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#one of the best parallels i could ask for
ruporas · 1 year
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drank too much
[ID: Digital Art of Vash and Wolfwood from Trigun Maximum. Vash’s body is turned slightly away from the viewer as he holds a staggering Wolfwood by his shoulder. He has one foot ahead of the other, the foot in the back used to stabilize himself from tipping over. Wolfwood is tethering into Vash, his weight pressed into him with his arms wrapped around Vash’s waist and his face is hidden away as he leans against Vash’s shoulder. Vash’s expression can be seen, his eyes wide and mouth tight-lipped, and his face is flushed red. A speech bubble comes out from Wolfwood, saying a drawled “Spikeyyy...”. The background are desaturated pastels of blue and green, showing night time, as they stand in the middle of an empty street that is also lit by the moon not depicted. Yellow light is seen coming from the inside of a saloon. End ID]
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paarthursass · 2 years
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that post where it’s like “loving the character for the potential they had and not what the writers actually did with them” is me with adam from season 4 of buffy
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grasshoppergeography · 7 months
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Hey All,
I've been away for some time, as we've been working really hard on something quite exciting:
let me present to you the world's first ever global ocean drainage basin map that shows all permanent and temporary water flows on the planet.
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This is quite big news, as far as I know this has never been done before. There are hundreds of hours of work in it (with the data + manual work as well) and it's quite a relief that they are all finished now.
But what is an ocean drainage basin map, I hear most of you asking? A couple of years ago I tried to find a map that shows which ocean does each of the world's rivers end up in. I was a bit surprised to see there is no map like that, so I just decided I'll make it myself - as usual :) Well, after realizing all the technical difficulties, I wasn't so surprised any more that it didn't exist. So yeah, it was quite a challenge but I am very happy with the result.
In addition to the global map I've created a set of 43 maps for different countries, states and continents, four versions for each: maps with white and black background, and a version for both with coloured oceans (aka polygons). Here's the global map with polygons:
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I know from experience that maps can be great conversation starters, and I aim to make maps that are visually striking and can effectively deliver a message. With these ocean drainage basin maps the most important part was to make them easily understandable, so after you have seen one, the others all become effortless to interpret as well. Let me know how I did, I really appreciate any and all kinds of feedback.
Here are a few more from the set, I hope you too learn something new from them. I certainly did, and I am a geographer.
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The greatest surprise with Europe is that its biggest river is all grey, as the Volga flows into the Caspian sea, therefore its basin counts as endorheic.
An endorheic basin is one which never reaches the ocean, mostly because it dries out in desert areas or ends up in lakes with no outflow. The biggest endorheic basin is the Caspian’s, but the area of the Great Basin in the US is also a good example of endorheic basins.
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I love how the green of the Atlantic Ocean tangles together in the middle.
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No, the dividing line is not at Cape Town, unfortunately.
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I know these two colours weren’t the best choice for colourblind people and I sincerely apologize for that. I’ve been planning to make colourblind-friendly versions of my maps for ages now – still not sure when I get there, but I want you to know that it’s just moved up on my todo-list. A lot further up.
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Minnesota is quite crazy with all that blue, right? Some other US states that are equally mind-blowing: North Dakota, New Mexico, Colorado, Wyoming. You can check them all out here.
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Yes, most of the Peruvian waters drain into the Atlantic Ocean. Here are the maps of Peru, if you want to take a closer look.
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Asia is amazingly colourful with lots of endorheic basins in the middle areas: deserts, the Himalayas and the Caspian sea are to blame. Also note how the Indonesian islands of Java and Sumatra are divided.
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I mentioned earlier that I also made white versions of all maps. Here’s Australia with its vast deserts. If you're wondering about the weird lines in the middle: that’s the Simpson desert with its famous parallel sand dunes.
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North America with white background and colourful oceans looks pretty neat, I think.
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Finally, I made the drainage basin maps of the individual oceans: The Atlantic, the Arctic, the Indian and the Pacific. The Arctic is my favourite one.
I really hope you like my new maps, and that they will become as popular as my river basin maps. Those have already helped dozens of environmental NGOs to illustrate their important messages all around the world. It would be nice if these maps too could find their purpose.
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kerorowhump · 10 months
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"H-Hi... we're back home..."
"But... sergeant, what's going on? Do you feel sick?"
"Don't worry. How are the guests?"
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"I will be eternally grateful to her... if Lady Natsumi is leading the team that's in the kitchen I'm certain that our guests will appreciate it a lot..."
#ita dub#keroro#this adaptation choice is deeply interesting to me because it seems to be paralleling keroro and natsumi implicitly#as in. he trusts her leading skills with it deeply. an implication im not seeing in these subs#another thing that makes me think a lot is that when fuyuki asks how he feels. he replies to him not to worry#while the original im okay is obviously and visibly a lie. don't worry however implies that his status of health is unimportant and#shouldn't be focused on#they're saying the same thing in different fonts basically but i thought it was a neat thing#however the second part has more difference in that keroro is Deeply grateful for the fact natsumi chose to help him#''this is just wonderful '' is what it is... obviously... but him being grateful makes me think he wasn't expecting her to help him in the#situation and take the lead. and he trusts that she'll do a great job. which is obviously true in both#he is crying anything so it is something that touches him regardless of the dialogue#there is a focus on just natsumi specifically in the ita dub. the ''others'' are not mentioned at all#anyway take it for what it is ig#i mean these ita dub posts r mostly for me anyway to infodump to my friends who are english abt this series im watching in ita.#and archive neat differences no matter if i think they're better or worse or just different#no one has ever been this thorough in seeing what changes between the two versions in this anime i love so much#i found old forum posts about keroro ita adaptation and everyone was praising it as one of the best ones we've gotten#i feel like that is true and accurate. but i also wanna look deeper and deeper into it#i could just leave it as ''its pretty accurate!'' and it's true but youve also seen that in many ways. it's not. but it doesn't make it bad#an adaptation. by need and design. will never be like the original#nor should it aim to be. bc thats impossible and it would just become lackluster. i just.. have an intense interest in analyzing the choice#that were made when transposing this anime here. on all fronts. maybe no one gets it quite like me. but ive seen some appreciation and it#made me really glad. that people who dont even speak italian can know MY experience in watching the show#and then i can learn the intended experience or a closer version to it (subs are adaptation too! they wont be fully accurate!!!) and have#so much of it. different ways of it. to parse my best interpretations. it's so fun. erm anyways. enough talking. u dont get it probly#ive 👀 ppl criticize fuyukis voice but thats simone d'andrea hes a close friend to patrizio prata and they always did guys together in anime#dont be disrespectful to italian VAs ever or you will face my sword. unless i allow you specifically. like every1 pls say peridots VA sucks#it probably wasnt even her fault thats the director telling u to do something that doesnt work. it's so bad.#on the other hand i would lay down train tracks and die for stevens voice. riccardo suarez. the light in a dark tunnel. voiced yumyulack to
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mostly-imagines · 1 month
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So This Is Love
jason todd x fem!reader
aka you show each other what love is supposed to be like
4 in 1 blurbs
warnings: section 1: close-call panic attack for j, mentions of ptsd for j // section 2: implied sexual activity // section 3: mild angst w comfort // section 4: implied ptsd for j
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He feels like his heart might burst through his chest.
The nightmare wasn’t anything unusual for him, but it did feel particularly vivid tonight. It was more of a memory than anything, though. That same one that plays on a loop in his head throughout the night the more he tries to push it away during the day. It was the last thwack of the crowbar that had him jolt awake in bed.
You shift in your spot next to him, opening your eyes to see his rattled state. If he’d been in a clearer frame of mind he would’ve lied to you. He would’ve expertly leveled his breathing and told you everything was fine and to go back to sleep.
But instead, he looks over at you with wide eyes, chest heaving and shaking like he might start hyperventilating at any moment.
You shoot up from the bed, instantly on alert. This isn’t the first time he’s had one of these nightmares around you, so it’s not hard for you to guess where this is coming from.
“Jay? What’s—what do you need?” You know better than to try and touch him unprompted right now, you’ve panicked enough yourself to know that sudden contact only makes it worse.
“I—I can’t, I—” Now he really looks like he’s about to lose all control of his breathing.
You sit up further, moving onto your knees. “Here, let me—can I see your hand?” you ask gently, holding your own out.
He extends it to you without question, a tiny act of vulnerability that he couldn’t have dreamed of doing in this state before he met you.
You flip his hand over, palm-up and start tracing lines over it in the moonlight. You’re looking at his hand quite intently like there’s something very important on it. It’s enough to make him question what the hell you’re doing. 
“I can read palms.” You tell him, simply. 
“What?” His voice almost breaks, like he’s right at the edge of tears. 
“Yeah, my friend taught me. I can tell the future and everything.” You look up at him, fingers not stopping their trailing. “Do you wanna hear yours?”
All he can do is nod.
You smile and start to inspect his hand carefully, tracing over calluses and a few tiny scars. You draw your finger across the short, deep line parallel to his fingers.
“This one…see the way it curves upwards right there?” He nods. “That means you’re very resourceful and ambitious. Like a leader.” His breathing starts to slow as he watches you, trying to focus on what you’re showing him in the dim light from the window.
“And this one,” you trace the line that curves downwards in the middle, “This one says that you’re strong and stubborn, which I can confirm,” he huffs out a laugh. It’s little but it’s genuine. “But it also means that you’re resilient. You’re built to overcome things and bounce back even stronger because of them. Which I can also confirm.”
He leans forward, resting his forehead against yours. He takes in a deep breath, watching you draw patterns across the base of his palm.
The sensation soothes him in a way that he frankly didn’t know he could be soothed. He figures he usually can’t, except when it’s you. He tries to match your breathing, syncing up with you. If anyone else tried to get this close to him when he was on the verge of a panic attack they’d get punched, at best.
But you…you always know how to help him. He’s considered in the past that he did something really right somewhere down the line and you were sent to him as reward. He’d racked his mind for hours of every good thing he’d ever done, trying to find one that could explain your presence in his life. For anything that could explain why he deserved you. He poured and poured over every memory he could dig up but couldn’t find any good he’d ever done that surmounted to a single piece of the good in your heart.
There was a time when he would’ve thought—when he did think that you were only in his life to be taken away as soon as he felt safe. That would certainly be in line with previous experiences. But you showed him quickly that you have this way about you…it makes those loud thoughts in the back of his head shut up and just listen. Listen to your words, your breathing, your footsteps, your laugh…anything he could. Because it turns out, when he listens, he feels safe. 
He’s quiet for a long time, contentedly watching you work. He notices that at some point you’d stopped tracing the lines and began drawing designs instead. 
He breaks the silence after several minutes, softly commenting, “You don’t know how to read palms.”
“No, I do not.” 
But you continued to leave your invisible art on the palm of his hand just the same, both of you taking comfort in the sound of the other's breathing and the soothing feeling of each other’s skin.
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The radio plays lightly in the background, surrounding your night with soft ambience. You’re working at the cutting board with tomatoes as Jason leans against the counter next to you, having just finished getting the pasta set up on the stove.
His hands find your hips, resting them there as he watches you work over your shoulder.
“Watch your thumb.” He comments when the knife gets a little too close for his liking.
You shrug him off, “I know how to do it.”
He eyes the way the knife stutters as you cut through the tomato, slicing through not very cleanly at all. “Doesn’t look like it.”
You ignore him, elbowing him gently in the abdomen. He’s joking, but he’s not. The skill level you’re displaying is only above Bruce and slightly below Tim, which is not great.
“Will you let me do it?” he asks you when he realizes there’s going to be no improvement. 
“Fine.” You relent with faux annoyance. 
You switch over to the stovetop, keeping a careful eye on the pasta as it cooks. It’s quiet for a moment as he works, chopping with much more efficiency than you had.  
“You didn’t have to stay here tonight, you know.” You say quietly, still intently watching the stove.
In spite of the music, your low volume does nothing to faze him as he continues his actions, “Why wouldn’t I?”
You stir the contents of the saucepan around. “Well, I know Roy wanted you to go out…”
“Not missing much.” He mumbles, opening up the above cabinet to get out plates.
You lull your head to the side, “Come on, he’s your best friend.”
Jason frowns. “He’s not my best friend.”
You turn your head towards him, “No?”
He meets your gaze, frown consistent. “No. You are.” He says it like he’s confused that you don’t know that. 
“Oh.” You smile, “You’re my best friend too.”
His eyes soften at that, a light smile gracing his lips. He knew that, and he knew you’d say it, but hearing it out loud just…does something to him.
You flick the stove top off, prompting him to on instinct reach for the Marinara jar and crack it open for you. He hands it to you and you accept with a smile, twisting it open the rest of the way as you turn back to the stove. The jar sputters as you open, spitting out sauce.    
“Oh, shit.” You hiss, when the splatter hits your shirt.
He takes one glance at the mess on your shirt and pulls his own shirt off his back. He’s tugging yours off just as fast, replacing it with his. You’ve barely processed what happened as he scans your body, eyes lingering on where his shirt stops at your thighs. “Can you wear this to bed tonight?” He asks, hands running over your waist.
You laugh, “Really?”
He meets your eyes, face serious. “Yes.” He squeezes your hip, “You look good.”
“In your shirt.” You say with a knowing smile.
“In my shirt.” He confirms.
You turn back to the stove to dish out the salsa, his hands skimming around your thighs as you do. He watches you as you work, though rather than watching your hands he’s fixated on the size of his shirt over you and how fucking good you look right now. 
“Or…” He sweeps his eyes over your legs before looking back up at you again. “Did’ya turn the stove off?”
You tilt your head at him, “I did…?”
He grins at you, lifting you up by your thighs til you’re a head above him. “Good.” He maneuvers you over to the counter, setting you on top. He brings your wrist up to his mouth to press a delicate kiss before dropping to his knees.
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You’ve been laying in bed for at least three hours, bordering on sleep but never quite falling in. You and Jason had a little spat, though nothing insurmountable, it was still the biggest fight you’ve had to date. You’d tried going out (at night) to see your friend that was having a hard time, and yeah, you should’ve told Jason you were going. It was only five blocks, give or take, but in Gotham at eleven o’clock at night, it’s a risk to say the least.
You should’ve told Jason, you know. But he wouldn’t have let you go or would’ve insisted on putting hold on patrolling to accompany you. You always feel bad when he does that—people could be getting hurt somewhere because you needed your boyfriend to walk you down the street. Unfortunately, it didn’t matter in the end because he caught you red handed before you’d even made it a full block away. Of all the nights for him to come home early, it had to be this one.
He dropped down from the rooftop behind you and scared the absolute hell out of you, and you didn’t even have time to be relieved that it was just him because he was on you in a flash. 
“What the hell are you doing out here?” His voice was hard through the modulator, a rare tone for him to use with you.
“I just—my friend—” he sounded tired and angry, sure signs that he’d really not had a good night so far which was probably all the more reason that you shouldn’t have been out by yourself in the middle of the night.
“What are you—no! Go home. Now.” You would’ve, you really would’ve, but your friend called you crying about her boyfriend cheating on her again and she needed the in person support. 
“Ja—” You’d cut yourself off, “It’s down the street, it’s fine—” He dropped his shoulders in a huff and faced you dead-on. You didn’t need him to take his helmet off to know exactly how he was looking at you.
He dropped down and hooked his arm around the back of your legs, lifting you off the ground with no discernible effort. “Wha—”
He started walking before you were even fully planted on his shoulder, arm wrapping around your legs to hold you in place. 
“Hood! I am so fucking serious, put me down!” You swatted at his back and struggled in his grip, though in the back of your mind you knew it was a pointless effort. Even if you were a match in size, whatever mood he’d been pushed in was enough to guarantee that you had no chance. 
He ignored you, not even pretending that you were giving him any difficulty with your squirming. He marched you back down the block to your apartment, not stopping until you’re outside your door. He set you down in between him and the entrance, digging into his pocket for his key.
He kicked the door shut behind him, finally letting you go. He wordlessly grabbed one of his spare guns and two cartridges of ammo from inside the closet by the door and turned back to you with a firm stance. “Stay here.”
You immediately tried to push past him again, at that point more angry about him dragging you back here than about having to duck out on your friend. He stopped you, holding you by the arms, which led you to respond by raising your voice at him, “Jason!” 
But he didn’t waste any time letting you know how it is, “I will lock you in this fucking apartment. Stay. Here.” Him cursing at you like that was very rare and not a particularly good sign, so through your anger you’d made the decision that it was better to relent, for now. Your posture dropped and you frowned at him resentfully, a visible cue that you were giving in without you having to say it. 
He stayed true to his word and locked the door on his way out, though knowing you could easily unlock it from the inside. You’d trudged into your bedroom, slamming the door behind you.   
Now you lay on Jason’s usual side of the bed, partially because you do miss him, partially because the bed feels a little less empty when you can’t see all the empty space. You know he was just trying to keep you safe after what was probably a rough start to the night, so you feel less than great that you’d yelled at him.
Your dwelling over the memory is interrupted by a quiet creak of the bedroom door. You blink up at him blearily, “Jay?” You sit up, furrowing your brow. You didn’t even hear him come home. “What’s wrong?” You figure he must be hurt to come in here—it’s not unknown for him to sleep on the couch if he feels like he did something wrong or upset you.   
Your eyes attempt to adjust to the darkness, scanning over him for any injuries. He’s out of his armor and in his regular clothes which means he must have showered already. And you know from dozens of nights patching him up that he always tends to his injuries before showering.
This leaves you confused, as you look up at him, waiting for an answer. “I can’t…I don’t want to sleep without you.” He whispers, eyes on the floor. 
You shuffle back into your usual spot near the wall and hold your hand out to him expectantly. You’re still a bit cross with him, but you miss him too much to care right now.
It takes him a second to move, but he eventually lingers away from the door and makes his way to the bed. He takes your hand as he climbs onto the bed, letting go only when you lay down after him, staring up at the ceiling next to him. 
You weren’t entirely expecting him to wrap his arms around you and tug you into his chest. Somewhere in the back of your mind you’d assumed he would lay on his side and you on yours and that would be enough for him to fall asleep with. Instead, he tightens his arms and buries his face into the crook of your neck. You lay there in silence for a couple minutes, both thinking.
“You’re mad.” He mumbles into your shoulder after a while. You know he feels badly about the dispute, you knew it while it was still happening. As hard as he tries, he’s not very good at hiding his emotions. Not with you, anyways.
You shrug slightly. “Barely. I’ll get over it. This is more important.”
He picks his head up to look at you, “I love you. You know that?”
You wiggle out of his grip a bit, making him frown. You use the new space to flip over to face him, before placing his arm back around your waist. You peek up at him, looking him in the eyes, “I do. You know I love you. Even when we fight.”
He looks at you like he’s a bit thrown off by your words. “I’m sorry. It was just…it was a rough night…I—I’m sorry.” He tells you dolefully.  
You shake your head, frowning. “Don’t be. I should’ve texted you.”
“It—yeah. Please. I just worry about you.” He looks so sad and it makes you feel somehow worse.
“I know,” you whisper, “I’m sorry.”  
“Don’t be.” He kisses your forehead, not moving away after.
You feel like you can finally relax and your tense body doesn’t take long to slacken in his hold. Soon after, he does the same, both of you closing your eyes. You feel your heart slow and your mind starts to find a space of peace.    
Before you crash out, you mumble out, “I’m going to be a little passive aggressive in the morning, though.”
“I’d hope so.”
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Jason didn’t get it at first.
Honestly, he didn’t really realize that you noticed things about him that even he didn’t see.
Your neighbor was having their place remodeled and you knew there would be construction going on near your apartment all day.
Jason didn’t really care, planning to bury his head under the pillow and trying to sleep through it. You however, seemed very adamant about getting out of the apartment that day. You’d left hours before the construction crew had even gotten there, telling him it was a nice day out.
It was an alright day, but he let you have your way.
You held his hand as you walked down the street, looking into shop windows and commenting on things you think he’d like.
You led him into a book store excitedly, telling him about how the author he’d been binging had just published something new. He didn’t even know that.
You were browsing the sections, flipping through books as you went. You peered across the shop at a kid holding an absolutely massive pile of books, who was clearly struggling to keep them in his arms.
His mother tried to help him but he shook his head and strided away independently, albeit very slowly. The weight of the books though, did get the best of him, and you could tell by the quivering in his arms that he was going to drop them.
“Loud noise.” You said quickly, seemingly out of the blue. Jason turned to you, confused, before seeing the stack the books splat flat onto the ground. It was indeed a loud noise.
He tilts his head at you, though you’re still busy watching the little boy as he throws his head back in frustration.
“What was that?”
You look at him, “He dropped his books.”
“Yeah, I saw. But why—”
His question gets cut off by the kid bursting into tears, wailing. You turn back to look at him, your gaze getting caught by the new book you’d been telling him about. “Ooh!”
You grab his hand and pull him over with you, smiling widely when you have the book in your hands. The sight of you makes him feel so warm so fast that he forgets about the odd interaction all together.
A couple hours later, you sit outside a cafe and eat lunch together, his back to the road, you sitting diagnal to him.
He’s telling you about the shit Damian got in trouble for at school last week, holding your hand with his right hand and eating with his left.
“He thinks he’s not going to get expelled for pulling shit like that every other week, it’s ridiculous.” He says, tossing his napkin down on the table.
Your smile is wavers as your eyes move past his shoulder looking down the block before widening, “Car—”
The sudden noise startles him enough to make him visibly jump, hand flying to where his holster would be. He looks over at the fender bender, shoulders relaxing.
He turns back to you to find your eyes looking far more worried than they should. You seem to be scanning his face, looking for something and he’s about to ask you what’s wrong when it sinks in.
He does get scared by unexpected loud sounds, doesn’t he? He never really thinks of it until it happens, but his mind is trained to expect gunshots or crowbars making impact.
It doesn’t happen often, but it noticeably takes a little piece out of him when it does.
“You…” he tries, but falters. He’s not even sure he’s processing this right.
He’s never seriously tried to fathom that you love him half as much as he loves you, though love doesn’t feel like a strong enough word. He lives and breathes for you, you’ve become a lifeline he’d been stranded without for most of his life. But now you're here and you’re everything, you’re in his head all the time, in every emotion he feels.
He thinks he’s here for you, that he was brought back from the dead because of you. You can’t possibly understand how much his heart is full of you, he doesn’t understand it himself.
He knows you love him, he’s gotten that through his head. But he can’t get a grasp on the idea that he’s equally matched in the who loves who the most battle.
Do you really care that much about him to go out of your way to keep track of things that might startle him? He knows there’s a million things about you that are in the back of his mind at any given time, but surely you don’t operate that same way with him?
Do you?
There’s this burning in his heart that aches and it only gets stronger when he sees you looking at him like that. So genuine. With care, with love.
He squeezes your hand, “I love you. More than anything.”
The look on your face sinks back into that sweet, adorable look that he’s so used to and it makes him want to scream.
You smile that bright smile and it sends his heart rocketing into oblivion. “I love you.” You squeeze his hand back, “More than everything.”
He feels like his heart might burst through his chest.
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nkogneatho · 9 months
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۪۫❁ུ۪۪𝐖𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 °࿐
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—a/n: first thing i wrote after hiatus so still a bit rusty but i tried my best to deliver my emotions. If this gets good response, I'll do part 2. Not proofread. fem!reader
#mlist #taglist #art commissions
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𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎.𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐎𝐖𝐒
For someone who's so confident, Satoru for the first time found himself anxious, legs trembling in the wonderment of what his bext action should be. He was standing at the altar in his neat pale grey suit. All eyes were fixated on him. But that's not what made him nervous. It was how he would react when he sees you. And just then, you appeared like the fragment of his best intentions.
The wedding band started playing the theme. Your white flowy satin dress dancing to the rhythm of the wind. Your beautiful face concealed a little from the veil. You looked so perfect. And just when you finally reached the altar, you stood parallel to him, smiling and satisfied with his reaction. You've never seen him so engorged in something—or someone.
The minister asked him to proceed with the vows.
"Y/N L/N. I usually am the one to talk a lot. But for the first time, I am short of words." You smiled at him.
"I think it's crazy how I see you everyday, but somehow you still manage to take my breath away with how beautiful you are. I know I call myself the honored one...but trust me darling, I am nothing but a fish in your ocean. You...you are my everything. And when I say that, I mean it. I want you to know that if the world is ever against you, I'll be in the front protecting you with all I have. I love you so much, baby." It feels like he's choking on his words.
This man that just said thst he's at loss for words, proceeded to make you tear up with a poetry. You've never been love so much in life. It feels unreal. But you know it's all true when as soon as you say "I do" his lips are on yours, reminding that every touch you feel is real.
𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄
The hall was decorated with white lillies and tulips that you loved so much. People grooving and chattering to the background music. Soon it was time for the moment you've been waiting for. The dance. Your first dance with Geto. The lights dimmed and the spotlight hit the floor as you and Suguru walked into the bright refraction on the floor. The crowd dispersing away to give the newly married couple their full attention.
One of his hands was on your waist while the other intertwined one of yours.
Put your head on my shouuulder...
You both smiled wide as you couldn't have asked for a better song. This was the song that you once told Geto you'd like to dance to. Since then, he remembered to play twirl you around to Paul Anka at every occasion. And this one had to be the best one yet.
Hold me in your arms, baby...
He mouthed the words and you couldn't help but giggle. Suguru doesn't usually sing but he has this deep voice that blend perfectly to the song. It sounds like heaven.
"Get ready to dance to this every anniversary, my love," he whispered.
The room was filled with so many people. Yet, when your eyes recasted your signature "i love you" look, he suddenly felt the world disappear, and only you two exist.
That's when he realized, he really did get lucky when you fell in love with him.
𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍
As always, you woke up late. It's surprising how Toji looks like the one who'd be irresponsible when it's actually you. But hey! He can't complain about it. Weddings and Receptions are tiring. If he could, he'd let you sleep for one whole day if you didn't have a flight to catch. You quickly got dressed and rushed to the airport with your man.
The flight was awful since you were irritated by the snorer next to you. Trust me. You wanted to stuff the macadamia nuts in his nostrils but Toji stopped you from doing so. He had a better and more rational solution of putting headphones over your ears and playing you your favorite song. Your lips widened when his thumb started circling your thighs to calm you and make you relax.
Upon arriving to the hotel, you finally took a big stretch to wash all the tiredness away.
"IT'S HONEYMOON TIME, BABY!!"
You jumped in excitement and pretty much everyone at the entrance was staring at you and Toji. He won't stop you though. He loves watching you dance around everytime you're happy.
You both walked towards the receptionist, with Toji carrying all the luggage. Gotta use the big beefy man privilege baby.
"Good afternoon. How may I help you?"
"Good afternoon. We reserved a suite here a week ago."
"Okay. May I please know the name you reserved it under?" she asked.
"Oh it's Mr. And Mrs. Fushiguro." The moment those words left your lips, Toji felt his world shift. He knew that you were a Fushiguro when you signed the marriage certificate. He knew it when you said "I do" at the altar. He knew it when he placed the ring on your finger. But hearing it from your mouth made him have butterflies in his stomach. Wow. You are really his. He couldn't for one second believe it.
"So this is how heaven feels like," he mumbled.
"You said something, baby?"
"Oh nothing, my love. Just that you're beautiful "
"I'm running on four hours of sleep. My under eyes are darker than your black shirt," you whispered.
"I don't know what you're talking about. You're still the most beautiful person to exist," he argued and you just rolled your eyes. You genuinely wanted to know how he manages to find you beautiful at every occasion.
"Are you in denial?"
"No, darling. I am in love."
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Taglist: @sugurini @princess-okkotsu @saturnsoups @cookingforsatoru @oldbutnotold @rin-vana @bimbno @arisaturn @tojigasam @bxrnthyfears @gojoxxluv @seqeva @nanamikentoseyebags @stariwrites @sluttoru @lvmxn @greycaelum @kokonoiscoconut @deskaisers @icyowl @thesimphouse @anxious-chick @monimonieee @sweet-yzabelle @keichartreusely @arguablyferal @kannra21 @bbytamaki @rwibbnz @ta-ni-ya @mamayan @strawwbee @jesi-pinkman @fueledbysano @psychiccloudobject @baewriites @wystericwoes @his-saiko
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gogobootz1 · 6 months
Text
The Mentor
Finnick Odair x Reader
Summary: As a mentor, you do your best to help your tributes. When one of them turns into a victor, she knows just how to embarrass you in front of people you’d like to impress.
part two | part three
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You whisk through the backstage hallways of the filming center, wet hair whipping as you turn corners. You’re on a mission. Apparently your tribute, now victor, is having a total breakdown.
Your fellow mentor told you he could absolutely handle her post-games interview. Clearly not, though, since your phone wouldn’t stop ringing while you sat at the bottom of your shower. When you finally pulled yourself out of your stupor to answer it, the district ten escort was on the phone begging you to get down here and fix her. You thought she was exaggerating until your stylist came on and told you it was bad. At that point, you threw on the closest clothes you could find and flew out of the apartment.
Darla is a sweet girl, and you’ve grown quite fond of her. You busted your ass getting her sponsors. Every year you try your best, but you thought she had a good chance and she proved you right. Seeing her in the hospital bed, though, you knew she was different. You thought something like this might happen, but you didn’t think it would happen during your shower.
Rushing around another corner, you crash right into another body.
“Sorry!” You try to quickly remove your hands from where you’d steadied yourself, and sidestep this new obstacle.
“What’s the rush?” The obstacle won’t quite let go of you, though. Now interrupted from your task, you look up to recognize the person in your way. Finnick Odair. It couldn’t have been anyone else?
“Emergency,” you quickly dismiss, trying to get by him again. If you look into his eyes you will be thoroughly distracted. You generally try to avoid Finnick at all costs. His intense stare makes you rather nervous.
“Everything ok?” He raises a brow.
“It will be when I get through here,” you start to get antsy. You tend to accidentally default to short and rude with him.
He lets out a scoff of a chuckle, “you’re a tough egg to crack, you know that?”
You’re really not. The Capitol knows you as the gentle victor, who often visits classrooms and reads to children. You guest star on daytime Capitol tv, making some of your favorite recipes in your houses’s enormous kitchen. You’ve designed gardens and parks and are generally well liked here for your friendliness.
“Look,” you huff, “Darla’s in trouble.” This, at least, you know he’ll understand. “Let me through so I can help her.”
“That’s why everything’s been delayed?” He asks. He’s right, too. The time it’s taken you to get dressed, get a car, and get here is all time that Darla should’ve been on air.
“Finnick,” you snap.
He steps aside in an instant, “good luck.”
You breeze past him.
“Mother hen is a good look on you,” you hear from behind you.
“Shut up,” you bark over your shoulder.
Back on track, you quickly find the right door. Whipping it open and rushing in, the entire district ten beauty team turns to look at you. Their eyes are wide and they look quite upset.
“She’s been staring at the wall since before we called you,” the hairstylist whispers, quickly rushing up to you and taking your hand. You instantly tug it away, they are not your priority.
You breeze past them and slowly approach where Darla is sat. She faces away from you, and is curled up in a ball staring at the wall. Quietly, you sit parallel to her and enjoy a similar view of the wall.
“Hey, D,” you say quietly. Taking a slow approach will probably be more effective than trying to force her up. You’re certain the beauty team tried that approach, but quickly got scared.
She’s silent for a bit, “I can’t do this.” Her voice comes as a relief to you.
You hate what you’re about to tell her. You’d really rather whisk her away back to the apartments, but there’s not exactly another option here. “Look at me, honey, yes you can.”
“No, I-“
“Darla, you can.” You try to be firm, but it falls short.
“You don’t under-“
“Now I know you weren’t gonna say I don’t understand. Baby, I might just be the only one who does.”
Darla starts to cry, and suddenly she looks her age. In this moment she’s not a victor. She’s just a sixteen year old who’s been through far more than she should. You move from your spot to embrace her.
“I know, honey. I’ve been here. Sometimes I’m still here. I know. But they don’t- and they can’t.” You say as you hold her close to your heart.
“So what do I do?” You pull away to see her teary face. You rise to your feet and slowly pull her with you.
“We’re gonna clean you up, and send you out there good as new,” you say, trying to imbue some confidence in her.
Darla’s eyes widen in fear.
“Relax, honey, we’ve got time,” you wipe her teary cheeks. You wave the makeup artist over, as you sit Darla in a chair. “Now in the meantime,” you start, pouring a glass of water and forcing it into Darla’s hand, “I’m gonna tell you a story. How’s that sound?”
Darla nods reluctantly, taking in ice water through the straw. You sit on the glass coffee table in front of the girl as the makeup artist gets to work.
“Now this happened a looooong time ago- back when I was ten. It was a bright summer’s day on the ranch, and I was up nice and early when my Paw came up and told me he’d lost his wedding ring. Now, my Nana was an insightful gal- if she had noticed (and believe me she would’ve) she’d have pitched a fit.
So I was enlisted to help him find it. Well, we searched everywhere. All around the house, the garage- no luck. Finally, we headed out to the pasture. We were digging through manure, when suddenly my foot sank into a pothole and I went flying toward the ground. I landed face first in an enormous pile of shit. But that’s not the worst of it- ohhh no.
When I pushed myself off the ground, I saw my nana had come home. She’d brought four of her friends and all of their grandkids. That included little Jimmy Price, who I happened to be enamored with. (Not that I ever spoke to him since I was so shy.) And in that moment, my Paw, back turned to the whole thing, held up his ring and shouted ‘found it!’ Only to turn and find me covered in cow poop and his wife watching with all her friends.”
Darla smiles a bit at your misfortune, “so he found the ring in the poop?”
“Oh no,” you shake your head, “it was in his pocket all along.” Darla cackles this, nearly messing up the eyeliner her makeup artist tries to fix from her earlier tears.
“So what was the lesson in this fable?” Darla asks teasingly.
“Oh none,” you reply innocently, but a smirk grows on your face, “but at least you’re not heading out there covered in cow shit.” Darla grins and shakes her head, feeling up to the task now. The makeup artist nods at you and dashes from the room.
“Now honey,” you start, pulling Darla up from her chair, “you just blame your tardiness on me. Tell Caesar I was fawning all over you like a mother hen.” At least something useful came out of your run in with the Capitol’s darling.
Darla smiles a little, nodding. “And remember, just be your charming self- everyone here adores you,” you remind her. She seems a lot better now.
“Oh hey, where were you earlier?” Darla asks, about to head out the door.
“I’ll tell you when you’re older.” You tell her, smile dimming.
“Now you really sound like my mother,” Darla quips back, and you grin again.
With that, a stagehand pulls Darla away to where Caesar’s been waiting. There’s not much else you can do for the girl now. Out of your hands and into the Capitol’s. You can only hope Darla won’t freeze feeling all their eyes upon her.
You shouldn’t have been worried, though. Darla nails her post-games interview. The audience finds it adorable when the girl says she took so long because her mentor was fussing over her hair and her dress.
“You wouldn’t think it- but she’s a real mother hen.” Darla says, and you smile as you watch from backstage. The audience erupts into a gleeful sort of laughter at the comment.
Caesar knows just what to do with it, too, “well it’s no wonder, I’m sure you’ve made her proud!” Darla beams, and very convincingly so. “Let’s take a look back at Darla’s games!”
To your great relief, Darla holds it together through the recap. The girl gets boisterous applause as the leaves the stage, then comes flying into your arms once she’s out of sight. The force of it makes you stumble, but you quickly plant your feet and return the hug.
“You did great, kiddo,” you tell your tribute.
“Thanks!” Darla replies, speaking loudly from the adrenaline rush, “and thanks for telling me about when you face planted in a pile of cow poop back home, it really helped!”
Every single person milling around backstage turns to look at you when Darla says it. Not that the girl notices the extra eyes.
You drop your chin, trying to avoid the stares of these people. This is what you get for comforting her at your own expense. Taking a calming breath, you look up only to meet a pair of sea-green eyes.
Of course Finnick Odair heard that, and of course he’s smirking teasingly at you.
Like Jimmy Price all over again.
You stick your tongue out at him.
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I did not edit this so I hope it’s ok lmao. The new hunger games movie was great so ofc finnick’s been on the brain
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Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: friends-to-lovers, mutual pining, lots of parallels, reader is a lil down on herself but don't worry, eddie is down bad for her.
Warnings: swearing, mentions of weed and smoking, smut!! 18+, minors DNI.
AN: do i write 90% of my fics based on what pops into my head when i hear a certain song? yeah. also this is only half edited bc life. enjoy bbs <3
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“Okay, okay,” You laughed. “One more hit then I’m tapped out, Eds.”
Eddie grinned, speaking through a half-held breath. “Oh no, Sweetheart. New stuff hittin’ a little too hard?”
You inhaled deeply, passing back to him what was left of the joint. It went straight to your head, and you flopped back, laying comfortably on Eddie’s bed.
Eddie inhaled, following suit, making your body bounce as he hit the mattress.
“Shit,” he mumbled. “Feel like I’m fuckin’ flying.” He grips your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. “Don’t let me float away, okay?”
You smile at him, taking in how fucking beautiful he looks under the dim lights in his bedroom.
“Never. You’re stuck with me, Eds.”
He looks down at you, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. He took you in like he'd done 100 times before. Eyes trailing from your nose, to your eyes, landing at your mouth.
So fucking beautiful.
“Good," he breathes, pulling you in closer. "Just the way I like it.”
Eddie let go of you hand, only to wrap his arm around you and pull you into his chest. He placed a kiss to the crown of your head, "This okay?"
It's all I want. You think.
"Or do we have to get up and go watch that cheesy chick-flick I promised we'd watch.
You sighed, fiddling with the hem of your denim skirt. "I'd stay here all night if you let me."
That's all I want. He thinks.
Eddie leans back a bit, looking down at you. He's not sure if it's the weed making his so emotional, but he swears he could cry just looking into your eyes. "What am I gonna do if one of these dates you keep going on works out? What if someone takes you from me?"
He tries to sound relaxed, but the truth is, the thought keeps him up at night. There’s gonna be a guy that steals you away from him one of these days. Someone who can give you everything he can’t, someone brave enough to open their mouth and tell you just how much they love you.
and it'll crush him.
The laugh that escapes you is a cynical one, "Eddie, I've been on three dates with three different men, and I've gone home alone each time."
"So?" He asks.
"So," You scoff. "It means no one is interested in doing anything with me."
It’s true—to you at least. The guys you’d gone out with were either not looking to be tied down, or ran once they met you. The last guy thought you’d be easy because ‘the freak’s best friend has to be a freak herself right?’
The dates were a distraction for you. As your heart pined over the one guy you could have it all with, it was breaking too. Eddie hadn’t made a move on you—ever, and you weren’t brave enough too.
So the two of you sat in limbo, completely unaware that the other person was right there with you.
Eddie sits back, releasing you from his arms. "Why do you do that?"
"Do what?" You ask, sitting back as well.
"That. Act like you're the problem, and not these shitty fucking dudes you keep going out with.” Eddie tried to control his tone, but his temper got the better of him. He cursed at himself for it.
Jesus H. Christ, Munson, get it together.
You push back from him fully now, "Eddie, the common denominator is me. I-I'm fucking broken or something."
“Stop that.” He seethed.
It’s a command—a tone you've heard him use with Steve, or Dustin, but not you.
Never with you.
Eddie stood as you sat up, hanging your legs off the edge of the bed.
"What--"
He turned back and got to his knees right in front of you.
“Stop talking about yourself like that. It’s fucking ridiculous.”
He was close to you, and with him on his knees, his gaze was just at your eye level. “You’re not broken. There's nothing wrong with you, you’re—you’re fucking perfect.”
“Eddie…”
“No, no, just…just shush for a second.” Eddie moved his hand to your cheek, his thumb sweeping across it gently. “You think all this shit about yourself and it’s just not fucking true. I wish, for a second, you could see yourself how I see you. I fucking adore you.”
You feel the warmth of his breath on your nose. His large hand on your cheek warms you, and you lean into the touch, closing your eyes.
Everything is Eddie in this moment. He’s invading every sense you had.
It’s overwhelming.
You can feel your eyes brim with tears. “You don’t have to say that, Eds. I’m okay. I’m just…I’m lonely, that’s all.”
Eddie’s breath caught in his throat. He watched you, he saw the tears hidden beneath your lashes. How could you not see it? See how you were…everything to him?
His mind stopped for a moment, deciding whether or not to take the leap, to risk it all and not run for once.
Fuck it.
“I’m right here, Princess. I’ve been right here.” He leans his forehead on yours.
You exhale his name, “Eddie,”
“What,” he’s quick to ask. “What is it, Sweetheart?”
Your on fire with how close he is to you. But he doesn’t mean it, not in the way you hoped he would…does he?
Your eyes open, seeing his beautiful brown ones searching your face for some kind of clue as to what you’re feeling. You clasp your hand on top of his. “Please,” you beg. “Please don’t say things you don’t mean just to make me feel better. My heart can’t take it.”
He laughs softly, bringing his other hand up. He’s cradling your face gently, “Oh, Honey. You have no idea just how much I mean it.”
Eddie is overwhelmed with you. You’re everywhere, and he can’t fucking think straight. Probably a good thing right about now, because he’s about to do something he never thought he’d be lucky enough to do.
“Can,” he clears his throat. “Can I kiss you, Baby?”
With zero hesitation, you nod, earning a chuckle from Eddie.
“Gotta use your words, sweet thing.”
“Yes,” it comes out as a plea. “Kiss me...please.”
Warm warm warm.
It’s all you feel when he leans in. Then his soft lips are on yours, all the while he’s holding you as if you’d be the one to float away.
Eddie kisses you like he’s done it a thousand times. Like he knows your lips and the pattern that drives them crazy. He’s trying to tell you everything he’s been too afraid to say since the moment he met you.
There’s no one but you.
You’re everything.
I love you, please, let me love you.
Regrettably, you pull away. Breathless from the kiss, but also how surreal this moment is.
“I-I,” you sigh, touching your forehead to his. “I’ve wanted to do that for forever.” It comes out as whisper. As if you’d scare him away if you said it too loud.
Eddie smiles, a relieved laugh passing his lips. “Yeah?”
You nod, “Yeah.”
It’s quiet for a beat, Eddie is looking at you so softly and with such care.
“You’re so beautiful.” He says with all of the conviction in the world. “My pretty girl.”
“Am I?” You ask. “Am I yours?”
He nods, "If you want to be." He moves his hands, resting one on each thigh. He rubs them absentmindedly, likes he's trying to flatten the goosebumps that had prickled across your skin. “...and I’m yours. You've got me, Honey.”
Eddie's grin was still a shy one. You brush your hand across his face, pushing back any stray hairs. "Eds?"
He grips your wrist gently, placing small, tender kisses along the inside of it. The gesture is so simple, but it sends a heat through you like you've never experienced before.
"What is it, pretty girl? Whatever you want, whatever you need...it's yours."
You intertwine your fingers with his smoothly, "You, Eddie. Need you. Wanna make you feel good, Eds."
Now it was his turn to get goosebumps.
"Fuck, Angel. You can't just say that to me." He breathes.
Your bedroom eyes blink twice, "Please?"
A strangled moan vibrates from his chest, "Who am I to deny the fair maiden what she asks for?" Eddie stands, holding out a hand for you.
You're pulled to your feet by him, and he's looking at you through a brand new set of eyes. "One problem with that though, Princess. You come first."
You gasp as his hands take purchase of your ass, pulling you into him. "If anything, and I mean anything is too much, or too weird, you tell me, okay?"
You're nodding again, and he tuts at you. "Uh-uh. Words, baby."
Your arms fall around his neck and you press your body against his. "Yes, sir."
"Ho-ly-shit." He moans. "Yeah, I'm gonna kiss you now. Cool? Cool."
He's hungrier this time, kissing with teeth and tongue as his roaming hands explore your body.
"Eddie, Eddie..." You breath through swollen lips. "Too many clothes."
"You a mind reader or something?" He jokes, ripping the t-shirt from his body. His body was a work of art in more ways than one, and seeing it now, like this, made you crave it all the more.
You watch as Eddie falls to his knees, "Can I?" He asks, pulling at your skirt.
"God, yes."
He unbuttons the fastener, pulling the distressed denim down until it's pooling at your ankles. Eddie then came face to face with your black-lace covered heat.
"I-I'm dead right? I've died and now I'm at the pearly gates."
Your hands cover your face, "Eddie! Stop!"
He stands quickly, "No, baby, no. God, please don't hide from me." He pulls your hands away gently.
Your shirt is next to go, and so is the matching bra. Eddie pulls his pants down, leaving his boxers on.
"Lay down for me, Princess. Wanna take care of you.”
The timber of his voice makes you tremble. Once your comfortable on the bed, Eddie climbs on too.
“Now, I know this is all new, and we’re figuring things out as we go, but…” Eddie pauses, laying on his stomach between your legs.
He starts kissing his way up your legs. “I’ve been dreaming of eating this pussy for a long, kiss, long, kiss, long time.”
You’re so turned on you can barely speak, but you manage to get out a quiet. “Well what are you waiting for?”
Your thong is thrown into parts unknown, and Eddie starts to feast like a man starved.
“Eddie, fuck—“ his tongue explores your heat. His hands hold onto your hips as you grind down onto his mouth.
“Uh-uh, don’t hold back. Wanna hear you, Princess.” He dives back in, lips sucking on your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. He slips in one, the two fingers. Pumping and curling them slowly until he finds the spot that makes you see stars.
The fire in your belly is growing and you feel your legs start to shake. “Holy fuck, Eds—Eds I’m gonna cum!” Your hands take purchase in his hair, giving it a sharp tug as you feel the heat engulf you.
Eddie eats your pussy, drinking you in as you cum.
“Shit, I’m sorry!” You release your grip on his hair as you come down from your high.
Eddie crawls up your body, kissing you. You taste yourself all over his tongue. “Don’t be sorry, Baby. Let’s me know you’re enjoying yourself,” he kisses you once more. “Plus, I kinda like it.”
You’re both breathing heavy.
Now it’s his turn.
Your hands touch his shoulder, pushing him gently. “What’re you doing, pretty girl?” He asks softly.
When Eddie’s leaned back against the headboard, you pull his boxers off. Pink, uncut cock springing from it's confines.
God damn...he's fucking huge.
"Gonna ride you, Eds. Let you feel what you did to me." You climbed on top of him, "Can I do that? Can I make you feel good?"
Eddie's nodding, not sure what part of you he wants to look at more.
"Uh-uh," you tease. "Use your words, Handsome."
"Fuck," He breathes. He palms your bare chest, moving the pads of his thumbs over your nipples. "Do whatever you want to me, use me, I'm yours." He leans forward, hot mouth latching to your other breast.
You sit up, allowing Eddie's hard length to slip inside your aching cunt. The sheer stretch and size is enough to snatch the breath from your lungs.
"Eds...Eds, shit. S'big." You moan.
His eyes close as he bottoms out inside of you, "So tight. Fuckin' pussy was made for me, she wants my cock. Won't let it go. She greedy, baby?"
You adjust to his size filling the void inside you. Eddie hold your hips as you begin to ride him, helping you to keep a steady rhythm.
"Look at you, Princess. Cock-drunk already, hm?" He teases.
Eddie is whispering praises as he fucks up into you.
Such a good girl.
Taking me so well.
My pretty girl.
Mine.
Eddie's pace quickens, and you feel the tremble return to your legs.
"Eddie, fuck, I--"
"I know, Honey. I can feel it, feel you squeezin' me. Let go, Angel. Go on, cum for me."
His words are like a spell.
You cum harder than you did on his mouth, and this time, it's his cock that's drenched in your essence.
"Gonna cum, Sweetheart. Where--"
You're entirely lost in everything Eddie. "Inside me, Eds. Fuck, please cum inside me."
"Shit, shit, shit." Eddie's moves become erratic. Sloppy thrusts chasing his release, and when he does, he all but growls in your ear.
He's breathless and spent, but his arms wrap around you. Eddie holds you, softening inside you. He kisses the center of your chest, the trail making its way across your shoulder, up your jaw, and to your lips.
"Hi." He says quietly.
You giggle softly, "Hi."
"So uh, not sure if this is a good time or not..."
You kiss his nose, "Hmm?"
"I-I...I love you. I don't know, just felt like someone should tell you, might as well be me." Eddie's big brown eyes search your face for any sign of regret or discomfort.
Nothing.
You kiss him deeply, "I'm glad you told me, otherwise I'd be sitting over here, in love with you, looking all silly by myself."
Eddie holds you tighter. "You, you love me?"
You giggle, "Edward Munson. I love you."
He pulls you closer, "You love me." It's a statement now.
Eddie lays his head against your bare chest. "I'm gonna get you cleaned up in a second, Sweetheart. Just wanna hold you for a little."
Rubbing small circles on his back, you kissed the top of his head. "I'm not going anywhere, Handsome."
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snowfll · 6 months
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Hi! Can you write one about Tom Blyth and actress!reader where after filming a movie they grew closer and closer until finally one day Tom or reader or both confess their feelings for one another? Or maybe it can be them both being oblivious and everyone basically knows they’re in love until one of their costars helps them finally confess to one another? Thank you!
Baby, You're Perfect; Tom Blyth
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pairing - Tom Blyth x actress!reader summary - its easy to fall for Tom on screen and even easier to fall for him in real life words - 1.31k warning - js fluff! Tom's a cutie note - I tried my best! I hope you like it :3 idk why but the pictures aren't working. trying to fix it asap
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"You two are awfully close."
Although neither of you answered the question, the interviewer could sense the unspoken truth lingering in the air, revealed by the way both of you were flustered.
Working alongside Tom on a romance film created a bond that extended beyond the scripted lines. Having played his love interest on screen, the chemistry between the two of you was through the roof.
From the moment you sat down in your designated seat at the table, he caught your eye. You were curious to see how the chemistry read would play out. It turns out you two got along extremely well.
“Well, yes, seeing him every day has that effect; he’s such a sweetheart,” you confessed during the interview, a smile playing on your lips.
“Oh, don’t listen to her; she’s over-exaggerating," Tom interjected with a playful grin, emphasizing the chemistry within your off-screen dynamic.
He is a known gentleman, bringing you flowers every week on set—a thoughtful act born from the understanding of your love for them. The cast playfully teased him for it, drawing parallels from his on-screen character, who loved giving gifts to his girl. You adored his actions; no one had ever brought you flowers before.
As filming wrapped up, a sense of melancholy settled in, originating from the reluctance to part ways—you enjoyed your time on set. The days were a blend of shooting scenes or relaxing with Tom wherever you were, no matter what you were with him at all times.
Now that you were on the press tour for your film, you and Tom were closer than ever. The days were a whirlwind, going from interview to interview and then straight to the hotel to catch up on rest. The limited days off were cherished, offering you both a break from the spotlight.
Walking through different cities with Tom by your side became a treasured routine, despite the presence of paparazzi trailing your every move. Cameras flashed every time you went out with your hands intertwined, capturing moments that fueled rumors and speculations.
“Tom! Are you and Ms. Jones matching shoes on purpose?” A paparazzo called out, drawing attention to the coordinated footwear chosen during your shopping spree.
“Ms. Jones, do you have anything to comment on the dating rumors between you and Mr. Blyth?” another inquired. That is what most of them ask nowadays. Could they sense the feelings you had for your co-star? Ignoring the persistent questions, Tom guided you away from the crowd of cameras, seeking refuge in the waiting car.
“That was a lot,” he remarked after a few minutes of silence, his tone carrying exhaustion.
“It was. I can’t wait to get back to my hotel room.” He sensed something was off as you muttered your response. You were always able to hold a conversation with him; there was never a dull moment between you two. Though he knew you were tired from the day’s activities, he couldn’t help but wonder if he had done anything wrong.
As the car pulled up to the hotel, you hastily exited and rushed up to your room, leaving him behind. Guilt gnawed at you, but facing him after the intrusion of the paparazzi was a challenge you weren’t ready to tackle.
A few hours later, a soft knock at your door interrupted the solitude. You welcomed him in before crawling under the covers once again; there was no reason to ignore him.
“What’s going on, sweetie?” He looked at you with concern filling his eyes as he sat down next to you on the bed. “I know it's not because you’re tired; you’ve been napping for a while. Please talk to me." His genuine concern cut through the unspoken tension.
Once you didn’t answer, he grabbed your hand and pulled you out of bed. The two of you made your way to the door, where he handed you your shoes.
“Where are we going?” You questioned while standing back up, to which he replied by telling you your destination is someplace you would enjoy.
He dragged you all the way to the car and closed your door as you got in the passenger seat, like a true gentleman. The two of you drove around with the windows down, screaming along to your shared playlist.
“Are you feeling better, now?” He turned down the music, waiting to hear your answer. “I am, thank you. Would you like me to explain?" Communication was very important to you, and unable to deceive him, you felt compelled to reveal the truth.
“In all honesty, the paparazzi got too overwhelming. Especially with all the dating questions.” You admitted, your gaze fixed on a point in the car, avoiding direct eye contact.
Tom’s expression softened, a mixture of understanding and empathy in his eyes. He parked the car in an empty parking lot before reaching out for your hand and placing it in his lap. “Hey, you don’t have to face this alone. And, for the record, I hate how they invade our personal lives as well.”
A smile appeared on your lips, appreciating his supportive words. “It’s just... the questions about us and whether we are dating. I didn’t know how to handle it,” you confessed, vulnerability filling the open air.
He nodded, his thumb gently rubbing against your hand. “I understand; it's okay to feel overwhelmed. But you don’t have to worry about handling it alone. We can get through this together.”
The sincerity in his words reassured you and provided comfort in his presence. “Thank you, Tom. This means a lot more than you realize,” you replied, your voice genuine.
"Anytime, sweetie, we’re a team, on and off-screen.” He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead.
You couldn’t help but notice a shift in the air—a subtle change in the dynamic between you two. The unspoken feelings that lingered beneath the surface were now begging to be let out.
Silence soon enveloped the car; the only thing playing was the music set to a low volume. The weight of the implicit emotions hung in the air, yet there was a shared understanding that needed no words.
You debated breaking the silence, but fortunately, Tom spoke up before you could. “You know, I’ve been thinking about it more and more recently... Maybe it’s time we addressed the dating rumors.”
Your eyebrows were raised in surprise. “Agreed, but how do we go about it?"
“Let’s be honest with them,” he paused, thinking of how he should continue. “We were going to have to talk about it one day, so why not tell them the truth now?”
Your heart skipped a beat, and the idea of him actually liking you echoed in your mind. “The truth?”
He nodded, honesty in his eyes. “What if we tell them that the chemistry they see on screen is more than just acting?"
You caught your breath, the unspoken truth finally swimming to the surface. “Tom, what are you saying?”
“I’m saying I like you, not just as a co-star; everything we do together is what I've always dreamed about. Baby, you’re perfect.”
A rush of emotion swept over you, and a genuine smile graced your face. “Tom, I like you too, more than I ever thought I would.”
His smile mirrored yours as he stared into your eyes. “Then let’s tell them the truth. We like each other, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”
As you shared a lingering look, he slowly leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. Your surroundings seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in that moment of equal vulnerability.
Breaking the kiss, Tom grinned, his eyes filled with love and affection. “Ready to face the world?” he paused, waiting for some kind of response, continuing once he saw you nod.
"So, let’s start right now.”
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pia-nor481 · 7 months
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Empty bed Part One
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Lando Norris x reader smut 18+
2.7k words
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Racing was always hard on Lando, he left exhausted and with extreme back pain from sitting almost parallel to the ground in the Mclaren. Many thought he was happy with P2 most races, but that wasn't the case. Coming third means you beat seventeen other drivers, it was something to be proud about. Coming first means you won, all the effort you put in payed off for 25 points and a trophy with "1" written on the front, it meant you were the best on the grid. But second, it always came with the worst feeling. He would be ecstatic getting out of the car, sitting in the cool down room and spraying champagne on the podium, but once he reached the sofa of the post race interviews, waves of dread and disappointment waved over him. "So what about the car is proving to be so tricky for you?" One of the interviewers asked looking directly at Lando, he couldn't blame the car if Oscar. a rookie, managed to come third in the same car. A car that was made for him. "Nothing, just a ... lack of talent." The pause after was so loud, although if Max and Oscar had their mics up, it would have picked up their laughter. But Lando wasn't joking, he just broke the record for the highest number of points without ever winning a race. It was upsetting sure, but his team mate winning a race before him, even though it was a sprint, hurt him even more. It wasn't Oscar's fault Lando felt so down, he just got used to losing, 
All the drivers decided to go out to a club to celebrate another win for max. Lando loved clubs and raves, the atmosphere was so over whelming that he couldn't really think. The DJ wasn't playing as well as he should have, Lando thought, he dances around the line of confident and cocky very well, it was never a turn off. He left Daniel to go the bar for another drink, once he got his vodka and coke he debated on just staying at the bar, drinking a way his problems just for the night. He didn't have to worry about a race next week so he didn't have to easy. Taking a sip of the barely cold drink almost caused him to cough, this was not the Smirnoff he was used to, there was an artificial after taste to the drink as well. "I think you might have my drink."  The girl next to him said laughing lightly, clearly trying to hold back her tears, not from laughter but from the remaining taste of vodka in her mouth. "I think so. Well, here's your just less than full rum and diet coke." Lando said, offering a playful smile in return, offering the glass to her, she took a sip with a nod, pleased to wash the awful taste out of her mouth. "You can definitely have your glass of paint stripper back." Lando chuckled rather loudly at her comment, it wasn't the first time some one had commented on his choice of drink, but her was the funniest. "You don't sound local, so I'm guessing you don't do this very often." He had to shout over the music, in retrospect he should have listened to Daniel on how to chat girls up, but she was too cute not to try. "If you mean come to clubs and talk to strangers at the bar, no. If you mean steal the drinks of very attractive men, then yes." He could barely hear her, so he had to lean in close. Her perfume was sweet and inviting, it was as if everything she said was the most interesting thing in the world, he was captivated. He was able to take her all in, a beautiful mini skirt, it was blue and iridescent, and it barely covered anything, if an elder saw her they would claim it to be a belt. Her mesh white top didn't aid in covering her any better, it did have long sleeves sure, but you could see her lacy white bra beneath it. She clearly knew how to style herself, she had lovely little white heels on and a lot of highlighter on her cheeks. She was stunning. 
"So what are you doing here ....?" She trailed off, not knowing his name. "Lando." He almost struggled to get out, so concentrated on her. "Celebrating with some friends, What are you actually doing here, other than chatting up men?" he almost laughed out, she joined him. "Looking for some fun." She hid her face behind the glass, allowing him to see the frosty blue eyeshadow on her lids. "Is that so?" He responded in a lower octave, reaching out to touch her waist with his free hand, her back immediately arched at the feeling, he was pleased to see how well she responded to his touch. She necked her drink quickly and grabbed his wrist, going to tug him out of the club. He was shocked with how her demeaner changed, she seemed so shy, but now she wanted him so desperate. Once he caught up, she stopped her by grabbing her hips firmly. "My hotel is definitely closer." Lando said, reaching for his phone. Once they were inside the taxi, he couldn't keep his hands off of her, his tongue was basically down her throat with how much he wanted her. Once of his hands snaked up her back, running his hingers over her vertebrae, her face began to warm at the feeling. 
Lando practically dragged her out of the car towards the door of the hotel. Once the lift doors shut he pushed her against the mirrors, kissing her lips again in desperation, in the process his hands grasped he sides of her face, smudging her make up. She rested her hands on his chest before pushing him back slightly, needing air. Lando however, didn't need a break, his continued his venture of kissing every bit of exposed skin, first her neck, the collar bones, there her chest. It was at this point he could also smell her body wash and lotion, their proximity was giving him good access to her body. She began to pull on his hair slightly as a sign to come back up, she reconnected their lips while he hiked her leg up around his hip, groping her ass unapologetically. The doors opened and they rushed towards his room. They didn't stop kissing until the back of her knees hit the bed, their contact broke for a second as she fell back. This gave Lando a chance to really take her in, and she was perfect. He began to lean over her, running his fingers over her neck and jaw, until he reached her mouth, she toyed with her lips before pushing his fingers between them. She sucked lightly, not breaking eye contact, Lando's breath got caught in his mouth upon the sight, licking his lips as he felt his cock get harder in his black trousers. He slowly pulled his fingers from her lips with a loud pop. She tugged her white top over head with more pace than he thought was possible, he quickly pulled her skirt down and was met with the intricate white lace of her underwear. "Fuck me." Lando rasped out, going to pull his clothes off. "I plan to." She said back, sitting up on her knees at the edge of the bed, reaching for his cock. Lando stepped closer, rubbing the tip over lips, before lightly tapping her cheeks with it, even now he was bit of a tease. She stuck her tongue out while grasping his hip, wanting him to be still while she took his whole cock in her mouth. His head fell back slightly as he groaned feeling the tip hit the back of her throat. "That's it baby, just like that." She bobbed her head over and over, motivated by the noises that slipped his mouth. He pulled off and quickly began to glide her tongue on the underside of his cock, she kissed and kitten licked the head before taking his whole cock again. He was surprised with how eager she was, no other woman was able to take the full thing, they had to use their hands to cover the base, she didn't. Lando let out blissful sigh above her, slipping his hand over her jaw, forcing eye contact. He tightened his grip when she hollowed out her cheeks, the pressure was becoming too much for him. His hips thrusting slowly was a sign of how close he was getting. Lando's hands found the back of her head, pushing it down until her nose met his pelvic bone. He lost himself in the feeling of her mouth, his cock pulsating as he moaned out quietly. Her mouth was quickly filled with his cum. "Swallow for me." She did as she was told, looking up at him when let her tongue lull out. 
Lando groaned as he stood up, walking leisurely towards the bed side table, his hand quickly met the neck of a bottle, a bottle of Ferrari champagne. She leaned back on the bed as he slammed the bottle on table before looking back at her; spraying the bottle above her. Her skin quickly became sticky with the bubbly liquid. This gave Lando an excuse to suck on her skin again, obsessed, he needed to feel her against him. He licked his way down her abdomen, once he met her cunt he sucked her clit rather aggressively, she moaned at he contact, closing her eyes to bask in the feeling. He wasted no time slipping his fingers between her slick lips. He began to scissor slowly, hungry to hear her whines at him stretching her out. He was relentless in licking her clit, switching from slow circles to shaking his head side to side, pushing his tongue down flat and hard got the best reaction from her, so he was persistent; curling fingers every now and then to receive an extra gasp. Her heels began to dig into the mattress as her pelvis began to rise; he would gorge on the sweetness leaking out of her cunt. She was quickly becoming drunk on the feeling of her blooming pleasure; rolling out a song of moans and hums. Her hips began to twitch against his face, the orgasm was a sight to behold, let a lone something too feel as her mind began to melt as he sucked and licked aggressively. She didn't know whether she wanted to pull him closer or pull away. The stimulation was too much and she began to see stars in her new found haze, moaning out curses with a mix of his name. Lando pulled away, flashing his teeth in the process of smirking. 
Once she caught her breath, he leaned closer brining the bottle with him. "Open, baby." he tilted the bottle back, letting the champagne pour into his mouth, but his Adams apple didn't bob. He grabbed her jaw and let the alcohol spill into her mouth, she swallowed quickly, wanting to feel his lips on her, he was intoxicating, a feeling she hadn't had in a long time. She was so focused on him that she didn't register being flipped over onto her stomach. Lando pulled her hips up, supporting her weight slightly. She pushed up onto her elbows as he spoke. "You gonna be good? yeah?" he said with a tinge of sass, smacking her ass lightly. She nodded, moaning out as a verbal response. He chuckled before sliding his cock through her lips, she clawed at the now wet sheets, unable to control her self. Lando started slow needing to pace himself slightly, just kissing her got him so worked up, “Fuck.” He strained, becoming more breathless with each thrust. As he continued to press into her, she couldn’t help but clench around him, the way he was hitting all the right spots, touching her skin, groaning in pleasure, made it all that much harder not to cum then and there. His hand made contact with her ass In sequence with the thrusts, the sting was painful and yet it felt euphoric, she groaned into the bedding at the feeling.
Once he pushed in to the hilt, she arched her back further, not being able to contain herself for much longer. Hot breaths filled the air, which was already filled with sex and desire.
Lando’s hand make work up her back before drawing shapes on her shoulders. His hand soo reached her scalp, where he grabbed a fist full of her hair and tugged lightly; ensuring she wouldn’t object before he pulled rather hard, causing her back to reach his chest. He kept her hair in his hand while sucking on her neck, she wanted to feel everything and he made it happen. “Oh, please Lando, please.” She asked, gasping for air after each word.
“Why? Can’t hold it?” He teased, not that he was any better off. She just felt so good and her reactions only heightened the sensation. She whined in response as he thrusted deeper inside of her pulsating cunt. He groaned in her ear before speaking again, “you didn’t answer my question baby.” He was being cocky, but in a way he knew would only turn her on further. “I can, I swear.” Her words were slurring together, making it that much more obvious that she was on the edge of euphoria. She reached around him, grabbing his waist for some support, she could barely hold her head up anymore, the over stimulation setting in quicker than she anticipated.
Lando’s hand slid back down to her clit, aiding in the blissful feeling. Rubbing figure eights over her cunt while thrusting harder made her moan louder in between heavy breaths. He was smirking into her neck, knowing how good he was making her feel. She could feel his teeth against her skin, he was biting down, almost as if to hide his voice, muffling the groans. “That’s it baby, cum for me.” He said, voice dropping an octave for a mere second. She did as she was told, practically spasming in his arms as she let out guttural moans. The feeling of her clenching caused Lando’s cock to twitch. A mix of their cum dripped down her legs and into the bed.
“Good, so good for me. Makin me feel so good baby.” Lando whispered, pulling out. He ran his hands over her body gently, it almost tickled. By the time he got under the covers, she was already asleep; hair tangled, make up smudged and skin dotted in marks that would be hard to cover with the clothes she was wearing, or lack there of. Lando was happy, it was more than the post orgasmic haze, something about her was just right. He didn’t stop touching her, keeping his arms tight around her body to keep her warm, knowing the alcohol would wear off. He felt like he’d accomplished something more than just a win.
When Lando woke up at half past eleven, skin stuck to the bedding he was surprised and confused, until he remembered, partly, what had happened that night. He looked to his side, only to find an empty bed. He shot up, quickly looking around the room for any sign of the night. He walked through the whole “room”, past the tables and sofa, only to be met with silence. Lando walked back to the bed sorrowful, knowing his flight would leave in an hour, so he decided he needed to get ready.
Once he opened the bathroom door he first noticed it was still quite warm, it wouldn’t have been because he’d used it more than 24 hours ago. The condensation on the glass was new. Someone had definitively used his shower. Wrapping a towel around his body as he left, Lando went to his suitcase to pick up some clothes for the flight, he again noticed something was off. One of his hoodies was missing. In an attempt to find it he stumbled upon a pair of white lace underwear across the room. He was please that he didn’t imagine last night, but was disappointed she wasn’t still there. Lando was broken out of his trance when he heard the sound of a notification from his phone.
“Hope you wore a condom xx”-Daniel
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Any mistakes let me know.
Part Two
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55szn · 1 month
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lacy - mv1
max verstappen x fem!driver!reader
summary yn can't keep hiding her true feelings towards max
wc 1,6 k (i was supposed to keep it short for this one but oh well)
warnings this one angsty as fuuuck, reader kinda sucks sorry
a/n first post of this series omg i'm so excited!!!!!! i haven't written in a while so this may not be the best of my works but this is still one of my favorites <33 also english is not my first language so...yeah
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YN sighed as she pulled the balaclava off and immediately ran her hand through her sweaty hair, attempting to make it look decent. Once again she was finishing behind Max. The Dutch looked back at her as he got down from the top of his car and gave her a sweet smile, she tried her best to reciprocate that smile but it probably looked as fake as it felt.
She couldn't really pinpoint when her rotten mind had started to harbor these feelings towards the man she loved.
YN's first encounter with Max occurred when they were barely teenagers, amid the noisy circuits of karting competitions. There was something captivating in that lanky and slightly awkward teenager that drew YN to him like a magnet. As time went on, their bond deepened, among endless talks of shared dreams that seemed unreachable at the time.
The first time Max kissed YN, she felt in heaven, enveloped in a kind of excitement she had never known. It didn't take long before he asked her to be his girlfriend and she accepted thinking life couldn't get better than that.
The mutual decision to keep their relationship under wraps seemed obvious, a conscious choice made as they started their parallel journeys into Formula 1, that was not the kind of attention they were seeking.
She felt true happiness for Max's overwhelming success, she truly did, at least at the beginning.
But YN found herself caught in the shadow of his success, a place she hadn't anticipated occupying. Eventually every podium celebration and victory lap, served as a bitter reminder of the expectations she was failing to meet. She couldn't acknowledge these feelings so she masked this resentment beneath a facade of congratulatory smiles and kisses. The press was no help. They endlessly compared their careers and although YN had managed to get some satisfying results, she was nowhere near Max's level. They ate it up, it gave them good headlines to pit them against the other. They were the embodiment of a tantalizing narrative – two very young drivers with great success in the lower categories, shared dreams and a seemingly unbreakable "friendship", both coming into F1 with good teams and high expectations but only one of them was reaching those expectations. It was a good story, sure. But the story was tearing YN apart.
Perhaps the tipping point arrived with a very specific headline, its words forever etched into her brain: "Max Verstappen: Vettel reincarnate." With each syllable, YN's throat constricted, her stomach twisting into knots. Max seemed to effortlessly get everything she ever yearned for, now he was getting put at the same level as her biggest idol and inspiration which proved to be too much to handle for her. And with each of his accomplishments the poisonous seed of envy took root within her heart.
It was so contradictory, when she finally admitted it to herself. She loved Max more than she loved herself and maybe that was the root of the problem, her own insecurities and bruised ego. But it was becoming impossible to fake a smile every time she saw him on that top step. She knew it wasn't true but she almost felt like Max was out to get her.
She hated Max. And she hated herself for that fact. How could one harbor so much love and hatred for someone at the same time?
She was loosing her mind, her fragile facade crumbling under the weight of her emotions. Of course the ever attentive eyes of the press and the fans noticed the way her once adoring glances towards Max were now replaced with icy stares. How she couldn't even make the effort to raise the corners of her mouth whenever Max complimented her skills or her racing. His tenders words of admiration which once felt like a warm summer breeze began to feel like bullets grazing her already wounded skin, they felt like mockery. It was only a matter of time until Max started noticing this too.
Something was clearly happening, and that's why he found himself knocking on her apartment's door late at night, the echoes of the particularly hard weekend YN had endured still reverberating through his mind. The bitter taste of failure and disappointment still lingered on her lips. YN had struggled with the car and couldn't even make it out of Q2, and Sunday's race offered little reprieve, finishing in a P11 that tasted of unfulfilled expectations. While, of course, Max had made a brilliant pole position and had won the race, once again making everyone worship the ground he walked on. He hadn't seen YN since the race finished. She flew back to Mónaco that same night without even letting him know and without even asking if he wanted to fly back with her, which was the case almost every weekend. Max wasn't stupid, he could tell something was up with her lately, the distance she was putting between them, he was loosing her. And he loved her too much to let her go without a fight.
The door creaked open, YN's figure against the dim lighting within. Her jealous eyes clouded with heavy feelings. She stepped aside wordlessly, allowing Max to enter, her silence was louder that any word could ever be.
He carefully walked in, the all too familiar environment of his girlfriend's apartment suddenly feeling cold and foreign. Max was tense before taking a seat on the armrest of her couch. His heart felt heavy, he already wanted to cry. He had trouble getting the words out, something that had never happened in the years he had known YN. What had they become?
He swallowed dry before finally finding his voice. "I think we need to have a talk." His gaze was pleading for her to meet his eyes, but she kept staring at her shoes.
She froze at his words and her fingers tightened around the edge of the table she was leaning against. She could tell this conversation was coming, yet she dreaded the flood of emotions threatening to consume her, scared of the things she could say.
"What is it, Max?" Her voice was strained, an inner battle developing inside her, trying to control her emotions.
"You know what it is about, schat." Her jaw tightened at the pet name, now it somehow sounded condescending, even though deep down she knew that wasn't true. "YN something's been bothering you lately. I know it. Please talk to me."
YN's heart clenched painfully at his words, her resolve crumbling under the weight of her own inner turmoil. How could she even begin to articulate the burning envy and resentment that coursed through her veins every time she looked at him? How could she admit out loud to hating the man she loved more than life itself?
When she finally looked up and met his stare she felt the monstrous feeling that had been gnawing at her conscience completely engulf her and she wasn't in control of her own words anymore. Her eyes burning with a contradictory mix of longing and loathing. "Are you seriously asking me that, Max?" Her voice trembled with suppressed emotion.
Max recoiled at the intensity of her stare and her tone, a sinking feeling at the pit of his stomach by the anticipatory feeling of his world crumbling down completely. "YN, I..."
"You know damn well what's going on." YN's voice cracked with emotion, her words laced with a bitterness that made it unrecognizable to both of them. "You have everything, Max. The wins, the championships, the adoration of the whole fucking world. Everything I ever wanted, you took it for yourself." She knew she wasn't making sense, the words were spilling out of her mouth before she had the time to catch them.
Max's heart constricted with an unfair amount of guilt. "YN, I... I had no idea you felt this way."
"And why would you?" She retorted, her voice rising with each word. "You're too busy basking in your own glory to notice how much it's killing me to be constantly compared to you." That wasn't his fault, and she knew it. It was the pure and evil hatred that consumed her that was speaking those words.
He felt like he had been punched in the gut. "I'm sorry." He shouldn't have to apologize for what he accomplished after years and years of hard work, yet he did, the fear of loosing her bigger than the need to acknowledge his self worth.
The hurt mirroring in his eyes was obvious, her tone softened before she spoke again. "You don't have to apologize, Max. You deserve it, you deserve it so much. I know that and you should too." She took a sharp breath in. "But knowing that doesn't change how I feel. I...I hate you."
He looked at her, stunned. His heart plummeted to his stomach. Her words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of their meaning.
"I do. I hate you Max. I hate you for being able to get everything I've only ever dared to dream of." She couldn't believe she was admitting it to Max's face, breaking the heart of the man she claimed to love.
Max felt as though the ground had been ripped out from under him, the sting of her words cutting deeper than any wound ever could. "I can't believe you're saying this," he mumbled, his voice chocked.
"I wish I didn't have to Max but I can't bear to keep lying to your face. I wish I could just pretend like everything's okay, like I'm still happy for you. But I can't, I'm sorry." YN's voice cracked with the weight of her confession, tears streaming down her cheeks as she looked at him with a strange mix of love and loathing. "I love you too much to keep lying to you."
The silence was sepulcral, years and years of shared moments full of love completely destroyed by the sick envy that had infected YN.
But the truth is, their love was doomed from the beginning.
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crucialplayer · 10 months
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Thoughts on moon placements
!! everything is based purely on my experiences with signs, written with no other purpose than to share my observations and be unserious.
Aries moon. Will ask you a question and leave midway through u answering it just cuz little men in their head pushed a new button on the emotions console, inside out style. If they feel some type of way be sure everyone in the room will also feel it. Great at destroying social harmony. 
Taurus moon. Brick wall banging against which you risk irrevocably damaging ur head. Usually deal with stress or any negative emotions by falling asleep. Insanely bad at moving on from anything.
Gemini moon. Find an outlet for your thoughts and ideas and it better not be that one poor friend that is too nice to stop your rambling. Anxiety ride from the moment they wake up till the moment they fall asleep if they actually manage to. Never have a firm stance on anything. 
Cancer moon. If they feel sad they can suck the life out of the air. Feel a lot and usually stop at that. Somehow kinda bad at reflecting. Some of them could really benefit from rationalizing their emotions. Like to reminisce a lot. 
Leo moon. Every day is a Miss Universe contest. Don't understand the concept of putting yourself in someone else’s shoes. Live life like they’re being filmed for a biopic about them. Get offended easily. Having too many ego deaths on a daily basis bless them. 
Virgo moon. Invented anxiety and hating things. Genuinely think they are smarter than everybody but like to ignore the fact that they’ve been stuck in the loop of the same problems for a couple of years. VEry unstable self-esteem. 
Libra moon. Appear very carefree to the point of care actually not existing in their world I think. Like cute things and cute feelings. Dislike ugly things and ugly feelings. Shine best when surrounded by people and are needed by someone. 
Scorpio moon. If mood swings were a moon placement it’d be this one. Cutting ur hair at 3 am moon. Everything is profound and deeply personal. Identity crisis during a bus ride home. Being nonchalant is a hoax. 
Sagittarius moon. 3 minute emotional life cycle. Consider feeling down a random virus they caught somewhere and not a genuine state of being. Cure themself to the natural optimistic disposition by blowing up to someone’s face and proceeding to go with their day unbothered.   
Capricorn moon. Incapable of giving approval or being positive about anything. See three steps forward except only for the situations going wrong. Hence dissociate when they’re supposed to feel happy. The soul leaves their body when entrapped by loud people. 
Aquarius moon. Have ideas about feelings. When exposed to simple emotional stimuli fall into a theoretical spiral. Like to look for the signs and parallels. Without a social circle are like fish without water. 
Pisces moon. Kid lost in the mall vibe. Dreamed a more exciting life and are living it. Need alone time to survive but also kinda hate it?? Always care, would lose at the speed of light in the idgaf war. Do art please. 
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kerorowhump · 10 months
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"H-Hi... we're back home..."0
"But... sergeant, what's going on? Do you feel sick?"
"Don't worry. How are the guests?"
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"I will be eternally grateful to her... if Lady Natsumi is leading the team that's in the kitchen I'm certain that our guests will appreciate it a lot..."
#ita dub#keroro#this adaptation choice is deeply interesting to me because it seems to be paralleling keroro and natsumi implicitly#as in. he trusts her leading skills with it deeply. an implication im not seeing in these subs#another thing that makes me think a lot is that when fuyuki asks how he feels. he replies to him not to worry#while the original im okay is obviously and visibly a lie. don't worry however implies that his status of health is unimportant and#shouldn't be focused on#they're saying the same thing in different fonts basically but i thought it was a neat thing#however the second part has more difference in that keroro is Deeply grateful for the fact natsumi chose to help him#''this is just wonderful '' is what it is... obviously... but him being grateful makes me think he wasn't expecting her to help him in the#situation and take the lead. and he trusts that she'll do a great job. which is obviously true in both#he is crying anything so it is something that touches him regardless of the dialogue#there is a focus on just natsumi specifically in the ita dub. the ''others'' are not mentioned at all#anyway take it for what it is ig#i mean these ita dub posts r mostly for me anyway to infodump to my friends who are english abt this series im watching in ita.#and archive neat differences no matter if i think they're better or worse or just different#no one has ever been this thorough in seeing what changes between the two versions in this anime i love so much#i found old forum posts about keroro ita adaptation and everyone was praising it as one of the best ones we've gotten#i feel like that is true and accurate. but i also wanna look deeper and deeper into it#i could just leave it as ''its pretty accurate!'' and it's true but youve also seen that in many ways. it's not. but it doesn't make it bad#an adaptation. by need and design. will never be like the original#nor should it aim to be. bc thats impossible and it would just become lackluster. i just.. have an intense interest in analyzing the choices#that were made when transposing this anime here. on all fronts. maybe no one gets it quite like me. but ive seen some appreciation and it#made me really glad. that people who dont even speak italian can know MY experience in watching the show#and then i can learn the intended experience or a closer version to it (subs are adaptation too! they wont be fully accurate!!!) and have#so much of it. different ways of it. to parse my best interpretations. it's so fun. erm anyways. enough talking. u dont get it probly#ive 👀 ppl criticize fuyukis voice but thats simone d'andrea hes a close friend to patrizio prata and they always did guys together in anime#dont be disrespectful to italian VAs ever or you will face my sword. unless i allow you specifically. like every1 pls say peridots VA sucks#it probably wasnt even her fault thats the director telling u to do something that doesnt work. it's so bad.#on the other hand i would lay down train tracks and die for stevens voice. riccardo suarez. the light in a dark tunnel. voiced yumyulack too
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il-predestinato · 6 months
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hello beautiful elle
since it is going to be a long 3 months without our boys could you please recommend some fics that you liked? cause i really like your writings and how realistic they are and i wanted to get some of you suggestions for the break!
love you loads
Thank you, lovely anon, for your very kind message! 🥺 I must admit I have fallen behind in reading fics. I am sure I am forgetting some excellent Lestappen fics/writers, but these are some of my all-time favourites!
Lestappen Fic Recs:
And in the end I will seek you out amongst the stars by mandzilkos (@geeeooorrrge) - rating: G, 22k words
Soulmate AU where you see in black and white until you meet your soulmate, and the world goes back to black and white after your soulmate dies. This is ALWAYS the first Lestappen fic that comes to mind whenever anyone asks for a recommendation, and it is probably my all-time favourite. The fic that inspired me to write Lestappen, if I'm honest.
getting half of you just ain't enough by shybear_styles - rating: E, 20k words
The friends with benefits story that spans the 2019 season. The only thing better than amazing smut is amazing smut with feels. For sure a top 5 fic in the Lestappen fandom for me. Also, this author is simply amazing in general and you should read all of her fics! I haven't given up hope that she will return one day and write more Lestappen. 🤧
you feel the mornin' feel by shybear_styles - rating: M, 3.3k words
Remember that time Sebastian Vettel asked Charles, "Is he [Max] pretty?" And we never got an answer because Charles descended into gay panic? Well, worry not! We get an answer in this fic.
Monaco Malaise by ProngsfootxJily (@cupidskissx) - rating: E, 8k words
Rivals with benefits, takes place after the 2021 Monaco Grand Prix. Yes, this one is delicious smut but also a character study. Both of them are written so well, and it leaves you begging for more. Don't forget to check out the equally amazing sequel! (Don't worry, I have been relentlessly harassing her to write the sequel's sequel.)
algorithm by Anney (@badboy-george) - rating: M, 17k words
In a world where F1 uses simulation-based compatibility tests, five times Max doesn't find the right partner and the one time he does. Black Mirror ("San Junipero" and "Hang the DJ") vibes in the best way. Another one of my absolute favourite fics. If you've read any Lestappen fics, you've probably read "Every Other Sunday." This one is simply a masterpiece by the immensely talented Anney; definitely check out her other fics!
panem et circenses by Anney - rating: E, 13.2k words
Wow - simply devastating, haunting, an ode to these two as drivers, set in a dystopian future AU. The world building is absolutely incredible, but at its heart is such a beautiful story of love and hope. This one doesn't get enough recognition. (TW: implied non-con, not between Lestappen.)
Unlearn by wantinghopingwriting (Tazza1993) (@lightsoutfullhearts) - NR, 45k words
This is another all-time favourite, a must-read. Fake/pretend relationship to lovers multi-chapter story that is ever so satisfying; both of them are so well characterized. Set in a parallel-ish 2022 season. I really cannot recommend this one enough.
the edge of what can be loved by Ledger_m (@the-last-jedis) - rating: T, 13k words
The third wheel fic from the perspective of Max and Charles' various "Steves." It's funny, heartwarming, and everyone on the grid is nosy as fuck.
Charles Leclerc vs Red Bull caps by Ledger_m - rating: T, 6.4k words
Charles is the hero we all need, as he goes on a mission to get rid of all of Max's stupid Red Bull caps. This is REQUIRED reading! Kami is a genius. Go read all of her fics.
If You Don't Play, You'll Never Win by antimonyandthyme (@antimonyandthyme) - rating: T, 4.1k
Post 2021 Monaco Grand Prix. Max wants to take their relationship further; Charles... doesn't. Oh my God, where do I begin to describe how much I love this fic. The language is beautiful, both of them are so well-written, and I feel punched in the gut over and over again in the best way. The ending (well, the whole thing) is so damn satisfying.
all's well that ends well (to end up with you) by stylestappen (@stylestappen) - rating: G, 3k words
Max has a meltdown in the cereal aisle (yes, the cereal aisle) at 3 am when he realizes he is in love with Charles despite the latter's questionable taste in cereal. Dani has an absolutely wicked sense of humour! (Although I don't understand what she has against cocoa puffs 😭.) She also wrote a banger of a Lestappen soon-to-be teammates fic, so make sure to check out her profile.
Max Verstappen: Spotify Extraordinaire by frnndtorres - rating: G, 26k words
Max makes Spotify playlists for the grid. Fluffy, funny, care-free, liberal use of nicknames, with a healthy dose of feels between Max and Charles. A really fun read.
i love the way your green eyes mix with that malibu indigo by altissimozucca (@altisssimozucca) - rating: G, 11k words
Max and Charles spend summer of 2020 together in Malibu and try not to fall in love. Spoiler alert: they fall in love. I feel the urge to explain something: When I first started reading Lestappen, there were less than 250 fics in their entire tag (yeah I know, we are currently close to 3000 fics, which is insane). From 2019-2021, we truly lived off crumbs. So trust me when I say that we owe so much to altissimozucca, who wrote something like 40% of the fics in the Lestappen tag and nearly single-handedly kept us fed in those days. It's so hard to pick one of her fics to recommend, so make sure you check out her profile for more!
#803442 by altissimozucca - rating: M, 1k words
Max and Charles celebrate the end of the 2019 season in a hotel room. So soft, so fluffy, so satisfying.
Bruises by eefiplier - rating: E, 5.1k words
I think of this one as THE Lestappen smut fic. Oh my God, it's 5k words of amazing established relationship smut with all the feels. A classic. I can read this one over and over again.
outside the box by playclock (@endowataru) - rating: M, 6.1k words
Max falls in love with Charles' driving... oh and Charles himself too. They are ultra competitive idiots who are madly in love. There aren't enough established relationship fics out there, but this one is simply amazing. And don't forget to check out this author's profile for additional Lestappen fics. I promise every single one is a banger!
i made it link by link by purpleglasseswrites (@f-ferrari-forever) - rating: M, 4.2k words
Charles and Max try to be kinky, but who are they kidding - they are far too vanilla for that stuff. 🤣 This one is so sweet, and don't forget to read the sequel!
One man's trash, another man's treasure by AzziNow (@track-terror-apologist) - rating: T, 4.2k words
Charles turns into a raccoon and terrorizes everyone except Max. (Well, he terrorizes Max too... slightly.)
Call it madness, call it love… by AzziNow - rating: M, 3.5k words
Ferrari auctions off Charles for charity. No angst, just fluff. Alpha!Max/Alpha!Charles. So I confess that I never read A/B/O fics. There's nothing wrong with it - just not my cup of tea. But I really enjoyed this one. Al has such a chaotic sense of humour.
it all reminds me of you by grandprix (@grandprix-ao3) - rating: E, 3k words
Secret relationship Lestappen with flashbacks. Oh the yearning, the desire, the smut - incredibly satisfying. I must put a plug-in for this author's other Lestappen fics as well. Never misses - make sure to check them out!
burning you into my mind by thightattoos - rating: E, 4.1k words
Porn with feels and possessiveness. You cannot ask for anything more. I must have read this one a dozen times.
an evil plan or two by witchee_writer - rating: T, 5.2k words
Max and Charles are roped into a plan to get Brocedes back together; they come to a few realizations along the way. The only thing better than a Lestappen fic? A Lestappen AND Brocedes fic!
Fine Line by empireoffclouds - rating: NR, 7k words
One of the more light-hearted enemies to friends to lovers fics. I absolutely adore their dynamic here - it's snarky, warm, but also so them. The incomplete sequel is also a super fun read.
Into Darkness Of Thought by flamingosarepink - rating: T, 1k words
After the 2019 Japanese Grand Prix, Charles thinks Max isn't coming back to their shared space.
steal softly under castle walls by untouchableocean - rating: G, 521 words
Max gets home late from Milton Keynes and Charles has already fallen asleep. Short, tooth-rooting fluff of the best kind.
Zoomies by greeny1710 (@maxlambiase) - rating: E, 2.2k words
This one is just hilarious. A (mostly) naked Max walks into Charles' team Zoom call during the COVID lockdown.
...and many, many more that I'm sure I have forgotten! 🙈 You can also check out my AO3 bookmarks (the first few pages are pretty much all Lestappen fics).
Please remember to leave kudos and comments for these amazing writers. The talent in this fandom is absolutely incredible. They all deserve so much recognition. Happy reading!
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Map of Soho Good Omens Season 2 - Part 1 (Location and general map)
Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Update: Map now identifies Lucky Snake and the coffee shop listed in Aziraphale's clipboard may indeed be Give Me Coffee I think we all have wondered how the GO Soho looks like and where it would be in real London. So using all the screenshots, BTS pictures and videos I could find I did my best to map out where things are. It is not to scale but everything I could see is there. I originally had all the pictures and explanations in this post but soon it became obvious it was going to be too long and impractical so I had to split it in different posts and I hope I got it right. The map has five reference points (circle with two diverging lines); imagine the circle is you, standing in the set, and the lines are your viewpoint if you were taking a picture from there. The left side of Whickber Street (#1 and #2) is in Part 2, the intersecting street (#3 and #4) is in Part 3 and the right half of Whickber Street (#5) is in Part 4.
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As to where the bookshop would be in real London. We know that Whickber Street is supposed to be Berwick Street so let's start there. The intersecting street is not obvious from the show. In this post Neil said he imagines the bookshop to be where Gosh! Comics is (Peter Street) while Michael Ralph and Douglas McKinnon probably put it at The Week (on Broadwick Street). Because it is ambiguous and really you can do whatever you want, I just left it as "intersecting street". We know from the book that Crowley takes Wardour Street after the bookshop fire. Wardour is behind Berwick so in our map it would be where the Chinese Buffet Restaurant is, considering they run more or less parallel. On the other side, we have the Windmill Theatre located on Great Windmill Street. From Berwick St. and Peter St. it takes three minutes to walk to the theatre, it is that close! (yes, I know, Crowley was conducting business two blocks from the bookshop while not talking to Aziraphale for 80 years). I have never been in that part of London so I used Google Maps streetview and based only on that, I like the corner of Berwick St. and Broadwick St. better. It has the crooked intersection but the proximity of the theatre matches Peter St. better, so whatever works better for you!
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There is one place missing from the set map though: Brown's World of Carpets! It is nowhere to be found, we simply don't know where it is My very personal headcanon is that it is nothing but a desk inside the furniture store. I find that idea of the guy most worried about storefront looks being the one without a storefront very amusing, but don't mind me, it is just my very silly hc XD Now, we know Aziraphale has a list for the shops he needs to visit. And we know he wrote it in alphabetical order which begs the question: Where is the Dirty Donkey?! Are they not invited? And what about the fabric shop? And Bilton Scaggs? Battye and Palm? The News Agency? Is "Mo Coffee? No Coffee?" supposed to be Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death? Or is there another coffee shop somewhere? @crow-bee23 suggested it could be "Me Coffee" which it is entirely possible, the full name is kind of long. So many questions to ask Mr. Brown.
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Anyway, I put pictures and details on the shops in parts 2, 3 and 4. Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
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c0la-queen · 4 months
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RAGHHHHHHHHH
Could you ever so kind and provide some general dating Headcannons for all the four boys?? 🥺👉👈
Maybe some extra with red leader or someone else if you’re fine with that??? 🥺💜
Mwah mwah you have amazing work <3 /p
Oh my gods I am SO sorry that this is so late!! For some reason, Mr. Tumblr decided not to notify me about your ask?? And then I was at my bestie's house this weekend, so I haven't checked my inbox until now. Begging for your forgiveness rn Anon!!
Also literally kissing you for asking for Red Leader!! Mwah, mwah!!
---
Edd
If you are dating Edd... girlie I am so sorry for your sanity.
Don't get me wrong, I love Edd! He was my first Eddsworld love, my pookie bear for real! But he's the biggest bastard of the entire gang and I stand by that.
Calls you dumb pet names to try and make you laugh. Sugar Tits (regardless of gender or lack thereof, might I add), Baby Doll, Sexy.
He WILL grab/slap your ass all the time. Even in public. Only grins when you glare at him.
This man is a horrible influence. It will be so hard to get your shit done if he has decided that you need to be spending time with him. Why worry about work or chores when you could be all cuddled up with him and Ringo on the couch?
Will sulk if you reject his attempts.
If he's trying to get shit done and you're pestering him for attention? He will drop his basket of laundry or the dishes in his hands in a millisecond.
If he's working on a commission or animation, he'll let you sit in his lap in his chair, let you sit all pretty for him while he works. When he finishes, if you've fallen asleep by then -which you usually do - then he'll carefully move you both to his bed and snuggle up to you and take a nap with you.
Speaking of cuddling, he does naturally run hot. Comes with being a big boy <3 But if you don't enjoy that, then he'll use his powers to cool down his skin for you. Anything to keep cuddling!
He also uses his powers whenever possible. Will abuse them without shame. He puts things on the highest shelf, just so you have to him for help. He'll put patches of ice on the floor under your feet, just so he can catch you before you fall (he'll never let you actually get hurt), and uses his super strength to scoop you up randomly and carry you around.
You cannot show your text messages to ANYONE. He will say filthy things, just to fluster you. Horny Bastard. Finds ways to turn even the most mundane conversations into teasing.
He'd do cute couple things with you, like painting together and swapping canvases every 5 minutes. His favorite is going to cat cafes. The cats literally love him, its like he's made of catnip with how they swarm him.
Physical affection is a huge thing with him. Even little touches throughout the day, like ruffling your hair as he passes by, or a big hug from behind while you fix food.
Overall, big teddy bear that just likes to see his darling blush.
Tom
As I've stated in previous works, Tom is a secret romantic.
He's not a traditional romantic like Matt, but he's romantic in his own way.
Likes parallel play a lot. Finds it relaxing to just sit in his room, testing new songs on his bass while you lay on his bed reading a book. Or in your room, lounging on one of your plush beanbag and organizing his Spotify playlists while you fold your laundry.
Dates with him consist of record stores, concerts, and late night walks.
He'll sing for you if you ask him to.
Very down to earth, both as a person and as a boyfriend. If you have problems, he'll listen patiently until you're done, then help you brainstorm solutions. He doesn't downplay or ignore your feelings, but he doesn't jump to emotions like others might.
He tends to sleep in late on his nights off, since he's more of a night owl than anything. You know that, so you've made it a little tradition to fix him coffee around 11. You know exactly how he takes it, and he always thanks you with a kiss on the cheek and a sleepy, mumbled "you're the best."
Very caring. He'll make sure you've eaten and had water. Will usher you to bed if he can see that you're tired, or do your chores for you if you can't do them for whatever reason. If you can't sleep, he'll make you a mug of chamomile tea and sing you a little lullaby.
When it comes to his monster tendencies, he tries to keep you away from it all. He's bitter about what he is, and he thinks that you're better off separated from that side of him.
At the start of relationship, he'd get angry if you tried to push it. He'd snap at you, distance himself, not talk to you for maybe a couple of days. Further on in the relationship, though, if you push the issue and reassure him that you love every side of him, even the monstrous one, then he'd be more willing. Willing to let you in, to let you see that part of him. He'd be nervous about it, but he'd do it because he loves you.
Matt
He is a traditional romantic! His Mama raised him right, and he drinks his Respect Juice.
Makes sure you two have date night at least once every week. Dressing up nice, going out to dinner or a play, taking a walk through the town to wind down the night. Heading back into the house, changing back into comfortable clothes. He'd wipe your makeup off for you, if you wear it.
Absolutely the kind of guy to get down on his knees in front of you and unbuckle/untie your shoes or high heels for you. He's just so devotional.
If, for whatever reason, you guys are unable to have your date night, he'll make it up to you in some way. A bouquet of your favorite flowers sitting on your bed with a little note. A passionate kiss before one of you has to leave the house. A heartfelt love letter sealed with wax.
Makes sure to text you throughout the day with sweet messages. Compliments, "I love you"s, selfies, updates on what is happening at work. Or just reminders that he's thinking of you. Misses you.
Likes to cook meals for you if its just the two of you at home. Breakfast is his forte, but he's not the worst at following a recipe.
Always amazing for advice. He'll let you talk to him while he hugs you from behind. If it's something sad, he might cry. Just the idea of you going through something negative makes him sad, too.
If he doesn't have advice for you, he'd do anything in his power to find someone who does. One of the other roommates, or even his mother, if you're comfortable with it.
Speaking of his mother, she absolutely adores you. Since Matt has such a good relationship with her, he's already told her so much about you. She thinks its wonderful that her baby has fallen in love. After a while, Matt will even bring you along to his lunches with his mother. You two hit it off instantly.
If you're okay with it, then Matt would love to show you off on his social media. He thinks you're so gorgeous, the entire world should know that he managed to land you. Its never anything invasive, and he always gets your permission before he posts things. Blocks any weird or gross comments.
Loves going on shopping dates with you. Most of the time, its at the mall or a mall in a different town, because he loves walking around and window shopping. Occasionally, he'll take you to more expensive stores. It doesn't bother him, he loves spoiling you. No matter where you two are, he'll buy you anything that you want. If you are adamant to spend your own money, he won't put up too much of a fuss, though he does prefer to pay for you.
He'll do that couples trend with you where you find nail polish that matches the other's eye color.
Gift giving is just one of his love languages in general. It makes him so happy to give his loved one things that he bought. For you specifically, he'll also throw in hand made gifts. He may not be the most talented artistically, but he'll stay awake late into the night, sitting on the floor with a YouTube tutorial playing, paper and cardboard scattered around, a pencil between his teeth, paint on his hands and smeared on his cheek. The end result may look a little crude, but he'll still present it to you with pride. And, of course, you always love it.
Tord
Tord is probably the most romantically stunted of the four. Its not that he doesn't love you, far from it really. He just grew up in an environment where love wasn't freely given, and was often limited for appearances.
His father, as the Red Leader, insisted that he keep a professional and feared image. So, Tord never saw him being affectionate with his mother.
It might be hard at first. You'll struggle. You two may fight. But you'll always make up in the end. He'll listen to you, try to understand your point of view.
He's not against physical affection, but he's able to live without it. Will indulge you whenever you ask. If he's busy, which he usually is, he'll let you drape yourself over him from behind while he sits in his chair, letting you rest your cheek on the top of his head and watch him work.
More than anything, his love language is words of affirmation. Despite being a man of few words, he'll always give you praise. He'll make sure you know that you are his, he is yours, and he loves you. Nothing will change that.
Scary dog privilege. He'll always walk just behind you in public, keeping a guiding hand on the small of your back. Stays alert of you surroundings and the people around, so that you don't have to. You don't even have to worry about people approaching you in public. One piercing glare from Tord is enough to deter anyone.
Not the best at giving advice to problems. He'll listen, but sometimes he can't quite understand why something is an issue. Doesn't invalidate your feelings on purpose, it just happens inadvertently at times. Always, ALWAYS apologizes and holds you close when he realizes what he did.
His preferred dates are nights in at home. Cuddled up on the couch with takeout watching shitty rom-coms. Cooking food that he ate growing up in Norway while you sit at the kitchen table watching. Going to the convenience store at midnight to get Ben and Jerry's in the middle of anime binges.
You become his crutch. When he's having bad paranoia on nights that are too quiet, he'll seek you out. Just having you lay in bed with him, warm and solid and breathing, always calms him down.
He will never let you meet his parents. You are one of the very few good things in his life, and he wants to keep that away from his fucked up home life. Might let you meet his little sister, but not for a long time.
Surprisingly, he does tend to talk more when its just the two of you. He allows you into his head, verbalizing his thoughts to you. He'll ramble about his projects, tell you about the history behind his culture, or rant about things that annoy him. Denies it vehemently in front of others.
He is a huge tease, second only to Edd. What's dangerous is how casual he is about it. Loves making you squirm, and he'll never even change his expression. Sometimes he won't even be looking at you, but rest assured that he is swimming in satisfaction over how flustered you are.
Red Leader
I have so many thoughts about him. Oh my lord.
This is going off the scenario where Reader is a Red Army soldier and met him through the army, after the events of The End.
I want to clarify that this is NOT following the events of TBATF!!! This is my own Red Army timeline, what I refer to in my Eddsworld bubble as "The Bad End"
There are two ways that you'd be able to catch Red Leader's attention. Either you are an extremely talented soldier that does well among your peers, enough to earn the praise of your superior officers and eventually Red Leader himself. Or, you were assigned as his personal assistant to help with paperwork and meetings, but you were so good at handling his temper and attitude that he found himself surprised.
The latter of the two is my favorite, so I'll be working under that one.
Before you, Red Leader had been through several assistants. None of them lasted more than a month. By nature, he was a moody, temperamental man. The stress of the army and oncoming war only made that worse. He saw those previous assistants as nuisances, only getting in his way. He would yell at them, berate them, drive them to the brink until they beg Paul and Pat to transfer them.
When they assigned you to him, they expected the same thing to happen. The two even made bets on how long you'd last. On your first day, Red Leader was nasty to you. Gruff and rude. But... you bit back. That took him by surprise. Instead of taking the insult and shuffling out like a puppy with its tail between its legs, you pursed your lips and gave him a stern look and talked to him in a way that nobody dared to. He should've been angry. Should have screamed at you, discharged you from the army in a heartbeat.
Instead, he found that he quite enjoyed it. He enjoyed your spitfire. Not that he'd let you know. He only gave you a noncommittal hum and dismissed you with a wave of his hand. But... he kept you around. Even found excuses for you to come into his office more than necessary. His penchant for teasing came back full force. He'd poke and prod, finding ways to make you react with that fire he so loved.
It takes a long time for him to finally make a move. Probably takes a near-death experience for him, or an injury to you for him to realize that he wants this. He wants a future with you.
At first, he may seem a little cold in public. Not to the degree that his father was - he promised himself that he would never be like his father. Simply a more... professional air about the entire thing. It was more out of anxiety than anything. He didn't want to make you a target, didn't want to cause you to get hurt. As his army grows more powerful and takes over more and more countries, he grows more comfortable with PDA. He knows that when he is the most powerful man in the world, he doesn't have to worry about anyone hurting you.
He would probably treat you more like a spouse than a girlfriend/boyfriend right off the bat. He's older now, thinking more about the future than the present. He already knows that he wants to be with you forever, so why go through the formalities and hassle of dating?
Always makes time for you whenever he can. If he's in a meeting with his generals or another world leader, he'll sneak text messages to you. Doesn't give a shit if he's caught. What are they going to do to him, Red Leader?
If he's cooped up in his office all day, his door is always open to you. Loves having you drop by unannounced to bring him food or coffee. He'll let you climb into his lap while he works, or sit behind him in his chair and cling to him. Even if you're just sitting in a separate chair nearby, working on your own stuff. He's happy.
If you want to continue being a soldier, or his assistant, he'll let you. But he's also perfectly happy to have you simply be his partner and not have a care in the world. You could sit all pretty in his quarters waiting for him to get off duty, or use the time to pursue your own hobbies and interests. As long as you're happy and cared for, it's okay with him.
Spoils you rotten. You're Red Leader's, so of course you only deserve the best things. Anything in the world you want, you only have to ask for it. It's yours. He would raze entire cities just to see you smile.
He does enjoy taking you out on dates. While also spending time with you, he sees it as a way to show you off to the world. Dressing you up in the finest clothes that he got you, the prettiest jewelry that he bought. Taking you to restaurants and operas where everyone can see you hanging on his arm. It makes him puff up with pride.
When the two of you are alone, he's so adoring. Loves snuggling. It's a struggle to convince him to let you out of bed in the mornings, he'll just be clinging to you. If you do somehow manage to escape his grasp, he'll catch you around the waist and drag you back to bed. Won't stop until Paul or Pat message him to get his ass out of bed. He always grumbles about how "it's my damn army, I should get to sleep in as long as I want".
Sometimes, at night, he has pains in his right shoulder, the side where he's burned and amputated. It can range from a dull ache to excruciating pain. On nights that it hurts too much to move, you'll scramble out of bed and get his medication from his nightstand, gently coaxing him to take it. You'll hold him and comfort him until the pain subsides and he falls back asleep.
He doesn't like to talk about it, really. It feels weird, letting anyone see this part of his life. Letting you see his vulnerability. Letting you see him.
But he does.
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