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piratesfromspace · 4 months

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Just Like Old Times (Price x Reader + poly141)

Pairing: Reader x Price (& Reader x 141) Rated: Mature Word count: 2.9k Summary: A cottage in the snow. A Captain you knew in another life. His rugged and attractive men. Will you let them into your life? Note: This is a fic I wrote for @literatecowboy for the Secret Santa event organized by @bunnyreaper! I tried to make something soft and sweet and it's taking place during the winter, it's not smutty but if you like it, I can make a part 2 with some action 👀

EDIT: we have a PART 2!!

Content: ex-military!fem!reader, mention of food & alcohol, a little bit of angst but it’s mainly fluff, smoking, flirting, praise kink, sharing body heat

MASTERLIST // PART 2

It had been Laswell’s idea.

The team needs to be ready for snow conditions, do whatever you think is best. You have 3 weeks. And I’m talking extreme weather, Price, not a little trip to your local ski resort.

Those had been the instructions Kate had delivered to an unphased Price.

He knew it was only a matter of time before this kind of mission would be required from them. Of course, the men of the 141 have already trained in the cold of England, have seen and tested the winter gear. But Laswell is about to send them somewhere at the very East of Europe, and there is a small difference between surviving winter in London and surviving winter in places where the cold could kill you in minutes if you didn't have the proper equipment or knowledge. Over there, more than usual, tiny mistakes could have big consequences. And Price would rather not have his team freeze to death because of a lack of training.

It’s December and the month is cold already. But it’s nothing compared to the cold Soap feels when he steps out of the helicopter. It’s like Price has picked the coldest place he knows in America. He’s pretty sure they are somewhere in Wyoming or Montana, the only thing he can see are mountains all around them. Spruce and fir trees sprawl in dark patches contrasting with the stark white of the snow covering everything. He crosses the large glade to reach the tree line, as the helicopter takes off, sending the fresh snow flying in every direction. The sky is a light gray, and while the whole scene is stunning - makes his head spin with equal awe and wonder thinking about nature’s force and brutal beauty - it means there is no sun to warm his face.

“Come on soldiers, let’s move, we still have a two-hour hike to reach our B&B!”

“You mean someone will be there to make us breakfast Captain?” Soap chimes, unbridled joy coming through his voice at the prospect of warm home-made meals instead of MREs.

Price has a hard time hiding a smile as he starts walking on the thin winding path, only recognisable for those who know it’s there. ”There will be someone, but I’m not sure they will cook for you, Sergeant.”

Ghost lets out a dry chuckle and follows the steps of their Captain, leaving Soap and Gaz a bit puzzled.

❄️

The sun is already setting when you hear loud voices outside, and soon after a series of knocks on your door. You’re a little stressed when you rise from the floor in front of your fireplace to go open the door. You have agreed to shelter those 4 soldiers for 3 entire weeks only as a favor to Price. An old acquaintance who saved your life, a decade earlier, before you left the field to heal your wounds - body and mind. The large wood cabin had been your home for a few years already. You keep it open for women like you, in need of time away from the world, although it’s pretty rare they come during winter time when the road is blocked by snow. It’s an old building, but well-kept and you made it as cozy as possible, all warm natural tones, plush carpets on dark wood floors, dark gray stones in the bathrooms.

You welcome them with a soft smile, delighting in their surprise - seems like John had not told them he planned on using your cottage as a back-up base for this training expedition. John’s team members are not really what you expected: there is one Scott with a mohawk that seems simultaneously annoyed and happy to be there (he has terrific blue eyes), a young and calm brown-haired Brit (he’s really cute, like movie-star cute), and a behemoth with a literal skull mask (his size alone has your head spinning). You can’t complain about them though, as they are polite and friendly, praising your home - and for sure taking in the comfort and warmth one last time before heading off for days of rudimental camping in the icy woods. You don’t envy them, remembering that one mission you did in Siberia when you were still in active duty, that wasn’t really fun. They settle in their rooms easily and you all share a quick dinner you had cooked - except for the masked giant. The banter goes fast between them, especially after you offer them beers. You like being alone, but you have to admit they are fun to be around.

❄️

The living room is silent and dark, the only light coming from the fireplace across your couch. After dinner, you had trouble finding sleep in your room, so you went to read a bit in front of the fire. But you must have dozed off, because you wake up suddenly, gasping, arms flailing, sitting up immediately. Your frantic eyes, wide open, scan the room for the reason of your awakening, survival instinct going overdrive. Someone is standing in your living room, frozen in place on their way to the front door. It’s the behemoth with the skull mask - the scariest of them all, of course.

“Didn’t mean to scare you.” he apologizes. In the darkness of the room, it looks like his jaw is not even moving beneath the dark fabric covering the lower half of his face, like the sound just pours out of him or like he’s speaking directly inside your head. He might actually, you’re not entirely convinced the giant is not some sort of supernatural being John brought back from a cursed battlefield. It’s unnerving to say the least.

“I’m sorry, it- it happens sometimes, I can’t help it, my instinct thought you were a threat…” you blurt out before realizing you may have offended him in some way by implying he’s not worthy of your trust. But instead of scoffing, he lets out a thoughtful hum, lowering his head to look at his boots, almost sheepish.

“Don’t. Don’t apologize.” His voice is low, calm, and at the same time you can feel something else, sadness, maybe disappointment, in what or who, you’re not sure.

“Care for a smoke?” he offers after a beat of silence, nodding to the front door. You don’t smoke anymore, cut the nasty habit years ago. That’s why you don’t know what compels you to accept, but you’re not gonna be able to sleep now, so you follow him outside, grabbing your coat on the way.

You half expect him to smoke through the mask, but he pushes the fabric up enough to reveal a strong jaw covered in light stubble, and plush lips. So he’s human after all. The slick and heavy storm lighter looks ridiculously small in his giant hand when he lights his cigarette. He takes a deep puff before handing it to you.

“Sorry, last one.”

Your fingers graze his, and you bring it to your lips to drag a small puff that immediately makes you cough.

“You ok?” he rasps, humor tilting the corner of his mouth upwards.

“Yeah, it’s been a while, that’s all” you provide. He hums in approval at your explanation.

When you hand him the cigarette, you take a moment to look at his mouth, the way his throat works when he inhales, the way the silver smoke dances between his open lips and fades into the night sky. Something warms your gut when you realize his lips are set just where yours had been a few seconds ago.

You don’t know what’s more attractive, this or the fact he doesn’t try to make conversation for the sake of it. He doesn’t bother to explain why he couldn’t sleep and felt the need to smoke at 3 in the morning. He knows you understand. You are just glad to bask in the soft noises of nature at night - wind in the threes, the hooting of an owl. Fuck, you’ve been alone up there for too long to thirst on John’s colleagues just like this, just a few hours after their arrival. You shake your head, driving out the thought, and take the cigarette again from his fingers.

❄️

The next morning, you wake up pretty early after a short night, only to find one of them - the pretty one, Gaz - is already fixing coffee in your kitchen like he belongs there. You honestly could get used to this. The thin long sleeves of his shirt are doing nothing to conceal the muscles underneath, rolling as he’s going about this mundane task of preparing breakfast. His kind eyes and soft voice when he asks for your choice of eggs makes your heart flutter with a yearning for this kind of intimate domesticity you had never really allowed yourself up until then. It’s kinda concerning, at this rate you’re gonna ask one - all? - of them to stay with you in your cottage instead of going back to whatever missions at the other end of the world.

The rest of the day is not making you change your mind. Price had asked if anything needed their help around the house, and you gave them the tedious task of moving the gigantic pile of wood logs stocked at the other end of your garden closer to the house. It would have taken you days to do it by yourself. But by lunch time, the pile had dwindled to a fifth of what it was thanks to the hard work of the four men. The two younger ones were down to their long-sleeve compression shirts despite the cold, sleeves rolled up their elbows, showing off strong forearms, various scars slashing across the discreet swirls of black ink from old tattoos. Some disappear under the black gloves they are all sporting. Sweat plasters the fabric of their shirts to their shoulders and chests. You can’t deny they look fucking good.

You had accepted Price’s demand without much after-thought, but now you couldn’t be more happy about it, ogling those four rugged men laboring away for you. Despite being older than his men, Price is far from looking bad. He’s built like a brick house, a healthy layer of fat covering muscles he’s been honing for two decades. Dark hair peaks from the open collar of his jacket, your eyes follow the line of the thin garment which is hugging his tapered waist, down to his thick thighs. Fuck. You remember what it was like to be close to him - literally and figuratively. He was your colleague, an equal, a couple years older than you but you shared the same rank. He was a mentor, a friend, a lover - only briefly, after that fateful mission where he saved your life on the field. You parted ways in good spirit after you announced that you wanted to retire, needed to get your head straight before committing to anything. Today, you ask yourself if maybe you could take this back from where you left it.

❄️

You want to train with us today, love? Just like old times.

Price had asked you the question the next morning and you had not been hard to convince. It was more about being able to look at them than to train your body, but they didn’t need to know that. Even if you keep a pretty healthy lifestyle, you can’t compete with elite soldiers, and by the fourth set of push-ups, your arms are giving out. You’re about to stop and reach for your water bottle, when Price notices.

“Come on, you can do five more, I’m sure!”

You groan in response, but you go back in position.

“Breathe, love. Back a little more straight. Elbows in. That’s it… Good.”

Price’s deep voice is calm as he’s encouraging you, gently correcting your posture.

“Don’t look down, chin up. Perfect, you’re doing good.” he goes on, and you cheeks warm under his praise, enough to make you forget the stinging cold. Your whole body is clenched with the effort, you’re letting out little cries with each push-up, your muscles are hurting, but you want nothing more than to make the captain proud.

“Just one more. Done! You did great darling, I’m impressed.”

He helps you get up on shaking legs and when you almost stumble, he secures you upright against his chest, keeps you there for two seconds more than he should for it to not look intentional. When you raise your head, you’re suddenly so close to his face, blue eyes staring down at you with a glint in them you can’t ignore. You reluctantly part before reaching for your water bottle again, playing coy.

The three others are not oblivious to the little game between you and Price. You notice how they exchange knowing looks and little smiles whenever you both interact. Worst, they also seem to pick up on your love for being praised and soon enough they take every excuse to whisper how good your aim still is during target training, or how smart you are for knowing everything about the local fauna during your afternoon hike. It never sounds like they’re mocking you though, never feels like it’s not genuine. It’s not fair, really. At this rate, you don’t know how you’re gonna survive living under the same roof with four attractive men for three entire weeks.

The answer to this torture of yours is revealed quickly. After a few days of acclimatization at your cottage, Price and his men are ready for a long expedition higher in the mountains, with just tents and even a short surviving-in-extreme-cold workshop. They will be gone for at least ten days. You watch them pack their gear and leave your place with a pinch in your heart you couldn’t expect when you first opened your door to them.

❄️

Days go by, pretty uneventful, until your heating system breaks down. It’s not the first time since you’re leaving up there, it’s not that scary but you’ll have to wait a few days for the repair team to come by. In the meantime, you resort to live and sleep in your living room, where the fireplace provides enough heat to keep you warm in the heart of the winter.

They come back the day after that, and when you see their silhouettes emerging from the treeline, just before the sun sets down, you can’t prevent your lips to form a smile so big it hurts your cheeks after a couple minutes standing in the biting cold.

The fondness in Price’s eyes is not dulled by the news your heater is out of order, nor is the relief on Soap’s and Gaz’s faces at the promise of a solid roof and comfy beds after days of rudimentary accommodations.

You all work to prepare some food, and to bring a couple mattresses with all the duvets you can find in front of the fireplace - the only sane solution for you all to sleep without suffering too much from the freezing temperatures. It reminds you of your years of service, when you sometimes had to share a single room with your whole squad - you’re not missing the stress and the harsh living conditions, but you’re definitely missing the camaraderie, the jokes and fits of laughter, the bodies of trusted people around you.

They leave you the couch - gentlemen that they are - the objectively most comfortable option, but once again you can’t find sleep. The piece of furniture is the farthest away from the fire, and you’re on your own, no one next to you to share body heat with you.

It’s only because I’m cold. That’s the poor excuse you give yourself - and the one you whisper to Price - when you step down from your couch to seek a place under the cover next to John. He’s sleeping next to Gaz; Soap and Ghost are sharing the other mattress. You slide yourself against him, immediately melting into his chest, the man radiating heat like it’s his only purpose in life. He doesn’t even have to ask you if it’s okay to hold you against him because you plaster yourself to him and nuzzle against his chest, old habits taking over your sleepy brain. A sense of safety and comfort envelopes you at the same time his warmth does. You forgot how good it felt to be in his embrace, to be tucked against his broad chest, surrounded by his smell - manly, ambery wood, and the rich spice of his cigars.

He chuckles silently as you settle at his side and let out a little content sigh. He missed that too, he won’t say it out loud, but having you like this, soft and pliant in his arms, it makes him wonder how he could be such a fool for not seeking you sooner. He suddenly wants to kiss you, to make you feel good, here and now, no matter the fact his men are sleeping just a few inches from you. Should he care? He’s not blind to the fact you spend a good amount of time leering at them since they’re here, and to the fact they are watching you back. He can not ignore the shameless flirting going on between all of you five actually. John has never really been in a situation like this, doesn’t know where this will lead him - where this could lead them. But he’s ready to follow you. He takes a deep breath before he talks.

“Just like old times?” He asks, voice low, chest vibrating with it under your palm.

Just like old times… The words echo in your head, echo in your heart. He gives you the opportunity to lead him - to lead them - wherever you wish.

“Just like old times.” You repeat back to him, before you capture his lips in a gentle kiss.

PART 2

#cod fanfiction #captain price x reader #polyamory #poly tf141 #poly 141 #price x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x soap #cod mw2 #cod modern warfare #call of duty fanfic #winter fics

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phenakistoskope · 4 months

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There is a difference between Bollywood and Bombay cinema?

listen, subcontinental cinema began in bombay; the very first exhibition of the lumieres' cinematographe was held there in 1896, a few months after its debut in paris, 1895. this event predates the discursive existence of bollywood and hollywood. shree pundalik and raja harishchandra, the films that are generally considered the very first subcontinental features were also exhibited there first.

subcontinental cinema under british colonialism was produced in certain metropolitan centers such as lahore, hyderabad, and calcutta; bombay was just one of them. in 1947, when the indian nation state was formally inaugurated, the idea of a "national cinema" began forming, but given the cultural and linguistic heterogeneity of the indian union, this was quite untenable. regional popular cinemas flourished well into the 1950, 60s, 70s, and 80s and various art cinemas began taking shape alongside.

under the economy that i'm going to completely elide as "nehruvian "socialism"" bombay cinema focused on broadly "socialist" themes, think of awara (1951), do beegha zameen (1953), pyaasa (1957), all of which focus on inequality in indian economy and society from different perspectives. these films were peppered in with historical dramas, and adaptations from literature, but the original stories tended towards socialist realism. reformist films centering the family generally waxed poetic on the need to reform the family, but i haven't seen enough of these to really comment on them.

the biggest hit of the 70s, sholay (1975) was about two criminals, posited as heroes fighting gabbar singh who was attacking village folk. deewar (1975) also had two heroes, and the stakes were the two brothers' father's reputation; the father in question was a trade union leader accused of corruption.

"alternative cinema" included mani kaul's uski roti (1969) and Duvidha (1973) both of which were situated away from the city. then there's sayeed mirza and his city films, most of them set in bombay; arvind desai ki ajeeb dastan (1978), albert pinto ko gussa kyun aata hain (1980), saleem langre pe mat ro (1989) which are all extremely socialist films, albert pinto was set in the times of the bombay textiles strike of 1982 and literally quotes marx at one point. my point is that bombay cinema prior to liberalization was varied in its themes and representations, and it wasn't interested in being a "national cinema" very much, it was either interested in maximizing its domestic profits or being high art. note that these are all hindi language films, produced in bombay, or at least using capital from bombay. pyaasa, interestingly enough is set in calcutta, but it was filmed in bombay!

then we come to the 1990s, and i think the ur example of the bollywood film is dilwale dulhania le jayenge (1995) which, in stark contrast to the cinema that preceded it, centered two NRIs, simran and raj, who meet abroad, but epitomize their love in india, and go back to england (america?) as indians with indian culture. this begins a long saga of films originating largely in bombay that target a global audience of both indians and foreigners, in order to export an idea of india to the world. this is crucial for a rapidly neoliberalizing economy, and it coincides with the rise of the hindu right. gradually, urdu recedes from dialogue, the hindi is sankritized and cut with english, the indian family is at the center in a way that's very different for the social reform films of the 50s and 60s. dil chahta hai (2001) happens, where good little indian boys go to indian college, but their careers take them abroad. swadesh (2004) is about shah rukh khan learning that he's needed in india to solve its problems and leaves a job at NASA.

these are incidental, anecdotal illustrations of the differences in narrative for these separate eras of cinema, but let me ground it economically and say that bollywood cinema seeks investments and profits from abroad as well as acclaim and viewership from domestic audiences, in a way that the bombay cinema before it did not, despite the success of shree 420 (1955) in the soviet union; there were outliers, there always have been.

there's also a lot to say about narrative and style in bombay cinema (incredibly diverse) and bollywood cinema (very specific use of hollywood continuity, intercut with musical sequences, also drawn from hollywood). essentially, the histories, political economies, and aesthetics of these cinemas are too differentiated to consider them the same. bombay cinema is further internally differentiated, and that's a different story altogether. look, i could write a monograph on this, but that would take time, so let me add some reading material that will elucidate this without sounding quite as fragmented.

bollywood and globalization: indian popular cinema, nation, and diaspora, rini bhattacharya mehta and rajeshwari v. pandharipande (eds)

ideology of the hindi film: a historical construction, madhav prasad

the 'bollywoodization' of the indian cinema: cultural nationalism in a global arena, ashish rajadhyaksha

the globalization of bollywood: an ethnography of non-elite audiences in india, shakuntala rao

indian film, erik barnouw and s. krishnaswamy (this one's a straight history of subcontinental cinema up to the 60s, nothing to do with bollywood, it's just important because the word bollywood never comes up in it despite the heavy focus on hindi films from bombay, illustrating my point)

#does this sound insane?#probably #this has been an effortpost #phenakistoskope.txt

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pitinthelanepages · 11 months

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Scouts Honour

pairing: oscar piastri x reader

summary: having to deal with drunk boyfriend oscar as the not so girly girlfriend who was in the middle of trying on a dress

genre: fluff

The sun began its descent, casting a warm golden glow that illuminated the room in a gentle radiance. You stood in front of the full-length mirror in your modest yet cosy apartment, a hint of uncertainty tugging at you as you held a delicate dress in your hands.

Your wardrobe predominantly consisted of hoodies, loose-fitting trousers, and comfortable sneakers. But today was different. Today, you had dared to venture into uncharted territory; an elegant dress you had impulsively bought. Its fabric, a silky cascade of midnight blue, shimmered with a touch of moonlit enchantment. You couldn't resist imagining yourself stepping into a world of elegance and grace.

With a mixture of anticipation and trepidation, you gingerly slipped into the dress, its smooth texture gliding against your skin like a whisper. You studied your reflection, the dress clinging to your figure, hugging curves you often concealed. The woman in the mirror looked foreign, yet undeniably radiant, your tousled hair adding a touch of untamed beauty to the overall ensemble.

Just as you were beginning to embrace this unfamiliar sight, your phone rang, jolting you from your reverie. You glanced at the screen, recognizing the caller ID: a group of friends who frequented the same club as your boyfriend, Oscar Piastri. Curiosity mingled with concern as you answered the call, their voices pouring through the receiver.

"Hey. It's us," one of the friends chimed, their words accompanied by a mix of laughter and urgency. "Oscar's had a bit too much to drink, and we need you to come pick him up. Can you make it?"

Your heart skipped a beat as a whirlwind of emotions surged within you; worry for Oscar's well-being, a sense of responsibility, and the need to be there for him. Without hesitation, you replied, your voice steady despite the slight tremor beneath the surface.

"Of course, I'll be there. Give me a few minutes, and I'll head over."

As you hung up the phone, your mind raced. You had no time to change out of the dress, to revert to your usual attire that would blend seamlessly with your usual identity. But there was no turning back now. You took a deep breath, summoning the courage to embrace this unexpected turn of events.

With newfound determination, you slipped on a pair of simple yet elegant heels, their presence a stark contrast to your typical footwear choices. You grabbed your keys, pausing for a brief moment to study your reflection once more. Your pulse quickened as you admired the reflection of the woman standing before you; someone both familiar and unknown, bridging the gap between your usual spirit and the allure of femininity.

As you arrived at the club, the rhythmic pulse of music reverberated through the air, sending tremors of anticipation cascading down your spine. You made your way through the crowd, navigating the sea of bodies, each step echoing the beat of your heart. And then, there he was.

Your eyes met, and an undeniable spark danced between you. Your heart skipped a beat as you saw Oscar's surprise and shyness in his gaze. He looked at you with a newfound appreciation, as if seeing you in a whole new light. You couldn't help but feel a blush creep onto your cheeks.

Approaching Oscar and his friends, your voice rang out, laced with a playful yet confident tone. "Hey there, troublemaker. Ready to go home?"

Oscar's friends exchanged amused glances, nudging him gently as they handed him over to you. His shyness grew apparent as he tried to hide behind them, a hint of bashfulness colouring his features. You couldn't help, but find him utterly endearing.

Gently, you reached out, your fingers brushing against his arm, a gentle reassurance amidst the crowd. "It's me, Oscar. Your girlfriend. I'm here to take care of you."

In that moment, Oscar's eyes lit up, and a warmth enveloped him. He pulled you into a tight embrace, refusing to let go. His grip conveyed a mixture of vulnerability and adoration, a silent gratitude for your presence.

As you wrapped your arm around Oscar's waist, you could feel the weight of his head resting against your shoulder, his warm breath tickling your neck.

Oscar's voice slurred as he mumbled, "You're so pretty. I've never seen you in a dress before."

You chuckled softly, your voice tinged with affection. "Well, surprises are good, aren't they? Thought I'd switch things up tonight."

Oscar's fingers traced gentle circles on your back, his touch igniting a cascade of sensations within you. "You look amazing, babe. Can't take my eyes off you."

Your cheeks flushed as you replied, "You're just saying that because you've had a few drinks."

"Nah, it's true," Oscar insisted, his voice filled with earnestness. "You're like a beautiful dream come true."

With each giggle that escaped your lips, a delicate melody of joy filled the air. The sound was contagious, eliciting smiles from bystanders and lightening the heavy atmosphere. You couldn't help but be overwhelmed by the sight of Oscar, his shy yet adoring gaze fixed upon you.

You whispered playfully, "What's gotten into you, Oscar? I've never seen you so shy."

He chuckled softly, the sound tinged with embarrassment. "Guess you just caught me off guard, seeing you all dolled up like this. Didn't know my tomboyish girlfriend could look so stunning."

You emerged from the club's entrance into the cool night air. The touch of Oscar's fingers against your back, as if seeking solace in your presence, resonated deeply within you.

Oscar's voice carried a hint of vulnerability. "Thank you for being here for me. I feel safe with you."

Your grip tightened, your voice filled with warmth. "Always, Oscar. That's what partners do. We take care of each other."

As you finally reached the car, you gently guided Oscar into the passenger seat, his clinginess not relenting. You settled in behind the wheel, your fingers brushing against his cheek in a tender gesture before starting the engine. The touch of your fingers interlaced on the gear shift filled the car with warmth.

Oscar's voice was soft, almost childlike. "Don't let go of me. I don't want this night to end."

You smiled, your voice filled with reassurance. "I won't, Oscar. I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

And as you drove towards Oscar's apartment, the quiet hum of the engine providing a soothing backdrop, you couldn't help but steal glances at him. His head leaned against the window, his eyes drifting in and out of focus. It was evident that the alcohol had taken its toll on him, and your heart swelled with a mix of tenderness and concern.

Once you arrived at his apartment building, you helped Oscar out of the car, his unsteady steps mirroring the vulnerability he exhibited. You both slowly made your way to his apartment, you supporting him every step of the way, your touch a gentle reassurance amidst the haze of intoxication.

Finally inside, you guided Oscar towards his bedroom, your movements unhurried and filled with a sense of care. You eased him down onto the edge of the bed, his legs dangling off the side. His gaze remained fixed on you, his eyes reflecting a deep admiration that made your heart flutter.

Bashfully, you averted your eyes, a soft smile gracing your lips. "Oscar, you should really get some rest. I'll help you get ready for bed."

Oscar's grip tightened around your wrist, his gaze still intense. "Don't leave. Stay with me."

Your cheeks flushed, and you could feel your pulse quicken at his words. You swallowed nervously, voice barely above a whisper. "I... I can't stay the whole night. But I'll make sure you're comfortable before I go."

Oscar reluctantly released his hold on your wrist as you crouched down to untie his shoes. You carefully slipped them off, placing them neatly beside the bed. Then, you stood up, your eyes meeting Oscar's once more.

"You should take off your shirt too, Oscar," you suggested softly. "You'll sleep more comfortably without it."

Oscar's gaze never wavered as he nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Okay, but only if you stay with me."

You rolled your eyes playfully, a mixture of shyness and affection colouring your expression. "Fine, but no staring this time."

With a mischievous grin, Oscar lied down on the bed, watching intently as you pulled the duvet over him, ensuring he was snug and warm. You lingered for a moment, your hand brushing gently against his cheek, your touch tender and reassuring.

Just as you were about to turn off the bedside lamp, Oscar's hand shot out, clasping around your wrist. His gaze held a silent plea, an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. Your voice caught in your throat, your eyes widening slightly.

"Oscar, I really have to go now," you stammered, your shyness evident in your tone. "I can't sleep in this dress."

A mischievous twinkle flickered in Oscar's eyes as he chuckled softly. "Well, you can borrow one of my shirts. It'll be oversized for you anyway, and you'll be more comfortable."

You hesitated for a moment, contemplating his offer. The thought of wearing one of Oscar's shirts felt strangely intimate, like borrowing a piece of his world. But as your gaze met his, the genuine affection in his eyes, you made up your mind.

"Alright," you finally replied, your voice filled with a mix of shyness and trust. "But you have to close your eyes. No peeking."

Oscar grinned mischievously, closing his eyes obediently. You turned towards his wardrobe, searching for a shirt that would fit your frame. You found a white shirt, soft and well-worn, with the faint scent of Oscar's cologne lingering on the fabric.

As you slipped off your dress and replaced it with his shirt, you couldn't help but feel a surge of vulnerability. The shirt engulfed you, the sleeves extending past your fingertips, the hem falling to your mid-thigh. It was an intimate gesture, an exchange of comfort and trust between them.

With a quick glance at Oscar, your cheeks reddened as you mumbled, "I'm changing here, but you better keep your eyes closed."

Oscar's lips curled into a playful grin as he responded, "Scouts honour. Not peeking."

Once you were dressed, you turned off the bedside lamp, casting the room into a soft, dim glow. With a playful roll of your eyes, you returned to the bed, slipping beneath the covers. You settled beside Oscar, your bodies inches apart.

As you closed your eyes, ready to drift into sleep, a gentle whisper escaped your lips. "Goodnight, Oscar."

His hand found yours, intertwining your fingers as he replied softly, "Goodnight, babe. Thank you for taking care of me."

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 writing #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 x you #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri scenario #oscar piastri fic #oscar piastri fanfic

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chrollohearttags · 7 months

Text

kinktober day one

character: choso kamo

show: jujutsu kaisen

kink: pegging

word count: 1.7K

other themes + warnings: male sub, anal play, (obv) mommy kink, oral sex, strap on, spit play, choking, dom reader, overstimulation, cumshot, slapping

📝: some of my stuff I’ll be posting is inspired by videos so I’ll try to link the sauce material if I find it and this one happened to be inspired by this. Enjoy 🌚 (nsfw link btw! click with caution)

── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.───── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.───── ･

dating choso kamo was an experience like none other you’ve had before..being with him had taught you so many things you’d never even thought to imagine. He brought forth shades of you that possibly may have never been revealed otherwise and although some may say, you two had no business being together…you could care less nor did you pay any mind to the chatter about him ‘below your standards’ or ‘not enough’. It was the furthest thing from and as far as you were concerned, he was perfect for you! The yin to your yang..a grade A stereotypical goth with his black clothing, painted nails and fishnets..along with tattoos lining his arm and his affinity for the guitar. A stark contrast to your more dainty and soft aesthetic; blazers and plaid skirts filled your wardrobe along with babydoll platforms and lighter colors. Mirroring that of every quintessential ‘pastel gf/goth bf’ meme when together..even so, the love you shared was equally reciprocated and abundant on every level. Despite your obvious differences in personality, appearance and even interests. But there was one thing you found common ground on..something that would shock anyone who knew you for your outward appearances.

“Open up, baby boy…gonna get it nice and wet for me, right?”

“Mmphm..yes..”

a pair that by all accounts, regardless of contrast..looked innocuous, sweet and so delicate. Little did anyone know that once you got behind closed doors, those masks were peeled away and the facades faded rather quickly. More so, when it came to being in the bedroom. Most would probably guess that your grungy, dark eyed stud took the reins between the sheets. Probably a more softer, sweeter dom with a gentle approach but still in charge nonetheless. However…they’d be sadly mistaken! Especially considering the fact that you were gently stroking the side of his face whilst he sucked off the silicone cock you had harnessed to your thick thighs. The two of you had just come home from a rather eventful Halloween party..drunk and dressed in rather salacious costumes. You in a sexy demon costume that left little to the imagination and Cho in his incubus get up with wings included. Truthfully, (y/n) had dreamt of seducing and dominating your man for a long time and this was the perfect excuse. Wondering just how well he’d fair when he was no longer in control. As it turned out, he loved it far more than anticipated. So much so, each time you guys got intimate, Choso insisted that you take the lead. Whatever you wanted, he was at your whim and mercy.

currently seated on all fours, he’d take subtle kitten licks at the tip before taking it a little further. Hand rested atop his head as you guided him along so carefully..akin to the many times he had done the same to you. Watching those pouty little lips of his coil around that plastic shaft and glide across all eight inches. “Look at you..so cute and pathetic. Sucking on this dick like a good boy. Are you enjoying yourself? You like pleasing mommy, don’t you?” Cooing with such a seductive tone and he loved it. If he knew what was good for him, he’d get it nice and slicked up..with his back slightly arched and hands planted into the mattress, he’d focus intensely on slurping up that fictitious dick; allowing you to fuck his mouth with as much subtly or force as you pleases. He was your bitch..your toy to mold and play with at your leisure. Behind these four walls, without judgemental eyes to pry, you made love the way you saw fit.

“Good job, baby..you took the whole thing that time. And you didn’t even gag..you’re learning.” Offering up an encouraging smile and swipe of a thumb across his pale cheek. Your thumb rested between his teeth before being replaced by your strap on yet again. You could see him discreetly attempting to cup at his own member. What he wouldn’t give to jerk himself as he worshiped your perfect physique before him; perfectly round, big tits, brown, supple skin and dark areolas with puffy nipples. Nipples he wished to flick his tongue around as you bounced him up and down on that dildo. It would be nothing short of a dream but alas, it was a mere privilege. And privileges were earned. Getting to touch you in any capacity right now was something he’d have to work hard for. However, you wanted to explore a little more of that sexy body. You wanted to see how he’d deal with being placed on all fours, waiting to be mounted as you gripped his waist and he tossed his ass back..you surely were about to find out!

“..turn around, baby boy. I think you’re ready for me now..” giving the command to face towards the scattered plushies strewn about your bed and the wall as you saddled up behind him. With a quick tug to his neatly tied pigtails, you’d snatch his head back just so you could watch his initial reaction when you slid in.

“Mmm…fuck—wanna be so full of you right now..” the uttering of that phrase alone causing your pussy to quiver. You were a leaking mess between your thighs and had those straps not been in the way, you’d be trying to get off as well but right now, it was his turn to be slutted out. “Don’t worry, my sweet love. I’m gonna take such good care of you..just relax.” Giving him a barrage of reassuring, sloppy kisses. So with that, you’d prompt him to place his hands on both asscheeks behind his back and spread them open. That puckering little entrance was practically twitching for you to get inside of him. Whereas many men would shy away from the idea of being impaled on a cock, Choso knew that the ultimate pleasure lay in that exact spot. He wasn’t ashamed of getting stuffed full to fulfill his desires. Panting like a stray pup, he’d wait patiently as you slicked it up with lube and even massaged some onto his entrance. The sheer sensation of the cooling liquid made him shudder but you were quick to massage his skin..hoping to quell that anxiety. Leaning forward, (y/n) clutched three fingers around his throat, slightly tilting his head backwards before teasing that tip around the rim of his little entrance.

“Ooh, Cho..you’re so handsome, baby boy..so fucking cute like this.”

and it was that exact declaration that had him ready to be used any way you desired. And seconds after uttering so—

“G’ahh! F-fuck!” A loud cry erupted from his mouth; gentle whimpers falling from those pouty, trembling lips as you impaled him on that toy and tugged him back towards you. “But you look even cuter getting fucked.” Coaxing a chuckle from you whilst bucking your hips forward..those long fingernails coiled throughout his wavy black locks as you used them to keep him controlled, along with a hand on the small of his back. You tried your hardest to mirror his own rhythm but soon, you found a pace of your own that worked for both of you..especially when you could hear your boyfriend whining and crying out for more. It was something so hot about watching this man writhe his hips and try to wiggle his ass to meet your thrusts. You’d lean up a little to spit onto his orifice, giving him a little extra wetness.

“Yeah? That feel good, baby? You’re doing sooo good taking mommy’s strap right now. I love it..” receiving that type of praise from you had Choso ready to burst right now but he exercised restraint and just clasped the pillows in front of him as he tried to maintain that arch. His own cock was throbbing and his prostate being stimulated beyond relief. He was a firm believer that every man should try this at least once!.. “..th—thank you..thank you so much…fucking me so good.” So desperate for a release as that pressure began to build. He looked so utterly pathetic, it was adorable. Remnants of his eyeliner staining his cheeks and those guttural groans becoming louder by the second. Clutching a hand around his throat, you’d tug him back even further and impale that toy deeper. “So gracious…just for that, jerk that dick for me, baby. C’mon, stroke that shit while I fuck this little ass. I know you wanna come so badly..” and that would be an understatement; crying out, Choso hooked a hand underneath his torso and began to rub the tip of his cock in his palms, letting that seeping precum lubricate his palm. Eventually, he’d speed up a little as it was all he could bear. But that wouldn’t last long when you’d begin to dote on him.

“It’s okay, baby boy..you can come. It’s okay to nut from getting fucked like this. As long as you feel good, that’s all that matters..nothing to be ashamed of..”

it was at that moment, he’d begun to lose control and began shaking, so close to reaching his orgasm. Legs trembling, arch breaking and his balls swollen to the brim. Once you gave him the signal and permission to let go, he didn’t hesitate and before you knew it:

“G-g..GAHHHH! Fuck!” It was as if something had shattered inside of him at that very second and his warm, juicy load began to spill all over your bed sheets. Opaque cream meshing with the pink linen..a dumbed out expression on his face and tears rolling down his cheek. You’d make haste in comforting him as you leaned forward and placed a kiss to his temple before letting your lips meet in a haze of sloppy, passionate kisses. He was so elated and in indescribable ecstasy right now. Nothing felt better than this!

“I love you…I love you so fucking much..”

“I love you more, Cho..you did so good, I’m so proud of you..”

and you’d help bring him to this climatic high anytime he wanted.

@greenieweeniesworld @spaceforher @anubisisthebomb @crazychaoticizzy @makaylasierra789 @momobaby227 @certified-stargirl @thickbihhwitdagapp @kameko-ko @valentineluvu @mukurosbracup @prettypink-princesss @bleach-your-panties

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neonghostlights · 10 months

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I seriously love all the fics u write especially wasted years. I had this idea of rockstar eddie finally getting tired of hooking up with groupies and random celebrities and wanting to settle down with Reader. Hes really sweet and in love with her but everytime they go out one of his hook ups confronts him again or hes constantly getting dms or texts from previous situationships and shes just so over it and feels she cant compare to celebrities or beautiful groupies and he feels terrible cuz he really wants to be with reader. Happy ending as always. 🖤

Hiii! Thank you so much❤️ you have no clue how much that means to me. I wanted to keep this a little different from Wasted Years so I made it modern!rockstar!Eddie Munson x Teacher!Reader (a series I wanted to write but never got around to. who knows, maybe I'll write it some day)

Warnings: jealousy, poor self image, insecurity, break ups, crying, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort 18+ only

Wordcount: 2.7k

Show Off

The tabloids never cared about you. You could be a fly buzzing by Eddie’s pretty curly hair for all they cared.

In the past year and a half that you two had been together, you had been ignored, cropped out of pictures and shoved to the side by paparazzi and touchy fans alike.

You usually didn’t mind being on the sidelines. He was famous before he met you and he would be famous after you. You signed up for this.

It was fate, the way you and Eddie met. Or maybe it was just a coincidence; just the way life went. But you liked to think it was fate.

You had found yourself dragged to a music event by a coworker that you had just met. You were new to the school as a middle school teacher and joining a tight knit group of coworkers was scary. You had no idea that Robin, the music teacher at your school, knew one of the bands playing and was actually friends with them.

You didn’t know what to expect when she had dragged you backstage to say hi to her friend. You had heard the name Eddie Munson before, had seen the photos of him on social media, but past that you weren’t much of a fan. Although, you had to admit you did discover that you had a few Corroded Coffin songs in your playlist once you did some digging. When Eddie found that out he thought it was hilarious.

Sparks flew when he shook your hand. At first, you thought that it was something that only you had felt. You were ready to brush it off as being star struck. But when he had asked for your number before you left, you knew he felt it too.

The rest was history. A year and a half later you were happily in a relationship with a rockstar. At first, you thought it was a joke. Why would a hot rockstar want to date a middle school teacher from a small town? But Eddie proved to you over and over again that he was serious about you and him.

When people close to you found out that you and Eddie were dating, they thought you were lying and tried to laugh it off. Then, when they realized you were telling the truth they pitied you. You were fed rumor after rumor of what they had heard Eddie Munson gets up to in his free time from the partying to the groupies.

You would be lying if you said it didn’t bother you to hear that the man you loved was so desired by the world. There was a stark contrast between the rumors and the man you grew to love though.

Eddie would fly you out to see him in LA often. He had begged you to move out there with him full time. You wanted to, but you at least wanted to finish off the school year. You didn’t want to have to put the kids through the trials of a new teacher.

It was currently spring break and you were on a two week trip to LA to visit Eddie. You had arrived earlier that day and were currently sitting at a restaurant together. It was one of those fancy ones, with the thick white table cloths and the waiters in suits and ties. The spot was popular for LA stars to frequent.

Eddie had insisted you looked so beautiful that he needed to take a picture of you as soon as you got to the table. You knew how this worked, he would take the picture and set it as his new background on his phone until he got a new picture of you that he swore was the best of all time. Pictures of you never ended up on his social media. He wanted to keep your relationship private, which you understood. But sometimes you wanted to be bragged about. You wanted the world to know that Eddie was spoken for. But it was his choice.

“How was your week?” Eddie asked as you were waiting for your food to arrive.

You sighed, not wanting to complain but this school year was eating you alive. Middle schoolers were a tough group to control sometimes and more often than not you were coming home with a massive migraine and an existential crisis.

“It’s okay, I guess. Testing is coming up and I feel like the principal is practically breathing down my neck. I’m so ready for summer break,” you admitted with a small smile. Summer break meant staying up here with Eddie full time. Something that you were both terrified and excited for.

Eddie nodded in understanding. He knew how much your job stressed you out. “It’ll get better soon. Just think, this summer me and you are going to be so relaxed. We can lay out by the pool everyday and go to the beach. I’ll even get you a shelf for all of your books. Hell, I’ll get you a whole room for all of your books.”

You let out a quick snort of a laugh. “Are you offering to build me a library to try to coerce me into moving in with you?”

“Is it working?” He asked with a smirk as he leaned back in his chair, one arm laid against the table.

You reached to take his hand in yours, to tell him that he didn’t have to flash his money or offer to buy you things to have your affection but when you reached your hand for him another hand had appeared, and it was currently rubbing your boyfriends arm.

You recognized her from instagram. She was a model and had been rumored to be with Eddie in some capacity before you and him had gotten together. You never asked him about it, not wanting to know about his previous hookups. Your heart wouldn’t be able to handle it.

You and Eddie made quick eye contact before turning and facing one of the most beautiful women you had ever seen in your life. Eddie looked up at the woman, probably just thinking it was a fan with poor boundaries. His face turned to panic when he realized what was happening.

Eddie moved his arm from her grasp quickly, shooting an apologetic look to you.

“Eddie,” she cooed. Even her voice was pretty. “So happy to see you here.”

Eddie cleared his throat. This was fucking awkward. “Nice to see you too, Claire,” he said politely. He held eye contact with you like he was telepathically trying to send you a message.

She seemed to have expected a bigger reaction from him based on the way she frowned slightly before smoothing her features. She followed his line of sight to you and you couldn’t help but squirm a little under her stare.

“Aw, you’re taking your assistant out for dinner? That’s so sweet,” she said, manicured fingers tapping against the table cloth.

Eddie’s politeness leached away at her words. The dinner plates arrived at the table and the waiter seemed to be as enthralled by her beauty as everyone else was. It felt like the whole restaurant was staring in your direction.

You looked down at what you were wearing. Eddie had bought you this dress as a surprise and you thought it was so pretty. You had followed a makeup tutorial to the best of your ability when you were getting ready earlier. You didn’t end up looking quite like the woman in the video but you thought you had done a decent enough job. Your hair hadn’t been done professionally lately so it was a little dull. You had just been too busy with work to keep up with your appearance. Eddie never seemed to mind how you looked so it wasn’t a priority. Maybe you were mistaken.

“Nice to see you but I want to eat my dinner now,” Eddie said coolly. His tone was calm but his face wasn’t.

Claire scrunched her face up at this, like she couldn’t understand why he wasn’t taking the bait. “Well, I’m sure I’ll be seeing you soon,” she said before scurrying away at his dark look.

Eddie let out a deep breath that he had been holding in. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t think anyone would interrupt us.”

“It’s okay,” you said with a wave of your hand. “I just wanna eat before it gets cold.”

Eddie agreed, but his eyes lingered on your face for a bit. If he noticed how you were feeling he didn’t say anything.

It didn’t hit you until after the bill was paid and you were leaving the restaurant that he never corrected Claire when she called you his assistant.

The next day you woke up to Eddie peppering your face with kisses. You stretched, feeling the release of your joints popping.

“That was a good one,” Eddie commented after a particularly loud pop of your back.

“What time is it?” You yawned.

“Early. I got a call to head down to the studio for a bit this morning. There seems to be some sort of crisis they need my input on. I promise it’ll probably be about an hour. I’ll bring some coffee from that place you like back.Will you be okay if you’re alone here for a bit?” He asked while rubbing your lower back.

You shot him a shy smile. “Can I have a muffin too?”

Eddie laughed. “Of course.”

Eddie got ready and was out the door before you knew it with promises to bring you back all the muffins in the world.

You climbed out of bed, too awake to go back to sleep and went to the living room. You melted into Eddie’s soft couch with a blanket and book. You were content until your phone started to ding.

Robin: You’re with Eddie in LA right?

You: Yes. Miss me already?

Robin: Okay. I saw something this morning that was weird and wanted to check with you.

You: Weird? What was it?

Robin: Google Eddie.

You immediately swiped open your browser and typed in Eddie’s name. The first result was his wikipedia page, and then underneath were a row of gossip sites with updates from early that morning. You clicked the first one to be greeted by a picture of Eddie and Claire at the restaurant the night before.

Her hand was on his arm and she was smiling down at him with a salacious look. Eddie had just turned his head with a polite smile on his face. You remembered when this happened, it was just before he realized who was touching him.

Someone must have snuck a picture right when she got to the table. It had been taken at the perfect angle so you weren’t seen in the picture at all, not even the back of your head.

‘Love is in the air for these two. Model and Rockstar spotted on romantic date.’

The words burned your eyeballs as you read them. Was it really so unbelievable that you and Eddie were together that they completely dismissed the possibility that he was on a date with you instead.

You knew it was a mistake but you had to check and see what was being said on social media. You immediately went to Eddie’s page and clicked on his most recent photo. Underneath was thousands of comments, but the one to stick out the most to you was from this morning. Claire had commented a row of fire emojis right around the time the gossip sites started posting the photo, adding fuel to the rumor.

How stupid of you to think that you could compete in Eddie’s world? There were beautiful women practically fighting to get near him and here you sat in your pajamas on his couch looking like a wreck. Even when you did try it obviously wasn’t good enough for Eddie or the world.

You jumped off the couch, your socks skidding across the floor.

You needed to get out of here. You couldn’t breathe in this house anymore surrounded by Eddie’s things. You wondered what the people back home thought, the few that knew you and Eddie were together. Were they laughing at your pathetic attempt at happiness? Did they know the whole time that this was going to fail?

You ripped your suitcase out of the closet. You hadn’t even had the chance to unpack anything yet. Eddie had put it in the closet as soon as you got there, joking that if he hid it from you then you wouldn't ever be able to go home.

You pushed the thought out of your head as you grabbed a few toiletries that you had brought and through them in your bag. The sound of the front door opening and closing had you freezing.

“Babe?” Eddie called through the house. “I hope you can eat four muffins because they had a lot of different new ones to try- What are you doing?” He finally asked when he reached the bedroom. He held a paper bag in one hand and a tray of iced coffees in the other. He set them down on top of his dresser.

You turned away from him, not able to look him in the eye as you did this. “I’m going home, Eddie.”

“What? Why?”

“I just, uh, I don’t think this is working out. I’m sorry,” you cried, wiping your tears as quickly as they came.

“Is this because I left this morning? I told them not to bother me anymore. I’m sorry, baby,” he said as he wrapped an arm around you. You cried even harder. You were breaking up with him and he was still just trying to comfort you.

“Why am I a secret?” You asked into his shirt.

“What?” He pulled you away from him so he could look at your teary face. “You are not a secret.”

“No one knows about me. Everyone thinks you’re with a model even though I was right there. Even she thought I was your assistant and you didn’t even correct her. You don’t ever post me. It’s like you want people to think you’re single,” you accused.

Eddie’s face fell. “That’s not true. We go places together in public. You know I don’t post you because I don’t want people in our relationship. You’re the most important thing to me and I don’t want it to be ruined by all the bullshit.” He waved his hand in the air as he spoke.

“I’m not good enough,” you told him, grabbing onto your suitcase again.

“That’s a lie. You are good enough. You’re the only good thing I have, baby. Please.” Eddie was crying now too. It ripped your heart out to see.

You let go of your suitcase, rushing towards him and wrapping your arms around him. You squeezed him tight like you were hoping that would help put his tears back in place. You felt awful now that you had made him cry. You had expected him to not care if you left. You thought that it would be freeing for him to be without you.

“Please don’t cry,” your voice came out muffled against him. “This is my fault.”

“This is not your fault,” he told you. “It’s mine. I was so worried about protecting you that I didn’t take into account how it felt for you.”

“It’s just, it’s not a secret that you were with a lot of beautiful women before me. It hurts to think that they think they can still get with you.”

“Baby, I know I have a past but they don’t compare to you. You are all I have wanted for the past year and a half and you’re all I’m gonna want for the rest of my life,” he admitted.

“The rest of your life?”

“Why do you think I’m trying to get you to move in here so bad?”

You sighed, wiping your tears against his shirt. “I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry. I love you,” he said as he tilted your face up to meet his.

“I love you too,” you sighed as your lips met his.

Later that night, the internet went crazy when a photo of Eddie’s beautiful girlfriend was posted on social media, introducing you to the world as the one that stole his heart.

#eddie munson x y/n #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x reader #modern!rockstar!eddie munson x teacher!reader #modern!rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie munson x reader #rockstar!eddie munson x you #eddie munson x you #eddie munson au #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson angst #eddie munson request

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anthurak · 7 months

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I’ve been thinking about Marceline’s flashbacks in Obsidian and how her mother was dying of what seems to have been radiation poisoning or something similar, while Marceline was fine. Like in hindsight, I think it’s easy to guess that Marceline’s demonic physiology made her immune to radiation sickness and other similar ailments.

And it’s not just the sickness either. I think looking back at these scenes, we can see a very notable contrast in how Marceline and Elise are able to each cope with the Bad Lands. We see Elise needing to use a walking stick to traverse the sands and a patched-together hood to try and avoid exposure to the oppressive heat and sunlight, while Marceline seems wholly unbothered by any of that.

When the pair are attacked by the mutant ‘Waazup’ Coyote, Elise is basically helpless, losing her stick and being pinned to the ground, meanwhile Marceline is unfazed by the hit she takes from the Coyote and proceeds to easily kill it with her soul-sucking.

Even the events which lead to the attack show a clear contrast between the two: While Marceline is just happy to see a ‘funny looking puppy’, Elise is fearful and attacks the pup, thereby antagonizing its mother.

The differences here feel very apparent: Whereas the normal human Elise struggles and ultimately fails to survive, Marceline seems to be able to get by with little trouble at all. Going past Obsidian, I think we see much the same with Simon, with the Crown’s magic almost certainly making him immune to radiation poisoning, exposure and any number of other things that would grievously harm normal humans. And just like with Marceline’s soul-sucking, when Simon actually uses the Crown, he’s able to wipe out the attacking oozers and likely most any other threat in the wasteland with ease.

What I think we see here is a stark indicator of just how much the world has changed. In this new world created by the mushroom war, the ‘normal’ humans of old struggle simply to survive. Meanwhile, those who would likely be considered ‘inhuman’ like Marceline, Simon, the mutated creatures and others not only survive but can even thrive in this new world.

It all feels like a precursor of what we see in the modern-day of Ooo. Where the ‘normal’ humans of old are barely a distant, faded memory. And it is the Mutated, the Magic, the Cursed, the Demonic and so much else that would seem strange and horrifying to the humans of old have now become the new ‘normal’. To the point where even the humans that have survived the last thousand years only barely resemble their distant ancestors in their society and culture. And ironically, it is the non-human residents of Ooo who have a culture and society that more closely resembles that of old humanity.

To the point where a ‘normal’ modern-day human like Simon in Fionna and Cake feels strange and out of place.

#adventure time #adventure time rambling #adventure time analysis #marceline abadeer #marceline the vampire queen #adventure time elise #marceline's mom #simon petrikov

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ingravinoveritas · 2 months

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So I just wanna ask u just does this look like a real happy healthy relationship and in love with each or just put on for show for the fans and why do I feel like she making it all about her again and reminded everyone who she with it feels micheal was forced in the pictures taking with her the red carpet photo she looked bored and annoyed cos michael not paying any attention he just look miserable but I bet if it was David standing there instead of anna his face would be beaming like the one Georgia posted of them 4 together micheal face is electric and see how he lean toward David that best friend goals and I just love seeing them together cos that when he at his most happiness place

Also I find it strange that Anna was left out in staged scene but David wife gerogia made appearance doesn't that strike u as odd and gerogia brought the plus one date a girl could have and it wasnt anna yet they call each other wife clearly not as close etc then David and Michael are it seems.

And did u notice in the scene with David and Tom hiddleson about the dog sitter initially could present as benign and then he and the dog get up to all kinds of hijinks and ultimately disrupt stuffy old Michael sheen boring life but for the better like why put that in the script maybe his life with anna is boring and only staying cos he feels he needs too for the young children what do u think of all this

From @amata-haan along with a screenshot of the group photo:

(Grouping all of these together since it seems we've got a bit to talk about here.)

So, the biggest point of discussion seems to be the group pic that Georgia posted, and I will put up a larger size of that for us to discuss:

When I saw that Georgia had posted this in an Insta story, of course my first thought was "Finally a picture of Michael and David together!" I think that was what we were all hoping for all night, to where it was almost glaring that we hadn't gotten one when the event ended (until Georgia's post, that is).

The second thing that came to mind is what you alluded to @moriarty-sisters, about this being a near repeat of what we've seen a few times before (first at the NTAs in 2021, and then the group photo Georgia posted on Michael's birthday, that appears to have been taken after Michael went to see Macbeth):

Every time, Georgia is on the right. Every time, she and Anna have the same tight smiles while Michael and David have huge grins on their faces. At this point, it feels intentional, because twice might be a coincidence, but three times is a plan. There are slight differences to the vibes in each picture--although Georgia looks like she knows a secret and Michael and David look like a very happy couple in every one of them--but last night's group pic was...something.

Which takes me to your comment @phantomstars24 about how Michael is holding AL. I was under the impression that he had his hand on her waist, but if he is touching her breast, I'm perplexed at that being her reaction. She looks stiff and like a deer caught in the headlights, and regardless of where Michael's hand is, it doesn't seem like that's a great way to look when your own boyfriend is touching you. Adding to the strange optics is the fact that Michael is actually leaning toward David in the picture and away from her. It looks like his arm/shoulder is pressing into David and there isn't a millimeter of space between them, yet he seems to be a mile away from Anna despite having an arm around her.

(And none of this is even touching on Georgia using the theme song from Friends in the Insta story for the group pic, which she had to know we would all notice...)

So yes, a lot of thoughts on the group pic, but overall delighted to see Michael and David looking so happy next to each other. Especially Michael, in stark contrast to how he looked in some of the other pictures.

Speaking of which...I briefly talked about Michael and AL at the BAFTAs yesterday here and here, so I will try not to repeat myself too much in this part of my answer. But what I think we are seeing is two things: Anna's fantasy of what she thinks her and Michael's relationship is, and the reality of what we saw at the BAFTAs.

I think in AL's mind, she and Michael were like Georgia and David. But if we are going to say that Georgia and David were very loving and sweet together on the red carpet yesterday--which they absolutely were, with the kiss they shared and David comforting Georgia when she was experiencing anxiety--then there is no way you can look at the pictures of Michael and Anna and see the same thing. Even without bringing GT/DT into it, there is a massive, marked difference between pictures of Michael with AL vs. pictures of him with literally anyone else (such as this pic with Hannah Waddingham).

Looking at Anna's pictures that she posted, every one of them seems to be about ownership, right down to the Insta story with the #mine hashtag (which again seems to be her copying Georgia, also on the night of an award ceremony). The vibe that I got was of a teenager who'd won a date with her favorite celebrity and took him to the prom. Ultimately, though, she looked out of place, and he looked uncomfortable with her, both of which are a remarkable feat after five years of a relationship.

The pictures also repeated themes we've seen before (AL has previously posted a picture of her kissing Michael's cheek where he looks equally withdrawn; the photo in the car on the way to the event is a copy of pictures Georgia has posted of her and David in the car on the way to events) and speak to that idea of pushing a certain narrative, despite neither one of them appearing to sell it very well.

To that end, and to your comments @lepqueen and @turquoisedata, I would agree with you that it looks like AL is trying to mark her territory. The problem is that Michael had more chemistry just talking with David in that opening BAFTAs sketch than he did with Anna the entire night, and she was frequently left looking like she had no idea what she was doing or why she was there. Another example of this is an Insta story she posted earlier today that again demonstrated her main interest in the relationship:

What's particularly noteworthy is the follow up Insta story on the right, which I couldn't believe she actually posted. I think that if you are fine and happy with the narrative you've put out, you are not going to be bothered by or salty about a comment like that, and AL clearly was. And all of this then casts at least some doubt that the pictures she posted are really telling the whole story. Just a recap of what we do know about last night (and if I am forgetting anything, someone please let me know):

- Anna was the only principal member of the cast who was not in the Staged-themed opening sketch, despite being in all three seasons of the show. - Anna was not seated next to Michael during the in person part of the opening sketch, despite there being no reason the producers couldn't have put her next to him even as a seat filler. - Georgia brought her friend Daisy Aitkens as a +1 and sat with her instead of Anna, leaving us with the above picture of AL sitting alone and staring straight ahead while in the background of a Michael J. Fox picture (that she is acting like is a picture of her with him, instead of her photobombing a picture of MJF with his wife). - During the show, the camera repeatedly cut to Michael in the audience when there was no reason to do so, but did not show Anna on camera once.

So yes, I think that if last night at the BAFTAs was somehow AL's attempt to mark her territory/assert her place in the UK acting industry, it did not seem to go over well. I think David and Georgia's relationship and Michael and David's relationship emerged even stronger than before, and unfortunately AL and Michael's relationship did not and does not compare.

My apologies for rambling on, as I never intended for this to get so long. As I've said before, this is all just my opinion, and I know I could be completely wrong, so I'm glad as always to hear from my followers with your thoughts. Thanks for writing in! x

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azulock · 2 months

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WHEN I SAW YOUR REQS ARE OPEN, I GOT A LIL BIT EXITED EHUEHUE. Imagine beign shidou's HOT AF gf and shidou keeps talking about you too sae about having threesome and sae be like "i dont belive you have a pretty gf" and when he saw u, he went like "deal." IT CAN BE DRABBLE OR JUST HEADCANONS OF RELATIONSHIP WITH THEM ETC. IDK AND IGNORE IF YOU DONT WANT TO. love you bbg 😈🔥🗣💯

You know I could write something better for this but I'm having a hard time right now, so I'm gonna keep it in my head, who knows, maybe someday that smut comes out. Now LETS GOOOO BABES <3

Honestly, Shidou probably has pestered Sae so much that at this point he doesn't even listen to what the guy has to say

So, when the pink haired freak gives Sae a break the man can barely understand why this miracle happened, but he is happy anyway

Soon he learns Shidou got a girlfriend, and he supposes this is gonna be the end of it, he's gonna be free

But it doesn't last, and not very long after the miracle happens, it ends, except this time Shidou pulls up with a different talk

At any chance, Shidou tries to tell Sae about you, and about how fucking hot you are, not that Sae is big on listening, but he keeps on getting cornered

Sae had almost gotten used to Shidou flirting with him left and right, but now it was different, now Shidou was openly coming onto Sae offering a threesome with his "unbelievably hot 1000 out of 10" girlfriend

Not that Sae believed Shidou's talk about how ridiculously hot his girlfriend was

Shidou tried, god knows he did, pulling up his phone to show Sae a picture but the man kept his icy stare and walked away every time, refusing to look, or to believe in Shidou's words

That is until a club event came around, where Shidou brought you, his obviously, stupidly hot girlfriend, and when Sae laid eyes on you, Shidou could see the cool mask break

It would be easy for Shidou to just approach Sae with you but he knows this could throw the man off, so he only approaches when you separate for a moment, and when he comes back to you the outcome is obvious in his face

From there it's just a few days before the three of you are in bed together, you sandwiched between two very different men

It's a stark contrast, Sae and his methodical, cool and collected domming style, and Shidou who is chaotic, loud, and even kinda sadomasochistic

They can both go for multiple rounds, and it's good that Shidou is a switch, cause Sae isn't switching, so when on one round the two are fighting for dominance - or on some occasions cooperating - on the other Shidou is happy to let Sae just take the reins

They are both very skilled, tho, and when they work together, they are a menace, very quick to drive you crazy

You'll end up dead tired, mindless from all the pleasure, and with more than a few marks on your body

It's an experience, for sure, but a good one tho, and maybe it could be more in the future, who knows?

sponsors: @tinnaagine @loser-vxbez @kiurona @bentolover @bevernats @weirdbutpr3tty @ada7201 @vollereix @rinitosh @kum1ko-chan @romanticizemai @oneandonlykuronacuddler @borisbq @priv-rose @qichun

#ryusei shido x reader #shidou ryusei x reader #ryusei shidou x reader #itoshi sae x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader

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prince-kallisto · 26 days

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Diasomnia’s and Pomefiore’s Peacock Imagery (& the ties to Meleanor)

When looking at Diasomnia’s Halloween costume- “the ghost of a long,” I was confused for a while about the peacock feather. But the Halloween events in particular have shown generous amounts of foreshadowing, especially with Diasomnia. If Levan, Malleus’ father, does indeed have some relation to the long (his title being Ryūgan Duke Levan, which may translate to Long-Eyed Duke Levan), then this Halloween costume that Malleus chose himself certainly has its significance.

Anyway, about the peacock feather, in Twisted Wonderland this is usually associated with the Fairest Queen and Pomefiore- undoubtedly because of the Peacock Throne. In Snow White, it’s said that the Evil Queen had a Peacock Throne that represented her extreme vanity. Peacocks have long since been symbols of beauty, elegance, power, royalty- but sometimes also correlated to pride to a sinful degree.

But after poking around a bit with some research, I discovered that the long was often paired the fenghuang, a mythical bird in Chinese mythology, and these two paired together would symbolize marital harmony and everlasting love between husband and wife. The fenghuang in modern times became a feminine entity tied with the empress, and the long a masculine entity tied to the emperor. These creatures were opposites yet harmonious, like the yin and yang respectively.

Much like the long, the fenghuang was said to made up of the parts of various animals- and in more recent mythos, the fenghuang is commonly depicted with the tail of a peacock.

So…I wonder if Malleus unintentionally chose a Halloween costume that represented both of his parents, and symbols of their harmonious marriage. Dragon eggs do require genuine, parental love to hatch, which Meleanor and Levan would’ve undoubtedly gave if fate treated them more kindly. We don’t know much about Levan, but he was described as kind, a scholar, a diplomat, someone who desired peace and unity between humans and Fae. Most of these descriptions are from Lilia, and these are a stark contrast to how he describes Meleanor.

Edit: I mentioned this in a reblog, but Levan potentially being a bird Fae yet tied to a dragon-like figure, and Meleanor being a literal dragon yet tied to the fenghuang and peacock…it’s another case of them being harmonious opposites

I also feel like there is something mysterious tying Pomefiore and Diasomnia specifically. Ray has an incredibly big brain thread about Diasomnia’s and Pomefiore’s connections- please check it out 👀 But I wonder if the symbolism of the peacock and the mixture of pride and nobility is trying to say something more. The peacock imagery is usually tied to Vil, as his spell book is beautifully decorated with peacock imagery, and his recent card seems to have golden claws/or embellishments on his gloves that resemble peacock feathers. His Overblot form has SEVERAL ties to it. The ends of his cape resemble black peacock feathers, and so do his boots and crown.

Interestingly enough, his Overblot form heavily resembles the Virgin Mary. If you’re curious about this resemblance to not only the Virgin Mary but also Meleanor, check out this older theory post of mine as well ^_^ Rook also gets a peacock feather in his hat for his New Years outfit, but the peacock imagery definitely seems more tied to Vil 🤔

Additionally, in a split second shot in the opening, Crowley is seen sitting in what seems to be a Peacock Throne. The throne in Pomefiore is a direct reference to the Evil Queen’s throne, but what’s interesting about Crowley’s throne is that the gemstones are purple, not blue. Either this is lighting being unusually strong, or this is a different chair entirely. It may be his office chair, but unfortunately we haven’t gotten a good look at it yet. Even Crowley’s new furniture in the JP version doesn’t show enough details for his office throne.

I mentioned this briefly in the Virgin Mary theory, but I feel as though that Vil is the closest representation of who Meleanor was. I think this line in his dorm uniform vignette is most striking, as he is like “the Queen reborn, with two striking knights at your side.” The thing is, the Evil Queen didn’t HAVE any knights. Her closest companions were the raven and the hunter. But neither of them were exactly knights, and she thought very little of them in the film. Rook’s chat’s say that the hunter carried out all her orders- although he made many blunders, and said that the raven was more of a pet (contrast to Malleus who says Diablo was a fellow companion who fought alongside Maleficent). But Meleanor DID have “two striking knights” at her side, through the form of Levan and Lilia, her left and right generals.

Additionally, in Book 5, Vil mentions beauty being a power that’s more overwhelming that violence, and can bring people to their knees. And his voicelines show his belief that roses have thorns is part of their charm. I just can’t help but think of the scene in Book 7, where Meleanor literally brings Yuu and crew down to their knees with her magic, thinking them unworthy of even looking at her in the eye. (Credits to Otome Ayui for translation🐦‍⬛)

And Vil’s voicelines show his belief that roses having thorns is part of the charm, and that he interestingly correlates birthdays with the aurora. Meleanor’s castle is called Wild Rose Castle, and ended up covering the castle with her thorns. Additionally, both the aurora and the rose is heavily tied to Sleeping Beauty, with Princess Aurora, and her “peasant” name being Briar Rose. The gift of her beauty even said her lips were as red as the rose. And, well, there’s the whole storyline about Aurora’s sixteenth birthday overall -v-

As I mentioned earlier, I think Vil and Pomefiore represent Meleanor more as the Fae she was- her “tenacity,” as you could put it, being the spirit of Pomefiore. Diasomnia seems to connect to the idea of nobility and the guards/knights that protect the Queen. Even Pomefiore’s imagery, of the peacock, the sword impaling the heart…it feels very representative of what happened to Meleanor. Perhaps the connection between these two dorms makes up the full image of Meleanor (I’m not sure how to describe what I’m saying NSJXJD)? The guards to the Queen, the nobility and dragon Fae of Diasomnia, with the pride, tenacity, and beauty of Pomefiore.

Edit: I somehow forgot about the fenghuang and long symbolism here. Pomefiore’s symbol is the peacock, and Diasomnia’s is the dragon. It really feels as though there’s a connection between them 😭🙏

And back to what a peacock symbolizes, in Chinese culture the peacock is tied to auspicious happiness and prosperity, and serves as a symbol of beauty, nobility, power, and divinity. The feathers could even be talisman to ward of evil spirits. The Fenghuang was also believed to disappear during times of chaos and despair, and would only appear when there was world peace.

In English, the Fenghuang is translated as the “Chinese Phoenix,” although I’ve read that the similarities are superficial. The Phoenix being well known for bursting into flames and being reborn from its own ashes could potentially have significance though- but this trait is not seen in Chinese mythos. Additionally, Christianity associates the peacock with purity and the resurrection of Jesus, so peacock imagery can be seen at burials/tombs.

What fascinates me about this idea of purity and nobility is the surrounding conflicting views of who Meleanor was. The Senate practically turned her into some angelic, fairytale figure (Lian elaborates so beautifully in her post here 🫶) who is dignified and noble. The Senate idolized her to the point that Lilia was too filthy to ever stand beside her- who was a noble dragon. The Silver Owls saw her as a monster, a vain witch to be defeated. Lilia saw her as a spoiled and overly prideful princess, but also cared for her deeply as a person and not just someone to be idolized. He grew up with her, after all, and has been subjected to her antics and mischief for many years. (Translation credits to Otome Ayui 🐦‍⬛)

I think the connections here could heavily tie to other popular theories, like Meleanor being in the Dark Mirror or will be “resurrected” in some way. And you all know me- I think Crowley’s fixation on Pomefiore and the Evil Queen may also be representative of something (*´∀｀*) No matter the theories regarding Crowley, I do think it’s significant that he’s sitting in some peacock throne in the opening. With all these connections to nobility, I wonder if it means Crowley taking on the symbolic or literal position of royalty or power (*'▽'*) He is technically the highest authority so far at NRC, but I just can’t help but feel there’s more significance than meets the eye 🐦‍⬛

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst Diasomnia #twst Pomefiore #twst malleus draconia #twst vil schoenheit #twst meleanor #twst meleanor draconia #twst malleus #twst lilia vanrouge #twst dire crowley #twst theory #twst analysis #kallistopost

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invalidstories · 2 months

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Villain's Lair (Part 1)

Warnings: intrusion/trespassing, tension, grief, overall sad theme

Part 2

In the dead of night, Hero crept slowly through the shadows, their heart pounding with adrenaline as they approached the villain's lair. Their mission was clear: to gather information on the upcoming evil plans to break into the mayor's office and foil them before any harm could be done.

As Hero slipped through the corridors of the building, they expected to encounter cold, impersonal surroundings alike Villain's reputation. But to their surprise, what they found was far from what they had expected.

Upon entering, Hero was greeted by the warm glow of softly lit lamps and the comforting scent of freshly brewed coffee. They couldn't help but notice the walls decorated with photographs of the villain with their family, smiling and happy, a stark contrast to the villain's villainous persona.

Distracted by the unexpected sight, Hero found themselves drawn to the photographs, studying them intently as they wondered about the complexity of the person behind the mask. How could someone capable of such cruelty also possess the capacity for love?

Hero's attention was suddenly diverted by the sound of soft padding footsteps. Turning their gaze, they spotted a sleek black cat, its bright eyes regarding them with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion.

As Hero continued to explore, they couldn't stop seeing the differences between the villain's reputation and the reality of their surroundings. This wasn't the cold, foreboding lair they had expected – it was a place that felt strangely... comforting.

The hero was engrossed in studying the unexpected warmth of the villain's surroundings, completely unaware of the presence behind them. Lost in thought, Hero didn't hear the soft click of the door as it opened, or the quiet footsteps approaching from behind.

It wasn't until a voice broke the silence that Hero snapped back to reality, their heart skipping a beat as they spun around to face the unexpected intruder. There, standing in the doorway, was Villain – their nemesis, who wasn't supposed to be back for another hour.

Villain's eyes widened in surprise at the sight of Hero, their expression mirroring Hero's own shock. Clearly, they hadn't expected to find the hero snooping around their apartment either, especially not at this hour.

For a moment, the two of them stood frozen, caught in a tense standoff as they assessed each other's intentions, with neither of them sure how to proceed in this unexpected encounter.

Finally, Villain broke the silence, their voice tinged with a mixture of amusement and suspicion. "Well, well, well... What do we have here, Hero? I wasn't expecting visitors tonight."

Hero blinked, momentarily thrown off by the unexpected turn of events. "I... I didn't expect to find you here either," they admitted, their voice tinged with confusion.

Villain smirked, their amusement evident in the curve of their lips. "And yet, here we are," they remarked, their tone teasing.

Unable to contain their curiosity, Hero's gaze wandered around the room, taking in the cozy atmosphere and the personal touches that adorned the space. "I never knew you were a cat person," they observed, nodding towards the sleek black cat that lounged lazily on the nearby sofa.

Villain chuckled, their eyes sparkling with amusement. "Oh, she's not mine," they replied, their tone softening as they glanced fondly at the feline. "She just likes to drop by from time to time."

As Hero's gaze drifted towards the framed photographs on the wall, they couldn't help but voice their surprise. "Are those your family?" they asked, gesturing towards the images.

Villain's expression softened, a hint of melancholy clouding their features. "Yes," they replied quietly, their voice tinged with emotion. "Well, they were."

Caught off guard by the unexpected glimpse into the villain's past, Hero felt a pang of sympathy for their adversary. Beneath the mask layed a person with their own history, their own struggles, and their own regrets.

As Hero and Villain exchanged words, a sense of understanding began to blossom between them, softening the edges of their adversarial relationship.

From the corner of their eye, Hero spotted movement—a small figure darting out from behind a curtain. It was a child, no older than five or six, their eyes wide with fear as they stumbled into the room.

Villain's expression softened as they knelt down, extending a comforting hand to the child. "It's okay, little one," they murmured, their voice gentle and reassuring. "You're safe now."

The child hesitated for a moment, their gaze flickering between Hero and Villain before recognition dawned in their eyes. With a cry of relief, they dashed forward, wrapping their arms around Villain in a tight embrace.

Hero's heart swelled at the sight, struck by the unexpected tenderness in Villain's interaction with the child. "Who is this?" they asked, their voice tinged with curiosity.

Villain smiled sadly, their gaze flickering towards the child with a mixture of affection and concern. "This is one of my henchmen's children," they explained. "They were meant to be here today, away from our... activities."

Hero's surprise was evident as they took in the scene before them. Amid their rivalry, they had never imagined that Villain would have such a tender heart beneath their villainous exterior.

As the child clung to Villain, a sense of understanding washed over Hero. Despite their differences, they were all just people, shaped by their experiences, their relationships, and their choices.

With a nod of acknowledgment, Hero stepped back, allowing Villain and the child a moment of privacy. As they made their way out of the lair, their thoughts lingered on the unexpected encounter, on the complexities of good and evil, and on the possibility that, perhaps, there was more to their nemesis than met the eye.

And as they disappeared into the night, Hero couldn't help but wonder what other surprises awaited them in the tangled web of heroism and villainy. Perhaps, just perhaps, there was more to their story than they had ever imagined.

"Behind every mask lies a story untold, reminding us that appearances can deceive, but hearts cannot."

Masterlist

#reading #writers on tumblr #hero x villain #short story #invalidstories #villain x hero #hero #villain #villainsxheroes #hero and villain #writing snippet #snippet #writing prompt #old writing

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thearchvillain · 1 year

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gardenias. | nikolai

part I

nikolai lantsov x reader

summary: the setting is a grand event hosted at os alta with the intention of finding a future queen for crown prince vasily. the reader is a merchant's daughter trying to keep a low profile after her parents had dragged her there (against her will) with the hopes that she might catch the prince's attention. she, on the other hand, has different plans. plans that get entirely upheaved by none other than the younger prince nikolai who interrupts her illicit late-night meeting in the winter garden. now she's caught attention of one of the two people whose scrutiny she'd been trying so hard to avoid for the last few days of the event and she's not entirely sure she actually minds it.

preview: Irritated, she spun around and came up so close she could feel the wool of his uniform brush against her bodice as she glared up at him. "What now?" "Now I'm thinking I should escort you to your room, just to make sure you don't accidentally commit some act of treason on your way to it." "Is that what you think? That I'm planning some grand act of treason with Zaitsev?" "You do have that look about you. A bit insolent, a bit treasonous." She twisted her wrist in his hand as if to draw attention to it, jutting her chin out defiantly as she looked up at him. When she spoke she did her best to sound as smug and irritating as he did. "You like that, don't you?" He made a soft tutting sound, looking deeply amused. "I do like you. That doesn't mean I trust you." "That's--" she stuttered, torn between irritation and being caught off-guard by the matter-of-factness colouring his voice, "That's not what I meant." "You're blushing again."

word count: 5k (i know. don't @ me)

tropes/warnings: not cannon, vasily's still alive, nikolai's kinda suspicious that y/n is about to commit some kind of treason and it's reflected in the way he acts, there is tension and innuendos though sljdf, y/n does get a bit upset/frustrated at one point, nikolai does apologise but does not back down from his plan to uncover her secrets bc where would the fun be in that, there is physical touch

a/n: i'm not going to lie to you, this is absolutely going to be a multi-part. i'm enjoying writing nikolai being a teasing menace far too much not to explore it further, and i think nikolai would be far too curious and fascinated by y/n to just let it go (and a bit worried about what she's up to). note that while this is their first time meeting there's still a lot of tension that will only continue to grow, so i hope you enjoy it!

The air inside the palace winter garden was laden with the scent of jasmine. There was an oppressiveness to it that stood in stark contrast with the fresh night air she'd come in from, leaving her heady and wondering if she might suffocate from it by the time the lieutenant arrived. That would be quite the sight - a page ripped out of a book of fairytales and brought to life, a pretty young thing laid peacefully amongst the blossoming flowers, caught in the last moment before the colour had drained out of her cheeks. She would lay out her arm like so, blue petals spilling out of her still fingers and... Ghezen. This place had a way of bringing out the morbid in her. Must be something about all the death imagery she'd sifted through earlier that day in the royal library - Ravkan stories certainly had a proclivity for martyred girls and their lovely, tragic endings. It did nothing but fortify her belief that breaking into the winter garden and hiding out had been a good idea. Y/N had no interest in actually experiencing martyrdom or tragic endings, thank you very much.

That is if one ignored the fact she was tempting fate by agreeing to an illicit meeting with a man her parents had most definitely not had in mind when they'd dragged her all the way to Ravka with them. A man who was distinctly late to said meeting. Y/N twisted the leaf she'd plucked from one of the bushes, her fingers sticky from where she'd crushed it and unsteady with the nervous sort of energy that accompanied late nights and ill-advised impulses. She'd already stood up and sat back down several times when the sound of a door opening interrupted her mid-movement and she slipped behind one of the stone columns that obscured her from view. The silence stretched for a long moment before the door clicked closed once more. The stone roses of the column were biting into the skin between Y/N's shoulderblades where she pressed herself against it as if she might blend into it by the sheer force of will. Another stretch of silence before the sound of a key turning in the lock made her start, her chest tightening. Silence. Whoever was there must've just noticed the door was left unlocked and decided to close it. Good. Y/N fingered the silver hairpin she'd used to break into the garden before pushing herself away from the column and slipping towards the glass door that led onto the palace grounds. She didn't want to risk anyone seeing her going back through the door that had just been locked.

"What's the rush?" A voice came from somewhere behind her. "You're missing all the flowers. Or is the collection not exotic enough for the refined tastes of a merchling princess?"

Y/N halted mid-step, her shoulders drawn taut as she went very, very still. This was not the lieutenant's voice - it was just a bit too silvery, too playful, too... refined in its accent. Not a native speaker, but a very well-educated one.

"I... the smell - it's overpowering."

A soft chuckle. "Perhaps the lady would find it less offensive if she came to visit the gardens during the day." There was a slight pause. She swore she could almost hear him smirk in the way his voice trailed off. "As most people do."

She still had her back turned to him, her head tipped slightly back to look up towards the glass ceiling as if she expected to find a solution or at least strength to deal with this up there. "You are here too, are you not?"

"Touche." He moved then, his steps loud against the marble floor but slow and languid, as if he were a predator stalking a fear-frozen doe in some rather exotic forest. He was much closer when he spoke this time. "But I like the smell. It's jasmine. Night-blooming jasmine to be specific. My mother's favourite."

Y/N did not see what was the relevance of his confession but she assumed he might be slightly more compliant with the whole keeping quiet about this business if she played along. "Does she garden?"

This made him laugh. It was a nice sort of laugh - the kind that belonged to someone intimately familiar with the sound, whose mouth had been made for laughing and who found her question infinitely amusing. "Saints, no. That would be quite the sight though - my mother with dirt-stained hands, taking care of a living thing."

Y/N did not respond. This sounded like a confession too, one she was not privy to. She felt like she was missing a puzzle piece. He waited in silence for a moment, and when she didn't answer she heard the rustle of fabric as he must have leaned against the column behind her. "Are you not going to turn around?"

"I was escaping, remember? It would be silly to show my face now when I still have a chance of getting away."

He made a noncommittal sound. "I didn't realise you were fleeing. Women don't tend to run away from me very often. How... thrilling."

Y/N almost snorted at this display of ego. She resigned herself to a sort of small, vague sound that could be left up to interpretation. "Are you going to stop me?"

"Would you like me to?" His voice had gone low and goading, but he never moved from his spot. It had occurred to her that it might be advisable to be more nervous about this strange man standing behind her, but this felt more like a game than a threat and Y/N couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corners of her lips.

"A thrilling proposition, but one I will have to refuse. Allegedly I'm a sensible creature, and none of this sounds very sensible."

"Neither does meeting Lieutenant Zaitsev in a winter garden at three in the morning, but here we are. Minus Zaitsev, unfortunately." He said unfortunately in a way people did when they found nothing unfortunate about a situation at all.

Y/N spun around, suddenly very aware of the sound of rushing blood and her own quickened heartbeat that rang in her ears. Prince Nikolai looked as pleased by this reaction as she imagined a cat would as it dug its claws into some poor, unsuspecting thing or got a big plate of full-fat cream. At least now the gardening thing made complete sense.

He was in his full regalia, as polished as he'd been when she'd seen him earlier this evening, all shiny medals and sharp lines and the sort of lazy indifference that came with inherited importance and disarming good looks. She'd half expected the illusion of grandeur to disappear once she saw him up close, but the prince remained as impeccable as he'd been from afar, almost to an irritating degree. Y/N lowered her eyes.

"My apologies, your Highness. I didn't recognise your voice."

"How could you? We've never had the pleasure of speaking to each other." Y/N thought she might have been imagining the subtle note of accusation in his voice. He tipped his head to the side, eyes fixed on Y/N with the sort of intense curiosity that she could feel burning against her skin. "Don't apologise. I've had enough of performative politeness to last me a year."

Y/N raised an eyebrow at that, her eyes flitting up to his face for a brief moment of offence. "Are you implying my apology is performative?"

Nikolai caught her eyes and smiled at that. She had been right - he had the sort of mouth that lent itself to charming, easy smiles and was hard to look away from. "You don't seem the type to be sorry about any of this. Except maybe getting caught."

Y/N didn't deign answer that, there was no point in pretending when he hardly appeared open to changing his mind if the knowing smirk on his lips was anything to go by. She took a slight step backwards when he pushed himself away from the column and moved towards her. He side-stepped her, though there was still an undue amount of proximity between them as he passed by her side, eyes trailing along her features before he focused on something behind her.

"You know who I am, don't you?" she asked. He'd called her a merchling princess, he'd known exactly why she was here and who she'd intended to meet. Something was unsettling about the casual way in which he considered her question as if he were toying with her the same way he was toying with the leaves of some unnamed bush he'd stopped to observe.

He was quiet for a while, the only sound a low chuckle that rumbled in his chest as he plucked a pretty, pink flower from its stem. "It's in my job description," he said simply as if that might explain the overabundance of information on her.

"Is it? I've heard princes have people for that. To whisper over your shoulder whenever they see someone coming your way."

A laugh this time. "You're not wrong, but I find those quite overbearing and tough to get rid of when one wishes to slip away unnoticed. I'm sure you can relate."

She hummed in response, eyes narrowed. "Where's the lieutenant?"

"Am I boring you that much? You wound me, Miss Braam."

Y/N barely held back a frustrated sound that she felt building in her chest. He was infuriating on purpose, she was sure. She'd seen him interact with people tonight and he went about it with such elegance and ease that there was no doubt Nikolai Lantsov had a way with both words and people.

"I would do no such thing. You're a delight," she said dryly. And it wasn't a lie - Nikolai did seem delightful in a precarious sort of way, but Y/N felt far too on edge to appreciate it. "He promised..."

Nikolai interrupted her, one gloved hand raised as if he were placating a startled wild animal. "I sent him away," he said, turning to face her, "I must say, if I were in his place and meeting you in such a lovely place at a such late hour I would've personally put up much more of a fight. Alas, he obeyed - so you're stuck with me instead."

Y/N felt the frustration rising, choking out the words in her throat even as she pushed it down to try and appear forlorn rather than annoyed. "Oh," was all she said, turning her face away so that the shadowy darkness offered some cover.

She saw him shift in the periphery of her vision and then there were fingers on the edges of her jaw, the material soft and runny against her skin. Not cotton, silk. Of course it would be silk. She didn't fight him as he guided her chin so that she was looking at him once again, determined to appear deeply hurt by Zaitsev's abandonment rather than irritated by the fact she would now have to come up with another plan to get the materials from him. Nikolai's eyes trailed along her face as if he were drinking her in, so gentle and sympathetic she almost believed it. Almost.

"As lovely as you look in all your teary-eyed, heartbroken glory," Nikolai said, sounding amused, "I sincerely doubt you are anything of the sort. It's that Ketterdam blood in your veins. Pragmatism above all else, no?"

She tried to free her chin from his fingers, but as she did the grip suddenly became less gentle, holding her firmly in place. He smiled when he saw the flash of irritation cross her features.

"That's more like it." He sounded almost satisfied to see the facade crack, amused by her reaction. What in Ghezen's name was his problem?

She jerked her chin against his grip in a display of defiance before staring him down. "And is pragmatism an unfamiliar concept here in Ravka? Quit playing, your Highness. We could've been done with this much quicker if you'd just asked your questions at the start."

He only hummed in response, still looking at her as if he were observing a particularly riveting piece of art, one that might reveal some secret symbolism hiding beneath the surface. "Maybe I didn't want it to be quick?"

"I also sincerely doubt that."

He chuckled and Y/N felt his warm breath brush against her flushed cheeks. His grip had loosened, but she still felt the warmth of his fingers seeping into her skin. "Why? You're a curious thing. Brought here to be paraded about for the Court in hopes of securing a fruitful marriage, no? But then you very adamantly avoid both my brother and me. It's a bit strange... I suppose I wanted to take my time with you."

"Maybe that was the ploy all along, the whole avoidance thing. It got you curious, didn't it?" She leaned into his touch very intentionally then, overly aware of the way he shifted them to accommodate her, her eyebrow raised in an attempt at mirroring his playfulness.

"I admire your talent for improvisation, Miss Braam. Really, it's quite charming..."

"But...?" She'd sensed he was going in that direction and interrupted him before he could say it. Nikolai chuckled.

"But, I'm not buying it. It would've been far too risky of a plan. And unless you are more arrogant than I am - which I doubt - I don't think you expected or wanted anyone to come looking. Aside from Zaitsev, of course."

Y/N sneered at him then, finally irritated enough that she reached up to grab his wrist and pull his hand away from her jaw. The wool of his uniform was rough beneath her fingers, golden buttons digging into her palm where she gripped it. She hated how aware of him she was as she let go. Nikolai let her, grinning delightedly at this sudden display of insolence.

"Not particularly gentle. I like that."

"Stop pretending to flirt with me, your Highness." Because that's what it was - make-believe. She thought she could see something more sinister lurking beneath it. If he didn't believe her she was meeting Zaitsev for a moonlight tryst between two lovers - which in all fairness was an entirely correct assumption - then he must've thought she had more insidious intentions. So why wasn't he dragging her back to the party, demanding answers? Perhaps making a spectacle of it was his way of intimidation, it certainly fit the aura of aloof confidence he was displaying.

"Who says I'm pretending?"

She shot him a dry look in lieu of an answer. "If you're not going to ask what my real reason was for meeting Zaistev then I'm going to ask how in Ghezen's name did you know we were meeting in the first place?"

He watched her for a moment, head bent to look down at her and a smirk playing on his lips, then he turned and went around her to stroll between the lush flowers. She watched the moonlight glint off the golden details of his uniform, his hands clasped behind his back, something languorous and insolent about the way he moved. "Now, that would be telling," he said, "And I like to keep an air of mystery about me. It adds to the charm I think."

"Fine. Why care to find out about it at all?"

He halted for a second as if considering his answer. "I told you. You never bothered to introduce yourself, and the whole charade has been going on for three nights and days now. I was already suspicious on the second day as to what exactly you were doing here."

Realising they weren't going anywhere any time soon Y/N made her way over to the fountain, the soft rush of water behind her back soothing her nerves as she sat down. "So your explanation is that your ego made you do it?"

"My ego makes me do a lot of things, Miss Braam. A character fault, I know, but no one's perfect." He didn't sound sorry about it at all.

"I have a perfectly sensible explanation for that, if you'd like to hear it?"

He was picking apart another flower, like a gardener's worst nightmare when he looked back towards her and smirked. "Another one? Are we dropping the playing hard-to-get ploy?"

Y/N ignored the jab, leaning back on her hands and tilting her head as she watched him lean in to smell some unremarkable bush. "My parents are tentatively hopeful, but I know better..."

"Of course you do."

"Would you stop that, you menace."

Nikolai started laughing and Y/N realised that all the other times he'd laughed or chuckled at her words it had been only a good mimicry of amusement. This was the real thing. She snorted and looked up towards the glass ceiling in faux exasperation, hiding her smile.

"Anyway. It's the crown prince's hand in marriage that's on the table, right? You said it yourself - us merchling princesses are a pragmatic bunch. As nice as it sounds, I'm no royalty, so why waste my breath? Your kingdom needs political alliances, not money. Nothing's going to come of it." She shrugged. "And if I'm debasing myself like I'm a dairy cow on a cattle fair, I'd prefer not to do it in vain. I too have an ego, you know."

When she dropped her head back down she realised Nikolai was watching her from where he stood, head tipped to the side, his fingers absentmindedly plucking the petals off a rose he was holding. He seemed to be considering saying something but decided against it.

"From what I've been told, your father is a very rich man," he said eventually, "And I find that sort of thing makes a woman rather attractive. Political alliances can be bought, you know."

"Is that why you keep not-pretending to flirt? Does my father's money make me so irresistible?"

"Well that, and the insolence." He smirked. "But mostly insolence. Us Ravkans, we're just not as pragmatic."

Y/N rolled her eyes, though without malice. "I can tell." She sighed, watching her fingers where they dipped into the cold water. "And besides, I'm not too keen on being shipped off to a foreign kingdom. Much to my mother's dismay."

"Not even for a crown?"

Her gaze shifted back to Nikolai who was now strolling over to her, appearing genuinely curious this time. He looked like something out of a children's book, like he might be the one to discover the fair, dead girl she'd imagined in a field of flowers and mourn over her body, impressive even in tragedy. She supposed she understood why all the girls when they were done with Vasily swarmed to try and get Nikolai's attention instead.

"I have no interest in crowns. They seem heavy."

He stopped a few paces away, watching her for a moment before a small, knowing smile bloomed across his lips. "What is it that interests you then?"

Y/N was glad he'd asked if only so she could grin insolently at him and repeat what he'd said to her before, "Now, that would be telling, your Highness. And I like to keep an air of mystery about myself too."

He was standing over her now, looking down at where she was sprawled back on the cold stone of the fountain, a playful glint in his eyes. "Fair. I suppose I should've seen that one coming from a mile away."

"You really should have." She agreed with amusement, head tipped back to look up at him. For a moment they stared at each other, him standing so close she could feel the fabric of his pants brush against her knee, and her leaning back on her hands, aware that she could but didn't want to shift away. She'd almost forgotten she was supposed to be rather annoyed about her failed meeting and when the thought appeared uninvited at the forefront of her mind she couldn't help breaking eye contact and looking at the dark corners of the winter garden behind Nikolai.

"Why were you meeting him?" he asked then, his voice more serious than it had ever been since they started talking. Y/N didn't look at him right away, worrying at her lip as she thought about what she would say. Playful avoidance didn't seem like a good choice here, but neither did the truth, at least not the whole truth.

She sighed. "He has something I want."

When she pulled herself up to stand Nikolai shifted slightly to the side so that he was right by her side, not really blocking her path but close enough to stop her if he decided to. He was close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off his body.

Y/N looked up at him, a determined look in her eyes. "I'm not telling."

Nikolai raised an eyebrow. "I assume you can see how that might seem rather worrisome to me."

Y/N dipped her chin in a small nod of acknowledgement.

"And I also assume you know I won't just let it go."

"You? Unrelenting? I never would've guessed."

He smiled at that, though it was a bit strained. "I could drag you back to your parents now. Demand an explanation."

Y/N appeared to consider his words for a moment. "Yes. I suppose you could." She dropped her eyes down to his hands where he had them shoved into the pockets of his uniform. Her skin remembered the grip he'd had on her chin earlier that evening, prickling at the thought of those silk gloves wrapped around her arm. Was this fear she felt in the pit of her stomach?

Nikolai must have noticed because he followed her gaze down and let out a soft chuckle when he saw the prickled skin on her bare arms and the uncertain look on her face. "I didn't mean it literally. Though I could, if that's your preference?"

Y/N felt the blood rush to her face, hot and burning, certain the blush was already spreading from her chest up to her neck. She closed her eyes and let out a frustrated breath. Collect yourself, you frivolous fool. "You just can't help yourself, can you?" she said, voice biting.

Nikolai chuckled. She couldn't see him with her eyes shut, but she could imagine he was looking at her, thoroughly amused. "I can, I just don't want to. I was wondering how much it would take to make you blush."

She opened her eyes to glare at him. "Satisfied?"

"Very much so."

"Great, now that we've pleased you, let's get this over with. -- I am warning you though, my mother is prone to fainting when startled."

She tried to side-step him to head for the door, assuming he'd follow her, but Nikolai deftly held out his hand to catch her wrist and pull her back to where she had been standing. There was no harshness to it, he was careful not to grip too hard or pull too strongly, but Y/N still gasped when she felt stopped in her path.

Irritated, she spun around and came up so close she could feel the wool of his uniform brush against her bodice as she glared up at him. "What now?"

"Now I'm thinking I should escort you to your room, just to make sure you don't accidentally commit some act of treason on your way to it."

"Is that what you think? That I'm planning some grand act of treason with Zaitsev?"

"You do have that look about you. A bit insolent, a bit treasonous."

She twisted her wrist in his hand as if to draw attention to it, jutting her chin out defiantly as she looked up at him. When she spoke she did her best to sound as smug and irritating as he did. "You like that, don't you?"

He made a soft tutting sound, looking deeply amused. "I do like you. That doesn't mean I trust you."

"That's--" she stuttered, torn between irritation and being caught off-guard by the matter-of-factness colouring his voice, "That's not what I meant."

"You're blushing again."

She reached up to smack him on his arm with her free hand. For a moment he looked genuinely caught off guard and Y/N couldn't help the smug self-satisfaction that swelled in her chest at the startled look he gave her. She just hit a prince. A real, very gilded, very irritating prince.

"You are the most infuriating man I have ever had the displeasure of meeting." Her chest rose and fell on quickened breath and she could hear her pulse thrumming against her ribcage like some caged bird startled by the way her voice rose in irritation.

Then Nikolai started laughing and it was Y/N's turn to look alarmed by the display. She stared at him as he tried to collect himself several times, running his hand through his hair and leaving it charmingly tousled as he tipped his head back and took a deep breath to calm himself.

"Like I said. You do have a tendency for treason - like hitting a prince."

"I barely touched you, and you had it coming," she said, then shook her head and looked up above his head, "Sorry. I lost my temper."

"No, no - it's fine. I did have it coming."

She felt his thumb brush against the inner side of her wrist, suddenly aware that he'd never let go of it. His fingers stilled for a moment before he spoke, "Breathe. Your heart's beating like you just outran a bear. I'm not going to tell anyone about tonight."

She did not think anything good would come of admitting the current state of her pulse had very little to do with the fear of her parents and everything to do with the way every sense in her body was heightened by his proximity. She hardly wanted to admit that silly reaction of her body to herself, much less him. She let out a shaky breath. "Okay."

"Okay?" He was watching her when she opened her eyes again. "Do you want to go back to your parents or your room?"

She stared at him for a moment, uncertain. Had she really appeared distressed enough for him to so suddenly switch gears? She searched his face for anything suspicious as if she half-expected this sudden calmness in his voice to be a trap.

"I'm suspicious. Not cruel," he said when she failed to answer. She felt him release her wrist as if finally satisfied enough with her pulse going down to let go. "I crossed the line and upset you. It wasn't my intention."

"Wasn't it?" There was an accusation in her voice, one she didn't realise was there until it slipped out without her permission. When had they switched roles of the accuser and the accused?

Nikolai looked away, looking almost repentant. "I don't know. I got carried away - I guess I didn't expect you to be... like that."

She wasn't sure what like that meant and was half-afraid of asking. Maybe he'd say something ridiculous and then she'd be blushing again. No, that was a ridiculous thought. This entire exchange was ridiculous. She almost expected to wake up tomorrow and fully believe it was a fever dream.

"So what I just... leave now? No consequences?" she said, sounding deeply doubtful.

"Yes and no. I said I wouldn't tell." He finally looked back at her, his gaze scouring her face. "I didn't say I wouldn't keep trying to find out what you're hiding."

"It's nothing bad if that's what you're worried about."

"You've tried to lie to me several times tonight. Do you expect me to just believe you?"

He did have a point there. Y/N pursed her lips. "What then?"

Nikolai seemed to consider her then. Under scrutiny, Y/N suddenly became very aware of their proximity, which in all fairness had been entirely her fault. She stepped away uneasily, worrying at her lip. Ghezen, he really was deeply infuriating, for more than one reason.

"You'll see tomorrow."

Y/N's head shot up. "Tomorrow?"

"Save me a dance."

She was certain she looked like there were rusted cogs inside her head grinding against each other as she tried to process his words. There was clearly a double meaning in there, there always seemed to be with him, but it wasn't immediately obvious to her.

Nikolai smirked as he watched her work it out. "Don't overheat that pretty little head of yours. I like the way it works."

She made a face at him. "Why would you... oh."

"Oh," he repeated, smug.

Save me a dance. It was a threat, not a request. He would approach her tomorrow in the middle of the after-dinner ball, in front of everyone. She would know it was for show, but to everyone else, it would appear as if he'd singled her out and shown her his favour. Out of the blue at that.

She shot him a dirty look. "That's low."

"I don't consider myself a particularly immoral person, but I will do what I have to."

She would find herself dragged out of her carefully-crafted obscurity and thrust under scrutiny. Her parents would be delighted, no doubt, a welcome reprieve from the frustration her disobedience was causing them currently. She couldn't think of a worse thing.

"Unless, of course, you decide to tell me about it beforehand." At some point, he'd strolled away from her and plucked another one of those poor flowers. "I'll still ask, of course, but more subtly."

She stared at him, disbelieving. Did he just threaten her and then proceed to imply he'd still ask her to dance with him?

She let out a frustrated sigh. "Very well, we can play that game. I will warn you though, I tend to bite when cornered."

"I was hoping you would."

"You... you are just the worst," she said, irritation colouring her voice higher than normal, before turning around to head for the door. In the smallest, most meagre act of defiance, she decided not to tell him goodnight and instead storm out without a word.

He was not having it. "Y/N?"

She produced some indeterminate sound of frustration. "What now, your Highness?"

"Call me Nikolai."

"I will not."

A chuckle. Then the sound of his steps as he approached her from the back. "I do wish we'd met on some less... dramatic terms. Honestly."

She couldn't ignore him when he went around her to stand in her field of vision, but she did shoot him a dirty look. There was a flower in his hands now, so delicate and white that it almost blended into the whiteness of his gloves, only the leaves visible in the darkness. He hadn't yet dismembered this one.

"Since you don't like the smell of jasmine," he said, as if that explained everything, and held it out to her.

Y/N considered not taking it, but curiosity got the better of her and she reached out her hand tentatively to pluck the flower from his fingers. "What is it?"

"Gardenia. A personal favourite, at least scent-wise." He stared at the flower in her hand for a moment, then smiled. "Goodnight, Miss Braam."

She watched him stroll back towards the door that led into the palace, unhurried, languid and infuriatingly prepossessing. For a moment she stood there, reeling, before she headed for the other door, the one that led out into the gardens, desperate for a breath of fresh air. It was only once she was outside that she realised he hadn't lied about the flower, its fragrance a sweet, charming thing. Later that night, when she returned to her room she would put it in a small crystal glass and place it next to her bed so that when she fell asleep her mind was still full of that fragrance and the memory of Nikolai's thumb pressed against her pulse point.

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