#and I'd just like them to know I respect it with my whole heart
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Now that I'm dipping my toes into the waters of literary translation, I'm really starting to have a new level of appreciation for good translation and it's nice bc woah that's a whole new way I can enjoy reading a book
#studyblr#literary translation#booklr#one good example is the Hungarian translation of the shades of magic series bc just the titles alone are such bangers it's insane#the person who decided to translate 'a conjuring of light' as 'fényigéző' was rlly thinking outside the box#and I'd just like them to know I respect it with my whole heart#also the person who translated Tolstaya's кысь/the slynx to Hungarian did such an amazing job with such a difficult novel#I was reading with jaw dropped at some points#on the other hand you also start noticing translation mistakes and I found two in the Hungarian translation of#v. e. schwab's new book the fragile threads of power#still an amazing book and a good translation tho!!#shrews readings
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#this video just Did Something to me holy shit#i was joking around the whole day but this genuinely made me feel like i was in 2014 again#it's all in portuguese (well the german players are speaking in german/english but there's a voiceover)#but i want it here bc it's easier to find later#(idk why i'd want to find it later. i'm having a moment.)#anyway i didn't know their uniform looked like flamengo's on purpose that's kinda hilarious. and sweet.#they were all very sweet. and respectful. which is kinda what the article is about#really nice guys. don't regret rooting for them against arg*ntina in the finals#podolski specifically was an absolute sweetheart. beijos podolski#i also just CAN'T get mad at our players i'm sorry. i got so emotionally attached to them that world cup#seeing them cry in the video broke my heart all over again#(it was a very immersive piece of journalism ok? could've made me like n*ymar again if he was in it)#c: football#e: men world cup 2014#e: 7x1#brasil tag#c: germany#r: germany mnft#t: talk post
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AGORA HILLS | ln4
SOCIAL MEDIA!AU lando norris x fem!russell!reader
side note: i'm depressed and the f1 season is starting soon again so here we go. side note pt2: this is kinda short and the ending feels rushed but oh well
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y/n_russell permanent shenanigans
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user1 oh that's not-
user2 oh she didn't- yes she did
user3 y/n getting a lando norris tramp stamp was not on my 2023 bingo card ⤷ user4 i don't think it was ever on anyone's bingo card
landonorris mine ⤷ y/n_russell yours 🤞
user5 i can't decide if it's cringe or a major slay
georgerussell63 i don't know if i should strangle you or norris ⤷ y/n_russell maybe neither of us?
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y/n_russell pizza boy always knows how to capture my heart
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user6 lando and y/n being in their hot couple era was not on my 2024 bingo card ⤷ user7 no couple does it like y/n and lando
user8 i'm a bit concerned about their recent behaviour, ngl
landonorris i'm a professional pizza boy off season ⤷ y/n_russell earning some extra money to spoil your girl? ⤷ user9 so you admit you use lando for his money? ⤷ y/n_russell sorry your partner apparently doesn't know how to treat you. i'd be bitter as well if i were you
user10 y/n being totally unhinged is my favourite type of media ⤷ user11 george being the emotionally older sibling and y/n being the unbothered younger sibling makes so much sense
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y/n_russell to clear some things up: obviously george isn't always happy with how lando and i present our relationship (online or not) but that doesn't mean he hates lando?! i'm his little sister, it's natural he doesn't always enjoy what lando and i do. nonetheless, lando and george have been friends for ages! this was literally them on our shared holiday in '23! carmen and i were third-wheeling the whole time lol. george can sometimes be a little cold but that's just how he processes things, it doesn't mean he's not supportive of my relationship with lando. please respect that.
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y/n_russell accurate representation of how i felt after watching george and lando's "drama" on drive to survive. now i understand why y'all blew this whole situation up.
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user12 now she knows how we all felt watching that episode
user13 me when i watch dts in general
user14 me when i hear the dutch national anthem yet again
user15 me when i think of charles not winning wdc because ferrari literally sucks
landonorris me when i realise y/n won't attend every race ⤷ y/n_russell um excuse me i'm a working gyal
user16 me when life
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y/n_russell maybe i should become lando's and george's pr manager when it means getting flowers from their teams
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user17 no cuz that is so cute that they sent her flowers cuz she solved the whole lando-george drama
user18 that's why they both are my favourite teams
mclaren the contract is ready to be signed! ⤷ mercedesamgf1 not if she choses us first! after all, blood is thicker than water
user19 not mclaren and mercedes fighting over y/n
user20 i wonder which flowers are from who
#f1 imagine#f1 imagines#f1 fanfiction#f1 smau#f1 fluff#f1 social media au#f1 instagram au#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 x y/n#lando norris imagine#lando norris imagines#lando norris x reader#lando norris#lando norris fanfic#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lano norris smau#lando norris fluff
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I can't stop staring at Feyd-Rautha's walk here and what it implies about his fight with Paul now that I'm able to stop just comparing it to Timothy's killer body work matching it (or vice versa).
Villeneuve takes the book canon, that the Harkonnens took the Atredies's morbid heirlooms of an oil painting of grandfather's death and the bull's head with his blood still dried on his horns to hang above the arena as trophies to the next level: making Feyd-Rautha the victorious young matador with the guards dressed as bull-minotaurs, circling to play banderillos and sink banderillas into the backs of the Atredies bull if it gets too close before the final faena has Feyd-Rautha pulling his opponent past him in the close, intimate passes that show off his athleticism and skill before his false blade is exchanged for the one that will be used for the killing blow and oh my god there are whole schools of thought on coming forward to meet your opponent vs waiting for them and killing with a single blow to the heart and honoring the fight and if anyone who knows how to make gifsets wants make one about this to I'd LOVE to rant more about the breakdown of these two fights and how Feyd is 1001% Matador Machismo but my point to all of this is:
Look at that Sand.
Look at his feet dig deep and kick it up as he strides out into the heart of that arena. Is it a rhythmic walk? Oh yes. Confident. Powerful. In the book this will be his 100th arena kill as he comes of age. This is his natural habitat. Where he learned his skills, for us to parallel with what we saw for Paul in Part 1.
This matters, because it's one of the main premises for why the Fremen are so Good At Fighting. When everyone is trained to fight with shields (stun then slow) and bulky armor, and on flat, solid ground with lots of cover, it's easy to be fast and silent and terrifyingly effective against them. Gurney Halleck is shown to be one of the best fighters in the franchise and the film makes a point of showing how his (recognizable) footsteps are not suited to move quickly, lightly, and with stability on sand like they are on solid ground.
Only... Bullfighting rings aren't sandy. They're fairly hardpacked. Earth for the bull and Matador to maneuver in quickly. There is a layer of albero traditionally layered on top, a chunky yellow clay dirt that serves aesthetics but also absorbs blood quickly. The idea the sand may not be white because... With Giedi Prime who knows?! Is Fantastic.
Paul Muad'Dib became the only Atredies to be recognized as Fremen, to see his father's dream of Desert Power recognized, to fight as Fedaykin, to be recognized as the Mahdi, the One Who Points The Way, and it is made clear to us from the opening words of a Child's History of Muad'Dib that Arrakis was his Home, and yet every major one-on-one duel he had from Jamis to Feyd-Rautha was on solid ground, giving him an advantage that made him respected as a fighter among the Fedaykin right away as part of his training.
Feyd-Rautha was the one Harkonnen who may have learned combat primarily or even exclusively with sand beneath his feet, and he died on Arrakis on the polished stone floors of a palatial residence, still trying to play by Matador rules.
thank u for coming to my Ted Talk
#dune meta#feyd rautha harkonnen#paul atreides#dune part 2#burn after scrolling#dune#dune 2024#feyd rautha#house harkonnen#feydpaul#duneposting
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This is probably small in the grand scheme of things, but how did Emilie being noble play any impact in the story at all?
I mean, I'd get it if it was just a small detail to help deepen Emilie's character, but why nobility of all things? I don't know, from what I'm seeing so far, the whole "Emilie renounced her noble title" shtick just feels worthless if it's not going to impact the story or add depth to Emilie's character (like maybe upbringing or personal values?).
I don't know. Like everything else, the noble part just feels shallow and means nothing to the story, especially for a character like Emilie, who is the plot device for the whole show. Any detail about her, like her personality and life story, is supposed to influence the story and characters one way or another, namely Hawkmoth since she's his driving force.
So what was the point?
For context, this ask is about Félix's play which says that Emilie gave up her title to be with Gabriel. I'm gonna give a slightly larger section of the transcript of the play for full context, but the relevant but is at the end of the last paragraph:
Félix: The king and queen's twins grew up, each day as different in heart as they were similar in body. The firstborn, curious and brazen, despised life at court and escaped at every opportunity. The younger daughter, well-behaved and respectful, did everything she could to please her parents, and stayed quietly in the castle. Félix: (as Mr. Graham de Vanily) Oh, my queen. Did we entrust our legacy to the right princess? Kagami: (as Mrs. Graham de Vanily) She will fall in line, eventually. Félix: Confident that she would settle down as she matured, the king and queen allowed the curious princess to leave to study beyond the sea in another kingdom. There, she immediately found true love in a humble tailor. Félix: The tailor was making clothes so magnificent that they revealed the beauty of the soul of anyone who wore them. Although it made her parents furious, the curious princess gave up her rank, her wealth and her kingdom to live a bohemian life with the tailor.
Story wise, I have no idea why any of this was added since it adds nothing to canon. It's not like this finally explains why Gabriel and Emilie are poor while Amelie is wealthy. Along similar lines, it's not like Amelie's title has ever mattered. Prior to this play, I don't think that we even knew that she had a title or that she was the younger sister. The play is all about explaining things that we never had reasons to question in the first place.
My best guess as to why the writers wrote this pointless backstory is that they wanted to make Emilie seem even more pure and perfect so they went with the tired old trope of a rich girl giving up material things for the sake of love and art because good pure women don't care about material things! Only nasty, shallow women care about money. (Way to play into sexist tropes, guys.)
There may also be cultural elements at play here given that France doesn't have the greatest history with nobility, so giving up a noble title may be seen as good and pure to a French writer, but I don't know enough about French culture to say that with any certainty. If anyone who reads this blog is French and would like to chime in, then feel free!
While we're on the topic of the play, I wanted to point out that the above quoted passage is why I say that the Graham de Vanily parents can be as kind or as abusive as you'd like to make them. It's incredibly vague and you can read into it whatever you want to read into it. Were they good loving parents who were just upset about their daughter living in poverty or were they miserable controlling classist who Emilie fled England to get away from? It's up to you because you can get both reads from this. The play commits to almost nothing of value. Politicians could take lessons from this impressive level of noncommittal writing.
A better version of the play would have focused on things that actually matter to canon like the details of finding the miraculous and/or Emilie learning she's sick, but you could only have those details if they were coming from Nathalie or Gabriel. Félix is a terrible choice for a character to tell us the show's backstory because he knows so little of it, thus the play focusing on his largely pointless backstory.
#blckwhtepersona#ml writing critical#ml writing salt#Side note but looking up transcripts for this seasons is a total nightmare#The episode names are so confusing I keep thinking the play was in “Revelation” but it's actually “Representation”#Whoever came up with the names for this season is at the top of my shit list
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Dunk and Joong could have offered me anything in 2024, and I would have taken it, gladly, no questions because my ass is a Jaidee fan first and a human second. But to hand me The Heart Killers? Oh! Let me list all the reasons y'all gonna hate me when this comes out.
Joong plays Khao's older brother
Khaotung is older than Joong, but in BL Land that doesn't matter because Khao is playing the hopeless romantic little brother while Joong is playing his stern older brother. Someone already wrote it was 10 Things I Hate About You/The Taming of the Shrew, and Shakespeare would be thrilled to know one of his masterpieces is getting the queer treatment and it's not Twelfth Night.
Dunk is playing the crazy seducer
Boy wants a car and is willing to go to great lengths to do it, including distracting some dude, so his buddy can play house with that dude's little brother. But the whole point is they had to find a guy who was crazy enough to accept the offer in the first place >insert Dunk's character< so the guy isn't just wanting the car. He is doing this for the thrill of getting tied up, stripped down, and threatened.
And I respect that.
Jojo is apparently directing
I wanna have beef with Jojo after Only Friends, then I look at his resume and remember this is the man who gave me puppy play in The Warp Effect, poly in 3 Will Be Free, and a chaotic stripper named Judo in Dirty Laundry PLUS the YinWar trailer for their Partner in Crime concert which has now lead to YinWar doing Jack & Joker, so as a vegetarian, I'm gonna be like Elsa and let that go.
Which means Rath is probably the cinematographer
I don't give men compliments easily, so when I state that Cinematographer Rath has never disappointed me, I mean it. The man knows what he is doing, and if he is in on this series, I know if anything, it will be visually stunning.
First and Khao being the Beyonce of GMMTV
I'm in Jaidee's corner always, but I have eyes and First and Khao could really do whatever they want and I'd eat it up. I have believed them with whomever they have been partnered with in the past, and if they want to play high schoolers in an oppressed school system or a banker willing to see his ex and his ex's new man just to flirt with the boy from the market, I'm buying the tickets, I'm sitting in the front row, and I'm holding up homemade posters. Basically, I'm shutting the fuck up and experiencing whatever they want me to experience.
First and Khao tears
This is its own category because when they cry, they are in a league of their own. They claimed this series was going to be lighter than their previous work, but what is a First or Khao series without tears? I hope they are drinking water right now because someone is crying in this series, and JD's faces are already wet for other reasons.
DUNK'S BODY!
Not to objectify the man's body, but . . . it's a banger, and he has been done dirty by wardrobe for two solid years. His face card never declines. His arms are solid. His waist is snatched. His hair is perfect. Even Tay, New, and Jan were talking about him in the BTS for Peaceful Property because they were saying how New's character was based off of Dunk - pretty, fashionable, and COCKY! But wouldn't we all be that cocky if we were walking around looking like this?! Like shut up fives. A ten is speaking!
It's high time that man got to stunt like Force always does just taking off his shirt for no reason. Good for him. And good for us.
Oh, yeah, and the plot
Sorry, I mean the plot.
SHIT, THE PLOT!
You know what? Nah. I honestly do not give a fuck about the plot. Joong and Khao are hired killers. First is out to get them. Dunk gets involved (although, I think he knows a lot more than he leads on), and . . .
All will end well.
Because if anything, Jojo ain't never been allergic to a happy ending *wink*
So just know this show hit its target audience
ME!
¡Salud!
#the heart killers#gmmtv 2024#joongdunk#firstkhao#this was meant for me!#rath and jojo save me!#give me chaos and visuals#I'll take whatever you give me#I'm still gotta talk smack about everything else#but I'll be quieter about it
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Wife On Repeat
Reader(Wife) X Bruce Wayne(Husband)
Summery: Bruce goes on an interview, and during his interview he wouldn't stop talking about you.
Rating: Fluff, slight spicy(if you squint your eyes and turn your head sideways.)
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"Welcome back, folks," the host, Janelle, flashed a gleaming smile as the commercial break concluded. "And tonight, we have a truly remarkable individual joining us. An inspiration to millions, a legend in his own right. Ladies and gentlemen, let's give a warm welcome to Bruce Wayne!"
The studio audience erupted into applause as Bruce emerged from behind the velvet curtains. He was impeccably dressed, as always, his jaw firmly set, and his eyes focused on the cameras. He took his seat opposite Janelle.
"Mr. Wayne, we're absolutely thrilled to have you here," Janelle said, her voice a mix of excitement and professionalism.
"Oh, Janelle, it's an honor to be here," Bruce responded with a courteous nod, his deep voice resonating through the studio. "I might even say I've been here before, but then I realize that you're show is always on my 12th living room Tv."
The audience chuckled at Bruce's light-hearted remark, easing the tension that always seemed to follow him. Janelle leaned in, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Now, as a man with such an illustrious career, we're all dying to know, what drives you?"
"Well, Janelle," Bruce replied with a twinkle in his eye, "you might say it's my chauffeur."
The audience chuckled again, and Janelle couldn't help but laugh along. "Seriously though," she said, "what motivates you to get out of bed in the morning?"
Bruce's smile remained, but there was a sudden shift in his demeanor, a softening of his eyes. "My wife, she usually has to shove me out of bed in the morning," he joked, his tone light but tinged with a hint of something deeper. "But in all seriousness, it's my wife and sons that keep me going. They're my rock, my reason."
The camera zoomed in on his face, capturing the sincerity of his words. Janelle nodded, her own expression a blend of admiration and curiosity. "You speak of your wife, Mr. Wayne, but you never mention her name. Is there a particular reason for that?"
Bruce's smile never wavered, but his eyes grew distant for a brief moment, as if looking into a memory. "Let's just say she's a very private person, and I like to respect her wishes. Plus, I think the mystery adds a bit of intrigue to the whole billionaire philanthropist package, don't you think?" He winked at Janelle, and the audience laughed in response.
"Well, I'm sure swim suit modals and Russian ballerina, are sadden to see you off the market," Janelle said with a playful smile, eliciting another round of laughter from the audience.
"Ah, the perils of fame," Bruce chuckled. "But in all seriousness, she's the love of my life, I wouldn't have her any other way."
The interview progressed, with Janelle asking him about his latest ventures in tech and philanthropy. Yet, she found herself drawn back to the topic of his family life. "You have quite the brood of young men, Mr. Wayne," she said, glancing at her notes. "Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian. They're all so accomplished in their own right. Tell us a bit about them."
"Well, my wife would tell you that each of our sons mostly take after me, but I'd say with a sprinkle of their mother's charm and grace," Bruce said with a proud smile. "Dick is the eldest. He's taken after me in a lot of ways, but he's also forged his own path. He's got a strong sense of justice, and he's not afraid to get his hands dirty to make the world a better place. Sometimes he'll literally get dirty, and my wife has to remind him to wash up before dinner."
The audience chuckled, and Bruce's gaze grew more intense as he continued. "Jason, on the other hand, is the wild card. He's got this fiery passion that can either set the world alight or burn bridges. But usually my wife is the one putting out the fires."
"Then there's Tim," Bruce went on, a hint of warmth in his voice. "The brains of the bunch. He's got a mind like a computer—no, better than a computer. And he uses it for good, just like his mother always taught him. He's got a gentle soul, but don't let that fool you. He's as tenacious as they come when he sets his sights on something. I think he picked that up from my wife."
"And finally," Janelle prompted, "what can you tell us about Damian?"
Bruce's smile grew wistful. "Ah, Damian. He's the youngest, but he's got the heart of a lion. And the stubbornness to match. He's a bit of a handful, I won't lie. But he's also the most loving and fiercely loyal little guy I know. He's got a bit of his mother's grace in him, which I'm sure she's thrilled about, and he's learning to channel his intensity into positive outlets. I can't wait to see what he'll achieve when he's all grown up. Though I think my wife would argue that he's already achieved quite a bit."
Janelle nodded, scribbling down notes. "It seems you're very proud of your sons," she said.
"I am," Bruce said, his eyes glowing with pride. "But it's my wife who truly deserves the credit. She's the glue that holds us all together. Without her, we'd all be lost."
Janelle leaned back in her chair, her gaze thoughtful. "I couldn't help but notice how often you brought up your wife," she said. "It's clear she plays a significant role in your life and the lives of your sons."
"She does," Bruce agreed, his voice filled with a warmth that seemed to radiate through the studio. "She's the unsung hero behind the Wayne legacy. Without her, none of this would be possible."
"How did you two meet?" Janelle asked, her curiosity piqued.
Bruce took a deep breath, his eyes glazing over as if lost in a cherished memory. "Well, Janelle, that's a story for another night," he said, a knowing smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "But I can tell you that she walked into my life when I least expected it, and she changed everything."
The audience leaned in, hanging onto every word. Janelle, sensing the gravity of the moment, decided not to push further. "Let's move on to your philanthropic efforts," she said, switching topics. "Your newest venture, the Wayne Foundation, is making waves with its innovative approach to solving global issues. Can you tell us more about that?"
"My wife's idea," Bruce said, his eyes lighting up with excitement. "She saw a need for a more personal approach to giving back. We wanted to create a foundation that didn't just throw money at problems, but actually rolled up its sleeves and got involved in the community. We've started with education and environmental initiatives, but our goal is to expand into healthcare and social justice as well. She's the heart of it all, the one who keeps me grounded and reminds me that it's not about the size of the donation, but the impact it makes."
As Janelle nodded, she couldn't help but feel the genuine love and admiration Bruce had for his wife. It was clear she wasn't just a partner in life, but also in his mission to make a difference.
The interview continued, with Bruce explaining the intricate details of the Wayne Foundation's projects. His passion for the cause was palpable, and it was evident that his wife's influence had been instrumental in shaping the foundation's core values. The audience listened intently, inspired by the depth of his commitment and the quiet strength of the woman who remained behind the scenes.
"Well, that's all the time we have for tonight," Janelle announced as the interview drew to a close. "Thank you, Bruce Wayne, for giving us a glimpse into your fascinating life and the incredible work you do. And of course, a special thank you to the woman who stands by your side, even if she's not here in the flesh."
"Thank you, Janelle," Bruce said with a nod. "I'm sure she's watching," he added, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "And she's probably cringing at every sappy thing I've said."
The audience erupted in laughter as Janelle wrapped up the segment. "Well, folks, there you have it," she said as the lights dimmed. "The enigmatic Bruce Wayne, opening up about his life's work and the woman who fuels his passion. Thank you for watching and we're going to take a quick break. When we come back, we'll be discussing the latest in celebrity gossip."
The cameras switched off and Bruce took a moment to collect himself. The mention of his wife had stirred up a whirlwind of emotions. He had always been careful about what he shared with the public, but tonight, he had allowed himself to be more open than ever before. The warmth of the studio lights began to feel stifling, and he longed for the cool embrace of the night.
Once arriving home, Bruce found his mansion ablaze with lights, a stark contrast to the quiet solitude he had left behind in the TV studio.
"Welcome home, Master Bruce," Alfred, his ever-faithful butler, greeted him at the door. "Your presence was quite enchanting on television tonight. Your mysterious charm has not waned."
Bruce chuckled, peeling off his tie. "Thanks, Alfred," he said, his gaze drifting to the grand staircase. "I think it's time for me to check in with the real star of the show."
Alfred nodded knowingly, his eyes twinkling. "Indeed, she's been waiting for your return."
Bruce took the stairs two at a time, his heart racing with anticipation. He found you in your private study, surrounded by books and papers, your eyes glued to the computer screen. You looked up as he entered, a soft smile playing on your lips. "Welcome back," your said, your voice warm as you get up to greet him. You're arms wrapped around him in an embrace that felt more like a homecoming than a simple greeting.
He held you tightly, burying his face in your hair, inhaling your sweet scent. "How'd it go?" you whispered.
"You watched it, didn't you?" he said, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes.
"I had to make sure you didn't spill any of our secrets," you teased, brushing a strand of hair from his face.
Bruce chuckled, his arms tightening around you. "You know me, I'm a pro at keeping secrets," he murmured. "But it went smoothly, all things considered. Janelle was quite the interviewer."
You stepped away, a playful smirk on your face. "Or you're just eager to spill everything about your love life on national television," you said, raising an eyebrow.
"Maybe I did get carried away," Bruce admitted with a chuckle, his gaze following you as you moved to the minibar to pour him a whiskey. He took the glass gratefully, his eyes never leaving yours. "But when it comes to you, I find it hard not to." Taking a sip of the amber liquid, he let out a contented sigh.
You took a seat on the couch, your legs crossed elegantly, and your arms resting on the back of the cushion. "Well, with everything you told Janelle tonight, I don't think I'll be revealing myself any time soon," you said, your voice a perfect blend of humor and affection.
Bruce sat down next to you, his eyes never leaving yours as he took another sip of whiskey. "I have to let them know how lucky I am without them getting all… obsessive," he said with a smirk.
You rolled your eyes playfully. "I couldn't help but notice how you avoided the question of how we met."
Bruce took a long sip of his whiskey, his eyes twinkling. "Some secrets are better left untold," he said, his voice low and mysterious. "But if I did, a few… other secrets would come to light."
You leaned in, intrigued. "Oh? And what might those secrets be?"
Bruce set his whiskey glass down with a clink, his eyes alight with mischief. "Well, thinking back, it would be interesting telling them the real story of how we met," he began, his tone playful yet filled with a sense of nostalgia. "Imagine their faces when I tell them it was in a dark alley, not at some fancy gala or charity event."
You couldn't help but laugh, the sound as enchanting as it was unexpected. "Only you could turn a mugging into a romantic meet-cute," you said, shaking your head.
"Well, when you put it that way," Bruce said with a grin, his arm sliding around your shoulders with yours coming down. "But really, it was your fiery spirit and quick thinking that night that made me fall for you."
You playfully slapped his chest. "Fiery spirit? I was just trying not to get shot."
"And you did it with such poise," Bruce said, his eyes warm with admiration. "But yes, that's when I knew you were special. And when I saw you handle those thugs with nothing but a pair of heels and a handbag…"
You blushed, the memory still vivid in your mind. "Well, I'd like to think I've improved since then."
Bruce leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. "And you have, in more ways than you know," he said, his gaze lingering on your face. "But I'll always remember that night, when I realized I'd met my match."
You raised an eyebrow at his dramatic tone. "The Joker?" You joked, trying to lighten the mood. "I don't recall seeing the Joker there."
Bruce leaned closer, his breath warm against your cheek. "No, not the Joker. But someone equally as formidable," he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Someone who could handle the chaos of Gotham and still look good in a pantsuit."
You rolled your eyes, but the warmth of his gaze had your heart fluttering. "Dick?" you said, playing along.
"No," Bruce said, his voice a low murmur. "Someone much more… elusive." He leaned in closer, his lips so close to yours. "Someone who can melt the ice in my heart."
"Superman?" You whisper your tone teasing.
"You little teasing woman," he murmured, his gaze lingering on your lips before returning to meet your eyes. "Always keeping me guessing."
"It's part of my charm," you said, your voice a gentle tease.
"The charm that never gets old," Bruce murmured, his eyes darkening with desire.
The air between them grew thick with anticipation, the unspoken tension stretching taut as a bowstring. You leaned closer, your heart racing. "Are you just going to keep a girl waiting?" you whispered.
With a soft chuckle, Bruce closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a kiss that was as fiery as it was gentle. The warmth of his embrace enveloped you, and for a moment, the weight of their shared secrets and the chaos of Gotham City felt a world away.
As the kiss deepened, you felt the tension of the day melt away. His touch was familiar yet always had the power to ignite something new within you. You pulled him closer, your hand resting gently on the back of his neck, the warmth of his skin sending shivers down your spine.
Bruce set the whiskey glass down with care, the sound of the liquid swirling the last reminder of their light-hearted banter before the intensity of their connection took over. He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer, his hand splayed over the curve of your hip. The warmth of his palm seemed to seep into your very bones, anchoring you to the moment, to him.
The door to the study swung open with a creak, the hinges protesting against the weight of the heavy wood. You both startled, breaking the kiss as your eyes darted to the intrusion. In the doorway stood Dick, his eyes wide and a look of shock etched on his face. "Bruce, I—uh, I didn't." he pause, "I should have figured…this, after tonight's interview."
Bruce cleared his throat, straightening his tie with a slight blush. "Dick, what can I do for you?"
"I wanted to say," Dick says, his cheeks flushing as he stepped into the room, "that I thought you did a really good job on the interview tonight. You talked a lot about us, and…" He trailed off, looking down at his feet. "And I'll just leave now, oh but, uh… you might want to start locking doors."
You both laugh awkwardly, the tension dissipating as quickly as it had formed. "Thank you sweetheart, I think we'll keep that in mind," Bruce says, patting your knee reassuringly.
Dick nods, a knowing smile on his face, closes the door and retreats down the hallway. "Nobody go in the office, Bruce is making out with mom," he calls out, his voice echoing through the mansion.
You and Bruce listen as he goes, "It's like he's announcing dinner," you murmur, amusement coloring your voice.
"Well, my dinner at least, come here" he smirks, tackling you to the couch with a playful growl, making you giggle and squirm in his grip. The plush fabric cushions your fall, but it's Bruce's arms that truly make you feel safe and secure. His eyes dance with mischief as he pins you down, the weight of his body pressing into yours, a comforting reminder of his presence.
#batman#bat family#dc universe#bat boys#batfamily#dc fandom#bruce wayne x reader#bruce wayne fanfiction#bruce wayne's wife#batman x reader#batman fanfiction#dick grayson#interview#loving wife#crush on wife
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Some Zevlor Things —
EDIT 12/2/23: Added a few more things
A fellow Tiefling Hellrider, Tilses, is with him in the caves acting as his bodyguard. He sometimes calls her Tilly.
There is one bedroll in the caves shoved off in the far corner with a book titled "The Devil You Know: An Autobiography" - not sure if it's his personal writing or if he's reading it, either way it adds to the flavor of his of his tiefling pride (and/or anguish).
It reads:
Have you ever had a god change your blood? It is a horrifying thing, even for those who may desire it. Yet few tieflings wished for Asmodeus to claim their bodies, only be given no choice in the matter. It is not as if we were well-loved before the archdevil's gambit. Our people have always struggled against the notion of 'devilkin', as if a single drop of infernal ichor inescapably corrupts. How amusing, when so many others willingly sell their souls to fiends, yet their culture as a whole escapes the blame. By what method can we redeem ourselves, when the crime is not ours? I would drive a blade into every warlock that aided Asmodeus' damned ritual, but personal vengeance cannot undo the will of a god, much less one as slippery as the Lord of Lies. When every passerby thinks you a thief and heretic, it is deeply tempting to become one. (cut off) The only thing that has stopped me is knowing Asmodeus wants nothing more than for all of us to fall from grace.
Around the his table are Invasion Plans for Elturgard, Traveler's Guide to Baldur's Gate, Traveler's Guide to the Sword Coast Vol IV: The Risen Road (which aligns when he tells you earlier there are gnolls on the road), and "Front and Center: a Thespian's Memoir" that reads:
"... in fact, the greatest joy of my life hasn't been acting, but becoming. When you choose a character to play, you don't just wear a mask - you take a little bit of their soul for your own. Whoever you are in your heart of hearts, if only by the faintest note."
Zevlor aside I think this is a sweet quote for the player and player character relationship <3
Dialogue in the Caves:
Zevlor: I Hardly need a bodyguard, Tilses. This isn't Avernus. Tilses: No sir. At least the monsters there looked like monsters.
—
Tilses: Commander— Zevlor: Just Zevlor, Tilly. We're civilians now, remember? Tilses: With respect, sir — being a Hellrider is for life. They can't take — Zevlor: They can, and did. Avernus changed things — best we get used to that. Tilses: ... Yes, Zevlor
—
Tilses: The Watch or the Flaming Fist? Zevlor: Pardon? Tilses: When we get to Baldur's Gate. Where are we enlisting? Zevlor: I'm done soldiering, Tilly. I'd like a clean start. But go with the Watch. You're too honest to be a mercenary.
—
Zevlor: No word from the scouts, yet? Tilses: No sir. But if there's a clear path past the goblins, they'll find it. Zevlor: Yes, of course.
ITEMS —
in the Chest there is a bronze goblet, 46 gold, and a battle-worn blade. On his person he has his gloves (Hellrider's Pride), an apple, a camp supply pack, and the key to his chest.
The blade says:
A fine by well-used sword. It seemed to have once belonged to a holy order, but the indication of rank and patron deity at the hilt have recently been filed down.
The gloves' flavor text says:
A waft of sulphur emanates from this proudly-kept piece.
Celebration at the Camp:
"I should be out there, talking with them. In... Just a moment, maybe." "Is this everyone? Our numbers have grown so few..." "No more. I can't afford to lose any more of them." "No. Let them have fun. I'll be ruining it come morning anyway."
Mindfayer Colony:
Things he mumbles in the Pod:
The pod will show you his memories of Elturel:
After saving Zevlor, I forced myself to pick the "mean" options just to see how it goes.
If you tell him its his fault tieflings were imprisoned in moonrise, he says:
If you tell him "Do yo have a right to ask?" when he asks about the tieflings:
He doesn't argue with any of your remarks except one, when he says "For a moment I welcomed it" and you tell him "For a moment until you realized your reward would be a tadpole" he corrects you:
If you tell him if he wanted power he should live up to his own ideal:
If you tell him to get out of your sight:
When you tell him it's not his fault he was enthralled:
If you tell him "Fine. Good luck, Zevlor."
If you say you could use another blade in the fight to come:
At the Netherbrain:
(smiling <3)
"The journey has been brutal, but I stand here a Hellrider once more, and I would die a proud man if I died this day."
I know it's a Soldier thing to be proud to die for a cause but it still makes me worry for him given his background so far <:]
If you click on him, he has two unvoiced lines:
if you pickpocket him at this point, he'll have the same items on him as before (in this save he has a carrot instead of an apple for me).
His stats at this time: (Steeped in Bliss is from one of my items)
Post Game (Patch 5)
I don't know if there are other permutations of this letter, yet, but this is what I received:
I hope my penmanship has improved somewhat in the past months. When I first stumbled into this city, I shook so badly that I could scarcely hold the soup the priests pressed into my hands - let alone write and thank you as you deserve. It is only when the city itself began to shake that I felt my hands grow still. Along with the other veterans sheltering at the temple - discards of Elturel's 'unworthy' legions - I watched that monstrosity rise over the city. We felt no fear. Only anger. Disgust. Purpose - and with it, power. I do not know what oath we cling to now, or how long it will last - but we shall use it to ensure that this city will not suffer as Elturel did. Whether it wants us or not. It is more than thanks alone I owe. No words can make amends for what I did to my people, but that is as it should be. More come to the temple every day to aid in the relief efforts, and if I am permitted to work alongside them, then I am content. Come and see us, when you can. Zevlor
It's interesting — if not bitterswet, tragic, and inspiring — to hear that Zevlor and other Paladins regained their Oaths via pure, stubborn devotion to saving people when it began to look as bad as Elturel.
#zevlor#bg3#baldur's gate 3#act 1 spoilers#act 2 spoilers#bg3 spoilers#this man reeks of self loathing i want to bathe him in love and comfort#i also want him carnally#act 3 spoilers#bg3 meta
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I kinda do believe that Toshiro IS afraid of being head of his household.
He's barely made any decisions of his own his whole life. Only time he did was to save someone he cared about. He's too used to the comfort of obedience, I think he believes it absolves him of participating in the activities of a household that does things in a way he disagrees with.
What kind of things you ask? Mainly how those bound to it are treated, I think:
He's angry at Maizuru when he learns about the flying hag that chased him as a kid being her doing.
He let's Izutsumi/Asebi go. There's two translations going around of the scene where Maizuru informs him that she's missing. I've seen bilingual Japanese users on twitter say that the one where he goes "She'll find her way back if she wants to" is more appropriate, it carries the intention of him letting her go. Saying "just leave her" is probably what a native English speaker assumed to be the more straightforward intention.
When he tells Laios about how Tade was probably in a very bad situation because she saw his dad (who he doesn't respect at all) as a saviour he says "I wanna speak to her". He doesn't because, passivity man, but, I get the feeling he wanted to tell her "he's still not a good person, Tade". I get the feeling he'd allow her to leave after Izutsumi if they were ever in a situation where he can actually be the decision maker.
He apologises to his party for dragging them down to confront the Faligon. Remember how that was all of those guyses first death in a dungeon? I've said this but. Man saw them get wipped. Childhood friend AND mom figure died in front of his eyes, and I know that's normal in a dungeon, but jeez. His mom-adjacent figure. His "MOM". idk I'd be messed up, unrelated but I think Laios is definitely suppressing how much it affected him to see Falin be eaten, be turned, be stabbed, etc etc. He's definitely an "I'll focus on problem solving to avoid looking at my emotions" type of guy.
During the fight he asks Laios "what about me is strong?". If you'll remember, Laios said that in the original party, Toshiro was in charge of finding an opening and dealing the killing blows. I wonder if he felt burdened, responsible for their failure then?
If he takes failure that hard when he's just following orders, I can see him feeling anxious about the prospect of failure when he's the one issuing them. It's probably why he comes across as so half-hearted with the whole "earn the right to be the next Head of the Clan" thing.
Not to mention, I remember seeing someone on X say, "the big gap between Toshiro and his baby brothers (13 years) is probably because Toshitsugu originally just wanted one (1) heir out of his arranged marriage to Toshiro's mom, since he actually loved Maizuru. But then he decided that Toshiro wasn't made of whatever was necessary to be a leader of their shady ass clan, so he had another two kids as backup".
If Toshiro is aware of that, fuck man, what kind of confidence is he going to have 😵
But, it's also a shame, right? Because he's explicitly empathetic. I think that's the meaning of him being shown playing with bugs as a kid, being coded as kind of softhearted. He empathises with things/beings he "shouldn't". But he's also obedient, he's always masking, so he has a hard time showing it explicitly. Honestly, the fact that he has that discussion about Tade with Laios is impressive imo, he trusts him and feels more comfortable with him than he lets on. He should NOT say the same thing to Maizuru or Hien, even though he respects them and cares for them.
If he had a bit of a spine, he'd be good for the people in the household. Probably bizarre in a way that even his dad can't predict, and maybe wouldn't like (he likes weirdos but only when it means chaos and fun it seems?). Maybe there'd be infighting. He just doesn't agree with the way his dad does too many things.
On the other hand, I also kinda think he should just take Tade and fuck off back to Melini lol. Become a bodyguard for Laios, help a bit with politics. What's for him in Wa anyway? An Estranged family and friends he doesn't fit with anymore. I think he'd be more likely to feel homesick for his friends in Melini than the Nakamoto household.
In any case I hope that Falin encouraging him to be more of an active participant of his own life has an everlasting effect on him. Even if he's afraid of shouldering that responsibility.
#BUT I ALSO THINK HE SHOULD TRY TO CONNECT WITH HIS SIBLINGS... this is just me loving sibling dynamics though#rambles#DunMesh rambles#Nakamoto Toshiro#Toshiro Nakamoto#Shuro#Nakamoto Toshitsugu#Maizuru#tade dungeon meshi#Tade#Laios Touden
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🦇🍯🌀 here r mine instead (redid it)
mafia!eddie, fluff, pet based.
"God fuckin' dammit," Eddie's hiss rang through the halls, echoing in the most cryptic of ways, leaving you halting with hesitation.
"Can you fucking do this shit right? Do something right for once in your life, Gareth." Eddie snapped, tone filled with agitation.
"Sorry, I'm not a fuckin' arts and crafts expert, Munson." Gareth snapped back, tone just as biting, filled with sarcasm. "I don't know how to do this type of shit, man."
"Oh, you don't? Don't bullshit me. You used to make disentanglement puzzles and fuckin' scrolls every week. Don't tell me that bullshit- Diablo, sit- just fuckin' do it." Eddie growled, his voice growing more and more irritated with each step you took.
You lingered for a moment, hoping your footsteps were quiet, muffled by the carpet as you crept around the corner, peeking into the office.
The boys must have heard you, whining and squirming with defiance, only to be corrected by Eddie's sharp click of his tongue.
"Fuck! He moved." Gareth huffed, tossing the canvas to the side, with a growing pile of others. "This is so stupid. Why are you doin' this, Munson?"
"Because- Just, shut the fuck up and do it again." Eddie sneered, nerves grated with irritation. He craved a cigarette, maybe a joint. "Don't use as much paint this time."
"Then you do it." Gareth huffed, throwing his hands up. "You try and dip their paw in this shit. They're moving-"
You leaned in, seeing the gaggle of Dobermen sitting at attention, tails wagging at the sliver of sight of you. Diablo wrapped up in Eddie's arms, his right paw lifted, coated in... paint?
"-God, all you do is bitch." Eddie grunted. "I'll fucking do it, since you can't-" His eyes caught yours, snapping back with intensity that had Lucifer running, taking his master's shock as his chance to run to you.
"Baby," Eddie's voice caught, breaking boyishly in his throat. "You're- I thought you said after five?"
"Nice, real nice." Gareth laughed humorlessly. "Did all this shit, and look. Surprise ruined. Good going, dumbass." He rolled his eyes at Eddie, standing.
"Martha Stewart over here is trying to surprise you." Gareth muttered when he passed you. "You deal with him. He's your's now."
Eddie grumbled under his breath, shoulders slumping with defeat as the dogs ran to you, Diablo leaving a trail of paw printed paint behind him.
"What... What are you doing?" You whispered, looking at the pile of canvases, a few on Eddie's desk, others tossed in a pile.
"I, uh, I was trying to make you something." Eddie admitted, muttering towards the ground. "I wanted it to be something special. Like priceless kinda thing, and... and I saw something similar at a shop- Well, it was a painting, but I thought I'd make the real thing with each of their paw prints, but I fucked up and asked Gareth, that worthless fuck-" Eddie cut his rant short, breath catching when he saw you.
Your eyes wide, face neutral in an unreadable way as you scanned the room. Eddie's heart skipped, palms sweaty. "I, uh, I'm obviously getting you a better gift too." He added quickly, not wanting you to think this was your only birthday gift. "I just... I thought you'd like this too."
He paused, your eyes not meeting his, slowly walking towards the two canvases on his desk- Vecna and Lucifer's names printed on their respective canvas, a perfect paw print above them.
"Do you?" Eddie said after a moment, his voice way needier than he would have ever allowed with anyone but you. Your eyes met his. "Do you like it?"
A laugh bubbled up through your chest, head swimming with emotions, heart swelling so much you thought it might burst out of your chest. "Like it? You- Eddie," Your voice shook, holding back a wave of emotions. "This is the sweetest, most thoughtful thing anyone's ever done for me in my whole life."
Eddie's chest loosened, letting his nerves fall and pride take their place. "Really?" Eddie whispered, petting Diablo's head as he returned back to his side.
You nodded, tears brimming your waterline. Here he was, the man with the roughest reputation in most of Indiana, doing crafts- for you. Making a gift just for you. Sure, he could buy anything, would buy anything for you. But still, he chose to give you something truly priceless.
You pulled him into a sweet kiss, one that left you both burning with excited, loving heat, pressing kisses to his cheeks, noses rubbing together as you muttered strings of thanks and praises.
The rest of the night, you spent with your boys, carefully stamping each paw print on the canvas, despite Eddie's protest that it defeated the gift aspect. You assured him this was the greatest gift.
#oneforthemunny#munnyemojigame#mafia!eddie munson#eddie munson au#eddie munson#mafia!au#mafia!eddie#mafia!eddie munson x reader#mafia!eddie x reader#eddie munson x fem!reader fluff#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie x fem!reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader#eddie x reader#eddie stranger things#eddie my love <3#oneforthemunny blurbs#eddie munson blurb
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Mary Linton and Jack Marston meeting in 1922
Okay but these are just my headcanons for the very improbable scenario that they end up bumping into each other in the future. / My headcanons for what they would do with their lives after the events of rdr/rdr2
(I'm going to explain them under the cut)
Okay so, starting with Jack:
I want to believe Jack lived a more or less normal life after killing Ross, successfully getting away with this one (1) murder, and having that as a skeleton in his closet. Not finding peace really, so the whole revenge thing doesn't fix his miserable life but he can go on to try to do something with his life. Gunslinging doesn't really have a place anymore here.
When the US joined WWI I know that boy DID NOT join the US Army, he would NEVER join the group that killed his dad, or make the same mistake as him and make a deal with the government. He would rather be jailed for dodging the draft, what will they do, threaten him with what? He has nothing to live for really, so they can't make him. I don't think he cares much if he gets shot (he has a like saying as much in rdr when he duels Ross).
After the whole jail thing he'd go back to a more or less normal life, I'd guess he would have to have a regular job and write whenever he's able (I want to believe that one Easter egg in GTA is canon...it is to me...), but I don't think he'd be able to make a living just from writing.
As for Mary, I always wondered why Mary was dressed the way she was during the credits cut scene in Rdr2. Because I'm guessing it takes place in 1907 (given that most cut scenes appear to happen at the same time more or less than the epilogue). But I wondered why Mary was dressing in black; I mean, during the Victorian era there were very specific mourning traditions, especially for women. Wearing black was pretty much a part of a social thing, you'd publicly mourn. The extension of your mourning would depend on who died and what was your relationship with them.
And here is the thing, Arthur had died 8 years ago by then, we could assume Mary had found out shortly after of his dead because newspapers in the Rdr2 universe love to brag whenever law enforcement/Pinkertons kill renown outlaws. (Even Arthur and Hosea get mentioned years later in some sort of article in 1907 too). And additionally, we know that Mary kept up with how the gang, especially Arthur, was doing through the news on the newspapers. So again, it wouldn't be crazy to assume she knew about Arthur's death back in 1899.
So then, why is she wearing a black dress to visit his grave in 1907?. Black is the color of mourning, but as far as I am aware (and correct me if I'm wrong) it was not required to visit a grave back in the day. So I like to headcanon Mary mourning Arthur like a widow, because widows would have to wear their black weeds for 2 years (there were different periods of mourning, for instance Mary's clothes could be classified under the 'half-mourning' type, meaning there has been at least 6 months since her loved one passed away, meaning she could now wear some jewelry, other colours, ect.
But here is a little extra, Queen Victoria popularized among some women the practice to never abandon their period of half mourning, and especially, keep wearing black the rest of their lives even if they move on, as a sign of love for their dead husband.
Mary and Arthur never got married, but I like to think Mary lived as a widow for him. Continuing with her life as normal, of course, but always having that bittersweet ache in her heart, dressing in black out of respect and love for him and the life they couldn't have. Even if she had wanted to move on from him after she realized they couldn't be together as Arthur wouldn't leave the gang, I think she would have folded if Arthur had gone after her (I mean she did re-initiate contact after they were supposed to never speak again), and I think she was still preparing herself emotionally when she heard the news that Arthur was dead, ironically not moving on from him.
She didn't remarry, Jamie made good money and maintained her, Mary knew the kind of life she didn't want and she could be respectable and old as a widow. Plus marrying someone new at her age would be a titanic task.
I think Mary kept her mother's brooch Arthur returned for her as her reminder of him, given that she returned the picture and the ring. In fact she's wearing it when she visits Arthur's grave in-game!. So I kept that
It just warms my heart to think of the very few people left who knew about the gang finding each other in usual ways. Maybe next time I'd do Sadie or Charles. I'm just a sucker for this kind of things
#mary linton#jack marston#rdr2 spoilers#rdr spoilers#fanart#marthur#my art inky125#arthur morgan#rdr headcanons#mary gillis#red dead redemption 2
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Wait For Me
Inspired by ideas from @adaizel (my dude, you really do be milking the longest fics out of me lmao I appreciate you though)
You'd known Soshiro Hoshina your whole life as both of you came from respectable kaiju-slaying clans, and though you knew most everything about him, you wanted to ignore one particular thing about him- that he was probably not into you.
Having seen you in diapers and then seen you in braces, you were more likely to be seen as a little sister to him rather than a love interest. He'd bandaged you up too many times after you got hurt and wiped your snot from your tear stained face too regularly to think any different. You denied the painful thought frequently though, continuing your active pursuit of him.
He was several years older than you, but you never stopped trying to remind him that you were a woman.
You recalled the first time you'd ever worn a bikini in front of him. He'd wanted to take you swimming in the ocean, the way he always did every summer, and you thought that it was high time that you show off what the lord gave you. But unfortunately, if he was shocked or awestruck at all by the lack of coverage over your body, he didn't show it. Even when you'd jumped in the air trying to hit a beach volleyball and your boobs had bounced their way to kingdom come, he still didn't react.
It made you want to try anything to get his attention. Suck a popsicle a little too hard, little too deep. Dry your dripping body off with his towel, because oops you forgot one. And you even made sure to drag the towel extra slow in between your legs.
Eventually you resorted to trying out different hairstyles and different makeup to try and get any sort of reaction from him. You thought the man should try gambling because he had one hell of a poker face, always treating you the exact same as he always did.
You thought it might be hopeless after all, but you had found out that Soshiro planned on leaving to join the Defense Force soon and you didn't want to give up on him, not after having pined for him your whole life. You felt you needed some sort of closure at least.
You already knew your parents would never let you follow him into battle, you were the sole heir to the clan. It was your duty to run the household, settle down, make more heirs. But before you resigned yourself to your fate, you needed him to know how you felt even if he didn't return the feelings (though you desperately hoped he did).
Your heart pounds as you begin to write him a letter and then you think your heart might just give in and collapse as you hand the letter off to your lady's maid to deliver to him.
Soshiro had been packing the last of his things in the dead of the night, getting ready to ship out in the morning, when he got your letter. He reads it over carefully, his eyes widening as they trail down the page. He rereads it again, making sure he didn't misinterpret.
Then he slips his shoes on quick as he can, and makes the short walk to your house, knocking gently on your bedroom door.
You open the door and smile when you see him but when you notice the letter in his hand and the solemnity etched into his face, you know he's not here to deliver good news. Before he can say anything, you begin to speak, wanting to get your words out before the tears come. "Can you- can you just wait for me? Please? Wait for me to be someone you can love? I'll be finished with my lessons soon and they say I'll be the lady of the house in no time at all. I can come visit you when I find the time. I can... I can make it work. Just please. Wait for me."
He holds both of your hands in his, giving them a gentle squeeze. For the first time in your life, you see his poker face wavering. He musters up his best smile for you, but it's not the sweet smile you know, it's apologetic from top to bottom.
"Thank you... for entrusting your feelings to a fool like me. If I'd known how you felt... well never mind that. I can't change what I would've done just as much as I can't change the different directions we're going in. We- we're living separate lives now, darling. And I can't wait for you, much as I'd like to. I need to do this, I need to go. And you have to stay here. I can't take you with me. Please forgive me."
With every word he says, the tears spill out more and more aggressively until all you are is a quivering mess, watching your one and only true love fade from your life.
"You'll forget me soon enough." He whispers as he pulls you into a quick hug, then he wipes your tears and begins to walk away.
Before he fades from view completely, you yell at the top of your lungs, not caring that it's the middle of the night, "I'd never forget you! I'll wait for you then! I'll always wait for you."
All you can see is his back, and you wonder if he heard you. If he smiled at all. If he reacted at all.
Then he rounds the corner and disappears with all your hopes and dreams.
You fall to the floor, knees crashing against the hard surface, but they don't hurt nearly as much as the ache in your empty chest.
You don't get a good sleep that night. In fact, you don't get a good sleep for many nights to come.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Soshiro made Vice Captain of the Third Division rather quickly. The view from the top (he was told) was supposedly rather glorious, but when he got there he found it empty and lacking, realizing there was no one to share in his triumph. No one to cheer on his victory, to tell him they knew he could do it.
Then he thought of you again. It'd been years since he'd seen you but he still thought of you. Nearly everyday, against his will. He'd tried to force the feelings down, tried to ignore the picture of your tear-stained face in his mind, tried to stop hearing your voice echoing in his ears. He'd stayed up late training every night, until the ache in his heart was drowned out by the aching in the rest of his body. He'd even gone on random dates with random women to try to break the cycle of dreaming about you day and night, but he'd hear your voice in someone's laugh or he'd see your sparkle in someone's eyes, and he knew he couldn't deny himself any longer.
Trying not to love you was like trying to stop the push and pull of the waves, or trying to stop the rotation of the Earth, it couldn't be done.
He opens the top drawer of his desk again. Your letter is sitting right there, where he'd left it, for easy viewing access whenever he felt like wondering about what could've been. Wondering about how you're doing, about who you're with.
Do you still visit the secret spot he'd found for the two of you? Do you still play the violin, the one that he bought you? Do you... still love him? Did you wait for him?
The downward spiral of his thoughts sends him into a frenzy, as he hurriedly jams random clothes into a suitcase with just one clear thought in mind- he wants, he needs to see you. He needs to smell you, to hear you, to tell you how he feels. To make up for making you cry. To make up for all these years of lost time. To beg you for another chance. To let you love him. To let himself love you.
Captain Ashiro approves his hasty request for leave (having never seen the man take any time off at all in the many years he'd been in the Defense Force) and soon enough he's on the first bullet train back to his hometown.
He knocks on the familiar wood of your front door. His hands are shaking and his mind is scattered, filled with endless, useless, worrying thoughts, but he knows when he sees you everything will be okay. If he can just see you again, he'll know what to say, he'll know what to do, he'll be whole again.
The door opens and his smile is at the ready, waiting to greet you, but it's your mother that answers the door and his lips freeze mid-smile. He listens intently, his heart dropping into his stomach, as she explains that you've eloped with his brother- Soichiro.
He tastes salt and he realizes he's crying on your doorstep the way you did for him all those years ago. He hurriedly wipes his cheeks and thanks your mother quickly, before backing away. She gives him a sympathetic look as he stumbles down the street, lost in a daze.
For the first time in years, he doesn't know what he wants. What he should do. But he still needs to see you, married or not, and that desire drives him to get onto the next train to the Sixth Division.
When he arrives, it looks like they're throwing some sort of party. He checks his reflection in a nearby window, making sure the crying he did on the way here isn't visible in his eyes or his cheeks. When he's fixed his hair and adjusted his collar to his liking, he heads into the main building.
He asks around and it appears they're inducting a new Vice Captain.
He watches from the back row as the new Vice Captain takes the stage, waving and grinning. His heart roars in his chest when he realizes it's you.
Your speech is sweet and short but he hangs onto every word, watching your lips as they move.
Then you step down from the stage and the ceremony is concluded. Officers start to file out of the room and then eventually it's just you and him.
He lifts a hand awkwardly, giving you a little wave.
He thinks you might ignore him. Thinks you might turn around and walk away. Leave through the nearest exit. Run through the nearest exit, desperate to get away from him. From the man who broke your heart.
But he never could've expected what you'd do.
You do run but you run towards him, leaping into his arms.
He's shocked but he quickly pulls himself together and pulls you tight against him, inhaling the sweet scent of you. He doesn't want to talk about what happened or what is going to happen when you finally let go, he just wants to hold you and let this be enough. But the erratic beat of his heart isn't satisfied with just holding you. He needs to make you his.
He pulls away and grabs your hands, checking for a ring. He almost cries again when he doesn't see one.
You laugh, looking at him puzzled. "Yes? Something you need?"
"You're... you're not married." His breath is so shaky it's a wonder he was able to form words at all.
"I said I'd wait, didn't I?" You whisper, pulling your hands away from his so you can cup his face and stroke his cheeks with your thumbs.
Now he starts crying.
You kiss the tears away from his cheeks. "Hey, I don't remember you being such a crybaby. What happened to the tough Vice Captain of the Third Division?" You tease him but your voice is still soft, filled with concern at his sudden burst of emotion.
"H-he's not here right now. Just me. Just a man who's in love with you, wondering if you can still find it in you to love him back."
You smile warmly at him and he thinks he might just die now and go to heaven, having finally seen your smile for real and not just in his haunting dreams.
"I said I'd wait, and I have. I'd wait a thousand years for you. I'd wait more than that. It's you, it's always been you and it always will be."
He sighs, relieved. He takes you in his arms again, pulling you close and trailing kisses all over you. Then he freezes.
"Wait, I heard you ran off to get married with my brother?"
You laugh and the sound is enough to melt his heart and ease his nerves. "Well I guess that's partially true. I mean I did run away with him but only to join his division, that's it. I was hoping to run into you."
Soshiro squeezes you tighter, afraid if he lets you go this might be a dream. "So marry me then."
The waves continue to push and pull, the Earth continues to spin on its axis, and Soshiro continues to love you immensely and infinitely the rest of his entire life.
#kaiju no. 8#soshiro hoshina#soshiro hoshina x reader#anime#hoshina#oneshot#hoshina x reader#hoshina soshiro x reader#anime fanfic#fluff
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Lookingforadom.com
G!P Huh Yunjin x F!Reader
Words Count: 6k
Warnings: soft dom yunjin I think… yea it should be
A/n: haiii Sorry 😓 been busy and having writers block😫
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Kazuha asks, a note of concern in her voice.
You sigh, your eyes fixed on the laptop screen where the search bar reads, Lookingforadom.com. "At this point, Kazuha, I need some action in my life," you admit.
Kazuha tilts her head thoughtfully. "I mean, at least find a soft dom. I feel like that's more up your alley."
You click on the first search result, your heart racing with a mix of excitement and apprehension. The website's homepage is sleek and inviting, filled with profiles of people seeking all sorts of dynamics. You glance at Kazuha, who is watching you with a mix of curiosity and concern.
"Okay, let's see," you murmur, scrolling through the profiles. Some of them are intimidating, with bold statements and intense photographs. You feel a bit overwhelmed but continue your search, determined to find someone who matches Kazuha's suggestion.
After a few minutes, you find a profile that catches your eye. The username is "GentleMistress," and the description reads: "Soft dom seeking a respectful and eager sub. Let's explore boundaries with care and mutual respect."
"This one looks promising," you say, turning the laptop towards Kazuha. She leans in, reading the profile over your shoulder.
"She seems nice," she agrees. "Why don't you send her a message?"
Taking a deep breath, you click on the message button and start typing:
"Hi, GentleMistress. I'm new to this and looking for someone who can guide me gently. Your profile stood out to me because it seems like you value respect and care. I'd love to chat and see if we connect."
You hover over the send button for a moment, then click it before you can second-guess yourself. The message sends, and you lean back in your chair, exhaling slowly.
Kazuha smiles reassuringly. "I think you made a good choice. Now we wait."
As you wait for a response, you chat about other things, trying to distract yourself from the anticipation. Your mind keeps drifting back to the message, wondering what kind of person GentleMistress is and what this new adventure will bring into your life.
Hours have passed, and doubts begin to creep into your mind. What if GentleMistress doesn't like you? What if this whole thing is a mistake? The "what ifs" swirl around your head, making you second-guess your decision.
Kazuha had left a while ago, reassuring you with a hug before she went. Now, alone in your room, the silence is deafening. You keep glancing at your phone, willing a notification to appear.
Just as you’re about to give up hope, a ping echoes from your phone. Your heart races as you pick it up, the screen illuminating with a new message notification. You hold your breath and open it.
It's from GentleMistress.
"Hi there! Thank you for reaching out. I appreciate your honesty and courage in taking this step. I'd love to chat and get to know you better. When would you be available for a video call?"
A mix of relief and excitement washes over you. You quickly type back a response, your fingers trembling slightly.
"Hi, GentleMistress. Thank you for replying! I'm free tomorrow evening if that works for you."
You hit send and stare at the screen, waiting for a reply. Within minutes, another ping sounds.
"Tomorrow evening sounds perfect. Looking forward to it. Have a great night!"
You can't help but smile. The doubts that had plagued you earlier start to fade, replaced by a sense of anticipation. Tomorrow is going to be interesting, and you feel a flicker of hope for this new adventure.
As you put your phone down, you take a deep breath and decide to relax for the rest of the night. Tomorrow will come soon enough, and with it, the potential for something new and exciting.
The next day feels like it drags on forever. You go about your usual routine, but your mind keeps drifting back to the upcoming video call. What will GentleMistress be like? What will you talk about? A mix of excitement and nerves buzzes in your stomach.
Finally, evening arrives. You sit down at your desk, making sure your laptop camera is positioned correctly. Taking a deep breath, you open your laptop and log in to the website, finding the message from GentleMistress. Right on time, a notification pops up: "GentleMistress is calling."
You click accept, and the screen fills with GentleMistress's image. She has kind eyes and a warm smile that instantly puts you at ease.
"Hi there," she greets, her voice calm and reassuring. "It's nice to finally meet you."
"Hi," you respond, trying to steady your voice. "It's nice to meet you too."
You spend the first few minutes exchanging pleasantries, talking about your day and getting comfortable with each other. GentleMistress is patient and attentive, asking questions about your interests and making you feel heard.
"So," she says, leaning in a little closer to the camera, "what made you decide to look for this kind of relationship?"
You take a moment to gather your thoughts. "I've been feeling like I need more excitement in my life, something different. I want to explore this side of myself, but I also want to do it with someone who respects boundaries and is caring."
GentleMistress nods thoughtfully. "That's a very mature and honest reason. I appreciate you sharing that with me. It's important to have a foundation of trust and communication in any relationship, especially in this dynamic."
As the conversation continues, you find yourself relaxing more and more. GentleMistress's approach is gentle and respectful, exactly what you were hoping for. She shares her own experiences and reassures you that it's okay to take things at your own pace.
After about an hour, the conversation winds down. "This has been really great," GentleMistress says. "I think we have a good connection, and I'd like to continue getting to know you better. How do you feel about that?"
You smile, feeling a sense of relief and excitement. "I feel the same way. I'd like to continue as well."
"Excellent," she replies, her smile widening. "Let's set up another call soon. In the meantime, if you have any questions or just want to chat, feel free to message me anytime."
You end the call with a sense of accomplishment and a newfound sense of excitement for what lies ahead. This new adventure is starting to feel like the right choice, and you can't wait to see where it leads.
As you close your laptop, you realize that sometimes taking a leap of faith can lead to the most rewarding experiences. You feel a renewed sense of hope and anticipation for the future.
Over the next few days, you exchange messages with GentleMistress. Each conversation reveals more about her, and you feel increasingly comfortable and excited about this new connection. She shares her thoughts on boundaries, trust, and the importance of communication in a dynamic like the one you're exploring.
One evening, as you're scrolling through her latest message, a new notification pops up. It's a message from Kazuha.
"Hey, how's it going with GentleMistress? Have you guys talked more?"
You smile and quickly type back, "Yeah, we've been messaging a lot. She's really kind and respectful. I think this could be something good."
Almost immediately, Kazuha replies, "I'm glad to hear that! Do you have another call scheduled?"
"Not yet," you type back. "But I think I'll suggest one soon."
Later that night, you muster up the courage to ask GentleMistress for another video call. Her response is prompt and positive, agreeing to chat the next evening. You feel a flutter of anticipation as you prepare for the call.
The next evening, you log in a few minutes early, eager to see GentleMistress again. When the call connects, her warm smile greets you once more.
"Hello again," she says, her voice smooth and welcoming. "How have you been?"
"I've been good," you reply. "I've been looking forward to this."
"Me too," she responds, her eyes twinkling. "I thought tonight we could talk a bit more about what you're looking for and how we can explore that together."
You nod, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement. "That sounds great. I think I'd like to start slowly, really get to know each other and build that trust."
"Absolutely," GentleMistress agrees. "Trust is the foundation of everything we do. It's important that you feel safe and respected at all times."
The conversation flows naturally from there. You discuss your boundaries, your interests, and what excites you about this journey. GentleMistress listens intently, offering her own insights and reassurances.
As the call continues, you feel a growing sense of connection and confidence. GentleMistress's thoughtful approach and genuine care make you feel valued and understood.
"Thank you for being so open with me," GentleMistress says as the call comes to an end. "I think we're building a really good foundation here. Let's plan another call soon, and in the meantime, keep communicating through messages."
"Thank you," you reply, feeling a deep sense of gratitude. "I really appreciate how patient and understanding you've been."
After the call, you sit back and reflect on the evening. This journey is just beginning, but already it feels like you're on the right path. With GentleMistress guiding you, you feel a sense of anticipation building inside you, longing for the moment when her gentle touch becomes a reality.
You imagine the future chats, the moments of exploration, and the trust growing between you. The thought of GentleMistress by your side fills you with a warmth you hadn't felt in a long time.
Closing your eyes, you can almost sense her presence, her calming influence. You realize you're eagerly awaiting the next time you'll see her, the next opportunity to deepen this connection.
The following weekend, you decide to take a break from your usual routine and head to a cozy cafe downtown. As you enter, you scan the room for an empty table, and that's when you spot her—GentleMistress, sitting by the window, lost in thought as she sips her coffee.
Your heart skips a beat at the sight of her, and you can't resist the urge to walk over.
"Hi," you say with a smile as you approach her table. "Fancy meeting you here."
GentleMistress looks up, surprise flickering in her eyes before a smile spreads across her face. "Well, hello there," she responds, setting her cup down. "What a pleasant surprise indeed."
You pull out the chair opposite her. "Mind if I join you?"
"Not at all," she says, gesturing for you to sit. "Please, have a seat."
You settle into the chair, feeling a rush of excitement at being so close to her. The atmosphere is charged with possibility, and you can't help but let a playful grin tug at your lips.
"So, what brings you here today?" you ask, trying to sound casual.
"Just taking a break from work," GentleMistress replies. "And enjoying some coffee. What about you?"
"Same here," you say. "Needed a change of scenery. And I'm glad I stumbled upon you."
GentleMistress chuckles softly. "Well, I'm glad you did too."
The conversation flows easily between you, filled with laughter and shared stories. You find yourself flirting subtly, enjoying the playful banter with GentleMistress.
As the conversation continues, you muster up the courage to take it a step further. Leaning in slightly, you shoot her a teasing smile. "You know, I must say, you have the most captivating eyes."
GentleMistress's cheeks tint with a hint of pink, but she meets your gaze with a sparkle in her eyes. "Why, thank you," she replies, her tone playful. "Yours aren't too bad either."
You both share a moment of lingering eye contact, and the air between you crackles with tension. It's exhilarating, knowing that the attraction is mutual.
Before things can escalate further, GentleMistress glances at her watch. "Oh, look at the time. I should probably get going soon."
You feel a pang of disappointment but quickly recover. "Of course. I'll see you soon."
"Looking forward to it," she says with a smile, gathering her things.
As GentleMistress walks away, you watch her go, already counting down the moments until your next encounter.
You barely have time to settle back into your routine after leaving the cafe when your phone buzzes with a new message. Glancing at the screen, you see it's from GentleMistress.
"Hey there," the message reads, "I couldn't stop thinking about how lovely you looked today. Would you like to go out tonight? Dinner, perhaps?"
A rush of excitement floods through you at her message. It hasn't even been two hours since you saw her, and she's already texting you. You can't help but smile at her directness and enthusiasm.
Quickly typing a reply, you say, "Hi! That sounds wonderful. I'd love to go out with you tonight."
Almost immediately, another message comes through. "Great! I'll pick you up at 7. Wear something nice ;) Looking forward to it!"
Your heart races at the thought of spending more time with her so soon. You quickly agree and spend the rest of the afternoon eagerly anticipating the evening ahead.
As the clock ticks closer to 7, you find yourself getting ready with a mix of nerves and excitement. You choose your outfit carefully, wanting to make a good impression.
At exactly 7, there's a knock on your door, and when you open it, GentleMistress stands there, looking even more stunning than you remembered.
"Hi," she says, her smile lighting up her face. "You look amazing."
"Thank you," you reply, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks. "You look fantastic too."
With a smile, she offers you her arm, and together you head out for a night filled with good food, laughter, and the promise of something more between you.
As you step out with GentleMistress, now knowing her name is Yunjin, you feel a magnetic pull between you. The air crackles with anticipation as you walk side by side, the distance between you charged with unspoken desire.
The restaurant Yunjin has chosen is cozy and dimly lit, the perfect setting for an intimate evening. You're seated at a private corner table, and as you settle in, you can't help but notice the way Yunjin's gaze lingers on you.
"You look stunning tonight," she says, her voice low and filled with warmth.
"Thank you," you reply, feeling a shiver run down your spine at the intensity of her gaze. "You look absolutely gorgeous too."
A smirk plays on Yunjin's lips as she leans in slightly. "I couldn't take my eyes off you earlier. You have this... captivating presence."
Heat rises to your cheeks at her words, and you find yourself drawn to her, unable to look away. The chemistry between you is undeniable, the tension thick in the air.
As the evening progresses, conversation flows easily between you, but underneath it all, there's an undercurrent of something more. Every touch, every glance is charged with electricity, sending tingles down your spine.
At one point, Yunjin's foot brushes against yours under the table, and you feel a jolt of excitement shoot through you. She meets your eyes with a knowing smile, her gaze smoldering with desire.
"You know," she says, her voice husky, "there's something about you that I find incredibly alluring."
Your breath catches in your throat at her words, your heart pounding in your chest. "Is that so?" you manage to reply, your voice barely above a whisper.
Yunjin leans in closer, her lips inches from yours. "Absolutely," she murmurs, her breath warm against your skin. "I can't seem to get you out of my mind."
The tension between you is palpable, the desire hanging heavy in the air. You're both on the edge of something exhilarating, something you both crave.
Before things can escalate further, the waiter interrupts, bringing your food and breaking the spell between you. But the intensity of the moment lingers, and you know this is only the beginning of something electrifying between you and Yunjin.
As you finish your meal, the tension between you and Yunjin remains palpable, simmering just beneath the surface. You both step out of the restaurant, and the cool evening air does little to cool the heat between you.
"Would you like to take a walk?" Yunjin suggests, her voice soft yet filled with a hint of anticipation.
"Sure," you reply, feeling a rush of excitement at the prospect of being alone with her, even just for a little while longer.
You stroll side by side along the quiet streets, the city lights casting a warm glow around you. The silence between you is comfortable, charged with unspoken desires.
After a while, Yunjin breaks the silence. "You know," she says, her voice low, "I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since we met."
The admission sends a thrill through you, and you turn to face her. "I've been thinking about you too," you confess, your heart racing.
Yunjin's gaze softens as she looks at you. "There's something about you that draws me in," she admits. "I feel like we have a connection, something special."
You nod, feeling the intensity of the moment. "I feel it too."
Without warning, Yunjin reaches out and gently tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, her touch sending shivers down your spine. The intimacy of the gesture leaves you breathless.
"I want to kiss you," she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper.
Your heart pounds in your chest as you meet her gaze, desire burning in her eyes. Without hesitation, you lean in, closing the distance between you. Your lips meet in a soft, electrifying kiss, and in that moment, the world around you fades away.
The kiss deepens, igniting a fire between you that feels impossible to extinguish. Time seems to stand still as you lose yourself in each other, the passion and longing consuming you both.
When you finally pull away, breathless and exhilarated, Yunjin smiles, her eyes sparkling with affection.
"We should do this again," she says, her voice filled with promise.
You nod, feeling a sense of excitement for what the future holds. "Definitely," you agree, knowing that this is only the beginning of something extraordinary between you.
As you walk hand in hand with Yunjin, the connection between you feels stronger than ever. You find yourselves drawn to a quiet park nearby, the soft glow of the streetlights casting a romantic ambiance around you.
Finding a secluded bench, you sit down together, the atmosphere heavy with the electricity of the moment.
Yunjin turns to you, her eyes reflecting the moonlight. "You know," she begins, her voice filled with sincerity, "there's something about you that I haven't felt in a long time."
Curious, you meet her gaze. "What is it?"
"It's like you awaken something inside me," she confesses, her voice barely above a whisper. "A desire to explore, to connect on a deeper level."
You feel a warmth spread through you at her words, knowing that you feel the same way. "I feel it too," you admit, reaching out to gently caress her hand.
Yunjin leans in closer, her breath mingling with yours. "I want to get to know you more," she says softly, her lips almost brushing against yours. "Every part of you, every inch of you."
The intensity of her gaze sends a shiver down your spine, igniting a hunger within you that you can't ignore.
"I want that too," you reply, your voice filled with longing.
Without another word, Yunjin closes the distance between you, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. It's as if the world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you and the intensity of your desire.
Lost in the moment, you let yourselves be consumed by the fire that burns between you, exploring each other with a hunger that can't be quenched.
When you finally break apart, breathless and exhilarated, Yunjin smiles at you, her eyes filled with tenderness.
"I'm so glad I met you," she whispers, her voice filled with sincerity.
"I'm glad I met you too," you reply, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you.
Yunjin's gaze holds yours, filled with a mixture of desire and affection.
"Would you like to go back to my house?" she asks softly, her voice laced with anticipation.
The question hangs in the air between you, and you feel a surge of excitement at the thought of being alone with her, of exploring this connection further.
A million thoughts race through your mind, but ultimately, you know what you want.
"Yes," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper but filled with determination. "I would like that."
Yunjin's smile deepens, and she stands up, offering you her hand. "Come on," she says, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Let's go."
As you arrive at Yunjin's house, anticipation hangs thick in the air between you. She leads you inside, the warmth of the house enveloping you as you step through the door.
The soft glow of the lights creates an intimate atmosphere as Yunjin turns to face you, her eyes filled with desire. Without a word, she reaches out and pulls you into her arms, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.
The kiss is electric, sending sparks flying through you as you melt into each other. Yunjin's lips are soft yet demanding, her hands trailing down your back, pulling you closer.
You respond eagerly, your hands tangling in her hair as you deepen the kiss. It's like you can't get close enough, your bodies pressing together as if trying to merge into one.
Lost in the moment, you stumble backward until your back meets the wall, Yunjin pressing against you, her body molded to yours. Every touch, every caress sends waves of pleasure through you, igniting a fire that burns hot between you.
Yunjin's lips trail down your neck, sending shivers down your spine as she nibbles and kisses along your skin. Your breath hitches with every touch, desire pooling low in your belly.
With a soft moan, you tilt your head back, giving her better access as she explores every inch of your neck with her lips and tongue.
The sensation is overwhelming, and you find yourself completely lost in the moment, consumed by the passion and desire that courses between you.
Yunjin's hands roam over your body, exploring every curve and contour, setting your skin ablaze with need. You reciprocate, trailing your own hands along her back, reveling in the feeling of her pressed against you.
Time seems to stand still as you lose yourselves in each other, the world outside fading away until there's nothing but the two of you and the fire that burns between you.
Yunjin breaks the intense silence, her voice husky with desire. "Let me take you to my room," she murmurs, her breath warm against your ear, "so I can show you why we met on that website."
Her words send a thrill through you, and you nod eagerly, unable to resist the pull of her invitation.
"Lead the way," you reply, your voice filled with anticipation.
Yunjin takes your hand and leads you down the hall to her bedroom, the air charged with excitement and longing.
As Yunjin guides you to her bedroom, the air crackles with anticipation. Once inside, she turns to face you, her eyes dark with desire and a soft, reassuring smile on her lips. Without a word, she steps closer, capturing your lips in another searing kiss, igniting the passion between you once more.
With practiced movements, Yunjin begins to undress you, her touch sending shivers down your spine as each piece of clothing falls away, leaving you bare before her.
"You're so beautiful," she whispers, her voice filled with reverence as she traces her fingers along your jawline.
Your heart flutters at her words, feeling completely at ease under her gentle gaze.
Yunjin's touch is tender yet purposeful as she begins to undress you, each movement filled with care and affection. As your clothes fall away, you stand before her, exposed and vulnerable yet entirely safe.
With a soft sigh, Yunjin leans in, capturing your lips in a slow, sensual kiss. It's like every touch, every caress is carefully calculated to make you feel cherished and desired.
As the kiss deepens, Yunjin's hands roam over your body, exploring every curve and contour. Her touch ignites a fire within you, a hunger that only she can satisfy.
"I want to take care of you," she murmurs against your lips, her voice sending shivers down your spine. "To make you feel good."
You nod, unable to find words as desire pools low in your belly.
With a gentle push, Yunjin guides you onto the bed, her eyes never leaving yours. She leans over you, her body hovering just inches above yours, radiating warmth and tenderness.
"I want you to feel every touch," she says softly, her breath warm against your skin.
With that, Yunjin's hands begin to explore your body, tracing every curve and dip with reverence. Her touch is electric, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.
As she moves lower, her lips trail kisses along your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Every touch, every caress is like a promise of ecstasy, building the anticipation to unbearable heights.
When she finally reaches between your legs, her touch is gentle yet firm, sending sparks of pleasure dancing along your skin. You gasp at the sensation, arching into her touch as she brings you to the edge of bliss.
"Yunjin," you whimper, your voice filled with need.
She meets your gaze, her eyes filled with love and desire. "I've got you," she whispers, her voice a soothing melody.
With slow, deliberate movements, Yunjin spreads your legs wider, exposing you completely to her gaze. Her fingers dance lightly over your skin, sending shivers of pleasure up your spine.
Then, with a teasing touch, Yunjin's tongue darts out, tracing a slow path along your folds, collecting your arousal as she goes. You gasp at the sensation, your breath hitching as she explores you.
Yunjin's tongue works magic, swirling and flicking against your clit, sending waves of ecstasy coursing through your body. Her fingers join in, slipping inside you with ease, filling you up and driving you wild with need.
You arch your back, pressing yourself closer to her, desperate for more of her touch. Yunjin responds eagerly, her movements becoming more intense, more insistent as she brings you closer to the edge.
With every flick of her tongue and every thrust of her fingers, you feel yourself unraveling, pleasure building to an exquisite peak.
"Oh, Yunjin," you moan, your voice filled with longing.
She looks up at you, her eyes dark with desire as she continues to pleasure you, her touch relentless and intoxicating.
And then, with one final, mind-shattering wave of pleasure, you come undone in her arms, crying out her name as ecstasy washes over you.
Yunjin holds you close as you ride out the waves of pleasure, her touch soft yet messy, her fingers and lips leaving you utterly wrecked but completely satisfied in the best possible way.
Feeling you quivering with pleasure beneath her touch, Yunjin can't ignore the ache between her own legs. The desire to be inside you, to feel you wrapped around her, becomes almost unbearable.
With a soft groan, Yunjin positions herself above you, her hardness straining against her, aching to be buried deep inside you.
Hovering over you, she locks eyes with you, her gaze dark with need as she guides herself to your entrance. The anticipation sends a shiver down her spine as she presses forward, the tip of her hardness teasing your slick folds.
"I need to be inside you," she breathes, her voice thick with desire, her hips moving slowly forward, inch by inch.
You gaze up at her with longing, your own desire mirroring hers, and you nod eagerly, craving the feeling of her inside you just as much.
With a slow, deliberate pace, Yunjin pushes forward, her hardness sliding into you, filling you up until she's buried deep within your warmth. She pauses, savoring the feeling of being joined with you so intimately, the sensation almost overwhelming in its intensity.
"Oh fuck, you feel amazing," Yunjin groans, her voice husky with pleasure, her hips rolling against yours.
You gasp at the fullness of her, the sensation sending waves of pleasure through you. Wrapping your arms around her, you pull her closer, urging her to move.
Yunjin complies, starting to move with a slow, steady rhythm. Each thrust is deliberate, calculated to drive you both closer to the edge of ecstasy.
"Fuck, you're so tight," she moans, her voice filled with admiration, her hips rocking against yours with increasing urgency.
Your body responds eagerly to her praise, your own arousal building with each movement. You meet her thrusts eagerly, your bodies moving together in perfect synchronization.
With every thrust, you feel the delicious pressure building inside you, pleasure mounting with each movement. Your bodies meld together, becoming one in the throes of passion.
Yunjin's pace quickens, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she chases her own release, her hips rocking against yours with increasing urgency.
"You're so fucking beautiful," she groans, her voice filled with reverence, her movements becoming more frantic as she approaches climax.
You arch into her, meeting her thrusts with equal fervor, your own need driving you both towards climax.
You arch into her, meeting her thrusts with equal fervor, your own need driving you both towards climax. Sensing your desire, Yunjin shifts position, pulling out of you gently before guiding you onto your hands and knees.
"Let's try something different," she whispers, her voice thick with arousal, her hands gripping your hips as she positions herself behind you.
You eagerly comply, feeling a surge of anticipation as Yunjin lines herself up behind you, her hardness pressing against your slick folds.
With a low growl of need, Yunjin enters you again, this time from behind, and you gasp at the sensation of being filled in a new way.
"Fuck," you moan, the new angle sending bolts of pleasure through you.
Yunjin's hands roam over your body, gripping your hips firmly as she sets a rhythm, each thrust driving you both closer to the edge.
"Oh god, yes," she groans, her voice thick with desire as she pounds into you from behind.
"You're doing so well," Yunjin praises, her voice soft yet commanding, her hips moving with purpose as she takes you.
You push back against her, meeting her thrusts with equal fervor, lost in the pleasure of being taken so completely by her.
With each movement, the intensity builds, pleasure mounting with each deep thrust. Your bodies move together in perfect harmony, driving each other towards ecstasy.
Yunjin's pace quickens, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she chases her own release, her hips rocking against yours with increasing urgency.
"You feel so fucking good," she moans, her voice filled with lust and admiration.
You're on the edge, the pleasure building to an exquisite peak, and with one final, powerful thrust, you both cry out in ecstasy as you find release together.
In the throes of orgasm, Yunjin spills her seed inside you, the warmth of her release adding to your pleasure as you clench around her, riding out the waves of ecstasy together.
Collapsed in a heap of pleasure, you both catch your breath, feeling utterly spent but completely satisfied.
After the intense release, you collapse together, breathing heavily, the air thick with the scent of sex and satisfaction. Yunjin, still holding you close, gently guides you to lie on your back, a soft smile playing on her lips.
"Let me take care of you," she murmurs, her voice filled with tenderness.
You nod, feeling a shiver of anticipation as Yunjin settles between your legs, her fingers trailing down your body until they reach your sensitive core.
With a gentle touch, she begins to play with your clit, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you. Her touch is skilled, knowing exactly how to make you squirm and moan with delight.
"Oh, Yunjin," you whimper, overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through you.
She smiles up at you, her eyes filled with adoration. "You're so responsive," she praises, her voice sending a thrill down your spine.
Yunjin continues her ministrations, her fingers working magic on your sensitive flesh. Each stroke, each caress brings you closer to the edge once again.
You arch into her touch, craving more of her, feeling her seed spilling out of your cunt, mixing with your arousal.
"You're so beautiful like this," Yunjin whispers, her breath warm against your skin, her fingers never ceasing their delicious torture.
The pleasure builds and builds, until you're teetering on the brink once again, your whole body humming with need.
And then, with one final flick of her fingers, you tumble over the edge, crying out her name as pleasure washes over you in waves.
Yunjin holds you through your climax, her touch gentle and comforting as you ride out the aftershocks, feeling completely blissful in her embrace.
Yunjin holds you close, her touch gentle and reassuring as you both catch your breath. She presses soft kisses against your skin, her lips trailing along your neck and collarbone with tenderness.
"You're amazing," she murmurs, her voice filled with genuine affection, "thank you for trusting me."
You smile, feeling a warmth spread through you at her words. "Thank you for everything," you reply, your voice soft with contentment.
Yunjin pulls you into a loving embrace, holding you as if she never wants to let go. The room is filled with a sense of peace and intimacy, a sanctuary where you can be completely yourselves.
"I want to take care of you," Yunjin says softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face.
And she does just that, tending to you with gentle touches and sweet words. Whether it's wiping away stray tears, cuddling you close, or simply whispering words of comfort, she's there for you every step of the way.
You bask in her affection, feeling safe and cherished in her arms. There's nowhere else you'd rather be than here, wrapped up in this moment of love and intimacy.
As you lay together, the world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you in your own little bubble of happiness.
"I'm so glad I met you," Yunjin says, her voice filled with sincerity.
"Me too," you reply, snuggling closer to her, feeling completely at peace.
Yunjin pulls the covers over you both, tucking them snugly around you as if she's shielding you from the world. She presses a tender kiss to your forehead before snuggling close to you, her warmth comforting against your skin.
For a while, you simply lay there in comfortable silence, the only sound the quiet rhythm of your breathing. It's a moment of peace and closeness that you wouldn't trade for anything.
Yunjin reaches out to brush a strand of hair from your face, her touch gentle and loving. "You're welcome here anytime," she says, her eyes locking with yours.
You feel a rush of gratitude for her hospitality and her genuine kindness. With Yunjin, you feel accepted and cared for in a way you've never experienced before.
Snuggled together in the quiet of the night, you feel a sense of belonging, as if you've found a piece of home in each other's arms.
As sleep begins to claim you both, you drift off feeling grateful for this moment, and excited for the future that lies ahead with Yunjin by your side.
#bitchiswild#BIW.WRITES#lesserafim x reader#huh yunjin#huh yunjin x reader#lesserafim yunjin#lesserafim imagines#huh yunjin x fem reader#yunjin le sserafim#yunjin fluff#huh yunjin smut#yunjin smut#le sserafim yunjin#i love yunjin#yunjin#yunjin x reader#lesserafim fluff#lesserafim x fem reader#lesserafim smut#le sserafim smut#le sserafim
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mind if i get sappy both negatively and positively for a sec?
if you've been following me for a while you'll remember just last year when i was still in highschool and i was so, so lonely and this blog was getting more popular than i meant for it to be. i was a wreck. i had straight up nightmares about hypothetical call outs and people taking my words out of context to turn people against me and that I'd lose the few people i genuinely thought of as friends. i used to go over my old posts deleting them and obsessively editing the wording when i felt it could be twisted to mean something else. even worrying that the fact they COULD have a double meaning meant i was secretly a horrible person in some sick freudian sense. not a good time to have moral OCD! or anon asks open, lmfao.
and i look at my past self now, after my biggest fear realized so many times it's now a monthly annoyance at worst and well. of course i did. i had no one else! that was the extent of my friendships at the time. the people i met and came to love online were the only place i felt truly safe to be myself around without having to fight for my right to be respected or putting on a persona.
but guess what? that's not the case anymore. I'm out of my parents' house, i have authority over my own decisions and presentation, i have friends at school (real friends! more than I've ever had simultaneously in my life!) that enjoy my company in person and include me in the things they do, fully respecting my chosen name and identity as a trans person. i have a queer community to share my burdens and my joys with, i am finally, finally getting started on HRT which is a dream I thought I'd never reach... and guess what. even my online friends didn't give a fuck. i was so paranoid about being alone again that i forgot to consider that they... also care about me, just like i care about them. that they're not gonna dump me out of nowhere because some random asshole decided i was their parasocial nemesis of the week, and if they had doubts or questions wbout something, we could discuss it in private and either agree or agree to disagree on friendly terms.
idk I'm just doing the best I've ever done in my life. this period of my life is perhaps the first time I've ever felt like a complete and whole person. it gets me a little tender hearted looking back and seeing how much I've grown since the time "something like this" would've been world ending.
anyway if any of this rings familiar to you, know I'm proud of you as well. in the way you've grown AND in the way you will grow, given time. hold the line, soldier. things get getter. that's a promise.
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I had this random thought where the reader (gender neutral), from the very start of tdwt, Is aware of Alejandro's game and they use that to their advantage. Every time he tries to use his charm on them they uno reverse card him, flustering him instead. Their dynamic progresses throughout the show from an "I can mess with this guy" to "I hope we meet again when the show ends". Like, to the reader, the money doesn't matter to them anymore they just want to mess around with Alejandro and hang out.
MIND GAMES
alejandro burromuerto x gn reader
'' tick tock on the big clock ''
Alejandro Burromuerto. The charmer, the second Heather, the guy who gets the girl. He was all of those things and more. There's so much going on in this competition, so why is he dwelling on one thing?
That one thing was you. You saw through the act. And he respected you for it.
"Ah, (Name), fancy seeing you here." Alejandro smiles, sitting next to you on the bench in economy.
"We're on the same team, you know." You chuckle. Alejandro gets a bit closer to you.
"I must've been too focused on your beautiful face, mi amor."
"Oh really? Because, to my knowledge, your face is even more beautiful." You respond. God, Alejandro's lucky no one is paying attention to you two.
"Aww, you are too kind to me." He leans away, smirking at you. You lean forward, whispering something in his ear. His whole face flushes and he looks away. You just laugh.
During the time you weren't voted out, Alejandro was like a flirting machine at your side. He tried making you crack. He really did. But he failed
"Ugh! (Name) is just so hard to manipulate. They see through everything, and it isn't like they're just stupid!" He sighs to the confessional. "They're incredible, aren't they?" He says dreamily.
The camera cuts to Alejandro close up, saying, "Give me the tape! Ugh, how do you open this thing!? Give it to me!"
This was it. Alejandro had to vote you out before he got too caught up in whatever spell you put on him. You walked up and sat down next to him.
"Hey, Alejandro." You said. Alejandro just looked at you. "I already know I'm getting voted out, so, uh, I just wanted to tell you that I enjoyed what we had."
Alejandro raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"The constant flirting and bickering. It was kinda fun, if I'm being honest." You smile. "I'd like to get to know the actual you, after this whole thing is over. Am I able to give you my number if we see each other again?"
Alejandro paused. Why was his heart aching?
"Of course." He said. And to his surprise, he hugged you.
And you hugged him back.
#total drama island#total drama x reader#alejandro burromuerto#alejandro burromuerto x gn reader#alejandro burromuerto x reader#alejandro td#td alejandro#alejandro tdi
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Kayfabe: A Good Omens meta
"Kayfabe," in wrestling, is the performance (including outside the wrestling ring) of whatever storyline is being woven around the wrestlers. Breaking kayfabe is Serious Business for a wrestler; the illusion is part of the event. If you ever wondered how John Cena could anchor an entire HBO miniseries brilliantly, kayfabe is a big part of the answer.
Because of their histories and how their respective Head Offices treat them, Crowley and Aziraphale approach their version of kayfabe -- their whole "I am an angel! You are a demon! We're hereditary enemies!" schtick, also their "we are good bad proper little footsoldiers, honest, Boss" schtick to their respective Head Offices -- very, very differently.
I promise there's a point to this. I PROMISE. But let me walk through it first.
Both of them know that one awkward question to Upstairs at the wrong moment and its Fallsville. Crowley, however, knows a couple of things that Aziraphale doesn't have to:
Punishment isn't just once; in some ways, the Fall is never over. Beelzebub or Hastur can throw you in the Dung Pits whenever, after all, or feed you to a Hellhound, or zap you like an Eric. Crowley's lot do not send rude notes. (s2: we do not know what happened to Crowley after Hell dragged him back at the end of the Resurrectionists 'sode, but I think it safe to say it was not great for Crowley. Litotes: your key to quality meta.)
Downstairs can and does check in -- or drag Crowley Downstairs for a chat and possibly a bit of idle torture -- whenever they feel like it. Downstairs seems pretty disorganized, especially its leadership, so I'd expect ad-hoc surprise inspections from them. Downstairs can invade Crowley's flat's TV, his Bentley's radio, and his very mind to perform those inspections. Crowley is never, ever safe from this. He can't relax. Ever.
Heaven, on the other hand, has 37 levels of scriveners and zero interest in Earth. Talk of "reprimands" and "miracle budgets" and Michael being a stickler and whatnot suggests a formal review process happening on a schedule, governed largely by the dreaded (but quite possibly fake-able or spinnable) "paperwork" rather than direct observation by Aziraphale's peers or superiors. Otherwise, Aziraphale is usually left to his own devices. Remember how startled he is when Gabriel shows up at the sushi restaurant in s1? This is unusual!
(We also know from Muriel that Heaven's records office doesn't seem to get consulted a whole lot. It's possible this just means that first-through-thirty-sixth-level scriveners handle everything, but in my experience of large bureaucracies, it's the folks at the bottom of the hierarchy who invariably get run off their feet first. Don't see why Heaven would be any different.)
Moreover, Heaven's punishments seem pretty light, on the whole? Our angel is so anxious and so sensitive to slights that I'm sure the reprimands aren't fun, and nobody likes a reduced miracle budget... but Heavenly "needs improvement" reviews don't seem to be a patch on the Dung Pits. The real threat is Falling, which is more than horrible enough to serve as deterrent; Heaven doesn't need to add torments.
Moreover moreover, Aziraphale is mostly aligned with his Head Office in a way that Crowley really, really isn't. I'm sure Aziraphale does a lot of his Heaven assignments with a song in his heart and a skip in his step -- it's mostly not smiting or the like. Crowley... probably spends a lot of his work time figuring out how to obey the letter of Hellish law while defying its spirit. Crowley's in far more danger of angering his bosses.
So Aziraphale doesn't have to keep up kayfabe a lot of the time, not even while interacting with Crowley. He can and does save it for the rare occasions Heaven takes a personal interest. Crowley, however, must keep up kayfabe always, whether Aziraphale's there or not. The courage it must have taken that snake to slither up the wall of Eden!
The way Crowley navigates his permanent need for kayfabe is twofold. First, his all but instinctive refusal to accept any positive word or compliment about himself or his actions from anyone ever -- "I'M NOT NICE!" If Hell were ever to hear someone characterizing Crowley that way... That's also why Crowley is a bit less exercised when Jimbriel calls him nice: "nobody'll ever believe you."
Second, a species of Orwellian doublethink: maintaining a running commentary in his head of how he's going to justify any unHellish actions to Hell, since he can never know exactly when he'll have to or what exactly they'll have a bug up their butt (sorry, Beez) about. Even high as a kite on laudanum in the Edinburgh cemetery, Crowley can explain his current justification (in a curiously sober voice -- is Crowley ever really high in that scene? or is it all kayfabe? I lean toward kayfabe) to Aziraphale, "Not kind! Off my head on laudanum, not responsible for my actions."
We can see the kayfabe mismatch play out a few times, and it does appear that Aziraphale gets more concerned for Crowley's safety and more aware of Crowley's need for kayfabe post-Arrangement. That doesn't mean he always remembers, of course -- he wouldn't, he just doesn't have that same desperate need. And, of course, the ineffable walnuts do not communicate, as s2 went to some lengths to point out. I do think kayfabe is part of that -- it's hard for Crowley to be sincere when he's constantly doublethinking, and Aziraphale's off-and-on involvement with kayfabe (and all his other tendencies toward lying) disincline him to achieve or even learn about honest communication.
One s1 scene I went back and rewatched while thinking about this was the Globe scene, which contains Aziraphale's Saint-Peter-esque three-time denial of Crowley. I find it easy now to read that as Aziraphale going "oh crap do I need to drop back into kayfabe now? I didn't break kayfabe, did I?" and Crowley grinning, at least partly as reassurance. (Partly, of course, because Aziraphale is cute and funny even when kayfabing -- and partly because Aziraphale's sudden drop into kayfabe is Aziraphale trying to protect Crowley, of course Crowley's pleased by that.)
The wall pin, now that I think about it, also gains a little nuance from this. Crowley's fear-laced ire is genuine, but how many times must Aziraphale have heard Crowley snarl at him not to break kayfabe in this way? No surprise he's a little unimpressed. (With Crowley's demand. He's clearly very impressed by Crowley.)
In the s2 Job minisode, Aziraphale hilariously drops kayfabe (and that epic whole-body halo, loved that, great job FX folks) almost immediately. Crowley allows it, because Crowley is on firm ground -- Hell will be just fine with Crowley wrapping the angel in a Chuck-Jones-cartoon amount of scroll parchment and flipping him off.
When angel and demon collude on the con later, of course, they observe kayfabe, improv-style -- Crowley helps Aziraphale deal with the Job's-children situation without giving either of them away to the watching angel posse. Interestingly, it's Aziraphale who de-gecko-izes the kids. That gives Crowley an out, sort of: "look, the mansion collapse missed them because they were in the cellar, I turned them into geckos, totally Hellish thing to do, they'd never survive in the wild, but then this bloody interfering angel went and changed them back!"
And how does Crowley console a distraught angel who thinks he's about to be dragged to Hell? Crowley explains kayfabe in the fewest and clearest words possible. "Well, yeah, you did, but... I'm not going to tell anybody. Are you?"
So yeah. That's kayfabe for the Ineffable Walnuts.
But I promised there was a point to this, didn't I? Yes, I have a point.
My point is...
my POINT is...
my point IS...
(not dolphins, not this time)
My point is, how much of s2's Final Fifteen Minutes is kayfabe?
That's my point.
#good omens season 2 spoilers#gos2spoilers#gos2 spoilers#ineffable husbands#ineffable walnuts#kayfabe#good omens meta#the point is not dolphins
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