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satoruhour · 8 months

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*runs in*

colllege athlete!au where jjk men see you in their varsity jacket and just goes batshit crazy. They defo win the game afterwards and fuck you in it, best orgasm of your life.

*runs out*

❄️

a/n: MY LORD .......................... YOU JUST UNLOCKED SUM IN ME ICY !!!!! discussions of p -> v sex, unprotected sex, breeding, oral f! receiving, name calling, semi-public sex, long LONG post

gojo would def be the one to suggest it at first. hes even offering to buy two jackets just for you but then youre like “but i dont want you to waste money satoru... plus i want it to smell like you..!” omg that makes gojo cum on the spot lmfao. but is mostly caught off guard when you first wear it - it happens when its the half time of the game and his team is not doing particularly well bc he made u a little upset the night before and he felt bad :( youve been on his mind for the whole game and hes so distracted poor boy. but u also think you were being a little childish in how you reacted, so youre stealing his varsity jacket way earlier than he leaves and hes so confused when that morning he cant find it. shows up to the game in another jacket and got an earful from his coach that no one really likes, and bc theyre doing so badly, at half time the coach didnt want to meet with them for pep talk either. boo fuck the coach but anyway, youre rushing down to the lockets and whatnot in his jacket. feels like straight out of a movie dude omg. that troy and gabriella shit bc gojo is dragged outside and is hugging you close and muttering apologies into your neck, kissing u all over sigh. its gotten him a big boost of adrenaline tho! and as the star player of his team a lot of his teammates feed off of his energy. gojo is the last to leave the locker room, wanting to have a little more time with you. he twirls you around and admires you in his large jacket and makes out with you until he hears the buzzer from outside LOL. gives u a deep kiss, “ill win and fuck you good later, alright princess?” “go get ’em, satoru. i’ll be here always.”

yeah he def fucked you good later on, making you strip out of everything but his jacket and pounded u nice and good in the locker room long after everyone left. made you ride him on the benches, ate you out as you sat on the benches and kept thanking u for being his lucky charm thru all his matches. the grip on your hips were so heavy they were pprobably bruised, and the clanking of the lockers were so noisy it was a wonder you two werent caught. “that’s right, baby— taking my cock like the good girl you are,” you’re pushed up against the university lockers and railed into from brhind, sticking his fingers into your mouth as he made u arch your back in that varsity jacket of his. ooh lord. brought you out on a winning date and fucked u in his car, fucked you back at his home all the while wearing his jacket !!!!!!!

geto has never thought of it personally, but he wonders about it one day, thinking bout you in it without anything and he gets hard as heeellllll. has been wantin to put you in it for the longest time but just didnt have the opportunity to - youre always prepared with a cardigan or jacket of your own or you simply just dont get cold much to suguru’s dismay. so when you’re shivering one day before a game (sometimes they would watch the match before to get a sense of the two teams, and also bc you wanted to travel light handed for the date geto was going to bring you to after), geto’s so so quick to offer up his varsity jacket before you can think of any counter to it. but what you dont tell him is that youve been “avoiding” in a way, just bc you know if u get access to his jacket he will never. get. it. back. you have a knack for stealing his clothes bc geto smells good good and youre addicted to his scent. but either way youre trying not to gasp at the largeness of the jacket ... 🙏 same girl. you’re slipping one arm and then the other, wrapped in the safeness of geto’s jacket and hes trying so hard to show u that he isnt shivering LMFOAOAAOAO thank god the match was ending already and his team was up next. gojo only nods towards you later in the locker room as you stay thru their coach’s talk, smiling sickly bc he just knew what his best friend was going to do afterwards.

soon enough he can hear the cheers of the spectators flood his ears but hes only focused on you running up to him from the bleachers and hugs you close in his sweaty body (which u protest against and laugh about), but hes whispering “you dont mind though, right baby?” yeah you DEF dont mind it when he pulls you into the janitor’s closet and his body is grinding against yours. “was so hard playing through the game, yknow how difficult that is?” you reply back with i cant imagine with a giggle and let him do whatever he wants to you: hes so impatient he cant pull his game pants down all the way and the same goes for you. both your bottoms are stuck atound your thighs, and youre trying to stay quiet in that squeezy closet. it’s hard. youre so wet you dont exactly need foreplay, just maybe some brief fingering which has you whining into his neck and he slips in after. fucks you until the pails and cleaning supplies are falling to the floor and youre hoping to take off the varsity jacket but he refrains you from it, loving the way ur white shirt is turning wet from all your sweat. it’s sloppy, disgusting, juices spurting everywhere and youre so tight from your pressed-together thighs. i guess he has no choice but to put you in a mating press too and he goes so deeeep in that position you moan out loud. “yeah— made to take my cock like a slut, ain’t ya? only natural when you’re lookin’ so good in my jacket.” getos gross and u love it.

nanami fits better as an alumni whos come back for a friendly current students vs alumni match. hes entering the gym with haibara and his two annoying seniors gojo and geto and while they talk a lot of crap theyre great players. nanami comes up to greet you since youre still their manager and hes one year above you. dating across years is a little difficult esp with how nanami was in his last year of uni, and now that hes looking for work while u finish your last year .... it’s hectic thats for sure, but u guys make it work perfectly fine bc nanami prioritises you a lot!! but late youve been busy with midterms and him with settling in with his new job that he almost forgot about today’s match. is met with nostalgia the first time he steps intothe gym again but he never expected you to wear the varsity jacket that’s stuffed deep into your closet. frankly it doesnt fit him at all any mroe but you thought it to be fitting to wear it in this once in a lifetime match (bc hes just so busy!!!! to book a date w/ nanami is like going to the army dawg). nanami’s jaw drops when u first step foot into the gym and oh my god youre going to be the umpire too? he is going to become too distracted, instantly taken back to the many many times hes gotten you trapped in the gym bathroom with his cock in your mouth, or the time you ride him in the empty gym in the corner (it was late at night!!!!), or also the time right after his loss where he took all his anger and frustration out on you, jersey between his teeth as he uses you. something switched in nanami that day when u expressed how much u liked the roughness tee hee. surprisingly hes even more focused, in a way of proving something to himself bc he can probably count on everyone’s hands the number of times hes missed a cue from a teammate before when he was still in school just cause u were wearing his jacket 😭😭😭 man you dont even need to be in the jacket! thats how obsessed he is with u!!!

shoots you a small smile after each point and is trying to hard not to run to you to get a good job kiss. also finds the fact that youre judging appropriately and not showing biasness just cause nanami’s on one team really really hot! the way you call the shots, give the accurate penalties and that booming voice of yours echoing thru out the gym ..... youre so good at being umpire that even the juniors cant deny they lost fair and square and not just cause youre nanami’s girl. altho bc you two are so good at hiding they dont rlly suspect anything until hes kissing you - something that even he isnt that comfy with but he just needed to show off !!!!! that isnt the case when later he has you back in the gym, reminiscent of that one time!!! but nanami found it so hot, hes backing you back up into the quiet gym, illuminated by the moonlight. its way late after dinner and the uni students have gone back to their dorm already while the alumni has departed for their homes and its just you. thank god the gym is also located in a place that is a little secluded and disconnected from the campus so it isnt long before youre both making out against the walls of the gym, moans and sounds echoing in the large hall. “just like old times?” “yeah. except ill be taking my time with you” yeah, u take ur time indeed: the gargling of your mouth and groans of nanami is so disgustingly filthy, slobbering all over his dick and he also eats you out on the floor. when he stretches u out with his fingers you can hear yourself bc youre so wet that you drip to the floor. but none of u give a shit when you settle atop nanami and start riding him needily, bouncing and moaning out his name. the way the sounds of your slapping skin makes it way back to is gross!!!! but so hot!!!! its so lewd !!! you get tired soon enough and nanami thrusts up into you with whispers of ur name in the gym. u do that hot thing where you pull up your shirt and pull down ur bra so your tits r spilling out .... OOOOOOHH it gets nanami cumming instantly, esp with the large frame of the varsity jacket on you that he cums more than usual <3333

toji, rather than a player, is a coach for the team. youre the manager whos helping with all the admin stuff and waterbottles/towels and with moral in the team - kind of like kiyoko and yachi in hq, but when u show up always no one knows whose varsity jacket youre wearing. they all speculate between themselves and have their thoughts but the team members never suspect that it’s their own coaches one. it looks too similar to the team’s with no name on the back, the sewing is exactly the same and the small logo of their team takes its place on the left breast as usual. but they never bother to check the inside where toji has made a large blotched ‘T’ on the label and your name squeezed in on the underside. toji loves to see it on you, esp in games and while hed love to see it on you outside of it he cant run the risk that he’s dating the manager. but he also especially loves it when you surprise him at home: wearing his jacket with nothing but your panties, prancing around and doing chores as he comes back from another gruelling match. ohhhh the things he’d do to you... but the best is when you do it in public. that changes the whole game

you’re helping with practice here and there, picking up the stray shuttlecocks/volleyballs/whatever sport around the gym as they practice their drills, but toji realises you dont reach over and bend like you usually do - normally youd do it when you know toji’s the only one to be standing behind you so he can see your panties under the short skirt but you dont do ANYTHING so he wonders if he did smtg wrong. but also you’re squatting down to pick up things? it’s only later when you saunter up to him as his team is distracted and you unzip the jacket just a little and he gets the glimpse of the lingerie set he bought you and very very riskily bringing his hand down to your centre where you’re bare. toji groans to himself when he feels that youre already so wet, playing with your folds just barely until his student calls out to him and youre both shocked out of your daze. “you’re in for it, doll.” takes u to the equipment room, and fucks right after dismissing the team. “doing this typa shit in front of the boys? dirty girl.” youre holding onto the shelves of the equipment and it’s rattling so much that things are tethering so close to the edge, it’s insanity. the sight of his cock disappearing into you while you wear that short skirt is just pure serotonin for him, plus your moans echo a lot throughout the room along with the slapping of ur skin. stuffs the collar of the varsity jacket into your mouth to keep you quiet as he cums in you <3333 “look at that...” sighs when he removes his cock from you and cum drips to the floor, “my pretty manager.”

OKAY BYE . I NEED TO BE SPAYED.

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peachesofteal · 2 months

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ghoap x reader / 18+ mdni / dark themes / prev here

‘C’mon, you never want to go out.”

You rub your temples, eyes closed in exasperation. “I’m broke, Case.”

“I’ll spot you. Come on, it’s Friday. I’ll get us into The Rook.” She pleads and pushes, tugging away your excuses and defenses until you’re backed into a corner with nowhere to run. Finally, you opt for a different tactic, lamely.

“Doesn’t that place have a waiting list?”

“Oh yeah, miles long. But the owner likes me.” The owner. How does she even know the owner of The Rook?

“I don’t know…” you linger, still bent over your tiny kitchen table, back bowed and tired, “isn’t it like, dangerous?”

“The Rook is neutral ground or something, I don’t know. It’s perfectly fine, I’ve been dozens of times.” A litany of stories exists about the speakeasy, from its origins to the current clientele, each as unbelievable as the next, and you’ve always imagined it to be this dark den of sin and debauchery, filled to brim with hitmen and lawlessness. “You have to do something other than work and sleep; you know. You’re missing out on your whole life.” She chides, attempting to launch into the same speech she repeats over and over every few weeks.

“Alright, alright,” you look down at your torn up cuticles and sigh, “I’ll go.”

You weren’t wrong about The Rook being dark.

It’s hollowed out under a club, nooks and crannies and little hallways splitting off in every direction, dim lamps and flickering candlelight casting shadows to the ceiling, bartenders dressed in all black working behind a massive, burnished wood bar along the back wall. Velvet couches, high top tables, overstuff armchairs flow in the space, and Case tells you there are more rooms if you’re keen to explore, explaining in hushed tones how there’s usually a band in one, a card game of sorts in another, a pool table somewhere, all with various styles of seating, and even another bar. It's elegant, decadent, sinful. Most of the people are startlingly beautiful, high heels and skintight dresses, perfectly made-up faces, polished onyx cuff links gleaming against expensive navy suits.

Even the drinks are licentious.

You decidedly do not belong here. Perched on a stool next to Case, you occasionally rub your wrists, casually wondering if it would have been acceptable to wear your braces, your carpal tunnel flaring into a swell of agony.

Wouldn’t that be a sight.

The bartender slides her two generous neat pours of… something, and you raise an eyebrow.

“On the house, from the boss.” He says with a wink, and she tips her head to ceiling with a bubble of a laughter, before pressing one of the tumblers into your hand.

“What is it?”

“Probably bourbon.”

“Oh, no thanks, I don’t-“

“Just shoot it.” She throws it back with ease, showing her teeth afterwards, a hyena leering in the lamplight.

Fuck it. Maybe it will the throbbing in your wrists will quiet down.

It’s thick, syrupy, hot in your throat. Burns all the way down and settles like lava in your stomach, uncomfortable until the sting ebbs into warmth, moving through your bones.

“Not bad.” You rasp, and she smiles.

There are more free drinks. They stick to your insides like tar, slicking you in a heavy cotton, weighing your limbs down, loosening the tension in your neck and shoulders, peeling away your layers of discomfort one by one.

You’re surprised by how at home Case seems in this place, how comfortable she is, smiling and waving to the occasional person, making small talk here and there. She practically floats in her seat, black dress taut against every dimple and dip on her body, hair artfully twisted into something that could be considered modern art. She’s a gazelle. A heron. Something graceful and gorgeous, fine feathered and fabulous.

And you’re… a tired girl in a tired dress, counting her lucky stars that there seem to be so many generous patrons buying drinks tonight.

“Having fun?” She whispers, nudging you with her shoulder.

“How often do you come here?” Her eyes wander, flicking past you and then back, wistful caution etched across her brow.

“Often enough,” She sips her drink and then folds her hands together on the bar top, looking over shoulder, “Most of these people in here… are connected to organized crime somehow.” The information doesn’t surprise you, but hearing it confirmed, knowing it’s not just some story made up, some fairytale about boogeymen, makes you shiver.

“Like, the mafia?”

“The mafia is Italian, but they have a presence in the city.” She shrugs, like it’s all common knowledge. Like you’re out of the loop. “The Rook belongs to Kyle Garrick.” You shake your head, unfamiliar. “Of The 141?” your mouth goes dry.

The 141.

The 141 were a notorious organized crime group who ran half, if not more, of the city. You knew they owned clubs, bars, restaurants, and hotels, but you were never clear on the details of their illegitimate work, and you didn’t want to know.

You knew, for sure: they were men to be feared. Men capable of terrible things. Destruction. Death.

Their ongoing war with The Shadows was the reason the city was soaked in blood.

“Don’t worry,” she rushes out, hand on your arm, “like I said, It’s neutral here. Nothing happens in The Rook.” You nod meekly, head swimming. You’re more than drunk now, stuck in a sloshing ship, floor tilting beneath your feet. The urge to get away, to disappear slams into you like a truck, and you slip off the stool.

“Which way is the bathroom?” She points to one of those dark hallways, and you stumble through the throngs of people like a fresh born fawn, unsteady and teetering on the edge, approaching a hallway that splits into two.

Which way?

You pick one, sure you’ll run into someone who can point you in the right direction, but when it zigs and zags up to a polished wooden door, you stop short, confused. The alcohol has rendered you fuzzy, and your vision spins, trying to look for a recognizable placard.

Is this the bathroom?

It must be.

The first thing you realize when you push the door open, is a chorus of men’s voices, stopping on a dime. You hear them, before you see them, and immediately try to backpedal, tugging the door handle towards you, trying to close it. You’re wayward, with heavy, tired feet, and the movement is slow, slow enough that an opposing force pulls on the other side and then-

rips.

You fly forward into the room, dragged by your grip on the handle, spilling onto your knees with a shocked gasp, and someone curses in the background, another voice barking out a name.

Then, the room goes Sunday church service silent.

You gape at the table of men, transfixed in horror on the two familiar faces staring back at you, the unforgettable Scot and his marble etched partner, who was just in the shop only two days ago. They’re frozen, half risen from their seats, a cigarette burning away in an ash tray filling the air with smoke.

There’s a nickel-plated flash, and your blood curdles.

He has a gun.

“I…” you croak, still on your knees, unable to categorize or rationalize why you’re seeing them here, why one of them has a gun, why any of this is happening. “I’m sorry, I was lo-looking for the bathroom.” There are many men in this room, you realize. More than just the two you’re acquainted with, and your stomach rolls, nausea creeping forward, trying to bring the too many drinks you’ve consumed up through your mouth. “I’m sorry.” You say again, more clearly.

Obviously, you’re interrupting something.

“These aren’t the toilets, little girl.” A Russian voice booms over your head. “Unless you’re going to piss on the floor for us?”

“Nikolai.” The blonde cuts, Manchester accent rougher than sandpaper, and you shake your head frantically.

“N-no, I just got turned around, that’s all.” Your brain screams at you to get up, but your body is immobile, and you look away in fear.

A warm hand takes yours, tanned skin soft and sweet, gentle touch urging your face back up.

“It’s alright, doe. Ye’re alright.” It’s the Scot, crooning in your ear, wrapping an arm around your waist to bring you to your feet. “Let’s get ye to the bathroom then, aye?” You lean against him, breathing in cypress and ocean spray, letting him guide you out of the room, his partner right at your back.

“We’re not finished.” Someone calls out, and the bigger man clips out a response.

“We are now.”

#ghoap x reader #peaches writes #simon riley #simon riley x reader #john soap mactavish #soap x reader

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saerins · 11 months

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𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖…

+ itoshi sae x f!reader | wc 2.5k | content: fluff, pining, mentions of fake dating, jealousy, reader is kind of an idiot, sae loves to tease, best friend otoya, cussing

notes: hello hello i’m on board the sae love train once more , are you guys still with me ^_^

summary: what do you do when your best friend kind of sort of forces you to confess your two-year long crush when you’re not ready to? pray and hope for the best.

“i could just tell him for you.”

“eita, fuck no,” you throw him a warning glare as you chop the vegetables up with scary precision despite not having an eye on them. only because you know if you don’t explicitly tell him not to, that he’d think it’s no big deal and do it anyway.

and let’s say, you’d rather die than let that happen.

sure, you and sae had been closer back in high school; he sat behind you and entertained the secret notes you passed to him, he used to ruffle the top of your head whenever you pouted, he used to buy food for you during breaks.

but that’s all in the past and somehow, the both of you had drifted since then.

otoya deadpans, an unamused pair of eyes looking back at you from their spot across the island. “it’s been what, four fucking years since you graduated? grow a pair,” he retorts, attempting to steal a carrot but getting a slap on the back of his hand instead.

“bold of you to say that to a girl with a knife,” you snap at him, pointing the blade at his face.

to which he merely rolls his eyes, using two fingers to push it aside. “not like you’re that good at using it.” but he sighs when you silently turn your attention back to chopping vegetables. “does that mean i have to put up with your miserable face even longer?”

you and otoya continue to bicker, and you’re beginning to wonder how you’ve tolerated being best friends with him for the past four years. he’s a real piece of work.

“fine, fine,” otoya grumbles after you’re done with lunch, bangs over his eyes. “i promise i won’t tell sae anything, okay?”

that’s after you threatened not to let him hijack your house anymore for food. for someone who’s earning big bucks being a famous soccer player, you can’t make sense of why he won’t just get food delivered. maybe he just likes to annoy you.

“good. or else i’ll kill you.”

your crush on itoshi sae has been somewhat dormant for the past few years. and by dormant you mean that you haven’t tried making any moves because you’re too scared.

itoshi sae. one of the most famous international breakout stars in soccer. one of the most talented playmakers the world has ever seen. that comes with its own sets of pros and cons.

pros? he definitely doesn’t seem like he has much trouble doing anything he wants. he gets paid for every game. he gets paid for gigs. he gets sponsorships all over the place. which basically means that financially, he doesn’t need to give a shit.

cons? the media can be brutal. sae does something that’s remotely questionable and they’re all over it. he doesn’t thank a waiter that one time? automatically labeled as a rude brat by the paparazzi. and not to mention—the amount of girls he’s forced to fake date just for the sake of publicity.

you’re mostly pressed on that last part though, because they’re all supermodels or olympic stars or rich socialites. and compared to them, well, you’re just someone who happens to be in the same friend group and hang out together every once in a while when he’s back in japan. sae doesn’t even hang out much with the group, to your dismay.

it’s a pain, or so he says.

you wonder how you drifted in the first place. maybe it’s just the fame. you wonder if he thinks of you too sometimes.

must be your wishful thinking.

kind of makes you wonder whether he does have a secret girlfriend that he’s keeping from everyone. you wouldn’t really put it past him. it’s not like he has any super deep emotional bonds with any of you (that you know of). eita says he’s definitely single, but you think he’s just saying that to appease you. he already has his hands full having to watch you mope whenever you see news of sae and another girl and yet another dating rumor.

just as well. you think sae could do better than you, spending your friday nights at home, washing dishes at the sink and looking out at the tokyo skyline instead of out partying and living life with countless friends.

you don’t think you’re too shabby though. you’re a fresh graduate with a job at one of the most prestigious companies in tokyo you can think of. it’s not bad. but you can’t help but feel it’s worlds away from the one sae lives in.

the doorbell rings, snapping you out of your thoughts, nearly dropping the white marble plate you’re washing. your eyes snap to the clock in the living room. it’s almost 9pm—right about the time when eita usually comes knocking and asking you for supper.

groaning, you wash whatever’s left of the dish soap away from your hands and sloppily dry them against the bottom of your shirt, grumbling out loud about how you really should stop coming here whenever the fuck you want, eita while you stomp over to the front door.

you open the door, messy hair and bare face and baggy clothes, fully expecting to smack some sense into otoya eita when you feel yourself freeze up at the pair of eyes looking back at you.

they’re teal and framed by pretty long lashes and definitely don’t belong to your best friend.

what the fuck is he doing here?

this is one of the rare times that you’d actually prefer to see eita at your front door instead.

sae raises a brow, giving you a once-over. of course, he’s never seen you in this state—hair disheveled, clothes wrinkled, not a trace of makeup on your face. you’d made sure that whenever there was a possibility that sae would see you that you dressed yourself up as nice as possible. if you’d known he was coming over, you’d have at least dressed decently. definitely not baggy shirt and pants that you can barely see.

“uh… w-what are you doing here?” stupid, but the best you can manage.

he has his hands in his gray sweat pockets, and fuck him for wearing a black compression top. you can just make out the outline of his abs under there, the muscles on his arms already much too obvious with those short sleeves.

“dunno, eita said there was an emergency and i needed to get here,” sae says, wholly unbothered, monotonous as usual. he lets himself in, toeing his shoes off at the entryway, positioning them neatly beside your everyday sneakers.

fucking eita.

judging by what you know, sae was probably on his way for an evening jog when otoya called him. he still has his wireless earbuds in. you wonder if anything’s even playing.

sae takes it off once he catches you staring.

he’s not carrying anything. it’s just him. you wonder if anyone managed to catch him coming over. is his most recent pr stunt already over? won’t do either of you any good if he’s labeled as a cheater.

“so? what is it?” sae asks you, again, while he walks himself inside, curious eyes looking around your apartment, and suddenly you’re hyper aware. you hope to god you didn’t leave any of your inner wear lying around at random places.

in a panic, you rush over to him, blocking his path inside, both hands on his chest as you attempt to push him back to the front door. unfortunately for you, sae’s much stronger than you are, his body not budging an inch.

“it’s nothing, he made a mistake,” you sigh, giving up when you figure that sae’s only going to move of his own accord. “he’s probably just playing a prank on you, that’s all.”

you’re hoping, praying, wishing that sae will just take your word for it and go. because that’s what he does; he doesn’t hover much, doesn’t care about anything much at all. you don’t even know the last time he’s asked about how any of your lives are doing.

the world must hate you though, because sae only offers a grunt in response before looking towards your kitchen (you’re internally sighing in relief, glad that you cleaned your kitchen up before this). “i’m thirsty, you have anything to drink?”

you blink at him, stumped that sae is wasting his precious time in your apartment, but who are you to say no to sae, of all people?

“yeah, sure, juice?”

sae shrugs, “whatever.”

you turn your back on him, slowly taking your carton of apple juice and finding the nicest glass that exists in your cupboard, cursing yourself internally for not preparing for unexpected guests enough. you do this slowly partly because you’re trying to calm your stupid heart down, still not fathoming why on earth sae’s wasting his time with you.

carefully, you rehearse yourself in your head, where you’re going to step, how you’re going to walk over to him—you really are just hopeless. count it your bad luck that the moment you turn around, you nearly drop the glass because you’re forgetting a really fundamental issue here: your merch.

“no no no, uh—” you leave the glass on the countertop, scurrying over to where sae’s staring and thumbing at something on your coffee table.

sae looks at your flustered reaction, giving you way to grab your things off the table and stuff them in the drawer where they’re out of sight. he blinks at you, a slight amusement bubbling inside him.

“wow, big fan, huh?”

you don’t know what’s worse: you being your most unpresentable self right now or that sae just caught you having some of his merch.

“so you have some of eita’s merch lying around too or is it just mine?”

you could die of embarrassment right now.

back still turned to sae, you desperately search your brain for answers. thinking on the spot doesn’t seem like your strong suit right now.

“it… was a gift.” believable, right?

sae hums, as though he’s contemplating. “why just mine then? why not oliver’s or my brother’s?”

fuck.

“i don’t know, maybe yours was the only one that wasn’t sold out.”

“ouch.”

you didn’t mean to indirectly insult him but what’s a drowning girl to do?

sae sighs when you keep quiet, still staying out where you are, trembling too much to move. “didn’t know you were in love with me.”

this time, you whip your head around to face him—that same stoic expression of his unchanging on his face. “am not!”

his brows shoot up. “but you bought some of my merch.”

“i told you, it was a gift.”

you need to get paid for still standing up on your own two feet right now. your head’s way too giddy from the interaction, considering.

“even that figurine over there?” sae’s finger points to a small toy just barely visible behind the nooks of the bookshelf. it’s a small figurine; something sold a few years back when sae was just first starting out. you’d bought it because, well, you’d thought chibi sae looked cuter than actual sae. (especially now when he’s just staring blankly at you.)

“that was…”

“a gift?”

you think he’s making fun of you now at this point.

“anyway, we’ve established that there’s no emergency here so why don’t you just go?” you’re pretty sure sae won’t ever talk to you again—not after coming across what he did tonight. he probably thinks you’re a freak, probably questions why he even considers you his friend (to which you’re now wondering if that’s even true at all).

you make a mental reminder to yourself to kill otoya eita tomorrow.

sae lets you push him towards the entryway, apple juice long forgotten on the countertop, collecting condensation with water pooling below the glass.

“you must like me a lot, huh?” he ponders out loud as you continue pushing him towards the door. you see a hint of cockiness in his stare now, the slightest tug of a smirk on the corner of his lips.

“i do n—”

“be careful what you say,” sae cuts you off, toeing his shoes back on, looking glamorous as ever and you nearly forget that he looks straight out of a magazine even in his sportswear. “‘cause i’ll believe you.”

part of you wants him to just go already so your knees can buckle under, but part of you wants to ask him what he means. what’s he insinuating? isn’t the answer clear enough.

but now it’s way past nine and he’s all ready to go yet he’s still standing at your doorway, waiting for your answer. you want to scream no, you want to keep your secret safe, you don’t want him to know about the crush you’d been harbouring. but he told you to be careful what you say because he’ll believe you.

“s-so what if i do?” you stutter, failing to look him in the eyes, your stare focused on the air in between you.

sae’s features soften ever so slightly, like he wasn’t expecting you to give in so quickly, but it isn’t one of disgust. it’s more like one of pleasant surprise.

after what seems like an eternity, sae finally opens his mouth.

“you must’ve gotten jealous a lot with all those girls i’d gone out with.”

your fist instinctively connect with his arm, his stoic finally giving way to a grimace, palm rubbing his triceps in pain. out of all the things to say, he chooses to say that? you think he deserves it.

“you know what, sae? you can go back to your fake girlfriends, i could care less,” you snap at him, pouting. you hate that despite how ignorant his words are that you can’t find it in yourself to hate him.

sae exhales sharply, chuckling softly when he sees your pout, and you feel as though it’s the first time you’ve seen him like this even though it’s not. his hand comes up to ruffle the top of your head gently, and you’re reminded of when he did this to you back in high school.

“can’t do that, can i?” he tells you, that soft disposition gone and the stoic mischief coming right back. “not when i’m in front of who could be my real girlfriend.”

your heart might’ve forgotten how to beat.

sae leaves you standing there, left to your own devices as he exits your apartment, fully aware of his effect on you.

not long after he leaves (while you’re still standing in the doorway), your phone buzzes in your pocket. you fish it out and see his name there for the first time in a long time.

you smile to yourself as you read his message. okay, so maybe you’ll spare eita’s life for now.

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hgfictionwriter · 1 month

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Comfort

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Jessie's surrounded by star athletes day in and day out - and you're not one of them. Sometimes you can't help but wonder why she chose you or if you fit in.

Warning: Smut. Language.

A/N: A bit of angst, but mostly comfort and reassurance. Written in response to this request.

“Okay, who’s ready for a game of pick-up?”

Your stomach sank as you looked over your shoulder to see Morgan holding up a ball before dropping it and skillfully lobbying it over to Sam.

Excited chatter started up and people started to move towards the field. You remained rooted to the ground as they navigated around you.

You were at a park with Jessie and a bunch of her teammates for a Saturday afternoon BBQ. The day had been fun so far, you got along with her teammates well and you’d been having a good time. You shouldn’t have been surprised that football would work its way into the day, regardless, you were hoping otherwise.

While everyone here was a star football player, most even Olympic medal athletes, you were just…well, you.

Somehow, you found yourself as the lucky recipient of Jessie’s love and affection. And for the most part, things were amazing. Falling in love with Jessie was easy and she said the same with you, but still there were moments, like this one, where you really felt like you didn’t fit in.

The girls were splitting themselves into teams and Janine waved you over.

“Come on. It’s just for fun!”

You gave her a wave of thanks and shooed her off, and she eventually relented. Yeah - like you were going to go out there and end up keeled over after 5 minutes of half-ass running while they sprinted circles around you. Worst part being that would’ve been them legitimately going easy on you.

“Here, split this with me.”

Your stomach fell further. Jessie. Your sweet Jessie. Who would never abandon you or make you feel left out.

“Go on, Jess,” you told her gently as you turned to face her, seeing her holding up a drink and two cups. You mustered up a smile and nodded to the field. “I’m okay, really.”

“I play football pretty much every day of my life. I’ll survive,” she laughed. “I’d much rather have a drink and conversation with you.”

“Jessie…,” you trailed off, some of the defeat bleeding into your voice.

“Come on, sit with me,” she encouraged as she set down the drinks and pulled together a couple of lawn chairs.

You offered her a tight smile and sat down. You should try to be graceful about it all.

“My bet’s on Morgan’s team,” you told her, trying to rid your voice of the heaviness you felt. “Loser buys dinner next.” Jessie gave you a dazzling smile.

“Deal.”

—————

“What’s on your mind? You’ve seemed a little off all afternoon.”

You sighed internally, disappointed in yourself for not better masking the funk you were in.

You nestled your head in a bit to Jessie’s shoulder as you laid in her bed together that evening.

“It’s nothing, really.” You answered and hoped Jessie would drop it. Her fingers idly grazed along the side of your arm, her head leaned against yours.

“Okay. But you’ve seemed a bit…I don’t know, yeah, just off, since the park,” she said. “Did I do something wrong?”

You lifted yourself up to look down at her with a concerned frown.

“Not at all. You’re amazing. Seriously,” you went on before laying back down and wrapping an arm across her torso. You exhaled slowly. “Maybe a little too amazing.”

This obviously caught her attention. You felt her shift and angle herself to try to catch your eye. You pulled her back down onto the bed and though she relented, she asked, “What are you talking about?”

You huffed, more-so in irritation with yourself than anything. Eventually, you sat up, though your legs remained entwined with hers. You distractedly played with the hem of your pyjama shirt.

“I-” You faltered and rolled your eyes. She sat up with you and grasped your hand gently. “I guess I’m just feeling a bit self-conscious.” You looked to her and she watched you quietly, giving you space to speak.

“I mean, I obviously knew going into this that you’re a title-winning, medal-winning, all-star athlete and I’m clearly not, but,” you paused, taking a breath to swallow your doubts and forge on, “I guess I just felt very out of place today.” You watched as a subtle frown formed on her face.

“In what sense?” She asked. “The team loves you.”

“I know,” you relented, “but don’t you ever feel a bit embarrassed that I’m the only one who's not an athlete? I'm, I don't know, average? You had to skip out on the game because of me. And if we ever do physical activities as I group I can’t keep up. And I can’t relate when you’re all talking about training and diets and all of that. I just don’t live in your world. I don’t want you to make accommodations for me or to hinder you in any way. I'm sure everyone expected you to date another athlete. Not even necessarily a football player, but anyone in that world.”

“Baby.” To your surprise Jessie was nearly smiling. “That’s what this is about? I’m so sorry that you’re feeling that way. Have you felt like this before?”

You looked away and shrugged. “Now and then. I try not to let myself get caught up in it.”

“Babe. I wish you would’ve told me,” she said, somewhat chiding but with evident affection. “But I’m glad you told me now. Hey, look at me,” she instructed gently as she grabbed your other hand, now holding both. She went on once you reluctantly met her gaze.

“I don’t need you to be an athlete. In fact, one of the things that drew me to you was how you aren’t one. I don’t care if you can run 2 minutes or 120. What I care about is that I feel so connected to you, how we can talk for hours, how we laugh together, how we support each other. And I’m sorry that I’ve left you feeling like you fall short in some way when it’s just the opposite.”

You gave her a small look and she lifted a hand to tuck your hair behind your ear.

“I’m surrounded by football players and sports people all day every day. If that was something I was looking for, I’d say I’d have my pick. But that’s not important to me. And even if it doesn’t seem like it right now, there is life after football for me. Above everything I just need you to know that I love you and I wouldn’t change anything about you.”

You leaned in and wrapped your arms around her, tucking your head into the crook of her neck.

“Thank you. That means so much. I’m sorry I got in my head,” you told her. She kissed your crown.

“Please tell me anytime you’re feeling a little down or insecure. I’m here for you. And I’m happy to reassure you any time you need.”

“Even if I don’t have a 6-pack,” you joked.

“Mm, come on, baby. You know how irresistible I find you,” she said, tone now changing as her hand snuck under the back of your top and her fingers traced along the band of your shorts.

You hummed into her neck as a small shiver went up your spine. Your hips shifted restlessly as a sensation began to stir between your legs.

Jessie moved slightly, causing you to sit up with a pouting look. She smiled at you and leaned in to capture your lips before grasping your hips and shifting you both so she was sitting with her back against the headboard and you were leaned back against her torso, nestled between her legs. She gently brushed your hair to the side and began laying soft, tender kisses along your neck. A small moan worked its way up your throat.

"You're so beautiful." Jessie spoke softly as she continued to lay teasing kisses. "And I want you all the time."

One of Jessie's hands reached up your shirt and cupped one of your breasts, which she began to slowly knead. You let your head fall back against her shoulder, inadvertently opening your neck further up for her, which she took advantage of, now pulling the soft skin gently between her teeth and grazing her tongue along it.

"Jessie," her name already needy on your lips.

"Yes, my love?" She asked rhetorically as she brought her other hand up to rest on your stomach before inching down and sneaking beneath your shorts and the band of your underwear. You rolled your head back further against her in anticipation and you reached down, splaying your fingers out against her thighs and gently digging your nails into the firm muscles you found there. She instinctively rolled her hips up against you and groaned into your neck.

"Baby. You have no idea what you do to me. You get me so wet with just a touch," she whispered against you, goosebumps forming on your skin in response.

"Please don't tease me," you pleaded, hips helplessly thrusting up against the hand that lay achingly close to your clit, but refusing to go over the edge and make contact. You brought your hand up to cup the back of her neck before running your fingers through her hair.

She chuckled against your neck, breath warm and tickling, before she reached further down. Her fingers gently parted your lips, tracing down and you inhaled sharply with a hissing sound.

"I love the way you feel in my arms," Jessie said as she began to kiss the shell of your ear. A shuddering breath escaped you and you rocked your hips against her fingers, looking for more contact. "And I love the way you move for me."

You released a moan as she ground her hips against you and her fingers found your clit, two fingers settling on it and gently, but firmly circling.

"Oh God," you breathed. You could feel your arousal growing and starting to pool at your entrance as she continued to work your clit and trailed her tongue slowly along your earlobe. You began to claw at the back of her head and she groaned low in her throat.

"I couldn't want anyone more," she told you, now switching her hand to your other breast and pulling you tighter against her. Her other hand and fingers remained steady on your clit, dipping down between your folds now and then and prolonging your pleasure. Soft, wet sounds now came from between your legs with each motion of her fingers.

Soon, your hips were moving in time with hers as her breathing began to grow heavier in your ear and only turning you on more. Her fingers continued to attentively explore your slick lips and always returning to your sensitive bud, each time causing you to melt further into her arms and she embraced you without fail.

Your head was turned in towards hers now and you were tugging at her hair as your peak approached. Your hips began to stutter against her fingers, jaw slack and eyes closed.

Suddenly, she withdrew her fingers, your eyes reluctantly opening at the unexpected loss. You tilted your head back to look at her and you saw her eyes trained steadfast on you.

"I want to see you," she said, her voice thick and needy as she began to maneuver you both. She turned you around and kissed your neck hungrily as she began to peel off your clothes. "God, you look amazing," she breathed in admiration as her eyes devoured you.

She laid back on the bed and pulled you on top of her so you were straddling her waist. Her hand was cupping your heat, fingers languidly massaging you as you settled in and looked down at her.

You leaned down, bracing your hands on her chest as you kissed her deeply. The kiss was interrupted, your mouth falling agape as she sunk two fingers inside of you, her thumb now nestled on your clit.

You let out a high moan, tossing your head back and pushing your hips back against her hand.

"Fuck, baby. You're so wet," she said as her thumb began to circle your clit again.

"How can I not be?" You managed to say, pulling a small smirk out of her. She rushed up to meet you, kissing you deeply and wrapping her free arm around your waist before pulling you back down with her onto the bed.

You kissed each other hot and heavy, contact only breaking when high moans fell from your lips as Jessie held you close and steadily pushed in and out of you.

"I'll never get over how good you feel around me," she whispered into your kiss as you rocked against her, your arousal pooling in her palm. "You're perfect for me."

Her strokes were deep and measured, each sending waves of pleasure through you. Between that, passionate kisses and her words of adoration, it felt like she was engulfing you in the most amazing way possible. It wasn't long before you drew a deep, sharp breath and you began to spasm around her thick, generous fingers.

"Oh fuck," you breathed, clutching yourself to her, "Jessie. Oh my god."

"I love you," she responded as she held you tightly through your orgasm. She kissed your face as your body shuddered.

Several moments passed and you eventually collapsed on top of her. She held herself inside of you and slowly played with your hair, laying lingering kisses along your temple as you caught your breath.

You lay in each others arms, neither of you feeling the need to speak. You continued to rest your head against her shoulder and she relished the feeling of your body on top of hers.

Eventually, she spoke, her voice soft to not disturb the mood too much.

"Can I get you some water?"

You shook your head. "No. Stay with me." She nodded against you and gave you a light squeeze.

"Always."

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #woso #woso community #woso x reader #jflem #woso imagine #canwnt

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edgy-ella · 6 months

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IDW SONIC READERS, PLEASE READ THIS!!!!

I am begging you. On my hands and knees. Begging. More so than anything else I’ve asked of this fandom.

Please please buy the Fang miniseries when it comes out

Don’t just read it. Buy it. I will admit that I’m very guilty of reading through a lot of IDW Sonic through…less than legal means, and I know I’m not alone in that regard. But I think it’s really important that for this miniseries in particular, you actually go out and buy the damn thing. Show your support with your dollar.

Really think about it for a second—they gave Fang his own miniseries. Fang! An underutilized, underrated fan favorite for sure, but hardly a mainstay of the series. I’m sure that this was at least somewhat prompted by Superstars, where Fang is a major antagonist…but Bean and Bark weren’t in that game, and it already received its own online promo comic prior to the game’s release (notably, with Fang as the star).

Classic Sonic stories have also exclusively been relegated to one-shots in IDW, not a full on miniseries like what Fang is getting. Basically all of the IDW Sonic miniseries we’ve gotten so far have been plot relevant side stories to the main IDW comic that focus on side characters with little to no involvement from Sonic himself. Tangle and Whisper, Bad Guys, Impostor Syndrome…the only odd man out besides this Fang miniseries is Scrapnik Island.

Really think about it for a second. FANG is getting his own focus comic BEFORE KNUCKLES.

And that’s why it’s so important that we buy it.

I think Sega is using this comic to test the waters to see if people like Fang and want to see him in more future projects—be it comics, games, or even cartoons. But there’s more to it than just that.

See, Superstars hasn’t been doing that great. I know I said in an earlier post that people seemed to like it, but I retract that statement. It was damned by faint praise at launch, and now most of the discussion I’ve seen surrounding the game revolves around its flaws (chief among them being the middling OST and that the Steam version stealth installs an Epic Games service along with the game). No sales numbers have been projected as of writing, but it’s definitely been beaten out by Mario Wonder and Spider-Man 2.

So, Classic Sonic games aren’t doing too hot right now (I’m sure that many modern fans are jumping for joy at the prospect). But the classic characters are.

People really like the extended classic Sonic cast, just as much as they love the extended modern cast. From my experience, the two fan favorites are Mighty and Fang. Fang stands out to me in particular for a couple reasons: people were really upset that Sega specifically said no to Fang, Bark and Bean coming back after Ian snuck in a reference to them in IDW Sonic #3 (using their old team name from Archie, the Hooligans), and the fanmade 16-bit remake of Triple Trouble, Fang’s debut game, received private praise from many members of Sega and Sonic Team. People like Fang and the media he’s in, and Sega is starting to take notice. That’s why we’re getting this miniseries.

That’s why it’s so important that the miniseries sells well. If the big boys at Sega and Sonic Team see Superstars’ iffy reception but see Fang’s comic sell above expectations, then Sega will want to continue to use Fang (and potentially other “classic” Sonic characters as well) in more narrative driven projects. That means modern Sonic.

“But Sega won’t let any classic Sonic character into a modern Sonic project!” I hear you thinking. And to that I say, so? Sega changes its mind all the time. Remember that whole two worlds nonsense? That was thrown out with in Tailstube. Characters debuting in Boom and the comics were previously barred from the mainline games, but they’ve broken that “rule” in both Speed Battle and Frontiers. Hell, they’ve even been talked out of some of their sillier comic mandates, like characters not being able to wear different clothing.

For all their flaws, Sega does listen, and money speaks louder than anything. If this miniseries fails, Sega will just assume that people aren’t hot on Fang or the extended classic cast anymore and throw them back in the bar. But if the comic sells well, then Sega might take it as a sign that, hey, people like this character (and his two lackeys), we should put him in projects that fans are more interested in. Mighty and Ray probably wouldn’t be too far behind, especially given Mania’s success. Whether that means comics or games, modern or classic, who knows. What’s important is that it sends the right message to Sega, and they will listen to their consumers. That means us. If we don’t support this miniseries now, we might have to wait another thirty years for another chance.

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lilacmingi · 6 months

Text

NIGHTS LIKE THESE

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you are under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works

Pairing: Seonghwa x fem reader

Word count: 890

Note: It’s 4 AM and the need to write a soft imagine about playing with Seonghwa’s hair was too strong I HAD TO GET IT OUT OF MY SYSTEM THIS WAS ONLY SUPPOSED TO BE LIKE 300 WORDS BUT I GOT CARRIED AWAY

Seonghwa lied on his stomach, stretched across the expanse of his bed, his Nintendo Switch clutched between his hands as he played Animal Crossing, winding down after a long day of promotions. You sat beside him, watching as he moved his avatar across his camp, the miniature version of himself stopping to greet villagers and give them gifts to level up his friendships.

It was peaceful. You relished in moments like this where the both of you were completely silent, basking in each other’s presence while doing your own things, or doing nothing at all.

Your eyes drifted from the screen to the top of Seonghwa's head. He had recently grown his hair out and you were loving it. Since he had showered earlier that night it was flat and in it's natural state, the light from his desk lamp hitting the shiny brown strands and giving him a natural halo. The sight was tempting and had your fingers twitching in your lap.

Unable to keep your hands to yourself, you reached forward and carded your fingers through his soft tresses, the silky strands feeling like ribbons between your fingers. Seonghwa visibly relaxed under your touch, a soft sigh leaving his pretty lips.

"That feels good." He murmured.

You chuckled softly, lifting a strand and twirling it around your index finger, watching the way it uncurled when you released it.

Does he know how beautiful he is? You wondered, taking a piece of his hair and separating it into three strands to braid.

Your fingers worked diligently while you watched Seonghwa's Animal Crossing character cast his fishing lure out into the ocean, waiting for the shadow of a fish to approach. Once the chunk of hair was fully braided you released it, running your fingers through it and separating the twisted pieces, combing your nails through his hair a few times to get all the strands back in order.

A gasp came from your boyfriend just a few seconds later making you jump slightly, momentarily concerned that you had hurt him.

"Babe, look! I caught a Mahi-Mahi! It’s my first time ever and this is one of the rare ones.” He showed you the screen, his tiny character presenting the fish proudly.

The way Seonghwa’s eyes glimmered with joy at his catch made your heart turn to mush. He may be a grown man in his mid-20s that can tear up the stage and put on a show-stopping performance, but at the end of the day he’s a gentle, kindhearted individual that finds happiness in things like playing Animal Crossing and assembling Star Wars Lego sets.

“Wow.” You marveled. “And this one’s rare you said?”

“Mhm.” He nodded excitedly. “Its worth a lot too so I think I’m gonna sell it. I need a few hundred more bells to buy this lamp I’ve been looking at for my house.”

“Can I see it?”

Seonghwa’s face lit up at your request. “Yes. Hang on just a second.”

You continued to run your fingers through his hair while he fiddled with the controls, going to the shop so he could show you the lamp he wanted so badly.

“Here it is. It’s chrome silver.”

You chuckled softly, finding his love for glossy chrome silver endearing.

“That’s right up your alley.”

“That’s why I have to have it.”

You continued playing with his long hair and watching him play Animal Crossing until his actions became slower and more sluggish. Unbeknownst to you, Seonghwa had been fighting sleep, the drowsiness brought on by your gentle ministrations. He could no longer force his eyes to stay open and exited out of his game, turning the Switch off, setting it aside on his nightstand before rolling onto his back and resting his head in your lap.

“Had enough Animal Crossing for the night?” You inquired, combing his bangs away from his face so you could look at his features.

He hummed in response. “You made me sleepy.”

“Oops.”

His eyes closed briefly, his dark lashes resting delicately on his cheeks. The pads of your fingers traced the side of his face making him crack a small smile, his eyes opening to look up at you.

“Sorry.” You apologized quietly. “You’re just so pretty.”

He fought back a shy grin, turning his head to compose himself and calm the butterflies that tickled his stomach. His gaze met yours once again and he was overwhelmed with a sense of adoration.

“Kiss?”

The one word request was simple and one you couldn’t possibly refuse. You started to lean down only for Seonghwa to raise himself up to meet you halfway, your lips meeting somewhere in the middle. Your eyelids slid closed upon contact, a warm feeling seeping into your chest at the sensation of Seonghwa’s plush lips moving against your own, their softness making your head spin. Your hand moved to hold the back of his head, fingers unconsciously sliding into his silky hair to grab a handful of it. He released a soft sigh into your mouth, parting ways and lowering himself back down to your lap. His hand moved up to cup your cheek, his thumb dragging across your bottom lip.

“I love you.”

A gentle smile graced your features. “I love you too, Hwa.”

“Can you play with my hair again?”

“Of course.”

Masterlist ᝰ — enjoyed this imagine? reblogs & comments are very much appreciated!

DO NOT steal, plagiarize, copy, repost, alter, or translate my works in any way

#ateez imagines #seonghwa x reader #park seonghwa #seonghwa #hongjoong #kim hongjoong #yunho #jeong yunho #yeosang #kang yeosang #choi san #mingi #song mingi #wooyoung #jung wooyoung #choi jongho #jongho #ateez drabbles #seonghwa drabble

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themusingsofacurlyhairednerd · 5 months

Text

Under a Star-Flecked Sky

Author's Note: This was supposed to be some Rhysand x Reader fluff, but the depression brain-rot got the better of me and I wrote some angsty, post-UtM Rhys moments instead (don't worry there is some fluff at the end). My baby just needs a hug, and honestly I think SJM did him dirty by brushing his trauma Under the Mountain under the rug.

Warnings: Mentions of Amarantha, Rhys' Post-UtM Trauma

Summary: You're Rhys' mate, having already been with him before the Mountain, and are navigating Rhys' healing journey as best you can.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The bed was cold; the realization jarring you from the deep clutches of sleep. Your bed was never cold, not when your mate was in it. Rhysand ran warm, your own personal heater, usually spending the night curled around you, cocooned inside the safety of his wings, but those great wings and the male attached to them were nowhere to be seen. His side of the bed empty, the sheets rumpled, blanket haphazardly clinging to the side of the mattress like he'd flung it off in a hurry, even though you hadn't heard him get up.

You sat up, shivering in the chill coming through the open windows, the satin curtains billowing in the autumn breeze. It would be too cold to leave them open soon, a fact you knew often put your mate on edge, especially after...

You called for him down the bond you shared with your mate, worried. It had been a couple months since Rhys had returned home to Velaris after Amarantha; the nightmares had been constant the first couple of weeks, at one point they had gotten so bad he'd started spending the night at the Moonstone Palace, claiming he had work to do to avoid you and the rest of the Inner Circle from seeing him like that, but with some help from Madja and some other healers in the city he'd been able to get a handle on it. Usually. Some nights were worse than others. You'd tried to be as supportive as possible, even going down to the Library to read up on ways to help. There were calming teas you'd started making for him before bed, the recipe tucked in one of those old books, but you suspected Rhys drank it just to make you feel like you were helping, the cup still half full on the bedside table. You'd drifted off shortly after handing it to him last night.

When there was no answer down the bond, you crawled out of the bed, dragging the blanket with you. The black silk slip you wore did nothing to stave off the cold, you'd worn the birthday gift from Rhys down to its threads over the years he was gone. He'd offered to buy you a new one--multiple in more colors--but you'd refused. It was your favorite, you'd find some magic to keep it held together if you had to. Still, it was the wrong time of the year for it, and you opted to stay warm under the blanket instead of pausing to change into something else as you left the room in search of your mate, still calling for him down the bond.

He gave no answer, his end silent. As silent as it had been for the last 50 years, that great, formidable wall of adamant shielding him from you.

You bit your lip as you checked each room in the house, all empty, save for the one Cassian was snoring in at the end of the Hall. They'd started taking turns sleeping over, keeping an eye on their brother. Azriel had stayed the night before, Mor the night before that. They stole your wine and played old board games until the early hours of the morning, trying to get Rhys' to laugh, or smile at the least. He didn't do a lot of that these days.

Your heart clenched painfully in your chest. He'd been through so much and half the time he'd just shut down and shut you out, unable to explain what had happened. What she had done to him. Most nights you wondered if there was a way to let you into Hell, just so you could kill her a second time. You'd had a long time to think about what you'd do if you ever had the chance to get your hands on her. Not that it mattered in the end, you'd never been able to get into the Mountain. You'd failed him then and it was starting to feel like you were failing him again now as you all but sprinted through the house.

It took longer than you would like to admit to notice that the balcony doors in the living room were open. Rhys left the windows open, never the doors, even if Velaris was the safest place in Prythian, he'd never leave you vulnerable like that, not unless he was nearby.

Tears pricked your eyes, your lower lip bleeding from how hard you'd been biting down on it as you stepped out into the frigid night air. The lounge chairs and tables along the edge were all empty, no glass of Rhys' favorite whiskey in sight.

Your heart thundered in your ears, thoughts racing. Where the hell was he? Had something happened? Was he in danger?

You were about to start calling his name in desperation before a shifting tile on the roof caught your attention. One of the pieces had been knocked loose--a new occurrence because you'd had to replace them after a drunk Cassian had tried to do a back flip off it last week.

Clutching the blanket around your shoulders with one hand, you used the other to pull a chair over to where the corner of the roof hung over the balcony, and carefully climbed up. The townhouse roof was not as steep as the Palace roof, or even the cabin in Illyria, where you and your mate used to sit and talk about all his plans for his city and his people.

That ache in your chest returned tenfold as you spotted your mate, sitting at the highest point of the roof, knees to his chest, wings wrapped around himself to fight against the cold. His head was tucked against his knees, ebony hair covering his eyes. This was not his spot to stargaze. This was not like all those times you'd sat together, whispering your dreams to the stars, so hopeful and eager for the future. This was not the ambitious and hopeful High Lord who had swept you into the glittering world of the Night Court and mapped out a future among the stars with you all those years ago. You had gone to the cabin in Illyria only once while he was away, and the loss of him, the bond so quite and empty and cold in the place you had formed it had been so devastating you'd almost ripped the place apart one wood plank at a time. At the time you had been so sure you had lost him forever that you'd nearly ripped everything you had built together apart in your grief. You had left all those dreams you shared in those woods and vowed that you would never whisper any prayers to the stars ever again. Not if their heir was gone and their reflection in his violet eyes would never look your way again. You had stopped dreaming in his absence. Nights like this you wondered if he had too. Perhaps the Mountain had taken more from both of you then you dared to admit, even to each other. What good were dreams if the stars no longer listened, if they would no longer answer you?

It was an easy climb to him compared to all the other roofs you had climbed to sit with him in the past, even with the blanket still clutched around your shoulders.

Rhys didn't look up. You weren't even sure he'd heard you. Still, you lowered yourself to sit next to him, the worry swirling in the pit of your stomach only beginning to settle as you took in the jasmine and citrus scent of him. This was the part where you said something witty, threw the blanket around him and chastised him for leaving you alone, but maybe those were games for the people you were before. The last time he hadn't heard you coming, too caught up in his own head to hear you, he'd flinched so hard his powers had knocked a bookshelf over, panic flooding the bond. He accidentally showed you a flash of red hair and pointed nails, scratching at his back before he'd ripped the memory away and locked himself in the bathroom. You'd been trying to find ways to avoid doing it ever again.

It was a long, tense few minutes before Rhys lifted his head off his knees just enough to look at you. "Did I wake you?" His voice was raw, like he'd been screaming.

You wanted to touch him, to hold him in your arms and stroke his hair and make it all better, as his touch had always done for you, but everything was so different. Sometimes you were sure he let you hold his hands because he knew you wanted to, not because he wanted to.

It had been a long couple months, you'd been weighing and measuring every word, trying not to startle him, trying not to make him feel any guilt or shame. He had saved you, and your family, had given everything he'd had to ensure that she didn't taint any bit of your home, you owed him a solid front, a shoulder to lean on. You had not spoken of how scared you had been, how cold and empty and wretched you had felt for every moment of the last fifty years. You'd crafted a nice mask for the court to see, holding steady in his absence, not taking it off, even after his return in hopes that it would ease his burden. But the words came tumbling out of you, the tidal wave of emotions bubbling up and bursting out in a rush, "You scared me."

He sat up a little straighter, pain flashing across his star flecked eyes.

"The bond was quite," tears pricked your eyes. "Cold. You wouldn't answer me. You'd shut me out." It was that last bit more than anything. You could handle the nightmares. You could handle this new version of your mate, because truth be told there had been times you weren't sure he was ever coming back, whatever shape he was in was irrelevant in the long run as long as he was alive. All the newness, the unease and uncertainty, the new quite version of him was easy to handle. But the quiet, knowing he'd shut you out again...

"I know that you need time, and space, and I'm trying to give that to you, Rhys, but..."

He unfurled his wings enough to wrap one around you, an arm sliding around your waist to pull you against his side. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry," he whispered against your temple, planting gentle, feather light kisses against your skin as you buried your face in he crook of his neck.

He was here. He was safe. This was real. All things you often had to remind yourself of.

"Please don't shut me out like that," you whispered, the tears falling freely down your cheeks. "Not again. I can bear a lot, Rhys, but not any more of that."

His wings came back around to cover both of you as he stroked a hand through your hair. Still, aside from a few more whispered apologies, he didn't speak, didn't attempt to explain himself. You tried to tell yourself it was fine, he didn't have to explain, he'd earned the right to keep whatever he needed to to himself, if he wanted to tell you he would. But he still had not lowered his shields, did not project anything down the bond. A part of you wanted to scream, grab onto that tether that linked your souls together and shake it like you could somehow force life back into it. Maybe things would be better if you could. Maybe they'd be worse. You tried to tell yourself this was enough.

"There are things," he said finally, his voice pained like he was having trouble putting it together, no sign of that silver tongue of his. "Things I can't... can't talk about."

You laid your hand over his heart, feeling the uneven beat. It was rare for Rhys to be so obviously anxious.

"Things I won't talk about."

"It's not healthy-"

"No," he growled, tightening his grip on your waist to keep you from pulling back to look him in the eyes. By the uneasiness of his breathing you thought he might be crying himself. "You do not need to know. You will hear enough of my sins from everyone else."

Sins, as if he had done any of it willingly, as if he'd had any choice in it.

"You didn't have a choice," you began.

"It doesn't matter," Rhys countered. "That is not the story they will tell."

He would be the villain, the little lackey that did her dirty work, the monster that ripped people's minds apart for his evil queen. You'd heard the story in the High Lord's meetings over and over again--and worse, especially from Beron and Tamlin. "I don't believe anyone else's stories. I don't care what they think you've done, or why you'd done it. I don't care, Rhys, because it's not true."

He buried his head in the top of you hair, a shuttering breath ripping out his chest.

You shot as much understanding and love down the bond as you could, hoping some of it would eventually break through that wall between you. "I love you, I'll always love you, Rhys, nothing will change that."

His wings tightened around you, soft moonlight shining through the soft membrane, highlighting centuries worth of nicks and battle scars. You longed to run your fingers over them, familiarize yourself once again with the patterns and feelings you had forgotten in the last fifty years.

"But how are we supposed to move forward if we don't talk to each other?" You whispered. "I miss you. I miss talking to you. You're my best friend, my mate, we promised to always be honest and open with each other."

You twisted to be able to look at him, pulling away just enough to catch the glimmer of tears in his eyes. You reached out gently to wipe one off his cheek and he shuttered at the contact.

"It doesn't have to be tonight. Or tomorrow. Or next week. I know that you need time, and I am not asking you to give me details you don't want to, but there's gotta be some way for us to talk to each other again, isn't there?"

He tilted his head to kiss your fingertips. "I'm sorry, I know I've hurt you," he murmured against your fingertips, his lips soft and warm against your chilled skin. "I'm trying." He moved his lips to your palm, placing featherlight kisses on the way down, his offering of another apology, as if to tell you he was sorry you had to be there to wipe away any tears. He'd been like that before, but not this bad.

"I know," you said, "but in the mean time, can I at least have a thought for a thought?"

He hummed against your palm. "You first."

"I'm thinking we really should have put in more comfortable roof tiles," you said, twisting against the tile that was biting into the underside of your thighs.

He shifted and pulled you to sit in his lap with a huff of what was almost a laugh. The shift in conversation was good, kept you both from spiraling further into all the uncertainty the future still held. If you couldn't talk about the past, at least there were things in the present to talk about.

"And I'm thinking," you added as you settled against his strong chest, his heartbeat a bit more steady against you now. "That you make a very comfortable seat."

"That's two."

"First one was free," you say, resting your head against his shoulder.

He was quiet for a long moment, just the two of you wrapped in each other under the stars.

"I'm thinking..." his arms wrapped around your waist, his hands finding yours so you could intertwine them. "That I clearly need to get you some new socks, your feet are freezing!"

He was clad in nothing but his underwear, you only now realized, and you had instinctively wrapped your legs around his, seeking any kind of warmth you could find. There wasn't a full sleep set between the two of you.

You couldn't help but laugh, even if this wasn't how you'd hoped the conversation would go, at least it was a conversation. "You know I hate sleeping with socks on, that's not fair."

"Slippers than," he conceded.

You intentionally brushed your cold feet up the side of his leg. "Fuzzy ones. And only if they're bright pink."

"Ridiculous," he huffed, "but if you insist."

"I want them to look like cats too."

"Pink cats?"

"Pink cats."

"Pink cats it is then."

You grinned at that. "We can go to the Rainbow tomorrow for them?"

"First thing in the morning," he promised as he settled his chin on your shoulder.

"We should go for breakfast. There's a new bakery on the Sidra. Well, new as in neither of us have been there, it's technically been open for awhile."

"You didn't go?"

You two had met in a bakery in Illyria, had fought over the last chocolate croissant until the shop owner had kicked both you out for scarring the other customers, it had become something of a weekly tradition to find which shop in Velaris had the best ones since. "I was waiting for you."

The arms around your middle squeezed a little tighter.

"I have a list of things for us to do, actually. A lot changed and I thought if, maybe I kept making a list it gave the Mother a reason to bring you back to me." It felt stupid, now that you'd said it aloud that you had hoped depriving yourself of a chocolate croissant would somehow force the Mother to bring your mate home, but you had been desperate, you weren't always thinking clearly.

Rhys nuzzled into the side of your neck. "Thank you, for waiting." You knew him well enough to know he wasn't talking about the bakery or the croissants.

"I would have waited a thousand years for you," you whispered.

"That's a long time without chocolate croissants," he teased.

"They're worth the wait," you replied, hoping he knew you well enough to know you weren't talking about croissants either.

He merely hummed understandingly as he settled against your shoulder, his breathing evening out against your back. You relished in the rise and fall of his chest, of his warm breath against your throat. He was alive, he was here, he'd made it home.

"What else is on this list of yours?"

"There's a new dinner cruise around the Sidra, an art exhibit in the Rainbow, three new plays," you counted them off on your fingers, trying to remember all of them now. Sleep was beginning to beckon again, your eyes heavy, speech slowing. "The Night Orchestra is coming back into town, you missed them twice. There's a new ice cream shop to try..." there was something else, but your mind was growing hazy. A yawn escaped you.

Rhys tried to stand, but you grabbed frantically at his wrists. "I'm ok. Wanna stay here with you."

He settled back against the roof, laying back now with you tucked into his side. The blanket had gotten twisted between the two of you, doing little to keep out the bite of the roof tiles. You didn't care.

"Oh! There's a new place that sells some lacy things I think you'd like," you mumbled as you pressed your face into the crook of his neck and breathed in deep.

"For you or me?" He teased.

"For you to rip off of me," you said.

He kissed your temple, "We'll definitely have to stop there then."

You were trying your hardest to keep your eyes open, really you were, but they were growing heavier and heavier, the stars over head blurring in your vision. Maybe you had been wrong to stop wishing on them, despite all your pain, your mate had still returned to you, that dream had still been answered.

"We're gonna be ok, you know," You murmured into his neck.

"You think so?" He whispered.

"I'll wish it onto every star I see until it's answered," you vowed.

Rhys gripped you a little tighter, you gripped him back, eyes drifting shut fully now.

"Maybe I'll start making wishes again too," he said in your ear. You hoped, as you drifted off, that the stars heard him and would answer this wish too.

#rhysand x reader #rhysand x reader fluff #rhysand acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #rhysand fic #fanfiction #writing #a little hurt/comfort for my other depressed bitches

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david-talks-sw · 7 months

Text

When 'Star Wars' dilutes the impact of a "Kurosawa samurai standoff"...

It's no secret that one of the major inspirations for Star Wars was Akira Kurosawa movies. The Hidden Fortress influenced the basic structure of the first film, was a basis for Lucas' character archetypes and his use of narrative POVs.

But, really, all of Kurosawa's films were an influence on the making of Star Wars. Including the duels seen in his and other samurai films from the 60s.

Dunno if you've seen a kendo fight, but they're pretty similar.

The duelists size each other up, and there's a lot of mind games going on before the strike actually happens.

If you hold your sword this way, the other guy adjusts his stance.

You move your foot that way, the adversary responds accordingly.

Cinematically, this process allows you to play with a whole treasure trove of elements to build up the drama and suspense. We see this slow-yet-tense approach to dueling reflected all over the Original Trilogy. And we've seen it again in recent Disney-released content.

The perfect and first real example of this in Star Wars is the fight between Ben Kenobi and Maul, in Rebels.

The tension increases more...

... and more until the two fighters move, the music swells...

... and then it reaches its climax.

Beautifully executed.

Dave Filoni's done his homework, it shows, and while it's an awesome homage, narratively it also holds weight. There's a reason why this fight is so quick:

This time, Obi-Wan isn't fighting to avenge the death of his master, he's not fighting to save his own life... he's fighting to protect Luke's. And that means there's no time to fuck about. He'll end the conflict swiftly and decisively, he won't let it come to a prolonged acrobatic fight. So he lures Maul in by making him think he's taking Qui-Gon's form, and strikes true when Maul, increasingly consumed by his own rage to the point of blindness, falls for it.

Again: a wonderful fight and an excellent homage.

Then we get to Luke's stand-off with Kylo on Crait, in The Last Jedi.

An interesting take on the trope, also with meaningful narrative impact. As Rian Johnson writes in the TLJ screenplay:

"This is not like a saber fight. This like an old-fashioned samurai duel."

Here too, the tension gets built up...

... and every time we're close to getting that climax, Luke dodges.

It leaves a feeling of dissatisfaction, which is exactly what Kylo is feeling as he boils with rage.

Suddenly, we do get the climax...

... and a twist. Luke was never actually there. Boom. Those inserts during the build-up phase? If you look at them again they're clues (Luke doesn't leave a mark on the ground, salt doesn't land on his clothes, etc). Luke wasn't engaging because he wasn't actually there, he was buying time for the Resistance to escape.

Okay. Cool.

Next time we see a "Kurosawa" duel... it's here, in The Mandalorian.

Again, a lot of posing, slow movements and patience, as is expected from the trope.

But we know nothing about the opponent Ahsoka is fighting other than her name is Morgan... so no emotional impact, there.

At some point, Ahsoka loses a lightsaber. The apprentice to the Chosen One is struggling against some rando.

We find out later on that Morgan is a Nightsister from Dathomir, and that's cool... but we already know how Jedi-trained folks fare against the Dathomiri.

If you ask me, it feels like manufactured stakes. But that's beside the point. In fact, y'know what? It's fine.

Though the impact of this duel isn't as great as its predecessors, the whole episode is filled with visual homages to Kurosawa's work.

It makes sense that the duel would be too. Also it's the first time we're seeing Ahsoka in live action, in a lightsaber duel, the hype is real. Let's cut 'em some slack.

So we come to the series Ahsoka... where almost every duel in the the show has the Kurosawa posturing and tip-toeing and... I dunno. I was bored?

Like, the primary purpose of this approach to duels is that it's meant to be suspenseful and intense... and now it's not.

Because we know Ahsoka is gonna beat the crap outta these droids...

... so why even bother faking some semblance of "what's her next move gonna be?" suspense? There's a hole right behind her, gee, I truly wonder.

Oh, you think putting her against an Inquisitor's gonna make us fear for her life, wonder if she's gonna get outta this situation unscathed?

She was wiping the floor with two of them at the same time, a decade prior. At 17, she was killing Inquisitors while disarmed.

Do you really expect your audience to fear for her life in a fight against Marrok?

So we get to the fight with Baylan, and the posturing and studying opponent's next move would be welcome here (two Order 66 survivors, knew Anakin, both well-trained former Jedi)...

... if we hadn't literally seen that same dynamic with Marrok who, again, we knew was gonna die.

No tension was built in either moment, the only thing it achieved was me pressing >> on my keyboard.

It's not captivating anymore, it's just slow and un-dynamic.

Bottom line:

Tributes to Kurosawa are nice. They're part of what makes Star Wars what it is. But c'mon, we get it already.

Lightsaber duelists don't need to tiptoe around each other and change poses at every fight. Because when the actually meaningful duels come up (like the one with Baylan), the impact will be lessened.

The "Kurosawa samurai duel" is artistic and interesting, but it should be used sparingly in order to maintain its charm and not get old and trope-y. AKA too much of a good thing becomes a bad thing.

#ahsoka series #ahsoka tano #baylan skoll #marrok #ahsoka #star wars #meta #sw negativity #long post

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etoiile · 7 months

Text

WHAT MAYBE COULD HAVE BEEN

starring nagi seishiro!

synopsis: nagi has a nice life. its peaceful and he needn't work too hard, just like he likes it. sometimes, though, every once in a while, he sits around with his regrets thinking about what maybe could have been.

notes: i tried to write angst but it didnt rly work lolol

nagi is, for the most part, pretty content with his life.

its kind of a no-think-just-do kind of thing, which he quite enjoys. he goes to his 9-5 office job, comes back, tends to choki, eats dinner, plays games for a few hours, and goes to bed. then, the cycle repeats. its basic, sure, but there's nothing wrong with that.

except that there's, well, everything wrong with that.

now, don't get him wrong. he's grateful for his relatively leisurely life and enjoys the slow pace. he's a lazy guy, after all. a life full of action and emotion just wouldnt be very him.

but still, every so often, nagi will find himself wondering, daydreaming, thinking, about what maybe could have been.

about what maybe could have been if he decided to go pro with isagi and reo and chigiri and them. maybe then, he could be rich and famous. his mind could be surpassing limits and soaring to new heights. he could be a renowned soccer player like that.. noel no.. something.. guy? the really good one on tv that chigiri was talking about. he could be an inspiration to millions!

nah, nagi doesnt need wealth nor fame. hes fine with the humble lifestyle he leads. plus, part of the reason he enjoys said lifestyle is because he doesnt need to do much thinking. his brain can just relax and be lazy. in some ways, its better this way. thinking is such a hassle!

but then, he thinks about what maybe could have been if he'd tried harder in school. he could be working a high-paying job and could be living in a house. choki could have a family and he'd be able to spend more freely. think of all the games he could buy that he cant afford on his corporate salary.

again, nah. he still did pretty well in school without much effort. a corporate job may not be fancy, but its good work. plus, what would he even be doing with a house? his apartment has all the space he needs, and choki's thriving on his own! he doesnt need cactus friends. plus, having to care for a house and more cactuses would be such a hassle. not to mention the work you have to put in for a higher-paying job.

but sometimes, he thinks about what maybe could have been if he kept in touch with his friends from blue lock. he could still have late-night talks with chigiri, and spend quality time at the park with isagi. then, he could actually hangout with people. reo's away pretty often, so they dont hang much.

once more, nah! nagi's plenty happy with choki, reo, and the coworkers that hes become friendly with. he's an introvert, after all. too many friends would become too exhausting, and it would zap the peacefulness out of his peaceful life. even being with reo is a hassle sometimes.

all of it is a hassle. he's fine with the way everything turned out, really.

but afterwards, once he's lying in his bed, trying to submit to slumber, he finds himself really, really thinking about what maybe could have been.

about what maybe could have been if he hadn't decided that you, too, were a hassle.

about what maybe, just maybe, could have been if he picked up your phone calls every time, even when he was gaming. about what maybe could have been if he took time out of his day for you and only you. about what maybe could have been if he said 'i love you' more, and comforted and reassured you. about what maybe could have been if he valued you. treasured you. treated you right.

about what maybe could've been if he'd done all of it right. then maybe, just maybe, he could be playing the match of his life right now, with you cheering him on in the sidelines, crying out his name, waiting to go home to a place you deserve to be with a whole choki family.

about what maybe could've been if he just didnt declare it all to be a hassle, and maybe he could've touched the stars.

but for now, nagi sleeps. he has to go to his 9-5 tomorrow, after all.

#ami writes 💌#i do not know how to write angst #i tried to angst but the angst didnt angst #i cannot #nagi x reader #nagi angst #nagi hcs #nagi drabble #nagi imagines #nagi headcanons #nagi x you #blue lock drabbles #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #blue lock imagines #blue lock #blue lock angst #bllk angst

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amerricanartwork · 7 days

Note

Hi! I just wondered if you've played Hollow Knight based off how much you like Rain World. I'd be interested in any thoughts you had on it. :)

Thanks for the ask! No, I have not yet played Hollow Knight, BUT my interest in the game has been piqued! However I still have to see if the gameplay itself seems up my alley, or get invested enough in the characters that I want to discover more than I've already found out (and I have spoiled quite a lot for myself) before I actually decide to buy the game.

Regardless, from what I do know it does seem like an interesting story, albeit one far more tragic than Rain World's in my opinion. The characters I've seen are also pretty cool, both in design and personality. In fact, it was some ship fanart I found a few weeks ago that got me interested in diving deeper into the game once I realized it was where the featured characters were from, especially since one of the characters I had remembered hearing about before.

Here's a little sketch of some characters I was thinking about and whom I've been meaning to draw for a bit! Hornet because she's very Shaped™, Quirrel because from what I've seen he's quite wholesome, and Tiso because he was the first character I heard about and I think he's kinda silly!

Also, some more comparing/contrasting thoughts about the game below:

Firstly, I like how the premise of Kollow Knight involves anthropomorphic insects! It's something I never realized until recently despite being aware of HK for at least a few years, but I usually tend to take interest in stories starring non-humanoid creatures, so it's a plus! I also enjoy the more gothic/Victorian-looking magical high fantasy aesthetic, though it's pretty different from Rain World, which I'd consider far more sci-fi and specbio-esque in its aesthetic.

Now to get into themes, so far Hollow Knight seems to share Rain World's theme of lost/dead civilizations, which is also a very interesting premise to me! However, HK seems to have a greater focus on interacting with the people of its dying civilization and as such you get far more definitive knowledge about what happened to cause it to collapse. The player character seems to take on more of a classic epic hero role, because from what I've heard about the lore and endings, they end up directly influencing the fate of Hallownest, even potentially destroying or defeating the force that caused its ruin. The visuals have this very dark, cool tint overall to sell that gloomy, mournful vibe, and the structures, while presumably old, are still mostly smooth, ornate, and not super deteriorated, with these castle or manor-like appearances more similar to real-life buildings or things in other high fantasy works. Then, the orchestral music I've heard alongside all of these elements really creates this impression in me that it's aesthetic and overall concept is more akin to a high fantasy epic tale, albeit a rather tragic one.

Meanwhile, Rain World seem to have the player take more of an anthropologist role, observing and trying to piece together the story of vast remnants of its dead civilization, which seem alien and impossibly complex because so much of the history they're from has been lost to time. One of the core themes is being very small compared to these long abandoned structures, to really sell the idea that this history is so much older and more intricate than you'll ever know. The colors of Rain World are often warmer, which can be associated with old things, and the structures are far more weathered and broken down, with the only living survivors of the people who made them being the iterators, whom we only get to hear directly from two of. Combined with the focus on simulating an ecosystem, the more directly religious ideas within, the themes of natural cycles and an entire civilization evolving, changing, and ultimately disappearing over deep time, and the overall alien, sci-fi industrial designs of the architexture and strange creature designs that look like things out of "Of Rust and Humus" or some other alien speculative biology worldbuilding project make RW fit well in with that genre of fiction in my opinion.

Sorry if I seem like I kinda took a sudden shift there, but I wanted to talk about this contrast in artistic aesthetics and story genres for a moment because the "lasting impression" an art piece creates something I've recently concluded is pretty important overall in works of art, at least for mine!

But anyway, I hope these thoughts were satisfying for now! Thanks again for the ask!

#ask #inbox #art #artwork #drawing #sketch #digital #digital art #fanart #hollow knight #quirrel #hk quirrel #hornet #hk hornet #tiso #hk tiso #quetzalli draws #quetzalli answers

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zephyrstargame · 4 months

Text

well here's something I can do!

this is a little spin on an idea i've been seeing around that i think is wonderful... I personally, am not in the best financial place to be donating, but i can use my platform as a game developer to help out and do something cool at the same time :3

In exchange for donating esims to gaza, I'm gonna populate the world of Zephyr Star with your characters as NPCs! currently: OPEN!!

Here's the deal-- scurry on over to gazaesims.com to figure out how to buy and donate an esim to the people who need em-- any plan works for me, as long as you're gettin something out there!

then slip into my DMs (or anywhere else you can contact me directly) and show me a screenshot of the email, preferably with timestamps for proof that it's from after this post was posted... or really, any proof that you did do the thing-- also show me:

a reference image for what character you want me put in the game

what this character should say as an NPC (just a few lines at most) (optional; if you'd like i can just write some general dialogue instead)

how you would like to be credited in the in-game credits (ie what name i should put)

below the cut are some submission guidelines and extra notes, please also read that if you're interested :>

here are some general submission guidelines:

nothing too lewd, please!

or racist

or otherwise offensive

fandom ocs MIGHT be fine if they're Legally Distinct enough from the source material, but try not to get me sued here

In general, this game's world has No Humans, but that's not a strict requirement-- just a general suggestion

and keep in mind that characters with super intricate details might have to be simplified in order to work as pixel art

otherwise, anything works! furries, robots, sentient objects, your cat, whatever

and here's some notes, so you know what to expect:

i'll take anywhere between a few hours to a few days to finish, depends on how i'm feeling... either way, i'll tag you in a new post when i'm done!

the character will be done in small pixel art, with maybe some additional effects if i feel it works for the design

i will adjust the sprite size depending on the character-- an average sized character is drawn on a 32x32 canvas but if it's like a giant or really tall or something, i'd make it bigger so that the scale is accurate

everyone also gets a zoomed in headshot for the dialogue portrait

no secret bosses, shopkeepers, or other special story purpose for now, sorry! these are just some guys that stand around and say 1 or 2 lines as you go about your adventure

im putting the characters in various places at random, but if you want your guy to be in a certain type of location in-game let me know

this game is STILL in relatively early development-- but i do promise that each and every submission will be in there by the end! it might take yeaaaars for the full game to finally be out, but i'll be posting screenshots as I put em in the game so you know im not slacking around :>

and alongside the screenshot, i'll also post the sprites on their own if you'd like to save them for yourself

legal stuff uhhhhh im not good at legal stuff-- by participating, you are giving me permission to use your submitted character in the final game-- credit will be given in-game where you would expect to see it (the credits) and i will not claim ownership of any of your guys

(cartoon mafia boss voice) if at any point you want your character scrubbed out of the game, or you want anything changed, let me know in my DMs or anywhere else you can contact me and *click* *sinister laugh* we'll make it happen

no money goes to me ever, im not even gonna be the middlesnake between you and the esims-- i just think its less of a hassle to work this way -w-

did i get everything? i think that's everything... if i forgot something important sorry i'm a scatterbrain failgirl who has never done anything like this before im trying my best okay

may the rift be filled with your cool little guys! but more importantly, let's keep gaza connected! free palestine! 🍉

#free palestine #esims for gaza #game development #indiedev

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piosplayhouse · 2 months

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Niche fandom happenings to take your mind after whatever stuffs happening in your fandom:

So as you can probably deduce, the model horse collecting hobby is made up mostly of older people. The hobby has been well established since the dawn of the Internet and I've talked a few times about how it's difficult to find some older resources about it/its history because of how every other link you click on which used to lead to a hobbyist artist's angelfire blog now is just a dead link or worse, bought out by some ad company sitting on the URL. Up until recently, a huge portion of hobby talk still relied on now-defunct Yahoo groups; now most have moved to either forums like Model Horse Blab or private Facebook groups. Individually most of these are pretty decentralized, but since model collecting by nature is a hobby that requires a significant amount of financial interaction (buying, trading, selling, commissioning, etc.), there has to be some kind of centralized marketplace for people to pitch their goods to as many corners of the hobby as possible.

Enter Model Horse Sales Pages (MH$P), a, well, site where people can post sales pages for model horses and accessories. It's an old fashioned sales pages site from the 2000s with a somewhat shitty layout but unparalleled detailed search functions-- to order things from a seller, you'd have to personally email them to negotiate for their listing. Though this seems somewhat inconvenient to our modern senses used to one click payments and speedy delivery, MH$P is undoubtedly a pillar of the model horse community.

... So that's why people are scrambling as it's allegedly been hacked and taken down for the foreseeable future. Worrying about personal information aside, now fans are left to wonder: what's the alternative? Well, the first one is of course eBay, which many hobbyists already use. However, eBay is obviously less catered to model horse hobbyists and is therefore a bit harder to search if you're deep in the hobby and can't be assed to look through 4000 "plastic horse" titled listings to find the 2008 SR glossy xX Devilish Girlfriend++ Thoroughbred you want. MH$P occupied a specific niche for long time fans looking for grails.

So what are our alternatives for people in the hobby looking to buy from others in the hobby? Well, there's a few decentralized official dealers like Chelsea's Model Horses or Triple Mountain who you can consign older models to, but going through a middleman takes time and you have much less freedom in your personal listings. Alternatively, you could go grassroots and post listings in Facebook groups and on forums, but those have reaches limited to the members of those specific, often small, groups, and it can be hard to move stock that way. So now people are looking for a backup marketplace platform, both for the current situation and longtime health of the hobby. But imagine my surprise when I went on Model Horse Blab and saw people suggesting an alternative site kickstarted by

STAR STABLE ONLINE YOUTUBER DENIS/DENISE WISESTORM. Denis has been a controversial figure in the SSO fandom (though there's pretty much no uncontroversial ssotubers especially on ssoblr because clickbaiting and weird reactionary takes are like the bread and butter of that side of the fandom) who's been called out for having some alt-right homophobic views in the past, as well as for his abject and unproductive negativity towards improvements made on the game. He's a lps customizer and pretty prolific breyer collector, though, so his drive to create a model trading and selling platform makes sense at least. But still! Why him!!!!!!

#breyer #ssoblr

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sapphire-dreamsky · 6 months

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Preview

may the odds be ever in your favour

inspiration: heavily inspired by The Hunger Games starring: ryomen sukuna | female reader pairing: sukuna x reader warnings: violence | death of minor characters setting: alternate universe | hunger games universe

The words were whispered underneath the willow tree on a grey afternoon where the skies seemed to mourn for their fates. It was their tree. He was fourteen when he took out a hunting knife from his belt and started engraving their initials on that willow tree. They were teenagers who didn’t know any better back then. Teenagers who blindly prayed “may the odds be ever in your favour” before his first reaping day. His red eyes gleamed even when the grey clouds cocooned the sun rays. They sparkled like rubies. (Name) was always mesmerised by their brightness. They shone with unadulterated hope and happiness. A happiness that she would fight to protect no matter the costs. This world was cruel. It kept on taking and reaping; never giving anything in return for its cruelty. They both knew that this was Sukuna’s first reaping. This was the first time his name was written on a piece of white paper and thrown into a fish bowl at the mercy of fate’s hands. His name was amongst one of the 100 other boys. What were the chances that the paper would belong to him?

Under the willow tree, on the very first day of his reaping, (name)’s arms had a secure grip on the older boy’s torso. She didn’t want to let him go. Sukuna had a confident grin on his face despite the anxiety in those ruby eyes of his. But he hid it well. All for her sake.

“Why the long face, brat? My name is amongst one of the other 100 or so other brats. Once the reaping is over, we will go and buy this sweet bun that you like so much. Come on.”

And yet, (name) didn’t budge. She had a bad feeling deep in the pit of her stomach. She wanted to throw up the breakfast prepared for them by Sukuna’s mother.

“Brat.”

His eyes softened. Despite being only two years older, at fourteen he towered over the majority of the boys in his year. He could only see the crown of (name)’s head. The boy let out a sigh. He wondered whose name was in the fish bowl. His or hers.

“(Name).”

The girl refused to look up. She knew she was appearing weak right now. Weak and clingy. The very emotions that would get her killed in this world. He took her face in both his hands. As he expected, her eyes were red and puffy. He leaned down to put his forehead against her. A gesture he started when he found her crying around the corner of the Hub after her parents’ funeral. The gesture became a symbol of comfort to the young girl. A sign that Sukuna would always be there for her. That nothing in this world could separate them. That he would always be there for her and protect her. It’s us against the world.

“I’m not leaving you.”

Sukuna’s red orbs starred in hers before drifting down to (name)’s lips. They were red and bloody from worry. The young boy frowned. Without much ado, he leaned and landed a kiss on her lips. It was quick. (Name) barely felt anything. It felt more like something pressed on her lips quickly before retreating. When she looked up at the boy quizzically, it dawned on the girl that this was Sukuna’s first kiss as much as it was hers. His cheeks were as red as his eyes. He refused to look at her. When he felt her stare on him, he became embarrassed. He quickly snaked his arms around her form and forced her head back on his chest to spare him the embarrassment of not knowing how to properly kiss.

The boy was so bashful that (name) couldn’t stop the bubbling laughter escaping her. She could feel Sukuna grumbling under his breath. And yet, there was a smile on his face when he realised that he lifted her mood.

“Brat. Let’s get some buns when this is all finished."

#ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader #jjk sukuna x reader #jjk x reader

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evilwrongdoer · 1 year

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bella ramsey x f!reader, they invite the reader onto the tlou set and introduce them to pedro

word count: 1,6k

I kinda went my own way with this one, hope you like it!

You were nearly buzzing with excitement.

The car was dark, the sun had yet to rise and the tinted windows just made it seem more like nighttime.

You understood though, riding in a car with a soon-to-be celebrity had its pros and cons.

Bella was staring out their window, fiddling with their rings as you stared in their direction, trying not to be too obvious.

She had invited you onto the set of a new upcoming series that she was playing in, "The last of us", a higly anticipated video game adaptation that was likely to give Bella a fair amount of fame.

You wondered if he was nervous. If the idea of gaining so many fans overnight scared them, or maybe excited them, like their mere presence did to you.

The two of you had known each other for a little over a year now, meeting at a small cast party one of your friends invited you to.

You had gotten lost, or rather, your friend had left you. You sipped reluctantly on your long island ice tea, which you regretted buying since your friend had disappeared and "drunk in a room full of strangers" wasn't exactly your idea of a fun night.

You sat at a high table in the corner of the club, fiddling with your straw and wishing you had just stayed home, when suddenly, a beautiful person sat next to you, and all of a sudden you were happy your friend had left you.

The two of you chatted for the rest of the party, and in talking to them you felt as if the whole world disappeared around you. He was absolutely mesmerising and he looked at you in a way no one ever had before. Despite your intense feelings towards them, you were too intoxicated to truly know if they felt the same, and too scared to do anything about it if they did, so the two of you became friends. No, more than that, best friends, and even though you wanted more than that, you decided a little Bella was better than no Bella.

After that, you were inseparable, hanging out at every chance you had, causing quite a few of Bella's friends to ship you.

A few weeks ago, Bella invited you to the set of the last of us. You were quite happy but never really thought it would happen as you didn't want to get in the way of him while he was at work.

Now, here you were, freezing your ass off somewhere on the outskirts of Alberta, Canada.

They were set to film parts of episode three today, and you really hoped you'd get to see Bella act in some scenes.

You watched as they set up cameras, lights, and most importantly, the snack table.

You and Bella hadn't really talked that morning, apart from the odd weather comment and loose small talk. You figured it was because of the cold, or the fact that she wasn't really a morning person, but some part of you knew that wasn't really true.

The two of you got to talking more as they got into costume, and you even got to meet one of his co-stars.

"Okay, would you rather live as a whale for a year or.... live as a horse for 6 months?" You questioned, looking at Bella with wide eyes as a make-up artist painted blood and dirt onto her face.

You sat backwards in a crappy plastic foldout chair, now in a trailer as Bella got ready for filming.

"As a horse, duh, it's half the time," He replied, looking straight forward into the mirror as to not disturb the artist's work.

"Yeah but like, horses are like super weak, if you break your leg or something they'll shoot you straight in the head," You gestured as the make-up artist looked at you confused.

"Ah! Don't say that, we're literally supposed to be on horses in a few weeks!" They grimaced, fearing for the horses.

"I never took you for a horse lover," you shrugged, folding your arms under your neck and watching as Bella's make-up came to life on her face, "Same though, I have thalassophobia,"

You stared directly at Bella now, knowing that you could say you were "looking at the make-up" or "just thinking about stuff" if they asked you about it later.

You watched as she messed with her cuticles or bit her cheek, and again took to wondering what was going through her head.

After she finished getting ready, the two of you walked quietly onto set, where you just so happened to stumble upon one of Bella's co-stars.

Pedro Pascal.

You wanted to scream. To just drop dead right then and there. But that would be all too embarrassing. You had been a fan of him since you saw your first movie, and you even had a crush on him when you were younger.

He wasn't as intimidating as you thought he'd be, although that's probably because he looks 6'3 but he's really 5'11.

Bella smiled warmly at him, differently from how she smiled at you. You wondered whether that was a good thing or not.

"Pedro! This is my... friend that i told you about!" Bella spoke, happiness filling their voice, and you threw a kind smile on your face, pretending as if you didn't hear them pause.

"Hi! y/n, right? I've heard so much about you!" Pedro gleamed, leaning in for a hug.

You hugged him tightly, something about him making you feel safe and at home. You finally understood why he played so many father figure roles.

You briefly introduced yourself to him and chatted a bit before letting the both of them leave to filming.

It took quite a few hours, with Bella getting a total of three breaks in which the two of you barely spoke, tension completely filling any room you were in together.

You planned to confront him about his cold behavior, at first feeling angry, and then later sad. You once again pondered the nature of the way they had been acting. Did she all of a sudden lose interest in you? Maybe they weren't feeling well? No, that couldn't be it, if they were feeling well enough to act, she was feeling well enough to not ignore you. Maybe something was up with him?

You let your thoughts drive you as you stared in one spot for what felt like eternity.

In the background of your thoughts you could faintly hear someone talking, something you chose to ignore, thinking it was just some far-away conversation.

"Hello? y/n? I asked you if you were ready to leave?" Someone spoke, trying to break you out of your haze.

A sharp snap in front of your face made you remember where you were again, and you now looked around as the staff was cleaning up things that you could've swore they'd just set up.

"Huh?" You looked up at Bella, blinking to make sure it was really them.

"There you are, what happened? I kept asking you if you were ready to leave and you just continued staring at the ground," Bella stared at you, their eyebrows furrowed in an emotion you couldn't place.

"Uh, yeah, sorry about that. Let's go." You quickly muttered, grabbing your bag and throwing away the now-stale cookie that you'd been holding for over 20 minutes.

"Well, lead the way?" You looked at Bella, waiting for her to start walking.

They stared at you and shook their head, then immediately began walking.

The two of you walked silently to the car, as you desperately tried to build up the courage to talk to her.

As you got in the car, you began,

"Hey, so, how come you've been so quiet today?" You asked Bella, putting on your seatbelt carefully.

"Oh I was just,-" They cleared their throat as if looking for an excuse "Tired, y'know?" She was looking into your eyes now, albeit reluctantly.

You tried to think of something to retort, although their excuse, true or not, seemed believable enough for you to let it go.

"Yeah, okay." You looked down, giving up on your now long gone plan of confrontation.

It's not like you knew what you were confronting them for anyway.

She was just being weird, and she'd been weirder before, it's not exactly like this was a first.

You were so deep into your thoughts that you almost forgot how close together you and Bella were sitting. So lost in your head you barely noticed your eyes slowly fluttering shut, or your head leaning onto Bella's shoulder as you slowly fell asleep.

Bella was blushing hard, the darkness in the car doing absolutely nothing to hide the fact that he was absolutely smitten by you.

Your breathing was soft and even as you unknowingly snuggled closer to Bella in your sleep.

They were frozen, sitting straight up like a statue with their eyes blown wide and their face red. She thanked god that the car ride home was fairly long, wishing you could stay like this forever. This was why he was being so weird, the more he spent time with you the more difficult it proved to talk to you without blushing or stuttering or just straight up freezing when you spoke.

You meant everything to her and they weren't about to let some stupid crush get in the way of your friendship.

Slowly, Bella got more and more comfortable until it came to the point where they no longer could keep their eyes open. She carefully lay her head on yours and fell asleep as well, the two of you now clinging to each other like velcro, not bothering to care about the driver, or the fact that you were in a car, or the fact that "Best friends" weren't usually that clingy.

Ok, this took way too long to write and I think you can CLEARLY tell how touch starved I am, but anyway, enjoy!

#tlou #bella ramsey #bella ramsey x reader #writing #fanfic requests #fanfiction #fanfic #pedro pascal #fluff #part 2?

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luvring · 1 year

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GIFTS THEY GIVE YOU

gn!reader | sugawara, kenma, iwaizumi, akaashi, semi, suna, sakusa

SUGAWARA orders a star map of the sky from the night you met. he points out the different constellations you can see (that he had to look up and ask for help spotting) and lets you trace over it with your fingers. he gets close, his face hovering near your shoulder, before saying, “you might say it’s because you’re a star.” you turn to see him grinning. “don’t talk to me,” you say, unable to hide the smile on your face. “what?” he teases, wrapping his arms around you. “i’m just saying i’m over the moon for you.” “oh my god,” you laugh. hearing it, koushi wonders if he could fill your room with stars with the list of other dates he thought of choosing.

KENMA gets two custom plushies made of your characters from your favourite co-op game. you guys had played it for so long, even before you started dating, that it was a no-brainer for him. his original plan was letting you have your character and keep his own; he thought you’d love to keep your plush yourself. so he’s taken by surprise when you think the opposite and reach for his. “do you think we could keep each other’s? so it’s like you’re there with me?” he blinks and stares at you. but then his gaze softens and he nods, taking yours into his arms. “that’s a good idea.” “promise you’ll keep it safe and happy?” it's a half-joke, and kenma huffs a laugh before playing along. “it—i, yeah, of course.”

IWAIZUMI buys touch bracelets and heart lockets so you know he’s thinking of you, even while he’s away. you set them up together, trying out the different features despite being a foot apart. “i’m gonna go to the washroom, tell me if you can feel it,” you say quickly. hajime watches you pad away with a smile, the smile growing when he notices the bracelet works. it wasn’t like he expected them to not work, but it was relieving to have you kiss him and know his gift was worth it. the first night he goes to sleep with them on, he can’t stop himself from holding the locket, set up with your heartbeat, up to his face. he’s only glad you aren’t there so you couldn’t watch him roll over to smush his face into the pillow, another smile plastered on his lips.

AKAASHI hands you a jar of hand folded stars and hearts. each one has its own note, written whenever he had a message or wanted to remember something. they range from “hi, i love you” to “thanks for paying for lunch <3” to “4/16 first sleepover :).” he scratches the back of his ear while you open it. “i couldn’t choose between stars or hearts, so i hope you don’t mind having both. the ones at the bottom look a little worse than the others, i was still figuring it out.” he laughs and cringes a little, remembering how he looped the same tutorial at least 4 times the first day. keiji’s own heart flutters when you smile and hug him, whispering a thank you into his ear. he’s glad he still has extra paper at home—maybe he can make more for you later.

SEMI makes you a custom cd, including a cover he designs himself. he picked out his favourite songs that remind him of you and the ones that the both of you played while together. if you looked in his desk drawer, you’d find all the different cover designs he thought of and tried out—he couldn’t tell you how many practice trials he did before perfecting it. “i also made it into a playlist since, you know, you won’t always have something to play a cd with you. you can scan the code on the back, i traced it and made sure it works.” he relaxes when you say the titles look good, and later that night when you text to say you loved it, eita lets out what he thinks might be the deepest sigh of his life, finally able to rest.

SUNA teases you, passing a t-shirt that has his face on it with “i’m he’s” on top. he snorts and tries to compose himself at your reaction, asking, “what? you don’t like it?” it’s then that he unzips his jacket and shows you his matching one, and with a wavering voice says, “but i got this one, too.” “god, rintarou.” you throw yours at him and laugh. the both of you take a few photos with them on, mimicking different memes you find. but suna looks softly at you afterwards. “you didn’t really think that was all i got, did you?” you can stare as he pulls out a box from under his bed, filled to the brim with different gifts and food for you. he lets you look for yourself, the only gift that he gives personally being matching lockets he found. when you open the both of them, there’s a photo of the other inside.

SAKUSA commissions art of the both of you using his favourite photo. you could recognize it from anywhere—the two of you were cuddled under a blanket outside, and you could see the warm sunset behind you. it was the one he set as his lockscreen all those months ago, and never changed since. the artist he commissioned was one of your favourites, and he even got them to write a thank you message along with it. your eyes light up when you see it, and you give him a confused smile. “'omi, how did you get a commission? their spots fill up so quickly.” kiyoomi shrugs, sitting down next to you to look over it again. “i’m fast, i guess.” he wouldn’t tell you about the reminders he set for their commissions opening, or how he got the help of his teammates either. he didn’t see the need to when you hug him, whispering “i love you, thank you.” in his ear.

🏷 | @devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @lotus-sukimono @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @semifilms @sakusasdirtyragdoll @dai-tsukki-desu @Thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @leexshin @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @ksyhmm @idontlikeyourjob @sparrowb3nscloset @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtc @dimslover @kuroaka @vampyrkookie @sunaslay @the-midnightskies @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @the-b-u-n-n-y @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu @isentsworld @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu x gn!reader #kenma x reader #iwaizumi x reader #sugawara x reader #suna x reader #akaashi x reader #sakusa x reader #semi x reader #kenma kozume #sugawara koshi #akaashi keiji #iwaizumi hajime #suna rintarou #sakusa kiyoomi #semi eita

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