#any of that would 10 times more useful than me

[pierregazly]

smile kisses ꨄ oscar piastri

oscar piastri x reader

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, a lil steamy towards the end [751 words]

request: if possible can you do a mix of 3 and 10 from the 🫶🏻 prompt list with oscar (if not, just 10 is fine 😽) [3. SMILING during a kiss & 10. "tell me what you want, baby." in the deepest, nearly inaudible murmur]

note: this was so cute!! the prompts??? i died 🤭 this is part of my 1.5k celebration! feel free to request away!!

There wasn’t much that could be said about the way Oscar spent his mornings. He was an early riser, always had been; his breakfast’s pre-planned and pre-made for him; a routine that hadn’t seen change in years.

Until you came into his life, of cour

Oscar had, more than once, affectionately commented about how you had blown up every routine and regime he followed. He would always finish off the joke with a soft kiss and the reaffirmation that he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Winter breaks for the Australian had especially changed. While before he could’ve been found back home, enjoying the summery, hot weather of his hometown; this time around he was found wrapped around you in bed, eyes following the streaks of rainwater that littered the window and gave view to the dreariness that often overtook London this time of year.

He wouldn’t change it for anything in the world, though. Lazy mornings in bed with you on a cold, dreary day was exactly the type of change he was alright with. Especially when your body moulded against his own so perfectly.

Tracing shapes on your bare shoulder, he placed kisses against the imaginary spots after the completion of each one. A smile gracing his lips with every press of them against your skin, as small giggles erupted from inside you at every action.

It was like heaven, hearing your reaction to his ministrations, to the way he professed his love for you. He wasn’t great with words, but he knew how to make you feel loved, how to make you feel wanted.

“Having fun, Osc?”

Murmuring a soft agreement, he continued the game of bringing bumps to your skin as shivers consumed your body. A soft smile continued to grace his face, difficult to keep at bay whenever he was around you.

Tapping at the hand that was placed delicately against your stomach, you gestured for him to let you turn around to face him. Which he begrudgingly did, a mock glare directed at you before a smile broke across his lips as he traced the shape of your face with his eyes, a hand gently cupping your cheek, rubbing a thumb across the skin.

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?”

Feeling your cheeks warm at his words, you pressed your head into the junction of his neck to stifle the giggle of adoration that was bubbling out of you. The beat of his pulse was so delicate against your lips as you pressed a loving kiss to it, a smile still stretched across your features.

“And just so adorable, really,” emphasizing his words, he pressed a finger into a known ticklish spot that instantly prompted you to flinch away from him.

You were easily overpowered by him, Oscar’s body hovering over yours as his fingers dug into your sides, loud squeals of laughter left your lips. It was hard to focus on anything as you tried to maneuver your body out from underneath him, but the large smile on his lips was infectious.

“Osc… oh my god, please. Enough! No more,” you begged, using all your weight to shove him off.

Relenting, the Australian held himself up with his now unoccupied hands, looking down at you as you caught your breath.

He couldn’t help the urge to press his lips down to yours, unable to keep the smile from his face. You couldn’t express in words how much he meant to you, but the feeling of the smile pressed against your lips was really all you needed to know how much he loved you. You couldn’t resist smiling back into the kiss, your fingers weaving into the locks of his hair, trying to show the love he was giving you, right back.

The passion in his kisses, in everything he did, was wondrous. It always felt like he was trying to form every thought, every feeling, every emotion, into the connection of your lips; especially through the never-ending smiles he always had for you.

Practically mewling into his mouth as he deepened the kiss, you felt him start to press his lower body against yours, a soft groan leaving his lips.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he murmured, his voice deepening from the arousal coursing through his system.

You couldn’t help the small whimper that was let out as you looked up at him; eyes hooded and clear with his intention, lips plump, practically begging to be kissed more.

“You, Osc. Always want you.”

AH this isn’t as long as i would’ve liked, but i just wanted it to be tooth-rotting fluff with a lil spice of an ending. i hope you all love it, and thank you to everyone that’s been requesting and celebrating with me 🫶🏻

#oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 writing #f1 imagine #oscar piastri imagine #f1 #mclaren #oscar piastri fanfic #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #oscar piastri blurb #pierregazly's 1.5k celebration

[formula-nyoom]

Don't Get Squeezed | CL 16

Charles Leclerc x Sister!Driver!Reader

Summary: The unexpectedness of the Chinese Grand Prix brings the younger Leclerc sister placing higher than she's ever placed for the upcoming race. But with worries of a high placement and no experience racing this track, a crash seems like an inevitability.

A/N: Pardon my French(literally, I don’t know that much French and had to use google translate). While some would expect me to place this in Suzuka, I decided to go with China because I honestly had no expectations for that race and was stressed something bad was gonna happen the whole time. 

~~~

The Chinese Grand Prix seemed to have an air of tense unexpectedness. Having not raced the track since 2019, none of the teams knew what to expect from this race weekend. With new car regulation, updated track maintenance, and the fact that 5 drivers have never raced this track before, it was well known that anything could happen. 

Out of all the things, you never expected to qualify P10 at a track you’ve never raced before. It sounded like a miracle that you were able to fly your Haas into starting in the top 10. But while the team was proud of your efforts, you were very nervous.

 “I’ve never started in the Top 10, Char! I only know how to start from the back, and honestly I think I’d prefer it there since it’s easier to avoid first lap crashes from the back.” You said to your brother as you paced your hotel room.

“That’s not true. You started from the top 10 and even the front plenty of times in F2. How is this any different?” Charles asked. You scoffed.

“En quoi est-ce différent? It’s different because in F2 I had a good car and was constantly lapping the others. I still don’t know how I managed to get my Haas in front of Sir Lewis Hamilton today!” You exclaimed.

 “I don’t see what’s so surprising about you qualifying P10. That’s the same spot you ended the sprint race in.”

 “That’s because, in the sprint I was able to climb my way from the back.” You told him. Charles let out an exasperated sigh at your own self doubt. He could partially see why you were nervous. Starting in a much higher position than where you usually qualify puts more expectations on your shoulder to do better. They’re even higher expectations then the one you already have with being a Leclerc. But Charles knew that you could do well, not just because he was your older brother but because he’s seen you drive. You may start from the back often, but your racing skills are phenomenal to where you constantly end in the points. Even if you were to drop from P10 at the start of the race, Charles knew that you’d be able to work your way back up and higher. 

KNOCK! KNOCK!

Charles’ thought process was interrupted by a knock at the door. He walked over and opened it, being met by Arthur with bags of food in his hands.

“Arthur, can you please help me reassure our sister that she will do amazingly starting in P10?” Charles asked as he let his younger brother into the room.

 “Arthur, can you remind Charles that the only reason I did good in F2 was because I outperformed everyone with a good car?” You asked, taking the bag that was offered to you from Arthur.

“I’m confused. What’s going on?” Arthur asked as he set the other bags down. You sighed.

 “I don’t think it’s a good thing I’m starting in 10th place for tomorrow’s race, considering how I’m much more accustomed to starting in the back.” You explained.

 “I think she’ll be fine.” Charles said.

“What’s the main thing you’re worried about with being in the top 10 at the beginning?” Arthur asked.

 “Getting squeezed. Everyone at the front is always bunched up trying to overtake at the start. I’m worried that I’m gonna get stuck in the middle since I can’t pull back or move forward starting in 10th place.” It was a common worry, one you had during every race. But it seemed to be much bigger now with your current grid placement.

“So don’t get squeezed. Keep your elbows out but be mindful of your surroundings.” Arthur said nonchalantly. You let out an exasperated sigh at your brother’s response. Charles saw that Arthur’s response didn’t help you and placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. 

 “Trust me (Y/N), as someone who has started in the top 10 multiple times, awareness of your surroundings is key. It may be tempting to overtake right from the start, but if you're that worried about possibly getting hit by someone, just remember to leave a gap.” He told you.

 “You’re one to talk about leaving gaps, Mr Inchedent.” You said, your own teasing managing to get you to smile. Charles sighed.

 “Peut-être que je te pousserai hors de la piste demain.(Maybe I’ll push you off the track tomorrow)” He mumbled. You laughed and threw a pillow at him.

 “Tu n'oserais pas!(You wouldn’t dare!)” You said, dodging the pillow that Charles threw back in your direction. 

~~~

The weather seemed to know how nervous you were and decided to make it worse by making it rain. It was only a drizzle, not hard enough to cancel the race. But every driver knew how unexpected wet conditions can be when racing. Even a drizzle can turn a driver’s race upside down. You’d just hoped you wouldn’t be one of them.

Before having to get into your cars, you and Charles managed to get away from your teams’ garages and give each other a hug for reassurance. It was your guys' tradition before each race. A promise that you would make it to the end. Arthur was able to join you two this time and you were glad that both of them were here. 

 “Don’t get squeezed.” Arthur said, giving you a shoulder pat before following Charles back to the Ferrari garage. If Arthur wasn’t Ferrari’s development driver, he would be in the Haas garage supporting you. But he had to settle for supporting both his siblings from only one team garage today. 

For the first time since joining F1, you slotted your car into the P10 spot after the formation lap while everyone waited for the lights to go out. You spotted your brother who was ahead of you in P2. You made eye contact with him through his car’s mirrors and gave him a thumbs up. Charles gave you a nod in return before you both directed your attention to the lights that were set to blink on at any moment.

Blink…Blink…Blink…Blink…Blink

The lights went out and everything roared to life. You slammed your foot on the throttle and your car cruised forward, steadily gaining speed. You immediately went to move to the outer edge of the approaching turn to hopefully avoid any front placement congestion.

 “Don’t get squeezed.” You thought to yourself.

A lot can happen on the first lap. Hell a lot can happen in the first turn.

You didn’t get squeezed going into turn one. Or turn two and 3. There was a bit of sliding on the track because of the wet conditions but you managed to get your car under control. It was the last turn, the turn that a lot of the drivers struggled with throughout the week, where everything went wrong.

You weren’t able to see who it was that was trying to overtake you. You felt the hit to the side of your car and could tell that it was too hard based on how fast you and the other car were going. But by then it was too late to break as your car started to spin out.

It’s when the ground switches from asphalt to gravel that the car starts to flip….

And flip…

And flip…

Your vision becomes a quick mixture of sky and ground as the car continues to roll. It’s too fast for you to properly brace for the impact with the barrier and all too quickly the only thing you see is darkness.

“Red Flag! Red Flag!” The voice of Charle’s race engineer quickly comes over the radio as he brakes going into turn one.

“What happened?” Charle’s asked, trying to split his attention between driving and whatever his engineer is going to say next.

“Return to the pits. We are trying to get more details and will update you once you’re in the pits.”

“Did someone crash? Tell me what happened.” Worry started to build up in his chest as multiple scenarios flashed through his mind, his sister a part of many of them.

 “There was a collision between an…Alpine…and a Haas.” 

Charles almost lost control of the car going into turn seven upon hearing what cars were involved but quickly recovered.

“Tell me it’s not (Y/N).” Charles demanded. “Please, tell me it’s not my sister that was involved.”

The silence from his race engineer seemed deafening. He probably knew that anything but the confirmation that his sister was safe could send Charles into a literal spiral on the track.

 “Come back to the pits Charles. Please.” It sounded like his race engineer was almost pleading with him and Charles reluctantly followed the orders and headed into the pit lane.

As soon as Charles’s car stopped in the Ferrari pitlane, he immediately got out of the car, not even taking the time to disengage his steering wheel. The pit crew tried to stop them but Charles pushed them away as he ran over to Haas garage. Charles’s hope rose when he saw the familiar white of a Haas car pull in, but it was quickly dashed when he saw that it wasn’t his sister pulling in, but her teammate. 

 Charles didn’t want to take that as confirmation that his sister was involved with the crash. He immediately ran over to the pit wall. His sister’s race engineer would tell him she was ok, right?

“(Y/N), are you ok?” Was the first thing Charles heard out of the engineer’s mouth. 

“Tell me my sister’s ok. She’s answering, right?” The race engineer barely glanced at the Ferrari driver, focusing more on getting a response from their own driver.

 “Are you ok? (Y/N) please respond.” The engineer said again. Charles wanted to take the engineer’s headset off, and ask that question himself. Hear his sister’s voice. Get confirmation that she was ok. But Charles’s eyes finally landed on one of the screens that was showing the replay of the crash.

You were approaching the last turn. For some reason Ocon decided to attempt an overtake when it was far too late and he got too close. His front wheel hit the side of your car, hard, causing you to violently spin. Charles' heart dropped into his stomach as he watched your car flip over and over on the gravel and it might as well have shattered when he watched your car harshly collide with the safety barrier.

“I’m getting no response.” Charles heard your engineer say to the team principal. Charles’ vision started to tunnel and all the noise around him became muffled. He didn’t even register that Arthur was now standing in front of him, trying to speak to him, but Charles didn’t hear anything.

His sister wasn’t responding

There was no movement from the car.

Is she breathing? She had to be? She had to be ok?

She’s alive right?

She was so worried about her placement and crashing. She wasn’t supposed to crash!

Charles’ brain betrays him as it thinks back to the one person he didn’t want to think about at this moment. This crash reminds him too much of Jules. It hits too close to home because the person in the car is his little sister. The little girl who was so enthusiastic about watching his karting races when he was younger. Who wanted to be just like her older brother and managed to race her way up the motorsports ladder. His little sister who made it into Formula 1 and who he gets to race alongside almost every weekend. 

Both of you knew from an early age the dangers of being a race car driver. But despite every crash, you’ve always managed to walk away from it. But all Charles saw was your car. Upside down and wedged in a barrier. There was no sign of movement from what little he could see of the driver’s seat, and you weren’t responding to your engineer. 

He couldn’t lose anyone else to this sport. Not after Jules…you had promised him that you would make it to the end-

“Charles!”

Charles snapped out of his panic state as Arthur yelled his name. He could tell now that he had begun to hyperventilate, and tried to calm his breathing.

 “They want you to try and talk to her.” Arthur said. “Maybe you can get a response.”

Charles numbly nodded and took the headset that was being offered to him. 

 “(Y/N), it’s Charlie…can you hear me? Are you ok?”

The silence was so loud.

“....(y/n)....(Y/N)!”

Consciousness slowly came back to you as you started to gain a sense of your surroundings. Your head was swimming and you couldn’t tell what was up or down. How did you get here? One second you were racing…and the next?

You had gotten squeezed.

“(Y/N)...can you hear me?” A voice came over your radio. Your arm trembled as you strained to press the radio button on your steering wheel. God, did everything hurt and you felt tears start to well up from the pain you felt. 

“Charles…” Your brother’s voice was the first thing you recognized. The one thing you could recognize in the darkness and confusion of your current predicament.

 “(Y/N)! Are you ok!” Charles asked over the radio. He sounded so worried and you mentally kicked yourself a bit knowing you were the cause of the worry.

“Charlie…everything hurts…I can’t move.” You told him. It was true. You felt trapped under your seatbelt and felt that one little movement would send pain throughout your whole body. 

 “Breathe sœur, breathe. Your car is upside down and wedged in the barrier. The safety marshals are trying to flip the car over to get you out right now.” Charles explained. That offered some comfort.  You listened to Charles' advice as you tried to take deep breaths. You moved your head a bit to try and get awareness of your surroundings, but even moving it an inch sent a wave of nausea through your body. You felt the car shake and braced your body as the car was flipped over and your vision was filled with daylight. You had to take in more deep breaths before you could lift your head and make eye contact with the safety marshal who was checking to see if you were ok. You managed to give them a thumbs up, a sign that you were conscious, and they immediately went to help you out of the car. Fans cheered as they saw you climb out of the car with assistance. Signs of relief seemed to echo throughout the pitlane and Charles and Arthur practically collapsed to their knees with relief at the sight of you alive and moving. Charles looked to the sky and placed a hand over his heart.

“Merci Jules…” He quietly whispered before hugging Arthur tight.

Despite the immense pain and the swimming feeling in your head, you managed to wave your hand to the closest grandstand, sending the fans a message that you were ok.  

Charles and Arthur watched as you were helped to the ambulance and placed on the stretcher. You would need to be taken to a hospital to assess any injuries and possibility of a concussion. Arthur told Charles that he would meet you at the hospital and call Lorenzo and Mama. Because despite everything that just happened…the race still needed to be finished. Charles would rather be in the ambulance with you than get back in his Ferrari and race on the same track that you had just crashed at. He wished the race didn’t need to be finished at all. But it had to. And if Charles had to race, then he was going to win. He was going to win for his little sister. 

~~~

Next to all the flowers and get well cards, on your hospital bedside table was a beautiful first place trophy. Charles barely stayed on the podium after receiving it, immediately heading to the hospital you were taken to once the celebrations were done. When he arrived, he was grateful to hear that you only had a sprained wrist, bruising and a concussion. He wished you weren’t injured at all, but compared to how crashes go, you got off on the better side. Charle’s sent another silent thank you to Jules, as doctor told him that the halo was one of the main things that prevented further injuries.

“I think I’ll purposely try to start from the back for the rest of the season.” You said while sitting up in your hospital bed playing Uno with Arthur. The doctors decided that you should stay overnight to monitor your concussion.

 “I think that may be a good idea.” Charles said as he sat next to you, watching the current card game take place. 

 “Or, you start on pole every race.  You don’t have to worry about being surrounded by the other cars if you’re already in the front.” Arthur said, placing a card down. 

 “Yea but then the only view Charles would get the whole race would be my rear wing and I don’t know if that’s a view he can enjoy every race.” You said. Charles rolled his eyes.

 “Maybe I should get the doctor to check your head again with all the nonsense you just spoke.” Charles said. “As I recall you’ve been chasing my rear wing throughout the seasons.”

 “Uno!” You declared, placing your second to last card down. “Please Charles, it’s only a matter of time before I beat you at a race. Like how I’m about to beat Arthur at this game.”

 “There’s no way you’re going to win. I know for a fact you don’t have any blues.” Arthur said, placing down a blue five. He gave you a sly smirk that quickly fell when you gave him one back. Without saying a word, you placed down a +4. 

#f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #charles leclerc x reader #platonic grid x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x driver!reader #charles leclerc x sister!reader

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

just for tonight

a/n: sure, I was vigilantly working on a different wip (a very long one that needed a lot of strength to get through) but then this whole fantasy came to me and i just couldn't stop myself... at least i downgraded the idea from a full-fledged series (which i sadly very much do not have the time for) to just a slutty little one shot in an au that i can always pop back into whenever the itch pops up (or when anyone has a slutty request for it hehe).

summary: before you could even consider the possible consequences, a desperate request then fell from your lips, “well, what if I’m not asking you to be with me? What if it’s just for tonight? What if I’m only asking you to be with me for one night? Would you give me that?” you blinked up at him, scarcely breathing at all, “would you be mine just till the sun comes up?” 

warnings: bodyguard!bucky barnes x reader, smut, reader's mom is the british ambassador to france, age gap (10-15 years), tattooed!bucky (both a metal arm and tattoos as picked in a poll by you), beefy!bucky, forbidden romance, posh political party, alcohol consumption, wet dream, lingerie, stockings, one night stand (except we already know those fools can't keep it to just one night), kissing, dirty talk, manhandling, size kink, oral, fingering, impact play, squirting, gaping, belly bulge, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie

word count: 4907

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist

“You sure, you don’t want some?” you squinted over at your bodyguard as you lowered the champagne flute from your lips, “this shit costs more than my dress, which is really saying something,” you pointed to the red silk gown that hung from your frame, “this is Dior.”

“I’m good, miss,” Bucky uttered, tight-lipped as always. 

“Right, sorry,” you sat the glass down at the tall table you stood beside, “can’t drink while on duty.”

Posh parties such as the one tonight were always a bit of a drag to get through. Even though you’d been hauled along for most of your life, they’d never gotten any more amusing. 

But when your mother hired Barnes to be your personal bodyguard a few months back, the thought of getting dolled up just to have a bunch of provoking politicians talk your ear off about ideas you’d never in a million years support, somehow didn’t seem as bad as it used to now that he was constantly at your side. 

It had been a little incident involving your phone getting hacked, an explicit video nearly getting leaked, one that had been made for an ex who lived in another country to make the distance more barrable, and a few threatening messages from the perpetrator that had been the reason for your new shadow. 

Though you’d been resistant at first, storming into your mother’s office to state that you were a grown woman and didn’t need a babysitter just because someone tried to exploit an old sex tape that in your opinion wasn’t even that big of a deal, swiftly got squashed when a then stranger cleared his throat behind you and shared the more gruelling threats that had been made alongside the hacking. 

You’d hoped and prayed that he’d turn out to be a pain, that his personality could squash the feelings that fluttered inside of you whenever you looked at him, but unfortunately, he wasn’t an asshole. He was quiet, professional to a fault, but he wasn’t a dick. If anything, all of the silence and all of the glances to always keep track of you made the crush worse. It made you feel as if you were in a Jane Austen novel, reading between the lines of subtext your unreliable brain came up with.

“You tired?” he asked as a yawn rolled out of you. 

“Mhm,” you hummed behind the palm you had brought up to your lips. 

“The car’s ready to take you back to the embassy whenever you are.” 

A grateful smile twitched at your lip as you offered him a small nod of confirmation, “I’ll just go tell my mom.”

The ambassador, your mother, had her back turned to you as she talked business with a small group of people even though the hour had grown late. 

You waited for a sliver of a break before you tapped her on the shoulder and whispered in her ear.

“Hey, mom?” her palm found yours as she turned to look at you, “I’m gonna head home.”

“Oh, alright,” she leaned in and pressed a small peck to your cheek, “see you tomorrow, love.”

“Bye,” you gave her hand one last squeeze before heading out of the elegant venue, your guard still only a few paces behind you. 

A dusty drizzle met your skin as you exited onto the midnight streets of Paris. The sensation made you want to walk home, though you still followed Bucky to the black car already waiting and slipped in when he opened the back door for you. 

The light from the city reflected on the back of his metal hand as it gripped the steering wheel. You could faintly spot the prominent veins on the other one dance beneath the inked skin as it did the same, tattoos you still ached to discover just how far they stretched beneath his dark suit. 

Though soon your gaze flickered away from his silhouette as he drove, and fluttered out to the glittering cityscape rolling by, the vision of which swiftly lulled you to sleep. 

When you arrived home, Bucky’s steely eyes found your slumbering form in the rear-view mirror. You didn’t rouse when he opened your door and carefully picked you up into his arms. You didn’t wake either as he carried you inside, all the way up to your bedroom, and layed you down on your bed. 

Gently, he removed your heels and quietly placed them down on the hardwood floor before he grabbed your duvet and tugged it over your form. 

But just as he moved to leave your side, half asleep you caught his hand.

“Don’t go…” you murmured hazily, eyes still shut. 

And so, he didn’t.

Bucky simply reached for the tufted chair nearby and, as silently as he could, scooted it closer to the bed. 

Barely an hour passed before you woke. 

Before you even blinked open your eyes, your fingers began to slide down your body as the sinful dream you’d been blessed with still lingered in your foggy brain. 

Though when your eyes did flutter open and discovered the star of the dream sitting in a chair right next to you, your hand halted its voyage, and you sucked in a startled breath. 

“You okay?” he asked softly as you blinked a few times. 

“Uh,” the throbbing that still lingered from the dream probably wasn’t going to fade any faster with him sitting there with his unwavering stare, “yeah, I’m–, uhm…” you propped yourself up on your elbow before sitting up more, “I’m fine.” 

“Did you have a nightmare?”

“No, it wasn’t a–…” your sentence then crumbled as you sucked in a breath, “what are you doing watching me sleep?”

As you met his gaze, he then uttered, “you asked me to stay.”

Your eyes then widened, “I did?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh…” though you couldn’t recall, heat still began to bloom on your cheeks, “I’m sorry, I didn’t–”

“It's alright,” his shoulders offered a faint shrug. 

Averting your gaze, you noticed that you were still in your dress. You weren’t quite sure if it pleased you or not that Bucky didn’t try to strip it off you, though it was probably less the moral intentions and more the fantasy of him peeling it off of you that swayed you. 

“Were you just planning on sleeping in that chair all night?” you asked. 

“No,” he shook his head, “I wasn’t planning on sleeping at all.” 

A tinge of guilt stung in your chest, “I’m really sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking, I must have been asleep or something…” you then swung your legs over the side of the bed and got up. As your fingers raised up to pluck off your sparkling earrings, your feet began to carry you in the direction of your wardrobe. Dropping the jewellery off in a small porcelain bowl on the opposite bedside table, you then glanced back at your bodyguard and said, “you don’t have to stay any longer, you can go back to your room and get some sleep.” 

Offering you a nod, he then began to walk towards the door. 

Though, as you reached back to undo your dress, you abruptly uttered, “wait,” and he stopped before his steely fingers could enclose around the door handle. Turning to glance back at you, a bold request then hesitantly fell from your lips, “could you maybe help unzip me?”

He barely made a noise, simply hummed quietly in response before his slow stride carried him towards your frame as it twisted for your back to be turned to him.

When you felt his touch on the zipper, tugging it down ever so slowly, your breath came in ragged, and your eyes fluttered shut. You swore you felt his radiating heat seep into you as he exposed more of your goosebump-ridden spine. 

As the straps tumbled over your shoulders, your hands came up to your chest to hold it up even though you wished for nothing more than to let it drop before him.

And when the zipper finally reached its end, he lingered right behind you just long enough for you to catch the tether of it. Slowly, as if you were dealing with a skittish bird, you rotated around. You didn’t dare to look him in the eyes as you let yourself follow that magnetic pull you’d been trying to keep at bay. Your gaze flickered up to his lips as heated puffs of air seeped from your lungs and you slowly, hypnotically, inched closer. 

But then Bucky opened his mouth and said in a soft and quiet tone, “what are you doing?” making you halt, though not pull back. 

“Please don’t act like you don’t already know… I know you do…”

“You can’t,” he uttered, though didn’t move to walk away either as he captured your gaze, “we can’t, alright?”

“Why not?” you breathed, your eyes returning to his lips, “is it really that important for you to stay professional over everything else? Or is it that I’m just a job to you?” your heart felt as if it was gonna beat straight out of your chest, “you know I like you, I know you do. You notice everything, so of course you know. Am I right?”

A long exhale then flowed from his lungs before the faintest of nods tilted his head, “…yeah.”

“And I have eyes too, I’ve seen the way you look at me,” a shiver trickled down your spine, “so, are you really gonna just stand there and pretend you don’t feel something too? Just go back to your own room and continue to protect me like nothing’s going on?”

“Y/n, I can’t be with you,” he shook his head heavily, “you know I can’t.” 

Can’t or won’t?

Before you could even consider the possible consequences, a desperate request then fell from your lips, “well, what if I’m not asking you to be with me? What if it’s just for tonight? What if I’m only asking you to be with me for one night? Would you give me that?” you blinked up at him, scarcely breathing at all, “would you be mine just till the sun comes up?” 

As if your quiet whispers melted him completely, your bodyguard breathed, “…fuck…” and the next thing you knew, he’d grabbed your face and seized your lips. 

It was like something inside of him had snapped, something you had shattered, with the way that he kissed you as if he’d been drowning and your lips were oxygen. 

As you lost yourself in the sensation of his tongue dancing across your own, you let the red dress drop down your body, passed the sheer stockings that clung around your thighs, to the floor. Like fire, one of his hands disappeared from your cheek and ran down your frame, grazing over the black lingerie that was now exposed.  

Though heated and hungry at first, the kiss soon softened into lighter pecks. 

With his metal hand, he held your face close to his as he withdrew from the kiss, an action you weren’t quite ready for as you dreamily trailed after him a bit, longing for his lips. 

“Are you sure this is what you want?” his hot breath fanned across your features. 

“Yes,” you whispered swiftly. 

But as you dizzily blinked up at him, he simply hummed for you to elaborate, “hm?”

“Yes, I want you,” goosebumps tingled across your skin. 

“You want me to what?” his thumb swiped over your cheekbone. 

“I want you to–, to–…” you fumbled as you felt your desire drip and soak your panties, making them cling to your aching core. 

“To what, huh?” 

“To–… fuck me,” the embarrassingly desperate words tumbled out your mouth. 

“You want me to fuck you?” his unwavering stare briefly dropped to your parted lips.

“Yes,” the syllable rushed out of you. 

“Say it again,” he tilted his chin. 

“I want you to fuck me.”

“Louder,” his feet began to shift, causing yours to shuffle back as well. 

“I want you to fuck me.”

“One more time,” his hand had dropped down to your jaw and his fingers curled slightly to dent your soft cheeks. 

“I want you to fuck me, please!” 

With the hold he had on you, he swiftly dipped down and pressed his lips to yours once more. The world then fell out from under you as his grasp scooped down your frame and plucked you up.

Your arms tangled around his neck right before your back collided with the closet door and your lips tilted away from his as a short squeak slipped out. The distance however lent Bucky to let his kisses dance down the length of your neck and across your cleavage, so perfectly framed by the sheer fabric of your bra. 

Though the hickeys he began to plant across your skin made your eyes roll in your skull, your fingers still captured his tie and tugged him back up for your lips to crash against his. As you moved to push his blazer off, his sturdy grip on you shifted though still held you close as the jacket fell from his burly frame and your palms swiftly scooped over his broad shoulders and down his chest, now one layer closer to letting you actually get to feel the furnace roiling beneath.

Cupping his face close, whimpers seeped out of you and vibrated against his lips as his fingers dug into your ass and rubbed your barely covered cunt over the palpable tent in his pants, your want surely drenching through your thin underwear and marking him as well. 

You almost didn’t realise that Bucky had moved till he dropped you down on the bed. Taking a step back, his tongue briefly flicked across his breathless lips as his fingers lifted to tug his tie off. 

Staring directly into your soul, he uttered, “take your bra off,” as he tossed the tie to the floor and your fingers scrambled to fulfil his request. When you flung the lingerie to the ground, right next to his crumbled tie, the cool night air kissed your pebbly nipples and Bucky let out a murmured curse right before bending down to press his lips to yours. 

Balanced on your elbows, you parted your lips and let his tongue sweep across your own. His touch coasted down your frame, barely granting your tits any attention before his grasp hooked around your thighs and yanked you closer to the edge of the mattress. A surprised yelp escaped you at first at the sudden shift, but as the sting of saliva, that had lingered and connected you from your sloppy kiss, snapped back against your skin, the short cry morphed into a fizzy giggle. 

The light laugh however faded away when you watched him sink to his knees at the foot of the bed. Your legs curled up even further on either side of you, though you weren’t quite sure if that was you or him pushing them up and cracking you open that much more. You could feel his breath hit your pantie-clad core as his gaze fixated on the soaked spot right over your puff. 

When his palm slid up your inner thigh, he only had to reach out his thumb for the broad pad to ghost over your covered slit. His eyes swiftly flickered up to capture yours, checking your reaction as you began to squirm from his feathery light touch. 

Hooking his finger in the gusset, he pulled it to the side and a glossy string stretched out and clung to the fabric as he revealed your glistening pussy. 

A breathy moan billowed out of you as he began to touch you, rolling your little pearl beneath his touch. Finding your eyes once more, he held your gaze as he then leaned down to press a gentle kiss over your clit. 

“This okay?” his voice vibrated against your bundle of nerves, making you twitch. 

“Mhm,” you nodded foggily, “you can do anything you want.”

“Anything?” his lips twitched into a smirk as his fingers stretched from where they were clutching your panties to brush over your button.

“Yeah,” you breathed, “fucking anything.” 

Your mouth then hung agape at the sight of him dipping down to ruthlessly taste your desire. It didn’t take long before he lost himself in you so fiercely that he momentarily leaned back only to rip your underwear off. Both of his hands curved around your bottom, raking across your skin as he drew you even closer to his tongue and dragged it through your wet folds.

Bumping his nose against your clit, he let himself make out with your cunt a moment longer before planting a farewell peck over your pearl and pulling back. A dollop of spit dropped from his lips down onto your pussy. Catching the drop with his fingers before it slid away, he rubbed it into your own juices and made you that much more of a mess. 

“O-oh,” you moaned as he slowly slid a long finger into you after teasing your weepy entrance enough to make you shiver. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he groaned at the soppy sounds his efforts conjured.

Craning down to kiss your clit sloppily, Bucky then slid his ring finger in beside the other, curving them gently as he reached even deeper. 

When he momentarily retracted his digits to land a small tap over your puffy petals, the smile that bloomed on your face only egged him on further. Plugging you back up, he then retracted and repeated the slap though with more ferocity. 

Your head began to lull a bit as he brought his vibranium digits down to roll your clit and his fingers began to fuck you harder, not faster, but with an intent that made your pussy sing for him. 

With your thighs trembling, they nearly slammed shut as you felt the end near, but your bodyguard only slid his strong metal forearm over your legs, hooking it right under both of your bent knees, to keep you spread nice and open for him. 

The veins on the back of his inked hand popped from how fiercely his fingers rocked within you. 

Stretching his thumb up to strum your clit, he tried to sneak a third finger inside of you as he felt your walls begin to flutter around him. 

“That’s it, I’ve got you,” as he always did in every manner, evidently. A smile curved at his lips as your eyes fluttered closed and a symphony of moans flowed out of you with every last tender stroke he offered you to carry you over the edge, “atta girl.”

Melted against the sheets, you caught your breath as he planted one last peck on your inner thigh before standing back up. 

Slowly, with his gaze ever glued on you, he unbuttoned his shirt, gradually revealing the silver shine of the dog tags that hung from his neck and the tattoos that sprawled across his skin. Going all the way up from the hand still shiny with your essence, the ink swirled up his right arm, across his pecs, down his back and even curved over to his left shoulder and intentionally tangled into the gnarly scares sprouting from the border of his prosthetic. 

When the button-up hit the floor, his fingers drifted down to unhurriedly remove his belt, pulling it out of the loops, he let it join the shirt before he undid his pants and let his cock spring free. 

“Jesus christ…” your jaw couldn’t help but drop to the floor as your eyes fluttered at the intimidating reveal. 

Noticing the anxiety that peeked through your lust-ridden expression, his low voice found your ears, “what? Did you change your mind?” 

“No, I just–…” you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his fat cock as it throbbed before you, “I got a bit nervous all of a sudden.” 

“No reason to be nervous, baby,” he breathed out a smile as his fist curled around his girth.  

“Oh really?” you nearly began to laugh. 

“You’ll be fine,” drool threatened to escape the corner of your lips as he slowly began to stroke himself, “trust me.” 

“Really? Because I’m not so sure I’ll be able to take that…” 

“You will,” he uttered calmly as he dipped down to give you a kiss, “don’t worry,” a hand slid into your hair as he cradled your face and ushered your gaze to find his, “you know I’d never hurt you, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So, you’ll be fine,” his thumb curved to sweep over your cheek a few times. 

“Yeah,” you gently nodded and repeated after him, “I’ll be fine.”

“That’s my girl,” he smiled. Kissing you once more, he then pressed a peck to your forehead before his grasp found your hips and he suddenly flipped you around, onto your stomach. 

Helping you up onto your hands and knees, a hazy smile stretched across your features as he bent down over you and pressed kisses all along your spine. Dragging his bulbous tip through your sopping folds, he then teased you for so long, never granting you any more than a dizzying nudge, that whines began to escape from you.

“P-please,” you heard yourself beg as your fingers bunched up the sheets. 

“What?” he continued to flick and tap your swollen clit with the head of his heavy cock.

“I–I want it–, plea–, please fuck me,” you blubbered desperately. 

“Oh, now you want it, huh?” you could hear the smirk that dominated his face, “suddenly not so nervous anymore about me stretching you out, are you?”

“Bucky, plea–, o-oh–,” you felt your limbs tremble beneath you as he slipped the very tip inside. 

His efforts were so slow at first, gradually giving you more of his length and just shallowly fucking you till you blossomed and opened up for him. 

Gradually, his thrusts began to ease from a mind-numbingly slow pace to something that truly scrambled your brain. You soon lost yourself completely to the molten sensation of his fat girth steadily splitting you open. 

Though when he finally bottomed out within you, a shrill gasp slipped out passed your lips and your frame shuttered beneath him. 

Drawing his hips back just enough for you to regain the ability to fill your lungs with oxygen once more, you heard him murmur in your ear, “what, is it too much dick for you?” retraining his thrusts slightly, he kept his tip from kissing your cervix, “that better or is it still too deep for you?” his hands dented your hips.

“N-no, no, it feels so good, it’s just–,” a whimper slipped out of you and broke up your slurring, “you’re so fucking big, I’ve never–,” you felt like you could feel him all the way up in your throat, “no one’s ever been that fucking deep before.”

One of his hands curved down to your clit at the exact same time as your own did. As they met, he let your own fingers swirl over your puffy pearl as his simply lingered, till he suddenly grasped your wrist and gently led it away from your pussy, further up to your lower stomach. 

“That deep?” he pressed down on your palm and let you discover the dull bulge that formed in your belly at every one of his dizzying thrusts, “has no one ever stuffed you that full before? Not even one of your pretty toys you play with so often?”

“Nuh-uh,” you panted as his warm contact dissipated from your spine and he straightened back up. 

A gravelly moan slipped out past Bucky’s lips as he glanced down to see how tightly your creamy pussy was gripping onto his cock. Your fingers returned to the sheets as his wide palm came down to slap your ass, your back arching at the impact and consequently angling his efforts so that the details of his dick brushed against your g-spot in the most heavenly way imaginable. 

He only buried himself inside of you a few more times, his heavy sack tapping against your buzzing clit at every electric buck, till your pussy gushed around his fat girth. 

“There you go,” he pulled out only to insistently flick your puffy pearl with his tip, “fucking hell,” he then plunged his cock all the way back in before dragging it back out, “keep going,” ushering more squirt to drizzle out. He kept up the overwhelming pattern till your pussy stopped gushing for him, till he’d pushed you through the overstimulation and your cunt slowly began to relax again for him. Eventually, when he steadily withdrew from you, he craned his neck to relish in the way your little hole had stretched out and accommodated so well for him, it even winking sinfully at him every time he pulled out, “good fucking girl,” he growled at the sight, “told you so, you’d do just fine,” your shaky frame jolted as he slapped your ass again, “look at you now fucking gaping for me, christ…”

With a ring of your cream staining the base of his cock, he let himself return to your warmth for longer than just a few seconds, fucking you with such ferocity that your pliant form, still molten and unsteady from your second orgasm, collapsed onto the mattress below. 

Though he successfully caught you before you could slip off his cock entirely, he still let you drop down on the bed, though softened the fall for you, before he followed suit. 

The weight of him on top of you felt so comforting and soothed on your tingly skin.

“You okay?” he kissed your cheek before spreading your stocking-clad legs with his own. 

“Hm,” you nodded foggily and felt yourself drool onto the sheets as he squished you further into the mattress.

Your shaky moans filled the bedroom as he slid back inside, “fuck, you feel so good…” sloppily nipping just below your ear before he picked up his pace. 

The chain that dangled from his neck felt cool on your skin and acted as a stark contrast to how hot his body felt pressed against your back. 

“You think you can be a good girl and cum for me again?” he groaned into your ear as his efforts echoed sloppily, “let me feel that pretty pussy squeeze around me one last time?”

“I-I don’t know,” you trembled beneath him, every one of his deep thrusts making you jolt and gasp for air as he was practically splitting you in half. 

“You don’t know?” he sweetly whispered in your ear as he curled his arms under you. One hand slid under your tit and caught your pebbly nipple in a rude pinch while the other soared down to your sore and swollen clit, “can you try for me? Try and cum again,” your eyes had fallen completely shut, so your whole reality had just become Bucky’s reassuring weight, his tantalising efforts, and his sinful whispers that seeped directly into your soul, “try and squirt for me one last time, sweetheart.” 

And so, you did. It didn’t even take that long before you tumbled over one last time and your pussy creamed for him, drenching the already damp sheets beneath you, as he swiftly came as well, throbbing deep within your clenching cunt and filling your little hole up to the brim till it tried to leak and escape around his girth.

His heavy pants faded from your ear as he slowly crawled off of you, cascading a tender trail of kisses all the way down your body till he gently retraced his track of pecks and settled down next to you. Fluttering your eyes open as his palm slid up to your heated cheek, he gazed into your hazy eyes for a moment before leaning in to softly press his lips to your own. 

You wanted to curl in closer to his frame, but your body was so exhausted that you could barely raise your pinkie finger. Fortunately though, as you layed there in wordless wonder, Bucky’s arms draped around you as he scooted in close, hugging you to him and gently caressing your skin as you continued to blink back into his ocean eyes, not uttering a word out of fear that you’d ruin the blissful moment.

After perhaps a small eternity had passed, he briefly raised his head up slightly to catch sight of the small clock on your bedside table. 

“There’s still a few more hours left before the sunrise…” he settled back down beside you.

“Oh, yeah?” a soft smile tilted up your lips as his touch began to travel south. 

“Yeah,” his lips gently parted in a silent moan as his fingers slid through your sore folds. His stare was transfixed on how your brows knitted together and a quiet hiss slipped out of you as he swirled over your sensitivity, playing with the hot load he’d pumped into you as it slowly leaked out, one of his digits too brash not to try and stuff it back inside, “what do you think?” sharing your breath, he inched in and let his nose nuzzle against your own, “do you want me to be yours just a little bit longer or would you rather I’d return to my own bed?” 

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

#lea’s writing #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bodyguard!bucky #bodyguard!bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes hc #bucky x reader #sebastian stan smut #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes oneshot #winter soldier smut

[whateverisbeautiful]

Hi! I just wanted to say that I discovered your top 30 Richonne list a few days ago and I've been down the meta rabbit hole you've so wonderfully crafted this entire week so far. I've cried and smiled so much reading them. Each post is just so beautiful.

I was reading one of your Reveling in Richonne posts this morning for episode 10 x 04 where Michonne talked with Ezekiel about how much she still misses Rick and loves him so much and that she misses his walk and now I can't get over it. Now I'm thinking about all those times when she looked at Rick walking towards or away from her pre- and post-canon where she would be thinking the man I'm crushing on, then eventually the man I love is so sexy. Is there any chance you can do a post speculating those moments where they are both checking each out specifically regarding Michonne checking out Rick's walk?

Also I cant wait for you to do a Reveling in Richonne continuation based on TOWL 👀? So excited! Lastly I just need you to know that my Richonne withdrawals have been pretty bad now that TOWL has concluded. So discovering your blog and your metas have been giving me my whole entire life and I just want to say thank you and that I really appreciate all the thought and beauty you put into your posts. You're amazing!!!! 👏🏽 👏🏽 🤩 💖

Hi @rct85 ! I'm so encouraged by your message, thank you so much. 🥰 I love that this richonne reveling rabbit hole could help with the richonne withdrawal. I’m feeling it too and really miss seeing them on screen each week. 🥲 Thank goodness we were spoiled with years of richonne content that I’ve just been playing on a loop in my head. The second I'm finally able, I'm looking forward to going all out and writing about every golden moment from TOWL. The towl thoughts and observations are abundant lol.

And I really like that thought of highlighting the times that Michonne was looking at Rick and thinking this man I'm crushing on and later in love with is so sexy. I can definitely speculate on those moments and I've placed my extra self’s speculation right below. 😊⬇

I focused on Michonne specifically for this one because if I were to make a list of times Rick was looking at Michonne and thinking this woman I'm crushing on/in love with is so sexy it would be wildly long because it's every single moment he and Michonne are on screen together. Like truly from TWD 3.06 at the fence to the TOWL 1.06 finale Rick looks like he's thinking that. 😋 While Michonne can be a little more subtle than Slick Rick, she's still head over heels for her husband and I think I pinpointed some clear moments where she was noting how fine her man is and appreciating that walk. 😏 Thanks again for reading my posts and for this kind message! 💗

Moments Michonne Was Checking Out Her Man’s Walk/Thinking Rick Is Fine 😋

Exhibit A:

It started real early if you ask me. 😌 At this point our Michonne had been abandoned by her only friend, unsuccessfully gaslit by the governor, chased down and shot by Merle, and passed out killing walkers at the prison fence. She’d been put through a whole lot in mind and body…but her eyes clearly still work just fine as she seems to be taking in this handsome stranger in front of her.

And sis is an observant person so I wouldn’t at all be surprised if she had a conscious thought that this man from the prison is attractive, even here in their first exchange. Thinking about how she described Maggie and the Governor based on appearances in this ep, I’d bet that had Michonne had to describe Rick this early, some type of good-looking adjective would‘ve been used.

(*Also the footnote for all of these bits of evidence is that Rick is absolutely captivated by her in each of these moments too 💯)

Exhibit B:

Clear is where that Richonne attraction was loud and on display from both of them. We don’t see Rick walk away in this scene at the end of the ep but uh Michonne does. 😊 And of course she likes what she sees with that lingering look and smile she gives. And all that car key shuffling - it’s giving Rick is pretty eager but maybe she is too 🤭

Exhibit C & D:

I put these two moments side by side because I love how similar they are in the way Rick walks up to her and the way Michonne smiles at him. To think one scene is during their early s4 crush era and the other is during their s7 honeymoon ep, just goes to show these two have been smitten a long long time and always will be. In both moments I know Michonne loves seeing his walk just like Rick loves seeing her smile.

Exhibit E:

As she observes Rick here, I think Michonne has a lot of thoughts going through her head, which naturally are deeper than just checking him out. On a larger level, she’s realizing that Rick has unique qualities that she loves and respects and recognizes in her own self. She saw firsthand the way Rick walks the walk when it comes to protecting his family and she’s fallen in love with him. But I think an appreciation for his literal walk can be included in those thoughts during this scene as she starts to slowly become more cognizant that she sees Rick as a lot more than just a friend.

Exhibit F (Pt. 1 & Pt. 2):

I may have forgot if this was a list of Michonne’s thoughts or mine with exhibit f lol. But I’m just gonna venture to say that she and I shared the same appreciation for Rick’s walk in that barn. It’s Season 5 Rick - of course Michonne was feeling a type of way about him. And she might not have agreed with him punching Aaron but I know she wasn’t mad at that walk.

Exhibit G:

Seeing Rick’s clean-shaven face for the first time was Michonne’s most blatant display of attraction towards him pre-canon and she was definitely noting how fine he is. And from my posts on the scene, it’s no secret how much I love this moment and it’s no secret how much these two were into each other. I also just added a later s5 moment of Rick seeing Michonne in the constable windbreaker for the first time because it gives a similar energy. It’s cute how Rick and Michonne both have such obvious attraction and intrigued reactions to seeing each other in ways they haven’t seen each other before.

(That’s also why I thought it was so funny and doomed that their plan was to pretend like they don’t know each other at the CRM because Richonne hasn’t been able to mask their blazing attraction to each other since season 3)

Exhibit H:

This is such a sweet moment and I always adore seeing the slightly bashful way Michonne can’t help but stare at her man and smile after their first night together. And the way Rick can sense her looking at him and then smiles and reaches for her. It gives me life. This had to make this list because I’m pretty sure “the man I love is so sexy” is one of the direct quotes from Michonne’s mind in this scene.

Exhibit I:

Even when injured Rick’s walk is hot and Michonne knows it. 😋 The scene above and a couple more in this episode were clear signs of Michonne admiring her man inside and out. They were both so cute and couply and in love in this ep and I’ll never get over it.

In The Ones Who Live…

Each of these towl moments deserves dissertations so I’ll wait to elaborate because dissertations are coming later on. But I still had to include them on this list because they’re prime examples of Michonne loving Rick’s walk and/or loving how sexy her husband is - with the last one being the pinnacle 😍

Exhibit J:

Exhibit K:

Exhibit L:

Exhibit M:

Exhibit NOPQRSTUVWXY&Z:

#richonne #richonne family #richonne list #thank you for giving me an opportunity to be extra again and go down memory lane 🙏🏽💖 #the ones who live #towl #rick x michonne

[muzsmoux]

Reviewing tgcf characters because I have thoughts

I finished S2 recently and I need somewhere to put my not exactly hot but like warm (?) takes because it's taking up too much storage space in my brain.

🤍 Xie Lian 🤍

It's a good thing I'm not into guys because if I was I would be on my knees for this man in every sense of that expression and his pet menace to society would mince me up like garlic.

So I'll try to be brief about my overflowing feelings about him. Xie Lian is the best main character I have come across in a WHILE. He's the embodiment of compassion and kindness. And also a cold blooded murderer. A babygirl. A father figure. A terrifying martial god. A silly little guy. A pathological liar. The most genuine man you'll ever meet. He's everything, and Hua Cheng is 100% valid in his obsession. I'm right there with him.

Rating: 10/10

❤️ Hua Cheng ❤️

Idk if we ever figured out who wrote My Immortal but I'm pretty sure we have our culprit.

"Hi my name is Hua Cheng Crimson Rain Sought Flower Red-Robed Ghost King and this is my evil weapon of death E-ming. I've killed soooo many gods with it!! My dark power is I can summon storms of BLOOD and SUFFERING. I have my own scary city of DEMONS and they all love me and think I'm HOT but I only want my BOYFRIEND who's the only REAL GOD so STOP FLAMING HIM YOU POSERS-"

Needless to say I love him. Being the 8 time winner of the Loverboy of the Century Awards with unbeatable records in the yearning olympics is truly a remarkable feat.

Rating: 9/10

(Bonus: E-ming. Cute little guy. Likes his stepdad more than his real dad. Not afraid to show it's feelings even if it makes it look like a muppet, 10/10)

🧡 Feng Xin & Mu Qing 🧡

Tweedle dee and tweedle dum gets a shared rating because they would hate to be grouped together like that and that's funny to me. Their dynamic is great, they're good characters, I wasn't sure which one was which until midway through the second season. But then also I have a pair of 7yo twin cousins who I still can't tell apart despite them not looking even a slight bit similar so that might just be a character flaw on my end. Oops.

Rating: 7/10

🩵Shi Qingxuan🩵

I'm doubling the rating because she is best boy and best girl at the same time. I love that I can use any and all pronouns for him because he's literally a pride parade personified and therefore all of them are correct. You don't get that type of chaotic fun just anywhere.

He is truly living my dream, presenting as whatever gender they want depending on what's more convenient and/or funnier in the moment. Super useful, for things like gathering intel and terrorizing Feng Xin by being a woman.

And I personally think we should crown her the new emperor. She'd look significantly better on that throne, with her Barbie-like radiance and flourishing Kenergy.

Rating: 20/10

🖤 Ming Yi 🖤

Listen, I hate to say it because I like a sunshine x grump moment as much as the next gay but he's just... not giving what he thinks he's giving. Everyone is whispering ominously about him having some dark devastating secret but MY point is no matter how big his boobs are in his female form, Shi Qingxuan could do better. I'm sorry. She really could.

Rating: 4/10

💙 Lang Qianqiu 💙

Just an honest man with good intentions and a sickass fucking sword. He did NOT hesitate to attack the infamous Crimson Rain Sought Flower on SIGHT and I respect a quick decisionmaker, even if it shows some himbo tendencies. He also has the same distinct energy as Fred from Scooby Doo.

Rating: 6/10

💚 Qi Rong 💚

He's got some odd dietary and moral choices going on. Definitely. But he's just such a fun villain!!! Being Xie Lian's nr 1 source of migraines SHOULD make me like him less but I'm sorry, every time he was on screen I was LIVING. He would do numbers on reality TV. Someone put this guy on Kitchen Nightmares, I need to see him 1v1 Gordon Ramsay.

Rating: 7/10

🌚 Jun Wu 🌚

He has his emperor status & DILF card going for him but something about this man just ain't right. If he came to a party I was attending I would cover my drink is all I'm saying.

Rating: 2/10

🔥Pei Ming🔥

I don't know much about him besides he had that one shady empolyee or whatever (could not hear the plot over the deafening sound of Hua Cheng's yearning) but I'm partial to a good manwhore character. The thought of people praying to him like "Hugh Mungus, who art in heaven-" really tickles me.

I know he's probably straight but I headcanon him as at the very least bi-curious because you can't be that hot with that much game and not use it for evil. (That evil being causing large scale gay awakenings among his soldiers.)

Rating: 7/10

❓Pei Xiu❓

Unreliable, unimportant, unattractive, unemployed.

I remember not a singular thing about him besides fucking up Xie Lian's daughter's life and also being on my last nerve from the jump. If you're going to be evil at like least be memorable about it, you know? You can't be a bad person and a bad character at the same time. Pick a struggle.

Rating: 1/10

📚 Ling Wen 📚

I heard she committed some war crimes but honestly if I had to do an entire realm's tax returns by myself AND teach Pei Ming how to read (I refuse to believe that man is literate, just look at him) I would want to rage on occasion too. I hope she has a hot wife waiting for her at home to give her massages after carrying the whole system on her back all day. It's what she deserves.

Rating: 8/10

Thank you for reading!! Opinions might change once I read the books but as of now this is it. Remembering everyone's names has been a journey and a half so this post is sponsored by @kirstenly 's character cheat sheet go look at it! and everything else too!!!

#heaven official's blessing #tian guan ci fu #tgcf #xie lian #hua cheng #feng xin #mu qing #shi qingxuan #ming yi #lang qianqiu #qi rong #jun wu #pei ming #pei xiu #ling wen #sorry for the long post #im just obsessed

[astoryisaloveaffair]

Fix You - Chapter 16 - Genesis

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Fem!Reader

Fic Masterlist

Read on A03

Spotify Playlist

»»———————►

Chapter Summary: 🤷‍♀️

Word Count: 4K

Rating: Explicit

Chapter Warnings: cussing, graphic violence, mentions of sex. I'm not giving more warnings than that, sorry.

A/N: Hey all. First I want to say I'm sorry. I literally had no time or motivation to write this. I'm gonna be honest, this is a really tough chapter, and it was hard to get in this headspace. Suffering a recent heartbreak, things in this chapter are things I have thought also, and so it was really hard for me to voluntarily want to address that. I also started working in veterinary medicine, i do not have the spare time that I used to. We also recently adopted a puppy who we named Bucky! And if you read my earlier posts, you know that I was SA'd last January. All that to say, sorry I couldn't do this faster.

Also want to wish a happy birthday to @musings-of-a-rose, my beloved, my bestie, and my constant support. This is for you. Sorry it's not a happier chapter....

* If a character is speaking fully in Spanish, I will put “[ ]” around the dialogue. I speak pretty decent Spanish but not good enough for this

Suggested Songs: "Exile" Taylor Swift feat. Bon Iver, "I Love You" Billie Eilish, "Vampire" and "Logical" by Olivia Rodrigo, "The Night We Met" by Lord Huron and Phoebe Bridgers, "Genesis" by Grimes

You didn’t even flinch at the landing, which was rough, so that’s saying a lot. When the janky cargo door (which looked like at any time during the flight would be ripped right off) opens, you barely even lift your eyes from the floor. You felt heavy and hollow, somewhere suspended in between shock and just not giving a fuck anymore. The only thing you could still fell was the pinching in your heart. It was still broken.

At some point during the journey, the co-pilot had taken pity on you and untied your arms from behind your back and bound them in front of you instead. You hadn’t struggled. There was no point. Where would you go? Jump in the ocean? You weren’t that great of a swimmer and you loved sharks and everything but the open ocean is not where you are supposed to be.

You have no sense of space and time, so you have no actual clue where you are other than not the mainland. You’re dehydrated as fuck, groggy, your vision’s blurry and you’d figured out the sticky moisture on your face was your own blood. 

Because when you had suddenly blacked out it was because they’d hit you, and had absolutely no hesitation doing so. They did not care about you, they did not see you as a human being, they didn’t even bother strapping you into a seat so you had been sliding around the cargo bay the entire flight, bumping into everything. You were in deep danger, any hope that you would have some ransom protection had pretty much disintegrated. You had hoped that the boys wouldn’t come for you at first. Then you had hoped that they would, because if you’re ransom, even if at the very least you’d be alive until then, right? But “alive” doesn’t mean unharmed.

A shadow looms over you and it finally makes you look up, squinting to adjust your eyes to something so close, as well as the brightness of the sun. It feels like it takes you 10 whole minutes to process that you were being spoken to in English.

“Eh!” The man leaning over you snips, and when you simply blink in confusion and don’t answer, he slaps you lightly on both cheeks. You’re stunned enough to finally look at him, his oval face, beady eyes and unique sideburns seeming so familiar to you but quite frankly you wouldn’t trust yourself with recognizing even your dad at the moment, so you push that thought aside.

He kneels down in front of you. “You listen to me. We don’t want you. We want the money. This means if you don’t fucking piss me off, I might be nice and not kill you, you understand? Be a smart little girl, eh?.”

You nod, you probably should be feeling some sort of panic setting in but you don’t. Whatever. Who even cares anymore.

He takes your silence as submission. “Bueno.” He whispers, leaning down and grabbing you by the arm, lifting you until you are back on your feet. He tilts his head and steps to the side, revealing 5 additional men with AKs pointed straight at you. From behind, you feel the sharp tip of another poking your back, urging you forward and down the precarious ramp. The pilots.

You didn’t trust that they wouldn’t hurt you, but you knew you had no other choice. Trying to fight was asking for it, and once you step out of the hold and realize you were in the fucking jungle, there would be no sensical place to go even if you did get away.

You step out of the plane onto a rickety steel ramp that bounces as the footpad of your sandals touches it and shuffle slowly down it. You feel suffocated sandwiched between four men, your hands chafe where they are tied and you have been in the same positions for so long your whole body is sore. Every touch and movement hurt.

You stumble as the ramp ends but one of the men grabs your arm and yanks you so you don’t fall. It wasn’t kindness. It was a way to hurt you that he could get away with. The tiny dirt landing strip is almost canopied completely by the jungle trees, leaving large patches here and there where the plane flew through, not noticeable from far above. It looks like you’re walking to nothing, just a dirt road that ends right into the thick middle of the jungle, but you don’t stop at the edge. You push through.

It’s hot as shit and you felt sweat buildup in every crevice of your body, your thighs are rubbing raw from your asinine decision to wear short shorts to the fair, and you could feel a heat rash growing under your tits that you couldn’t even scratch because your hands are bound.

You walk for forever. You walk until the friction rash on your inner thighs turn to lesions. You haven't drank water in almost 48 hours and it feels like 150 degrees out, with full humidity. You’ve had to stop twice already to vomit from heat exhaustion and you still occasionally gag even though there’s nothing in your stomach to come up anymore. All the years that you did not appeal to insects are making up for it now, they’re all over you and you can’t walk 3 steps without one getting in your eye.  The jungle gets tighter and you can’t breathe because it’s pushing in on you almost as tight as the hands on your shoulders pushing you forward..

You start crying. At least, that is what you tell yourself as you whimper and sob as quietly as you can. You know you’re strong, but this is just beyond reason that any normal person could take. And when you think about how this is probably what life was all the time in Delta for the boys, you cry even harder because you feel guilty, that you have no right to complain.

Finally, after what feels like forever, the tightness of the jungle seems to loosen. More open. You notice some of the trees look more oddly arranged than others. As you get closer you realize they aren’t trees at all, but tents and dilapidated buildings built into the shadows of the trees.  The huge roots and overhanging canopy of the jungle transformed a bustling camp into what looks like a little village. At the entrance, a line of guards in jungle fatigues that were impossible to detect until you got right up to them. You hear someone speak above you, alerting you to a man up in the trees on a platform tucked between the branches. There was another in the tree on the opposite side. He calls to the man with the sideburns, saying something in Spanish you can’t interpret fast enough, but it’s jovial and they laugh, and it makes you feel like you’re going to go mentally insane. 

It’s like it’s not even serious to them. And it’s so serious to you.

You are pushed through the camp quickly, but not quick enough that you don’t see the insane amount of cocaine packages piled up in the makeshift buildings, sheds, and tents toward the back. Men were milling about checking them, moving them and glaring at you as you walked past.

You continue past the main camp, crossing over a bustling creek whose bridge was literally just planks of wood, but you noticed there were tire marks across them so you felt at least safe it could handle a car’s weight. Across the creek, an old stonework manor stood. You can tell at one time it must have been glorious, but the white stone-worked walls were dirty and crumbling in many places, the fountains out front had dried crusty palm fronds and dirt in them and looked like they hadn’t sprayed water since the 1980s.

It was still oddly beautiful. You thought about how this house came to be, what it might have looked like when it had been first built. A beautiful Caribbean sea mansion. A jungle that hadn’t closed in on it yet. Fountains spraying and colorful birds resting on the rooftops. But then you  realize that this place has probably always been used for what it is now. Someone like Carl Lehder probably lived here and ran an entire cartel within this very jungle. Maybe it was the same one, just run by someone else.

There was a shabbily made shack to the left of the manor with padlocks, piles of debris piled next to the door. You assume that’s where you would be taken, but you were instead led up the stairs to the manor proper. And as your eyes focus in on the ground while you were being guided to the mansion instead, you realize the heap of matter by the shack that you thought was some dying plantation was actually a crumpled human body. A boy looking not much older than 17, shot execution style in the head and left to rot.

Then smell hits you, your knees buckle and you vomit on the stonework stairs, a scream of shock and realization pierces the jungle, making the nearby tropical birds explode from the treetops. When the sicarios pick you up and carry you through the mansion door, you’re still screaming.

Eventually whoever was carrying you became fed up, and simply dropped you at the bottom of the stairs and dragged you up backwards by the armpits instead. You didn’t even feel the step edges hitting the small of your back all the way up, but you would later. 

You were tossed stricken and shivering on a disgusting, top-sheeted mattress on the floor in the corner of a room, your feet still bound together and your rope-bound hands looped through a radiator that was long enough only for you to lie down or shuffle over to a bucket for your business. Everything stank and you still had vomit on your chin so you curled up in a ball and slammed your eyes closed, hoping that in time the voices and smells and fear would give way to just simple numbness. You didn’t hear a female voice speaking to you for several seconds.

Your eyes snap open, skin pulled taut from dried unwiped tears,and you jolt upright to look in the direction of the voice. A woman who wasn’t even tied up was propped up against the adjoining wall, and as you take in her condition you could understand why they hadn’t even bothered. She wouldn’t have been able to run.

Her legs look..wrong, splaying at angles that shouldn’t be possible. They look like they could be broken, but you can’t tell for sure because she was wearing jeans that cover up most of her skin. The jeans were ripped in some places and stained with dark blood spots, the color turning brighter wherever her skin shows through the tears in the fabric. She’s missing several fingers on her left hand that had been burnt at the ends to cauterize, and her face was black and blue, swollen and smeared with more blood that seemed to be coming from her scalp somewhere. Her lips are pale and cracking and her eyes are glazed over and barely open. When she speaks, she already sounds like she is dead. 

She swallows and winces slightly in pain, then licks her cracked pale lips.“Is…my…her–my brother. Did you see him? Out there?” 

Your face scrunches in confusion, which actually hurts a little and you’re not sure from what specifically. Perhaps you look just as bad as the other girl. “Your–I—I don’t understand.”

She’s too exhausted to even be annoyed with you. “My brother. They took him from me days ago. They do not talk to me anymore. They don’t—need me anymore.” A single tear falls down her swollen cheek and you suddenly feel so much connection with this woman and how  incredibly fucking strong she is. Her eyes roll over to you, meeting yours for the first time. There are burst blood vessels in them. 

“I think that they killed him.”

Your lips part and you utter a shuddering breath as you connect the dots. There’s no point in sugar-coating it. You nod slowly. “I think so. But it’s not…recent.” You look away as her eyes slowly close, the additional tears she was holding back finally spilling over and cascading down her cheeks. 

“Bueno.” She says. “Then at least he is not suffering like me.” 

You both fall quiet and you look over her again. Her pants aren’t completely done up and her t shirt is ripped at the neckline, exposing a gashed shoulder. Almost like…

You start crying again, and you feel even worse about it this time because you have in front of you a woman who has been through much worse and is somehow NOT crying. You curl tighter into yourself to try and hide. 

But she simply asks. “Who are you?”

You swallow, raising your head up off your arms, quickly wiping the access tears off on your sleeve. It’s incredible how adrenaline and fear can sometimes make you the most clear-headed you’ve ever been. Your thoughts are swirling but you knew one thing for damn sure, if they didn’t know your name yet, you weren’t going to say it now. 

If I look forward I am lost. Focus on right now. Nothing else. It’s my best chance.

You know enough about trauma that compartmentalizing this moment is your best chance. You can’t think what will happen if you don’t escape, if you aren’t found, if they never come for you. You need to stay focused. You need to keep hope alive. You need to stay coherent, because if a chance pops up, you need to be able to think quickly.

“I’m no one.” You mumble. “Just happened to be dating the wrong person.”

She sniffs and looks away, but it’s muffled because her nose sounds congested. You don’t miss her tone though. “Mmmm. His new one then.”

You blink. “What?”

Her glazed over, discolored eyes snap back to yours. “Pope.” She spits. “Your man. Santia—”

“NO!” You cut her off with a shout, you know there is a guy who is in the area and you still don’t know how much these men do or do not know. “Don’t. Don’t give them names if they don’t already know it.”

“I don’t give a shit about Agent Garcia, or his friends, or anyone else, it’s their fault I am here and it’s their fault my brother is dead and..” She finally, finally starts to cry. “I told him I didn’t want to do it. They said they would let us go if we gave them what they wanted.”

“It was you.” You exhale with a shuddering breath. “They found us cause of you. You told them.” You shake your head, and for some reason you feel betrayed by this woman even though you’ve never met her.  “How could you?” 

“Because all I care about is my brother, do you understand?! I wish I’d never met him, Garcia, we would have just snuck away and no one would never seen us, but no, instead we listened to him and helped them steal from fucking Lorea, and now they found us and I knew they would, and YES, I gave them EVERYTHING because they said they’d let us go so long as they found you and–”

“Eh!” A voice trails in with a watchman you knew was hanging out somewhere in the hallway beyond. He slips through the doorway, a smaller man you were not expecting from that voice, and leans against the deteriorating door frame. He crosses his arms and his legs and it makes the handgun on his hip jut out prominently from his skinny hips. “No talking to each other.” His voice is silky and the words all slide together so it sounds like ‘no talkintoeeachother.’

You shrink back into the dirty wall behind you as your associate spits a bloody phlegm ball in the man’s direction. “FUCK you!” She snarls, a tirade of cuss words in Spanish flying from her lips. 

A loud pop almost bursts your eardrums and your heart and you exclaim in terror as your associate is shot point blank in the head, her back slumping against the wall and her head hitting with a bang, pieces of blood and brain tissue spraying over the back wall with pieces flying in your direction.  

The man remains completely motionless with his arms still raised before huffing a laugh to himself, putting the gun back on his hip, and looking at you with the such an unaffected gaze it leaves you feeling dizzy and you scream and scream and scream yourself hoarse, crumpling onto your mattress in a terrified heap, arms over your head, sobbing hysterically.

A gentle but firm palm wraps around your forearm, yanking you back up to a seated position. You look away, but the man’s other hand takes you gently by the jaw and makes you look at him. And just behind him, the woman slumped in a pool of blood and brain matter. You try to wriggle out of his grip but he tightens ever so slightly, and you can’t help but notice how different it is when Frankie would grab you like that versus this man. Frankie held you the same, sometimes harder, but you had trusted his domination and his care of you and because of that, it made it arousing. That same motion with this man has you more scared than you ever have been in your life. 

“Bebita.” He coos, thumb lightly caressing your jaw. He wipes at a small speck of blood you don’t know is even there. You can feel yourself shaking and breathing so fast you can see his half waxed back tousled locks that hang past his temples are blowing in its breeze. You can’t answer him. “Look at me.”

You do. His eyes are a dark, almost black chocolate brown, shape mismatched, a scruffy beard and goatee and thin lips. In another world you would find him devastatingly attractive and the fact that you do makes you feel absolutely violated and disgusted with yourself. 

“Do not cry.” He continues. “You have no reason to if you behave, si? You be good and you listen and I will keep you safe you understand? Well, at least for now.” He shifts closer to you, you can smell his breath. It smells like orange and cloves. “There are a lot of men here Bebita. I am sure you understand what this means, si? Answer me.”

“Yes.” A final fat tear spills from one of your eyes, and it stings as it mixes with your sweat and the raw skin around your eyes. 

He juts his head in the other woman’s direction. “This one, she fight the whole time. I like a easy job. Make my job easy, I make sure you always deal with me. Do not make me call in the other guys, they are not as nice. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” He releases your chin and you scoot back quickly as he saunters over to the other woman’s bloody body, grabs it by the arm, and casually drags her as dismissively as possible out the door and out of your sight, leaving a bloody trail behind.

At first you just sit there in a slump staring at the opposite wall,, you don’t know for how long. Probably hours. Maybe days. The man, whose name you figured out from when he spoke to someone else in the hall, is Angel. Sometimes he would sit up and watch you, as if figuring you out, your body and the way you shift and switch positions when you are uncomfortable, what it looked like when you were crying and trying to keep quiet and unnoticed. But most of the time he ignored you. Occasionally others would come into the room and either speak to him or approach you, but upon noticing Angel watching them they would hiss or spit a curse and slink off.

The room reminded you of those old houses from the 70s that had those drafty unfinished basements that were simply concrete floors, painted stucco or white brick. To the sicarios, it served as an overflow area, there was a rotting desk along the side wall with a metal folding chair and piles of scattered papers and random household tools on them. Against the opposite side wall was a pretty nice tv, considering, which was always playing soccer. Angel seemed to make that his home base, his lithe frame sprawled across a grandma-fabric sofa, head resting on one of the puffy arm rests. He binge-smoked cigarettes and his right hand was always stretched over his head resting against his forehead in the direction of to an end table with an massive overflowing porcelain ashtray on it. You didn’t used to mind the smell of cigarettes too much but now it makes you feel sick.

You’re ashamed of how little you actually think about your current situation and like the hopeless romantic idiot you are, mostly all you can think about is Frankie. The things he said–you knew he said mean things when he was mad, or things he didn’t mean, but isn’t there always some truth to things that are said in the heat of the moment? That was enough for you to silently spiral. You thought about every memory you had of him and how it could be viewed through the lens that Frankie just wanted to fuck you. Your self confidence was low enough it was believable, and your mind races through every instance of an older man being in a relationship with someone much younger and how of course it was predatory, and how could you not see it, that you didn’t have anything in common? It’s a tale as old as time. He just wanted to fuck you, he wanted to fuck you and dominate you, his dark desires seducing you into feeling so wanted you can’t believe you thought he loved you and didn’t see right through it. 

And his friends, well, they were all in on it weren’t they, because why would they want to hang out with someone like you either? Why would men such as that actually want to be friends with you when you have never experienced half of what they have.

Fuck him. Fuck him and his lying ass, he was a fucking loser addict and you’re pissed at yourself for even considering him. Like how lonely were you?? To choose an old man with a kid who served in an institution that represented everything you hated about this country? To be so easily blinded by pretty words and love bombs to immediately take your clothes off. Because how, if he actually loved you or even like you, could he possibly have lied about something so big?! Or bought you something nice with all that fucking drug money he stole. Not that you’d want it or expected it, but why wouldn’t you want to treat someone you love as much as he claimed to? 

How could he sit there and make up what happened to Tom like that, when you were being so coddling and trying to be a caring ear. And Benny…Pope...if they were your friends they should have told you, that’s what real friends do…

But they weren’t your friends. They were never your friends. 

And if you went the other way, and considered that it was all true, that he did love you, that they were all your friends, and that he lied to you and threw stones to hurt you and push you away, how was that any better? You couldn't even think about a future not being with him, but obviously he could. He could watch you cry and question him and not even look at you, completely ignore you, then not even think about you again. No texts, no calls. No “I’m sorry, please come back.” Silence. 

How could it be so easy for him? How can he just go about his life like you never happened? Why did you still care?

Why did you still want him? 

Why did you still love him so so much. Part of you wishes they’d get on with it and just kill you. At least then you wouldn’t have to feel this excruciating pain. You wouldn’t have to see him show up to rescue you because he has to, to have to see his fucking face and every line, crinkle, scar, the bald patch in his beard and the tousled little curls that pop out of his hat…only for him to save you and then leave again, or die and then you have the guilt of killing a man who no longer loved you.

Yea. You think you’d rather die.

You feel like you’re going to throw up again. You’d let him force his cock in your mouth as far as it could go, let him tie you up and fuck you hard enough to leave bruises you had thought of as a badge of honor. You’d let him cum on your face. You’d let him fucking cum inside you! He’d gaslit you so you actually wanted him to tie you up with zip ties—-

Your heart almost stops. You can picture how his face looked exactly when he said it.

Sometimes rope can give over time.

That’s why we always used zip ties.

You look down at your bound hands.

They’re bound with rope.

#fix you fic #triple frontier fanfic #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie catfish morales x you #frankie catfish morales x reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic

[wen-kexing-apologist]

Unknown, Ep 11: To Grow Taller

Alright y’all, I just want to say that I am not super thrilled with how Episode 11 went. I felt like they completely obliterated the emotional build up to the change over after they did such a great job of navigating it in Episode 10. 

So as much as there were some lovely images of hands, I’m not that interested in writing about it. So it is time, it is time to do the thing I should have done long ago. 

It is time to write about Lili and San Pang. 

Hands down my favorite part of this episode (and probably one of my favorite scenes of the series) was seeing the two of them interact, of seeing more of Lili’s inner workings, of understanding that she knows more than she lets on. I loved Yuan telling Qian that Lili is smart, and I loved the proud little smile Qian had when he heard that. 

The most important scene in this episode, to me, starts with the height wall. That thing has been causing me psychic damage since episode one. It pans down to Lili. I like how long the camera lingers on her eyes. Lili has seen everything that has happened in their lives and she’s been spared from a lot of the violence, but that doesn’t mean she hasn’t beared witness to it. 

I was really struck by her words to San Pang: 

“When we were little, Qian was always there to help us with everything we did. He would measure our height every year. I always wondered when I could grow taller than him. Then I could protect him.” 

I know we have seen Lili constantly take a back seat in this story. We have seen her even acknowledge Qian’s focus on Yuan multiple times throughout the show. We don’t see her doing as much for Qian as Yuan does. She doesn’t know how to wrap up leftovers, she’s not a great cook, she doesn’t try to pay the household bills. But that’s because she loves Qian like a sister does, she’s got a secure position in the household, she’s not trying to be Qian’s partner, and it is a testament to Qian’s love for Lili that she does not know how to do some of the basic life things, because it means that she’s been so well taken care of she hasn’t been forced to learn.

There are all these little elements scattered across the series that show Qian’s love for Lili. The picture on his desk at home is of him, Yuan, and Lili at Qian’s graduation. He has the magazine she’s featured in on display. He immediately softens on his anger towards her relationship with San Pang when she asks him to go on a family vacation. 

She has seen how much Qian has suffered, and she loves Qian enough to want to shield him from any more harm. 

And San Pang is so lovely in this scene, with his head resting on the stair railing, a sleepy look of love on his face as he stares at Lili. I love the way San Pang smiles to himself when she tells him this. Because Qian is family to San Pang and San Pang is family to Qian. San Pang loves Qian and wants what is best for him always. And I do think there is a difference there between the soft, dreamy, comfortable expression he has when looking at the woman he loves, and the small smile that lights up his eyes at the thought of Lili loving her brother enough to want to protect him.

Lili’s face is serious, and she does not always look in San Pang’s direction when she talks:  

“Even though he is a few years older than us, his hands are always covered in scars and calluses.” Lili tells the ground. It’s interesting to me to see when she is comfortable enough reviving a memory to look San Pang in the eyes because she doesn’t do so until partway through her hand cream story:

“One year, I took the hand cream my classmates gave me” she looks at San Pang “and rubbed it on his hands at midnight.”

The camera cuts to San Pang who is listening to Lili absolutely enraptured by her. And I do have to commend the show for how they have navigated Lili and San Pang’s relationship change. In very few frames, with little fanfare or flare they have made San Pang and Lili’s relationship clear, understandable, and believable. We’ve had like, two minutes of them together up through now, and all I need to believe these two will be together forever is all in the way that San Pang looks at Lili. That man is not only head over heels in love with Xiao Bao, he’s ass over tea kettle in love with her as well. 

“He scolded me for it. Do you know why?”

“I do.” San Pang says with a smile. And I love that because we remember that San Pang and Qian have grown up together. San Pang has been helping take care of Qian and the rest of the family for years. You know in the way that San Pang smiles that he is remembering Qian as a young man complaining about Lili lotioning his hands in the middle of the night. Hell, I can picture Qian’s rant right now. “Because it smelled like roses.”

Lili laughs and covers her face in embarrassment. “That’s right.”  

But like a lot of scenes in this show, the transition from lighthearted to more serious changes on a dime. Lili’s face slips back in to a frown as she turns over a thought. “Nobody cares about Qian.”

And this is what it feels like sometimes, with how stubborn Qian is, with how much weight he wants to carry for himself, with how much debt he owes to the likes of Le, Xiong, and San Pang. But they don’t expect repayment, they did this because they care about Qian. San Pang has helped Qian weather many many storms. He has pushed when Qian needed pushing, he has pulled when Qian needed to be held back. 

“Yes, they do. We all love your brother.” 

Qian has so much love in his life, if only he stopped long enough to see it. If only he let go long enough to feel it. I was not thrilled with how they fumbled so much of the emotional weight of Qian and Yuan getting together in this episode, but I am glad the show took time to highlight how much they all love Qian and to show the audience that they want to protect Qian just as much as Qian wants to protect the rest of them. 

All this to say San Pang and Lili work incredibly well together as a couple, and I’m so happy that we got to have this little moment between them, both to breathe a bit more life in to their relationship and to remind us all that Yuan is right. Lili is not as naive as she seems.

__

All gifs by the lovely, wonderful, marvelous @wanderlust-in-my-soul. THANK YOU SO MUCH YOU ARE THE BEST <3

#this scene is so important to me #I have been severely neglecting talking about Lili and San Pang and that sin ends today #unknown #unknown the series #unknown the series ep 11 #unknown the series analysis #unknown the series meta #san pang #wei lili #xiao bao #san pang x wei lili #she loves her brother so much #she sees what he has done for her and for their family #she hoped to one day be big and strong enough to protect him #i was so close to crying about it y'all

[dribs-and-drabbles]

An alternative review of GMMTV Live 2024 part 2

A list of the shared items of clothing that appeared in the trailers, ranked according to the amount I squealed when I spotted it.

6. getricheasy sports shirt

The first of four from Sweet Tooth, Good Dentist, this had its first appearance in Only Friends and was used in the promotional material for The Outing but I didn't spot it in the show, so I'm happy to see it again. Who knows if it will be used in the actual show...that goes for any of these items incidentally.

5. Blue with yellow detail knitted vest

I've had a screenshot of this vest worn by Thor since I saw it as Wednesday Club aired. I swear I've seen it somewhere else before but can't remember. But hence why it immediately jumped out to me in Perfect 10 Liners.

4. Green sports jacket

On to the second of the four from Sweet Tooth, Good Dentist, and oh to be Poon and be able to wear the jacket that our King and Queen have worn -> first by Namtan in UMG and then Mix in his glorious cameo at the end of Only Friends. I predict we'll see this again a few more times.

3. Blue with brown edging shirt

I was happy to see this one, another in Sweet Tooth, Good Dentist, because I had kept it in my mind since seeing it in Only Friends - as another potential that might get worn again. It's subtle yet quite distinct...and very much in a similar vibe as many other shirts worn by Force (and shared with Sea, Ngern, and New amongst others).

2. Red, blue, and green striped t-shirt

I'm impressed with my brain for spotting this one, the last from Sweet Tooth, Good Dentist, because at first it just felt familiar, and I immediately thought of UMG but I thought it might just be because it's similar to a few stripy colour shirts that Nanon wore. But I had a look through my screenshots of the series and eventually found it all the way at the end...

1. Ink's mustard knitted vest!

This one I could not believe. Never in my wildest dreams did I think we would see this iconic vest from Bad Buddy again. But here we are, on Mix no less in Ossan's Love. It's not something you'd expect to see on Mix...but then again I thought the costuming of the trailer looked a lot more 'quirky' than usual and very much fitting the kooky/slapstick vibe of the series. But honestly, this made my day.

#INK'S VEST!! #to be honest I was a little disappointed there weren't more clothes from the communal wardrobe #but I'm still happy to see all these being used #we'll see which ones make it to the actual filming #gmmtv 2024 #sweet tooth good dentist #perfect 10 liners #ossans love thailand #only friends the series #ofts #the outing #wednesday club #UMG #unidentified mysterious girlfriend #bad buddy #bad buddy series #I suppose I should look into who does the clothes/styling for these shows #because it might be the same person...which would therefore make sense that the clothes get used again #or it could be that there is just one central 'store' where all the designers dip into to get some items #who knows... #the thai communal wardrobe

[an0ther1]

Untitled pt.2

Leah x OC

A/N: A little more in my current project. I’m still getting a feel for my characters. Feedback/thoughts welcome.

“What are we at, one more week?” Kim adjusted the weight on the bench press bar.

“Abouts yeah. I make it to the end of the week without any pain and things feel normal, I’ll get to run on the grass with everyone next.”

Kim laid down on the bench. “Well I’m sure you know what I’m going to say, but I’m going to say it anyway. Don’t do anything stupid and listen to your body. If something is off, waiting an extra day or 2 isn’t going to kill you.” She pushed the bar up off the rack. “Trust me.” She grunted as she lowered the bar to her chest.

“I hear you. And I won’t.”

“Hey Caps.” Beth came bouncing to the end of the bench. “Le, what time do we have the venue for Saturday?”

“Umm, 9 until whenever really. Though I told ‘em it would probably wrap up around 5. 6 hours for a baby shower seemed like more than enough.” Leah answered as she spotted Kim.

“Probably right on that. So we have 2 hours to decorate? That should be plenty. I think Steph has the catering scheduled for between 10 and 11.” Beth twisted her lips as she tried to remember.

“What did I do?”

“Catering. What time is that showing up?”

“Ah, yeah. 10:30 bouts. I’ll call and confirm on Thursday though.”

Kim put the bar back on the rack and sat up. “If we can get in at 9, I’ll schedule the cake and sweets to come around 10.”

“So we just need all the girls to show up at 9 to set up?” Leah switched with Kim after removing a few pounds from either end of the bar.

“Yeah, that should be about it. Caitlin promised that she kept a check on Katie and the games, but Stina is going to claim that she will be the one running the games so she can see what she came up with.”

“Good idea Meado. When Katie called dibs on games and said she was going to use a few “McCabe family classics” I was a bit worried about what those would entail. You really never know what you might get with an Irish family that large.” Kim helped Leah lift the bar to start her set.

“I thought most of Katie’s siblings were younger than her?” Steph asked.

“Ask her to name all her cousins some time.” Lotte interjected as she joined the group. “We talking about Erin’s baby shower?” The group nodded. “You know she’s right there.” Lotte pointed across the room to Erin, their social media content creator, who was sitting in a chair with a laptop balanced on a very round belly. “I thought this was supposed to be a surprise.”

“She has her headphones in editing. She can’t hear anything.” Beth shrugged. “You have everything worked out with Dylan?”

“Yeah. Him and Tao have some plan that Dylan swears Erin will fall for. They’re going to tell her I have a children’s event to attend so I can help set up.”

“Great. And Viv has been talking to Erin’s family, she just needs to confirm the time with them.” Beth added.

“What about Dylan’s family?” Leah said as she finished her set in the bench press. “I know they're American, but is Dylan’s parents planning on being here when Gemma is born? They might be in by then.”

Lotte shook her head. “Dylan told me and Tao he doesn’t talk to anyone in his family besides his cousin Rose.”

“Wait, isn’t that the middle name they’re giving Gemma?” Steph asked.

“Yeah. Rose is the cousin he grew up with. Dylan talks about her like a sister. I think she’s a year or two older. But she’ll be there. So he’ll at least have some family.” Lotte finished.

“Sounds like this is going to be a fantastic party for our little Gooner and her mum.” Kim looked around the group. “But now, finish up your reps. We’re on the pitch in 30.”

Everyone saluted their captain before dispersing.

**************************

The week for the most part had gone smoothly. The team didn’t have their first January game for another 10 days. But Leah was finally going to be able to join team trainings next week, after almost 9 months, and the anticipation was wearing her thin. Several times she was asked if she was excited, or nervous, and repeatedly reminded that the wait was almost over. Almost. She was sure Saturday was going to be full of the same, though the full Arsenal staff and then some would be at Erin’s baby shower, so Leah would hear it ten fold. She needed a break. Which is how she found herself out to dinner on a Friday night, alone, sitting at the end of the bar top of the restaurant she had come to the previous week. She had come in a little earlier this time though, hoping it would be less crowded before the dinner rush, and she had been right, allowing her to get the same seat at the end with her back to everyone else. Tonight she would be any other diner. Not soon to return from injury, Leah Williamson.

Leah greeted Colin as she took her seat, ordering a glass of Chardonnay. The bar keep was placing the glass in front of Leah with a menu before she had even gotten comfortable.

“Would you like the chicken again?” The ginger asked.

“Might do an app first. Take my time and do some reading on my phone if it’s no bother.” Leah smiled.

“Not at all. I’d say the hummus is great. That and the pitas are made in house.”

“Yeah? Alright. I’ll start with that, thanks.” Leah pushed the menu back towards Colin. “And I’ll order the chicken a little later.”

Colin reached for the menu. “I’ll have that right out.”

Leah leaned back in her chair and pulled up the book she was reading on her phone. Picking the wine glass up off the bar, she took a small sip and relaxed. Colin placed a plate in front of her a short time later and for the next 20 minutes or so, she enjoyed her wine and appetizer completely uninterrupted while she read. The noise in the restaurant slowly rose as the main dining area filled and the seats at the bar top were taken one by one. Colin had just refilled her wine and was putting in her dinner order when someone finally claimed the last seat next to her.

“Is this seat taken, miss?”

Leah had heard that voice before. She lowered her phone. “No it’s not. By all means.” She smiled at the new guest. “Hello again RJ.”

“Miss Williamson.” RJ smiled softly as they pulled out the chair before placing their coat over the back. “Nice seeing you here again.”

“Will you be watching another football match?” Leah asked as she watched RJ prop their phone up on top of the bar.

“I was planning on finally watching Sinclair’s last international match. Figured if I did it in public I wouldn’t cry.” RJ waved at Colin and gave him a thumbs up. Clearly not needing words to order.

“Are you Canadian?”

RJ chuckled and shook their head slightly. “No. But as a kid I just kind of decided she was my favorite player and that was that. Figured after a month I should finally just bite the bullet and watch the damn game.”

“Mmmm, yeah, retirement games are hard to watch. She’s still playing one more year for the Thorns though, yeah?” Leah finished the last of her wine and caught Colin’s eye, signally for another glass.

“She is. But that doesn’t make watching this any easier.” RJ picked up their phone and waved it before unlocking it. Leah couldn’t help but notice that their background looked like an abstract black and white print of some sort. Once RJ had the game queued up they set it back on the bar top. “You’re welcome to watch. But I won’t bother you if you wish to continue what you were doing.” They hit the play button on the screen.

“Thank you. I think I might try to finish this chapter of the book I was reading.” Leah turned back to her phone as Colin placed RJ’s drink down and refilled Leah’s wine glass. The pair sat in companionable silence as Leah continued reading.

“Who do you think is going to take the armband in the future?” Leah broke the silence after putting her phone down. “Sinc has been captain far longer than I can remember.”

“Fleming.” JR’s said with a seconds hesitation.

“Seriously? She’s so young?”

RJ turned in their chair and looked Leah straight in the eye. “Really?” They paused for a moment. “You, the youngest captain in England history, is going to say that Jessie Fleming, who is 25, is too young.”

“Oh. Yeah I see your point.”

“Aside from her age.” RJ turned back. “She’s been a regular fixture on the national team for about 9 years. When Sinc and Schmidt stepped off this field she was the 4th longest tenured player on the team.” RJ took a sip of their drink.

“You aren’t just a casual fan, are you?

RJ side-eyed Leah. “What makes you say that?”

“A casual fan generally doesn’t know those types of statistics for a player who don’t play for their team”

“How do you know she doesn’t play for “my team”?” RJ used air quotes. “She may not play for the US, but.”

“Ew. You’re a Chelsea fan?” Leah dramatically recoiled further from RJ who just laughed.

“No.” RJ smiled. A full bright, cheerful smile. “I am a fan of the players individually, especially Fishel and Macario. But not the team as a whole.”

“Do you even have a WSL team?” Leah raised an eyebrow.

“I do.” RJ smirked. “And don’t worry. They wear the right shade of red.” They leaned back in their seat. “Can I ask you something? None football related and not terribly personal.” They rushed out the last bit. “And you obviously don’t have to answer.”

“Well with those conditions, sure.”

RJ tilted their head. “If you hadn’t become a pro footballer, what would you have chosen to do?”

“Probably an accountant or something like that. I’m pretty good with numbers and enjoy that there is always an answer to any problem.”

“Figures.”

“What’s that s’pose to me?” Leah asked, offended by the assumption, regardless of what it was.

“You play football like a mathematician, calculated.”

“Oh.” Leah adjusted in her seat, sitting up a bit straighter. “Thank you.”

RJ just hummed in response.

“What about you? You obviously know what I do and now what I would do.” Leah relaxed a bit in her chair. “Colin said you did something in media, I think.”

RJ glanced down the bar at the mentioned bartender. “Digital media.”

“What do you do in digital media? That seems like a, a very broad field. And do you work for a company in the UK?”

RJ took a long slow sip of their drink, clearly stalling as they then swirled the liquid in the glass before answering. “The company is US based. I do a lot of behind the scenes stuff, sometimes editing, camera work, desk stuff.”

Leah picked up her phone. “Must be a small company if you’re doing all of that. Is there an Insta page I can check out? Give a like.”

“Yes, we have an Instagram account.”

“Okay. What’s the name of the company?” Leah had the app open and was just waiting.

RJ had their glass to their lips when they answered. “-third.”

“What was that?”

“Attacking Third.” RJ repeated.

“Really? That’s the show that covers the NWSL, right?” Leah started looking at the company's account on their app. “If they cover the NSWL, what are you doing here? Covering former NWSL players or something?”

“Something like that.”

Colin approached with a plate in hand. “Ms. Williamson, your chicken.” He slid the plate onto the bartop. “Enjoy. RJ, did you want anything?” RJ raised their now empty glass. “Be right back.”

After Colin dropped off the drink, the pair continued watching the game in silence as Leah ate her meal. Her plate was finished and cleared away when the match hit halftime. “I should get going. I have an event I need to be at tomorrow morning with the girls that will be far more mentally draining than 90 minutes on the pitch.”

RJ chuckled. “I can only imagine.”

The footballer gave the other patron a soft smile. “It was good to see you again. Maybe we’ll get lucky again.”

“I’ll get my hopes up.” They smiled. “Have a good evening Ms. Williamson.”

#leah williamson #woso community #woso fanfics #woso soccer

[duusheen]

oc deep dive with hope pollock! 😤 thank you for the tag @theosconfessions and @bloomingkyras <3

What uncommon/common fear do they have? Being alone, I guess. Hope has this romantic and idealized view of love because her parents have been together for so long that she grew up with it and she's like "wow, I want that too", so that's why she stayed with Danny all this time (because let's face it, everyone could see it except her)

Do they have any pet peeves? The lack of commitment. She simply detests people who are not capable of committing to their loved ones. In part, I guess it's because she is too compliant. She gives her all without expecting anything in return and sometimes people take advantage of her

What are 3 items you can find in their bedroom? Lots and lots of cat toys, her clothes on the floor and chairs (that's my messy girl) and probably a cat sleeping on top of the clothes.

What do they notice first in a person? She usually judges people by the way they treat others, especially girls 👀

On a scale of 1 to 10, how high is their pain tolerance? Meh, 4. She is the first daughter of a teen couple and the ultimate daddy's girl. Jay and Miracle practically wrapped her in bubble wrap for her entire life. Hope was protected by her parents much more than her sisters, and her tolerance for anything that hurts her is really low

Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure? I'd say she would fight? but seeing that she found Danny with his lover and ran straight to her parents' house… lol. She's definitely the kind of girl who would disappear without even leaving a note. "I don't like this bye" kinda girl.

Do they come from a big family/are they a family person? It depends on what is considered a "big family". She has three sisters, but her grandpa had 6 children, so you could say almost lol. That said, she is a family girl. If it were up to her, she would build a house on her parents' ranch and live there until she's old and gray.

What animal represents them best? A penguin? 😂🐧

What is a smell that they dislike? The smell of the disinfectant they use at the vet to clean the floors 🤢

Have they broken any bones? Never. I don't think she even scraped her knee as a child 🙄

How would a stranger likely describe them? I guess shy. But if the person in front of her shows up with an animal, Hope immediately becomes all chatty and excited. Nothing like a pet to break the ice (honestly me)

Are they a night owl or a morning bird? morning bird. Her routine starts every day at 6:00 a.m.

What is a flavor they hate and a flavor they love? She likes the deep taste of black coffee, and hates anything bitter.

Do they have any hobbies? Whenever she has a free moment, she likes to sit down and browse the Simflix catalog because her favorite thing is to sit and watch series.

Boom, surprise birthday party! How do they react to surprises? She would smile, pretend she's grateful for a total of five minutes and then hide in the bathroom to mentally prepare herself to be the center of attention until the party ends. After that, she'd probably relax and be okay.

Do they like to wear jewelry? She has her grandma Daphne's silver rings. She never goes anywhere without them; they're her lucky charm :')

Do they have neat or messy handwriting? Her handwriting was pretty neat in school, but now it's just a mess.

What are two emotions they feel the most? Inadequate and tired, as if she's trying to catch up with everyone's expectations.

Do they have a favorite fabric? Leather 😳. Not for anything special, but because it's the fabric where cat hair sticks the least.

What kind of accent do they have? She grew up on a ranch in Chestnut Ridge, so I like to think she has the sexiest country accent 😌

i tag: @aurorangen @theosconfessions (gimme some blake info please i miss him 👀) @ktysh @cupidszone @akitasimblr @awkwardwhims @aliengirl but feel free to ignore 😁💖

#is this too long? lmao #tag game

[pinazee]

Who ya gonna call? (The DID/trans ep)

Ill be honest i was nervous to rewatch this one but turns out it held up better than i thought. I mean, the worst of it is that the DID person is the murderer but that was such a common tv thing back then for procedurals. Every one had to have a DID ep, even though, as Psych points out, its so exceedingly rare. I get it, its a fun concept, but yeah, don’t make them the violent ones when 9 times out of 10 they’re the victims of violent crimes. I will say though, Psych made sure to include they were getting the help they needed and they really didn’t have to.

But what a cool way to show it though, having the other personalities act like ghosts. It feels very poetic. And to have one personality trans is such an interesting layer on top of it. It really can’t get more complicated than that.

This episode also tells us so much about Lassiter! Hes trying desperately to win back his not-yet-ex wife its kind of heartbreaking. We’re starting Psych right at the beginning of Lassiters downfall. He gets separated, has an “affair” with his partner who gets reassigned because ppl found out thanks to Shawn, and i believe its later implied he lost the promotion to captain because of that affair. And then Shawn comes along and he’s solving his cases. I have to wonder though, since we see in this ep how distracted he can be when he has personal issues, if Lassiter isn’t necessarily a bad detective in the beginning but just going through some shit and missing things. It kind of makes me understand why he’s so hostile to Shawn in the beginning. Not that thats any excuse. Just because you’re having a bad day doesn’t mean you get to shit on other ppl’s. And it was fun to see lassiters and Juliets miscommunication. It was nice to see them easing into their partnership, and allowing friction, particularly:

What was henry going to do if that kid just started wailing on shawn??? Honestly, probably would have tried to teach shawn how to hit back and would’ve got him pummeled.

Its kind of funny that in this ep Shawns all this guy believes in ghosts, hes crazy, when in later eps he’s so excited about aliens and bigfoot haha. I can only conclude Shawn doesn’t really believe in anything supernatural but definitely wants to. I think it would have been better if Shawn didn’t think the guy was crazy right off the bat but maybe had a stalker, or intruder. (P.s were the writers implying Shawn was right from the beginning and they were crazy, or was that just poor wording??)

Sidenote: Shawn just casually spoke german and seemingly understood her response. He probably simply knew enough to impress her, but still. He does this a few times i think in the series where he lets it slip how much he actually knows.

#maybe i should make a powerpoint presentation #that feels like the right format for the time haha #psych #psych rewatch #shawn and gus #shawn spencer #burton guster #james roday #james roday rodriguez #dulé hill #dule hill #shassie #carlton lassiter #juliet o'hara #timothy omundson #maggie lawson

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Me every time I read about Yves

Bro, he made me fall in love, I like to overshare a lot so mf would have a FEILD DAY on me just telling him all my deepest, darkest secrets plus my entire childhood to present, hell, I'll even gift him all my pics from early childhood to ones I take some time with friends or when I feel good about myself 😭

You when every time Yves is within 10 feet of you:

And he will have a field day listening to you, secretly going feral under his calm demeanor when you hand him deluxe edition media pieces of his obsession and hyper fixation (you). While you divulge all your embarrassing childhood secrets to Yves, he would hold you close and give your arms an assuring squeeze whenever he senses that you're beginning to think that you may have said too much.

It will subconsciously make you continue and erase the silly doubt in your head that you're bothering him with your blabbering. His smile will tell you that you're doing quite the opposite, you're such a sweet, sweet blessing to him.

If you're very observant and mentally strong enough to escape his mental spells, you will realize that you couldn't find anything that tells the time around you. His wristwatch is nowhere to be seen and anything that is used to digitally display the time (i.e., computers, phones, etc) will stop working. The blinds will be closed and there will not be any windows where you can peer out of and see the sun setting. Analog clocks will have their hands frozen in time, you wouldn't realize that an extraordinary amount of time has passed. Yves doesn't want you to realize that, he wants more of you, more of your voice and little adorable mannerisms that come with your chattiness.

He would coo praises and reward you with more kisses than you can count when you presented your collection of pictures that he already has copies of. But you didn't need to know that, he's welcoming of any and every gift from you- it's even higher in quality because it's the original. They will be displayed in a special segment of his underground museum for no one else to see.

Yves would feverishly update his database after putting you to sleep, secretly doing tiny hops of joy and clasping his hands close to his heart whenever he connected an observation of your behavior to a secret, expression of your thoughts, or an anecdote you told him prior. It's like solving a sentient, breathing, biological puzzle for him, and he loves puzzles. Not as much as he loves you, though- nothing comes close.

He would find he needed another hard drive or two, more writing pens, more printing paper, stapler bullets, folders and many more printer ink cartridges the next day.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere male #oc yves #yandere oc x reader #yandere x you #tw yandere #yandere oc #male yandere oc x reader #yandere concept

[tormentum-ab-intra]

Hey! You got a blorbo? I'll draw 'em for ya!

If you aren't sure if what you have in mind would be allowed, just message and ask! Slots [will update this post as spaces fill]: 1. [filled] 2. open 3. open 4. open 5. open 6. open

reblogs are greatly appreciated ^^

Information on terms and pricing below the cut!

Will do: -ocs -fan characters and fanart -whump -gore and body horror -furries -creature/animal characters -monsters and aliens -risque/nsfw (both you and the character[s] you're commissioning nsfw artwork of must be 18+!) -kink (bondage, noncon or cnc, knifeplay, etc)

Won't do: -heavy sci-fi -mecha/robots -irl people -super detailed character designs -complex backgrounds -complex armor -risque/nsfw of characters who are minors -incest -scat/watersports -hate speech, promotion of bigoted ideas, etc -design your character for you from scratch or draw without any references. -more than three characters in a single commission -I may decline to accept/draw any commission if I deem it necessary Add-ons: -magic FX: $5 -weapons: $5 to $15 -complex hair: $5 -wings: $5 to $20 depending on which color option you've chosen -small animal: $10 to $25 depending on which color option you've chosen -large animal: $15 to $30 depending on which color option you've chosen -complex pose: +25% of base price -simple background: +25% of base price >if it's a forest background, it's only +15% of the base price! love me some trees.

All prices and add-ons are in USD.

If you want to commission me, please contact me in one of the following ways:

DM me here on tumblr!

DM me on discord: @tormentum_ab_intra -- if you message me here, please state that you're interested in a commission or tell me which post you came from or something so I know you're not a bot 😂

shoot me an email: [email protected]. Please put 'commission inquiry' or something of the like in the subject line. I may take a bit longer to respond to emails than DMs. In your message or email, please include the size of the sketch (headshot, 3/4, or full body), the color option you'd like (plain sketch, monochrome shading, flat colors, or colors with shading), and a short description of your vision for the sketch, along with any reference images you'd plan on having me use. If you get a slot and I am able to draw what you've requested, I'll give you a price estimate and we can discuss any further details before I give you a final price! If you don't end up getting a slot this time around, I'll let you know as soon as I'm able. These will be done on a first come first serve basis.

If you aren't sure yet whether you want to purchase a commission, you can still message me with questions! I'd be happy to provide answers or additional examples of the type(s) of commission you have in mind.

Some important terms and additional pricing information:

If you'd like to commission me to draw more than one character, each character will be drawn on a separate canvas and treated like a separate commission. If you would like a commission with more than one character on the same canvas in the same commission, each character will be priced separately and the limit is three characters to a commission.

Payment will be done upfront in full via paypal invoice or venmo in USD. After this I'll start with a little concept/thumbnail sketch and send it to you so you can tell me if there's anything you need changed. From there, I'll move on to drawing the actual piece. I will send at least one screenshot during the drawing process as a check-in, so that you can let me know if I need to change anything before I continue. Depending on the type of commission, the number of check-in points will vary, and I'll let you know how many your commission type will have before I start drawing. Small revisions are no issue, but you can make only one major revision per check-in. Lastly, once it's complete and you've approved the final screenshot, I'll send you the final piece as a jpg and as a png -- preferably on discord since tumblr tends to nerf image quality, but if you'd rather I send it via email or here on tumblr let me know.

You may not use my artwork for AI or NFTs. I'm sure that goes without saying, but just in case.

These commissions are for personal use only; you may print out your commission if you like, but you may not sell prints of your commission or use it for other business/profit purposes.

You can post your commission online as long as you credit me.

Please allow up to three weeks from the date of payment for your commission to be completed. I will do my absolute best to finish it before then, but this way I have a cushion in case anything comes up. If for any unlikely reason there is a delay that looks like it'll result in a wait time of longer than three weeks, I will let you know as soon as it comes up and work hard to get the commission out to you as soon as I'm able! In such cases, I will refund part of the commission price to you to make up for the extra wait.

#commissions open #open commissions #open art commissions #oc art #character commissions #artwork #digital art #sketch #sketch commissions #artists on tumblr #digital artist #let's see how many tags with the word 'commissions' i can add before 'commissions' stops looking like a word lol #tormie's commissions #tormie draws #tormentum-ab-intra

[fancylala4]

I saw some of you anti Ts posts they are funny and I need to Rant. sorry.

I am so FUCKING sick and TIRED of being relatable being cool! Fuck! If I wanna listen to someone they need to sound good! Way better than ME! Why is being average so overhyped! Bring back actual talent! Bring back people who can sing! Really sing. I want to be awestruck. I want to me in mesmerized. For fuckss sake Taylor Swift is only that popular because she is average and these swifties identify with her.

And fucking hell I AM SO TIRED of this bitch! I am so tired that they act like only her achievements count and as if achievements of other artists don't fucking count!

The Weeknd has a song with 4Billion streams on Spotify.

Drake has one song with 3 Billion and one with 2 Billion

Post Malone has one with 3 Billion and two with 2 Billion

Dua Lipa has four with 2 Billion

Justin Bieber has 3 with 2 Billion and 1 with 3 Billion

Coldplay has 3 with 2 Billion

Bruno Mars has 3 songs with 2 Billion

Ed Sheeran has 3 songs with 2 Billion and 1 song with 3 Billion

Taylor fucking Swift just recently as one song with 2 Billion streams! ONE! if she is so big? Why doesn't she have more? I can answer you this. Because her stupid fans only care about first week streams. They care about getting her on the chart. That is what spotify and billboard pushes. These morons will mass play her music all night so it get streams. It's so embarrassing.

If she didn't release shit constantly and her stans weren't some pathetic losers wanting her to chart so she just charts there is no WAY in fucking hell she could compete with todays artists.

Fucking hell and they compare her to Michael Jackson! Taylor Swift does not have the LONGEVITY. SHE DOES NOT. Not Mariah Careys, Britney Spears, Elton John or the Beatles. There's more but here's a few.

Michael Jackson had a top ten hit in 5 DIFFERENT DECADES. ( 6 if you count the Jackson 5) And probably will have another one after the biopic comes out!

If Taylor Swift would do this she would have to be able to have a TOP TEN HIT in 2030 and 2040. There is no way she would be doing this.

Mariah Carey in 4 DECADES SINCE THE 90'S!

Britney Spears the same as Mariah!

Elton John in four from the 70's- 20's missing the 00's and 10's.

The Beatles in the 60's 70's 90's and 20's.

Like i hate it so much how much this woman is pushed! And swifties gon act like as if she is the only artist being this succesful! SHE IS NOT! It's more impressive that Rihanna still gets high streams beside not releasing anything for YEARS! BTCH i wanna see Taylor Swift not releasing anything for 7 Years and see where she's at. Let's find out. But this woman is to coward to ever do that. She is so damn desperate for validation it's embarrassing.

HOW THE FUCK IS SHE NOT EMBARRASSED WINNING ALL THESE AWARDS OVER PEOPLE WHO ARE 10 TIMES MORE TALENTED THAN HER?!

This btch is absolutely not humble because i would be embarrassed. Literally. It's like how can you shit as tour gain so much money when you know you can't dance and are a mid singer.

And these faces of acting shocked when she wins an award! With that open mouth and GOD! Yes we get it you won again "suprisingly."

How the fuck does she have more AOTYs than any other fucking artist ever? How the fuck does this mediocre ass woman have more than Janet, Michael Jackson, Amy Winehouse, Whitney Houston, Mariah Carey, Stevie Wonder.

And don't let me start on her victim card that she has used has her brand since fucking Kanye West had to go up on stage and embarrass her. He literally started this whole shit. You can never criticise her for anything. Because if you do you are a misogynist who just hates succesful women. She's always the fuckin victim and swifties romanticize it so much! They want her to be this struggling underdog who rose to fame cause that is what fits their damn wattpad story!

Taylor Swift wants to be the Man. She wouldn't be as succeaful if she was a man. Point blank period. Her shield to protect her self from any criticism wouldn't work. The only thing she has to be oppressed about is being a woman thats why her and swifties milk it so fuccking hard!!!

Thanks, and it’s ok. This whole blog is just a bunch of rants anyways.

But everything you said was true. I didn’t know she of all people have more aoty awards than those you mentioned. This just proves that the Grammys are a joke.

#asks #anon #anti taylor swift

[donascozylivingroom]

FEELING IS THE SECRET to manifesting WEIGHT LOSS

I've been losing weight eating whatever i want and not doing any kind of exercise.

And this time I've actually given up on robotic affirming because the pounds would not shed as fast as I wanted. I started visualizing, feeling it and believing what i see is me and it is REAL. Especially before sleeping like Neville Goddard says, but also throughout the day. It does help though to close my eyes and really feel it for 20 mins or so before i fall asleep.

The more you feel skinny, the more u become it, and it doesnt take ⭐️ving. It takes just feeling skinny, so ask yourself more like how can i make myself feel this more than 50% of the day at least? what do i have to imagine? how should i be moving my body or saying to myself in my mind about myself?

it takes discipline of course, but do u want it?

the key is persistance and not checking the 3d.

some people using subliminals lost 1-2 pounds per day, so not seeing a huge drop the first day u do this shouldn t be worrying.

as for food, i make sure after every meal i imagine and feel myself skinnier. for example although my belly might be over my jeans i visualize my flat belly underneath and keep on that thought/visualization as long as i can, or go to other parts of my body and visualize them skinny for 10-20 min after i eat.

wherever i am, i pretend i'm skinny and even though i don t feel it all the time, i choose to ignore it when i don't.

sometimes people around me would notice i'm slimmer but they don t say anything, and instead of asking them "have i lost weight?" i just tell myself in my mind: he/she noticed i lost weight, woohoo! after a few days they start telling me. because if i were to ask, my fears would most likely manifest and i wouldn t like their answer, so better keep it to myself so i don t regret it.

also, i don t have a mirror and i don t use a scale so i take pictures sometimes and compare them and i'm like wow there s actually a difference.

but then it kinda messes with my head a bit so i try to only take pics when i feel extra skinny.

i also imagine skinny girls eating and getting skinnier as best as i can. and tell myself eating makes me lose.

i still use robotic affirmations for other things, but not this, since i remembered as a child someone noticed i lost weight after feeling myself skinnier before sleep to "try it out" see if it works and i was super happy for that but i didn t know it takes persistance, otherwise i would be much further in my manifestations by now. lol.

#law of assumption #loa #persistence #robotic affirming #affirmations #weight loss #i wanna lose weight #i wanna be tiny #neville goddard #affirmdaily #manifesting #loassumption #feeling is the secret #thinspø

[alligaytorswamp]

i've seen few posts of kaeya and childe together on ur blog. And i'm kinda curious on why ur fascinated by this ship

"few posts"?? 😭

asdjhkajlhdjjshslkda sorry it's just this ship takes up too much of my personality to be just "few posts of kaeya and childe together" 😭😭😭

ERM ANYWAYS... AHHAHAJDSKASD

uhhh 1. i am not the guy to give good explanations for any ship im crazy about 2. bad memory and inability to talk eloquently be damned

i'd say that first of all they just *feel* right. which is -naturally- subjective as shit i just can see them interact, i can see the potential in their dynamic, kinda like... they have enough in common but also plenty of stuff they would have different opinions on. and all of it matches nicely where it's not "people who wouldnt get along due to crazy differences in morals and worldviews", it's more like "compatible people, whose differences can actually help them improve themselves"

uhhh ofc the whole abyss thing, kaeya being part of tartaglia's trial, hydro+cryo swag, them both being excellent big bros, etc etc (i probably am forgetting smth important) all of which helps me pretend they are real and canon

idk really how to explain it, it's just very real to me, and most of it i can only astral project into ur brain through vivid hallucinations i have about their interactions

and if i had to talk about my *personal* taste and why chaeya hits so hard, well it's just my fav "trope", where a character i don't care that much about (tartaglia) is simping HARD for the character a love (kaeya) LMAO i loveee seeing love fucking up imaginary people ok, AND my fav gets to receive all the attention teehee ^_^ (all of this is naturally kind of a joke, and only the surface level of what i think or i like about this ship)

maybe i could come up with more "reasons" .. errr.. tartaglia is crazy, but kaeya could handle that easily and make him better AND worse their banter would be immaculate, like u know they could have annoying fake conversations about weather and work with vague jabs and threats and somehow it's them flirting, but then also!! them talking fr?? being all fucking honest??? bruh. a man dedicated to his country and a man who had to question where he even belongs? wOooOOoOOw... angsty! deep! fascinating! now also take tartaglia's loyalty/dedication and throw all of it at kaeya? wow. have anyone ever gone crazy for kaeya like tartaglia could?? i need that and i think kaeya deserves that both are good with kids.... augh.... like consider all the 'political' tension there may be and them being on guard since this other guy lowkey highkey could be an enemy and then they both interact with klee. and like. WOW. no way this guy suddenly showing so much of his sweet and caring side?? 2094893 injured and 1 dead (it's me) ohhh they have such hardcore slowburn potential too... bc DENIAL ... and they shouldnt even like each other, but when they talk the sparks are fucking speeding thru and the flirting happens so naturally and oopsy daisy they are now casually writing each other letters totally insisting that all of it is to get some secret information out of the other but both long forgotten what that secret info even was AAAA ah.. there is just so much............... i could have written many novels of just my incoherent thoughts about them 😔

#ALTHO i dont think i have made 45 separate pieces of drawn content.. i think it's like ~30.. but also u know searching on tumblr is unreal #anyways #sorry.. i really dont know how to answer that LMAO #my heart chose a ship and my brain followed and made into a fixation #also i know for a fact there were like 2-3 post on here where ppl actually explained all the 'canon' parallels and other stuff #any of that would 10 times more useful than me #anonymous #ask adry #thanks for letting me have a little moment of ch-aeya craze heh