#but its not anything particularly unhinged
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Alright, everybody! Since its the time of the year again, here's the post of 2024 in which, I wanna thank the moots who made this year amazing!
Right off, the bat (and in no particular order) :
@dormarunt @puduhegepa @marqenobi @misalpav and @maraudersbitchesassemble we didn't talk much this year but for whatever time we did, I am so glad to have talked with you all!
Hoping to do so and more next year! 😁
To @orgasming-caterpillar, my dearest, you never fail to amaze me with your strength and amuse me with your antics!
@prettykittytanjiro @shinchansbitch @randomx123 @jeahreading @im-on-crack-send-help I am so glad to have known you this year and I hope to know you more in the coming year
@aru-loves-krishnaxarjuna @tothemoonandbacklove you guys are absolute sweeties. No arguments here.
@akidev @budugu @voidsteffy I love you guys so so much! Y'all radiate such warm energy and aura its difficult to stay away from you all! 😭
@ae-dil-ae-saudaai (raman yeh kya url hai 😭) @meow-merchant-mf @milady-motherfucker Pijon (derogatory) (someone tell me his url) for being the bestest boys here and for being such lovely guys!
@desigurlie and @rhysaka the work you guys are doing for hindublr is fan fucking tastic and takes a lot of balls to do it! My salute to you both (and also to all the other members who actively work for this!)
(and now PARTICULARLY in the descending order with the best being at last, cause yeah its ME bitch)
@bandarrrrr for being the best bro ever! Love ya tots! 🫶🏽 And I am so so glad to got to know you this year! Hoping to do so next year as well!
@manujanolavu my wifey, love of my life, sweetheart, sweetieboo....you are the sunshine on a dark day, the rainbow at the end of the hailstorm and overall someone who has a good heart!
@h0bg0blin-meat my basketcase, unhinged tumblr twin, last year I said I wanted to know you better and now idk if i regret it or not 😂
But in all seriousness, you are the friend to be held onto and I KNOW I can come to you to harrass you as well as whine my heart out!
@lavandulacosmos you know whenever a problem arises and you are in need of good vibes or just plain safety, the first place we think of is home. You have become that home for me. I dont need to talk to you everyday but I know if anything happens, you always have something for me to make it better. Whether its a quip that'll make me scowl or a heartfelt advice that would make things better, you always have smth for me.
Bestest for the finale, @wedgeantill you deserved this position like SO LONG back but well, here you are!
I dont know how the fuck we became friends but I am very glad that we did and I am so so grateful for you that I have no words to describe it. Even though we squabble more than half the time and give empty threats to each other, I know theres affection behind it and I am so happy to just see you, even tho you drive me nuts.
Its been 3 years since we met but with you, time feels like its slowed down. From lcdp gifs to personal stories, we have come a long way and I PRAY I get to thank you again next year for being with me and being there for me. Love you so much (/PLAT 😂)
And whoever is not mentioned here and sees this post, I thank you too for making this year lovely for me!
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I'm new here and the Tkashirt reminded me of a question I have: *Is* Cats social media particularly fun and unhinged? Because I love it but I don't know how unusual it is for the NHL today
i am quite literally the worst person to ask these things considering i dont perceive other teams consciously and i have them all blocked on all socials for my own sanity because i am a hater deep down to my bones so quite honestly-
the best i can do is
#ask#the actual answer? i wouldnt particularly call them unhinged#fun yeah for sure sometimes theyll do somethings that make me raise a brow#but its not anything particularly unhinged#honestly theyre fun in the safest ways possible which isnt bad but sometimes you wish they participated in more trends#and like the best concurrent example i can come up thats relevant is the “stupid fucking questions id ask nhlers if i ever interviewed one”#where i would say a sizeable amount of teams have already made videos answering them#hell even the sabres did the coach edition and got lindy ruff of all people to answer seriously#which like the sabres are one of my more favourites with how they interact with media and content but thats my own personal bias talking#i just think in comparison they tend to be slower on trends and pick and choose extensively which they choose to participate in#and tend to be pretty safe#does any of that make sense sorry im like the worst person to ask this lmao
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"Bite Me" - Alastor x Reader
next
You were a strange addition to the hotel.
A quiet sinner demon with no merit to speak of who just waltzed in without much fuss or fanfare. No blowing up walls, no trying to kill anyone, no entertainment what so ever.
You were so boring, Alastor didn't even want to mess with you.
...
At first.
Then, quiet and unassuming, you slowly established yourself as both over-forgiving and sharply blunt.
It was amusing watching the whiplash on a demon's face when you flip between them so much in a single day.
Once, Angel Dust was high as a kite and practically lobbed a brick at your head. Your response was "No harm done, don't worry about it." later that same day, the spider-fellow draped an arm around Vaggie's shoulder and slung some sort of ridiculous insult. You moved his arm off of her and said "You need to learn to watch what you say or I'm ripping this arm off and shoving it down your throat."
Usually that last threat would lead to some other comment, but the flat way you said it and moved on to a different subject left the spider fellow standing there without much else to say.
How amusing!
Even he was no exemption from your two-faced nature, it seemed. One moment apologizing for accidentally blocking his path, the next informing him that you'd use his antlers as forks if he didn't leave you alone. Silly little threats that were oh-so pathetic when said by such a...underwhelming, individual.
Alastor's favorite of yours was 'I'm going to eat your kidneys'. Then how rude you were to decline the cooking lesson he offered!
Typically your quips and comments were about trivial things, little things that Alastor would purposely do in order to get a reaction.
THIS TIME, THOUGH
He had a particularly annoying run in with Vox one day, trudging back to the hotel with his patience already at its limit. Husk knew better than to comment on it, shying away from him as he prowled through the lobby. Angel Dust was at the bar counter, eyeing Alastor as he strode on through.
"Ya look like shit." He commented passively.
"Thank you ever so much for the keen observation." Alastor said with a smile. Husker flinched, ears dropping. It was only then he noticed you there as well, a forgotten drink in your hand as you gaze lingered on Husk, a frown setting to your lips.
The rest of that particular exchange wasn't of any significance. It wasn't until later when you sought him out in the Hotel's parlor things escalated.
"You need to calm down."
His grin hitched up and he leered down at you. You were more than a foot shorter than him and your big eyes did little to make you look more intimidating.
"I beg your pardon, dear?"
"I said you need to calm down." Your tail swished in agitation. "I get you had a bad day but that's no reason to take it out on other people."
Alastor chuckled "Oh goodness. My apologies, my dear. But you have absolutely no ground to tell me to do anything."
He back you up against the wall, hands planted on either side of you. His antler stretched out and his eyes took on the appearance of dials as he leaned down. Sharp teeth grazed your face, hot breath stung your eyes. Claws carved their way into the wall on either side of you.
"So, my dear, what was it you said? I'm afraid I didn't quite catch it."
"I said you need to calm down."
Alastor's eye twitched, his grin twisting into something so much more unhinged. No hesitation. Were you stupid?
A look at you said yes, but you knew damn well the danger you were in. You were trembling, pupils shaking breath shallow. But you still had the nerve to speak to him that way?
"All right, what if I don't?" He purred, tracing a claw over the side of your face "Go on ahead and let me hear whatever pathetic threat you have."
"I'll bite you." spoken in that flat tone of yours.
Alastor laughed "As amusing as always-"
Pain burst from his shoulder, sharp and sticky as fangs burst through flesh. Perhaps it was shock that had him stumble back, perhaps it was amusement that allowed you to get away from him. You opened your jaw, withdrawing your teeth from his shoulder as skin and cloth clung to the spaces between your bloodied fangs.
You gave him a pointed glare as your wiped some excess blood off of your face and prowled off without so much as giving him a second glance.
He had every right to hunt you down and rip apart your soul right then and there.
Instead he found himself losing his balance, falling onto his rear on the floor. Fingers curled over the fresh and large bite mark on his shoulder. The damn thing nearly covered the entirety of between his collar bone and his arm socket.
He pulled his hand away to stare absently at his own blood.
You must be venomous. That was the only way to explain why his heart was suddenly racing and his face suddenly felt far too warm. His breathing was off, shallow and uneven.
You actually bit him.
Were your threats actually not so empty?
Did you really intend to use his antlers as forks?
He laughed to himself, letting his hand drop back to his side. This was ridiculous! If you meant even half the strange threats you threw at him....then...
Well. He was in danger.
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coriolanus snow is not a good man— he watches you from afar, eyes like a hawk and plush bottom lip pulled between his teeth. he doesn’t know if he’s being obvious and he doesn’t particularly care. he feels his teeth clench when you laugh and chat with other men, something hot and unpleasant stirring below his ribs. it should be him that makes you giggle like that, makes your nose scrunch like a little bunny rabbit at a joke. jealousy stings and he finds himself having cruel thoughts about things he wishes would happen to those other boys.
coriolanus snow is not a good man— but you speak to him so kindly, so softly. he’s never once mentioned anything about his home life, careful to keep up his facade. but you? you notice the way his cheeks are hollow, the way his belt has extra notches punched into it to tighten further. you wordlessly slide him a granola bar in class and pretend you don’t hear the way his stomach gasps the way he refuses to let his mouth do. you bring him a tin of cookies you “had leftover” the night before, filled with chocolate chips and butter that will bring his calorie count for the day up. he doesn’t say thank you, but the way the corners of his lips twitch upwards and his gaze softens when you pass him a pastry under the school desk is enough thanks for you.
coriolanus snow is not a good man— his hands shake sometimes, when he remembers the way sejanus had cried for him to help at the hanging tree. when he remembers the sound of his only friend’s neck snapping and echoing, the way it sent chills down his spine and he felt like vomiting. he did that. he killed sejanus. he is a murderer, and yet you still brush his hair back in the middle of the night. its starting to grow again, pale locks falling over his brow. he is a murderer, and you still kiss his temple. you still whisper that you love him, that he’ll be okay.
coriolanus snow is not a good man— the sore in his mouth aches, a necessary evil to ensure your safety. he’d had no other choice, that senator from 2 was eyeing you all evening at dinner. for fuck’s sake, he shouldn’t let it get to him. he’s a president now, not some unhinged teenage boy. but the way that man had touched you, let his fingers linger at your waist, that would simply not do. you are the first lady of panem, you were untouchable. to anyone but him, of course. as you pass by him where he sits, you tut softly and pause to brush the blood off his lip, licking the red fluid off your own fingertip and dropping a kiss to his head. you remind him to be careful.
but coryo is good to you— he touches you so carefully, hands so gentle. his fingertips are always cold, but it never bothers you. not when they brush against your hairline, his palms cradling your cheeks as he kisses you like a man starved. not when they graze the bare skin of your back, your chest flush with his as his lips make their way down your neck. not when they squeeze at your hips, your thighs splayed out around his own waist and trembling with the way he pushes his cock up into you. not when they caress your cheek in the morning, his soft whispers of “good morning, sweetheart,” echoing in your ears.
coriolanus snow is not a good man. but he is your man.
#coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow x you#coriolanus snow x reader#coryo#tbosas#coriolanus snow smut#coriolanus snow angst#tom blyth
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Office hours.
Pairing: modern!Javier Peña x f!reader Words count: 3059 Rating: +18, NSFW, MDNI
Summary: You should concentrate on work. But you can't do that with the charming bastard you share the office with in front of you. Why not find a more fun way to spend your office hours? Tags: porn with very little plot, modern setting (they have computers and chats), POV second person, reader is described wearing a skirt, blouse and heels & having pussy and breasts, no other description of her is given, Javier is an unhinged menace and has a filthy mouth but so is reader, dirty talk, teasing, improper use of office chat, cockwarming, masturbation (f!receiving), pet names, slurs, pussy pronouns, mention of a sex toy, no Spanish because I don't really want to butcher another language since I am doing this extensively with English 💀, squirting, sexual activities in a public place, no age gap, age unspecified so it’s up to you (they’re both in their 30s in my head), the work they do is not specified so you can imagine what you want. I think it’s all? If I realized that I forgot something I’ll add it right away.
A/N: This is the second time I've tried to write Javi P and I'm terrified but because it came out on its own in a frenzy: here we gooo. I'm ovulating and I'm horny af. LOL It probably doesn't make sense, I don't have a beta reader, I reread it myself but my eyes are tired, English is not my first language so I ask your forgiveness if you find mistakes. I hope you like the dirty talk of this thing, I feel like it came out particularly well…fingers crossed.
You should really focus on your work, you have a deadline to meet tomorrow and you're still behind. And you certainly can't focus with a certain coworker in front of you. When they decided that you had to share a big office you secretly decided that your boss was an idiot. How productive could you have been with Javier Peña sitting at the desk in front of you? Obviously your boss expected you both to be adults, capable of controlling your own instincts. What you thought instead was that it would be the hell that it actually is. Because Javier is a charming bastard and you have had a crush on him since day one and he's definitely the type to flirt with all the women in the office.
You hate his guts and you fight practically all the time over any little inconvenience, but the creeping attraction between you, that feeling of always being on the edge of a cliff, that constant urge to provoke him to see which one of you would crack first never left.
And today, when he showed up in yet another shirt that left his chest partially exposed-because the bastard in question wasn't the least bit interested in buttoning the last few buttons-and those damn skinny jeans straight from the ‘70 that on anyone would have looked silly and anachronistic but on him did nothing but send you into a frenzy of desire, you felt it might be the last straw.
Appropriate office attire does not exist for him, he only wears a tie for meetings with your boss but the rest of the time he dresses as he wants and apparently no one says anything to him. Fucking great, just what you need, seeing his chest displayed right in front of your eyes all the damn time.
You never even liked mustaches but now you couldn't help thinking how much you wished they would rub against your folds as he lapped at your cunt. You dreamed of him carrying your scent on him for the rest of the day, dreamed of kissing him and tasting you on his tongue.
You dreamed of getting up and going to sit on his lap as you continued to type the report you promised your boss and his cock rubbed against your thighs, your panties, and even better your bare pussy. You thought about it practically all morning and got so wet that you risked wetting your office chair, so much so that on your lunch break you had to hide in one of the bathroom stalls and take them off, to store them in a bag inside your purse.
But now you are naked under your skirt. Which is even worse and makes things even harder for you. You jotted down in your mind that it was time to think about bringing a change of underwear with you. Now the fact that Javi was on the other side of the room was even more unbearable than before, setting you on fire. The temptation to do something stupid and make yourself a needy fool was eating you up.
Javi looks up for a moment from the documents he is working on, casting one of his typical glances at you, big brown captivating eyes that stare at you many times during the day, only for a few seconds at a time. Minutes of each day flow so slowly when he is in front of you. You really shouldn't think about him; you're here to work. In theory. And you need this damn salary if you don't want to live without electricity or run out of food. The selfish asshole in front of you however doesn't seem to care that you will probably be fired soon and end up under a bridge, because he continues to tease you in any way he can. One day it's a quip about your nail polish, the next about your overly revealing blouse, the next about the length of your skirt. And then there are those glances, sometimes accompanied by a wink, mischievous smirks, a tilt of his head, little things that no one ever notices but you. He never pushes the envelope, but oh, by now you know he wants to. A week ago he asked you if you wanted to have a drink after work, and you said no, absolutely not, never mix business and pleasure, it was a very strict policy in your department.
You regretted it right away, but what else could you have done? He's not someone you can trust.
He didn't push further, of course, which made you even more impatient, nervous, incredibly horny.
It's a challenge now, you have to have him. And you have to have him before your female colleagues, at least the ones on your floor. You always notice how they look at him, languid and sweet eyes, lip licks and lower lip nibbled, hair moved behind their ear, every time he walks down the hallway of your floor, there is no lady who doesn’t stop working at least for a moment to marvel at him.
It’s late now, the sun has long since gone down, almost everyone around you has been gone for at least 30 minutes, but you have been distracted all morning and now you have to catch up. You hoped he would leave with the others but he stayed here. You’re doomed at this point, you can’t even think straight anymore. You know there’s some other colleagues three offices ahead, down the hall, whom you saw five minutes ago when you got up to get a cup of coffee. As you reread what you wrote, with your eyes fixed on the computer screen, you can't get him out of your mind, feeling his eyes on you, heat blazing under your skin. You turn toward the door in a clumsy attempt to avoid his gaze, realizing that you have closed it.
And well, after all, you've been working hours, maybe you can take a little break. Just five minutes. And what better to do in those five minutes than tease Javi?
You don't mind playing and playing with him seems almost natural and physiological given his constant attempts to sabotage your self-control; perhaps you could try to sabotage his a little without risking too much.
So you open your legs. Just a little bit, just enough to show him that you're not wearing panties.
And you look at him, without saying anything. Javi licks his lips, you know his eyes have caught in full what you wanted him to see. His jaw tenses, his hand clenches into a fist over the papers he is examining. Little imperceptible reactions that you crave like water in the middle of a desert.
Until the chat banner you use to communicate with colleagues lights up on your desktop.
“I can smell you from here.” it says. The sender is obviously that bastard you share an office with.
“I don't know what you're talking about,” you quietly type.
After a few seconds another message appears.
"Your delicious pussy, of course, you tempting little slut." You turn to look at him who is totally deadpan.
You click your tongue and type, “You should be thinking about your work, not my pussy, you know? Highly unprofessional. I should go straight to someone in HR and report you”
“Oh yeah? And so you want everyone to know that you come to work without underwear. Typical greedy slut behavior."
You lean against the desk, pretending to be shocked at first, looking at him with disappointment. A small smile creases the corners of his mouth, a hint of teeth between his lips, his eyes fiercely twinkling, he is convinced he has made you uncomfortable.
Smiling in turn, savoring the taste of victory, you lower a hand between your legs, grazing your now totally soaked folds.
His eyebrows rises slightly, his eyes fixed on your fingers moving slowly over your outer lips.
You type “I think you like what you see” With your other hand.
He swallows, lowering a hand to his jeans in turn. You lean against the back of the chair to get a better look and clearly catch the tent that is growing under the crotch. He bites his lower lip, one hand moving up and down over his bulge and the other typing on the computer keyboard.
“I bet you don't have the guts to come over here and make my cock feel that tight pussy of yours.”
Okay, you think, if you want to play dirty that's what you're going to get.
You look around, listening to every little noise from the other rooms, the office seems empty and quiet.
You close your eyes, just a moment, before grabbing some papers from your desk, getting up and walking toward him, swaying on your heels.
What you've been dreaming of doing all morning is about to happen, you feel yourself floating like in a bubble.
He unbuckles his belt and pulls down the zipper of his jeans, freeing his huge shaft as he stares at you.
He turns his wheeled office chair toward you and you straddle him.
He grabs your hips gently pushing you down on his cock, the tip grazing at your folds “such a slut”
“If anyone here is a whore it's you. Do you think I don't know that you're getting off with half the accounting department?”
“Mh, maybe you should inform your pussy, she seems to have lost the memo judging by how much she's dripping on me.”
He holds his cock with one hand as you lower yourself onto him, looking down to where your pussy and his cock are coming into conjunction.
“Oh please shut up, I don't give a shit about your office banter.”
You drag this out for months, days upon days of longing and teasing and nights spent in bed imagining that he was the one sucking you off instead of your toy.
You lean down holding his shoulders and whisper in his ear, “Stuff it all in.’” and you start rubbing yourself against him, feeling his huge dripping cock all inside your cunt. He stays still.
You moan lightly and he shushes you "you have to be quiet honey, do you want us to be caught? Do you want them to notice that you are cockwarming me instead of working?”He places one of his hands on your mouth, your stifled moans vibrating on his fingers as you grind until your cream is leaking down his balls, his jeans, making a mess on his chair.
“Christ, you’re so fucking wet” he murmurs thrusting a little and starting to hump his whole dick inside, he reaches your clit with two fingers and starts moving them slowly in circles over it “she’s squeezing me so right, baby, I can go on for hours just like that, stuffing you full with my cock” His other hand is resting on your hip, just above the waistband your skirt and he holds you close to him.
He pulls out a little and pounds it back in, making you writhe and moan “Fuck yeah, you hear it? Your noisy sticky little cunt gushing for me? It’s like a fucking symphony” he whispers
Your whines vibrate on his fingers “oh baby, you really have to learn your manners. I said keep quiet.” He removes his hand from in front of your lips and sticks two fingers in your mouth “suck these. Maybe you'll learn to be quiet with your mouth full. Or should I fill that one with my cock too?”
You suck them greedily, feeling the taste of your pussy spread over your tongue. “That’s right, baby, just like that”
You hear the main floor door slam, the last people have also left, you are now alone and his cock is buried inside you.
“Jesus, look at the mess you’ve made on me, sucking my cock in like the desperate little slut you are… you wanna come, huh?”
You nod, as your tongue swirls on his digits, licking and sucking enraptured by your taste and his gaze locked on yours.
“Yeah, I bet you want this cock to pound you senseless, am I right?”
You nod again, feeling your heart raging behind your ribcage.
You never felt so desperate for anyone, the way he’s torturing you, his cock deep down inside you without moving an inch, your pussy drenched, his precum smearing all over your walls mixing with your fluids.
You feel delirious.
“I know baby but not here.” He whispers mischievously and your eyes are almost on the verge of tears “you can come tho, let me help but you have to be very quiet for me, okay?”
You think the office is empty, but you can't be sure, there are so many rooms and someone could still be inside.
He slides his fingers out of your mouth and puts them back on your clit, starting to rub it gently. They are coated in your saliva and slide pleasantly over it, sending you almost over the edge.
“Look how swollen she is, poor little cunt, she wants to come so badly, isn’t she?” his low hoarse voice gravels in your ears as he pinches your clit and begins to jerk it off faster.
You writhe trying to stand up a little to ease your numbed legs but he pins you down on his cock digging his fingers in your hip “nah, you stay where you are, honey, gonna come full of me and at the pace of my fingers”
You bite your lower lip hiding your face in the crook of his neck “no, look me in the eyes, I want to see that pretty face while you come like a whore for me”
One of your hands wraps around the back of his neck as you force yourself to look in his eyes. They are black with lust and desire, pupils dilated and fixed on yours in a frenzy.
His fingers move faster and faster, his cock throbs inside you.
“Come apart for me, babe, let me feel your greedy cunt squirting for me, come on”
His words are enough to send you over the edge, you come copiously squirting on top of him as he doesn't stop rubbing your clit.
“Yeah, baby, just like that, you’re so fucking beautiful right now”
You strive to keep your eyes on him but eventually throw your head back overwhelmed by the heat spreading inside you, enveloping every cell in your body and pulsing uncontrollably in your veins.
It’s too much, it’s all too much and he didn’t even fuck you properly yet.
You collapse onto his shoulder, holding onto his neck, panting against his skin “Fuck”
“Yeah, baby, I know, that’s what you wanted huh? Coming full of me like a bitch in heat?”
You look into his eyes and whisper, “Oh, no, I want so much more.”
“Oh yeah? What else do you want?” He grins.
“Take me home. Now.”
“Ask nicely, baby”
You huff “Take me home, Javi, please”
He chuckles “Hungry little thing, what do you want me to do for you once we get home?”
You sigh and then looking into his eyes defiantly whisper “I want you to fuck me, I want you to fuck me so hard that I scream, I want the whole neighborhood to hear me. I want your cock pounding inside me all night”
He clicks his tongue and replies, “So cheeky asking me to take you home and fuck you while my cock is still inside you.”
“That’s what I want, do you think you can do that for me?” You ask, raising your eyebrow.
“Of course. You chose the right man for the job.”
He slaps your ass before you stand up and fix your clothes as best you can. His jeans are completely covered in your juices and his cock still rock hard, you hope that no one is really there or they will notice what you have done.
“Here, put this around your waist,” you say, handing him your black cardigan.
He looks down at his jeans, laughing. “Damn, you made a real mess. I think I’ll have to get rid of that chair, too.”
He wraps your cardigan around his waist so that the sleeves hang down the front, almost completely covering the dark, wet stain.
“Let’s get out of here”
You take a deep breath, turning the doorknob down and looking out into the hallway, you look left and right and there doesn’t seem to be anyone “come on, let’s hurry” you say waving and he chuckles behind you. You walk out the door in silence, walking down the hallway to the front door.
You press the elevator button while he pinches your ass “stop it” you hiss.
You enter the elevator, side by side, and as the doors are about to close, a hand reaches between them, stopping them.
Your boss enters and looks at you in surprise. “Oh, you’re still here?”
You’re screaming internally as you struggle to keep a poker face and reply calmly “Yes, of course. I had to work on that report and Javier offered to help me out.”
Your boss nods, completely unaware. “Good, I expect it to be on my desk by tomorrow morning.”
You nod, lying, “yeah sure, definitely, it's practically over.” as you hear Javier stifle a laugh.
You turn to give him a disapproving look as he covers his mouth and looks down to quell his giggles.
You arrive at the lobby in the longest elevator ride of your life.
“See you tomorrow then, have a good evening” Your boss says as soon as you three come out.
“Good evening” you babble thanking God he didn't notice anything.
“Oh shit, that was a close call!” Javier laughs as soon as your boss gets in the car.
You slap him on his shoulder “does that sound funny to you? Come on, take me home and make me forget that I just risked losing my job”
“I can’t wait, honey,” he puts his arm around your waist as he walks you to his car.
Sure, you don’t know what’s going to happen and you don’t know if it’s worth it but you can’t wait to ride him on a bed and forget your name too.
general tag list: @aurorawritestoescape @baronessvonglitter @milla-frenchy @thundermartini @harriedandharassed @almostempty @lovely-vamp-princess @pedrostories 🌹
#pedro pascal#javier peña#javier peña fanfiction#narcos au#javier peña smut#javier peña x f!reader#javier peña x female reader#narcos fanfiction#ppcu fanfiction#ppcu fics#ppcu#javier pena smut#javier pena fanfiction#pedro pascal character fiction#pedro pascal characters fanfiction
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siblings or dating?
mary fowler x mancity!reader
summary: people never knew what your relationship was like with your doppelgänger
it’s always been something people noticed first. the resemblance.
you still remember the first time you met mary, both of you showing up early to manchester city’s preseason camp. its weird wearing blue, since you were used to the pink you wore for portland.
the first person you spotted was mary. you spotted her across the field and froze for half a second—she looked like you. same sharp jawline, matching cheekbones, eyes that crinkled the same way when she laughed.
she must’ve felt it too because when her gaze landed on you, she blinked, tilted her head, and gave you the same crooked grin you wore when you were confused.
“weird,” she’d said when you finally introduced yourselves, shaking hands, studying each other like you were staring into a mirror.
“yeah.. uh.. it’s a little weird,” you agreed, trying to suppress the laugh that bubbled in your throat.
it wasn’t until months later that you realized how much weirder it would get. teammates made jokes almost immediately, calling you “twins” when you sat next to each other on the team bus, making you pair up for drills because “you’re basically the same person.”
you and mary laughed it off at first. then it started becoming a thing. fans pointing it out on social media. commentators stumbling over how to describe you when you lined up next to each other on the pitch.
your own families were raising eyebrows when you brought mary home over the holidays. it’s impossible not to see it: you look alike.
so when you and mary fell into a relationship—a slow burn that neither of you expected but both of you welcomed—you wondered how the hell you were going to explain it to anyone outside the locker room.
“we’re not sisters,” mary said once, teasing you after a particularly brutal “twin” joke from the team.
“i promise. i’m just the prettier version of you.”
you rolled your eyes but smiled anyway because, well, you thought mary was beautiful. it didn’t matter that she looked like you; she wasn’t you. she was stubborn and fierce and australian and always knew when to crack a joke to lighten the mood.
she wasn’t your mirror—she was your partner.
it didn’t stop the world from noticing, though. the viral moment happened on an ordinary saturday afternoon, city up by a single goal against arsenal. you were desperate to close the game out, sprinting into the box as the minutes ticked down. laia sent a pass your way, and you didn’t think—just struck the ball cleanly, sending it past the keeper into the far corner.
the stadium erupted. you spun around, pumping your fists in celebration, and then mary was there, arms wrapping around you from behind, lifting you off the ground.
“yes, y/n!” she shouted into your ear, her voice breaking through the roar of the crowd.
you laughed, leaning back against her, letting the moment settle over you. you could feel her grinning against your shoulder, her excitement bleeding into yours.
for a second, you forgot that you were on a pitch in front of thousands of people—it was just you and mary, a girl who loved you and who you loved right back.
the moment exploded on social media.
fans who followed you closely were thrilled, posting screenshots of mary’s arms around you, captions calling it the sweetest thing they’d ever seen. but casual viewers, the ones who didn’t know your story, were confused.
“are they sisters or girlfriends?”
“this is so weird. they look identical.”
“is anyone going to talk about how she’s dating her doppelgänger?”
you and mary laughed about it later, scrolling through twitter together on the couch. mary leaned her head on your shoulder, smirking as she read a particularly unhinged comment aloud.
“it’s strange, isn’t it?” you murmured, setting your phone down.
mary hummed, thoughtful for a beat.
“maybe. but we don’t have to explain anything to anyone, do we?”
she was right. you didn’t owe anyone an explanation. you didn’t owe them the story of how you met,and how you fell in love. you’d found someone who made you feel seen and loved and whole—someone who just happened to look like you.
“besides,” mary added, nudging you playfully,
“you’re lucky. not everyone gets to date someone as beautiful as me.”
you rolled your eyes, laughing softly as you kissed her temple.
“you’re right. i’m lucky.”
and you were.
you didn’t care what anyone else thought. mary was yours, and you were hers, and that was all that mattered.
masterlist
#mary fowler#manchester city#woso fanfics#woso community#woso x reader#australia#auswnt#vivianne miedema
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Fanfiction prompt: considering that wind can see ghosts but instead of hiding it he thinks that everyone can see them because everyone has dealt with supernatural forces
Main while the chain is freaking out because wind keeps talking to nobody and telling them that their his friends or the most unhinged statement he is enemies with the stripes guy who always stands menacingly in a corner trying to be cool (fierce deity)
And the chain starts to worry about wind badly because that is not sane behavior
While another part of the chain (particularly twilight) doesn’t take it THIS seriously because he remembers how Colin spent weeks complaining about his imaginary friend not playing with him and that children can be imaginative especially when bored and that only making him a new toy got him to play with his friend again
And that ends up in the chain thinking that wind must be incredibly bored because they walk all day and not letting him explore and play with bugs and they decided to fix it (but quickly realized that they are in the middle of a forest with nothing particularly interesting)
Wind main while has absolutely no idea what to do with the hand made toy lobster (legend definitely can sew like have you seen him and the ton of outfits he has) or the Fact that Wolfie seems particularly persistent to play fetch ..!.,?! What is going on!? (Twilight quickly realized that he is dog shaped and he also feels extremely guilty that wind is only walking with them)
But also he definitely can’t throw it away because the legend clearly put effort into the thing and he does love lobsters
And he would rather die than let the chance pass to play with Wolfie (that guy never has fun and nobody can make him play anything and the look of pure envy from Wild was totally worth it he is Wolfie's new favorite now , screw you wild)
But unfortunately that one extra toy seems to do nothing about Wind's insistence to talk with walls
And Wolfie tries really really hard to be more interesting than the walls ( he is failing because ghosts will always be more interesting )
The second they enter a town every single link with money goes to ransack the entire town for toys
And wind catches on about their concerns with his mental state and realizes that explaining them how he can see ghosts would probably confirm to them he is crazy
He awkwardly takes the toys and rearranges them in a way that every ghost is next to a toy so that the chain can stop complaining about him because now he has the excuse that he is totally talking to his toys and not any other beings or voices or walls
The chain is happy because they can almost always see him talk to the toys and play with them (the dread they feel when he keeps naming them after dead loved ones of them is something but maybe it is just a coincidence)
Then they catch him playing a game and it’s just the lobster who apparently is named after legend and the bird who he named Marin (Wind was totally only re-enacting Marin's story because he is definitely an adult and only doing the logical thing)
Time later sees him with Wild's majora’s mask (that sits with its face turned like it’s trying not to look at someone) while Wind keeps talking about a big guy with stripes on his face and how he tried to be cool when defeating the demon (war flashbacks activated because that stripes guy seems very familiar)
And legend gets an aneurysm because that lobster story strikes way to close to home for him
They take way to long to figure out in this one (they are the heroes of courage not wisdom afterall)
#linked universe#lu wind#lu time#lu warriors#lu legend#lu sky#lu four#lu wild#lu hyrule#lu headcanons#crack fic#link's awakening#wind waker#Major's mask
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KINKTOBER 2024: Somnophilia - J.WY | Dream a Little Dream
Incubus Wooyoung. That's it. That's the plot.
⛧ pairing: jung wooyoung x fem!reader
⛧ tw: smut, somnophilia, dubcon, tongue fucking, slight bondage, mating press, talks of breeding
⛧ wc: 2800
⛧ network: cromernet
You had never put much stock in dreams before. While they were always fun to discuss in passing with friends, especially after a night of particularly ridiculous imagery, it was never anything you felt compelled to analyze or try to understand. From something as mundane as dreaming about your 9-5 to as outrageous and unhinged as fever-induced delirium, it was just another part of the human experience for you, as natural and monotonous as blinking. Tonight was different. Not only had the content of these dreams been something you had never experienced, but the odd state of limbo that it left your brain and body in felt…unnatural. You wondered if all wet dreams were meant to feel this way.
While your mind was present enough to understand that it was, in fact, a sexual dream that you were experiencing, it didn’t feel like it was the one behind the camera. Your subconscious felt just as disconnected from the scene as you did, two peas in a pod stranded on the sidelines, left to piece together what was happening through an incredibly thick fog. In reality, it wasn’t even the blotchy slideshow of patchwork pictures that faded in and out of view that alerted you to the contents of this dream. No, that came from the braids of fire and heat that licked over the curves of your body and left you trembling and gulping for air. You could not recall a singular time that your body felt as present and lucid during a dream as it did now. Hell, you couldn’t remember your body ever feeling like this, awake or otherwise. It was as if every nerve that peppered your skin was pulled taut, and ready to snap. The sensations were honestly overwhelming. Between what felt like large, heavy hands pawing at and groping your tits, ass, and thighs and a long, slick appendage dragging liquid fire between your breasts and down your navel, your brain was not able to fully process one sensation before being presented with another. It wasn’t until you felt a swift and sharp thwack against your weeping pussy that you were able to gain any semblance of clarity, an image finally clearing the vapor as a gasp was pulled from your throat.
He was the most exquisite thing you had ever seen. With skin the color of varnished bronze and facial features that appeared sharp enough to slice pliable flesh, the creature that hovered over your paralyzed form looked like a Grecian statue given life. The planes of his naked body were fit, the musculature beneath the skin firm and taut. Curtains of satin black draped just past his shoulders, the tilt of his head pulling your hungry eyes from their venture over his body and up into the face of the beautiful stranger. When your eyes finally met his intense and penetrating gaze, you felt your breath catch in your throat, the corners of his full mouth curving into a devious grin. One of his eyes had a monolid while the other was double-lidded, something you had never seen before but knew you would forever commit to memory.
“Glad to see you’ve returned to this realm of consciousness, sweet thing.”
Every syllable he spoke felt like a stroke of pure heat against your clit, causing your back to arch beneath him, your choked breath now pushing from your throat in the form of one of the lewdest sounds you had ever made. Amused by this, the creature chuckled playfully before pulling his eyes from yours and taking his turn to assess your body. A forked tongue began to push past his plush lips as his eyes traveled over the length of your curves, extending further from his mouth the lower his vision traveled. You followed suit, your chin tilting into your neck to watch his every movement. His tongue was now fully unfurled, the split at its tip teasingly dragging lazy circles over your pubic mound. Without any prompting, your legs readily parted for him, your hips widening and preparing themselves to take whatever it was he had to offer. That was what the demon had been waiting for. The slick appendage quickly shifted south, and its forked tendrils curled around and tugged on the bundle of nerves that sat atop the entrance to your sex. If you had jerked your head back any harder and pushed your back into a tighter arch, you're sure both would’ve snapped, just as your mind had. You had been sent tumbling head first into the orgasm, the band that had been holding you together coming apart and spreading molten fire across your body. It was tangible, too acute and too real. There was no possible way this was a dream—
Somehow, you were crashing into another wave, your thighs clamping shut, only to be forced open again as the length of his tongue flattened against your slit. Pushing past your folds, it burrowed itself deep into your sex, curling against the plush mound of flesh that ignited all of your pleasure receptors and left you in a complete tailspin. The convulsions rocked your body, forcing your ass off of the now damp mattress, a sound you had never heard before pushing past your throat and mingling with the wet sounds of his tongue fucking you. His assault on your body slowed as you felt your head begin to pull above water. Your skull felt as heavy as a ton of bricks, your vision hazy and your ears clogged. You could hear the stranger speaking to you, his wicked tongue back behind his lips where it belonged. However, the longer you lay in your mess, the more difficult you find it to fully pull yourself out of your euphoric stupor. You felt fingers digging into your cheeks then, your head lolling over on your shoulders as you were forced to face him, his angled nose mere inches from your own.
“Aht aht, sweet thing. Can’t have you tapping out on me now. I haven’t even properly bred you yet.” His breath smelt of honey and bourbon and it only made your head swim more.
“I know what’ll bring some life back to those pretty eyes…”
You were aware of his body shuffling over yours as your head rolled back into its previous position, his hands instead filling themselves with the curve of your ass and pulling your body into his. You were completely malleable in his hands. As he cradled your backside and kept your hips elevated off of the mattress, your shoulders remained pressed into the bedding. You followed the shape of his body, blinking past the film that clouded your eyes. You felt it before you saw it, the tips of his fingers tracing over your lower abdomen in swoops and scribbles that you couldn’t quite piece together. Once he had finished the sigil, you felt the weight of his palm press into the muscle there, causing a lick of heat to ignite between your thighs. As he massaged into your tender flesh, your vision began to slowly clear and your body began to ground itself, the smug grin that colored his features now stark and apparent. Over his shoulder, you could see what appeared to be a black coil begin to unfold behind him, curving past his clavicle and creeping itself slowly up the length of your body. Before you had time to properly gain a handle on your limbs, you felt the tendril wrap itself in your hair and jerk you upwards. In one smooth motion, you found yourself seated in the creature’s lap, his palm still pressed to your belly, and fully impaled on his dick.
The scream that filled the room rang as clearly between your eyes as the church bells that signaled Sunday Mass. The sheathing of his cock and how it filled you and stretched you to make you feel the fullest you ever had was more than enough to have your mind completely cleared of the fog and root you back into your body. Again, your eyes met the deep, dark pools of his own and he held you there as he continued to knead into the muscles of your lower abdomen. Working your insides and pushing down, causing the fountain at the base of your spine to begin to bubble with heat. Though his tail still held steadfast to your tangle of hair and continued to pull to straighten your spine, your hands reflexively reached for his broad shoulders, looking for some kind of purchase. This pulled a snicker deep from inside his chest. It was all instinct and animalistic need.
“Good, good angel. You’ve got the right idea.”
Untangling from your hair, your locks falling around the both of you and draping you in its length, his tail retracted past his shoulder, only to pull your fists forward, effectively caging the demon in your arms…and locking you in place. In what felt like a blink of an eye, the creature had removed his hand from your belly and instead filled both palms with your hips, holding your body in place. And with minimal effort, he began to work you on the length of his dick. At first, they were long, punctuated strokes, making you feel every inch of him before stabbing into the deepest parts of your womb. As he felt your body adjust to his size, your breaths evolving from sharp intakes of air to throaty, languid sighs, so did his pace. Fingers dug into your plush flesh, bouncing you on his length and rolling your hips into his. All you had to do was sit there and take it. This sexual deviant had taken your body and all but turned it into his fleshlight. And, for reasons that were beyond your comprehension, you didn’t mind that. This dream had taken you above and beyond anything that the physical realm had ever been able to grant you sexually. When you find yourself wiping the sleep from your eyes and proceeding with your mundane day-to-day, you may very well not remember a singular detail of the bliss your consciousness had conjured for you. So, fuck it. If you were going to be used as a demon’s fuck toy, might as well enjoy it while you could.
As if a switch had been flipped, you felt yourself beginning to control the movement of your hips, his hands simply acting as guides instead of the driving force. It was now you working yourself on him, chasing that ever-tightening coil in the pit of your belly and willing it to snap open and break you apart. Except now, you weren’t the only one whose body was fully invested. With each grind of your pelvis into his or slap of your ass lifting and then slamming back into him, you could hear his grunts begin to deepen, his fingers in your flesh tightening, his brows knitting. His tail tightened around your wrists, yanking you forward and compressing your breasts tightly to his chest, forcing you to change angle and rock your hips instead of bouncing. You were, once again, inches from his face. His breath washed over you and heated your lips, angular nose occasionally bumping yours as you alternated the cadence in which you fucked him. Honey and bourbon filled your nostrils and in that moment, you didn’t care how close you were to cumming, how delicious it felt to have him stretching your pussy. All you could think about was how he tasted.
Your lips crashed into his, hungry and desperate as your teeth pulled his full bottom lip between your own and gave it a hard suckle. Similar to what you had imagined, only better. He tasted like a hot toddy, warm and rich and full. Reciprocating the kiss, his hands left your hips and encircled your back, one reaching up and tangling in the hair at the nape of your neck, the other reaching across and filling itself with your round ass. You moaned into his mouth, the feeling of him surrounding you and swallowing you whole, leaving you on the precipice and threatening to send you diving into the deep end. That, unbeknownst to you, set off a trigger all its own for the demon. He paused, gulping down air, as if he was taking your moans and devouring them. You felt him shudder around you and his cock pulsate deep inside of you. There had been a palpable shift in energy, one that caused goosebumps to speckle your body. Before you could move to press your mouth to his again, you felt the grip in your hair tighten, yanking your head back and exposing your throat to him. A growl crawled up from his belly and vibrated against your neck as he pressed his lips there, teeth nicking at the skin.
“I am going to fucking ruin you.”
Again, the position shifted. Pushing you back into the mattress, he left you no time to breathe, no time to think, no time to process the weight of his words. You were being folded in half, your knees pressed up against your chest as the weight of him fully enveloped you. On one sharp inhale, he was inside of you again, hunched over your body and pumping so violently into you that you were convinced you were going to break apart beneath him. This was his true nature, a being built from pleasure whose sole purpose was to conquer and breed, dumping his seed into any living mortal whose spiritual guard was low enough to allow him entry. But, you didn’t care. The only things your mind could hold onto were the feeling that was snaking up your spine, the rubber band that was pulled too tight, and the orgasm that you knew was going to tear you apart. And him dumping his load directly into your womb like the breedable bitch you were.
“Oh, fuck.” His teeth found the crook of your neck, biting down tightly as he gave one final pump into your sex, groaning deeply as he spilled into you. You felt your eyes roll back, your body beginning to convulse, and with every hot rope of seed that emptied into you, another wave of ecstasy crashed down and smothered you. There were no tangible thoughts. Only the feeling of being stuffed full and overflowing. And then? Nothing. Just a sea of black.
Your head felt like it had been removed from your shoulders and was one whisper away from cracking open and spilling over your pillow. As you peeled your lids apart and blinked past the sleep that still clung desperately to your lashes, you reached up and shielded your eyes from the rays of morning sunlight that leaked into your bedroom. You had woken up with your fair share of migraines before, be it from a night of drinking or just a rough day of work the day before, but none of those compared to the pain you were in right now. It wasn’t until you pulled yourself up onto your elbows that it wasn’t only your head that felt like it had been put through the wringer. Your entire body felt sore and achy, your shoulder and hips especially sore.
“What the hell…” you croaked, pulling yourself up into a seated position, and pushing past the pain with a sharp intake of air. “I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.”
You rolled your shoulders and neck, a sigh of relief leaving your lungs as you felt your joints stretch and pop, relieving some of the pressure that had built overnight. Now that you were mostly awake and out of your sleep-induced stupor, you tried to think back to your previous day and see if you couldn’t pinpoint what may have had you feeling so beat up. From what you could recall, it hadn’t been a strenuous day. It was just as average as any other normal work day, followed by you coming home, eating dinner, and relaxing with a glass of wine before turning in.
“Huh…I wonder if I caught a bug or something?”
Pushing your hand up beneath your night blouse, you laid your hand flat against your tummy and slowly started to rub, the morning hunger beginning to awaken right alongside you. That was when you felt it. Something that hadn’t been there the night before as you showered. Something that hadn’t been there as you fell into your sleep. Raised skin along your lower abdomen that swooped and swirled this way and that. Panicking, you lifted your shirt and peered down, your eyes widening as your skin paled and a cold sweat began to speckle your brow. There, etched into your flesh, was a sigil. One that had already healed and scarred over. And, resting at the center of that sigil, an eloquently written J, W, Y.
#catkyunie fic#cromernet#atz#ateez#ateez smut#ateez fanfic#wooyoung x reader#wooyoung smut#jung wooyoung#wooyoung#kinktober 2024
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Waiting for the Ocean
(A/N): I just needed that. Maybe you do too. Enjoy.
Summary: Something wrong is with his girlfriend. Max is fearing for their relationship.
Pairing: Max Verstappen x fem!reader
Warnings: GRIEF, angst, so so much angst, emotional pain, some swears.
Wordcount: 1.7k
🏎Masterlist🏎
______________________ Max fears for his relationship. It’s as simple as that.
Lea has been distant recently.
Not really engaging when Max talks to her, telling her things from media duties or bits and pieces from the debriefs and team meetings. Which is weird, to Max at least, because Lea is a queen for gossip. That’s their way of bonding.
But currently, Lea only nods, her eyes having a far away look in them, signaling to the dutch man that his girlfriend mentally checked out.
He also feels shut out from Lea’s thoughts. When just a couple of weeks ago she told him close to anything that went through the pretty head of hers, from unhinged ideas to deeply philosophical questions, now there is not even a single opinion voiced. They sit together in the living room like strangers in a café, merely sharing the same space, but not the same feelings anymore.
Lea started to keep more to herself, locking in her hobby room, or woman cave as she called it when they moved into the apartment. Max has to admit, while not particularly proud, that he already tried listening to what is happening on the other side of the cold door. But he never hears more than shuffling when pressing his ear on the firm wood.
As a man who for 24 out of 52 a year drives a car made of durable cardboard at a literal neck breaking speed, Max feels utterly and completely helpless. This sudden shift in his girlfriend's behavior, leaves him with a feeling of a big heavy stone in his stomach. There is no escaping this reality, no matter how much he wishes for it. Right now, his relationship with the love of his life is crashing against a wall much faster than he ever drove. And Max feels like a bystander, watching the car crash in slow motion and sped up at the same time.
This sinking feeling, when you suddenly realize that there is a fatal problem, it’s killing Max. It closes up your throat, making you afraid to eat, drink, fuck, even talk. The longer it settles into your stomach, the less anything makes sense. Reality becomes a warped precious piece, your whole world view is tilted on its axes. Is anything you ever believed in before this feeling creeped up, even true? Who is to be trusted when you can’t even trust your own feelings right now?
In the last couple of days, Max knows one thing to be definitely, unshakably, true: Lea is not cheating on him. He can’t explain how he knows it for sure. But if he starts accusing his beloved of being in an act that ultimately kills a relationship, he can break up with her right way anyway. Accusing Lea of cheating on him, turning her back on their relationship, is the equivalent of accusing her of killing his mother. Because in a way, she would kill his feelings. Towards anything.
He tries to think rationally.
If it is not cheating, what is causing this riff between them then? What else makes a person who shares one hundred percent of themselves, say next to nothing? What whimsical feeling, moment, must have happened to change a person this drastically?
Max thinks about when it all started a couple weeks ago. They haven’t been out at that time. It can’t be any outside trauma. Or can it?
Maybe it’s something on her phone? Maybe people started some online hate campaign?
Max does what he despises the most. but for the sake of his relationship, he takes this upon himself: Reading through instagram and twitter comments.
What the Dutch man sees is nothing amusing to him, but it is unfortunately only the “usual” amount of hate and insults Lea has to see herself confronted with as the girlfriend of Max Verstappen. Something you usually become desensitized to with time. Still, he sends a few of those to his team of lawyers, desperately wanting this scum of people to find themselves dealing with the consequences of her actions.
Maybe, the hate is part of the reason Lea is so distant? Is the hate and limelight finally getting to her? Max wouldn’t even be able to feel mad towards Lea if that was the case. He knows the bad feelings many humans harbor towards him for most of his life, since none of them really hold back on their opinions.
Fed up about the silence and this bad, acidic feeling in his stomach that is giving him a heart burn, bile rising up to his throat, Max knocks on the hobby room door. “Schatje? We need to talk.”
Silence.
For several minutes.
Maybe his girlfriend is listening to music and can’t hear him through her headphones? Max produces his phone from his pocket with his left hand, the right one clutching a bouquet of flowers -sunflowers- for her. Either as an apology for if he actually has done something gravely wrong, or as a little pick me up. Even though they are a bit of an odd choice, Max never questioned her preferences.
He looks at their shared spotify. Lea actually listens to music, in German he recognizes. It is called “Waiting for the Ocean”. An odd title. Max shrugs and calls her instead.
“M-max?” The woman’s voice is small. Broken.
The sinking feeling, the big stone in his stomach? Yeah, that one. It turned into a fucking mountain when he heard Lea calling for him through the phone. If he can, he would climb through it and hold her, protect her from all the evil in the world until it ends and burns to the ground. And beyond that, into eternity. If Lea lets him.
“Schatje? Can you please open the door? I think it is time to talk.”
One beat.
Two beats.
Three, four.
Shuffling.
Max feels a wave of relief, the mountain in his stomach transforming back to a big stone when he hears the lock clicking.
Lea stands there. eyes red, face hollow, shivering like a leaf in the wind. “Oh baby” Max coos, enveloping her in a hug so tight, he is afraid to break one of the young woman’s bones. The bouquet of sunflowers is thrown to the ground. There are more important matters on hand.
But it seems like that crushing hug is the twig needed to break the whole dam. The floodgates of tears open immediately, making Lea sob and cry into her boyfriend's arms. Knowing that if one person for sure catches and holds her when she is falling, it is her Maxie. The guy who once searched up every shop in Monaco that was still open in the middle of the night, only to find one specific sweet craving of hers.
The man, who keeps a little metal box with her supplements with him, because he knows she forgets them at home whenever they travel.
Her boy, the one who is shield and sword to her. He will always catch her.
“I-I miss her”, Lea hiccups between sobs. The pit in Max’s stomach is finally lifted, knowing he is not the root of this situation. But it is instantly replaced by an ache in his heart, going in so deeply, it could be a medical concern. Because the pain in her voice, it’s unlike he has ever heard from her.
It is so raw, so fresh, Max himself has to draw in a shaky breath. He gulps, drawing patterns and letters on her back with his fingers. “Who are you missing, Schatje?” The Dutch man asks the question to which answer he is afraid of hearing. The pain in her voice and tears streaming down her face in rivers are enough to deduce that the missing person in question is not easy to be reached.
It takes Lea a couple of minutes to calm down enough to even try to answer. Her sobs are just so body wracking, breathing doesn’t come easy to her. “My grandma”, Lea hiccups, clinging to Max. “It has been nine years. And it still feels like we got the message yesterday.”
The pit in Max’s stomach is back. He knows about the death of her grandma. He hasn’t been told any actual details, but just that it was tragic, untimely and right before Christmas started.
He pulls Lea closer to himself. Hoping to bring her the comfort she needs right now. The tears are back in Lea’s eyes.
“You know what hurts the most?” She sobs. “She died alone. In a hospital bed. Surrounded by loud machines, a sterile smell in a cold room. No one was there for her” Lea takes a couple deep breaths to continue talking the words off her chest, the one that feels so heavy, an elephant could sit on it and it would have been a lighter weight.
Max stays quiet, stroking her head and holding her tightly. He knows that it is not the time to say anything yet.
“She was all alone. Just one night nurse for who knows how many patients. A woman with three kids and six grandchildren. Dying alone. In the middle of the night. In pain. Max- she didn’t deserve any of this.” Lea dissolves in tears again.
Max just holds her. He can’t do anything else. No matter what he will say, the pain will stay.
Grief doesn’t work like that. There is no magical formula of words strong together that will make her feel better. Not right away. There is no good short term relief from grief. Because come to think of it, grief marks the love to one person that you just can’t give to them anymore. This is why it hurts.
And for love to end, there is no instant remedy. Just like for grief.
It comes and goes in ways. You can only stand on the shore and wait for the ocean to come, ready to swim in the waves of memories, pain, despair and a love that can’t be received anymore.
#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen x fem!reader#x you#x reader#x fem!reader#reader insert
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I just saw your post about the difference between passive and swan. I'd like to ask the difference between young swad and dream?
shittier doodle this time cuz Im getting tired but the ramblings are probably more unhinged
I dont have particularly strong feelings on dream so this is gonna be mostly younger swad and comparisons to dream when needed
-Views social interaction as inherently transactional and as a game that he can learn to play (he doesnt realise that in the village he was never going to be a player on equal ground, this is why after his ascension his persona is more deity ified rather than a king or smth like nm cuz he wants to be Above it all and in control.)
-Been obsessed with swan even as passives (His Duty to help people got drilled into him, the village feels entitled to his help and swad slowly grows tired of them, but his little brother is always kind to him and doing things for him feels so much more rewarding [tho eventually the village tries to stifle any attempts swad does to get something nice for his brother which frustrates swad so much and swan not asking for anything and just being happy to see him and trying so hard just to make swad happy, even as hes hurt fuels this.] so the mix of the sense of duty, him being the older brother so self imposing a sense of responsibility and swan being nice to him leads him to adopt a mentality where Swan is the only one whos special and actually cares about him not just what he can do for him, but with the way hes raised by the village he tries desperately to try and do something for swan in return cuz he still feels like hes failing in his part of the social bargain)
-Also the cult village placed sooooo much value on stuff like never being angry, always being happy :), youre not allowed to be mean, you Must be hardworking all the time, visibly showing that youre sad is Evil. And swad seethes constantly cuz no one in this fucking village follows that and the one person who embodies all these values the most is swan (who everyone still hates for reasons inexplicable to swad, who believes theres still a way to get swan out of his outcast status if the village just realises that swan is the kindest soul in this rotten place.)
-Dream maintains a more "child" status in the village even as hes older than when swad fights to "adult" status, seeing it as a way to get more social power cuz he picked up that Adults have more power than Children but lol not for him, he just gets to have more responsibilites, the expectation to cut off swan and no money OR gifts for his work cuz gifts are for children doing chores not working adults and since its both swads duty and the fact that he doesnt have anything to spend it on that wouldnt be spending it unwisely they just dont pay him at all! and also hes an object not an adult to them so rushing to try and be an adult backfired miserably
-Swad loves listening to swan read stories to him, reallly wants to be the Prince who saves the damsel and sets his enemies on fire and he projects that persona
-Both he and dream were taken hunting I think, but dream didnt take to it (he had a knack for archery but as soon as he was told to turn that arrow on an innocent bunny he couldnt do it, his more "child" status helps him get out of it) swad was also aprehensive at first but since he places a lot of importance in being the Older Brother and being responsible (also he wants to kill people) so he shoots the bunny, he feels bad and cries about it to swan but he cant let go of the feeling, the smell of blood, the idea of that being someone who hurt swan
-in my head he killed people already lol (used the hunting trips as cover but his hit list is soooooo long and he gets less and less opportunity...)
-he loves shiny things so much but being materialistic and greedy is one of the sins, swan cant get him anything but he does press little flower ornaments for his brother and so much flower jewlery so that swad can roleplay being a prince.
-he hates everyone soooooooo much <3
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A Justice Lord Superman AU where all the Batfam except for Damian die.
Damian now grieving and alone returns to the League of assassins, the LoA are successfully using Lazarus and/or other forms of ancient magic to hold their territory, with Damian’s bat training they easily keep their grip.
He sets up like stained glass windows as memorials for his family and tells stories of them, he’d do anything he could to make them be remembered.
Damian starts training a group of assassins with specially Robin lineage techniques as a way to pay tribute to his predecessor’s. The assassins all assume the previous birds must have been some kind of forces of nature, like they’ve heard of the bats from Lady Talia and the Demons Head, while technically they’ve heard of the birds to they’ve always been more mysterious than the bats, when people talk about the bats its clear where they were first got experience, like Batman and BlackBat were trained by the LoA while Batwoman had military training and Oracles father was the police commissioner. The birds only have slightly traceable roots with Damian himself and maybe Steph but her father wasn’t particularly high level, sure they had experiences that helped but to the LoA it seems a lot like these guys just popped out of nowhere, they were unhinged and dangerous for the entirety of their careers.
The basis for this is essentially Damian desperately trying to figure out how to mourn without destroying himself, all while trying to do the Robin legacy proud.
#batman#batfamily#dc comics#dc universe#dcu#batfam#robins#damian wayne#dick grayson#duke thomas#tim drake#jason todd#stephanie brown#cassandra cain#kate kane#justice lords#league of assassins
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(manip by me, original poster by art chantry)
welp there's a (short!) fic now 😏
for the "kink: condoms are fun!" square of my @cap-ironman stony bingo round 2 card, 1.5k, rated E:
Like so many 21st-century notions that most modern folks took for granted, getting Steve Rogers onboard with the idea of condoms for gay sex was yet another concept that required some getting used to. As ever, Tony was more than willing to help him adjust to it -- was particularly eager, in fact, to demonstrate it for him.
So he took Steve’s hesitant objections in stride. Though he conceded that STDs weren't actually an issue between them, Tony still felt obligated to get Steve up-to-date on one of the primary functions of using protection. He didn’t blame the poor guy for assuming that “VD” was only something that men contracted from women, given how the sex-ed propaganda of Steve’s time pointedly ignored the existence of homosexuals at every turn (yes, Tony had become quite the WWII-era culture buff ever since he and Steve got together). “Rubbers,” ergo, were only used to prevent pregnancy and war effort-undermining cooties from ‘loose women,’ as far as Steve was concerned.
He hadn’t yet learned about the AIDS epidemic. He hadn’t learned anything at all, really, about homosexuality, aside from what little he’d gleaned from his limited exposure to different cultures and social norms during his stint as a soldier. Just getting him to come out of his internalized-homophobic shell even a little bit after Tony had finally figured out that the tension between them stemmed from a sex thing rather than the other kind of dick-versus-asshole thing was a huge challenge all on its own; one which Tony had only persevered through because he was already way too far-gone on the guy by then to consider giving up.
But now— after way too much dithering and denial and a gradually-dawning acceptance of the earth-shattering truth of the matter— they were finally fucking each other. Enthusiastically, and often. Tony’s patience had won out big time, and his rewards just kept on coming. And coming. And coming.
Turns out, Steve has a refractory period that’s basically non-existent. One of the many benefits of being serum-enhanced. Truly, Tony has no complaints on that score, considering his own notoriously rabid sex drive. Match made in heaven, in all honesty. It would seem that Steve is intent on making up for lost time, and Tony is only too happy to oblige him at every opportunity—
—which is where the condom thing comes in. Tony doesn’t mind that they’re fucking like rabbits now. It’s great! Amazing! Best thing that’s ever happened to him, really! But honestly— it can get kinda messy, given how Steve seems determined to fuck on every conceivable surface he can think of -- and often during moments that might not be entirely convenient, such as in the immediate aftermath of a mission; be that during touchdown at SHIELD headquarters when he and Tony are still suited up, or even on the freshly-vacated Quinjet on a number of occasions... -- occasions which their teammates definitely weren’t as oblivious to as Steve had been quick to assume in his lust-clouded fever (Tony had seen Nat’s knowing look after Steve had asserted his captain’s voice to tell him, “Stark: hang back a moment. There’s something I need to discuss with you in private.”) He was so disastrously conspicuous sometimes, but Tony wasn't bothered by it. He just found it ridiculously charming.
So Tony’s started carrying condoms around with him at all times now, knowing that Steve’s delightfully unhinged libido could strike at any moment. It's his privilege to always be ready for him.
The first time Tony fished one of these out of his pocket and pressed it against Steve’s big, warm chest during a heated make-out session in the locker room, Steve frowned down at the little packet with the most adorably confused expression Tony had ever seen on a full-grown human.
“...A rubber?”
“Uh huh,” Tony had breathed out, eagerly rolling his hips against the massive thigh still shoved between his legs.
“What for?”
It was actually really funny, just how nonplussed his face looked in that moment. Tony bit back his reaction to laugh, though, knowing how sensitive Steve could be when he thought Tony was laughing at him.
“For sex,” Tony grinned, deliberately pressing his hard-on against the larger man and feeling a little giddy with how much he wanted exactly that, pronto. “What else?”
“We’re both fellas, though,” Steve needlessly pointed out, getting that deep furrow between his brows as a particularly splotchy flush spread over his face -- Tony knew by now that these together were more of an indication of embarrassment than arousal. Uh oh.
It was sometimes a bit of a tightrope walk, maintaining a modern homosexual relationship with a man as complicated as Steve Rogers. Tony was still learning how to navigate his changeable moods and specific triggers, but it was a task he was surprised to find himself more than willing to put up with. It was actually kind of thrilling, the way he was always keeping Tony on his toes.
So that first, clumsy attempt in the locker room hadn’t convinced Steve that condoms were a convenient means of mitigating the messier aspects of assfucking, which in retrospect was Tony’s bad: Steve wasn’t wrong when he'd pointed out that the showers were right there.
Then later that week, when Tony tried again by attempting to argue that condoms were actually “fun,” Steve had gotten a bit petulant when he'd mistakenly jumped to the very erroneous conclusion that Tony didn’t actually like getting pumped full of an unholy amount of hot supersoldier jizz on the regular. On the contrary, it was something he often enjoyed with a zeal that bordered on some kind of perversion… Only, there was a time and place for indulging in what basically amounted to a serious cum-inflation kink, which—in his modest opinion—was best enjoyed in the comfort of an actual bedroom.
Later, ensconced in the privacy of said bedroom, he explained this to Steve. In so much detail. He made sure to be very clear about what he liked and when/where he liked it, ensuring that there would be no doubt as to how sincerely he meant it by encouraging Steve to properly fill him up right there on his oversized bed. Then—just because Steve seemed to really appreciate these sorts of practical demonstrations—Tony made it very clear what occurred afterwards, illustrating this by strutting naked around the bedroom and letting Steve’s jizz drip down between his legs while he continued to elaborate on the pros and cons of letting Steve put him in such a state while out in public. He definitely had Steve’s rapt attention, this time.
Still, he didn’t fully sell his argument until the following weekend, when they’d been out together at that gala all night in their well-tailored formalwear, making eyes at each other in between all the endless schmoozing and sipping from champagne flutes and munching on canapes.
Steve found a little secluded balcony that wasn’t in use, because of course he did. Say what you will about him being a late bloomer; there was no denying that the guy had quite the aptitude for arranging semi-covert assignations at a moment’s notice.
He wasn’t wearing his utility belt, though, which meant that he didn’t have his handy dandy lube tube that he’d taken to carrying around these days. So when Tony caught him trying to spit on his fingers after getting a hand down Tony's pants and squeezing Tony’s ass in a signal he’d come to recognize as Steve’s signature “I wanna fuck you right now” move, he intercepted him just in time to demonstrate the magic of 21st-century lubricated condoms.
Getting to bend Tony over the railing like that and have at him at the drop of his $3000 pants with no prep required—then coming profusely into Tony’s grateful ass without spilling a single drop of superspunk on either of their very nice garments—was something of an eye-opening experience for Steve Rogers.
He could admit, afterwards— as they righted their clothing and kissed like they’d been waiting all night to get their mouths on each other in order to finally breathe properly— that Tony might’ve actually had a point about the “rubbers.”
“They’re fun, aren’t they?” Tony smirked as he smoothed his hands down the fine weave of Steve’s black dinner jacket, continually enamored with the way that all that broadness narrowed down to such a grabbable little waist. “...Anytime, anywhere.”
“Yeah,” Steve agreed, looking at Tony with a fondness that couldn’t possibly have just been about the whole condom thing. Sometimes when Steve looked at him like that, it felt like his insides were melting; like Steve could reduce him to literal goo with just a look. Quite the superpower, that one.
Steve’s eyes did that funny thing where they grew impossibly warmer as he reached to fix Tony’s hair with gentle fingers, telling him, “I think I’m coming around to the idea.”
♡
#stony#steve rogers/tony stark#stony fic#stevetony#steve rogers#tony stark#ficlet#my fanfic#manip#fanart#tony stark bingo round 2#condoms#nsfk#smut#my edit
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On lukola fandom
Here’s some venting about the lukola fandom, and its ways, and consequences, from an ordinary polin, Bridgerton and Luke fan.
Starting from the way Luke’s loved ones and friends are treated by its adherents. Especially his girlfriend. The hate towards her is visceral. The whole phenomenon of bullying and stalking someone just for existing and posting on their SM account from time to time probably needs to be studied by social studies scholars and parasocial relationship specialists, cause it’s new heights apparently.
So, what if she’s proud of Luke as her boyfriend and wants to show it? What if she wants to mark her territory sometimes, to which she has a right btw? What if she trolls haters and delusional IRL shippers occasionally? Hers is probably the most relatable behavior. I myself, as an introvert millennial who doesn’t run one single SM account and cringe from the exhibitionist nature of current SM posting practices, still recognize that there’s nothing unusual about that kind of posting per se. Why was Luke’s former gf, Jade, allowed to post him all the time (which is totally alright btw), but Antonia hinting at having, say, a dinner with Luke is shady, attention-seeking, desperate, needy and despicable?
It's not that I care particularly about her. In fact, I couldn’t care less if she’s replaced by Luke with some other woman in a couple of months or if she is his future wife and mother to his kids. I still believe, regardless of her status in the relationship, she deserves basic respect and decent treatment as a human being that we know pretty much nothing about. She does not deserve the vilification and demonization that she gets.
Luke too, has a right to privacy and respect for his personal choices that are nobody’s business. He owes no one anything in terms of disclosing his dating life and confirming his relationships. If for someone, Luke bringing the girl to almost all his travels and events with himself, is not a proof or statement in and of itself about her being his girlfriend, then that’s on them. No amount of intentional misreading and skewed takes on photos will trump this simple fact.
Also please don’t bring up virtue signaling and other cancel culture stupidities, such as moral judgements passed on Luke and his close ones for political or other values purportedly held by them, of which we in fact know zilch. It’s clear that this is just another useful tool in a shipping crusade.
Nicola too, deserves, for a change, to have her numerous statements taken seriously. Let alone, privacy. She’s being stalked by her so-called fans to insanity. I am sure she, to put it mildly, is uncomfortable about her “queen” and “goddess” status among the cultists, and being a projection vessel for a myriad of sad women. Cause she knows very well this type of passionate idolatry is an inch away from hate, and the plus sign switches to a minus sign the minute she does something not to their liking, a wrong brand or person supported, or not enough disciplining of Luke is exercised. The most delusional thing about lukolas is them truly believing themselves to be Nic’s or Luke’s fans.
Which brings us to the crux of the matter. That IRL shipping is bad, period. Some lukola bloggers on tumblr, TT and IG half-heartedly try to reign in and admonish the more unhinged segment of the fandom by telling them to behave and not bring their bul..t to the actors' feet. However, this is what the lukola discourse platforms, by simply existing, still do - breed crazy fan behavior. Because the problem lies in the belief system itself. No amount of reservations, house-keeping and discipline by lukola discourse 'leaders' will do away with the tenets and premises of this religion that seep through and twist every discussion and speculation about the figures involved (Luke, Nic, etc). Since every reasoning should work towards a certain end goal, all means and distortions are good to achieve it. Finding faults with Luke's character and behavior and demanding a 'redemption' from him, hating and criticizing Luke's friends and family, attributing motivations to the actors and their loved ones that best suit theories, online stalking etc. A myth about Luke ever publicly stating he was single during promo, a ridiculous myth about Bridgerton cast and showrunners shipping lukola (news flash – nobody in the cast cares about their co-stars’ private lives, stop the kindergarten), or the “papgate” affecting in any way Luke’s job prospects. Myths upon myths that build the house of cards of the lukola dogma. I myself wouldn’t care a damn about this fandom if it really contained itself to its close corners and group chats, however, unsurprisingly, they spill over in a grand fashion and permeate all discourse.
You really believe the innocent delulu fangirling has no by-products? These are the staple manifestations of the lukola and of any IRL shipping fandom, and popular lukola theorists are pretty successful in justifying and reinforcing them. And it should not be surprising that some followers, the most zealous and stupid ones, take it too far and actually harass people and be annoying in SM.
As a Luke and polin fan, I am annoyed by this, but I am 100% sure this sh*t is affecting the actors, and you all can kiss goodbye to the chemistry between Luke and Nic naturally displayed during promo. I am sure polin will not be affected, for L and N are excellent actors and friends, but you all soon will look sadly back to S3 promo tour as magic that will never come back.
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interesting but predictable how some of the inherent uncanny valley strangeness of bringing something that exists in the chronically online space into the real world can manifest. I’ve noticed this at all the other tours of theirs as well - some people can have a hard time separating internet behaviors from irl behaviors, and the sudden merging of these compartmentalized ways of being (online vs offline) can be hard to navigate.
I think it can also make people uncomfortable to see their comedic silly billie faves being serious, and there’s a dissonance to seeing them, these characters who live on our screens, along with the audience around you who are typically just avatars and usernames shitposting in lowercase, all suddenly in the same physical room. And suddenly that often completely disparate, scattered, semi-anonymous community needs to adapt to social mores and group norms in a new social context. It’s taking a community with its own set of rules that were designed for and in response to a digital landscape and plonking it into a completely alien environment. And yeah, we’re all humans who exist in public outside of our internet lives, but it’s different when that happens but you’re still in the context of the phandom.
Which I think is what leads to things like shouting out rly profane, out of pocket things during the quieter moments of their shows. because if you comment something like that online, you won’t rly be interrupting anything. you might be ignored, you might get some laughs, maybe you’ll get a notice bc haha unhinged right. Or like treating an evacuation drill as a lol pass the tea yas mommy daniel moment instead of an oh we’re actually here in real life moment.
I went back to my tatinof review bc I remembered writing this - “someone behind me kept screaming at them to "GET NAKED" (particularly during silences in the 7 second challenge) to which everyone in my area responded with claps and laughter.” During my second TIT show, there were people around me who wolf whistled and shouted “kinky” and “ayo ok freaky” during totally inappropriate moments. I remember during Dan’s quieter bits of WAD people could not seem to just stay silent. (I have suffered complete amnesia when it comes to ii so I can’t speak to any part of that experience lol.) after the preshow and during intermission at tit, I heard separate people at separate times making a range of critical comments about Dan and Phil’s bodies in ways that were downright shocking and not how I hope they’d typically feel comfortable speaking about other humans.
I think on the whole, phannies are so lovely and kind to one another. I feel deep gratitude for this community. And I know this isn’t just a phandom thing; I think how we treat one another in public spaces has generally really eroded, and concert etiquette has become abysmally poor. But phandom, as always, is a little unique, because of the sense of mutual understanding and the co-created dynamic between us and d&p. It dissolves the boundaries, so when Dan tells you to shut up, your online brain tells you that’s just a chance to be funny with your fave. When you have a chance to be heard, your online brain provides a memey shitpost joke and your irl self shouts it out even though that ain’t the move in a theatre performance unless invited to do so.
No real conclusion here, just some observations about the rly unique dynamic this all creates!
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Hiiiiii omg your head canons for the fellowship are so cuttteeee I love it. Do you think you could write how the members of the fellowship would be around a character who has a dragon companion? I’m sorry I know that is soooo weird but I literally love dragons so much and Lotr so y’know. Preferably a f reader or just Gn. Sorry if that’s weird and no pressure!!!!🫶🫶
What a fun prompt! I’ve literally thought about this before. I’m picturing you show up at Rivendell just casually with your dragon. Totally breathes fire because that’s cool as shit.
How the Fellowship reacts to a dragon companion
Aragorn:
-Has to do a double take
-wtf
-He’s a chill dude, but this feels unhinged
-He will introduce himself with you only once you’re not with your fire friend
-Once you introduce the two he’s back to his chill self and act like this is totally normal
Legolas:
-Fascinated, and immediately introduces himself to you and your dragon
-Elves have a way with nature and animals so I don’t think he would be scared
-Wary, maybe, but he just wants to pet it
-He sees is as a big puppy
-Will tell you a billion dragon facts
Gimli:
-Listen, dwarves have a bad record with dragons
-Doesn’t trust you, and certainly can’t believe the “beast” could be friendly
-Keeps his distance and is definitely a bit cold to you like he is to Legolas, at first
-He eventually warms up to you but still doesn’t like your companion
-The dragon wouldn’t hurt him, but he doesn’t know that, and the dragon totally takes advantage of that and will scare him
-“I don’t like the way it looks at me”
-Big “it don’t bite, yes it do!” energy
Boromir:
-I just feel like he would not care
-He would be casual about it like the cave troll
-Totally sees the advantage of having a literal fucking dragon on their team
-Talks to it like a person
Frodo:
-You thought his eyes were big before? Well guess what? They are literal saucers
-Mostly knows only of Smaug so he doesn’t have a particularly positive view on the species
-But he’s also nothing if not curious
-Asks you so many questions
-This I think applies to all the hobbits except maybe Sam, but it would be so cute if they cuddled up with the dragon at night to keep warm
Sam:
-Big nope
-He’s heard Bilbo’s stories
-His main priority is keeping Frodo safe
-Probably wouldn’t warm up until he saw Frodo petting it with a big smile
-Would ask if it wants a bowl of stew when you all settle for the night
-Worried it might eat him if he doesn’t keep it fed
Merry:
-Guess what?! You now have a new biggest fan! Congrats!
-No fear in this hobbit
-Maybe that’s not a good thing, but he’s a confident boy
-“Hypothetically how would one go about acquiring such a creature?” “You can’t have a dragon Merry” “…I was asking for a friend”
-Will brag about knowing you and that he’s friends with a dragon when they eventually get back to the shire
Pippin:
-?????
-So confused
-He must have smoked too much and is now hallucinating
-Once he gets over that shock, he’s probably the type to watch from afar, but weary to ask to pet it
-“Do you think we could roast marshmallows with its breath?”
-It’s a genuine question. And yes, the answer is yes
-That is if you like your marshmallows burnt and basically disintegrated
Gandalf:
-He probably invited you to the council
-Wary because he knows what dragons are capable of, but trusts you so therefore he trusts your judgment
-He’s got his eagles, you’ve got your dragon, unstoppable duo
*Bonus Elrond:
-“Um…whatcha got there?” “A smoothie”
-Wouldn’t let you in until Gandalf convinced him
-Then he just decides he’s seen so much shit that he shouldn’t even be surprised anymore by anything
I definitely don’t love all of these answers, some feel ooc, so as always I may edit when I get a different idea. It’s like how my mind will be blank when doing an assignment but the second I submit it I have so many better answers
#boromir#aragorn#legolas#lord of the rings#lotr#lotr fellowship#frodo baggins#gimli son of gloin#lotr preferences#merry and pippin#samwise gamgee#gandalf the grey#elrond#dragon#meriadoc brandybuck#peregrine took#lotr frodo#the lord of the rings#lotr headcanons#lotr x y/n#lotr x you#lotr x reader#the fellowship of the ring#tolkien#gandalf
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What are some of your favorite character relationships/dynamics in TMNT, and why? Is there anything that you particularly like seeing explored with them in fan works (art, writing, comics, etc)?
oh wow!! what a fun ask!!
stashing this under a read-more because i really popped off LOL
My favorite relationships and dynamics??
I feel like i should preface this by admitting that Rise was actually my first real exposure to the TMNT franchise-- and after reading and watching some other iterations it became incredibly apparent how different Rise was in several aspects. And i loved it!!
but with TMNT as a whole, i really love the Leo and Raph dynamics across the TMNT universe (shocking i know lol). It's probably my favorite dynamic of the whole franchise lol. I love love love how they can clash against each other in dramatic ways. And yet, at the end of the day, they would lay down their lives for each other. It's so fun and heartwarming to see that across all the different TMNT iterations.
I also think how Splinter's relationship with the boys can drastically fluctuate between iterations is super interesting. Splinter is such a cool character, and playing with his relationship with the boys has such a crazy big impact on the story and vibe. My favorite Splinters are 2003 and Rise and those two are hilariously different. But something they share is their protectiveness of their families. Which is a dynamic some other iterations turn on its head! And I love that!
And April. GOD i love April so much. The concept of her character is a trope i love. A human who is not just a friend but family with non-humans??? I'm obsessed. And I love that each April of every iteration has her own level of unhinged-ness.
Honestly I could probably write a thesis on each character but I'll try to keep it short lol. But something I really love???
The TMNT franchise itself isn't afraid to experiment with its own iconic relationships or story beats.
It doesn't take itself too seriously while putting a lot of thought and care into the wild, different storylines or concepts. What I might think is an iconic relationship/dynamic in TMNT might be different than someone else's-- and that's fun! The level of flexibility and boldness for trying different things for dynamics and relationships is something I really adore about TMNT as a franchise.
There are tropes and dynamics that are totally my favorite. But I also love seeing those things experimented with!!! But I had to absolutely pick something, it would be all the dynamics seen in Rise. I just love it so much!!
And fan works??
as for what I like seeing being explored in fan works, i gotta say--
I LOVE IT ALL AHHHH!!!❤️💞💗💖💕❤️💞💗💖
TMNT is such a fun and unusual IP, and i totally enjoy seeing other fans going wild with their own creative ideas. I love seeing people pop off with whatever their hearts desire. Anything from the iconic tropes to the niche, hyper-specific concepts-- I love it all. Because there is so much to explore with these characters. And I adore seeing people having fun with their ideas. It's hard to answer what my 'favorite' things to see are because I'm greedy for ALL of it! Because seeing all the different experiments with my favorite dynamics and relationships is so incredibly refreshing and exciting!!
I love seeing people play with each brother's relationship with one another. I love seeing the different takes on Splinter and his role as a father figure (or lack of). I love seeing the potential early-days of Rise-April's relationship with the boys as kids. I love every possible take on every possible character. I will always be a sucker for the juicy story tropes. But I'm just as ravenous for the off-the-cuff twists and concepts. I love any and all of it. Because it's so fun to see what people can cook up-- especially when it's a setup that you never would've thought of before but gave you a new perspective!!!
Because at the end of the day, TMNT is-- frankly-- a silly franchise. And it knows it! But it's not afraid to put in the serious moments and emotions that make all the dynamics interesting. And it's not afraid to experiment with its own building blocks. And I love that fans aren't afraid to push the unexpected in fan works, or do a deeper dive of the dynamics and relationships we've seen in different iterations.
This turned more into a love letter for all TMNT and TMNT fans rather than what my favorite parts are, but it's still all true! I am constantly collecting my favorite dynamics and tropes and putting them in my mental shelf of favorite things. While there are classics I'll always love no matter what, some days the flavor changes!!! And I love that TMNT both as a franchise and as a fandom is so diverse when experimenting with these characters!!
So, in a way this is me saying keep having fun creating and experimenting--because not only does it make me happy, but I hope it makes you happy too 🩵
#sorry bestie kind off went off of this one lol#thanks for coming to my ted talk lol#'whats your favorite dynamic and relationships?' Yes To All#pastel prattling#non neon void related#blasting you all with my heart beam btw#💖💗💕❤️💞🩵💗💖🩵💕🩵💞
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