#i can NOT decide on one single format for these posts
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New Mature Content Warning Overlay (And How to Get Rid of It)
More fun community label "features"! Unlike the new mandatory label for #NSFW, this one is a bigger deal to me because it affects my entire blog and it can't be avoided by just using a different tag.
Apparently on custom blog layouts, if you happen to post or reblog even a SINGLE post that's been flagged with the mature content community label, a full-page warning overlay will appear blurring out your entire blog that must be manually clicked through every single time the page is refreshed. At first I thought this was just a bug due to my older layout but I've come to realize it's not. It's a feature (as confirmed by this recent changes post) that affects all custom themes. The formatting will vary based on your own theme but here's what it looks like on my blog:
I don't know about you but I find this is stupid and annoying. If it could be dismissed once and never seen again that might be one thing, but that's not the case. The vast majority of my blog is not "mature" enough to warrant such an aggressive and invasive warning. I also think pop-ups are obnoxious in general and I'll be damned if tumblr's going to force me to have one on MY blog.
After some desperate googling for a known workaround and being unable to find even a single mention of it, I decided to take on the challenge myself. I'm not a theme coder, so apologies if there's a better way to do this, but luckily it only took me like 10 minutes to figure out a simple fix, which I'm now sharing with anyone else who may want it:
.community-label-cover__wrapper {display: none}
Just copypaste that somewhere in your CSS and goodbye pop-up!
If you're not sure how to access your theme code, check out this help article. You can also add the code via the Advanced Options menu, which is actually even better (if you can get it to work, it depends on how your theme was coded), because it will then automatically be reapplied to a lot of themes without having to remember to manually add it every time if you change your theme in the future.
Obviously this will only remove it from your own blog for anyone who may visit it. If you never want to see this warning again on other people's blogs you can also add this custom filter to your ad block:
tumblr.com##.community-label-cover__wrapper
Unfortunately I do not have an easy tutorial on hand for this one as the method will depend on your specific ad block app or extension.
Some additional notes:
After adding the theme code and saving the changes, give it a minute to update as it sometimes takes a little while for the page to refresh.
The warning overlay only seems to appear if a "mature" post is on the FIRST page of your blog, which is still annoying and makes the whole thing even more pointless and stupid because what if someone visits any other page of your blog, and oh no, happens to see "mature" content they weren't warned about?!
The warning also appears on direct links to "mature" posts.
This hack has NOTHING to do with entire blogs that have been flagged as NSFW. It only works for non-flagged blogs with custom themes that happen to have individual "mature" posts.
#I'm not letting my entire blog be penalized for a couple rare singular posts that may or may not even be 'mature' enough to warrant it#tumblr may force us to use community labels#and they may have full control over the new blogview#but MY custom blog layout has always been and always will be MINE to format and present however I want#that's the whole point#tumblr#psa#tutorial#my words#tumblr themes#wendy's help desk
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The Midi-chlorian essay only a few asked
(or, How Is Anakin Skywalker a walking biological horror)
So I made this post and a few were actually interested, also i needed to write down all of this or I wouldn't be able to sleep.
The way I went just from "hahaha they're just mitochondria before becoming forced symbionts and losing all autonomy" to the Medical Horror that would be Anakin Skywalker .
Let me explain, going from this theory, let me tell you that the average mammal cell can have between 800 to 2000 mitochondria. In Star Wars we're told that the average living being, has 2500 midi-chlorians per cell. The difference isn't that big, so we can assume that mid-chlorians are smaller than our real-life mitochondria, and it would make sense since the mitochondria have the best possible living conditions, whereas midi-chlorians, if they're free-life bacteria (as in, they aren't forced to live in the cells of another being) it would make sense if they're just smaller, let's say, sneaky, to increment their chances at living.
So Midi-chlroains don't just produce ATP, Force sensitives have a minimum of 4000-5000 midi-chlorians per cell. That's...a big number, but not very horrific. See, the amount of mitochondria is related to how much energy the organic tissue requires. The cells of muscular tissue and neurons are the ones with the highest mitochondria count. Also the mitochondria in the neurons are mobile and flexible, because just thinking burns ATP.
We can assume that using The Force burns insane amounts of ATP, so I assume it makes sense for Force Sensitives to have big amounts of Midi-chlorians. But! The problem with this is that we're told that the Midi-chlorians are attracted to the force, not born within it. But any multicelullar organism (with a few exceptions) need the mitochondria. Mitochondria have their own ADN, and they're always inherited from the mother, so we can assume that there's two different types of midi-chlorians: The ones any normal being borns with, and the ones that get attracted because of the baby's force potential. Either that, or both the mithocondria and the midi-chlorians exist simultaneously.
Which means that Jedi (or anyone who wants to know, really) would need to take several blood tests for midi-chlorians count. Because a newborns midi-chlorian count wouldn't be the same through a babie's infancy. UNLESS...The midi-chlorian infection (yes, i'm calling it that) ocurrs already since the pregnancy, if the force is strong enough for a fetus to be a possible force sensitive in the future, then I guess the midi-chlorians would get attracted to the parent during the pregnancy as well.
WHICH BTW, IT FITS WITH PADMÉ BECOMING FORCE SENSITIVE, at least for a while, like the discarded ROTS concepts. But also, would mean, that poor Shmi became a hella strong force-sensitive person as well, at least for a while.
And it would be a biological advantage if we take this route, because it would possibly make the pregnant being stronger and with a higher supply of energy.
It also explains why the jedi would only take a single blood test when the force sensitive is just a baby, because the infection is already settled. It can also be argued, that any baby born with a fairly high amount of midi-chlorians (like the 4000 per cell count minimum) would only increase, if only slightly, as the force sensitive grows because the midi-chlorians will get attracted regardless.
There must be a limit, or more like, a balance, that the midi-chlorian and the force potential of the individual met. As in, there's just enough force within the individual for a certain number of midi-chlorian, and all of this is probably decided already during the fetus formation or very early on the baby's life.
Now, Anakin...would be an abomination. Because his cells are so full of midi-chlorians, that it's scary to think how the cells aren't exploding or downright giving malfunctions to the rest of the cellular organelles.
If we go by the route of "midi-chlorians start infecting the force sensitive host mother during pregnancy" it means there were high chances of a misscarriage or an incompatibility between Shmi and Anakin, because holy cow, Anakin is just too much.
But you know what also, it could potentially mean? That Padmé's pregnancy was a risky one, fron the start -slowly nods-. Luke and Leia's force potential was lower than Anakin's, but there's still a lot to unpack there in terms of compatibility. We are never given the exact count of midichlorian count for the twins, but let's pretend it was low enough for Padmé to not inmediatly have a miscarriage. That, and also, maybe, Padmé isn't strong in the force to manipulate it, but maybe just close enough for the pregnancy to be carried to term, let's say, her midi-chlorian count is 3900, close enough.
Something similar with Shmi, I'm taking for granted that she also had a difficult and risky pregnancy (on top of it being a pregnancy she had no agency). It becomes worse because, unlike the twins, Anakin is just...50% human. The only possible genes Anakin has are from Shmi. So he's probably...genetically, almost a clone of Shmi but with a massive infection of Midi-chlorians (yes, this implies that Anakin has homogametic sex chromosomes, aka XX, there's no other possible explanation because he literally only has Shmi's genes to work with!).
But he's Space Jesus, though,so let's pretend that the "no father genes" helped with this and allowed Anakin to grow into a...normal-ish baby despite it all.
Midi-chlorians must be extremelly small, closer to the size of a virus in this case, viruses vary on size and the way they infect the cells is by hijacking the nucleus, which then can produce more viruses instead of its own proteins. This can vary anywhere between a production of 50.000 to 100.000 viruses produced by infected cells.
Which, btw, still fits somewhat with the mitochondria theory, because mitochondrias are believed to have been from a genus of bacteria called Rickettsia, which used to be believed to be the in-between of Viruses and Bacteria due their small size and extreme endosymbiotism.
Still, we aren't even told how many midi-chlorians Anakin had, just that it was over 20.000 and thus the chart couldn't even register it. Even if we're just counting 21.000 midi-chlorians per cell, that's...a lot. Even if the relationship is symbiotic and positive in nature, that's excessive, an infected cell will usually die faster. So Anakin's cellular death must be on record time.
The life span of a cell varies highly depending of the type of cells, white cells can live about 2 days, others about 5, and then there's others that live about 6 years in average.
Forget all of that, Anakin's cells die anywhere between a few hours and a week. Which also means a super fast regeneration and healing (Hey! that tracks, that's how he didn't die even though he should have, on several ocassions).
But that's not the only problem here, the production of energy is strong with this one, too strong. Again this should make the cells burst due too much ATP because of an increase on osmotic pressure. Anakin is producing so much damn ATP (which we can assume it becomes glycogen stored in muscles and fat tissue) his need to be active and just doing something skyrockets, he might as well be the equivalent of being high on meth since birth.
The accelerated cellular formation and death, gives me the horrific idea that Anakin was probably one of these babies that are born premature, but also that he probably was bron with, idk, teeth and already lots of hair. Maybe that's also why he got so tall of all sudden, lots of cellular grow, huh.
Anakin seems to age normally by what are we given by canon. So despite it all, his life-span or aging doesn't seem to be compromised, this is probably because of how strong he is with the Force. In the sense that...he needs the midi-chlorians to handle this much power, but he also needs the force to handle with that many midi-chlorians, otherwise he would have been already born dead.
See, ageing has a lot to do with stem cells. Anakin's stem cells need to be highly prolific and potent to keep cellular division happening at such a high rate, we can infer that any force sensitive has potent stem cells, so the force must inherently affect stem cells. So Anakin's stem cells must be monstruosities in efficiency. If Anakin donated stem cells to someone else, that person would either have a strong inhumne reaction against them or they would get some of the worst cancer ever seen. Again I'm no expert, but the fact Anakin doesn't develop cancer at all as soon as he was born is already impressive. The rate in which Anakin's cells die must be ridiculous, even has a baby, he must have required tons of energy and endure lots of stress which...tracks. The fact he gets electroshocked, burned, gravely wounded or whatever every week or so, must help him to no develop some cancer, which is a bit funny.
But it would also mean he can go long periods of time without eating or resting like...a normal human. Not saying that he doesn't need it, though, but his neural activity and use of the force must be high at all times to burn out that much energy. Theoretically, the production of glycose and glycogen helps him through long periods without sleep or food so he doesn't get long-term damage, or at the very least the ability to keep going, like I said, maybe is like being on drugs all the time; there's still the need to sleep and eat, but he can push his body to keep surviving beyond what's considered normal without having long-term damage. (Don't get happy, this isn't taking into account all of the stuff that happens to him, lol)
The balance between burning too much energy and not burning enough must be insane as well. As Vader, a lot of this probably watered down because all of his energy must be saved for...you know, surviving all the torture. But as a young teen/man amist war? Oh boy.
I'm not an expert, but I'm theorizing that putting Anakin in an induced sleeep must be...fricking hard. Painkillers that work on him? fricking hard. Anesthesia? Probably the same used for big animals, he must be insane and awful for a doctor to work with! Just imagine it, he probably gets injured in such a way that would have anyone else fall unconscious, but Anakin remains awake and with tremendous amounts of adrenaline triggered by a stress response sustented by the extreme amounts of energy that the midichlorians produce.
When it happens in the central nervious system, excess of ATP can produce neuronal dysfunction. In fact, many degenerative mental illnesses have a lot to do with a malfunction of the mitochondrias. There's a corelation also with neurodivergency sometimes, like autism or ADHD. I will leave it there.
And with all of this...I also conclude that Anakin, on general basis, doesn't like sugary things and doesn't even rationalize why, but is because he has already enough glycose. Having something sugary probably gives him a headache.
God what has Star Wars done to me.
#anakin skywalker#midichlorians#star wars#prequel trilogy#shmi skywalker#rambling#silly posting#cw pregnancy#padme amidala#because the mitocondria is inherited by the motherly genes and therefore the midichlorians too and Luke and Leia are strong in the force#this implies that Anakin is trans good night#rhea dissects the text
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our little secret | CL16
charles x female!reader / smau fic
this was a request so thank you anon for providing the idea, i changed some of the detailing ever slightly to fit it more into the social media format but overall i followed the request so i hope i did it justice!
as a bit of a background: you and charles have been together for a few years now, but nobody knows because they’ve kept their relationship secret from the f1 community and private from anyone who follows you. everything is going great until photos of you and charles on vacation get leaked. normally you’d deny it or ignore it but it was very obviously charles in the pictures which cause fans to go crazy, wanting to know everything ultimately resulting in you and charles deciding to go public and hoping for the best. oh and the request included having other drivers on the grid having gone through recent breakups which was another reason charles liked that your relationship was private.
warnings: none, just pure fluff and charles being a simp for his girlfriend !!
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yourusername posted on their instagram
yourbestfriend, yoursister, user23 & others liked
life recently ⭐️🫶🌸
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user1: y/n i still cant believe we haven’t figured out who your partner is, its been atleast a couple years
user2: at this point, i don’t even care who it is, as long as she’s happy
yoursister: awe the flowers, he’s the sweetest
╰ yourusername: i know !
user22: one day we’ll find out…i hope
╰ user17: we can only hope
yourbestfriend: i love that youre happy but i don’t enjoy third wheeling, does he have any single friends he can atleast bring along 🥲
╰ yourusername: sorry..pretty sure all his close friends are in relationships 🫣
charles_leclerc posted on their instagram
f1fan, pierregasly, landonorris, fanofleclerc & others liked
who do i give these flowers too
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fanofleclerc: YOU CAN GIVE THEM TO ME
f1fan: ILL TAKE THEM OFF YOUR HANDS CHARLES
user30: how is this man single ???? he’s so boyfriendcoded
landonorris: i’d prefer literally anything else but i guess you can give them to me
╰ charles_leclerc: ill pass
f1: we’ll take them for you charles, im sure someone in the paddock would like them
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yourusername posted on their story
caption: he loves me i swear..😉
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charles_leclerc posted on their instagram
pierregasly, landonorris, f1, f1fan, charlesleclercfan_ & others liked
enjoying the sun whenever i can
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fanofcharles: hes so beautiful wow
charlesleclercfan_: imagine running into charles leclerc while he’s shirtless? id pass away
pierregasly: photo creds would be nice..
╰ charles_leclerc: you didn’t take the photo ?
╰ pierregasly: yes but i was behind the camera offering support, its basically the same thing
f1fan: pierre and charles’ friendship is top tier
╰ liked by f1
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yourusername posted on their instagram
yoursister, yourbestfriend, user20 & others liked
me and everyone’s favourite man hit the town 🍸
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yourbestfriend: its giving old money, i love it
╰ liked by yourusername
user20: im sure whoever he is, is a gorgeous man
user12: i may not know who he is but i aspire for these vibes
yoursister: the hand placement is everything
╰ liked by yourusername & yourbestfriend
user44: whoever he is, he was raised right, that hand placement says everything and him holding y/n’s heels, god has favourites
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charles_leclerc posted on instagram
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hikes at sunset >
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charlesleclercfan_: omg charles
charlesleclercfan_: i think my heart just stopped
f1fan: he knows what he’s doing, he has to
user33: brb finding the strength cause this photo makes me weak
user2: he looks so happy
yourusername posted on their instagram
yourbestfriend, user22, user14, user7 & others liked
my two favourite people 🫶
tagged: @yourbestfriend
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user2: mystery man once again
user14: the way they go on runs together
yourbestfriend: the only time i’ll gladly be a third wheel..i love a good walk/run at sunset
╰ yourusername: i know how much you love your sunset runs
user12: couples that run together, stay together
╰ liked by yourusername
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yourusername posted on their story
caption: my whole 🌎
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yourbestfriend posted on their story
caption: i once again find myself third wheeling..@yourusername
╰ yourusername: atleast you could walk away when you wanted..
╰ yourbestfriend: not the point..but tell charles thank you for paying for me aswell
╰ yourusername: will do 😅
charles_leclerc posted on their story
caption: enjoying some local art before racing starts again
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yourusername posted on their instagram
yoursister, yourbestfriend, user3, user15 & others liked
gonna miss watching the sunrise in the morning and the sunset in the evening with you 🥺
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user3: wait where is he going
user23: awe, i hope everything’s okay and they haven’t broken up
╰ user4: i think mystery man has to leave, but they’re still together
yourbestfriend: mom and dad..fr
╰ liked by yourusername
user44: wherever mystery man has to go, i hope he comes back soon
“Merci mon amour” You smiled as he situated himself next to you in bed. Having been dating now for almost 3 years, you had picked up on french terms and were able to have small conversations only speaking French with Charles
“I posted you on instagram” you told him as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders pulling you closer into him but being careful not to spill the drink in your hands
“Oh what did you post? My phones charging” he explained as you unlocked your phone and showed him the post you made for him “You’re now being referred to as mystery man” you chuckled.
Out of all the names people had given him throughout the years, this was definitely your favourite. Charles also chuckled when he heard the name that was given to him
“Can I ask you something?” Charles asked after a few seconds of comfortable silence passed between the two of you
“Of course, what’s up?” you asked after taking a small sip of your tea “Do you ever think about going public with our relationship?” He followed up
You turned to face him fully “Of course, mon amour but we both agreed it was better this way” You reiterated the promise you made early on in your relationship
“I know but I hate that I cant comment on your posts or even post you myself” he sighed “I want to keep you safe but I also want the whole world to know you’re mine and I’m yours” he finished.
“I know it’s not fair” you exclaimed while running your fingers through his hair, something you did for him when he was stressed or feeling anxious “I love you all the time though regardless if you post me or not you know that. Right?” You asked him
“Of course I do” he told you in response closing his eyes feeling relaxed “One day we’ll go public. Im making you that promise” he told you opening his eyes again
You smiled at him “Sounds like a beautiful promise” you responded, leaning in to kiss his cheek “As much as I would love to spend the rest of the night talking with you, you have to be at the airport early tomorrow” you reminded him as you stopped playing with his hair, to turn and put your mug on the bedside table next to your side of the bed, Charles putting his own mug on the table next to his side
“Im gonna miss you” he told you when you were both situated in bed, the only source of light coming from the evening sky outside “Not as much as I’m gonna miss you” you told him, snuggling into his side while his arm pulled you closer to him.
Even if you had been dating for awhile, the start of the race season was always a struggle, neither of you wanting to be apart for long periods of time but it was moments like these that you held close and savoured until the next time you could be this close again.
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yourusername posted on their story
caption: my happy place 🎨
╰ charles_leclerc: babe i miss you already and its only been a few days
╰ yourusername: i know but soon you’ll be busy with media events, qualifying, racing and the time will go by quicker, i promise my love
╰ charles_leclerc: facetime tonight so i can see your beautiful face ?
╰ yourusername: of course ❤️
yourusername posted on their story
caption: now whose third wheeling..😠 @yourbestfriend
╰ yourbestfriend: oh hush up, this was only one time compared to how many times i third wheeled you and driver boy
╰ yourusername: okay fair point…also driver boy? wait till i tell charles that one 😂
more replies..
╰ charles_leclerc: omg since when did y/bf/n get a boyfriend? i want all the details
╰ yourusername: i’ll tell you everything on our facetime call, its a pretty cute story of how they met
╰ charles_leclerc: okay but not as cute as when we met? right?
╰ yourusername: oh never, we have the ultimate cutest first meet story 🤭
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charles_leclerc posted on their instagram
f1, carlossainz55, scuderiaferrari, landonorris & others liked
feels good to be back 🏎️
tagged: @scuderiaferrari
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scuderiaferrari: looking forward to a great season !
╰ liked by charles_leclerc
f1fan: HE LOOKS SO WELL RESTED AND HAPPY, FERRARI YOU BETTER DO CHARLES JUSTICE THIS SEASON
f1: as if we weren’t already excited for the new season !!
╰ liked by charles_leclerc
charlesleclercfan_: IM SO EXCITED
charlesleclercupdates: THIS IS HIS SEASON, I CAN ALREADY FEEL IT
Charles was standing with the other drivers, whenever the new season started they always had to do a bunch of media and although some drivers may hate how childish some of the antics were, overall it’s always a nice time getting to be in the same place as everyone and not be competing for once.
Charles turned to George and Pierre who were in conversation with Carlos and Lando. Somehow they had gotten on the topics of relationships, Lando having told everyone that the girl he was seeing at the end of the previous season before the break, wasn’t in the picture anymore.
“Aw mate I’m sorry” Charles told him “Its okay, we weren’t anything serious” Lando told him, seeming to be completely fine with the outcome. “Carlos how are you and your lady?” Lando asked Carlos taking the attention off of him
“Ehh, its alright” Charles’ teammate answered the question directed at him “We barely talk and now with racing starting, I don’t see her sticking around much longer” he explained his current situation.
To Charles it seemed as though everyone who had been relationships or atleast talking to someone, now had no one which made him a feel a bit guilty as he had been in a 2 year long relationship that none of them knew of.
Later in the day, the guilt in Charles stomach only grew when he somehow found out 3 more drivers on the grids long term relationships had ended. He was feeling unnerved because it seemed as if there was some sort of relationship ruiner going through the paddock and he didn’t want to be the next victim.
That night, he called you up, for a moment forgetting about the time change but remembering its only a small change. You answered after a few rings, you had your painting scrubs on indicating you had been working on a new piece of art
“Hi mon amour” you exclaimed happy to see your boyfriend “I was just in the middle of painting, let me just take my scrubs off so I can move to the couch” You explained, Charles nodded his head acknowledging you
“Okay tell me how everything went today, I want to hear it all” you started talking again once you were situated on your couch. Charles started telling you about his day making sure to include what he learned about his fellow racers, which only caused you both to feel content keeping your relationship to yourselves.
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yourusername posted on their instagram
caption: disconnecting to enjoy the serenity of camping 🏕️
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f1updates posted on their instagram
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old photos of charles leclerc with an unknown female leaked. reports say this was last year during the summer break, which brings up the questions of who is she? were they dating here? if yes, are they still dating? everyone wants to know.
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charlesleclerc_updates posted on their instagram
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more leaked photos of charles with this mystery woman. who is she? i know im not the only one dying to know
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user11: OH MY
f1fan: CHARLES MY DUDE WHAT IS THIS
f1updates: does anyone have any idea on who she is
╰ user15: no clue
user3: she’s pretty from what ive seen
user22: i need to know everything
ferrarifan: what i would give to have been a fly on the wall when charles found out these got leaked
Charles was resting in his drivers room. He was trying to mediate which meant he had his phone silenced. This was something you started doing with him when he would get in his head about racing and it helped him regain his focus especially during the moments when he was to hard on himself.
He had been in here for probably 30 minutes before there was a rapid knock on the door “Charles, its Carlos can I come in?” his teammate asked from the other side
“Yeah” Charles answered. Carlos opened the door and stepped into the room “Have you been on instagram?” Carlos asked holding his phone in his hand
“No why?” Charles was confused, what was so important on there that had Carlos wondering of his activity on the app “You should see this” Carlos told him while passing him his opened phone.
When Charles looked down and saw what he saw, he felt his heart stop. There you and him were on his boat, last summer. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He scrolled through his tagged and it was flooded with the same pictures posted by various accounts
“This isn’t good” he mumbled to himself as he passed Carlos his phone back so he could pick up his own phone. He went to go text you immediately when he remembered you had told him, you and your best friend were going camping for a few days which meant you wouldn’t have reception until you got back home.
He opted to still text you something rather than nothing, that way you would see his message once you turned your phone back on and would give him a call.
“Can I ask who she is?” Carlos asked after a few moments of silence “Shes my girlfriend. We’ve been together now for almost 3 years” Charles answered his friends question, figuring the secret was out now and there was no point in lying.
“Oh wow, you’ve kept this going for that long and its just now coming to light. Thats impressive” Carlos told him
“Yeah we decided early on to keep it between us” Charles sighed “We were planning on going public eventually but I guess the public beat us to it”
Carlos just gave his teammate a sympathetic nod, there wasn’t anything he could say in the moment but he could still be there for his friend.
A few days after this, when you were on the drive back to your place, you turned your phone back on, having a few texts from Charles. One that stood out, read ‘Babe give me a call when you can. I have to talk to you about something’ the text from Charles read.
You weren’t sure what this could be about so you didn’t wait to dial his number once you were in the comfort of your apartment. After a few rings, Charles answered, asking you how camping was and catching up before moving on to talk about what happened while you were offline.
That night you and Charles had a long conversation on what you both wanted to do in this situation and after some back and forth, finally came to a decision regarding your relationship that you both hoped you wouldn’t regret down the line.
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yourusername posted on their story
caption: he’s back ♥️
╰ yourbestfriend: happy anniversary to you two:)
charles_leclerc posted on their story
caption: when she makes you breakfast 😍
╰ maxverstappen1: WAIT ‘SHE’ ??
╰ carlossainz55: AW
╰ landonorris: soft launch?
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yourusername posted on their instagram
yourbestfriend, charles_leclerc, landonorris, pierregasly & others liked
i guess after 3 years, my mystery man isn’t a mystery anymore.
happy 3 years mon amour 😘
tagged: @charles_leclerc
comments have been limited
charles_leclerc: i love our love
charles_leclerc: 3 years into it, a lifetime to go
╰ liked by yourusername
yourbestfriend: so happy for you both 🥹
╰ liked by yourusername
pierregasly: oh wait this is actually cute
╰ landonorris: agreed !!!!
charles_leclerc posted on their instagram
yourusername, yourbestfriend, f1, landonorris, maxverstappen1 & others liked
hard launching because i’ve wanted to post my girl since i met her
joyeux anniversaire, ma chérie 💌
tagged: @yourusername
comments have been limited
yourusername: i love you
yourusername: falling asleep on you > falling asleep on the bed
╰ liked by charles_leclerc
f1: we’re happy for you:)
maxverstappen1: 3 YEARS? WOW
maxverstappen1: happy for you dude
carlossainz55: bring her to the races so we can all meet her !!
╰ liked by yourusername & charles_leclerc
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i hope you enjoyed this one. im trying to get more into including actual pieces of writing so hopefully for this one, everything made sense. as always feel free to leave any comments or you can make your own request, up to you! ♥️
#ssprayberrythings x formula one#charles leclerc#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x reader#f1 smau#f1 x reader#f1#f1 imagine#charles x smau#formula one#imagines#x reader
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semester success. ᥫ᭡
[ 3 chapter mini series ] | chapter one
in this series, i’m going to teach you all my helpful tips and tricks on how to succeed in the new semester in just 3 quick chapters! get ready to take notes, we’re diving right in!
chapter two — MASTERING NOTE-TAKING
in the last chapter, we talked about the first week and how to prepare for it! now, we’re going to get real into it and talk about one of the most important skills that can help increase your level of success throughout the semester: taking notes.
class is in session …
୨ৎ — physical or digital
let’s first decide how we’re going to take notes. if you’re the classic/traditional type, a notebook & some pens/pencils & highlighters are the way to go! but if you’re feeling a bit more modernized, grab your laptop and/or tablet!
i personally use my ipad to take notes! i know lots of people who use Notion, create digital documents for their notes, utilize GoodNotes/Notably, and i use this app called CollaNote (more on this later)! if you’re note-taking digitally, find an app or format that works best for you! you can play around with the different apps and tools on your device! digital note-taking also allows for more creativity, in my opinion, but i’ve seen loads of students get really creative with traditional styled notes!
digital note-taking inspo:
i highly recommend this post by @glowettee if you want a quick, but detailed list of how to get set up for digital note-taking!
physical note-taking inspo:
୨ৎ — note-taking methods
there’s lots of ways to take notes! that’s the beauty of note-taking, there’s no one right way of doing so or any wrong way of doing so! there’s a variety of ways to take notes, so find and play around with what works best for you!
different methods:
quick notes - the unaesthetic version
you’ll see lots of people say that they rewrite their notes, and i’m one of those people! i typically don’t take notes during lectures (mainly because my ADD doesn’t allow me to lol) but when i’m actually able to take some notes, my in-class writing is just plain bullet points and words scrambled onto my page.
i see “quick notes” as a way of making sure you get all the key points from the lecture without the stress of writing everything else down.
here’s how:
don’t focus on writing every single thing down! this will make you lose track of what the professor might be saying in addition to what’s in the textbook/lecture slides.
focus on the key points! keep an ear out for your professor and if they say something like “this will be on the exam” or “this is really important to know”. those are the things that need to be written down!
remember: you can always go back and rewrite your notes! having just the key points written down will help you 1. stay focused during class and 2. be prepared for what to focus on during your studies.
don’t worry about your notes looking bland or messy, again, you can go back and rewrite your notes to make it look nice and add additional information! this “quick notes” method is for people who are like me and struggle with taking notes during lectures!
** tina’s tip: record the lecture! if you’re able to have your phone out or if your computer/tablet has a recording feature, use it to record the lecture so that when you do go back to rewrite your notes you don’t forget any other important points!
mind-mapping - an organized flow chart
how it works:
start with your central idea or main topic you want to focus on! have this be the center of your mind-map.
when info regarding this topic starts to come up, write them down and connect that additional information with the central idea using lines and arrows.
get creative! use different colors and add images or symbols!
mind-maps are a great way to organize and visualize the information you need to do into a creative diagram! this is a great method for those visual learners!
boxing method - compartmentalizing notes
this method is another great one for visual learners as it allows you to create a chart for yourself and all that you’re learning in class!
how it works:
start by dividing up your page so that you have different boxes set out for you!
include headings/titles for each box and have them relate to each topic you’re learning.
in those boxes, write down key points from each topic and include any and all information as you can!
you can also connect the boxes with lines and arrows to see how all that information flows together and relates to one another!
i suggest going onto @nenelonomh ‘s blog and reviewing her study corner where there’s a section dedicated to different note-taking methods! as well as other helpful academic advice!
୨ৎ — record your lectures
i mentioned this earlier, but i just want to reiterate this point! recording lectures will help you so much with note-taking as it allows you to go back to what was said in class and continue taking notes that way. it’s extremely helpful especially when your teacher/professor is a fast talker and you can’t keep up with note-taking in class!
୨ৎ — color coding
an easy way to make your notes more appealing to you is by color coding everything! feel free to pick your favorite colors and use those!
what to color code:
key points
important vocab/terms
connecting topics
additional notes from your teacher/professor
୨ৎ — CollaNote
i promise this is entirely unsponsored, but i do love this app! it’s completely free (with in-app purchases if you want to unlock other templates)!
it comes with a variety of free tools, pen styles, highlighters, colors for those writing tools (which are also entirely customizable!), page templates, recording feature, and so much more that i can’t fully remember off the top of my head!
it also allows you to organize everything into folders which is really, really nice! organization of your notes is also super important when it comes to note-taking! so let’s get into organization!
୨ৎ — note organization
if you’re taking notes in the traditional way, make sure you have designated notebooks for each class. if you’re using a binder that includes all of your classes, make sure you have those divider tabs to prevent from any of your notes integrating with your other ones!
for digital notes, make sure you have folders or an organized list of links for each of your courses! it’s important that your files are titled accordingly so that there’s less confusion when you need to go back to any of your notes!
going back to note-taking methods, make sure when you’re writing your notes that you stay consistent with your organization!
write your topics in chronological order
create sections for different bits of information
color code
you don’t want your notes to be a jumbled mess! not having some kind of organization system can lead to confusion while studying or unclear information on the topics you’re learning.
before you’re dismissed …
note-taking, as i mentioned at the beginning, is one of the most important skills to have while in school. you want to make sure you have effective notes that will help you understand the material and help you study for upcoming quizzes/exams! just imagine yourself as the main character in a show or movie and think of yourself as this studious and amazing person while taking notes and sitting through lectures! romanticize your academic career!
with lots of love, faustina 🌷
#milkoomis#girlblogger#girlblogging#it girl#that girl#becoming that girl#becoming her#it girl tips#studyblr#study tips#study productivity#study movitation#note taking#study notes#school tips#school motivation#light academia#dark academia#academia aesthetic#academic motivation#self improvement tips#self improvement
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so i've been seeing this occasionally in the tags lately and i thought i'd bring up:
if you want someone to click or reblog your fic link you cannot simply post a link to the fic with either no description or a single sentence of description. if you do not put something beyond a link and a sentence, no one is going to click it.
part of this is basic internet safety (don't click links if you don't know where they're supposed to go), but a large part of this is that you have to catch someone's attention to make them click and leave the page they're on! people, in general, aren't going to click a link that doesn't interest them. you should interest them! so, how do you do that?
put some kind of image above your link in your post. this is BY FAR the most certain way to get reblogs and catch people's eye, but it's also the most time-consuming if you aren't already good at edits or art yourself. moodboards, little edited headers, or gifs can help you here (depending on fandom). art you've made yourself or have permission to use is absolutely the best option here, but it's by far the most time-intensive and difficult. full disclosure: i don't do this! that's because i am absolutely pants as a visual artist, even in the realm of editing or selecting gifsets. but if you have this skill and are sad your fics aren't getting attention on tumblr, this could be a potential answer!
write a summary and some kind of note with the link. there's a slightly cluttered cheat way to do this later in the list, but personally i find that formatting your fic post yourself is the best way to make these posts look good. i normally go fic link (making sure the link embed has the title) - summary of fic beneath that in a blockquote - an author's note about what to expect beneath that summary. however, everyone has different standards for how to do this! some people i know like to make sure tags and rating are present; some do not. some put some of this information beneath a cut; some do not. the main key here is to make sure there's just enough information above the cut in the main post that if i, a stranger, am browsing the tag and find your fic, i have enough information to know if it's something i might be interested in! i can always click to see the ao3 tags if i am intrigued, so it doesn't need to be all the information. just enough to catch my eye!
just post the whole fic to tumblr, including a link at the top or bottom. this is the most efficient non-art way to get notes on a fic you post, since, unlike a link with a description, a tumblr user doesn't have to leave the website to read and decide if they're interested or like it enough to reblog. however, there are two downsides. the first is that the fic almost always has to be short (~2k words if you use a cut, less if you don't), since most tumblr users aren't using the website expecting to read a bunch. the second is that doing this will mean most of your fic's readers likely will read it from tumblr, rather than following the fic to ao3. which, you may not care! i certainly don't when it comes to the ficlets i write directly to tumblr. however, it means i really don't recommend doing this with a multichapter fic.
use ao3's share button to automatically make a tumblr post. fics on ao3 have a "share" button, located above the tags and summary. this has a tumblr option, which you can then use to automatically post the fic link to tumblr. this is a bit cluttered since it includes all of the tags from the fic, alongside the full summary, rating, wordcount, etc. personally, i would then edit a little to remove some of that information so that it's more eyecatching and less overwhelming, but if you don't want to, that's also fine! that is still almost always going to be better than posting the link by itself with a single sentence to describe it, and isn't half-bad formatting-wise.
finally, you'll note my posts for ongoing chapters aren't normally given this treatment or fandom tags (although i almost always include a summary of some kind on them). this is because i generally don't want people finding my fic for the first time from a random chapter in the middle. i don't mind if they do, but i'm not going to spam the tag and i'm not going to make THAT much of an effort to make the post appealing. new chapters are things that might tell one of my followers that there's an ongoing fic they should look out for, and tell my current readers and followers that there's, well, a new chapter, but generally they aren't going to hook people. however, if you post chapters a lot more infrequently than i do, or if you simply have the energy to, there's nothing stopping you from applying these to chapter posts as well!
the thing is: look, at the end of the day, i agree with people who say you should write for yourself. how many notes you get isn't a big deal, i promise; the most important feeling is, ultimately, the feeling you get when you finish something and know you made it with your own hands. some of my favorite writing achievements are NOT my most popular, but are my favorites for reasons entirely unrelated to popularity. however, i see a lot of writers bemoaning how badly their fic posts do, when their fic posts are the ao3 embed and a single sentence that reads "this is my new fic enjoy"; the thing is, there are things you can do to make that link into something that someone is more likely to read and/or reblog! (i know i personally don't like reblogging links if i don't know their contents for the aforementioned internet safety reasons.)
just because you write for yourself doesn't mean that you can't give yourself a little leg up in finding your audience. it's worth it both for yourself and your readers, i promise.
#i always feel Weird making posts like this because i feel like they're like. influencer-y#but i do think that 'catching people's attention' IS part of writing fic! so here's a little guide on to how to post fics#hopefully this helps someone out there!#writing
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Overpoweringly Sweet
Logan Howlett aka Wolverine x gn!nonspecified mutant! Reader
Summary: Somehow you contracted Hanahaki for a man you hardly ever spoken to. Cant end well can it?
W/C: ~9k Warnings: a little OOC, angst, graphic description of coughing up flowers with blood.
AO3 Mirror A/N: I never post actual fics on tumblr but I feel that it needs to be done here. So sorry if its kinda formatted weird? it will also be on AO3!. First x-men fic too so sorry if its a bit ooc. Not really based on any specific iteration of Wolverine. Also not edited like, at all. Also I take requests! :3
~~ :3 ~~
You know, having a crush on someone so unattainable is laughable at best. Having a crush on them and apparently somehow contracting Hanahaki is even worse. How does that even happen? You haven’t even spoken to the guy more than a few words. Too embarrassed to open your mouth to introduce yourself and you work together. Yet here you are, petals on the bathroom floor and a constricting feeling in your throat. Your head lying on the back of the stall door. Still heaving from the sudden onslaught of overly sickly floral-scented petals that spilled out.
Gardenias. Pure white and mocking.
The smell of them made you nauseous. The sight of them even more so. After looking up what they meant. It just made things even worse.
Secret love. How fitting.
It’s a damn crush, and the world decided it was love. Love for a grumpy ass old man with hair that kinda made you think of a cat. Actually, he reminded you of a cat in general. One that you want to rest your face on and fall asleep. Bury your face in those pecs of his. Muscles may look hard, but they do have a bit of squish. By God, does he have muscles. You’ve caught him shirtless a few times. All by accident, of course. You weren’t a pervert. Anytime you think of it, your jaw clenches tight.
Ah, getting off-topic here. Back to the fact that apparently, hanahaki doesn’t care if you’ve ever talked to someone before.
The stall door was cool against your cheek when you turned your head, and it was less gross than hugging the toilet like you wanted to so you could flush the flowers down the drain. It was terrible. The petals surround you, and a single full bloom floats mockingly in the toilet.
You know how to cure it. The moment that the flower petals started to spill from your lips, you desperately looked for what it was. It wasn’t that hard to find, apparently some find it sickeningly romantic. Bet they never had to deal with the ache that was constant around your lungs. You found the cure for it as well. Should be easy to do, right? Tell the person how you feel and they return it, or get it surgically removed. The surgery should be the right choice. It’s the only choice. You’ve hardly spoken to the man who coveted your affection, but the thought of not feeling the tug of your heart when you see him was too much to bear. Which makes no sense! It’s a dumb crush.
God, you’re an idiot.
A deep breath fills your lungs slightly, and the pain wraps around your chest as you try to get a full breath. Your hands find purchase on the rim of the toilet, and you push yourself up. Now, on two shaky legs, you wipe your mouth. You need to clean up the petals before anyone comes in. It was still the middle of the day, and classes were still going. Thank God the coughing fit didn’t hit you till lunch, or you would have to explain to a classroom full of students. That would be embarrassing. Yeah sorry class, your teacher is in love with someone they can’t have, let’s continue with the lesson now! Embarrassing.
Your hands start to pick up the petals. Each one feels as if it was searing into your skin. One, two, five, ten, thirty. Thirty petals and one full bloom. You were screwed. You could go to Hank. See if he knew any other way around it, any way to fix the disgusting flowers that took root in your lungs. Maybe being a mutant changed how to cure the disease? That was just hopeful thinking, though.
After mulling over the choices for a few moments more, you finally unlock the stall door and walk over to the garbage, quickly discarding the petals that did not make it into the toilet.
Your feet then carry you out of the bathroom and, as luck would have it, right into the chest of the one person you did not want to face yet.
Logan.
You were right, though. The muscles on his chest were squishy. God you want to just motorboat him real fast. Would that be weird? Yeah it would be. As quickly as you ran into him, you tried to remove yourself from his personal space. You know the guy wasn’t too fond of touch. You think. You actually… don’t know. Words quickly spill from your mouth as you try to apologize. “Sorry, sorry. Didn’t see you.”
Logan just makes some gruff-sounding noise and continues on his way. You could faintly see as he walked away scrunching of his nose. He was probably able to smell the faint floral scent that was clinging to you. It probably wasn’t pleasant. You didn’t like the scent, it probably was a lot stronger on his end.
As you stand in the hallway after the sudden bump into your crush, you place your hand on your chest to calm your beating heart, and you walk in the opposite direction to your classroom. It hurt that he didn’t even say anything back to your apology, but that seemed pretty in character. To you, at least. If you were on friendlier terms, maybe not, but you doubt he even knows your name.
The thought of the surgery resurfaces in your head. Maybe you should get it. Ignore the deep-seated pain in your heart at the thought of losing your feelings for him. However, the repercussions of a botched removal is another reason not to do so. It could remove the feeling of ever being in love again. Would that be so bad though?
You shake your head. You have a class you have to get back to… and a phone call to make.
The day continued on like normal after that. Classes, grading papers, discreetly removing petals from your mouth into the trashcan by your desk as you graded papers. A new norm for you. It did seem that a few students had noticed a slight change in you. In fact, one of them even got you a get well soon card. Sweet, but it left a bitter taste in your mouth.
If you don’t get better soon, you will probably end up another statistic for the disease. How many people were there that had it and perished as the roots wrapped around the lungs and slowly filled the valves on the heart. Too many, probably. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at that. That’s why you were now sitting in your now empty classroom, making a phone call. You had found a number to a doctor who specializes in the disease. You would get some advice and decide from there what you want to do.
The phone rings, once, twice….
“Hello, this is Dr. Forrest’s office. How may I help you?” How fitting a doctor who knows about Hanahaki has a nature-based last name.
You quickly introduce yourself and ask if you could speak to him or schedule an appointment. Apparently the only way to talk to him is with an appointment. The next one isn’t for a few months. You don’t even know if you’ll last that long. You’ve been keeping track. A full bloom appeared today. A singular full bloom, no steam. The petals were loose so it had to be in the early start of the mid stages. It was taking its time infecting you. It must be due to not seeing Logan all the time.
You do tend to avoid him when you can. The thought of seeing him always makes your cheeks burn. Man was just too hot. It made it seem like you were in love with just his looks! You weren’t. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be coughing up all these petals. You’re pretty sure it wasn’t just his looks. The flower has a meaning, after all.
Maybe if you avoid Logan, actually stop trying to see if you can see him across the halls. Stop looking for him during dining hours. Just try to ignore him. Though unless he was going to go on one of those sudden long vanishing acts. Well, you doubt that you actually will be able to avoid him enough to live till the next appointment. You really are screwed. Shit.
Running a hand over your face with a groan you lean back in the chair behind your desk. What should you do? The surgery now seemed to be out of the question. So now you either confess and die, or you just die. Which definitely was not the ideal thing to do. You were screwed. Hands down. Your name is on the death warrant the moment the receptionist said months. Maybe you should go to Hank. Dude was a certified genius right? He would know something.
A knock at your door made you jump. Quickly you lift your head and look over to the closed door to your classroom. Could be a student, another faculty member? Whoever it was either needed you or the room.
“Come on in.”
Silence followed and then the door opened up. Your gaze turns to the door, ready to answer whatever questions that are going to follow. Till you hear the tall tale sound of boots, heavy. The sound of jeans rubbing against legs. A jacket rustling slightly from movement. Jeez, why are you suddenly so aware of the sounds?
Your eyes hone in on the man you’ve been thinking about. Logan. Twice. TWICE in one day you’ve seen him up close. See him in your space. He never seeks you out. You never get to see him up close like this more than once or twice a week. It’s like you’re in a fanfiction and someone is pushing the two of you together.
That’s silly though, this was real life.
“Oh, Logan. How can I… help you?” Could you sound any more awkward? You want to bang your head on your desk. Especially with how he was just looking at you. Should you have called him Wolverine? Mr. Howlett?
“You need to let up on that perfume you’re wearing. Can smell it all over the hall.” His face gives away the fact he smells something he doesn’t like.
Perfume?... Perfume… The flowers. Of course he could smell it. The floral scent has been clinging to you since the first petals slipped from between your lips.
“Oh, heh sorry. I’ll try to use less of it.” You just laugh a bit, still feeling a tad bit uncomfortable, the sudden tickle in your throat reminding you that you could not stop the smell from permeating your skin. That it will linger on you till you no longer have these flowers growing inside of your chest. “If I use too much again I’m sorry. Can’t really tell when I use too much or not.”
Blue eyes narrow at you, you can tell he doesn’t believe you. That he should call you out on it. “Thanks bub, it’s masking everything else.”
With that he left the room as quickly as he came, there was a slight pause and you can tell he glanced at the trash can by your desk. The trash can that had a few petals thrown in haphazardly. Thought to be hidden by the papers that you threw on top. You hope that is all he sees.
That was such an awkward interaction. You slam your head on the desk once more. God why are you such an idiot.
~~ :3c ~~
Time continues on like normal, but recently you catch Logan at the corner of your eye. Which is normal, you usually do seek him out. Yet now it’s like he is everywhere you go. Walking in the gardens, he’s out there smoking one of his cigars leaning on a tree or the wall of the mansion. You’d be eating and you’d see him a table or two away, his eyes on you. You can feel them boring into your skin. You’ll be walking in the hallways and see him turning a corner before you fully spot him. More often than not you find him outside of the bathroom you were just in after coughing up a storm. Just standing by the door like a guard dog. Always scrunching his nose when the door opens and the aroma of flowers follows you out.
He knew. He had to. He had to know something was wrong with you. There is no way he doesn’t. The man has been alive long enough that he probably knows the signs of what you have. The disease that is currently ruining your life. He has probably seen all sorts of people who have had Hanahaki. You won’t be the first, nor the last person he has seen inflicted with it either. It’s probably why he’s keeping an eye on you. He must have found out when he came to ask you to stop using so much perfume and yet you still smell that sickeningly floral smell on you.
Unless you’re just suddenly more aware of him than you were before. Which you shouldn’t be. You were already highly aware of him due to your damn dumb crush that’s killing you. Eyes are always lingering on him.
It’s probably because of the scent that’s following you around. It is probably sticking out more than your usual scent, which was. You don’t know. What do you normally smell like? Apparently, it’s something non-distinct since the new smell is pretty overpowering. If you can smell it, it must be strong.
You wish you knew what was going through the man’s head. You couldn’t really ask him. You aren’t close to him like that. Can’t ask the people he is close to either because you aren’t close to them. You kinda just, are here in the mansion teaching. You’re not a part of x-men, you aren’t too interested in fighting anyways. You earned your keep teaching. You are vaguely close to Hank though. Well, in recent events at least. You could ask him?
Yeah, no, you aren’t. You’re going to suffer through this. You can handle it. You don’t need to know what’s going on in his mind.
Which reminds you, you need to actually go talk to Hank. You’ve been putting it off, but the full blooms are startling. Every other coughing fit brings one full bloom. It has only been a week since the first bloom and with the sudden influx of Logan sightings, it is speeding up. You needed an out and fast. Before it kills you.
Thus here you are walking through the mansion to head down to his lab. Quickly avoiding anyone you see. The scent of flowers following you through the halls like a wraith. Leaving a trail of sweetness to waft into the air. Disgusting.
As you make your way into the lab you spot Hank, or Beast? Shit, you don’t even know which one he prefers to be called. You really should ask, huh. Anyway, you spot him.
When the blue-furred man spots you, he quickly greets you with your name: “It is good to see you this fine evening. What do I owe the pleasure? It is not often I see you down here.”
If you could, you would sigh deeply. The rattling of vines stops the motion before it begins. “Hi yeah uh. I got into a delicate situation and I don’t know who else to go to? The doctor I had called can’t really see me and I don’t know what else to do and you’re like… The smartest person I know so I’m hoping… you could help?” The words spill out quickly.
Hank raises an eyebrow and fixes the glasses perched on his face. The man was upside down for some odd reason, and he quickly flipped to land on the ground. With grace you don’t expect for someone his size. Then again, you’ve seen some weird ass mutations. He motions for you to sit down on one of the beds stationed in the lab. One used when needed for situations like this. Medical, scientific, not something you can throw a punch at and fix.
After sitting down on the bed, you start to explain. Words flowing like a waterfall. He is the first person you have gone into detail about your condition. How the petals slip from your lips like a poison, the tightening of your chest with each breath. The fear of losing yourself to unrequited love and dying because of it. You do not mention who it is directed at nor the fact you thought it was a crush and did not deserve to have evolved into such a disease.
The room fell silent after your reveal, a silence that stretched on longer than you would have liked. God, you hope he has an idea about how to help you out of this mess.
“From my knowledge there are only two cures. I assume you already know.” A pause as you answer with a curt nod. “I do not believe there are any other alternatives other than what has been proven to work. I assume that you are here to find out if there are any or that you require the surgery.”
“I can’t tell them… I really had hoped that you would know. I don’t.” You sigh and run a hand through your hair, messing it up slightly. It was already a mess from earlier, but you know how hands are in hair. “It’s not an option to tell them.”
“I see. It will take some time, but I will see if I can learn the correct procedure so that there will be minimal to no complications.” Hank pats you on the shoulder and motions for you to head out. He had some things to do and research to go over. Escorting you out of his lab so Hank may do what is necessary. He didn’t give a timeline, but you trust that he can do it before your time is up.
You really hope that he can do this.
After leaving the lab, you had to pass some of the other faculty. Or X-men? Yeah, it seems they are setting off on a mission of some sort. You pass Cyclops, Storm, Jean and. Yeah, that is exactly who you don’t want to see right now. Logan. Seems he is going with them. To, wherever they have to go. You give them all a small nod in acknowledgment as you pass them. Each one provides you a small smile or nods back.
Logan though? He pauses when you pass him. His face contorted into something you weren’t too sure of. He probably caught another whiff of the flowers on you. Great. The others give him a look and he just grunts at them. Somehow they understand and continue on their way. Leaving you with Logan.
A hand grabs your bicep, fingers wrapping around the muscle. Your gaze drops to the hand, in another life you were sure it would be rough with use, but it was surprisingly soft. The grip was not, natural strength hidden behind the hold. A promise that you would not be able to pull away without exerting yourself.
“You’re smellin’ worse. Thought I told you to let up.” A gruff voice, oh how you want to roll in that voice. That was a weird thought, you should probably stop thinking of that like a weirdo. God are you a weirdo?
An awkward laugh bubbles up from your chest. You can feel your own muscles tense under his hold and gaze. Damn he’s never looked at you like this before. A slight glare, crinckled nose, and a slight snarl on his lips. You must be really weird because damn was that kind of a hot look. Which somehow in turn makes your chest tighten and the tickle of a cough is trying to break free. You swallow hard to bite it back. Yet you can feel the petals moving through your throat.
“Sorry sorry, I guess I overdid it?” You pull your eyes away from his. Unable to continue to look at his face. Be it from your weird thoughts, the tickle in your throat or your inability to keep eye contact with someone. “I swear I’m not doing it on purpose.”
“You’re hiding that you're sick.” The grip on your arm tightens. Not in a painful manner no, but a reminder that you cannot run away from this conversation. Which is odd right? Why does Logan care? You two hardly know each other. Sure you apparently love the man, but you’re still sure he doesn’t even know your name. You’ve seen him care for others in the mansion, a good friend in an odd way. A father figure and mentor to some of the students. Also in a weird way. You’re sure he’d brush off that idea and say he isn’t. He is.
Wait, he just said you’re sick… “I’m not sick?”
Logan's eyes narrow as he stares at you. Do you look sick? Sure you’ve gotten a little pale and eating has gotten a little hard so you haven’t been eating as much as you usually do. Does being sick have a smell to it? Fuck that is weird. Well, some animals could tell when others are sick before physical symptoms show. Maybe that's how he knew. No, that wouldn’t make sense because you aren’t really sick. You just have a big fat crush that's killing you.
You can tell Logan doesn’t believe you. “Just fix it. Can’t stand the smell on you.” His hand lets go and he stalks down the hallway to where the others had walked off to. Your eyes linger on his form as he walks away. The ghost of a feeling on your arm where his hand had wrapped around it. The slight warmth seeping into your skin slowly vanishes. God you’re fucked.
~~ >:3 ~~
And fucked you are. It’s been at least two months since you told Hank about the hanahaki. Hank is taking his sweet ass time researching the procedure, the doctor you called has called back finally and mentioned that his next opening for a consultation was still months away. Which you decide to say fuck that guy, you trust Hank can do it. The doctor probably won’t even work on a mutant. Logan is still always at the corner of your eye. A scowl or sneer on his face anytime he looks at you. Not to mention the flowers! They’re getting worse.
Full blooms, multiple at a time. Their petals no longer loose around the center. Now they are tightly packed, fully bloomed and speckled with blood as they escape through your throat. Occasionally there would be a flower that had not bloomed yet. Still wrapped tightly, not fully formed. You weren’t sure what that meant, but you’re sure it wasn’t good. At least they were not roses. You feel bad for those who dealt with that. Thorns were something you were happy that was not in the mix of your own flower hell.
The flowers aren’t fully developed yet. Stems have not fallen with them. Yet you are unsure if you would survive long enough to see the end stages of hanahaki. Your body is getting weaker and weaker each day. Your own mutation even fighting against you. You can hardly call on it now. Once you had wished to be a normal person, but that has been years ago. Now you feel like you are losing a part of yourself. These damn flowers truly are killing you. Both physically and emotionally.
You had to leave class more often. The coughs that tore through your chest made it unbearable to speak long enough to teach an entire class to its completion. Students start to worry, other faculty seem to notice the sudden change as you have to start asking for people to cover your class for you as you rush to the restroom to hug the porcelain throne to exude the flowers of love. Each time more and more petals fall from your lips, tears stain your cheeks more often due to the pain and energy it takes to clear them out from your throat.
It has gotten to the point where you had to ask someone to cover your class in full, or cancel it. You don’t want to cancel your classes, but at the rate you are going it will be the only thing you can do. Today is probably the last full class you can handle, you feel like shit. Your throat itches, your stomach aches from the lack of food. Your head hurts because of the lack of sleep from the coughing. Yeah, you might have to take a break from it all. What surprises you is that Logan is waiting outside of your classroom.
Ok it’s not that surprising. You’ve been catching him outside your classroom since he came back. It is like he is suddenly more aware of you. He doesn’t say anything, but you can feel his eyes on you. You would be excited usually, your crush suddenly paying attention to you! How great is that? Yet lately it just makes things feel so much worse. Especially with that sneer on his face. You know he knows something is up, he made it clear two months ago. Though he hasn’t brought it up again. Yet he is always there. Like a shadow.
Which is honestly a bit uncomfortable. You aren’t used to this amount of attention.
“You don’t have to stand out here you know?” Papers you needed to grade were in your arms. You may need to take a break, but you should at least grade these papers before someone takes the class over. Your last bit of work.
Logan just stares at you. The slight glare, the wrinkled nose, the arms crossing making those muscles bulge out of his shirt. You had to quickly drag your eyes away from his arms so you aren’t caught staring. You don’t meet his eyes though. It was too intense.
“You’re getting worse.” Way to point out the obvious Logan.
“Good observation.” A short pause follows after. Silence falls for a few moments. “I uh, it’s why I’m takin a break. Sick leave? Uh… Yeah…” You really don’t know how to talk to him. The tickle in your throat is back again. Too soon, you just hacked up half your lung just moments before. You really don’t want to cough in front of him. You thought he might already know what it is, but he still thinks the smell on you is perfume. So no way do you want him to know the truth.
Logan stares at you a few moments longer, a slight grunt. His head motioned for you to follow him. That’s how you read it at least as he starts to walk down the corridor and only pauses to look at you. Looks like you’re following him. This can’t end well can it?
The two of you walk silently through the corridors. Your arms are still full of papers, but it seems the two of you are heading out into the garden. Probably for the best, the crisp air outside will dull the floral scent. Hopefully at least. Even if it lingers on your skin and it has gotten to the point others have even started to point it out. The halls were mostly empty though at this time. Most students are already off doing their own thing, you can vaguely hear a laughter from down the hall as the two of you finally make your way outside.
Into the garden, the cool air bites at your exposed arms. You should have worn a jacket. Too late for that now it seems. The trees are already turning orange, autumn making its way across the land. Oranges, reds and browns. If you weren’t full of anxiety you would be enjoying the sights. Especially as Logan brings you over to a small bench by the man-made pond. A bit away from everyone, but still close enough to the mansion you can dash inside if needed.
You take a seat first. The papers sit beside you. Logan stands in front of you. Arms crossed and eyes narrowed. He isn’t sitting. Why isn’t he sitting?
“So uh…” Your voice comes out first, awkward and a bit unsure. The tickle in your throat grows again as you fight it back.
“It’s not perfume on you is it?” Logan’s gaze never leaves yours, but you can’t help but look away. Too uncomfortable with the eyes boring into you. You never once used perfume, though you did use that as an excuse didn’t you?
Silence followed after. Your eyes looking at the ground as you kick your legs back and forth. Unable to voice the truth. Logan is still looking at you, jaw clenching most likely. You don’t have to look at him to know.
His voice finally cuts through the silence. Apparently he was sick of you beating around the bush and not answering him. Your name on his lips startling you slightly. You honestly thought he didn’t know your name, but it seems you were wrong. “What's makin you so sick that it’s leaving you to look like that and smell like that.”
You should tell him. Tell him. TELL HIM.
…
You’ll tell him without actually telling him. You don’t think you’d survive telling him the full truth. You’re a pretty good liar most of the time. He might be able to pick through the lie but he’s not that perceptive right?
“I uh… It’s.” You feel like you’re stumbling over your words, your throat constricting. “I have.”
You couldn’t finish your sentence. Your muscles tensing as a cough tears through you. Violently. Your body lurching forward as your hand shoots up to cover your lips as the cough pulls out petals and blossoms alike. Your hand can’t catch all the petals as they spill to the ground. Your eyes clenching shut as tears prickle the corners due to how painful it was. The other hand not covering your mouth grabs at your chest. As if you could claw the roots out through your skin. It burns.
It burns, it burns, it burns.
It won’t stop. You can’t stop hacking up the petals. Each cough brings out a sob with it as well. It has never been this bad. The scent of gardenias explodes. It burns your nose. You hate the smell of it. If you survive you’ll never be able to handle this scent again. Your body retching forward as you double over. Body crumpling in on itself as you try desperately to get some air into your already filled lungs. You would think having plants living in your lungs would give you more oxygen. If only it didn’t wrap tightly around your lungs and neighboring organs. Leaving little space for what you truly needed.
You almost forget Logan is there with you. An unexpected presence sits beside you. Warmth seeping into your side. He doesn’t set a comforting hand on your back. Doesn’t say any words. But him sitting beside you is enough comfort. You don’t think you could handle physical touch anyways. Your body would probably jerk harder at it. Hanahaki really was a killing disease wasn’t it. It was going to kill you before even getting to the final stage. You can’t do this.
Slowly the coughing fit lessens. The petals and blooms spilling from your mouth as if it was all you breathed came to a stop. Your body still hunched over, tears filling your eyes as you finally, finally stopped coughing up the damned flowers. You were still shaking, trying to catch the lost breath.
“You’re ok sweetheart. Just try and breathe.” Something large, heavy, warm rests on your upper back. Small soothing circles. He called you sweetheart, that was strange. You don’t expect comfort. You don’t think Logan expected to comfort you like this either. It was an awkward movement, but comforting. You wanted to lean into it, lean into him. You weren’t going to though. Pain was radiating through your chest and you weren’t sure you would be able to sit up straight without coughing again. Fear that any movement will bring on another coughing fit settled inside of you like a vice. You can still feel the slight tickle in your raw throat.
You taste blood.
It takes a few tries, gasping tries, before air finally was able to fill your lungs enough that you could breathe properly. Or well, as well as you can with roots wrapping around your insides. You pull out a few petals that were still stuck in your mouth and let them fall to the ground as you slowly sit up. Still slightly hunched over but no longer practically hugging your legs. You wipe your mouth on the back of your hand, blood from your lips smearing across your skin. Eyes on the ground where the mess you made mocks you. There's so much, white and red. White flowers that you would have thought beautiful covered in splotches of your own blood. Tainting the gardenias, tainting the meaning of secret love. Disgusting. You’re disgusting.
Your eyes linger on the ground as you finally speak. Voice raspy and strained. “Sorry.”
“Nothin to be sorry about, nasty thing you got. Seen it a few times.” Logan’s voice is gruff, yet there is a touch of something tender in there. Unexpected. You don’t like it. He shouldn’t be treating you like this. He doesn’t know you, he doesn’t know that you’re like this because of him, because of your dumb crush on him that the world decided was good enough to practically kill you.
Ok that’s not true. You know under his rough and tough demeanor and the huge, insensitive ass he could be. He’s caring and trustworthy. Loyal as fuck and self-sacrificing. It’s what had drawn you in in the first place. The soft look he’d give to people he cared about when no one was looking. The way he treats the younger mutants. It was heartwarming. Your admiration for him turned from simply looking up to him to wanting him to look at you that way.
Silence falls between the two of you again as you continue to try to take in oxygen. The taste of iron and earth is still on your tongue. The sound of fellow mutants distantly chatting and the occasional bird cuts through the silence. You don’t want to talk, you don’t want to tell him who your affliction derives from. You doubt he would ask, but he might. You’ll need to think of an excuse. A lie. Anything to keep him from finding out it is him. He’d reject you. You know this already. You’ve seen him look at others. He doesn’t look at you like that. You just learned he knew your name too! The two of you hardly spoke before. This is the most attention you have ever gotten from him. He doesn’t love you the way the disease needs him to.
“Who's the asshole?” His words cut through the silence again. Surprising you once more. This definitely is the most words he has ever spoken to you.
“Doesn’t matter… He doesn’t feel the same.” Your throat continued to feel raw. It hurt to speak, but you needed to answer. You couldn’t stay quiet when he asked. Your gaze moves from the ground to glance at him from the side. You try not to meet his eyes but you can see a look on his face that had never been directed towards you. In any other situation you would be happy, ecstatic. Right now though, it makes your stomach tie up in uncomfortable knots.
A slight hint of anger crosses Logan’s face and his hand just rests on your back, no longer rubbing those soothing circles. You know he wants to know. The look he has on him makes you think he sees you as someone under his protection, it’s nice. Even if it is not really what you want at the moment.
“So you’re willing to die for him.” There was a short pause between his words. His tone is soft, you don’t like it. “Seen most with it die that way. Shouldn’t have to die like that.”
You decide not to reply to the fact that you were willing to die for these feelings. Why? Because you still don’t want to believe it is true. Even with the flowers clearly showing signs the crush was love. Infatuation. You hate this. “Dr. Mccoy is going to perform the surgery for me. Should be any day now.”
You at least hope it will be any day now. You spoke to him a couple days ago and he seemed a bit all over the place so you couldn’t ask him if he was ready yet. You know he hadn’t forgotten, you saw the books laying on one of the tables next to some tools, but time was ticking and it was ticking fast. You know it and now… Now Logan knows it too. You’re on limited time.
“I… can’t tell him. He doesn’t feel the same, he can’t. I’ll die if I tell him. I have to do the surgery. I’d rather chance not feeling love again than to confess and die. I…” Your hands curl into themselves as you look back down at the flowers. The tightening in your chest squeezes harder. You don’t need to explain yourself, but you feel like you have to. This way you can come to terms with it. Speaking it out loud makes it all too real. “I trust Dr.Mccoy. He won’t fail. He… he can’t.”
“Lotta trust in the guy.” Logan leans back on the bench, his hand lingering on your back removes itself as he crosses his arms. You feel the itch in your throat again, it’s too soon for more petals. You at least hope so. Logan then continues, “Remember watching someone choke on their own blood cause of that shit. Don’t want to see you on that end sweetheart.”
Logan called you sweetheart, again. It made butterflies fly around your stomach, churning with the anxiety already there. It was not the most comfortable of feelings. You weren’t expecting it this time either. It was nice. Would be nicer in better circumstances though. “Thanks Logan, but I’ll survive this. I have to…”
“Still think you should tell me who this asshole is. Could talk to him.” You hear the familiar snikt sound, a clear sign he extended his claws. A glance over was all you needed to confirm he did, the light gleaming off the metal.
“God no! Sure actions speak louder than words for him, but it wont help.” Because he’d be threatening himself. You couldn’t help but let a pathetic laugh bubble up. Pain radiating through your chest and throat as you do so. At least you can still find some humor in this. Logan’s claws go right back under his skin and between his knuckles at your words. Though you can tell he still seemed interested in using violence against who is causing this for you. God, you wish you could tell him.
The two of you fall into another silence. Your own thoughts are swirling through your head and you’re sure Logan is also dealing with his own thoughts. Your disease is now out there. What truly ales you has been revealed without you actually saying the words. You wished you could have said the words, said what it was, told him your feelings. Though things never work out that way do they.
You aren’t sure how this was going to end.
Logan looks at you the same time you gaze at him. Your eyes meet his blue ones. You would wax poetic about his eyes, but that seems pretty cliche. Everyone always does when talking about blue eyes, how they look like the ocean, or the sky. Logan’s reminds you of steel, the silvery blue that almost matches the adamantium claws you see on occasion. There is something in those eyes though, something you can’t read. Something behind that wall everyone knows he puts up. You want to dig deeper, fall into those eyes to avoid all your problems. Be free of the pain you can’t escape. The two of you seem to just stare at each other far longer than it felt.
“Tell me when you get the surgery. I want to be there.”
“...Okay.”
And just like that, the two of you break eye contact and fall into a silence. A silence only broken by the occasional cough from you and the sounds of nature and other mutants about. You wish you could have experienced this sooner. Before your world decided to crash down on you. You’ll just have to enjoy the time with him like this while you can. Before the feelings you have for him are forever torn away. Leaving only a hollow space in your chest for the fellow mutant.
You’re not ready.
~~ :3 !! ~~
Hank Mccoy finally let you know he was ready to do the surgery a few days after your chat with Logan. You weren’t ready for it. You didn’t want to lose these feelings, you didn’t want the complications that may follow, but fuck you don’t want to die either. You will die if you don’t do this surgery. You can’t… You have to do this.
Which is why you are outside of the room Logan usually occupies when he is in the mansion. You've been standing outside of his room for what felt like hours now. You knew he probably could hear your heartbeat, but he isn’t coming out. He asked to be there when you got the surgery. He wanted to support you for some reason. You could just go, leave and get the surgery without telling him. Your anxiety welling up along with the urge to throw up. Your hand is already raised before you could stop yourself and you knock three times.
Silence follows after. The sound of shuffling and the door opens. Logan standing there in one of those slutty little white tank tops and jeans. A classic look that was all too hot in your opinion. Your mouth feels dry as he looks at you.
“I’m getting it now.” You rub your arm, unable to look him in the eyes. You do look at his face though. Just long enough to see shock cross his face for a few seconds, which quickly vanished back behind his usual look. Logan steps out of his room and shuts the door, head tilting to the side a bit as he waits for you to start walking to Hank’s lab.
The two of you walk silently through the halls. It was late in the afternoon. You could have gotten it earlier in the day but your body was so exhausted from the coughing fit you had that night that you couldn’t bring yourself to get out of bed. In fact you’re still in your pajamas mostly. Sweatpants and a t-shirt. Comfy. You’re going into surgery, you deserve not to dress up for it. Logan doesn’t comment on it either so it’s fine. You’re fine.
Everything is fine.
The two of you enter the lab quietly. No one else seems to be here but Hank. After all, one else knew. People knew you were sick of course, but you kept a tight lip on what exactly was inflicting you.
Hank greets you with your name. A look of surprise as his eyes drop onto Logan. Quickly he glanced back at you and you just shrugged your shoulders slightly. Letting Hank know the situation. How Logan knew what was wrong with you and wanted to be here with you. Moral support from the emotionally constipated x-men. Well, mostly constipated.
After going over the procedures and what needed to be done you step behind the curtains, changing into one of those flimsy hospital gowns. The cool air nipping at your skin as you bite your bottom lip. You were scared. You didn’t want this. You couldn’t do this. You can’t do this! You don’t want to lose your feelings for Logan. He just now is starting to show you attention. It’s not fair! You shouldn’t have to deal with this! You can’t, you can’t, you can’t, you can’t, you can’t, you can’t, you can’t.
“Are you okay?” Hank's voice cuts through your spiral. Eyes watering and your chest heaving. Ohm you were crying. No, you were sobbing again. Your hands are shaking at your side. You glance at the curtain that hid you from the other two. You know they heard you crying, heard you falling apart. How embarrassing. Your hand grips at the gown, bunching it up at your chest as you take a shaky breath. Lungs barely able to hold a full inhale.
“Yeah… Yeah sorry. I’m ok. I��m ready.” You step out from behind the curtain. Clear concern was on the blue mutant's face. You can’t read the others. You don’t like this. You silently pad over to the table, bed, whatever it is, that is set up for you. Another strained breathe and you sit on the surface. A glance at the two of them and you lay back. You’re surprised the professor wasn’t here to help out. Maybe he wasn’t needed. Hank could handle this on his own. You can handle this. Logan was here, you didn’t want him here, but it was a strange comfort knowing the man you loved was here to support you. Even if said surgery would remove all feelings for him. How poetic.
You stare at the ceiling, unsure of what to do as Hank moves around you. Logan who had been leaning on the wall walks over and takes your hand in his. Holding it as if you would shatter at the softest of touches. You hate it.
“Offer still stands darlin’. Can make the guy love you back.” Although the words would work well in a teasing tone. There was a hint of seriousness behind it. Like he didn’t want you to go under. To have the gardenias removed from your chest. Your hand squeezes his weakly. You knew you didn’t have much time left. You had to do this or confess. Only one of those was an actual option.
Hank returns and holds up the mask. You lift your head up as he slides it over your mouth and nose. It’s too late. You can feel the tears threatening to fall again. You’re scared. Your grip on Logan’s hand tightens as Hank moves around you, making sure you’re hooked up correctly. Your vision starts to blur slightly. You try to inhale the gas as deeply as you could, it hurt. Your lungs didn’t want to fill, you think you can feel the roots wiggling deeper through your lungs and closer to your heart. Your eyes are on Logan, fear clearly radiating off of you. Your own eyes showing the anxiety inside of you. Logan just stands strong next to you. Like a silent guard.
As the world starts to blacken around you, the corners of the room vanishing slowly. You couldn’t help yourself. You were getting the surgery. You can say the words now. It won’t matter. Your head was already floating and consciousness was fading. Eyes focusing on Logan, like a tunnel. All you could see was him as the world around you slowly vanished into nothingness. Three words slipped out of you without much thought.
“I love you.”
The world shifts and the world goes dark.
The quiet beeping echos. A steady rhythm that matches the slight pounding in your head. Your eyes slowly open, only to quickly shut again. The lights were a bit too bright and everything was… Numb. Your mouth feels dry and you physically can’t feel anything. Did the surgery go wrong? Why can’t you feel anything? A groan bubbles up from your throat as you force your eyes to open. That’s when you feel it.
You can feel every muscle, every fiber of the blanket covering you. The heaviness in your chest is gone. You take a breath. You can… You can take a breath. Your lungs are fully filled with oxygen. Chest rising higher than it has in months. You can breathe. Your eyes open again, the bright fluorescent lights above you illuminate the room. You tilt your head away from looking up at the ceiling. Eyes moving around the room. Gaze falling on the little monitor you’re hooked up to. The beeping was your heartbeat. Ok. That looked good.
Your head turns the other direction as you take in another sweet deep breath. Eyes landing on Logan. He was still here, sitting beside your bed, head lolled to the side clearly asleep. Your chest tightens in the familiar feeling you have been dealing with for months. That can’t be right. You shouldn’t still be feeling this longing. You shouldn’t still be feeling the warmth that spreads through you over the fact that he had stayed. You shouldn’t be feeling the soft tug on your heart as you look at him or the soft smile pulling on your lips.
This was wrong. Something was wrong. You raise the arm that wasn’t hooked up to all the devices and set it on your chest. There was pain there, raw and uncomfortable, but there was no bump on your chest to show there was a bandage, no pain pulling at your skin. The pain you felt was all under your skin. This isn’t right, something is wrong. Your chest felt clear but you have no evidence that you underwent the surgery. You force yourself to sit up. Pain shoots down your spine. You groaned in pain and a hand was suddenly pressing down on your shoulder. Forcing you back onto the bed. Logan had gotten up.
“Logan?” Your voice was scratchy. It felt just like the times you coughed up all those flowers when he found out. “What… What’s going on? Why do I…”
“Yeah it’s me. Lay back down. Can’t have you moving around too much yet.” Logan’s hand was still on your shoulder, a gentle pressure making you lay back down onto the bed. Your eyebrows furrowing in confusion at the look he is giving you. You can’t read him. “Don’t talk too much either. Hank said you got to heal.”
Yet you’re pretty sure you didn’t get the surgery though! You should be dead. You… You told Logan how you felt. How you still feel. Yet the urge to cough is gone. Your chest feeling lighter than it has since before the disease took its hold on your life. That has to mean something. Something happened when you went under. What happened? Why won’t he tell you? Why is he looking at you like that?
Logan’s hand finally pulled away from your shoulder. He just stares down at you as you stare at him. Silence falls between you two. His hand then slowly moves again. Your eyes darting down to the hand. Slowly his hand goes to push some hair out of your face. The same look he has been giving you for the past few months crosses his face. You still don’t know what it means, but it is making your stomach flip.
“Glad you didn’t die for a guy like me. World be a lot darker without you in it.” His hand gently cups your cheek, his thumb gently rubbing your cheek. His hand was soft and warm. The touch a bit too tender for someone like him.
Wait. Wait wait wait. He heard you. He heard what you said before going under. You didn’t go through the surgery yet your chest feels lighter than it should. That could only mean one thing. Your eyes go wide in surprise and your lips part as you go to speak. Pain still itching at your throat.
“You heard me…” Of course he heard you! He was right next to you holding your hand. He has enhanced senses. He heard you confess. He heard you say you loved him. You’re still alive, you still feel for him and you confessed! That has to mean. Your face suddenly lights up. Heat pooling both on your cheeks and in your stomach. There is only one explanation. There is only one way you were able to live and still feel this way. Logan loved you back. That doesn’t make sense though! Before you started smelling like flowers the two of you never spoke to one another. Yet he…
He loved you back.
“Yeah, I did. Could have told me sooner to save you the pain. Told ya I’d make sure the guy felt the same.” His hand leaves your face. He turns to grab the chair he had been sitting in before and pulls it over. The chair legs screeching across the floor making you flinch at the noise. Once the chair was next to you he sat down and took your hand in his again. Once more treating you like glass. Though you appreciate it, you feel like glass right now.
Logan lifts your hand up to his face, blue eyes staring straight into your own as his lips find your knuckles. Leaving a soft kiss. You were already blushing before, but you swear you feel like you’re on fire. His lips brushing against your knuckles as he speaks once more. You really aren’t used to hearing him speak so much. “Looks like we got a lot to talk about sweetheart.”
You just silently nod, unable to break your gaze from his. Your hand is lowered, your heart beating out of your chest. You are sure he can hear it. You lick your lips, unable to speak a word out of fear you’ll embarrass yourself further. Logan just chuckles slightly, a deep reverberating one.
“Guess I should say it, not really good with the emotions shit, but I love you too.”
A few blinks and then a small laugh comes out of you. A wince follows after, but the biggest grin spreads on your face. All it took was you almost dying to finally hear those three little words. You’ll never look at gardenias the same again, nor will you be able to stand the sickly sweet smell of a strong floral scent. That doesn’t matter to you though. You obtained something you thought was unattainable. The love of the man you were in love with. The secret love no longer hidden.
You can now understand the look Logan was giving you. It was the same you had been giving him. You both were in love with each other but were unsure how to go about it. All it took was the flowers that no longer were growing inside of you.
You finally say the words, more confident than when you went under. “I love you.”
“Love you too sweetheart.”
#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett fanfiction#wolverine#wolverine x reader#x men#marvel#gn reader#ambiguous version of wolverine#kinda a mix of different versions of him#logan howlett x gn reader#wolverine x gn!reader
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Summary: A speeder ride with you gets Din more worked up than he anticipated. Good thing there's no one around and he could just... take care of his little problem.
Pairing: Din Djarin x fem. reader
Wordcount: 1.5k
Rating: E
Warnings: established relationship, smut (public sex, unprotected sex), feelings, Din is just really horny for his girl, marriage proposals
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The heat was slowly killing you.
You still weren’t sure why Din insisted you had to come with him to visit Cobb Vanth. Not that you didn’t like spending time with Din. Especially one on one time with Grogu staying behind with Peli.
But hourlong rides on a speeder through the hot desert were something you very much did not like.
No matter how close you got to sit in front of Din while he piloted the speeder back towards civilisation. It would be a couple more hours before you would reach the gates of the city and you allowed your head to rest back against Din’s chest, the Beskar of his chest plate surprisingly cool to your heated skin.
You had pulled a linen cloth over your head after getting sunburned so bad once before, only bacta helped, your head and body now shielded from the sun. Maybe you could sleep. Din wouldn’t let you fall from the speeder.
Din on the other hand was slowly dying.
You were constantly wiggling against him, trying to get comfortable. He heard every single sigh you released, could practically hear your thoughts.
He knew how much you hated being out in the heat and on a speeder.
You had told him about the accident you had with your father when you were younger, how only sitting on a speeder now made you uneasy. And he knew he should have left you back in the city. Maybe pay for a more comfortable room at an inn so you could enjoy some relaxing quiet time now that you were all free.
But the selfless part of him wanted to have you with him on this little expedition. He had planned to ask you to marry him last night when you had smiled at him in the moonlight, but the words had been stuck in his throat, overwhelmed with how lucky he was to call you his.
You continued to wiggle in front of him, most likely trying to figure out a position that would be comfortable for the next few hours.
Which was fine. He wanted you comfortable.
The problem was all your wiggling against his crotch made him hard.
See, last night he had many plans for you, plans that involved celebrating you hopefully saying yes to his proposal, but you ended up being so exhausted from the day long travel that he had to carry you to your bed where he watched over you all night instead of making you scream his name.
It was insane to travel back today but Cobb hadn’t even been there for their meet up and you both decided it was better to travel back and then leave the planet.
Somewhere colder.
Somewhere he would finally ask you to marry him.
„Din?“ He heard you ask. He tilted his helmeted head towards you, feeling you shiver as the cold Beskar rubbed over your skin, the linen cloth falling from your face.
„Can you find a spot for a quick break? Somewhere with shade?“ You asked.
„Of course,“ he promised, already looking around, the many sensors in his helmet looking for a spot, finding one only a few minutes later.
You hummed satisfied as you saw the spot he was approaching with the speeder, a mountain formation with some dead trees in front of it.
Din groaned when you pushed your body back against him and he could hear your gasp of surprise when you felt him hard against your ass.
The speeder slowed down until he parked it right under one of the old trees in the shade and he took a deep breath, enjoying the little shade the mountains and trees were providing.
The spot looked like a dried out waterhole.
You closed your eyes, pulling the fabric that covered your face down completely to take a deep breath, your body resting against Din’s.
He brought one of his gloved hands down to rest on your thigh, squeezing it lightly. Biting your lip you pushed your ass against his crotch and you felt him tense for a moment before his other arm wrapped around your middle, pulling you even closer against him.
„All your wiggling made me hard,“ he groaned and a small smile came to your lips.
„And you driving this made me wet,“ you said and his fingers on your thigh tensed.
„What are you gonna do about it?“ You challenged and you could feel the deep breath he took, his chest rising against your back before his hand dropped down between your legs, cupping your clothed pussy.
„I’m gonna fuck you on this speeder. In the middle of the desert,“ he said and you hummed.
„Yes,“ you gasped, his fingers rubbing against you. Your lips parted, your head falling back against his chest.
The next moment he was off the speeder, turning you around so you were sitting with your back towards the handlebar, his hands protectively keeping you up as he stood between your legs. His helmet tilted, looking down at you and you sucked your bottom lip in, letting go off his hands, to take your top off, hearing him groan through the modulator of his helmet as you exposed yourself to him.
He ripped his gloves off, his hands cupping your tits in his big palms.
„Such a good girl for me. Letting me fuck you out in the open, huh?“ He hummed and you nodded eagerly, and he pinched one of your nipples, making you moan.
„Lay down for me,“ he whispered and you slowly let your back lay down on the worn leather of the speeder, your hands coming to rest behind you, holding onto the handlebar.
Din’s hands ran up your thighs until his fingers hooked into the waistband of the pants you were wearing,
„Up,“ he hummed and you obeyed, arching your back first so he could pull your pants and panties down before you raised your legs and he took them all the way off, leaving you laying completely naked in front of him.
„Maker, you’re beautiful,“ he said in awe and you smiled up at him as he stepped closer, his hands parting your legs, his finger slipping through your wet pussy, humming as he found you wet and ready for him.
Biting your bottom lip you watched him as he unbuckled his belt, followed by the sound of his zipper and finally his hand pulled his beautiful cock out of his pants, his fingers closing around his length, pumping it slowly as his helmet tilted down to look at your pussy.
Your eyes closed as he used the tip of his cock to play with your clit, circling it before he slipped it through your pussy, pushing into you just so the tip filled you before he pulled out again, playing with your clit again.
„Always so wet for me,“ he praised and you whined, one of your legs hooking behind him, wanting him inside of you.
„Please Din,“ you whimpered, looking up at him, „Fuck me,“
And finally he did, pushing his cock into you in one deep thrust, pushing the air out of your lungs as he filled you completely.
„Yes….“ You moaned and he slowly began to move at first, letting you stretch around him, getting used to his girth, because no matter how often you took him, it was always a stretch. His hands pulled at your legs so they were laying over his shoulders before he took hold of your hips, fucking into you faster, harder, making you cry out.
„Wanna make you mine,“ he grunted, his fingers digging into your skin as he fucked you harder.
„I’m yours. Always will be,“ you whined, already feeling close.
„Yeah?“ He asked and you nodded.
„Fuck yes,“ he groaned, changing the angle of how he was fucking into you, hitting that one spot that made you see stars, and you moaned his name.
„There it is,“ he said, and you could hear the smile in his voice.
„You gonna be my good girl and cum for me?“ He asked and you only nodded, your lips parting, gasping for air every time his cock hit that spot. It only took another couple of his thrusts for you to cum, body shaking as he fucked you through your orgasm.
„Always get so fucking tight for me. Gonna make me cum,“ he groaned and you nodded.
„Please Din. Please cum inside me. I wanna feel it,“ you whimpered, clenching around him as he continued to fuck into you, a small smile sneaking to your lips as you felt him twitch, inside of you, pumping his cum into you moments later, groaning your name until he stilled, his cock still inside of you.
You let go of your grip around the handlebars when he reached for you, letting him pull you up against his chest, shivering when you felt the cold Beskar against your skin.
Your eyes were closed when you saw him reach for his helmet, pulling it up just so he could kiss you softly, his lips moving over yours.
„Marry me,“ hummed against your lips and your lips parted in surprise, your arms crossing behind his back, wanting to be even closer.
„Yes,“ you smiled, shrieking when he pulled his helmet off to kiss you properly.
#my fic#Din Djarin#Din Djarin x fem. reader#Pedro Pascal#din djarin fanfiction#Mandalorian fanfiction#the mandalorian#pedro pascal fanfiction#fanfiction#fanfic#fan fiction
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omg I js saw your post about how you'll celebrate 200 follows (congratulations you deserve it!) and since you wanna write for other characters also I was thinking of kiyora Jin 🤭 likeee how do you think he'd be in a relationship? or in bed, would he be sweet and loving or kinky.. 🫦
hii love! i took so long to write this oh myyy, i even reached 400 followers and this was supposed to celebrate me hitting 200... but anyways!
also thanks for the request >< i tried another writing style for this one, kind of a headcanons format!
nsfw under the cut! beware ;)
kiyora jin is a perfect mix of sweet & kinky! not too vanilla to get you bored and not too freaky to get you weirded out, just an amazing balance between both of it.
he's the quiet type, you won't listen to his voice too many times a day and when you do it's a calm, collected tone. but he loves to hear you talking.
asks about your day recurrently and wants you to tell him every single detail about it, it doesn't matter how futile it is, he wants to know everything! you may think he's not listening at all when he starts to do something else while you talk but if you stop, he's quick to look at you with the best inquiring face he can make and asks you to keep going.
loves to lay his head on your lap as he listens to your stories, have your fingers combing through his hair as he feels the plushness of your thighs and hears your melodic, excited voice speaking about anything.
kisses your hands a lot, be it their back or your palms, or the tips of your fingers, he loves to feel their warmth against his lips. also likes to kiss your neck, and does it without ceremonies, one moment you'll be babbling about something and suddenly you're stuttering in your words because your boyfriend decided to plant wet kisses on the column of your throat.
speaking of that, he absolutely adores eating you out, especially when you're both on the couch and you're far too deep in your rambles to notice his hand sneaking up your thighs, breath fanning your cheek as he gets closer to your face.
likes to make you cum while still listening to your voice and will ask you to keep talking if you get too overwhelmed by the pleasure, even stopping what he's doing if you can't continue what you were saying, waiting for you to restart so he can go back to savoring you, and oh, he's so good at doing it...
cares for your pleasure above anything because after all, he knows he'll get off on your sounds, so all you have to do is be loud for him and not worry about the rest, he's doing all the work without complaints. that also means you'll surely come at least twice whenever you get intimate with him...
in short, kiyora loves to hear your voice, be it you talking, moaning or babbling incoherent things, he's a sucker for you and although he ironically isn't the best at vocalizing how much he loves you, his actions make it very clear.
#blue lock smut#bllk smut#kiyora jin smut#kiyora smut#blue lock x reader#blue lock headcanons#blue lock fluff#kiyora jin fluff#kiyora fluff#uhhh im not used to writing fluffy so idk what else to put in here...
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Kinktember 2024 - A Retrospective
What. A. Month. I want to start with my gratitude to every single person who read, commented, liked, reblogged, sent asks, discussed, and otherwise interacted in any other possible way with this whole shebang.
To close it all out, I want to give some of my thoughts and peel back the curtain a little on Kinktember.
Some Facts
168,396 words. One hundred and sixty-eight thousand, three hundred and ninety-six words. Averaging at 5,155 words per fic. Wow.
52 unique idols made an appearance and four were featured on more than one occasion; Wonyoung, Karina, Chaewon and Sakura are the four idols who hold that prestige.
Writing time on these pieces varied heavily, while I attempted to constrict myself to writing each fic in a single day, some of them got far beyond initially planned, with the most amount of time being spent on day 18, the IU fic. That one took roughly a total of 20 hours including editing. The quickest was as short as a 2-hour turnaround on days 14 and 15 (Chaewon and Youngeun).
Special Thanks
I’d like to take a moment before giving my personal thoughts to make a special token of gratitude to certain people. While there has been so much support from so many people and I would love to shout everyone out, I’m limiting myself to just a few.
Firstly, to @maemisnippets for the message on 14/07/2024 that was simply “Stand and carry” in reference to Youngeun. That single simple message became the catalyst for this entire Kinktember.
Secondly, to @midnightdancingsol for taking the time to help me make the initial plan for all the days of Kinktember and making many great suggestions that spawned a lot of these fics. Also thank you to everyone else for your suggestions and ideas.
Finally, to @capslocked for a great many things, from discussing details as small as how to format my posts to everything else you did.
Your Questions
Did you set yourself a time to do each one like a challenge to finish each to make it manageable? I gave myself 1 day per fic, whatever time I could spare during that day would be all I had to complete it, I think for around 27 of them, I managed to stick to this schedule. Some of them did spill over into a second day, such as the longer ones like IU.
How the hell did you find the motivation/inspiration to complete the whole thing? Honestly, I found it incredibly fun. I think I often get stuck in bigger projects and my brain gets all foggy, but with all of these fic being quick and snappy, I never got that feeling. Things kept being fresh and exciting and I was pretty much always looking forward to jumping into the next fic.
How did you approach choosing your kinks? / How did you come up with more of the exotic kinks? First I started with the obvious ones, the ones that instantly came to mind, and just threw them into a list. There are some niche ones that I always wanted to write too, but never had a reason to, such as electrophilia and vicarphilia. So even the more ‘exotic’ choices, I was acutely aware of. Then to round it out I did a little research online and pulled together a list of ‘potential’ kinks, which allowed me to fill out the missing slots.
Did you find varying each entry to be easy or difficult? What went into your thought process when it came to setting up each of the entries and the kink involved? Collecting a list of varied kinks was rather easy, at least initially, once I cut that down to the ones I would like to write, I ended up with a few spaces, and those final few became really difficult. But that’s why it’s great to have a community to lean on and ask for ideas. The thought process wasn’t really anything special beyond that. I just created a list and then picked out what I wanted to write, and then decided on idols to feature in each one. This leads nicely onto the image below, I scraped this initial list from a DM with another writer. As you can see, the initial list I put together on day one contained a large number of the ideas that made it into the final cut. This also serves as an answer to the questions on what ideas I decided to drop.
How did you match the featured idol(s) to the kink you have planned? Was it based on their idol personality? Or was it just random? I approached it in a similar way to how I would with most other fics, where if I think an idol’s personality lends itself to the fic, then I will do just that. Of course, it’s impossible to be really accurate and I had to take some creative liberties where needed. Although, on some occasions, I did just throw an idol in there and write her without thinking about her actual personality too much. This usually happens with idols I know less about.
I'm curious how you went about writing some of the more nicher kinks like electrophilia? The simple answer would be to say that I approached it the same way as I did every other fic. None of the kinks required me to do any further research as they’re all kinks that I’m familiar with and am interested in. So in the end I just wrote what felt right.
Was there an idol that you started liking after finishing writing her? For the sake of my own enjoyment/motivation, I only chose to write idols I already liked. Though I would say that writing the Shuhua fic made me a lot more attracted to her than normal. I could also possibly put IU here too, since she’s not really on the forefront of my mind, but became much more so after writing her.
Was there an idol in particular that you 'wanted' to write, but ultimately switched it to a different idol instead? REI. How did I not write REI?! She was in the original draft list where I was going to do some form of bondage piece, but ultimately all the ideas I had for it were absorbed into other fics.
This feels like a good point to share this initial list I completed with Sol while planning. A lot of this remained true to plan, but you may spot some changes.
Now that it's done are you glad you did it or did you end up regretting your decision at some point? Overall, I’m happy and proud and think it was 100% worth it. I relished the challenge and it took me out of my comfort zone. Right now, the only regrets I have are the fics where I know I could have done more/better but I know that I have to accept that I did the best I could in the time constraints. There were times along the way when I had my regrets and wondered if I should even have bothered, particularly when a fic wasn’t well received, but I know now I had just to accept that.
Do you feel more familiar with your style/voice as a writer, if so: what have you discovered? Did you learn anything from this writing-wise? Discovered some new writing styles and possibly improved some? I think the most important thing I took away from this is how important it is to just get words down on the page. I have spent time previously stuck in my own head and grinding to a halt in a fic when trying to make things work. Kinktember simply wouldn’t allow that, so I had to adapt. I learned to be ruthless by deleting the things that didn’t work and pushing on without trying to be overly perfect. I don’t think I developed my ‘voice’ or style too much because I believe it did have to take a backseat at times in order to maintain pace. However, I did get the opportunity to try new things, such as FxF and writing for a gender-neutral reader and also varying the pacing within the fics. Fics such as the Kkura one where I cut together four short, connected scenes really suited the concept and were very fresh to write.
Which fic do you think the idol and the kink are a 'perfect' match? Maybe in terms of reader reception or how quickly you got into the flow state when writing it? Well, I wasn’t sure at the time, but I was told that Karina and dressing up as a maid worked really well. I also think there were a few really obvious combinations that I leaned on, such as spanking Chaewon and having Ryujin and Yeji scissor, or having Minju be a doll. Those are ones that just instantly clicked for me and I thought to myself it was a perfect match. I would say I entered the biggest flow state when writing the Moka x Yunah, I found it incredibly hot, so much so that I finished the fic and then when going to edit, I wrote the second scene. Idk I’m just really down bad for Moka rn. Also, I hear that I really nailed the Yunjin/Kkura/Chaewon dynamic, so probably that one too.
Is there a fic that you would have written regardless but just so happened to be included in kinktember, if that makes sense? I never really know what I’m going to write next until I’m writing it, and I never know if it will be posted until I post it. This makes it hard for me to really guarantee that anything in Kinktember would one day come to fruition. The closest to it would be part 2 of the Minji fic, How Sweet To Be Alone. I always wanted to follow up on it, so being able to add it as a kinktember fic became a bit of a perfect storm. There are other fics too that I always wanted to write, and maybe I would have one day, but kinktember made it a reality.
Would you do kinktember(or any other variant) again? Would you recommend writers to try it at least once? I would say I’m more likely to do it again than I am not, but I can’t guarantee it. As for recommending it to other writers… the honest answer is no. I feel that it goes against so many of a writer's natural instincts. It takes over your life. It consumes your time. You’re forced to work unnaturally hard and you’re forced to reduce your standards. I don’t think it’s healthy for anyone to push to do something like this.
Finally, throughout the month I had so many nice asks that I couldn't respond to, but I read them all and appreciated them all so much.
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above the law. lrh
pairing: luke hemmings x fem! reader
summary: luke's so sick of his assistant, you, talking all the damn time. he finally does something about it.
warnings: 18+ only. minors DNI. smut, thigh-riding, unprotected sex, verbal degradation, rough bj, slightly dubious consent, office sex, cum-swallowing, cursing.
word count: 4,173
a/n: i wrote this originally back in early 2023 as an au using one of my wattpad original characters. through some editing, i've decided to change the pov and post it here! i hope you enjoy x
feedback and constructive criticism welcome. requests are open!
Copyright © 2024 badomensbaby. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.
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"Hemmings, get your head out of your ass for once and finish this goddamn deal."
The curly headed blonde's eyes snap away from the project he's currently in the middle of, various folders scattered amongst his desk, drowning him in useless paperwork all for a stupid fucking merger.
"The fuck do you think I'm doing?" Luke grumbles under his breath, snapping the Bolton file shut and tossing his overly expensive fountain pen on top of the mess he's created. Ashton Irwin, one of three named partners, stands with his arms crossed in the doorway of Luke's corner office, an unamused expression on his face.
"I think you're trying to do all this shit on your own instead of utilizing your associate, that's what I think," the honey blonde scoffs, thick brow raising, "Where's Y/N anyway? You send her across town for your stupid coffee again?"
"No," Luke's quick to defend, though it is the easiest way to get you out of his eyesight for a little while and focus, "I've got her on the Mansfield settlement."
"The Mansfield- that's Mike's case, idiot," Ashton shakes his head, "What's the deal, Luke? You really hate Y/N that much?"
A sigh of exhaustion leaves Luke's lips, head cocking back as he stares at the ceiling. "She's just chatty," he says vaguely, "Can't get a single fuckin' thing done 'cause she won't shut up."
"She's your associate, Luke, stop pawning her off on Mike or he'll swipe her out from under you."
"Good," he forces out a low chuckle, meeting the man's eyes, "He can have her."
"Don't say things you don't mean, you know she's one of the best associates we've got." Luke's eyes roll at his boss' words, sitting up straighter in his desk chair.
"Whatever," he mumbles softly, not willing to admit your brain is undeniably better than half the fucking people he's met. "Can I get back to work now?"
A defeated sigh escapes Ash's lips, "If I don't see Y/N in here working with you I'll make sure to send Calum your way."
"Calum?" the curly haired boy's nose wrinkles, shaking his head, "That's like giving me a fucking puppy, Ash, literally useless."
"Your call." he responds, a little smirk on his lips before pulling Luke's office door shut behind him. A groan leaves Luke's throat at this, the urge to rip every last blonde ringlet from his head at the idea of spending the remaining afternoon going over these stupid files with you.
Regardless of the fact that you’re distracting, which he'll never admit aloud, he shoots you a vague text requiring your presence in his office, no more than twenty minutes from now.
And of course, your dainty little wrist began knocking on the dark wooden door of his office precisely twenty-three minutes after he'd sent the text, only fueling his annoyance. A curt "come in" leaves his lips but his eyes remain on the file, instead of the sinful black dress on your curvy frame.
Tasteful and tightly fit, your fingers instinctively tug at the material resting on your mid thigh, a worrisome look on your features. For as long as you can recall, Luke's always teased you about your wardrobe, especially the bright colors and silken skirts.
"You're late," his tone is flat, hand scribbling away at the paperwork he's nearly memorized already, "I swear to god if you say some bullshit about the elevator again-"
Luke's words die in his throat as he lifts his head, eyes landing on the tight fabric on your frame, hugging every fucking dip and curve of your body. You meet eyes, yours widening, worried you’re going to be lectured again. Was your dress too plain, too boring?
The sweetheart neckline alone almost makes Luke lick his lips, stifling the urge to say something far, far more inappropriate to his associate. "Doesn't matter," the blonde rushes out, "We're gonna be here all night. Preorder from Machi's while you're at it."
"Okay," is all you say, walking closer to his desk, the click of your heels echoing Luke's ears as you bend over, just slightly, grabbing his desk phone and beginning to dial.
After nearly four hours and neither had made a miraculous discovery, a whine of agony leaves your throat, sat across the moderately sized office, snapping yet another useless file folder shut. "Luke,"
"What?" he rasps, tearing his eyes away from the file, meeting your eyes, his own filled with annoyance. "Don't tell me you've got nothing, Y/N."
"There's honestly no reason why Bolton should be merging with Daniels," you sigh out, running a hand through your hair, "Seriously, it's like Pampers merging with Microsoft, they have no interest in one another."
"Christ," Luke mutters under his breath, jaw tensing as you continue to ramble useless information, "Do you ever shut up?"
Mid-sentence, your lips snap shut, a warmth spreading across your cheeks. "Sorry," you respond softly, and Luke almost feels bad for being so curt, but god you never close your fucking mouth. "Did you find anything?"
A huff of air leaves Luke's nose, "Maybe," he says, twirling his fountain pen between his fingers, leg bouncing aimlessly as he scans over the documents for the umpteenth time. "But you keep fucking talking and it's throwing me off."
"Sorry."
"Damnit, Y/N," his curls bounce slightly as he shakes his head, rifling a hand through them, glancing over at your position on the small sofa, dress slightly ridden up your smooth thighs. "Come here, let me show you something."
Hesitantly, you toss the file on your lap onto the cushion, standing and making your way over to Luke's desk, oblivious to the fitted material of your dress riding a bit higher than intended. Luke swallows thickly, attempting to keep focus on the file in his hand. As you lean over slightly to see what Luke's underlined, his eyelids fall shut, the smell of your perfume annihilating his senses.
"But that means-" you cut yourself off, lower lip tucked between your teeth, palms flat on the corner of Luke's desk, "This isn't about combining their companies, is it?"
"No," Luke finally says after a moment, slowly blinking his eyes open, "But we need to convince the judge it is."
"That's impossible, Luke, it's clear they're only doing this for-"
"I know, just figure it out, Y/N."
"That'll take all night," you whine softly, "I'm not sleeping in the office two nights in a row." Luke's teeth grit together at your response, frustrated and fed up with your goddamn attitude.
"If you can't do it I'll find someone who can," he cranes his neck to meet your eyes, narrowed and darkened, "You wanna whine about a few more hours be my guest, but you're not doing it here."
"But-"
"Jesus fucking-" he abandons his pen with a thud, rubbing the palms of his hands against his tired eyes, "I seriously have never met someone so goddamn annoying. All you fucking do is whine and complain and talk my fucking ear off," Luke rambles lowly, "You wanted to be an associate, so be a goddamn associate and shut your fucking mouth before I shut it for you."
You stand upright, embarrassment washing over your features, attempting to remain composed as tears threaten your eyes. It's not a secret that Luke's always harbored some sort of annoyance toward you, but he's never spoken to you in such a vile manner before. You swallow the thick lump in your throat, fists balled at your sides. How dare he say those things to you?
"You're an asshole," you say, voice wavering slightly, "You're always a dick to everyone. Nobody's ever good enough for you. I wanted to be an associate to learn and do what I love, not be talked to like a child."
"The fuck did you say to me?" Luke counters with a raised brow, ringed fingers slowly rolling up the sleeves of his fitted black dress shirt. "I think you forget who you work for. Not Ashton, not Michael, definitely not Jessica. You work for me, Y/N, and if you want to keep your fucking job I think you owe me a goddamn apology."
Luke's eyes flicker between yours and the hemline of your little black dress, the skin of your thighs soft and tempting as he widens the distance between his legs, splayed open. "Come here," he says, a bit quieter this time, though he's fucking seething internally, he can't deny how fucking hot it is talking down to the you. Hesitantly, you step closer, stomach swirling with uneasiness.
"You don't wanna go through those files? Fine," Luke forces out a low chuckle, "But I've got work to do and I'm not gonna let you get in the way of that. So what you're gonna do is sit right here," he taps on his clothed thigh, "Shut your fucking mouth and make yourself cum on my thigh."
"What-"
"You heard me."
"Luke, I-"
"It wasn't a question, Y/N. And so help me god if you complain or make a fucking sound you're more than welcome to leave."
For the first time, you’re speechless. Standing so close to the man you swear hates you with every fiber of his being, asking you to make yourself cum on his thigh, you can't help the clench of your own thighs at the thought. Sure, you’ve had those kinds of thoughts about the tall blonde, but never did you imagine his request.
"So? What'll it be?" Luke asks impatiently, a thick brow raised as he grabs his pen, clicking it profusely, leaning back in his chair.
Wordlessly, and swallowing your pride, you step closer, slowly lifting your leg over the blonde's thigh, his foot firmly planted on the small rug beneath him. His eyes almost widen, as if he didn't expect you to comply, and he stifles a grunt when your warm center meets the fabric of his slacks. He can feel how fucking wet you are through the thin material of your underwear, your dress sliding a bit further up your thighs, almost exposing yourself to him.
"Alright then," Luke clears his throat, leaning forward slightly to grab the Bolton file, relaxing in his desk chair. "Get to it."
With her heart rattling in her chest, you grasp the armrest of Luke's chair to ground yourself, filled to the brim with shame. Are you really going to do this? You can still back out, you don't need to show Luke how pathetic you are, fucking leaking on his slacks just from his crude words. You don't even register the rock of your hips against his thigh until a soft moan slips from your lips, catching Luke's attention, his eyes briefly flickering to you.
And fuck is it hot. Your eyes slowly flutter shut as your hips roll in slow motions, the friction from the fabric forgotten, sensitive clit throbbing from your movements. Luke's jaw tenses, tearing his eyes away from the tempting sight, his cock twitching in his slacks.
Shame and embarrassment are out the window as you near your first orgasm, the explicit images of things you’ve only dreamt of unfolding behind your eyelids. You can only fucking imagine how Luke's fingers would feel inside you, the things he'd say as he's bottoming out inside of your tight heat. And it's suddenly overwhelming as you clench pathetically, throbbing against his thigh and your own legs shaking as you finish. "Fuck-"
Luke's eyes widen, biting hard at the inside of his cheek to keep his composure, the sound of you falling apart on his thigh sending a jolt straight to his aching cock. He wants nothing more than to bend you over his desk and fuck the daylights out of you until you’re drooling and forgetting your own goddamn name.
Reality comes crashing down as your orgasm passes, ragged breaths leaving your parted lips. Did you really just make yourself cum on your boss' thigh? "Luke-"
"Do it again."
"What?" You ask breathlessly, straightening your back, "You- you want me to do it again?"
"What did I say about shutting that pretty mouth of yours, Y/N? If I tell you to do something, do it," he scoffs, acting as though the sight of you cumming didn't turn him on even more, "If you're pathetic enough to do it once I'm sure you'll have no problem doing it again."
Your sensitive clit throbs helplessly as you swallow, white-knuckling the armrest and rocking your hips yet again. The swollen nub continuously brushing Luke's slacks has you choking down whimpers and whines, fearful of Luke's reaction to you making noise. Though, the idea of what he'll do if you don't comply lingers in your hazy mind.
The intermittent bounce of Luke's leg isn't doing you any favors either, little uh uh's leaving your parted lips.
You’re fucking drenched, the thin fabric of your lace underwear doing nothing to keep your arousal from coating Luke's thigh as you roll and rock your hips a bit quicker, your second orgasm creeping up on you, your head tossing back when a low, drawn-out whine leaves your lips, cumming for the second time like a pathetic whore.
And Luke fucking loves every goddamn second of it.
Attempting to calm yourself down from your release, thighs still trembling, Luke tosses the file onto his desk. He hadn't read a damn word of it anyway, not when you’re grinding your pretty little cunt against his thigh like a slut.
Suddenly embarrassed, your cheeks flush a deep crimson shade as you realize what you’ve done. You’ve soaked the fabric of Luke's slacks with your release, your own goddamn boss. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have-"
"Don't say another word," he firmly cuts you off, "Get on your fucking knees."
"Why-"
"I'm honestly so fucking tired of listening to you, Y/N," Luke's tone lowers, a scoff leaving his lips, watching as you scramble to the floor. "Gonna shut you up, make good use of that stupid fucking mouth of yours."
Catching sight of the wet patch on his slacks, he nearly groans, ringed fingers fumbling with his belt buckle in record time, desperate for the release of his achingly hard cock. You seem to catch on, widened doey eyes flickering up to Luke's, your hands neatly folded in your lap. Luke pulls his slacks down just enough to allow his length to be exposed, not wanting to show an ounce of vulnerability to you. You don't deserve a sweet intimate moment, you deserve to be fucking ruined.
"Open your mouth," he grunts, hissing as he grasps the base of his cock, your lips parting slowly, the blonde stepping forward and guiding the tip past your lips. "Wanna see you choke on my cock."
He doesn't give you a moment to register his words before he's thrusting fully into your mouth, tip poking the back of your throat and a choking sound emitting from your lips. You scramble to grasp at the backs of his thighs to keep yourself steady. The sight of your sparkly lipgloss coating his cock is so fucking intoxicating and he wonders why he hadn't thought of it sooner.
Using his hands to grasp your hair quite roughly, he continues to fuck into your mouth at a degrading pace, not allowing you to adjust to the forceful movements. Choking and gagging sounds fill the otherwise quiet room, spit dribbling from your lips. "Yeah, you like choking on my cock, Y/N? So much better than hearing you fuckin' talk."
Your nails dig into the fabric of his pants, a grunt leaving Luke's lips as his hips continue thrusting his cock into your mouth. You can barely take all of him, the base nearly untouched. "All you're fuckin' good for, hm?"
And suddenly he's removing himself from your mouth, chest heaving from how fucking wrecked you already look, the small tears pooling your waterline smudging the mascara you'd put on. "As much as I wanna watch you swallow for me," he heaves out, "I wanna feel that pretty fuckin' pussy of yours."
A pathetic whimper leaves your lips, clenching around nothing as you remain on your knees before him, a string of saliva connecting your swollen lips and the reddened, aching tip of Luke's cock. "You want me inside you?" he asks.
You have no words, honestly, the burn left behind in your throat from Luke's forceful thrusts halts you from speaking. Instead, you nod. "No, I want to hear you fuckin' say it, Y/N. I'm not an asshole."
"Yes," you weakly respond, "I want you."
"Good. Take that fuckin' dress off while you're at it."
Your shaky and frail fingers grasp the hemline of your dress hesitantly, eyes flickering between his leaking cock and his firm gaze, pulling the fitted material over your head and tossing it aside. Now sat in nothing but a pair of soaked, white lace panties and your heels, Luke's eyes fall on your bare breasts. "So fuckin' pretty."
"Luke-" you whimper quietly.
"Shut up," his hands reach beneath your arms, pulling you to your feet. Luke reaches around you, large hand swiping the array of documents off of his desk, sending them to the floor with a thud. You release a soft gasp when your bare backside meets the cool wooden desk, "Can't say I've never thought about this."
Luke's hands fall to your hips, gripping the skin roughly, and guiding you down until your back is flush with the desk, legs spread pathetically, displaying your clothed core to him. "God, you're so fucking soaked it's pathetic," he laughs lowly, shaking his head, and trailing a finger along the dampened material, coated in your previous orgasms and current arousal. He sends a soft smack with the back of his hand to your swollen clit, causing a whimper to leave your lips. "You'll let me have you any way I want, huh?"
"Luke-"
"Don't talk, I already know the answer," he raises your legs so your heels are resting on the edge of the desk, fingers ghosting the inside of your thighs teasingly, "Because here you are, spread out on my fucking desk like the whore you are."
"Please-"
"God, you just can't listen, huh?" his hands retreat from your skin, fumbling with his necktie, folding it into a neat little square. "I said I don't wanna hear you, Y/N." leaning over you, the tip of his cock pressing against your clothed core, he forces the folded tie between your lips, gagging you. "There, much better."
Luke works quickly to pull the pathetic excuse for underwear down your legs, tossing them alongside your dress on the floor. His cock twitches at the sight of you, fucking glistening and leaking just for him. He trails two fingers up your wetness, slicking his cock with your arousal, and prodding the tip against you. "Look at me," he says, hovering over you, hands on either side of your head. Hesitantly, you meet his eyes, your own widening, "Wanna watch you take my fucking cock."
You look so fucking pretty all gagged up for him. Running his tongue along his lower lip, he roughly juts his hips forward, instantly bottoming out and a muffled scream leaves your lips at the stretch. The tears that brimmed your eyes previously begin to fall, feeling so full, "Fuck," he hums lowly.
He rocks his hips a few times, watching as your eyes practically roll back into your head. And god does that make him so fucking proud, staring at you as drool slowly dribbles from yourr lips. He halts, roughly tugging the tie from your mouth, fingers gathering the spit and shoving it between your lips. "Don't be messy," he tuts, before placing the tie back, "Already fuckin' droolin' like a whore and I'm barely getting started."
Luke retracts his cock, hands grasping at your hips and flipping your body, the sound of your stomach colliding with the wooden desk echoing through the room. "I don't wanna look at you," he says, palming the skin of your backside before smacking the smooth flesh. He realigns himself with your entrance, one hand splayed on your bare back to hold you in place.
Roughly thrusting inside once again, the moans and muffled choked sobs barely reach Luke's ears, too fucking entranced by the feeling of your tight little cunt taking him so well. "This," he rocks his hips forcefully, "Is fuckin' mine. Anytime I goddamn want it, you're gonna give it to me."
You scramble to grab the opposite edge of Luke's desk, white knuckling it as he forcefully pounds into you, so fucking deep and quick you can barely breathe. "Such a tight fuckin' cunt," he groans, fingernails scraping along your back, "Taking my cock like a good fuckin' slut."
Instinctively you clench around him, eliciting a deep borderline growl from Luke's throat, hand previously raking down your back finding your hair, fisting the strands between his fingers and yanking you backwards until you’re halfway to his chest. You rest your palms flat on the desk, eyes pinched shut in pleasure while he continues fucking into you at an unruly pace.
"Clench again for me," he moans out, feeling the muscles in his stomach tighten, his orgasm slowly beginning to build. You comply, your thighs trembling, clenching as hard as you can. "Fuckin' god," Luke tosses his head back, eyelids fluttering shut in pure bliss.
You choke out another moan around the tie in your mouth, unable to warn the blonde of your third orgasm that's quickly approaching as he continuously pokes the perfect spot so fucking deep inside you’re nearly a drooling mess. The hand not entangled in your hair grips one of your breasts roughly, sending you over the edge in a series of muffled cries. Tears stream down your cheeks, cunt tightening around Luke yet again, the blonde hissing as he feels your release coat his cock, the slick sound of his thrusts growing louder.
"Fuckin' milkin' my cock like a whore," he spits out, grip tightening on your hair as he pulls you closer, thrusting into you impossibly harder. You can't fucking think, you’re a dizzy mess and can hardly form a thought. You can't even feel the drool pooling from the edges of your lips. "Gonna fill up that sweet little cunt of yours and make you mine."
Luke pulls you flush to his chest, your head lolling against his shoulder. Though he isn't one for kissing, he doesn't hesitate to graze his teeth against your exposed neck, sinking them into the supple flesh as his hips begin to stutter, groaning against your neck as he releases inside. You wince at the rough bite on your neck but you’re too spent to care, leaning fully against him as he rocks through his orgasm.
You’re in a daze when he pulls out of you, nearly falling against the desk, the blonde quickly reaching for you to keep you upright. Though he's smug and feeling overly satisfied for ruining you, a swirl in his stomach tells him he needs to make sure you’re alright. He pulls the tie from your mouth, not commenting on the drool spilled from your lips. "Y'okay?"
You can't fucking speak.
Luke's brows furrow with worry, hand delicately grasping your jaw and searching your hazy eyes. Pupils blown out just like his, fresh tears lingering on your cheeks. "Oh, baby," the pet name falls from his lips effortlessly, "C'mon."
Tucking his softening cock into his pants and guiding you away from his desk and towards the couch, he plucks your heels from your feet. Though he'd never in a million years consider aftercare, he's stripping his button down from his broadened frame and slipping your arms inside, buttoning it to cover your exposed body. "Luke," you toss your head back onto the plush couch.
"Hm?" he hums softly.
"I need to- need to clean up," you rasp quietly, a hint of a blush on your cheeks, head reeling from the soreness between your thighs.
"That's what m'here for," he coos sweetly, though the smirk of his lips has you swallowing thickly. His ringed hands trail along your warm and flushed skin, parting your trembling thighs, the sight of his release slowly dribbling out of your sweet cunt nearly has his cock stiffening in his slacks again. "Mm, such a pretty wrecked little pussy."
A gasp leaves your lips as he leans forward, nose brushing your lower stomach, tongue gathering his cum from your sensitive folds. Lapping up every fucking drop, Luke straightens himself out, reaching a hand towards your swollen lips and parting them with his thumb. You’re beyond confused as he tightly grips your jaw, before spitting the contents into your own mouth. Swiping any remnants from his own lips, he narrows his eyes. "Fuckin' swallow."
Clasping your pretty lips shut, you comply, feeling a stir in your stomach when your eyes meet, and swallow.
"My good fuckin' girl."
#luke hemmings imagine#luke hemmings x reader#luke hemmings x y/n#luke hemmings fanfic#luke hemmings x you#luke hemmings smut#5sos smut#5sos fanfic#5sos imagine#5sos x reader#smut
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hii !! can u make a story of reader walking into matt’s room while he’s streaming n kisses him not knowing he’s streaming ? IDK IF YOU’VE ALR DONE SMTH LIKE THIS BUT
BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE, BEAUTIFUL PROBLEMS. ( matt sturniolo. )
warnings › fluff, gamer matt lmao, use of y/n, NOT PROOFREAD.
author’s note › I LOVE THIS REQ AW. also i’m still trying out formats for my posts so ignore if every single one looks different oops. lowkey also got a little carried away w this one Sorry...
› all that could be heard from matt’s headphones were the sounds that his game elicited, while also occasionally hearing some of the chat notifications that appeared on one of the screens of the setup.
his headphones were very soundproof, just to help him focus on his game a bit more. this was one of the rare occasions he decided to stream, just because he hadn’t in a while and because chris brought up the idea of revisiting the concept. he agreed, and it turned out to be an amazing idea– a lot of people, more than usual, were in the stream watching matt and chris play.
their cameras were on, the green light on matt’s pc indicating the live was ongoing and that his camera was on, showing a smiley yet concentrated matt who was biting down on his bottom lip unconsciously, raising his voice at chris for something fortnite related you couldn’t quite understand– all you heard was a loud noise coming from his room as you walked through the door.
you furrowed your brows, dropping your keys on the counter of the kitchen before also setting down your purse and making your way to the room matt was currently playing in. you were so occupied running errands for the day all you wanted to do was get home to your boyfriend and his embrace.
the thought of him holding you in his arms is what kept you entertained all day, up until this moment when you mindlessly knocked softly on the door despite it being the slightest bit open, only enough for some light to come through but not enough to see what was going on.
no answer.
you thought nothing of it, pushing the door open with a small, tired sigh as you kicked your shoes off, a gentle smile appearing on your face at the sight of your boyfriend sat up playing on his computer, which wasn’t unusual. you assumed his headphones were what deafened the knocks to him.
matt was still concentrated on the game, commenting something to chris about helping him about because he was getting attacked, the noise coming from the keyboard echoing throughout the entirety of the room.
being so wrapped up in the game with his brother, he hadn’t even noticed your presence in the room, even when your shoes made a fairly loud noise, and you throwing your jacket on the lounge chair as you entered could’ve also been a dead giveaway, though you thought nothing much of it– he was always playing with his brother, and you could very faintly hear chris’s voice echoing from his headphones.
you made your way over to him, whispering a soft “hi baby,” then pressing a kiss to his cheek, not really wanting to interrupt his game, your plans were to simply take a quick shower before he could even finish the game so you could lay down with him after the long day that you had to endure, but all that quickly got shut down as matt instantly looked up at you.
“hi, we’re–” he started to speak, unsure of what to do, already hearing the blast of messages that were being sent through the chat. he mentally face palmed for not telling you he was planning on streaming today– it had completely slipped his mind, and he was about to pay the price.
it wasn’t like he didn’t want you in his public life, he would love for that to happen. he wanted to show you off and tell everyone that he was in a happy relationship with the love of his life– and he had been for a while, and that they knew nothing of it.
though there was already an incredible amount of situationship allegations and speculation surrounding the two of you– nothing was ever confirmed or denied, so people were really unsure of what your status was. you were never really seen publicly with matt, both of you deciding that would be the smartest decision you could probably make for the sake of your relationship’s privacy. there were a few leaked photos of you hanging out together at influencer parties, but nothing that were to give out any hints regarding your relationship.
“hey chris.” you waved casually to the camera, seeing chris’s face onscreen. though he seemed, odd. a smirk was on his lips as he attempted to hold in a laugh while he shook his head slowly, showing disappointment towards matt.
matt cleared his throat, his gaze making its way back up at you. “we’re– uh, streaming.” he let out a small chuckle.
your heart dropped, your face immediately showing off your sense of panic as you stepped back from the frame, no longer being visible to the camera, your mouth opening as if you were to speak but no words were coming out, except a frantic, yet soft “oh.”
matt chuckled once again. this definitely wasn’t the way he wanted to do it, but oh well, the opportunity already presented itself, so why not take advantage of it?
he pulled you back into frame, guiding you to sit on his lap so you were both visible to the camera now. his hands were on your hips, though that wasn’t visible to the camera, it was more of an act of reassurance towards you, trying to give an unspoken hint that it was okay.
“well, this is my beautiful girlfriend, y/n.” he spoke in a joyous tone, a small smile creeping onto his lips as he looked at you with a certain look that was everything the chat was talking about, getting bombarded with comments along the lines of “OH MY GOD??” “THE WAY HE LOOKS AT HER :((” “BRB SOBBING.”
“and you already know my boyfriend matt.” you let out the softest laugh. you were definitely nervous, but turning slightly and looking into matt’s eyes, you were sure you were going to be fine, that it was okay.
the chat confirmed your suspicions, surprisingly everyone was being incredibly normal, gushing over the two of you. there were people already asking for couples content, and some others just telling you they were jealous in the nicest way possible.
“i can’t believe nick missed this.” chris finally intervened with a loud laugh. “kid would’ve had a field day with this one.”
you immediately turned to look at your boyfriend who was already staring at you in slight disbelief at your calm reaction to all of this, while still processing the fact that you just hard launched your relationship on a fortnite stream with his brother.
“can you kick someone off a stream?” you joked, trying to hold back the laugh that was threatening to leave your lips.
#lucvly#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x you#christopher sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo imagine#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo smut#sturniolo edit#chris sturniolo smut
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Re-skimmed through a bunch of Dune Messiah last night because why not and now I am having thoughts:
The thing that sticks with me most is the tone. It's melancholy, it's eerie, it's unsettled and weird. Cannot think of a more pitch-perfect director for it than Denis Villeneuve. He's gonna nail it.
There is...not that much...actual story? Denis has referred to it in interviews as "a small book" and I'm like my guy it is 350 pages. But there are actually not that many plot beats. It's just that every. single. scene. is WILDLY overwritten. The real challenge of adapting Dune is not the giant worms or the dense complicated worldbuilding or the fact that actors have to say the name "Duncan Idaho" repeatedly with a straight face. It's that there are pages and pages and PAGES of internal monologue that have to be externalized somehow for film.
After a re-skim my gut instinct for "how much story goes in a feature film" is that if you just wrote out the dialogue and action that happens in every scene in the book in screenplay format you'd end up with...maybe about an hour of material? Which is great, actually, because it means there is room to add stuff. Like a whole new independent plotline for Chani if they decide to do that.
It may seem insane to add things to an adaptation of what's notoriously one of the wordiest series in classic sci-fi but it's worth remembering that they added quite a bit to Dune Part Two. Most of the first hour of the movie--almost everything before the worm ride except for Jessica drinking the Water of Life--is stuff that isn't in the book. And it's the best part of the movie essential to making the movie work as well as it does. Yes, they also cut elements from both parts (the dinner scene, the whole plotline where Gurney thinks Jessica is a Harkonnen spy, Thufir Hawat's fate, Leto II the Elder, murder toddler Alia) but I understand why each of those elements was cut or changed in the service of cinematic storytelling.
There's an interview (can't remember which one) with Jon Spaihts, the other co-writer of the scripts along with Denis, where he talks about how Dune is like a stage play, with so many of what would be the big action set pieces happening off-page. I kept thinking about that comparison while reviewing Dune Messiah because in addition to the scenes that do exist being wordy and internal as fuck, an absolutely insane list of major events/reveals/emotionally significant moments happen off-page. The list of things that we don't actually see in the main action of the story, that we're only told about after they happen, includes:
Chani finding out Irulan has been secretly dosing her with birth control for YEARS
People trying to capture a sandworm and take it off planet
Chani and Paul finding out Chani is pregnant after 12 years of trying to conceive
Paul flying an ornithopter carrying his extremely-about-to-go-into-labor partner while blind
CHANI DYING (first time reading I did NOT know this was coming and damn near threw my Kindle across the room at the way the information was delivered)
Alia executing a bunch of people including a Bene Gesserit Reverend Mother
Paul walking into the desert at the end
You could add all these moments into a scene-for-scene film adaptation of the book and probably still have room to add more material.
The other thing that jumps out is that Paul doesn't really...govern...much. Like there's this whole subgenre of post-Dune/Dune Messiah-era fic that's just some combination of Paul, Chani, Irulan and sometimes Feyd traipsing around the palace having feelings while vague politics happens in the background, but I forgot that Dune Messiah is actually kinda like that??
There is a whole thread of Paul feeling kind of abstractly bad about being Space Hitler but he does not, in fact, actually do anything about it. And like yes both bureaucracies and religious movements can grow to have a life of their own that seems beyond the control of any one person. But also my dude you are the Emperor of the Known Universe. Someone is signing those space checks for the Endless War budget. You are not powerless here.
The one thing that really, clearly drives Paul to actively do things in the plot is not feeling guilty about having unleashed catastrophic religious war on the universe. It is protecting his family. Chani, Alia, his unborn children, and you could probably throw in Duncan by the end. That is what motivates him to act at key moments, and to want to hold on to power. And hey, y'know, if I'd experienced almost everyone I'd ever known getting murdered in a single night, I would probably get a bit intense about that too! It makes sense from a character point of view!
I'm very curious to see how these threads interweave with each other in the film, because the Villeneuve films put a lot of emphasis on Paul's agency and the fact that he may be constrained by shitty circumstances thousands of years in the making, but he still makes choices within that context. I can't see the narrative allowing film!Paul to get away with the same Poor Little Dictator routine as in the book. There are a few ways they could play this but I think the most interesting one is kinda the way they started going at the end of Part Two. Which is that as soon as you start reaching for that kind of power, then power becomes its own end and you will end up doing increasingly horrific things to maintain it. I think it would be quite interesting if the film shows us Paul not just being like "woe is me" but actively choosing to make the world worse because his trauma-driven fear of losing the people he loves makes him cling ever more desperately to power for its own sake.
If they went this route I think it would make Paul's decision at the end hit even harder. FWIW I actually really like Paul walking off into the desert at the end of the book. I think it brings things full circle with his relationship to the Fremen and creates this beautiful arc going back to the duel with Jamis. He first won a place among the Fremen through respecting their customs even though he really did not want to fight and kill someone he had no beef with. And by respecting the Fremen custom of the blind walking off into the desert, he proves himself to be fully Fremen and protects his children not by making them heirs to the throne but by making them Fremen.
And yeah, to a modern audience here on Earth it can look like "Paul conveniently fucks off and doesn't have to raise his newly-motherless children." And we can have a whole discussion about the unexamined ableism of the idea of someone who's gone blind voluntarily choosing death so as to "not be a burden" on their community. But neither of those readings is really the point here. Within the logic of Fremen cultural values, where the survival of the group as a whole is more important than the life of any one individual ("your water belongs to the tribe" etc.) Paul's choice is a willing and intentional self-sacrifice (see also: fedaykin) that wins him huge respect. There's a line in the book about Paul that's like "He would be one of them forever now" and damn if that didn't give me shivers. Like!! The political-symbolic implications!!! Which maybe I'm particularly attuned to because I just wrote a whole fic about what does it mean for an outsider to become Fremen but hmm something something Paul's final* act not being an exercise of Imperial power but an expression of kinship with an oppressed group and that being the thing that's needed to keep his family safe even if he is not physically present with them...IT IS RICH SYMBOLIC TERRITORY.
(*Yes yes I know about events in the next book. Shush.)
This kind of stuff is why I tend to think Chani may start out in a very different place in the story but the end will still be pretty close to what's in the book. It's too thematically powerful and tragic to go any other way.
But also...if they change things around enough that she is still alive at the end of the movie...I won't be sad about it.
#dune#dune messiah#story structure#adaptation#paul atreides#chani kynes#umm#dune messiah spoilers#i guess??#is this really necessarily for a 55 year old book idk
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schlatt x single mom!reader part 1 (aside from my post about how you met)
(this will be going up on my ao3 once it's ready, i'll probably edit it and format it differently and stuff so don't be surprised if it's a lil different but tumblr gets the first version)
(if anyone has an idea for a title for this series lmk pls eek)
even though daphne’s alarm clock went off at the same time every morning with the same exact song like, well… clockwork, it still infuriated you to no end. having to wake up to “crazy frog” every damn day since you made the mistake of showing it to her almost a year ago now was bad, but what was worse was how for the past few weeks, you would stub your toe or shin or whatever it may be on one of the dozens of packed up boxes strewn about the cramped studio apartment you shared with your daughter on your way to turning off the godforsaken hello kitty alarm clock. if it weren’t so special to the both of you, you would have chucked it out of one of the two tiny windows you had ages ago.
“up, daphydil. we gotta be at the cafe in 20, opening’s in 2 hours. now, c’mon girlie,” you gently coaxed her out of bed. she was small for a five-year-old, golden brown ringlets messily framing her face and hanging in front of her forever wild eyes. a soft smile played at your lips as you stroked her hair. “there’s my beautiful girl. alright, can you be ready in 10 minutes? i bet you can’t. i bet you can’t so much that if you are ready to go in 10 minutes, shoes and everything, i’ll let you ride on my back all the way to the store. does that sound good?” daphne grinned mischievously and nodded.
“can i have a muffin for breakfast at the store?” she asked.
must be a good day, you thought. she’s talking.
“of course, bear. i’ll make the blueberry ones like you like for both of us, how ‘bout that?”
“okay. stop taking up my 10 minutes, please.”
you laughed and rose off her bed. “that’s fair. the clock starts now, daph, gogogo!” you set a timer on your phone and chuckled to yourself again as she raced to her pile of boxes to pick out an outfit. she had the most eccentric taste for a kindergartener. well, she would be in kindergarten. you had yet to find a school that worked for her— sure, she had only tried preschools, but the amount of other kids there combined with the lack of your presence sent her into a shutdown for almost a week each time. so you decided to homeschool her. school didn’t start for another week, so you still had time to get things sorted. but it was going to be extremely challenging, running the cafe, teaching her, getting moved into the new apartment, and all the other stuff you had to attend to.
for a split second as you walked back over to your own pile of clothes, the man from yesterday flashed through your mind. you couldn’t stop yourself from going over his features while you changed into working clothes; something about him made you want to give him a chance. and so, before you knew it, you were responding to his “thanks again” text he had sent once you parted ways.
you: schlatt. if you’re free, meet us at this address for breakfast. would love to talk. if not, we’re there all day. thanks.
with that, you sent him the location of the store and chucked your phone onto the bed, hissing in regret and running a hand through your hair. the embarrassment was short lived, though, as almost immediately your phone dinged with a response.
jesus, eager much?
but being the hypocrite that you are, you dove for the phone, just as excited as he was.
schlatt: hey!! yeah, sure, i can be there in maybe an hour. see you then!
taking deep breaths, you slid your phone into your back pocket and strapped on your work boots, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder.
“i’m ready.”
“fuck!! oh, jesus, daph, i’m sorry,” you panted. “you scared the shit out of me, girl, you walk too quiet. alright, let me grab a few last things and we’ll go.” she nodded, smiling, and stepped out of your way. after you had locked the door behind you both, she raised her arms as if asking to be picked up and made a grabbing motion. with a dramatic sigh and a roll of your eyes, you squatted down and helped daphne climb on top of your back. once she was settled, you began the trek down the street to the cafe.
you wished more than anything you could see the world through daphne’s eyes. to her, pigeons were fascinating creatures that she could spew off facts about for hours. she was so full of knowledge and so willing to share it; it was how she showed her love. to her, a piece of trash on the ground could be turned into an accessory for a hat, or a decoration, or whatever it may be. she was endlessly creative and resourceful (where she got that from, you had no idea). to her, her mother was a hero. and, god, how you envied her ability to see you that way.
“we’re here!” you announced as you turned the key in the lock and stepped into the dark building. flicking on the lights, you leaned down and let daphne hop off your shoulders. “smells like coffee.”
“i hate the smell of coffee,” daphne mumbled.
“me too, bear. now, c’mon, we gotta get going!! we’re opening soon!”
she began her routine of sweeping the dining area first, and then the kitchen, and then the bathrooms while you turned on all the machines and let a few employees in the back entrance to help start everything up. opening always goes quicker than closing, so it wasn’t long before you opened the doors and let the regulars in.
but among them was schlatt. somehow you had forgotten he was coming, and daphne lit up when she saw him walk in.
“funny man!” she yelled, dropping the tongs she was holding and sprinting around to meet his fistbump from her station at the muffin display.
“daph!! now i gotta wash those again,” you grumbled. “hey, schlatt.” you sheepishly finished wiping down the counter and scanned the store for any customers. luckily, it was saturday, so there were only a few people already seated and enjoying their food; you had some time to talk before the next rush came in.
“child labor, y/n?? really?” he joked, eyeing the menu above you.
“it’s not child labor if you went through labor to have the child,” daphne spoke, repeating a phrase you had said in passing once to a friend.
“oh my god!! daphy, please, can you go make sure the mug shelf is all straight?”
she nodded, glancing at schlatt one last time before she left. he was trying to hold in his laughter, but let out a sputtering chuckle once she walked away.
you closed your eyes and took a breath before speaking. “i’m so sorry. i swear i said that once. like, genuinely one time and she says that whenever someone comments on her working. she’s too smart for her own good, i don’t know what to do with her.”
“you know, you do an awful lot of apologizing when there’s nothing really to be sorry for. she’s hilarious, from what i’ve seen. why do you always try to defend her?”
your face went hot and you stammered a few times. “buy me a drink first, damn, dude…” with a huff, you went back to scrubbing the spotless counter.
“i- fuck. i’m sorry. that’s too much. let me start over, please?” he leaned in a bit, resting his elbow on the surface between you. when you gave him a short nod, he sighed a bit with relief and nodded his head towards a blueberry muffin. “can i get one of those?”
you couldn’t help but grin at his choice of pastry as you packaged it. “anything to drink?”
“what’s your coffee order?”
“three cans of diet coke. i don’t drink that shit,” you tried to jest but it sounded bitter.
he blinked a few times and nodded. “good, me neither. i was willing to, though, let that be known.”
with a laugh, you replied, “noted. here, take a seat and i’ll bring you a lemonade? daph’s idea, she thought it would be refreshing to keep in stock for the heathens like us who don’t drink bean juice.”
“sounds good. i’ll be over here,” he called as he walked towards a table hidden away in the corner. you couldn’t stop smiling to yourself as you poured two lemonades, thanking the stars above you remembered to actually make some this morning. usually nobody ordered any until the afternoon.
setting the two glasses on the table as you slid into the seat across from him, you shot one final glance at your assistant manager, who was running the counter while you took a few minutes to talk with schlatt. luckily, she was too busy with a customer asking for a refill to make a face at you and your new potential suitor.
“holy shit, that’s fancy lemonade. is that mint on top?”
“yeah, daph says it ‘enhances the flavor profile,’ or some shit. she likes food network a lot.”
he eyed the green sprig and took a cautious sip, eyebrows raising once he made a decision on the flavor. “she’s really smart, man. i never woulda thought of this. how old is she?”
“five. she has autism; she’s always been crazy genius. i don’t know how to keep up with her, she’s already smarter than me,” you chuckled quietly. “she’s so creative, too. i can’t find a school good enough to teach her things, she has a hard time being away from me and it’s just a whole thing. speak of the devil, actually.” daphne was skipping across the dining area and sat down in the seat next to you. “hey, bear!”
“i’m not a devil, mama.”
“it’s an expression, baby. remember? like, ‘easy as pie?’”
“oh yeah. because we tried to make pie and it went really bad.”
you sighed, smiling, and rested your head in your hands. “yes, bear. ‘speak of the devil’ just means, ‘here comes the person we were just talking about!’”
daphne pulled out a notebook from her apron pouch and took a pen from your shirt pocket to write down her new phrase.
“what’s that?” schlatt asked her. “you’re five and you know how to write??” you opened your mouth to tell him, but daphne beat you to it.
“i like to write things down so i can talk better.”
“i think you talk just fine, personally.”
both of you flicked your eyes up to squint at him, curling your mouths in the same look of confusion and intrigue.
“oh my god, you two look identical making that face, that’s hilarious,” he mumbled through a mouthful of muffin. at the same time, daphne and you side-eyed each other and started laughing.
“mama says i talk just fine too, but nobody else ever did. now two people think i talk good. maybe you could be my dad,” she wondered aloud. you choked on your lemonade and slammed it back onto the table, spilling some onto the old, damaged wood.
“okay, daph. can you go get me some paper towels from the back to clean this up and then go see if anyone needs help putting sprinkles on the donuts?”
“i already looked, the donuts are done. but the syrups need refilling.”
“okay, go do that, bear.”
“mhm.”
she skipped away, oblivious to what she had just started, and returned a moment later with a roll of towels to clean up. it was silent until she left for the second time.
“you’re gonna trust a five-year-old to refill syrup bottles?”
“she’s actually steadier than i am. she came up with, like, a whole system, it’s really cool. and she’s not by herself, we have a highschooler that’s working with us for the summer, she helps her.”
thank god that’s the first thing he brought up.
“mm. listen, i understand how kids are, we don’t have to talk about what she just…”
“yeah. thanks. she’s, um… she just kinda says what’s on her mind; i can’t stop her.”
“i get it. so, uh,” he rotated his now half-empty glass a few times as he went over what to say in his mind. “why does your nametag say ‘owner?’”
with a glance down at your badge, you slunk down in your chair. “this is my parents’ store. they always wanted me to take over, and i kind of didn’t have a choice after mom fell down the stairs over there. they used to live above the cafe, now they’re in a home and i have to run this dump. at least i get to move out of my studio and into this place, though. if i can ever find the time to actually get my stuff from one place to another.” you sounded more and more dejected as you went on, unable to meet his gaze.
“i can help you move,” schlatt offered smoothly. you smiled, but shook your head.
“nah, man, we have a lot of stuff. it’d be too much to ask of you.”
“shut the fuck up, it’s fine. look, how about we make a trade? i’ll help you move if you let me take you out on a date.”
you blinked a few times in confusion as your face heated up. “m-maybe, dude. i dunno. look, we’re in a rush now, i’ve gotta get behind the counter and try to help my employees get this under control. i’ll come back in a bit.” you gestured to the line that was almost out the door and rose from your seat.
“lemme help!”
his words stopped you in your tracks. “what??”
“let me help,” he repeated, “it’s clear you need it, you’ve got three guys besides you and one of them is a toddler.”
he had a point. flustered, you waved for him to follow you. “just put on an apron and wash your hands.”
the rush of patrons took about an hour to deal with; they just kept coming. schlatt handled everything with grace, upselling people on pastries when they only ordered a coffee and making casual conversation with the usual customers that came in to ask about you and your family.
he was so much better at dealing with chaos than you thought he would be. for some reason, you were expecting him to dip out as soon as he could. it was hard to picture him wanting to hang around after learning about you and how complicated you were. but for some unknown reason, he stayed. you watched him with a soft smile on your face as he undid his apron and hung it back up before stepping around to the other side of the counter.
“wasn’t so bad,” he teased, flicking his head towards the lemonade dispensers. “gimme another one of those.” you pushed the hand that was extending a credit card towards you away and turned around to grab a to-go cup.
“you kickin’ me out?” he asked, holding a hand to his chest in mock offense.
“i can’t work right with you here. need to think. so, i guess, just… show up here at 8 tonight wearing something nice and ready to take me somewhere. you’re gonna help me move my stuff this weekend.” unable to look him in the eyes as your face burned, you handed him the drink and quickly crossed your arms when he took it.
“i am, huh?” he was grinning as he took the straw between his teeth.
“yes.” you swept some crumbs away with your foot and glanced at him for a split second.
“alright, y/n. you like steak?”
“i guess. haven’t had it in years, it’s too expensive…” you mumbled.
“perfect. i’ll see you at 8, toots. bye, daphne!” he waved to the girl who was sitting at the table with an elderly woman sketching something in her notebook.
“bye, funny man!” she called back, not looking up from her drawing. the woman across from her looked shocked at her words.
“bye, schlatt!” you waited until he was down the street before jumping up and down a few times and pumping your fists in the air.
“got a date?” the woman watching daphne asked across the nearly empty store.
“uhm. yeah, actually, i do, mrs. reid,” you stuttered.
“need me to watch daphne for you?”
“yeah, that would be super helpful, actually.” you brought her a new cup of tea and traded it for her old one. “on the house.”
“she’s been talking a lot more.”
running one hand through your hair, you sighed and sat down next to daphne. “yeah, we’ve been working on it a lot. something about schlatt makes her open up. anything to say, bear?”
she just stuck her tongue out in concentration and continued drawing pigeons.
“that’s okay, daphy. you don’t ever have to talk if you don’t want to.” with a gentle pet of her head, you stood up and walked back behind the counter to help a customer that had just come in. you were unable to stop yourself from running over the events of the morning in your head, focusing on how schlatt would smile at you and how he seemed genuinely interested in what you had to say.
you just have to be careful, you kept telling yourself. don’t get your hopes up.
it was too late. you couldn’t help it; your hopes were high. he made you feel… normal again. it had been almost six years since you felt that way. now you were just praying it would last, even if for only a night.
#x reader#jschlatt x reader#schlatt x reader#jschlatt smut#schlatt smut#jschlatt x you#schlatt x you#jschlatt fluff#schlatt fluff
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domesticity with ryōmen sukuna
— note + warnings: my lil' head is full of him; headcanons but not rlly formatted like them idk; modern! au; disgusting domestic fluff; spicy moments here and there ( feat. brief mentions of nudity, pet names, degradation, praise, just some basic intimacy yo ); mentions of food; brief mentions of alcohol and tobacco; fem! ( wife! ) reader; long post ( almost 1.5k and i still wanted to write more but i need to get ready for class ).
every now and then, he comes home with burdened hands; a thickly arranged bouquet, your favourite pastry from that bakery standing a pesky distance away from your home, little bag with lace and frills and silk neatly folded at its bottom. he adores your reaction — the way your eyes are rendered overwhelmed with shimmer the moment you see him and whatever saccharine little thing he decided to please your wits with that day. the way you cling onto him, your muscles nearly aching from a sense of gratitude and excitement, or merely tenderness on the days you are fatigued and just quietly thankful. it's so fun to see you pleased with such a gesture; so silly, so endearing.
his armchair is his throne, and your throne is his lap. at times, he settles for the spot on the sofa; the one that has his name engraved on it with an ink of memory and habit. lounging there provides a proper view of the space around him, so when you walk in, showing off whatever delicacy he's bought to hug your curves, he sees the entire picture, perfectly framed. he cocks his head to the side, his knuckles pressing into his cheek as he tells you to twirl around for him, princess, so that the skirt of your dress may flutter or so he could have a good look at the way that lace-edged hem of your brand new knickers lightly sinks into the soft flesh of your buttocks. he pats his lap for you to come and take a seat like a good girl, and he may just show his appreciation for how ravishing you look.
yet, on the drearier days, when time seems to drip painfully slowly and when the invisible frost seems to linger in the corners of your home and bodies, he leans back into his mighty armchair and pulls you close — bare or modest, it matters not, as long as you are against him and he can trail incoherent patterns across your hip or run his fingers through your hair. something weighs on his vision and his eyelids threaten to falter underneath the dull pressure — he yawns and closes his eyes, aware that you, too, have given in. his thick glass of whiskey sits empty, sweating cold droplets of water; the cigarette butt squished in the ashtray.
meals are greatly indulged in; homemade, takeout, eating out. after all, sukuna's a connoisseur of gastronomy. wrinkled widows and middle-aged housewives did not utter a single word of lie whilst making the statement that a way to a man's heart is through his stomach, for sukuna indeed shows immense pleasure if you decide to treat him to a little something, whether it be some quick morsel or a sightly dinner sprinkled with the grandiose. his tastes are peculiar, however, so your outings in the evening either start or end up at a pricy spot with mouth-watering dishes.
when either one — or both — of you demand a rest from the confinements of your home, thoughts or chores, cruising through the highway and city roads is a welcome option. whether it be in a car or sukuna's motorcycle, a ride is a ride. underneath the streetlights after dark, or in the minutes just before the sun starts to sink into the horizon, or right after the rush hour when the roads are suddenly free of a tremendous burden. it's a little bit of adrenaline, and head free of pesky thoughts, your arms around his waist and your laughter that seems to fade into the breeze after a few seconds. the glimpse of you staring out of the car's rolled down window as your favourite song plays on is oddly sweet, and sukuna finds himself content with smaller things in life.
the ultimate betrayal of trust is giving in to the unholy, godforsaken urge to watch that one episode after a frustrating cliff-hanger — alone. there are spots in your routine which you fill with some stupid reality show or a theatrical series, most of which neither of you expect to grow so attached to. the image is that of a dimly lit living room, a bright screen and sound of chewing as you lay close to one another, occasionally commenting on and reacting to whatever is occurring within that wondrous glowing box of visionary delight. sukuna is transparent with his tastes; his expression twisting in some vague sense of disgust at poor writing, or brows raising in interest as the music shifts to a melody that is a tad more dramatic. the salt remains on your tongue and sticks to your lips.
he loves the way you attempt to be subtle with your affections and desires when the movie you're watching proves to be too dull. he sees you within the periphery of his vision — how you throw a glimpse or two towards his handsome profile, your gaze smoothly trailing down the line of his nose, dripping from its tip onto his lips only to take a turn up his sharp jaw. he'd call you dumb and naïve for thinking that the gears within your skull are not being obnoxiously loud with some starved intent, but he bites his tongue for the sake of indulgence. the tip of your index finger ghosts over his skin before you press your lips to his cheek gingerly, begging for a sprinkle of attention, and when he does not go out of his way to satisfy your whims then and there, you whine and complain into his ear how the movie is so boring... truthfully, he would have scoffed and wrinkled his forehead at the terrific acting and horrendous story-telling, too, but he swallows down whatever atrocity his eyes are witnessing on screen lest you grow bolder and needier with your advances, because he adores seeing you try harder.
some days you're bolder, when you come stomping to him as his eyes follow the rows and rows of black-ink characters pressed into the paper or glowing from the screen. your perfume is demanding, your outfit revealing, your lipstick's shade a herald of debauchery. try harder, he wordlessly dares as he spares you but a single glance, acknowledging the intent that you're absolutely overwhelmed with. sometimes he is not in the mood for your little schemes, so when you push at all his buttons with that voice thick with desire and relentless attitude that ignores his every warning, what else could he possibly do than give you what you've wanted, tenfold? he bruises your thighs with violet handprints and paints your neck with ruby red stamps of wanton need and irritation and leaves your legs quivering, shaking like a leaf because you, needy, naughty little thing, have asked for it.
other days he demands your attention. when you're reading your book, or watching your show, he approaches with bold, shameless kisses to your neck; open-mouthed and wet, not shy of whatever thought clouds his mind. sometimes there is barely any lechery in the way his fingertips sink into the flesh of your thighs or the way his palm caresses your back. sometimes he hungers for that which he deemed unfamiliar before you; for his head to rest against your breast and the sound of your heart-beat echoing in his ear. no matter what the motive is, his approach is direct, and his arguments temptingly good.
the smell of clean bedsheets, stained only by a whiff of slumber, is intoxicating on the weekend mornings; those always end in some lounging and rolling around, small kisses and sleep-laced grumbles. it's slow, it's leisurely, as if time holds no weight or consequence. they lead to another thirty minute nap, or a hungry yet slow session of love-making that ends up lulling you all the more. it's a shared shower, toast for breakfast, smell of bitter coffee or matcha, and the two of you in your own little world for the day.
sometimes you wake up before him and abandon your spot on the bed; let it grow cold and lonesome. standing on the sidelines, by the nightstand, provides you with a different view from the one you're used you when your cheek is sunken into the pillow. other than sukuna's resting face, you see the entirety of him fully — the cover half-heartedly trying to hide any indecency; the expanse of his muscular back moving rhythmically with each breath, resembling the way sea-waves come to hug the shore before being pulled back by an invisible force. the scratch-marks from your desperate fingernails are faded red on his shoulders, and he seems so tenderly mellowed as he roams his own dreamworld. you could lap up the sight, eat it up and engrave it into your brain, but settle for acting like a little stalker for just a minute or two, appreciating the sight of peaceful, unburdened sukuna who has his features halfway devoured by the soft embrace of his pillow.
thank you for reading!
— kamesama.
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk sukuna#sukuna#ryomen sukuna#sukuna x reader#jjk headcanons#headcanons#sukuna headcanons#kamesama
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How long will the japanese wikipedia article for goncharov last?
And how big is the internet, really?
I was in a wikipedia hole recently and I happened to notice that the Japanese article for Goncharov is the only language variant that is completely in-character.
Every other language specifies it as “Goncharov (meme)”. Japanese lists it as “Goncharov (1973 film)”, and formats the introduction as if it were a real movie:
Goncharov is a 1973 mafia film set in Naples, Italy. Produced by Martin Scorsese, the main cast includes Robert De Niro, Al Pacino, John Cazale, Gene Hackman, Cybill Shepherd, and Harvey Keitel.
— Wikipedia (my translation)
The rest of the article does go on to acknowledge Tumblr’s influence in Goncharov’s popularity, but every mention of this influence frames it as reviving the popularity of the supposedly real film. On two occasions the word 再燃 is used (the first kanji means “again” and the second kanji means “burn” - it means “rekindle” and can be similarly used in the metaphorical and literal sense, just like the english word “rekindle”).
Goncharov became particularly popularity on social media as a result of a reblog of a Tumblr post in August 2020. The post depicted shows the title of the film (Goncharov) in place of a brand logo on a shoe, which were described as “knockoff boots”. The image post and the comment attached to the reblog, mocking the fact that the original poster had not seen the film, became an internet meme. In November 2022, a poster made by a fan of Goncharov was uploaded to the internet, and the film’s popularity resurged. Various fan-made content about the story and production began to spread on Tumblr and other platforms. Goncharov has been widely covered in the media as an example of how fandom is born on the internet, with many prominent figures, including Scorsese himself, leaving comments.
— Wikipedia (my translation)
It’s clear the article is trying to adapt the real history of the meme and incorporate it as much as possible into the fictional history of the film. The rest follows quite similarly, and includes more analysis of how Tumblr culture created the “reignited” popularity, how Elon’s acquisition of Twitter resulted in an exodus of users to Tumblr which may have contributed to the increased awareness of the “movie”, etc. Though most of it is directly translated from the english, enough of it is original (such as the attempts to reconcile both real and fictional histories) that I suspect the article’s current state is intentional.
To get back to my initial question, how long will this article last like this?
Remember the whole Scots Wikipedia debacle? An american teenager had basically used simple word replacement to translate over 23,000 articles into Scots. Some people noticed this, but not many, and not loudly enough. It was only after a well researched reddit post pointed out the scale of the damage that people really took notice and action was taken. The wikipedia editor had apparently been doing this for 7 years before the reddit post was made.
If 20,000 articles could go largely unnoticed for 7 years, I imagine a single article could easily evade similar detection. Realistically, how many Japanese speakers are going to even hear about Goncharov and make it to the wikipedia article? Then, how many of them are going to do more googling and find out it’s all a hoax (or know already)? THEN, how many of them are going to tell a wikipedia admin that the article is a lie, or publicise it somehow in a way that forces the editors to update the article?
I think the reality is that although the internet may appear to be a massive open town square (or several), it also has side streets, and side streets of side streets. I feel like the number of active members in each online hobby or interest group are really quite small, and then they get divided between platforms, and even further divided into subgroups. I think if one decided it was something one wanted to do, it would be quite easy to become one of the most prevalent members of any online community you chose just by devoting the time and energy to it.
It’s also kind of shocking how much internet content is inaccessible on account of it being in a different language. English reigns supreme in terms of sheer volume, but there is original research and journalism and entertainment and art in every language, that hasn’t and might never be translated into english. For example, I found it very difficult to find any english sources or research for my post about the evolving conjugation of 違う, but I easily found several japanese papers and websites. In fact, if you google “違くない adjective or verb”, the first english result that doesn’t just handwave it as “informal” or “slang” is a tumblr blog with my post on it!
It’s a small internet indeed where my little hobby language blog is, according to google, the prevailing english source on what is quite a remarkable change in Japanese grammar that’s been happening since the 80s.
I think the Japanese unreality version of the Goncharov wikipedia article will stand for many years to come.
(below link shows the article at time of writing)
#langblr#japanese#japanese language#language#goncharov#the internet#long post#essay#日本語#jimmy blogthong#official blog post
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Coitus interrupted.
Starring: Giyuu Tomioka x f!reader; Kyojuro Rengoku x f!reader;
Warnings: nsfw, language, oral sex (reader receiving), oral sex (Giyuu receiving), mention to death, depression and alcoholism in Rengoku’s part, modern au, accidental voyeurism, humping;
Format: short imagine;
Plot: you and your boyfriend were having a steamy make out session, but one thing leads to another and you found yourselves moaning each others name. Everything was great, until someone interrupted you. Will it kill the mood, or ignite a devious spark within them?
Author note: Hi there! I have decided to do a re-make of a drabble posted on my old wattpad account, because I have realized that, although I am a huge Rengoku simp, I have not posted anything about him. Shame on me. As you may have noticed, I have already posted a “Coitus interrupted” about Muzan, Douma and Kokushibo because an anon had requested it. I am now serving you with some Hashira contents because why not :)
﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏
Kyojuro Rengoku.
Spending the night with your boyfriend and his little brother meant only one thing: a good, tasty dinner and a warmth shower of love and affection from the Rengoku brothers. Since their mother had tragically passed away, Shinjuro had fallen into a dark loop of depression and alcoholism. He barely took care of the house and Senjuro depended solely on his older brother and you.
Sometimes, when you two took him out for a stroll at the park, people asked if he was your kid and that made your heart explode with joy. You deeply cared about the younger Rengoku and you would have done anything in your power to help your beloved boyfriend in being a parental figure for him. Kyojuro was literally the sun incarnated. He was a caring boyfriend, an amazing friend and the shoulder you could cry on every single time you needed someone to rely on.
Being there for him and his family was truly the least you could do.
Falling in love with him had been easy. You were catastrophically in love with him and, when he had asked you to be his wife a few months ago, you did not have to think twice before accepting his proposal.
Now, it was a hot summer night and you had just successfully put Senjuro to sleep. He was, apparently, full of energy that evening and, after a delicious dinner the three of you had cooked without setting the house ablaze, you and your soon to be husband could finally have the time to enjoy your intimacy in the privacy of his bedroom. Life had been a little chaotic, as of late, and making some spare time to relax and indulge into something more than just ferven kisses shared in the shadows was truly rare.
As soon as you two entered Kyojuro’s bedroom, your back hit the soft mattress of his bed and the air was temporary knocked out of your lungs for the impact. His bright eyes bored into yours as he captured your lips in a tender, but hungry kiss. You could tell he was starving, but so were you and the way you returned the kiss with equal passion spoke volumes.
He peppered your cheeks in kisses, his body hovering over yours as he made sure not to crash you with the weight of his muscular body “Can I taste you? — he lowly said, as his nose brushed against yours — I skipped the dessert just for you, little flame”.
His usual booming tone was long gone and you knew exactly what he meant by that.
As you nodded your head and spread your legs wider for granting more access to him, Kyojuro smiled softly and curled the skirt of your dress up your thighs. He did not ever bother to tug your panties down, he did not want to waste any precious time, after all. Therefore, pushing the thin and now soaked fabric to the side, he delved into your heat.
He slowly began to kiss his way up to your core and you left out soft moans, your half-lidded eyes glancing down at your man and the erotic vision he was providing you. There was not a single inch of your thighs he neglected. Your hand snapped down, fisting his soft blonde locks gently, as you tried to hold back your moans.
You were too lost into your pleasure and Kyojuro was too focused on you, his deft tongue about to reach your aching spot, to hear someone unlock the front door and drag his feet along the floor. When you eventually heard someone scoffing, and your eyes flicked up to see a disgusted Shinjuro on the threshold, it was too late. Your boyfriend whipped his head towards the door and his father did not lose his chace to torment him again.
“Argh, at least, I hope you got talent in that!” Shinjuro commented, shutting the door closed behind him as he left.
You gaped in shock and Kyojuro shrugged, smiling at you softly, before making you forget that little inconvenience.
“I won’t let him ruin our moment” he whispered to you and he actually stack up to his oath.
Giyuu Tomioka.
You had thought that inviting your boyfriend over to celebrate your birthday together was a good idea. It was the first time you finally had the chance to have him sleep over without your boisterous family around to interrupt your moments of intimacy. Giyuu, naturally, obliged your request and by the time you were done with your make-up and hair, the door bell rang.
“Saying that you are breath-taking is an understatement…” he had barely murmured, handing you a small bouquet of red roses as you opened the door for him.
Your reserved and stoic boyfriend always found a way to leave you speechless and his small, loving gestures made butterflies flutter in your stomach. The night had just begun and you were confident about a glorious, positive outcome as it unraveled under your eyes. The attentions, the sweet words and kisses and even the shiny pendant he had gifted you with were small steps that inevitably led you to one result: a passionate make-out session on the sofa.
You had been kissing for a while, your lipstick staining the white collar of his shirt, along with his thin lips and Giyuu had boldly made you sit on his lap. Your hair were disheveled at this point, but you could not care less. Teasingly, you started to grind down on him and the Giyuu dropped his usual façade. You could feel his bulge pressing against your thigh and you decided to properly thank him for the special treatment he had gifted you with all night long.
Low and deep grunts of pleasure fell from his lips as you repeated the action a few more times, before aiming to the second step.
You hastily dropped to your knees, your hands reaching up to unbuckle his belt to give him a good blow job, as your boyfriend eyed you in awe. His lips were slightly parted as you unzipped his pants amd freed his erection. Your tongue swirled around the pinkish tip to give him a taste of what was about to come, when the door flew open and a familiar voice resounded in the room “Happy birth—” Uzui said, cutting himself off.
You blushed furiously and Giyuu hastily grabbed a pillow to cover himself. Humiliating, it was so humiliating. Your brother was absolutely shocked and your boyfriend was probably about to faint.
You three stayed silent for a minute straight, none of you dared to talk, until Uzui cleared his throat and took his leave “Woah! Are you two... Please, go ahead! See you later!”.
AUTHOR NOTE.
Hello there! The satisfaction of getting another draft out of my way is incredible. I’ll do my best to take care of some requests and then start my birthday event! Stay tuned! As per usual, thank you so much for supporting this blog. Likes, comments and re-posts are truly appreciated!
Until next,
x o x o
#kyojuro x reader#kyojuro x y/n#rengoku kyojuro#rengoku x reader#demon slayer#demon slayer smut#demon slayer x reader#tomioka x reader#tomioka giyu x reader#rengoku smut#tomioka giyu smut#tomioka x you#tomioka x y/n#demon slayer tomioka#tomioka giyuu#rengoku kyojuro x reader
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