursing, use of “stereotypes”, I don’t want to say “eating disorder” but I do will say inaccurate methods of dieting, Aemond is a slut, might miss some warnings, but you know what this is about

Wordcount: 3.5 k

Notes: sorry for abandoning this for so long, I want to finish it! You already might now how it ends but I’m hoping to add some original stuff in the next two chapters (and final ones)

“Whoa, Cersei's pretty good”, muttered Addam, after Aemond told him the story about how she tricked him into hiring a dildo saleswoman to appear into your very family friendly bridal shower

“The whole goal here was to convince (Y/N) that I'd grown up and she doesn't know

anything about Cregan, that I'm the right man for her, that did not happen!”, he said, exasperated, as both of them were in the locker rooms, getting ready to play some basketball as they always did

“Yeah, but you're still the maid of honor, right, Aemond?”, he asked, “you're still in the game?”

“I don't know, I think she might have fired me”, he muttered angrily

“Get outta here! How does somebody get fired from being maid of honor?”, laughed Aegon arriving, late as always, a new pair of jordans under his arm

“Tell me about it”, mumbled Aemond, not being able to confide in Addam his newest realization

That he not only wanted to be with you…

He wanted to marry you

“You know what? I got an idea”, said Addam, trying to cheer his friend

“Okay”, muttered Aemond, not convinced

“To prove to (Y/N) that you're the only man for her we have to make you the best maid of honor ever”, he said with certainty

“Right”, he said, not quite convinced

But then Criston showed up, a frown on his face

“I'm at a loss, completely stunned”, he started dramatically, his friends watched him carefully, “my guy couldn't find any dirt on Cregan”, he finalized, “this has never happened before!”, he was so amazed it surprised Aemond and the rest, “this guy's clean”

“I'm glad it happened to me”, said Aemond, as he and his friends walked towards the court

“You know he's got three Guinness World Records?”, said Criston

“Cool”, mumbled Aegon, still suffering his “bro crush”

“For what?”, asked Addam, but he obtained no answer

“He's actually got a Medal of Honor”, continued Criston

“Hey, that's pretty funny because we got the maid of honor right here!”, laughed Aegon

“All right, let's stay focused”, demanded Addam

“Look, the point is, we're not gonna get her off this guy”, sentenced Criston, hoping his friend would forget about you, but this was not his luck

“Yeah, so, we need to not make this about Cregan”, said Addam, “We need to make it about you”, Aemond raised an eyebrow

“How?”

“But you gotta show her that you're growing up finally…”, he warned

“I am”, he said defensively

“... that you're changing”, he continued

“I am. I am changing”, he said, more convinced but angry too, “I'm growing up!”, but his friends didn’t quite believed him

“Good. Then this should be easy for you”, said Adam with a wide smile

Aemond flinched with the noise all the contents of Addam’s box made when they hit his coffee table. There was dozens of magazines, and DVD’S

“These are bridal magazines from 18 different countries, each with a feature article on the duties of being a maid of honor”, he said decisively. Aegon grabbed one, more entertained than the rest of the men, and excited too

“Ãœber Bride”, he pronounced poorly, “high Valyrian? really?”, he mocked

“Yes, they are great at weddings!”, said Adam, “they throw the most amazing, meaningful and pagan weddings of all time, and besides that should be no trouble for Aemond”, he said with a wide smile

But Aemond nodded, determined, nodding purposefully, the gears on his head working full time, he was determined, not only to win you back, but to marry you.

“Nice appetizer there, Addam”, he said softly, looking at his friend, “give me the main course”, he demanded

“Here's the main course”, he said back, raising his eyebrow, looking back into the box.

“What do you got for me? Bring it on”, continued Aemond with his bravado

“My beautiful wife is an A-type personality…. She has to do everything perfectly”

“Sure”, Aemond said, unconvinced

“Love her”, said Addam signaling with his hand, “Hate that about her”, he said with a hiss, “Anyway, she rented this when she was gonna be the maid of honor for her yoga teacher….”

“Uh this is getting good”, said Aegon, rubbing his hands together

“This is the goods”, corrected Addam, grabbing a DVD from the box and showing it to Aemond

“I’ll get the popcorn!”, said Aegon, jumping from the couch and running to the kitchen.

10 minutes later they were all seating in Aemond’s livingroom, Aemond with popcorn and a beer, Addam with one of his own, and Aemond with a notepad and pen, ready to write it all down.

“Hi, I'm Jeyne Poole and I'm just so thrilled you purchased this program, and I'm proud of you because it shows that you're not happy being just an ordinary friend and loved one, no, you and I are going to work together to make you the perfect maid of honor… When we're through, you'll know everything there is to know about dresses, crockery, nuptial etiquette, and pleasing your bride!”

It was a hellish couple of hours for the boys.

But Aemond was determined, Aemond was taking notes, Aemond now knew things he wished he didn’t but he knows them now nonetheless, like color combinations, and schemes, or which textures went with what.

And after agonizing days of studying… he was finally reaedy

“Okay. What's the length of the bridesmaid's dress!?”, Asked Adam, throwing the basket-ball at his friend, Aeond catched it flawlessly

“Can't be longer than the bride's”, h said, easy piecy, he thought, and he passed the ball back. Adam passed it down to Aegon

“What if someone won't be able to attend the wedding?”, he tried his brother

“You gotta send an invitation anyway”, said Aemond, receiving the ball and passing it back to Cole

“Receiving line?”, he tried, Criston passed it back to Aemond

“Receiving line?”, he asked, but when he saw his friend shit-eating grin he chuckled, “If there's a receiving line means I've failed because (Y/N)'s married”, he finished, slamming the ball against the floor.

“Right, it was a trick question”, conceded Criston, and they all found it weird he was paying attention in the first place.

Larys catched the ball that had been bouncing in the middle of the court, he threw it to Aemond who didn’t catch since he wasn’t looking at him, he whined rubbing his arm where the ball hit

“Who was the runner-up MVP, 1974?”, he asked, the four friends looked back at him

“No, hey, these questions all have to do with Aemond being the best maid of honor he can be”, said Adam

“All right. I-I-I thought we were just asking, like, questions”, said Larys

“Go sit down” demanded Aemond

“Alright”, he said nodding enthusiastically, and went and did as they told him to

“Basic duties of the maid of honor?”, demanded Adam

“Manage the bridesmaids, hold the ring, support the bride”, said Aemond quickly

“Basic duties as you as the maid of honor?”, tried Aegon, grabbing his brother by the shoulders and shook him

“Show (Y/N) that I've matured, that I can take care of my responsibilities fully and that I need to destroy the wedding from within”, he said decesively

“What happens if you fail at that task?”, asked Criston

“Cregan gets her”, said Aemond

“So… What are we gonna do?”, asked

“Steal the bride”, he said in a whisper

“DIDN’T HEAR YA”, Said Adam firmly, “What are we gonna do!?”

“Steal the bride”, he said louder and firmer

“WHAT ARE WE GONNA DO!?”, asked Aegon excitedly

“Steal the bride!”, shouted Aemond

“STEAL THE BRIDE!”, everybody shouted

“You know, you didn't have to clear your whole day to do all this”, you said excitedly, wrapping your arm against his, feeling a bit guilty of wrinkling his crisp suit, but he didn’t seemed to mind as he always did, when he smiled down at you, your best friend

“Are you kidding? Of course I did”, he said lightly, “The perfect maid of honor is with his bride every step of the way”

“His bride uh? wow!”, you said excitedly, “A changed man!”, you admired, you knew dedicated Aemond, mainly when he was dedicated to hunt women or his job, but… it was great to see it invoked because of you

“I am, indeed, a changed man, because of you”, you passed that as sarcasm, but you didn’t mind because despite what you interpret, you were so happy to have him by your side, all motivated to help you

You entered the biggest and fancier apartment store in all of King’s Landing, five floors of clothes, bed clothes, fancy plates, everything for your house, you had so many things to pick, your wedding gifts list and some other things you wanted to buy for your new home and for the wedding day itself.

“I don't even know where to begin!”, you said excitedly, “should we begin by tagging my wishlist? my mom said she was going to gift me the china collection, but there are so many, I don’t know which one to pick”, you said softly.

He looked over the table where they exhibited all the models, and he was almost shocked he knew exactly what to do, what to say to you, he grabbed two beautiful plates with Valyrian designs on the edges of the plates

“When choosing your china patterns you need to think about what type of entertainment you will do, what sort of... foods you wanna cook”, he said, you were taken completely aback by his statement, “Ah, here, look. Now, don't be afraid to mix and match”, now even more so, specially when he started throwing the plates in the air, even more shocked when he caught them, and started juggling them, he even grabbed a third one, “It's important, even with different styles and textures…”, he said, you placed a hand in your mouth to keep yourself from saying something out loud and snitched to a clerc, “What you wanna do is stir up the table…”, he said, looking at you excitedly, he catched all three of the plates, “Make it come alive with color and finesse”, he said, placing one on top of each other by size, “That is the goal”, he said, you noticed that women had gathered around you, listened to his words, “Also, at the end of the day, you will find… connections”, he said, placing a perfectly matchable bowl at the top, and when you looked, you realized, they were all different, but together they looked beautiful.

“Thank you very much!”, he even took a bow when even an employee of the store started applauding him. You did too, as you were so excited, Aemond looked back at you and nodded

“Let's go… If you think I'm good with plates, wait till you see what I do with linens”, he said, weirdly proud of himself. You went up a floor and then another, and then you came across something waaaaay more interested then linens

Underwear

One you needed for your wedding night.

“Lingerie, perfect!”, you said, excited.

“What about the linens?”, Asked Aemond, as he seemed truly lost

“You'll be able to help me pick up something for the wedding night”, you explained, he shook his head

“No”, he denied you even with his hands, “Are you crazy?”, you were fearful of it being weird, but then you thought he was the best person for the job

“You're the perfect person for this job!”, you said simply, “Who's taken off more lingerie than you? Let's put your whoring to good use”, and you dragged him into the “forbidden” section

“Good point”, he grunted. Even though he wanted nothing else but to see you in your underwear, he really didn’t want this to be the context in which he was right now…

He was grabbing onto his knees for dear life, as he was waiting for you to finish putting on some lingerie… for your future husband, he looked down to his crotch

“Behave, you hear me?”, he demanded. He then looked back at the moving curtain, the one you were behind, “So, how did it go with the Northerner Grand Council?”, he asked. He had to have his head in the game, and starting to look for weak spots

“Great. Cregan got them to approve everything!”, you said excitedly

“Great!”, DAMN IT, he thought

“So, I gotta tell you, I know this is gonna sound funny but, um, I have to thank you….”, you heard him said, not watching his face got you a bit bold as you tried on the tights

“For what?”, you asked

“Well, for asking me to be your maid of honor”, that made you stop your movements, “Yeah. I-I know this is gonna sound crazy but... you've really opened my eyes to the whole idea of marriage”, that shocked even more than the plate juggling

“Right”, you mocked

“No, seriously”, he said

“Have you met someone, Aemond?”, you asked then, entertained, although, you felt something you didn’t quite like, if he was serious

“No”, he said softly, and that made you feel better

“Well, then how can you be serious?”, you asked

“I don't know. I just… I don't know”, you finally finished putting your leather get up on, and you got out of the dressing space, moving the curtain theatrically

“What do you think? Think Cregan will like it?”, you asked, you even had a small whip in your hand. But Aemond’s face… you were feeling so confident, getting completely out of your comfort zone with this, and he seemed completely horrified

“No”, he said quickly, looking straight at you, “NO”

“No?”, you asked

“It's just…”, he said quickly, now looking away

“What?”, you sked, looking down at yourself, you knew you didn’t have a perfect body… but he was acting like….

“It's cute”, he said, recomposing himself

"Cute"? I don't wanna look cute on my wedding night!”, you said, looking down at yourself again, what was wrong with this lacey outfit?, you looked back at Aemond and he was giving you a long coat

“Just put this on”, he said quickly, “Cover yourself up”

“Oh, hey. That's my coat!”, said the other women who was in the other dressing room

“Here, let me get you in a cab”, he said, placing his hand on the small of your back, leading you out of the store

“I can't believe this is my last day in King’s Landing”, you said softly, looking around at all the buildings, you took a deep breath, trying to memorize the… frankly… shitty smell, but to you it smell like home

“What are you talking about?”, asked Aemond, you looked at him with a smile, although he looked pretty terrified

“I've been meaning to tell you, Aemond”, you started softly, “When I leave tomorrow… I'm not coming back”, you said softly, “I've decided to move to Winterfell, to be with Cregan”

“You're leaving King’s Landing?”, he asked, really surprised

“I am”, you said, more firmly, he had this tendency of making you take back some of your decisions, but this, was something you were sure of, “It's exciting, you know, and it makes sense”, you said, “we are going to get married, and he can’t move here, he's next in line to take over the family business and...It's a whole new chapter”, you said quickly, he only looked down the street, with an uncrackable look on his handsome face, “You were amazing today, you know that?”, you said lightly, hoping to get him out of his mind. He shook his head, fixing his jacket, a smile returning to his face, although he looked constipated

“Oh, yeah?”, he asked, his voice returning to him

“Yeah”, you said nodding enthusiastically, “I had no idea you could juggle like that”

“Yeah, well…”, he said, with a proud smile

“I mean, women, yes, china, no”, you continued, he scratched the back of his neck

“Yeah, I know”, he said with his trademarked smirk,

“You're always amazing”, you admitted, “but today you were even more so”, he looked at you with a soft smile, a rarity

You were already on the street, and you tried to signal a cab to pull over and take you

“I'll see you in Winterfell soon, okay?”, you said excitedly, as one stopped and you had to say your goodbyes

“Yeah, I'll see you over there”, he muttered, faking a smile, you looked at him with your beautiful eyes, and smiled at him the way you always used to

“I…”, you started, but you stopped yourself, “I’ll miss you”, you said instead

Aemond’s smile disappeared as you got up in the cab

You didn’t tell him that you loved him like you always did…

As he saw the cab driving away, a hand went to his chest, where an aching pain had him struggling to breathe, he couldn’t breathe

“Hey, are you alright?”, someone asked him, grabbing him by his shoulder

“thank you for picking me up from the hospital”, Aemond muttered as he left his coat on the entrance of his grandfather’s flat.

“Of course son”, muttered Otto, grabbing Aemond on his shoulder reassuringly, “panick attack, uh? that’s new”

“It had never happened to me before”, he whispered, rubbing his temple, “I thought I was having a heart attack”

“Not quite…”, said Otto, serving his grandson a scotch

“I don’t even know why…”

“I think it’s pretty obvious isn’t it?”, he tried, Aemond looked back at his father figure

“She is marrying someone else”, he admitted, “I've never felt like this before. So hopeless”, he admitted, sitting on one of the designer chairs in the living room, overlooking King’s Landing

“So, tell me again why you agreed to be the maid of honor”, he passed the glass to him, and he took a short si[

“Ah, to be with her”, he said simply, “to make her happy, and to figure out some way to get her off of him”, he admitted shamelessly, he swirl the caramel looking liquor on his gatsby cut glass, “maybe that was all wrong, maybe he's better for her than me”, he admitted, making Otto chuckle, “He's Northerner, he can dunk, he's perfect”

“Nobody's perfect”, he said simply, taking a sip of his own, once he downed the liquid he took the glass in front of his face to look at it better, “Although, I tell you, this whisky comes damn close”.

“It was a gift from Cregan… He made it”, said Aemond downing his own

“Damn he IS good”, said Otto. Aemond sighed loudly, leaving the glass on the side table and rubbing his face with his hands. “I can't go. I can't watch (Y/N) marry this guy, she's moving to Winterfell, I've lost her already”, he lamented, he was throwing his own petty party and he was going to enjoy it. Otto just stopped his movements and looked at him, chuckling again, raising his eyebrows

“Bullshit”, he said, sitting on the other available leather chair

“If you love something, set it free, right?”, muttered Aemond, finally looking at him

“Said by a pussy and used by pussies ever since”, he answered, sipping his drink

“Ah come on, what about Lys? Bogie puts her on the ship”, he said

“Pussy”, Otto said simply, smiling at his grandson

“Bogie's a pussy?”, Aemond said, not believing him

“Big pussy”, he confirmed, “You know, I've only truly been in love once….”, he said, “The most amazing woman in the world, she was my best friend. But I was young, stupid, and I messed it up”, Aemond looked at him wide eye, “my great list of mistakes, that was the greatest”

“Who was it?”, he asked

“Alyrie”, he said simply, “your grandmother, she was the love of my life, she gave me two beautiful children, your mother and uncle, but I preferred to go higher on the ladder of my company instead of watching over and taking care of my family, when I realized what I had done, it was too late, I had lost her…”, a sad silence was placed before the both of them, “By the way, uh, I'm getting another divorce”

“Oh, pop”, whined Aemond, not shocked at all though

“I will not let what happen to me happen to you too, You will go to that fucking wedding, you are going to stop her from making the worst mistake of her life, and you are going to bring her home, you hear me?”, Aemond nodded, in a decisive manner, his hands tingling with excitement, “Go and get her, you pussy”, Otto said slapping his shoulder

post chapter notes: I have to say it I'M SO SORRY, but I love this movie and I want to finish this, sorry for abandoning it, but I'm here to win it! jeje

TAGLIST!

@snh96 @sagelovesreading @toodlesxcuddles @ammo23 @bananzaa @ttkttt @at-a-rax-ia @n4tforlife @spn-obession

#misguidedmade #aemond targaryen #made of honor #maid of honor #hbo house of the dragon #house of the dragon #cregan stark #aemond targaryen x reader #cregan stark x reader #movie adaptation

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heynowhaley · 2 months

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GOOD MORNING TO MY BEST FRIENDS 4-time 2024 olympic medalist simone biles, 3-time 2024 olympic medalist suni lee, 2-time 2024 olympic medalist jordan chiles, 2-time 2024 olympic medalist jade carey, and first time olympic medalist hezly rivera!!! special shoutout to my other besties rebeca andradre and kaylia nemour, gold looks SO GOOD ON THEM. quick poll, who else cried when jordan got the bronze for floor?? sorry @ romania, u were still a superstar but that routine is gonna be in my dreams for the rest of forever.

the whole olympics has made me a giant baby, i s2g i'm crying every day. the badminton player who won gold and then got proposed to by her fellow badminton player boyfriend?? the men's team gymnastics team medaling for the first time in 16 YEARS?? julien alfred taking home st. lucia's first ever medal AND IT'S BRIGHT AND BEAUTIFUL GOLD, BABY!!!! honorable mention to the japanese men's volleyball team playing the haikyu theme song. people are great, i love u all, i'm so happy to exist. let's do this again in 4 years. tell me the other highlights i missed bc my brain is gonna explode.

#psustarter #//this is the most coherent thing she has ever said #//i'm queueing this to post in the morning so if there are any starters not replied to by her it's because they don't exist rn <3

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skyeslittlecorner · 8 months

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IT'S TIME TO CELEBRATE! KING OF BABYGIRLS IS CHOSEN!

Let me contribute to this competition. As one of the people whose brain was rotten and taken over, let me be the (self-proclaimed) herald of victory.

First, a little kiss for Zagan, Sitri and Foras just because I’m biased and want to kiss my personal babygirls. Also, a huge kiss and a basket of delicacies served by the maids for Amon, and a salute to his nation. We carried out your will, my lord.

Now it's time to recognize everyone who deserves it! After hard battles and bloody fights, let's meet our winners.

Paimon stans, it was an honor to fight with you. Therefore, despite the lack of a podium, you deserve to be honorably mentioned.

Special mention - Paimon

"4th place? What a shaaaame." Paimon leaned in when you said you wanted to put an honorary sticker on his horn. "I'd rather keep it foreeever. Now I have to be caaareful when I wash my haaair! Maybe you can heeelp meee~"

It is true that the inhabitants of Hades are immortally loyal to their beautiful king. No wonder he is on the podium with us.

3th place - Leviathan

You give him a medal, definitely not saying he took third place, unless you want to hang from the ceiling and watch other competitors being hunted down by unspeakable horrors. “You called me what? What a ridiculous idea.” But obviously he likes it and hopes that in addition to a medal, the winner will also receive a kiss. At least.

One of the favorites from the very beginning. Deservedly, Eligos, one of the cutest devils, takes second place.

2nd place - Eligos

“Ohh, only second place?” You almost can't stand his eyes of a kicked kitten, so you gently pat his head and stroke soft hairs. His mood immediately improves, and he catches your hand with a sweet, mischievous smile. "Come on, you have to reward me now." A whole day of cuddles, shopping, eating and your undivided attention awaits!

And, at last. Kneels down. Allow me to pay tribute to our lord and ruler, the one and only sitting on the throne.

1st place - Andrealphus

You caught him off guard. He was playing with his phone, lying in bed, long hair untied and spread picturesquely on the sheets, T-shirt lifted over a chiseled stomach. You rarely saw this beautiful, lazy side of him, and almost forgot what you came for. “I have a surprise for you, my king.” He turned to you. Not that he has to, because he couldn't see you anyway, and yet always tried to face you. “Me?” “Let me serve you, as you shall sit on your throne.” He raised an eyebrow in amusement and got up, but didn’t ask. Silky hair got tangled in the horns, so you parted it gently and placed on his back. Each time you scratched him a little harder. First between the shoulders, then you ran your fingers over the muscles that you couldn't see through the material, but felt under your palm. "We had a little competition." You finally sat down on his lap so he could touch your face, feel your smile under his fingers. “Who among you, devil nobles and kings, is the greatest babygirl. It was a vote, several rounds, like a full-fledged cup. Hundreds of people took part!” “Sounds like fun.” “And you won.” His facial expression didn't change for a bit. “I what?” “You won! We voted and cheered and were with you every round. Congratulations!” You kissed him, but he needed another second to process what he heard. His eyes widened, and his fingers twitched on your face. He cupped your cheeks, stroking your lips and eyes with his thumbs, checking to see if you were joking. “How? You said it was hundreds of people. We have never met.” “But they know you in their own way. You're intelligent, kind and gentle… and you know what? Let's let all those who love you have their say. ” You started reading comments, hashtags, and all the happy nonsense you produced during this time. At first, he couldn't believe it, but you wouldn't lie to him. He hugged you tightly as you scrolled through Tumblr. You were having such a great time, and he felt the warmth spreading more and more inside him. So many people. So many kind words. He, who never had family nor friends, who was not used to closeness, always lonely, always depressed, listened to so many praises and admiration about himself. He was grateful that you included him in the vote. Victory? He would never have thought of it. So many people were with him. So many people loved him. He never knew them, never would, but he wanted to say thanks, to touch and know their faces, to hug each and any of them. All the emotions bottled inside felt down with tears of joy. “I would like to repay all of you somehow.” His voice became hoarse with emotions. Another kiss landed on his lips, as you brushed away long hair that had fallen onto his handsome face. “Do not even think about it. It's our way of saying thank you for who you are. And that's all we want you to do for us. Just be, and be yourself.”

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb andrealphus #whb paimon #whb leviathan #whb eligos #whb most babygirl polls #yes I had it prepared beforehand and you see it only because Andrea won #long live the king!#it was so fun tho op had such a great idea

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katakosmos · 2 months

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i love your evan SO MUCH. in my mind he’s become his own fun little destructive entity and i need him. badly. i do fear he may be a gym bro…which brings me to my question. what are the gang doing at the olympics (basically, which of them is stephen and which of them is the muffin man. and why.) LOVE!

thank you 🥰 i love my evan too 🥰 probably cause i know he could destroy me 🥰

(yes he'd be a gym bro)

btw. there are too many sports in the olympics for me to even remotely know what they consist of, so i won't get into things that are too strange (and so i don't know if i'll be able to give all the characters a sport 😭)

james for me is a world pole vault champion. i think the reason he loves quidditch is because he loves flying, not kicking a ball into three circles. so no football for him. in a fic that i started writing (but, obviously, never finished) lily and james met on an athletics field cause lily practiced hammer throw. in a domestic context, james would reach high shelves while lily assembles furniture and lifts the sofa when james loses something underneath it. they go to the olympics together and kiss from the stands.

(honorable mention to that french guy who knocked over the pole with his dick. james coded.)

sirius fencing makes sense, and he's so good at it that you can't take your eyes off him. sirius' fencing is a declaration of love, it hypnotizes you, it moves you. it's not an equal fight: there's no chance, he has to win because he brings fencing to a poetic and emotional level. he plays a whole different sport

...but i think he'd hate sweating under his mask and getting his hair greasy. LMAO.

peter fits in rugby but personally i think he would slay in a gymnastics competition: he does perfect floor routines. before a competition he needs silence and concentration, so he side-eyes anyone who speaks to him. he's so scary that everyone's afraid of him.

dorcas practices martial arts, and i can see her doing kung fu, which is very choreographic and acrobatic. but unfortunately, kung fu is not in the olympics and therefore... she would probably do gymnastics too. but mhmmmmm, it's not really her vibe.

mary runs. no questions and no explanations. and she wins the gold medal with thick eyelashes and a 5cm long set of nails. she can also run on heels. this woman is not to be underestimated.

barty is a shooter. and he absolutely loves to terrify people by saying he has a gun. he's precise, he has a lot of fun and he thinks his professional glasses are very, very cool. buttt, when he doesn't have a clear advantage he gets angry and starts losing, so he never won a medal. he's famous for his little smirk every time he hits the bullseye, and people think he's very hot.

marlene would either do the best known sport in the world (football) or the most unknown one (underwater hockey). so let's put them together: water polo. if i'm honest though marlene doesn't have a personality in my head so i don't know 😭

pandora maybe diving? she's very good at it but she always comes second behind the chinese athlete, and this makes her furious. she smiles at her friendly when in reality she wants to drown her.

now remus, regulus and evan... but i think regulus would compete in figure ice skating (he is very graceful but also sharp and fast), and evan would be a hockey player (for obvious reasons), but these are winter olympics' sports.

remus on the other hand, i have no idea what sport he could do. i'd love to see him play tennis, but it's too tiring. he wants something messy, fast and where he doesn't have to move too much. if there was a sport like this he'd be world champion, but he's probably still looking for it. for now he has to settle for long jump (james forced him to try but he hates it).

now... i have a personal beef with tiktok because of that american guy like tell me if you hate me ok. but stephen is 100000% xenophilius like: he sleeps for all the competition, completely unaware of what anxiety is, then he wakes up to do just one thing and does it perfectly. this is xeno right here.

but i have no idea which of them could be the muffin man.

#this took me too long #and i'm not even satisfied #any ideas for marlene and pandora?#i'm tired #james potter #sirius black #lily evans #peter pettigrew #remus lupin #marlene mckinnon #mary mcdonald #dorcas meadowes #barty crouch jr #evan rosier #pandora rosier #regulus black #xenophilius lovegood #olympics

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controlvariable · 3 months

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Zero's medal, New Mecca's origins, and near-fatal head trauma

Spoilers for all of Katana ZERO ahead. if you haven't played it already, do that now, I'm dead serious when I say it's one of the greatest games of all time.

When I first decided I'd post meta about this game, honestly, this isn't the one I expected to start with. Hey, sometimes inspiration hits, and...

I'm joking. That's a different rant entirely. (yoshiP voice) please look forward to it. I think the best place to start with this one is New Mecca itself, and what that name entails. It's no secret that KZ takes large inspiration from both Judaism and Islam, the latter of which is more relevant today.

The implications of a literal new Mecca are both fascinating and out of my wheelhouse. I encourage any Muslims, who certainly know more about it than me, to elaborate. As it stands, I'm going to leave it at these few screenshots.

The Psychiatrist:

Leon von Alvensleben:

And of course, Headhunter:

This really isn't the main point of this rant, but it's related enough that I feel justified in mentioning it. Now, let's see Zero's service medal.

Thanks to the nature of KZ as a pixel-art game, we don't have much to work with here. It's gold with a purple ribbon, that's the most we're gonna get.

During the scene at the bar, we have an NPC put a name to it, and this name is what kickstarted the entire post.

A Distinguished Service Crescent. This, to my knowledge, is not a real medal in any country. That makes sense, considering, to my knowledge... New Mecca isn't real. (If it was, we'd have bigger problems on our hands.) This name did remind me of the real-life medal known as the Distinguished Service Cross, which has three meanings and appearances between countries.

To the left, the USA's medal, which is the second highest military decoration just behind their Medal of Honor. The center, Australia's medal, the highest of their Distinguished Service awards. The right, the United Kingdom's medal, which is only awarded for service at sea.

But none of these look like Zero's medal, do they? Let's take a look at Distinguished Service Medals instead, same order as above.

No dice. At this point what I'm about to say is going to surprise absolutely nobody, but the only real-life lookalike I can think of is the USA's Purple Heart.

Now, this sounds absolutely nothing like the Distinguished Service Crescent the NPC mentions, but let's account for 1. artistic liberty, 2. multiple inspirations, and 3. the fact that he might've been wrong. (It's not as if KZ has the most reliable narrators in the first place.)

Part of the reason it might be named as such in game is to draw the direct comparison to our real world medals, named after the cross. Why has it been replaced with a crescent, though? Recall the name of New Mecca, and how the crescent has long been a symbol of of Islam.

Most Americans know what a Purple Heart is given for: being wounded or killed by an enemy combatant in the line of duty. Given that Zero is still alive to receive it, only the former is important. Things are starting to come together.

During the final scene with the Psychiatrist, he entirely ignores you if you ask if the medal is real. At first, I assumed this could be Zero coming to doubt everything he's been told, which is reasonable. Then, once I realized the medal is based off of a Purple Heart, I thought it was real after all.

Finally, I realized just how much the Psychiatrist had Zero's life under control. Zero knows what this medal means, what it implies, and the whole course of the game is discovering how much of what he believed to be innate is caused by his medicine.

Chronos, the drug that he's been forbidden from learning about at every turn, that he's been given non-answers about this whole time, that gives him the power of a god. It's not so unreasonable to assume the medal was used to attribute Zero's memory loss to a head injury, as opposed to the truth of it being yet another side effect.

It's worth noting which parts of the screenshots provided are rendered in purple, and the fact that NULL itself is written in the same color. More on the color usage of KZ later.

If you made it this far, thanks for reading the deranged ramblings of a madman. Lord knows I'm not done talking about this game.

Thanks to @chemicalbrew for encouraging my madness, Muffins (no tumblr) for cooking this up with me, @dynal for listening, and everyone in The Apartment, Nepenthe, and Paradox of Lucidity for cheering me on.

#katana zero #kz #meta #op #reblogs very appreciated i spent 3 hours writing this and much longer falling down rabbit holes #pin

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