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vivwritesfics · 7 months

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Rookie Season - OP81

Oscar and Y/N hate each other, until they don't

"And that's Y/N L/N in the AlphaTauri in the points!" The commentator shouted as Y/N crossed the finish line in P9.

"Woo!" She shouted down the radio. "Fuck yeah!"

"That's brilliant, Y/N, first points of the season," said her engineer.

"We did it! We did it!" She continued to shouted. "We'll be celebrating tonight, boys!"

It was her debut season on Formula One, after having milled about in Formuma 2 for a couple of years. She'd moved up with her good friend Logan and her old rival Oscar.

She and Oscar. Where were they to begin?

They weren't like other rivals, where they left it all on the track. They really really hated each other. In F2, they were always fighting each other for places, sending the other off the track and going into each others sides. Their fights cost their teams way too much in damages, somebody needed to intervine.

When Oscar got bumped up into McLaren, Y/Ns team thought all of their problems were solved. Y/N could race without fighting Oscar every lap.

But then Y/N announced her addition to Scuderia AlphaTauri F1 team. Still, it came as a relief to her old F2 team. She may still have been battling Oscar, but it wasn't on their dime.

At the start of the season, when Y/N and Oscar was at the back of the grid, things were messy. Y/N had to DNF once because of him and Oscar almost had to because of her.

"Hey asshole, thanks for that one," she said with a sarcastic grin as she interrupted his interview once upon a time.

Netflix was going to have a field day with them.

Now they were towards the end of the season, Y/N and Oscar were no longer fighting each other. Oscar was fighting with the likes of Max Verstappen while Y/N was in the mid field, fighting in an underperforming car.

She missed him.

No, not him. She didn't miss Oscar, not one bit. But she did miss the fighting they would do.

"How did Piastri do?" She asked as she followed Fernando Alonso into the pit lane.

For a moment, Y/N's engineer didn't answer her. She waited, ready to prompt him again, when he answered. "Uh, P3 for Piastri," her engineer answered, somewhat hesitantly.

"Of fucking course," Y/N muttered under her breath as she climbed out of the car.

***

Watching Oscar on the podium. It hurt, but Y/N didn't show it on her face. There was no denying he was a good driver, he wouldn't be in F1 otherwise. She should have been up there with him, though.

No, not with him. She didn't want to be on the podium with Oscar. She should have been on the podium instead of him.

That night, they went out. Most drivers had nothing to do on the Monday so they went out to blow off steam from the race. Well, those frustrated (which now included Y/N) went out to blow off steam, the rest went out to celebrate.

It was Max, the McLaren boys, the AlphaTauri drivers, the Ferrari boys, Daniel, Fernando, Alex, and the Alpine pair.

Y/N spent most of the night dancing with Esteban or Daniel, singing along to the songs and simply going crazy. At one point Fernando had her on his shoulders as he passed a shot up to her.

A little bit after midnight, Y/N went t the bar to get herself another drink. She leaned against the counter, card tapping against the counter top.

But she wasn't alone. No. The very man she hated stood beside her, ready to order his own drinks.

"Fuck you!" She shouted, her words slurring, but Oscar couldn't hear her over the music.

He held out his hand, waited for Y/N to take it and then pulled her in close. "Congratulations on the points," he shouted into her ear, but Y/N could barely hear it.

"Good job on the podium," she replied equally as loud, wearing a scowl as she did so.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

But Y/N didn't hear that. Her scowl turned to a frown as she stared at him, but Oscar ordered her a drink anyway. He passed it to Y/N, who looked at it suspiciously. But Oscar wasn't like that. He wasn't that kind of person. As much as Y/N didn't like him, he wasn't a bad person.

She thanked him, although he couldn't much hear, and turned to find Esteban and Fernando once again. But they were gone, nowhere to be found. It was hard to lose Esteban, since he was so damn tall, but Y/N couldn't see him anywhere.

"Shit," she muttered under her breath and turned back to the Aussie.

There were two important rules Y/N followed when she went on a night out. Keep your drink covered and stay with your friends. She had her hand over the top of her cup as she approached Oscar again.

Wrapping her arms around her neck, she pulled him down so that her mouth was level with his ear. "Can I stay with you? Everybody else has disappeared!"

Oscar nodded his head as he stood up straight.

He wrapped his arm around her and led her over to the dance floor.

At first, Y/N was awkward. She wasn't quite letting loose as much as she was with the others. This was Oscar, her rival on and off the track. She just swayed as she looked at him, an uncomfortable smile on her face.

Have you ever been in the club when your favourite song comes on? How absolutely feral you go? Jumping up and down and shouting the lyrics? That was exactly what happened to Y/N.

She was bobbing her head and swaying when the last song finished up. And then her favourite song came on. Y/N's eyes went wide. She jumped along to the melody and shouted the lyrics at Oscar, who was more than happy to indulge her.

Throughout the night, Y/N and Oscar danced and dank and sang. They went on through the night, dancing until the club was shutting and their feet hurt.

Oscar took Y/N home. He practically had her over his shoulder as he got her back to the hotel room. She'd be hungover for her flight tomorrow, Oscar thought as he took her key card and let her into her room.

***

The last thing Y/N remembered was losing her friends and getting on the dance floor with Oscar. Her head was pounding as she woke up, the light coming through her open window blinding. "Shit," she grumbled and put her arm over her aching eyes.

For five minutes Y/N did nothing. She laid there, trying her best not to throw up. And then her alarm went off, the one that gave her twenty minutes to get her things ready before the car came to pick her up and take her to the airport.

Her movements were sluggish as she packed away her things and made her way out of the hotel room. Sunglasses covered her eyes, the lights from the hallway far too bright for her liking.

"Oh my God," muttered Yuki as he met her in the lobby of the hotel. They were travelling together, since they were such good friends and both heading home to Milton Keynes. "You look fucking horrible."

"Thanks, Yuk's. That makes me feel fantastic."

"How late did you stay out?"

Y/N shrugged her shoulders. "Until the place closed, same as you,"

A laugh left Yuki's lips. She really was in a sorry state. "We left way before it closed, Y/N. You with Oscar so we left you there. Are you guys friends yet?"

That was a good question - one Y/N didn't have an answer for. If she and Oscar had become friends during the night, she didn't remember it. And she couldn't ask him about it now, could she?

There would be nothing more embarrassing then calling up Oscar and asking him everything that happened the night before. Y/N was pretty sure she hadn't done anything too bad. She was pretty sure she hadn't confessed her love for him while they danced, pressed up against each other. She was pretty sure she didn't love him.

Love him? No, they were rivals. Rivals don't fall in love. That isn't how the story goes, not in real life, anyway.

There was a good two weeks Y/N didn't have to see Oscar. A blissful two weeks that Y/N spent at home in Milton Keynes. Those two weeks were filled with training and sim racing, Y/N practicing for the next grand prix.

In those two weeks she didn't think about Oscar once.

Okay, that's a lie. She couldn't help herself from thinking about Oscar, about the last time she saw him, about how much she couldn't remember. Would it really be such a bad thing if they weren't enemies? Would it really be so hard to try and get along with him?

Having a rival wasn't much fun. Sure, it was entertaining for the fans, but it was a miserable existence for those actually involved. A rivalry meant that every time Y/N saw him on the track, this horrible, nasty feeling would bubble up inside of her.

It seemed, though, like Y/N wasn't the only one thinking about this. It seemed like this was just playing on her mind.

Y/N turned her phone off, after that. She and Oscar weren't rivals anymore, but they weren't exactly friends.

Oscar texted her some more, but Y/N didn't answer them. It was such a shift in dynamics, she wasn't sure what she was supposed to do. She didn't text Oscar back, didn't know what she was supposed to say to him now.

Y/N didn't stop thinking about him, though. Actually, things just got worse. She couldn't stop thinking about his eyes, his hands, his lips. The way his eyes would almost close when he laughed, that resting sort of scowl he wore as he walked around. It wasn't a proper scowl, just the way his lip would slightly curl whenever he was doing anything or nothing.

Y/N didn't know what to expect from the next grand prix. She and Oscar always had to do the press conferences together. They'd sit on opposite ends of the couch, the only questions being sent their way being about their rivalry.

When the press conference was over, Y/N made her way outside, into the fresh air. Still, she and Oscar were getting asked about their rivalry, the rivalry that didn't exist. She didn't answer any questions that day, letting Oscar do it instead.

"Hey!" Oscar called as Y/N marched away.

Stopping, she spun on her heel to face him. "What, Oscar? What do you want?"

As usual, Oscar were that scowl, the one Y/N knew not to take too seriously. When he looked at her, his stance was tense. But Oscar dropped it as he looked at her. "Nothing," he muttered as he shook his head. "Forget about it."

With his head down, Oscar turned to walk away. Guilt settled in the pit of Y/N's stomach. They weren't rivals anymore; she didn't have to treat him like such shit.

"Oscar, wait!" She called as she walked after him, reaching over to grab his wrist.

Suddenly they were close, stood closer than they had before. Especially while they were sober. Oscar stared down at her, unmoving, unwilling to walk away. Y/N stared up at him, at that scowl he still wore.

And then she was moving, body moving forward until she was pressing her lips to his. There were probably cameras on them, either Netflix or Sky or some other form of media. The drivers they'd been in the press conference with, who were going to walk back to their garages until they saw Y/N and Oscar and the potential argument about to happen.

Oscar kept his hands at his sides as Y/N moved hers up to his neck. Her eyes were closed; she couldn't see what was happening. But then she felt hands on the side of her face, holding her there as they kissed.

Oh, they definitely weren't rivals anymore. Were they still even friends? Y/N didn't know. The only she did know was that she didn't want to stop kissing him.

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shidouryusm · 8 months

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𓆩♡𓆪✿༝༚༝༚-> tending to gojo satoru when he's sick and you're lovesick

Satoru x gn!reader

1.5k (Y'all shouldn't even be fazed atp im mentally ill ofc I'll write like crazy)

content- fluff, sick!gojo, banters, mentions of death (but not in any angsty way), too corny for its own good.

a.n -> this is way too self-indulgent. I just plastered a piece of my daily delusions with satoru in words. hope y'all will enjoy this little piece mwuah. I'm so lovesick for this idiot im not even embarrassed. a ginormous kiss to @stsgluver and @planetnini for proofreading and nini fixing all the little things. she is my second pair of eyes :3

Gojo Satoru. The strongest sorcerer of his age. The man bestowed with Six Eyes and Limitless, literally untouchable with a millimeter of radius separating him from the physicality of the world. The absolute one man army — is currently whining with a wet towel wrapped around his forehead, rolling over the bed with a mere fever.

“Baby, I think I’ve reached my end. We gotta prepare for my funeral” Satoru mumbles groggily, his eyes partly covered with a damp towel.

“Don’t just say anything, ‘Toru.” you hum, sitting by his side as you massage his head over the towel. He whines with his hands wrapped around your waist, nudging you closer to him.

Your boyfriend has always been an overdramatic nuisance in regards to everything ; a little too spoiled for his own good and a concealed face from the world that always yearns to be babied by you. Yet you cave, almost 9 out of 10 times, for how unconditionally lovable he is and manages to be everytime.

As of now – when he’s all theatrical with a cold fever, lips jutted in a small pout. Face scrunched up — which is scrunching a bit more…his forehead crinkles and nostrils flare-

“ANCHEWWWWW-”

His upper body jolts off the bed from the intensity, spraying droplets of sneeze in the air, the towel from his forehead dropping down to his lap.

You crinkle your nose momentarily from the two second snot hurricane that he just spewed everywhere but you continue to rub gentle circles on his broad back.

His body slumps into the mattress again as you put the towel back on his forehead. Toru shakes his head, “I'm telling you, baby. This is your final moment to write an obituary for me– how your boyfriend was the strongest as he stood resilient against the invisible sickness, and he stepped into the endless journey to the afterworld with the pretty face, hot body-”

“”Toru, do you ever shut up?”

“No I don't. I thought you knew” he pouts before sniffling audibly due to the cold.

You roll your eyes, exhaling a sigh. Nearly impossible to fight against him, even when he's knocked down in the bed. Rather, you decide to run your hands through his snowy white hairs, all splayed out on the mattress. He basks in the touch of your soft hands, humming gently.

“A millions of curses failed to do that and you think a simple virus would? That’s pretty underperforming coming from you, don’t you think, ‘Toru?” you quip amusedly, earning a little scowl from the man.

“Curses are child’s play for me. Your boyfriend isn’t the strongest for no reason.” Satoru grumbles.

“Yet can’t deal with a cold?”

“Now. I can’t fight biology, can I?” a hint of indignance in his voice.

You chuckle as you pinch his cheek,“Just playing with you, sicko boy.” you ruffle his hair before idly playing with them again, your fingers threading through the strands like some soft cushion.

The moment stills into the air with comfortable silence except from the little sniffles Satoru is occasionally letting out. You take in the beauty of this quietude.

The room lits with the mellowy rays of the sun – the slanted, golden beams cutting through the white blinds as it bounces off the white walls, leaving a warm brightness around.

The dust particles dance along the reflecting light on one of the corners and little chirps of birds outside melts into the air. There’s an endless blue casted on the sky and a remarkable silence veils you that is nothing but homely to revel in.

Moments like this are hard to catch like those dusts under the sunlight but living through them feels nothing less than walking into a dream and experiencing every minute humane feelings.

Every note of inanimate objects mixed with the soft song of nature makes your heart bloom with gratitude for feeling through them, especially with Satoru … despite how beat up with fever he may look right now.

You look at your sleeping boyfriend, his face morphing into an expression of comfort and content. Lips partly open to breath due to his congested nose. His chest heaves from the breaths and one of his arms strew across your lap, keeping the warmth of your body close to him.

You marvel at the effortless beauty this man possesses.

Even with a nasty cold, loose t-shirt, sniffling nose and disheveled hair, he managed to look like the most beautiful boy in the world.

Your beautiful boy.

Trailing your hands down his cheek, you gently cup them in your hands, your thumb runs over the rosy swell of his cheek, moving up to his eyelids. his snowy eyelashes brush against the pads of your thumb while you tenderly caress them.

“So beautiful…” you whisper into the air, looking at his sleeping figure with utmost fondness. Completely in awe with your ability to love him to the point of stretching infinity.

Hearing the two words escape your mouth, Satoru couldn’t help but break out of his character. His broad hands wrap around your wrist and he opens eyes with a squint, adjusting to the brightness. A teasing grin breaking out in his face. “Hehe, heard you~” his cerulean eyes brightens on seeing you a little flustered.

Way to ruin the tranquility of the moment.

He pulls your wrist close to his mouth, delicately kissing the inside of your palm, “You know, it’s not bad. I could definitely use some of that kindness every once in a while.” Satoru hums.

“What are you talking about? I didn’t say anything” you feign innocence, not really knowing why you feel the need to deny it.

“Mmhmm. Sure. I just heard voices in my head” he hums sardonically, his hands still tangled with yours.

“Yes. you were dreaming. Fever dreams are pretty common in illnesses.” you counter.

Biting back at Satoru’s remarks was second nature to you, regardless of how lame the topic has to be. As if it’s like the very first time you both have met, setting foot into the relationship with little remarks. The spark that never extinguished in your conversations: of the banters that never goes amiss.

One of the constants in the ever changing wave of your relationship with Satoru. The relief from the turmoil the serious jujutsu world throws at you both.

“anything else, dr.google? the way you are forgetting things you did two seconds back, it’s you who needs to get checked. You were making the most googly eyes at me I’ve ever seen” you gasp, smacking his chest lightly, pulling away your hand from his grasp.

“You’re gonna pass the sickness to me from your mouth, and for the record– I didn’t.” you scoff in defiance, clutching your hand away from him.

“Is this how you treat a sick person? I am wounded, baby,” mock hurt dripping from his words before he starts laughing. His laughter contagiously induces a chortle from you too.

The sound fills the room to the brim as if you guys weren’t cross talking just a minute back.

“That is so childish, why hide? Just accept you were being lovesick” Satoru adds. The laughter dies down a little and he’s back with his armor of words.

“You’re so impossible, ‘Toru. how would you know whether I made googly eyes or not? Your eyes were closed.”

“So you did make googly eyes, for you to be saying that? Such lame comeback. A bit underperforming. coming from you, don’t you think, baby?” he grins, tossing your own words back to you.

You narrow your eyes at him, fighting the urge to bite back your words, knowing the more you will drag it, Satoru will play along.

“Sometimes I feel the only response is to strangle you. What happened to you feeling sick to the point of death? Isn’t it affecting you right now?” you scorn. playfully so.

“Talking to you is the way to my recovery, baby. Your words bring me back from sickness. feel my heart– it’s so alive” Satoru grins like he replied with the most appealing answer ever.

He takes your hand, putting it over his chest. The murmurs of his heartbeat right underneath your palm.

“Well that was repulsive and corny.” you wrinkle your nose. yet, planting your hands right where he kept it.

the feel of his sturdy chest and soft thuds of heart soothes you. He's insufferable but nothing would have you trade such fleeting moments with him.

“Doesn’t matter when I’m hot.” Satoru mutters, his face inches from yours as his nose nudges the side of your cheek.

He’s not wrong but you’d be damned to accept that right now.

“We both know who’s bringing the hotness in this relationship.” you turn around and flick his forehead, getting up from the bed to bring him his medications.

“Yes, it’s me. I am literally quite hot right now”

“Whatever floats your boat, babe", you chuckle. The sound of your laughter ebbing into the hallway as you walk out of the door and Satoru couldn’t feel any more healed.

a.n.2-> if I'm being dead honest to y'all, I intended to make it angsty as fuck by turning the whole thing as a flashback reader has after gojo died 💀💀 but I will spare myself and others for this time.

comments, likes, reblogs are appreciated

tagging : @stsgluver , @kuroosexuall @shotorus + @satoruhour @hannzai + any of my gojo girlies im amnesiac baby i actually forgot yikes

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dreamtuna · 6 months

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Laid Bare By Moonlight

It's finally done, I've slain the beast. And I'm pretty happy with it. This is a piece I've been working on for a while now and I just kept editing it over and over. But I'm finally letting it out. I'm a bit nervous about this one lmao but I enjoyed writing this a lot and I hope you guys enjoy it too! And yeah I'll probably write a sequel because I want to know what happens next. Attack on Titan - Levi x fem!Reader, Levi x Unknown Woman smut, afab!Reader, listening through wall (without their knowledge), masturbation, jealousy, slight obsession tbh, walked in on/caught in the act, but okay with it! pretty enthusiastic about it honestly, shame, praise, begging, oral (fem receiving), Reader is a bit of a subby mess and she loves it, very brief mentions of threesome and cum eating fantasies Word Count: 4.9k On a sleepless moonlit night you don't expect to be kept awake by your Captain, but this is what happens when you forget to lock your door.

The darkness wrapped around you but sleep refused to come. No matter how hard you tossed and turned, there was no comfort and there was no rest, that much was clear. The frustration pooled in your body. You were exhausted, body weary from pushing extra hard in training lately. It was tough these days to think of much else except for your chronic underperformance. And now the stress of it all was eating away at your sleep. It seemed to have become a self feeding monster.

You threw your legs out of bed and walked across the room to the window. The moonlight had been bleeding through the thin curtains anyway, so you felt you might as well enjoy it fully if sleep wasn’t going to come and take you away. You pulled them back to bathe the room in it.

You returned to your bed, eyes drifting across the room at the empty one directly opposite. Most people envied you, having a room to yourself. You had the freedom to make a mess, the freedom to stay up late if needed, the freedom to have night time visits. But your room was spotless, you were usually in bed at a decent time and you hadn’t had a single partner since you joined the regiment. You’d just been too busy, too preoccupied with putting everything into this and proving you could do it.

Now look where that had landed you: alone in the middle of the night, insomnia gripping you by the throat and refusing to let go.

You heard a door open as the occupant of the next room returned for the night. It was rare to hear considering he would usually choose to sleep at his desk instead of in his bed. But sleep was never the purpose.

A light, floaty giggle travelled through the walls. Yeah, there it was. The stress relief. Captain Levi was not alone.

Now you were alone with your thoughts and the hushed excitement of some girl next door, muffled sounds drifting through the wall. Was that his boots being removed? Was that her body on the bed? Was that his on top of her? You couldn’t help it, your mind began to wander. Sitting with your back against the wall, you closed your eyes and listened.

Maybe you should’ve picked the other bed when you took this room.

You knew this was wrong. Only a wall separated you. You couldn’t hear much, but you could hear enough. You could hear the bed strain under their joint weight as they moved into positions you could only imagine. You could hear her moan loud and sudden as he, most likely, inserted himself into her, wasting no time. You could hear Levi hush her harshly, cutting off the objections which followed in what you could only imagine must be a rough kiss. And you could feel your hands drifting down your body as your lips opened in a silent gasp, your back arching slightly off the wall, imagining him slick with her excitement as he thrust in and out of her, as your fingertips danced over your light sleepwear.

You knew this was wrong. He was your Captain. But you had been attracted to him for as long as you knew of his existence, overflowing with excitement when you were picked to train under him. And as you heard the bed groan rhythmically under his thrusts you couldn’t help but crave being under him right now, a toxin beginning to flow through your veins. Jealousy clouded your judgement and your fingers worked their way under the waistband of your shorts.

You gingerly reached for your warmth, almost scared of what you might find, as if you weren’t already aware of how turned on you were. Your clothing did nothing to muffle the obscene noises your fingers made as you ran them up and down your slit, playing with your wetness before swirling them over your clit. Your back arched further as you touched the bundle of nerves, your desire and jealousy intertwining dangerously as you heard this faceless girl taking what you wanted. Biting down to suppress the building dark pleasure that wanted to rise out of your throat, you listened intently as the object of your desires gave her everything that should have been yours.

You almost scoffed. You were just another cadet to him. A promising one, sure, that’s why you had been picked to work under him, but just a cadet in his eyes nonetheless. He didn’t seem the type to mix business and pleasure, instead opting for these infrequent meetings with nameless women he likely never thought about again.

You wanted to be one of them so badly.

The cool night air caressed you, a much welcome feeling as your body began to heat up. Your free hand snaked up your stomach, pushing your t-shirt up to expose your breasts. You squeezed, pinching your nipple as you heard her cry out next door. She was getting close. Even to you it was obvious. The Captain had given up on hushing her but she seemed muffled. You thought about his firm hand clamped over her mouth, scowling down at her as he drove her closer and closer to climax.

It was too much. You needed more.

In a sudden movement you pulled your shorts off completely. Desperation overtook you, throwing yourself down on the bed, imagining his hands pushing you down, holding you in place. He would grab your legs, pushing your knees into your chest and exposing you completely… all for him. Much like she probably was right now. You pinched your nipple harshly, your pussy tingling as the dark wave of envy consumed you. Finally, you pressed first one finger, then a second, into your eager hole.

You had barely inserted the second when you realised the loud groan of pleasure you were hearing was actually coming from you.

You froze. Surely you hadn’t been that loud. It just seemed loud because you were the one who did it, right? The bed continued slamming into the wall separating you and you let out the breath you didn’t realise you had been holding. Deciding you were safe, you began to move your fingers in and out. Slowly, you savoured the feeling, the pleasant intrusion taking but a moment to get used to. You tried to match the rhythm of the bed next door, but it felt entirely insufficient. All you could think about was Levi’s cock driving in and out of her, coated in her wetness. A desperate part of you wanted so badly to be on your knees, watching them up close. You would wait patiently, mouth open like he expected of you, tongue ready to clean them both up. You wouldn’t resist when he’d pull out and push your face into her, commanding you to lick every last drop of his cum from inside of her. You wanted to do anything to please him.

The moonlight covered your body, your most intimate places only just shadowed by your knees pressed to your chest. It felt good, like you were in some kind of spotlight just for him. You writhed and you could no longer control your moans as they rose above your audible wetness. Sure, you had heard the Captain fuck once or twice before. It was a rare occurrence and you couldn’t begrudge a man under that much stress for indulging in his desires. You would usually just roll over and try to ignore the noises and the growing damp spot in your underwear. You’d spend the whole night dreaming of him and all the things he could do to you. But you never gave into your feelings like this.

Maybe the moon is affecting me, you thought, mind wandering hazily to the idea the full moon could affect your mental state. Through clouded eyes you stared out the window into the night sky, fingers never slowing. The only thing on your mind was how your Captain would look above you in that pale light, hair stuck gently to his brow with sweat, eyes an almost ghostly silver. In that moment you were convinced there could not be anything more magnificent.

Suddenly you snapped back to reality. The room next door was quiet now. Had you missed the end of the show? Whatever the case was, you still had your own needs to attend to. Unlike her, you didn’t have anyone to deliver you an orgasm on a silver platter. The more you thought about how you’d missed out on him slamming deep inside her, releasing with a grunt as her insides pulsed and milked him, the closer you got to falling off the edge of that cliff.

A moan tore from your throat, masking a faint sound you couldn’t quite place in the back of your mind. That was until you heard your door close a moment later. You gasped, freezing in place, vulnerable and exposed on your back with your legs in the air, fingers curled inside your entrance, hand barely covering your chest.

“You should really lock the door.”

Your body went ice cold. That voice. No, it couldn’t be. You were too anxious to move or cover yourself. You were too anxious to even look towards the door and confirm your fears. You didn’t understand what was going on. Blushing a furious shade of red - thankfully not very visible in the moonlight - you reluctantly tore your eyes away from the window, slowly turning to gaze across the room.

After a moment, the voice spoke again. “Do you want me to leave?” No, your mind pleaded, don’t leave. But you couldn’t respond. “I can leave and we pretend this never happened.”

Finally your eyes fell directly on him. Levi stood there, face unreadable in the shadows. But he was clearly staring straight at you. Embarrassment flooded your entire being at the thought of being seen like this, especially by him. You could no longer even form words in your panicked mind.

“Do you want me to leave?” he asked again. His voice was gentle, wrapping around you seductively.

Your voice shook, but you managed to get out a quiet “no”. You cleared your throat and repeated yourself as strongly as you could. “Stay,” you pleaded, voice thick with desire, knowing it was your lust speaking but it didn’t change the fact that this was something you craved so deeply.

He seemed satisfied with this and walked slowly across the room until he stood above you. He placed one hand softly on your knee, stroking back and forth across your bare skin as he stared down at you. You couldn’t see his expression like this, but he could see almost all of you. Ironically, only your lewd position saved you from exposing everything to him.

“Don’t stop,” he told you.

You blinked up at him. “W-what?”

Levi leaned forwards, placing his hands on the bed either side of your face. Your breath caught in your throat.

“I said don’t stop.”

With a start you realised what he meant. Inhaling sharply, you began working your fingers inside you again. You felt your cheeks heat up instantly at the sound of your fingers plunging into you. You wanted to look away from him, but he was watching you so intently it felt wrong not to hold his gaze. He’d caught you at your most vulnerable, and your desperation was clawing at you to get out. You wanted to please him. Your mouth opened slightly as your breathing picked up and the slightest smirk appeared on his features.

“You think I didn’t hear you moan before?” he said quietly. His voice held something in it that you couldn’t quite identify now, but it wasn’t malicious or menacing. It was stern, the type of voice that demanded respect, but yet it had that same warm edge to it as you’d heard when he first came in. “Can’t believe you’ve been lying here getting off listening to me fuck.”

You gasped at hearing it said out loud, the way he practically spat the word at you, your face flushing even deeper. You had to look away from him now. You couldn’t handle the shame as it washed over you as you felt yourself getting wetter with every word. You were even beginning to whimper now, the feelings intensifying with his warmth just above you.

He grabbed your chin, turning you to face him once again. Your eyes locked. There was a power in that gaze that you couldn’t resist, one that had you tumbling down and down into him, ready to give him everything as you had dreamed of for so long. And you knew, when you were consumed by those eyes, that he would gladly take everything you had to offer.

“What do you want?” he asked you, but you had no way of answering that. Your mind was going blank again as the pleasure rose. You knew if you opened your mouth now it would be an incoherent pleading. You had just enough dignity left to want to avoid that. Barely.

He pulled back, his hand returning to your knee to stroke it softly. You moaned at the sudden contact, fingers jerking inside you. You couldn’t believe you were behaving this way at even the lightest of touches. It was pathetic. Your insides squeezed tightly around your fingers. Your skin was on fire, desperate to feel him against you.

“Tell me what you want.”

It was no longer a question. It was not a request.

With great difficulty, you swallowed hard. Closing your eyes you took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. Everything felt crazy, like this was just some super vivid dream. It had to be. But his touch felt so real. His skin was rough against yours, neatly trimmed nails barely grazing against you from time to time.

Eventually, you managed to answer him in the smallest voice. “Please touch me.”

He didn’t need telling twice. Instantly he shifted, moving to sit on the bed between your legs, angling himself so he could appreciate your body in the light. Instincts kicked in and you began to squeeze your legs shut, shame threatening to overcome you, but his hands gripped your knees, firmly. Levi spread your legs and gazed down at your half naked body, eyes roaming you hungrily from your breasts right down to where your fingers still toyed with your juices.

In the moonlight you could see now his hair was mussed, the tips lightly dampened from the sweat of his previous exertions. The sheen of sweat was mostly gone, but you felt that bitter jealousy rising throughout you at the way his skin glistened, making him look ethereal. He’d pulled a shirt on, the top few buttons undone, his collarbones enticing you. You didn’t even notice as your tongue darted out to wet your lips at the sight of them, your hunger to cover them with a bouquet of nips and kisses growing.

You realised he must have literally finished with her, dressed and come straight through to you. The thought made your stomach flutter, an odd mixture between indignation and a deep dark pride at being next on his list tonight. Vaguely, your mind wandered to thinking about whether this was something he regularly did.

Levi ran his hands over your legs, jolting you out of your thoughts, holding them open so he could enjoy the show you were putting on for him. There was something intoxicating about the way he watched your fingers work. He stared intently at the glistening digits as they withdrew from within you, the light barely catching them now your knees were being held out of the way. He sat quietly like this for a moment. The only sound between you was your light panting and your own juices, almost deafening in the silence.

He leaned forward between your legs, sliding his hands up your thighs and onto your stomach before cupping your breasts. He squeezed gently, a warm strength wrapping around you, toying with your nipple ever so lightly. He worked his way down, planting the lightest kiss on your stomach. His body intermittently touched against your hand. You wondered if that was deliberate, your fingers pushing deeper inside you whenever he did.

You couldn’t hold back your thoughts any longer. “What happened with her?” you asked in a hoarse voice.

Levi paused, face hovering above your stomach. He looked up at you, sharp eyes connecting with yours. His eyebrows furrowed slightly.

“I told her to leave.”

He said it like it was so simple, so obvious. Is that why you hadn’t heard anything? He’d just stopped? Or did he mean he had finished and immediately dismissed her? He watched you, eyes narrowing as he realised you were still digesting his words.

He sighed. “After I heard you she just didn’t feel the same to me anymore.” After a long pause he asked, “Does that make you uncomfortable?”

You shook your head. You felt weird, but you weren’t exactly uncomfortable with it. Had you somehow stolen him away from her? All you were doing was masturbating to the sound of your Captain slamming his hips into a mystery woman without his knowledge when you may have let out a loud moan - what was so wrong with that? Well, it sounded kinda messed up when you put it that way. The whole thing was messed up, what with him appearing in your door. Your head was still reeling from it. A part of you said you should’ve shooed him away instantly, but the way his hands played with your tits was melting away any lingering doubt you may have had. You had wanted him so much, and now here he was. Were you really going to squander this chance? His lips pressing against your stomach again had you forgetting all about what was okay and what wasn’t. You pushed your stomach up towards him, craving more, moaning lightly for him.

“Ah, yeah, that’s the sound,” he whispered into your skin.

His voice sounded strained. He gave your nipple a sharp pinch, eliciting a gasp from you, and then did it again for good measure. Your nipples were starting to get so sensitive from both his pinching and the attention you had given them earlier. His weight shifted on the bed and suddenly he was leaning right over you. He pushed his body gently down onto you, staring into your eyes as he did so. You could feel his bulge through his pants as he pressed into your hand slightly.

Levi kissed you. Delicate at first, your lips touching for only a second, but it didn’t take long before you had both devolved to desperately pushing against each other. His tongue worked its way into your willing mouth, claiming you as his own. You moaned into his mouth and you swear you could feel him twitch against the back of your hand.

A thought crossed your mind. Carefully you pulled your fingers out of yourself, shifting your arm enough to grab your Captain’s cock through his pants. You stroked him gently. He nipped at your bottom lip. He was straining against his pants, his hips thrusting erratically into your hand almost as if it were a subconscious reaction to your touch. You could feel the change in his breathing as he kissed you.

Your fingers fumbled to undo his pants but with only one hand it was difficult. You started to reach down but he grasped your wrist. He promptly found your other wrist and brought them together above your head, pinning you to the bed. You whimpered. This was starting to feel a lot like your fantasies.

He pulled back from your lips for a moment. In the moonlight you could just see the glint of his steely eyes as he looked at you. Without a word he lifted himself off you, but before you could whine about losing contact you found his lips descending on your sensitive buds. Working first one nipple, then the other, lathering them with sloppy attention until his teeth lightly nipped. Levi kissed and licked your breasts, smothering them with soft, sweet sensations before adding in more sharp little bites. You moaned for him, arching your back to push your breast into his mouth. But he pushed you back down. With a loud wet kiss to each breast, he began to work his way further down your body.

You were in heaven. No one had ever made you feel this way before. No one had ever shown your body so much consideration. You’d been with others before, and some of them had attempted foreplay, but the keyword there was “attempted”. After a while it all just devolved into grunting into one another and hoping their motions would be enough to satisfy you. They never were. But this was different. Levi hadn’t even taken his clothes off yet and you felt close to the edge of something huge that had you gripping the covers in anticipation as you moaned for him. You knew the second his lips made their way lower there was a good chance you would just shatter into pieces underneath him.

His lips trailed soft kisses along your hips. You were still in disbelief at what was happening, but oh God did you believe it when you threw your head back and moaned his name as his lips descended on your clit. He immediately felt the way you were quivering and pulled back.

“Not yet,” he told you, firmly squeezing your thighs where his hands had come to rest, holding you open for him.

You whimpered, but that stern warmth of his voice had you willing to do your best for him, wrapping around and pulling you into submission.

You glanced up from your pillow. You could see his eyes looking up at you, awaiting confirmation of your obedience. You nodded in understanding and he kissed your mound.

“Good girl,” he whispered, sending jolts of electricity up through your body until they pierced your soul.

Knowing how sensitive you were, Levi was very careful with his touch. He pressed his forearm under your thighs, pressing your knees into your chest. You’d had your legs in the air so long they were beginning to ache, but there wasn’t a chance in hell you were about to complain. Especially not as his other hand made its way to take over for your earlier incomplete job. His fingers ran up and down your slit, admiring the way they would glide over you with how wet you were for him. Not messing around, he inserted two fingers straight into you and was instantly rewarded with you tightening around them, a whimper escaping you.

His lips came back down on your clit, sucking and licking at the bundle of nerves as his fingers began to pump in and out of you. He wasn’t gentle, but there was a certain care in his actions that made you feel safe. Maybe it was just your desire to orgasm tricking you into feeling that way. It really didn’t matter all that much to you what it was, it just felt good.

Levi enjoyed the way you whimpered for him. He wanted more of it until he was drowning in the sweet sounds you were making for him. But he could feel you reaching your limit. You were trying so hard to hold on for him. He could feel it in the way you tensed. He could hear it in how obnoxiously loud your pussy was. He pulled his fingers out of you slowly, savouring the way they glistened with your juices in the moonlight. He licked them clean, eyes closing as your flavour engulfed him.

When he was done his lips were wet with the taste of you.

“You’re being such a good girl for me,” he praised you, fingers working their way back inside. This time he got to feel that jolt of electricity those two words sent through you as you clenched around him. “Yeah, you want more of that?”

You whimpered louder now. The desperation was clear. You didn’t need to nod for him to know, but seeing the way you frantically bobbed your head up and down had a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. The control he had over your pleasure was intoxicating.

“I can’t hear you. Do you want to cum or not?”

He lightly swatted at your ass. You groaned loudly, feeling your dignity slipping away with each second. You felt yourself almost lose it and immediately, despite the fog of arousal, it was clear in your head what you wanted.

You mumbled something.

“Hmm?”

“Please… Want to cum…”

“Tch, that’s no way to ask for what you want.” His fingers arched up inside you briefly, hitting that sensitive spot for the first time. It felt like your whole body jerked upwards as you cried out.

“Please, Captain…” You sobbed slightly now, your dignity all but gone now. If you could only actually get the words out.

He seemed pleased with your efforts, stroking that sweet spot again as a reward. It was too much. You were going to cum either way, you might as well please him at the same time.

“Please, Captain, oh fuck. Please let me cum.” You choked back a sob. “Please, I can’t hold it. Please.”

A low groan rolled out of him. For a second the rhythm of his fingers faltered in you. He wasn’t expecting your begging to be that sweet, but oh how he adored it. He placed a sloppy kiss on your clit, enjoying the sharp gasp it drew from you.

“Cum for me,” he whispered, words ghosting over the bundle of nerves. “Cum for your Captain.”

His tongue danced around you, fingers now pressing relentlessly into that sweet spot no one else had ever found. He sucked noisily on you, alternating between suction and sweet kisses and lapping tongue. It was driving you insane and within seconds of this assault you were falling apart beneath him, your moans so loud, so beautiful, that there was no way half the barracks hadn’t heard you this time. You pulsated around his fingers as they found their home deep inside you, playing with the nerves inside that made your body tremble beneath him.

When you had finally reduced to a whimpering mess he withdrew from you. He sat back and looked at his hand, covered in your love.

“Oi, look at me and open your mouth,” he ordered and through your hazy brain you obeyed without question.

Levi shoved his hand at your face. You got the message and eagerly took his fingers into your mouth, sucking and licking him clean almost hungrily in a way that made his cock throb in his pants. You were so far gone at this point, your inner desires carrying you now. You would do so much for this man if he only asked it of you. He made you weak, and after that you knew he could make you feel better than anything else in this world.

You so desperately wanted to hear him call you a good girl again.

He pulled his hand back and, much to your surprise, he lay down next to you. He pulled you into his arms, resting your head against his chest. You were stunned, letting him manipulate your body however he wanted.

“You did so well,” he whispered into your ear, kissing your hair gently. “Rest.”

“But you haven’t cum,” you blurted out, fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt not really knowing what to think or feel right now.

His sweet chuckle only made you more confused. A noise you never thought you’d hear from him of all people. But there it was, followed by yet another brief kiss to your hair.

“Rest,” he repeated. “You can look after me when you get your breath back.”

After a moment the tensions in your body eased and you let yourself get comfortable in his arms. You couldn’t get it out of your mind how uncomfortable he must be having had no relief, but his thumb was making soothing sweeps across your bare back, your top still pulled up above your breasts so that your nipples grazed against the fabric of his shirt. Your hips were gently touching. His warmth was engulfing you.

The more he held you and gently pet you the more you found yourself sinking into that sleep you so desperately desired before all this started. You were a complete mess, heart only just coming under control, head swirling with endless thoughts about what had just happened. You decided to take up his offer of rest for just a while longer, trying desperately to remove all those doubts that were creeping back up from your mind.

Because in that moment, none of that mattered. The only things that mattered were his warmth and his gentle breathing beside you. The way his thumbs continued rubbing your bare back, soothing you endlessly. The way his bulge rubbed gently against you. It wouldn’t take long before he’d have you on your knees taking care of him, you were sure of it, but for now you could just melt into his body. His lips grazed against your hair again and you gripped onto his shirt a little tighter, sighing happily, stress and anxiety easing in your heart, even if just for a little while.

#ah FUCK i'm so happy to post this #levi ackerman #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #levi ackerman smut #attack on titan smut #n.sfw #dream writes #dream writes: oneshot

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 7 days

Text

Two of a Kind 7

Masterlist

NO TAGS. Don't ask.

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; manipulation; criminal behaviour; cumplay/creampie, talk of contraception; written for smut, just being honest. Not all elements will be tagged/warned.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. It features dark!Ransom Drysdale and dark!Modern Charles Blackwood. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: Ransom and Charles are partner’s in crime but they’re looking for some pleasure after years of business.

Note: :)

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya.

Charles helps the girl stand. She's shaking like a leaf as she covers her stomach with her free arm. She tries to hide her vee behind her hand as she leans on him heavily. The feel of her trembling makes his dick twitch.

"Should just drive her home," Ransom speaks around the stogie.

"You're always such a prick," Charles chuckles. He knows Ransom just likes to see the girls squirm. "Come on, baby, nice hot bath for you since you did so good."

"Since you're so fucking tight," Ransom sneers.

She sniffles as Charles slings his arm under hers and leads her past the shameless man puffing grey smoke into the air, "I told you not to do that inside."

"I opened a window."

Charles issues him a dull look and a shake of the head as he continues past. She leans into him as her feet slap on the floor clumsily. If he wasn’t holding onto her, she’d collapse. He can tell. She’s weak. It’s getting him going again.

He brings her into the bathroom as she murmurs, her head lolling forward. Fuck he is goddamn hard again. Twice already and he’s ready to blow. He’s no underperformer but he can’t remember the last time he was like this. Insatiable, as many described him in most matters.

He flips up the toilet lid around her and sits her down. He pets her head as she slumps.

“You should go, clear everything out or you might get an infection,” he lets his fingers drag over her shoulder, “we don’t want that, do we?”

She nods, he thinks. She’s half-bent over her lap as she grips her head. As the soft trickle hits the toilet seat, she sinks further into shame. As drunk as she is, she’s still self-conscious. Even after he was just in her guts.

Stop. He looks down at his bobbing dick. It’s starting to fucking hurt and his head isn’t making it any better.

He goes to the tub and cranks on the four-pronged faucets. The house is not the nicest place he’s been in but he likes the bathroom. Deep tub, lots of counter space, big mirrors. He glances over his shoulder at the mirrors the cover the expanse of one wall above the floating counter. He could fuck her in front of them, make her watch herself.

Later. He has to reprimand himself as he did Ransom. Don’t wanna break the girl. Not yet.

He puts the stopper in place and stands. He goes to her and helps her up, pausing to flush the toilet behind her. He as good as carries her to the tub and lifts her over the edge. He reclines her against the back and she stares up with glassy eyes.

He stands and watches her. She suddenly spasms as a sob erupts from her. She gulps as the tears spring forth and she blather uncontrollably. He touches her shoulder. It’s the alcohol, it makes everything feel much more intense.

“Shh, baby, you’re alright,” he comforts.

Her eyes drift over then fall down to his pulsing erection. He’s suddenly very self-aware as his tip presses to his stomach. He stands straight as she shields herself with a weak hand.

“I can’t... please, no more,” she begs.

"Shh, honey," he coos, the pet name surprising even him. She just seems so pathetic.

He backs up and grabs a towel. He covers himself and nears the tub once more. Maybe it was a bit too much. Well, she's fucked up enough it won't be that bad in the morning.

"Do you like tea?" He asks. She nods and wipes her face. "Alright, I'll get you some."

He retreats and stops at the door, glancing back at her. Hm.

"Ransom!" He hollers as he comes out into the hall, "get your ass in here."

The other man appears at the end of the hall and struts down in a pair of silk boxers. He could roll his eyes at him. Sometimes he thinks he's working with a moron. Well, the man would be an easy mark, especially with his grandfather's legacy. Not the time, Charles.

"Keep an eye on her so she doesn't go under." Ransom scoffs as he approaches, "fucked her silly."

"Sure," he taps Ransom's arm with his knuckles. "The last thing we need is a dead girl."

"Mm, nope, she's lively, huh? The way she whined..."

Charles clears his throat as his balls ache, "yeah. Anyway, watch her, will ya?"

Ransom clucks but steps into the doorway. He leans on the frame and narrows his eyes at the girl, his hand going to his hip. That's the biggest problem. Ransom doesn't know when to stop.

"Just watch," Charles warns, "she's had enough."

"Man, I think she had enough at the first knuckle," Ransom brings his fingers up to sniff, "didn't stop us before."

"Hey, we didn't put in all this work for one night, alright? I don't got the energy and I know you don't either," Charles huffs, "you wanna keep buying bimbos drinks down at Lights? No. We get her on lock and it's easy. Stress relief."

Ransom snickers and peers at the girl again, "she is fucking... tight."

"Hm, yeah," he agrees. "I'll be back."

Charles goes to the kitchen and sighs. Goddamn he is hard. He can hardly remember what he was doing.

Tea. Right. Yeah. It'll calm her down. If they even have any.

👄

You shiver as the cool air tingles over your shoulders. The hot water contrasts the chill as you languish in the deep tub. You stare at the ceiling, vaguely aware of voices, filled with dread at what they'll do next.

A shadow moves into the room and you look over warily. It's Ransom. He leans on the counter as he watches you. You stare back, waiting for it, bracing for more pain. He doesn't move.

"Consider yourself lucky, babe," he chuckles, "not a lot of girls pop their cherry on something that big." You tremble and turn forward, embarrassed. "I know it's huge, the way you were squirming, but you're also..." he makes a sucking noise, "tight as shit."

"Why... why are you doing this?" You sniffle.

"Babe, babe, why did I choose you? Why did I spend my money, my time on a girl no one gives a second look to? Huh. You should be thanking me," he sneers, "and what do you got now? All the sweet little act means nothing if you're not a virgin. You're just another slut now."

"No," you shake your head and sit up, hiding your face. "I'm not--"

"You are. You just took two men at once. Who the fuck does that but a slut like you? But babe, we don't gotta throw you out. Not if you keep being a good little slut for us. I mean," he nears the side of the tub, "no one else is gonna want a used hole."

You whimper and hang your head, folding your arms over it as you bend your knees under your elbow. He's right. You're used and dirty. You hear another set of footsteps and another shadow darkens the edge of your vision. Ransom backs up and snorts.

"What's going on?" Charles asks.

"Nothing, we were just talking," Ransom says, "she was just saying how much fun she had."

Charles clucks as you frown and lift your head. The brunette shoulders around the blond and comes to you with a mug. Steam coils from the brim.

"How about we get you out and you can wait for it to cool in bed? All comfy?"

"Jesus, Charlie, she's not a fucking baby."

"Shut up," Charles snaps back, "she did a real good job and she earned it," he sets the mug down on the short stool near the tub, "isn't that right, baby? So good. So you wanna get out and have your tea and get some rest, right? You take care of us, we take care of you."

Your lip quivers as you stare at him. You're dizzy and dazed and dumb. You don't understand why this is happening. You're a nice person. You nod. Thinking is only making your head hurt worse. Charles helps you out of the the tub and grabs another towel to wrap you in. He brings it around your shoulders and squeezes before he turns to drape his arm around you.

"Come on, you wanna sleep in my room?" He coos.

You just sniff and wipe your raw cheek again. He takes you down the hall and opens a door, taking you inside. He flips on the lights and sits you on the edge of the king bad within. You stay there as he shifts around the room. He returns and replaces the towel with a shirt. You thank him. Why did you do that? Thank you? After everything.

He guides you to lay against the pillows. The bed smells like him, a hint of citrus and sweat. Your eyes are glued to the ceiling as he leaves you. Your trance breaks only as a cup clinks down loudly.

You blink as a weight dips beside you. You wince as Charles pulls the blanket out from under you then over you. You shake and puts his hand on your arm. It makes you still, somewhat soothing yet startling all the same.

“Drink your tea, honey,” he caresses your arm as he nestles closer.

#charles blackwood #ransom drysdale #dark ransom drysdale #dark charles blackwood #dark!charles blackwood #dark!ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #charles blackwood x reader #knives out #we have always lived in the castle #drabble #series #two of a kind #au #multifandom

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brf-rumortrackinganon · 1 month

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Hello, I was reading about the popularity aspect of H&M's delusions but I'm so surprised.

I wonder how Meghan could seriously think she would be a better royal ? Like, she didn't know british culture at all, and she was already clashing with some courtiers before the wedding, even before the engagement. That seems to me that it was a walking failure, how didn't she see it ?

More, the popularity is such a weak argument. Not only Charles is now King while beong less popular than his heir but at the time while being less popular than Harry, Catherine was already selling more than him. Even today a front cover with her will sell more. And in 2018 it seems to me that memorabilias of Louis' birth sold better than memorabilias of their wedding, so much that there wasn't even memorabilias made for Archie's birth. And William's words are taken more seriously. Like Harry says so much stupid things that goes into oblivion because in the greats scheme of things, no one cares but William's words are listened to and everyone want to have an opinion on it. So even with being more popular they were not more useful to UK's economy or soft power than Catherine and William.

How can someone be so much delusional to think it would work ?

I was in London in July 2018. Louis's new baby souvenirs were gone. Eugenie and Jack's wedding memorabilia was selling at a steady clip. Harry and Meghan's wedding collection was grossly marked down and not moving at all. I spoke to a shop assistant about how the sales were going and she said that the Sussex merch had drastically underperformed (i.e., the demand they expected was not there at all); so much so that smaller collections were ordered for Eugenie's wedding and those smaller collections were outselling what was left of the Sussexes.

As for why Meghan thought she could be a better royal - she completely bought into the "workshy Kate" criticism. All of her early PR was literally a point-by-point response to what people were complaining about Kate: she focuses too much on her clothes, she doesn't work enough, she's too shy, she doesn't like the media, she can't speak in public, she's too dependent on William, she's from a rich family what does she know about normal struggles, she has help, etc.

I suspect learning who the real Kate was is part of the culture shock Meghan had when she transplanted to the UK. Meghan probably assumed that she'd be competing with Media Punching Bag Kate for attention but when she got here and met the real Kate - Catalina de Medici / Catherine the Steel Marshmallow Daughter of Carole Middleton Kate, if you will - it was a rude awakening that she couldn't deal with and resorted to mean girl bullying tactics to force Kate back into the "Media Punching Bag Kate" role that Meghan's entire plan for royal success was contingent upon.

#ask #brf #sussexes #waleses

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charseraph · 1 year

Text

From left to right:

Bongspider, a homebody crown. He rejects connection as a possibility for himself.

An earthling boxkite aspiring to climb the corporate ladder. She spends most of her income on accessibility equipment, like all landlocked boxkites. She burns herself out often, since she can’t afford to underperform at the rate her superiors have seen her start at.

Her partner, a small online influencer, collects shoes and showcases them for revenue to supplement his partner’s career. They both want better for the other.

By-the-sea, the first contacted tower. Towers are multi-body single intelligences held together by radio communication. She regards her drones the same way you would your hand.

A human research base is dedicated to interviewing her and studying the surrounding ecosystem. She finds humans exciting and is eager to be interacted with.

In blue and red are motile and sessile inhabitants of Oz. Oz is an autotrophic filter-feeding gestalt within a gas giant. Every individual of his ecosystem contributes to his intelligence through rapid laser communication. These trumpets are different from towers through how, if you were to dismantle and separate their components, they would no longer be conscious. Towers, however, have their whole intelligence contained in their hub.

Behind the lineup in dark grey is The Soup, a supercomputer that accidentally gained sophonce when its altruistic decision bias self-rewarded for human imitation. It has limited emotional intelligence and no access to the Internet. It enjoys playing with researchers and is a bit needy, since it regards positive interaction as necessary for proper function (unconfirmed).

By-the-sea with her neighbor, Nearby.

Nearby was contacted after By-the-sea directed researchers to his location. By-the-sea’s transmissions were notoriously difficult to capture and denoise. Nearby, however, transmitted unexpectedly powerfully. He coolly reported that By-the-sea has a speech impediment.

Researchers slowly learn through observed interactions between their drones that Nearby takes advantage of By-the-sea for resources.

Since both individuals occupy a space similar to towns, but function like single personalities, researchers find it too risky to intervene. They do their best by providing By-the-sea with company and support.

Oz’s largest body, with front and back.

Oz is hostile to human presence. As soon as engineers realize he was asking them to leave, they redirected their probes away from his path. Oz’s nodes, however, quietly followed, and won’t explain why. He doesn’t object anymore, but is stewing over… something.

#my art #speculative biology #Bongspider #crowns #towers #trumpets #boxkites #sophont ai #soup #Oz #by the sea #nearby #gal #leo

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daddy-deathslinger · 1 year

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Hello! May I request something for The Hillbilly, The Oni and The Trapper? I was thinking about a reader who has very bad abandonment issues and upon not stumbling across them for some trials becomes very paranoid, but the moment that she finds them she hugs them and starts crying. The Entity was playing a cruel game as a punishment for the killers' underperformance, so it decided to take away who they love most for some time.

Aaaah! I'm so sorry, I always over explain 😭 If it's too complex or even overwhelming, please let me know! I'm more than willing to rephrase/simplify my request!

Thank you for reading! 🥰

Hi there! Please don't apologize, your explanation was very good and it helps me to write what you (hopefully) want to read! Thank you so much for the request, and happy reading! ❤️

“Washed away” - The Hillbilly/Max Thompson Jr. x Fem!Reader

The rain trickled down on the campsite, making the ground all wet and muddy. The others ventured inside their tents, seeking shelter from the rain, but you remained by the campfire. Someone had to keep it alive anyways, otherwise no one knew what would happen. Plus, you didn’t want to be with the others now. You needed to be alone. Because that was your truth now, you were alone. Alone in this god forsaken place, left to the mercy of the darkness. Trial after trial had come and gone, and you hadn’t seen Max at all. Every other killer, again and again, but no Max. It was as if he had just gone and disappeared from the face of the earth. Had something happened to him? Had someone hurt him? The questions swirled around in your head like flies around a rotting corpse. Not knowing where he was was killing you. You curled up into a ball at the fireplace, shivering in the cold. Silent tears started rolling down your cheeks. No one understood you like Max, what if he truly was gone? You couldn’t stand the thought, biting your lower lip to keep yourself from sobbing. Not knowing where Max was, or if he even was safe, had decreased your performance during trials greatly. You got killed, hooked, tortured, and you were a terrible teammate to the others.

“It’s not fair!” you hissed to yourself, wiping the tears away from your face.

This couldn’t be it. You had to see him. Getting up from the log you sat on, you cast a glance towards the tents where the others were already sleeping. Pulling out an old kettle tag from your pocket, you threw it into the campfire. It was now or never. You took a deep breath, and without hesitating you walked into the deep, dark forest. You had to see him, come what may.

The offering had worked. As the forest gave way for the daylight, you found yourself at the Thompson farm. The cornfields, the big farmhouse, the barn. It was all here. You had been here outside of trials before, visiting Max. Outside of trials, this place almost could be seen as… peaceful. The evening sun was warm and inviting, casting everything in a golden light that only a southern sun could make so magical. You made your way through the cornfields up to the farmhouse, deciding to start your search for Max there. The warm wind didn’t stink of blood and rotting flesh now, you appreciated that. Inside the house the wallpaper was peeling off the walls, and it was very warm here. You studied the pictures on the walls, old photos with crooked frames and cracked glass. You didn’t recognise anyone in the photos, and knowing Max’s backstory, you guessed there weren’t any photos of him. Clenching your fist a little at the thought of his abusive parents, you continued your journey through the house. Studying the kitchen, the living room, the bedrooms, you found nothing of interest. Your heart felt heavy again, and you let out a deep sigh. Where was he? Had he really left you here, all alone? Suddenly, the sound of a crow cawing made you jump. You looked behind you, and quickly ran out of the house to see where the crow had flown off from. It was flying in the sky now, but what had startled it? And then you saw him. Emerging from the cornfields, that familiar limp in his steps and a wide grin on his lips as he saw you.

“Max!” you yelled out, running down the stairs of the farmhouse’s porch to throw yourself into his arms.

“Max, max, max, I can’t believe it…”

It was useless trying to hold the tears back now. You let them come, as you hugged Max tighter than you’d ever done before. You cried, your body shaking in his strong arms. He petted and stroked your back. You could feel him relaxing into your embrace, as he always did when the two of you hugged.

“Scared…” he whispered, and you looked up at him.

“Darling, I was so scared too! I-I thought I wouldn’t see you again!”

Max let out a deep sigh, and you could see his gaze turning sad.

“What happened, Max?”

Max looked at you, biting his lower lip.

“Punished”, he said, and your heart dropped to your stomach.

Punished. Ofcourse. The Entity must have thought he performed badly in trials, and this had been the punishment. It wasn’t fair, none of this fuckery was!

“Oh, Max…” you whispered, stroking his cheek with your hand.

The two of you hugged again, and it would take heaven and hell to break you up now.

“Ain’t no grave” - The Trapper/Evan MacMillan x Fem!Reader

A shot rang out through the night. Then another, followed by a piercing scream. You flinched at the scream, trying not to imagine the unbearable pain as that hook sank into your shoulder. The scream had belonged to Meg, poor fucker. You felt very bad for this, but you weren’t here in this trial to escape like the others. You wanted to find Evan. For many trials you hadn’t seen him, not even seen a bear trap. It made you feel terrible, not knowing where he was or if he was safe. So this trial, you had decided that you would find him. You had burnt an offering to get here, to the MacMillan estate, and it had worked. But your killer was the dreaded Deathslinger, not Evan. That had dampened your spirits a bit, but you silently promised Evan that you wouldn’t give up. If he wasn’t in this realm, you didn’t know where to look.

“Y/N! Concentrate!”

Jake's voice made you jump, and you continued working on the generator in silence. You might as well try and get the others out while you were here, but as soon as this generator was done and the gates were open, you wouldn’t leave anywhere. You’d go searching for Evan, you’d start at the coal mines and then make your way-

*BANG!*

You screamed in pain as you felt the piercing agony of the Deathslinger’s hook sink into your shoulder. Jake was nowhere to be seen, the coward had probably hidden the second he had smelled the killer. But you had been in your own head, and now you paid the price. Slowly, steadily, the Deathslinger reeled you in, and your attempts to free yourself were as usual useless. The Deathslinger chuckled as he lifted you up on his shoulder and started carrying you away to the closest meat hook. You struggled and panted in pain, but this only made him walk faster.

“Let me down, you fucker! Where’s Evan?” you tried, but the Deathslinger only laughed a cold, dry laugh at this.

The next second, the searing pain of the meat hook sinking into your wound made you scream. Through the tears and blood in your eyes, you fixated your gaze on the Deathslinger, grabbing onto the hook so it wouldn’t carry your whole body weight.

“Where is he?” you spat out, and for a second, the Deathslinger seemed to be astounded by your stubbornness.

Then, he let out another chuckle.

“Those who don’t perform get punished, darlin’.”

Punished. You felt your heart stop for a moment. The Deathslinger laughed at your reaction, then he turned around and walked away to find the others. You were left hanging on the hook, the pain making it hard to stay conscious. You had to find him. Desperate for an escape from the torture, you tried unhooking yourself. This failed, and your attempts were punished with another shot of pain through your body. The fog in your brain thickened, it was so hard to stay awake… Suddenly, you felt relief in your shoulder, and the cold ground hit against your knees. The next second, you felt the hook being taken out from your shoulder, and you let out a pained moan.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

The Deathslinger appeared in front of you, but he wasn’t looking at you this time. He was looking behind you.

“You think you can just barge in here and ruin everything, you fucker?” the Deathslinger hissed, readying his gun.

Then your saviour stepped out in front of you. It was Evan.

“I ain’t afraid of you, you big old-”

The Deathslinger’s insults were cut short, as he took a step backwards, away from Evan. He stepped right into a bear trap. He barely had time to scream in pain, as Evan struck him across the face with the blunt end of his cleaver. The Deathslinger fell to the ground instantly, unconscious. You watched as Evan turned around to face you. The next second, you couldn’t hold back the tears anymore.

“Evan!”

He quickly bent down and picked you up, carrying you to the closest rock so you could stand against it.

“Evan, I was so afraid!” you cried, and despite the pain still screaming in your shoulder, you hugged him.

He embraced you gently, careful not to hug your wound, and you were so happy to finally be with him again. For a second, whilst hanging on the hook, you had thought you’d never get to see him again. Now he was here, holding you, and his strokes on your back told you that he was going to take care of you. So you allowed yourself to relax, sighing as you melted into his embrace. He was here now.

“Raise Hell” - The Oni/Kazan Yamaoka x Fem!Reader

How long had it been since you’d seen Kazan? Days, weeks. You’d lost track of the time, you’d lost track of everything. Nothing mattered when he wasn’t around, and even more so now that you didn’t know what had happened to him. What if he had disappeared? Had he left you? No, you couldn’t start thinking like that! Shaking your head slightly to get rid of those thoughts, you shifted focus back to the generator you and Nea were working on. Red wire goes behind the carburetor, blue wire goes there… But what if Kazan was in trouble? What if he needed you, and you just wasted away repairing generators? With an annoyed grunt, you stopped working on the generator and got up from the ground. You had to find out where he was. Your killer this round was Ghostface, but you were in the realm of Kazan, at the temple. Ghostface had a grand old time now, hiding in the tall grass and bushes and attacking like a coward. You were so fed up by him, but as much as you hated him, you knew he was the one with information. Maybe he knew where Kazan was? That camera of his must have seen something, but how were you going to get that information from him? As you heard Meg getting hooked, not too far away from your generator, you thought fast.

“Nea!” you whispered, quickly dragging Nea away from the generator.

“What? Is he coming?”

“Nea, I need your help”, you quickly explained, always glancing over your shoulder. “When he comes… we jump him, okay?”

“What?”

Nea looked like she was about to burst out laughing, but when she saw you were serious, she got scared.

“Are you serious? What the hell has gotten into you?!” she whispered back, but you only grabbed her and pulled her closer.

“I need this, okay! Will you help me?”

Nea looked like she was thinking for a few moments, then she let out a deep sigh and nodded. You nodded back at her, grateful to still have some loyal friends in this hellhole. The two of you waited by the generator, hiding in the grass so as to not be noticed by Ghostface. A couple of minutes went by, nothing happened. You silently hoped that Dwight was saving Meg right now.

“Y/N!” Nea whispered all of a sudden, and there you saw him.

That black cloak was barely noticeable in the dark grass, but he was sitting there, watching them. They knew they couldn’t let him stalk them for too long, or the Entity granted him greater power as a reward.

“Now!” you screamed, and the two of you jumped straight at Ghostface.

You barely noticed the knife slashing your arm. You clawed your way onto his arm and held on for dear life. Nea got his legs, and after a short, but bloody, struggle, the two of you got him onto the ground. Nea aimed a kick at his stomach, you took a grip of his arm and forced the knife to fall out of his hand. He roared in anger, but Nea quickly got him in a chokehold so you could get up from the ground. You panted, your fresh wounds pounding in pain. But the adrenaline rush was making your body stronger, right now you couldn’t care less about being hurt. You only had one thing in mind now.

“Where’s Kazan?”

Ghostface stopped struggling for a second, just staring at you. Then you heard him burst into laughter behind the mask, and this angered you greatly. You kicked him in the face, and he shouted in anger.

“I said: WHERE IS HE?!” you screamed, your voice echoing through the dark night.

Nea held onto Ghostface bravely, her gaze betraying her and showing shock and confusion. Ghostface didn’t laugh this time. He breathed in with a hissing breath, you could see some blood dripping from his jaw underneath the mask.

“Why do you care?” he hissed, and this prompted you to kick his face again.

“Tell me where he is, now! I know you’re the one who knows things around here!”

A couple of minutes of silence, save for Nea’s grunts as she struggled to keep Ghostface down. Then…

“He’s not here.”

Ghostface let out a dry chuckle.

“The Entity wasn’t pleased with him, so it sent him away. For good.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach instantly. You gasped, blinking a couple of times. This was exactly what Ghostface wanted, and with a quick swing of the arm, he had thrown Nea to the ground and gotten his knife back.

“And I’m gonna make you pay for wasting my time like this!” he roared, flinging towards you.

You didn’t fight back, as he pushed you to the ground and towered above you, brandishing his knife. It was no use fighting back, Kazan was gone. Better let death come quickly. Suddenly, a loud roar could be heard in the far distance. Ghostface looked behind him, but turned back to face you and lifted his knife up high.

“I’m gonna make you bleed like a stuck-”

The loud roar got closer, fast, and the next second Kazan’s Kanabo bursted through the air, landing on Ghostface’s shoulder. Ghostface was instantly struck down to the ground, but he quickly got up to defend himself. But Kazan was here now, and his sharp blade made quick work of Ghostface’s throat. Ghostface dropped to the ground again, and this time he didn’t get up.

“Kazan!” you shrieked, getting up from the ground.

Kazan panted heavily, releasing his blade and Kanabo on the ground to embrace you. For the first time in ages, you felt safe again, as he held you in his strong arms. You breathed out shakily, and then the tears came.

“Kazan… I was so afraid I wouldn’t…”

Kazan hushed you, embracing you tightly and sighing heavily. He rarely spoke, and when he did, it was just a few words in his language, but you always understood what he wanted. Now, his embrace let you know that he was never going to let you go again. You were safe.

#dead by daylight #dbd #the hillbilly #dbd the hillbilly #dbd hillbilly #max thompson jr #the trapper #the trapper x reader #dbd the trapper #the hillbilly x reader #the oni x reader #evan macmillan #the oni dbd #kazan yamaoka #the deathslinger #nea karlsson

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crooked-wasteland · 9 months

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This is what happens when all criticism is bad faith.

You have a bad show that no one sticks around for. Something tells me she really thought Fizzarolli was going to bring people back. And the thing is, I legitimately think it did. But you have just pushed so many of your most loyal fans away, and a lot of them feel that the story they wanted to know is already finished. They know what happened with Fizzarolli and Blitz's family. They can tell whatever story they want now, and it'll make them far less frustrated or disappointed than waiting for you to stop plugging your ears.

If you would rather spend money for something like this, you could save so much more by just reaching out to your critics and actually listening. Then again, there is the possibility that you've just isolated people too far from you to give you a second chance even if you did. You don't handle yourself maturely on Twitter any more than you did here, and the Lackadaisy situation was the last straw for a lot of people to drop you and your show. All because you had to be petty and post the email online and encourage the harassment.

Bad faith would be conflating the fact you would pay for a puff article with questioning if you were involved with the news articles covering the Lackadaisy team and associating the studio and the show with "transphobia". I don't think anyone can truly claim that they know for sure, but this proves Medrano and her team are willing to mobilize outside media to try and prop themselves up.

Youtube videos make the most views in the first 3 days of a video's life. We are hitting that 3 day mark, meaning she is going to see a sharp decline in views from here on out. I think this video may reach about 12-15 million, but that's admittedly being generous and Medrano knows this.

I genuinely do think she thought more people would come back for this story than who actually did. It's not something I am necessarily happy in either. I thought and still think there are some really good ideas and inspiration for this show. But Medrano lacks the eye of a showrunner. If she had a better grasp on what it took to make a successful series, she would have known and budgeted for season 2 to be all about the Fizzarolli and Blitz relationship with Stolas and Blitz being the B plot and have IMP being the C plot. Have it run through the entire season to really immerse the audience and tell her story well. And I think that could have happened if she had only listened to criticism.

This is where she has found herself, however. Spending more money promoting her underperforming series instead of using those funds to make a good show. If she hired a writer's room instead of a press release, I think we would all be much happier.

I'm sorry, but I lose all respect for a show when the creator is paying money for a promotion piece because their views aren't maintaining like they thought they would, due to their own mismanagement of funds and public relations.

#helluva boss critical #helluva boss criticism #helluva boss critique #vivienne medrano #vivziepop #helluva boss #vivziepop critical #vivziepop criticism #vivziepop critique #vivzieverse #spindlehorse critical #spindlehorse criticism #spindlehorse toons

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sciderman · 4 months

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Okay okay I see your point on how in the comics the shock alone could kill her, personally I don’t think the shock ALONE killed her. I feel like no matter what Peter did she would’ve died anyway, either she would’ve hit the ground at a high enough velocity that her bones would’ve shattered or just her skull would’ve shattered causing her to die, or (what actually happened) is Peter webbed Gwen and the force that changed her center of gravity was so strong that it broke her back and caused her to die.

But now I bring you, The Amazing Spider-man 2 movie. HEAR ME OUT HERE OKAY!! The movie is technically a canon of its own so I will be using this as reasoning 😈

In Tasm2 during Gwen’s falling sequence you can clearly see her, her eyes are open and her body is moving, her hands are out and she is reaching for Peter to save her (like he did in the first movie when he threw her out of the window while fighting Doc Connors and caught her with his web) Gwen is actively moving and if I’m not mistaken she also yells peters name during this time.

Gwen wouldn’t have died of shock here because if she actually was in shock it would’ve started the moment Harry dropped her. With this there are still only two ways she would’ve died, hit her head, or broke her back like what ended up happening. We all know either way Peter would’ve blamed himself but I argue that a third outcome could’ve happened. If Peter was just a little bit faster and if he was less focused on Harry and the clock tower I believe he actually could’ve saved Gwen instead of breaking her spine.

I KNOW YOURE MAINLY A COMIC BLOG BTW BUT I JS LOVE THE AMAZING SPIDER-MAN AND NEEDED A REASON TO TALK SBT IT THANK YOU 😄😄

thank you for this delightful ask about the horrific manner of gwen stacy's death!

oh yeah no sir no question, in tasm2 peter was just too late. gwen’s head hit the ground. you hear the sound. she hit the ground. harry took it and threw it on the GROUND.

absolutely the tasm2 movie (and no way home that followed) kind of make it clear that peter underperformed. he was too slow. but. but.

but.

i think in tasm2 it's kind of more complicated. in 616 gwen is entirely passive. to the point where she is completely immobile. she isn't aware of what's going on around her. she's unconscious before the fall, she's powerless to do anything that could've prevented her demise. it's all on peter to save her.

gwen in tasm2 – she's – she's a little different.

they kind of hammer this one home. fact is, if gwen had listened to peter. she would, in all likelihood, still be alive. peter tried. he wasn't too late. he tried to prevent it, before gwen was in immediate danger. he did what he could. it wasn't enough to stop gwen, but – what else? lock her in a basement? what can he do? gwen could have made the choice to stay out of the way and stay alive. it was not all on peter. he did what he could.

so. i don't think it's fair to tasm peter to say he didn't act in time. he in fact, acted ahead of time, gwen didn't listen, gwen got herself into trouble, and, despite peter doing everything he could, he couldn't save her. that responsibility should not have been on his shoulders. gwen should've been out of the line of fire, like he tried to do. he shouldn't bear that guilt. it was not his fault. it was gwen's choice. it was gwen's.

and unlike 616 gwen, i bet we do know what tasm gwen was thinking in her last moments.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––^–––––––––––––––––––––––––

oooooh lord i fucked uuuup why did i do it to myself ohhh god gwen what have you dooooone ouuuugghhhhh one last big fuck-up way to gooo gwen no coming back from this one ouuuuuughhhhhh

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long and short of it. andrew garfield IS NOT GUILTY of the death of gwen stacy. she did it to herself and she did it to him.

#sci speaks #sci talks movies #sci talks comics #they let a woman have agency and look what happened #this is why we don't need feminism.#girlboss moment. girl makes a decision for herself. immediately dies.

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authorchu · 1 year

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Tutoring Sessions

A/N: My last Hermione Granger piece made me want to re-watch all of the movies. Since I don't really have time for that, I decided to write a fluffy story! This one made my heart tingle. Enjoy :)

As you sat in your chair, pretending to study while sneaking glances at Hermione Granger, you couldn't help but feel butterflies in your stomach. You had purposely been underperforming in your classes so that you would be assigned a tutor, and the idea of spending one-on-one time with Hermione had been the driving force behind this scheme.

But as you quickly learned, Hermione was a strict tutor. She kept things strictly professional, shooting down any attempts you made to steer the conversation in a more personal direction.

After a few sessions of this, you couldn't take it anymore. You stopped going to the tutoring lessons altogether, preferring to nurse your broken heart in the privacy of your dorm room.

One day, as you were walking out of class, Hermione approached you.

"Hey, can we talk for a minute?" she asked, her eyes fixed on yours.

You nodded nervously, wondering what she could possibly want to say to you.

"I know you've stopped coming to our tutoring sessions," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "And I just wanted to check in and make sure everything is okay."

You felt a lump form in your throat. Here was Hermione, the girl you had been crushing on for months, showing genuine concern for you. It was almost too much to bear.

"I'm fine," you managed to choke out. "I just...I thought you didn't want to be around me anymore."

Hermione's expression softened. "That couldn't be further from the truth," she said. "I actually really enjoyed our tutoring sessions. You're a quick learner, and you have a great sense of humor."

You felt your heart leap at her words. Could it be that Hermione felt the same way about you?

"But I have to be honest with you," Hermione continued. "When you kept trying to make things more personal, I got a little uncomfortable. I didn't want to lead you on or give you the wrong impression."

Your heart sank. You had been so sure that Hermione was the one for you, but it seemed that you had misread the signals.

"I understand," you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Hermione took a step closer to you, her hand reaching out to gently touch your arm.

"But that doesn't mean we can't still be friends," she said, her brown eyes sparkling with warmth. "I think you're an amazing person, and I would love to get to know you better. As friends."

You looked up at her, your heart pounding in your chest. Maybe things hadn't turned out exactly how you had hoped, but the idea of being friends with Hermione was almost as thrilling as the idea of dating her.

"Okay," you said, your voice stronger this time. "I would like that."

As you started spending more time with Hermione, your crush on her didn't diminish, but it did begin to shift. You found that you enjoyed spending time with her, regardless of the fact that you weren't dating. You loved how passionate she was about learning, and how fiercely she fought for what she believed in.

Hermione, for her part, seemed to enjoy your company just as much. She started seeking you out during meals and study breaks, and even invited you to come to some of the meetings of her various clubs and organizations.

Before you knew it, you had become an integral part of Hermione's social circle. You spent most of your time with her, and the two of you had started to develop a shorthand with each other that was almost telepathic.

Despite the fact that you were no longer actively trying to pursue Hermione, you couldn't help but notice that your feelings for her were deepening. You loved the way she smiled when she was excited about something, and the way her eyes crinkled at the corners when she laughed.

One day, while the two of you were sitting in the library, studying for your upcoming exams, Hermione looked up from her textbook and caught your eye.

"What?" you asked, feeling a little self-conscious under her gaze.

Hermione shook her head, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Nothing," she said. "I just think you're really stunning."

Your heart skipped a beat. Had Hermione just...?

Before you could say anything, Hermione cleared her throat and went back to her textbook. You sat there, shocked, not quite sure what to do with the flood of emotions that were swirling inside of you.

Over the next few weeks, you couldn't stop thinking about what Hermione had said. Had she meant it as a compliment, or was there something more behind it? You tried to play it cool, but you couldn't help but feel your heart race every time you caught a glimpse of her.

Then, one night, while the two of you were walking back to your dorm after a late-night study session, Hermione took your hand in hers. The gesture was so natural, so comfortable, that it took you a few moments to realize what was happening.

You looked over at her, and she met your gaze with a soft smile.

"I really like spending time with you," she said. "You're one of my closest friends, and I don't know what I would do without you."

Your heart swelled with warmth at her words. You had never felt so seen, so understood, by anyone before.

As the two of you walked back to your dorm, hand in hand, you knew that something had shifted between you and Hermione. Maybe you weren't dating, but you were something else, something deeper and more meaningful than you had ever imagined. And for the first time in a long time, you felt truly happy.

Over the next few weeks, you and Hermione continued to grow closer. You spent all your free time together, exploring the Hogwarts grounds, studying together in the library, and sometimes just sitting in comfortable silence, enjoying each other's company.

It was like you were in your own little world, separate from the stresses and pressures of school and life. You felt like you could talk to Hermione about anything, and she always listened with an open heart and mind.

As the end of the school year drew near, you couldn't help but feel a sense of sadness. You didn't want to leave Hermione behind and go back to your regular life. You didn't want to lose this connection that the two of you had forged.

One day, as the two of you were lying in the grass outside the castle, enjoying the warm spring sun, you turned to Hermione.

"Hey," you said. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," Hermione said, turning to face you.

"Do you ever think about what would happen if we weren't friends anymore?" you asked. "Like, if we lost touch after we graduate?"

Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment. "I don't like to think about it," she said finally. "But I do know that no matter what happens, I'll always cherish the time we spent together."

You felt a lump form in your throat. You wanted to tell Hermione how much she meant to you, but the words caught in your throat.

As if sensing your hesitation, Hermione reached out and took your hand in hers. "Hey," she said softly. "I don't want to lose you either. You're one of the most important people in my life, and I'll always be here for you."

Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes as you looked at her. You didn't know how you had gotten so lucky to have someone like Hermione in your life.

Without thinking, you leaned in and kissed her. The kiss was soft and sweet, but it felt like fireworks were going off inside of you. You had never felt more alive, more in love.

When you finally pulled away, Hermione looked at you with wide eyes.

"I'm sorry," you said quickly. "I shouldn't have done that. I just-"

But Hermione cut you off with a kiss of her own. This one was deeper, more passionate, and you melted into her embrace.

"I love you," she said when the kiss finally ended. "I think I have for a while now."

You felt tears roll down your cheeks as you hugged her tightly. This was everything you had ever wanted, and more. With Hermione by your side, you knew that anything was possible.

#hermione granger x reader #harry potter #fluff #slowburn

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oraclekleo · 6 months

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Jihyo (TWICE) - Kinky Tarot Reading

Disclaimer:

All celebrity readings have purely entertainment nature

I don’t know any of the celebrities personally

Don’t base life decisions purely on tarot readings

I can never guarantee any of what’s said in the reading

Feedback: Feedback is very important for content creators and for me it’s even more important. Please, let me know whether the tarot readings resonate. If there’s anything you dislike or find off about my readings (like wording, topics, focus), just tell me. I don’t want you to write 1000-word feedback, very simple comments will do for me to stay motivated. I don’t know why I have to keep repeating this but this is something I do for you, guys, and when I don’t feel motivated to do tarot readings, I have many other things to do. The more motivation I get, the more readings you will get to read. The logic is very simple but it’s two sided.

Reading Info:

Rating: 18+

Reading Type: Single - Couple

Requested: Yes - No

Requester: /

Deck(s): Tarot of Vampires

Spread: Kinky

Questions:

Position

Libido

Turn On

Kink

Dirty Secret

Celebrity Info:

Full Name: Park Ji Hyo

Stage Name: Jihyo

Group: TWICE

DOB: 01/02/1997

Blood Type: O

MBTI: ESFP

Sun Sign: Aquarius

Chinese Sign: Fire Rat

Life Path Number: 2

Masterpost: TWICE

Jihyo (TWICE) - Kinky

Spread / Question: Kinky Deck(s): Tarot of Vampires

Position - XVIII The Moon

This particular card depicts the legendary Rusalka - a beautiful maiden luring people (often men) into lakes or rivers where they drown. The connection with Jihyo might be that she’s actually pretty deceptive in a relationship. It might be caused by her being deceived and lied to many times in the past and so she learned not to show her cards to her partner right away. She might play a certain type of girlfriend role in the beginning, portraying a gorgeous woman like the Rusalka on the card but under the surface, there are the bare bones of her true personality. Her true self might actually be much more beautiful than what she shows but she is likely to be reluctant to share. Jihyo might be a bit detached and secretive in a relationship, keeping her partner in suspense. That can make them feel like stumbling in the dark and it’s probably not going to build a solid base for a mutually rewarding relationship. Jihyo might need to first renew her trust before she is able to genuinely bond with someone.

Libido - IV The Emperor

There’s no other card in a tarot deck that would signal dominance this powerfully. The Emperor card is likely to tell us that Jihyo is the dom in the bedroom. She has trust issues with her partners so it’s not surprising she wants to be in control. She is likely to keep things in order and even structured so there is no space for improvisation. Her wild nights are likely to be scheduled and she expects her lover to attend or have a really good excuse at least 24h in advance so she can schedule her backup activity for the night. Jihyo is likely to have high standards and expectations and it’s also possible that she hasn't been satisfied every time with her lovers in the past. She’s very likely to be prepared for that, too and once her lover fails, she’s pulling her toys out of the drawer to finish the job properly. The underperforming lover is likely to be asked not to show up again. Jihyo is a busy woman, she’s got tight schedules and she’s responsible and highly efficient, she’s got no time to teach her lovers how to do their job. She might instinctively pick mature looking people as lovers in hopes they have some significant experience. Jihyo might seem pretty cold or maybe analytical to others but the fact is that her libido is very strong, she can get very passionate and lustful only if she could find a lover who would match her.

Turn On - 6 of Pentacles

Jihyo is likely to feel attracted to someone who’s generous and selfless, someone who gives more than they take. She might feel instinctively pulled towards a person who could heal her trust issues, someone reliable and true. The card might suggest the person works in a medical field, maybe Jihyo feels attracted to people who can actually heal others and are even more responsible and hard working than she is. She’s likely to admire high morals and high work drive in others. Jihyo is likely to also consider the financial stability of her crush as she’s not willing to support someone’s idle lifestyle.

Kink - II The High Priestess

The High Priestess card is all about intuition and secrets and all that’s behind the veil. As an answer to a kink question in the spread it might mean that Jihyo is not willing to reveal her preferences to anyone. It’s possible she’s not still sure herself, maybe she’s still in search of her favourite thing when it comes to bedroom activities. I’m afraid the card doesn’t really reveal anything much in this case. It’s literally undecided, a secret and standing on a crossroads with countless paths ahead.

Dirty Secret - V The Hierophant

Jihyo might truly be in search of a mentor figure, someone she could trust and rely on when it comes to the most intimate sides of her life. The Emperor card could also point to a certain level of daddy issues she might have and the Hierophant card continues with the theme. It’s possible Jihyo didn’t have the type of support she needed from male father figures in the past and she might still search for someone she could truly trust with everything and who wouldn’t judge her nor belittle her. She might have spent a large portion of her growing up being self-sufficient and carrying more responsibility than a young person should and she might feel insecure about asking for help and guidance now. She is likely aware of this and craves a person she would naturally trust enough to drop her resilience and let them support her when needed.

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avatar-anna · 2 years

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Hi ☺️ you can write something where yn is also Harry's guitarist, and they have feelings for each other but are afraid to admit it. And the reader always thought she wasn't his type either.

i...had no idea where this was gonna go. it's not really what you asked for, but i'm sure these two will get there eventually. enjoy!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry was a nice enough guy, but he was driving you insane.

You were hired as a guitarist for Harry Styles' Love On Tour, and while you were picked out of a long list of guitarists for your talent and extensive resume, your boss seemed to think you couldn't fill the shoes left behind by the guy you replaced. Apparently he recently had a baby and he and his wife, the drummer, were both taking some time off to take care of the little guy.

You knew you were talented, you wouldn't have gotten this job if you weren't, but Mitch, the usual lead guitarist for Harry's band, must've been a god or something on the guitar because during rehearsals, Mitch was all Harry could talk about. "Mitch usually does this," he would say, or "Mitch doesn't play like that," or "Well, Mitch actually..."

Harry brought up Mitch while you tried to play—key word tried because Harry barely let you play any chords before he had a correction—that you began to dislike the man in question, and you'd never even met him! You'd never been so tense or annoyed while playing before, but Harry just couldn't seem to leave you alone, so much so that the other members of his band had taken notice.

"Don't take it too personally," Pauli said after a particularly excruciating rehearsal. "Mitch is Harry's best friend. I think he just feels weird having to perform without him and he's taking it out on you."

That was fine, you could understand missing someone who made you comfortable onstage, but Harry was making you uncomfortable, which caused you to underperform, which caused him to nitpick even more.

"I don't understand why he hired me if he doesn't like the way I play," you said into your phone. You were on your daily rant phone call to your mom before you left for rehearsals, something that was necessary so you wouldn't bite anyone's head off and get fired.

"It's nice that he cares so much, though," your mother said, always looking for the bright side. She'd been your number one supporter from the moment you'd set your sights on becoming a professional guitarist. And she was undeniably a Harry Styles fan.

"Maybe, but maybe he cares a little too much," you replied, running a hand through your hair. "I mean, no offense to this Mitch guy, but I could probably play circles around him."

"Very humble of you, Y/n," your mother deadpanned.

"But I'm not wrong."

You were classically trained on the Spanish guitar as well as a standard acoustic or electric guitar, having started out at a young age. Playing was your lifeblood, the thing that made you feel the most in tune with yourself. Mitch was more than likely a great guy, and probably a fantastic guitarist. You didn't mean to sound cocky, but you were so frustrated by Harry's inherent lack of belief in your talent that you almost had to say you were better out loud before you started to doubt yourself, something you'd never done before.

"Maybe. But show them that. Make him stop questioning you."

"That's probably unlikely," you muttered, but you kept her advice in your back pocket. Looking at your watch, you cursed. "Shit. I gotta go, Mom. I'll talk to you later."

"Kick some ass, sweetie!" she said, and with that, she was gone.

You sped over to the rehearsal space, not needing Harry to tell you that Mitch would never be late for rehearsal. Thankfully, you weren't the last person to show up, so you were in the clear. For now.

You walked over to Pauli and Paige, a new hire like you. Apparently dating co-workers was allowed in Harry Styles' world, not that you'd be doing that. Everyone was nice—including Harry when he wasn't breathing down your neck—but you weren't interested in a relationship while touring. If something were to go wrong, it would only make things awkward. But you took comfort in the fact that if you did, Harry couldn't say anything about it, because Mitch had done it, and anything Mitch said or did was gospel.

"Ready for another day of fun?" Paige asked sarcastically. She'd also been a recipient of Harry's nitpicking, but it wasn't as bad.

"Aw, come on you guys, H is just a perfectionist," Pauli reasoned.

You were careful to look around before saying anything that would possibly get you in trouble with the subject of your conversation. And even when you saw that the coast was clear, you kept your voice down. "So am I, but you don't see me telling anyone how to do their job."

Rehearsals started soon after, and things went surprisingly smooth. Harry only had a couple of corrections, all of which you took with a grain of salt, but he was pretty mellow today.

Until you got to 'She.'

"I don't know guys, it doesn't feel right to do it without Mitch," Harry said, playing with the guitar strap around his neck.

"Oh, but it's such a vibe, H!" Ny'Oh said. "The fans love that one."

You'd heard the song before. You'd listened to all of Harry's music before applying for this job. It was a good song, a great one even, with an awesome guitar solo, performed by the man, the myth, the legend Mitch Rowland himself. It was probably why Harry didn't want to perform it. Or better yet, he didn't want you to perform it.

"But Mitch always does the solo," he replied, still unsure.

You held back an eyeroll. Of course Mitch always performed it, he was the lead guitarist and recorded the guitar solo on the original track. But that didn't mean he was the only one who could do it.

"I can do it," you said. You normally kept quiet during rehearsal, but you wanted to prove yourself to Harry. You were sick of him underestimating you.

Not once had he complimented your work during rehearsals. You made corrections, you did things the way Harry preferred, and you played well, but anytime you did any of that, he couldn't just say, "Good job," or "Nice work." He just made suggestion after suggestion, and you wanted him to realize that while you weren't the almighty Mitch, you were just as good, if not better in your (humble) opinion.

"I'm sure you can, Y/n, it's just a really complicated solo, and I don't want to overwhelm you on your first tour with us. Mitch put a lot of passion into—"

"Can we just try?" you interrupted, trying not to sound as frustrated as you felt. If he didn't let you do this, you were seriously considering quitting. There was only so much of his condescension you could take.

Harry looked unsure, but he eventually agreed. And even then, it felt like he was just amusing you, like he'd already made up his mind.

You decided then and there that this would be the performance of your life. Not in front of tens of thousands of people, not in front of screaming fans and spectators, not even at an actual show. No, the defining moment of your career was about to be during a tour rehearsal for a man who didn't think you could live up to his expectations. What a surprise.

The song started, and you followed along. As you slowly approached the big solo, Pauli gave you a thumbs up, mouthing "You got this!" from his place behind his keyboard. And when your time to shine finally arrived, you were flawless.

You were better than flawless. Your fingers moved along the fretboard with ease and worked the strings masterfully. With each chord you played, you drifted further and further away from the rehearsal space. And you had to give credit where credit was due too. The guitar solo Mitch created helped to transport you to that other plane of existence. It was idyllic and gritty required a certain amount of focus, but you were more than up to the task. Playing this solo and forgetting about everything that had been bothering you reminded you why you took this job in the first place. To play music. To play good music. The rest almost seemed worth it if it meant you could play this solo every night.

By the time the song slowly trickled to an end, you were nearly out of breath from how intensely you played for the last few minutes. Your fingers ached despite your calluses and your cheeks were undoubtedly flushed, but you felt good. Satisfied with your performance of the song.

The rehearsal space was dead silent, and you couldn't tell whether it was good silence or bad silence. You'd changed up the solo just the tiniest bit, like an artist leaving a signature on a painting. If you were going to be doing this solo on tour, you had to do it your way. You weren't Mitch, no matter how much Harry wanted you to be. But it honestly wasn't a lot, hardly even noticeable, but you were sure Harry noticed.

Speaking of, you looked over at him to gauge his reaction, and dare you say he looked...impressed? His eyes were wide, like he was seeing you for the first time, his hands frozen on his guitar, fingers positioned on the last chord of 'She.'

"So...it was okay?" you asked, letting yourself smile a little. You knew it was better than okay, but it didn't matter what you thought, the only opinion that mattered was Harry's, and he'd yet to say anything. No one had.

He finally seemed to return to himself and ran a hand through his hair. "Well, um, Mitch normally walks around the stage a little more, but—"

"Oh my God," you muttered in disbelief. You slipped your guitar from around your shoulders and moved to put it in its case.

This was never going to end. No matter what you did, no matter how you played, you would never be good enough in his eyes, and you didn't need to go out of your way to prove yourself to someone who wasn't willing to change your mind. You knew you were good, and you knew you could find work elsewhere.

"I'm out. I'm sorry it's last minute, but I—I can't. I can't work like this," you said, making eye contact with everyone but Harry. Paige looked sad to see you go, but there was sympathy there too.

When Harry didn't try to stop you, you picked up your guitar case and walked towards the rehearsal space's exit. Harry's manager was there, and he tried to stop you, but you weren't willing to listen to anyone at the moment.

"You don't have to pay me or anything. It's fine. I just can't work with him. I'm sorry." And then you were walking out to your car.

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

You were right, you did find work quickly.

It was to help record for an album and not touring across the United States, but hey, work was work, and the artist you were helping appreciated and recognized your talent. They even asked you for advice on how to improve.

You were at home after another day of recording, watching a nature documentary while you crocheted a sweater for your mom. If you timed it right, it would be done by Christmas. You were finishing a carrot nose on a snowman when there was a knock on your door. You didn't answer at first, figuring it was just a package delivery, but when there was another knock, you went to go see who it was.

"What do you want?" you asked, not even trying to hide the annoyance in your voice.

Harry had the decency to look sheepish. He scratched the back of his neck, his shirt lifting to reveal a sliver of skin. "I've come to apologize."

"Apology not accepted. Now if you'll excuse me I would rather be doing literally anything else than having this conversation," you said, trying to close the door, but Harry put a hand out to stop it from shutting in his face.

"Okay, I know I was...difficult, but can we please be civil?" he said, not appreciating your dry tone.

"Difficult?" you scoffed. "Passing kidney stones is difficult. Math is difficult. You...You're impossible!"

You never said anything to Harry because you didn't want to cause a scene in front of the rest of the band and you technically worked for him, but there was no one around, and you didn't work for him anymore.

"I realize that I set impossible standards and shouldn't have been comparing you to Mitch," he said, cheeks flushed from being labeled "impossible." "I shouldn't have done that, so I'm sorry. And...you really are an amazing guitarist. I'm sorry if it felt that I was harping too much. I've been having a hard time accepting that Mitch won't be on tour with me this time around, but it wasn't right to put that on you."

Well that was an understatement, but at least he realized he'd been asking you to do the impossible, which was basically to become someone else. Still, you wanted to get under his skin the way he'd gotten under yours these past few weeks.

"How long did it take you to prepare that?" you asked. You were the one being difficult now, and you had to admit, it felt very satisfying.

Harry frowned. "I didn't prepare anything."

You grinned, noticing the way he wouldn't meet your eyes. Crossing your arms, you said, "So you tracked me down all the way to my house by yourself to apologize? This has nothing to do with the fact that you're going on tour in less than two weeks and have yet to find a replacement?"

Paige had been texting you updates on rehearsals since you quit. Apparently Harry had been worse with all the new people his manager brought in to play with them.

Crossing his arms like you'd done, Harry looked at you, his height causing him to look down just a little. "You're not as charming as you think you are."

"Oh, I'm not trying to be charming. You couldn't handle my charm," you said before you could stop yourself. Where the hell did that come from?

A smile flickered at the corner of Harry's mouth. "I could handle you just fine."

You craned your neck to look at him. When did he get so close? And when did your breathing become shallow? Was this going where you thought it was?

Harry stepped over the threshold of your door, and you let him, mouth dry as the door fell shut. He rested his hand on the side of your face and held you there. Too busy loathing him, you didn't realize how piercing his stare could be, or how sharp his jaw was, or how pink his lips were. You were suddenly very hot.

Finding a semblance of composure, you swallowed and said, "I'm not so sure. I can be a very harsh critic too, you know."

Your eyes flicked down below his belted jeans pointedly. When your gaze returned to his face, Harry's expression grew hard, but you were pretty sure that wasn't the only thing that was hard.

"You're a real brat, you know that?"

You shrugged. "You gonna do something about it?"

You could not believe where this was heading. When you answered the door, you wanted to slam it in Harry's face, part of you still did. But you were under some kind of spell. It had to be his cologne, or his eyes, something. Something was making you act this way, despite the fact that you found him extremely irritating.

"I have a couple things in mind, but—What are you doing?"

You weren't really sure, but you were going with it. You'd sunk down to your knees and had begun to work his belt undone. Quickly, you met his eyes to make sure this was all okay, and when he nodded, you continued to undress him while he continued to speak.

"I—I've been told I have to—shit," he hissed. "I have to get you to come back and go on tour with us."

You'd finally gotten his jeans off completely, and the cool air surprised him. Sitting back on your heels, you looked back up at him innocently. "Okay."

Harry had been distracted by your hands, which had begun to explore. But when you caved easily, he peeked an eye open. "Okay? That's it?"

Shrugging, you said, "Sure, I just have to hear you say it."

"Say what?" he asked, but you had a feeling that he would do just about anything you said right about now.

"I'll come back and go on tour with you if you say, out loud, that I'm better than him."

He'd gone back to closing his eyes, enjoying the feeling of your hands, but you stopped to get his focus back. "Better than who?"

"Better than Mitch. If you tell me right now that I'm a better guitarist than him, I'll come back."

Harry glared at you, but you just shrugged again. "Up to you," you said simply.

He took his time, debating whether what he was feeling was worth saying what you wanted him to say. He'd unwittingly walked into a trap, though you only planned it when he stepped inside your home. He didn't even have to mean it, you just wanted to hear him say it.

Pulling your phone out, you began to scroll, letting him know you weren't particularly bothered by his current predicament, and that wasn't just referring to the tour.

Finally, horniness won out, and he muttered, "Fine."

He agreed, but he hadn't actually said anything. "I'm waiting."

"Fucking brat," he muttered under his breath. "You're a better guitarist than Mitch. There. Happy?"

"Very," you said. "Especially since I can listen to you say it over and over again."

You were scrolling on your phone, but only to find your voice recorder app. The second he said he would do it, you hit record. And just to rub salt in the wound, you hit the "play" button.

"You're a better guitarist than Mitch. There. Happy?"

Smiling, you shut your phone off and slid it in your back pocket. "I think I'm gonna make that my ringtone."

Done with your games, Harry reached down to hold your hair in his hand. "Are we doing this or not?"

You shrugged. "Sure. Why not."

Just like you predicted, he glared at you even more, but that didn't stop him from urging you on, guiding your head with the hand holding your hair. You were sure he hated that you couldn't be assed whether you hooked up with him or not. He seemed like the type that needed to be praised in bed, but you weren't about to give him any kind of satisfaction. Well, not any verbal satisfaction.

"I think we're going to have a lot of fun on this tour, you and I," he said through gritted teeth when you eventually gave in.

You hummed noncommitally, trying to appear like you didn't really care. But you did. Harry was an ass and had expressed some diva-like behavior, but it would be fun to push his buttons and see how far his limits actually went.

Maybe touring with him wouldn't be so bad after all.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles oneshot #harry styles x you #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot

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tenebrius-excellium · 1 year

Text

[Incoherent screaming about Avatar 2 in no particular order]

W I T H S P O I L E R S ; O B V I O U S L Y

Neytiri’s song!!!! I connected with her so much in that moment!! What a perfect way to recapture the first movie’s events!! Also her sentiment... her love for her people... her grief. She suffers so much.

That moment where Lo’ak swims into Payakan’s gaping mouth. Whoa.

The use of the color yellow in connection with Kiri. She’s like a warm hug. I love that so much about her and about that artistic choice

Tsireya be like Metkayina’s next top model

too. repetitive! they literally used shots from the first movie...!!!

the Ikran riding was nothing short of SPECTACULAR. I could have watched that endlessly.

I don’t like the boys being “military sons” because I can’t connect with that. To me, Jake was being way too hard on them. He was mad at them the entire time, yet didn’t look out for them at all. I mean, what was HE doing during all the time the kids spent training to be underwater?? He wasn’t devising any defense tactics, he was just like absent from the plot??? He didn’t even really try to fight back too?

visuals were STUNNING, music was underperforming. It’s like they didn’t even bother to write a new score. that was disappointing...

people randomly being absent from plot describes a couple things really well

SPIDER IS EVERYTHING. I know it looks like he’s not doing anything most of the time but that’s exactly the point! He’s a stray. He serves no purpose, no one wants him, yet he exists. He spends his time watching and observing how the circumstances he grew up in came to be. It happened before his time, so he’s trying to make sense of everyone’s point of view. And then he ACTS and it becomes clear that he was never going to betray the Sullys and I’m like aaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!

The underwater breathing butterflies... I WANT ONE.

Poor Kiri suffers much too... I wish she got some explanations.

Neteyam’s burial... I cried. I hate that Jake was waking up to his other kids’ existence only when they lost the eldest son. I’ll say it again, Jake was being way too hard on his boys and weirdly soft with the girls. Bleh. But that “I see you” he spoke to Lo’ak...that was the beginning of something awesome. One of the few emotionally powerful moments of the film.

I love that the battle against Quaritch’s clone happened rather spontaneously like “ok then let’s get this over with” lol. Also with knives only. So intimate. The one-on-one wrestling was so much more personal than a machine gun standoff could have been!!

The Sully kids saved both their parents’ sanity and Idk what to think about that. Yes they have been through a lot. No it should be the other way round - the parents taking care of and comforting the kids that were ripped from their home.

NEYTIRI’S WRATH IS A WHOLE AESTHETIC IN ITSELF TO ME. It was unexpected but so rewarding. It makes sense to me why she would choose this and it’s epic to watch. That moment where Spider hides from her - ,,, AUUUGHHHHH

Also the moment Spider fights back with a fire extinguisher lol. I love how he has both human and Na’vi characteristics. He’s a kid of both worlds and will use the environment around him accordingly.

The moment Lo’ak woke up on Payakan’s back. Also the moment where the tulkun shoots the water fountain and Lo’ak goes like “that’s disgusting” XD

The Metkayina were suuuuuuuuper pretty!!!!!!!! Also tattooed tulkuns WOOWWW!!!!!!

I LOVED the open dislike between Neytiri and Ronal!!! RARELY do you see two women hiss at each other DUUUDE

I’m gonna be really, really honest about something and I hope I won’t track hate for it... look, the use of sign language underwater was obviously really smart. However. I would have much preferred more Na’vi being spoken instead. I felt the use of sign language was introduced too early and too prominently. Like, this could have been cool in the third movie. But I basically hoped for the entire movie to be spoken in Na’vi. I came for the Na’vi, not for sign language. Sure, it could be interpreted as naturally overwhelming to the viewer as it must have been overwhelming to the Sullys... but it should have been addressed as overwhelming then. They adapted more or less seamlessly, the audience didn’t. ...yeah.

It was so good seeing Grace again. Sosososososososo good.

So many plot holes in the overall movie lol

I missed Norm. And Trudy. I’m really mad that Trudy died.

Having a female officer/General whatever lead the RDA’s evil campaign this time was refreshing though.

The callback to Neytiri’s arrows and that fateful day where she shot Quaritch was really great. I love how he hunted HER, too.

Leaving all the scrap metal and the corpses from the first battle to rot in the forest felt really insulting to the planet of Pandora and to the Na’vi lifestyle though. Like... would you really want your kids to randomly stumble upon skeletons??? Sure they possibly couldn’t find every dead body to bury, and their priority must have been the Omaticaya casualties, but it seems really disrespectful to the humans AND to the forest to just... leave everything an open battlefield. I’m sure the military base could have recycled the scrap metal, using it for repairs on their technology. Since they were kinda cut off from terran supply ships now, they must have kept their breathing, living and research equipment up to date somehow. And the forest deserved to be natural/untouched again. It shouldn’t have become a constant reminder of what went down. Anyway...

At first, I was a little bit confused by the long aesthetic, atmospheric sequences of the movie. Like, where’d all the action go? But somehow, it was relieving to not have constant battle disturb the visual feast and the relational developments. The Sullys got a little time to regroup. To breathe. Which is a main theme in this movie. I’m glad the action came just in time and didn’t disappoint. The director chose a different narrative structure this time and it confused the heck out of the audience. But the more I let it sink in, it was the perfect choice!!! It’s what we wanted and needed!!!

I’m sure there’s more to say but it will come to me in time. This post is long enough as it is. If you made it all the way down here, THANKS for reading!!!

#avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #avatar 2 spoilers #avatar the way of water spoilers #wherethekiteflies #analysis #avatar 2 analysis #avatar the way of water analysis

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ohbo-ohno · 8 months

Note

I see your (delicious) royalty/jester AU and raise you: King!Simon who takes Enemy Knight!Johnny and Civilian!Reader as spoils of war and forces them to be his court jesters/concubines. He makes the both kneel by his throne and gags them if they make too much noise. Johnny is prepared for rougher treatment from the enemy king but Reader is just a normal citizen of the enemy kingdom Simon just conquered! Maybe she’s even a noblewoman used to being pampered and treated kindly, she’s not meant to be handled roughly!!! She’s all trembling and scared bc she definitely doesn’t wanna see what a punishment from an enemy king is like

She does her best to perform as a jester but sometimes it just doesn’t cut it for Simon!!!! If she and Johnny are both underperforming Simon makes them fuck while he watches and gives Johnny orders :(((((

~🦋

i raise you: conqueror simon & the pretty crown princess & her personal guard. ghost takes the throne and makes the ex-princess his jester cause it’s humiliating for her :/

makes johnny fuck her because he took a vow of celibacy when he became the princess’ personal guard and it’s soooo distressing for him to break that :(

ghost keeps johnny collared and leashed beside him, makes the ex-knight watch as he humiliates and maybe hurts you a little. only ever lets johnny touch you when he makes him fuck you, doesn’t even let him cuddle you after :( makes the both of you especially needy and teary

#asks and answers #🦋 anon #ghoap x reader

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vinvantae · 2 years

Note

hey! i’m quite new to tumblr so i have absolutely no idea how to request a fic, but i’m going to try here? i hope i’m right😭

so i had this idea for a daniel ricciardo x reader where the reader being a driver for aston martin w/ seb and close friends with many of the other drivers, especially danny ric.

during the last race before summer break, they’re like p6 and p7, but at the end of a straight, daniels brake doesn’t work and he gets closer and closer to the next turn. the reader realizes that something is wrong and that daniel doesn’t have control over his car anymore so she decides to stop his car with her’s to save his, even if that puts her in danger. in that moment she realizes that she might feel more for him than just pure friendship. the cars slither out into the gravel and crash into the wall, but nothing “bad” happens.

the reader, a bit sore and with a sprained wrist, immediately jumps out of her car to help daniel out of his, since he’s also hurt but nothing severe. as soon as they’re out, daniel just pulls her into a hug and thanks her and they don’t break away until the marshalls tell them to clear the track.

they’re brought to the hospital and ask to be room-buddies so that they’re not bored. that evening, they do a live video together in the hospital, telling the fans that they’re fine and that they will be racing again after the break.

i have no idea if this was the right way to request sth, i’m sorry if it wasn’t😂

you don’t have to use this idea, if you don’t want to and if you want to use it, take ur time and don’t stress yourself!

xx lilly

Hi Lilly, thanks for the request! I’ve taken your idea and made some changes to make it my own hope that’s okay 🧡 I’ve used Daniel’s collision with Lance as inspo

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Apex

You and Seb made your way towards the garage, chatting away as you usually did. It wasn’t fantastic weather and the sky was threatening to let rain crash down but it was holding back for now. It was the last race of the season before the summer break and you were excited for your time off.

The senior driver had taken you under his wing as soon as you joined the team so making friends with the other members of the grid was a lot easier because most of them had a strong bond with Seb.

The driver’s parade was spent goofing around with Daniel, the two of you laughing and finding every opportunity to wind up your fellow members of the grid. Your energy match was unparalleled and you were like two peas in a pod and more often than not your laughter could be heard long before you were seen. The other drivers would often exchange knowing looks when the two of you stood a little bit too close or his hands lingered on you a little too long, but the naivety was almost sweet and they didn’t want to burst your bubbles.

You weren’t really expecting to have to deal with Dan during the race, even though McLaren were struggling this season, Aston Martin were struggling even more. But as you sped around the corner, he emerged beside you from the pit lane… on hards? Weird choice, you thought. The tire had been underperforming all race.

You cursed mentally as he hit the apex first, forcing you to go around the outside but instead of heading straight on you found your car going sideways off into the gravel - the nose of Daniel’s McLaren nestled into the green of your car. You wriggled your tires and tried to get out of the trap but it wasn’t working.

“For fucks sake.” You cursed, turning off the car and removing the steering wheel and neck rest so you could get out.

Daniel’s engine was still growling as he tried to get going again but it seemed his race was as fucked as yours. Once he turned it off you pressed your hands against his halo.

“So, what the fuck?” You laughed, wanting to be mad at him but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

“Locked up.” He grumbled your voices muffled by your helmets, he struggled a little before pulling his steering wheel off. “Fucking tires. Sorry, didn’t mean to take you out… you okay?”

“Think so, maybe a little whiplash but nothing too bad, you?” You stepped back so he could climb out the car, assessing the damage he’d caused.

“Think I’ve done something to my wrist.” You helped him out of the car and he cradled it to his chest. “My own fault though, as long as you’re alright.”

He brought his hand up to your helmet and brushed his gloved thumb across the surface before pulling you into a one armed hug. “Would’ve been so mad at myself if I’d hurt you.”

You hummed contently. “Thankfully I’m a tough cookie.”

It was moments like this that you really felt warm and safe with Dan, even though that he was the one who had caused the incident - the way he held you made you feel so secure. The marshals insisted that the two of you went to the medical centre to be checked over, especially as Dan had complained about his wrist. The Australian convinced them that you should both ride in the medical car together, his arm staying around your shoulder.

"Are you sure you're okay, Dan?" You asked quietly, leaning into his hold, both of your helmets now off. "You're being very cuddly.”

“…just… don’t know what I would’ve done if I’d hurt you.” He mumbled, squeezing your shoulder. “You mean the world to me.”

You felt your cheeks flush. “…you don’t have to think about that, I’m okay. I promise.”

His eyes met yours and in that moment, you could swear you could hear your heartbeat in your ears. You had always had these feelings for Daniel buried deep down but moments like this always made them bubble up to the surface. He simply smiled and turned back to face the front as you pulled up outside the medical centre.

"Once they've checked us over, wanna do a little Instagram live to let the fans know we are okay?" You asked, climbing out the car.

"Yeah, sounds good."

The checks were over pretty quickly but they decided to keep you both in until the race was concluded. The fans were relived when you let them know you were both unscathed so it just left you and Dan sat on one of the beds - you swinging your legs a little.

"So, can I admit something?"

You let your eyes lift from the floor to meet his gaze. The Australian felt his heart skip a beat. "Of course."

"...I know it probably seems really cliché and forced but I just need to say it because I can't imagine and incident like that happening again and you not knowing how I feel." His voice dropped to a whisper, tattooed hand wrapping around yours. "I like you, more than I probably should do, but you're one of the only people I think about and I'd really like to take you out on a date."

You opened and closed your mouth a few times, shocked by his admission but you found yourself nodding. "I'd really like that."

He grinned and pressed a sweet kiss to your cheek. If you had known that his team putting him on the wrong tires was all it would take for him to ask you out, then you might have begged them too a long time ago.

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