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angelrari · 3 months

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gossip girl · pt. xiii

based on the tv series gossip girl

max verstappen / charles leclerc x socialité!reader

fc: elsa hosk (y/n) · taylor hill (léa) · barbara palvin (jolie)

a/n: hi!! thank you so much for commenting and supporting this story! hope you like this part because things are about to get twisted!!!!🤍

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gossip girl here, your one and only source into the scandalous lives of monaco's elite.

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this morning, when the gossip girl notification made your phone beep, your heart skipped a beat. that was it, gossip girl had won again. and, even though, you made have hinted it a few times on your instagram posts, it still was invasion of yours and max's privacy.

"what's wrong?". max asked the moment he saw the look on your face. without saying a word, you turned your phone around to show them. "shit. how is it possible? only people we knew were around".

"i don't know". you replied. "but the secret is out now".

"are you okay?".

"knowing somebody keeps following me around since i was a teenager? not really". you stated. "i don't mind everyone knowing about us, but i had other things in my mind like, i don't know, waiting until this f1 season is over so one day we could talk it about it calmly? fuck, max, don't you feel like you don't even have control on your life? it was our step to take and it's so frustrating to know we can't even do anything to stop this".

max left his phone on the desk and sat with you on the sofa. carefully, he put his finger on bellow your chin to make your eyes look into his. god, he looked so good. his hair was still messy from the make-out session you had shared earlier and he was wearing a linen white shirt that somehow made him seem ethereal.

"i am sorry-". you said and he shook his head.

"it's not your fault or mine". he interrupted you.

"i know". you replied. "but it's race day and you have other things to focus on other than this".

"look, i like that you're telling me this instead of keeping it to yourself and i hate this as much as you do". he said. "i know you're frustrated, but there's nothing we can do about it, right?".

"yeah".

"do you want to know the good news?". he asked and you nodded. "i'll finally get to kiss you when i win the race".

"you're stupid".

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maxverstappen1 ❤️

username EVERYBODY PAUSE

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username SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP

username thank you for getting max out of that red bull shirt i was starting to think he doesn't own regular shirts

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everyone in the red bull garage cheered loudly as max crossed the finish line. it had been an incredible year for them, winning almost every single race this season. throughout the whole race you could not help but focus on the red team you used to support before. charles had tried everything to get ferrari to secure the second place in the constructors' championship, but it seemed like he was the only person in the team who was working for it.

"charles must be feeling like shit". jolie said as she removed the headphones.

"yeah". you agreed. "i feel sorry for him".

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charles' team members congratulated him, shaking his hand and giving him pats on his back. he half-smiled back at them, trying to hide the sadness he felt for not achieving the goal he had set his mind to. he had spotted you in the crowd, next to the red bull team members, and he decided to approach you.

you were standing there, looking as pretty as ever, under the moonlight of abu dhabi. he knew you were there waiting for max, as you were many times before for him. your eyes lit up when you saw his face and smiled back at him. shit, he didn't even notice he had been smiling as he stared at you. you opened your arms and he hugged you tightly.

"don't be too hard on yourself, okay?". you said and he nodded. "you did everything you could".

"thank you, y/n". he replied, wishing he could stay in your arms forever.

"i am proud of you. always".

"i know i have said it a million times before, but i couldn't have gotten this far without you". he said. "i love you".

those three words, that once you were used to hearing, now seemed to carry more weight than they did before. all these years were not able to erase the feelings you had felt when you were in love with him and your heart felt so full knowing that he felt the same. you loved him. he had been the person who had been by your side the toughest days of your life, the one who had always supported you on every step you took and who always put your happiness before his.

"i love you too".

when he pulled away, his green eyes starred into yours, trying to hide the effect those words had on him. you gave him an honest smile and he knew it was time for him to walk away. he could not take it, he could not see you celebrate with someone else. he wanted that for himself. he wanted to kiss you, he wanted to hold your hand as he walked back to his car, he wanted to be the one to drive you back to the hotel, to hold you in his arms as the elevator reached your floor and, god, the things he would do when nobody was watching.

you turned around as you heard max's voice. he had made sure to greet his team members before approaching you. you looked teary-eyed, proudly smiling as you starred at him. he had figured out charles had something to do with it as he had seen you talking to him seconds before.

"congratulations max". you said.

he caressed your cheek before leaning in and kissing you softly. your hands grabbed his face, feeling his stubble on your fingers, and pulled him closer. you could tell max was feeling emotional too, his hands that were on your hips grabbed tightly the fabric of your summer dress and his breath was heavy. he pulled away as everyone around cheered.

"i'll see you later, okay?". he said and you nodded.

and that was when you realized. max had never said i love you to you. was it too soon? did he feel this way? did you? why was it so easy to say them to charles, but so hard to say to max?

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notroosterbradshaw · 10 months

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slow dancing in a burning room - four

word count: 4.4k

warnings: nsfw 18+, smut, language, angst, fluff.

part of: The Boyfriend Experience universe

a/n: thanks to those who read, reblogged and commented on previous chapters. you’re doing god’s work. I know this series is a bit different to what you’re used to from me, so I hope you keep reading. I truly appreciate all the effort you make to show your support x

three.

You reckoned you’d read the same passage of writing a dozen times since you’d received word Bradley had arrived back in San Diego. He had his phone back on him and while he’d told you a dozen times over that all the checks were routine and above board, the sinking feeling that he’d ditched his plane was all that was running through your head and the single question:

Why?

You’d almost lost him, you didn’t know how and you didn’t know why, but you almost lost him. You couldn’t connect the dots, he was notorious for his safe predictability, but something just didn’t add up. Mission a success, target achieved (whatever it was, you didn’t give half a shit about the semantics and told Natasha as such when you spoke to her) but nothing was cut and dry and you couldn’t stop thinking about how it might have gone wrong.

Adding insult to injury, you weren’t allowed to see him until he’d had complete further testing tomorrow (at the earliest) and was declared fit enough to be discharged. Your phone rang a while later and you were so relieved to see Natasha’s local number, she was back stateside also. “Nat, hey,” you answered softly.

“Hi,” she said, sounding as tired as your felt. The last thing she needed to be doing was calling you at such a late hour. “I probably woke you, huh?”

You scoffed a laugh. “Found out the love of my life was in a mid-air incident a few days back, and I still can’t see him even though he’s only a few miles away. Trust me when I say that I am not sleeping.”

“Yeah,” Natasha couldn’t say she was surprised. “I’ll bet.”

“Do you have any updates?”

“No, they just want to keep an eye on the concussion after this evening’s scan. He’s okay, talking, but sore. He’s got a few bumps and bruises, some bleeding they need to keep an eye on.”

You knew all of this. Bradley had been trying to keep you as up-to-date as he’d allow but you knew he was going out of his way to keep things light. He mentioned about 8pm he’d been given some pretty hefty meds to knock him out and help with some swelling. “Think I can come in tomorrow?”

“Of course. But I think he’s hoping to be out by tomorrow. He’s pushing pretty hard for a release,” Natasha told you and he’d told you the same.

“Thanks, Nat.”

“Of course,” she said like it was no big thing.

“And how are you?” you asked softly.

“I’m okay,” she admitted. “Tired. Glad to be home.”

“I’ll bet. Can I do anything for you?”

“Naw,” she admitted. “I’ll see you tomorrow though, okay?”

“Okay. Thanks Nat.”

“Of course,” she said before mumbling a quiet goodnight and hanging up.

The clock told you it was nearly 2:30am and while you yawned on instinct, you knew you wouldn’t be sleeping until you were allowed to see your man who was all alone in that cold, sterile hospital bed across town.

Hearing the phone ding, you sighed, picking it up again but a gentle smile formed seeing Bradley’s name and a simple, “Love you, sweet girl x”

The next morning, you were waiting at the nurse’s station as soon as visiting hours opened. Addressed formally by the nurse who chuckled at your eagerness, you stated Bradley’s room number and she knew who you were immediately. “512,” she repeated as you gently patted the desk and thanked them kindly, wandering doing the hallway towards Bradley’s room.

You hated hospitals. The nose-stinging smell, the sounds of machines beeping and shivering from the cold.

His door was open a crack and you could hear Sportscenter. God, there was going to be a lot of this over the next few weeks, you realised. You gently knocked on the door and carefully poked your head in. Bradley sat up, a grin pulling to his face excitedly and immediately cursed, flinching back against the pillows, grabbing his ribs. “Oh Bradley,” you came in and stood beside him. “Guess I don’t need to ask how the ribs are, huh?” you brushed back his wild curls back and tenderly kissed his forehead.

“Please kiss me properly,” he begged as you lovingly cupped his chin, unfamiliar with its stubble and did as requested, sweet and placid, he was in a hospital bed after all. “Hi, baby. I missed you so much,” he whispered, his voice raspier in its underuse as you pressed single kisses into his lips again.

“I missed you too. I’m so glad to see you,” you admitted. Albeit… here. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay,” he admitted. “Pretty banged up. Ribs are fucking killing me.”

“Can see that,” you continued to smooth back his hair, thumb brushing carefully against his forehead.

“No breaks, no fractures,” he reported. “Concussion is what they’re most concerned about. Head is pretty sore,” he supposed, shifting carefully on the hospital bed. “Come up here with me.”

“I’ll stay here,” you reassured him, grabbing the seat near the door and dragging it over.

“Love, please?” he asked, his tone meek. Sad, maybe a little scared and you stopped because there was a tone in his sweet rasp you’d never heard from him before and nodded, going back to the bed and scampering up at daintily as you could, not wanting to cause any disturbance to his aches.

You inspected Bradley closely and he winced under your gaze. If not for a few scratches and what you imagined was a lot of concealed contusions, he seemed perfectly fine. “Thank God. Handsome as always,” you joked, knowing he needed the respite, holding his face and kissing him again. “I didn’t think I was going to see you again,” you admitted quietly.

“I’m sorry, love. I’m here. I’m safe with you,” he murmured. “It wasn’t supposed to turn out this way…”

“What happened, Bradley? You’re so safe out there,” your inquisitiveness getting the best of you as he gazed back, sheepishly and was interrupted by a knock.

“Doc,” Bradley said, relieved by the intrusion. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, Lieutenant,” his doctor wandered in and addressed you personally, obviously knowing exactly who you were whether Bradley had worded him up previously or not, you weren’t sure. “How’s your grandpa?” he asked you, picking up Bradley’s chart and contemplating his report.

“Uhh, he’s good,” you said, annoyed momentarily at how notorious the Metcalfe name was around this town. It wasn’t the time to be asking about Grandpa. You gave Bradley some space and stood up. He reached for your hand which you took in yours. He gave you a small smile. “Thanks.”

“Good to hear,” he peered up over the paperwork, eyes friendly as he approached Bradley and pulled out his torch, Bradley submissively looked up to have his eyes reviewed. “Pupils, corneas receptive. The good news is the concussion isn’t as bad as first indicated, Lieutenant. CT and MRI scans are positive. But obviously, post-ejection,” he continued as Bradley could feel your eyes shift to him, hot under your stare that cast daggers at him as you started adding up all he’d been through. He flushed and avoided your scrutiny, pretending to listen intently to the doctor. “We are going to be concerned about your spine. Your x-rays show no fractures, which is a great result.”

“Any chance I can bug out today?” Bradley’s asked, his light joke ill-timed as you loosened your grip on his calloused palm and he looked back at you warily, as you crossed your arms tightly across your chest.

The doctor snickered. “We assume so. A few more tests and you should be able to sleep in your own bed tonight.”

“Feel like I might be in the doghouse,” Bradley muttered, forcing a smile, placing his hands in his lap, and wringing his fingers together like a scolded child.

“I’m sure you’re just happy to have him home?” the doctor looked at you, trying to diffuse the situation that was brewing.

“Of course,” you forced. “Just glad he’s home… after punching out.”

“That was the first time you’d heard that, I presume?”

“Something like that.”

“Baby, I’ll explain all I can when we’re home, okay?” Bradley reached for your hand again and stepping forward, you begrudgingly took it.

“Okay.”

“Would you be upset if we just relax in the bedroom?” Bradley asked. After trudging up the stairs to the apartment, he was out of breath and headed straight for the living room.

“Of course not. I realise we’re not going to be popping bottles tonight,” you sighed as he laughed quietly. “Let me get you some water and I’ll meet you in bed, okay?”

He shook his head. “No, you come with me,” he gave a coy grin, leading you to the bedroom and pressing you back against the door. He grasped your jaw, took your face in and smiled weakly before kissing you deeply. “I missed the way you taste,” he admitted, almost drunk on you. “I didn’t think I was going to be able to do this again.”

You felt your mind blank because at no time was this ever a risk for you and you didn’t know how close he was to not coming home but the more he alluded to it, it almost seemed certain that not returning was a sad affirmative. You were terrified to ask for the full story and while you knew he wasn’t at liberty to say anything, you remained passive but blood was filling your mouth as your bit your tongue. You gently pulled back to look at him and he softened a little.

“What, love?” he whispered, searching your face. When he didn’t get a response, he changed his tack and lowered his lips to your jaw, his palms gripping your hips and closing in the gap to keep you trapped. He sighed against your skin. “You smell so good, feel so soft, my sweet girl,” he pressed his muscular thigh between yours and released your hips to grasp your wrists and drag them above your head.

He was hard and craving, desperate for you and you found it hard to resist him. “Bradley, I don’t want to hurt you,” you muttered faintly, and his tongue paused tracing at your clavicle. “Come on, stop,” your palms eased against his waist, giving you some breathing room.

“You could never hurt me,” he swore. “I know you couldn’t.”

“You’re aching, sweetheart,” you urged him softly.

“When I tell you that there is nothing that could stop this, I’m being completely honest. I need to feel at home. Let me bury myself in you, please?” he huffed against your skin, his stubble unfamiliar and rubbing against you. “Kiss me, love. Fall into this with me,” he begged, feeling the hesitation dripping from you.

“You doctor’s said bedrest, Bradley,” you said warily.

“Then take me to bed,” he turned it against you and in a simple feat of strength, he lifted you into his arms. You didn’t miss the slight grimace and it only made you feel worse.

“Bradley…”

“I got this,” he reassured you and opened the bedroom door. He needed to prove to you that it was a couple of scratches and a few bruises. No big deal. The room was exactly how he remembered it, and he was enveloped by the scent of your perfume, rooting him firmly home. He noted you’d left some clean sweats at the end of his side on your bed and his side drawn. Painkillers, a wheat bag. A glass of water waiting and a book he didn’t recognise but could faintly make out The Mamba Mentality. “You put all this together?” he asked fondly. He would never admit it, but it was such a homely welcome. His bones ached, and his head was splitting but his heart lurched, it all looked so inviting. He would be so incredibly touched you’d even consider him this way.

“Well, yeah…” you said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You ejected from a plane and I’m sure there is plenty more you have to tell me about that...” you hinted, subtle as a motherfucking sledgehammer. “I figured you might need a little TLC,” you said modestly.

He chewed his lip to bite back his smile. “All right, you got me. Take me to bed, sweet girl,” he gently released you and you smiled, taking him by the hand towards the bed.

“Do you want to shower first?”

“Actually, yeah. I’d love a shower,” he agreed. Warm his bones, relieve his joints.

“Or think I could lure you into a nice warm bath?”

He squinted. “Would I be bathing alone? Or with the woman I love, slippery, wet and naked with me?”

You pondered it and couldn’t resist your grin. Even in a world of pain, he was trying to get close to you. “I guess I could join you. Go take a seat and let me run the bath, okay?”

“Okay, sweet girl. Come here first…” he begged to kiss you and you willingly obliged. One of those curl your toes, and turn you into a bag of bones. The ones he was really fucking good at. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Bradley,” you said, a little dreamily, trying to get out of the fog of his embrace. “I was so scared I’d never see you again.”

“Oh, my baby,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry I scared you. I was scared too. But I’m home, and I am safe with you,” he slowly guided you back and you both eased on the bed. It didn’t go amiss the hiss he elicited when he moved to his back and tried to pull you above him.

“Bradley, you’re hurting,” you sighed as he put his index finger to his lips and blow out a gentle shh. You paused and sat beside him. “I know you’re happy to be home. Relieved, all the good things. But you need to rest, okay?” you moved to stand and went towards the bedroom. “Let me run that bath…” you told him as he begrudgingly nodded.

He was kidding himself if he thought you weren’t noticing the agony he was going through and you ran the bath, turning the water on full to drown out how he called for you to return to him in the bedroom.

Sure, he looked the same, he smelled the same, just as handsome. His beautiful face was marred with a few cuts and scratches, a small gash taped up on the side of his neck. But the doctor had made no secret bout the rib contusions. He was lucky to not have broken any bones with the blunt force traumas his body was subjected to. He would have headaches for a while and there would be physical therapy to ensure his body was in the right working order when he was able to get back in the air.

You couldn’t even fathom having him fly again, you didn’t know how you could trust yourself to get through this again. You almost lost him, and you knew you’d only just found him. You didn’t realise it, but tears were streaming down your face as Bradley made his way to the bathroom and found you.

“Love, are you okay?” he asked confused, coddling you into his arms. He held your face in his palms and kissed your forehead. “Sweet girl, tell me what’s wrong.”

“I almost lost you, Bradley,” you spat out before you could think of replying with some decorum.

“Oh, baby,” he said, frown lines melding into his skin. “I’m right here.”

“I was so scared. I have never been that scared,” you confided. “And I didn’t even have time to contemplate losing you. Because all I heard was that you were injured. But then Nat said you were alive, and in pretty good shape… all things considered.”

“Adrenaline,” Bradley admitted. “I was just glad to get back to the boat…”

“What can you tell me,” you held his face too, your fingers digging into the sharp edges of his stubble. He gazed at you, the apology in his eyes. “My brain needs to know. I can’t process this.”

“I’m sorry I did that to you,” was all he replied.

“I’ve never been through anything like that, Bradley. And I’ve seen some shit happen in the Navy.”

“I know, love. I know,” he cooed sweetly, his lips tenderly caressing yours. “I love you, I’m sorry,” he murmured against your mouth as you watched him pull away, the water in the rub overflowing to the floor.

“Fuck,” you muttered, easing past him and turning off the tap. Bradley retrieved the towels and tossed them over the water that was now covering the tiles. “I’m sorry.”

He laughed roughly, hitching a breath. “It’s some warm water. It’s okay. Don’t you dare apologise, love.”

You put your hand into the tub, a little more water overflowing as you rocked the flow and pulled the plug, letting the hot water scald you as it escaped. You put the plug back in when it appeared just the right amount of water for him to sit in comfortably. Warm his bones, soothe his aches, anchor him home. “Let me help you,” you said quietly.

“Thank you,” he said. He’d managed to dress himself at the hospital, but he may as well get the inevitable over. He took your hands as they began to pull his tee from his sweatpants. “Love, I just want to warn you…”

“About what?” you asked.

“I’m a bit banged up. Doc reckons I’m not at my worst yet.”

“Oh,” you said, carefully easing the white cotton up over his taut belly, his robust ropes of muscle firing as you touched him, the red and blue and yellow and purple running up his chest, and his right side. Fuck, if it was expected to get worse - “Oh, Bradley,” you said softly. You’d never seen bruising like it.

“Won’t be winning any beauty pageants for the next little while,” he joked.

“Please, you’d still win, pretty boy,” you quipped back at him without hesitation as he grinned dumbly. “Can you lift your arms?”

“Yeah,” he did as he was asked and tentatively raised them. He knew you didn’t miss the shudder in his breath, and you raised the tee before you discarded it.

“Oh, Bradley,” you said again.

“Hope I’m still enough for you,” he prayed you weren’t repulsed because from what he could spot in the mirror across from him? He was.

“I could never,” your cool hands splayed across his side ribs, and it relieved him. You bobbed a little to kiss his belly. His breathing hitched as he realised you were kissing bruises.

“That makes me feel so much better, love,” he inhaled, his voice still laced with desire.

He watched your hands lace into his sweatpants, easing them off his hips skilfully. You ignored that he was half-hard but he couldn’t help it, not with the care and consideration you were showing his ravaged body. You discarded his boxer briefs and he willingly stepped out of them, desperate to feel your skin against his. He held your hips, pressing his lip to yours. “Please join me?”

You nodded, raising you ratty, overworn sweater over your head. You reckoned you’d worn it since you’d got the news about him, you couldn’t fathom the idea to shower in case the phone rang, let alone sleep.

He hummed, his warm, large palms grasping all the skin they could before he skimmed the seams of your bralette and helped you remove it. He ducked slightly to decorate your decolletage in soft kisses and affectionate nips, his strong nose following the curve of your shoulder. He tossed the bralette away and his index fingers slinked to your tights and undies, no need to games. He watched you remove them and move from his grasp towards the bath, getting in first.

He could see you didn’t trust to relax against him, but he was okay with being the little spoon. He bit his lip, watched you lower yourself into the steaming water and you gave him a light grin, reaching your hand for his.

He could have broken every rib, nay every bone in his body, but it wouldn’t stop him from joining you. He was as careful as he could be, chewing back his agony as he crouched between your legs and laid back to rest himself against you. The way your curves welcomed him, how your thighs curled around him, your breasts pressing into his back. Soft, pliable, delicate. “This tub is tiny,” he realised decisively as you laughed and although you couldn’t see it, Bradley’s eyes fluttered closed. Bliss, church bells at your giggles.

You couldn’t afford an argument. “Agreed. Do you want me out?”

“No, no. Stay close to me,” he found your wrists and laced his fingers with yours, resting against his toned stomach. “I’m not letting you go.”

You rested your lips against the nape of his neck and felt his shudder as you placed single kisses in random spots. “I didn’t have time to think I’d never see you again,” you said softly. “I’m just so glad you’re home, sweetheart.”

“I’m sorry I scared you…” he said lowly. He played with your fingers, thinking how nice a single band around your ring finger would look. You’d never much discussed marriage, but you both knew your relationship was heading in that direction. He hoped sooner rather than later but you both had so much life to live together, as individuals but also partners. He had too much time to think in that fucking hospital bed about his wants and needs even if he already felt like he had it all because he had you.

But there was so much more to discover with you. Living together would be one thing, but vacations, big life events, babies. He never really thought about children before you. He never really thought about having children at all. But now there didn’t seem a way for a future without you and him creating a family. He couldn’t imagine tripping over kids, maybe just one or two and maybe some space in the backyard to toss around the baseball, or watching you show your sweet baby how to swim. The thought actually made his heart burst with pride.

“Bradley…” you repeated. He was so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t heard you.

“Sorry, love. What?”

“Where were you?”

He chuckled quietly. “In a galaxy far, far away.”

“You’re such a fucking nerd.”

“You know this about me though.”

“How hard you hit your head on that canopy?” you teased.

“Concussion was cleared,” he reminded you a little sternly. If it wasn’t cleared, he’d still be laying in the fucking hospital bed trying to find excuses to claw out of it.

“I said I heard your stomach growling. Were you getting hungry?” you repeated slowly, annunciating your words.

“I am a little, smart ass,” he admitted, snapping in a clipped tone as you giggled behind him. “But I don’t want to get out yet. Naked giggler behind me making me feel incredible.”

You laughed harder as he grinned wide, just like you hoped he was. “The water will be cold soon,” you reminded him.

“I’ll keep you warm.”

“You’re not medically approved for anything physical,” you sang behind him.

“You seem excited by that,” he murmured.

“Not in the least,” you admitted. “I just don’t want you in any discomfort.”

“Let me be the judge, huh?” he said softly and laughed loudly as you withdrew your linked fingers and gave a thumb’s up. He cursed. “Fuck, laughing hurts…” he moaned. “Shit.”

You sighed. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise, love. It won’t be like this long.”

“I don’t want to be the cause of you any pain, Bradley.”

“You could never,” he reassured you. His skin exploded into goose pimples as you kissed his shoulders and traps. “God, you’re making me so hard, love,” he muttered. “These mixed messages are killing me.”

“Down, boy,” your tongue tracing the well-worked muscles. “Let me love on you a bit. I’m not trying to work you up, I’m just happy you’re home. Do you want me to stop?”

“Nooo…” he tried to contain his excitement, his cock resting back on his tummy, long, thick and wanting. Clearly, nothing physiologically wrong there, he realised, incredibly relieved. “I’m trying my damnedest not to get worked up with when the sexiest woman alive – ”

“Debatable.”

“Sexiest woman alive is workin’ me over so fuckin’ good,” his voice was sinfully low. “When she is takin’ the time to show you that you’re all that matters? There’s nothing sexier, sweet girl. You’re driving me wild,” his head lolled further back and you gently bit into the flesh of his neck. “Fuck me,” he drawled. Needing respite, he carefully reached for his cock. “I’m sorry, love. I can’t help it, you’re too good to me. I need this,” he lightly made work of the situation in hand, his cock pulsating with need as you massaged his pecs, considerate of pressure and any pain you might have caused him. You couldn’t resist watching over his shoulder as he continued pumping himself in his hands and you’d deny it to the grave, but you were awestruck at the fluid movement of his body, the way his body clenched under tension. You loved watching him touch himself and ware what made him feel good.

“You’re so sexy,” you thighs widening and pressing your core against his back. “I could never forget this…”

He whined, reaching back to kiss you roughly, pumping his hand faster and with more pressure and he shuddered in your hold. You knew he was so close to coming and within seconds, his pearly cum spurt, cascading across his chest, abs and palm with an aggrieved groan against your mouth. “Holy fuck,” he panted, dousing his hands in the water before he reached around to palm your face and kiss you deeply. He rested his forehead against yours and you knew he must have been in pure agony. “I love you so fuckin’ much.”

“I love you too, Bradley,” you kissed the apples of his cheeks, his eyebrows, his chin, the bridge of his nose, and his lips again.

A few moments later, you both started to realise the water was starting to cool and you volunteered to get out of the tub first and help him from the bath without incident. He let out a litany of curses as he moved to push himself to his feet and grinned when standing. “That hurt. I’m probably not having another bath in the next while.”

“Fair,” you agreed with him, wrapping your towel around your chest and offering your hands to him. “Please be careful, Bradley.”

“My legs are strong,” he told you. “But the fuckin’ ribs, Jesus Christ.”

“How about you pound those painkillers after this, and I’ll order some food in?” you suggested as he skilfully stepped over the rim and onto the bathmat with you. You tucked the fluffy towel around his waist, water dribbling down his chest as he gave you that sweet quirk of the lips and he kissed you again, safe and secure in your arms.

masterlist.

A/N: the tag list no longer exists. To keep up to date, give @notroosterbradshaw-library a follow x

#notroosterbradshaw #rooster #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #rooster fanfic #rooster imagine #rooster top gun #rooster smut #rooster bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw angst #bradley bradshaw x reader #Bradley bradshaw smut #rooster angst

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candyfloss5000 · 6 months

Text

Worth the pain

Nathan Prescott x gender neutral reader

(Poorly punctuated and not proof read)

Summary: your life and Nathan's are both fucked up in different ways, but somehow your mangled and spiralling lives have intertwined. You're closer than you've ever imagined anyone could be, but you can't face the feelings that linger around you both, because you can't face loving someone again just for them to leave you to pick up the peices afterwards.

"Bite The Hand" is the song that inspired me to write this.

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

Fuck Black-shitting-well academy. The only things it's brought you is more things to tell your imaginary therapist. Like fuck you were going to see a real one. You did that along time ago and the only thing it achieved was people pitying you. You don't need strangers fucking pity for your fucked up life, you already know it's messed up beyond repair, you don't need a fucking therapist to tell you that. Everyone you've spoke about your past to has either given you a disgusted look, or fake pity.

You just want to scream out everything in your mind to someone who won't give you any expression, almost like a blank wall that you can just yell and scream and cry at. That's what Nathan Prescott has become for you and sometimes, you've been that for him as well. You can just talk and talk and talk at him and he'll just sit there, seemingly not paying attention but mentally noting every word you've said. He'll only speak when you request him to, but most of the time he doesn't say anything at all. And you return the favour by letting him vent to you and listen to all his words.

Now, you're both silently laying on Nathan's bed in his dorm, your legs up agaisnt the cushions as you lay the wrong way on the bed. You just stare at the white ceiling, passing a cigarette between each other. You forgot to buy a pack and it's Nathan's last one, so you compromised. You've remained in silence, since you entered his room ages ago, waiting for either one of you to say something.

Nathan hands you the cigarette, after he took a long drag, before breaking the some what comforting silence, "Do you ever think about..." His pause causes you to turn your head to look at him, but he's still staring up at the ceiling. "Getting the fuck outta here? Just fucking off and forgetting about all this shit?"

"Every second of every day." You reply to him, as you pass him the cigarette back.

"But there's always that nagging in the back of your head to just put up with everyone's shit." Nathan speaks for them both and you turn your head to face the ceiling again. Uncontrollable dread sits in your soul, as you try to convince yourself that your past isn't repeating itself yet again. "And it always seems to out weigh the idea of finally being free." He adds to his previous sentence. "I'm gonna get the fuck outta here one day, you know?"

Your anxious mind can't help but pick up on the fact that he said "I'm" and not "we". Has he already decided that you are only a fragment of his life? You should've known better. You told yourself when you went to Blackwell not to get attached to anyone. They'd only leave like every fucker else, you had told yourself. First, it was your mother leaving you for some drugdealing asshole, then it was your childhood friend picking some over girl for you, then your older siblings moved out far away (they still don't try to contact you), which only added to your father's alcoholism. There's always someone else that's the first choice. You gave up trying to get everybody to like you a long time ago.

During your mind's spiralling anxious thoughts, you don't even notice the tear that runs down the side of your face, until a soft hand wipes it away. The physical contact brings you back to reality and you turn your head to face Nathan, who's already looking at you. The cigarette sits in an ashtray that's ontop of his bed. Your eyes stare into his ocean blue ones and you only just realise how close you are, your faces are only a breath away from one another.

"Tell me what's going on up there." He places his hand on the side of your face and slightly taps your forehead to emphasise his words, before tucking the hair that had fallen infront of your face behind your era.

You silently study his face, his blonde soft hair, his angel eyes and your eyes finally land on his red lips. You desperately want to take the leap and kiss him until your lungs begin to burn from the lack of air. You want to hide yourself in his arms, where you're safley locked away from the world. You want him to hold you so delicately, as if you'd break like glass.

You tear your eyes away from his plush lips and sigh as you can't bring yourself to look at him anymore. "I can't keep doing this." You pathetically mutter under your breath, hating the way more salty tears push their way into your eyes.

"Doing what?" Nathan's voice has dropped to a whisper as you looks at you.

"This! I can't keep loving people who leave! I can't let more kindling be added to this burning feeling inside me!" Your voice raises, but you're not angry. You're just so tired and fucking emotionally drained. You try to ignore the never ending stream of tears that flow from your eyes. "It hurts too much and I can't do it anymore!" You subconsciously grasp his shirt, as if that's enough to stop him from disappearing.

Nathan says your name, as quite as a whisper and you just stare into his eyes. The hand on your cheek moves to lightly grasp the back of your scalp and Nathan moves forward to place his forehead agaisnt your own, in an attempt to ground you to the present. "I'm not going anywhere without you. I don't fucking care if it means we travel the entire fucking world, I'm not letting you go." He vows, with such a sincere look in his eyes, a look you've never seen anyone give you before.

Silence falls once again and you're still so close to the point where you can feel each other's breath on your faces. Neither of you can help but glance down at each other's lips. Slowly but surely, your bodies move impossibly closer and your lips dance over one another.

His touch burns and stabs into your soul, but you can't convince yourself to let him go. Nathan's here and he's staying. He's worth the pain.

#Life is strange #life is strange x reader #Nathan prescott #Nathan prescott x reader #max caulfield #Chloe price #Rachel amber #Victoria chase #warren graham #Song fic #Oneshot #Imagine #Fluff #Angst #fluff and angst #Spotify

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agoodroughandtumble · 4 months

Text

Like the Stars in the Sky - Roronoa Zoro x Reader Part 9

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Warning: 18+. Language, implied smut

Summary: A companion piece, and continuation of, A Man of Little Words

A/N: [Part 1]; [A Man of Little Words]

Zoro took the frown on your face as a sign that his attempt at light-heartedness hadn’t exactly gone to plan. But then, he supposed, you’d asked a stupid question anyway so it wasn’t entirely his fault. He groaned inwardly. This was ridiculous. He was a grown adult and yet here he was stumbling over his words as if the ability to speak was a foreign concept.

Fucking sake. Fucking...you. Everything had been fine. Everything had made sense until you had decided to make him fall in love with you.

He regarded your expression curiously, trying to work out what you were thinking yet failing miserably. But he did notice the way the moonlight illuminated your features. All that achieved was to make him want to kiss you again. His heart jumped at the thought, and he took a long, steadying breath. The longer the silence engulfed the two of you the more he was becoming convinced going after you had a been a terrible idea.

Fuck it. The silence had gone on for too long. “Are we…?” he stopped, not entirely sure where his sentence was going. Are we what? Fine? Obviously you weren’t. Obviously everything between the two of you was almost irreparably fucked.

You shuffled forward slightly, repeating his words expectantly.

Zoro cleared his throat and shook his head slightly – an attempt to shake off his feelings as well. Right. He was making a decision. “You should get some sleep.” He said bluntly before turning around and heading back towards the crow’s nest, clenching and unclenching his fists as he went and trying desperately to convince himself that this was the right thing to do.

TWO DAYS LATER

Yesterday the Sunny had docked at a new island, and thankfully the exploration had provided enough distraction that you had managed to almost completely avoid Zoro. The lack of proximity had provided some much needed clarity. Maybe, probably, your feelings were always going to be unrequited. That was just going to have to be good enough. You couldn’t make Zoro reciprocate, but you could protect your heart – as long as you managed to continue to ignore him.

“Berry for your thoughts?”

You smiled as Nami sat down on the sand beside you. After an afternoon of wandering the small coastal town you were now relaxing on the beach with a few bottles of beer. Several feet away you could hear Zoro and Sanji arguing as the cook prepared a barbecue – not that you were giving the swordsman any of your attention.

“I’m alright,” you replied and held up your beer bottle clink against hers, “Got a beer, got a view.”

“Yeah, okay.”

You frowned at her. “What?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe the fact that you and Zoro haven’t been within ten feet of each other for days.”

You cursed inwardly and took a swig of your beer. If anyone was going to notice your change in behaviour it would be Nami. “Maybe he’s just being unusually annoying.” You tried to sound nonchalant.

Nami’s raised eyebrow told you she clearly wasn’t convinced, and knowing her she wasn’t going to let this go easily. She was far too intuitive for your liking.

“It’s nothing,” you let out a sigh, “Literally nothing is going on with us.”

“Ah,” Nami nodded, “So that’s what’s wrong.”

Oh shit. “Wait, it’s not like that.” You could feel your cheeks flushing and ran a hand through your hair. You had definitely put your foot in it now.

“Hmm. That’s not what I heard.”

Your eyes widened. “What have you heard? What’s he said?”

Nami smirked, “So you do like him.”

“Oh fuck off.” You nudged her shoulder with your own and then let out a deep sigh. “Is it that obvious?”

The redhead hummed in thought. “To me, yes. Everyone else? I’d be surprised.” She smiled wickedly at you, “I’m sure Sanji will be heartbroken.

You rolled your eyes, a hint of a smirk gracing your lips. “I’m sure he’ll cope.”

An easy silence fell on the two of you, and you let your gaze briefly linger on Zoro – still arguing with Sanji. It was one of the few times the swordsman was remotely animated. You chewed your lips in thought. It had been torturous avoiding him so you were going to allow yourself a few moments of indulgence. Thankfully he seemed oblivious to your staring.

“You really like him, don’t you?”

Nami’s voice pulled you away from your thoughts and you began to fiddle awkwardly with your bottle. It had been hard enough admitting your feelings to yourself let alone anyone else. Nami knew – but there was a huge difference between her knowing and you telling. “Am I an idiot?”

“Not for having feelings, but yes, obviously if you’re trying to pretend you don’t.”

You groaned and turned your gaze back to the ocean in front of you. “So what am I supposed to do?”

Nami rolled her eyes, “You tell him.”

#opla #one piece live action #one piece #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader

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wttcsms · 2 months

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based off of this concept! this fic will feature (besides the obvious romance + smut all my ghost fics feature) a plot centered on dealing with grief, ptsd, his reluctant return to civilian life, a look into his friendship/bond with soap + more! a lot of deeper content and more plot heavy and ghost-centric than any of my other projects, but i am very happy to start working on this <3 the fic will span from his first meeting with you all the way to him starting a family with you, and how he still deals with his trauma and baggage from his time in the army + the effects it has. this fic is all about the healing journey & how it's not a linear progress; there will be days where you feel yourself getting better, and there will be incredibly hard days.

please enjoy this sneak peek of the opening scene & let me know your thoughts 🤍 very excited to give my cod girlies some content

“Tell me a joke,”

His words come out in pants — anxious, soft, desperate. There’s something in our brains that tells our bodies to hold on ‘til the end of the line. Ghost doesn’t want to tell him a joke. He wants to say keep holding on.

“C’mon, mate.” He’s trying to crack a smile, but his breathing is getting more erratic. Ghost looks into his eyes, sees that he’s pleading with him. Ghost’s hand is pressed against Soap’s, but there’s so much blood — just a gunshot, just a flesh wound, still too much fucking blood — that it’s hard to hang on. His hand almost slips a few times, but Ghost is nothing if not stubborn.

It’s important to keep pressure on the wound. He told this to Soap, ignoring the severity of the situation when the pack of gauze he pressed against Soap’s abdomen immediately turned red and damp with his comrade’s — his friend’s — blood.

Now, he repeats it like a mantra. At this rate, Soap’s not going to have any more blood to try to keep inside of him.

“Now's not the time for jokes.” Ghost mutters, but he pauses when Soap takes his other hand and puts it over his.

“No more army humor for a friend? Don’t be selfish.”

“You’ll get your damn joke when we get out of this bloody mess.”

Soap laughs, but immediately stops, wincing in pain. “‘Bloody’, I see what you did there.”

“We need to get you out of here—”

“You know I can’t move.”

“I’ll carry you.” Ghost pretends like they didn’t already attempt this, like moving Soap didn’t put him in an excruciating amount of pain.

There’s something in our brains that tells our heart we have to keep attempting to achieve the impossible. We won’t be able to move on otherwise.

Soap doesn’t remind him what a failure that idea was. Soap doesn’t tell him to just leave him behind, because he’s already tried that, and the look of disgust that flashed through Ghost’s eyes told him enough. No fucking way.

“I’m glad we got to be on the same team—”

“Don’t get sentimental. Save that shit for someone else.” Ghost continues to apply pressure to his wound, but his brain — worthless piece of shit, it is — tells him that it’ll be all for naught. He’s lost too much blood already. It’s not a trick of the light when Ghost realizes that Soap’s skin is turning a sickly pallor. Ghost thinks he tastes blood in his mouth, and he releases the grip his teeth has on his tongue. What he should have told Soap was I’m glad we got to be on the same team, too.

“Didn’t quite get a chance to grow better than you, did I, Lt.?”

Simon wakes up, breathing heavily, eyes adjusting easily to the darkness of his bedroom. The bed’s too soft, his pillow’s too soft, the cotton feels foreign underneath his sweaty skin. He shuts his eyes once more, willing the dream to come back to his mind before it slips away from his consciousness, like most dreams have a tendency to do. Even if this dream features a dying Soap, it’s still a chance to see his friend’s face again.

The dream doesn’t come back to him; he’s slipped from his grasp once again.

The dream will come back to him, like it always does. Sometimes the dream shifts; the scenery is different, or the words Ghost wants to say get caught up in his throat, or sometimes, he does manage to spit it out. It’s getting to the point where he can’t determine what’s memory and what’s wishful thinking. All he’s certain of is that he lets his mask slip; lets the last thing his friend sees be the face of the man who’s with him ‘til the end of the line.

You’re the best of us all, Johnny.

#obviously some creative liberties were taken with soap's death #pay attention to the changes between 'ghost' and 'simon' and his reluctance to call him johnny unless it's a v sentimental moment <3 #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #oooh I'm genuinely so excited for this

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sillyassonepieceheadcanons · 1 year

Text

Teaching them to say "I love you" in your native/foreign language: (Robin, Luffy, Sanji, Law) x GN Reader, SFW

Notes: [text] is supposed to mean it's in your language of choice

Whether they're saying "I <3 u" platonically or romantically is up to you

Summary: their approach to learning language plus how successful they are about being taught

Robin

In general, she's interested in learning the dialects of the world, and will ask you to teach her other phrases in your native tongue too.

This becomes a whole thing, and in the daytime the other crewmates can hear your voices repeating phrases like,

(Off pronunciation) "[I want directions towards the East Blue]"

"No no, you gotta say it like... [I want directions towards the East Blue]..."

When you two get night shifts together, a lot of it is now spent coaching her on the phonetics and sometimes writing the words out for her to learn too. Before, conversation with Robin was a bit difficult to achieve, so you're glad you're getting to spend time with her this way.

She's a very good student and achieves excellent pronunciation thanks to ur help.

Emotional language doesn't come easy for her, but after one particularly productive session of learning, she smiles and says, "Can you check my pronunciation on this again? [I love you]"

Luffy (+ a lil Zoro)

He's not an easy person to teach but lord you can try.

At first, you try to teach him + Zoro practical phrases in case either ever gets lost in a foreign country, but they both misconstrue sentences and always end up accidentally saying the most vile and awful shit imaginable.

You decide to teach them just one phrase, as love couldn't possibly be misunderstood.

"Repeat after me Luffy, Zoro, [I... love.... you...]"

"[Į... ļõve...ÿou...]" "[İ... łove... ou...]"

Luffy repeats the new phrase once curiously, and then something clicks under that big straw hat. He gets a great big smile on his face and starts saying “[I love you! I love you! I love you!]” as fast as he can to you, over and over. He starts going around saying it to everyone in the crew, who have no idea what he’s saying but smile anyways. Zoro acts like he doesn't care enough to say it in a he's-actually-just-too-shy kind of way.

Once, you guys encounter an enemy who speaks your native tongue, so Luffy says the only phrase he knows... declaring his love to the enemy, which baffles them but has you laughing your ass off.

Sanji

Actually it happens that he's already memorized how to say "I love u" in just about every language across the blue seas... because he wanted to make sure he could get his message across to any lady in the world, even if they don't speak his language.

Absolutely pretends like he DIDN’T KNOW though, so you can teach him and hear you say "[I love you]" a million times.

Learning foreign languages was also something impressed on him by his father as part of an unkind curriculum, so getting to experience it in a new light with you, as a man free from his family, is something which deep down he is very grateful for.

Will now alternate between saying he loves you in English and in your dialect when he sees you.

Law

Besides being good at fights, as a doctor, he has a very studious side of him too. However, he rejects having the first phrase he learn to be “I love you,” instead of something practical.

If you want to be a little mischievous you can promise to teach him a polite greeting when you’re actually teaching him to say, “[Good evening, may I be so kind as to propose my eternal love for you?]” If he ever finds out he’s going to get your ass beat though.

Wouldn’t seek out learning because he has other things to do as captain, but if you two are ever bored together he’d enjoy having you coming over and teaching him. Sometimes you like pulling out one of medical books and translating different body parts and organs for him to learn to the best of your ability.

One snowy day you find him standing alone on the deck of the Polar Tang, and maybe because he had something to drink that day, he starts talking to you about the Heart Pirate's crew and how grateful he is to everyone but especially you. At the end, you almost don't catch it, but you swear you hear him say, "[I love you]"

#one piece #trafalgar law #nico robin #monkey d luffy #vinsmoke sanji #x reader #gn #I hope what I'm writing isn't too cheesy. but even if it is. it's ok we're just here to have fun right

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gloombeauty · 3 months

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Lana lost every Grammy she was nominated for. To Taylor, Billie and a stupid band with a stupid name like Boygenius. I guess Lana didn't bribe the Grammy voters committee hard enough. Or didn't buy them $100,000 gifts. She looked so broken trying to fake smile through the whole show. Then Taylor literally dragged her on stage. Lana didn't want that. She looked humiliated and broken up there. Even the way she was dressed looked like she was going to a funeral. I don't think Lana should ever entertain the Grammy's ever again. 💔

Sit down, this will be long.

My love and admiration for Lana Del Rey and Olivia Rodrigo grew even more after what I witnessed at the Grammy's this year.

1 - It's a known fact that the Grammys are trophies that are usually bought by the artists and the labels. They call it "gifts" but it's accurately described as "bribes." That's what it is - bribes. "Gifts" bought for these fucking Grammy committee of voters so that you have a chance to get that Grammy nom and even better - the trophy.

These committees are people straight from the music industry. Usually men. It wasn't so obvious back in the 60's, 70's, 80's, 90's or even in the early 2000's - but by 2009, it was obvious how the game went. Many artists back in the day won by merit and talent. Many are criminally ignored. Led Zeppelin never won a Grammy. They got a Lifetime Achievement award from the Grammys in 2005. That shit doesn't count but whatever. They were ignored for over 30 years. Michael Jackson lost to that guy who sang "Don't Worry Be Happy." Jethro Tull won for best Metal Recording over Metallica.

So, you see -

2 - Look at the artists who keep winning every fucking year. Taylor Swift. Beyonce. Billie Eilish. Adele. Do the math. It's not a coincidence. Billie acting all goofy and shocked when she wins is all an act. She's an industry plant who's been in the industry thanks to her parents. That stupid act she pulls every single time she wins is tiresome and old. The same exact way it's an act when Taylor feigns shock that she won yet another award. You two conniving bitches paid for your award wins. Cut the fake shock/surprised act.

3 - Speaking of Taylor Swift, she is a demon within the industry itself. Even her own fans said Midnights wasn't that great, but here she is winning "Album Of The Year" (again!) over Ocean Blvd and Guts. Both albums being miles better then Midnights.

4 - Speaking of, shout out to Lana and Olivia Rodrigo for their class and dignity. Having to fake smile for hours while Taylor and Billie were swiping all those trophies was hard to watch. Even Olivia, who's usually her sweet cheery self, had moments last night where she looked done. Lana was already done by the time she hit the red carpet. She had lost to Boygenius twice by that time. Phoebe Bridgers was already a Grammy sweetheart having been nominated for several Grammys for her solo work in 2020. She knew how to play the Grammy game this time around.

But the first sickening part of the night was when Olivia Rodrigo was performing Vampire and Taylor Swift was the only person standing and dancing - while Olivia performed. What fucking shit was that? Taylor, being a monstrous egotistical narcissist, had to stand up during Olivia's moment to shine. She had to fucking dance to a song that wasn't even a fucking dance song. For what? Just to show the world "look! no hate between me and Olivia! All is good! No beef! I support all women! look at me! look at me!"

Let me repeat:

Taylor Swift was literally the only asshole dancing while everyone respectfully sat and watched Olivia perform. For what? To steal Olivia's moment. Plain and simple. She's a narcissist after all.

The way Olivia carried herself the whole night is commendable. I saw Olivia having to fake smile her way every time Taylor beat her in some of the nominations. The camera would pan right up to Olivia's face. This girl is so much better then me. I would have just sat there drinking my wine, but Olivia is smart. Any other reaction from her would have had the Swifties sending her death threats online. They are already attacking her on X for not clapping harder when Taylor won. The maniacal delusions of the Swifteys. They are worst then the Barbz and the Beehive.

In the end, Taylor got what she wanted. The camera panning at her as Olivia was on stage singing and then beating Olivia in several of the categories she was nominated for.

5 - Another moment of disgust at the Grammys was Taylor Swift obligating Lana to join her on stage. Like, that was fucking soul crushing to watch. It was bad enough Lana lost to Taylor - but the kick to the stomach was dragging Lana on stage. She didn't want to go on stage. She shook her head, said no and pulled away. Taylor wouldn't have any of that. She grabbed Lana's arm and dragged her on stage. And for what? As a favor for Lana? So Lana can feel what it's like to stand on a Grammy stage? What was the point? All those nice things Taylor said about Lana's legacy could have been easily said while Lana sat in her seat in the audience.

Lana standing on that stage looked defeated. She didn't want to be there. It was written all over her face. She's not as good as Olivia when it comes to faking a smile. That poor woman looked sad, broken and defeated.

Meanwhile, Taylor is up there being a smiley giddy cunt, accepting her award and demanding Lana, Jack and his wife to stand right next to her. That is some insane mindfucking. I have seen some mindfucking in my time, but what Taylor did last night takes the fucking cake.

I'm glad Lana stayed behind and didn't stand next to Taylor. She was holding on to dear life to the guy standing next to her on stage. This was just too cruel and humiliating to watch.

Lana was already heartbroken by the time she hit the red carpet. That thing on stage just broke her even more. Expect in the next few days a revised version of the questioning of the culture. Expect her IG to be deactivated. Expect her to explode, implode and snap. It's coming.

Don't even get me into Taylor completely ignoring Celine Dion. Not a single hug or kiss for our Celine. Nope. Nothing. After everything Celine has been going through this year.

It's telling that Olivia took so many pictures with other artists that were at the Grammys. Not one single picture with Taylor Swift.

Yeah, no beef. Yeah right.

I know Swifteys are like "she was OnLy trying to be NiCe to LaNa you hater!!!" - like, spare me. Pick up a book and learn to observe what is in front of you.

I hope that Lana cut all ties with the Grammys. That she no longer submits albums/songs to their committee. I feel like what happened last night was incredibly cruel and done on purpose. Lana must have pissed off a Grammy voter(s), maybe refusing a date? Perhaps she refused sexual favors? It's not that farfetched. This is the music industry after all - one of the most insidious industries. Just ask Ashanti.

I hope Lana boycotts the Grammys.

I hope she works with a different producer. I'm sick of Jack Antonoff.

I also hope she cut ties with Taylor. That shit she pulled last night was fucked.

That's all I have to say on this subject.

#lana del rey #olivia rodrigo #taylor swift

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elvenbeard · 6 months

Text

It's 8:42 in the morning, I didn't sleep, I finished Phantom Liberty.

MAN. OH MAN.

I have so so so many emotions, I'm so... HHHH.

Big big big big big spoilers below the cut.

I only played through one of the expansion endings so far (siding with Songbird), and I played the new main game ending... and I'm such a fucking puddle of feels now hhhh.

What I can say is that... I still love the Sun ending a lot for Vince, and that won't ever change. But this new one now... I don't even know where to start MAAAnnn...

I started my 12 hour gaming session yesterday briefly before shit went down like... Feels like it was all in a different life (HAH). I really liked the whole prep-work for taking on Hansen, tracking down the rental car, the convo with Songbird about her past, and man, I said that before, the lil scene with Alex had me bawling. The little human moments of connection in the face of all the horrors Cyberpunk does so well that get me everytime. Vince getting up to dance with her was so fucking cute, and internally both me and him and Alex probably too knew that that would be the last moment of peace - and potentially (and he ended up being right) the last night they'd play on the same team.

Like... Even after the convo with Song, me, the player, was pretty sure I'd end up siding with Reed. He and Vince had a lot in common with their backgrounds, principles, etc etc. and Songbird seemed out of control, in a way, like Reed had said. But that whole sentiment he kept repeating ("she doesn't know what's best for her", "I gotta save her" etc etc) was beginning to creep into Vince's head and rubbing him the wrong way (having grown up with an over-bearing, controlling parent, the whole control-shit at Arasaka, etc etc) - subconsciously at first, but it got to a point where he could no longer rationalize it away.

AND THEN. FUCKING FUCK. The faceplate. I had been dreading that shit so fucking much, I knew it was coming but yeah... I think Vince would rather die than having that done on him out of his own free will. Like... the tech is insanely cool for a spy ngl. But Vince is not a spy. Not really. With his background and opinions of cyberware and everything... getting your face replaced is a step too far, a step he wouldn't wanna take, ever, unless like, he got his face melted off in a horrible accident or something like that. Not for a one-off mission, more or less, for people he didn't even fully trust. Both he and me were hoping that somehow there would be a way around it. Like you can talk your way out of taking the oath and so many other things. But no, this thing is forced on you (for plot reasons, obviously, and again, I fucking love the concept of it and the options it offers for gameplay. I'm really just speaking for my V's personal experience here XD)

That whole situation felt so fucking invasive to begin with, and I'm not even speaking about the cyberware. There was so much pressure, from Reed and the Ripper, zero explanation as to what exactly the Ripper was gonna do, just how invasive the procedure is (that it's not reversible just like that, for example). V was never shown the thing beforehand, never got an explanation what it's made of, how it works, how to maintain it. There way not a single friendly word, nocalming him down. Worst doctor expereience ever, and that's quite the achievement with Vince's trackrecord of dealing with horrible doctors in the past. The whole thing was traumatizing as hell for him, the whole experience, just being knocked out without much of a warning, then not even fully and HHHHHH.

And then he stumbles back out of there, desperately clinging onto the hope and trying to tell himself that it's all gonna be worth it, all the trauma, the pain, questioning his identity even more than he already does. But the show must go on. And so he goes on to kidnap the Frenchies, and for some reason he wants to believe these two nobodies will make it out of this mess alive somehow, against all odds. Yeah. No. But not just *that* they died, but *how* they died was the final straw. So fucking cold and brutal. Vince was shocked how Alex was suddenly so cold and brutal, although not quite as much as Reed. And then when Vince gets rightfully upset about the situation, how it was handled, how inhumane... Like, he had to kill a lot of people working for Arasaka, and as a merc, but he would always wanna make it quick, painless, if it was really necessary to kill someone to begin with. Unbekownst to the victim, bullet to the head, precise and quick. Especially if it was supposed to be an execution, not something that happens in combat. But these two kids were scared shitless, dragged out of the car and not executed but butchered, brutally. And when Vince gets upset, complains, is enraged about how unprofessional these two alleged spys are, Reed says "they were just some criminals, why would you care?" - you know, to the lowly criminal standing in front of him. That was the line that shattered the fragile trust V had left in Reed for good. Like... he didn't trust So Mi either, but she had just as many reasons to distrust Reed and the FIA and Myers as V, and he would've rather taken his chances with her instead after this final display of something he could absolutely not stand behind any longer.

Damn. I loved the whole sequence with Kurt, the convo, pretending to be Aymeric (from a player standpoint it was amazing, I also cackled later when I played Run this Town and got to use the disguise in a different context xD but honestly, Vince was hating every second of the meeting, also knowing he was just about to betray the people that hat brought him there.

Kurt's death was... maaan. Epic and a letdown at the same time. He would've deserved so much more screentime and a bigger part in all of it. I would've loved the option to side with him xD but then the DLC wouldve been even larger and even more complicated. Loved it as is though, still but yeah. Needs more Kurt!!!

Vince had no regrets about betraying Reed and putting his trust in Songbird until the very end... even when she ended up betraying him one final time with her revelation of the cure only working once. I fucking loved the confrontation with Reed on the bridge at the spaceport, I had been crossing my fingers so so hard for it to come to a showdown like that. I was so tempted for the dialogue choice of "take her, and I don't want anything for it in return". Cause like... despite everything, Vince had no desire to kill Reed. It wouldn't have changed a thing. Too many people had already died on his behalf anyway, and his hope for a cure was lost either way. So he ended up surrendering So Mi. I picked the option "deal", because I absolutely wanted to see the new main game ending, and I'm not sure if maybe with the "I dont want anything" choice you lock yourself out of it, but I will definitely test that out next time around.

The whole stuff that happened at the spaceport in general... I'm still trying to process it. And of fucking course Mr Blue-Eyes has his disgusting creepy fingers in all of it (or one of his associates) by helping So Mi, offering her this way out. I hate it (I love it). But that whole sequence of getting her to the spacecraft, I loved it so so much. Like all the boss fights and main missions, it was so nicely paced and structured, I had so much fun and I'm speaking as someone who is not good at fighting in video games.

So Mi's betrayal hurt, but letting her down in the end hurt even more. URGH. UUUURGH. But like... in that moment Vince was also like "okay... no cure. fine. But I'm not without leads, I'm just so done with all this spy crap. I should've never agreed to help her in the first place." If anything, he was sorry for things not turning out good for any of them really, but when do they do in NC.

He was glad to talk things out with Reed in the end to a degree, say his farewells. Still not getting his hopes up too high about him, still not really trusting him all that much. In a way still sympathizing, but at that point he'd be certain that he's done with the corporate world and anything like it for good. Revenge and hard feelings were pointless, Reed suffering from his decisions was punishment enough for Vince in that case.

I'm not sure if Vince would end up asking the FIA for help realistically. Like I said, I love the Sun ending for him a lot from a narrative standpoint. And Johnny's whole "please, don't do it", and him getting wiped as the price for it for good... that was at the same time not as bad as I had pictured it, but simultaneously it was awful. So yeah... I really don't know if, with all the choices present, the FIA would be number one. Realistically he'd wanna hear out Hanako first, and I think with how time-sensitive everything else is beyond that, the FIA is propbably off the table. Either way though... I wanted to see the ending.

I was bawling my eyes out during the AV ride, V and Johnny making up, talking a final time... and Johnny calling him Vincent in the end fucking destroyed me asödhjfasfasdf ;______; Doctor detected heightened emotions not just on V but on me as well that was so... HHHHHH. My feels ;__;

And then... the new main game ending. God. Like... ever since those new holocall icons of Kerry and Judy appearing a while ago, with Kerry's 2079 world tour promo... We had to get a timeskip. And I feared the cure would be tied to working for the FIA long term or some shit like that, something that would drive a wedge between V and his loved ones for good. The cure being tied to all sorts of horrible things I kept imagining...

And then the reality was so much more gentle and in a way so so fucking happy if that makes sense? Like... fuck, two years have passed. And fucking Reed and no one else in fucking Langley apparently considered even telling anyone back in NC about the complications of V's operation and all. Y'know, keep his loved ones in the loop after even telling him "tell your friends you'll be gone for a bit, a month tops". And that's the worst betrayal of the whole expansion for me cause like... it was so pointless. Did no one tell anyone cause they had no hope? Cause they wanted to sever V's ties on purpose? Was it Reed's decision, someone else's? Was it intended as punishment? Or was it downright laziness and uncaringness for V as a person, and he maybe just an interesting yet complicated experiment. That one really really hurt. And Vince could not blame Kerry or any of the others for being hurt by that and having moved on with their lives. He would've in their spot, for sure. And no, Reed, he absolutely fucking will not work for the FIA, fuck off. And then Vince fucked out of there as quickly as possible and never looked back.

The whole "your body can't tolerate implants anymore" thing... Did not really hit him that hard. Like... yeah. Netrunning, hacking, which he was always so fucking good at, is not gonna be a thing anymore in this timeline. And that he'll miss sorely. Feeling really really fucking capable about something he built a big part of his life around. That was a central part of his life for all his life, really.

But apart from that... he was always low on chrome. He wouldnt miss it nearly as much as other Vs I think. I think what he struggles with more is just recovering from the coma physically, how weak he is for sure for a while, the fact he probably will never be as fit as he used to be. But still... there's hope in that. Cause he gets to live. He never wanted to be a merc, he would make a damn good fixer for sure... but he'll find something else, something less dangerous. He won't be happy being just a nobody in the crowd, but he's also fallen from high places before and climbed back up, coming out on top every time, every time more himself, seizing new opportunities and making his way. He can make it out of that hole. Like, yeah, the timing sucks... But Kerry wants to see him again, and they can rekindle things. I'm sure they will. I'm so happy Kerry got to play at the Crystal Palace, he's so on top of his game, given how low he was when he and V first met. You know... he says he was hit hard by V's disappearance and potential death, but he's out there rocking the world. He's doing good, he didn't fall back into a spiral of depression and despair. And that makes me so happy. And Vince is gonna hold on to that thought of a future together not just not being off the table, but being so much more certain than before now.

Vince is upset about Panam being so upset, but he can understand her well. He wouldn't feel much different than her. He is sad about River not wanting to see him, but he hopes he can change his mind, somewhere down the line. He is so excited to meet Judy's wife, he is so happy she found peace and love. Hell, Vince would happily just be Kerry's useless trophy husband, if I'm being completely honest, and it's possible now. With no obligations in Night City left, no reputation to upkeep, they can do whatever they want. Rogue promises he wont be forgotten, he will be a legend of the Afterlife forever - one that actually gets to live a full life. Who can forget about all the horrors. He's gonna adapt and find his new thing and like, you know...

This little scene, and the farewell scene with Misty hit me so hard cause... remember this?

I actually... had something very very very similar planned for Vince in the long run that we get with PL now. I'm feeling extremely validated with my headcanons and ideas and concepts and just... Yeah. Not that that's absolutely necessary for fanfiction to be valid or anything, but I'm just... so happy.

I said it in a prev post, PL is the gift that gives on giving by granting me all my little wishes and confirming so many tiny random headcanons. But I didn't think it would also get me pretty much the ending I'd been working on already in the background, the one that he'd deserve. So yeah... idk. Cyberpunk can have happy (or at least bittersweet) endings, it does for me 100% now. V gets to live and survive, if you choose to, canonically.

#elven plays cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk 2077 #phantom liberty #phantom liberty spoilers #dont mind me it's just absolutely pouring on my face #I'm not crying about pixel men again noooo

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theangeldiaries · 2 years

Text

Creating a better manifestation process for yourself

Try not to over consume manifestation content.

I love a good confidence boost by watching a youtube video on manifestation motivation or binge watching a loa tiktok account but I found fairly early on that by doing so too often I started to get weighed down by it all to the point where my manifestation was the only thing on my mind. Of course it’s okay to think about your desire but I was doing so obsessively and trying to force movement in the 3d; when no movement occurred I’d just feel shit in myself but for whatever reason I found that by limiting the amount of loa content I engaged in, the less pressure I’d put on my myself and the more movement began to flow with ease into my reality 💗

Only do techniques, repeat affirmations, etc. when you want to, don’t force it and make it a chore, it’s supposed to be fun and easy!!

This one speaks for itself but I remember a month or two ago when I would overuse techniques and read over all my sets of affirmations so much to the point where I’d start putting it off and forcing myself to do them. If you want to take a few days off from techniques and such that’s absolutely okay! As I’ve already said, it should be fun and I found that forcing myself to do something definitely took all the positive emotion out of the process 💗

Find what feels most natural to you and stick with that.

Again, you want to avoid turning something that should be effortless and enjoyable into an inconvenience, and with so many people sharing their opinions on what they find works the best for them, it can be a little bit overwhelming. Make up your own techniques if that’s what works best for you, have fun with it 💗

You don’t have to listen to everything manifestation coaches and content creators say.

There’s a certain tiktok account (who I’ll refrain from naming and shaming for now) who claims that you can’t be in contact with your sp whilst manifesting them and other limiting shit like that… I won’t even comment on that one but just know that if you are in contact with your sp (as I have been for months now) it’s not stunting your progress and can definitely be viewed as a positive 💗

It’s called the law of assumption for a reason. The clue’s in the name; anything you decide will bring your desire to you WILL bring your desire to you so don’t get weighed down by all the limiting beliefs that are often thrown around and decide what works for you to apply to your own manifesting process 💗

Avoiding putting too much pressure on yourself.

Any circumstance can change overnight. Our realities are ever changing, nothing is permanent. Be gentle with yourself if you’re having an off day. Allow yourself breaks and remember that this process is as much about you and looking after yourself as it is getting your desire. What’s the point in achieving your manifestation if you felt like shit the entire time you were doing so? Protect your energy 💗

Divider credit: @firefly-graphics

#law of assumption #loa #specific person #sp law of assumption #sp loa #loa sp #law of assumption sp #manifestation #sp manifestation #manifesting sp #manifesting love #manifesting wealth #self love #self care

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beetsandskzreads · 2 years

Text

a guide to finding your chan

bang chan x gn! reader

fluffy fluff, somewhat crack-ish

warnings: mention of a single curse word, and nothing else except this is somewhat cheesy lmao

"okay guys grab a drink or a snack if you need it, we're just gonna review this quickly so as you can go home, have dinner and get comfy in bed, i'm looking at you chan, don't you dare stay up late working, today was a really packed day and tomorrow won't be much lighter either, so you get some rest." you said in the most caring voice you could boss them around in.

you were working with skz as their media manager for about two years now. you usually hang around them for concerts and events to take photos and post about them, help them organize their vlive events, plan games and activities for them, sometimes giving suggestions for other videos and media content they might make and sometimes they would ask for advice for what to post on social media, mostly trying to help them understand what stay would like or not (but usually you just tell them to post almost everything because stays are always thirsty, therefore appreciate everything)

two years had gone by in a flash yet you made so many connections with them, everyone felt basically like family, even though you didn't spend a lot of time around, it felt like you were always there to share their big achievements, so you helped them celebrate everything and also guided them a little bit along the way.

right now you were all reading comments from a live they had made, you sometimes do these kinds of things with them because they like to keep up with what's exciting stays, what they think it's funny and their opinions, to inspire them for their next interactions.

"han jisung should never be allowed to cut his hair ever again" minho reads out

"i guess i can keep it this long for a while but i'm not gonna let it grow much more, long hair is too much work" jisung responds as he started messing with hyunjins hair

"stay single 'till you find your own chan" felix keeps reading the comments

"true shit, I need to find me a chan" you say mindlessly, after all, anyone could agree chan is boyfriend material (heck, husband material even), so you totally weren't saying that because you have feelings for him, no (yes), it's just a common knowledge thing around here.

"what do you mean you need to find a chan? I'm your chan" chan turns to you and announces, in a somewhat pouty voice. you start blushing furiously.

you and chan had... let's say a fling(?) going on. you guys had gotten really close over the past year, and even more so the last two months,.,., things were getting to the point where it was physically hard for you not to kiss him, like there was a magnet pulling you to him, but you kept resisting it because you hadn't talked about your relationship.

since you've never spoken like you were a couple before, chan pulling that sentence in a room where anyone could hear made you freeze for a second. you couldn't talk about this right here!! ...then again you kind of pushed it saying what you did before... what were you supposed to do now tho??? flirt back?? play it cool?? does he mean it?? is he flirting jokingly or seriously? what reaction is he expecting from you in front of them?

"why would you get another chan? I thought I was your chan :(" he insisted in a lower voice since he was now closer to you.

"ooh honey you are my chan, you're right, I don't need any other chan" you say solfty, messing with his hair for a bit as you would to a kid, trying, and I repeat, TRYING to play it cool.

after this, thirty minutes go by as you keep reading the comments from the live, trying to contain your heavy blushing since chan curled up to your side after your interaction, until you decide to finish up and everyone starts to gather their things to leave. everyone but chan.

he stood by and when he felt a little more privacy in the room, he spoke up.

"hey umm... y/n?"

"yeah?" you could feel the barely gone blush coming back to your cheeks again already.

"this might be a weird way to put it but... I meant what I said back there. about 'being your chan', I mean. I'd really like us to be something more... I've been thinking about it for a while and I was wondering how you feel about it. or rather... how do you feel about me?" he asks somewhat hesitantly.

---I think you know it by now, reader, you're blushing uncontrollably---

"I- I think I only said I 'needed my own chan' because I really like you and... you know, a part of me isn't sure if I could, like, have you" you mutter the last two words.

"but what if you could, tho, have me?" he comes closer. even though he's also visibly blushing, he has a good feeling about where this is going.

you look up to him, feeling shy as ever, not wanting to say something corny and yet having no idea how to put it in words.

as you come across the hopeful look in his eyes, you feel yourself relaxing under the comfort they bring you.

"if I could have you, then I would claim you" you find the courage within to take a step closer to him, looking up into his eyes.

"claim me, then" he says in the softest way someone ever could, looking down at you clearly wanting you to-, feeling you wanting to kiss him.

and so you do.

a soft kiss developing for a couple minutes until you separate to look at each other.

"hyung!! are you coming?" jisung asked, coming into the room that had emptied out while you two flirted in a quiet corner. as he stands at the door, looking at how close you two are standing, his facial expressions shift as he hits the realization "oh- you know what? take your time" and just like that, he's out the room.

you and chan giggle together reacting to jisungs silly ways.

"sooo I guess you have to go?" you ask

"I-umm-yeah-I should probably go."

he doesn't leave.

he just stands there looking at you like there's something oh-so-interesting in your face he needs to keep looking at.

"ummm, chan?"

"yeah?"

"are you going or... ? is there something else you'd like to say?"

"oh- right. ummm I-uh... I really like you. a lot." he says, containing his smile from stretching even more "just... felt weird leaving after we just-you know. I kind of wished I could stay a bit more"

"ohh I see, I really like you too, channie." you kiss his cheek "but you need to go home and get some rest, they're waiting for you. and, you know, I guess you're my chan now so we'll have plenty of time"

"okay. yeah, you're right." oh how you love to see him like this, read ears, big smile, dimples showing... "your chan is going home now, then"

"okay" you smile

...

"can I get another kiss tho?" he asks, still in the same spot as before

"chan!!" you complain, laughing at how dorky he is

[of course you kiss him again]

#bang chan fluff #bang chan imagine #bang chan oneshot #bang chan scenarios #skz fluff #chan fluff #stray kids fluff #stray kids oneshot #chan imagines #chan x reader #bang chan x reader

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lexa-griffins · 10 months

Note

Clarke is the stereotypical bad girl in school while Lexa is the over achieving nerd. Clarke's parents hire Lexa to be her tutor so Clarke can pass her classes and finally graduate this year

Lexa is so frustrated at Clarke because she never pays attention during her tutoring sessions. She's too distracted and can never focus.

Although her classmates may think Lexa is an angel, she's actually very kinky and slutty. Lexa decides to use sex to incentivize Clarke to study

It actually works

Lexa isn't the biggest believer in seeing the best in people. Why should she find excuses for people who want to show nothing more than their worst selves?

That's exactly what she feels like with Clarke. She is not tutoring her out of the goodness of her heart or because she believes deep down Clarke is a good soul with a brave heart. No. Clarke is a wannabe bad girl who does little more than smoke behind the school, skips classes like she isn't two years behind, and pretends like the world is all about what she wants. All Lexa is here for is the Griffin's paycheck, who seem to hold to the strong belief that their daughter will be able to graduate anytime in the next decade, and while Lexa would disagree, she needs to show up every weekend while they are away on some business trip to tutor their very uninterested daughter in a room that reeks of weed.

And right now, as Lexa tries to explain to her once again the themes of the novel they were assigned, she teuly fails to see any good in Clarke. She's sighing with boredom, making sly comments about everything Lexa tells her, Lexa can tell their belief is oh so very misplaced.

"Clarke, did you hear what I just said?"

Clarke is spaced out, staring somewhere in Lexa's direction but clearly not looking at her.

"Hm? Oh, no."

Lexa closes her eyes for a second, trying not to pop the vein her head at repeating herself for the fourth time. As she starts to repeat herself, focusing on Clarke's face, she realizes where her attention lies.

"Are you staring at my tits?"

Without a drop of shame, Clarke smirks, "Yup. They are much more interesting than whatever it is you are talking about. Did you know they jiggle slightly when you shake your leg in anger at me?"

Immediately, Lexa freezes the leg she's been bouncing nonstop in anger for a good half an hour now.

"You are so gross."

"And you are entirely too hot to be this fucking boring."

Lexa shots up from where she's sitting, putting distance between herself and Clarke, "Urgh. You are just- fucking impossible."

"Well, I dont give a single shit about any of this. Never have. And I doubt you'll change my opinion on it."

Lexa bites her lip as she tries to contain her anger. She can not afford to lose this gig. If the Griffin's realize Clarke is making no improvements they'll try and find someone better and she cant fucking afford to that. They pay too well for such a simple job.

As Clarke lies in bed, unbothered by the red in Lexa's face or the silence in the room, Lexa's mind finds what might be a risky, but perfect solution for her troubles.

She steps towards the bed without hesitation, throwing her legs around Clarke's waist and sitting on her lap with confidence. She bites back a smile as she watches Clarke’s eyes grow bigger at the sudden boldness of the move, her mouth opened in shock.

She tries to rouch Lexa's hips but Lexa quickly slaps them away.

"How about this? I ride you and if you get the answers right I'll let you cum." Lexa states nonchalantly, pretending the thought of it doesn't excite her, pretending the sudden hardness she feels againt her crotch from Clarke's own pants doesn't make her shiver.

Clarke smirks at the thought, hand once again trying to find Lexa's skin, "Damn Woods, I never thought you-"

Lexa pushes the hand away, more aggressively this time around, "I need this fucking job and for me to keep it you need to learn. If this will make you at least pay attention, Im willing to do it. But dont think Im doing it because I've been secretly dreaming of fucking you."

"Maybe not me, but I think you've been dreaming of something like this for a while now."

Lexa feels her breathing shake when Clarke's hand touches her thigh, "I have not."

"Oh, c'mon Lexa. I'm not as stupid as i may seem. No one jumps into the riding a dick train just to keep a side gig."

"Fine. I get to ride dick and keep my job. Seems like a good deal to me, happy?"

"And what exactly do I get from this?"

Lexa is feeling herself getting wetter by the minute and Clarke's parents should be home in about an hour. She really doesnt have time for Clarke's stupid games.

"Good grades, a quick fuck and your parents off your ass?

Clarke seems to think about this for a second before making a face, "Doesn't seem like enough of a motivator."

Fuck this girl. Lexa finds herself slowly grinding on Clarke's clothed boner, somwthing the girl underneathher seems unbothered by, "what more could you possibly want Clarke?"

She wastes no time in geabbing a handful of Lexa's ass and squeezing it through her jeans, "If i pass the class I get to fuck your ass."

Lexa stops her movements, scrunching her face at the suggestion, pretending the idea didn't just get her wetter, "You are un fucking believable. Fuck that, forget I even suggested it, good luck finding someone else to tutor you!" Lexa exclaims as she moves away from Clarke with difficulty, her core wanting nothing more than to continue her grinding.

A hand grabbing her arm stops her, "Hey! Okay, okay. Forget that." Clarke pulls her in top of her once again and this time their faces are inches apart, "i accept the deal."

Lexa nods solemnly. She reaches her notebook and opens it next to them. She makes quick work of both of their pants, faking complete calmness when Clarke's boner jumps out and nearly hits her face, sliding the condom around Clarke's dick with expertise. Shes dripping at this point and she lowers herself onto Clarke's dick with ease. There is a smirk on her face when she sees the bliss in Clarke's face by being buried inside of her.

Lexa starts moving, slowly, back and forth. "Clarke?"

"Y-yeah?"

"What are the main themes of the novel"

"What?"

Lexa stops her movements completely, earning her a desperate groan from Clarke. "What are the main themes of the novel? There are three."

"Hm..."

"Id you get them right, I'll ride you faster. If not, I'll continue the slow pace"

Immediately, Lexa sees the wheels turn inside Clarke's brain "Death hm.... Famine and Family?

It seems she found a way to get to Clarke. She moves faster without warning and almost immediately Clarke moans, glad to have gotten it right.

They continue the game until Clarke manages to answer as many questions as Lexa is comfortable asking before she herself finds the urge to cum is too much.

As Clarke answers the final question, Lexa rides her hard and fast, letting control go out the window, allowing Clarle to grip her ass and gride her dick deeper inside, cumming deep inside Lexa.

"Fuck." Clarke chuckles as she comes down from her high, "thats ine way to learn useless shit."

"I accept your condition."

"My condition?"

"If you pass I'll let you fuck my ass. But. You need to get an A, not just pass. I dont work with under achievers. "

Clarke smiles genuinely this time and Lexa feels her heart skip a beat at the warmth in her face. Its gone the moment Clarke's smile turns into a smirk, "That good?"

"You are so gross."

The sessions repeat, twice a week. The results are clear as day with each quiz, Clarke's parents impressed at the improvement, so much so they start paying for more lessons, payment Lexa takes gladly.

And with each excellent new mark, the closer they get to the payment of their agreement, with Clarke so mucj as biting Lexa's ass as she gets dressed, a whispered "you're nearly mine" that makes Lexa roll her eyes and pretend the bite didn't set something off in her.

Lexa is really hopes Clarke gets that A.

#letter opened #majblue3907 #wanheda's dagger #so many words and theres no that much smut 🤣#clarke should be 19 and Lexa 18!

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thekingofwinterblog · 5 months

Note

Thoughts on those "the downfall of One Piece" videos by that Drizzt guy? He seems to really like Brandon Sanderson, and with you quiting the same author, I thought it may be interesting to contrast views that seem to be so different in regards to the quality of post time skip One Piece

I watched drizzt's take once yeah... Im not doing it again, so i'll try to give my thoughts on his from parts i distinctly remember.

Well to start off with, my opinion on One Piece isn't entierly positive. I too regard it as a series well past it's prime and highpoint... I just dont regard what came after that highpoint as bad(with exception of one arc). It's a series that is good, but is dragged down by the fact that no matter hoe much it tries, it can never recapture the glorious highpoint that was water 7/enies lobby.

By contrast Drizzt regards One Piece post timeskip more in the vein of Naruto. A series with a very clear, and obvious point where it fell off a cliff, broke it's back, and had to crawl across rocky, muddy, marshy terrain towards the finishline.

So lets start with the shit i kinda agree with him. The Strawhat's dreams are for the most part the most underutilized part of one piece by a wide margin.

Ironicqlly, the two dreams i completely disagree woth being used badly are the ones he bitched the most about, namely Luffy and Zoro. Luffy and Zoro's dreams are different than the rest, in that they don't actually have to achieve anything in between. Beat mihawk, and find One Piece. That's it.

The fact that they just travel on their journey, getting stronger along the way is not really a problem.

He compares luffy negatively to luffy, but the reality is that both of them came into the political climate under very different circumstances.

Roger had to actually do it, he was the trailblazer, the one who proved that it could be done... Evsryone else that followed him, luffy included, all had to repeat his feats to reacht he top. It was from the scramble for that goal that the Yonko system came to be, with 4 pirate superpowers who simply did it better than all the rest... but none of them had the power to sweep the rest away.

And its into this system that luffy came in, and in the end toppled, setting the stage for the endgame.

Otger than luffy and zoro though, none of the crews dreams are used in a particularily good way.

Nami wants to map all the world... We never really see any focus on her map making, and later learn there are over 10 million islands on this planet... Good luck with that.

Sanji wants to find the All Blue... I genuinely dont think it's even been mentioned in any real capacity since all blue.

Usopp wants to be a brave warrior of the sea and meet his dad again... Wrll while the latter seems likely to happen very soon, if usopp hasnt done it by now, he will probably remain a man ruled by fear for the rest of his life.

Chopper wants to create cures to any disease in the world... Sorta used in an interesting way by contrasting him with caesar and Queen... But notice he didnt actually go on to fight and defeat either of them.

Robins dream is at least in the same way as Luffy's and zoro's in that there is a logical endpoint, but unlike theirs we really could have gotten way more insights into the past before through poneglyphs discovered in the story, rather than all the lore being dropped all at once. Oda really was way too focused on the ancienct weapons to realise that the poneglyphs could have been used to give us haunting snippets of character momenys, and pictures of lore from a dying age, that brought about the world government, that would all have fit together at the end.

To illustrate this point, we dont actually know the tone or the content of Joy's apology to the Mermaid princess.

Was it a harrowing apology for his own weakness? A nochelant eh, sorry things didnt work out? A We sure gave it our all huh... And yet it didnt change anything.

The fact is, we dont know. And that illustrates what a missed opportunity the poneglyphs actually were. There was so much room to use them beyond info on the ancienct weapons.

Franky's dream is also a missed opportunity, because we are never really given focus or attention on him fixing the ship or upgrading it.

Brooks is bizarre, because he could have achieved his dream at any point during the timeskip, and just... didnt.

And finally i dont remember what Jinbe's dream actually is... Which is a bad sign in its own way.

As for his other conplaints... I don't actually recall them much. It's been a while.

My own thoughts on one Piece post timeskip is that the problems boil down to a number of key issues.

1. Way too many new characters in each arc.

2. The age old One piece problem of Oda almost never killing characters no matter what means almost nobody gets to exit this story on a highnote, and when Characters do die, it usually feels more like an afterthought, rather than a defining moment(Pretty much everyone of luffy's allies who died in wano feels like this). Combine with point 1, and you get stupidly large casts that almost never get trimmed down, meaning every single arc is full of characters who almost always devolve into greek choruses in some form by the end.

3. One piece has completely changed it's fight structures, so fights where we get to see the action from beginning to end are much rarer, rather than the norm. There is a reason most of the strawhats post timeskip only has 1 or 2 good fights each under their belt(if that), when before every single one of them(except brook) had plenty of vool fights and moments. The new structure where we usually only get to see snippets of fights rather than the entire thing mrans oda can put in way more stuff alongside them, but it also means the fights themselves are usually lackluster.

4. several characters have become worse in one or several ways, and the narrative doesnt really avknowledge this. The biggest, by far, is Sanji, who not only is a worse character in every regard, but every single genuine development he got is undermined and undone. He gets a girl who genuinely loves him in the form of pudding. He hits a woman because of the german upgrqdes and decides to abandon them completely, only for his powers to sorta still be there maybe, but in the end he didnt actually hit the girl, it was an invisible queen. I cpuld go on, but oda had some many chances to shake up Sanji's character after the timeakip, and he backtracked on all of them.

5. Haki got fucking insane in wano. Oda made a gigantic mistake early in wano's arc, where Kaido took out Luffy in one blow. It was a cool moment, but it also meant that haki's ability to let fighters stay on their feet and recover from total beatdowns in record time had to baloon to insane degrees. And lo and behold, that is exactly what happened. Which sucks even more, because the qctual explanation about how luffy had to improve to reqch thw kind of offensive that roger, whitebeard, big mom kaido and shanks have and had was actually pretty cool and set up way before this. But unfortunately that's also introduced in the arc where luffy gets up again and again after kaido beat him unconcious, with no other explanation than Haki baby! It sucks any tension out of any fight when you know haki can allow people to just get back on their feet no matter how gravely theyre wounded.

6. Gear five having no actual foreshadowing/being a zoan.

Oda wrote himself into a corner with the biggest reveal one piece ever had... And there was only 2 ways to handle it to make it truly work.

Either go all in on foreshadowing this shit, and have characters point out that luffy losing his rubber body against sea stone when he doesnt when underwater is kinda wierd(which makes sense for a zoan, but not a always transformed parmecia), and judt highlight that there is a mystery here... So that when the reveal comes it all falls into place.

Or, and this is the solution i would have gone with, have luffy awaken and have all the powers of Nika luffy, just withouth a transformation. Id have accepted the cartoon logic becoming part of the world around him as the awakened powers of a rubber devil fruit no problem... It was adding in, oh he's actually a myyhical zoan devil fruit intrical to the world's history where oda lost me.

There are other flaws too, but these are the main repeating ones, you'll find all over the story after impel down.

Overall though, O would say One piece is a good story that suceeds in spite of its flaws... But those flaws very much means that it isnt a perfect story, and after the timeskip, it has never come close to reaching the high watermark again, and thats very the big problem. When you have reached the top, there is nowhere to go but down.

Arguably one piece biggest achievement post timeskip is arguably the fact that in spite of this, it has only had one bad arc, with the rest being good, to great if never outstanding.

The only bad arc of course being dressrosa. I could make an entire retrospective about all the ways that one dropped the ball.

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retphienix · 5 months

Text

Anyways, since I'm rambling payday 3, some thoughts.

Does anyone else feel like Payday 3, in terms of replay value, is EXACTLY the game people who don't understand Payday 2 think Payday 2 was?

Because I remember the naive opinions I heard when Rock city or whatever came out from youtubers who never played Payday.

I remember hearing repeatedly "The game is repetitious, but I guess Payday fans who replay the same missions over and over and over again won't mind" because these dolts don't understand the randomization / pre-planning / alternate conditions etc that added together to give Payday 2 INSANE replay value on nearly every heist BEFORE you consider the decade of content shoved into that game or the plethora of ways you could build your character to play.

Anyways, playing a good amount of Payday 3 feels like playing the "assumption" version of Payday 2 those youtubers spoke into existence.

There's nothing meaningful that changes on repeat plays- and this feels minorly exasperated by the fact you can't get new seeds unless you quit to the main menu entirely. And majorly exasperated by how gutted pre-planning is with all the insane combinations and alternative heist experiences of Payday 2's system cut to shreds and replaced with.... do you want a shitty alternative entrance? How about a keycard? What about a dumpster to loot into? Pick ONE.

Funny fact on that- why the FUCK can a solo player only pick one? You SHREDDED fucking pre-planning to the most soulless shitty thing it could possibly be- and then punished solo players with the new system too???? why??? Fuck off

Also god fucking damn it do I miss multi-day heists.

Pre-release I said I wanted more "small scale" heists like 4 stores and I was not gifted a single interesting mission like that one (Give me my silly shoplifting missions!!)

And I said I wanted them to further explore multi-day heists that divert based on your actions- like fucking up the election heist and having to "fake" a bank robbery- that's an entire heist track a ton of people never experienced!!!!!!! THAT FORMULA RULES!!!!

WHERE IS IT~!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

There are a ton of problems with this fucking game, there really are.

Progression is shit on MULTIPLE levels

Weapon xp is tied to mission objectives and not anything to do with using the weapon???

XP is 90% weighted towards challenges which are not interesting in the slightest- with highlights like "Do each heist 150 times, kill 1000 enemies with every weapon, and slide 5000 meters (all 3 of these are real and for every weapon and heist btw)" WHERE IS THE CREATIVITY OF THE PAYDAY 2 ACHIEVEMENTS??>????

IF YOU WANT TO UNLOCK ALL THE SKILLS TO ACTUALLY MAKE A FUCKING BUILD YOU WILL SPEND YOUR FIRST 50 INFAMY LEVELS JUST RUNNING A SKILL POINT IN EVERY SKILL TREE- MEANING YOU WILL HAVE NO BUILD AND NO IDENTITY BECAUSE YOU'RE JUST TRYING TO GET XP FILLED OUT SO YOU HAVE ACCESS TO THE ENTIRE LIST OF SKILLS. WTF IS THAT STUPID NONSENSE.

Also, the feedback loop of this game is non-existent. You do things over here to get progress over there, you play your heart out and get pennies, you fumble with your belt buckle and level up 9 times and unlock 50 challenges. The game has like no weight to what you're doing and "trying" to progress feels... bad!

Like, you figure it out, sure, but the feedback of "do thing get reward" is just fucking JANK!! The fact the fastest way to level weapons is to speedrun heists ASAP because objectives > everything else is ????? what????

The fastest way to level up your infamy is to camp in a corner spamming deployables and kill grinding???? what????? Not weapon xp???

Hell, what else. C-stacks are bugged to fuck in the most mind-boggling way- the way in question is that they Don't List The Correct Price for some fucking reason.

$1,800,000 for 10 C-stacks is actually $2,700,000. Why? Because managing a simple table of data is really hard :(

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH

Cosmetics are fucking dog shit across the board- the first paid DLC has some cool stuff coming that was sourced from amazing fan-artists who have been commissioned to help (what a surprise! The talent is coming from OUR side of the table!)

Builds in 3 can be fun! But are not in any way interesting. Like, that's maybe the worst part of it. You can make something "fun" but it's also just.... soulless more often than not. A shotgun build. A throw build. A rifle headshot build. A hipfire build.

The MOST interesting builds are just "I refresh my throwables so I throw a bunch of grenades" and "I use grit and edge to become stagger immune and then hold a hostage".

And again, those can be fun, but man do the list of "interesting" options feel.... nada.

They cowered away from the wacky stuff in 2 and it "works" but where is the new identity? Where's the new "payday"?

I'm being bitchy but look at this rant, I have things to bitch over and plenty more than what comes to mind here.

And all that comes to make the game mid! Just! Mid!

I WANT it to be great as fuck and I don't know if it can when the foundation is so... this! Add pre-planning, expand heist variety IN THEMSELVES (ONE HEIST DOING MORE THINGS ON DIFFERENT RUNS), Multi-days, skills, fucking anything man just give this damn game a chance but hey

that's the operative word ain't it.

There's a chance it's great in a bit of time.

I hope so.

At least Payday 2 is right there still.

#payday 3 #retplays

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