#i loved both performances so much but for completely different reasons

[pareidolla]

hello.

can you tell me what your biggest gripes normally are when people write broken?

like, I get the feeling that there's a fine line between "adorable pathetic sopping wet cat" and "annoying pathetic sopping wet cat" and I personally find Broken in the former. but I cannot really tell what the line is.

I have written Broken before and not to self promo but here is the link in case anyone is curious; like it got positive reviews for the most part. Still, would be nice to know.

hello dearie!! i'm so flattered you asked ♡

i did write this little post about broken a few months ago, and i'd like to first reiterate that i don't want to be labeled an arbiter of broken characterization or anything similar. one thing i admire about the stp fandom is how we all contribute our own distinct flavor to the characters, and i don't want anyone to feel like they're writing broken incorrectly simply because it differs from my interpretation. if i ever were to write a broken fanfic then his voice would be completely off (i just can't help but make him act cute!! he's just an anime girl to me!!!!) so honestly don't place too much stock in my opinions.

with that being said — i'd say my biggest gripe when it comes to depicting broken is when he's pathetic, flat-out, without any rhyme or reason to his actions. he can't perform basic actions, he cowers away regardless of who he's interacting with, and yammers away about giving up just because.

for anyone struggling with writing broken, i think you should first and foremost understand his motivations. ironically, tower is a great place to start here!

one could argue smitten and broken could have switched princesses, with smitten accepting the princess's nature as a world-ending divinity and broken's mirror image being someone equally hollow. except, that's not what either of them desires. smitten wants be the perfect knight in shining armor who whisks away the princess on horseback, and broken?

its easy: once you let her in, you'll be safe forever.

she doesn't want to hurt us. she's just doing what she has to.

what's the point of fighting if she's just going to win everytime? it hurts being sliced to pieces.

broken's main desire is to be safe. you ultimately gain him by failing to be a hero: giving up, expressing hesitance in a key moment, or fruitlessly struggling against a power so much greater than you. as a result, his princess, his love, appears not as a horrific creature, feral beast, or vicious demon, but as a a goddess, someone capable of protecting him.

think of tower less as the dommy-mommy broken was so incredibly horny for he cut his own throat just to kiss her feet, and more as a hurricane. a force of nature which tore apart his home, showed him the frailty and meaninglessness of his life, then offered him both meaning and shelter within her eye of storm—as long as he gives his body to her. which is ideal for broken because it restores the control he's lost by, ironically, offering it to someone else. if he is obedient and lovely and grovel then his savior will take pity on him and he will never suffer again.

to return to my main gripe, if we understand broken desires safety and fawning is his trauma response, then we should know it obviously wouldn't be triggered by every little thing, especially in a controlled environment.

for instance, if broken was invited to a game night with the boys then he's not going to be sobbing pathetically in the corner like a child. he is, and i cannot express this enough, a grown adult man. there are several approaches to writing this—personally, i'd have him decline the invitation outright, muttering excuses about being too busy and he'd sour the mood anyway. if wrestled into it then he'd sit quietly, trying not to take up too much space or attract attention, and then fudge a game once or twice to keep the others happy. ultimately, he doesn't care about winning, and just wants to avoid any fights.

having said that, being conflict-averse does not imply cowardice. broken is a hater, and i love that about him. he's very empathetic and gentle and sweet and the perfect boyfriend, yes, but he's so fucking sassy it's amazing. broken may shy away from conflict but there are several scenes where he expresses his disbelief over how unusual the other voices all are, bickers with them, or straight-up insults them in their face.

like, i'm chill with interpretations where broken secretly admires the voices and aspires to do better, especially post-para apotheosis, but most of the time he hates their fucking asses. he wholeheartedly believes he is the only normal person in a sea of freaks. a caged bird watching as the other birds fling themselves against a glass window. yes, he is a pitiful little sheltered pet who let's out a sad whine every few minutes but please he still has his teeth!!

phew. okay this got too long. uhm! i don't really know how to end this ♡♡♡ i will say i did like your fic! i've been starved for non-wholesome smitbroken look at those boys enabling eachother. if anyone else is reading this, please go forth and create your own broken fic; i will read and i will enjoy it. this is a threat.

[ingravinoveritas]

Oh, this is such a difficult--if not nearly impossible--choice. Both David and Michael were utterly brilliant in their respective roles, but in completely different ways.

Having seen both plays this year (albeit one of them on a screen instead of live), I have to consider each performance in the context of the production. Michael as Aneurin Bevan was the anchor of his play, the central performance around which all the other performances revolved, and a steady presence in the midst of an occasionally chaotic staging. David as Macbeth was a shining light at the center of a taut, intense ensemble in a play that was minimalist in design yet immaculately staged.

The one thing I can say with certainty is that neither production would be the same without their respective performances. Both of them elevated either the material they were given (Michael) or the performances of everyone around them (David). But putting them up against each other is really challenging because they are such wildly different characters and performances.

What I would really love is to see this end in a tie with David and Michael both winning, but I know that isn't likely to happen. But I also know that if one wins and the other doesn't, Michael will be the one celebrating David's win the loudest (and vice-versa). So in thinking of this particular award, I can only think to vote with my heart and feel reassured that Michael and David (and Cush!) are more than deserving of it, regardless of what happens.

What do you all think? Any idea who you are voting for? I'm interested to hear what folks have to say!

(To vote for the 2024 What's On Stage Awards, click here.)

[kandicon]

Avatar of the Web who keeps getting mistaken for an avatar of the Stranger because nobody cares to understand the nuance between marionettes and mannequins.

[kittyhui]

exes to lovers! seungcheol x reader

!!MDNI!!

[seungcheol ended your five year long relationship seemingly out of nowhere, leaving you heartbroken. two years after your breakup, you release your solo album, song written about the heartbreak you felt. now, seungcheol is trying to get your love back]

cw: idol x idol, angst w/ comfort, semi public sex, not grammar checked well😭

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“I think we should break up” is all Seungcheol says to you, sad in his eyes.

He walks out of your apartment, not staying to listen to your cries and pleads, asking for an explanation on why he was so suddenly doing this. He was a completely different person from the last time you saw him; his love-filled eyes replaced with cold and sad ones.

You tried to contact him multiple times after that; calls and messages never answered, leaving you and your heart shattered, your members having to pick up the pieces. A five year old relationship gone in a flash, without a reason, without even a thought of why. Did i do something wrong? Did he grow tired? Was there.. someone else? The situation hurt you so badly, that even fans could tell something was wrong. Your relationship was a secret from fans and from your company, save from the members. Your performance during promotions were off and it took you almost a full year to get back on your game, taking a hiatus at one time because it was just so bad. but you were feeling better now. It’s now past your two year breakup anniversary, and though you think about the good times of your old relationship, you weren’t consumed with grief anymore. You felt much better, better than ever. Better enough to release your first solo album, songs written from that time.

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[interviewer] So, What was the thought process behind this album?

[Y/N] All these songs are a part of a giant collection of songs while i was going through a lot of feelings haha. Most of these were my inner thoughts and feelings that I couldn't express to anyone else so I wrote them out. they’ve only now came out because I was finally confident in myself and these songs after years and my members helped build my courage to share them with you all.

[Interviewer] I’m happy that you were finally able to overcome your fears with your songs.

[Y/N] Thank you so much

[Interviewer] Do you think you could go more in depth about the song meanings?

[Y/n] Yea, of course. The first song on the album can be interpreted in multiple ways in my opinion. When I wrote this, I was thinking about someone I loved truly. I wrote this wishing that the way they ended it could’ve been that we just fell out of love. I wanted us to be tired of each other, to just want it to be over and so I wrote this point of view wishing this was the reality, even though I knew how much I still loved them. It’s very sad and kinda pathetic but yea haha.

For the second track, I wrote this because in this same relationship, the way we broke up was so rushed and I was not ready for it. I felt like they didn’t even feel anything towards me anymore and it broke me down so much. By the end of the song, I kinda accept it as the end and try to let them go.

Ah~ This third track was actually wrote when i was first in that relationship. We were both falling hard and fast and I had to let it out in a way. I can’t really explain more.

[Interviewer] And lastly, the fully english track?

[Y/N] This one really talks about how even if I’ll be in another relationship in the future, I’ll only think about and try to find them in the other person. I wrote this the latest out of all of them. I knew I was still in love with this person even though it’s been years since the breakup but I know I’ll always see them as my first and only love even if they don’t see me the same way.

[Interviewer] These are all truly beautiful songs

[Y/N] Thank you

[Interviewer] We just have a few more questions before we say goodbye today. Firstly, You said these songs were in a collection of other songs, will you release the rest of them as well?

[Y/N] Maybe, I’m surprised I got away making this album so hopefully I can push my companies limits a tad more.

[Interviewer] Next question, This relationship you sing about seemed really intense. Was it a long one?

[Y/N] Yea, It dont think I can go into too many details but it was a pretty serious relationship. When it ended, I took it very hard. I liked them for a long time before too so it was rough haha

[Interviewer] Last question, Because you produce and write songs for your group, Have you ever wrote about this relationship in those songs?

[Y/N] Honestly I couldn’t tell you. I try not to because I’m still not the best about this relationship I was in but it’s probably slipped in a few songs unfortunately haha

[Interviewer] Thank you so much for coming onto my show today!

[Y/N] I’m honored to be asked here for an interview, thank you. I’d also like to say thank you to my fans and anyone else who is listening in! Please enjoy my new album!

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Needless to say, your interview was seen by alot of people. Neitzens have been picking it apart since it came out, speculating on the mystery person you were talking about. Your fans were both happy for you and angry for you; ready to fight the person who broke your heart. Though the publicity was great for your album sales and streams, the constant news was really tiring now, especially now that you were promoting at music shows. Music shows that your ex, S.Coups of Seventeen, was also promoting at with his group. Singing a song about your heartbreak in the same place of the person who hurt you so bad, was awkward to say the least. The waiting room of the music show was the worst. passing by him and his group makes your heart pound. His eyes follow you when you pass by each other. you try not to meet his eyes. Your heart just couldn’t handle it. Your still wanted him yet you hated him at the same time. You wanted to kiss him again but also wanted to hit him. The last conversation you both had together was him breaking up with you. He hurt you so badly yet you yearned for him.

So when he approached you before your performance, you felt conflicted.

“Y/n?” The familiar voice fills your ears and you look up at the man standing infront of your sitting figure.

“Seungcheol? What are you doing” You didn’t actually think he would speak to you again, but here he was.

“Can we- can we talk?” He pauses, licking his lips nervously “I know you probably never want to speak to me ever again but I just want a second of your time.”

“You really have horrible timing. I going on stage in a few minutes. Please don’t do this now. You had two years to talk about this,” You look away from his, glancing to the side “We can talk.. after the music show is over. Don’t expect too much, though” You stand and walk to the stairs of the stage and he sighs, agreeing to meet later on.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The music show ends entirely too quickly for your liking, leg bouncing nervously in your dressing room and when you hear a knock at the door you know it’s Seungcheol. You open the door, the man in front of you quickly walking in and closing the door again.

“Y/n..” He sighs

“Seungcheol,” You try to sound disinterested but inside you just want to hug him. “Please just say what you have to say”

“I just want to say I’m so sorry for the way I ended things. I know I hurt you beyond belief and it hurts that I hurt you. I watched your interview and.. god.. I care about you so much.. I never wanted to break up with you but I had to..” His eyes brim with tears and he lets out a haggard breath.

“Then why did you? Five years, Seungcheol. I loved you for five years, hell, I still love you after what you did, but, just why? I felt like I wasted all those years for nothing. I want to marry you… I wanted to have everything with you.. You were my first everything and you hurt me like I was nothing..” You were choking on your tears at this point, the salty liquid pooling in you lips “You were more than just a boyfriend to me, Seungcheol. You were the love of my life.”

“Y/n.. I.. I didn’t break up because I wanted to.. your company found out.. they threatened your career if I didn’t break up with you.. I tried to convince them to let us be, but they were persistent and my company was pressuring me as well.. I shouldve fought for you more.. I’m so sorry. I wanted to tell you what was happening but… I was a coward. I never stopped loving you, y/n.. You’re the love of my life too. I had every intention of being with you until the day I died, and I want to fight for you now even though I didn’t before.”

The shock of what he said lingers in your mind. You look at him without saying anything. He sat down next to you, letting you process his words. After some time you finally spoke.

“I dont know what to say,” You start “I believe you even though that means my company did this too me but.. I dont know. I want to forgive you. I want you, Cheol. I want you to be in my life again. but it took me so long to recover from this. I dont know if we’ll ever be what we were before,” He looks down at his feet in defeat “But we can try..” He looks up at you again, eyes brightening.

He finally smiles, “You dont understand how badly I missed you…” He hugs you tightly before looking into your eyes and then looking down at your lips “can I..” You nod slowly, waiting for his lips to touch yours.

He kisses your lips with hunger, holding on to you for fear you might run away “Missed you.. Misses your touch.. ‘m so sorry, my love” He pushes you flat on the couch you were sitting on, kissing you face and neck with desire. He missed this so much. “I love you, baby. Please let me make you feel good.. Love you..” You whine at his words, hips grinding up at his.

“l-love you too, Cheolie.. Please.. Need you so bad” Your hands move up and down his clothed back. “Please..missed you too” He kisses you quickly, breaking away to remove the both of your clothes.

“Just a gorgeous as I remember,” He mutters under his breath. You can feel his hard member on your stomach, moaning at the anticipation of having him after so long. “Need to be inside you so bad, baby”

“mhm please, cheolie..“ You pull him closer, begging him to do anything.

“shhh, ill take care of you, baby.” he coos at you, finally pushing in, “shit- so tight.. you feel so good baby” he brushes the hairs out of your face, kissing your forehead gently. “So good for me, my love”

“Please move- Please I need it. Cheolie- Needed this so bad” You sob as he finally starts to roll his hips into yours, groans falling from his mouth.

“God- y-you’re too good, baby. Am I making you feel good, hm?” He fucks into you faster, rougher, breathlessly calling out your name into your ear.

“yes yes makin’ me feel so good- gonna cum soon” You hips rut into his, determined to make both of you cum.

“b-baby” He pushes your hips back into the couch, “Be good- i’ll let you cum, promise…” He breathes out hot breath, eyes blown wide as he pounds into you; your heat sucking him in dangerously. “Cum for me please, need you to cum, baby.”

Your desperation for each other was unmatched and you were sure that the people walking past your dressing room can hear the obscene noises coming from it, but you could care less. The pleads for more came out if your mouth like a ritual and Seungcheol knew you were close. One of his hands grip your own, telling you to cum, and what else can you do when his cock twitches inside of you so deliciously. You cry out his name once more before cumming hard. Feeling you pulse around him, he fills you up with spurts of his hot cum in you. “Fuck, did you so good, my love. I love you so much” He breathes out, pecking your lips once again.

You look into his eyes, dazed, and welling with tears again. His happy demeanor changes ones again. “Hey. Hey, Y/n. What’s wrong? Did i do something?” He looks you up and down, checking for injuries. Making sure he didn’t fuck this up again.

“No- i just- i just missed you so much, Cheolie,” you cry out. “Love you so much..” His arms are around you before you can even say another word. He murmurs I love you’s into your ears, kissing the tears rolling down your face.

“I love you too, baby. let’s go home hm?”

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a/n: these are the songs i used as reference for the solo album songs:

1. Can’t Love You Anymore - IU

2. Goodbye - OOHYO

3. Fallin’ - Yoon Hyun Sang

4. Glimpse of Us - Joji

this was so spur of the moment #loveit

[recuira]

Buggy Headcanons ˗ˏˋ꒰🍒꒱ˎˊ˗

★ — OPLA Buggy the Clown ♡

﹢he's the type of guy to follow the "i hate everyone but you" trope. the second he sees you, his heart lights up and he drops everything he's doing to go talk to you, even just for a moment. he could be heated, yelling at his crew, but when he sees you, he smiles and drops everything until you leave.

﹢he's a sucker for cuddles. absolutely loves them. if he's had a long and stressful day, he'll just fall on top of you and pass out. he loves to lay on you. his head on your chest as he rub his back or play with his hair. he definitely snores. not too loud but not quiet either. sometimes it'll get loud and you'll need to wake him up to get some decent sleep x)

﹢both a morning/night person. he goes to bed late and wakes up early. he doesn't get too much sleep because of how busy he is. sometimes the only time he gets with you is when you're both in me. if he's not deathly tired, he'll lay on his side with his head propped up on his hand as he listens to you talk about your day. your voice soothes him.

﹢he's very insecure. lowkey hates himself. his ego is forced and a facade for others so he can intimidate them. he hates his nose. he hates the subject being brought up in any conversation. when he was younger, before meeting shanks, he would wear a mask to hide his nose.

﹢i know everyone is like "buggy is a sex god and dominant and-" no. sorry. he is extremely insecure. it took him a while to show you who he really was. he lets himself unfold with you. he is himself with you. his true self.

﹢the crossbones on his forehead and upper cheek are tattooed on but he paints his face with makeup. his eyelashes are naturally long but he does wear falsies to accentuate it and make himself look more like a clown. his hair is naturally long but he tends to tuck and pin it back underneath the striped bandana.

﹢he likes things to be equal during sex. no top or bottom. as cringe as it may sound, he loves to call it 'love-making'. no fucking or hooking up - rather making love with one another. he worships you, especially in the bedroom. constant kisses and praise. loves doing all of the work, especially if you're stressed out. his favorite position is when you're both laying down on your sides and your holding each other while he makes love to you.

﹢he's a strict believer in taking care of you. pays for meals, surprises you with presents, doesn't want you working- he wants you to be completely comfortable and satisfied. someone as special like you should never even lift a finger. he has it all covered.

﹢loves to let you do his makeup. sometimes he'll be reading the newspaper while you're painting his eyes or lips. it's like he's an actor and you're his makeup artist. he can never get the lines as precise and as neat as you can. once you're finished, he gives you a kiss on your cheek, leaving a red mark. this happens every time.

﹢he's a goofy drunk, very humorous and silly. but as he sobers up, he becomes extremely clingy and doesn't let go of you.

﹢in the public eye, he acts very possessive of you, like he's the one in control. he always needs to be touching you. if you're apart, he'll send a hand your way and hold yours while he's busy. preferably his off-hand so he can still get some work done.

﹢people are scared of him for obvious reasons but when it's just the two of you, he's a big baby. sometimes he'll even use a certain voice whenever he talks to you. you tease him in public, telling others he's a completely different person when you two are alone. he laughs, calls you crazy, and plays it off.

﹢he loves no one more than he loves you.

﹢whenever he performs a show, he always gets you a seat up front. makes sure you can kick your feet up, your popcorn is always full, and you're enjoying yourself. whenever he pulls someone up on the set to help with one of his acts, you're almost always the person he picks.

﹢his favorite moments with you are when you're sitting on the deck of his ship, everyone else is asleep, and the two of you are counting the stars together and admiring one another.

﹢he loves to eat. if you two are eating together, he'll ask for the rest of yours and then some. messy eater, too.

﹢he's a great listener. loves to hear about your day.

﹢he loves to give you massages. just loves to pamper you, in general. your feet will be kicked up on his lap as he rubs them and you vent about your day or your laying on your back and he's above you, massaging your shoulders and hips.

﹢he just loves you. and he is a sweet and delicate man so treat him like one. he's the type of guy to sacrifice the world for you, not you for the world.

[featherwurm]

I'm going to get a lot more personal on here than I usually do:

Baulder's Gate 3, and especially Karlach, make me feel seen in a way no price of media I've ever engaged with before has. It's a big reason why I love it and why it's sticking with me like it is. I too am a big, loud, enthusiastic woman who says out of pocket shit. I have a heavy internal dialogue with myself. I have a temper, I'm bisexual, I love cute shit. I endured years of being utterly touch starved. I love sex and food and being alive...

I also have cancer; it's Follicular B-Cell Lymphoma. I was diagnosed in 2020 when it had reached stage 3A. It's currently under control after chemo* and I'm living my life normally. But while it's a very treatable kind of cancer, it's not fully curable**. There's nothing in me they can remove (it's my whole lymphatic system that's broken) and no drug currently that can wholly knock it out. It's cause is not known (genetically or environmentally), and its unusual for this type of cancer to affect someone as young as I am (I was diagnosed at 35 - it's much more common 65+***). So every three months I go into oncology and they check my blood and symptoms and see if I'm doing ok. I get imaging and biopsies occasionally too. This will go on until I'm not ok (hopefully a long time yet). I'll have to have still manageable but more invasive treatment the next time around. It's a well researched kind of cancer, and my oncologist hopes that in the next decade there may be some more permanent cure for it.

So you can see where I'm going with this. When you hit Karlach's monologue after killing Gortash, I've never felt better understood. I have no one to blame for my condition, no revenge arc of course, but the very same fear, frustration, grief, and anger are all things my husband has heard from me. I've never seen a more beautiful and moving and real exploration of the topic that resonates with me so meaningfully out of a piece of fiction that I love. Béart's performance is amazing - capturing a whole spectrum of emotion.

Karlach's story is absolutely not incomplete as written, confirmed by both the devs and Sam Béart - a terminal condition is just that. You don't get to fix or save her, you get to go with her through tremendous trial and difficulty. If you want to continue that story in your mind that's great (I know I'm eager to do so, for my own personal encouragement if nothing else) but on it's own it's a whole story about coming to terms with something that doesn't have a quick and easy little fetch-quest resolution.

So - every time I see another whinging post/essay/bitchfest about how her story feels "unfinished" or "incomplete" or "has too much cut content" you can see why I might take it a bit personally - knowing that the life I have, the easy solutions I don't get, and the frustration and grief I live with is seen as incorrect and wrong and bad writing makes me a little pissed off. If you think the story is incomplete as told and think a 'third engine upgrade' is missing you completely missed the point.

Karlach doesn't get a simple easy ending because people like me**** don't get that either. And like my husband and the others who love me you can choose to follow that story anyway. And that's fucking beautiful.

*Yeah dealing with cancer and undergoing chemo during a pandemic was really a peach.

**XKCD hits the nail on the head here and here.

***Current treatments have good decade long prognoses... but saying 'you'll probably be fine for the next 10 years' is a lot different at 35 than it is at 65.

****And believe me I've heard from a lot of chronic/terminally ill folks who love the game for the way it represents these things and feel the same, with her Gale, and Shadowheart too.

[phoward89]

Obsessed!Coriolanus Snow x Innocent!Reader, Obsessed!Crassus Snow x Innocent!Reader

WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is a warning in and of itself. Cussing, obsession, older man/younger woman, father & son both want the same girl, reader is just too sweet for this world and has no idea that the men in the Snow family are toxic...

There will be 2 different endings- 1 for Crassus & 1 for Coriolanus- posted after this as 2 additional chapters

Masterlist

Part 2:

Your mother was fuming as she sat next to Crassus in the large auditorium, watching your Academy graduation. Helenium couldn't help, but to give him a nasty side-eye. The way he looked at you during prom night when she was invited to the Snows’ penthouse, for pictures and to see both you and Coriolanus off, made her stomach churn. Your mother knew the only reason Crassus was lustfully looking at you was because you favored her so much when she was younger.

When your mother was your age she met a pair of Peacekeepers in her native District 12 while she worked at the apothecary as an assistant. She met Crassus Snow and Javani Halvir, friends and military brats. But, despite Crassus' endless pursuit (which was more like stalking and gaslighting) your mother fell in love with your father, Javani Halvir. And once your father passed his officer’s test he married your mother.

It was the life event that made General Crassus Snow a real cold, bitter, rat bastard. Oh, he was always cunning and overbearing with questionable morals, but his heart and soul truly began to rot once he was jilted by Helenium.

And now Crassus is pushing whatever lingering feelings he has for your mother onto you. It makes your mother sick to her stomach as she watches how happy you look sitting next to Coriolanus on the large platform set up on the auditorium stage, right behind the podium Dean Casca Highbottom was standing at in order to perform the commencement.

Your mother prays to the gods that Crassus leaves you and his son be.

Yes, your mother was never very fond of Coriolanus while you were growing up, but that was due to fear of him turning out like his father since he’s his mirror image. She wished that you would've had more friends, met another boy to fall for too. But after seeing you and Coriolanus posing for prom pictures and watching him dote on you while putting on your corsage and paying you compliment after compliment- well…your mother realizes that you're Coriolanus’ world. That he has some deep feelings for you.

And she'd rather have you with the younger Snow than the older one.

Helenium was shaken out of her thoughts by Crassus' deep, stern voice telling her, “It's such a shame your son couldn't acquire leave to attend his sister's graduation.”

Grandma'am Snow watched the commencement, completely unaware of the hushed conversation your mother was engaging in with her son. Her granddaughter, Crassus' niece named Tigris, was on the other side of her and was also too invested in the graduation ceremony then to eavesdrop on her uncle, who she was afraid of.

“Yes, well, his girl couldn't get clearance to travel so he pulled his request.” Your mother told Crassus, in a way letting him know that your brother picked his girl over your event.

“He's like his father, settling with a local district girl.” The Snow patriarch thickly scoffed.

“If I remember correctly, you were a bit star struck by a local district girl once.” Your mother reminded General Snow of how he had once loved her. That he was just as bad as Javani, as Rein, when it came to district women.

Crassus' face turned to stone and his icy blue eyes turned into frozen icicles. His voice was deep and bitter as he snarled, “Yes, well, she made me look weak and stupid by eloping with my comrade.”

Looking between you and Coriolanus sitting together, smiling while whispering happily, and the hateful General next to her, your mother pleaded, “Leave them alone, Crassus. Please, just let my daughter and your son be happy. She doesn't realize it yet, but she loves Coriolanus and it's no secret that he loves her too.”

“I've arranged for my son to be sent off to serve as a peacekeeper. He'll be getting his conscription letter in the mail soon.”

“You rotten rat bastard. Those kids don't even know, do they?” Helenium asked, even tho she was sure that you and Coryo had no clue about what his heartless father was doing to your lives. How he was meddling; for the worse.

The middle-aged man shook his platinum blonde head. “No, they don't.”

Your mother narrowed her eyes while whisper-hissing, “You're going straight to the 9th circle of hell for this, you treacherous bastard.”

“I don't believe in the hells or the gods, petal.” Of course he didn't. Anything other than his own wants and needs didn't exist. Screw energy and spiritualism; it's not real in Crassus' book.

A cruel look crossed over Crassus' handsome face as he told your mother the hard to swallow truth of, “But what I do believe in is success and being the best. You're daughter's my second chance at love and happiness; if I have to get my son out of the way then so be it.”

“I’m going to do everything I can to help those two kids be together, Crassus.”

“I advise you not to if you want to keep breathing.”

“Are you threatening me?” Your mother asked right as Coriolanus Snow took his place at the podium to give his Valedictorian speech.

“It's not a threat, but a promise.” General Snow informed your mother while trying not to roll his baby blue eyes at his son's speech.

Crassus felt his son's speech was lacking something. That it wasn't very lively despite Coriolanus being a charming young man and a very eloquent public speaker. Maybe Crassus feels his son's speech isn't too far because he doesn't like him?

“You wouldn't dare hurt me. You've been holding a flame for too long.” Your mother stated, a bit over confidently, instead of listening to the valedictorian speech. “And mark my words, I'm going to tell those kids all of your plans because the thought that you'd make your own son a miserable, heartbroken mess just so you can defile and corrupt my daughter's sick.”

Grandma'am patted Crassus' arm and proudly smiled. “Oh, Crassus, isn’t Coriolanus’ speech just marvelous.”

“If you say so, mother.” Crassus curtly tells his mother while flashing her a fake smile.

Crassus was a real cad. A cunning, calculating, cad. He knew that your mother would be an obstacle when it comes to wooing you. She proved to be too unpredictable tonight. An ally to his son, which surprised him since Helenium always hated the boy. But maybe her hatred for him ran deeper than her hatred for his sniveling brat of a son?

So, he decided to poison her while the Halvir and Snow families are out for dinner celebrating you and Coriolanus’ graduation. It was quite easy to get your mother a glass of poisoned wine. Perhaps too easy since Crassus has spies and henchmen all over Capitol City.

He even has loyal men planted right under President Ravenstill’s nose in the Presidential Mansion.

Your poor mother, bless her heart, didn't expect a thing. She was sitting in between Grandma'am and Tigris while you were sitting between Crassus and Coriolanus. Tigris was at Coriolanus side and Grandma'am was at Crassus’ side since the table was a large round one right in the middle of the dining room of a fancy Capitol restaurant.

Everything was going just fine. Everyone was eating and making small talk. Your mother was actually making an effort to be nice to Coriolanus and to talk to him, which both confused you and made you happy.

“So, do you two have any plans for the summer?” Your mother asked, reaching for her wine glass, which unknown to her was filled with a medium acting poison that would have her dropping dead before dessert was served.

“We're just going to hang out like we always do.” You told your mother, causing her to just nod.

“She'll probably stay a night or so, since it's summer.” Coriolanus added in as a sly way to announce your relationship. A relationship that you didn't even realize existed.

“I'm sure they won't be together the entire summer, Helenium.” Was Crassus' off handed remark as he ate his steak.

It was also the last remark made at your table to your mother while she was still breathing.

Yea…

Before anything else could be said, your mother dropped her wine glass, causing it to shatter and the poisonous wine to splatter and stain the white table linen, and started wheezing.

“Mother! Are you alright?” You ask, alarmed that your mother's suddenly choking, wheezing for air, and clawing at her throat.

Grandma'am and Tigris are frozen in their seats, tears beginning to fall from their eyes as their faces portray pure horror.

Coryo’s holding you while frantically screaming, “Help! We need help, she's choking!”

The other patrons of the restaurant are screaming and crying, or just staring in shock and awe. But at least a dozen people are screaming for help. And the restaurant staff are scrambling to call the authorities, doctors, etc.

Crassus on the other hand doesn't look bothered. Well…considering he's the reason you're mother's dying before your eyes of course he's not bothered by it, but you don't know that. Crassus, being a cold hearted bastard, just continues eating his filet mignon.

Cutting a piece of his steak, he looks at his son and rolls his eyes at him. How can Coriolanus be fit to have you when he's screaming his head off like he's scared out of his wits. Holding you and comforting you; making you feel safe are two different things.

Deciding that you need a real man to assure you that everything’ll be alright, Crassus puts down his fork and wraps his large hand around yours. A hand that's actually the same size as his son's.

“I've seen this before during the war. Rebels would poison Capitol loyalists.” Crassus said matter-of-factly.

“Are you saying somebody meant to poison you and accidentally poisoned my mother?!” You screeched on top of your lungs. You couldn't believe what you're hearing.

“I'm afraid so, petal.” Crassus solemnly nods while giving your hand a tight squeeze.

“It'll be okay, my darling. I'm here; you got me.” Coryo assured you, his baby blues the size of saucers, as he watched EMT-Peacekeepers rush over to the table to take your mother away.

But sadly she'd be a D.O.A at the hospital.

You went home with the Snows to their penthouse the night your mother died and you never left. Crassus gave you Tigris’ old room (she moved out a couple years ago when she opened up her own boutique) to use. But as soon as it was lights out and everyone went to bed, Coryo snuck you into his room; into his bed.

Coryo held you, kissed you, and assured you that everything would be alright. That you had him; that he'd always be by your side. The night of your mother's death, you cried yourself to sleep in Coryo's arms.

And the nights leading up to the day of her funeral were spent in Coryo's arms as well. The tears came and went sporadically, but his caresses and kisses never ceased. He freely gave you comfort.

And he promised to be with you, always.

The day of your mother's funeral was very somber. It was a large event, thanks to General Crassus Snow footing the bill and taking care of the arrangements. It was held in a large cathedral in Capitol City. One that was older than the city itself. General Snow spares no expense for your mother, claiming it was only right to send her off properly as the window of war hero Colonel Javani Halvir.

The service, performed by Dr. Gaul, the Head Gamemaker and Head of the War Department- also a close ally and mentor of General Snow, performed the service’s parting words for your mother. General Snow had given a eulogy with your mother, making her sound like a sweeter and livelier person then she was.

Your brother wasn't able to obtain leave so quickly, but he did talk to you on the phone. He also talked to Crassus on the phone and they came to an understanding about your living arrangements. That you'd stay in the Capitol under the Snows' care in order to attend the University. But once you graduated you could decide whether you wanted to stay in Capitol City or move onto PK Base-D12, where your brother lives as Officer Rein Halvir.

The ride to the gravesite to see your mother's casket get lowered into a 6ft hole was very hard. During that part of the funeral you're seated in between Crassus and Coriolanus Snow. Both father and son seemed determined to comfort you. Coriolanus held you close, not caring how it made him look, while Crassus patted your hand before resting his large and on top of yours.

Dean Casca Highbottom, who was sitting on the other side of the casket; across from you and the Snow family, saw how father and son are going for you. The morphling addict pities you. Truly he does. Because he doesn't know what Snow's worse, the father who's evil reincarnated on earth or the son who's literally the spawn of Satan. All Dean Highbottom knows is that you're going to get stuck falling for one of the Snow men due to charming smiles and lies.

Casca Highbottom always thought of you as a bright student; an amazing girl, and he wishes you nothing, but the best. Even tho deep in his bones he knows that you'll never get the best in life; will never be able to live up to your full potential.

The after funeral gather’s held in the large, luxurious Snow penthouse. People flitter about, giving you condolences and dropping off casseroles, fried chicken, and jello molds (some old superstition from the old days; the Pre-Panem days that women still honor) so that you and the Snows won't starve while in mourning.

You're sitting on the sofa, between Coryo and Grandma’am. Crassus greets everyone at the door and makes his niece, Tigris, help the cook take the food offerings into the kitchen.

You give sad smiles to everyone that approaches the sofa, preferring to let either Grandma’am Snow or Coryo do the talking for you. In fact, you feel so overwhelmed by all of these strangers offering condolences about your mother's death. People that knew your father, that know Crassus, and want to pay their respects to the wife of a late war hero: Colonel Javani Halvir. It was all so impersonal; you didn't know how to handle it. How to feel about it.

So, you left the pleasantries to the two Snow's you’re wedged between. Grandma'am was a refined lady that knew how to politely hold such conversations about condolences and Coryo was a charmer, he'd be able to say the right thing to all of these strangers acting like they're doing you a favor by telling you that they're sorry about your mother's death.

But then when Dean Casca Highbottom entered the Snow penthouse, he greeted his old friend curtly and asked him for a word- in private.

Crassus called for Tigris, the daughter of his late younger brother Cadmus, to greet the well wishers and mourners before humoring his old friend by escorting him to his private study.

Casca entered the study first and then Crassus followed behind him. Closing the door and making his way to the wingback chairs near the mahogany desk, Crassus asks, “What do you need to talk to me about, old friend?”

“Please, Crassus, you don't need to put on the fake pleasantries with me.” Casca told the tall and imposing General as they took their respective seats. “We haven't been friends since you turned in our drunken joke as our class project: resulting in the Hunger Games.” The Academy’s Dean reminded Crassus of the reason for their falling out.

“You overreacted about that back then and you're a fool for still holding a grudge against me for it. The Hunger Games got us a passing grade, didn't it.”

“But it also gave Dr. Gaul a blueprint for the Hunger Games that have been running for the past decade. Games that people lost interest in until your son made it a horse and pony show.”

“Well, Coriolanus didn't do that great of a job as a mentor in the games considering all of the tributes were killed by those rainbow snakes.” Crassus dryly remarked, reminding Casca of the failed games. Leaning his arm on his armrest and placing his chin onto his fist, Crassus asked, “I know you didn't want to speak to me about the games, Casca. So, what do you need to speak to me about?”

“I see how you seem to be infatuated with Miss Y/N, but she seems to be close to your son. I'm just worried that she'll find herself in the middle of something she can't handle and, since I truly believe she's a sweet girl, I'd hate for her to fall victim to a Snow’s cold, callous, heartless ways.”

“So, what? You want me to throw the poor girl out on the street? She's an orphan and my son's closest friend, what type of man would I be if I threw her out?”

“I know you, Crassus. You're not letting the daughter of Javani and Helenium Halvir stay with you because of Coriolanus and the goodness in your heart. You have no heart; you just want that girl all to yourself because you couldn't have her mother 20-odd years ago.”

“Don't presume to know my intentions, Casca. And if something were to come about between me and Miss Y/N then so be it- we're both adults.”

“You're an evil man, Crassus.” Casca scowled. Shaking his head, he voiced his unwanted opinion with, “I fear your son's going to end up as evil as you. That no matter who Miss Y/N ends up with, I'm afraid that sweet girl’s going to be tainted and corrupted by the beautiful, but cold Snow.”

“Casca, my old friend, my son isn't fit to polish my boots." Crassus cackled, dismissing his son's importance. A cruel smirk crosses over his full lips. "I hope some time serving in the Peacekeepers toughens him up, but he'll never be the strong man that Miss Y/N needs in her life, especially during her trying time.”

“You always were a cutthroat best friend. Stole my drunken idea, but stealing Javani’s orphan daughter for your own twisted purpose is despicable." Casca spat. Oh, how the head of the Academy hated his boyhood friend. "Thank the gods your best friend from the Peacekeepers is dead, because I'm sure he'd kill you for what you're planning to do to his only daughter.”

“Yes, well, he's been rotting in the ground with worms eating his flesh.” Crassus coldly said with a hint of mockery in his deep voice. Tipping his chin up cockily, the war hero of the dark days have his old friend and classmate a veiled threat of, “I do hope that you keep your conversation between us, Casca. I'd hate for your young daughter to lose her father- after all didn't your wife run off years ago? Be such a shame for your young daughter to get out in a government run group home.”

Casca’s not surprised that Crassus is threatening to off him and send his daughter to a deplorable group home for orphans and abandoned children.

“Don't worry, old friend, I'll keep your dirty deeds secret; under lock and key to just had to the immoral sins eating away at my soul.”

“Yes, well, I suppose you'll just have to up your daily dose of morphling to live with your bleeding heart.” Crassus scoffed. Standing up, he suggested, “I think it's time you paid your respects to Miss Y/N and leave. I'm sure you don't want your daughter in the hands of the nanny for too long.”

“Yes, I agree.” Dean Casca nodded. Standing up and making his way to the door, he told Crassus, “I'll be brief while giving my respects to Miss Y/N.”

And Dean Casca Highbottom was brief with paying his respects. He told you that your mother was such a strong woman and tried her best to raise you without the taint and cruelty of the world; that she tried to make sure the bitter frostiness of the Snow didn't give you frostbite. He also looked between you and Coriolanus only to shake his head and sigh, “Young Snow, I think when it comes to you Snow's falling.” Then he left the Snows’ penthouse.

Grandma'am wasn't around for the odd exchange between Dean Highbottom, Coriolanus, and you. Instead the old woman was talking to the neighbor Pluribus Bell about something.

“What do you think he meant by that, Coryo?” You wondered, looking at your best friend with curious eyes, as the Dean's parting words hung heavy in the air, like a toxic smog.

“I don't know, but I wouldn't pay too much attention to Dean High-as-a-kite-bottom, baby. He's never liked me much.” Coryo told you as he spotted a new group of well wishers heading towards the two of you. “We're done with the Academy and him, let's just focus on getting thru receiving well wishes from all the mourners, yea?”

“Yea.” You nod, a sad smile on your lips.

You're grateful for the Snow's, for their support during your time of need. But what you don't know is that within a few weeks you'll be parted from your best friend when his conscription letter for the Peacekeepers arrives; that you'll be around General Snow day in and day out.

That you'll have to make a choice between father and son. You can only have one Snow, but who will it be? Crassus or Coriolanus?

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @harvey-malfoy @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress

[sunny44]

The breaking point

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Teammate!reader

Warnings: arguments, crying and maybe other things

Summary: Max and Y/n, longtime teammates with a complicated relationship, find themselves in the midst of a heated argument that pushes their bond to its breaking point. As emotions run high, Max says things that he shouldn’t leading him to hurt the only person that matters to him.

I’ve known Y/n for years, and from the very beginning, our relationship was anything but simple. On the track, we were the perfect team, almost like we were made for each other. We pushed each other to the edge, always trying to be faster, stronger, better. But off the track, things were different. At the start it was just us not liking each other and then as time passes I started to like her, and as moras time passed I started to feel different e about her. When she was away from me I wanted her close and when she was with me I wanted her closer.

And after that I realized that I was in love with her, but there was always this tension between us, like an invisible wire pulled tight, just waiting to snap.

Today, that wire snapped.

It all started in the paddock. We were in the middle of discussing strategy, something that should have been routine. But for some reason, things escalated. Maybe it was the stress of the season, the constant pressure to perform, the fact that from being the top team and always winning races we were in fifth and sixth place in the last few races, or maybe we were just tired. But whatever it was, it made us both say things we shouldn’t have.

“I’m sick of you always blaming me, Max!” Y/n’s voice was sharp, cutting through the noise of the garage like a knife. She stepped closer, her eyes blazing, and I could see the anger in her eyes, the frustration that had been building for who knows how long. “I’m not the one that made the car a piece of shit in this last few races.”

I should have backed off. I should have taken a breath and calmed down because deep down I Ken I would snap at her even if I didn’t wanted to. But instead, I let my own anger take over.

“And I’m fucking sick of you and your bullshit! I wish I never met you!” The words flew out of my mouth before I even realized what I was saying. As soon as they left my lips, I knew I’d crossed a line. A line we’d never crossed before.

The moment the words were out there, I wished I could take them back. It wasn’t true—none of it was true. But the damage was done. Y/n’s face went pale, and I saw the shock in her eyes, like I’d just slapped her across the face.

She stood there, frozen, her chest heaving as she tried to process what I’d just said. I’ve seen her angry, frustrated, even upset, but I’ve never seen her like this—completely stunned, like I’d just ripped her heart out and crushed it.

When she finally spoke, her voice was so soft I almost didn’t hear her.

“Is that really how you feel?” Her voice trembled, and for the first time, I saw something I never thought I’d see—tears in her eyes.

My stomach twisted into knots. I wanted to tell her no, that I didn’t mean it, that it was just the heat of the moment and that I loved her. But my throat felt tight, like I couldn’t get the words out. All I could do was stare at her, my mind racing, trying to figure out how to fix this.

Y/n blinked, and a tear slipped down her cheek before she could stop it. She quickly looked down, avoiding my gaze, and I could see her fighting to keep it together. She was the strongest person I knew—nothing ever got to her, and she never let anyone see her cry. But now, because of me, she was on the verge of breaking.

I felt like the biggest idiot on the planet. Why did I say that? Why did I let my anger get the best of me? I knew how much she meant to me, how much I needed her, and yet I still said something so cruel, something I didn’t even mean.

When she finally looked up at me, her eyes were filled with hurt, and it cut me deeper than anything else.

“I never thought… you of all people would say that to me.” Her voice was barely a whisper, but the pain in it was deafening. “I knew you didn’t like me but that was cruel, even for you.”

I tried to move closer, to say something, anything, that would make it right.

“Y/n, I didn’t mean it.” I said, but my voice sounded weak, even to my own ears. I reached out toward her, but she pulled away, putting more distance between us. It was like a punch to the gut.

“Don’t.” she said, her voice sharp, cutting through me like glass. “Just… don’t.”

She turned away, her shoulders hunched as if she was carrying the weight of the world. She started walking toward the dressing room, her steps quick and determined, like she couldn’t get away from me fast enough. Panic rose in my chest. I couldn’t let her leave like this, not when she didn’t know the truth.

“Fuck… No! Y/n, wait!” I called after her, my voice cracking with desperation. I started running after her, my heart pounding in my chest. I needed her to understand that I didn’t mean what I said. I couldn’t lose her—not like this.

She didn’t stop, didn’t even slow down. She was almost at the door when I finally caught up to her. I reached out, my hand brushing against her arm, but she jerked away from me like I’d burned her.

“Please, Y/n, just listen to me.” I begged, my voice breaking. I could feel the tears threatening to spill over, but I fought them back. She needed to know how much she meant to me, how much I regretted what I’d said.

Y/n paused, her hand resting on the door handle, but she didn’t turn around.

“Why, Max? Why should I listen to you? So you can hurt me even more?” Her voice was so quiet, so filled with pain, that it made my chest ache.

“I didn’t mean it.” I said, my voice thick with emotion. “I was angry, and I said something stupid. I don’t wish I never met you—I could never wish that. You mean too much to me, Y/n. More than you could ever know.”

There was a long silence. I could see her shoulders shaking slightly, and I knew she was trying not to cry. It was killing me to see her like this, knowing I was the reason for her pain.

Finally, she let out a shaky breath, her voice barely audible.

“I never thought you’d hurt me like this, Max.” She turned to face me, and the look in her eyes nearly broke me. She looked so small, so vulnerable, and it was all my fault.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n.” I said, my voice trembling. “I’ll do anything to make it right. Please, just give me a chance.”

She looked down at the floor, her expression conflicted.

“I need time,” she said eventually, her voice tinged with exhaustion. “I just… I need to think.”

I nodded, even though the thought of being apart from her, even for a little while, made my chest tighten with fear.

“Take all the time you need,” I said softly. “I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

Y/n nodded, then turned and walked through the door, leaving me standing there alone in the corridor. I stared at the closed door for what felt like an eternity, my heart heavy with regret.

As I finally turned to walk away, I made a silent promise to myself. I would find a way to make this right, no matter what it took. Because Y/n wasn’t just my teammate—she was the one person in the world I couldn’t imagine living without.

Bonus scene!

Y/nusername instagram stories

“Rewatching old races, getting pretty and working”

This will have a part 2, if you want to be tagged let me know in the comments

[nor-4]

More dominic fike?

Tags - Somnophilia, dacryphilia, breeding kink.

"I'm sorry baby, i just can't control myself everytime i see you like this.." He whispered with a groan trying to behave himself for disturbing you in your sleep as he slowly pushing up your lacey sleep wear exposing your breast.

It was never an issue to you that dominic comes home late from his gig, as long as you get to stay with him the whole day.

Usually everytime dominic comes home from a very sweaty night the first thing he will do is step inside the bathroom and shower, you made it clear for him that you don't like outside clothes and sweaty skin in the bed. That's understandable and that's the very first reason why he make an effort on doing your wishes instead of making you upset.

Well everything is different tonight some of his assistant keeps on pissing him off, the fans they are overstimulating him, he wants to stop singing mid way just to piss their night off.

On the way home his manager is bugging him saying it's obvious on how bitchy he is earlier while performing how he should fix his attitude, Everyone that would look past him while driving will know how much he wanna scream and curse everyone out.

On your shared home he sees you sleeping so gracefully how every breath you take looks elegant, he just want to ruin you and take his anger out on you.

That's how everything escalated from him stealing a little kisses on your neck to him pulling up your sleep wear pulling your panties to the side as his tip carelessly rubbing through your folds.

You are taking your consciousness as he slowly entering inside of you with the help of your wetness that has been damping your underwear.

"It's just me baby, Oh shit.. I'm sorry if i wake you up this late.." Dominic explains through out his groans as a moan liberated out of your mouth one last thrust before your cunt swallow his whole length.

"You look so beautiful huh?" Him talking you through it waiting for your body to settle and calm on his length, "Can i move now?" He asked before earning a nod from you.

Dominic starts moving in a gently slow pace massaging both of your breasts leaving out a kisses between it was all calm sweet it was a very loving kind of touches. Until all the memories from earlier came back damping into him like a bucket full of ice.

With that he starts thrusting into you in a lot more faster pace very far away from his pace earlier, which makes your boobs move same as the lace of your sleep wear is moving down from your shoulders to your arms as you stretched it out to hold on dominic's arms.

"You must be waiting for me for too long, don't worry baby I'll ditch them tomorrow.." He reassured you stopping mid way to pull both of your legs to hang on his arms before completely slamming into you making a tears of pleasure come out of your eyes as you squint completely wetting your lashes.

"You look so good baby, my cry baby." he remarked as you are starting to hear the bed bang into the wall even though there's already a pillow separating both of them, it's not like you care about the neighbors. Both of you live in a very romantic place and both of you know damn well they did the same thing you guys are doing right now every night so all of you call it quits.

"I'm gonna cum dom.." You muttered through out the moans as your nails is starting to grip on his biceps, "Cum for me baby, I'll hold mine i want you to cum for me twice before i do." he remarked leaving out a smile before attacking out your neck removing his other arm from your leg to rub down your clit as his thrust grew more harder as you release on him.

You didn't hear what he said as you yelp out in confusion when he hang both of your legs into his shoulder and thrusting up into you again holding your waist in place as you cried out in pleasure completely wetting your cheeks.

He raised his head up out of pleasure before seeing your reflection in the mirror that is placed in the ceiling, "You're glowing, look at you from the top don't you look majestic.." he said placing a hand on your cheeks after he gently let go of your legs making you look to your reflection.

It was a short chitchat about him looking down on you and praising you before he lift your waist up again and pound of you like there's no tomorrow, it was not the best position for you making you cover your face out of embarrassment muting out your moans.

"Come on pretty girl don't cover your face, unless you want me to tie your hands up your head.." Dominic warned with a chuckle before sucking up your neck that would leave a bruise as his necklace that has your initial on it is tickling down your breast the same rhythm as his thrust making you unable to talk from the moans washing your thoughts out.

With that dominic adjusted his legs to more comfortable before pouncing into you again finishing both of you undone, "Oh fuck, just put a baby into you love.." he murmured rubbing out your stomach as you are catching your breath, "You will make such a good mom baby.."

"Dom, i missed you.." You weakly said as he snakely hugged you lifting you to sit up with him still sitting on his dick as he coop his face on your neck. "I do too baby, schedule has been fucking me up. I just want to end this and make a family with you.." he rambled which every noise is buzzing down to vibrate on your skin as you gently caress his scalp.

"We will soon love don't worry, we don't have to rush things." You assured him as it has been a very big dream of both of you to build a family and raise everyone out of love and care.

[cringeworms]

I'm writing an analysis of gender performativity in The Silence of the Lambs for my gender and sexuality class and in the course of my research I have encountered so many bad takes!! I can't not say anything so I've come to Tumblr to rant.

The most common criticism I see is that the ending of "Hannibal" discredits, undoes, or diminishes Clarice's feminism, autonomy, or power, or that it ruins the message of SOTL. That indicates a complete misunderstanding of Clarice and the point of the books! The point of "Hannibal" is to show that it does not matter how amazing, powerful, or how much of a feminist you are: if you are a woman in a career, especially a federal career, the system is designed to put you down and keep you quiet. I think there is nothing more she could have done and nothing she could have done differently to prevent her disgrace. When the system is set up to put men in power and keep them in power, your talent and integrity do not matter if they decide they don't want/need you anymore. There is nothing she can do to prevent the label of "female officer" from haunting her credibility. Even Crawford, who respects her and fights for her, sees her with the caveat of "woman." The one man who does not consider her gender any sort of detriment or a reason to treat her differently is Hannibal Lecter. They have genuine mutual respect. When she chose to be with him, she chose respect, love, and comfort over a life of fighting to be recognized, respected, or listened to. Just as much as it is respectable for women to fight for their right to be recognized in their careers, we must also recognize that that fight should not need to exist in the first place. So, why should there be any shame about choosing not to fight that fight anymore? She spent years in an uphill battle, and she probably never would have escaped it (to no fault of her own!). The ending of "Hannibal" is Clarice raising a middle finger to the system, the FBI, misogyny, and the patriarchy by recognizing that she deserves unconditional love and respect and that the system she fought so hard for was, in fact, completely undeserving of her talent or presence. Her decision is powerful and empowered!

"She was brainwashed!" she literally wasn't. Hannibal tried that (I believe because he was so unfamiliar with the idea of love or family that he didn't know how to understand Clarice outside of the lens of Mischa) but he was unsuccessful. If she was able to resist his efforts of brainwashing while in an altered state she certainly had the strength of mind to make her own decisions. Her decision was not impulsive. Also, I think it serves as a testament to her influence and power over him. She gained control of the situation and he didn't resist that. Ultimately, Clarice chose to spend the rest of her life with the one man who ever truly saw her as more than just a woman, who admired her intellect, and who respected her enough to challenge her. That is not weak, submissive, or misogynistic. Quite the opposite. She chose to leave behind the life she put years of effort into building (because she knew it would be fruitless) in favor of being finally honored and appreciated. That takes courage! She knew her worth, and she knew the FBI didn't deserve her.

Also, anyone who paid any attention to the books saw the romantic tension throughout the story. It didn't come out of nowhere. She really just needed an opportunity or an excuse to be with him, and she was finally presented with it.

I think reading the ending to "Hannibal" as anything other than empowering is a mischaracterization of both Clarice and Hannibal and shows a lack of understanding of the message of the books. I think it reflects a shallow understanding of not only the books, but of how feminism operates IRL (especially during the 80s/90s).

I also must give the disclaimer that I do not think these books are epitomes of feminism or representation. The transmisogyny, racism, queerphobia, etc., are obviously inexcusable. Just because I interpret their message as a story of caution about how misogyny operates, and how it is respectable to choose a path that does not work within that system, does not mean I agree with everything presented in them or any of their harmful rhetorics or stereotypes. I have a STRONG love/hate relationship with these stories and I don't ever mean to undersell the "hate" part of that lol.

[midnight-bay-if]

I read the ask about MC coming back to life and thought "How would they react if it was the opposite?". So the scenario is as follows, ROs died in MC's arms, MC begs them in their last moments not to abandon them and if they close their eyes they won't rest a day until they can see them back. ROs can't respond and die, BUT soon after they open their eyes as if they had actually just blinked. In fact they are in a completely different place, with a kind of drawing like a magic circle around them and naked without any wounds, then they look around confused and see MC, who even though hasn't changed in appearance, or is very similar to the last moment RO saw them, there is something arcane in their presence, not evil, but magical. Then MC takes a deep breath and says

"I had to fight five demons, two angels and read a cheap copy of necronomicon to be able to accomplish this without sacrificing anyone." then MC starts crying and jumps into RO's arms and hugs them with all their strength, as if they were afraid that RO would suddenly disappear "And all of this was worth it for this single moment! Don't ever leave me again you bastard!". How would the ROs react?

Sorry for the long ask, I got carried away.

(I will answer this prompt as it has come, but I thought I would throw in some lore here since it might provide a clue for a certain character. So, necromancy is actually outlawed in my little universe. The reason is that it actually always takes a sacrifice of some kind. There’s no getting around it. Death for life is always the exchange. Also, it’s very powerful magic that only a select few left know how to perform. Just a fun tidbit that some might find interesting. Now, for fun, I will answer the prompt as it is.)

S: They feel your weight press against them, inhaling the scent of you they have grown so familiar with. It takes a moment for their mind to catch up. S always knew you were special. It was obvious from the first moment you met. That tenacity, that strength, it was what drew them to you. But this? It scares them. Death should feel weightier than this. It shouldn’t feel like merely waking up from a long sleep. Their limbs are stiff, their throat dry, their skin tight… but otherwise, fine.

The moment of death comes back in flashes. A miscalculation, a moment of weakness, and that’s all it took. Life is a fickle bitch.

Regaining their bearings, S finally hugs you back, gripping your shirt so tightly it stretches. “I… fear what you must have gone through, darling. Words cannot express the depth of my sorrow. So, for now, I will remain quiet. I am here, love. I will not leave you again.”

Rain: They blink as if waking from a long sleep, but you are pressed against them tearfully, and everything hits them in a rush. Death. They died. So, how are they here now? They take a cursory glance around and see the ingredients, the circle, the book… Then, MC’s words as they regained consciousness… Oh, no.

Rain grips you tightly, one hand at your waist, the other buried in your hair. “I’m so sorry,” they whisper, tears in their eyes, “you are so strong. So strong. But you can stop now, okay? I’m here.” Rain pulls away enough to see your face, pressing a now warm hand to your cheek. "I love you so much."

Taj: They breathe sharply. Their chest feels strangely tight. They glance down at their hands, taking in the details as you hang off them, afraid to let go. Everything seems as it should, but after what you said… Shit like this shouldn’t be possible. It’s fucking nuts. You’ve always been so nondescript, so human… How could they have been so wrong?

Taj pulls away, both hands gripping your shoulders hard enough to mark. They stare into your eyes, soaking in the details, the evidence of how you have over-exerted yourself. “You fuckin’ idiot,” they whisper with evident affection. “Don’t you ever do anything like that for me again, you hear?” Then, they yank you back to their chest, holding you fiercely.

N: There isn't much that scares them, but this... They breathe heavily, still waiting for their hammering heart to reacclimatize to beating. They feel your nails digging into the skin of their back as you clutch at them with surprising strength. It all works to ground them.

Death for demons is a shameful journey. Demons are supposed to be powerful, controllers, and unparalleled manipulators. Demons are not supposed to be saved by their human lovers. Yet, feeling your weight in their arms and the tears you weep for them... all they feel is pride.

"There, there, my dear," they whisper, running a gentle hand through your hair. "It's over now. I am here. And it would take the destruction of cities to tear me from you again."

Umbra: The sensation is oddly familiar. But being uncomfortable in one's skin isn't a new experience for Umbra. At first, Umbra isn't even sure what happened. Their heavy eyelids open, and it takes your voice and desperate embrace to keep them from shutting again.

As you cling to them, Umbra glances around the space, and everything becomes clear. "No..." they whisper, gripping you back tightly. They dare not ask about it. They couldn't bear to hear you suffering in their name. For once, they don't move. They enjoy the closeness of your heat and breathe in the scent so distinctly yours. Just for a while. "I wish you hadn't... but thank you."

[divine-crows]

🎨✨️Art Magic✨️🎨

Uses, Forms of it, and Why I Think Everyone Should Try it at Least Once.

Foreword

Right before the COVID-19 pandemic hit, I had been trying and failing to rekindle my flame for magic work. No matter what I tried to do I just couldn't get back into my studies and I was reaching a point where I was convinced I lost my spark and was doomed to live an empty life. Then it all changed when a YouTube Channel challenged how I thought about everything: Molly Roberts. That's when I was opened to the possibility of art magic, and I'll now share my love of it with anyone willing to read on.

What Is Art Magic?

A means to utilize art for spellwork, raising magical energy, or for exploring your magical subconscious. It encapsulates multiple different types of art and is generally not confined by conventional expectation (unless that's what you prefer).

You can utilize art magic by. . .

Using traditional art methods

Digital art methods

Collages

Music composition

Jewelry making

Embroidery

And much more!

How do I know if Art Magic is Suitable for Me?

There isn't a specific thing that'll indicate this form of magic is perfect for you, however I have some anecdotes from my personal experience as both a witch, and a regular artist that form a sort of idea on what could denote this being perfect for you!

First off, craving freedom from personal restraints was a big factor that pushed me towards blending my craft with my passion for art. If you want to run from the monotony of life, if you feel trapped by the social construction of boxes, or if you simply want to challenge your own mental restraints... then this idea might resonate with you.

Challenging yourself with a new form of magic, similarly, can also be a good enough reason to try. I'm the type of person who loves to constantly learn new things and I unfortunately get bored really quickly if I can't get new source materials. Using Art Magic has proven a fun challenge for me that allows me to explore a lot more topics you can't just open a book to find.

For those that may not be able to safely perform a lot of traditional style spells, this form of magic provides a discreet way to practice witchcraft. Most people wouldn't really question someone if they picked up the hobby of making art, and even if they did there's plenty of reasonable excuses out there.

How you prefer your spells to manifest themselves can also affect if this journey is a good idea or not. I find that Art Magic is really good when it comes to subtle spellwork that is more longform (though depending on how you construct them you can definitely create a spell that's the opposite).

Catalog aspects of your magical journey. Imagine a grimoire filled with pages of drawings, each one telling a story of something you experienced or learned as a witch. This especially may be more beneficial for visual learners.

You could use it as a means of meditation, sometimes art can be calming and it can open the door to your mind (so-to-speak). Especially if you're like me and struggle with staying completely still while trying to clear your mind, this may be helpful for you.

Trying to better understand archetypes, deities, types of entities, or even your own self can also be a big part of this. I've used art magic as a way to embody the "energy" of something before so I could better understand it. Especially when you're trying to seek knowledge that isn't often written on, it can provide a great way to explore more.

How Can I perform an Art Spell?

I have a step-by-step process that can give you some insight on how you may approach it:

1) Think of the intention you want. I like to close my eyes and meditate on it for about a minute then I write down if my mind wandered to any specific imagery or ideas.

2) Think of visual symbolism and colors that can help you capture the mood you want. Perhaps you need a warm color palette to invoke positive feelings, or maybe there are specific objects or animals you can include on the composition that represent something.

3) If you feel it fits your composition, you can include sigils, symbols of significance, and include shapes that have certain associations. It doesn't even have to be obvious either. You can use a circular composition to convey something endless for example, or a triangular composition to show priority over something.

4) In general follow what your heart tells you. This is a little cliche, but ultimately follow what seems best to you. Art isn't about boxing yourself in and my guidelines are just general ideas for anyone who's lost!

Why do I think that everyone should try it at least once?

From my experiences as a witch, I find that a lot of paths to be followed are quite rigid. By no means am I implying that a rigid structure is bad-- it creates a foundation from which we can work upon. I myself am exploring rigid, 'traditional' (for lack of a better term) ways of working magic. Art magic pushes you out of your comfort zone in a safe way. It makes you consider how you associate things. It makes you create new sigils and makes you research new symbols you previously wouldn't have used.

So next time you're lost on a spell, or you've lost your way in your Craft and you don't know what to do, think about maybe giving Art Magic a try. I hope my guide was a helpful starting point for anyone interested in the topic!

[transformers-synergize]

Can Smokescreen fly with those wings?

(if that's what they are. Love your art btw)

No, he can't. He doesn't have flyers or seeker modification. He could have gotten them if he wanted back on Cybertron, but he can't now since the earth-stranded bots don't have the proper resources to perform that type of modification.

No cybertronian can naturally fly and require modifications to do so, there are two main types of flying modifications. Flyers who can only fly in their alt mode, while seeker/root mode flyers that can fly in root/robot mode and their alt mode. Flight is also not a natural instinct for cybertronians, and even if a bot is given additional code to help with flying, they still need to learn how. It's not second nature like driving or walking alts 

Already had the stuff below written down, but feel like this ask a decent enough excuse to share my flyer and seeker lore

The process is very unintrusive for gaining a flying alt mode, only requiring a few modifications depending on frame type. Most require an engine change modification to the t-cog housing and additional metal that can be used for wings or blades. Not all bots are compatible with flying modification, but most can be it just requires different levels of modifications.

Seekers, otherwise known as root mode flyers, are able to fly not just in their alt-mode but in their robot/root mode. It requires several extreme modifications, and only certain specific frame types are even viable to be converted into seekers. A Failed seeker modification is usually deadly, but all Seekers are prone to malfunction, often related in some way to overheating, Even with successful upgrades. Seeker frame upgrades require several intrusive modifications. Their engine is replaced with an extremely powerful one; these engines burn an extreme amount of fuel and are known for constantly overheating, which leads to seekers having to have most of their proto-metal removed along with adding a lot of extra vents and upgrading their cooling systems legs are restructured and given thrusters nonvital parts to functioning get removed even if they do serve a purpose if a bot can function without it gets removed to both bring down weight and fuel consumption another reason why most the proto-metal is removed, Bots with flyers modifications can still take on a ground base alternate mode while tripled changers with flying mods are able to take on both a ground and flying alt at the same time, bots with seeker modifications can only take on flying alts  . Seekers can't take on ground alt modes, and triple changers with seeker upgrades can only use two flying alt modes.  The decepticons sizable seeker units are often credited with their success in the later half of the war, and complete domination of aerial combat to the point most autobots avoid any form of air confrontation. seeker are able to dominate the skies in way a that regular flyers simply cant along with Decepticon habit of combining powerful experimental weapon modification with seekers it no wonder why these bots haven been referred to as flying death. It's no quintessence that most of the remaining Autobot strongholds are underground titans or in locations that make flying difficult. "I'm not a fan of heavy modification unless absolutely necessary, especially when it comes to modification for war, but the seeker modification has to be one of the worse out there other than flying in root mode, and a little extra flight speed it's got no real benefit to the bot themself while carrying all kinds of side effects, with how much energy their frame burns it cut their lifespan in half, that's if the various complications don't kill them first, whenever I get one these bots on my table I always question who would allow something like this, especially something like this to just be an accepted part of life thank to the war  At least the ones who were modified early in the war or by autobot look somewhat functional on the inside  I have had ex decepticons come to me with interiors that look more like mutilation than any kind of upgrade" Ratchet's thoughts on seekers.

[kissagii]

Your brothers are dumb, but Isagi is always your number one fan.

cw: gender neutral reader, 2.4k words, reader is rin & sae's musically gifted sibling, silly isagi, obscene amounts of pining, i don't know how music competitions work lol

@celestair it's here!!!! thank you so much for the fabulous prompt <3

“So, you’re on next, how do you feel?” Your friend Yuki asks, giving you a reassuring squeeze on your shoulder. The performer before you is wrapping up his piece, and your turn on stage is approaching far too quickly.

“Were they there?” You whisper, completely ignoring her question. 

“Didn’t see ‘em,” Yuki sighs, “But hey, you can’t see anything from up on that stage, don’t give up just yet.”

Despite her attempts at encouragement, you both know the truth. They aren’t there. They never are. Even now, as you prepare to step onstage in the final round of a national piano competition, your two soccer-obsessed brothers are nowhere to be found. You should’ve expected that from the start when the most they could offer to your invitation was “ok.” 

How many soccer games have you attended by now? How many hours have you spent in the sweltering heat, watching your brothers run up and down a field kicking a ball around? And despite all that, they have yet to deem one of your music events as worth their time. You’re half sure the reason they neglected to arrive was because neither one would be caught dead sitting in the same room as the other. It’s always a competition with those two – a test to see who could be the better soccer player, the worse brother – and you’re simply caught in the crossfire as you pursue your own wholly different passions. 

But now, unfortunately, there’s only one thing to do: go out on stage, play your heart out, and hope that maybe, just maybe, you’ll get a scrap of recognition from one of the fools who shared your last name. 

“Break a leg. And don’t let your shitty brothers get to you,” Yuki says, nudging you out onto the stage as the previous performer exited past you.

When you walk onstage there is no announcement of your name, no applause. There never is. Just a silence so thick it could be cut with a knife as the audience watches with judging eyes, anticipating eyes, and… hopeful eyes? The stage feels different today, fresh and pleasantly cool, as if the crushing expectations are lifted ever so slightly.

Then you see him. It’s just a glance, an impression of an individual, a hint of green and black in your periphery. But when he sees you it’s earth-shattering. He can breathe again – but only one barely-muffled gasp, because you’re quick to steal the air from his lungs as his heart begins to inexplicably race. Isagi has been in the same audience seat many times by now – the same seat every time, for his favorite view – yet every time he sees you walk out onto that stage it’s like rebirth, a preparation for the waves of joy and sadness and admiration and, dare he say it, love, that would wash over him as you played. All he has to hope is that you know he’s there, watching like he always is. And for the first time, you know – you deeply, truly, know – someone is out there watching you.

For this competition, you chose Liszt’s Un Sospiro. After mastering the technique, you spent hours of practice imbuing the piece with a thousand emotions, a thousand ways to sigh, and yet none of them felt quite right. So in the ten seconds before your fingers hit the keys, you have a decision to make.

Yoichi.

Of course, how could you forget? 

Without a moment’s hesitation, you begin to play, the notes dancing with the image in your mind. Simply the thought of him makes your heart race in time with the arpeggios, your measured breaths falling out of time as you let the music wash over you. The emotion flows so naturally you’re not sure if you’re pushing them into the music or if the music is pulling them out of you, a different one for each phrase, the joy and fear and longing and hope and desperation. You could practically see them, figures of light in every color dancing together across the stage and out into the audience, seeking out their target. 

They more than find their target: they crash into him like unceasing waves. Each one slightly different than the last, yet all so familiar; a language without words, yet each phrase he understands clearly. 

Is it five minutes, one, or thirty? Time begins to blur, everything fading to soft pink and green and orange and blue, colors and sounds existing independently of earthly constraints. It’s transcendental, almost, the room immersed in a lovestruck state of reverie until the final notes echo through the auditorium.  

By the end of the piece his chest is aching, and yours is aching too. The exhilaration hardly makes sense – were you not full of worry only minutes ago? Or had it been an eternity since anything other than Yoichi was on your mind? Adrenaline pulsing through your veins makes your head spin as you attempt to process your own performance. Oh, how unreal it felt. It had been a long time since you last felt so moved by your own playing… yes, truly a long time. 

The audience applauds with the required politeness, if not a bit louder than usual. None of it falls on your ears, though. You’re too busy staring at Isagi’s distant face as he gazes back at you with sparkling cobalt eyes. He nearly forgets to clap, sitting so unblinkingly still that those in the seats next to him wonder if he’s alright. He’s more than alright – his mind is racing in the same way it does when he scores a goal, and it’s taking every ounce of self-control he has to keep him from running to you now. 

As soon as you’re backstage, Yuki barrels into you, earning a few miffed glares from the last few performers preparing to go on. “Oh my god, that was amazing!” She whisper-yells, “I’ve never heard you play like that! See, I knew you’d do just fine without them in the audience.” 

Right. Them. You had forgotten about them while onstage. 

“I think I’ve found someone else worth playing for,” You murmur, half to yourself. For the first time, you didn’t really mind that your brothers hadn’t been there. Of course, it would’ve been nice, but without them… without them, you had made magic. You can make magic.

Yuki smiles brightly, the way she always does. “You’ve gotta tell me everything. And quickly, so as soon as this shindig is over you can head out and see your loverboy.”

“How’d you know that’s what it was?”

“Trust me, it was obvious. I’m pretty sure everyone knew.”

So, of course, you tell her everything. And as soon as the final round of applause echoes down the hallway, you’re getting pushed toward the door, standing nervously in the auditorium lobby until a familiar face emerges from the exit doors.

You see him first, which means you get to watch in real-time as he sees you and immediately lights up like a kid in a candy store. It’s his third epiphany of the day, and the only thing he can think to do is run toward you, frantically apologizing to strangers as he weaves through the crowd. Before you can even greet him or thank him for coming, he thrusts a large bouquet of flowers into your hands.

“You did amazing! Your music is like magic and I think I might be in love with you!” Isagi blurts out.

“Huh?”

“I’m sorry, that was probably tactless. No, it was definitely tactless. I’m sorry. It’s just, I saw you up there and I heard you play and it was like the music was talking to me and it was saying, oh, by the way, you have feelings for them and it’s actually ridiculous that you didn’t notice earlier because you’re absolutely whipped, y’know? Is that weird?”

You can’t help but chuckle at his unrestrained reaction, the genuineness in his tone. “No, it’s not weird at all.”

“It’s not?” He asks, breathing out a sigh of relief.

“Of course not. It means you heard what I was trying to tell you.”

It’s his turn to be surprised, and he lets out a soft, confused, “Eh?”

“I knew I wouldn’t be able to confess to you directly, so I did it the only way I knew how. Yoichi, will you go out with me?” 

“Yes! Absolutely!” He beams, smiling wider than you’ve ever seen him smile before; little wrinkles appear next to his eyes and his slightly crooked teeth are on full display. Shyly, he asks: “Could I hug you?”

“Please do,” you say, opening your arms to let him wrap his tightly around you. For a moment you stand in silence (not true silence, of course, because the room is full of people) and feel his heartbeat hammering against your chest. He feels your heartbeat too, he swears he can hear it over the noise.

“Thank you for coming, Yoichi,” You whisper, gripping the flower bouquet tightly, “It means a lot to me that you could be here.”

He hugs you tighter, so tight it feels like your ribs might crack in his grip. “Of course. You always come to my big games, there’s no way I’d let myself miss one of your big events. Speaking of that, do you know when the results come out?”

Though you’d like to keep hugging him forever, you let go and check the time.

“They’ll let us back into the auditorium in an hour, though they never seem to announce the winners on time.”

“In that case, can I take you out on a date while we wait? Unless you already made plans to wait with someone else… ahh, I really should’ve thought this out more.” Isagi scratches the back of his neck with an awkward smile, a nervous habit of his that never seems to lose its charm.

“Oh, no, I don’t have plans. I’m sure Yuki’s already gone off with her boyfriend, and you’re the only person I really know who showed up to watch. Spending the hour with you is a serious step up from waiting alone.” 

“Let’s go then! There’s a cute café just down the road if you’re hungry, or we could go walk around the mall if you’d prefer.” 

Isagi lets you lead for the hour, making it a bit of an early celebration. Because while the results aren’t out just yet, he’s entirely sure that your performance is worth a hundred gold medals and more. Anything you want to do is good enough for him, even if it’s something as simple as window shopping in formal wear, and he does everything in his power to make sure he’s the best new boyfriend possible. After all, he’s won at life, hasn’t he? Because now he gets to date you – he gets to give you flowers and cheer for you and hold your hand and make you smile. 

As you sit in the adjacent seats waiting for the results to be announced, he rubs his finger affectionately over your thumb. 

“See, I told you they’d start late,” You whisper with a laugh.

“They must’ve realized their trophy wasn’t big enough to properly congratulate you,” He whispers back.

“Hey, don’t say things like that! I haven’t won yet.” 

“I don’t think you witnessed yourself perform. You did amazing.”

“And you’re not a musician, so you’re not qualified to decide who won.”

“Even an untrained ear can tell you were the best up there. Trust me.”

Before you can come up with a witty reply, the head judge steps up to the podium on stage, holding a single sheet of paper in her hand. She gives a short speech – something about appreciating the hard work of the competitors – but neither you nor Isagi hear half of what she says. The room is silent waiting for the top three to be announced. 

“In third place,” The Judge calmly says into the microphone, “Matsuoka Yuki.”

Immediately you burst into cheers, hastily untangling your hand from Isagi’s so you can applaud your friend. Her performance had been stunning, and she’s more than deserving of the prestigious accomplishment. 

“In second place,” The Judge continues, once the applause quiets down, “Watanabe Shigeru.”

Another talented performer, of course. He had won his fair share of competitions, and the two of you had stood together on the winner’s stage more than once. As soon as you finish applauding, Isagi grabs your hand and squeezes tightly, as if to say the Judge will call your name next, I just know she will.

The moment you spent months waiting for is here. Either your hours of rehearsal and stress and aching hands paid off, or they didn’t. And the only thing between you and knowing was one sentence from the Head Judge’s mouth.

“Finally, in first place, winner of the Japan National Piano Competition, Itoshi Y/n.”

I’ve won. It’s as if you’re up on that stage once more, the way that the room explodes into applause like thunder. Isagi is shouting and shaking you by the shoulders – he really couldn’t be prouder of you. He knew all along, it seems, that your indirect confession was worth a gold medal from the organization and a thousand more in his heart.

The head judge invites the winners up to the stage, and Isagi nearly pushes you out of your seat to receive your award. Yuki meets you onstage, whispering her polite but excited congratulations to you. You return them hurriedly before taking your place on stage to be presented with your trophy. The process of handshakes and photographs feels like it takes forever when all you and Isagi want is to spend the rest of the afternoon together in celebration. 

Isagi meets you in the auditorium lobby again, and he presents you with the same bouquet of flowers a second time. “You won! You actually won! I’m so proud of you!” 

“Thank you, Yoichi,” You say, grasping his hand with your free one, “Thank you for being here to inspire me. Now c’mon, let’s go celebrate!”

The rest of the afternoon is blissful, almost unreal, just you and Isagi enjoying the sweetness of victory and love. When your phone begins receiving text message after text message you can hardly be bothered to reply immediately, even when you get the message you nearly spent the whole day waiting for.

rin: good job on the competition or wtv

isagi 💚

[sgiandubh]

As a woman who devoured 6 seasons of Outlander in 3 months

I find that Sam was very brilliant in his performance in the first season

Look at him here, even his voice was different and masculine

I don't know why in the following parts he was pulled into the artificial performance style

Even his tone of voice was changed to a ridiculous tone

I find that Sam's creativity was killed and Jamie character was made ridiculous as they presented him to us

Yes they succeeded in that.. But they couldn't change him, he is the crazy chemistry between Sam and Caitriona behind the scenes .

Dear Creativity Anon,

Bearing in mind I distractedly watched the first episode of 7B and not at all the second one, I think this calls for a more nuanced approach.

I do agree with you S was stellar all the way up to Season 4, when things started to spiral downwards, somewhat. I think it's obvious and I don't think we do him - or ourselves, morally speaking - any favors trying to put on a brave face and ignore facts. While C was, in my humble opinion, the weakest link in Season 1, she slowly started to be more comfortable with Claire and have a better understanding and intuition of that character from Season 2 onwards, only to accompany S down the drain at the same above mentioned point on the show's timeline. I am sorry if that sounds brutal to some - blind, enamored fangirling never quite did it for me, but constructive critic is always my cup of tea.

We could probably spend the rest of the night debating reasons and consequences, Anon, much of which are well known - and carefully denied - by many in this fandom. And while many might ascribe the 'new', later seasons S to an older JAMMF character he doesn't seem to master as perfectly as young, fresh faced JAMMF, I agree with you that he looks perfunctorily disinterested too many times for my liking. But then so does C, a woman her Stans worship the earth she's treading upon all day long, while nastily belittling her co-star and - remember, ROFLMAO - Partner Everyday. In a nutshell, the older JAMMF is a formulaic shadow of the fascinatingly versatile younger self and the older CEBRF is a frowning matron, with a passion for ether and terrible, terrible pitch. This is why I have always said I would like to see them both being offered the opportunity to create totally new characters, in totally new projects that would send them out of their respective acting comfort zones. That would be the real litmus test, Anon: not the feisty matriarch in Belfast, nor the endearingly stolid paramour in Love Again. They can do better, that much we know and they deserve better.

When a good, gifted actor suddenly starts to mix things up and lose it, there might be other reasons at play. And I know I will irritate many and I don't care if I do, to be honest. I am still amazed at the complete lack of discernment of this fandom's Stans. They seem to ignore the crucial accountability of that increasingly ineffective army of scriptwriters, producers (we both agree them being Exec Producers is little more than an incentive, with little real leverage on creative decisions) and directors - Matt who? directors XYZ who? And God forbid we'd bring into the mix Gabaldon's increasingly verbose, mediocre output and questionable narrative choices. Her complete lack of historical sensitivity: painting a dull Paris background while she was sitting on a cultural goldmine. Her obsessively cheap sensationalism: raping and uselessly traumatizing ALL of the main characters (why? is happiness that boring? and if so, what does this tell us about their creator?). Her abusively interspersing the intrigue with uninteresting, obscure botanical references, while forgetting to properly tie in the narrative lines. So much so, that I began to increasingly find disagreeable to continue reading the books, from The Fiery Cross onwards. Throw rotten tomatoes at me, if you wish, but I think life is too short for bad literature. So many other formidable things to read, so many other worlds to discover - why would I, as a reader, give this contemptuous, megalomaniac lady my time and my patience, when I have Tiziano Terzani's wonderful travelogues begging for my attention, on my nightstand?

You might ask, with good reason and common sense, why am I still committed to watch the show. And the answer is simple, Anon: when I start something, I strive to properly or at least decently finish it. And despite all the #shitshow, the cruelty, the childish lies, the gaslighting, the traculas and xenas and trolls, I am still here for that love. This, Anon, is something that nobody could ever take away from Those Two, spare perhaps their lesser selves (and that is nobody's business). But I am not worried, in that department - just aware and perhaps a bit cynical, too.

[sebscore]

hi ! I love your gen z driver series so much !!

i have a request that she and zhou show up to the padock in the same outfit unplanned

like i feel this would happen - they both fancy showing up in something so different and the other would be wearing the same thing !! <3 fashion icons think the same 😌

THE HELMET BET

pairings: zhou guanyu x driver!reader / f1 grid x driver!reader 

warnings: swearing. based on the 2022 grid. mention of sexism and racism. joke about doing an orgy.

author's note: idk if this is what you had in mind, but I had already written a small part of this fic and then your ask came in and I couldn't help myself. I love zhou so much, ugh thats my man fr. also, thank you for loving the series, it means a lot to me 💞

masterlist

• • • • • • •

''We're gonna get in trouble.'' Zhou said, shaking his head. 

Y/N frowned at his words. ''Why would we get in trouble? It's always super boring and our bet can at least spice it up a little.'' She reasoned, using a lot of hand gestures to show how serious she was. 

''You know those meetings are about our safety, right? We should take them serious.'' The Chinese driver didn't want to get in hot water with the stewards. 

''But this is a serious matter! We're putting an end to the debate,'' she retorted back, not seeing the harm in using the upcoming driver's briefing for their bet, ''lately, I've been seeing way too many people saying you've got better style than me and I've had enough of it.'' 

The female driver had seen the countless online discussions between fans regarding the most stylish driver on the grid, the winner usually switching between herself, Lewis and Zhou. In her opinion, Lewis had the best style, she didn't need to think twice about it. But it is important for her to know who his successor is, who is the number 2? 

To answer that question, she had come up with a brilliant idea: her and Zhou wear their best outfit to the next driver's briefing, not some team merchandising, and they get the other drivers to vote on which outfit is the best and therefore, which person has the best style. The person with the most votes gets to design a helmet for the loser and they have to wear it at the next racing weekend. 

''Okay, I'm in,'' Zhou admitted, shaking hands to commemorate the challenge, ''be prepared to lose, Y/N.'' 

''Don't worry about me, Guanyu.'' 

Y/N was confident in her win. The young woman knows she has style, her several brand deals with high-respected fashion houses being the proof of that. However, she knew not to underestimate her rookie friend, Zhou has had some killer outfits in the ongoing season. 

They had known each other for some years, but it was only this year that the pair had gotten close. Y/N broke the ice by complimenting one of his outfits at the start of the season and the rest was history. 

The outfit she had gone with was simple, but she looked good and she felt great in it. It was inspired by one of Michael Schumacher's paddock outfits (reference), knowing she would at least have Mick and Seb's vote with that one. 

Y/N got out of her car, ready to make her way to the F1 paddock and straight to the driver's briefing. In the corner of her eye she noticed Zhou's car pull up, his performance coach waving at her through the window. She reciprocated the action and decided to wait for him, thinking it would be nice for the two of them to enter together. She was curious as to what her friend would be wearing, secretly hoping he had fumbled the bag really hard. 

Her hopes came crashing down as Zhou got out of the car, observing the clothes he was wearing and noticing one clear detail. 

They were wearing the same outfit. 

Her eyes seemed ready to bulge out of her head, in complete disbelief. ''Are you fucking kidding me, Zhou?'' 

The Chinese man appeared to be much more amused by the situation, covering his laughter with his hand. ''You look very nice, Y/N.'' He giggled, greeting her with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. 

''It's turned into a ''who wears it better'' challenge, what the heck.'' She commented, eyeing him up and down before glancing at her own fit. 

Zhou chuckled. ''Well either way, I'm winning.'' A small smirk appeared on his face, still sure of his win over his friend. Y/N simply scoffed, grabbing her pass from her purse and walking to the entrance. Zhou and his coach followed her steps, still entertained by her annoyance. 

As soon as the paddock reporters noticed the sight of the two drivers, their cameras were whipped out from their bags and they began taking candid shots of the pair. Zhou and Y/N played along for the cameras, pointing at each other's outfits and pretending to look annoyed. 

Eventually they made it to the right room, already seeing most of the drivers waiting inside. Zhou went in and greeted the others, while Y/N waited outside, ready to lock the door as soon as everyone had arrived and was inside. 

Lando had been the last one to walk down the hallway. ''Hurry up, Norris!'' She exclaimed, her hand motioning for him to pick up the pace. 

''Why? I'm on time.'' He replied a bit agitated, it was a bit too early in the morning for him to be scolded by his friend. 

Y/N didn't respond to him, simply pushing him into the room and locking the door, making several drivers look up from where they were sitting or standing. 

''Y/N, what are you doing?'' Sebastian spoke up, curious as to what she was up to this time. 

The young woman urged Zhou to get up from his seat and to stand next to her. The man felt a bit embarrassed, but followed her orders. Y/N stood in the place where their director normally sat when he answered the drivers' questions or listened to their concerns. She placed both her hands on the desk, looking like a teacher that was about to scold her students.

''As we all know, Mr. Hamilton over there is widely accepted as the driver with the best style,'' she pointed at Lewis, who nervously smiled as the other drivers glanced at him, ''but that's not why we are gathered here today! We are gathered here today to decide who his successor is. Who is the most stylish person after Lewis? That's a question that we will settle once and for all, here, now, in this room.'' She finished her monologue. 

''Me and Mr. Guanyu found ourselves in a battle for the title of second most stylish driver of the grid, so I challenged him. We would wear our best outfits today and have our lovely colleagues vote for who had the best one. But as you all can see, me and Mr. Dior over here, are wearing the same exact fit.'' Y/N waved her hand between herself and Zhou. 

''So, instead of you deciding who is wearing the best outfit, you'll be voting for the person you think is wearing the outfit best.'' She concluded. 

The crowd had mixed reactions: some looked confused, some seemed entertained by what Y/N had told them and others appeared to not care. 

Kevin was the first one to speak, getting up from his seat and walking towards the door. ''Y/N, this is not the time to do this, we're here to talk about the race.'' He was about to turn the lock when her voice stopped him. 

''Magnussen, you're being a party pooper- do you want to be a party pooper?'' She looked at him sternly, trying to convince him to sit back down and go along with her antics. ''Don't pretend like you're not secretly enjoying this.'' The Haas driver rolled his eyes, but defeatedly put his arms up and went back to his seat. 

''Alright, we'll go around the room and each person says either my name or Zhou's.'' She explained further, moving in front of the desk. 

Checo's hand went up in the air. ''Can we also pass?'' He asked, looking at Y/N. 

''If you refuse to choose, we will consider it sexist and racist as I am a woman and Zhou's Asian.'' She answered him, garnering chuckles around the room and a nervous-looking Zhou who hoped people took it as a joke, since he didn't want to be making enemies as a rookie. 

Y/N clapped her hands together. ''Okay, we'll start with our party pooper, KMag! Me or Zhou?'' 

''Zhou, since he didn't yell at me and didn't call me a party pooper.'' He chose, making the female driver narrow her eyes at him. ''Alright, 1 for Zhou.'' 

The person sat next to Kevin was his teammate, Mick. ''Schumacher!'' He was about to speak, but the woman interrupted him. ''Before you choose, I took inspiration from one of your dad's outfits.'' Y/N tried influencing his decision. 

''I was gonna choose you anyway.'' He told her, making her jump up as her and Zhou had an equal score. ''Thank you, Mickie.'' She smiled brightly at him. 

''Valtteri?'' 

''I choose Zhou, I'm loyal to my teammate.'' He answered, smiling at the man in question. 

''Lando?'' 

''Zhou, because he doesn't humiliate me in front of the entire internet.'' The McLaren driver said, referring to their regular back-and-forths on social media. 

Y/N rolled her eyes. ''You're such a crybaby, Rumplestiltskin.'' Her words caused Lando to give her the middle finger, but it was all in good fun. 

''Anyway, Daniel?'' 

The Australian pretended to think hard about his answer, looking in-between her and Zhou. ''I'm gonna go with Y/N, cause I'm kinda scared what she'll do to me if I don't choose her.'' His answer got a laugh out of the other drivers, some of them nodding their heads. 

Y/N herself couldn't help but break a smile at Daniel's words, happy her friend had chosen her. ''Okay, next one.'' 

The voting was nearing its end and there was a tie, 9 people had chosen Zhou and 9 others had voted for Y/N. It all came down to one person. 

Sir Lewis Hamilton. 

Despite some of the drivers' dislike for the bet at the beginning of the meeting, everyone had gotten pretty invested. ''The maestro himself has to choose his next prodigy.'' Daniel joked, looking at the 7x world champion. 

Lewis shifted in his seat, not too fond of having the last vote on the matter. ''Can't I just say both of you? The two of you look very good.'' 

''No, mate! You have to choose.'' George argued, the others agreeing with him. 

Y/N was quite sure that Lewis would choose her. She was much closer to him than Zhou and the pair had talked about fashion before, discussing how it was a great way to express yourself. She was already designing Zhou's helmet in her mind. 

''Well, then… I guess Zhou.'' 

Her mouth dropped open, shocked that the senior driver had chosen the rookie over her. She wasn't the only one that seemed surprised by his choice, Seb turned around in his seat and Pierre's eyes had widened, mouthing ''wow''. 

The young man next to her, lightly slapped her arm. ''I'll send the design to your team next week, Y/N.'' He teasingly laughed, a big smirk present on his face. 

''This is a joke, right? I can't be number 3!'' She dramatically stated. 

''Hey! What's wrong with being the number 3?'' Daniel looked up, feigning being offended by her words. 

She was about to give another monologue about betrayal and how men are all the same, but several loud knocks on the door interrupted that from happening. Y/N sighed, but took a few steps to turn the lock. 

Their director didn't look too happy. ''Why was the door locked?'' 

''We were having an orgy.'' She sarcastically answered him, not planning on explaining to him why she had blocked the door from opening. 

''Y/N!'' 

The actual driver's briefing began and soon enough most drivers were already dozing off, some of them even wishing Y/N and Zhou's bet had taken a bit longer. They wouldn't admit it to the young woman, but ever since she'd made her arrival to these briefings, her unserious antics had made them much more bearable. Some drivers had even started looking forward to the meetings, because the girl always had something up her sleeve. 

As soon as the last issue was resolved, the meeting ended and everyone was out the door. When Zhou saw Y/N talking with Mick and Esteban, he swiftly moved next to Lewis. ''Hey, man,'' he patted the Brit's shoulder, ''thanks for that, I really appreciate it.'' 

''No problem,'' Lewis smiled, ''we made a deal, I'm keeping my word.'' 

Zhou nodded. ''Yeah, you vote for me and I let you help me design her helmet.'' He recalled the promise they had made a day earlier. 

''Great! I was thinking we just collect all kinds of embarrassing pictures of her and plaster them all around her helmet…''

''Great! I was thinking we just collect all kinds of embarrassing pictures of her and plaster them all around her helmet…''

''Great! I was thinking we just collect all kinds of embarrassing pictures of her and plaster them all around her helmet…''