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lovekendri · 1 year

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shameless | finnick odair

finnick odair x fem!reader

request: Hiii! i love your peeta fics, would you be able to do a Finnick story kinda the same as your one with peeta where it’s the reader’s first time? ♥️

thank you so much for your request @emiiixx! this was originally just going to be a fluffy fun spicy fic but i think this might have what you're looking for! ♡

summary: you attend a celebration party for your boyfriend's 10th anniversary as a hunger games victor, his charisma leads you to your first time.

cw: 18+ only! established relationship, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), bit of a pleasure dom!finnick, inexperienced!reader, mention of fingering, tiny bit of a choking kink, praise kink, marking kink if you squint, aftercare!

wc: 2.6k

type: ❀ | ✽

Loud yet incoherent music pumped throughout the crowded central area of District 4, a celebration for none other than your boyfriend.

You were lost in crowds of people and circles of tables, yet flooded with questions and admiration of how incredibly lucky you were to have such a desirable man, how delightful he must be to have around your finger.

In reality, you were wrapped around his finger.

He was yours, you were his, it was a truly simple relationship to the unlucky outsiders. From afar, you'd watch him be spun around by eager teenage girls and obsessed older ladies, desperate middle aged mothers and intoxicated younger girls. You watched him receive kisses on the cheeks, girls jumping for just a single peck anywhere near his lips.

He was yours.

A cup in your hand and surrounded by teenage girls dying to know what a kisser he was at their young age, you felt superior to consider him yours.

"He's definitely a good kisser, right?" one girl would chirp, pleading to be heard over the boom of loud speakers.

"What about a tongue kisser? Does he like that?" another would pry.

"My boyfriend loves to do that stuff," the third would drawl, fanning herself in exclamation.

"Oh, honey, I don't think you know the next thing about tongue kissing yet," you'd say, giving a breathy laugh. "You'll get there."

You walked past multiple groups of people, some who wouldn't acknowledge you, but others who waved politely and said hello.

Your target was Finnick, and as you walked up to him, you set a light hand on his shoulder and trailed your fingers around his black collared shirt.

It was your favorite way to get his attention.

He turned to you almost immediately, a glint of light in his eyes appeared and a playful grin grew on his face as he trailed you walking around to his side, signature smile glowing.

He admired your matching sparkly black dress, taking in the sight before speaking.

"I missed your face, pretty girl," he said, just loud enough to hear over the blare of music, taking your jaw into his rough hand and grazing your lips with his thumb. His hand was swift to trail around your neck and down your back to pull you to his side.

Loud cheers from a group of people sounded from behind you at the gesture, as you two were the life of the party. He smiled at the acknowledgement, your giggle lighting up his face. He leaned down to kiss you on the forehead softly, fingers squeezing at your side.

Besides fighting off girls, he was talking to other mentors and victors of District 4, popular among the other Careers who had fought alike to the death. It was common to have them over at your house in Victor's Village to have small gatherings and dinners.

"I'll say day after day, lucky woman," a female victor said to you, winking at you and nodding her head toward Finnick.

"Oh, please. I'm sure you could get him any day, having won the Hunger Games and all," you joked back, ignoring the playful glare down from Finnick and the bite of his fingers digging into your side to pull you closer.

Her name was Rose, and she was a bit of an older lady, probably in her late 30's, early 40's. She supposedly won the Games when she was 16, pretty much the average age to win, but she was pretty, blonde, tall, and looked surprisingly young. Though, you suppose, the Capitol helps out with that a bit.

Rose and another male victor laughed with you as Finnick rolled his eyes and sputtered about how he wishes he could strangle you sometimes, and that you drive him insane most days.

"Man," Finnick lowered his voice to talk in the small circle of four other people as they leaned in to hear him, "I'd enjoy some sugar cubes and sparkling juice in the comfort of my own home right now."

The victors in the circle laughed nodding in agreement. You watched a male victor put his hands into his pockets, his posture slouching back in his dress shirt and pants. Another victor took a sip of his drink, while Rose looked toward Finnick.

"You should share some sugar cubes with your lovely girlfriend," she joked, "I'm sure she'd love them."

Finnick turned to you, nodding.

"I know it's my party, but I'm sneaking out of here," he laughed, "nobody will notice anyways with you guys around."

Finnick winked at Rose and another victor that was paying attention, sliding his hand into yours and pulling you away from the party, pushing through a small gate to lead you toward Victor's Village.

He was practically dragging you through roads.

"Slow down!" you laughed, "we don't have to fly out of the party!"

He stopped dead in his tracks, halfway down a lit street toward his house. Not expecting him to stop so abruptly, you slammed into him.

"Not that slow!" you said, playfully punching his arm as you giggled out the pain in your cheek that you felt.

"Oh, you're fine," he said, grabbing your jaw, and kissing you on the forehead once again.

You loved when he kissed you anywhere, but you loved forehead kisses and steamy make-out sessions. Finnick made you feel like the only girl in the world, the only one he lusted and loved for.

He pulled you the rest of the way to his house, pulling his keys out of his dress pants pocket to unlock the door.

He pushed open the door, flipping on the light switch and leading you directly to his cozy living room, the simple chandelier casting a warm beige glow over the room.

You fell face first into the denim colored velvet couch, rubbing your hands into the soft fabric and releasing a heavy exhale in relief. You felt the couch dip beside your legs, and the zipper on the back of your dress loosened, slowly being undone.

"Can I take your shoes off for you, love?" he asked, his hand now rested on your back at the bottom of your zipper.

You kicked your feet up onto his lap, and exhaled once again, getting comfy as he helped you undress. He had no problem undoing your heel buckles and pulling them off, dropping them onto the ground.

You heard Finnick take a long inhale, running the hand that rested on your back along your spine and onto the back of your neck. He leaned down, laying halfway on the side of the couch.

Gently tucking his face into your neck, he gave you a few pecks on the empty spaces his hand didn't cover.

"Finnick," you exhaled into the couch, lifting a hand to place on his thick bicep. He paused his kisses, listening to your quiet breathing get faster.

"Something wrong, my love?" he asked, murmuring into your neck. Licking a spot on your neck and biting it softly, he pushed a gasp out of your throat.

"Didn't think so."

You squeezed his arm once more, tingles and swirling heat building in your stomach as he kissed you more, leaving small bruises along your neck the more he bit.

"Can we try something new tonight?" he asked quietly, face still buried into your neck and hand wrapped around the back of your neck, controlling where your head moved if you even tried to move it.

He had as much as fingered you before, and you two often made out. You had never experienced full sex with him, but you were eager to if he offered.

"I'd have no problem with that," you said, your stomach now a whirling tornado of heat and butterflies the more he spoke. Your throat was constricting from both his hand and the anticipation, nervous to try something so new with him.

He erected himself once again, sitting up straight on the couch and dragging his hands around your hips. Squeezing your waist, he pulled at your hips to have you sit up for him.

You picked yourself up, adjusting yourself to face him.

Your cheeks were hot from laying face down, but also because of the way he admired you, his eyes darting around your body as he took in your image with a sharp inhale.

"Come here, pretty girl," he cooed, undoing the belt that held up his dress pants, watching your expression like a hawk as you stared in awe at his seemingly perfect and precise movements.

Your cheeks began to burn bright red as you watched him pull the belt from the belt loops and undo the button around his waist, your stomach swirling aggressively with heat and arousal as he watched you.

He left the button open, pushing the fabric to the side and revealing a set of black boxers and readjusting his hips to sit away from the couch cushion, manspreading, as he grabbed for your hips to pull you on top of him.

You scooted toward him, allowing him to grab you by the hips and pull you on top of his lap, immediately pressing his lips to yours.

This would be the only time you were taller than him, and the way his warm, plump lips guided and pushed against yours erupted a volcano of butterflies. Your thighs were bare against his legs, the soft fabric of his pants warm and inviting.

Your dress was loose against your back, the thin straps beginning to fall down your shoulders ever so slightly, the hem of the dress riding up your legs the more you kissed him, his hands tightly gripped onto your hips.

Finnick was focused on making you feel the best he could, trailing his lips down your jaw and throat, kissing dangerously low on your collarbone and chest.

When he pulled away, you met his eyes, looking down at him for the first time in your life. They were darkened with lust and desire, his mouth curling up on the sides as he watched the redness of your face deepen, your eyes darkening with the same lust, plagued with need.

He looked down, a small breathy laugh falling out of his lips. He moved his face toward your chest, his hands slowly moving up your hips to place his hands over your breasts.

He kissed around your breasts, sometimes licking a small spot before biting it until he dropped his hands onto your hips again.

Moving his face up your neck to rest his lips against your ear, he whispered.

"You ready, love?"

You exhaled quietly, nodding as he adjusted his pants once again, pulling down his boxers.

It sort of sprung up against his stomach, a perfect length with girth, a few prominent small veins running up to a glistening dark pink head.

Your face was the color of a ripe tomato, watching as he stroked himself once or twice, grabbing your hips and looking up to you once again.

You lifted yourself up, preparing for him to sit you himself.

As he adjusted to sit you on him, the entrance of his dick for the first time sent electrifying butterflies through your body, a light moan pushing past your lips as he sat you all the way down with ease, your thighs once again meeting his dress pants.

He grabbed for your ass, squeezing gently as he began to rock you back and forth, hitting the perfect spot to send butterflies and heat coursing through your body.

"Oh, fuck," he moaned, throwing his head back, gripping your ass tighter as he forced himself to move your hips at the same pace.

Small moans and whimpers released from your throat every time he rocked you, your arms wrapping around his neck and pulling his head into your chest as you gripped the back of his shirt.

He began to move you faster, his fingers digging into your ass to leave a definite mark on you the next morning.

"You feel so good," he praised, his moans breathy and deep, heat building quickly in your stomach as he moved your hips faster.

He shook your arms loose a bit to kiss your neck once again, biting harsher than before, licking the spots when you'd gasp. You'd push your head down to kiss him, moans and whimpers threatening to break the kiss when he'd thrust just right, the friction between your thighs and his pants growing hot. Your straps had fallen down your shoulders now, your breasts barely covered by a strip of fabric with Finnick's face buried by your neck.

The fact he was fully clothed while you were practically falling naked in front of him was oddly arousing, the idea of him watching you strip from his thrusts made your face hot. The darkened light of the living room and the occasional creak of the old couch left the room in a steamy sensation, the rest of the house black with empty light while nothing mattered to Finnick, just you feeling good.

This was the best thing he'd ever treated you to, his perfect dick sliding in and out of you with no effort, the kisses and nips he'd leave at your neck to mark you as his. The muffled sound of skin slapping as pants met bare thigh, the jingle of the metal buckle that laid to the side.

"Come on, I know you're close, baby."

You felt the rush of an upcoming orgasm as he plead for you, his hands grew impossibly tighter on you, practically slamming you onto his cock as your body erupted in butterflies.

"Cum for me, pretty girl."

White hot heat burst through your body, loud moans and cusses falling from your lips as he worked you through your orgasm, the butterflies and searing pleasure overtaking your body as you collapsed against his chest, your head falling to his shoulder.

Deep moans erupted from his mouth as he worked himself through his own orgasm moments later, slowing you to a halt, his hands leaving your ass to caress your body.

"You're such a good girl," he cooed once again, kissing your neck and pulling you up from his body to look at him.

His smile was soft and genuine, your body exhausted from the best thing you'd ever felt.

"Let's get you cleaned up, darling," he whispered, pulling you off of his lap to place you down against a pillow off to the side.

He stood up, buttoning his pants once again and leaving the room for a few minutes.

You'd heard various lights switch on and off, listening to the softness of his footsteps around the house.

Finnick came back with a pair of plaid pajama pants and an old tee of his, a wet towel, and a small box of cookies and water from the pantry.

Helping you up, he wiped you down with the towel, helping you take off your dress and replace it with the pajamas and tee. He sat you back down against the cushion, turning around to grab the cookies.

"The best for last," he smiled, leaning down to kiss you softly as he set the cookies and water on the table in front of you, turning on the tv to a show you'd never seen before, the volume barely up.

As you took a cookie, he laid down next to you and placed your head on his lap, relaxing as you combed your fingers through his hair, the sound of the tv and the quietness of his breath soon lulling you to sleep.

main masterlist | my profile | thg masterlist | request | proof-read: ✓

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valictini · 6 months

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Here is all the concrete lore info we have that COULD hint at one team being the cursed one (as far as i know, pls add onto it if i missed something) I am not counting all the player interactions and events that no admin could have reasonably predicted (sorry team Bolas, but just because you embraced insanity after a very unlucky day 1 doesn't mean you're cursed)

Blue team:

- Dapper's the only egg to explicitly tell their parent to win at all cost

– (copy pasted from @lb1412 's response) Mariana logged on the QSMP the day before the event, among other things he was led by Codeflippa to a trap (in the Nether ?) and got disconnected with a message that said something along the lines of "now your name is blue and for victory you will fight"

-(also copied) In the first Purgatory cinematic, we saw six different people on a screen with some info about them. 3 of them were from green team, the 3 others were from red team. No blue team member.

- (from @demodraws0606 's reblog) almost all the Kill contracts have been against blue team members

Green team:

- Forever has that Judas ritual book and we dont know what it does but it is very suspicious

- ElQuackity is straight up an agent of chaos invited by the eye entity

Red team:

- Now that we know what all the tickets look like, it is confirmed that all the special tickets' owners (minus Quackity) are part of team red

- Some people make the argument that the team compositions gave a disadvantage to Red Team for how many MIA players they had and how there were no pvp tryharders among them. I'm not entirely convinced by the first argument because among the other teams are people who were bound to log in once and never show up again after the first day, too. I do find it suspicious that aside from Philza, no big pvp players were in their team, though.

Additional info:

The eye entity gave a task to ElQ that could have let him know who the cursed team was, ( i suppose to help sabotage them?) But he was too weak to perform the task and never got the answer.

> it implies that the cursed team DOES exist but it could also be a lie just to taunt ElQ for being so bad at sabotage.

It's possible that none of the parameters I've listed have anything to do with the curse. It could be just random. Or it could all be lie and there is no cursed team.

#qsmp #qsmp purgatory #qsmp team bolas #qsmp team red #qsmp team soulfire #qsmp team blue #qsmp team green #qsmp team gay green ninja #qsmp theory

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lunastrophe · 2 months

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Do you know of any drow customs around food? I've found bits and bobs about what they eat but not say, how they might invite someone to dinner and convince them that the food totally isn't poisoned. Anything beyond getting an unlucky slave to taste-test or cleric to cast Detect Poison and Disease? I'm hoping there might be something to flesh out a campfire scene I'm writing.

Thanks so much for your time and lore knowledge!

Hi! Coincidentally, I was also researching this topic recently - for a dinner scene in my story 🙂

🕷️ Avoiding - from what I found, drow may try to simply avoid sharing meal with people they trust even less than they would trust an average drow. For example, they may refuse to receive or sample any food or drinks offered by drow who are known to be their rivals, or allies of their enemies.

Lolth-sworn drow generally tend to have some very serious trust issues, so I imagine that sharing or accepting an offered meal could be seen as a measure of trust in their society. So basically, to convince a drow that they can safely eat your food, you need to convince them first that you are not their enemy.

🕷️ Mithridatism - or, building up tolerance or immunity to a poison by taking gradually larger doses of it. Minthara even mentions it in one of her lines, when she speaks about preparing her partner to visit Menzoberranzan. I suppose that this is a very popular practice among Lolth-sworn drow - they most likely know thousands of different poisons, but given their long lifespan, they also have a chance to immunize themselves to many of them.

It does not allow to detect poisoned food or drink. But I imagine that a drow practicing mithridatism would be less reluctant to accept a meal, for example, from a relatively friendly or neutral surfacer ("weak surfacers, they probably do not even know any good poisons, not to mention ones strong enough to kill a drow").

🕷️ Detecting Poison - it does not necessarily mean using a spell. A drow may, for example, try to spot unusual impurities, changes in texture, colour or smell of food or drink using simply their knowledge, experience, perception and/or alchemical skills. I imagine that many drow develop a habit of briefly inspecting their food for poison in this way, even in a relatively trusted company.

🕷️ Useful Items - in D&D lore, there are many items and substances that can detect poison (unicorn horn, for example). There are also spells and items that can make a person temporarily or permanently immune to poisons (like Periapt of Proof Against Poison). They may be popular among drow who can afford such things.

A person wearing a Periapt would need not to worry about checking their food and drink for poison... but they may be reluctant to wear such a trinket openly - if only because their enemies may arrange for it to be stolen.

Hope you will find some of these lore pieces useful!

#drow #drow lore #drow culture #lolth sworn drow #dnd lore

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liesmyth · 2 months

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👀?

YES THIS IS TRUE. And that's why you don't fuck around and find out on race day.

Some background for people who aren't into endurance activities: running burns a fuck of a lot of calories, primarily carbs. There's only a certain amount of carbs your body can store and efficiently use as an energy source; failing that, your body will start burning fats. Unlike what #fitspo influencers want you to think, "running to burn fats" is neither recommended nor pleasant — a common slang for it is "hitting the wall" because that's very true to how it feels. It's not efficient, and some people purposefully train on a completely empty stomach to be able to handle it better. There are many schools of thought, studies etc., and I'm simplying a lot here, but the point is:

If you're going to run for longer than 90 minutes, you WILL have a MUCH easier time if you consume carbs at some point mid-workout. There's also the fact that many people aren't comfortable running on a full stomach, or don't want to chew mid-run, and for all these reasons energy gels are veeeery popular among runners. They're calorie-dense and made to consume on the go, and contain a combination of simple and complex carbs designed to be absorbed as quickly as possible, might also have electrolytes. and have different flavour profiles... and some give you the shits. Or stomach cramps. Or nausea. Alas. Such is life.

Some people are more unlucky than others and there's like only one or two brands of gels they can stomach, some people are god's favourite children and they can eat everything, but just to be safe! If you have a big intense workout or a race coming up, always go with a tried and true nutrition for every run that you know for sure works for you.

(Fun fact! Last time I checked, we don't actually know WHY there's so much ???? weird overlap between running and bowels / stomach issues. It's just... very normalised in the running community that sometimes running makes you need to poop and that's just how it is. We all know it, we just never talk about it. Bodies are weird. So... combine that with an energy gel that you're sensitive to? It's hell.)

Anyway. Never fuck around and find out on the day of a race.

Anyway #2: that long introduction above is also why it's important to refuel if you're going to do cardio for extended periods! Like, if you're taking a 2-hour dance class, you might want to snack on dried fruit and you'll feel more energetic by the end of it. Or why football players eat energy bars at halftime, or why it's a good thing to take food along on a hike. Even if you perform better on a mostly empty stomach (I do!) some light nutrition will make you 1) accomplish more and 2) FEEL BETTER.

SORRY I TOOK THIS FUNNY POST AND INFODUMPED I just think sports science is soooo fascinating

#jitteryhands #ask #jockposting #runblr #running #my PERSONAL nutrition strategy is dried fruit tbh i don't vibe with gels. but sometimes they're useful bc they're SO practical #thankfully I'm one of god's perfect children in that my body handles perfectly those cheap declathon brand gel packets #& a couple brands that are so popular that they always end up in race packs for sponsors reasons #if I'm running longer than 90 minutes I try to snack every 40 minutes #so once or twice depending on the length or the run / if there are any intervals etc

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drama--universe · 4 days

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Marry me

Requested by anonymous: Hello!🫰🫰 I'm back because like I said before - I can never get enough of Xichen! Request: The reader (female) has an injury in the past. She has scars on her face, which she hides with her spiritual power so that no one can see her scarred face and see her as before - a beauty. She befriended Xichen during a meeting in Lanling where she served as Jin Guangyao's assistant/representative. They both discovered that they had similar interests - playing the flute, books, etc...soon they confessed their love and got engaged. But the reader never revealed her biggest secret to him - her true face. She was afraid that by revealing her face, Xichen would no longer love her. Jin Guangyao was the only one who knew about her past injuries and covering her face, and the reader looked to him for comfort. But what the reader didn't know...Xichen already knew about everything from Guangyao a long time ago. Xichen then confronts the reader and assures her that he loves her and that he never saw her ugly🩷🩷🩷…

Pairing: Lan Xichen x fem!reader

Word Count: 3.3k words

Guangyao had told you this would happen, that people would whisper and laugh at you, and yet you couldn't lift your head. It was clear why, you were the assistant of a bastard (not your choice of words) and thus in other people's eyes you weren't really worth being nice to. Yet it reminded you of your childhood, way before you were able to control your spiritual powers, where people would mock and laugh at you for the scars on your body. You remembered that day clearly, like it had happened yesterday.

It was a stupid freak accident, you didn't know how it even started. Fire had erupted in the west side of the manor in the middle of the night, in the room of the head of the household. You, along with a few hundred other maids or those who were learning to be maid, had been sleeping in the East wing. Chaos had already started by the time the fire reached your quarters. You weren't woken, not by a single person sleeping near you. Instead, you were left alone and still asleep. By the time you awoke, the flames were already licking away at your skin and melting your sheets. The screams you wanted to let out just settled in your chest as you leaped out of your bed. You were able to escape in the nick of time, watching as the building collapsed onto the unluckier people. The last thing you saw that night was the flames engulfing all that was left while screams filled the night.

Even to this day, your skin had never recovered from the flames, remaining a red and white colored scar that covered the left side of your body and face. It was not something you minded, but the looks and judgement were. Even now as you covered your appearance with a glamor, the idea that it was because of your scars was still lingering in the back of your mind.

But among all of the stares, one person was not staring. Or at least not in a menacing way like the rest, rather just out of curiosity or kindness. You didn't need an introduction to the man, his kind looks and robes said enough for you to realize who he was. Lan Xichen, as far as you were aware he was the head of his clan. A gentle smile rested on his face as he greeted Guangyao, clearly one of the only people in the room with some decent brains, before he turned to greet you.

"I don't believe we have met." He speaks and you're surprised with how formal he talks to you, unlike most who treat you as a maid (still). Your heart leaped out of your chest as he made eye contact with you before bowing slightly, which you quickly returned while introducing yourself briefly. The man gave another smile before turning to Guangyao, talking about business that you didn't understand and thus didn't pay attention to it. You took that time to look around slightly, taking note of all of the faces around you while trying to remember all of their names. It could prove to be handy later, no use in offending someone else. Especially not with how you were already viewed by others, anything to displease them would certainly cost you your head.

You were pulled from your thoughts when Guangyao called your name, gently guiding you to your seats. Coincidentally, you were sat right next to Xichen and the rest of his groups. You assumed that they were his juniors, their attires slightly less impressive than that of Xichen.

The meeting started, points carefully being brought up and discussed. You nor Guangyao spoke up much, receiving a casual shrug and being spoken over when you did, and the same went for Xichen. Yet when he spoke, elegantly and refined, everyone listened to his stance on the topic. It was almost comical how quickly the room went quiet, all eyes turning to him and carefully listening to every word that exited his mouth. When he finished, flashing that gorgeous smile that you were certainly falling in love with, everyone would nod along and agree without even thinking farther about it on their own.

At the end, you were escorted to your room and once again near Lan Xichen. Well, sort of anyway. You slept in the same room as the female Lan disciplines and thus straight across of Xichen's room.

As the days of the banquet continued, you saw more of Xichen and he even approached you without Guangyao near you. You had quite enjoyable conversations, always finding yourself smiling for hours after your interactions, and you assumed he enjoyed them the same since he kept approaching you. Your conversations ranged from talking about the points of the meetings to talking about some book either of you had read. If not those subjects, it was about what you had for dinner since you never seemed to join the dinner meetings, but you weren't about to tell him that you didn't get the chance because of your exhaustion and lack of energy to keep up the glamor on your face. So instead, you buried yourself in work and wallowed in solitude.

Like now, where you sat at your work table with papers thrown around on the desk while your food rested on your lap. It was something simple, just a regular broth that you had eaten every single day at this point. One of your hands was focused on writing, slightly messy (not that it mattered), while your other hand focused on feeding yourself. Usual routine, except that Guangyao was seated opposite of you and doing the same as you were, all be it more clumsy. Why he was here, you had no clue. However, you did enjoy the company, even when there was only the scribbling on and the rustling of paper to cover the silence.

"Can you hand me the notes from... 3 days ago? You know, the one about that... Well, you know which one I mean." Guangyao's voice broke through the silence and you looked up before rustling through the papers as you searched, knowing full well which he meant. But even when knowing what it was and where it should be, you could not find it. You went through them once again but still nothing.

"I don't have it..." "Ah! Got it, sorry..." He spoke again as he pulled out the paper from his own stack, to which you only scoffed before returning to your own work once more. You didn't get far as the silence was broken once more as Guangyao spoke up again.

"I forgot to mention, but I asked Xichen to drop by. I asked if he could drop by some stuff from yesterday." He said, to which you nodded before pulling your dress to cover your legs and pulling the front tighter around you so it would cover you enough. Then you sighed softly and focused your energy to cover up your scars. Just as you did that, a knock interrupted the silence and you looked up to see Xichen. He gave you a smile before joining you, looking over the notes on the table once as he sat down near Guangyao. You decided to just focus on your work as the two talked, but you answered the questions thrown your way ever so often.

"You're staring again." Guangyao subtle jab made you jolt before you looked away from your topic of interest, which happened to be a very nice and tall man. You just scoffed in response, but you could not refute him as your gaze flickered back to said man. He was talking to some of his juniors, who were attentively listening to him with a gleam that you could only chuckle at.

"You can just talk to him, you know?" "I can, but I'm not going to. Besides, he's talking with them right now." You pointed at the group around Xichen before turning away from him and sighing again. Guangyao only laughed again at you before focusing on his snack. You did the same, eating the fruit before flinching when someone sat beside you. You recognized him as someone from the Lanling Jin clan and couldn't help but sigh softly again as you waited for what he was going to say. It was the usual conversation with the casual flirtatious remarks added in along with some comments that made you grimace, none of them clearly realized how insulting the comment 'You don't look like a maid, rather a rich girl' was. You were neither, not that either was insulting to you, but for them to assume that a maid was ugly and a "rich girl" was pretty was just weird if anything. So, like usual, you just nodded before continuing to do what you were doing before. However, this guy seemed to not take that as a clear answer and continued.

"I apologize if to was not clear, but I'm spoken for at the moment." You gave a smile that you were sure he understood was fake before turning away again in hopes that he'd finally give up.

"Really, do I know him?" The tone of his voice was mocking you and you could only scoff while your eyes darted around again. You couldn't use Guangyao, everybody knew that you had a sibling relationship. Instead your eyes landed on Xichen again, who seemed to notice your gaze immediately as if he was already looking at you. The slightly panicked expression on your face seemed enough for him to make his way over, so you quickly sprung into action.

"He seems to be walking over right now and I do assume you know him." You gave another smile, hoping that he hadn't noticed you and Xichen share a look. Seemingly, he didn't as his face just paled slightly while he greeted the clan head. You found it hilarious as you smiled at Xichen before flinching again when the man beside you excused himself in a hurry.

"Spoken for, huh?" Guangyao teased while Xichen looked slightly confused as he sat down beside you in the spot where the previous guy sat.

"I seem to have missed something..." Xichen said with a small smile and you shook your head with a laugh. "I needed an excuse for him to leave, the solution was you." You said in a teasing manner, hopping he'd take it as a stupid joke and didn't think too much about it.

"She told him that you and her were courting." Guangyao spoke up and you gave him a pointed glare before softly slapping his arm. Xichen looked at you with an amused look and you awkwardly looked at him before scoffing again.

"I said a was spoken for, not courting." You gave another pointed glare to Guangyao before he was able to speak up. "Technically those are the same." Your glare moved over to Xichen and his eyes widened slightly in surprise. "Not that I know anything about that." He backtracked and you nodded before turning to your snacks again, angrily munching while you tried to ignore the pang of embarrassment that shot through your mind. And like a rolling ball down a hill, you felt all energy suddenly drain after and you paused before groaning as you dropped your head down. Guangyao, guessing what was happening, was quick to jump up and move to your side.

"I'm going to my room, headache is starting again." The lie didn't seem obvious as Xichen didn't react to it, rather watching you walk off to your room. Neither he not Guangyao followed, just remaining in their seats with worried looks as you sauntered off.

How you ended up here was slightly confusing, but you were here. Right opposite of you was Xichen, who seemed fully content while you tried to hide your embarrassment. How you hadn't realized that your hang-out was in fact a date, was a miracle and it didn't help that Xichen had to point that out. Not that you minded it, you could just not believe that you were that oblivious. Instead of having your existential crisis before the date, like you would usually do when you realized that your crush liked you back, you now had to do so on the date itself. Hence why your head was placed on the table, your eyes closed while you tried to ignore the low chuckling from the man opposite of you.

"I should've made it more obvious." "No, no, no... I'm just stupid, sorry." You lifted your head for a second to apologize before letting it drop again, hoping for the hit against the table to knock you out. Not connecting to the table made you pause before opening your eyes to see Xichen's hand.

"Can you just not be a gentleman for a few seconds?" You asked and he let out a laugh, one you had never heard before. Normally, the man was reserved and quiet, maybe even a bit uptight. Now, however, he seemed relaxed and a bit more open. It was nice, made him a bit more attractive than he already was. I mean, who didn't like someone more when they felt more relaxed around you.

"I don't think I can agree to that. I had to promise Guangyao to treat you to the best of my capabilities." He said with another one of his charming smiles, but you could only scoff at the mention of Guangyao and laying your head on his hand again.

"Of course he did... He knows my weaknesses." You mumbled and Xichen pushed your head up to look at you. "Me being nice is attractive to you?" He asked and you chuckled at him before sitting up.

"Oh, God. You have no idea, do you?"

"No, no, no... Teach me that again!" You exclaimed as you tried to follow Xichen's fingers on the strings of his instruments. Xichen chuckled before plucking at the strings once more, showing you the rhythm and melody. You grimaced before doing the same, wincing when the notes came out wrong once again.

"I think I should stick with woodwind instruments, strings don't agree with me." You joked, looking back and chuckling at Xichen before dropping your head backwards and on his shoulder.

"Giving up isn't allowed, come on." He took ahold of your hands and guided them on the strings, bending his fingers with yours to make you play. The notes, while not all right, sounded much better then before.

"You know, that's one rule of yours I agree with." "Which one do you not agree with?" He asked and you looked up before kissing his cheek.

"No public affection." You smiled before kissing him on the lips once, feeling his smile against your lips before he pulled away. "Now that's a rule I'm willing to break soon." He said and you raised an eyebrow at him.

"I'm afraid we have to be married for that-" The smirk on his face made you stop in the middle of your sentence before your eyes widened and you jumped up from your seat between his legs.

"Are you asking me to marry you?!" You exclaimed and Xichen shrugged softly, awaiting your reaction and seemingly looking disappointed when you whined at him.

"Do you not want to marry me?" "Yes, I do! But that was so... so unromantic." You whined as you stepped closer to him again, cupping his face and chuckling.

"But I will marry you."

"Why did I say yes?!" You complained to Guangyao, who just sat on your bed while trying to get you to stop pacing and stressing. You couldn't help it, hands pulling at your hair while you paced.

"I don't see a problem... He's the love of your life, no?" "Yes!" You answered and Guangyao made a motion, asking what the problem was. You stopped pacing and pointed at your burns, more specifically those on your face and neck. Once again, Guangyao asked what was wrong.

"I look disgusting! People think I'm a monster that they warn their kids about!" You almost screamed at him and Guangyao was quick to get up when he noticed how distressed you were, tears streaming down your face. He marched to you, placing his hands on your shoulders and trying to get you to calm down.

"Let's not go back there, alright? We talked about this before, you are not a monster. You will never be one and those scars do not make you one." Guangyao said and you scoffed at him as you tried to escape his grasp, unsuccessfully. Instead, Guangyao's grip tightened on your shoulders as he tried to make you to face him.

"I know you're not and you know that too." He continued and you groaned, letting yourself fall to the ground and let yourself go. Tears started streaming down your face as you pushed Guangyao off of you, pushing yourself in a corner and hiding yourself. Guangyao seemed to get the hint as you heard the door open and close.

You don't know how long it was as you kept crying, but long enough for your throat to get dry and scratchy. No tears remained as you sobbed, which made you even more annoyed. When the door opened, however, you could only groan and raise your head.

"Get out, A-Yao." You exclaimed before freezing as you saw Xichen in the doorway, looking at you with a worried face. He approached while you stared at him in fear, not even thinking of covering your face as you tried to process the fact that Xichen was standing before you.

He kneeled down, caressing your face as he wiped away tears stains before pulling you closer to him. Your face got pressed against his shoulders and you let yourself go again, wrapping yourself around him and sniffling to yourself. His hands rubbed circles on your back to try and comfort you, which you had to admit was working slightly. After a few more minutes of this and then you leaned back, staring at Xichen with tears still in your eyes.

"Guangyao said you were having a panic attack, I came as quick as I could." Xichen explained and you could only groan as he said it, slightly annoyed at the fact that this was not even something you were surprised about. His hand soon found your face, thumb grazing over the scar on your face before softly placing a kiss on your cheek.

"I do not care for your scars, you are beautiful like you are. If you feel better hiding them in public, I will not judge you or try to change you. I do, however, want you to know that you do not need to around me. If you'll still have me, I will marry you however many times you want." He gave you a soft smile, one that made your heart melt and your façade crumble.

"Do you really don't care? I mean, I look like a monster and-" "I'm stopping you right there. You do not look like a monster, rather a strong person that survived a terrible thing. Guangyao had told me your story and I know what you've been through. It might not have been his story to tell, but it happened to slip out during a conversation of ours." He continues and you frown, not really understanding what he was trying to say.

"So I think I have to ask you again." He kneeled before you and took ahold of your hands, kissing your knuckles softly before continuing.

"Will you marry me?"

#the untamed #the untamed x reader #the untamed lan xichen #the untamed lan xichen x reader #untamed #untamed x reader #untamed lan xichen #untamed lan xichen x reader #mdzs #mdzs x reader #mdzs lan xichen #mdzs lan xichen x reader #lan xichen #lan xichen x reader #xichen #xichen x reader #reader insert #x reader #request

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imzsuzsis-blog · 24 days

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"I hate him, what the hell was wrong with him yesterday?" I looked angrily at Max and Cheko, who also learned about everything from the news. "Fuck me, I'm sorry that Oscar was such a bastard yesterday and gossiped about the whole thing." Max looked at me sadly and shook his head. Osc recognized him as a kind and cute boy, just as I am not such a dick. "This hurt me too when I read it, especially that it became a forced situation, if I were in your place I don't even know. I would have screamed and said, damn it, you're right." Sergio caressed my back the whole time, I knew he was the one to tell everyone the truth, just so he wouldn't be in the middle of it. "I understand... Anyway, thank you Sergio, you're in a good position." I leaned back, spread my legs and started shaking them. I could only swallow, I grabbed my water bottle to see if I was thirsty, but I didn't feel like billions of eyes were staring at me and just as many index fingers were pointing at me and just as many mouths were snickering at me, I was doing all this behind my back. "It won't work, I'm sorry, I have to hide this weekend!!!! Coming Out I can't take it!!!!!" I started sobbing, shouted and ran away from them.

"You should apologize to your teammate, Oscar, because you were a mess yesterday, I was an asshole." I saw that Loki was very, very angry with me, I think he should have come out to Lando when he was a love mess in nineteen and twenty. He also started dating a model and also dated a sexy back dancer once, and he openly exchanged it. "Are you in the picture, what's your Lando doing at nineteen and twenty?" "Yes, many people said, but yes, he was a dick and he shouldn't have, especially when he found out when he wanted a threesome, but where Fedrik protested, where Connie protested, and when they found out, they both threw him away with such a short-haired English nobody. They won't start again." He sat down next to me and gave me a faint smile. "I know it happened in his twenties, I read that he was the one who did it"

"Hello, I'm looking for you Lando, can't you see me? I'm Connie Joops. I haven't seen him since 2020” I scratched the back of my neck and sucked on my lips. "He can come back from the press conference now. Third, would you be Connie?” He nodded, the guy looks very sexy to us, but unfortunately engaged. "Yes, my friend Fedrick is also here. Lando will accidentally bring me and my partner together." I lowered my eyes and felt that there was something wrong, but I just wanted to chat with him, "Nothing, thanks for the information." We didn't tell him, but he was right behind him and almost to him... ,,Excuse me... Connie? You?" Yes, we are looking for you and Fedrick, it would be important. When will you be able to have tea with us?",, Now is also a good time. I guess I'll leave you guys alone or something." "No matter where you're thinking, we'd just tell you, look, they're engaged, thanks to you, we can even adopt a baby, just for your signature." I looked at him, those weren't his tears of joy, he was sobbing on my shoulder. "When will I get there? Yes, I am now pregnant with twins, but when will I be engaged? Now I have someone again for a while, but with that fucking bridegroom, I'm the unlucky one who will die alone among cats!!!!"

I chatted with Charles over there, I yelled at him to see if you could see him wrong, but it's not Lando who's crying because he's pregnant, he's crying all the time for no reason. "You're not crying again for no reason, Charles, can you read lips?" "I don't know, you're so stupid, I just said that drunk at a party." "You're an idiot drunk monkey." "You've become a sane know-it-all bastard since you've been my teammate." "Lando!!!!" "And again?" I was caressing Lando's hair while I didn't even notice that Charles was pointing out that I'm an idiot again, so instead I'm dealing with my best friend in the world. "Yes, my two exes, with whom I dated at the end of 2019 and until the middle of 2020, are getting married!!!!!" There he was writhing and almost hysterical, and the newborn Leah came out of her again. ,,No problem and how are you again Leah? You promised you're done fucking with this forever Lando, you're not Leah Norris, you're Lando Norris.” "Leave me alone Carlos!!!!! I'm tired of everyone looking down on me because of my pregnancy and thinking that only girls can be pregnant, you know what, anyone can say anything." I held my face, I couldn't believe what he was saying, this is going to be the top of a scandal, now I'll try to form a good union with him. "What if..." "I say I can't do it, but if the nest piles up on me, I'll need the worms." "That way you don't need a little union!!!" I slapped him, he knows I'm right, he's just too stubborn to see it now.

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2laffy2 · 4 months

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Me: *Randomly watch some genshin impact videos even though I don't play it because i have no patience for the game to get uploaded on my phone*

Me: *look at the fatui Harbinger* Why in the name of the holy Frogs they names are like this *point at Pantalone and Dottore* really who the frog name they Children, Pantalone and Dottore?! (Trousers and Doctor) Omg- 🤣🤣🤣

The Fatui Harbinger be like:

Pierro

〈pieró〉 (or Pierrot) sm, fr. [der. of the name Pierre «Peter»; owner «Pierino»]. – Character from Italian comedy in France, who originally represented the type of the foolish servant, who then moved on to French pantomime, where he gradually took on the character of a pathetic and unlucky lover.

Il dottore

(Unfortunately I can't post more than 10 photos so take this gif of Mr Bean 🙃, you guys can always look for it)

Balanzone, also known as Doctor Balanzone (Dutåur Balanzån in Bolognese), is a mask of Bolognese origin. He belongs to the ranks of the "old men" of commedia dell'arte, sometimes called Doctor Graziano or simply the Doctor.

Native of Bologna, he is the classic "serious", pedantic and presumptuous character. He is a doctor of law: he is in fact the caricature of the learned and pompous Bolognese lawyer. Its very name proves it, in fact Balanzone derives from the Bolognese balanzån, meaning balance, scales, meaning the symbol of the Law. A man with big red cheeks, he has a big belly and usually gesticulates a lot. He wears a small mask that covers only his eyebrows and nose, resting on two large moustaches. His costume represents the dress of the professors of the University of Bologna: black toga, white collar and cuffs, large Bolognese hat, black jacket and cloak. Fussy, quibbling, he finds every little excuse to start one of his endless meaningless speeches. Always ready to boast of his titles, he says he knows every field of human science: right and law first of all, but also history, astrology, philosophy; he talks about these topics in a boring and long-winded way, mixing them into an inextricable tangle. He enjoys a lot of respect among the other masks who often turn to him for legal advice: he does not deny his help but always takes the opportunity to do the thing he likes most: speaking and giving opinions of no value.

Columbina (Colombina)

Colombina is a Venetian mask from the commedia dell'arte, often the object of attention from her master Pantalone and the cause of Harlequin's jealousy.

The only female mask to stand out among so many male characters is Colombina, a lively and clever servant girl. She's lively, pretty, a liar and is from Venice. She is very fond of her equally young and pretty lady, Rosaura, and in order to make her happy she is willing to commit scam after scam.

Arlecchino

Arlecchino (in Bergamo dialect Arlechì) is a Bergamo mask from the commedia dell'arte.

Identified by his colored lozenge costume, his role is usually that of a carefree and cheerful, but also cunning servant, who acts to thwart the plans of his master Pantalone, in cahoots with his friend Brighella, and to pursue his interest loving, Colombina, with wit and resourcefulness. These characteristics make him assimilate to the typical role of the trickster.

(I'm pretty sure that i made a doll of him when i was in elementary school)

Pulcinella

Pulcinella (derived from Puccio d'Aniello, in Neapolitan: Pulecenella) is a Neapolitan mask of the commedia dell'arte.

Pulcinella embodies the Neapolitan plebs, the simplest man, the one who occupies the last place on the social ladder, the man who, despite being aware of his problems, always manages to come out of them with a smile. He is called to represent the soul of the people and their primitive instincts, he almost always appears in contradiction, so much so that he does not have fixed traits: he is rich or poor, he adapts to do all jobs in addition to being a faithful servant, here he is a baker, innkeeper, farmer, thief and seller of miraculous concoctions, he is either arrogant or cowardly, and sometimes presents both traits at the same time by making fun of the powerful. The quality that best distinguishes Pulcinella is his cunning, and it is precisely with his proverbial cunning that he manages to find the ability to solve the most disparate problems that arise before him, but always in favor of the weakest to the detriment of the powerful. Another famous characteristic of his is that of never being able to keep quiet and this is where the expression “pulcinella's secret” comes from, i.e. something that everyone knows. Pulcinella represents a character who has acquired within himself all the symbols and meanings of the popular and peasant world and has brought to all the scenes of Italian theaters, and beyond, a repertoire rich in movements, gestures, acrobatics, typical dances and rituals of the Neapolitan gestural code. In fact, they accompany him on the theater and carnival scenes: the broom, the horn, the cowbells, elements which for the Neapolitans have a propitiatory value and an antidote against the evil eye and jinx.

Scaramouche

Scaramuccia is a mask from the commedia dell'arte, derived from the Captain: boastful and boastful, he dressed in black according to the uniform of the Spaniards stationed in Naples. In truth, however, the mask was born in Naples with the name Scaramuzza, taking on the form Scaramuccia (Tuscan) in the eighteenth century.

(Oh and there is also a film that its called Scaramouche but it doesn't has nothing to do with the mask i think-)

Sandrone

Sandrone (Sandróun in Modenese) is the traditional mask of the city of Modena.

Sandrone represents the peasant of the past, rough, but smart and shrewd. He is the spokesperson of the most humble and mistreated people, and always looking for stratagems to make ends meet.

La signora

No mask found, but translated into English means The lady

Pantalone

Pantalone (in Venetian Pantalón) is a Venetian mask and a character from the commedia dell'arte.

Pantalone initially appears as a vicious old man who undermines the young lovers, the courtesans, more often the servants of the comedy.

represents the typical old, stingy and lustful merchant: his very name is the one typically imposed on the males of the wealthy families of the Serenissima.

Tartaglia

Tartaglia is a mask of the commedia dell'arte, born in Genoa at the beginning of the 1600s. It is similar to that of the doctor, from which it derives.

His main characteristic (hence the name) is stuttering.

Il capitano

The captain is one of the oldest masks of commedia dell'arte.

Reborn in other forms in the Italian theater of the 1500s, he sometimes personified the noble and imaginative soldier or the vainglorious braggart who boasted of titles he did not possess and of deeds never accomplished: in both cases he actually poorly concealed the terror of having to face a battle or a duel, contrary to what he continually stated in words.

Like they are almost all (-La signora) Italian masks for comedies?! I can't take them seriously anymore 🤣🤣🤣

I don't think that they the personalities match those of the masks but idk anything about them soo~ i could be wrong ^^

If you guys are interested in the Lore of the masks you can just look for them or ask me questions about them if i reamber something

Oh and I used the Google translator because I feel lazy right now

#genshin impact #fatui harbingers #I just ruined everything for everyone-#😈#🤣🤣🤣#omg- but really #i feel like they did it on purpose and i am just repeating things making me look stupid #which I already was #🙃

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charles-leclerc-official · 2 months

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On Alex's Beyond The Grid episode that dropped today, there's a part where they joke about how it might be possible for Alex to get a podium.

Tom starts off by saying, "If Max and Lewis take each other out.." and then Alex chimes in and goes "Yeah, Max and Lewis.. and Charles and.." and then blanks.

Of course we know Max and Lewis are two of the best ever drivers, but even among the rest of the grid, Alex immediately thinks of Charles as the only other driver to be a part of that level of talent, and that would get in the way of a podium for him, i.e. if Max, Lewis and Charles are around, they're guaranteed to be ahead. He didn't mention his bff George, or Lando. I'm sure everyone on the grid rates Charles very highly and at the level of talent that he is.

Oh absolutely. The other drivers know exactly how good he is. And we love Alex in this garage <3

But the reason people say he's underrated is the media and broadcasters across so many platforms constantly underestimating Charles and never seeming to recognize that yes he is one of the fastest drivers in the sport currently.

It creates this very jarring disconnect between what you will see written about his performance in sports outlets, and what you hear other drivers saying. We have the world champion constantly talking about how skilled and fast Charles is, we have another multiple WDC saying that Charles is a generational talent. But then you look at how his races are reported and it's like they are not talking about the same driver.

I think part of it is the wider F1 world refuses to accept how unlucky he is and that's why certain results are that way. Sometimes it feels like we are not watching the same races. A lot of people just look at results and don't look at the race at all. They see oh he came in P4, so not as good as the top 3, when that is not representative of the quality of driving at all if you watched the race.

Recent example is how you see people who actually know what they are talking about rate his performance on the Bahrain brake issue, and how the media spun it.

So yes you are right, the other drivers absolutely know, the other teams know. It's the media that really gets it wrong (for so many stupid reasons and biases) It's frustrating sometimes.

And Alex you could get on the podium don't count yourself out baby!

#luci answers

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sprawa-przybyszewskiej · 1 year

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She reserved for herself the full right to her life

A small note at the beginning: the text below was what I presented during my first ever scientific conference this month. The main theme of this event was types of artistic methodology and research, and it was directed at people who knew exactly nothing about Przybyszewska, therefore the readers of this blog probably know all fo this already. I still feel like putting it out there, because I care about spreading awareness of Przybyszewska’s existence and uniqueness any chance I have.

Stanisława Przybyszewska remains to this day relatively unknown, as was the case for the majority of her life. She was painfully aware of it, especially since she has grown up by the side of her mother – Aniela Pająkówna, a celebrated Polish painter – as well as growing up in the shadow of her extremely popular father, Stanisław Przybyszewski, a writer whose fame only few could have matched back in the day. There is no surprise then, that little Stasia from very early on decided not to settle for anything less but to be celebrated as a genius she always felt she was.

Her life was marked by hard work since the very beginning. Given her mother’s unlucky circumstances, she was a witness to how a woman can – and must – survive on her own, with a small help from friends and family, but mostly making living through her own works. It was in a time and place where this much independence was not yet taken for granted for women, and it surely reflects in Stanisława’s later life. Her mother made sure Stasia was extremely well educated when it came down to artistic subjects, taking her to exhibitions (which in the 1910s in Paris were understandably on a very high level) and paying for private lessons in painting and violin; she also always encouraged her to write, and send the fruits of her labours to the distant, mysterious father. Because Aniela was dying from tuberculosis, she made precautions for Stanisława’s fate and secured mentors and guardians from among the family members and close friends, of whom she was sure they would continue pushing her daughter onto the path of greatness.

It did pay off. Stanisława was a very well educated young woman, whose only fault at the time was that she was too interested in too many subjects at once and so she tried her hand at everything, unable to decide on a career path for longer than few months. In her defense, it has to be said that as a child she proved to be brilliant at everything she tried, from painting, through philosophy, to mathematics. Aged 13, she wrote this in a letter to her aunt: Luckily I'm not as bored as I used to be, I found two things to do: [one is] journaling, the second one is easy - […] drawing [passers by]. It requires a lot of craftsmanship, which I would like to train myself to possess. Beside that, I'm studying anatomy for artists and would like to combine fine arts and science, namely electrotechnics and mechanics, but it's almost impossible. I do some sports with monsieur Geroges, namely running, gymnasticks and a bit of fencing. But that in itself isn't much, I don't know enough about fencing yet. Having received her education in various european countries, she spoke several languages and she thought about becoming a painter, a violinist and – naturally – a writer.

While this last choice seems to be heavily influenced by the mysterious on-and-off presence and absence of her father in her life, it was the best one she could have made. Not many of her drawings and paintings have survived, but those which did show off her creativity rather than enormous talent – the later lack of artistry could also be an effect of prolonged morphine usage. The epoch in which Stanisława was growing up was filled to the brim with brilliant painters of both genders (it was a golden age for female painters in Europe, who started gaining artistic and personal independence at a rate unmatched by any previous period in history), the competition was fierce and she surely would not have gained recognition for her visual works. In fact, she knew it herself, having dedicated the entirety of the year 1926 to painting only (setting writing aside, even writing for solely financial purposes as a feuilletonist to a newspaper), but to her dismay, she realised she had not had sufficient talent to lose herself in fine arts. And if she had chosen violin and became a musician, she would not be remembered for much longer after her death. The ephemeric nature of music, especially in times with limited recording technology, would not play in her favour. Thus, choosing literature and theater was the surest way to establish herself as a prodigy.

Due to the lack of family ties she inadverently gained independence at a fairly young age and had to make a living somehow. She tried working as a teacher, later as a secretary and a clerk in a bookshop, but all of these mundane tasks bored her to death. Aware of her exceptional talents, she felt she was wasting away the potential she could exhibit some other way. Luckily for her she did not care for the money – and even more luckily for her, her distant family cared about her and sent her small allowance, just enough to get by. This enabled her to fully immerse herself in the creative process of researching, writing and correcting the texts she wanted to publish.

What were the prevalent factors in making Przybyszewska a great author? In my opinion, a lot of this boils down to strict work ethics. When one takes a glance at her life, it’s clear she was not necesarily predestined to become great: born a bastard, orphaned in young age, betrayed by her father (who sexually abused her, emotionally manipulated her and introduced her to morphine, resulting in her lifelong addcition), widowed after only two years of marriage – none of this set her on an easy path. Were it not for her aunt Helena Barlińska, Przybyszewska would not have suffficient means to live, nor another person to confide in through letters. Because of her reclusivity and uncompromising way of being, she did not have many friends, and she usually managed to lose the ones she had made. It was as if she did not care at all about what others thought of her, or in what conditions she lived in (and these were abymsal), if only she was permitted to work.

After years of being a gifted child, a good student of various schools and private classes, she was well equipped to discipline herself into a literal working machine. This aligned perfectly with her views on humanity and personhood – she maintained a vision of them that was decidedly mechanical, or even robotical. She demanded of herself an inhumane amount of focus, regarding this as the only sure way to achieve greatness. Soon after her husband’s death in 1925 she cut almost all of the ties with the society and set on the path to become an impeccable author the only way she knew how: by putting herself through a regimen of hard work. I shall never be free, do you understand? Never. A succession of twenty-hour day of ever-heavier work until I die. [...] Today I have no personal life anymore. I cease to be a man: human sensibility, human feelings, desire – all these gradually wither and fall away in that hellish temperature of concentrated effort. I am becoming an impersonal, monstrously expanding, inflamed brain. Today I can see what is happening to me because I have time... and I feel strange. said she through words of Robespierre, her most famous character, but she was expressing her personal views on the matter in the same time.

The date that marks a shift from her previous actions (when she still tried numerous „normal” jobs and hoped for a financial independence from her family) is beginning of 1929. It is then that Przybyszewska writes to her aunt for the first time after 3 years long period of silnce: I have decided on what my profession would be. Two years ago; rather early, isn’t it? – I could be a writer, or nothing at all. Because, aside from this, I am not fit to be anything else, not a cook, nor a stenographer. [...] All questions aside, I flirted with literature ever since I was seventeen, but until I was twenty five I had serious doubts. My own works were not trustworthy enough. Now I am certain and will act, not only feel, by it. It means that I reserve for myself the full right to my life – this means Liberty with a capital L – no matter the price. And it is quite steep. Firstly and foremostly, it’s my dignity. And comfort. And safety. [...] I know from experience that one has to have their full powers at their disposal, if one wants to work in a creative field. [...] Therefore I balance myself just above the surface of Hades by means of miraculous acrobatics and divine interventions in the eleventh hour. Ever since this day, she fully proclaimed artistic independence rather than any other – looking at it from another side, her deciding on becoming a writer as her sole occupation, meant becoming a parasite as well, passively preying on her benefactors.

There is no doubt, though, that she took her decision very seriosuly and turned out to be a relentlessly hard worker, which can be proved by her epistolography. She has left as her legacy only a handful of creative works, but it’s letters where her natural talent shone. Thanks to professor Stanisław Helsztyński they were all gathered and published some 30-40 years after her death and can now offer a glimpse into her everyday life. Her life – which consisted of little more than writing and rewriting her own works, or pondering over them; she wrote sometimes about everyday matters, especially political ones, but rarely with genuine interest. Her world was then small and narrow, but incredibly deep to plunge into, which created a perfect space for honing her craft.

It is from her letters that we know what her normal day of work looked like. Her American biographers, Jadwiga Kosicka and Daniel Gerould sum it up this way: The pattern of Przybyszewska’s daily existence was rigorous but dreary: eight to ten hours of serious work (her artistic ‘output’), done almost entirely by night, occasional trips to a nearby grocery store to buy essentials on credit [...] visits to her German doctor Paul Ehmke to ger prescriptions for morphine, without which she could not concentrate or write, ventures out to the tobacco shop to get cigarettes (another addiction), or to the newsstand to buy papers, which she despised but could not stop reading, and rarer outings to the movies (she [...] found film superior to theater [...]). It is worth noting that even if she spent ‘only’ ten hours on the physical act of writing, almsot all of the other actions she undertook during the day were aimed in one way or another at bettering herself as an artist; even morphine she considered absoltely necessary for writing, while she abandoned such ‘luxuries’ (which any other person would consider ‘necesities’ rather) as kerosene for her stove. And in fact, the life described sketches in just few lines how self-denying her existence was.

Another part of a work-oriented life is undeniably studying. In the case of Przybyszewska, whose works were based on a specific period in european history (the Great French Revolution), this aspect was even more important. She researched Robespierre in times when it was in fashion to demonize him in order to jusitify the Dantonists. She studied in depth Albert Mathiez’s history books, the only ones who at least partially spoke to her convictions. Out of all of numerous plays about either the fall of Danton or the fall of Robespierre that had been written up to that point, she was the first to present a thouroughly Robespierre-centric point of view. She felt so misunderstood and alone in this position, she was often frustrated with her studies, but nonetheless, she persisted and almost all of her works depict this period of history.

How was it that a person so completely focused on work alone has produced not much more than what we now know to be her texts? Only three dramas, only one of them celebrated and fully finished. It’s important to say, too, that despite their excellency, she faced refusal after refusal when she tried to show them on stage and during her life time it looked like she would never be able to do it (the only premiere she had she did not even go to, sensing that the director did not do justice to her vision, and the play was taken off stage in a record setting time). A handful of short stories, which were not published in fullness until few years ago. Even lesser amount of sketches and paintings, which were never exhibited at all, and are stored away in the national archives in Poznań, never to be seen. The regimen she put herself through was her final undoing. She kept losing herself in her work, literally going mad whenever her cheap, rusting typewriter was in need of repairs, but did not agree to any help, including medical (after refusing to go to a drug rehab, she lost the last source of income she had). Just like characters from her works, she finally lost the battle of intellect&spirit, and flesh – in this instance: weak, plundered by addiction and malnutrition flesh – finally gave in. She died of an unknown cause, of which the most probable was freezing to death in her own apartment.

#thank you for reading! I know it's not anything exciting for anybody who already knows and likes Przybyszewska #my next text I hope I will be able this month as well and it\sgonna be either about Mary Magdalene-ness of Eleonore #or about the role of grey eminence Saint-Just plays in both dramas #stanisława przbyszewska #stanislawa przybyszewska #przybyszewska #artistic research #reseraching this i also learned a bit about Stanisława's verious siblings and her elder brother seems FASCINATING fr fr

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arithecreatorsstuff · 1 year

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Doubts

Rabbit is uncertain. About her place in the Foundation, what she is, and almost everything. What she's certain of though... is she's sick of doubts.

It's never been a secret to me that I'm not like most people. Sure, I work in the SCP Foundation, which automatically disqualifies me from normality. But even among my peers, I've always felt... anomalous. The fact that I'm probably the only field agent with an interest in psychology is no help. The other agents call me things like "Rabbit the Brain", "Rabbit the Skeptical", and worst... "Doctor Rabbit, PsyD". I can't help having some trust issues, my home life was less than ideal aside from my awesome dad. Mom was... negligent at her best, and outright cruel at her worst. She wasn't into booze or drugs, she was just a total nutter. Used to play horrible little "pranks" like soaking my dress in what felt like stinging nettle extract the day before school photo day. Not that she ever bought the damn things. I itched so much that day my teacher called CPS. The fuzz didn't do much, just warned my mom to cut her shit. She just got more devious.

What led to me coming under Foundation notice was the terrible day I had enough of her crap. I was 15, and I just wanted to be able to *gasp* have a new outfit for my first day in a new school, so I might have a shot at making at least one friend. My mom, however, took this as me acting "like a spoiled little bitch", and locked me in the attic after beating me bloody. I don't remember much, just terrible anger toward my cruel mom, and a sudden sound of screaming. I have no idea what I did to her, exactly. But... let's just say I inadvertently saved my poor dad cremation costs. And nearly burned myself alive in the process. Somehow, I survived.

When the SCP guys found me, I was encased in a huge slab of ice, but alive. I was not, however, what you'd call talkative. I think I tried to knock out two of the poor guys, but I was too weak to do much but collapse. The tests I went through were... not fun. At all. And told both myself and the Foundation nothing we didn't already know. Which is, I'm weird, we all know it, and no one knows what the hell I even am. How I went from detainee to Agent is kinda funny. It started with a Keter breach.

Yet again... some fool looked 096 in the eye, and he went nuts. And my unlucky ass was on my way to containment. Three Security guards were with me when we encountered him, and one screamed. Screamer gets pummeled to death in front of us, Guard 2 draws his gun. And I see the Shy Guy. I'm more curious than scared.

"Hi." Shy Guy looks at me, head tilted. He's not freaking out, a good sign. "You seem a little scared. Me too. This place is creepy. But I don't think you want to hurt anyone." A nod. "How about I walk with you back to your place? This place is huge, very easy to get lost." He blinks. "I promise, if the guards will warn everyone off, no one will see you. Come on, Big Guy. I promise, I'm not going to hurt you."

The Shy Guy nods, and Guard 2 leads the way. Strangely, the anomaly allows me to place a hand on his arm. No further violence happens, and 096 goes back in his unit, no issue.

The two remaining guards look at me strangely after 096 is locked in.

"What the fuck are you, kid? How the fuck did you calm 096 down so fast?"

"Beats the hell out of me, sir. But I think I might be in the place to find out." I sigh. "I take it the big guy is a bit of a problem child?"

"Yeah. But we're used to it. Are you gonna be one too?"

"No sir."

"Good girl. Just to warn you... O5 is going to be very interested in you. Comply if you can, it won't be so bad." We reach my new cell, and I walk in. It's tiny, little more than a bunk, a sink, a commode, and a computer. And cold. I'm walked through all the orientation crap, welcome to life in the D-Class pool, don't expect to survive long. Computer terminal for assignments and requests, yadda yadda.

While my life continues for now... I think I was in orange jumpsuits for less than a week. And then, the training to become an Agent. It was both intense and horrible. But, I endured. Even made a few friends. I still wonder though... if my new friends knew how I got here, would they still like me? Guys like Abel, probably. After all, I'm a fellow freak of nature. But the regular guys, like Dave? People can be so cruel to those unlike them. Breaks my heart sometimes.

Speaking of cruelty, I'm wondering if some of the Foundation's methods are... less than great. I realize that everything here is dangerous, and that protocol exists for a reason, but... do we really have to be assholes about it? It kinda seems like O5 wants certain anomalies always angry, but for what reason? Are they, like my dear Doctor says, just refuse disposal for the Foundation? Seems like it in the case of 682. Any troublesome D-Class soon find themselves on a lunch date with the demented mostly undead crossbreed of Kirby and Godzilla, but as an entrée. Or a training dummy for Abel. Or any number of worse fates. And I'm not great with how they treat my fellow anomalies sometimes either. All 053 wants is a friend, what's so wrong with that? She may be strange, but she's still a kid. O5 won't even let me bring in my cat for her. Not much of a childhood, if you ask me. She's never even seen snow, I bet. Don't get me started about 110-Montauk. If that's what it takes to save reality, perhaps we should just let it go.

Amazingly, the Foundation somehow hasn't found out about this page. So far. Will they mind I have it? Probably. Do I care? Not at all. O5 isn't too worried about one employee page, and I'm careful. Benefits of having a few hacker friends. Besides, it's not like I'm giving away all our secrets. Hell, I've barely scratched the surface of weird here. I don't know how deep the rabbit hole goes, but I'll keep digging. That's what a rabbit does, dig. I might not get exactly the answers I want, but knowing something is better than knowing nothing. I may die, but... at least I tried. And if my death makes a difference, I'm fine with it.

#scp foundation #tales from site redacted #agent rabbit

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measuringbliss · 4 months

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Spider-Man Read-Through 043: "Oh no! Super-heroes!" (SSM 16-18)

MASTERPOST

Today?

A cop, an angel, homoeroticism, and Spidey's most vicious enemy...

The Beetle.

Before we begin with the storyline, let's check out reader's letters!

Well, that clears some things up. First, people are still complaining that the mag doesn't live to its name, and you know I completely agree, but it seems like things are going to be better in a few issues. We'll see!

There's also the matter of the big fish in Peter's flat! It was a mistake after all, he doesn't have two different fishes. I feel serene now.

I also agree that the treatment of Peter and Flash's friendship was excellent in the last batch (particularly its first issue, which I noted).

I don't mind the lack of intertwining: I'm fine if both mags have their own storyline. I actually enjoy it! Spectacular had the Sha-Shan plot, and Amazing had the mystery of who took pictures of Peter and his clone. The latter in particular was stretched very thin, as in, you wouldn't hear anything for many issues, then it would appear. At least, when Wein concluded his storyline, it was extremely good, dare I say great, but compare this to the more involving plots of previous eras.

I'm curious to see what this new era will bring.

SO.

Our story begins with a cop, Macone, doing heroics to catch a bad guy with Spidey's discreet help. Eager to get a picture of the new celebrity, Jameson entrusts Peter with the task to go to his place.

Mary Ann just doesn't get it, man! The appointment is short, and Peter quickly concludes that he never imagined being a cop or married to one could be so difficult. Shh, no one mention that cops are among the most abusive partners, Naive Peter could not handle such a reveal.

Meanwhile, the Beetle tries very hard to make me believe it's a good villain and is focused on stealing something from a precinct house. Soon, the whole city is ablaze with various thieveries and other commotions. Only one cop stays at the precinct...

Uh-oh.

The beetle tries to retrieve an item there, but Spidey's there to stop him.

As he's being thrown around, Spidey ponders on the fact that he cares about May's health and gives gifts to his friends on Christmas to make us believe the magazine cares about Peter's secondary cast.

Wanting to help our beloved hero, Macone mixes water with heroin to throw the result at the Beetle. He quickly gets yeeted, but it's always nice to see people help Spidey in battle. Or. Help him at all.

*sigh* I feel like I know where this is going.

...Except I don't, because Macone doesn't die! There he is, a few days later, telling the whole city that the attache-case the Beetle was after contained fake money. OoOh!

That's actually a great ending to this issue. I kind of enjoyed it! Macone is surprisingly neat.

Onto #17! This time, the action is set in California. That's right, we're going to Sunnydale, guys!

"Palm trees and 80 degrees in January?! I'm going to come down with a cold--I can feel it!"

Okay, so guys, I was mindfucked for a minute. I thought Peter had missed his 9 am plane flight for Los Angeles and had thus done NY->LA by swinging and ARRIVED AT 10 AM THERE.

I was like, "IN WHAT WORLD DOES THIS MAKE SENSE?!" and turns out it didn't and I had to read more carefully.

Looking at it though, it looks nice to just take a bus and get lost in the US wilderness... aaah, I think I should replay Life is Strange: True Colors!

Peter's unlucky though, he's barely set his foot there when he has to be saved by X-Men Angel!

Turns out Peter was sent to take pictures of the Champions before they got disbanded... but he's too late! Furthermore, his camera just got broken!

However, Angel, who's a rich guy (Warren Worthington doesn't sound like the common people to be fair), pays him a new one. He's nice!

I gather that Bobby Drake's comphet runs deep.

Damn, he was almost the original Jean Grey, outing people without their consent! Careful, Angel!

Warren says everybody left, but Spidey has a feeling he was lying, at least about Iceman's disappearance. Hmm!

And he was right to be cautious!

Fighting ensues.

I presume it his Bobby under the mask, considering his gay tendencies are put on display here (good for him).

And I'm proven right essentially right here and there. The homoerotic tension between Angel and Iceman is something I didn't expect, but it's definitely there and I enjoy it.

In #18, while Clarke has been knocked down by the almighty power of electricity, Iceman is still a menace.

This is the second time Bobby calls Warren "daddy". Make of that what you will.

The fight continues and one driver has the best reaction ever.

Spidey is an ally!

Anyway, we don't care about all that, because in New York, at ESU...

Good for them, I guess!

For maximal immersion, picture that there's two pages of commercials before that terrible cliffhanger gets resolved... in the best way, actually.

Yes yes yes! I'm very happy to see him again.

The last page touts that next issue features a "mystery". I'm eager to see what it is, but I have to lower my expectations because these never end up being satisfying, hahaha

In the next post: Peter graduates! Can't miss that now, can we? I'm actually curious to see the aftermath of the Green Goblin arc.

To close out this post, I'd like to share a comment that I found fascinating.

Yes, it really is.

#peter parker #spider-man #comics #comic books #x-men

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dykeminecraft · 7 months

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could play town of salem ig but like. rounds on that take a While and there is No pausing because it's all online. & given how the game works you can't exactly tuck yourself into a corner & get up to use the bathroom or w/e

my luck with Very Quickly (like a minute or two) stepping away from that game is that i am Always dead when i come back. either a random vote gets called and i'm the unlucky fucker who gets called, or someone fucking Gets Me during the night phase, so. does not go well

i have the second game too but that one has new roles & rules and it's Late and i don't. feel like learning how to lie with a whole new set of mechanics Right now thanks

(for context TOS is similar in base concept to among us, you have evil roles & innocent roles, & the evil ones have to go undetected as long as possible to win. except there is no task system, so the only way for a group to win is by...getting rid of anything that prevents that. the only way for innocent characters to kill is if they have a mechanic that lets them do so (vigilante, jailor (<- scary fucker), etc etc). but daytime phase comes with voting which. if someone gets voted guilty by Any majority then they get executed & this Can happen to innocent people in any given game you'll usually have a majority of innocent characters, w a chunk of evils & a handful of neutral. but you start off not knowing anyone else's role* & have to figure it out, and the evil roles can (and i have, many times, it's one of the most reliable ways to survive) lie their way into the town's good books. *with the exception of a couple specific factions, anyway)

#thorn post #if you give me a moment i will get a screenshot of the roles #actually i think there may have been a mod for the one game based around TOS but

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captains-simp · 3 years

Text

(Not me accidentally posting this when it was half done)

I knew I could count on you @wndrcarol for a jock!Carol request🥳 also....👀I heard you like Sharon

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

1.9k words

Warnings: harassment, degrading, face slapping, strap on sex, spitting, choking and hints of overstimulation

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You groaned in frustration when you finished checking the kitchen for your girlfriend. Everytime you went to a party with her the same thing happened.

You'd arrive, take a while to get comfortable and as soon as you did Carol would be whisked away by her friends leaving you to stand awkwardly in the corner. You really needed to get more friends. The ones you had never seemed to come to those parties.

You wandered outside onto the wooden decking area to get some fresh air and leant against the fence as you lazily scanned the area for Carol. You knew she wasn't out there, you had already checked.

Your eyes landed on a brunet who had been watching you carefully but the moment you locked eyes he scurried away back inside, not wanting to be seen near you. You smiled at the memory of the last time you had met at a party.

"There was only 10 seconds of the game left but I kicked the ball as hard as I could and it was on the last second of the game that it scored and we won!" Tyler exclaimed before taking another sip of his bear and gleamed at the memory.

"That's great." You said as you continued to scan the room for Carol.

"It was, you should'a been there." Tyler said as he looked back at you, or more he looked above the line of your low hanging top. You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.

"I was at Carol's game." Tyler didn't react to the mention of your girlfriend. It wasn't like he didn't know you were dating, everyone knew. Carol made sure of that.

"Unlucky, mine was a lot more interesting." He declared with a smug grin. A brief memory of Carol fucking you in the showers after that game flashed through your mind and you couldn't contain your smile at knowing how wrong the guy infront of you was.

Unfortunately, he thought that smile was at him.

"I had a pretty great game before that too. But it's getting kinda loud in here, wanna go somewhere more private?" He smirked in an extremely unattractive way.

"I'm good, I need to go find Carol." You said quickly, wanting to get the hell away from Tyler.

You hadn't seen Carol in a while. It was her idea to go to the party, it was an environment she thrived in. You, however, did not. It wasn't your scene and you didn't know anyone there, not well at least.

At some point through the mass of bodies, loud music and numerous people trying to get Carol to do shots with them or be on their beer pong team, you had been seperated from the Captain and you hadn't seen her since.

"Come on, I'm sure there's some spare rooms upstairs." There was a slight slur to his voice that made it even worse when he approached you and put a heavy hand on your waist.

"Get off me, Tyler!" You snapped and pushed his hand away but he continued with a frown.

"What? Don't you want this-" He was cut off when a fist shot out beside you and punched him across the face. Tyler staggered back, gripping his bleeding nose, as the people around you cheered loudly, oblivious to what had happened prior.

"Get your fucking hands off my girlfriend." Carol demanded as she continued to advance towards a cowarding Tyler who could only hold his hands out in defence. You pulled Carol away with to turn her towards you and Tyler scrambled to his feet to flee.

"Are you okay?" Concerned and familiar eyes met yours that instantly eased your worry. Carol brought her hands gently up to your face as she scanned you closely and you were surprised to see that she looked completely sober.

You nodded your head and breathed out a yes before you took her right hand away from your face to examine it carefully. The dull lighting in the room made it hard to make out but you could feel that there was nothing out of place.

"Come on." Carol said as she took your hand. "Let's get out of here."

Tyler had a bandage across his nose for a while. He had avoided you like the plague ever since, clearly have some sense in him.

"Want some company?" Came a voice from beside you. You glanced sideways and saw Sharon fall easily into place next to you. She mirrored your position of leaning against the barrier and gave you a knowing smile.

"Thanks." You breathed out, feeling kind of embarrassed someone had noticed Carol always seemed to ditch you at parties.

"No luck finding the girlfriend?" Sharon teased.

"Is it that obvious?" You asked but weren't sure you really wanted to know.

"You look like a lost puppy without her." Sharon chuckled making you flush. Maybe you were too clingy.

"She's the golden retriever lesbian." You corrected making Sharon laugh more.

"That seems about right." She went to move closer to you but a group of jocks spilled out onto the decking, without Carol among them.

"Fuck this." She huffed and took your hand to lead you over to the garden swing bench. Your hand felt like it was burning when she held it to pull you along. Although her hands were physically soft, they weren't the kind of softness you felt with Carol. It didn't make you feel warm inside, it made you feel uneasy. But it was a party, you had to hold onto people to move about.

Part of your brain pointed out that there was only a few people in the garden so there was really no need for Sharon to navigate you through it, while the rest of you really did just want some company.

Sharon sat down on the bench and you followed, feeling as though you could relax a bit more on the edge of the garden.

"You know, I think Carol's a very lucky gal to have you." Sharon said as she watched you closely. You laughed nervously as you noticed how close she was. You found yourself searching the garden for Carol again but Sharon lighting held your jaw and turned it back towards her.

"Pretty thing like you must surely be a lot of fun to play with." She smirked as her other hand crept onto your thigh.

"Um I d-don't-"

"Shh, you don't need to talk." Sharon cooed as she tilted your chin up more when you struggled to keep eye contact. The blonde glanced at your lips and licked her own before leaning forward slowly.

Until a strong hand wrapped itself around your bicep and yanked you from the bench.

You stumbled into a fuming blonde who was glaring at Sharon. You blushed deeply as you realised how it looked at what Sharon was most likely trying to do.

"You keep your fucking hands off of my girlfriend, Carter." Carol spat as her fists clenched.

"You really shouldn't leave her unattended?" Sharon said, amused by Carol's anger. "Who knows what could have happened." She winked at you and looked away instantly.

Carol scoffed simply as she continued to glare daggers at the woman infront of you.

"In your fucking dreams, she's mine." She all but growled as she pulled you away. You yelped as you felt her nails dig into your skin but didn't have the nerve to ask her to loosen her grip.

Carol pulled you through the crowded house and up to an empty bedroom that she shoved you inside.

"Did you enjoy that? Whoring yourself out to Sharon?" Carol asked as she threw you to the bed and started undoing her belt.

"No I-" You started as you went to sit up but Carol put a firm hand to your chest and pushed you back flat against the bed.

"Shut up, slut. I don't want to hear another sound out of you unless you're saying my name." She warned as she pulled her strap out and pulled your panties down.

You looked at her wide eyed, never seeing her so worked up before sex. Sure, you'd have a lot of needy, desperate sex and the occasional quickly, but she never showed so little regard to you before.

"What? Think I'm going to be nice to you and take my time? Want me to touch you gently? Whores don't deserve to be treated nicely. You don't get to prep my cock either." Carol taunted as she pushed the tip of the head in and kept it there as she stared down at you. "You'll have to just take it how it is, not that you'll have much of an issue. You've always got such a sloppy cunt."

"Please, Captain." You found yourself whining earning you a harsh slap to your left cheek. Your head whipped to the side and your cheek burned but Carol didn't seem to care.

"Who are you begging to fuck you?" Carol asked as she rocked her hips slowly as a reminder that you only had the very tip inside you.

"You Carol, I want my Captain's cock!" You cried out desperately.

"Only mine?" The blonde mused as she inched a bit more of the strap in.

"Yes Carol, only your cock. I only want you." You whined truthfully. Carol knew that of course, she knew you were incredibly loyal. That's what made the game so fun.

"Please! Please Carol I need you so bad. I want my Captain deep inside me, please please." You begged and felt as though you could cry in frustration.

"You really know how to plead like a whore, don't you. Did you learn that somewhere? Or are you just a natural cock slut?" She asked as she slammed her hips forward and filed you up with the strap at every angle.

You moaned loudly and threw your head back against the pillows as Carol set about her harsh and unrelenting pace. The thick strap filled you up entirely with every thrust. It didn't take long for your eyed to water from the sheer amount of pleasure she was giving to you so roughly.

Carol grunted as she pounded the strap into you and her grip on your wrists tightened, letting you know she wouldn't let go anytime soon.

"See? You've got such a sloppy pussy. And it's all mine." Carol spoke as she glanced down to look at your pussy taking her strap so well.

"You're gonna cum for me now. You're going to cum all over my cock." Carol demanded as she noticed your signs of approaching orgasm.

You cried out at the force of each of Carol's thrusts until it became too much to bear and you crashed over the edge without much to hold on to. As you did so, Carol brought her hand up and wrapped it tightly around your throat before giving it a quick squeeze.

"You belong to me, slut." Carol said as she continued thrusting mercilessly. She noted your blissed expression and open mouth and gripped your jaw tightly, much rougher than Sharon had. She pulled your face down with your mouth still open and spat. You moaned as you tasted her saliva on your tongue and around your lips. You swallowed it eagerly making Carol beam internally, not that she could let you know that.

"Cum again for me whore. I get to do what I want with you. So you're going to keep cuming until I get bored. I don't give a fuck if you get tired." She spoke next to your ear, poison dripping from her words.

"So fucking cum."

#carol danvers #captain marvel #brie larson #captain marvel imagines #captain marvel x reader #carol danvers x reader #carol danvers imagines #marvel #captain marvel smut #carol danvers smut #jock!carol danvers #jock!carol

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onsunnyside · 2 years

Note

hi friend! do you have anything new to share about the alternative version of your hcv? any spoilers or little scraps?? i'm TOO excited for all of arcadia's main boys to terrorize one unlucky omega. i stg you've done such a fantastic job with this au.

hi bestie !! I've been waiting for an ask like this so let's see: major spoilers, drabble-ish, general thots/ideas for the alternative version in HCV

I haven't decided if it's going to be naive!reader, but it isn't going to be that whole 'truth or dare' trope (although they may play the party game later hehe). overall, you're a new student at Howard College, having just moved to the city after living in the rural farmland with your grandparents. now, you're with your parents since they've finally got a stable and steady income to support you living with them and in college. this is where the innocence *COULD* come in, you haven't been to the city in years, so used to online school, weekly farmers market trips and hanging out at the old barn with your two close friends (who are hours and hours away now). you're thrown into the face-paced life of bus rides and subway trains, busy with long lectures and getting lost on the giant campus.

this new start also introduces you to the greek life at Howard College with sororities, fraternities and the hell weeks and parties you've only seen in movies. it doesn't take long for people to 'adopt' you into their groups, one in particular, a selection of friendly and funny girls from Kappa Phi, the sister sorority to Arcadia Phi.

this is where some major differences pop out bc we're going the 'omegas are rare' route !! for the sake of 3+ alphas mating with one omega bc yes, that's how it's going to end. (you're literally never going to get away from them👁👁)

the Arcadia Alphas, boy... do they prey on you like a sweet little rabbit in the middle of the forest.

one of the boys drop by the Kappa house, then see you sitting pretty on their couch, "New pledge?"

"New student. She doesn't want to join."

"Hey, that isn't what I said." You pout.

"Kappa would treat you good," the alpha flashes a charming smile, "It's basically the golden ticket for you girls."

"He's right." Natasha grins teasingly, nudging you gently, "Say hi, kitten."

"Kitten?"

You feel heat rush to your cheeks, "that isn't my name," then, you tell him your name, quickly looking away from his intense eyes.

"Why kitten?"

"It's an embarrassing story..." which is when you first met the redhead, jumping out of your skin as she sat down across from you in the library, knocking over your drink and getting a nasty bruise on your knee. just a jumpy, easily scared little kitten, and that nickname has spread among your friend group.

little do you know, that same alpha brings that nickname back to his frat bros, talking about the sweet omega that somehow flew under their radar. the obsession starts pretty quickly, you meet them soon after (haven't decided how) and boom !! fate sealed without your knowledge !!

they stalk you, creeping around, intimidating/even fighting other alphas/betas interested in you as the uneasiness crawls up your spine, but you chalk it up to the new environment. they have plenty of conversations about you, establishing a system of sorts to keep track of where you are, who you're with and even down to your clothes for the day. they collect info about you, soon enough they know everything 😳😳 including that white diary you carry around everywhere (hint: along with just general entries, you write about your crushes in there and fully gush the handsome fellas who always stop by the Kappa house). since omegas are rare and Howard College has only got a handful of them, the boys haven't 'had' one in a while, so they jump at the fresh meat which is you ofc.

the word on campus is that the new student is Arcadia property 😳 it's blatantly clear how unlucky this blessing of yours is. and everyone just watches as the unsuspecting omega is unknowingly courted by the baddest of the bad, campus gods with the most successful/brightest futures ahead of them.

I think this alternative version may be two parts for some world building, and character establishing. plus dark!alphas ?? the manipulation !! the toxicity and possessiveness !! the possibilities are endless.

please note that all of this can change at any time and so, when the actual fic comes out, it will be different !! nothing is set in stone. these are just general ideas that I currently have, and I want it to differ from the other fics of the HCV collection, so stay tuned bc I'm open to all ideas !

#hc ask #tw dark #hc drabble #kalopsia: idea #kalopsia: about #kalopsia: fluff #kalopsia ask #kalopsia drabble

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