#I don’t really engage with media in a way that makes me part of a fandom ever
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I’m feeling very uninspired by my ocs rn so I’m reverting to my steven universe phase lol
#if you’ve ever played gemventure on Roblox and gotten beat up by a pear named plankton that was me sorrrryyy#alternatively if you ever played gemventure and beat up a pearl named plankton I don’t wanna talk about it#I used to do CRAZY steven universe fan art in middle and early high school kind of miss it tbh#I do really miss just the sense of being in a fandom#I don’t really engage with media in a way that makes me part of a fandom ever#I’m too wishy washy now… like I jump in and out of fixations so quickly I haven’t had a one that’s lasted >2 weeks in SO LONG </3#ergo anyone who may find me because of this art: don’t get used to fan art I hardly do it lol#my art#steven universe#digital art#procreate#artists on tumblr#digital illustration#illustration#original art#doodle#art#drawing#fan art#steven universe fanart#Opal#steven universe Opal#su#digital doodle#digital artist#Opal steven universe#digital drawing#artwork
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#extricating the joy of writing from the joy of it being seen and appreciated via comments/kudos is hard#ITS HARD#I want to finish these bmf fics cause I had big plans and honestly I don’t think it would take too much work but#there’s a part of my brain that is shouting that the effort isn’t worth it and people won’t want to read it#but that’s !!! not!!!! the point#I also feel like I just keep falling into BLs as ways to cope and when the issue/stressor passes I can’t bring myself to stick around#like there’s just a void where the excitement used to be and it makes me really sad#I want to figure out how to break that I don’t want watching media and making art to be a crutch for everything else sucking#I want to love it and engage with it on its own terms—on my own terms—purely for the joy of it and what it brings to me#arghhhh
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the thing about watching shows for one specific character is that your attention span for everything else has to be good enough you don’t miss crucial char context for your fave and their arc but also not waste too much attention on other things that are unimportant to you. it’s a learned skill.
#you can’t just skip anything that doesn’t have them on screen but.. I think it’s alright if I skim bits of the show that are just men#fighting I don’t like action scenes sorry they make me sleepy#s speaks#s watches merlin#I have a higher tolerance for action scenes when reading which ik is ironic (and still far from my fav there) but in visual media action#scenes where women aren’t present. yaaawn.#shout out to Tamsyn Muir for keeping me engaged in the tlt action scenes. that really proves how good she is#magical fights scenes are more interesting to me than normal ones but a) I still find the way this show does magic visually boring for the#most part b) because of the structure of Merlin’s magic being secret there’s obviously not a lot of room for that#although I think as Merlin v Morgana becomes more centralized like I think it’s going to be that will result in scenes that are more#interesting/impactful to me fingers crossed
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Santa Baby
pairing: pedro pascal x f! popstar girlfriend
The stage was bathed in warm, festive light as snowflakes made of glitter descended from the rafters. The audience buzzed with excitement, eagerly awaiting the star of the night. Y/N’s highly anticipated Christmas special was live, showcasing her new holiday album. Fans worldwide tuned in to witness her performance, and among them was her proudest supporter her boyfriend-turned-fiancé, Pedro Pascal, seated in the front row.
Y/N’s voice soared through classic carols and original songs, each note wrapping the room in holiday magic. Dressed in a red velvet gown that shimmered under the lights, she was the picture of festive elegance. Her diamond necklace sparkled with every turn, but her smile was the true showstopper. Pedro leaned forward in his seat, utterly entranced, his warm brown eyes never leaving her.
Then came the moment that would be talked about for weeks. The band struck up the jazzy, slinky notes of Santa Baby, and the audience erupted into cheers. The curtains parted to reveal Y/N in a dazzling new outfit: a fitted red velvet bodice trimmed with soft white fur, paired with thigh-high boots and a sparkling Santa hat. She strutted across the stage, microphone in hand, her playful grin promising something extraordinary.
Pedro chuckled as she made eye contact with him, her flirty energy aimed directly his way. He shook his head, already knowing she was about to steal the show.
Her sultry voice filled the air:
Santa baby, slip a sable under the tree, for me…
The crowd swayed along, their energy building with every lyric. Y/N’s performance was captivating, her charm impossible to resist. Pedro’s grin grew wider as she playfully gestured toward him during the bridge:
Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight.
The audience roared with laughter and applause at her antics. Pedro, his face beaming with pride, clapped along, his eyes shining with admiration. But then, the atmosphere shifted as she reached the iconic line:
Santa baby, forgot to mention one little thing a ring…
Y/N paused dramatically, her voice trailing off as she raised her left hand. The spotlight caught it, making the enormous diamond engagement ring glitter like the North Star. Gasps and cheers erupted from the crowd, and Pedro froze, caught completely off guard. For a moment, he looked stunned, but then his face broke into the most radiant smile, his eyes glassy with emotion.
The cameras panned to him, capturing his reaction as he stood, clapping and laughing, his expression one of pure love and pride. Y/N flashed him a cheeky grin, finishing the line with a twist:
…and I don’t mean on the phone!
The theater exploded with applause. Y/N gave a playful twirl, blowing Pedro a kiss and mouthing, I love you. He returned it with a blown kiss of his own, shaking his head as if to say, You’re unbelievable.
By the time Y/N finished her set, the news had already gone viral. Social media lit up with clips of the performance, fans gushing over her flawless vocals and Pedro’s swooning reaction. Headlines blared:
“Pop Star Y/N Drops Engagement Bombshell During Christmas Special!”
“Pedro Pascal and Y/N Are Officially Engaged And It’s the Holiday Surprise We Didn’t Know We Needed!”
The next morning, Pedro sat on the couch, scrolling through endless memes of his smitten expression. Y/N curled up beside him under a cozy blanket, her engagement ring catching the morning light.
“You really couldn’t wait to tell the world, huh?” he teased, showing her a tweet comparing him to a love-struck Hallmark movie character.
“What can I say?” she replied with a smirk. “I like making a statement.”
He leaned down, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Good. I want everyone to know I’m the luckiest man alive.”
Her smile softened as she laced her fingers with his. “Merry Christmas, Pedro.”
“Merry Christmas, future Mrs. Pascal.”
That evening, as the snow continued to drift softly outside, they decided to celebrate their engagement with a romantic soak in the outdoor hot tub. The steam swirled into the crisp winter air, and the glow of the nearby fire pit illuminated the space, casting flickering shadows over the snow-covered patio.
Y/N stepped out onto the deck, wrapped in a plush robe, her cheeks rosy from the cold. Pedro was already in the tub, leaning back against the edge with his arms sprawled out, the muscles of his chest glistening from the rising steam. His dark eyes fixed on her with a heat that rivaled the bubbling water.
“Come on in, future Mrs. Pascal,” he teased, his voice low and inviting.
Y/N smirked, dropping the robe to reveal her figure in a deep red bikini that matched the festive mood of the weekend. Pedro’s breath hitched, his gaze dragging over her like she was the only thing in the world.
“You’re staring,” she said playfully as she descended into the water, the warmth enveloping her instantly.
“Can you blame me?” he replied, his voice rough as he pulled her closer the moment she settled in. “Look at you. You’re stunning.”
She slid onto his lap, her legs straddling his waist, and wrapped her arms around his neck. The contrast of the hot water and the cool winter air made her shiver slightly, but Pedro’s hands on her hips quickly warmed her up.
“You’re not so bad yourself, Pascal,” she murmured, trailing her fingers along his jawline.
Pedro chuckled, but it quickly turned into a groan when her lips brushed against his. The kiss started slow, a gentle exploration, but quickly deepened as the tension between them simmered into something hotter than the water surrounding them. His hands roamed her back, sliding lower as he held her firmly against him.
“You know,” he murmured against her lips, his voice thick with desire, “you completely ruined me last night with that performance.”
“Good,” she whispered, biting her lip as she looked at him. “I wanted to drive you crazy.”
“Mission accomplished,” he said, his grip tightening as he kissed her again, his lips moving down to her neck, trailing over her collarbone.
“Pedro,” she breathed, her voice a mix of a plea and a tease.
He pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his dark eyes blazing. “Say it again,” he murmured.
“Pedro,” she repeated, her hands framing his face as her lips brushed against his in the faintest of kisses.
“No,” he whispered, his smirk returning as his hands dipped into the water, pulling her closer. “The other thing. The thing I’ve been waiting to hear all day.”
She smiled, her heart thundering in her chest. “I love you, future husband.
Pedro’s laughter rumbled through the air before he captured her lips again, the kiss slow, sensual, and filled with the kind of love that made the world stand still. And as snowflakes melted on their heated skin, they knew this was the start of a holiday season they’d never forget.
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal is hot#joel miller#joelmiller x reader#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal character#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal imagine#pedroispunk#pedro x reader#pedro pascal fanfiction
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The fandom echo chamber: fanon, microanalysis and conspiracy brain
As someone who has been in fandom spaces, on and off, for 20 years, I find some fascinating trends popping up in the last decade that I thought to be fandom-specific but clearly aren’t. So, I would like to do a little examination of where those things come from, how they are engaged with, and what it says about the way we consume media. This is a think piece, of sorts, with my brain being the main source. As such, we will spend some time down the memory lane of a fandom-focused millennial.
This is largely brought about by Good Omens. But it’s also not really about Good Omens at all.
Part one. Fanon.
The way we see characters in any story is always skewed by our very selves. This is a neutral statement, and it does not have a value judgement. It’s simply unavoidable. We recognise aspects of them, love aspects of them, and choose aspects of them to highlight based entirely on our own vision of the universe.
Recognition comes into this. There is a reason so many protagonists of romance novels have a “blank slate” problem. Even when they do not, we love characters who are like us or versions of us that we would like to be. And when we say “we”, I also mean, “me”.
(I remember very clearly this realisation hit me after a whole season of Doctor Who with writing which I hated utterly when I questioned why I still clung so incredibly hard to Clara Oswald as my favourite companion. Then I looked at myself in the mirror. Oh. Well. That would do it, wouldn’t it?)
Then, there is projection, and, again, this is a neutral statement. Projection exists, and it is completely normal and, dare I say it, valid way of engaging with — well, anything. Is the character queer? Trans? Neurodivergent? Are they in love? Do they like chocolate? Are they a cat person? Well, yes, if this is what the text says, but if the text does not say anything… You tell me. Please, do tell me. Because, in that moment of projection, they are yours.
And then, there is fandom osmosis, and that is the most fascinating one of them all, the one that is not very easy to note while you are inside the echo chamber. It’s the way we collectively, consciously or not, make decisions on who or what the characters are, what their relationships are, and what happens to them.
(Back when I was writing egregiously long Guardian recaps on this blog I actually asked if Shen Wei’s power being learning actually was stated anywhere in the canon of the show. Because I had no idea. I have read and reread dozen of fanfics where that is the case, and at some point through enough repetition, it became reality.)
We are all kind of making our own reality here, aren’t we?
Back when things were happening in a much less centralised manner - in closed livejournal groups, and forums of all shapes and sizes - I don’t remember there being quite as much universally agreed upon fanon. Frankly, I don’t remember much of universally agreed upon anything. But now, everything is in one place: we have this, and we have AO3, and it’s wonderful, it really is so much easier to navigate, but it’s also one gigantic reality-shifting echo chamber, with blogs, reblogs, trends, and rituals.
Accessibility plays its part, too. If you were, say, in Life on Mars (UK) fandom between seasons, and you wanted to post your speculation fic, you had to have had an account, and then find and gain access to one of the bigger groups (lifein1973 was my poison, but ymmv), and then, if you feel brave you may post it, but also, you may want to do so from your alt account if you wanted to keep yours separate, and then you would have to go through the whole process again. And I’m not saying that fan creations then were somehow inherently better for it than fan creations now (although Life on Mars Hiatus Era is perhaps a bad example - because some of the Speculation Fic there was breathtaking), but there is something to say about the ease of access that made the fandoms go through a big bang of sorts.
(I mean, come on, I can just come here and post this - and I am certain people will read it, and this blog is a pandemic cope baby about Chinese television for goodness sake.)
The canon transformations that happen in the fandom echo chamber truly are fascinating to witness as someone who is more or less a fandom butterfly. I get into something, float around for a bit, then get into something else and move on. I might come back eventually when the need arises, but I don’t sustain a hiatus mind-state. This means that when I float away and return, I find some very intriguing stuff.
Let’s actually look at Good Omens here. Season two aired, and I found it spectacular in its cosy and anguished way; deliberately and intelligently fanfic-y in its plot building; simple but subversive, and so very tender. (I will have to circle back to this eventually, because, truly, I love how deliberately it takes the tropes and shatters them - it’s glorious). And, to me - a person who read the book, watched the first season, hung around AO3 for a few weeks and moved on - absolutely on-point in terms of characterisation.
So imagine my surprise when the fandom disagreed so vehemently that there are actual multi-tiered theories on how characters were not in possession of their senses. Nothing there, in my mind, ever contradicted any of the stated text, as it stood. This remained a strange little mystery until I did what I always do when I flutter close to an ongoing fandom.
I loaded AO3 and sorted the existing fic by popularity. And there it was, all there: the actual earth-shattering mutual devotion of the angel and the demon; willingness to Fall; openness and long heart-aching confession speeches. There was all of the fanon surrounding Aziraphale and Crowley, which, to me, read as out of character, and to one for whom they became the reality over the last four years, read as truth.
Again, only neutral statements here. This is not a bad thing, and neither this is a good thing, this is just something that happens, after a while, especially when there are years for the fandom-born ideas to bounce around and stew. I can’t help but think that so much of what we see as real in spaces such as this one is a chimaera of the actual source and all the collective fan additions which had time and space to grow, change, develop, and inspire, reverberating over and over again, until the echoes fill the entirety of the space.
Eventually, this chimaera becomes a reality.
Part two. Microanalysis
Here are my two suppositions on the matter:
1. Some writers really love breadcrumb storytelling.
Russel T Davies, for instance, on his run of Doctor Who (and, if you are reading it much later - I do mean the original one), loved that technique for his seasonal arcs. What is a Bad Wolf? Who is Harold Saxon? Well, you can watch very very carefully, make a theory, and see it proven right or wrong by the end of the season.
Naturally, mystery box writers are all about breadcrumb storytelling: your Losts and your Westworlds are all about giving you snippets to get your brain firing, almost challenging you to figure things out just ahead of the reveal.
2. We, as humans, love breadcrumbs.
And why wouldn’t we? Breadcrumbs are delicious. They are, however, a seasoning, or a coating. They are not the meal.
Too much metaphor?
Let’s unpack it and start from the beginning.
Pattern recognition colours every aspect of our lives, and it colours the way we view art to a great extent. I think we truly underestimate how much it’s influenced by our lived experiences.
If you are, broadly speaking, living somewhere in Western/North-Western Europe in the 14th century, and you see a painting in which there is a very very large figure surrounded by some smaller figures and holding really tiny figures, you may know absolutely nothing about who those figures are, but you know that the big figure is the Important One, and the small ones are Less Important Ones, and the tiny ones are In Their Care. You know where your reverence would lie, looking at this picture. And, I imagine, as someone living in the 14th century, you may be inspired to a sense of awe looking at this composition, because in the world you live in, this is how art works.
If you, on the other hand, watch a piece of recorded media and see the eyes of two characters meet as the violins swell, you know what you are being told at that moment. You don’t have to have a film degree to feel a sort of way when you see a green-tinged pallet used, when cross-cuts use juxtaposing images, or notice where your focus is pulled in any given shot. This stuff - this recognition of patterns - has been trained into us by the simple fact that we live in this time, on this planet, and we have been doing so long enough to have engaged recorded media for a period of time.
As humans, we notice things. Our brains flare up when they see something they recognise, and then we seek to find other similar details and form a bigger picture. This often happens unconsciously, but sometimes it does not. Sometimes we do it on purpose: finding breadcrumbs in stories is a little bit like solving a mystery. It allows us to stretch that brain muscle that puts two and two together. It makes us feel clever.
So yes, we love breadcrumbs, and, frankly, quite a lot of storytelling takes advantage of this. It’s very useful for foreshadowing, creating thematic coherence, or introducing narrative parallels and complexity. It’s useful for nudging the viewer into one or the other emotional direction, or to cue them into what will happen in the next moment, or what exactly is the one important detail they should pay attention to.
Because this is something media does intentionally, and something we pick up both consciously and not, it is very hard to know when to stop. We don't really ever know when all of the breadcrumbs have been collected. It becomes very easy to get carried away. There is a very specific kind of pleasure in digging into content frame by frame, soundbite by soundbite, chasing that pleasure of finding.
But it is almost never breadcrumbs all the way down. They are techniques to help us focus on the main event: the story. I truly believe those who make media want it to reach the widest possible audience, and that includes all of us who like to watch every single thing ever created with our Media Analysis Goggles on and those who are just here to enjoy the twists and turns of the story at the pace offered to them. And I think, sometimes in our chase to collect and understand every little clue we forget that media is not made to just cater for us.
One can call it missing a forest for the trees. But I would hate to mix my metaphors, so let’s call it missing a schnitzel for the breadcrumbs.
Part three. The Conspiracy Brain.
If you are there with me, in the midst of the excited frenzy, chasing after all those delicious breadcrumbs, then patterns can grow, merge together, and become all-encompassing theories. Let’s call them conspiracy theories, even though this is not what they truly are.
So, why do we believe in conspiracy theories?
One, Because We Have Been Lied To.
All conspiracies start with distrust.
If you are in fandom spaces - especially if you are in fandom spaces which revolve around a queer fictional couple - especially-especially if you have been in such spaces for a period of time, you have most certainly been lied to at one point or another.
We don’t even have to talk about Sherlock - and let’s not do that - but do you remember Merlin? Because I remember Merlin. Specifically, I remember the publicity surrounding the first season, with its weaponised usage of “bromance” and assertions that this whole thing is a love story of sorts, and then the daunting realisation that this was all a stunt, deliberately orchestrated to gather viewership.
And, because we were lied to in such a deliberate manner for such an extensive period of time, I genuinely believe that it forever altered our pattern recognition habits, because what was this if not encouragement to read into things? Now we are trained to read between the lines or see little cries for help where they might not be. Because we were told, over and over again, that we should.
(Yes, I think we are all existing in these spaces coloured by the trauma of queer-bating. I am, however, looking forward to a world where I can unlearn all of that.)
Two, Cognitive Dissonance.
The chain reaction works a bit like this: the world is wrong - it can’t possibly be wrong by coincidence - this must be on purpose - someone is responsible for it.
Being Lied To is a preamble, but cognitive dissonance is where it all originates. In so many cross-fandom theories I have noticed a four-step process:
A) this is not good
B) this author could not have made a mistake
C) this must be done on purpose
D) here is why
(Funny thing is, I have been on the receiving end of the small conspiracy spiral, and it is a very interesting experience. Not relevant to this conversation is the fact that a lot of my job revolves around storytelling. What is relevant is that my hobbies also revolve around storytelling. And one of them is DnD. Now, imagine my genuine shock when one of the players I am currently writing a campaign for noticed a small detail that did not make a logical sense within the complexity of the world, and latched on to it as something clearly indicating some kind of a secret subplot. Their thinking process also went a bit like this: this detail is not a good piece of writing — this DM knows how to tell stories well — this is obviously there on purpose. It was not there on purpose. I created a clumsy shorthand. I erred, in that pesky manner humans tend to. And, seeing this entire thought process recited to me directly in the moment, I felt somewhere between flattered and mortified.)
This whole line of thinking, I think, exists on a knife’s edge between veneration and brutal criticism, relentlessly dissecting everything “wrong”, with a reverent “but this is deliberate” attached to it like a vice, because it is preferable to a simple conclusion that the author let you down, in one way or another.
Three, Intentionality
I believe that there is no right or wrong way of engaging with stories, regardless of their medium, and assuming no one gets hurt in the process. While in a strictly academic way, there is a “correct” way of reading (and reading into) media, we here are largely not academics but consumers; consumption is subjective.
However, this all changes when intentionality is ascribed.
The one I find particularly fascinating is the intentionality of “making it bad on purpose” because, as open-minded as I intend to always be, this just does not happen.
It certainly does not happen in long-form media. Even in the bread-crumb mystery box-type long-form media.
When television programs underdeliver, they also underperform, and then they get cancelled.
If all the elements of Westworld Season 4 that did not sit together in a completely satisfactory way were written deliberately as some sort of deconstruction for the final season to explore, then it failed because that final season will now never come.
(There will likely never be a Secret Fourth Episode.)
And look, I am not here to refute your theories. Creativity is fun, and theorising is fantastic.
But, perhaps, when the line of thought ventures into the “bad on purpose” territory, it could be recognised for what it is: disappointment and optimism, attempting to coexist in a single space. And I relate to that, I do, and I am sorry that there is even a need for this line of thinking. It’s always so incredibly disappointing that a creator you believed to be devoid of flaws makes something that does not hit in the way you hoped it would. It’s pretty heartbreaking.
Unfortunately, people make mistakes. We are all fallible that way.
Four, Wildfire.
Then, when the crumbs are found, a theory is crafted, and intentionality is ascribed, all that needs to happen is for it to catch on. And hey, what better place for it than this massive hollow funnel that we exist in, where thoughts, ideas and interpretations reverberate so much they become inextricable from the source material in collective consciousness.
Conspiracy theories create alternate realities, very much like we all do here.
So where are we now?
I am not here to tell you what is right and what is wrong; what is true, and what is not. We are all entitled to engage with anything we wish, in whichever way we wish to do it. This is not it, at all.
All I am saying is… listen.
Do you hear that echo?
I do.
#fandom thoughts#fanon#good omens#good omens 2#bbc sherlock#merlin bbc#think piece#it's been years and I still have no idea how to tag#conspiracy theories#fandom content#all fandoms
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Kinknuary Day 10: Body Worship
Pairing: ITZY Yuna x Male Reader
Word Count: 4,197
[Kinknuary Masterlist]
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“God, you’re breaking the Internet, again, Yuna.” You present a flummoxed face (not really surprised, but you're still amazed) as you swipe left to view the pictures she's taken.
“Well, daddy—” Yuna scoffs, a sanguine look paints her face as she turns to face you, proving how she’s worthy of that goddamn title no one can take away from her, “—all of them know how eye-catching my body can be. Hah—all I know is that there's probably thousands and thousands of people drooling over my slender body.”
“And only I—” You pulled her immediately onto yours, inches away from your bodies touching as you gave her a mischievous smirk in which Yuna portrays shyness towards you as she probably knows where this will go, on your own accord, “—can get to see them everyday or whenever I want.”
“Daddy!” Yuna playfully retaliates with a light punch, in which you laugh because of her adorable remarks. “Don’t be so complacent. I still have schedules with the members and gladly, I got to see you despite my hectic schedule.”
She was genuine when she said this and you couldn’t help but blush because of it. You know how schedules can literally abort your plans with her and you ultimately understand it and you don’t really want to interfere with any of that because of the threat of being caught by the media’s eyes as you know how crazy their eavesdropping abilities are. You knew her side and yours, and the fact she showed up just to bond with you is beyond spectacular as you’re in awe with her willingness.
“Yuna, I really do appreciate your efforts, honestly…” You then kiss her forehead as you let her know how genuinely grateful you feel as those doe eyes stare at you endearingly, mirroring the affectionate atmosphere you’ve emanated earlier.
“All for you, daddy, ‘cause I know how much you love me and miss me…”
Yuna knows the picks to your locks and won’t definitely keep the gates closed to herself if she knows within a single touch, your whole world could collapse in shambles. Yes, within just a single action gets some fruit of labor: a kiss enamored with affection as both parties engage with utmost intimacy, fighting for dominance. Well, it’s not exactly dominance but the aggression on each other’s reciprocation is vocalized, and Yuna, as the girl she is, fully indulges onto the taste of your lips as if you're insanely insatiable��I mean, you are insanely irresistible at her end as both feelings are mutual.
Your hands gracefully course its way onto the back of her slender, hourglass waist and then the endgame, her plump buttcheeks, further emphasized with the skinny jeans she loves wearing—of course, she’ll make sure you’ll get some of your own private content, exclusively for your eyes to take a sight on only. As you deepen the kiss, Yuna hums in satisfaction as she waited for this for weeks and now, is extremely jovial as every second is cherished within heated pecks.
“You kiss me so good, daddy.”
“You’re a great kisser too, Yuna, and—” You lean back a little, composing yourself onto a sight that will sure make anyone in awe—taking some time to look at the sight of her perfectly-sculpted waist as you take yourself to admire how hot she is and how her outfit perfectly compliments her hourglass figure. “—gosh, you look incredibly hot and pretty in this outfit.”
No wonder why the Internet goes crazy over this girl, and gladly, you knew the answer way back then as you’re always thankful to see it with your very own eyes.
Yuna faces slightly against you as she tries to hide the rosy hue her cheeks have emanated but she doesn't even bother to conceal her true emotions, as you’re in awe of how weakly she’s taking your compliments. She rested her hands onto your shoulders as you couldn’t contain your emotions again and initiated another kiss but this time, you parted out of her mouth quickly enough to appreciate her other features by peppering it with needy kisses. You take your time to admire her smooth, porcelain skin and then latch your lips onto it, suckling onto her neck as she lets out an almost inaudible moan as your actions make her feel great.
“You know you can get rid of this stupid jacket, Yuna.”
“You’re right, da—ahh—daddy…” Yuna didn’t mind your affectionate peppering towards her neck to express her insatiability and your hunger towards her as she continues to slowly remove her pieces of clothing that’s refraining you from addressing your love for her further. You gave her ease by moving for her comfort as not so long after, she already removed her first layer of clothing as you smile from the sight of more skin is being exposed but Yuna knows it wasn’t enough, so she course her way onto undressing her crop top jacket and still, you continue peppering her with kisses yet this time, you add admiration to her sharp collar bones that she always liked.
“Y-You really missed k-kissing them, daddy?”
“Of course I do, baby.” With now just her black spaghetti-strapped top as the last line of defense, you ultimately succumbed onto your own primal desires as you worship every inch of her exposed skin, showing her how much you love them in series: her shoulders that you always love to see whenever she feels confident, her sharp collar bones that exudes class and sexiness in every way possible and there’s way more features to express your love on and it’s only inches away before your latch onto your treasured grand prizes.
“As much as I love this outfit on you, Yuna—it’s better on the floor because your body’s a better sight to see.”
“B-But—ahh, daddy! I k-know how much you’ll l-love them so, thank you—ahh, right there!”
Of course, just like any other person, Yuna reads your mind with outfits that showcase her curves and you know how much you’ll love them and she’s clever with that. Having enough of her neck and collarbones, you want to discover and worship more of her as you’re only getting started—and Yuna’s already moaning like crazy, considering how she’s always sensitive to the touch whenever she’s with you.
“Don’t you mind it if I do, Yuna?” Your fingers play the strap on her top, waiting for her green light if you can strip it out of her.
“I d-don’t mind it, daddy—my b-body is all yours—all fucking yours!”
Well, that’s more of a green light than what you expected but nonetheless, you did as what you told yourself to do—stripping that strap off of her body as gravity gracefully does its work and you finished the job yourself. She raised her arms for a better leverage on undressing that stupid clothing off and wow, you didn’t expect the sight that has been laid onto you now.
“Hm, getting really naughty and daring huh, Yuna?” Yes, your eyes would never lie to you nor give you delusional hallucinations as the sight of her fully-uncovered, perky breasts are now all over your sight with her taut buds begging for your touch and god, you just want to give in to your temptation. Well, there’s no one stopping you about your own animalistic urges as your fingers find its way onto her taut nipples, pinching it as you alternate it with fondling that makes Yuna moan in more need as greed clouds her mind, wanting you to do more.
“Well, I k-knew you’d l-like this so—ahh, daddy! Yes, I—god—ahh, I w-want to surprise you…”
And you’re definitely surprised yet the familiar tent is now coming down to your nether regions, poking onto the frustrating clothing that is holding them back. “And I’m damn surprised about this, Yuna but I love it—you know? Easier access…” And you just keep teasing her with your tongue and your lips latching onto her stiff buds and the constant fondling of her perky breasts as inevitably, Yuna cries as the sensitivity is peaking at its finest loves everything that’s happening, the further stimulation becoming the golden trophy she’s been longing for.
You continue sucking onto the smooth, spotless skin as you were deprived of her for years and the random nibbling of your tongue onto her nipples as the cherry on top and it never stopped, and so are Yuna’s symphonic moans.
“Do you know how perfect you are, Yuna? You are something no man can express ‘cause look at you—” Your hands sluggishly caress her midriff and then towards her perky mounds in which, she can’t help but irresistibly moan out how great she’s feeling and your touch does wonders all over her body. “—sculpted perfectly and built to be fucking used, huh, Yuna?”
If she’s arousing the living hell out of you as she aims to unleash the feral beast inside your soul, then might as well add some of the filthy talk to further lit up the flames of lust that has been building up. You know how horny and unstoppable Yuna can get, but you need to let her know how much you adore her and how perfect her body is. She’s getting riled up, you could tell from the writhing of her knees and thighs whenever you play with the smooth skin of her toned abdomen and that alone, puts a delighted smile on your face, knowing that she’s being turned on truly by your primally lustful actions. You continue to play, kiss and worship her body, like a goddess that’s insanely insatiable as every action you do releases such beautiful moans that orchestrate such a symphony that would dive in to listen to please and satisfy you even more.
“Let it out, Yuna—I know how much you love my tongue licking and mouth kissing all over this beautiful waist.”
Of course, Yuna won’t bother to articulate such a response if your mouth and your tongue is making her wild and crazy. You really can’t comprehend how insanely irresistible she can be and you like it—you could only know limitless possibilities to praise her body as every inch isn’t ignored, lathered with either your saliva or peppered with kisses by your mouth. Having enough and becoming satisfied on worshiping the flexing protrusion of her abdominals muscles of her waist, you averted your attentions towards her milky, smooth armpits and her sharp collar bones but Yuna wants the best for you, so, she interrupted you with a proposition, hoping for you to agree.
“D-Daddy, I know y-you can’t stop but I can lay d-down on the bed upstairs so you can be more comfortable.”
You wouldn’t turn down on that, because you wanted the maximum comfort between both parties so, without wasting any time, the both of you went upstairs to continue such an endearing yet lustful act of fervor and love.
---
“Daddy—right there! Ohh—fuck, you’re so good—hah, oh god…”
You totally succumb to your temptations, licking onto the succulent-looking, smooth armpits as you voice out your satisfaction through hums between kisses and licks. Of course, you never left those perky breasts hanging and being unattended, as your hands fondle it with care, and aims to stimulate Yuna further and as well as her stiff buds that’s her ultimate kryptonite—it always brings her down to her knees whenever you stimulate her with it and you marvel with her response to your own doing. You continue to lather her pits with your drool as you salivate on it, and then alternating it with some kisses on her collar bones to express your gratitude on this opportunity and how much you love them, for the umpteenth time.
“You must l-love my p-pits, hm, daddy—oh fuck, t-that’s good!”
“I love every inch of your body, Yuna, but these smooth pits are something else.” Even if you didn’t bother to answer, she knows what could be your response as you continue your masterclass by peppering her impeccable features to the point of no-return. You’ve been kissing and she’s moaning for like ten minutes straight and you know you can’t just stop on a note with just worshiping her—even though that alone is such an ethereal sight and a thing you would do for hours—but rather, want to feel her now as the growing lust that’s causing arson because of its raging fire inside you is more than evident, the familiar tent onto your crotch is now painfully sticking out and it’s not that long before Yuna notices it.
“Oh, daddy!” Her hands course its way onto your clothed crotch as you slightly moaned in response to her retaliating actions. She lightly squeezes the growing member on your pants as you can see her eyes lit up in anticipation as she’s longing for this for a long while now. “I want this—I want to feel this, daddy. I want it—I want it—I want it!”
Of course, Yuna will beg until her legs give out, just to get what she wants and she won’t stop until it’s further fulfilled. She deserves it nonetheless, as always and knowing how tiring her schedules has been for the past week, it’s maybe a time for you to claim her paramount of all rewards that you gave her, and also, giving in to the temptations and your own animalistic urges as you stop kissing her and stood up, off the bed, stripping your clothing off your body as Yuna watches in delight—those glistening, round eyes watching your every move is such an arousing scene as her lip bites is the cherry on top, encouraging you to go faster.
Hurriedly, your clothing deemed useless, all down on the floor scattered and ignored as your rock-hard length greets Yuna and her eyes—those endearing eyes of hers sets off the lustful mood as she admires your hard cock, her hands enveloping the full girth of it would be the start of this steamy session.
“God—you’re so fucking hot too, daddy. This hard, girthy cock all for me—just for me, hihi~”
And she’s right. It’s all for her, as a grand gift for her hardwork and to let her own desires be fulfilled by you, with her.
“Of course, baby—now, strip your pants off and lay down on your fours, is that clear, Yuna?”
She nods eagerly as she does what she’s been told to, unbuttoning her pants as she draws it down to her ankles, letting gravity do the work as the rest of her body unravels within a single second and making you fall under her spell. Her full body is now on display and you can’t believe how she looks unreal and built like a doll—it almost feels surreal even looking at it, let alone worshiping it with your mouth as you instantly drool over the sight of her tight, slender body. There’s still a single line of defense that she needs to take off: her black panties that served as a showstopper for so long has now been removed and thrown out to god knows where and with both bodies naked and her pussy now within your reach, you won’t going to waste any time about any foreplay.
Of course, you won’t just penetrate her with your whole, fully-erected length as it’s maybe too fast and you yourself, you wanted some time to tease her as you ate up your thoughts earlier—blame her godlike figure for wanting to appreciate it further rather than coursing your way onto the climax of a stupendous show. You kneel down onto the bed as you line your tip onto the emanating heat of her folds as it captivates you to plunge in fully but you fight and refrain from doing so, taking a look of admiration on her impeccable features to further fuel the fire of lust that has been igniting inside your heart since the start. You palm her supple buttcheeks as it compliments the curves of her body and her muscular back which serves such a sight to behold—you’ll literally spend hours murmuring how perfect she looks and you won’t get tired about it because it’s all the truth. As the cherry on top, you let your intrusive thoughts win as you harshly gave those inviting cheeks a slap in which, she loves as the moan that came out of her mouth is the reason—she definitely loves the spanks you give her in every steamy session that’s about to take place.
“Daddy—please put it in me already, please, daddy~ Ow—ohh, daddy~”
Of course, a vixen like her will invite you to fulfill her needs whenever possible. As much as you want to tease her even more, the animalistic urges inside you is further giving you up to the temptation and knowing how insatiable a hot girl like Yuna is, you can’t afford to refrain yourself onto your deserved treat even further as without any warning, you grip her hips as you plunge your whole length deep inside her, filling her up to the hilt. She’s incredibly tight and wet and your earlier stimulation probably helped a lot and every time you try and move your hips, the suffocating clenching of velvety walls ensues as you groan in pain and pleasure just because of it.
“God, Yuna—you’re so fucking tight! You’re probably tighter than what I expected—fuck! I swear, when you don’t get to feel my cock inside this tight, little cunt, it just goes crazily tight and this should be studied!”
“I d-don’t know daddy but—gahh, fuck, fuck, daddy—I’m j-just so—gahh—tight and w-wet around you.”
It’s nigh-impossible for her to articulate anything as your whole length is a bit of a struggle to take, considering that it can almost wreck her tight, little cunt open even with the faintest of thrust and of course, she’s obsessed with it. You start moving with a leisure pace and Yuna couldn’t contain the profanities as she lets it all out, voicing the peak pleasure she’s experiencing. Maybe, with the sight of her perfectly-sculpted back and waist, you’re going to get more aroused and erected that no one can top the serotonin you’re currently feeling—they’re not going to blame you for that, Yuna herself is at her own league and one hell of a woman.
Thanks to the constant wetness of her pussy, it wasn’t a struggle finding the way to increase the pace as your hips maintain such a pleasurable oscillation that the both of you favor it. With this new profounded pace, she tightens the grip on the bed sheets as she clings on it for a leverage to fight the euphoric essence of sex as more angelic moans adds to the symphony of lust and your hips, immediately orchestrate such a wonderful tempo of hard thrusts.
You’re bound to break her open because of how horny you’re feeling now, and give it absolutely everything just to reward both of yourselves to the promised land.
“Oh fuck, daddy—h-harder—pound my p-pussy harder, d-daddy—gahh, oh fuck—right there!!”
Now with Yuna burying her head onto the mattress, her ass raised up and your hand forming a makeshift ponytail for a leverage to further hammer her tight cunt like she deserves it, this new position achieves a greater penetration that it’s too heavenly to be true. You didn’t really care on how much she’s moaning or screaming thanks to the muffling she’s now making with the foam of the mattress acting as a soundproof tool to protect your ears—well, it’s everytime you fuck her senseless, she lets out such ear-screeching screams of pleasure and delight that it’s giving you a hint of a heart attack because the last thing you want to hear on your doorstep is a noise complain just because of Yuna. In every set of thrusts you do, you admire the perfection you’re ruining as the incoming disheveled sight of her is just putting you on a brain rot, the paramount of a brain haywire because of how arousing that thought is.
It’s such an incredible feeling coursing down your veins as all you want to do is fuck her until her legs give out and end on a note whefe Yuna’s fully sullied by you, and on your warm embrace to end the night perfectly and you want achieve just that. Constant cries is being from her as her pussy streams down like a rivulet, knowing how she’s enjoying your wild pace as the clashing of both bodies reverberates such a sound that adds up to the ocean of lustful symphonies that’s going to be lost because on how many the both of you had composed already. Her dripping heat is still as tight even with your onslaught of thrusts and it’s just utter perfection as you love every second that’s happening right now. You alternate between giving her small, dirty talks, harsh spanks on her backside, nibbling and suckling onto her nape and fondling of her perky breasts in which, it stimulates her further into oblivion and in one point, it’s all going to break loose.
“D-Daddy—gahh—daddy…”
“Y-Yes, baby?”
Yuna raises her head a little as her arms supports herself and, she take seconds to articulate words as your pace is literally making her struggle to think straight, fucking her brains out like how she wanted it always. “I’m g-gonna cum—onto this c-cock—daddy I’m s-so—gahh—close!!”
You’re not going to make her suffer from her near success as given the situation, you double the efforts of stimulation onto her weak points as well as your thrusts and soon enough, her dam is about to collapse its walls, unleashing the labor of her own anticipated success. When she lets out a muffled scream, you know it’s all loose as you slow down your thrusts, giving her opportunity to let everything out as she drips down around your cock like a waterfall, every drop signifies her long-awaited orgasm as it stains the sheets—and god, you need another set of these after you’re done with her. You didn’t pull out but let her orgasmic trance pass through as every second was an entire blissful event that clouded her mind. After for like, twenty seconds of a world-rocking orgasm, she slowly recovers as she also wanted your own treasured prize.
“I k-know you wanna c-cum inside my perfect, little cunt—s-so please, daddy—gahh—cum inside me…”
You didn’t think of anything but the fact of chasing your own orgasm and knowing that Yuna herself wants your seed deep inside her says a lot about your conclusion. You’re pretty close on achieving your own high when Yuna came hard, and it wasn’t going to be a struggle on setting the fire onto the fuse as you gave yourself the hardest of thrusts your hips can muster and it’s not that long before you feel the familiar knot in your loins, stepping closer to your anticipated goal.
Yuna pleads in every thrust you do and it adds gasoline to the flames of lust and you love it. You can count up to ten and you’ll probably won’t past zero as you instantly set yourself onto your own blissful trance, letting out such profanities as you bury your cock deep inside her tight walls, filling her up to the brim as you shoot thick, warm shots of semen that is treasured truly by her and her tight pussy. Chasing your paramount of all highs, you ravage her cunt with your final, harsh thrusts as it finally subsides after a barrage of it and the both of you fell down limp as your exasperate bodies catch their own needed breaths, the session being too steamy as always as silence ensues for a while as both your ragged breaths builds up the faint noises that was once emanated by peak vulgarity and sin.
“God, daddy—that was—”
“Good, yeah, baby… That was goddamn good.” You face her onto your side as your sweaty bodies clash together again with your initiation of a torrid kiss, in which she eagerly reciprocates but not so long after, you pull out of her lips’ embrace as you voice out your satisfaction with the earlier steamy sex.
“You felt so good, Yuna—your body is just perfect—hah…”
“And y-you fucked me so well, daddy. You came a lot too—fuck, my legs—shit…”
“Oh no—shit, am I in trouble?” Panic sets in as you’re worried that you fucked her a little too hard yet Yuna reassures you, letting you know that it’s fine and she can still feel it but of course, pain is inevitable given your sets of hard thrusts that almost broke her.
“You sure, Yuna?”
“Yeah, daddy—we may clean up later but I wanna cuddle with you for now, hihi~”
“Come here, Yuna…” You initiated a warm embrace in which she indulges in as your bodies feel the utmost affection that no one can rival, and that’s just a wholesome moment between the both of you.
“But you can fuck my mouth later, daddy—ooh! Or my ass, if you want!”
And she’s cheerful again like nothing ever happened earlier.
God, this girl is freaky and that’s why you fucking adore her and you guess, the show just started between the both of you…
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MIDNIGHT RAIN PT 2
PAIRINGS: daniel ricciardo x singer!fem / horner!reader
TYPE: social media au
SUMMARY: in which they slowly make their way back to each other!
part 1 - part 2
danielricciardo
liked by landonorris, lewishamilton and 648,026 others
danielricciardo: so about that ….
view 17,520 comments
user: why am i not surprised?
user: SCREAMING 🫨
user: EVERYONE SAY, “THANK YOU MAX”!!!!
carlossainz55: date ehhh
maxverstapphen1: you’re welcome;)
↳ user: he’s a legend!!!
user: THE WORLD HAS HEALED!!! ✨
user: tHe scream i sCeamt
user: i cannot function
user: parEnts are finally working things out
↳ user: no more fighting over custody
ynhorner
liked by christianhorner, landonorris and 581,081 others
ynhorner: he’s not so bad, i guess 🤷🏻♀️ @danielricciardo
view 13,829 comments
christianhorner: you’re welcome 😌
user: SCREAMING OMG
user: max and christian are geniuses!!
user: these mf really set them up
user: the way christian thinks danny is the perfect guy for his daughter 😭
user: I CAN’T!!!
↳ user: me and you both
user: BEST MONTH SO FAR! 😭
user: @maxverstappen @christianhorner thank you, kings!!
user: i knew this day would come!!!
ynhorner
liked by georgerussell63, alex_albon and 562,746 others
ynhorner: my sunshine:) i would choose you over anyone else, over and over again ❤️
view 17,829 comments
user: THE SCREAM I LET OUT, OMG!!!!
↳ user: tHey’VE COME A LonG WAY!!
maxverstappen1: mission accomplished @christianhorner
↳ christianhorner: 🤝🏼
user: pARENTS ARE OFFICIALLY BACK IN BUSINESS
danielricciardo: ❤️❤️❤️
charles_leclerc: so happy for you guys!!!
user: just a reminder that max and christian really DID THAT
user: my yndaniel heart ❤️
user: soulmates, frr!!!
user: HAPPIEST MF DAY OF MY LIFE
danielricciardo
liked by estebanocon, maxverstappen1 and 639,837 others
danielricciardo: can’t imagine my life with anyone other than you ❤️
view 17,947 comments
user: MOTHER IS SERVING
user: sCREAMING!!!
user: the world is now a better place 😊
ynhorner: i loveee youuuu!!! ❤️
user: do my eyes deceive me or is that an engagement ring??!?!??
↳ user: wTF IT IS!!!!
user: IS THAT A RING I SEE ON HER FINGER!!?!??
maxverstappen1: can’t imagine my life w/o you either
user: she’s so effortlessly gorgeous!! 😍
user: is tHat a ring i see????
↳ user: i didn’T even notice
user: everyone say thanks to horner and max
user: my parents 😭
pierregasly: 🤩
ynhorner and danielricciardo
liked by charlottesiine, landonorris and 789,749 others
ynhorner: he wanted a bride, i said YES! 💍🤍
tagged: @danielricciardo
view 35,029 comments
user: I AM SCREAMING
user: totally NOT FREAKING OUT OMG AIANDKSLSB
danielricciardo: mrs. ricciardo has a nice ring to it;)
↳ ynhorner: i can already hear it, “mister and mrs ricciardo”
charlottesiine: congrats, my love!! ❤️
↳ ynhorner: 😘 i miss youuu!!
maxversteppen1: we did that!! @christianhorner
maxverstappen1: MY PARENTS!!! ☺️
↳ landonorris: our*
charles_leclerc: congratulations you two!! ❤️
therealgerihalliwell: congratulations, sweetie!! 😘
user: max is just like us, i swear
↳ user: the BIGGEST yndaniel shipper
christianhorner: my little girl is all grown up 🥺
↳ maxverstappen1: if yn and daniel adopt me, does this make you my grandfather?
↳ christianhorner: don’t push it 😐
alex_albon: congrats ☺️
redbullracing: soo happy for you both!!! ❤️
user: our parents are getting married!!! 🥳
user: WE DID IT!! WE SURVIVED THE GREAT WAR 😭
↳ user: convincing myself taylor wrote this song about them
user: danny goes back to red bull, yn releases a song about danny, they get back together, and now they’re engaged???!?! mY heart can’t take this 😭 i’m so proud of them!!!
#daniel ricciardo#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#daniel riccardo x reader#f1 x yn#daniel riccardo imagine#daniel ricciardo social media au#social media#f1 fiction#daniel ricciardo x you#f1 fandom#formula 1#formula 1 social media au#formula one x reader#formula one x y/n#danny ric#formula one#formula 1 smau#daniel ricciardo smau#formula 1 fanfic#daniel ricciardo fanfic#daniel ricciardo angst#formula 1 x oc#formula 1 x reader#f1 x you#formula one oneshot#f1 imagine#formula one imagine#f1 instagram au#au instagram
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Married | Part II
LINK TO PART ONE
Coriolanus Snow x Reader | 5.1K words
FILTHY SMUT 18+ ONLY. oral (m and f receiving), dubcon, alcohol makes consent messy, brutal sex, blackout drunk, bad media coverage, lingerie, exhibitionism (a little), they’re both terrible for each other in the best way possible, possessiveness <3 this one gets a bit dark.
Married, back by popular demand. hope it’s okay. i worked hard, i’m a bit nervous. let me know what you thought. requests always open.
“Not a villain,” Coriolanus scoffed. “A star.”
He inhaled and set his sights towards his next objective. Already leaning in, Coriolanus pulled [Y/N]’s earlobe between his lips tantalizingly. “Now, I seem to recall being promised a blowjob, my Darling.”
[Y/N] sighed. “I had hoped you’d forgotten.”
Coriolanus smirked, inches from her face. “I never forget a promise.” He muttered.
The driver pulled up in front of them with his car and Coriolanus pulled [Y/N] inside. [Y/N] put her head on Coriolanus’ shoulder instead of putting on her seatbelt for the short drive home. She was drunk enough not to care if she was touching him, or if he was touching her. Coriolanus was touching her. He was touching her too much already at her thighs and hips. The pair of them had already broken the touch barrier that evening, but her brain was too loopy to try to push any kind of new/old boundary.
[Y/N] blinked heavily. She was able to tell that Coriolanus was already becoming frustrated with the bulk of tulle that was her black gown. It was funny for an engagement party when she thought about it, since it stood in stark contrast to her crisp white wedding gown. Coriolanus couldn’t seem to figure out how to touch her right under all the fabric as he had then they were standing earlier.
“Is your wedding dress going to be easier to handle?” Coriolanus said into the back of her ear. “This one is starting to get on my nerves.”
“I can’t tell you that. You’re not ‘pposed to see it til you see it at the alter.” She giggled sadly.
Coriolanus frowned. “Ancient superstition,” he said. “I’m not seeing it anyway. You’d be telling me about it. It’s different.”
“Nice try.”
Coriolanus’ frown deepened as he rolled his icy blue ice. “May I ask you something else, then?”
“It depends.” [Y/N] said clearly. Too clearly, really. That was the problem with drunk people, they knew they were drunk, but they tried to prove to everyone around them that they weren’t.
Coriolanus laughed at her expense. She was behaving like a child. He found it equal parts charming and frustrating. “Have you ever given a blowjob before?” He asked too loudly for [Y/N]’s liking.
“Coriolanus!” She gasped, smacking his arm.
“I’m just asking! You don’t have to strike me. Haven’t we had enough of that for one night?”
[Y/N] hated Coriolanus. He made her blood boil. “What does it matter?” She growled.
“I was curious if you had offered because it was a matter of superior ability, or because that was the only thing you had to offer.”
“You’re calling me desperate!”
“I wasn’t specifically, but since we both agree that it’s true…”
“All this was shaping up to be halfway tolerable, and you open your big mouth again. Fuck you!”
“Yeah, I know. You fucking me is what I was aiming for. Yes or no on the blowjob thing? I was assuming you had, if it makes any difference.”
[Y/N] paused. She had given a blowjob. Quite a few, actually. They were very convenient for getting out of a bad situation fast. She didn’t answer. [Y/N] still didn’t have the courage to say that in front of the driver.
“You can say yes. I know you’re not a virgin.” Coriolanus said bluntly.
Coriolanus would know that. Prior to their engagement, it was true that [Y/N] had pulled Coriolanus in for a quick fuck at a University party. She was shocked that he implied he even remembered that for as drunk as she recalled him being. [Y/N] wondered if the two of them would only ever be able to love each other under the influence.
“Can this conversation wait a few moments, we’re almost home.” [Y/N] replied.
“You didn’t have much of a problem back at the party in front of damn near everyone that’s ever known you. Is one driver going to make a difference?”
“FINE!” [Y/N] snapped. “Fine. I have, I give a decent blowie. Happy?”
Coriolanus smiled an uncharacteristically wide grin. The driver coughed slightly and loosened his tie. [Y/N] would have been incredibly embarrassed if she had any dignity left. Coriolanus grinned even wider at his driver’s behavior. His new favorite pass time was seeing how far he was capable of pushing [Y/N] to do whatever he wanted. So far, so good. Her initial resistance before her moment of breaking and behaving even worse than himself is what made this all the more fun.
The driver pulled up in front of the steps to their city apartment. Coriolanus gathered [Y/N]’s long forgotten shoes from the car’s floor. The driver got out to open the door for [Y/N]. Ever the gentleman publicly, Coriolanus ran around the side of the car to get it faster. He helped his fiancée out of the car. A Herculean task when you consider the alcohol in her system and the weight of all the fabric in her ballgown. “Come on, Darling,” he said, yanking her somehow elegantly towards the stairs, “we have business to attend to.”
Coriolanus helped her up the stairs and into their apartment. It was easier than it had been on the way out in those deathtrap heels he had purchased her.
Faintly, [Y/N] heard the door snap shut behind her and the deadbolt click resolutely. She leaned up against the wall. Coriolanus left her field of vision for a moment. When he re-entered her sights, [Y/N] blinked up at him. “Hi.” She said.
Coriolanus smirked at her curiously. “Hello.” He replied.
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” [Y/N] started. She took a clumsy step towards Coriolanus and grabbed the lapels of his coat for support once she could reach him. “You’re quite pretty,” she said. Coriolanus began a laugh. “No! Don’t. Don’t do that. I mean, you’re a very attractive man. You are. Too bad that you’re—“
“Don’t finish that sentence,” Coriolanus cut in with a scoff. “Here, let me help you,” he pulled her in closer. His hands moved nimbly down her back to pop open one button after the other on her dress while still allowing her to support herself against his front. For the first time, Coriolanus didn’t care that much if she wrinkled his clothes. When the majority of the buttons were undone, her dress slid down her body and landed in a large heap at her feet. What was left under the dress was [Y/N] in no bra (which Coriolanus had not expected, even under the strapless gown) and alarmingly red lace panties, stockings and garters (also unexpected). “I… Wow,” He said cooly. His eyes raked hungrily down her body. Coriolanus had never seen so much of it at once before. “Is there a bra that goes with this?”
“Mhmm,” [Y/N] nodded shyly.
“Hm, I think I would like to see it sometime. This isn’t half bad, though,” He said. He could Coriolanus’ large hands his hands slid down her chest. His hands held her breasts firmly. His eyes widen watching her nipples pebble under the touch of his thumbs. “Why’d you wear this?”
The lingerie wasn’t the most stunning set he had ever seen—it seemed more practical than anything else— though, he could fix that. Coriolanus felt the crotch of his pants tighten at the prospect, knowing that she was already into wearing such things. He was going to call for a lingerie catalog in the morning and buy all of it.
“It’s most of what I wear. I—I like it.”
“I’ll remember,” Coriolanus nodded. She was confident he would remember. She probably wouldn’t remember saying it, though.
Coriolanus stared down at their hardwood floors. He hated hardwood. It creaked too much and only looked good with an abundance of maintenance. Coriolanus wanted [Y/N] to suck him off as soon as possible and figured that she would probably be appreciative of getting it over with faster, but his mind was racing thinking about the unsightly bruises the hardwood entryway would leave on her knees.
Then the bedroom had the issue of the rug and the rugburn that would give. Further, which bedroom would they go to? Coriolanus hated that [Y/N] insisted on staying in her own room. He would have to fix that. She was clearly just as exciting as he had recalled from childhood, it had merely taken them both a moment to get to that level of vulnerability with each other. Coriolanus decided to lead [Y/N] to his bedroom. He also decided he would insist she kneel on a pillow. He hated the look of bruised knees. It reminded him of the war.
While he pulled her along, he glanced down at her. “The tears at the party, were those real?”
[Y/N] laughed in surprise at the question. “No! Well, maybe twenty percent, if that? Because once I get started, it’s hard to stop.”
“Really?” He replied, leaning her against his open doorway. “You’re sick. I’m rather impressed. That takes a lot of… What’s the word?”
“You said ruthless earlier.”
“Yes, that too, but… It’s brilliant that you can do that at the drop of a hat. Very valuable to you. Scary for me, I’m sure.”
“… Thanks. I’ve been doing it since I was little.” [Y/N] replied dryly. She had never seen Coriolanus’ bedroom before. He had seen hers. Coriolanus thought he could barge in whenever he desired. His own room was previously off limits. [Y/N] figured it wouldn’t have been off limits had she wanted to have sex with him before now.
The room was clean, neat and lacking personal items almost entirely. There was a red rug, a vase of white roses on the nightstand and a small desk for when he took his work to bed with him. The bed, specifically, was enormous. It was piled high with pillow after pillow and the softest white sheets she could imagine. It made the bed she had spent all these weeks in look like a joke.
“Yes, as I recall, you were the fucking… crybaby in school until we were fourteen. And you mean to tell me it was fake?” Coriolanus threw his least favorite pillow on the floor for [Y/N]’s knees with a hushed thump.
“I mean, yes.”
“Why?”
“I like the attention.” [Y/N] said plainly. They both knew she wouldn’t have been so open about it without the alcohol, but boy, did Coriolanus desire this version of her. He saw her in that moment, standing mostly nude in his bedroom. He saw her for the first time for what she was. She was real. [Y/N] was a real person made up of a mess of contradictions. She was a very calculating person. Coriolanus saw that ruthlessness and that icy deadness to her. That was exactly the thing he thought he could love the most about her.
“Freak. What else can you do?”
“I dunno. I just… Do what gets me ahead. Don’t we all, Coriolanus? And, uh, when I see someone I don’t like, instead of saying ‘good to see you’ when they say ‘good to see you,’ I say, ‘yes! To see you!’ And I kind of mumble so it’s not obvious that I’m incapable of saying ‘oh yeah, nice to see you.’ You know I hate pleasantries.”
“Freak,” Coriolanus repeated with a smile. “No pleasantries then, get on your knees.”
[Y/N] walked the few steps towards towards the pillow he had thrown down and sank to her knees on it. She was clumsy when she was drinking, Coriolanus thought. More often than not, she was violently ungraceful more often than not. Coriolanus had rarely seen her be graceful at all. He liked that. He thought he’d moments of clumsiness and carelessness were alluring. [Y/N] looked helpless to him sometimes and he admired that. He wanted to be the thing that held together her broken and unsure nature. He thought of all the things he might have to help her accomplish in their future shared life together.
Coriolanus could see himself reaching easily for things she could not reach in the kitchen. He could see her being unable to lace up her winter boots due to the tightness of her dress, so he would get on his knees and do it for her. If she tripped on the sidewalk, he would pull her to her feet. If [Y/N] was too drunk to get up the stairs, he would carry her. When some strange man dared to look at her the wrong way, Coriolanus would kill him. She seemed so fragile and needy to him. Coriolanus loved that.
He needed her to need him. He wanted to be the only thing she ever need.
She was to be his.
“Stop looking at me,” She said. “Let’s get this over with.”
“Wow, that kind of talk really gets me hard.” Coriolanus walked towards her, undoing his black leather belt and tossing his coat on the floor. She thought about the amount of excess he would afford her if he cared so little for his own possessions to leave them on the floor. [Y/N] thought about her own position on his floor briefly.
“We agreed no pleasantries.”
“Come on, you’re going to be mine for the rest of our lives. At least let me look at you.”
[Y/N] tipped her head down with a frustrated sigh. He stared wolfishly at her as she knelt half-bare on his floor. She couldn’t help but blush at how exposed she felt. [Y/N] felt more on display and exposed in front of one man, the man she was to marry, than she did in front of every guest at the party earlier in the night.
“Don’t look away from me,” Coriolanus said firmly. “Those eyes are too beautiful to look at the ground like that.”
She looked back up at him begrudgingly, her eyes wide with fear, or lust. She had no choice but to watch Coriolanus popped open the button of his trousers open. [Y/N] could see the imprint of his dick against his thigh. He rubbed himself through his pants for a moment. [Y/N] swallowed nervously. Coriolanus was a broad, imposing man. The size of his cock shouldn’t have been surprising, but her eyes bulged all the same.
Coriolanus pulled his cock free of his pants. Logistically, [Y/N] was officially concerned about offering the blowjob. His long cock was what her the rest of her life looked like. She would surely have to get used to it eventually.
Without hesitation, [Y/N]’s mouth fell open as he approached. Her hands instinctually gripped the back of his thighs. Coriolanus, after loosening his tie, buried his hands in her once elegantly styled hair and forced himself down her throat.
Coriolanus moaned through gritted teeth in sync with [Y/N]’s gag when she took him in. There was little chance of taking all of him down her throat at once. Unsurprisingly, Coriolanus fucked hard and fast. Brutally so. [Y/N] hardly had a chance to breathe through her nose. Fortunately, at least, Coriolanus did all the work by maneuvering her face up and down on his length. He regulated the tempo and the pressure. All [Y/N] could do was try to swallow and hollow her cheeks out as best she could. Don’t think, just follow. I’ve got you, echoed in her mind.
Tears ran down her cheeks. Real ones.
“Fuck, that’s good,” Coriolanus grunted after several moments. [Y/N] raised her tongue slightly against him. Through wet eyes, she saw Coriolanus’ eyebrows lift and his forehead crease when she did. That was effective. “[Y/N]!”
The only sounds in the room after that were gagging and heavy breathing. Coriolanus’ breathing, not [Y/N]’s. She couldn’t remember the last time she was able to breathe, it felt like. She was really blowing for her life here, she could barely catch an inhale through her nose. [Y/N] felt herself get more and more lightheaded and she did all she could to keep her eyes open.
Quickly, she tapped the back of Coriolanus’ left thigh. It was universal symbol for this isn’t great for me. Coriolanus understood this signal loud and clear. He thought he would keep going, but almost immediately decided he would rather have a wife in one piece instead of a perfect blowjob and slowed his pace significantly. Like a good husband.
He got gratification from slowing down too, because he could see the relieved and grateful gleam in [Y/N]’s expression. Coriolanus had gifted her that relief. He was getting close.
“Swallow.” He choked out. [Y/N] turned her eyes up at him again to confirm his request. Coriolanus’ eyes were tightly shut. [Y/N] had no idea if this had been minutes or near an hour. Her jaw ached. She felt his cock twitch against her tongue as she sucked.
That was the last clear memory [Y/N] had that night. The build up of the alcohol that had been genetically modified to be strong enough to get one drunk faster, the stress, the sweat, the tears, the blowjob, the lightheadedness, the dancing, the fear and the anger all happening on one night culminated into a good old fashion liquor blackout.
She had brief flickers of memory instead of a picture of the night. She was unsure if Coriolanus had finished or not. [Y/N] vaguely remembered Coriolanus unhooking her garters and taking off her stockings. She could feel the clean sheet and duvet over her exhausted body. She swore she could recall Coriolanus’ arm over her her waist and his lips against her ear whispering something. If only she could remember what he said.
—
The next morning, [Y/N] woke up to the birds and the traffic noise. All of it sounded world-shatteringly loud. She felt sick to her stomach. What was that dreadful taste in her mouth? Her head pounded. Too much posca at her engagement party. Desperately, she wanted a cup of coffee. [Y/N] groped at the covers to drag them over her face to block out the morning light that filtered through the window.
Hold on.
As she pulled the covers over her head, [Y/N] realized these covers did not smell like her. They smelled of roses. That, and something else more metallic that lingered under the palatable rose smell. Coriolanus smelled like that. Coriolanus’ bed.
Buried in the comfortable duvet, she couldn’t bear to crawl out from under it. She was filled with panic. How had she ended up here? She could feel that Coriolanus wasn’t beside her, so where had he ended up? Had they slept together?
Had they slept together?
The phrase and all of its meanings bounced around in her head. Her hand slid down her body. She had no top on. That was a bad sign. Her hand continued further down her body and landed on lace underwear. She exhaled and let her hand flop back down on the bed. From another room, probably the living room, [Y/N] heard the phone ring. She wished it would stop. [Y/N] rose from bed with some difficulty.
It was clear upon standing up that the only thing that would make her feel better was vomiting. She dashed madly for Coriolanus’ en suite bathroom and knelt in front of the toilet, empty the contents of her stomach for a good couple of minutes. The pressure of her headache decreased afterwards, but the terrible taste in her mouth grew. [Y/N] flushed the toilet and stood in front of the mirror. She had never looked this bad in her life.
Dark ringed eyes, leaking leftover makeup and smeared lipstick, a bold hickey on her neck like a seventeen year old. What had she done?
[Y/N] grabbed Coriolanus’ burgundy robe off the back of his bathroom door and cinched it around her waist. She walked back through his bedroom. Her knees burned a bit with each step. Maybe from the heels she had worn the night before. Her eyes landed on the flat pillow on the floor right next to Coriolanus’ belt. This seemed like a bad omen.
Suspiciously, [Y/N] walked into the too bright hallway light. [Y/N] stumbled to her own bathroom and frantically brushed her teeth before facing Coriolanus. It hurt to hold her jaw open to brush her molars, but anything to rid herself of the salty, stale taste that had taken up residence. Finally then, she moved into the living room.
There was Coriolanus smiling on the couch like he was most mornings after some sort of party. His hair lacked product and lay rich and curly against his forehead. Boxer shorts and an open dress shirt with the sleeves pushed up left little up to the imagination about his body. He was so pale that he practically reflected the sunlight from the open window back at her like a mirror. Coriolanus was perfect, even first thing. How annoying.
“What time is it?” [Y/N] croaked hoarsely. Coriolanus nearly knocked his mug of bitter coffee off the end table in surprise as he reached for the remote. He abruptly clicked off the television.
“Eleven. There about,” Coriolanus replied, vocally calmer than his body would betray. He rose from the mauve couch and moved to [Y/N]. He ran his hand down the sleeve of his robe that she wore. “Is this mine?” He asked softly.
“Yes, sorry. It was all I could find. I’ll go swap it for—“
“Please. What is mine, is yours,” Coriolanus interrupted. “It suits you,” he said with a hand running across his own gold CSB monogram on the breast pocket of the robe she wore. “How did you sleep?”
“Fine, I suppose,” but what she really wanted to say was ‘what did we do last night?’ “And you?”
Coriolanus chanced an animalistic smile. “Last night, you said no more pleasantries.”
[Y/N] scanned her brain for a memory of saying that. She did not remember that phrase specifically, but she did catch a lot more glimpses of her night in her mind’s eye. [Y/N]’s strongest images were her mother’s shocked eyes, the empty glasses of posca, Coriolanus with a red handprint on his cheek, and his hard cock at her eye level.
“Coriolanus, what did I do?” [Y/N] asked, realizing exactly what she had done.
“Which part?” Coriolanus asked cautiously, sliding his hands around her waist and pulling her close. Coriolanus wanted her to feel held and ravished for a moment since he knew she would go ballistic at what was on the TV, in the newspaper, and on the lips of everyone in town. She felt like a still from an old moving picture; being held like that.
“How bad?”
“Hm? Oh, your mouth was lovely—“ he tried to expertly redirect with an innuendo.
That assumption of what they had done had been correct. Damn. “No, shut up, stop. The… The TV, the news, the—“
“Do you want to know?”
[Y/N] felt like deflating. It must have been bad. She thought back to how he had turned off the television so fast when she walked in. “I… Will I like what I see?”
“How about we sit down, Darling?”
Coriolanus sat [Y/N] down gently on the middle cushion of the couch and folded his lanky legs into the seat to her right. She looked worried. Coriolanus hated watching other people worry, it was distracting for him and often created too many new problems. He swallowed down the urge to snap at her for pouting like that. He hated pouting too considering how unproductive it was. The blonde man reached his right hand out and used a pointer finger and thumb to tip [Y/N]’s chin up so she was forced to look him in the eye. “Hey,” he said calmly. “Any press is good press.” Coriolanus repeated their mantra from the night prior.
[Y/N] inhaled through her nose. “Any press is good press.” She agreed. Coriolanus nodded and pressed a dutiful kiss to her temple to praise her for that answer. [Y/N] stared at the dark and glassy TV screen. Coriolanus clicked it on.
A fuchsia haired newswoman sat behind a desk with the regular Capitol News studio set up for an morning gossip show. The headline was plastered on a chiron in the lower third of the screen: ‘SNOW HEIR’S GIRL OUT OF CONTROL.’ In the top right hand corner of the frame was a photo of [Y/N] sobbing on her knees in front of Coriolanus’ who wiped her tears. [Y/N] wasn’t able to listen to the grating anchorwoman who was speculating about whether or not Coriolanus should send [Y/N] to rehab.
Coriolanus watched [Y/N] watch herself on TV. He grew uncomfortable when he couldn’t automatically read her expression. He had prepared himself for some tears and a temper tantrum, but neither came.
“What are you thinking about?” Coriolanus asked her. [Y/N] was too still. She didn’t respond quickly. “[Y/N]?” Coriolanus nudged her with his elbow. “What are you thinking about?”
“The headline.” She finally replied.
Coriolanus bit his bottom lip. He kept his voice as level as she had. “Okay. What about the headline?” He asked.
“Well, it isn’t very good, is it?”
“What?”
“It’s too plain.”
Coriolanus narrowed his eyes. “It’s too plain?”
[Y/N] nodded slowly. She finally ripped her eyes away from the television set and looked up at him. “It’s informative, but it’s not eye catching beyond being alarmist,” She replied. [Y/N] pointed at the TV, smiling. “That’s my picture. That’s us up there, Coryo, and that’s the best headline they could come up with? It’s weak.”
Coriolanus couldn’t recall her calling him Coryo before, even when [Y/N] had heard it from friends, family and classmates. She was saying something. He should have been paying better attention, but [Y/N] looked lovely wearing his robe. “Coryo, are you listening to me?”
He wasn’t. Too bad. Coryo. “I got distracted, I’m sorry, Darling. You were saying?”
“I said, please get me a piece of paper and a pencil. I want to work on something better and call in a suggestion for a correction since obviously—Mmph!“
[Y/N] sentence was never finished. Coriolanus leaned in towards her face and slammed his lips against hers hungrily. Habitually, [Y/N] grabbed his biceps as they toppled flat back onto the couch. Coriolanus wasted little time pressing the tip of his tongue against her lips aggressively. He knew he gave into an open-mouthed makeout too easily, but it was so much fun.
Both pulled back after some time for a breath. “Coriolanus…” [Y/N] panted.
“Coryo, please. Nobody calls me that anymore.” He said, staring down at her.
“Coryo, I want a pencil and a piece of paper.”
“You’re crazy. You want to call in a correction on a story about yourself because you want to make it worse. You’re beautiful. I don’t tell you that enough.”
“Then tell me some more after you get me—“
“Not yet,” Coriolanus said. His hands untied her robe like she was a gift box. The best present to come out of this engagement party, certainly. “[Y/N], do you know what you did last night?”
“A few things, at least.”
“Very funny. I mean…” Coriolanus sighed. His hormones raced. He could barely make eye contact with her since his eyes were drawn elsewhere. “I mean, you bulldozed your whole life. You Thirteen’d your life off the map.” he said. She nodded. She shivered at the reality of his statement. [Y/N] had nothing left but ashes. She had burned almost every bridge she had.
Except him.
“Not the part with you,” [Y/N] said. She smiled. She said it to please Coriolanus and it seemed to work. He was much easier to play than she thought he was. “You’re all I’ve got left, Coryo.” That was absolutely true. For better or worse, Coriolanus was inevitable.
“Let me take care of you,” Coriolanus said. “You’re about to be my wife. There’s no one else you need. You’re mine. I’m not going to let you fall through the cracks.” He said.
“Promise you won’t?”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Coriolanus said honestly, but he didn’t feel strongly enough to really promise. “Do you like these panties?”
“Yes.”
“Shame. I’ll buy you a new set.” There was a horrible tearing sound and after that, Coriolanus’ mouth was on [Y/N]’s pussy. He licked and sucked for all he was worth.
[Y/N] did not expect Coriolanus to be good at this. All this time, she had disallowed him from touching her because she thought he would be a selfish lover. There was still potential that he was, but fuck, Coriolanus sure was good for this. His long thin nose bumped her clit as he pressed his tongue deeper into her folds and she moaned. Her hands sank into his curls.
“Don’t touch my hair.” Coriolanus said into her cunt.
“No,” She said, pulling on his hair. Coriolanus was irked, but let her do it anyway. He had never felt pleasure from someone tugging his hair like that before. [Y/N] wrapped her legs around his shoulders. Coriolanus used his strong, callused hands to hold her thighs open. He was going to make her cum with only his greedy mouth, like she had for him last night.
Quid pro quo. That was the nature of their whole operation, Coriolanus realized. It was fine by him.
It was still early and Coriolanus had the day off. He was ready to make up for lost time. He was going to make her cum in every room of their home. Coriolanus was addicted to her taste. He was addicted to her mind. All of this felt cloaked in danger; it was too personal for Coriolanus. Oh well.
By day’s end, [Y/N] wouldn’t be able to climb out of bed for a couple of days on her own. Coriolanus’ constant tongue-fucking pulling orgasms from her had turned her brain to mush, but not before she was able to force Coriolanus off and jot down a few headlines of her own while he marked up her neck.
‘GAMEMAKER’S FIANCÉE: FREAK OR FOOL?’
‘CAPITOL’S GOLDEN BOY FALLS FOR BAD GIRL.’
‘ALLEGED CHEATING SCANDAL SHAKES CAPITOL YOUTH.’
‘GAMEMAKER WALKS OUT THE VICTOR AFTER PARTY DISASTER.’
‘’WEDDING IS OFF’ SPECULATES PLINTH FAMILY.’
‘GAMEMAKER’S FIANCÉE LIES, CHEATS AND STEALS THE NIGHT.’
‘SNOW’S FALLING (STANDARDS).’
Half of her ideas dripped as moans while Coriolanus worked on her pussy. She was weak enough to do little more than pull his hair and try to clench around whatever he pushed into her. [Y/N]’s orgasm-addled mind finally comprehended that Coriolanus made her better. He made her more creative, bolder, and free from every burden except him. Finally, willingly, [Y/N] gave Coriolanus the last thing she had to give: Herself.
It felt fucking incredible
TAGLIST:
@badwicht @stelleduarte @cinnamongirl127 @prettyppetty @soulessien @bejeweledreverie @jjstyles @arminsarlerts @chmpgneprblem @co1dmountains @miscellaneousmoonchild @lille999 @pumkinnxsmut @taykorsyogurt @ndycrls @watermelonharry @nananarwhal @ohantonia @catlover420sstuff @justaproudslytherpuff @notarabellasstuff @scarytiger111 @zucchinimalfoy @secretsicanthideanymore @h-l-vlovesvintage @dannydevsbbg @clintsupremacy @lookclosernow @10ava01 @or-was-it-just-a-dream @lucielsstuff @fairyydvst @spencereidbasis @a-mellifluous-life @daenerysqueenofhearts @heavqn @dangelnleif @lapisthelovely
apologies again for the tags that did NOT work.
#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow#hunger games#the hunger games#coriolanus snow imagine#coriolanus snow x you#coryo snow#coriolanus snow smut#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus x you#ballad of songbirds and snakes#truculent series
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Ziam is real, climb on board
For the first time, we’re experiencing a genuine influx of people looking into Ziam, the real relationship between Zayn and Liam. And honestly it’s about time. It’s always been so beautiful and devoted and consistent and visible to those willing to invest and find out for themselves. It’s also been so unseen and dismissed and a bit buried by Larry too. I’m a Larry too, but right now I’m all about Ziam. I’m really happy Ziam is getting there deserved time seeing some light.
I’m not here to convince anyone. Ziam isn’t new, it has been around and discussed and real since 2012 when we believe their relationship started extending beyond friendship. There is an existing treasure trove that can be sought out by people willing to open their mind and examine it, especially from Zayn and Liam themselves. Right from the start and up until present day.
The truth is we are experiencing a moment we weren’t expecting. First with Liam’s death. Now with Zayn touring for the first time ever as a solo artist.
People are interested in Liam and that is a normal reaction. People are noticing a lot of things that don’t make sense and are curious and questioning that. People can’t make sense about his relationship with his “girlfriend”, the public PR performance at his funeral of a select group of celebrities (all aligned with Modest, Simon Jones PR or existing narratives regarding the boys) and of course the narrative around his “son” Bear.
Usually when things don’t make sense, there is a good reason, we know this with Larry too, and so in the same way people should look and critically engage. Gaps can’t always be filled when we are dealing with public media narratives that then clearly don’t align with who a person really is consistently as a human. It's pretty hard work for all involved to contain a decades plus closet, in times like this. That is a big part of what people are noticing with Liam. They should question public narratives and media. Liam wanted to be seen and heard for who he really was, and celebrating and talking about Ziam right now is one of the biggest parts of seeing and knowing Liam. Its not disrespectful if you've done the work to see and know, just like with Larry.
Now we also finally have Zayn touring for the first time ever as a solo artist. Seeing him on stage after a 10 year wait is kind of exhilarating and like any of the boys you get a reminder on stage of who the person really is, really leaning in and hearing the lyrics live and seeing his being. Zayn is very definitely coding to us in a way that he hasn’t been able to do so before. He knew we would be looking and he wants to be seen. He is literally telling us that he is honest and truthful in his music. Zayn’s public narrative has never made sense either, it's all the same closeting stuff. Copy of a copy of a copy.
The narrative set up for Room Under the Stairs was actually quite strange, and in reality it translates very poorly to the lyrics and the emotions. So many gaps and things that don't make sense. In the future I will share some analysis on RUTS. I’ve been immersed in the album non-stop since May. The album to me is mostly about his closet - the pain it has caused him, the effect it has had on his relationship, the pain and effect it has had on his long term partner, the ways in which he has had to reframe his mindset to live within the reality of his closet, the ways he has changed his lifestyle to focus on the simple things in life to help his mental health impacted by his closet (and other things). Yet throughout all that heartbreaking pain, he still talks about his person, his lover, he refers to 'they' in many key lyrics, he brings his partner into the lyrics clearly, lyrics that clearly refer back to past and present times. Its the same person, it always has been in Zayn's lyrics. He tells them and us that he wouldn’t change anything despite all that pain, that their love has been worth it, that he is devoted, that their love was like stardust from the start until forever. The most specific songs relating to his person haven't been included on the tour setlist - How it Feels, The Time, False Starts, Grateful, Something in the Water and of course Stardust. They are the strongest songs on the album, the ones that have made me cry non-stop for the last 6 months. I suspect he rearranged the setlist, they would have been too hard to sing live. Instead we see a few B sides we wouldn't have expected on tour. I hope more people will listen to RUTS, it's absolutely devastating, empowering and life affirming and you can really see and feel who Zayn is.
Enjoy your Ziam journey if you decide to take it.
#ziam#ziam mayne#ziam is real#one direction#larry#larry stylinson#stts tour#stairway to the sky tour#zayn#zayn malik#liam payne
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https://www.tumblr.com/atla-confessions/759438562978562048/zutara-and-azutara-both-agree-katara-would-have?source=share
Do a post on this please I don't have the energy
I see this sentiment a lot lately, and yes, it is frustrating. But I’m going to talk about it because it perfectly illustrates the way (kataang) fans take power away from Katara’s narrative and reduce her complexity as a result.
For those too tired to look at the OP (understandable) it’s an anon saying that both Zutara and Kazula would be problematic and harmful to Katara because the Fire Nation would never accept her, and that she and her family would always be in danger yada yada blah blah.
And honestly? I agree with that. It would be dangerous for Katara. But if you think that would stop Katara, you fundamentally don’t understand her character.
Do you really think Katara is some poor little damsel who needs to be protected at all costs and sent away to live a quiet life in the countryside? No; that’s never been Katara. Katara wants to fight and she has never backed down from a challenge. It’s who she is.
Katara is the girl who left her home to travel across a war-torn world to chase even a chance that she could play a part in ending the war. She’s constantly putting herself in dangerous situations because she follows her heart, she does what’s right even if it’s a risk to her safety. The Katara we know from ATLA is not some demure, unassuming girl who would be happy to sit back and become known for her healing above all else while her friends fought in her place. Katara would have hated to see her future as it was written. She is loud. She is proud. She is a fighter.
Katara not only accepts a challenge; she’s eager for it. She’s strong, she knows it, and she isn’t afraid to use her power for good.
I know someone is going to jump in the comments and accuse me of “shaming” Katara for her “choices” (nevermind the fact that she’s a fictional character so every choice she makes isn’t her own; it’s a narrative chosen for her by the male writers) but I’m not even saying that being a healer is inherently weak or bad. I’m saying it’s not Katara.
It’s a shame that so many people are willing to overlook the butchering of her story just because they’re so protective over canon and are completely unwilling to engage with it critically.
This sentiment reflects the issues many fans have with canon kataang, because it’s a very common misogynistic trope in media. A female character can be strong, but it’s only temporary. We can see her fight and triumph, but at the end she’s expected to give that up for marriage and motherhood after the war. Her identity is reduced to her relation to a man. She isn’t expected to retain her strength; she is expected to accept a quiet recognition while the world sings the man’s praises.
That was the fate of Katara in canon. And it is a disservice to her character. Katara would have wanted to continue to fight, because the fight wasn’t over. Anon’s recognition that Fire Nation nobility would have an issue with her holding power shows they understand that too. So why do you think Katara would be fine with sitting back and letting that happen? Why do you think she’d let that scare her away? Not my Katara.
Especially when love enters the picture. Let’s say Katara did canonically love Zuko, or Azula, or anyone outside of her nation for that matter. Yes, it would be more difficult for her. But do you really think Katara would back down for that reason?
In fact, do you realize how insulting it is to imply that she should to anyone in an interracial relationship? Or a same sex relationship? Yes, societal pressure and bigotry make them more difficult. But it doesn’t make them wrong. And the idea that it’s selfish or wrong because it’s endangering the family is insulting.
Especially in the case of Kazula. The Fire Nation is canonically homophobic. There would be danger and backlash for any same sex relationship, especially involving a member of the royal family like Azula. So…what then. Are gay people supposed to stop existing? Is Azula supposed to just never date or marry because it would be too dangerous?
Yeah, no. 0/10, trash take, do better.
(This part is mostly a joke but I also want to point it out)
The anon also implies that Katara’s canon relationship (with the Avatar) wouldn’t also carry the same risks. Which it would, probably even more so. Katara could be used as leverage against Aang by people trying to get to him. I mean, it already happened in canon.
And quite frankly, Aang was pretty useless at protecting Katara in that situation. Look at his face. Literal baby goo-goo-ga-ga shit. She’s lucky Fong wasn’t willing to actually kill her and that she was safely underground when Aang had his Spirit Tantrum because she would have been dead meat. So if your argument is that poor helpless little Katara would be sooooo much safer with Aang, I’m really not convinced.
If you’re going to decide who to ship Katara with based on who can protect her from danger the best, well…
I’m just saying 🤷🏻♀️🍵
#katara deserved better#zutara#kazula#katara#zuko#azula#atla#avatar the last airbender#ask#anon#fandom salt#canon critical#aang critical#meta
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does a show or movie being reactionary impact your enjoyment in it?
my cop out answer is that all commercial mass produced media is reactionary in some form or another so it’s impossible for me to evaluate a case in which it’s not reactionary. & also I primarily engage with art as a political object, I don’t really experience the type of artistic engagement I’ve heard people talk about (eg comfort watching, self-care watching, etc) so at the risk of sounding like a massive pretentious cunt I’m unable to not incorporate a show/movie’s politics into my evaluation and enjoyment of it. Star Wars for example is reactionary in many ways - I don’t necessarily enjoy it “in spite of” those elements, they are part of my enjoyment of it because they are part of ‘the text’ of Star Wars and removing/ignoring them would fundamentally alter Star Wars. Which doesn’t mean I agree with/endorse those things obviously, but I don’t know how to cordon them off from my enjoyment of SW if that makes sense. I feel like people usually talk about critical evaluation as a purely negative project, as always ‘taking away from’ their enjoyment, which has to sit outside of critical evaluation, which is not how I experience my own enjoyment of media
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I don’t think “the thing in March” is hard launch related and might just be another project, because Dan said either this scrapped video or touring is something Phil hasn’t done in a long time meaning they wouldn’t have been able to juggle both so im guessing they decided to wait it out
Okay so. At first I had the same thought as you and actually wrote a whole post about how it was gonna be a project and not a hard launch lol. But then I went back and watched the video again and I think it doesn’t necessarily have to be a project (though it could still be!). Dan phrased it a little confusingly (as always 💞) but I do think that when he said “this” was something that Phil hadn’t done in a while, he meant touring. Dan says they had one “idea [they] were gonna do” and then they were like “are we gonna go on tour.” I believe what he says after that is him talking about tour, so when he says it would be crazy, it’s something Phil hasn’t done in a while, etc., that’s all talking about the tour. Then Phil says he doesn’t know what Dan’s talking about, and then dan says “here we are in the timeline where we went on tour, and as for what the hell would’ve happened if dan and phil never did, you’ll find out in March.”
There are a few reasons why I don’t think it’s necessarily a different project:
Whatever got put on hold is something they’re still planning on doing, but phil doesn’t know what dan is talking about. And I just feel like, if it’s a project that they have lined up to announce in march, Phil would remember? Whereas if Dan is referring to coming out, it might not register in his mind immediately as “something that got scrapped”
For whatever reason, they felt like they needed to go on tour before this other thing happened. Let’s say it’s a project, wouldn’t it in some way make more sense to do that first because presumably they’d get even more engagement from it, thereby making their tour less risky? They’ve already talked about how they were surprised TIT tickets sold so fast and how excited ppl were/are for it. Doing a less-risky project beforehand would’ve put them in a better position to go on tour! So it’s really curious that they decided they couldn’t do this thing before the tour, but it needed to wait til after
“What the hell would have happened” is much different than “what would we have done/released” but dan does not always talk with the most precision so this one is loose lol
If dan thinks the reveal will happen only a month after the tour ends, it is either a one time thing or something that takes little prep but is ongoing (hence why it couldn’t be happening in the middle of tour, not able to juggle both like u said)
So anyway those are my thoughts. Like part of me feels like im clowning big time because it’s a tale as old as time to assume d&p are hard launching and then actually they’re doing something else. But it’s undeniable that the energy has been different lately. Plus I have been wrong about so many things in the past (them going on tour and them making full-fledged coming out videos just to name a few 😂) so hey. Maybe it’s time I just say the impossible is gonna happen
(My thoughts if it’s not a hard launch are podcast as others have suggested as it ticks the box for reason #4 I gave. I don’t think it’s a pet adoption (other theory I’ve seen ppl say) as I think it’s related to media (video/audio) in some way. Idk why Dan’s mind would go to dog when he heard “scrapped video”)
guys or maybe it’s amazingdan 3 ❤️ stranger things have happened
#the post is still in my drafts I got my hopes up for a sec and thought we were getting a phil solo proj :(#guys wait imagine it’s a doc like we all thought tit was gonna be#ask#anon#d&p#dan and phil#phan
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why do you continue to watch gmmtv shows when you clearly don’t enjoy them?
This is the kind of rude, cowardly anonymous ask that I would typically just delete, but I’m in the mood to be generous so I will respond and use it as an educational moment.
I have to start by rejecting your premise. I enjoy plenty of GMMTV shows. My favorite Thai bl of this year is Cherry Magic Thailand. I wrote quite lovingly about it on this hellsite for 12 weeks. I was also a big fan of Cooking Crush and The Trainee this year, Kidnap is giving me joy weekly, and I’m currently in the midst of a really interesting discussion with people far more mature than you about Peaceful Property. GMMTV is also responsible for some of my all time favorite Thai shows including Bad Buddy, 3 Will Be Free, Midnight Museum, Theory of Love, Moonlight Chicken, and Dark Blue Kiss, and many more besides that I liked a lot. You don't know me. You have made the mistake of assuming that because you’ve seen a small fraction of my posts about specific things, you know what I think about all kinds of things. But as my beloved departed grandfather loved to say, when you assume you make an ass out of u and me.
So with that out of the way, let’s get to the real question underneath your logical fallacy: why don’t I keep my mouth shut instead of posting about the flaws I observe in these shows? There are a number of reasons for that.
First, I am extremely open about the fact that I am interested in the art and science of narrative storytelling, and I often post about it from a critical lens. This is all in the pinned post at the top of my blog, but I doubt someone with your lack of manners bothered to look there before sending me this ask.
Second, I don’t believe in the popular fandom idea that all meta discussion of shows should be positive and centered on stanning for actors or pairs and their shows. That's a fine pursuit for folks who enjoy engaging with media that way, but I personally find that boring and intellectually empty, and have very little interest in it. I like to learn from the things I enjoy, and you can't learn if you're not willing to think critically about why something in a story may or may not be working.
Third, my favorite thing about watching media is discussing it with like-minded people, and the way to find like-minded people is to share your honest feelings about what you're watching. I have made some of the best friends of my life by posting my unfiltered thoughts about whatever I'm watching in various social media spaces, and having people come and say "hey, me too" or "I don't quite agree but what an interesting thought." We connect with others through sharing our thoughts and feelings. If you censor yourself in fandom spaces, you will not find your people.
Fourth, on the specific topic of GMMTV: they are the largest and best resourced ql-producing studio in the biggest ql-producing country, and part of a giant media conglomerate that controls much of the media in Thailand. Their shows matter in terms of the influence they have over the rest of the industry, and so the messages they send with their shows also matter. I will never ignore them completely even when I choose not to watch some of their shows, because where they go, the larger ql industry follows. When I see a trend in their shows that is harmful, like, say, the repeated use of marginalized identities for marketing their shows that they then disrespect in the way the stories are executed, that needs to be pointed out and examined, and I am hardly the only one doing so.
I'll end by asking you a question, anon: what did you hope to accomplish by sending me this ask? Unlike many of the other folks who have been engaging in critical discussion with me over the last couple days, you had nothing constructive to say. You didn't put forward an interpretation or share your own feelings, you didn't contribute to the collective analysis process, and you didn't offer any commiseration or even a clear disagreement with anything I said. From where I'm sitting, your only intent was to attempt to shame me for speaking. You will never be successful at that, and it's a pretty ugly impulse that you should examine in yourself. When you find yourself being awful to real human beings because you can't manage your emotions about fictional media, it's time to think about what you're doing here. I hope you'll reflect on that, and take good care.
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Santa Baby
pairing: Tyler owen’s x f! popstar girlfriend
The stage was bathed in warm, festive light as snowflakes made of glitter descended from the rafters. The audience buzzed with excitement, eagerly awaiting the star of the night. Y/N’s highly anticipated Christmas special was live, showcasing her new holiday album. Fans worldwide tuned in to witness her performance, and among them was her proudest supporter her boyfriend turned fiancé, Tyler Owens, seated in the front row.
Y/N’s voice soared through classic carols and original songs, each note wrapping the room in holiday magic. Dressed in a red velvet gown that shimmered under the lights, she was the picture of festive elegance. Her diamond necklace sparkled with every turn, but her smile was the true showstopper. Tyler leaned forward in his seat, utterly entranced, his blue eyes never leaving her.
Then came the moment that would be talked about for weeks. The band struck up the jazzy, slinky notes of Santa Baby, and the audience erupted into cheers. The curtains parted to reveal Y/N in a dazzling new outfit: a fitted red velvet bodice trimmed with soft white fur, paired with thigh-high boots and a sparkling Santa hat. She strutted across the stage, microphone in hand, her playful grin promising something extraordinary.
Tyler chuckled as she made eye contact with him, her flirty energy aimed directly his way. He shook his head, already knowing she was about to steal the show.
Her sultry voice filled the air:
Santa baby, slip a sable under the tree, for me…
The crowd swayed along, their energy building with every lyric. Y/N’s performance was captivating, her charm impossible to resist. Tyler’s grin grew wider as she playfully gestured toward him during the bridge:
Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight.
The audience roared with laughter and applause at her antics. Tyler, his face beaming with pride, clapped along, his eyes shining with admiration. But then, the atmosphere shifted as she reached the iconic line:
Santa baby, forgot to mention one little thing a ring…
Y/N paused dramatically, her voice trailing off as she raised her left hand. The spotlight caught it, making the enormous diamond engagement ring glitter like the North Star. Gasps and cheers erupted from the crowd, and Tyler froze, caught completely off guard. For a moment, he looked stunned, but then his face broke into the most radiant smile, his eyes glassy with emotion.
The cameras panned to him, capturing his reaction as he stood, clapping and laughing, his expression one of pure love and pride. Y/N flashed him a cheeky grin, finishing the line with a twist:
…and I don’t mean on the phone!
The theater exploded with applause. Y/N gave a playful twirl, blowing Tyler a kiss and mouthing, I love you. He returned it with a blown kiss of his own, shaking his head as if to say, You’re unbelievable.
By the time Y/N finished her set, the news had already gone viral. Social media lit up with clips of the performance, fans gushing over her flawless vocals and Tyler’s swooning reaction. Headlines blared:
“Pop Star Y/N Drops Engagement Bombshell During Christmas Special!”
“Tyler Owens and Y/N Are Officially Engaged And It’s the Holiday Surprise We Didn’t Know We Needed!”
The next morning, Tyler sat on the couch, scrolling through endless memes of his smitten expression. Y/N curled up beside him under a cozy blanket, her engagement ring catching the morning light.
“You really couldn’t wait to tell the world, huh?” he teased, showing her a tweet comparing him to a love-struck Hallmark movie character.
“What can I say?” she replied with a smirk. “I like making a statement.”
He leaned down, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Good. I want everyone to know I’m the luckiest man alive.”
Her smile softened as she laced her fingers with his. “Merry Christmas, Tyler.”
“Merry Christmas, future Mrs. Owens.”
That evening, as the snow continued to drift softly outside, they decided to celebrate their engagement with a romantic soak in the outdoor hot tub. The steam swirled into the crisp winter air, and the glow of the nearby fire pit illuminated the space, casting flickering shadows over the snow-covered patio.
Y/N stepped out onto the deck, wrapped in a plush robe, her cheeks rosy from the cold. Tyler was already in the tub, leaning back against the edge with his arms sprawled out, the muscles of his chest glistening from the rising steam. His blue eyes fixed on her with a heat that rivaled the bubbling water.
“Come on in, future Mrs. Owens,” he teased, his voice low and inviting.
Y/N smirked, dropping the robe to reveal her figure in a deep red bikini that matched the festive mood of the weekend. Tyler’s breath hitched, his gaze dragging over her like she was the only thing in the world.
“You’re staring,” she said playfully as she descended into the water, the warmth enveloping her instantly.
“Can you blame me?” he replied, his voice rough as he pulled her closer the moment she settled in. “Look at you. You’re stunning.”
She slid onto his lap, her legs straddling his waist, and wrapped her arms around his neck. The contrast of the hot water and the cool winter air made her shiver slightly, but Tyler’s hands on her hips quickly warmed her up.
“You’re not so bad yourself, Owens,” she murmured, trailing her fingers along his jawline.
Tyler chuckled, but it quickly turned into a groan when her lips brushed against his. The kiss started slow, a gentle exploration, but quickly deepened as the tension between them simmered into something hotter than the water surrounding them. His hands roamed her back, sliding lower as he held her firmly against him.
“You know,” he murmured against her lips, his voice thick with desire, “you completely ruined me last night with that performance.”
“Good,” she whispered, biting her lip as she looked at him. “I wanted to drive you crazy.”
“Mission accomplished,” he said, his grip tightening as he kissed her again, his lips moving down to her neck, trailing over her collarbone.
“Tyler,” she breathed, her voice a mix of a plea and a tease.
He pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his blue eyes blazing. “Say it again,” he murmured.
“Tyler,” she repeated, her hands framing his face as her lips brushed against his in the faintest of kisses.
“No,” he whispered, his smirk returning as his hands dipped into the water, pulling her closer. “The other thing. The thing I’ve been waiting to hear all day.”
She smiled, her heart thundering in her chest. “I love you, Mr. Owen
Tyler’s laughter rumbled through the air before he captured her lips again, the kiss slow, sensual, and filled with the kind of love that made the world stand still. And as snowflakes melted on their heated skin, they knew this was the start of a holiday season they’d never forget.
#tyler owen x f! reader#tyler owen’s x you#tyler owen x reader#tyler owen x fem reader#tyler owens x y/n#tyler owen’s#tyler owen#tyler owens x reader#tyler owens#glen powell fluff#glen powell fanfic#glenn powell#glen powell x reader#glen powell
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What’re your bakudeku hcs?
honestly what are they NOT lmao
izuku cannot cook to save his life but he always feels slightly guilty because katsuki is always cooking them food, so every now and then katsuki will let him cook them lunch for work the next day and if anyone even gives a sideways glance at how truly awful their food smells during lunch, katsuki will glare daggers into them while taking mouthfuls of the stuff. he just loves to see the proud smile on izukus face when he finishes the entire meal raving about how good it was.
the one thing izuku is good at making is bread, even better than katsuki (katsuki is still totally the better bread baker but AGAIN he lies and claims he’s not great at it because he is in love and a simp for izuku and loves to make his boy happy)
katsuki took night classes on massage therapy during their lasy year at UA because he knows how bad izuku's hands and arms hurt (ESPECIALLY when the weather changes) and the only way he knows how to fix it is by massaging them. (he literally has to force izuku to sit down and let him because he’ll deny it till he’s blue in the face that he's in any pain)
they have codependency issues so bad after the war that they’re literally inseparable for WEEKS before adults intervene and force them into therapy. like they have some part of their body touching each other at all times type of separation anxiety. (the final straw was when aizawa walked into the dorm kitchen to find katsuki giving izuku a piggyback ride while he walked all about in the kitchen trying to cook dinner for the class. izuku was passed out taking a nap during the whole ordeal.)
katsuki always washes izukus hair and does his curly hair haircare routine because no matter how many time he takes izuku through it, he always manages to fuck it up on his own.
Izuku pretends to be bad at it on purpose because he loves katsuki washing his hair he finds it hilarious that katsuki hasn’t figured it out yet
katsuki knows
they never outright confirm to the media if they’re dating or not, they don’t do PDA a whole lot, but they’re close enough that questions and rumors run wild. even when the media outright asks them they’re so vague it’s actually annoying
‘dynamight, what are your feelings towards deku?’ ‘right now? pretty fucking pissed he took down the villain right as I was closing in on him. took all the lime light away from me, the fucker.’
'hero deku! how are you and dynamight going to celebrate his new ranking in the hero chart? I'm sure it's going to be... explosive.' 'I think we're all going out with our former class mates for dinner or drinks or something. And kacchan is really good at controlling his quirk, so there's not going to be any unnecessary explosions, thats why he made it into the top 10!'
they are literally REQUIRED by their government issued therapist to not engage in PDA because:
1. their therapist is damn good at their job and knows the media coverage and public opinion on their relationship will send the pair of them into a tailspin and
2. engaging in PDA will increase their codependency issues
They have a love-hate relationship with their therapist
the first time they argue after they get together is literally over groceries. because katsuki and izuku didn’t have any semblance of a friendship when they got to their teen years, katsuki didn’t see the midoriyas growing struggle with money. so when bakugo comes back from the store spending an extortionate amount on groceries that should've cost like ¥20,000 and he comes back having spent over ¥70,000 , izuku goes on an anxiety induced lecture about how careless katsuki was with their money, katsuki gets PISSED because he’s not careless and it spirals out of control until izuku finally burst out with ‘what are we gonna eat when all the food runs out and we have no more money’ and then, shocked and having no idea where izuku would that impression from has them sit down to have a conversation (okay actually i need someone to make this into a fic. shit i think i might make this into fic)
katsuki has a soft spot for mange-y and abandoned cats and will bring them home and take care of them until they're fully healed before rehoming them.
Izuku would never tell katsuki this, but he is very allergic to cats. He would rather die though than tell him and ruin his rehoming hobby.
izukus guilty pleasure is trash reality tv. (im talking like KUWTK and jersey shore type of trash reality tv) katsuki rolls his eyes at it and will tease izuku over it, but izuku will always find him standing behind the couch watching it while izuku is binging watching the episodes he's missed.
katsuki's love language is definitely words of affirmation but like done in the right way (aka the deku way) and physical touch (and also acts of service but it really depends on the person and the day)
izukus is acts of service and quality time (literally, katsuki will just sit next to him on the couch and let him ramble and ramble about what ever is in his notebook or on his mind for hours and izuku gets so much joy and love from that one small action)
i will fight tooth and nail for this take but katsuki is NOT the space heater everyone thinks he is. he's got very warm hands because of his quirk but out of the pair of them, izuku is the hot box when they're sleeping.
even though one of katsuki's love languages is physical touch he doesn't like people touching him or being in his personal space. besides izuku, the only other person allowed in his personal space is surprisingly todoroki
here's just a few headcanons i have. i'll probably add to this at different points because i definitely have more i just haven't ever written them down before
#spideyasks#midoriya izuku#bakugou katsuki#bkdk headcanons#bkdk#bakudeku#bakudeku headcanons#bnha#mha#my hero academia#boku no hero academia
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In Defense of Charlie x Vaggie:
Hazbin Hotel is far from a perfect show. I quite enjoyed it, of course, but that doesn’t mean that it lacks significant issues (not that I mind, nothing is perfect, and I believe people should be allowed to enjoy flawed media). One such complaint that I see often is that the show’s “main couple,” protagonist Charlie and her girlfriend Vaggie, are “boring,” or that they “lack chemistry.”
Personally, for me, the relationship between these two ended up being one of, if not my favourite part of the show. I’ll admit my bias that as a lesbian myself, I’m always a sucker for any kind of wholesome sapphic relationship that I can get in the media. Even so, though, these two stood out to me particularly well.
And while, yes, I can absolutely see why their dynamic isn’t the most favorable to some people, I don’t think it’s correct to say that the writers “can’t write meaningful relationships” or “don’t understand love” (which are both real comments that I’ve seen whilst I’ve been a part of this fandom).
The first and most blatant criticism that I come across is that the two are rarely affectionate with each other, and while this seems to be the case at first glance, I can’t help but disagree. Though we rarely see the pair actively kissing or engaging in other activities that one would perceive as romantic, it’s clear that they find comfort in each other’s presence, even if it’s subtle.
Throughout season 1, the viewer is shown numerous instances of Charlie especially being comforted by her lover’s touch. For example, while Charlie is on the phone with her father, Lucifer, at the beginning of episode 5, we can observe that she is clearly anxious about the interaction. When it’s clear that Charlie is getting stressed, Vaggie opts to take her hand, and it can be inferred from her expression in the moment that Charlie appreciates this gesture, even if she finds herself preoccupied.
Keen-eyed watchers of the series will notice that the two are frequently seen in contact with each other, or at least in close proximity, implying a love language related to physical touch. However, while frequent, some argue that these little exchanges aren’t enough to sell the idea that the couple are truly involved with each other.
People seem to be disappointed that we don’t get to see any more intimate or outwardly romantic interactions between the pair outside these small snippets or the More than Anything reprise (which in truth was unfortunately very short). But in my personal opinion, I think this dynamic makes them even more compelling. Sure, they may not be the most affectionate of partners while on screen, but I never needed them to be in order to be convinced of their love for each other.
Keep in mind, Charlie and Vaggie have been together for years, they’re out of the honeymoon phase. They’re also both incredibly busy people, especially with the updated, much sooner extermination date introduced in episode 1. As much as it sucks, doing cute stuff with their respective partner probably isn’t their priority.
The beauty of this, though, is that despite it all you can still feel their love. Vaggie would do anything for her girlfriend, and she does. Their relationship is built on such genuine, wholesome trust and support for each other.
You can tell from the way they look at each other, and from the way they talk to each other, that even despite the chaos and despite the time, they are in love. So much so that even a potentially devastating reveal like Vaggie’s true identity is nothing more than a speed bump for them. It’s really quite lovely to see.
That’s why I can excuse the atrociously short run time of their duet, it’s their first moment of peace in months, and possibly their last ever, they don’t have time to do much, and yet they choose to spend this time declaring their love for one another, because they are still the most important things in each other’s lives. It’s so blatantly clear that their love is genuine, in this moment and outside of it.
I personally feel as though, in the world of the show, the relationship between Charlie and Vaggie is very realistic given the situation they’re in, and if I’m being honest, they have the kind of relationship that I myself would love to have.
In short, I understand why some people don’t like this pairing. I can understand liking other things better, and I don’t dislike anyone who does. I can understand wanting more from it, and hey, I’d appreciate it if they sprinkled in a few extra kisses next season just to feed the fans, but that doesn’t mean that what’s there doesn’t already exist. In my opinion, I think Vaggie x Charlie is beautifully written.
There are honestly so many other little things I could bring up about why I love these two so much. You are, of course, welcome to disagree, but I encourage those who do to avoid harassing those who contributed to the writing of Hazbin Hotel, or those who actually do appreciate this aspect of the show.
However, I also insist that people try to look beyond the surface, to see the detail and the beauty of this pairing, as well as other aspects of the show, or other pieces of media.
Because art is beautiful.
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