#luis did such a good job

[reddlesisters]

On my 3rd EXU Calamity rewatch of this year

[johndonneswife]

[faejilly]

I just wanted to let you know, I stumbled across your posts after playing Affairs of the Court for the first time in years, and I too have fallen head over heels for Luis!!! My entire heart!!! Anyways, I just wanted to flail in your inbox about him, and your walkthroughs were very helpful for getting the ending I wanted! 😘❤️

YAY! I... do not know how to organize my brain for outside comprehension, so I'm always delighted when a walkthrough/guide thing is actually useful. (Probably also because I am very bad at seeing behind the curtain re: game mechanics, like, I screw up my stats in every game ever because I don't think the line means what the game thinks it means.)

It is such a good time, I do still adore Luis. 😍

[pandaspwnz]

just finished rewatching EXU: Calamity and once again cried so much. It really is one of the most masterful stories I've ever seen/heard, and absolutely the best actual play series ever done, bar none. I'm in such awe of Brennan's dm'ing skills, I adore Marisha's beautiful showing of emotions, I love seeing how much Sam and Travis love their children via how much they feel for these fictional ones, Luis' portrayal of Zerxus was so heartfelt and grounded, Lou always brings his whole soul into what he does and this was no exception, and Aabria being willing to make the difficult choices and how she shows Laerryn's dedication is just. Ugh. chefs kiss. Not to mention the group dynamics, the Aabria-Travis hype man squad, the Marisha-Lou/Marisha-Luis grabby shenanigans, how Sam and Aabria play the perfect divorcees, they're all just so fantastic and did such a good job, etc etc. I truly love Calamity so much, I can't believe it's a real show, I can't believe how fucking GOOD it is. Every single one of those people brought their A-game, but I really do especially have to call out Brennan Lee Mulligan. The way that man portrays people and humanity, how even in the end of things he speaks of the importance of hope, how he narrates and weaves the most beautiful tales and makes it so alive and tangible, how he knows exactly when to drop in some comedy amidst tragedy without detracting from it... he's simply fantastic. I'm in awe of them all!!

[vintagegeekculture]

"The Ayla Descent Theory" of Mary Sues

"Children of the Earth," Luis Royo.

After the success of Jean M. Auel's stone age novel Clan of the Cave Bear, there was a very lengthy trend in the publishing world of stone age adventure novels aimed at women that lasted for a decade and only really fizzled out in the early 2000s. After all, "Ayla," the name of the main character of these books, was one of the top baby names of 1987.

The target audience for these books were weird midwestern aunts....you know, the Mists of Avalon and the Mercedes Lackey/Valdemar audience. Therefore, the Clan of the Cave Bear imitators also featured things of interest to the weird aunt audience: Scotland, redhaired women with sharp tongues, commanding wolves, Ireland, Feminism, riding herds of wild horses bareback in scenic locations, Wicca, matriarchial religions, swimming with dolphins....but above all else, American Indians (a culture this audience finds interesting, as anyone who has seen the home decor of a typical weird midwestern aunt can attest), with many novels set in Ice Age America, like Children of the Dawn, Reindeer Moon and the First Americans. Decades later, this audience would form the core fandom for Game of Thrones, and the character of Khaleesi Targaryen in particular.

These books almost assuredly still have a place of honor on the book shelf of the weirdest woman at your job.

Nearly all of these imitators have two of Clan of the Cave Bear's defining traits: 1) a supremely beautiful, usually blonde athletic and statuesque main character over 5'11" who does not realize that she is so beautiful and desirable, who is good at a variety of different skills and is friendly with animals like hawks, dolphins, or horses, and 2) a love triangle between this aforementioned blond but innocent Venus and two bodybuilder muscular he-men cave hunks, one of whom is a blonde guy with long rock star hair (it was the 80s), and the other being a buff black guy with dreadlocks (or otherwise ethnic in some way).

The heroine usually picks the blonde guy in the end, but the audience usually picks the ethnic guy.

In the late 90s and early 2000s, in the broader culture of fandom, it was fashionable to dump on "Mary Sues" (indulgent wish-fulfillment author personas in fanfiction) and the people who wrote them. Accusations of creating a Mary Sue approached a kind of hysteria. Even at the time, when everyone else was getting swept up in this, I thought that getting mad about aunties writing fanfiction showed a loss of perspective, and was a bit silly. Thankfully, we've benefitted from moral evolution: the consensus in fandom now is that writing aspirational characters is a harmless activity that tests a young writer's creative muscles, like the half-Vulcan pretty new ensign on the Enterprise that Kirk and Spock both fall in love with, or a new archer girl who Legolas falls in love with joining the Fellowship. This hate walked hand in hand with insecurities, in the exact same way that people worried about their appearance or concerned with their weight are often cruel to fat people, and there were frequent tests if this or that character in your writing was a Mary Sue.

There was a running joke in this 2000s culture of anti-self insertion called the "Ayla Descent Theory of Mary Sues." The joke was that Mary Sues came into existence because Ayla, the beautiful, athletic heroine of the Clan of the Cave Bear novels, was the ancestor of their entire lineage, as the first known Mary Sue to ever exist in the historical record, described as being a statuesque blonde who did everything right and was always at the center of love triangles, and who changed human history.

According to the running joke, Mary Sues everywhere were descended from Ayla from Clan of the Cave Bear, and she was the first to exist, and Ayla was the explanation of where all the Enterprise's new ensigns main characters fall in love with come from.

[galaxy-fleur]

Replaying RE4R, and I am once again thinking of how Leon just straight up murders a guy the moment he attacks. Like yeah, sure, he lunged at him with a weapon, there is a bloody badge of an officer, things are sketchy to say the least, but still. It all happens so fast, I doubt he actually had the time to fully put two and two together quite yet.

And you can't tell me that Leon, a trained agent, just overestimated the power of his kick on accident. That ↓

Was a pretty much deliberate kick. What's interesting is that in the OG RE4, he at least tells the ganado to freeze a good couple of times (or maybe once, I don't remember the specifics, but my point still stands) before actually proceeding to harm him. Remake Leon, meanwhile... just breaks his neck without a second thought.

And his reaction right after makes it... pretty obvious, honestly.

There is no strong reaction there to offing an old man in his home. Now, granted, he hears a scream right after, so it's not like he has much time to stand and ponder over what happened! But the only thing he says right after is: 'This is not good.' And, yeah, true, but we do know Leon is capable of expressing some level of distress over something he finds disturbing, and he proceeds to do that literally a few minutes later once you start exploring the village. So really, it's an interesting scene and a very intriguing way of introducing this hardened version of Leon we'll be playing as.

I wouldn't be thinking about this as much if not for the circumstances surrounding it. Not like Leon is aware that this man is infected with anything. Up until the moment he gets back up, he could be just some disturbed, paranoid old man or something. And he did just walk into someone's house. He's an intruder here, really. But the moment danger presents itself, he eliminates the threat without a second thought.

I think it speaks volumes of the past 6 years that passed for him, and how they shaped him. We don't know much of Leon's job: what it entails exactly, what kind of work he does on the daily, how the entire structure operates. And before the events of RE4, it's not like he was a well-known agent, if I remember correctly. It's his successful rescue of Ashley that got him high in the ranks. His status as a Racoon City survivor didn't do that. Throughout RE4R, we see him regain his humanity through the connections with other characters, going from the cold, robotic way he caries himself at the start of the game, to the determined, emotionally-invested man we later see carrying Ashley to Luis' laboratory.

It's very neat to think about! And while we all love Leon for his kind heart and his drive to save innocent lives, he is more than capable of violence, and that's an aspect of him I wish was talked about more. That neck break was definitely not the first one for him, just saying.

[tarjapearce]

you got me thinking how delicious ranchero Miguel is ((and he is 🐺)) going back again to him literally training without a shirt…showing the aftermath of your night’s intimacy on his skin and I mean scratch marks on both his arms and back….👁️👁️

Tell me he won’t show that off to tease you 😭

Oh he would. 👀

He would wake up at crisp five am, his room although in the barn, would be properly conditioned with everything he needed. The least your parents could do was to give him a proper place since his job in the farm the first few weeks convinced them enough to stay.

Miguel slicked his hair back, removing the front bangs from his face as he looked in the mirror. He smirked at the scratches on his arms, his torso, and when he turned around, he saw some more littering the top of his back.

The sudden memory of him being buried womb-deep in you, made the hairs on his arms to rise. They were his battle scars, and of course would flaunt them off. He took a shower, got ready and got himself to work.

------

The blazing sun of mid day, made him remove his shirt. Sweat rolled down his back, the ripples of his muscle contracting and expanding as he shoveled Agustín food in his container.

The horse took a bit of work to manage, almost throwing him out the saddle at first, but slowly, Miguel earned his trust. It was the only time your father had actually acted out of his stuck up and despective persona to congratulate him. He had gotten Agustín as a gift from another farmer. Your father was a well known man in the community.

Miguel then moved to groom him. Soft bristle brushes, a bit of oils for the horse hair, multiple vitamin caplets and of course a new pair of shoes for Agustín front legs. He had taken a like to the horse, even had developed a distinct call just for him.

Another helper under his tutoring approached him with fresh hay for Luis, your horse, he couldn't help but notice the marks on his skin.

"Had a good night, boss?"

He chuckled and prepare the colt's bottle of milk.

"Este chamaco..." (This kid...) he'd mumble.

"I mean, if the Mrs. saw you like that she'd be horrified."

"Cuando no." (As usual) He tittered at the thought, that just evolved into an idea.

"Get Joaquín more hay, if he still refuses to eat, tell the upper boss." He threw Agustín's saddle over his shoulder and prepared him for another training session.

By this hour you and your mother would be awake and enjoying a bit of a brunch in the porch. After grooming and treating Agustín, he put the saddle on him, and rode him to stretch his legs. To his not surprise your mother was there, rambling about how some of your friends looked like they had already had intercourses.

The word made you giggle and you just earned another swat with her rolled newspaper.

He adored your laugh, before your mother could shoo him away, he tipped his hat and made a blow kissing gesture your way. You couldn't help but beam bashfully at him. The scratches of your previous night made your legs to cross in instinct. His torso bounced softly with every gallop Agustín did.

"How shameless. Parading his... unholy doings before us."

"It's awfully hot, mom. Might as well swimm a bit on the pool."

"Still, we have rules in this house, (Name)." She huffed and you rolled your eyes.

"I don't know how your father can allow him do such... things under our home! What would people say if they saw a tramp walking out from the bsrn! Oh Jesus Lord forbids it. We would be the talk of town. He should take in consideration your father's job as a head of the church."

------

After a few hours of hearing your mother's rambling and she taking her usual evening stroll with her friends, you'd sneak out in the barn, and hug him from behind.

"You made my mom flustered and angry" You giggled as he spun you around and kissed you deeply.

"Was she pissed?"

"Oh very. Called you inmoral." He smirked and bit your bottom lip, your hands raked on his head, putting his hat on your head.

"Then, I love to do inmoral things to you, chula." You giggled as he made you straddle his lap, kissing you deeper.

"That makes us two"

"Is she out?" You nodded and smirked with a teasing grind.

"Wanna do unholy things in the meantime?" He whispered in your ear with a tempting smile. Of course you'd do. Always.

[postersofleon]

RE4 leon x reader. i'm trying to get out of my writer's block, so yeah. infected!leon and infected!reader but no smut. just implied friends or probably more

"Oh, my god," you grabbed your head, "Leon..." A small growl was at the end of your sentence. Everything you saw was almost completely blurry thanks to that dick ass creature who threw up a sort of acid. Despite constantly repeating it, you still didn't understand that the people in this village had bug DNA in them. Your mind wanted to make a list of all the probably insects they were, but you clutched your face and growled even louder. "Fuck." You closed your eyes and your knees gave out into the ground.

Leon hurried to your side, "I'm here. I'm here." His hand was on your shoulder to assure your safety. His other hand gently cleaned away the spit with a rag, the slime was still around your nose and cheeks, but at least it didn't burn anymore. "Thanks." You tried to look at Leon, but he still looked a bit blurry however you could spot his awkward smile. Your eyes narrowed a bit, "Thank you, Leon." You whispered softly. Leon pushed off his side bangs before properly sitting down beside you.

It was just a tiny break from this hell.

Luis just died in your arms thanks to your Major whom you trusted with your entire heart. The Major that caught you how to heal a fellow comrade. Krauser didn't like you like he liked Leon. That stung more than you would like. You liked the praise and you liked the harsh training. You wanted to see that you were worth it and just a lousy weak girl.

But in the end, you were a lousy girl.

You allowed yourself and Leon to get infected. You allowed Luis to die. You were a secondary character in Leon's life story because Krauser didn't even mention you. You weren't Leon. Now, thinking about it, you didn't know why Leon wasn't sent alone because God knew he could've survived without a person covering him from above or her stupid patching abilities.

You were just a girl who was suppose to die. A girl wasn't allowed to train beside Leon.

You were nothing.

Leon slowly looked at you, "Hey, are you okay?" He asked gently. He was treating you like a wounded animal, you wish you could be offended by it, but you knew if he didn't speak to you in that tone. You would think of running off or making an excuse on running off. But all that question made was you slump over.

"I'm tired." You mumbled. "I'm tired of dealing with merchant. I'm tired of chasing around Ashley. I'm so fucking tired." You hugged your legs against your chest. Leon nodded his head, "I can see why." He answered in that same tone of yours.

A small flashback appeared in your mind, you remembered how Leon came back from Krauser's training with cuts and a sore body. That same bitterness came into mind once again. Burning your skull with your useless self.

He has a true reason to be tried while all you had was your sorry ass kicking itself over and over. Begging for pity.

You stayed quiet. Feeling that damn bug, walking around and making her feel worse; Leon's hands cupped each other. You two were alone. Both struggled with an issue neither wanted to talk about, but you knew your issues, so that was enough.

Your finger scratched the inside of your ear.

"I'm," You struggle to even find your own words because every word after that ends with a wall, "I'm sorry." You whispered. Your legs crossed underneath your body, you wanted to say more, but what else there to say. "If I did a better job saving Luis," Your mouth turned dry, "If I," Your fingers squeezed together and repeated hit your chest, "I did a good job as your partner. This wouldn't end like this."

Leon tried to call out your name, but that anger of yours stood more. "I wanted to make myself proud. Make sure I can handle this."

"Handling this doesn't make it easier for me either." Leon remarked quickly. You nodded your head, "Well, you are Leon S. Kennedy. The president's favorite agent and everyone's favorite rookie." You mumbled annoyed.

"Seriously?" He scratched the back of his head, "You are just," Leon looked around the empty section of the castle they cleared out, "Jealous of me?"

"Envious."

"Well, I'm not." Leon folded his right leg and let his left leg stretched out. "I hate my life. I'm given a responsibility I never wanted. Krauser just saw me as his younger version of himself." Leon ruffled his blond locks of hair. "And that dick turned evil. That's fun." His head tilted a tiny bit towards you. Leon squeezed his thigh.

"Well, I'm nothing compared to you." You mumbled. "They don't even bother remembering my name." You recalled how everyone knew Leon's name, but Krauser being behind of this made more sense. "I'm just..." Your flashbacks betrayed you when Luis looked at you.

He smiled at you.

He saw you.

"I don't know who I am." Like it or not, you wanted praise for your achievements. Before Leon could answer or even you to hate yourself- Leon and you feel even more to the ground. The bug was picking more inside of you, running around and making itself a space. "Leon!" You cried out weakly. Your hand stretched out to get his hand. He grabbed your hand tightly with his.

The pain was running throughout the body. The black veins around your body were growing around your arms. You felt the burn with every inch. The veins crawled up. Up your neck and slowly up your face. You grabbed Leon's hand tighter, desperately trying to find peace and hope in this situation.

What will happen once the plagas effects them? Will they be mindless creatures every once in a while crying out 'Las Plagas' or muttering about the Lord Saddler?

Your stomach was gnawing at itself, bubbles of acid raised inside of your body. The damn bug was biting and biting. Controlling your stupid nervous system. You couldn't speak. It was grunts. Whines. Your body twitched over and over as the bug clawed and clawed. Your hand squeezed his tightly, your nails clawed and drew out his blood from his forearm.

Leon growled with pain, his arms instinctively twitched to hold you, but his own bugs was making his body hurt yet he tried to protect. His arms wrapped around your body, holding your clawing arm against his chest. Both of your body twitched over and and over. Clashing against each other. Who knows how long it lasted? It could've been days. Seconds. Weeks.

But once it ended, Leon and you were in that small silence. His arms around your waist. You let out a small sob, and your forehead rested on his chest. No matter the situation, blood and wounds always tied you two together. Leon's hand gently held your cheek, it was silent a moment as he comforted you with his touch. Like it or not. You were his partner and you loved it.

[glader13]

Trust Me

Leon Kennedy x Reader

“Shit,” you whispered, “There’s only one.”

You stared at the vial as if trying to conjure up another one, all this for just one? You heard Leon grumble in the background as he rummaged for spare bullets and other supplies. All this for just one, you thought again, thinking of all the shit that you and Leon went through. You placed your hand on the shoulder that you could’ve sworn was bitten off by those monsters, not surprised to see that your hand was red. 

But you thought back to the more pressing issue as you held the singular vial, the medicine that Luis had given you had worn off. You stared at the inky trails running up your arm feeling sick. We’ll just need to hurry then, you thought with a frown. 

“Did you find it?” Leon asked. 

“Yeah,” you said quietly, “But it’s only one though.”

He cursed again, walking past you to look in the safe as if he didn’t believe what you said. You moved out of his way, finding a wall to lean against. You placed the vial in one of your pockets, before sitting on the floor. You closed your eyes as you held your shoulder, breathing through your nose. Your shoulder was on fire, and you were unable to move it, just thinking about movement was enough to make you nauseated. Great, you thought, I'll only slow Leon down, and won't be able to protect Ashely. A burdened sigh left your mouth as you finally opened your eyes, seeing Leon walk over to you. 

“Hey handsome,” you grimaced, “Sorry I left you by yourself out there.”

He knelt in front of you, slowly removing your hand from your shoulder. His frown deepened seeing the torn and bloody flesh. He held his hands in front of you, unable to find a way to ease your pain. He got up, walking around the small lab to find something to wrap your shoulder with. 

“Were there a lot?” you asked again, but he continued to look for medical cloth, barely sparing a glance at you, “A few of them got in here,” you continued. 

You jumped at hearing the sound of supplies being thrown to the floor, as he tore open cabinets and drawers. He cursed again, which caused you to slowly make your way toward him. You leaned against him, causing him to jump before he relaxed again. You heard him sigh, as he took your free hand, no doubt about whether he was staring at the blood on it. 

“I’m doing a fine job of keeping you safe,” he finally spoke to you. 

“Well, then it’s a good thing that Ashley needs the protection and not me,” you said, kissing the back of his neck. 

“I failed you too many times already, first, you got infected and now you’re suffering from something that I can’t control and your shoulder,” he turned his head, “I have a responsibility to protect you.”

“No,” you said quickly, “I’m not your responsibility Leon. I earned being here just as much as you did. But thanks,” you smiled,  “For being my knight.”

“You can thank me when we get out of here,” he chuckled. 

The two of you eventually found some cloth to wrap around your shoulder. You closed your eyes as he did this, finally being able to breathe. You then felt his hand take hold of your wrist, gently holding it as his other hand traced the inky veins. His hand then cupped the side of your face, his thumb rubbing gentle circles over where the same inky veins appeared. You placed your hand over his, drowning in a love that you still can’t understand. You smiled at him, trying to tell him to not worry, but he couldn’t breathe under your calming gaze. He dropped his hand, as you found it again, lacing your fingers in between his. You opened your mouth, to say something to ease him, but you thought against it.

Instead, you motioned him to your side, guiding him to lean on you. You felt yourself smiling again, the moment causing you to think about your training days with Leon. Whenever the two of you were allowed a break, the two of you would sneak into a corner and sit just like this, with Leon glued against you or resting his head in your lap.

“You’re going to be okay,” Leon finally said, turning your face to him, “I promise you, my love.”

You leaned into him, kissing him softly, “I trust you, Le.”

On the walk back, and even when the two of you made it back to Ashley, he was focused on your health. Leon constantly touched your arm, tracing the black lines that marked your skin. To anyone else, his concentrated stare seemed distant, as if he was trying to figure out the cause of the markings. But you, you saw behind the curtain. You saw the worry in his eyes, the constant movement between your face and arm. You always felt his eyes on you, ready to be there in case you need him. 

You felt his worry, it covered you like a blanket. Whenever the plague would seep further into your body, causing you to spasm in pain, Leon would be there holding you. Telling you to breathe as he would whisper encouraging words, constantly telling you that he loves you and that you’ll be okay. That you’re safe with him. He would hold you way after the pain would subside, long after your breathing has calmed. His breathing and the rhythm of his heart would get you to close your eyes, his arms are the only place that you feel safe. You would relax, knowing that he would do anything for you. Yes, Ashley is his priority, but you know that he wouldn’t let anything harm you. If it came to you or Ashley, the two of you would have to flee the country hand in hand because of the decision that he would make. 

He looked at the vial, then at Ashley’s unconscious body. The plague has spread across her, creating black veins on her arms and her face. You felt your heart twist seeing her body, and remembering the fear etched on her face, she’s just been through so much. He then looked at you, his mind moving, “I can split it,” he began, “That should be enough until I can remove the parasite.”

“No,” you said, “We got this for her. She needs it.”

“But your arm. If she’s like this, then you can’t be far behind, Y/N-“

You kissed him softly, feeling him relax at your touch, “I’ll be okay, I promise.”

He softly touched the side of your face, causing you to lean into his touch. You placed your hand on top of his, communicating that you’ll be fine. He gave a slight nod, before kissing the top of your head. You stood back, watching Leon carefully inject Ashley. 

You smiled to yourself, seeing Leon be so careful. What a softie, you thought. Relief washed over you seeing Ashely’s skin return to normal, but it was short-lived. You hissed quietly, feeling a painful contraction in your arm. You clinched your fist, gritting your teeth as the black lines spread even further up your arm. Leon held you, forcing you to sit on the edge of the operating bed. You tapped your foot against the ground, squeezing Leon’s hand as the pain only worsened. 

“Hey,” Leon grabbed your attention, “Make sure to count between breaths, okay.”

You only responded by squeezing your eyes shut, causing him to speak again, “Make sure you’re counting love.”

“Okay,” you choked out.

Between the huffs and the counting, you desperately sought out other ways to ignore the pain. You focused on Leon’s jacket, how it was too big on you, but kept you warm. The lingering scent of his cologne seemed to have a magical effect, you felt calmer, sinking into the safety of the jacket. You felt your mind begin to drift, thinking of the first time that you wore this jacket. It was after training, you were long gone from your locker when you realized that you had left your jacket. You remember how it was freezing, and Leon gave you his jacket as he walked you back. 

You felt your lips quirk into the smallest smile remembering what he told you after he handed it to you, “Please don’t jacket up, it’s my favorite,” he smiled at his joke. You rolled your eyes, punching his arm. 

You slowly released his hand, feeling bad about the red finger marks. He smiled at you, shaking his hand as he commented about firm handshakes, which caused you to laugh. You flexed your hand, seeing the black marks not disappearing. You sighed again, how much time do I have left?

“Don’t worry about that,” he turned your face to him, “I’ll handle it.”

“But Leon, we don’t have much time. It’s spreading, I feel it in my body,” you felt your eyes begin to sting, “It’s like a cancer. I feel slow, it feels like a chain is slowly tightening around my heart. I don’t want to become one of them.”

You whispered the last part, unable to look at his fragile eyes or the slight quivering of his lips. You knew that he’s been blaming himself for what happened to you, frustrated that you were the one to save him. He shakily took your hand, wrapping it around yours. He brought your hand to his lips, kissing it. The small gesture did cause your heart to flutter, causing you to feel calm. 

“Love, I promise that you’ll be okay, I’m not going to let you turn into them. I’m going to do everything that I can to save you. I came with you to this place and I’m leaving with you from this place. You’re safe with me.”

He leaned into you, softly kissing your lips. I’m safe, you thought slightly deepening the kiss, feeling his hand hold yours a little tighter. You mumbled I love you in the kiss, breathless, feeling drunk. He responded by saying I’m not going to lose you in the same breathless drunk way, as if he needed your lips, your love, to survive. He pulled away from you, giving you one last kiss on your forehead. He walked away opening a cabinet, once again looking for something. You heard him make a sound of approval as he walked back with health spray and more cloth for injuries. You hissed as he sprayed your wound, hearing him quietly apologize. He then wrapped your wound, still trying his best to be gentle. 

“Rest up,” he said, “I’m going to check the area.”

“I’ll go instead,” you said, “You barely got any rest.”

“No,” he said, “Rest up, we’ll take turns. I won’t be long, promise.”

So you got comfortable, making sure that you weren’t in Ashely’s space. You held up your gun, showing Leon that you were prepared for any unexpected visitors. He nodded before heading off. In the silence, you thought of when you first met him, though you didn’t know why, it’s probably because of the emotions you thought, now I’m a softie.

You were having the roughest day of training. Everyone was being an ass and kicking your ass in everything. It eventually became too much and during your break, you hid in the locker room, crying settled on leaving the program. You thought you were by yourself until you felt the eyes of another, causing you to snap to attention. You remember feeling a surge of annoyance seeing Mr. Leon Perfect standing at the end of the aisle, lunch in hand. 

“You can laugh, I don’t care,” you said, refusing to clean your eyes. 

“Training is difficult,” he walked over, “It’s not fair for me to laugh.”

You rolled your eyes, thinking his kind words were for show. Even more annoyingly, he sat down next to you. You watched him open his lunch, taking a bite of an apple, his eyes focused on the blue lockers in front of you. He spun the apple in his hand, as you watched him, desperately wanting him to leave. 

“What happened?” he asked. 

You looked at him, ready to form a sarcastic response, before you stopped. He was genuine, his eyes were soft. They were looking at you as if trying to figure out who you are. You felt seen, and that alone made you shed some more tears. You opened up to him about how everyone there made your life a living hell, and how training was the worst thing on Earth. Your partners treated you like shit, and you had no one to report their behavior to. 

You cleaned your eyes, finally feeling somewhat better. You looked at Leon, who gave you a reassuring smile as he rubbed your back. “I can help you,” he finally said, “With the training, you’re already perfect at the other stuff.”

“Perfect?” You echoed, “I don’t know about all that. But besides, what does it even matter, it won’t save my life or anything.”

“I think it’s important actually,” he said, handing you his lunch, you peeked in, taking out an orange, “A mistranslation can cause mass casualties, it can have you be somewhere where you’re not supposed to be.”

You nodded, consenting to his point. You plucked the orange into your mouth, as you mumbled thank you, relishing in its sweet flavor. Who knew he would be so nice? He was a loner, never really the conversation type, but everyone still tried to be around him, especially the ladies. 

“Combat is important, but,” he gave you a sly smile, “All you need is two good shots, and I’ve seen your shooting, you have nothing to worry about.”

“Thanks,” you said quietly, “I’m-“

“Y/N,” he interrupted, then smiled again, “Sorry. I’m-“

“Leon,” you interrupted, causing the both of you to laugh. 

“Well, if it’s fine with you,” he began, “I can help you train, you shouldn’t be this frustrated over something like this.”

“Um, yeah. That’s cool, thanks. If you need help with something, let me know,” you smiled. 

That was your deal, he helped you with training and you helped him with the paperwork area, like language or coding. You didn’t know that you were making a friend at that moment, especially a partner. But through the years, you found yourself scaling the wall that he created around himself, finding layers so beautiful and fragile. It leaves you scared, praying that you won’t drop anything so precious.

“I’m back,” he snapped you out of your thoughts, “Found some more bullets.” 

“Good,” you smiled, slightly feeling a high. 

“Why do you have that look?” He smiled, “Thinking of something, or someone?”

You sat up again, “Just my sweet boy.”

You felt your face slightly burn, seeing his smirk as he placed the bullets on a spare cabinet. He swiftly, yet coolly walked towards you, placing his gun in the holster. You felt your face burn even more, paying attention to eyes that can read your soul and lips that personally knows your body. He leans over, trapping you. You moved stray hair out of his face, your breathing scarce. 

“Good,” he leaned into you. 

You kissed once again, instantly feeling refreshed. He forced your lips open, causing you to become dumb off of his tongue. He deepened the kiss, taking away your breath and causing you to forget where you are momentary. You squeezed his hand, feeling him bite your lip, before trailing down to your neck. His lips felt like heaven against the heat of your neck, soft yet commanding. You closed your eyes, cutting off your gasp as you felt Leon nip in between kisses. His smile is evidence that he caught your small reaction. 

“Once we leave,” he said in between kisses, his voice low, “We’re going somewhere nice, so I can be yours and you can be mine.”

“Yeah,” you breathed, your mind blank.

“I miss this,” he returned to your lips, “I miss how you feel.”

“Then we better hurry,” you whispered, “I also miss you on my lips.”

“That’s my girl, always on top of things and me,” he smiled. 

“Leon!” You whispered, motioning to Ashley. 

“What,” he snuck in another kiss, “She can’t hear us.”

He laughed, before walking back towards the ammo. You then watched him sit in front of the bed, taking up a guarding position as he pulled out his gun. Single-handedly, Leon checked the ammo, and you felt your mouth drop, which you thought wasn’t possible. But he surprised you a lot during this mission, most notably when he did a suplex. Seeing his biceps and the veins in his arms has left your brain and mind in shambles. Once again, you were at a loss for words. 

“Pretty cool, right?” You could hear his smirk. 

“Show off,” you managed to say.

“Well, at least I’m your show off,” he said turning towards you, “Get some rest, okay? You need to.”

“And you?”

“I’m still fine from earlier when I rested,” he kissed your hand, “I’ll wake you up if I need you, promise.”

You quietly said okay, lying down facing the back of Leon’s head. You ran your hand through his soft hair, causing him to lean back even more. He hummed quietly, as you smiled, reminding you of home. Home, where you sit on the couch as you gave Leon a massage listening to the radio. 

“You want your jacket back?” You asked him. 

“No, it looks better on you than me.”

You smiled, snuggling into it, finally closing your eyes.

Part 2

Part 3

[nvoirs]

i had an idea and I was wondering if I could request you write it! <33

So the reader is a rookie agent working with Leon to save Ashley in re4, but Leon's salty about it because he prefers to work alone, but after getting to know her better and having an extreme attraction to her.. they hide out somewhere while taking shelter from an attack by salazar and they share an intimate moment? 😏

could Leon be dom and the reader is nervous and sub... but Leon's still respectful while still fucking her dumb?

ty!!!

Disclaimers: Thongs are not practical for missions but whatever! Cowgirl + missionary position, Leon dom but he's a respectful man, female reader sub, cussing, fingering, hand job, spanking, marking, biting, hickeys, creampied.

--

There he goes off again, walking ahead of you yet again. If you were ambushed he probably wouldn't even bat an eye at you probably saying “you can handle it on your own.” Leon Kennedy was the epitome of an arrogant bastard, he made your blood pump angrily around your body fists clenched ready to punch him squarely in his perfect nose.

You didn’t hate Leon. it’s just that he got on your nerves sometimes, he preferred to ‘work alone’ as he put it. He was acting as if you had chosen to come along with him like some dumb puppy of a rookie. You actually did look up to Leon, copying his hand movements with his gun and shielding yourself the same way he did. He wasn’t a brilliant partner to you but he sure knew how to take care of himself.

“Leon, look! There’s the church, hunnigan mentioned.”

 He mentally rolled his eyes at you ignoring your little buzzing voice as he trudged to the church shotgun in hand with you scurrying behind his tall form.

“Hey you know Leon, you don’t have to be such a rude bitch ya know? Lighten up a little.” You looked at his stoic expression that slowly changed into a mixture of arrogance and disgust.

“Watch your mouth rookie, I’m your superior. You follow my orders and speak when I tell you to.”

 You scoffed as you tagged along, pistol in hand as you glared at him. He was so fucking handsome you couldn’t lie. His golden hair wet with rain water made him look so sexy and you were biting your lip but quickly turned away when he caught you staring.

Leon was about to open his mouth when you heard a distant cry in the distance. A bunch of axe wielding cultists came scrambling your way ready to stake you both. You both turned a corner the opposite way from the church, when Leon shockingly grabbed your arm flinging you into the side of a cabin door.

“Quick in here!”

 You thought you saw an apologetic gaze for quite literally smacking you into the door but it was gone as quickly as it was revealed. You silently followed his orders walking through the door of the small home. The air smelt musty and dust particles swarmed everything you touched, a faint smell of rotting meat lingered making you curl your lips and scrunch your nose in disgust.

“Get down!” Leon hissed. “Alright, alright.” you replied, hands surrendered in the air, getting down on your knees, your back hitting the wall below the window just as a mumbling villager swept past.

 Your heartbeat thumped in your chest, and you could hear blood rushing in your ears scared of being caught. Leon however was poking his head out just so he could see out of the window.

“Fuck, they're setting up a camp goddamnit.” His frustrated words made your mind hazy, and you swallowed the lump in your dry throat.

“Looks like we're going to be here for a while, unless I can get in contact with Luis or Hunnigan.” He smacked the radio in his palm, but all that could be heard was a faint crackling sound. Not a good sign.

“So.. what now?” You trembled, wait to go to make it obvious you were shitting yourself right now.

“Don't tell me you're a scared rookie.” He chuckled a cheshire grin etching itself upon his pinkish lips.

“I mean I might be sawn in half if they find us here, in this tight little hut with barely any ammo left so yeah Leon I am a bit scared.”

For the first time ever, Leon's face seemed to soften at your curt words. “Don't worry rookie, I'll keep you safe, I promise.” He stuck his pinkie out, and you looked at it as if he was mocking you.

“Seriously, What am I five?”

 He pouted. “No but we're never too old for pinky promises.” You laughed, slapping his pinky playfully away.

It had been around an hour since you and Leon had been stuck, waiting for the right time to bolt through that door and make your escape. That time had yet to come as the villagers looked like they weren't budging at all. You'd gotten to know Leon slightly more than you had known sixty minutes ago. He was actually a pretty cool dude, and your crush on him just intensified at all the things he spoke to you about.

You eventually both stopped speaking, sighing, your eyes drooping with sleep. You couldn't help but just close your eyes..

“Wake up!” Leon whispered to you. Your eyelids shot open, “W-what can we leave now?” Your head moved from something soft beneath you, and you realised it was Leon's thigh.

You moved swiftly, coughing to mask the embarrassment bubbling inside of you. “Sorry Leon, didn't mean to fall asleep on you.” You awkwardly laughed scratching your head before stretching.

“No we can't leave just yet, but you sleeping on me was kinda cute.”

“W-what?” Your eyes widened, like a deer stuck in headlights you didn't know what to say.

“Need me to repeat that?” He whispered into your ear, smooth like honey, warm like the sun.

“No? But thanks I guess.” His deep chuckles had butterflies fluttering violently inside of you as you swallowed.

“So cute.. do you maybe want to do something else to pass the time, rookie?”

You weren't entirely sure what he meant, but then it hit you like a truck.

Sex? Here? Out of all places!

“Leon, I'd love to but not here..”

His eyes glistened, the pupil of his eyes dilating in excitement.

“But wouldn't it be fun here baby? What other place will we have this much privacy?”

He had a point. You and him would eventually meet back up with Luis and Ashley and you wouldn't have another chance of trying this new side of Leon you hadn't seen before.

“There isn't that much privacy.” You mumbled, looking up at the window, the ragged curtains fluttering in the cool breeze.

“Enough privacy then.” His hand was clutching your thigh lightly and you hadn't even realised. You wiggled your thigh slightly, and Leon gripped tighter. He was still waiting for an answer.

“O-okay.”

 He grinned when you nodded, showing his pearly rows of teeth.

He cupped your face gently, moving in for a sweet passionate but desperate kiss. His blonde stray hairs tickling your face, as his kisses slowly got more sloppy, more needy. He bit your lip, and you whined at the sudden intrusion but you liked it. Your hands slid around the nape of his neck, trying to pull him impossibly closer. At this point you were sitting on his lap, grinding down for any sort of friction.

“Aren't you just the sweetest when you make those sounds for me?” Leon gently pushed you off of him, pinning you down to the dusty, wooden floor. His hands trailing up your torso, before hovering over your chest.

You watched him, locking eye contact while the wetness grew inside your underwear. You nodded, giving him permission to undress you at your will, he started ripping off your tactical gear. It was dangerous, he knew that because the crazed villagers were only a few feet away but he couldn't help but want to see you completely naked on your knees for him.

Managing to shimmy of your pants, he squeezed his eyes shut from the view. Your underwear was so skimpy, it was barely covering you and he raised an eyebrow at the choice of underwear you'd gone with. A thong.

“What? I find them practical for missions” You pouted.

You watched his eyes darken with a brewing lust for you. Rolling you over so your tits were squished and your ass exposed he slapped a cheek. Not loud enough to alert the cultists, but loud enough that you got the message. You were driving him to the very edge, knowing what choice of clothing you had on underneath this whole time. If he had known, you would have been fucked and full of his cum long before. The stinging sensation made your pussy clench, groping the other cheek Leon left another searing slap making your eyes water.

“You okay down there?”

You nodded, “Want more please.”

He chuckled, tutting at you, “Always so eager, even at a time like this.”

Leon unclasped your bra, the straps falling down your quivering shoulders as his calloused hands ran over the skin of them. Leon pulled you up so your bra slipped from your body completely, leaving you exposed. He hummed as he dragged you onto his lap, grabbing each breast in the palm of his hand and kneading them causing you to throw your head back from the burst of pleasure.

“Oh yeah, just like that Leon.”

Your moans of encouragement spurred him on to pursuit, taking a finger before wetting it and bringing it back to your erect nipple. He rubbed his saliva around, tight little circles making you jerk up. Your pussy was leaking like crazy as you whimpered into his ear, rutting like a pup against his clad thigh. The thin of your underwear made it easier for you to grind against him, hot and sweaty you could feel yourself getting closer-

Coming to an abrupt stop because of the strong pair of hands glueing your hips into place you mewled at the loss of contact.

“No! was so close.” Tears filling your eyes.

“Aw baby, don't you want to cum on my fingers instead? don't cry shh now.” He twisted you around so you were facing him, clasping your face in his rough hands.

“Y-yes please.” Pulling your panties to the side, and with a satisfied hum Leon slipped two of his fingers into your throbbing hole.

“Oh!” You were surprised at your own noises, but maybe that's because your senior had his fingers buried deep inside of you.

“You like that?” The smug look annoyed you a bit, but you couldn't open your mouth because if you did you weren't going to form a coherent sentence for him to understand.

A low whine slipped its way from under your breath, making you slap a hand to your filthy mouth. Leon saw this, grabbing your hand that was plastered across your face and pinning it to the ground.

You were panting, the curdling feeling in your stomach increasing second by second.

 “I want to hear you, want to hear how good I'm making you feel.”  Leon mumbled inside your ear, sending straight up shivers rolling down your slumped form pressed tightly against his broad chest.

“Leon I'm gonna- I can't hold it I'm gonna be too loud-!” He already knew this with the way you were tightening your walls around his fingers like you never wanted them to leave.

 Leon hushed you and you panicked as the coil in your abdomen snapped making you scream but Leon was quicker pressing a large hand swiftly to your loud mouth.

You rode out your high by grinding against his lap, until finally you were back down to earth again.

“Baby if you're that loud with just my fingers, how are you gonna take my actual dick?”

You flushed an incredibly red colour, “You want to do that?”

His eyes glinted, “Of course I do, we've gone too far to start anew.”

The corruption was real, and Leon had you in the palm of his hand.

He dropped his pants, clutching his throbbing cock in one hand stroking it as you watched him. Your eyes fluttering hidden beneath your long lashes making Leon's cock twitch.

“Do you want to help me out angel?” His grin widened, as he watched you move from your sprawled out position on the ground.

“Yes please, I want to.” You sprung up at the opportunity, making him chuckle at your eagerness to please him. To please your senior.

You were naked completely, vulnerable to the touch and Leon watched you move your unblemished, smooth skin unmarked. He'll have to fix that later.

Holding his cock, you felt the warmth of his skin blossoming beneath your fingers. Your up and down movements made Leon grit his teeth, head leaning against the cracked wall as you rubbed him increasingly.

“Oh fuck yes, go faster.”

His command worked wonders on you, as you sped up your movements. Leon opened his eyes and took in the view right in front of him. Plump lips swollen covered in something he believed to be his own saliva, hair messily strewn on your head, and the sparkly red nail polish looked good holding him like that. He didn't really think your nail polish was professional at first but he just found it really cute now.

He was coming before he knew it. Spurts of cum covered himself, and he couldn't remember the last time he'd been this intimate with somebody.

“That's a lot.” Your widened eyes caught his attention and he chuckled.

“That's the way you make me feel, now why don't you clean up the mess you made?”

Your mouth was honest to god heavenly. Heavenly could really only be the one that could describe you finally on your knees gracing your presence for Leon to admire.

“Oh yeah, get that tongue working c'mon.” He was huffing and puffing by the time you were done, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“C'mere, come and ride me before we have to get going.” You gulped as you shifted your body weight over to Leon.

Slowly sinking yourself down onto him you felt his dick press against your inner side.

“Did you miss the entrance because you're still a little out of it baby?” He lifted you off of his lap, stroking your clit making you bite your tongue hard.

“You should try again, maybe you'll land a bullseye.” His glistening eyes didn’t seem blue anymore, but something darker entirely like he was enjoying embarrassing you.

You sunk down again, the burning sensation of Leon's cock filling your walls made tears prick your eyes.

“Need help moving?” He muttered softly in your ear.

“N-no I don’t” Your head lolled into the crook of his neck, smelling the sweat and dirt accumulated from the job. It was surprisingly comforting and you stayed like that till you heard Leon chuckle grabbing a fistful of your tied up hair yanking your head back not too hard but it definitely wasn’t soft either.

“You're so stubborn, just ask for help, you know?”

Grabbing a hold of your hips, he began to grind you against his cock and you made your way towards the snug spot in his chest once again.

“Mmph Leon- so big!”

“Or maybe you're just too small.”

Your bottom lips trembled at his words, a shudder passing over you as you gripped onto his shoulder practically glueing your hand to his skin. Making out the top of the ganandos heads you gasped when you saw one of their heads slowly turning to observe the surroundings.

Without thinking you pushed Leon to the ground, his damp hair tickling your face as you held your breath. He looked at you confused, but you just enveloped your lips in his to stop your high pitched moans. His cock was impossibly deep inside of you at this angle, slick dripping down your leg as you felt yourself reaching that orgasmic bliss.

“Any reason why you did that?”

“They were fuck- gonna see us.”

“Well they would have seen me fucking you stupid that’s all.” Grabbing your ass cheeks, Leon bounced you harder on his cock. You couldn’t even warn him as you cummed hard, creaming his cock trickling down your thighs.

Muscles tensing as a hard wave of overstimulation washed over your whole body, Leon had rolled you over pounding into you as hard as he could. Grunting and fallen curses leaving his blessed lips as he came hard inside of you. You're already warm insides, warmed even more by his creamy load.

“So glad I got to feel that pussy, hope you're on birth control baby.”

“What if I’m not?”

 You were, but wanted to tease him a bit, get his heart pumping.

“Well there’s no morning after pills around here, I mean I could ask the merchant but I don’t think he’d have those in stock so- Ouch!”

A sharp pain to the ribs welcomed Leon, as he clutched his now sore side baby blue eyes blinking up at you as he watched you pull your pants up grimacing.

“Hey what was that for?”

“For being a dick, superiors can still be dicks, you know.”

He huffed, crossing his arms, eyes narrowing at your appearance.

“Well if you want a mini Kennedy running around your legs for the next twenty years, be my guest but he’d be tough just like his papa.”

Leon had finished pulling his pants up, and buckling his belt before running a hand through his matte blonde strands.

“I was joking, Leon.” You clicked your tongue.

“Oh right, I knew that.”

“Sure ya did, now how am I going to wear this?” You brandished the torn underwear you held between your thumb and index finger.

“Well, that’s pretty unwearable rookie I’d go look for another pair.”

“We fucked and your still calling me rookie?” You hissed. “Where exactly do you want me to look for another pair of underwear in this shithole?”

His eyes were travelling to the stairs that led to the top of the house,you caught that following his lead.

“No way Leon! I am not wearing someone else's underwear, gross!” You scowled at the thought.

“Underwear really wasn’t covering you anyways, but hey It’d be nice to feel my cum drip down your legs, show you who took you right here.”

He placed a swift kiss on the corner of your mouth, leaving you to indulge in your new feelings for your sarky but extremely attractive superior.

[cringefaecompilation]

DORIAN STORM, ROBBIE DAYMOND, AND THE CRITICAL ROLE FANDOM

because some people don’t know how to act when a piece of collaborative media they like starts getting people of color to add to it. a good amount of this are things I’ve already discussed on my blog, so if you’ve been following me for a while, consider this a more polished version of my complaining. obvious content warnings for racism, with explicit focus on whitewashing, pinkwashing, and cultural assimilation.

quick note before we start: we’re talking about racism, not how annoying you think xyz white character is or how much you want to punt all xyz shippers into a fire. keep your comments focused on dorian himself; it feels counterproductive when conversations about the racism experienced by actors of color and the fictional characters they play snowballs into shitting on fictional white characters and completely ignoring the former.

with all that said, let’s begin.

if you’re reading this, there’s a strong possibility that you already know who dorian storm is, but just in case if you don’t, i’ll give you a quick rundown.

dorian storm is an air genasi bard from campaign 3 of critical role. he made his debut a few months before the third campaign official started in what was meant to be an anthology series on the channel: exandria unlimited. after eight episodes in that series, a short 14 episode run establishing the new campaign, and two more episodes in a sequel to the first anthology, dorian remained largely out of focus for the remainder of the campaign up until episode 92 whereupon he returned and rejoined his party for the third act climax.

while he’s generally beloved, most of his fans haven’t seen or acknowledged his debut, and have only watched the main series campaign. it’s a shame, given how little he’s given to do in the main campaign asides reconnect with his elder brother cyrus. most of his characterization is found in the anthologies and gets built upon when he comes back, so the fandom’s aversion to watching it means they’re missing out on a lot of what robbie’s established for dorian. the more i thought about this aversion, the more it hit me as to why people might be put off it. for such a beloved fandom character, most fans have completely forgotten that exandria unlimited was largely dorian’s story, with opal picking up the slack whenever he took a break from being in the spotlight. by comparison, fearne, orym, and dariax had minimal screentime and vaguer backstory setup. 

dorian and opal taking up the vast swath of story in makes sense for two reasons: robbie and aimee were completely new to the hobby! let the new guys have their fun instead of letting the professionals try to backseat drive the story! the second reason is that ashley johnson, liam o’brien, and matthew mercer are 100% going to return to critical role. it’s their jobs! so they can stand to fight over the same 15 minutes of screentime where aimee and robbie have their fun in the spotlight. even not-so-new kid anjali bhimani got a massive swath of her storyline and backstory established despite only appearing for half the first mini-series!

the same thing happened with calamity, where the plot was primarily moved by aabria and luis. sadly, lou did not get to add as much as them (or the rest of the cast imo) but brennan understood not to give marisha, travis, and sam special attention because they’re always there.

and if we’re talking about calamity, there’s another thing we’ve got to talk about. why is the pre-campaign three series that is predominantly played and dm’d by people of color, treated as more expendable than the pre-history avalir series despite involving three fandom-beloved characters and two fandom-beloved ships? how come people complained about an episode and a half being dm’d by aabria because “they weren’t warned ahead of time” but were fine with brennan taking over critical role for an entire month when there was equally zero “warning” for him to do so? and thinking harder, i suppose i came up with our thesis question.

do people even really like dorian?

DORIAN/ROBBIE BASHING

edit: robbie pulled a pro gamer move and this section is now somewhat inaccurate. see here for an explanation.

since dorian’s vocal haters aren’t as numerous as his vocal fans, i’ll go through this part quickly.

i understand that any character can be grating to anyone for any reason, but some of their insults and insistences about dorian and robbie tend to get a bit loaded. we’re not racist! we just think robbie daymond is just uniquely annoying with crosstalk and his character’s backstory doesn’t mesh with the story the campaign is trying to tell! he’s not a real member of the group because he wasn’t there for all their important moments! he should just die offscreen so they’ll shut up about him already! the only reason people want him back is because they’re rabid liam o’brien fangirls that want him to kiss a man with tongue on-screen!

we’ll touch on that last bit later, but there’s always a weird pit in my stomach whenever someone insists that dorian doesn’t work with bell’s hells. the watsonian side of me wants to argue that a runaway/disguised noble is a perfectly common npc type. but the doylist side of me wonders if they think it’s because robbie does not fit in as a person with the cast of critical role because there’s just something too different about him. i wonder if you can tell what it is.

and this last one is more of a nitpick, but a few people joked about how robbie, christian, and utkarsh were all interchangeable or sound or look the same. don’t do that.

in full fairness, i don’t think it makes someone a racist automatically if they dislike a fictional person of color. after all, you can say “i think finn was underutilized in the star wars trilogy and had an unsatisfying character arc, so i cannot bring myself to like him” and still acknowledge that there was bigotry in the writer’s room that led to said poor character arc.

unfortunately, someone might agree with only the first part of your complaint and then add on that they fantasize about blowing up john boyega with their mind so that rey and kylo can have their perfect aryan babies in peace. not only that, but the insistence that a person of color having a minimal role compared to the white people in the story to explain why you can’t be a fan of them goes from explanation to excuse rapidly when you realize how many white background characters are given their own sub-fandoms built solely upon headcanons.

which leads us to our next point.

DOUBLE STANDARDS AND WHITEWASHING

this fandom seems to have a massive problem with headcanons, but it’s not for the reasons you’d think. they have to act as though the person is only making up headcanons to spite either the rest of the fanbase or the human actor themselves. i’ve no such compunctions about headcanons. give pike glasses! make laudna viet! say that caduceus is a cane user! but there comes a problem when you insist that your angsty trauma headcanons are more genuine than someone who has legitimately gone through the same in canon.

what do i mean by that? let’s pivot a bit to a comparison between two seemingly unrelated characters that made the rounds about a year ago: essek thelyss and bor’dor dog’son. don’t worry, this ties into dorian, i swear.

both men were jaded by religion and religious people in their lives and were led down dark paths when martinet ludinus da’leth entered their lives and attempted to sway them into his anti-god cult. bor’dor was fully sucked into the cogs of his killing machine and offed by bell’s hells, but essek fled into hiding after giving ludinus a holy item that belonged to his people, realizing too little too late the weight of his actions.

according to fandom, essek was manipulated emotionally into a bigoted movement and just needed to be deradicalized because he didn’t know what he was doing was wrong. the fictional man of color, bor’dor dog’son, as portrayed by the real-life man of color, utkarsh ambhukdar, for some reason is not given this grace at all. in fact, he’s been compared to delilah briarwood of all people because both of them were villainous sorcerers that felt slighted by someone, despite this comparison falling flat outside of the aesthetic where she is a broken bird crying out for her husband rather than a conniving unrepentant villain. or perhaps they see him as just as evil as her for harming and deceiving the white player characters.

it seems fandom is more comfortable with the illusion of a person of color as voiced by a white man, filtered through a fantasy species canonically discriminated against, and further filtered through headcanons, fanart, and fanfiction by their choice rather than having to interact with the indian man on screen staring back at them.

and if bor’dor is demonized for being a person of color, then dorian is liked for… being a person of color… that the fandom can pretend he isn’t because his skin is blue and not brown.

dorian is literally a person of color with his blue skin and hair, but he’s still also an actual person of color because of his player. compare him to sam nightingale and katja cleaver, despite having powder blue skin and olive-green skin and being fantasy creatures (triton and orc), they wasted no time in telling brennan lee mulligan that there would be no “carmelinda” nonsense; they were a black transfeminine woman and an indian woman just the same as them.

and if you’re going to say, “okay but assuming a person of color has to play a character that’s the same race/ethnicity as they are makes you the real bigot!”

again, must i refer to sam nightingale and katja cleaver. they made the active decision to depict their characters the same as themselves. they consented to it. this was not some sort of shallow corporate-driven plot to force two women of color into portraying diverse characters to capitalize off their identities.

and likewise, the same can be said for robbie and dorian. robbie daymond identifies as multiracial and is part apache. that’s straight from his twitter, so it’s very easily accessible to anybody that would be curious.

so going back to critical role, dorian comes from a nomadic people who keep mostly to themselves and provide wisdom to its diasporic people that come to them for guidance. they’re extremely secretive and even more so distrustful of outsiders, resorting to violence as a last-ditch effort to ensure their secrecy. they can’t risk anything about their people or their culture falling into the wrong hands and warn their children to be wary of the outside world. dorian and his brother reject being called princes a lot of times, and cyrus only picks it up because he likes the sound of it!

if you aren’t from the united states of america you might not know (and even if you are, you still might not know) apache tribes are known for being nomadic. being diasporic and wary of outside forces attempting to harm one's culture only further bolsters the coding. dorian’s backstory appears to be robbie attempting to reconnect with his culture, and good on him! but for some reason, the fandom hasn’t picked up on that. look, i love fanart that emphasizes robbie’s culture, but the number of times i’ve seen people reblog/retweet it without a second thought and then go back to ignoring the exact same cultural coding in canon is… something else.

if vandran can somehow have an accent (and fjord can mimic it) from the southern united states of america off the coast of a continent based on eastern europe, if byroden is somehow comparable with the real-life city of laredo, texas despite being smack dab in the middle of a continent based on western europe, if the air ashari’s culture is a weird mishmash of samoan, irish celtic, and pan-east asian (by way of avatar the last airbender) cultures, then i don’t think it’s an unreasonable thought that the silken squall would not have to be a one-to-one recreation to be coded as such, laurel crowns be damned.

this lack of attention to this detail in fandom is a bit strange, as usually every other (usually male) character has their backstories and everything that their players intended for them memorized to a t by the fandom. it’s almost a running gag at this point where if someone makes a headcanon that bends canon the slightest millimeter and begins to gain traction, you’ll have someone more popular than them instantly vagueing “crazy entitled fans” who “think they know better than canon”. so what makes robbie’s unstated intentions for dorian (outside his affection for his friends and possible romantic crushes) completely fly under the radar? doesn’t anybody think that’s weird? does he need to say out loud that dorian is coded as native so people will realize it?

but even this erasure isn’t the worst of bigotry with his character, that’s saved for the next part.

STEREOTYPES

the irony of dorian’s backstory being whitewashed but his role in fandom still heavily conforming to racist stereotypes about native americans is not lost on me. it’s like there’s a veil keeping them from fully realizing it, but it’s thin enough for them to latch onto unconscious prejudices. there are a lot of caricatures of native americans in media, both within and outside of north america, but only two of them apply to dorian’s treatment in fandom. the magical indian and the noble savage.

the magical indian, much like the magical negro and the magical asian, is nothing more than a paragon of perfection that exists only to prop up the white characters. they give sage advice and mentorship, but have little to no aspirations of their own or even a life outside their relationship with their white protégé. they may die heroically to spur the white characters into action and mourn how kind and perfect they were.

the noble savage gives similar bolstering to the white characters, but carries even worse implications. at the very least the former is seen as something resembling a person, deified and lacking all depth as they may be. the noble savage is treated like an entirely alien species, and a violent and dangerous one at that. he is handsome, in an exotic, othered way, but violent and unable to be reasoned with and only ever sated for a time. despite being “one of the good ones” he still needs to be “civilized” completely out of his culture or murdered to avoid tainting white culture.

obviously nothing in this fandom gets that bad, but the parallels are there. prior to dorian’s return, the vast majority of fan content that detailed his return made him into the de facto therapist for bell’s hells. because obviously dorian wasn’t going through anything himself with the solstice, magic backfiring, and opal being corrupted! he’d be happy to be nothing more than a shoulder to cry on without any traumas or tribulations of his own to worry about! they all got solved and dealt with offscreen, honest. and after his return, people who were either on the fence about him or disliked him entirely began to come around once he positively interacted with and bonded with the other white characters they liked.

the complaint of “i dislike that dorian is never allowed to exist outside of his friends” gets misinterpreted as “it’s out of character for dorian to care so much about his friends” either by well-meaning or willful ignorance, but at the end of the day, it’s ignorance either way. this would be different if he was an npc, but he has hours of content that doesn’t focus solely on his relationships with other people. yes, it is a massive part of his characterization that he will do anything for his loved ones, but why are we focusing on them and not him?

then again, maybe fandom shouldn’t focus on other parts of his backstory.

any mention of the silken squall that isn’t reskinning it to be a generic fantasy keep tends to make it a living hell. sure, the bits and pieces we’ve heard from it make it extremely clear they’re unhealthily secretive, strict, and a bit full of themselves, but it’s not as if they’re evil aristocrats that kick puppies for fun. the tale of a young man that’s going against tradition is hardly one that belongs to a single culture, but i’ve found people find it the most digestible when they strip it of all nuances. it’s the “no, dad, i’m my own man! individualism for life, baby!” power fantasy everyone’s always dreamed of where you can up and leave a situation and leave everything you’ve ever known behind.

so the silken squall is just homophobic, transphobic, and fantasy racist. dorian should completely abandon it and all its ways to go off gallivanting with the hells in perpetuity, which is the correct option. never mind that matt himself said that lgbtphobia in exandria is not the same or is far less common than it is in our world. never mind that in the previous campaign there was a massive story hook about prejudice and xenophobia that humans enacted on species they viewed as “monsters”. because why should the silken squall be anything more than a hive of bigotry and cruelty with no grey areas? everyone knows every flying city in exandria was pure evil and should be nuked from orbit! it’s true, brennan lee mulligan told me so!

i suppose i was wrong for expecting better. if two disney films meant to sell dolls to little girls that more or less looked directly into the camera and said “sometimes people do bad stuff because they were hurt real bad in the past, but that doesn’t make them bad people! racism is still gross!” could both get misinterpreted with zero nuance as being about an abusive matriarch forcing her family into impossible perfection, then i should’ve figured that people would do the same with a piece of adult media.

SHIPPING CONTENT

let’s finally get this out of the way. there is a very intentional reason i’ve been dancing around the subject of shipping with dorian.

i do not have anything against dorym as a ship. i do think that they like each other! they’ve got a lot of really sweet moments together! they just have a lot of personal things they have to work through to get there.

to say that it’s forced, or they’re “trying too hard” to make it seem like they’re about to confess their mutual love, or has had zero buildup can feel at times like a “gotcha” to mock its fans for being pushy. they’re both clearly trying to get back into the swing of things now that robbie’s returned and they can move forward with developing their relationship. i wouldn’t be surprised if it’ll be like late game beauyasha, which had a similar problem with not having a lot of content for it due to one member of the ship being absent from the table because scheduling despite being beloved by fandom until we got into the mid-100s.

that all being said, there is a tendency for dorian to be treated poorly in the ship by the shippers. all my complaints about it hinge solely on the fans. now, i don’t think all dorym fans are like this; i would be making the same complaints if dorian/laudna, dorian/imogen, fearne/dorian, doomstorm, or greystorm shippers did this as well. but since dorym is the most popular out of all of them, i will be discussing it primarily.

small mercies that dorian’s coding is largely ignored because that means nobody's making pocahontas aus with the dorym ship. (and if they are, please don’t tell me. we know its racist. you don’t need to show it to me to confirm that it is, indeed, racist. i don’t frequent ao3 for a reason). even without that, dorym still falls victim to the ship dynamic of the delicate white person and the strong person of color.

i’m already uncomfortable with how orym’s trauma is viewed by a vast majority of the fandom, but adding in the “dorian has no feelings outside his own and is only a machine to deposit in trauma coins until sex comes out” situation i described earlier, it gets bad really quick. often times dorian’s whole worldview is warped to focus only on orym and orym’s feelings. he certainly trusts and looks to him as a leader, but the constant insistence that orym is the only thing that matters in his life, orym is the only person he would trust unconditionally, orym is the only one he would ever truly be in love with, he must be the one to fix orym’s trauma and make him whole with no work from orym’s side at all and orym orym orym orym orym-

yeah it’s bad.

and now we come to braius doomseed, the newest bull on the block. sam riegel introduced his new character as an over-comedic flirt who went after everybody with a pulse... and laudna! provided you’re able to take a joke, a lot of people had fun cracking remarks about how braius confirmed that bell’s hells were just another basement away from having a real orgy instead of a fake. but then there were those who did not like the joke, and by that i mean, people who genuinely wished death upon sam, braius and the shippers ironic and genuine for daring to get in the way of dorym. because dorian is orym’s man, not braius’ man!

do i really need to say why it’s wrong to say or imply a white person owns a person of color? do you need an explanation for that? it’s bad! very bad!

i must reiterate: i don’t think every single dorym shipper acts like this or has never spoken out about this trend. i follow a good number of people that like the ship and a lot of them have no problem with shipping them with other people and treating them as their own characters on equal footing. it’s okay to like the ship and it’s okay to not like the ship.

or if you don’t like the ship, you could always make nazi jokes.

would you believe that this post actually made me want to make this one? there is a score of perfectly good reasons to dislike dorym as a ship as stated previously, but you made a joke about how a white guy is getting denied of his rightful claim to a relationship by a native guy? i take it back, maybe people do need things explained to them. you certainly don’t see laura/marisha pc shippers speak about aabria or erika this way.

speaking of, that makes for a terrific segue!

imodna tends to be bashed by both ashrym and dorym shippers in equal measures, partially due to misogyny and lesbophobia usually rampant in m/m shipping spaces, and partially because people still have lingering wounds from entitled beaujes shippers from campaign two. i think it’s safe to assume that a vast swath of the holdover from campaign two abandoned ship (heh) following episode 34, as that’s when i remember seeing a lot of angry imodna shippers complaining about how orym should have died instead of laudna and ragequitting the campaign. but what does this have to do with dorian, you ask?

well, i haven’t seen any fanfiction or aus where dorian is laudna’s abusive boyfriend that imogen must save with her sapphic mind powers (again, if it does exist, keep that shit to yourself because we know it’s racist) but i have seen some imodna fans utterly despise orym and anything that has to do with him. and if they hate anything that has to do with him, that includes dorian.

most of the “dorian is a useless character that doesn’t need to exist/only exists for crazy fangirls/should die offscreen” comments as stated all the way back there come from imodna shippers sniping back at a lot of the people being crappy about their ship. or in fanfic/fanart they’ll overemphasize his snottier or selfish aspects or make him out to be an impulsive dimwit as a “joke.” long story short, they aim at the white guy and dorian gets gored with the shrapnel.

SO NOW WHAT?

i think it’s pretty obvious where to go from here. do better. watch exandria unlimited and exandria unlimited kymal! acknowledge the story that robbie is trying to tell.  be respectful and ask questions if people are willing to give answers. and if you don’t find dorian enjoyable or interesting as a character, think about why you don’t and ask yourself if you’d extend that same indifference to a white character. it’s not that hard to simply say that a ship or a character just isn’t your thing without being bigoted about it!

hopefully this post helped people see things they may have overlooked in their analyses of dorian and thanks to @bam-monsterhospital, @fear-ne and a bunch of anons for adding their input!

[destroy-me-baby]

Leon Kennedy headcanons? (Please, Bitte, include Ashley somehow thank you)

Leon Kennedy NSFW hcs + Ashley

Requests are open, see pinned post.

Content Warnings: mentions of sub/dom dynamics, begging, orgasm delay/denial, edging, punishments, “mommy/daddy” and “sir/ma’am” used as a title, overstimulation.

This is nsfw, if you are underage or uncomfortable with the previously mentioned content, please continue scrolling.

Sub!Leon hcs:

- Oh you have no fucking idea.

- This man is desperate for affection and praise, I can practically smell it on him.

- Mostly an obedient sub, especially RE2 era Leon, but anything after that he will get a bit brattier.

- Mommy/daddy kink for sure. He loves it when his mommy or daddy is kind and gentle with him, and will pull him into their chest for aftercare as they rub his back.

- He’s a softie at his core, he wants to be taken care of and to care for others. Definitely giving me some service sub vibes, he will practically beg to eat you out or suck your dick.

- “Please, can I make you feel good? Please untie me, or sit on my face, or whatever you want as long as I can make you cum? Please??”

- Speaking of begging, when you overstim him he tends to go nonverbal, mainly just whines, whimpers, and the occasional “please-“ mixed in here and there.

- But when you edge him? Or G-d forbid straight up deny him? It’s a whole different story.

- “Please- please can I cum? I’ll do whatever you want, I promise! Please??“

- To the point that any soft dom would probably cave and give him what he wants.

- Hard doms though? I think Leon would prefer soft, but if he got around a dominant who’s a stickler for the rules, all that training will come in handy right away.

- “Yes sir/ma’am, right away sir/ma’am.”

- Like I said, RE4 and up Leon is more of a brat. His main recurring offense is back talking. Nothing crazy like outright insulting his dominant (unless it’s someone like Luis, let’s be honest with ourselves), but he’ll definitely argue.

- “Why do I have to be tied up so tight? I thought you just said I’ve been good?” “What do you mean I’m not allowed to cum? Why the hell not?”

- Takes his punishments like a champ. RE2 Leon not so much. Expect some crying and lots of aftercare, and he will be apologizing throughout.

- “M’sorry, I won’t do it again- I’ll be good from now on! Please stop!”

- “”hates”” being spanked. Heavy emphasis on those quotation marks.

Dom!Leon hcs:

- This man is a fucking TEASE.

- He’s not a hard dom by any extent of the word (once again, unless it’s someone like Luis who gets him all riled up), but he loves verbal teasing.

- “What’s the matter, princess? You want something?” “You wanna cum? Too bad, so sad. You’ll just have to wait.”

- You know all those dumbass one-liners? Yeah. He’s not above doing that to someone during sex. He will make puns, and he’ll do it shamelessly just to watch someone’s face contort in a mixture of laughter, disappointment, and pleasure.

- Will have his partner do little challenges every once in awhile. For example, keeping them stuck to a vibrator for a certain amount of time, and asking them to hold back their orgasm until he says so.

- Which brings me to toys. Leon is more than happy to do everything himself, but he will never be opposed to using vibrators, flogs, gags, whatever you want in addition to himself. He may be desperate for praise, but he’s not so insecure as to get jealous over a piece of plastic or silicone.

- As previously mentioned, he wants to take care of people so bad. Either sub or dom, he wants to feel like he’s doing a good job, and like he’s worth something to someone.

- No matter what type of scene it was, expect very soft aftercare. He’ll leave kisses on each sore wrist and ankle, and walk his partner through every step of the way as he gets them a water, cleans them up, etc.

- “You did so well, I’m so proud of you.” “Here, honey, let me hold you until you catch your breath.” “It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you.”

Bonus hcs - Ashley

- To be entirely honest, I’m not a fan of Ashley in a sexual context, nor is it something I think of.

- But she’s definitely not an innocent little woman like Capcom may have portrayed her as in the original.

- She may have a reputation to uphold as the president’s daughter, but let’s be real, this is a grown ass adult, and despite her situation in the fourth installment she had her eyes on Leon from minute one.

- Of course, when they first met she was more concerned with getting out of that church alive (as was her savior), but once they got a minute and she saw those muscles?

- Holy hell. That’s about all you can say.

- I don’t ship Leon and Ashley whatsoever personally, but if they were to be intimate I feel like it would be to blow off steam. Maybe calm their nerves for a bit while they’ve got a moment alone and momentarily safe.

- No BDSM dynamic, but Leon would definitely take the lead.

- “Let me take care of you, Ashley.” Whispered in her ear and she’s GONE.

- He would definitely eat her out, and they’d better hope there are absolutely no enemies nearby otherwise the whole village will be on their backs. She is loud.

- Leon likes his partner to be loud. It makes him feel accomplished. Win-win.

[let-us-cultivate-our-garden]

I swear... Belos deserved so much more....

Lowkey...I want Odalia Blight to end up with a much better husband/business partner and being a capitalist queen. (I see her getting with either Honsou/Perturabo)

Cause here's the damn thing... Alador gets too little flack for what he did... and just cause he stood up for Odalia... he really didn't do shit. Hell... It would be better for them to cut off BOTH of her parents.

TBH, it would be funny for Luis to try and "the friendship is Magic" shit on Perturabo (who would NOT listen to any of that nonsense) or Belos somehow getting somebody like Konrad Curze and uses him to hunt down Eda. Or Lorgar getting in, KILLING Belos and making thing WORSE.

I answered a similar ask about Odalia here.

Belos definitely deserved better writing because he's the main villain yet the show did a poor job of making the coven system actually oppressive and the coven scouts are just mooks that can quit their job with zero repercussions. This just makes Belos look bad as a dictator and a villain. Plus, there's his implied backstory and narrative foil with Luz that was stripped of all nuance and ends with "you're a good person because your motives are pure and not a power-hungry meanie."

As for Odalia, she didn't need to be deep but she didn't need to be so basic either. She's largely a caricature that doesn't really have anything meaningful to say about how capitalism supports oppressive regimes but the show isn't about that. So we have the abusive mom who tries to mold her daughter into her own image. Great concept, really lazy execution, especially since once Amity meets Luz, she doesn't really struggle with the expectations of her mother with the freedom her new crush provides.

As for Alador, he was implied to be on equal footing with Odalia and on the same page as her only to be retconned as a distant father who is "redeemed" once he stands up to his wife. Guess we're not going to address those years of emotional neglect. Also, Amity for some reason gets into engineering when she never really displayed an interest in that before. So instead of becoming like her mother, she turns into her dad. Great work, team.

(Also, I don't know who those other characters are you mentioned. I don't play video games).

[idyllcy]

from one admirer to another : boiled?

pairing: leon kennedy x reader || masterpost: from one admirer to another

synopsis: from one admirer to another, an online penpal service, allows for two people with common interests to write to each other without ever revealing their actual address! Luckily for both you and Leon, you get matched up! What do eggs and Christmas even have in common anyway? sure hope it's that modeling business and NOT that Ada Wong addiction.

featuring: reader as scrambled eggs // leon as christmas

Dear scrambled eggs,

My letter's going to be shorter than usual today. Sorry in advance.

Sesame bun sounds adorable. I like the little artist rendition graced upon my letter haha. Little cutie. She sounds like the sweetest little thing, but I can't imagine the house being pitch black and hearing something meow at you from the abyss. Though, I'm sure that isn't much of a problem in Raccoon. The district that you live in sounds like it's downtown.

Tell you about my friends... well, I entered the agency at the same time as Claire (Chris' sister, also another rising model) and we did a bunch of shoots together at first. We bonded over our love for bikes at first, and then through her, I met Chris and then Jill. I wouldn't say we're super close, but we're friends. (I hope)

I don't have anything to send to you, but I did manage to snag an invitation to the runway show coming up from all Raccoon city models. It's an annual thing, and everyone signed under the Raccoon city companies walk. I'm one of the first walkers this time around, so I really hope you can come watch.

Please? Christmas

Everything passes in a blur.

Leon is dressed and decorated, makeup perfect on his skin as he hangs around the backstage of the event while everyone files in. Three changes of clothes, most of which are sponsored by upper brands. He hasn't gotten a brand deal yet, but there have been people reaching out already.

"You alright?"

"Just the usual nerves." Leon sighs.

"Never gets old." Jill sighs. "Claire?"

"I think I'll be fine. I'm in the latter half with Chris, so at least I'll be walking with someone I know."

"You're allowed to have fun this walk too." Jill nods. "Find a partner to do the final walk with when all the investors are gone."

"You have someone?" Leon raises a brow. Claire's obviously going to run out with Chris.

"Carlos."

"Ah, right." Leon mumbles. "In the corner of his eye, he catches you, and he excuses himself with a stumble. God, being in love is crazy.

"... so I threw a fit at her manager because WHAT DO YOU MEAN I CAN'T WALK WITH HER?!"

"Sorry, princesa. I'd walk with you, but my contract states I've got to be alone on all walks. Gotta keep up the ladies' man thing."

"God, I hope Ada's manager burns in hell. I'll be her manager or something. What do you mean you need her to walk with Wesker even when it's just the normal models? Piece of sh—"

"Mind walking with me, then?"

Leon's voice makes you jolt, stumbling as Luis steadies you.

"You scared me." You sigh, nodding at Luis as he smiles. "What?"

"Walk with me?"

"You're not bound under contract to walk alone?"

"Not at the end. They didn't push the bachelor title onto me. I joined after they stopped that."

"Great! Let's run out together at the end." You give him a thumbs up.

"Problem solved?"

"Nice doing, sancho." Luis winks, and Leon ignores it, nodding at you before rushing to his position.

"Did they agree?" Claire raises a brow knowingly, and Leon groans.

"Yeah."

Leon forgets how his walk went. He knows he did a good job from the look of the investors and his agent, but that's about it. Even when he goes for a second and third walk out in different clothes, everything is muscle memory and not conscious. All he can think of is running out with you at the end. Was it a little bit childish of him? Maybe, but he would be walking with you.

He's never been so glad male-female relationships are so normalized in his company.

"Ready?"

"Yeah." You tug at the clothes given to you for the final walk, adjusting Leon's to match as they call out the pairings. People walked alone, but it was a little sad to walk alone unless you were given the title of bachelor.

"How big are your steps? We need to match pacing, no?"

Leon meets eyes with Ada before she's out with Wesker, and he swallows at her side-eye. She doesn't like him all that much, he thinks.

"Don't worry about her." You laugh, patting his bicep. "She's just angry she can't walk with me."

"No, that was definitely a warning to stay away from you."

You tap your chin. "Maybe. But that's only because she cares about me. Don't worry, she doesn't hate you."

"Leon Kennedy!"

"Let's go." He offers you his hand, and you mock a bow, letting him tug and spin you around the runway. For extra drama, he dips you at the very end of the runway to earn a laugh from you, letting the two of you waterfall to the sides as everyone else files to the front for a selfie.

America's sweetheart, Ashley Graham, ends up at the very front of the crew, taking the .5 as she manages to get everyone in the photo, numbers and photos sent to each other as Ashley goes around asking who wants it.

Leon steps up, nodding. "Thank you."

"Of course! Leon, was it? I think I joined a little after you."

"Yeah. Am I that recognizable?"

"More or less. You don't exactly have a face that blends in."

"I suppose." Leon thanks her as the photo is sent to his, and the rest of his friends file over for the photo too.

Oh, he should take the chance to— where did you go?

prev letter : masterlist : next letter

[autisticlancemcclain]

The boy is young.

Marcela is concerned.

“What you are is nosy,” Miguel says.

“Blah, blah,” Marcela responds like the elegant lady she was raised to be, peeking through the blinds to watch as the boy struggles with several bags full of groceries. She frowns. “Look at him, Guelos. He’s still so young that he takes one trip with ten bags. He’s — a child, practically. A baby. With a mortgage. Who authorized this?”

Her husband sighs, pushing his chair out to come stand next to her. She opens the blinds a couple millimetres wider to help him see, leaning into the hand he places on her back.

“We were young too, you know. No older than him the year you were pregnant with Luis.”

Marcela frowns at him. “Yes, but we were young together. We both had savings, and jobs. I’d been practically raising my siblings for years, at that point. You’d been working since you were twelve. Times were — different, Miguel.”

She turns back to the window. The boy, who just moved in a few days ago, is standing on the small veranda, staring at the door. He looks down at his hand, laden with bags, and then back at the door. Marcela has to bite her lip to keep from smiling, despite her worry.

Miguel slides his hand across her shoulders, pulling her close and pressing a lingering kiss to her head. She closes her eyes, leaning into it, curling her fist at his sternum.

“Times have changed,” he agrees softly, words muffled against her skin. “We’ll keep an eye on him.”

“Okay,” she breathes. She watches over her husband’s shoulder as the boy finally gives up, dropping the groceries to the ground and digging around his pockets for his keys. It was funny before, but he looks so — defeated. Sad. Like this was the frustrating cherry on top of an already difficult day.

Or maybe she’s reading into things. She watches until he finally gets inside, door closing forcefully behind him, and she knows in her heart that she will not be able to leave it be.

———

Marcela is nosy.

“Why are we here,” Lancito whines, trying and failing to pull away from her hand.

“Because we are being neighbourly,” Marcela responds primly. She sees him stick out his tongue from the corner of his eye and decides to let him have it.

“You just want to see the inside of the new guy’s house,” he mutters.

Marcela’s jaw drops, because how the hell did that little brat know that, but before she can say anything the lock turns and she schools her face quickly back into her brightest smile, slightly strained. Lance, suddenly shy, hides behind her legs.

“…Hi,” the boy says. He looks — wary, slightly, but not too uncomfortable.

Marcela takes it for the win it is.

“Hello,” she says, softening considerably. The boy reminds her sharply of her brother. He had that same look to him, the eyes of someone older than he is; the posture of someone who seems to simply understand the world on a deeper level. His slight, awkward smile is identical, as well. She has to blink back tears, heart aching in missing him. “I’m Marcela. I live next door. These are for you.”

She holds out the plate of tostones, covered in aluminum foil. She’d originally had them in a container, but then worried that he’d feel pressured to wash and return it. She moved the tostones from the plate to the container so many times that Marco had walked over from where he was doing his homework, grabbed her hands, guided her gently to the side, and fixed the plate up himself. Miguel had laughed until he cried, because apparently he’s hankering for a divorce. (He’d laughed harder when she’d said that.)

“Oh.” The boy blinks, surprised. He stares at the plate for a moment, wary look on his face replaced with something like confusion.

“They’re tostones,” Lancito offers, peeking out from behind her. The boy startles, looking at Lance with wide eyes. Lance takes his awkwardness for ignorance. “They’re squashed plantains that are fried. Plantains are like bananas but better. Mamá makes them really good.”

Slowly, the boy reaches out and grabs the plate. He peels back the aluminum foil slightly, peeking inside.

“They look good,” he agrees, voice soft.

Lancito scoffs. He steps out from behind her, offense making him brave, but still hold on to the hem of her shirt. “Um, duh. They’re tostones.” He looks hungrily at the plate. “Mamá spent all morning making them and we didn’t get any. You must be her favourite neighbour or something.”

“Leandro-Agustín,” Marcela hisses, cheeks flushing. Lance only stares back at him with a puzzled expression, hand raised in a universal, what?

Luckily, though, the boy doesn’t seem to notice, or if he does he doesn’t say anything. He only slowly peels back the aluminum farther and offers the plate towards Lance. Lance looks back at Marcela, questioning. Marcela sighs.

Quickly, so she doesn’t change her mind, Lance snatches the closest one and shoves it in his mouth. The boy’s small smile gets a little bit bigger. He picks up his own tostone and takes a bite, inclining his head after swallowing.

“You were right,” he says. “They are delicious. Thank you, Mrs. Marcela.”

“Just Marcela is fine,” she assures.

The boy hesitates, face twitching. “I don’t think I can physically do that,” he says politely. “I can feel my grandmother rolling in her grave.”

Marcela snorts. “Alright, fair. I can live with the formalities, I suppose.”

The boy has the same tiny smile again. It brightens his eyes, makes his whole face look younger.

“I’m Takashi,” he says. He goes to offer his hand to shake, but there’s only —

The stump of his right arm twitches. The boy — Takashi — stiffens. Marcela watches, despondent, as his expression shutters, and he steps back.

“Thank you for coming,” he says robotically. “I appreciate the food.”

Marcela knows a dismissal when she hears one. She anguishes, once again, in the privacy of her own mind, just how young this kid is. Barely older than Luis.

“I’m right next door,” she says softly. Lance, ever observant, watches the two of them closely. “If you need anything, Takashi, let us know.”

The boy nods stiffly. He closes his door without another word. Marcela sighs.

“You’re gonna need another plate of nosy food,” Lance observes. “Or maybe you should invite him for dinner, and then he’ll invite you for dinner. That might work better.”

Marcela guides them down the steps and back to their house, kissing him gently on the head. “I think you’re right, mijo. You wanna help me make some cookies?”

They’ll get there.

[gwiyeounsonyeon]

Growing Pains (MWC Day 7!)

Pairing: RE2 Leon Kennedy x Male Reader Summary: College AU! Your life kind of sucks but at least you have your job. Words: 1,693/200 Warnings: Nothing Happens! Not Edited! Notes: So far this first part is just me world-building and getting the feel of everything. Im hoping to turn this into a series, this is also an apology for the joke of a "fic" I left you with yesterday. Im on some new ADHD meds so I hope it's going to keep getting easier to be motivated. I actually enjoyed writing this.

Navigation | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

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You were really starting to doubt walking to work was a good idea, It had stopped sprinkling outside and had turned into a full-on downpour. Earlier at home you’d reasoned with yourself that walking to work was a great idea and that the roads were probably icy from all of the rain you’d gotten yesterday. Yet, here you were; nearly soaked and not even halfway to the coffee shop you worked at.

Your shoes were starting to squelch and your socks were drenched, you just prayed that today would be slow so you could leave early and sleep. But If you did you’d probably feel bad leaving your co-worker, Claire, she was a good kid, pretty and sweet and really good with the customers. If she was working, everyone knew they'd be getting good tips, she was only a few years younger than you, and a freshman in the same college you attended. 

She always seemed happy and well-rested when she came in so you assumed she never had a ton of schoolwork. You finally arrive fully soaked to the bone and shivering, the lights inside are already on so you assumed Claire had gotten there first, how she’d gotten a key you really have no idea. The shop was small, located conveniently only a block or two from campus but you'd long since moved out of the dorms and into your own apartment. 

You probably wouldn't say your entire freshman year was awful but your dorm mate had been a lively Spaniard going by the name Luis. The man was funny and helpful but he would have been way more funny and helpful if he had been dormmates with someone else. He’d made your entire freshman year seem like one constant headache, his incessant yapping, smoking, and partying had been the candles atop the cake of stress that was your first year of college.

When he asked if you wanted to room together your second year, you’d lied and said you already had an apartment lined up. He caught you in that lie, and when you were rushing to get an apartment (and a job) he had ‘accidentally’ dropped a flier for a one-bathroom studio a few blocks from campus, he’d ‘coincidentally’ been neighbors too. You look back in the direction you came from dreading when Luis wakes up and would eventually wander into the shop. 

For some unknown (most likely paranormal) reason, Clair actually liked Luis, not having been subjected to his torture for a year, she said she found him weirdly charming and funny and they got along surprisingly well. Naturally, with their big-mouthed extrovertedness, they told each other absolutely everything, meaning Luis would have some choice words to say about your predicament later.

You huff and walk inside, already feeling a migraine coming on, your shoes track in water as you squelch into the back room. Claire looks up from her locker alarmed at the ungodly noises your shoes were making; it was  a mix of wet rubber souls on the glossy linoleum and the sloshing of your shoes holding more water than the ocean. She takes in your appearance, her eyes crinkling at the sides as she tries unsuccessfully to hide a laugh.

She gives you the dignity of hiding behind her locker door to cough out a short poorly disguised chuckle before composing herself and looking back up at you “The hell happened to you?” She squawks still trying to hold in a laugh. You can't really blame her and you dont, if the roles were switched you know you'd laugh at her too. “I walked.” it’s all you have to say for her to break into an unflattering cackle, 

She laughs and points as you flop onto a plastic chair to peel off your water-logged shoes, you pour the water out in the filthy mop bucket while making a promise to yourself to get new water in there before your shift is over. You get up to drop your sad wet shoes over the vent and then peel off your drenched socks, dumping them onto the vent next to your shoes with a gross slap.

For some reason Claire seems to find all of this incredibly funny, she’s leaned back dramatically against the lockers clutching her belly as she howls with laughter. You look over at her wholly unamused and sigh before padding over to the lockers, thankfully the workplace is prone to messes so you always keep a spare uniform at work. You pull the folded clothes out of your locker and fetch a pair of crocks from your manager's locker, 

Your manager, Jill, was a well-respected (and feared) hard-working woman. She’d been the manager for nearly as long as she’d worked at the shop, her great work ethic and no-nonsense attitude had gotten her noticed by a lot of people in higher positions. When you were hired at the shop she was finishing up her junior year and getting ready to transition into a senior, she was a lot easier to talk to and get along with,

Because of that the two of you clicked quickly and ended up with a lot of hours together. As time went on though, the two of you were getting more and more stressed, and dogpiled with work until you were both working fewer hours with different people. She still tried to keep in contact; always texting to ask you how your morning was or what you were up to, it was sweet and it made you happy when she texted, part of you was enjoying the feeling of having someone dote on you like this.

Your phone alarm chimes, reminding you that you only have a few minutes left until the store has to open, you can hear Claire leaving the break room to tidy up the eating area and wipe down the tables and counters. You quickly slip on a dry pair of socks and Jill’s crocks before making your way to the front of the shop to unlock the store and turn the open sign on, opening wasn't your favorite, 

But recently you’d been pulling all-nighters to get your work done so by the time you needed to get into work you were already awake, you worked in a coffee shop so you had everything you needed to keep yourself up for the day. Your routine is as natural as breathing at this point, blending the hours into one, you have no idea that it’s already lunchtime until the lunch regulars start pouring in. 

The sweet old Marine Biology professor is first to come in, she’s well over sixty but she acts like she’s still young, ordering a single shot of expresso heavy on milk and sugar, a tuna sandwich, and a cookie. She’s definitely your favorite regular, polite, and tips well, she always leaves with a bright smile on her face like she’s happy to be alive, it's infectious. The other regulars aren't all that notable, a few professors and students needing a pick-me-up to get through the rest of the day. 

The only other customer that sticks out is another student, he’s about Claire’s age, and by the way they act around each other, they're definitely friends. Claire always waits to take her break when he comes in, she gets the same sandwich and always pays for his cookie, if you weren't any smarter you'd think they were dating but you notice the way his eyes linger in your direction, 

You’ve picked up how he always comes in when you’re working. He’s helplessly obvious but you dont have the heart to confront him, he's always got this cute lost puppy look on his face when you take his order, helplessly stumbling out his words and blushing like a high school girl. You pretend you dont notice and play dumb every time Claire tries to play matchmaker purely because it's cute watching him fumble, and you’ve never claimed you’re not selfish.

Part of you wants to wait until he grows the balls to come up and confess but the other part is just content to watch him suffer like this forever- “I thought you left in different clothes, what happened to your sweater?” You’re pulled out of your thoughts by satan himself, Luis picks at your new shirt and pouts like a dejected child, “None of your business.” You brush his hand off, 

Not surprised he knew what you were wearing earlier, you tap the screen of the register having memorized his order; the same boring coffee with the same boring bagel. You can't help yourself, you try to keep quiet but you like teasing Luis back, he deserves it, “Keep eating carbs like this and you’ll get fat.” You’re not trying to be an asshole and he knows it but it doesn't stop Luis from acting like it was a personal attack. He feigns heartbreak as dramatically as he can, 

Catching the attention and stares of the other customers, you can tell Luis is about to double down but Claire swoops in and drags him off to her table along with his food. Most of the customers go back to their food but a few eyes linger between you and Luis, you roll your eyes and get back to work, not really, there's nothing much for you to do anymore, the lunch rush slows everything down, you look down at the time on your phone making sure your shift is nearly over before you disappear into the break room to refill the mop bucket and check on your clothes. 

Your clothes are sort of moist and have a weird rain smell, your socks have dried weird and your shoes should be ruined, but you dont really have the money to get a new pair. Hearing your other co-worker arrive you tuck Jill’s shoes back into her locker and put your shoes back on, you cringe as the squelch and water seeps out of the foam and into your socks, you shuffle awkwardly back to the front and clock out before hurrying out of the shop, not sparing anyone left in there a goodbye.

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ADDITIONAL NOTES! //skip this if you dont care//

Let me know if you like this new format(?) its a lot more low effort than anything I've tried in the past, just coloring some things and putting little text dividers.

ALSO, Let me know if you want me to continue writing gender-neutral or just not being gender specific, I find writing from this perspective to be super easy but so far it's been pretty difficult incorporating gendered things into this style (not that I've tried)

you can either comment, ask, or dm, its up to you