#and I don't know if I can unsee it...
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wanderlust-in-my-soul · 1 year ago
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Playboyy The Series - Epsiode 2
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vingler-mirror · 1 month ago
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So let's talk about the lyrics Isolde and Kakania were singing at the end of "Through the Glass"!
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As the story described, Isolde was singing a part of the opera "Tristan und Isolde," specifically the part where Isolde is waiting for her rendezvous with Tristan.
In this part, Isolde ignores the calling of horns that signals the arrival of King Marke—the king she's supposed to marry—, insisting that it's just the rustling of the wind or the trickling of the stream, even though her maid tells her over and over that it IS the sound of the horns and the king is nearby.
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In our Isolde case, I think we can interpret the call of horns as symbolizing the reality that Isolde doesn't hear—or rather, doesn't want to hear. Because "the calling of horns does not sound so sweet" compared to "the silence of the night" (the peaceful dream she doesn't want to wake up from), and the promise of meeting with "He who is waiting for me in the silence of the night," which—I think we can agree—is Kakania in her dream.
And unlike the "run away with me, Cavaradossi" scene, this time Kakania responded with her part!
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Or at least... in the loose sense of it, because the part Kakania chose to sing skipped a lot of events ahead from Isolde's part, which is very interesting! Isolde's lines are from Act 2, while Kakania's are from Act 3: after the king catches Tristan and Isolde in the middle of their rendezveous, Tristan gets stabbed by his betraying friend, and he wakes up with a severe injury that will kill him very soon.
I think this might be intentional—to symbolize that Isolde is stuck in the past, in the happiest moments of her life, while Kakania is facing the reality of the present, in the aftermath of everything that has happened to them.
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Unlike Isolde, who sang her part faithfully to the opera, Kakania took the full creative liberty of only singing a few lines from Tristan's part and straight up skipping the rest of it. Which is a bit disappointing at first (the time she actually played along with the opera act and she didn't even do it properly, smh), but this means that every single line she sang was deliberately chosen to convey what she wanted to say to Isolde!
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I interpreted the first part of the lines as her expressing how lost she felt after the Storm washed away their era. She fully expected to get reversed by the Storm to atone for her sins, and now that she's left as the only survivor, she has no place nor people to return to. Her life, her purpose, the dream she worked on all her life, and the people she strived that dream for... all gone. She no longer knows where she's standing in the world and what lies ahead for her.
We can also interpret this as Kakania responding to Isolde, who was singing and waiting for Kakania as her "Tristan," saying that she can't meet her in fear of triggering Isolde's trauma and making her condition worse.
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And the second part... is Kakania's resolve, that even if everything has changed, even if she's stranded with no era to return to, she will still stay on her path of striving to the betterment of the world, of trying to fix "the cracked mirror" no matter how fragile and broken it is. Back then, by fighting for the rights of arcanists and the other "outsiders" in Vienna, and now by doing all she can to help with the Storm.
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...and this also means goodbye. Because Isolde chose to stay in the past, and Kakania, who took a different path, respected Isolde's wish and headed on alone into the future.
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But goodbyes don't always last forever. And as Kakania said at the end of her story:
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medicinemane · 9 months ago
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You know... watching a tv show via a streaming service really kinda... makes you realize how much the art of it is constrained by the medium; specifically ad breaks
Like, they actively disrupt the flow of things because they need a chance to insert commercials, and even if you're not watching it with commercials, there's something forever built in to the timing of the show that's specifically for those commercials
The entire pacing of the show is forced to be warped around it and it's not like that can every be changed cause... show's been shot
Just kinda sucks you know? That cause of toyota or pepsi or all the other pricks who gotta run the ads, a whole lot of shows (good and bad) have ended up having to build in this concession
No grand narrative here, it's just a little bit ass
#I know I sometimes talk about this thing that I've picked up with writing which I refuse to infect anyone else with#this secret aesthetic rule that ever since I noticed I can't unnotice it and it's just a pain in the ass extra layer to think about#well I'll say that this post has very nicely conformed to what I'm looking for#I'm over all quite pleased... my one complaint is if only I could find a way to make that last sentance end around 'have'#that's the length I'd want it; but getting the words across always has to come first#...but this is why I don't share what's going on in my head here#cause I don't want anyone else to be sitting their writing and thinking#can I shorten 'There's no grand narrative I have here; I just think it's kinda ass'#down to that first 'have' while still keeping the meaning similar?#cause I'm about to give it a thought because that would make this post so much better...#hmm... yes; I did it and I think I managed to keep a similar meaning and now it's much better... though...#maybe if I lengthen the previous paragraph just a little that would be a smidge better#looks very nice now; what a huge waste of time; this is why I don't tell you what I'm trying to do#once I saw it as important I couldn't unsee it; a post mentioned it#you probably wouldn't get as focused on it; but like... let's just not contaminate you#and it's not like some fun conspiracy forbidden knowledge#it's just a dumb aesthetic choice I've started caring about#mm tag so i can find things later
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professional-bulshitter · 1 year ago
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I- i don't think we talk about the man with stones(?) (are they precious? as in money wise,, not sentimentally 💀) in his mouth shaped like the diagram of the female reproductive system enough,,, because
(this is from season 1 episode 1 btw,,, i was rewatching :)) )
(the second picture is one of the female reproductive systems that was pretty similar to my old textbook so 💀🤷‍♀️)
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i mean it could be a hammer (maybe?) but?? what the fuck is going on?? is this also a part of the ineffable plan?? why is this the thing that caught my attention and now refuses to leave my mind??
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set-wingedwarrior · 1 year ago
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I have this feeling that I am going to hide in my university much more and much longer just to avoid my roomate because she's really stressing me out
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chocolate-cream-soldier · 1 year ago
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:/
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wifeyoozi · 6 months ago
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mingyu & wonwoo : Still stuffed, one shot, double kill
w.c : 3.1 k ┊ synopsis : boyfriends mingyu and wonwoo give their bestfriend more than you could have bargained for, but you are not complaining┊ content warning : smut , best friends to lovers sorta, bisexual threesome (m/m/f) , oral sex (f + m rec) , edging , hard dom (top) wonu + sub (bottom) gyu + sub reader , slight size kink , (idrk what its called but ig sandwich sex?) , anal (m rec) a/n : note that depiction of mingyu and wonwoo as bisexual is just for the entertainment of this fic and I do not intend to impose any sexuality on them irl. also I was absolutely wasted drunk when I wrote this so I don't even know just nasty threesome.
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it was just another video game night with wonwoo and mingyu. it was at your house, like always, because you had a gaming system installed in your bedroom instead of the living room unlike wonwoo and mingyu's shared apartment. and all three of you agreed that the bed was more comfortable to spread out and sit on while gaming.
you yelped from the right side of the bed, having won yet another round (well, technically you came second, but at least you won against mingyu). the screen in front showed the game over slide once again. you sighed and got of the bed to stretch your libs a little.
"i'm getting more beer," you announced seeing all three of your cans empty already, "y'all need anything else?"
"some snacks would be great!" mingyu called out. you took the empty cans to dispose off and left the bedroom.
you, mingyu and wonwoo have been best friends forever. you and mingyu had been childhood friends since you were neighbours. you met wonwoo in highschool and decided immediately to make him part of your little gang. the friendship remained as solid as it could throughout school and college.
wonwoo and mingyu had started dating around last year after pinning over each other for almost 2 years until mingyu asked wonwoo out for a date finally and wonwoo agreed shyly. you knew both boys were in some part of the bisexual spectrum and them dating didn't change a thing in your friendship. you were happy for them and rooted for them all the time, but you'd lie if you were to say you weren't a little jealous. you just wished you had someone to take care of you the way they did of each other. of course, they took care of you almost as well as a boyfriend would, but its been so long since your last relationship that you need more than just care.
meanwhile, mingyu and wonwoo had started making out on your bed in your absence, kissing nastily with wet noises enveloping the room. "mingyu, stop, y/n is gonna come soon," wonwoo whisper yells when he felt mingyu's hand get frisky over his sweatpants.
"i can't help it baby. you're so hot, winning every round like that. you deserve some reward," mingyu argues and wonwoo can't the sound that escapes his throat when mingyu latches his mouth on his neck, "besides, its been so long, i can barely keep away from you."
wonwoo chuckle, "we fucked last night."
"my point, its so long already," mingyu said sucking a hickey on wonwoo's neck. they were too lost in their own world to notice the door opening.
"uhm, guys?" you didn't mean to interrupt them, but you were also not exactly sure what you were supposed to do seeing them make out like animals in heat on your bed. it was hot to see them frisky like that, you had never before seen them get like this, but you had to remind yourself that it was not appropriate to think of your two best friends like that.
"o-oh! y/n! we're so sorry-" wonwoo stumbled to say, pulling away from mingyu and adjusting his glasses back up.
you didn't exactly know how to react. for one, it was difficult to unsee the growing bulges in both boys' pants. it wont be very easy to continue the game again after having that image in your mind. the beer you have had has made you a little horny - its an effect alcohol seems to have on you always - and your hot gay bestfriends weren't making it easier for you.
"whatchu thinking 'bout?" mingyu asks in a more teasing tone, seeing you malfunctioning and just standing in your place like a broken machine, "thinking 'bout joining us?"
mingyu was smacked on his arm by his boyfriend, "gyu! be nicer!"
"what? its not the worst idea," mingyu says, rubbing the spot he'd been hit on, "i remember her mentioning her interest in threesomes last time we got drunk at joey's. besides, i know you find her really hot, you'd love it too, right? i see this as a win-win!"
"i-i never said that!"
"oh but your eyes say it all, baby. i've seen how you check out her ass all the time. i am not complaining, don't worry, i do find her really hot too." mingyu was smacked again.
"boys, boys! what are y'all talking about?" you were dumbfounded. wonwoo checks out your ass!? mingyu finds you hot!? that's some great information to digest. wonwoo and mingyu share glances, as if speaking more than that you can hear with their eyes alone
"say, y/n, i'm horny, nonu is horny, and you could join us if you like, no pressure, but we'd really make it worth your time," mingyu says, looking back at you.
"you don't have to if you don't want to. you could say no and we'd never speak of it again," wonwoo adds.
you think about it seriously. on one hand you were really arounsed and your bestfriends' bulging sizes against their respective pants were sending blood to your crotch and they just offered you for a threesome. then on the other hand, your conscience said it was morally wrong to do this.
fortunately for you and your throbbing pussy, you had just the right amount of alcohol in your system to put your morals aside.
"okay, what the hell," you mumble and jump on the bed between the two, pulling them both by the collar. mingyu giggles as he pins you down and connects his lips to yours instantly. you feel two pairs of hands exploring your body, feeling you up and messing with your clothes. mingyu ravishes your mouth with his tongue, kissing you wet and dirty.
you are surprised when wonwoo pushes aside mingyu's head to take his turn to kiss you. you whine into his mouth, feeling the sudden change. wonwoo can taste mingyu in your mouth still, and the mixed flavours with the taste of your mouth turn him on incredibly. if you thought mingyu was a dirty kisser, wonwoo was worse. his spit was all over the places as he kissed you hungrily and open-mouthedly, and you absolutely loved it.
it must be visible on your face because mingyu chuckled at you, already taking off his clothes, "i should warn you, y/n, wonwoo may look shy and innocent with his nerdy glasses, but he is a complete freak in bed. he is a literal sex monster."
you gasped at mingyu's words. wonwoo took the opportunity to stick his tongue deep down your throat, making you almost choke. then suddenly, it was gone. wonwoo pulled back from you, making you chase his lips, but he pushed you down. he sat up on the bed, taking off his t-shirt, making you whine as he did it all so slowly.
"mingyu, take off her clothes."
mingyu obeyed so. your shirt was pulled off you, your bra taken off at a speed that your think the clasps must've broken, and your shorts yanked off. you felt cold and exposed out in the air, so you tried to approach mingyu to kiss you again, heat your body with his again. but your hair was pulled, making you fall back on the bed with a gasp.
"did i say you could kiss him already?" wonwoo's eyes were dark, and you were scared of him in a hot way which made you want to obey everything he says like a little obedient slut. you were leaking so bad from his strong demeanor, you were sure they both could see the huge dark spot on your panties.
wonwoo leaned by your ears, and whispered softly, "if i make you uncomfortable with my words or action, you can tell me to stop, yeah?"
you nodded, but you didn't plan to. if anything, you wanted him to keep acting meaner to you. you didn't know you would be into being dominated like this until now.
wonwoo snaps at mingyu after that, "open her legs up, kiss her thighs." mingyu does just that, slowly spreading you knees apart and placing buttery wet kisses long your thighs, nearing to your core. you cannot make out if the sound he makes is a laugh or a moan against your soft thighs when he sees how wet you are.
wonwoo snakes his hand down to your breasts, grabbing one in each hand and slowly kneading the flesh. "take her panties off," wonwoo commands mingyu and he does so. "lick her up. she's making a mess, lick all her juices up."
mingyu licks a flat strip along your pussy, his tongue dipping into your folds. wonwoo helps him, reaches a hand to open your outer labia with two fingers, and properly gives mingyu access. mingyu licks a long strip from your slit to your clit and you let out loud whorish moans to let it be known how much you love this.
"squeeze his head with your thighs, he likes that," wonwoo tells you and you comply with him without even thinking. you press your thighs to mingyu's ears, enough to for him to feel the pressure but not so much you'd hurt him. but that's not what wonwoo wants. "more," he he tells you, and you squeeze your thighs tighter around his head until, --
oh. mingyu moaned over your cunt, and you felt the vibrations. wonwoo smirked when he heard it too. he grabbed a hold of mingyu's short hair tightly and pushed his head deeper into your cunt. you understand now. mingyu likes being hurt like this. he likes being controlled by wonwoo. you couldn't hear what wonwoo said next, lost in the thoughts when you suddenly felt a tongue dart into your cunt, earning a choked moan from your lips.
wonwoo leaned down to kiss your nipples, sucking on them and licking them up like a hungry cat. your hands reached over his head, lacing your fingers through his soft hair. you were close already and both the boys could sense it from the way your moans got more erratic and your thighs trembled.
you were just about to reach your high when wonwoo grabbed mingyu's head and pushed him away from your cunt. a cry left your lips, your cunt spasming and clenching around nothing with all sensations gone. you felt tears filling up your eyes as wonwoo leaned down and kissed your lips.
"there, there. it wasn't that bad now, was it? i know a pretty girl like you can take better," wonwoo's words were comforting, as his hands rubbed circles on the side of your hips, but his tone was awfully teasing and it just made you want to cry harder.
wonwoo instructed mingyu to sit up on the bed against the headboard and got you on all fours in front of him so your face was to mingyu and ass to wonwoo who was preparing his dick behind you. mingyu's dick was red and hard against his belly, but he wouldn't dare touch it without wonwoo's instructions. mingyu and wonwoo were a little similar in sizes, you noticed (and it made your mouth salivate), except mingyu was thicker than wonwoo and the latter was longer.
it was more so of a punishment for you too, to just watch his painfully erect dick and not put it in your mouth. hell, you couldn't even kiss his pretty pink pouty lips until wonwoo said you could. you had only spent twenty minutes with wonwoo and mingyu in bed, but you already knew the rules of this game. you knew wonwoo was in charge of everything and you should obey everything he says, otherwise the consequences could be harsh. and that turned you on incredibly.
wonwoo played with his dick, sliding along the length of your slit, teasing you. "wonu, please," you whimpered needily.
"hm? did you say something?" wonwoo said in a fake tone, landing a smack on your ass, only to rub the spot soothingly soon after, "its difficult to hear with this beautiful pussy in front of my eyes."
you whined again, tears falling down your cheeks. mingyu was smirking at you, as if he was in any better position than you with his throbing untouched dick.
"daddy, please, fuck me," you whimpered at wonwoo.
the latter chuckled, slowly pushing his head into your cunt, already prepped and stretched by mingyu's tongue before. "shit, you're so fucking needy. just a needy little slut, arent you? don't worry, i'll fill your pussy up."
he set a high speed for you. you gasp and almost fall face-flat on the bed, only to be held up by mingyu. mingyu's other hand clutched the sheets, trying his best not to lose control. he liked being a good boy for wonwoo. the rough punishment-fuck was good, yes, but he loved the way wonwoo praised him and rewarded him better. besides, he had to be a good role model for you.
wonwoo could see the desperation on his boyfriend's face, and chuckled, deciding he deserved a treat. "mingyu has been a really good boy, don't you think, y/n? why don't you blow his dick, hm?"
wonwoo pushed your head down till your mouth was on mingyu's dick. you licked a long strip lengthwise on his erection, testing and teasing. mingyu let out a guttarial moan and you took his dick inside your mouth as far as it could go. wonwoo wasn't satisfied with your mediocre efforts, and pushed your head till you swallowed all of mingyu.
you forced your gag reflexes to relax as mingyu's head hit the back of your throat. with wonwoo's relentless speed, your head bobbed over mingyu's dick from inertia alone, not having to do a lot of work. mingyu's thighs started convulsing soon and both of you were near to your edge already. you thought if you don't let it show you were close, wonwoo wouldn't notice until you're actually cumming and he wouldn't be able to edge you a second time.
it was risky, but you really wanted to cum already.
unfortunately for you, mingyu was too obedient to his boyfriend to cum down your throat without asking first.
"wonu, i'm close," he whined, making wonwoo pull your head off mingyu by your hair, making you whine loudly. you whined even louder when wonwoo exited you without giving you the release you needed.
"you are really noisy, y'know that?" wonwoo tells you teasingly. "good for you, i love hearing your sweet voice. stay in your position. mingyu come back here."
mingyu stands up on weak legs and kneels on the edge of the bed in front of your ass, his dick the perfect height to your entrance. wonwoo took a hold of his lover's dick and slowly pushed it in you again. you gasped at the unexpected intrusion. "hold her hips, baby, or she'll fall. she's so weak, you gotta help her. now, don't move yet, be patient."
mingyu stays still, painfully deep inside you. you loved the stretch from his dick. you could almost feel his tip brush against your sweet spot - if only he'd move a little and hit it with force.
you heard a whimper from mingyu, making you look back over your shoulder. your eyes widened, seeing wonwoo fingering mingyu from the back, two fingers deep already, preparing him. you realised what was about to come instantly. you turned your back and waited in anticipation, knowing that the best blow will come with the surprise of it.
you couldn't be more right because as soon as wonwoo's hips snapped against mingyu's, mingyu's snapped against yours, going balls deep. the feeling was extreme, one of a kind, and thrilly. mingyu's dick hit every right spot at every hit, making you reach cloud nine with the feeling. if not for mingyu's hands supporting your hips, you would have fallen down already with how weak your limbs felt.
the room sounded really filthy with the rhythmic double slapping of skins mixed with your moans, mingyu's whimpers and wonwoo's groans. but certainly mingyu was having the best time among you three, with his prostrate being abused by his boyfriend's dick on one end and having his dick swallowed by his best friend's pussy on the other. his eyes were rolling back and his throat ached with the loud noises it created. he was close a second time and he let his boyfriend know of it.
"cum on her pretty ass," wonwoo said, marking his sentence with a loud smack of his hand on mingyu's ass, making the latter cry. just as instructed, mingyu exited you before cumming ropes of white semen in your ass. "such a good puppy. now help her cum too. use your fingers on her clit."
mingyu's fingers found their way to your sensitive clit, rubbing in circular motions. you barely took any time before you were squirting, wetting the bed under you with a cry. you let your body fall on the bed and turn on your back so you could embrace mingyu, who fell right on top of you. wonwoo had slowed his speed a little to let his lover come down from his high at a relaxed pace without overstimulating him.
you kissed mingyu and mingyu kissed you, both finding comfort in the wet warmth of the other's mouth. the sight was oddly a turn-on for wonwoo, who soon came deep inside mingyu's ass, giving him a creampie as he exited. mingyu rolled over on the bed beside you, eyes closed shut from the tiredness.
you vaguely saw wonwoo get up and leave to the bathroom before your own eyes fell shut. you were sleepy already, it's probably past your usual bedtime. you barely registered being wiped clean with a warm and wet towel before being dressed in your pajama shorts and a loose tshirt. when your eyes opened wonwoo was doing the same to mingyu, kissing him on the top of his head after.
mingyu rolled to his side and snuggled against you sleepily, making you giggle softly while wonwoo got himself a pair of grey shorts to put on. wonwoo pouted and mumbled something under his breath before he snuggled on your other side. both the boys practically sandwiched you, with your back to wonwoo and front to mingyu.
you saw as the boyfriends shared a goodnight kiss, the sweetness dripping, making you smile for them. then mingyu looked at you with pouted lips, and you muttered a me too? before he pressed a kiss to your lips. you giggled as wonwoo picked your cheek as goodnight too.
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"so, uhm, is this a thing now? we ... three?"
"it could be, if you like."
"i think i'd like it, it be great."
"this is so perfect, my cute little boyfriend and my cute little girlfriend." mingyu chuckled.
"i'm not little!" you and wonwoo whined simultaneously.
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lailau7904 · 1 month ago
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So y'all have seen the Williams F1 Logo before, yeah?
well get ready, becaues I am about to ruin your day!
where does one even begin with this. i am sorry in advance. -just a poor learning graphic design student, who simply tried to enjoy their saturday evening
The Logo
For anyone that doesn't know, here's the Williams F1 Logo. Entirely unedited, copied straight from Wikipedia:
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Now like many fans, I actually quite enjoy this logo. I like the modern, sharp edges of it and it's simple yet intriguiging design. It's memorable, while also easily recognizable as a W. I also really enjoy the colour choice (this, however, is entirely a personal preference.)
(entire rant under the cut. please keep reading this took years off my life span.)
How did we even get here?
Let's start at the beginning. How did we even get here? Well I, a poor poor learning graphic designer, was watching this lovely video from Mr. V's Garage about bad F1 Logo's over the past 35 or so seasons. Very interesting, I can only recommend it (but you don't need to watch the video to understand this post)!
Now, to cleanse the palette at the end of the video, Mr. V included a top 10 GOOD logos from this time span, it was very kind of him.
On P4 of this "Good List," Mr. V placed the current Williams F1 Logo, as pictured above. At first I vaguely agreed with this, believing that he probably simply hadn't noticed one of the things that's been bothering me about that Logo since the first time I saw it up close.
The first sign of Trouble
So, what is this mystery issue, you might ask?
It's simple really. You don't necessarily notice it at a first glance, but something about that logo seems off. Taking a second longer, you may notice it yourself.
No, I mean it, take a minute and go look at the logo. It looks wonky as hell, doesn't it?
Well I can tell you the first thing that I personally noticed. The arms of the W aren't in line with the bottom half, see:
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(Graphic by @girlrussell who was so kind to let me use it, as it is way prettier than the one I made)
It's a crooked W. There is no good explanation for this. The rest of the font is perfectly fine, geometrical shapes.
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Anyway, the good person that I am I went to point this out to my partner ( @leftneb ) who proceeded to inform me that he, infact, was not aware about this and was, quote, "never going to unsee that."
Now, the good FRIEND that I am, I, of course, proceeded to rush into our broader F1 friendgroup to make them suffer for eternity.
What's the logical next step to take? Of course, fix the logo in Adobe Photoshop, you know, as a joke.
(Disclaimer at this point, I am not necessarily the biggest fan of Williams Management Team. I enjoy ALL their drivers this season. I do NOT enjoy James Vowels. Be warned.)(Also I am aware that he probably did not have an influence on the logo)
Trying to fix it. Oh god, I was so innocent back then
Trying to fix the logo in Photoshop is the worst mistake I could've made. THE worst path to take. I could've just giggled about making my friends suffer (which I succeeded in, by the way) and moved on. Instead I ruined a perfectly good Saturday evening, and for what? I don't know anymore.
Anyway, how was I gonna go about fixing the logo in the simplest way possible? Simplest way I could come up with: slap the thing in Photoshop and put two, mirrored boxes at each side to make the sides line up. Small issue, how do I make the thing actually even? Fix: line them up at the intersecting point with the bottom tips of the W.
Here's the result:
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Hey, anyone care to explain to me why in THE LORDS NAME the arms are different sized? I mean, surely they weren't before. Surely, certainly, I must've messed up.
I double, I tripple checked. I made sure everything was lined up and made sense. But no.
It just couldn't be. Something was uneven in this logo, something even deeper. Something I could not have predicted when first taking a closer look. It was at this point I realized I had messed up. What rabbit hole had I stumbled across? Certainly, it couldn't get much worse.
And that's when I noticed.
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(pictured above; my genuine reaction)
There's MORE? (oh god, the top isn't lined up)
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I couldn't believe my eyes. This is the PINNACLE of the sport, and THIS was the logo of one of the competing teams? I mean, yeah, we have a Visa Cash App RB or a Kick Sauber or even a MoneyGram Haas which are all terrible logos, but at least they're CLEAN. (this has not been checked. If anyone wishes to ruin a nice Saturday evening, feel free to check them and tell me how wrong I was in the previous statement!)
But you can see that there is no end in sight for this post. I'm sure you're as scared as I was at this point. By now we were sitting in VC, discussing the horribleness of this logo. I had long informed my irl's about this, who take said design classes with me. And it was one of them who pointed out the next thing that had been bothering me, but I had not been able to put a finger on up to this point.
thE DISTANCE, HOW DID THEY FUCK IT?
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I'm afraid I have to confirm your fears.
Yes, those lines are the same length. According to Photoshop, they're on the same level as well, so no flunking with angles.
The gaps of the arms to the main W are not the same. They're differently sized gaps.
It was clear to us, this logo is inherintely flawed. They're subtle issues, but once you pay attention you start to notice things. It all looks slightly wonky and off centre. And eventually, you get paranoid, and start comparing other angles and sizes. And you will keep finding things. This has ruined my life.
HOOOOOW
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Honestly, I don't even know what to say. Yes, yes sadly those lines, too, are the same length. Just copied over from one side to the other and layed over on the same height. I admit, they're not layed over perfectly. I was honestly holding back tears at this point. But the point still stands, you can clearly see a difference in width.
Honestly, the only way I can explain it is that at some point there was a mess up of distance or proportions and whoever was designing the logo couldn't pin it down and tried to restore the visual balance by making manual adjustments. And in all honesty? They kinda did a good job, if that's what's happened. I mean, you notice the crookedness of the arms, and then maybe the difference in height, but the rest you probably will not notice if you don't spend too much time staring at it. (like some of us) And even those issues clearly aren't noticeable to the vast majority, considering I had to go point it out to a group chat for my friends at least to notice.
what the fuck is THAT?
Now, the thing about doing this investigative work of prooving a team you dislike is worse in more aspects than you previously thought, is that you do a lot of zooming in. And zooming in means you might notice bits that yours eyes simply overlooked before, because they were too small.
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Here you can witness the top of the middle point, that, for whatever reason, really wants to touch the top border of the Logo. I'm relatively certain that's the highest few pixel in the entire graphic, considering earlier chapter "There's MORE?" I have no idea why it looks like that or why they thought it was necessary for it to not end in a clean point.
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I just actually have no idea how to even describe what is going on on the top of the left arm. That left hand side, again, touches the side and is therefore the most-left-pixel in the graphic. I, once again, have no idea the purpose of this. However the RIGHT hand side also makes no sense, as it is the most prominent corner in the whole logo. There's pointed corners, and rounded OF corners, but nothing that is trying to form it's own colony in a distant land that hopefully isn't this god awful logo. I hope that blob gets away. I really do. You go king.
i'm loosing my mind
Anyway, the only reason I could come UP with those weird "reachy-outy-bits" was to establish the dimensions of the logo? But if that was the case, I don't understand why they managed to keep all the other potentially border touching corners clean?
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Like, look. Those are clean, sharp corners with some clearance off the borders. I have no clue why they managed it here but not with the others.
guys. please.
Backtrackig a little bit, going back to the positioning of the arms.
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Do I need to mention that those lines are both the same length and the same (mirrored) angle? I really hope I don't, because I don't think I could be making this shit up. Like, once you roughly know what you need to look for it just kinda becomes easy to find.
As said before, I genuinely do think that most of these issues happened in a chain-reaction. For example, the distances between the main part and the W wouldn't be as noticeable (and they do get noticeable once you start looking at it) if the angle wasn't fucked. And guess what, there's more fucked angles here! Which ALSO influence this specific area of the logo!
this is just embarrasing for you.
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something something same line copied over and mirrored etc etc
It's not as visible but the angles defintely don't line up here as well. As mentioned before, these issues for the most part all influence each other. It doesn't really excuse the issues, in my opinion as a designer, because a big company like this shouldn't have these sort of issues in their logo.
So let's review;
to sum it up,
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i cannot even BEGIN to explain to you how big of a fucking JOKE this FUCKING logo is. because, i thought to myself, to round the post out, hey, why not show ALL the issues i pointed out in one picture? that would round it out quite nicely, wouldn't it?
Yeah well, this logo sent STRAIGHT FROM HELL just could NOT let me rest. I had only done the lines visualizing the crooked arms in PAINT up until this point, i.e. I had only pulled both up individually. To make a nice "rounding out" picture I still had to add them into PHOTOSHOP. so i did. i pulled up the line. i mirrored the line.
THE ANGLE IS FUCKING DIFFERENT
none. and i mean NONE of my friends had noticed this before. i need you to understand that we looked at this thing with FIVE pair of eyes, and NONE of us noticed that until i thought to myself "Oh I still need to add these specific lines to have ALL the issues I pointed out in my SILLY TUMBLR POST in ONE image" and i get THAT FUCKING SURPRISE
I was PLANNING to round the post out with a statement on how obviously this isn't a serious post. Here, I even had it all written out already because I accidentally started writing it in the last paragraph:
Of course, this is nitpicking, and it's not that serious. I'm aware of that. AS MENTIONED most of these would not be noticeable if we hadn't gone specifically looking for them.
yeah, well, fuck that. i just spent two hours seething about this logo. i'm ending the post on this instead.
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thisiswhereikeepdcthings · 2 years ago
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how crazy do you think the AO3 authours notes are in gotham?
"Joker killed my grandma with a reindeer whilst playing 'grandma got run over by a reindeer' and i don't think i can continue to write this JokerBat fic anymore guys sorry :/ it just feels disrespectful."
“Look, I get if Batman/Clark Kent isn’t your cup of tea, but the guy writes more about Batman than anyone else outside of Gotham. There’s got to be a reason, is all I’m saying.”
“And here I am, jumping on the Batman/Bruce Wayne train like the rest of our beloved hellhole. Anyway, if you’re not from Gotham you can keep your criticisms to yourself or I will not be held responsible for the bloodshed that will occur should you insult our beloved sunshine child and his goth sugar baby. You don’t know them like we do.”
“Hey, sorry I haven’t updated in awhile. I died and then got caught up in this whole my-father-didn’t-avenge-me angst thing. Which was completely justified in my opinion. Anyway…”
“Let’s be honest, this entire series is dedicated to the fact that Red Hood could crush any of us with his thighs and we’d say thank you.”
“I just read a fic shipping Nightwing/Superman and I mean, come on. The author is clearly not from Gotham but I can never unsee that and I think I should be entitled to financial compensation.”
“Sorry it’s been awhile, I just got a new job! With the Best Boss™️ (if you know, you know). Also, my boss said he’d give a hundred bucks if I wrote a Batman bashing fic? Thoughts? Ngl I don’t think it’d even be that hard.”
“‘WHy aRE yoU WriTIng ABouT FakE SupERheROes WHen THe rEAl oNEs aRE riGHt tHEre?’ Uh, because it’s Gotham and they’re all a disaster? And also because I don’t want to be haunted by the venegeful spirits of robins past idk. Thinking of doing a crossover though. Batman in the Avengers? Thoughts?”
“I just want my husband Nightwing to be happy, is that too much to ask?”
“I came across Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy on my way home from school today and will now be hyperfixating on that ship, thanks.”
“Leave me and my 235k word fic of Prince!Bruce/Knight!Batman alone you Metropolis and Superman-loving traitors. This is not for you.”
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lunavrse · 8 months ago
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WHAT YOU HEARD
LANDO NORRIS
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summary ★ : streets are saying yn finally broke up with her loser boyfriend and guess who couldn't be happier? if you guessed lando, you'd be wrong, it's actually her (but lando's a really close second).
category ★ : smau.
notes ★ : disregard all times and dates, they don't matter. all spelling mistakes are intentional. with that out of the way, finally someone other than charles even though i still have like 2 drafts for him that i need to finish. ntm on the banner and article 😶‍🌫️. when you get to the hello kitty reactions pls just scroll💀 it was funny when i made it but now it's just... and i cba to remove it. sorry this is so short 🙏.
part 2
yn_ln added to their story.
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user00: oooh, girl's night????
user01: love seeing my fav wags out and about
user02: what happened to your foot? hope you're okay🫶
yourfriend: lils on her phone probably texting alex🙄 they make me sick w how cute they are
user03: y'all look so good🥴
user04: I just know that club's hot as satan's arsehole, how do you look so good? what's your secret🎤
alex_albon: please bring my girlfriend back in one piece🙏
yn_ln: nah, she's my girlfriend now😪
user05: no ezra? break up abeg
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maxfewtrell replied to your Close Friends story : did you forget she's on your cf
landonorris: do you think i'm stupid? obviously i removed her before posting this
maxfewtrell: so you do have a working brain cell🤗 congrats🎉
monaspencer replied to your story : wasteman is hilarious but deserved.
alex_albon replied to your Close Friends story : may your efforts fail 🤞🙏
landonorris: WOW🤣🤣
alex_albon: nothing personal mate🤷‍♂️
landonorris: WDYM nothing personal, you're literally cursing me😒
randomfriend replied to your story : VINDICATION!!! i knew you couldn't read🥳
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alex_albon replied to your Close Friends story : why did he have to be such a simp, now i owe lily and mona money
yn_ln: you're a millionaire, you can afford it, so suck it up king👑🫶🏽
monaspencer replied to your Close Friends story : you just made me 200€ richer😘
yn_ln: i actually don't want to know...
lilymhe replied to your Close Friends story : now alex owes mo and i money, thank you🙏🏻
yn_ln: glad to be of service?
landonorris replied to your Close Friends story : i wonder who that handsome guy is
yn_ln: some stray i found wandering around and out of the goodness of my heart, i decided to bring into my home
landonorris: you're not funny
yn_ln: then why were you laughing at all my jokes earlier?
landonorris: i was laughing at how bad they were😕
yn_ln: sure...
charles_leclerc replied to your story : tangled on a date? how romantic
yourfriend replied to your Close Friends story : this doesn't look very "im done w yt men" 🤔
yn_ln: you're in my business, don't do that😁
yourfriend: but it's so interesting 🥴
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⤷ end note ‧ ★ : made a cute lil divider so hopefully it distracts you from everything else😋. honestly this took so long bc i was mostly working with vibes, no writing, no thoughts, just vibes. i don't know how some of y'all are so fast, like you guys amaze me, my goal is to just get more than 1 smau per month out. also i will no longer be writing for charles leclerc bc someone said he looked like noah schnapp and i can't unsee it 💀💀 gonna have to change the drafts🥲
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elllisaaa · 4 months ago
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@favieeerrrr said that this is hyunjin's face when he cums and i can't unsee it now.
HYUNJIN who just has so much energy and adrenaline left from the concert that he needs to release it with you. he wants your mouth on his dick and his mouth on your pussy, always.
the gagging noises you're making around his cock are making him go crazy, moaning against your wet folds. he feels your nails digging into the skin of his thighs as you take him as deep as possible, relaxing your throat to the max, drool pooling at the corners of your lips as you suck him off just like he loves it. "shit, your mouth feels so good baby, don't stop." it's your turn to moan, the vibration making his lenght throb as he dives back into your cunt.
the lewd sounds coming from his tongue lapping desperatly at your pussy are driving you mad. unable to hold back longer, you release all over hyunjin's face, his hands gripping your ass firmly to keep you in place as he's eating you out to his heart content. "love your taste so much, fuck, can't wait to fuck you when we go home." - "i can't wait either baby."
hyunjin's hums in delight as you turn around to face him and take his cock down your throat again. you just want to watch him as he cums, because he always makes the prettiest faces when he does. hyunjin is quick to take a hold of your hair, pushing you down on his cock further as he lets out a string of curses and breathy moans. "gonna cum in your pretty mouth, darling, yeah ?" you whine around him, looking up at him desperately because that's all you want really.
and when hyunjin does cum, he throws his head back, panting loudly, biting his lip hard but you can see a faint smirk on his face as you swallow his realease like a good girl. that only is enough to turn you on again. you're not thinking anymore when hyunjin is pulling you up to kiss you, remainings of your arousal and his cum mixing up sensually. "we should really go home. now." - "is someone needy ?" he says with that annoyingly attractive grin, when he knows perfectly well you're in this state because of him.
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marsprincess889 · 3 months ago
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VEDIC ASTRO OBSERVATIONS
Part 4
I thought, why not
Editing and finishing this as I have a face mask on
Bharanis are very sensitive, in a very misunderstood way. They're often either dangerously passive and stubborn or fiercely proactive, and this comes from the fact that they can read people well, and are sensitive to the energies around them. They know the importance of sticking to their own convictions/their way. Bharani is the place where you MUST NOT be fooled into submission and gaslighting, no matter who it comes from. It's where all kinds of forces try to enforce influence on you, right when you are so aware of your true calling/desire(s). That's why this nakshatra is so prominent in the charts of great philosophers and thinkers. They are defensive and secretive, but it all comes from the necessity to protect their truth, which is their life, and everything to them. Do not mistake their defensiveness as childish defiance. They know the pain of giving up and the strength it requires to stand up to themselves.
I said this multiple times, and I'm saying at again: ketu is VERY IMPORTANT. look at your ketu nakshatra and just take it in for a sec. Its infulence is on everything. Since you can rarely attribute that infulence on a specific thing in a person, it's often overlooked, but once you start looking at ketu in charts and apply it to the native/their life, you cannot unsee it. Also, when you are being natural, when life feels effortless and when you don't think a lot, oftentimes the appearance of your ketu will come to the surface, i mean, you'll be able to see it physically. Ik I don't look like my ketu nakshatra at first glance but boy do i see it when I look in the mirror, and I like it a lot. Oftentimes, as I've noticed, people love their ketu.
Your true essence, I think, is moon+ketu(very personal and mostly private but extremely important. They color the most of your inner world), then sun+ascendant(your way of dealing with the world, also very important) and atmakaraka+amatyakaraka(your path to yourself). Your chart ruler(ruling planet of your rising sign) is kind of separate but still visible, and it colors the whole chart, but unlike ketu, it's more on the surface and more visible in the native's behavior. I'm not saying you should disregard other placements, but this is how I see them.
Some nakshatras that I think are most prone to agitation/reactiveness(in order of their appearance from Ashwini to Revati, not ranked): Ardra, Ashlesha, Chitra, Vishakha, Purva Ashadha(?), Dhanishta.
In contrast, most stoic and hard to get a reaction out of: Pushya, Magha, Purva Phalguni, Uttara Phalguni, Uttara Ashadha, Shatabhisha, Uttara Bhadrapada.
Ketu in Ashlesha is dangerous like I know it personally(I don't have it tho). Ketu, unless exalted and/or developed by the native(conciously or subconciously) is mostly in a state of ignorance. Ashlesha is, dare I say, the most manipulative placement, but the tragedy is that Ashlesha natives kinda need it, that's what they know. It's the torturous place of attachments and distance and forced attachments and forced distance, of abuse and healing and alertness on a deeply nervous and emotional level. Ketu, the planet of raw, dangerously powerful stored energy and experience in a place like that can be horrible, for both the native and the people around them, especially if the native is unaware of their behavior.
Uttara Phalgunis can be taken for granted by others, especially people they're close to, but those people still refuse to let the U. Phalguni native go. They're so "Sunny" and supportive that some people refuse to take them seriously. The thing with Sun nakshatras though is that they have inner strength and are in no way naive, they just have trust because they trust themselves and know and are proud of their convictions. U. Phalgunis' convictions almost always include support and loyalty to people close to them/dear to their heart, but unfortunately, not everyone can appreciate that for what it is and pass it off as naivety. Mostly it comes from people who value manipulation, which Uttara Phalgunis hate. Uttara Phalguni women/girls especially can be seen as "good girls" at first glance, or as "vanilla", but in reality, it's based on their inner strength and trust in themselves. Ik this sounds biased, that's just because it's personal and I know many examples of it, mine and others. This one's for the "good" ones.
Interesting thing I've noticed: Krittikas, despite being a Sun nakshatra, have a reputation of being "aggressive"? I would not say they're aggressive, but they can be more reactive than other sun nakshatras. Krittika starts in Aries(ram), which is ruled by the active Mars. It's yoni animal is a sheep/goat/ram(sources vary). I mean, its essence is that of fire, and its meaning is "to cut", so, they're kind of aggressive about their individuality/selectivity/. They're aggressively stoic, if that makes sense.
To expand on the point above, a great way to understand nakshatras is to view their ruling planet as what is given/what we have, and the rashi(s) that it's in as what is done with it. So, for example, if Bharani is about protecting/defending(mars/aries) beauty, life and love(Venus), Mrigashira(the Taurus part) is about beautifying/enjoying(passive venus/taurus) pursuit/defiance(Mars). You can see how different those are, especially because a planet ruling a rashi is not the same as a planet ruling a nakshatra, they manifest slightly differently.
Another great way to understand nakshatras is to learn their mythology. I am very well aware that different sources say different things, and ik it's more tiring than rewarding to go from site to site but you can take little details that are consistent and stick to them. For example, Revati's god Pushan is known as the one who guides, who nourishes, but he's the nourishing form of a Sun god. So now you see that Revati is solar in nature, rather than Saturnian(its opposite). It's all about association and how different associations relate to each other. I think this kind of approach is better than relying on other people's opinions and observations.
So, this is all I guess?
Interact pleaseeeeeeeeee 😩💕 esp reblog and comment
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Note
Hey,
Do you still take Hannibal requests? If you do, could you please write a story, where Hannibal get‘s very jealous after a night out in the opera. The reader had finally met Franklyn, who is very interested in her ( because she‘s friends with Hannibal and part of the cheese folk).Hannibal is visibly angry when they are back in their opera seats… Could you also please end it with smut ( if you are comfortable with that).Thanks for considering!<3
A/n: Hey Hon thanks for the request i hope you like it!
Hannibal Lector x Reader: Jealousy, Jealousy
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Warnings:smut, biting, kissing, penetration (p in v), fingering, possessive behaviour, public sex, unwanted flirting (from Franklin), fluff, happy ending, no use of y/n, female reader
Word count:2,9K
Hannibal is pissed. No scratch that. He’s seething. But you can’t see it. No one can. He’s just that good at hiding it. Even so, everyone has a breaking point. 
This was Hannibals.
Franklin had met you at the last opera you and Hannibal had gone to and from that moment it seemed he had grown some sort of infatuation with you. Hannibal always loathed his sessions with Franklin, his ever growing desire to be Hannibal’s friends making the doctor rather uncomfortable, but he never imagined it could get worse. Boy was he mistaken. It seemed like Franklin couldn’t utter a single sentence without mentioning your name. Hannibal watched him dance around the subject for days until he finally got to the point.
“You think you could give me her number?”
“I'm sorry?”
“Her number. I wanted to ask if she’d be free for some wine tasting but I don't know how to reach her. And then I thought you must have her number since you two seem close.”
“I don’t think she’d be interested.”
“Oh well maybe you could give me it anyway and i could ask-”
“I will not be giving you her number and that is final.”
An eerie silence took over the room. Hannibal watched Franklin open and close his mouth silently before settling back into his chair. It seemed clear to Hannibal that his patient had finally gotten the message.
 Once again he was wrong.
You were nursing a glass of wine that Hannibal had picked out for you as your eyes studied the opera house. Hannibal was next to you, his body mare inches from yours but not close enough to allow contact. You watched people come up to Hannibal in greeting before quickly going away.
“As always you’re quite the topic.”
“I don’t know what you mean dear.”
“Don’t be modest Hannibal. It's clear these people admire you. They may even wish to be you.”
You caught sight of a girl making flirtatious eyes to Hannibal and couldn’t help but smirk.
“Or maybe be with you. Either way they consider you appealing.”
Hannibal watched you as you spoke, his eyes never leaving your frame. It was intriguing how observant you could be and how unseeing you were at the same time. It didn’t matter how many women tried to impress him, his eyes always found themselves glued to you. You always had his full attention.
Always.
It was beginning to become a problem.
Hannibal had been so focused on looking at you that he hadn’t noticed someone new had approached. It was only when Hannibal heard the familiar voice that he realized you two had company. The doctor watched Franklin greet you with a kiss on your hand. The sight itself made Hannibal clench his hands into fists. He tried to remind himself he was in the middle of a very crowded place. A place filled with people who knew him. Seeing him throw a punch at a patient would ruin his career. Still he’d never felt an urge to knock someone out so much in his life.
You were always a kind person. Very well mannered and aware of your words. So it shouldn’t surprise Hannibal when you kept conversing with Franklin, occasionally even laughing at his terrible jokes. Hannibal zeroed in his attention on your lips. He observed the way they wrapped around the rim of the glass as you took a sip of your drink. The drink he’d picked for you because he knew you pallet better than anyone.
It had occurred to Hannibal a few months back that he was growing interested in you in a not so friendly way. But it was only when Franklin asked for your number that he realized how deeply he was falling for you. He wanted you for himself. And he would make that happen.
You were starting to get annoyed. Franklin was a nice guy but it was clear he didn’t know how to take no for an answer. You could see the way he was subtly, at least in his eyes, trying to flirt with you. It’s safe to say you weren’t interested. Not that he seemed to be getting that message. A noise rang out into the room telling you all the intermission was coming to an end.
“Well look at that, time just flies when you’re having fun huh?”
You gave Franklin a weak smile .
“We should be going, Franklin. Our seats are at the top so we have to climb a lot of stairs.”
“Oh okay.”
“Maybe we'll see you at the next opera?”
God you hopped not.
“Actually I was wondering if I could get your number.”
You froze, a concerned smile plastered to your face. Gosh he really didn’t let up did he? In a moment of pure panic at the thought of having to deal with Franklin calling at all hours of the night you grabbed onto Hannibal's arm. The doctor's focus moved to where your delicate hands were wrapped around his forearm. You looked up at him with pleading eyes before turning back to Franklin.
“Actually I’m already spoken for.”
“Oh wow I didn’t….realize.”
“Yes well we are very much together so…. Yeah.”
And uncomfortable silence covered the three of you. You tried to think of something to say. Anything to get you away from here. Before you had time to come up with something Hannibal spoke.
“Come on dear. If we don’t hurry we might miss something.”
You let out a relieved breath as Hannibal moved his hand to wrap around your waist, guiding you away from Franklin. You kept your eyes forward as the two of you walked. It was only when you were out of Franklin's view that you started laughing. You braced yourself on your thighs as you laughed.
“Oh gosh. That was just dreadful. He was so-“
“Annoying.”
“Incredibly annoying! Honestly Hannibal I don't know how you can deal with being in a room with him for an hour.”
“Didn’t seem like you were having such a hard time.”
You lifted your head to look at the doctor with a curious expression. He was looking down at you with a look you rarely ever saw, at least not directed towards you. Hannibal Lecter was annoyed. And at you no less. You crossed your arms over your chest.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“You seemed to be enjoying talking to him. Laughing at his jokes. Making small talk.”
“It's called manners, Hannibal. As far as I know you value them quite a lot.”
Hannibal stalked over to you causing you to take a step back. Your back hit the wall, making you gasp. Hannibal hovered over you, his eyes boring into your soul.
“Hannibal what are you-“
“Did you enjoy his attention? Did you like the way he was looking at you? He was staring so hard I was surprised his eyes didn’t pop out of their sockets.”
“What the hell’s gotten into you?”
“Into me? Weren’t you the one who was just clinging onto my body like I was your savior?”
You’d never seen Hannibal like this. For the first time since you knew him he looked like an animal. His usually neat hair was slightly flopping over his face and the expert calm facade he always had seemed to have slipped. He looked like a predator and you were his prey. You lifted your hand so that you could touch his arm. He looked at your hand on his frame. It was as if your touch was burning him. He needed to feel you but he was afraid of what that would mean. You whispered his name causing him to face you. You looked up at him with wide eyes, your lips slightly parted as you breathed.
He hadn’t even realized he was boxing you into the wall with his body until he felt the heat that radiated from you. He couldn’t think straight with you so near him but he couldn’t bear to be far from you either. It was then that he realized just how much he craved you. He felt like a lion who’d been starved for days and had finally been given a piece of steak. 
He was going to devour you.
Without a second thought Hannibal shoved his lips against yours. Your body reacted immediately, hand moving to wrap around his neck as he deepened the kiss. Hannibal moved his hand to your leg, hitching it up. You gasped into his mouth as his fingers skimmed over your skin. He enjoyed the sounds you made as he pushed your underwear to the side. His fingers moved over your pussy and he couldn’t help but groan as he felt how wet you were. Your nails dug into his blazer as he inserted one of his digits into you. Your back rubbed against the wall as he continued to bully his fingers into your cunt. A moan slipped through your lips before you managed to cover your mouth, the realization that anyone could just walk by and see you finally becoming clear.
“Hannibal we-“
“Shhh I’m trying to enjoy the opera.”
You could hear the opera singer belting out a note from afar. The sound was dulled by the heavy doors but you could still make it out. Hannibal hummed the song as he continued to finger you. You were trying to keep as quiet as possible but he wasn’t making it easy on you. He knew exactly what to do to have you screaming out for him.
“Hannibal please, I'm so close.”
“Oh yeah? Think you deserve it?”
“Yes please. Please make me cum.”
“Even after flirting with Franklin in front of me?”
This little shit.
“Hannibal please…. I’m sorry.”
“Who do you belong to hum?”
“You.”
“Speak up dear, I can't hear you.”
“You Hannibal! I belong to you!”
“That's right. Go on then. Cum on my fingers.”
You hid your face in the crook of Hannibal's neck as a silent moan ripped through your body. He felt your teeth graze his collar bone through his shirt as your mouth opened in pleasure making him smirk. Your juices continued to coat his fingers as he attempted to help you through your high. Your body shook against him, your limbs spasming as you tried to regain control of your brain. You knew Hannibal's knowledge of the human body made him good at many things but you never stopped to contemplate the effect his expertise would have on a more sexual context.  
Once you’d come back down to earth you pushed your body off of Hannibals allowing you to look into his eyes. You continued to breathe heavily as you looked at him trying to figure out what would happen next. You hadn't expected him to lean down and kiss your lips but you welcomed the action. You warped your arms around his neck tugging him even closer to you. Hannibal's hands made their way to your hips squeezing lightly at your flesh. You bite into his bottom lip as his mouth moved away from yours. You couldn’t help the giggle that made its way out of your lips.
Hannibal grinned down at you, his thumb caressing your hip bone as he continued to observe you. Your hair was covering your face and your lips were swollen from kissing him. Hannibal didn’t look much better, his pupils were dilated and his heart was hammering in chest. You noticed the wild look in his eyes and in a sudden burst of confidence you decided to move your leg up against Hannibal's body. His eyes darted to your leg before moving back to your face. You bite into your lip, your fingers moving to tug at the small hairs on the back of Hannibal's head. You watched his brows furrow a bit at the action. “You gonna fuck me Doctor lector?”
“What makes you say that?”
“The look on your face.”
“And what look would that be?”
“The look of a man who is about to turn into an animal.”
Hannibal's expression faltered slightly at your comment. He wondered from a moment if you’d understand him if he told you what he was capable of. He wondered if your eyes would widen in fear or if they would simply spike up in curiosity. You placed your palm on his cheek causing him to focus on you once more.
“You okay?”
“No.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m starved.”
Hannibal gave you a wolfish grin as his hand made its way to your ass. You gasped as he pushed your body up, legs instinctively wrapping around his hips. You steady yourself on his shoulders waiting to see what he would do. Hannibal tugged your dress up your legs allowing him to view your underwear. He moved his hand to his pants tugging at the zipper. You watched him in anticipation, eyes widening as he pulled his dick from its confines. You whined as he pushed your underwear to the side, positioning himself near your entrance. A gasp left your lips as he pushed into you. Your nails dug into his blazer. Hannibal braced one hand on the wall as he began to pistol into you.
Your moans filled his ears as he continued to brutally fuck into you. The sound of you combined with the sounds of the opera far away were like music to his ears. He wondered why he’d never thought of doing this before. You’d been to his home many times it wouldn’t have been hard to get you into his bed but he supposed this was nice too. He felt a rush move through his body at the thought of someone walking in on the two of you. He wished it would be Franklin, the need to show his patient that you belonged to him becoming overwhelming. His head moved to your neck, tongue moving against the soft skin before he sunk his teeth into you. Your walls clenched around him at the action causing him to let out a grunt.
“Hannibal-ah ugh ah shit- don’t stop.”
He was never going to stop. He’d feast on your body for as long as he could, in every way he knew how. He would never be satiated with the feeling of you. There was no going back now Hannibal would have to make you entirely his. 
He continues to nibble at your skin, desperately trying to mark you as much as he can. He wants to scare off any other suitors but he also enjoys the thought of you walking around covered in marks he’s given you. Mine, he thinks, this one is all mine. You're clenching around his dick like a vice which tells him you’re getting closer to your release. He wants you to beg for it, wants you to ask him to cum. It seems you can read his mind because without him even opening his mouth you’re already whining for him, telling him how good he feels and how much you want to cum on his dick. So he lets you but not before filling you to the brim with his seed. He wants you so full off him that his cum starts to seep out. He wants you to smell like him so everyone else knows who you belong to. 
You’re having a hard time getting your heart to calm down. Hannibals still holding onto your body, trying his best to keep you upright as his own legs threaten to buckle. Neither one of you speaks, opting to just share the space in silence for a moment. You hear muffled applause, the sound telling you that the opera has ended. You pull your dress down covering your body once again. Once you think you're decent your hands move to Hannibal now soft dick, stuffing it back in his pants for him. He doesn't move away from you as you straighten his tie or when you fix his hair for him. He lets you build his facade back up without any complaint. As you finish making sure he too is decent you place your hands on his chest.
“Can’t ruin your reputation, can we now Doctor Lecter?”
He smiles at you, his own hands moving to fix your messy hair. Then he moves to place a gentle kiss on your lips. It's a tender action which causes your heart to skip a beat. As the two of you share a loving kiss the doors of the opera open. People pile into the hall you and Hannibal are in, not one of them aware of what was happening a couple of minutes prior. You allow Hannibal to guide you into the crowd, his hand comfortably warping around your waist. You let your body curl into him.
“Let’s go home my dear. I’m dying for another meal.”
Something about the way he talks makes you think he isn’t talking about food.
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sadembryhours · 3 months ago
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Can you a Josh x reader where the reader helps Josh cope with his sisters’ death?
HUMAN! ♡ josh washington
synopsis : you try your best to help him live ; allow him to grieve and hold his hand as he does. silently, he’s forever thankful.
cw : heavy mental health talk / depections , josh is unwell , reader takes care of him
song inspo ; human by dodie
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🪷 if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked. 🪷
Blue and red lights surround you, bouncing off of the freshly fallen snow. Jess is sobbing into Mike's shoulder, Emily holding her hand as they talk to two officers in their uniform. Sam is laying her own head on your shoulder, her hand squeezing yours as you both sit in silence.
Chris stands with Josh, who only stars at the mountain view around him.
You shiver as the wind whips by you, carrying a conversation your way. Two other officers look at Josh warily before looking back at the lodge. It was a crime scene now — closed for everyone until further notice.
"With me," your voice cuts through. Josh's watery, unseeing eyes seem to find you. With a frown, you look back towards the officer. "He can stay with me."
⋆。‧˚ʚ🪷ɞ˚‧。⋆
The silence of the drive home follows you as you lead Josh inside. He treks in slowly, boots heavy, laced with snow and distress. Lifelessly, Josh all but falls onto your couch, perching there stiffly.
You frown, "Josh? Are you hungry? Thirsty?"
He mumbles, but you can only hear him saying his sisters names. Crouching, you meet his gaze as best as you can. Your fingers lace into his — they're cold ; frigid and frozen as he simply twitches at the touch. "Josh. Are you with me?"
He still doesn't speak, no movement or sound comes from him at all. You hold your dismay in, concealing it and composing yourself instead. You stand, shuffling Josh out of his shoes and jacket until he's left in his sweater. Taking off your own outside clothes, you turn the tv onto something silly and absent-minded. With a stroke to the top of his head, you leave Josh to make something warm to eat.
It'll take time, you think to yourself. The stove comes to life, warming your house up even more as you cook. The living room is silent — Josh sits as still as a statue. You don't even know if he's blinked since coming in — since Sam woke him up from the horrible prank that was played on his sisters. It'll just take some time.
You blow on the food you'd made, setting it on the coffee table in front of you. A cup of Josh's favored drink goes to the left of it as you leave to get on your own plate. The couch dips as you sit beside him — he's still blank, even as you nudge him gently.
"Eat before it gets cold," you say quietly. Gentle — Josh needs gentle, tender words to help him come back ; help him heal. He merely blinks. "Should I feed you, then?"
A twitch of his lips — it's not much, but it's enough to get a grin out of you. Leaning forward, you meet his eyes. "I will! Is that what you want? The royal treatment, your highness Josh?"
His lips spread into a small, delicate smile before creaky, frozen joints start to move. He grabs his silverware with shaking hands, settling the plate on his lap. Josh stares at the steam, "thanks."
"Eat up," you respond. You squeeze his free hand for a minute before letting it go. Josh looks at you through his eyelashes and you smile at him. "There's plenty more if you're still hungry."
⋆。‧˚ʚ🪷ɞ˚‧。⋆
No longer catatonic, Josh still only spoke quietly and sparsely. He ate one meal a day, if that, and only because you pestered him to do so. A week had went by with him simply sitting. He turned the tv to a news channel, eyes wide and seeing each and every emergency broadcast.
Simply waiting for any news of his sisters.
"Hey," you lean on the doorway between the kitchen and living room. Josh turns his head only an inch, eyes cemented on the current weather updates. "Want to shower? It'll warm you up."
Josh's hands twitch in his lap as he blinks. You bite your lip, going to stand in front of him. It's as if he's looking through you ; as if he can still the tv you stand in front of. "Josh?"
With no response, you take matters into your own hands once more. A warm washcloth is held in one hand, a bowl of steamy, soapy water in the other. You kneel on the floor in front of Josh, the bowl off to your right. Dipping the washcloth in the water, you wring it out before wiping Josh's face tenderly.
He blinks at the warmth, inhaling the scent of your soap slowly. Life trickles back into his eyes, sea foam brightening surely until he's looking at you. "[Name]."
"Hi," you grin at him. You set the rag down, hands in your lap as Josh stares. "Doing alright?"
"Yeah." Looking at the damp cloth in your hand, Josh blinks. "I don't think I can stand."
You shake your head before he finishes his sentence. You lift yourself to your knees, raking your fingers in his hair. "Don't worry about it. This is enough for now."
Josh's eyes flutter at your touch as you continue to give him a half-hearted bath. His hands unclench, leaving his side to wrap around your elbows. You pause, rag against his neck as you look at him curiously. He breathes out, "thank you."
"I'll get you a change of clothes when I'm done, hm?"
⋆。‧˚ʚ🪷ɞ˚‧。⋆
The nightmares seem to start then. The more Josh continued to come back to reality, the meaner his mind became. Trying to get him in a bed was useless — your guest room was absent of a tv and he needed to see the news.
Whimpering wakes you from the small sleep you'd drifted off to. You never had a deep sleep now, always keeping one ear open for Josh. Letting out a sleepy sigh, you stumble into the living room.
He's already awake by the time you find him. Curled up on the floor in front of the couch, knees to his chest as he cries. "Sorry," Josh stutters, "sorry, I'm so sorry."
You don't know if he's talking to you or someone — something else.
Slowly, so you don't spook him, you take a seat to Josh's left. Your eyes droop as you lean your chin on the table, hand inching to his. You entertwine your fingers with his, taking them from where Josh was pulling and tugging at his hair.
Josh jumps, eyes wide and startled as he searches for you in the darkness. You smile his way softly, "let's sleep in my room tonight. I'll keep the tv on."
You're already half-asleep when Josh curls around you. Turning, you open you arms to welcome him into your embrace. A heavy, withering sigh escapes his mouth and causes his chest to tremble. Josh burrows his face into your chest, "thank you, [Name]."
"You have to stop thanking me," you slur sleepily. Tender, tickilish nails scrape against his scalp lightly, bringing him closer to you. Josh sighs and relaxes further. "I don't mind taking care of you."
As you drift off, a tentative, burning kiss is left at your clavicle. Josh breathes you in once more before he delves into blissful, happy memories of his sisters.
————
sadembryhours © do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate my content on any platform. if you see my content under any other name than my own, let me know. i only have this tumblr and an ao3 account under the name airbendertendou.
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atlaswav · 4 months ago
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CATACLYSMIC ☾
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INFO: 5252 words..... dr ratio x fem! reader SYNOPSIS: You hate him, of that you're certain. You hate the man behind the alabaster figurehead, and you want to see him unravelled, but you don't know exactly what you do to him. WARNINGS: um alcohol and one kiss. also some swearing but mostly fine AUTHOR'S NOTE: rising from the grave to bring to you this thing i found this in my drafts from who knows how long when I was obsessed with this man (still am). someone help. i can no longer write this much for one fic. what was i on.
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Veritas Ratio made it no secret that he despised those who lived in ignorance. He openly shunned those who were stupid enough to turn their eyes from knowledge – they’d be beggars in due time. They didn’t know how the world was governed, and ignorant fools would play victim to fate’s cruel touch.
With this philosophy of his, you often wondered whether or not his ivory figurehead would soon burst with the tumultuous storm of the man’s self importance. You wondered what would lie underneath. Surely, the divine makers would’ve allowed balance in his creation – surely, his face was horribly disfigured in exchange for such otherworldly intelligence. 
He was both delightfully astute and horrendously ill mannered at once. Brighter than your entire class combined – your entire university combined, no doubt – but his pretentiousness was overflowing, and you believed he was in dire need of being put in his place.
Arrogant and pretentious were two of the words that came to mind when someone mentioned Dr. Ratio, and you were sure you weren’t the only one who refused to worship his word like the gospel. In turn, he seemed to despise your very existence, as if you were merely a faded annotation in the footnotes of an ancient epic. Vandalising a work of art. A moustache on the Mona Lisa. Circe in the Odyssey, if she’d welcomed sailors with open arms, allowing them to degrade her as they would a common concubine, not a descendant of the gods.
Yet instead of sharing the witch’s beguiling, seductive nature, you only shared her mortal voice. Thin, reedy, quiet, compared to the booming voices of gods. The voice of Veritas Ratio. Your achievements could only pale in comparison to his, and it took everything within you to clap politely as he received his third – fourth? (you weren’t intent on keeping track) – diploma.
God you hated that man. You’d muttered as much under your breath countless times.
“Dr. Ratio is fine. No need to worship me.” he’d once corrected. But the attempt at humour was lost on you as your classmates began to laugh. The divine makers likely brought him into existence just to spite you. Oftentimes, you fought your urges to hurl the nearest textbook at his caricature head and watch the plaster crack, fall to the floor, and reveal his disfigured face. 
Not that you’d seen it before – lingered around him enough to see it disappear.
His scorn held no favourites, and certainly not when it came to you. He’d openly dragged your work through the dirt a couple of times before, and it was only a matter of time before he did it again. His words were scalding, leaving burns across your thin skin and leaving your mouth tasting of ash. Your voice, faint and human, fell quiet at his ‘gospel’. 
If it weren’t obvious, the hatred was mutual. He’d never admit it outright – he was far beyond these meaningless, trivial things such as immature hatred – but you felt his scathing glare in your soul, even through that perturbing headpiece, and that was enough. 
“Have you found it?” 
You turn around, meeting the cold, blank, unseeing gaze of his caricature head behind you. It was disconcerting to say the very least, but no one else had asked him about it, so you never pushed him further. None wanted to invoke his wrath, no matter what circumstance. It was a miracle neither of you had exploded at each other yet, but you suspected that he’d gladly put aside any type of loathing he harboured for you so that this project would get done faster. 
You were happy to oblige as he took the lead. A free credit was a free credit. But you did have your limits.
“Nope. The text is ancient. I doubt this library has it.”
“Nonsense.” he clicked his tongue, glancing to the side. “I’m asking the professor. Go work on your part.”
Patience is a virtue, as you keep reminding yourself. 
“Sure. Let me know if you find anything.” you say instead of the retort that sits on your tongue. False niceties and biting, underhanded remarks. This charade was entertaining, at the very least.
How did everyone love him? There had to be people like you who shared your dislike towards that conceited scholar. With a long suffering groan, you took a seat at one of the plethora of tables in the university’s library, clicked your pen and began to write. 
Maybe the reason he despised you so was because of your ideas, arguably the opposite of his own way of thinking. Where his twisted logic, rearranged rationality and pulled apart natural reasoning to formulate new material, you cut and stitched the work of others together to create your own emulations. (Frankenstein's monster. Was that a cliche? For Ratio, it probably was.)
He’d likely scrap what you’d written as soon as he returned, but that didn’t stop you from trying to spite him anyway. You hoped your readings wouldn’t go to waste as you recorded your findings, then started to draft an outline for your project. 
The scratch of paper became white nose, your hand struggling to keep up with the pace of your mind – was it even worth it? He’d likely call it worthless, snatch it from you and throw it into the recycling bin, then start writing his own outline. It only angered you further as you frowned at the page, wondering how he’d approach the project. 
The thump of a heavy tome on the wooden desk snapped you out of your sombre thoughts. 
“Here.” Ratio took a seat at the chair opposite of yours, brushing the dust off the thick text, leafing through its yellowed pages. “I told you they’d have it. You just need to search better.”
You offer him a tight smile. “Noted.” More false niceties, more flat remarks.
Then the figurehead disappears in a blink, and you nearly drop your pen. He barely pays you any mind as he runs a hand through his hair, flipping through the text. You’d heard the rumours of the handsome face beneath the statue, but you’d never have imagined him to be so disgustingly perfect. 
Statuesque. 
His deep violet locks looked unbelievably soft. His crimson eyes showed laser focus as he scanned the text in front of him, ignoring you completely as he noted something down. After a brief silence where you skim over your outline and he presumably attempts to decipher the undeniably unreadable and ancient text which you were opposed to reading in the first place, he turns to you with a sigh. “What did you do while I was gone?”
“I wrote an outline.” you hand the papers to him begrudgingly, fidgeting with the pen in your hand. You don’t meet his gaze, afraid that his calculating gaze might see too far into your soul. 
“This?” his distaste seeps through his tone. You don’t need to look at his face to know that he’s frowning. 
You say nothing as he skims through your work, twirling your pen between your fingers.
“...It’s not the worst thing I've ever read.”
Your eyebrows shoot up. 
“It’s not good, either.”
You scowl at him. 
“I can salvage it.” he nonchalantly throws it back onto the table, returning to the text at hand. 
You want to shove his grotesquely perfect face into the book. He really was put on this earth to spite you.
“Don’t just sit there. Go look for texts on criticism of our stance.”
You don’t know how you’re going to find the patience to survive this project. If anything, it irked you further to find that there wasn’t some monstrosity hidden behind that figurehead. In everything he did, he seemed to be inventing new ways to get on your nerves. However, unbeknownst to you, Veritas Ratio held you higher than you gave yourself credit for. He believed your ideas to be invigorating. Refreshing, almost. A welcome reprieve from the same reiterated, chewed, swallowed and regurgitated approaches that your other classmates had. 
You weren’t like the rest of the mindless, studying machines at the university. You could be brilliant, and it annoyed him that you didn’t know this. He’d admitted as much to himself before, but he’d never tell you. But it was still not good enough for his standards – far better than what the imbeciles in your class could’ve come up with – but still far behind him. Or so he kept telling himself. 
Days passed by without a word from either of you. You were content to write your part in the solitude of your dorm, and he seemed perfectly content mulling over whatever he’d found in that indecipherable ancient text. By the time you’d nearly finished your part, he decided to meet with you once again to share your findings. 
His definition of deciding to meet with you meant simply cornering you after class and asking you to follow him. 
You started to protest, but he’d already turned and briskly walked out of the classroom, so you groaned and followed after him, winding up in the library again. This time, in a secluded corner with the late afternoon sun pouring through the window, illuminating the small table and workspace with a warm glow. 
You wondered how he wasn’t winded after trekking across the entire campus. You certainly were. His muscled build suggested that a mere leisurely walk couldn’t possibly have tired him out. What did he eat? Was he what Nietzsche had in mind when he wrote of the Superman? 
“What are you doing? Sit.” he gestures to the seat across from him, and you sink into the armchair, taking out your papers. His headpiece disappears once again, and your breath catches in your throat. 
His hair cast a faint shadow across his face, and his eyes seemed to glow. As you leaned in closer, you realised there was a thin ring of gold around his pupils. 
“Are you done with your part?” he demands, breaking you out of your trance. 
You silently hand over your drafts, watching his eyes flit across your paper. His eyebrows furrow slightly, eyes narrowing, but he remains quiet. Were his eyelashes always this long? They created an indistinct shadow on his cheeks. His skin was pale, fair. Not the sickly kind of pale you thought he’d be. Did he exercise? You wouldn’t be surprised, with all your classmates always fawning over his broad, strong chest and narrower waist. 
Was it your imagination, or were his cheeks slightly flushed? It might have been the light. 
“It’s deplorable.”
Your heart sinks in your chest as you sit back against the armchair. 
“Your ideas are rudimentary. Have you been reading at all?” he sighs, holding his head in his hand. “No matter. I can fix it. I don’t need you to do anything anymore. You can go.”
You stay seated in shock, unable to move. You’ve heard the anecdotes of people crying over being scolded by him, but was he always this harsh? 
“You know it’s a group project, right?” you begin before your better judgement can decide against it, “My work is just as important as yours, it doesn’t matter if you think my work is ‘deplorable’. I’m in the same class, I take the same course, I learn the same things as you do, you don’t get to look down on me no matter how stupidly smart you are.”
He raises an eyebrow, unamused. “Why not?”
“Take that stick out of your ass, Veritas Ratio. Get off your high horse.” you snatch your papers out of his hands and take your leave, ignoring his calls of your name. 
Were you dramatic? Yes, but not without reason. Given Ratio’s reputation for prioritising academics over everything else, you suspected that it wouldn’t take long for him to find you, either. 
You were so wrong. 
More days passed with no contact. He didn’t seem to be affected by your dramatics, and never once batted an eye in your direction unless necessary. It seemed your hypothesis of him inventing new ways to get on your nerves was on the track of being proved correct. But if you didn’t do something within the next few days, you trusted him to turn in the project without your name on the paper, resulting in a zero. 
He was just as stubborn as you, and though you were nothing compared to him in actuality, you were so close to grabbing his face and forcing him to look at you for who you were.
Seemingly, even in the battle of wits, he seemed to emerge victorious. 
“Ratio.” 
He barely glances up, engrossed in his writing. “What?”
“Are you done with the project?” Biting the bullet stings your teeth and left a bitter taste on your tongue. 
“No. Not yet. Why? You’re finally going to help?”
“Are you going to stop looking down at me?” 
The library is nearly empty. The sun is barely a sliver on the horizon, and the voices of students float down the corridor beyond the grand stacks of books, yet you’re here. Why do you bother? Are you really that desperate for his validation?
“Are you going to keep writing such reprehensible work?”
You glare at him. “Guess not.” you turn on your heel.
“You’re absolutely infuriating.” he sighs, leaning back in the armchair. “You’re not aware of what you can do, are you?”
You glare at him. Your chest stings. 
He looks at you, then. Truly. His complexion relaxes, and he rubs his temples. “Sit. Let’s go through your part.”
“Why?”
“I mulled it over. Your part is brilliant.”
Your eyes widen.
“But your expression and research is appalling. Have you learned how to write academically at all?”
You’d never simultaneously wanted to slap and kiss a man at once until today. “What happened to getting off your high horse?”
“I got off it. Now sit and listen, I won’t repeat myself.”
You supposed that was the closest to an apology he’d ever give you, so you sat. It pained you, but you did. Besides, he had called you brilliant – your part – but still, you couldn’t force the smile from your face as you listened to his instruction. 
“Your ideas in your introduction are well formed, but from there, it all goes downhill. You have to reorder your logic for it to make sense, and we will be deducted points if you don’t elaborate on the principles of your concept first.”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “So how would you do it?”
“For one, I’d restart completely and get straight to the point.”
You sigh exasperatedly. “Show me, then, if you’re so good.”
His eyes narrow at you, but he says nothing as he motions for you to come closer. 
The librarian was likely too scared to kick either of you out after closing time. Your arguments were heard by all of your neighbouring desks, and whenever there was a break in conversation, it seemed as if everyone held their breath. There was pin drop silence except for the two of you – but neither of you realised it. 
He was blunt, and had no idea what you were thinking, but perhaps this is what entrapped him. 
You, on the other hand, couldn’t stop thinking about how he had called your ideas brilliant. 
You quickly learn how good of a teacher he is. Maybe it’s his forced patience or once-in-a-millenium genuine praise that spurs your decision, but you find yourself so willing to prove yourself, and he finds himself willing to help. 
Maybe this wasn’t so bad. 
“Just fix it, stop arguing with me. I’m right.”
“Why? Do you know every single thing about our topic?”
“No, but I have four degrees and more experience than you.”
“Jackass.”
“Change it.”
You grumbled another insult under your breath, yawning as you scribbled out the section you wrote and began to reword your thoughts. The sudden quietude was jarring, and as you looked around, you realised the overhead lights were off, the only source of light from the lamps illuminating the desks. 
“Is everyone gone?” you ask, sitting up straight and stretching. 
“Who cares? Finish up, then we can head back.”
“Fuck you, give me a break. I don’t write at the pace of a robot.”
“Then learn.”
“Fuck you too Veritas Ratio.”
“Expand your vocabulary while you’re at it.”
“Why are you so intent on irritating me?”
“You get irritated easily. Not my problem.”
“If you know I get irritated easily, why do you keep provoking me then? Do you want me to hate you more?”
He seems to pause. Minisculely, almost unnoticeable had your gaze not been trained on him for the past few hours. He had a habit of pausing and furrowing his brows when you said something slightly out of line. 
“Just finish the paper. You talk too much.”
You sigh and get back to work as he leafs through his own research. 
Amicable silence passes. The night is alive outside, gleaming and glistening with the touch of benevolent gods and whispers of long gone wishes – pearls stitched by fate’s knowing hands. 
“I’m done.”
“Show me.”
You pass the paper to him as you watch his expression carefully. 
Crimson eyes flit across your work, gold ringed irises flickering in the scarce light. If you could capture the way the light reflected in his eyes in a jar, you think wishfully that you’d stare at it forever; Until the light died out, or it decided to escape the ephemeral glass confines. 
But you’d never admit it out loud. It was wishful. If Veritas Ratio could read minds, he would undoubtedly reprimand you.
He clears his throat, and you snap to attention, swatting away your fantasies of stealing and bottling evasive light. 
“It’s good.”
You wait for him to speak further, but he says nothing. “Just good?”
“Well, by my standards, no, but for you, it’s good.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“I mean,” he leans on the table, forearms flexing. “That you’re finally starting to live up to your potential.”
“Huh?”
He blinks. “What do you mean?”
“What potential?”
He shakes his head absently, almost in disbelief. Forget light, you’d barter with the lady of fate to let you preserve this moment in a frame so that you could glimpse this expression forever. You’d never seen him so dumbfounded and awed at once – you doubt anyone ever has. He’d always been a man of knowing, and whatever he didn’t know, he would find out. Nothing was ever a “maybe,” or a “probably,” it was always absolute. It had to be absolute in his philosophy. 
You happened to be the one exception. 
“You’re not aware of the potential you have?”
“You think I have potential?”
“Aeons,” he murmurs under his breath, before standing and gathering his belongings. “I’m going to bed. See you in class tomorrow. We’ll finish up then.”
He leaves before you have the chance to question him, but as you slump back in your armchair, you can’t help but smile. 
Potential was as close as you’d ever get to a compliment from Veritas. 
The lady of fortune and lady Themis looked him in the eyes and saw their mortal emanator at his birth. He’d never been certain what he was made for, but he never let it burden him. Things like these weren’t made for him to ponder, that was up to the dreamers and inventors. 
He was a being of logic. A doctor of calculations and reason, and everyone knew him as such. 
But he simply couldn’t figure out what it was about you – your naive gaze or that pout that absently curved your lips – that had your words and scent and eyes lingering in his mind like a vengeful phantom. 
You were the being of all chaos and irrationality, but you were so bright. Unhoned, rough and unhewn. A gemstone shining with impurities but shining still, casting a beautiful mosaic cast across the ground with indecipherable shapes and patterns. 
It was deplorable. He hated you for being on his mind, and hated you even more for your wasted potential. He hated how you stared, how his cheeks would redden from the intensity of your gaze, and how he’d have to pretend he was unfazed, because he couldn’t afford any distractions. 
You were the being of his undoing, he was sure. You were brought into existence to spite him, to bring an unaccounted variable into the equation of his being, and present a causality dilemma for all he was. 
He wanted you gone, but he wanted you closer all at once. 
He hated it. 
It wasn’t common for him to sleep in either, so when he woke five minutes before class was supposed to start, he cursed you with all the spite in his heart and rushed to class, clutching papers from the night before, still imbued with traces of your lingering fragrance. Just how long had you pored over those papers for your smell to latch to them? It should be impossible. Fate was clearly against him. 
Fate brought you back together as he entered the brimming lecture hall, and the only vacant seat was the one next to you. 
“Did you get the papers in order?” you asked, glancing at his dishevelled state. The Dr Ratio you knew was never dishevelled, but this was the closest you’d ever seen him to it. 
“Yes. Just write your name on your bits and sign the sign off sheet and it’s complete.”
You take the paper from him, scrawling your name across your work, then handing it back. 
With your project finally submitted, you could breathe easy again – never endure his biting remarks and criticism again. 
But as the class progressed, you realised you were in trouble. 
The professor was merciless. He flicked through the presentation on the new topic with haste, rushing through new concepts, formulae and calculations with record speeds. You’d nudged Ratio, whispering for help, but he rolled his eyes and kept his stare attentively on the presentation. 
You wanted to slap him. 
Was he tolerating you because of the project? Was he going back to cold stares and dismissive glances?
You wouldn’t allow it. Not when you were so close to discovering the man behind the alabaster figurehead. As soon as the professor signalled the end of the lecture, a collective sigh was released from the class. 
You turned to Ratio, and he was already staring at you. 
“What was it you wanted to say?”
“Tutor me please.”
He raised a brow. “Why?”
“Because you’re smart.”
“Pick someone else, then. I don’t see why I should.”
“You asshole, I’ll buy you lunch if you tutor me.”
He frowns at you as he begins to leave. You trail after him. “Please?”
He sighs deeply. Like a man burdened with the weight of his own world on his shoulders. Byron’s brooding, romantic hero, in his melodramatic glory. “Fine. Stop annoying me.”
You smile. “Thanks. Meet you at your dorm after dinner?”
He sighs again. “ Don’t be late or I'll lock the door and go to bed.”
He watched the seconds tick by in agonising motion – a man awaiting his sentence, but also his reprieve. Is this what his classmates felt before they took tests? It certainly seemed like it. Relief was on the horizon, and yet great suffering was imminent. He’d never known the feeling until now.
But as they say, the harder the rain, the sweeter the sun, and he wasn’t about to relinquish his quest to decipher you. 
It seemed mutual as he paced in front of his front door, having eaten dinner at the cafeteria early to mentally prepare himself. 
When your knock finally sounded at his door, he sighed, checked his watch, then reluctantly opened the door. 
You were a picture to behold. 
Hair slightly damp from a shower, drowning in loose, oversized clothing. It was all painfully domestic to see you walk through his doorway, scanning his living space. In the back of his mind, he thought it felt right, but he shook his head. 
You were messing with him again. 
Two could play that game. 
“Take a seat.” He pulled out a stool from his kitchen island. “Want a drink?”
“What, like alcohol?” you huffed. 
“Are you an alcoholic?”
“Only if you want me to be.” you shrug, setting down your notes on the bench.
He sighs exasperatedly, already berating himself for agreeing to this. He never agreed to tutor anyone. Why were you the exception? You shouldn’t be. 
His hypothesis: you were trying to get something out of him. A way to cheat the class, his academic favour, something hedonistic, even. It seemed plausible enough, but you listened intently as he explained the concepts the professor spoke of in the lecture, asking questions and actively engaging with his explanation. 
It didn’t seem like there was any ulterior motive. So why was he letting you break his rules and defy his nature?
“God, why didn't the prof explain it during that lesson? Everyone struggled.”
“You’re not smart enough to understand his concise methods, then.” he huffed. 
“You’re too smart.”
“You’re not smart enough.”
“Smart ass,”
“Get back to work. You did that question wrong, by the way.”
You groaned. “Where?”
He was so caught up in your quarrels that he didn’t notice the time grinding away at the pestle. It was nearly midnight when you’d finally caught up with that day’s classwork, and he sighed in relief. 
“You understand?”
“Yes. You don’t have to worry now.”
“I won’t. Now get out.”
“No drink?” you frowned, pretending to sulk at his expense. He simply stared at you, getting up from his stool and walking to the fridge. 
Remarkably, he pulled out two beers. 
“Don’t speak. If you do, I'll regret allowing you over again.”
A smile befell your lips. “I’m not saying anything.”
“I don’t like the look on your face.”
“Wipe it off then.”
A frown.  His new hypothesis: you were trying to seduce him for better grades, more tutoring sessions, or for his own downfall. 
“Drink and leave.”
“If you say so.” you take the chilled bottle and drink. He watches your throat move, and he thinks of himself as pathetic as he drinks as well, wincing at the bitterness. 
“Do you live by yourself?” you ask, head propped onto your hand. 
“I do.”
“Are you lonely or something?”
“No, people are irritating.” Like you.
“What a ray of sunshine you are.” You’re not much better.
“I don’t have to put up with any idiocy.”
“If you say so.”
Quiet passes as beer fizzes in the bottles, golden liquid sloshing at the sides of the glass. 
One thing you learn that night is that Veritas Ratio, the famed multiple time valedictorian of your university, is an extreme lightweight. His cheeks become red quicker than you can finish your bottle, and he starts to grumble nonsense under his breath. 
“You’re really smart, you know?” he suddenly says after mumbling something about quantum physics.
“What was that?” 
“You’re really smart. Really smart. Impressive.”
“Really?”
“Yes, you idiot, how many times do I have to repeat myself?” he leans on the bench, not entirely aware of his surroundings as he does so.  He squints at the ground. 
He’s a cute drunk, you realise begrudgingly.
“Thanks, Veritas. You’re smart too.”
“I know.” he drinks from his bottle again, swirling the dregs. “But I can’t figure you out.”
“Hm?”
“Why are you acting like this?”
“Like what?”
“Do you hate me?”
You hesitate for a moment. “Yes.”
“Then why are you like this?”
Your eyebrows raise. 
“You’re making me irrational. I can’t figure it out.”
“...Sorry?”
“You should be. You know, I was nearly late to class today because of you. You kept me awake.”
“Really?”
“I couldn’t stop thinking. Thoughts. And things.”
You laugh at his predicament, draining your beer and gathering your things. Trying to leave before he said anything that could turn the encounter south. 
“Wait. Don’t go.” he slams his palm onto your notes, determination in his eyes. 
“I need to go to bed.” you say as if scolding a child.
“I need to figure you out. You’re still an enigma to me. The anomaly of my behaviour. Is this your intention?”
“What are you talking about? You’re drunk.”
“I can think. I can move. I can see fine. I’m not drunk. Answer me.”
“Maybe I'm just so mesmerising to you.” you joke, but his brows furrowed in thought. 
“Maybe.” he retracts his hand from your notes, and you stow them away into your bag, slinging it onto your shoulder before he can do anything else. 
As you’re halfway to the door, he pushes you against the wall. 
You never realised how tall he was until then. How much of a height difference you had, or how muscular he was. He had to have worked out on a daily basis. The pungent smell of alcohol lingered on his breath, and his cheeks were tainted with deep red as he searched your gaze. 
You decide he’s officially lost his mind, but who were you to complain?
“Are you mesmerising?” he whispers, eyes trailing down your face, examining and analysing, his hand tracing down your body with those slender scholar’s hands.
“You tell me.”
Then he grabs your face and mashes your lips together. The kiss is rough, biting and rushed. You freeze for a sliver of a second before returning it, letting him decide your allure with his own devices. 
He pulls away almost too fast, lips kiss bitten, breath fast. 
“You’re a siren.”
“Am I?”
“You’re going to ruin me.”
“What a weak man you are, if it only takes one woman to ruin you.”
“I hate you.”
“Really?”
“I hate it because I’d probably let you.”
“Are you a masochist?”
“Not in my right mind. I’ll wake up and regret everything, but it’ll all be the same, fundamentally.”
“So what’s your conclusion?”
He still has you pushed against the wall, caged within himself. “You were put into this world to bring about my destruction.”
“How? Why?”
“You’re my opposite. Brash, naive, carefree.”
“Are you normally this analytical of people?”
“No, which supports my point.”
“I see. So you’re going to let me ruin your image?”
“No. I hate you for it.”
“Let me go then.”
He wordlessly steps away, and you stumble to the door. 
“So what are we?” you ask, turned away from him. You can’t see the way he drinks in your visage like a starving man, and the small, sober part of him is grateful for it. 
“Polar opposites.”
“I mean who am I to you?”
He’s silent for a while, so you turn back to him to find him leaning on the wall, gazing into space. 
“Veritas?”
“You’re my undoing. A catalyst, maybe, for my downfall. But there must be balance, right? So what are you?”
“What am I?”
“I don’t know.”
You knew then that he was beyond reason. Was this what you did to him? You took some sadistic pride in seeing a man such as himself reduced to a mumbling, questioning, incoherent mess. You were somewhat pleased with the effect you had on him., but you could never let him know this. 
He crumpled to the floor, back to the wall, clutching his head in his hands. “I’ll figure you out.”
“Sure you will. Goodnight, Veritas.”
“Night.”
Your smile was brighter than the morning as you left his apartment, embracing the night’s welcoming chill. 
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written by @atlaswav , published 15th of July 2024
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sp4ceboo · 8 months ago
Note
NO NEED FOR ME TO HIDE🙏🏾🙏🏾
Bestie, are you going to continue Atonement universe?🥺 I am very curious on how their interactions could look like in the future, now that they have an accurate understanding of their intents
A/N: U ASKED JUST THE RIGHT QUESTION MY FAVOURITE BUNNY, but bc im evil i've made this into a bunch of feyd headcanons even tho no one asked
tw: 18+, smut headcanons (switch feyd ladies and gents), cannibalism (by the harpies), i dropkick everyone with feyd's trauma, therefore mentions of sa and pedophilia (fuck you vladimir), 'who did this to you' because man if that's not one of the yummiest things ever, nightmares, children and pregnancy, also sterility, swearing somewhere probably,
wc: 2.3k
part 1 (this can be read as a stand alone, it's just feyd headcanons)
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feyd does everything he can to make up for how he treated you in the first months of your marriage
you assure him that it's fine, that he doesn't have to beat himself up over what he has done, but you still notice the pain in his eyes when he looks at you
he hovers close to you at all times, keeping a hand at the small of your back or pulling you close into his side
it's a strange process, only getting to know your husband in the fourth month of your marriage, but it's a process that you treasure
you'll ask him silly things from his favourite food to his opinions on the carvings on the table over there whenever the questions occur to you
it's late at night, while he's gently cleaning you up after sex or holding you tightly in his arms, your head tucked under his chin, when he tells you the deeper, more painful things
the grief in his voice is so raw as he describes to you how his uncle pitted him and rabban against each other from a young age, how his childhood was stolen from him - you ache for him, for the things that were taken from him before he could even fight for them
you find out about his nightmares soon after that - not because he tells you, but because one happens
you suspect there was something he wasn't quite ready to tell you, but you didn't press; no hands have handled feyd's heart the way he lets you, and you're determined to honour that privilege
a storm howls outside, and you think that the rumbles of thunder were what woke you
you turn over and realise it's feyd, his features contorted with fear even in his sleep, eyes rolling under the lids as he trembles, broken pleas leaving his lips
all you catch is a 'don't' and a 'please, uncle'
something cold slithers down your spine
touching his face, you grab his shoulder, shaking him, whispering his name, trying to wake him gently
a tear leaks down his cheek, and a meek sound leaves him, ripping your heart in two - you need to wake him up, free him from this dream
'feyd.'
his eyes snap open, and in them, you clearly see the expression of a trapped, cornered animal
you say his name again, and he looks at you sharply, unseeing
he's awake and yet somehow he's still trapped in the nightmare; he wraps his hands around your throat, and you gasp, nails digging into his forearms in an effort to wake him up
with precious air, you rasp out his name again, and he blinks, slowly gaining consciousness
his face crumples when he finds his hands around your neck
distress limns his features as he backs away from you, shaking his head, horrified by his own doing
your head spins with lack of air but you reach out to him, refusing to let him slip away - you snare him in your arms, hold him tightly, kiss his face
he doesn't move, afraid to hurt you
you pull back to stare him in the eyes
'i'm okay. i am okay. you hear me, feyd? i'm fine. i'm not hurt.'
he buries his face in your shoulder and when you feel hot tears on your skin, rage simmers and seethes, wrathful in your chest
'who did this to you?'
your voice is dripping with fury; he shakes with a sob, and you run your hands up and down his back, trying to soothe him and the anger inside you
eventually, he calms, and you tilt his face up, gently wiping the tears off his cheeks, waiting
he holds out his arms again, and you oblige him, letting him hide his face in your shoulder as he tells you the substances of his nightmares - memories of the baron, eyes rabid, hands reaching, and it makes you tremble with rage
you crush feyd in your grip, and he clings onto you, his eyes wet, letting you anchor his drowning spirit
the two of you fall asleep twined together, feyd cradled in your embrace
in the morning, you cup his face in your hands and tell him that you will protect him, fight for him, love him until your blood stills in your veins
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one of the first thing feyd does is dismiss his harpies from their duties
originally, he was going to get rid of them permanently, but you convinced him not to, telling him you wanted to meet them
to be honest, feyd didn't really understand (he thought you wanted to 'use' them for a bit and was kind of taken aback until you reassured him you just wanted to talk to them)
he stayed in the room anyways, knowing that his harpies could be jealous, but he had nothing to fear
all you do is chat to them, and in the same way you charmed him, you charm them
feyd marvels at the way you reach out to them and connect with them with so much ease, laughing and joking with them, complimenting their pretty eyes and tattoos as if they are your long time friends
from then on, they are no longer feyd's harpies, but yours
they accompany you around the palace and sometimes to court
the latter causes quite a stir; none of the nobles can make sense of why the na-baron's feral cannibal troupe are now dressed in fine clothing and following the na-baronness around
you enjoy their company - they brighten your day considerably, and are not afraid to make remarks a little too loudly in front of nobles
you have to hide your laughter when one of them comments on the scruffy facial hair of the duke addressing feyd, even more so when he stares at them wide eyed, a little fearful of them
in a way, they protect you and you protect them
if a noble approaches you with disrespect, they'll joke loudly among themselves about the taste of his flesh
in the same way, if someone makes a snide remark of their presence, you're quick to challenge it
the perplexed look on feyd's face amuses you to no end when he realises they prefer you now
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feyd and the harpies teach you about harkonnen culture
feyd especially tells you stories about how he hunted on forests long cut down when he was a boy, and you love to listen to him, watching his face and drinking in the softer, nostalgic tone in his voice
he shows himself to you in little ways
feyd complains to you about the nobles in the court, how he hates their decorum and their entitlement
he talks to you for hours about different fighting forms, occasionally getting up to demonstrate them to you, and you marvel at the accuracy and fluidity of his movements
he takes you to his favourite parts of giedi prime, shows you the volcanoes and the less polluted parts of the capital city
he tells you the story of every scar on his body, and you find yourself captivated by the look in his eyes as he recalls a good fight
he whispers on your skin promises - promises of love, sweet on his tongue but never cloying, always true
in turn he asks you about your old life, about your home planet and your family
you answer happily, loving the way his eyes follow you, their blue tone becoming your favourite colour
you tell him about the time you visited to see him fight, how you saw the fire within him even then, and he chuckles, enthralled by the idea that even when the two of you were too young to really comprehend what your arranged marriage meant, you were still drawn to each other
he tells you how when he raised his knife, victorious, he spotted you in the crowd - a small girl, her back ram rod straight - and thought you were the sweetest thing he'd ever laid his eyes on
not that you seemed breakable to him; no, he thought you were formidable, too, not even bothering to hide your frown in an arena of cheering, happy faces
it felt right that he would marry a woman who wasn't afraid of him
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feyd teaches you how to fight
he delights in the way you grow so bold with him, delivering snarky remarks if he teases you, rising to meet everything he throws at you
you're a good fighter - unpredictable in your moves - and he's immeasurably proud that he was the one who taught you
sometimes, once you're good enough to duel, you'll end up staggering to the nearest somewhat secluded area to fuck
now that you know you're not alone, you're so confident of yourself, confident in the electrifying look in your eyes and confident in the way you make him beg
feyd never thought he'd like to give up control, but with you it's addicting
he trusts you
he lets you ravage him, lets you use him until he's spent, panting, thighs shaking, knowing that you would let him do the same - knowing that you do let him do the same
there's something so raw about letting himself go in your touch
his head spins when you tie him up, your deft fingers checking the knots and tightening the bindings across his torso, making art with his skin as the canvas
feyd is addicted to you in every aspect
he can't get enough of your pussy; he'd spend hours between your legs, pulling sounds out of you that you didn't know you could make
he thinks that the closest he's ever come to heaven is when he's buried balls deep in your cunt while you beg him harder, faster
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A/N: i couldn't choose between these two scenarios so have both
EITHER after almost a year, you begin to wonder why you haven't pregnant
especially with the way feyd fucks you
so you seek the help of a doctor - the test results come back a week after, accusatory, damning
you're sterile
your first reaction is to tell feyd, but once you find yourself face to face with him, his gaze concerned as he holds your waist, you can't tell him
you just fall into his arms, staying your tears, doubts crawling into your skull and gnawing at the edges of your mind
you can't give him an heir
there's no way around it
what if he takes a concubine? what if he realises you serve no purpose to him? what if he stops loving you?
feyd doesn't pry about the tests results until the next day when he finds you in the shower, hands trembling and head bowed
he tips your chin up so he can look you in the eye
'tell me what troubles you, my love.'
so you do, with his fingers curled around your waist, the shower water running over your skin
he kisses you once you finish, and it tears at his heart the way you're looking up at him, trying to hide the worry in your eyes as you wait for his reply
feyd doesn't mince his words when he tells you that he doesn't care if you cannot give him an heir, that all he asks of you is to let him love you - it's then that the tears fall, and he kisses them away, holding you close to him
you grieve for the children you can never have, but feyd remains by you, almost supernatural with the way he senses your pain
your gaze might fall upon one of the servant's children, causing an ache in your heart, and within a few seconds his fingers will twine with yours and he'll tuck you into his side, kissing your hair
OR you have twins: one girl, one boy
the girl is three minutes older than the boy
feyd is obssessed with your pregnant body; he always has his hands on you in some way
he gets more protective, if that's possible
sometimes he lies between your thighs, his palms spread over your stomach as he talks to the two of them, and the softness and wonder in his eyes brings a warmth to your chest
feyd is with you when you feel the first contraction and promptly carries you to the midwives
he lets you crush his hand in your grip as you give birth to the lives you've made together, wiping the sweat off your forehead and quietly encouraging you
the first time you hand them to him to hold, he's hesitant, hands fluttering over you as he figures out what to do, but he's a fast learner
there's a fierce protective glint in his eyes when he cradles them in his arms, one that you glimpse when he looks at you too, and within it there's a deep, pure joy
he teaches them how to fight, and yet he's still so gentle with them, laughing as they giggle and cling to him, one latched onto each leg
the girl is how you'd imagine feyd was as a boy: half feral, yet charming when she wants to be, while the boy is a little calmer, more unflappable, and happy to entertain his sister's mischievous endeavours
both love the harpies, and there have been multiple times when you walk in on the twins gaping wide eyed at the harpies as they regale them with old tales
sometimes, feyd will scoop them up, one in each arm, so they can reach up and give you a little kiss on the cheek before he pecks your lips
you think it's beautiful, the family that you've made with him
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feyd loves the way you look at him, with that mischief in your eyes, as if you're sharing a secret with him
he loves your sweet laughter, the softness in your hands when you touch him and how you don't shy away from protecting him, defiant even in his uncle's presence
he knows he would kill for you, die for you - he'd do anything for you
you would do the same: it makes feyd's head fuzzy, when you get so fiercely protective over him, placing your hand on his shoulder as you glare at the baron, lacing your words with venom when you address him
you'd stop at nothing, just to protect his honour
when you're after something, nothing stands in your way, and yet you can handle him with such soft, gentle hands, banishing his nightmares with the light tracing of your fingertips on his back
feyd heals in your presence, and you grow in his
your love is eternal
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