#or maybe i'm just not paying attention...
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elsa-fogen · 1 day ago
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Yep. Yeah. That's me. Almost all of it, except, i sleep well (if i manage to fall asleep) Reblogging because maybe some of you didn't know (i also didn't know)
Story time!
Too long don't read: used to sleep on private math lessons because i hate math; it takes hours for me to fall asleep WHEN I SUPPOSED TO, and my sister does it in 3-5 minutes.
I was studying at university and we had MATH there I've always had problems with it. since 5th grade i think (well, i hated math before too but real problems started there) when i changed schools and the new class was behind what I've already studied and i didn't pay attention, until i realized that at some point I was behind. I said "welp, i guess it's to late to try, so fuck it"
So at university we had this very high level math and i just couldn't understand a thing (and we had an awful teacher who was saying evvvvery time something like "yall getting expelled, we're all gonna die") so i decided "if i don't understand, fuck it then, i will not even try" and started skipping math classes.
But i STILL had to pass an exam, we were getting 3 tries and if you fail you're getting expelled. I failed first two what a surprise (i don't know how i managed to pass it after all, i can't remember SHIT, only that i is fucking non-existing number which is square root of -1. Why on earth would you need it i have NO fucking clue.
So i had personal teachers who tried to make me understand at least something to pass the exam. And there was one i remember very well, i even remember that we paid her 10$ per hour (for us that was quite a lot). And i remember her because i was SLEEPING. I just COULDN'T keep my eyes opened. She explains something about deviding by zero and my brain draws the fucking universe collapsing in front of my eyes. She gives me some task, I'm trying to write something and I'm falling asleep and DREAMING about writing, then ahe wakes me up and i see that i didn't write SHIT. It all ended when in the middle of lesson she just kicked me out.
And, what a miracle, I'm leaving her apartments and suddenly, all the sleepiness just wanishes! I'm walking home, thinking about some another AU of mine, roleplaying it with myself in my head, full of energy again.
That's not the only case of this, but it's the strongest i ever felt. But that like happens all the time, EVEN WHEN MY MOM OR MY GRANNY COMES TO ME AND START TALKING ABOUT SOMETHING I'M NOT INTERESTED, IM YAWNING AND FEEL URGE TO FALL ASLEEP. But the moment they leave, It goes away! I was calling it work allergy LMAO
I was diagnosed with adhd in my early childhood (there was also something about epilepsy, but it's ok now so it doesn't matter), not long ago i brought this fact back into my active memory (thanks to Jaiden animations ADHD video for that xD) i kinda used to myself by now and now I'm trying to catch and analyse all moments of adhd kicking in. I know my own tricks and buttons, how to make myself do the thing or just how to force myself into doing something. Because i know if i start, I'll probably lock in and won't get up until it's done (well, if i have at least a tiny bit of interest in that thing, or else i won't), and i hate it when someone interrupts me in the middle of the process. No mom, i can't come right now, i can't finish it later, because i either spend few more hours forcing myself to go back to the task or just forget about it.
But i didn't know that this sleepiness was a legit symptom! I just thought that it's exaderated boredom, that's it, had a joke name for it. That's... Funny to know that this thing is actually also adhd moment.
Also, about sleeping. I have problems falling asleep. I may lie in the bed for hours without even my phone, just rotating my stories in my head, and when i don't have a story to think about, this is just the name of my current hyperfixation with different tones and in different random dialogues that doesn't even make sense. I have no idea how to fall asleep, except when i didn't sleep for like 48 hours (EVEN THEN IT MIGHT BE A PROBLEM AND I START THINKING OF THAT CREEPY PRION SICKNESS AND SCARE MYSELF AGAIN). And my mom told me that it have always been like that with me. She and my dad had the whole ritual to make me fall asleep. Dad would hold me in his arms, his head with me covered with a blanket that i could only see his face (or else I would look everywhere and never fall asleep), and rock me for HOURS while i was SCREAMING and CRYING the whole time like i was tortured. But when I'd finally fall asleep, they could be as loud as usual and didn't have to whisper, because wake me up is a whole different story. And my mom was SHOCKED when all it took to make my sister fall asleep was just pet her back for 3-5 minutes.
I don't think of myself as... Sick or ill. That's how i was all my life, i don't know anything else. That's not a sickness to me, that's just part of my personality. Maybe sometimes some parts of it bite me in the ass and make my life harder, but i don't know other life. That's the only one I've got, and i guess I'm fine with that (tho now that i think about it, i need to pay more attention to how i write the characters, and don't make them all ADHDshers LOL i need to study neurotypical people under a microscope 🔬🔍)
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bro im gonna CRY i didnt know this 🥺
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pearlymel · 3 days ago
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✩ CW: SUGARDADDY!NANAMI, fem!reader, fluff, MDNI unprotected soft sēx, lowkey breeding kink. basically he pays you to spend time with him. overall felt soft writing this.
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Nanami watches you tilt your head up, your smile full of childlike wonder as you observe the snowfall. The snowflakes that are as white as your coat.
"You wanted to see me because of the snow?" You ask, your eyes meeting his.
A rare smile graces his lips, and the sight makes his heart feel inexplicably lighter. "Mhmm," he replies, his voice deep yet somewhat soft. "You like the snow, don't you?" He brings the wine glass to his lips and takes a small sip, his gaze flickering over you, from head to toe. The way the snowflakes dance in your hair, your bright eyes, the way you were smiling as if enjoying this time with him… All of it adding to your beauty.
He looks unbothered by the chill in the air, and the snow that gently falls on his shoulders melts on contact. He sets down his glass, his eyes still fixed on you.
His gaze drops to the cup in your hands, his eyes lingering on the steam rising from the hot liquid. "Hot cocoa?"
Wine and hot cocoa, what a match.
“Better than wine in this weather, don't you think?”
Nanami's lips curve into a half-smile at your response, finding your practicality endearing, "I suppose you're right," he nods slightly, the sound of the falling snow blending with the soft hum of the city. "Sometimes it's not about alcohol—it's about what feels nice." He watches you with a slightly fond look, continuing to enjoy the way the snow dances around you like tiny, frozen stars.
The quiet settles between you two like the snow falling around you. He’s not one to fill silences—he’s much more comfortable listening. But still, he can’t ignore the nagging feeling that this time should be different.
“Kento,” the call of his name immediately grabs his attention, “why.. do you always have to buy something expensive for me whenever we meet? I'm perfectly content with you paying me in exchange of my time.” your question is something he didn't expect you to bring up, but he can understand anyway, you're always grateful for the little things, even when you always deny his gifts because they're too ‘expensive’.
His fingers tighten around the stem of his wine glass, and you notice. He’s silent for a beat before he responds in a murmur, "Because I want to."
He doesn’t elaborate right away, his eyes flickering over you, and away, as if he’s considering his words. He seems lost in thought, though he’s struggling to articulate something.
Your fingers glide along the cup holder of your hot cocoa, relishing in the warm in provides for your palms, “you should find a wife for yourself,” you tell him, honestly. “It's better than wasting your money on this…”
But Nanami nearly scoffs at your suggestion. As if it's that simple.
"And who'd want to marry a sorcerer?" He retorts dryly. "One day, you will wake up in the middle of the night to find me gone. Off hunting a cursed spirit, or fighting. Maybe not coming back." His jaw tightens "It’s not that simple." He continues, taking a larger sip of his drink to buy himself some time.
"I..."
He doesn't finish his thought, his tongue suddenly feeling like lead in his mouth.
And you understand, so you don't press on further.
"Maybe I'm just not the type." He finally speaks before he looks away from you, staring at how the snow has taken over the city.
You want to almost apologize for killing the mood but another question pops in your head that you just can't resist but ask.
“Kento,” your sweet voice that calls his name, again.
“Why did you decide—I mean, why are you doing this with me?”
The arrangement between you.
The answer was simple, "You’re the only good thing in my life... right now.”
You chuckle, "I find that hard to believe. Are there not any good people where you work at?”
"Most of them are idiots or brats. Or both."
“Mm,” you take another sip of your hot drink that started to cool down, “does anyone know…”
“No.” Quick to answer, again. “Embarrassed?” You ask jokingly.
And Nanami's brow furrows at the question, "Embarrassed?” he repeats, "More like protective." he mutters under his breath.
His lips purse in thought, before he continues, "I don’t like sharing.”
“… protective?”
“Of course I’m protective," he mutters, his voice low. "What we have..." He trails off, his words suddenly failing to find the right way to describe this thing between you two. Instead, he lets out a frustrated sigh. "You’re special. I don’t like the idea of sharing that.”
You feel like you should close this topic for now, and you push your sleeve up to take the time from your wrist watch.
He doesn't have to ask, it cue to leave. And Nanami always walks you home whenever you meet somewhere close to your place.
You both walk along the snow trail on the side walk, leaving your footprints behind, Nanami follows beside you, his hands also shoved in the pockets of his coat as well as yours.
His gaze flicks from the children playing in the snow, the old friends chattering and laughing as they catch up on life, to the couples walking by hand-in-hand.
“You like kids?” Nanami blinks at your question, his focus shifting back to you. For a moment, he almost looks embarrassed to be caught staring too long at a few children singing and laughing as they drown in the snow.
“Yeah,” he replies gruffly, his eyes flickering to the group of kids before looking back at you. He’s silent for a few moments before speaking again. “I like kids...” he says slowly, as if he’s testing the words on his tongue. “Not a lot, but I like them.”
You giggle, the sound warm and light, and his expression softens. He can’t help but be taken in by your carefree attitude. It's a side of you that makes him even more drawn.
He keeps walking as he glances at you, watching as you rub your chin against the scarf wrapped around your neck. He almost wants to reach out and touch you, but he doesn’t.
Instead, he clears his throat before asking, "are you warm enough?”
You stop walking, “wanna hold my hand?”
“… do you want me to?” he asks slowly.
………..
It doesn't take long until your hand is interlock tightly with yours, his hand enveloping your own in his pocket.
He really doesn't want to let go.
The journey passes in relative silence, the only sound is the crunching of snow under your feet. Nanami doesn’t say anything, his mind seemingly preoccupied.
Finally, he speaks, “Are you really gonna go home, once we get there?”
You raise your eyebrows, “what does that mean, Ken?”
He gives your hand a squeeze like he doesn’t want to acknowledge this moment is going to end.
“You know exactly what I mean,” he says in a low tone, “Are you just going into your apartment and go to sleep, like usual? Or are you... gonna let me invite myself in?”
It always leads back to this after the cute meet ups.
Nanami's hands are all over you as soon as you’re inside. He backs you up against the wall without a word, his body pinning you against it as his lips find yours.
His kisses are slow but hungry, his tongue slipping into your mouth as his hands roam around your curves while slowly letting your coat drop on to the ground, and you huff out.
“You're getting my white coat dirty—”
"I'll buy you a new one,” he instantly responds his breath hot against your skin. “But right now, all I care about is you, and getting you out of these clothes.”
He groans as your fingers run through his hair, his body pressing against you further, desperate to close the tiny distance that’s between you.
“Stressed?” You pant softly, and his only response is a low growl, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip as he kisses you again, his tongue slipping into your mouth and making your head spin.
“You know I am,” he mutters gruffly in-between kisses.
It doesn't take long until your beneath him on your bed, taking his time worshipping your body—this time he notices how your arms cover your face just when his hands were sliding up and down your sides down to your stomach.
“I know what you're thinking,” he whispers, and the gentle tug at your arm makes you want to peek at him, “don't. Let me see you.” He gives your forehead a peck and you frown, he's being too loving.
“You don't have to take your time doing this, i can take it.”
“but i want to take my time with you.” He says bluntly, “do you not want me to?”
You shake your head, and a half smirk curls up his lips, “good.”
He noses right between your tits, giving them soft kisses which makes your teeth catch at your lower lip.
The minute the tip of his flushed cock nudges right into your cunt, pushing in, you both groan in relief.
Fuck was it a stretch even when you were just taking in his tip.
“Tell me if you don't want it anymore,” he reminds you, every single time.
Only when you nodded and wrapped your legs around his waist did he start to move, pulling out slowly before pushing back in while rolling one of your nipples to distract your fluttering walls from tightening too much around him.
He sets a gentle rhythm, each thrust deep and deliberate, taking his time, groaning as he watches his cock disappears into you before leaving you again and again.
Meanwhile you—you looked drunk on him, your worries pushed away as your head is rolling back and your ruined glossy lips part when he thrusts deeper into you.
“Nanam—” he squeezes your hip before kissing a mole from your body, “did you forget my name already?”
You pout, your fingers reaching to stroke his blond strands, “Kento,” you sigh breathlessly and his lips envelope yours—you’re even more breathless now.
“Ken—” you try speaking, only to be muffled by his passionate soft kisses that honestly just makes you feel a little bit loved.
He lifts your body a bit, his hands sliding down to take a feeling of your ass, giving them a squeeze before sliding up to the back of your thighs as he increases the pace of his rolling hips.
Was he fucking you or making love to you? There was definitely a difference between the two.
“Sweetheart,” the petname he only ever calls you in bed, it rings in your head, and it makes you clench tighter around him which makes him huff.
The rare raw feeling of his girth inside you makes you even warmer, you can almost feel every nerve throbbing and twitching. “i will pull out, don't worry—”
“No,” you stop him, and he seems confused.
“Cum inside.”
Bold.
“Oh, fuck me—” he pants before pressing your thighs down until your knees reach to your ears and you gasp when starts pounding into you like there was no tomorrow, you would stop him anyway if you felt uncomfortable, he trusted you on that.
But with you moaning and whining for release, he can only almost roll his eyes back as he holds it in for a minute just to get a more feeling of you.
“Kento, I'm not going to run—”
You don't know that, he doesn't know that. This is temporary, what if this was the last time you both get intimate together?
Oh, Kento would rather work overtime than end this.
“B-be my wife—” He almost whines when he comes right on the spot, the prettiest moans elicits from your throat as you cum with him, quite literally milking and squeezing every drop of his seed right inside you, making sure not to waste any.
And he's panting heavily into your neck, he's done for.
You stare down at his buried face onto your skin, noticing how his ears have gotten redder, “Ken, did i hear you right?”
He doesn't respond, and only rubs at your stomach slowly. Maybe… it's only a matter of time until it sticks, then this ’arrangement’ doesn't have to end.
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imaginaryf1shots · 19 hours ago
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School Vigilante Pt. 1 | Oscar Piastri
WC: 5.2K
Oscar x childhood!friend!reader
Summery:(REQUESTED) Oscar is back from a weekend of racing. On the way back, he's stopped by jealous guys.
Warning: fighting, injuries, maybe cursing?
A/N: This request is one of my absolute favourite, so fun to write and once I started it was easy. I'm not linking the request until I post the second part
@ausie-brit this one is for you ❤️
Masterlist
Oscar Masterlist
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When Oscar decided to take karting seriously, telling his parents that he wants to be an F1 driver, they told him that their condition is for him to finish at least school. So, when he moved to Europe to compete there, they enrolled him into private school. And when he wasn’t racing or training, he was there. Oscar didn’t mind his time at school. But since he missed so many days, he mostly only made friends with people in karting.
Oscar’s family agreed with the school to let him come and go, if he got good grades and they paid all his tuition, which they did. The school didn’t allow their students out of campus most weeks, including weekends, but every once and a while the students will have a weekend in town, depending on their ages.
Even though Oscar didn’t spend as much time in school as other did, but he’s one of the popular ones. It’s known that he isn’t there on scholarship like some of the students are. And everyone has seen the places he goes to due to racing. He’s known as the racer kid in school, people like to talk about him and speculate a lot.
You of course knew who Oscar was, like everyone in school, you also heard the girls talk about how goodlooking he is. Thankfully your parents had you in a single bedroom, so you had no roommates, it helped you study and focus on your extracurricular activities. Being top of your year and the smartest student in years, made it easy for you to do those extracurriculars you liked. Teachers and students often didn’t pay attention to what you were doing and didn’t check on you.
It was one evening, Oscar was returning from a formula 3 race. The sun has sat since he arrived back in the UK, Oscar only had a backpack with him. He was close to the school gate; the campus was huge and surrounded by high brick fence. The streets weren’t that well light, but there was enough light for Oscar to see around him.
Oscar heard them before he saw them, the sound of drunken guys being rowdy. He hoped that they wouldn’t cross his path, he wasn’t feeling up to having to talk to anyone, all he wanted is to shower and go to bed.
But it looks like luck wasn’t in his favour because they soon rounded a corner and saw him instantly. He couldn’t see their face, but he was walking towards a streetlight, so they clearly saw them.
“W-wait, is that? What’s his name?” The shorter one said and pointed at Oscar. “The driver!”
“Ooh, you’re right.” The taller squinted his eyes. “Oscar or something.”
“Yes! Oscar.” His friend said and they looked at Oscar, he was moving closer to them. “Looks like he’s coming back from a race.”
“I don’t get how he gets to leave most weekends, and we’re stuck here, every day.” The taller one complained. Oscar doesn’t know if it’s their drunken mind or if it’s just how they are. But they walked up to him and blocked his way. No Oscar isn’t a small kid, he’s not short, and he works out every day, but the guys looked both taller and bigger than him, it was intimidating, he was intimidated even if he didn’t show it.
“You’re Oscar, right?” The shorter one asked buffing his chest.
“Yes.” Oscar answered one of his hands gripping his bag’s strap tighter.
“So what you’re back from a race?” The shorter asked smirking, Oscar could smell the alcohol on them from where he stood.
“Yeah.” Oscar tensed up, he was simply hoping they’d leave him alone.
“Why do you get to do as you please and the rest of us are stuck?” The taller asked and leaned closer to Oscar crossing his arms in front of him.
“My parents made a dea-“
“Oh parents! Yes, forgot you come for money, doing rich people sports and all that.” The taller cut him off and he pushed Oscar’s shoulder back, making the Australian stumble back a step. “You know, it’s not fair, they can’t just allow you to come and go as you please and the rest of us are stuck because you have more money than we do, the system is messed up, and you just think you’re too good for a regular life just because you race and…”
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You heard them before you saw them, they were loud, you could hear them from down the street, leaning over the edge you saw them come closer and closer before they passed you, you followed them around the corner and saw them look at another guy walking by the school fence. You saw those two sneaking out a lot, not only them, but they also usually had a couple more people with them. You usually come here for the open space to train, you can only do so much in your dorm room. They were still being so loud, you heard every word they said to Oscar, the guy the girls liked to fawn over. You adjusted the black face mask on your face and put your cap back on before you pulled your hoodie over it, the hoodie had the school crest on it, but you couldn’t risk wearing anything else in case you got caught after getting back on campus.
You saw how the guys moved, and from their stances you knew this was about to get ugly, and two against one is bad in your book. Getting to the pipe running down the side of the two story building, you swung yourself over the edge and held onto the pipe, placing your feet on the metal parts attaching the pipe to the wall. Moving swiftly you climbed down the pipe and moving in the shadows you got closer to the trio.
Thankfully you were close enough to them, because the moment the shorter one moved over his friend with his hand raised in the air you bounced. You ran over and pushed his harm to the side by his forearm, and sliding yourself in front of Oscar, the guy stumbled but regained his balance quickly.
“What the heck? Who are you?” The taller one asked taking half a step back, but not backing away. You tilted your head to the side but didn’t answer.
“What are you doing, hit him!” His friend pushed him closer to you and it took him a moment before he tried to attack you. Maybe it was the alcohol or they’re just stupid but it was obvious when he leaned to the right he was going to swing. You once more dodged, he didn’t stumble like his friend, just swung and swung the last one he stumbled. You’ve been backing up, making Oscar also back up. Oscar could only see your back, hew knew you were from his school but other than that he had no idea who you were.
The guys both shared a look and then came at you.
“Step back.” You told Oscar and he then realised you’re a girl, his eyes went wide but he did as you said. Clearly you knew what you were doing.
Your training kicked in as you swing under a hand flying your way before punching one of the guys in the stomach. Before turning in a spinning roundhouse kick that caught the first guy square in the jae, he stumbled back, shocked that soon turned into anger as he crashed to the ground. Your hood slipped off showing your hair under the hat.
“Whoa.” The second guy exclaimed, momentarily stunned, his drunkenness failing him. “Is that a girl?”
You didn’t give him time to process, you darted forward, closing the gap he made between the two of you. in a swift motion you dropped low, your knee shooting into his gut. He doubled over, gasping for breath and you followed up with a precise elbow to his back, he hit the ground sprawling.
The moment they were both on the ground you turned to Oscar. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah, yes.” Oscar looked at you confused by the whole thing, this is all happening too fast. Oscar tried to look at your face, but with the hat leaving a dark shadow on the little that was visible from your face he was unable to. But his eyes flickered down to the glinting of a necklace around your neck, his eyes flicker to your hands, and he sees a scar over your knuckles. There wasn’t time for him to say anything else, as the first guy scrambled to his feet, rage all over his expression. He charged at you, fist swinging wildly, you dodged easily. Your body is moving like water around him. in a seamless move, you sidestepped and swept his legs out from under him, sending him crashing down once more.
The second guy staggered to his feet, his expression shifting from shock to fury. “You’ll pay for that!” He slurred, launching another awkward punch.
You sidestepped again, your training kicking in as you countered with a swift jab to his ribs, then pivoted behind him, locking your arm around his neck. With a quick twist, you sent him tumbling to the ground, gasping.
Breathing heavily, you looked back at Oscar, who was now staring in awe.
“Get out of here before they decide to get back up.” Oscar hesitated, he didn’t want to leave you alone with the guys, even if you took them on by yourself. “I’ll be right behind you.”
“Okay.” Oscar turned and ran down the street to the gate, he heard you follow him. However, by the time he reached the gate, there’s no one behind him when he looked back.
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The next morning, Oscar couldn’t get you out of his head. As he walked to the administrative office, every detail from the previous night replayed in his head: the swiftness of your strikes, the way you moved with precise control, you’re trained he knows that for a fact.
Oscar recounted everything that happened to the headmaster, he could tell that they didn’t believe him a 100%, he asked if there’s CCTV, and then the headmaster and the vice-headmaster all went to the security room. Pulling up the footage from the day before, they skipped to the time Oscar told them the altercation happen, and sure enough they saw the guys walk to Oscar. The looks on their faces turned from doubtful, to concern, the school was ‘good’ with security, parents leave children in their care but here they are drunk and out when they shouldn’t.
There was no sound, but everything was clear, the principle knew who they were, even though the quality wasn’t the best, both guys were in trouble a while ago. When you appeared on screen, everyone leaned forward to try and see who you were, but even when your hood fell, they couldn’t pinpoint who you were.
“Do you recognise her?” They asked him.
“No, but she’s from our school, had the jacket and everything.”
Now in a school that doesn’t have any gossip besides who dated who and who cheated on who, the news spread like wildfire around school. The teachers told the students that they wanted to know who the girl was, and for her to step forward and nothing would happen to her, no punishment or anything.
By lunchtime, nearly everyone had heard about the mystery student who had supposedly rescued Oscar from an attack.
It took three days before a girl stepped up and said that it was her. She showed the teachers where she sneaks out from, and you couldn’t help but snort when you heard. You usually jump the wall where no cameras are positioned, you don’t sneak out when the guards change shifts or wait for them to go on a bathroom break. It was ridiculous. But you didn’t bother saying anything, let them believe what they wanted.
She cornered him after going to the teachers. 
“I heard what happened.” She said flipping her hair back. “Crazy night, huh?”
“Yeah, I guess you can say that.” Oscar replied trying to keep the conversation short. He wasn’t really a big fan of all the attention now on him because of the incident.
“Well.” Saddie continued, leaning a little closer. “I think I know what you’re wondering… it was me who saved you.”
Oscar blinked, taken a back, he didn’t expect that. “You?”
She grinned nodding.
“Yep. I was out that night too, you know, I sometimes sneak out.” She smirked as if revealing some thrilling secret. “I saw you in trouble and couldn’t just stand by.”
Oscar frowned; not sure he believed her. The girl who saved him moved with a lot of grace and confidence, he’s not convinced Saddie was that person. But she kept talking, adding more details to the attack. She knew the number of people, where they came from, and even some of the things they said. The footage wasn’t released, something only those who were there or watched the videos will know. But he still was sceptical, her build was different from the one he saw fighting, especially the height. He wasn’t that tired to forget or get confused. But she did know about the fight.
To you it was obvious why the girl lied, it was in the way she tried to stick to Oscar’s side, trying to touch him and laughs at everything he says, even when they’re not jokes. It was also obvious to you how uncomfortable it made Oscar; he’d cringe or roll his eyes, and Saddie still wouldn’t care or notice.
Even so, the news spread, and everyone was calling her a hero. Saddie went around saying what happened, exaggerating her story with each time she’s asked about it, embellishing details and playing up her bravery as though she fought off an army And everyone just started shipping them together, to no avail it seems because Oscar isn’t the type to be pressured into anything.
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Oscar was back from another weekend of racing; he found himself at the nurses office because his side was hurting from a crash on track that he was involved in.
Oscar walked in and didn’t see the nurse, but he saw you. You looked up at him before you went back to what you’re doing. You had sustained a few scrabs and cuts while you were doing parkour and fell. It wasn’t big or deep, all superficial.
“Uh, do you know where the nurse is?” Oscar asked closing the door behind him.
“She went to the toilet, will be back in a bit.” Oscar takes a look at you, while you paid him no mind, he knows you’re in his class, but he doesn’t know your name.
“I’m sorry, I forgot your name.” You looked up and drowned, no one ever asks you for your name or anything for that mattered. You were invisible to a lot of people in the school, and you didn’t really mind.
“y/n.” You tell him and finish putting the bandages on your hand. You turned to face Oscar fully, and something caught the light making him look down. His eyes went wide in recognition, you looked at where he was staring and saw your necklace. You pushed it under your shirt and sighed, but that gave him a view to your uncovered hand. A scar.
“You’re her.” Oscar said and you sighed, moving to get out of the nurse’s room. Oscar stepped back blocking the door. You stopped and glared at him, there’s a stiffness to your shoulders.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You say through gritted teeth, getting annoyed with him. He’s always gone, which you don’t care about, and no one has figured or had any inkling to what you do during the weekend. Everyone just assumes you spend your time studying.
“You saved me two weeks ago.” Oscar crosses his arms in a challenge.
“No! what are you talking about? That was Saddie.” You shrug, and if Oscar didn’t know better, he would’ve believed you.
“I saw the necklace when you were fighting, it’s you.” Your hands went to where the necklace rested under your shirt. “Same height, same build, same hair and same scar.”
“That means nothing, it could be anyone with my hair colour or something.” You weren’t welling to back down, you were scared of getting exposed and then suffering the consequences, you’ve worked too hard for that to happen.
“y/n, it’s you.” Oscar was firm, and you knew there was no changing his mind.
“You can’t prove it.” Was all you said as you looked away, trying to come up with what to say to the headmaster. Oscar’s heart skipped a beat, it is you then. You’re the mysterious saviour, the one that jumped in even though you don’t know each other.
“I’m not going to tell anyone.” Oscar said softly noticing what’s bothering you.
“You’re not?” your head snapped to look at him.
“I’m not.” He gave you a smile and you slowly returned it.  “I just wanted to say thank you.”
“Oh… you don’t have to.” You shrug not seeing it as a big deal. “They were too drunk to do anything, anyways.”
It surprised him how different your reaction is from Saddie, you don’t want the recognition, he understands your reasons. You want to keep to yourself.
“Maybe not to someone who trains like you, but my training is completely different.” Oscar said and you hummed.
“I hear Formula 1 drivers have great reflexes.” You tile your head slightly to the side.
“I’m not a Formula 1 driver.” Oscar counters.
“Yet.” That gets a smile out of him.
“Yet.”
The nurse comes in before you could talk more, you thank her for letting you use the bandages, and leave. 
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Oscar later finds you in an empty classroom, with a book of advance calculus in front of you, your eyes were focused on the pages lost in your own world. And Oscar understood how no one would suspect you of saving him or of sneaking out. The smartest student in class, no friends, parties, didn’t even indulge in idle chatter.
“That’s the ghost.” Oscar looked to his friend; he had leaned over Oscar’s shoulder to see who he’s looking at. Oscar was confused, and it showed because his friend went on to then say. “She’s always there in class, knows everything before the teachers even explain, and disappears as soon as the class ends.”
It seemed to both you and Oscar that you were both everywhere. When you’re studying in the library, he’s there escaping from Saddie and her entourage. Oscar would pull up the chair across from you and sit down to study, you’d glance up before going back to your books. And then one day he had a question he couldn’t answer so then you started explaining it to him, that turned to you always helping him in all the things he either missed or just didn’t get.
You’ve never done that with anyone before, but unlike most if not all your classmates, Oscar is calm and collected. Something you didn’t expect from him at first. But other than the library you didn’t spend time together, you just met there and after your study session both would go their own ways. Oscar would go to the gym and you’d sneak out to train or train in your room. There was never any further talk about the night you met, and you were thankful for that.
Whenever Oscar spotted you around campus he tried not to stare, not to bring any unwanted attention towards you. He knew that you liked to stay as far away from the spotlight as you could. And he respected that about you, unlike many in school you loved to keep to yourself.
One evening Oscar was walking around campus, he walked in a section that rarely anyone went towards, he wanted to have time to think to himself. The night was silent, and calm, the weather was nice. It was only because it was so silent that Oscar heard it the sound of soft grunting and movement. Feeling compelled to follow the sound he walked around the storage shed. And there he saw you, you were focused, your movement fluid and precise as you practiced a series of strikes and kicks. Each punch, each kick seemed to release stress and energy, that you kept hidden the rest of the time.
Oscar started to feel awkward from just standing there for a few minutes, he took a step closer hoping not to startle you. You noticed him immediately, lowering your fists and meeting his gaze, clearly surprised.
“What are you doing here?” You asked, breathing heavily.
“I... I was just walking around.” Oscar tried to smile and seem as un-creepy as he could. “And then I heard you, and I got curious.”
“Oh, didn’t realise I was being loud.” You said and pushed your hair out of your face. “Are you still curious?”
“I am.” Oscar chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “I mean you did save me, and that made me curious to see how good you are.”
You thought about his words, he already knows what you do, and he’s seen you out of school. After a moment you gestured for him to a few boxes nearby.
“Well, if you’re going to watch, you might as well sit down.” Oscar follows your orders and sits down; you return to practicing. Oscar being a detail-oriented person started to notice all the small things. He noticed how you balanced on your toes before delivering a powerful kick, how each moved was delivered with precision. There’s no doubt in his mind that you’re skilled, it’s clear to him that you’re not an amateur, this isn’t just for fun.
After a while you took your water bottle and went and sat next to Oscar. “So, do you think it’s weird or strange?”
“No, not at all.” He shook his head. “It’s impressive, I didn’t know you could do all that.”
“It just… helps me clear my head.” You said and took a sip from your water. “Plus it helps me save guys coming back from racing.”
Oscar smiles and lets out a chuckle. “But you have training, like with a coach and everything, right?”
“Yeah, I have two actually, since I do both Parkour and Muayi Thai.” You tell him and he looks impressed. “Don’t look so shocked, Mr. Future Formula 1 driver.”
“It’s not for certain.” Oscar shrugged; you bump your shoulder with his.
“I’m a 100% sure you will.” Oscar saw you smile for the first time, and he has to admit that he liked it. You continued talking for a bit before you had to go back to your dorms.
And so after that it was either the library or the spot behind the storage shed where you’d meet up with Oscar. You may have liked him, and he may have liked you. Yet neither of you made a move or said anything.
As the semester came to an end you both didn’t know this will be the last time you met each other. And it’s your timidness that you both didn’t ask each other for the other’s phone number. You had a competition during the summer that you came first then, and so your parents and you both felt like you needed to go to another school, where you’d be closer to where your new coaches are if you want to go pro in the future.
That’s how you lost contact with Oscar. You thought of him often as did he, but the chance has passed you both by. You’d look him up and see him winning races and championships climbing the ranks and getting closer and closer to reach Formula 1.
Oscar too decided to look you up one day after Hattie (his sister) insisted he do so, saying he won’t lose anything anyways, and Oscar saw that Red Bull signed you. You’ve gone pro, he followed you on Instagram and you did too, however you both had a lot of followers to check who followed you and who didn’t.
Even though time went on and years passed, you remember the best time at school being the year that you and Oscar became friends. He’s been your only friend from school, you had many others from training but he’s the one through school. You always cheered him on, and when you saw him get the McLaren seat, you DM-ed him a congrats, but never got an answer back, knowing he probably got flooded with messages.
Oscar kept up with your career, he saw you win a world title in parkour and almost win one in Muay Thai, it was close, you came in second. He was proud of you either way, he knew for certain you’d win one day.
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When your manager contacted you and told you Red Bull were doing some promotions, and you’d get to see the team in another sport, you jumped at the chance to go to a Formula 1 race. And luck would have it that they agreed. So here you are in Japan invited to the paddock for a weekend of racing. You were introduced to Max and Checho and you were set to film some things with them on Media Day.
And that’s how you ended up in a car with the 3 times world champion on a hot lap. Did you scream? Define screaming. You squealed and you gasped, that was a fact, but I mean Max didn’t really have to break so late. He also didn’t have to laugh at you.
“I’d like to see you laughing in a ring.” You told him after he stopped the car and laughed at your hand clutching the seats.
“Is it bad I think I’ll be able to hold my own?” Max asked and you laughed, patting his shoulder.
“It’s like me saying I can hold my own racing you.” You tell him and he nods along.
It isn’t long before you’re out of the car and filming a challenge, let’s say the Red Bull boys aren’t really that flexible. It was a lot of fun you have to admit, and yet you didn’t get a single glance of the papaya driver.
Practice day came and you had more time to wonder around and do your own thing. The good thing is you weren’t a well-known sportswoman, so you weren’t bothered by anyone. Walking around you saw someone you knew, which was a surprise to you.
“Lilly!” You called to the golfer; she turned and saw you. She smiled and waved at you, walking closer you both shared a hug in greeting. “What are you doing here?”
“Me? What are you doing here?” She asked with a laugh, you both met at a sporting even a year or so back and spent a lot of time talking. “My boyfriend Alex is driving for Williams.”
“Oh shoot, right, you told me.” You felt stupid for forgetting, but to be fair you had been super busy.
“So, what are you doing here?”
“Oh, Red Bull invited me, some promotion for the team’s different sports.” You told her, and she aah-ed, it made sense. “But we filmed everything yesterday, so I have time to do as I like today.”
“Good, stick with me then.” She locked your hands together and you followed her down the paddock to a café or sorts, where she greeted two other girls. “Girls this is y/n, a Red Bull Parkour champion and a Muay Thai runner up. y/n, this is Rebecca and Carmen.”
You all greet each other before they invite you to sit down, you learn who they’re dating, they ask you about the sports you do. The girls were all nice and welcoming, they found that you already have knowledge of Formula 1 and weren’t just invited here for the heck of it, even if it didn’t matter when you were asked to attend.
After a while Carlos dressed in his Ferrari team kit came by and following him was a man dressed in Papaya. Your heart skipped a beat before you realised it’s not the person you were hoping to see. Lilly saw the look on your face and nudged you slightly.
“Are you okay?” She lowered her voice; you nodded with a smile.
“Yeah just…” You didn’t know if you should tell her or not. It’s been years since you saw Oscar last, you don’t know if he even remembers you or not. Would it seem childish? “I went to school with Oscar and-“
“You went to school with Oscar!” Lilly exclaimed and you stared at her wide eyed, she places her hand on mouth shocked at her own reaction. It was too late though because the other people at the table heard her.
“You went to school with Oscar?” Lando asked interested, you nodded. “I’m sorry, who are you?”
“y/n y/l/n, I do Parkour and Muay Thai.” You say with a smile and put your hand out for him to shake, he does and Carlos as well.
“A Red Bull world champion.” Lilly adds, Lando looks at the pass around your neck seeing it’s from Red Bull.
“Huh, another Red bull champion.” He commented.
“How well did you know Oscar?” Carmen asked curiously.
“Well, we were friends for a year, but we were very close until I changed schools, and we lost contact.” You told the group, the girls all felt bad for you.
“I’m sure Lando can help you.” Carlos said turning to his friend. You all looked at Lando, he looked at all of you before sighing.
“Fine, but if this is a plot from Red Bull to steal information, I’m blaming you all.” Lando pointed at his friend and the girlfriends, the girls were just amused, and Carlos rolled his eyes. Lando turned to you. “Come on, before he hops in the car.” Lando gestures for you to follow him which you do.
“Take a video!” Rebecca shouted and Lando rolled his eyes but raised a thumps up.
“I’m really not a Red Bull spy, if that’s what you’re scared of.” You tried to reassure the McLaren driver, who after a moment of silence spoke.
“I know, sorry, just a tense season.” You nodded in understanding.
“It’s all right, I know what you mean. Balancing rivalries while you’re competing and not is hard.” You smile at Lando to show him you didn’t take offence to what he said or his attitude.
“I’m starting to believe you’re friends with Oscar more.” You let out a laugh at that.
You silently followed Lando through the paddock and to the McLaren garage. He asked a few people for Oscar’s location, and you still just followed. Turning a corner you saw an orange 81 on a broad back, the fireproofs sticking to his body.
“Hey Osc, there’s someone here to see you.” Lando had his phone opened to video, it was aimed at Oscar.
Oscar turned and saw Lando, his brow furrowed, before he turned to look at you. There was a moment of silence, Oscar just took you in.
“y/n.” He said simply and you smiled, he recognised you, didn’t forget who you were.
“Hey, Oscar.” 
Taglist:
@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3 . @xoscar03 . @schniti-is-in-the-house . @lottalove4evelyn . @eywas-heir . @glow-ish . @lilypat . @directioner5life . 
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nanamisdoe-eyedgf · 3 days ago
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CHOSO'S GAMER GF!
i've been obsessing over choso rn, MDNI, dont remember if i edited this tbh :/
Choso hadn’t heard from you all day. No texts, no quick “i miss you” messages, and, most importantly, no lovingly packed lunch with that tiny note he’d gotten so used to finding. You weren’t obligated to pack him lunch, of course, but it had become one of those little gestures that made his day brighter.
He knew you were busy with work, constantly streaming day and night—from 11 in the morning until the early hours. But frankly, he’s had enough. You barely pay attention to him anymore, only reaching out when you need something.
He gets that it’s your job, but the poor guy has needs too. Needs that only you can fulfill. Needs that only your warm pussy can give him.
So when he walks into your shared room and sees you at your gaming PC, headphones over your ears, wearing one of his oversized shirts that barely skims your thighs with just your panties peeking out, his anger quickly disappeared.
The warm light from your screen glows against your skin, highlighting the curve of your exposed legs. His cheeks flush almost immediately, heat blooming beneath his skin.
You have that effect on him—effortlessly, every single time.
Choso steps closer, the floorboards creaking lightly under his weight, but you’re too engrossed in your game to notice. He smirks, a little amused by how focused you are, and stands behind your chair, his shadow falling over you.
When you still don’t react, he leans down, the soft scent of his cologne wafting around you as he tilts your chin up, guiding your gaze away from the screen.
The surprise in your eyes lasts only a second before a smile tugs at your lips, and he presses a gentle kiss against them. It’s warm, familiar, and makes your chest flutter. But before he can deepen it, you pull back, eyes flicking back to your screen to quickly dismiss him with a, “Not now, babe.”
Choso rolls his eyes, an annoyed expression on his face. A small grin curves at the corner of his mouth as he mutters under his breath, “Oh, so the game gets more attention than I do now, huh?”
But he’s not done. Not even close.
Choso chuckles softly, the sound rumbling through his chest. He leans down, his face just over your shoulder as he watches you play, eyes following your quick movements.
Without warning, he hooks an arm around your waist and lifts you from the chair effortlessly, pulling you into his lap as he sits down in your place. The sudden motion makes you gasp, and your game is forgotten for a moment as you find yourself straddling him, his face inches from yours.
"There. Now I have your attention," he says, eyes glistening with playful intent.
The intensity of your focus is cute, he has to admit, but it only makes him want to break it more. His hands roam your body, resting his hands on the warmth in between your breast. His fingers tracing lazy circles over the fabric of his shirt that drapes over you.
"Focus on your game." he teases, voice low and warm against your ear. The corner of his lips lifts as he sees the slight twitch in your expression. You're trying not to react, which only turns him on.
"You're needy today, huh?" you say, your voice playful but tinged with the concentration you're still giving your game.
"Maybe," he admits, fingers tightening just enough to pull you a little closer. He shifts his weight and plants a light kiss on your exposed neck, letting his lips linger there for a second.
You fight the shiver that runs down your spine, refusing to give in just yet. "I'm almost done," you tell him, though the slight breathlessness in your voice betrays you.
Choso chuckles again, but this time, it's deeper, with a hint of mischief. "I don't know if I can wait, though," he whispers, the heat of his breath skimming your skin.
Without giving you a chance to respond, he slides his hands down to your thighs, fingers brushing over your clothed pussy. His touch is featherlight, teasing, sending a wave of electricty through you.
You suck in a breath, eyes flicking back to the screen as your focus starts to waver. The game that had been holding your attention now feels like a blur compared to Choso's touch and the way he's looking at you, dark eyes glinting with playful intent.
"Choso," you murmur, half a plea, half a warning, but he just smiles, tilting your chin back up to face him again.
"Come on, just a little break," he coaxes, his voice smooth as silk. The way he's holding you, the feel of his hands and the steady warmth radiating from him, it's enough to make you surrender.
"Fine," you finally say, letting out a breathy laugh as you set your mouse aside and turn to face him fully. The triumphant look in his eyes makes you roll yours in return, but you can't deny the flutter in your chest.
He leans in, brushing his lips over yours again, but this time, it's slow and deep, the kind of kiss that makes the whole world outside that room fall away.
Choso's hands trail up your sides, warm and deliberate as he deepens the kiss, taking his time like he's savoring every second. The heat between you simmers, slowly building into something more intense. Your game is now completely forgotten, the sounds from your headphones a distant hum that doesn't matter anymore.
You shift in his lap, moving just enough so that your legs drape over the sides of the chair, and he pulls you closer until your bodies are pressed together.
One of his hands slides up the back of your neck, fingers tangling gently in your hair, while the other stays at your waist, holding you as if you might slip away.
"You have no idea how hard it was seeing you ignore me today," Choso mutters against your lips, his tone low and rough.
His confession makes your heart stutter, and you smile against his mouth, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes.
They're dark and soft, filled with an affection that always makes your chest feel a little tighter.
"Oh, I think I have some idea," you reply, voice playful as you brush your fingers over the side of his jaw. "You missed me that much?"
Choso chuckles, the sound vibrating through you. "Every second," he says, not an ounce of teasing in his voice this time. He looks at you like you're the only thing in the room that matters. It's the kind of gaze that always makes your cheeks warm and your heart flip, no matter how many times you've seen it.
Before you can respond, he leans back in, capturing your lips again, but this time it's slower. His thumb brushes over your cheek, and the kiss shifts from playful to something deeper.
Your hands move on their own, slipping under his shirt to feel the warmth of his skin. The way he reacts, a slight shiver under your touch, makes you smile.
You pull back just a little, eyes meeting his as you murmur, "Guess I'll have to make up for it, huh?"
Choso's grin is instant, eyes sparking with mischief. "I was hoping you'd say that."
The room feels smaller now, warmer, as the world outside fades even further.
The low glow of your screen flickers, casting a soft light that dances over the room as you lean in again, ready to make up for every second you've missed-and then some.
Your heart hammers in your chest as Choso's hands slide up your sides, bunching the fabric of his oversized shirt between his fingers. The way his touch lingers, warm and deliberate, makes your skin tingle. He pulls back just enough to look at you, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk when he sees your dazed expression.
"You're cute when you're flustered, you know that?" he says, his voice rich with affection and that playful tone that drives you wild.
You roll your eyes, fighting a smile. "Shut up," you mumble, but your voice is too breathless to sound convincing.
Choso laughs, the sound deep and smooth, filling the room. He shifts in the chair, adjusting so you're settled more comfortably in his lap. The movement sends a jolt through you, and his eyes catch the way your breath hitches. He doesn't miss a thing when it comes to you, and that awareness only makes the tension crackle between you more.
His hands skim under the hem of your— well, technically his—shirt, tracing the curve of your waist before resting just above your hips. The gentle, teasing pressure makes you squirm, and he leans in, lips brushing against your ear as he murmurs, "Think you can take a longer break?"
You meet his eyes, and the way he's looking at you-hungry but with that undercurrent of deep fondness-makes your resolve crumble. The game forgotten, you nod, a smile playing at your lips. "Yeah, I think I can."
His grin widens, and before you know it, his lips are on yours again, this time with more urgency. His kiss is all-consuming, sending a warmth spreading through you that makes your head spin. You tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging slightly, earning a low sound from him that makes heat pool in your core.
"Good," he breathes, breaking the kiss just long enough to meet your gaze, eyes dark and full of intent. He lifts you effortlessly, standing up with you still wrapped around him as he moves toward the bed.
The anticipation makes your pulse race, and you can't help but lean in to kiss him again, smiling against his lips.
Choso sets you down gently, his eyes never leaving yours as he climbs over you. The way he looks at you, full of adoration and desire, makes everything else fade away.
You bit your lip in anticipation as choso slowly drags your panties off your body. He couldnt possibly go any slower you thought. You needed him just as much as he needed you.
Choso has a stupid smirk on his face as he sees just how wet you are for him. All that just from touching you. Or maybe you had been thinking about him before he came.
Choso leaned into your inner thighs, your scent filled his nostrils and he wasted no time in licking a long stripe of your pussy. You slick getting caught in his chin, as he eagerly eats you out.
His skilled mouth lapped at your pussy like he had been starved for years– and to him it did feel like that. You ignoring and preferring a game over him had him angry.
Choso's anger built more and more as he remembers how you pushed him aside and without a warning two of his thick fingers are inside you. You moan feeling hiw his fingers caress the deepest part of you.
You hold his head against your wet folds. Chosos finger thrust into you, stretching you out. Having his nose hitting your clit repeatedly while his long fingers curve just right has your head thrown back and toes curling.
Choso can feel how your walls try to push his fingers out but he refuses. He harshly fucks his fingers into you, hitting that spot your small little fingers can never reach.
Youre a whimpering mess, pushing Chosos head further into you, as he takes your swollen clit into his mouth.
“o-oh fuck yes” Your cries are nothing but music to Choso’s ears and dick…
Choso became relentless, devouring you for hours, making you cum and squirt over and over again, until your cries turned into pleas but he doesn't care.
His face covered in your cum, he looks at your exhausted face through his damp eyelashes. He chuckles, his hot breath fanning over your dripping cunt.
“please…cho…choso, please!” you beg, tears streaming down your face, your voice hoarse from screaming.
Despite your pleas, Choso sucks hard on your sensitive clit. You buck your hips into his face, his grips on your hips tighten.
Your thighs tremble around his broad shoulders and your pussy clenches, around his tongue as you squeal, feeling your orgasm wash over you.
Your slick juices drench chosos face,riding out your intense orgasm. “holy shit.” you close your eyes, blinking the tears away to fall down your face.
Choso kisses your inner thighs, making you squirm at his touch. He grins before leaning in to capture your lips. You kiss him back, unable to hold back the moan that escapes as you taste yourself on his tongue.
He pulls back, looking into your eyes with a devilish smirk, knowing that you had a long night ahead of you.
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thekindlygrammarfairy · 2 days ago
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The only thing that seems like it'd work is fixing public education. I remember when I was maybe 12, my class was taken into the library and taught basic internet searching skills, how to spot unreliable websites, and so on. None of it was new to me, but having it presented in an official capacity made me think about it more often and harder from then on.
I had assignments that revolved around research, which taught me a bunch of stuff about how to find good information.
Hell, even the ability to type at a reasonable pace is something I picked up from school.
So, what schools are like these days is going to be speculation, I don't know what's up, and it's going to vary wildly from place to place. But here's my best guess:
Schools, at least in the US, have been slowly bleeding talent, money, and respect since the start of the pandemic. Essentially, kids are left to self-educate. I like teaching myself stuff via online tutorials and stuff, but that only works because I have the necessary self-discipline and underlying skills. It seems like in most schools, everyone is in survival mode, and a lot of stuf that would have been taught because it's "The Right Thing To Do" is hitting the cutting room floor. Nevada's elections are having an issue with young people not being able to sign their names, for example, because we cut cursive teaching. I don't think of cursive as particularly useful, but some things are written in it - and being able to sign your name is of obvious importance.
Services like Instagram and Tiktok are appealing because of their ease of use, and the network effect, and their ability to direct you into a hyperspecific niche. But the time and energy spent in these apps and services (having tried both, they can be incredibly overwhelming) is not spent socializing in a real, tangible community. On Tiktok specifically, it seems like it's actively harder to do something as basic as learn a creator's name. For example, Amaury Guichon's name is on every one of his tiktoks, but everyone calls him Chocolate Guy. This is not true of any other creator I'm aware of. The experiences are smaller and less lasting than any other media, but are the most readily accessible.
The "I don't want to pay money for internet anything" culture is strong, with my generation and younger. Even if quality stuff is out there, we don't want it, because it's behind a 99 cent paywall. Part of this is the soft age-wall for getting a credit card, but part of this is just stubbornness. New York Times and Washington Post, both respected and reasonably-truthful newspapers, are paywalled, but Conservative """Newspaper""" du jour are free. When I see a paywall on a newspaper, my first instinct is to get around it, not pay up. A few outlets, like the Guardian, have started working with, rather than against, this behavior, but they're in the minority. The impact of this attitude on creators on platforms like YouTube and Twitch is a whole other discussion, there's some good and some bad. But "old media" (books, movies, TV, etc.) is suffering - and people who should be experiencing that stuff are suffering too.
Third spaces for young people basically don't exist. Why exactly this is is a long conversation, but the result is that everyone's on their dang phones, even if they'd get along really well with someone who lives half a block away.
Because of all of the above, patience is not a virtue most of us have. On the internet, anything you don't like can be out of your face in seconds, and there's always an infinite void of content to gorge yourself on. In meatspace, not so much. I don't think the "zoomer attention span" is real, I think it's more along the lines of Gen Z have not been taught to tolerate mild discomfort very well. The effects of this on social organizing patterns is... bad.
The result of all of this is that young people (and I'm part of this) don't have solid social ground to stand on. Everything is online platforms and services that are fickle, fragile, and can't be negotiated with. Finding friends is difficult, and everyone's social skills are atrophied to some extent.
How do we fix this? Fund schools, make spaces for young people to hang out in, and find tunnels out of doomscrolls. I've seen a promising trend in YouTube shorts of people linking longer related videos to pull people out of that infinite scroll.
And tumblr is a good example of this. We have a mix of shallow and deep content, and a culture that's not flexible, malleable, and disposable in the same way that TikTok's is.
I am concerned for gen z. Like I don't think they're doing okay. I think algorithms and a systematic denial of easy access to facts because of Internet enshittification has made them unbelievably miserable with very little sense of how warped their online experience is. Idk how to fix it.
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teddy06writes · 3 days ago
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Quiet Days
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Eddie Brock/Venom x gn!reader
Trigger Warnings: Depictions of a depressive episode (based on my personal experiences)
Summary: When you find yourself battling another depressive episode, Venom is concerned but doesn't quite get it. Eddie does his best to help you both.
{Bold = Venom speaking}
{Why yes, I did in fact get a new hyperfixation in the midst of distracting myself from the election news, how did you know?}
"I don't understand," Venom's goopy head tilted to the side, "They are.... sad?"
"It's... it's a little more complicated than that Buddy." Eddie said, glancing over to where the symbiote hovered over his shoulder, "It's a human brain thing- sometimes (y/n)'s brain just get's- stuck."
"Stuck?"
Eddie sighed, running a hand over his face and turning to lean against the kitchen counter, searching for the right words, "Stuck in a negative cycle? It gets harder for them to see the brighter side of things, I think. I don't really know how to explain it, maybe you should ask them when they're feeling better."
Venom hummed, almost considering it for a moment, "And this will make it better?"
"Um," Eddie sighed, looking down at the plates of snacks he had assembled for you, "It might help, V, it might not. It's more of a waiting game, than anything."
"So we cannot make it better?" They sounded disappointed, almost distressed.
"No, not just like that. But we can support them, alright?"
Picking up the plate, he headed over to the couch, Venom's tendrils reaching out to bring two glasses of water over and place them gently on the coffee table. Eddie queued up one of your favorite shows before heading toward the bedroom, where you'd been sitting, doomscrolling.
"Sweetheart? You need anything from us?"
You looked up, trying to muster up something other than a grimace, "I- I dunno."
"That's alright," Eddie came to sit beside you on the bed, "We're here, if you need us."
Venom's tendrils reached out, wrapping around your arm in a comforting squeeze, "We will- wait it out with you, little morsel."
That earned a tiny, amused breath from you, and Venom's head bobbed happily, turning back to Eddie, "See I can do what you cannot! I made it better!"
"Not exactly how it works," You sat up enough to lean over against Eddie's side, "You both make it better."
Eddie smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, "I'm glad. We made some food, if you're interested?"
"Girl dinner!" Venom added helpfully when you looked up questioningly.
That earned another pained smile, and you trailed after the pair, back to the couch. It was easy enough to tuck yourself under Eddie's arm, accepting the glass of water that Venom's tendrils pulled into your reach.
"Thanks."
You stayed like that for a while, munching on tater tots and half paying attention to the show flickering across the TV screen. When you started to nod off, tucked comfortably against Eddie's side, safe within his hold, Venom was quick to tuck a blanket around the both of you.
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rafesbangs · 1 day ago
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maybe rafe finally seeing mermaid!reader's house and, like all her random trinkets and bobbles and clutter, and lowkey being on his kook ass bullshit, but secretly, he's actually really fascinated and intrigued by it all
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౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ mermaid!reader shows rafe around her house he acts a little judgey…
warnings: kinda some angst if you squint, fluff (yay) and a tad of classism unfortunately.
a/n: first fluff fic yayay also i adoreeee this req. this is so mermaid!reader and rafe. sorry it took so long to answerrrr & sorry its kinda short ahhhh, im not great at fluff i'll admit so this is good practice. (i hope this is what you wanted <3)
you nervously picked at your nails as you waited on your porch, swinging slowly in the crochet hammock that took you weeks to make. rafe's mercedes pulled into the little dirt driveway and your attention was quickly stolen.
"hey baby" he grinned as he slinked over, rolling his shoulders back to stand taller even though you already think he's the height of buildings. you hop out of the hammock and smile sweetly as he scoops you up for a hug.
"missed you" he mumbles into your hair before planting a kiss on the top of your head. a gesture, he knows, means the most to you. he releases you from the hug with a smile and you grab his hand softly, "missed you most. now come, i'll give you the tour"
he let your little hand drag him into your house. a sudden heat came over your face as you pulled him through the front door, realising how scared you were of rafe's kooky-judgment. you could see it in his demeanour, he was definitely thinking about how small the place is. how some of the wood is kinda rotted on the walls and how rickety the furniture looks. your little shack home was nothing like even the poorest of kook's homes.
you let go of his hand and put both of yours behind your back nervously, looking at the ground as you opened your mouth, "this is my living room kitchen area..." you stated. weakly gesturing to the room with an old tan leather couch that was fraying on the edges, adorned with crocheted, fluffy and wool beachy-themed blankets. the kitchen was tiny, 3 by 2ft and but the algae-green benches and the white black-splash with ocean themed detailing gave it some character.
rafe nodded curtly and glanced around, wordless for a moment, "its... small wow, you weren't really joking about it being a shack.."
your pursed lips turned to a frown quickly and you slowly crossed your arms in front of you, looking up at him disapprovingly as he continued to glance around. your jaw cocked to the side, "yeah some of us kinda pay for everything themselves which includes their house.."
his eyes went a little wide before he looked back at you, noticing your chagrin at his attitude towards your home. "no baby i'm just saying like- you don't deserve to live in a hole..." he quickly says, hands darting out in defence as he speaks but he only annoyed you further.
you roll your eyes, "come on. i'll show you my bedroom." you lead him up some open stairs to the left of the living room, bedroom was kind of a strong word, it was more like a half-loft situation since it technically had a door.
you swing it open and walk in, smiling proudly at your room, its completely filled with sparkly trinkets and decoration, your own little haven.
rafe cautiously followed you in, his eyes wide as he was clearly mesmerised by your cute little space. everything, from roof to foundation, was covered in things. crocheted 'fishing net' hung from the ceiling with little starfish and sparkles on it, jewellery boxes with coral and blues and greens sat all over the place, sparkly light pink and blue mesh fabrics hung from your ceiling above your bed, which was also adorned with whimsical bedsheets and pillows, like a canopy. every photo frame looked handmade with shells and little stones, all over the room dried coral and crystals sat in bowls or bunches. there was even a used tea cup on your dark stained wooden bedside table/cabinet (that was also spilling out all your mermaid-like clothing pieces) that was shimmery and shell themed.
"huh..." rafe began as he picked up a few things that intrigued him, you furrowed your brow, ready for more insulting words to spill from his lips but his face softened into a grin and he looked at you.
"your house is very you." he grinned, as he put the trinkets down carefully in their rightful spot, you looked at him with confusion in your eyes. "cute and mermaid-like, very... mmm, unconventional. but... i'm sorry for before, i... do like it here."
you tilted your head to the side with a forgiving smile before walking up to him and pressing your lips to his, he smiled into the kiss and held the small of your back and your chin, deepening it.
you pulled away first, "i know you're my big bad kook boyfriend but its okay to think my dingy little shack is cute, even for the cut." he chuckled a little and nodded before kissing the end of your nose.
"you're pretty cute, for a pogue" he smirked, his arms still around your waist as he leaned back, waiting for a playful smack.
and you delivered, scoffing and hitting him across the arm. he faked a wince and pretended all hurt as you rolled your eyes, "and you're pretty sweet for a kook."
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aychama · 2 days ago
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L: I told you to leave me alone
R: I know Sir, but I'm your advisor and I (unfortunately) have to supervise you too.
Raymond sighed as he read the papers in his hands while following Leshy.
L: Do you think I need your supervision? I was doing just fine before you arrived. I'll continue to do so. Leave
R: I can't. We still need to go over a lot of things, we're far behind schedule to discuss real matters which is urgent, I need you to sign the agreement of imported goods from Anchor Deep and the people in the neglected villages are revo-
L: Fine! How many!?
R: Pardon?
L: How many papers, Raymond?
Leshy turned to him with a momentarily anger. To him, Raymond was simply, yapping.
R: Uh, about... 1, 2, 3...
He began counting, sounds of the paper coming to Leshy's ear.
R: 86 papers, sir.
L: Well good luck to you with that. Just copy my signature.
R: Wait, me? Sir I can't just decide on the matters of the whole kingdom!
L: Aren't you my "advisor"? That's your thing, to decide.
R: Yes, I give advice! I don't rule over a kingdom!
L: Too bad so damn sad, I don't feel like listening you talk about dumb problems I won't be paying attention to anyway.
Leshy chuckled a bit and walked towards his work room. Raymond followed right behind, a bit panicked by the king's nonchalant decision. Leshy closed the door behind him, Raymond nearly making it inside.
R: You can't just ignore it! I promise it won't take long... Don't you care about your people? They are suffering! They are doing their best but barely surviving with what you let them have! Not only that, you've added taxes when I was gone!
L: My people are doing fine. You're worrying too much for something so lame, Ray. If I'm really that shitty of a king, go on. Fill my "so important" papers. And I thought you were smart enough to think that.
Raymond rubbed his temples after setting the papers aside. He took a deep breath. Leshy just sat one of the comfortable chairs and leaned back.
R: (God, I prefer hell over trying to convince this man child to do anything) It won't be long before everything breaks down to chaos if you continue to neglect your duties, sir.
L: ...
R: Maybe the other crowns were right about you after all...
Leshy immediately got up and turned towards Raymond.
L: What did those old bastards say about me?
R: Just the usual sir.
He smiled. Good thing Leshy was, well, blind.
R: That you were too young and naive to understand how a kingdom works. The red crown even said he was surprised that you haven't got hunted by your people.
L: That... Grim faced cat! You know what!? I rule my kingdom just fine! I'm the best king out there! They wish they were me! I can rule their kingdoms along with mine if I wanted!
R: Yes sir. You could...
L: Read me the damn papers Raymond! I'm gonna finish these papers faster than any of those living corpses!
R: (Works every time)
___________________________
It was night time when they were able to finish all those papers. Raymond had lit a candle long time ago to read better and Leshy seemed to listen.
R: This is the last paper... It's, it's over
L: Finally, for fuck's sake...
The worm yawned and leaned back. Raymond put the papers in order and set aside, before leaning back like his King.
R: Sir your profanity.
L: Ray I'm too tired to care.
R: You're right... I should be too tired to ask.
L: What's the time?
R: The moon is up by a hand. It's too late.
L: You don't say.
The advisor yawned and drank a glass of water. The King on the other hand rubbed where his eyes should be. It was rare but, sometimes, his eyes would bleed again, his wounds so easy to tear open. The cat panicked at the sight, immediately his tiredness vanishing by worry that overtook.
R: You're bleeding!
L: Don't-
Leshy hissed at him when Raymond tried to touch his face so he backed away. Raymond looked at the blood with sadness for his King.
R: Does it... Does it still hurt? Does it hurt bad?
He asked with a shakey voice as he reached for Leshy's face again. Surprisingly, the short tempered king didn't pull back the second time. He leaned to the touch, to the feeling. Raymond's palm got bloodied as he wiped it.
L:Not anymore. Not like the way it used to...
R: It's good... I think. Is it just pitch black..?
L: People assume so. But no. My vision is my thoughts. I can see just, not in the way you'd expect
R: How so? How can you just- See?
The King chuckled at the advisor's weirded out question.
L: I already know what something looks like. I know colors, I know shapes, I know sounds, the materials, the feelings. And, if you know it like I do, it feels like your whole imagination is your sight.
R: That's... Not as bad as I thought
L: You think about going blind?
R: No, heh, of course not... I think about, how hard it must be for you.
L: You think about me? Now that just makes me shy~
R: My King-
Raymond gave a tired and short giggle as he blushed. Even though he hated his job, he didn't hate the worm necessarily.
L: What? Can I not be curious about why you think about me Ray?
R: With all due respect, that's not the point, sir. I work for you, it's natural that I worry for the one I'm working so close with.
L: And somehow I'm someone you must worry for? The levels you bring me down to.
R: You make it sound like everything is just fine! Is there really nothing bad about being blind?
L: There are bad sides of it of course
R: Like what?
Leshy smiled, putting his hands on top of Raymond's.
L: Knowing I'll never actually see you
AU8WUW8UQOAPAAJUDJDAAAAAAAASAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
HELLO???? THIS IS SO GOOD?!?!?!?!?! How dare you send me this awsome gift as an anon 😭😭😭 Thank you so much omg I didnt think such a simple drawing would inspire someone to write something like this!
THANK YOU ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
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act-nat-ural · 2 days ago
Note
g’day! i saw that you're receiving requests: so is it OK to request osamu with his significant other who calls him "ochamu" instead of "osamu" just to get a reaction out of him? sort of like baby talking his name if that makes sense??? i think it's super funny that he might look at you like you're crazy at first then get used to it overtime (atsumu gives him the side eye every single time) 😭
but ofc, this is more of a suggestion if anything ^^ feel free to delete/ignore if it doesn't spark any inspo or you don't have any thoughts on it! ++ i know you wrote abt samu recently so maybe he should wait a little longer to get his turn PFFT. thanks for your time btw! i love your workssss ✨
Baby Talk
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note: I love your brain omg- this was so fun to write lol. Hope you like it!!!
“Ochamuuu, pay attention to me.”
The moment the word ‘Ochamu’ was uttered from your lips, Osamu did not react positively. Sitting on the other side of the sofa, you see his lip curl in disgust. The side eye directed towards you was lethal.
 “What. Was. That.” 
 It was hard, but you managed to hold your giggles in. You pull the most innocent face you can and say, “What do you mean, Ochamu?”
He immediately gags and puts his hand out at you. “Oh my god. No. Babe, what the fuck.” He's looking at you like you grew a second head. You laugh and punch his arm. 
“What? What did I do?” He raises his brows and laughs, perplexed.
 “What did ya do? Ya sound stupid. Don't do that again, it was creepy.” 
You giggle again and respond, “I love you, ‘chamu.” His frown gets even deeper as he stands up from the couch and walks away shaking his head.
 “I love you too, but no. Just no.”
“Ochamu, pass the salt please.” You ask sweetly. He stops mid bite and turns to you unimpressed.
 “Really? This again?” You hum and shrug your shoulders. “I have no idea what you are referring to, my dear husband.” He gives a small smile and resumes eating. 
“Now that's a nickname I can get behind. The other one, not so much. How the hell did ya come up with that anyway?” He questions, finally handing you what you asked for. 
“I honestly don’t know. I think it came to me in a dream or something.” You gasp. “It was a message from a higher power. Ochamu is your destined nickname, I'm sure of it.” He lets out a little chuckle at that and places a kiss on your cheek.
 “Sure, whatever. If it keeps you entertained, I'll allow it.”
“Ochamu, have you seen my brush?” You inquire as you pop your head out of the bathroom. He's sitting on your bed, scrolling through his phone. 
Without looking up, he answers, “It's on the dresser, baby.” You bite back a smile. 
“Not a single comment this time, huh?” He blinks and glances up at you. 
“What do ya mean?”
You let out a shocked laugh. “Wha- you didn’t even notice?! I used that nickname you hate.” He groans and throws a pillow at you. “Yer usin’ it too damn much! Messin’ with my head!” He huffs and crosses his arms. You roll your eyes and move to sit down next to him. 
“Admit you like the baby talk.” He gives you another dose of side eye.
 “I���d rather not.”
You, Osamu, and Atsumu had all decided to go grocery shopping for dinner ingredients. Rather, you and Osamu were, and Atsumu tagged along because he was bored. Osamu was in charge of the list, Atsumu was pushing the cart, and you were the one grabbing the ingredients. You were walking aisle to aisle, taking your time, while Atsumu was grumbling like a bored child.
“Ochamu, what's next on the list?” He opens his mouth to respond but gets cut off.
“Ew, what the hell?” Atsumu makes a grossed out face and does a barfing motion. “Yer such a weirdo! ‘Samu, ya let her call ya that?!” Osamu scoffs and takes your hand, leaving Atsumu behind. 
“Yer just jealous yer single. Scrub.” You can still hear Atsumu squawking when you get to the next aisle.
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cinnablu3 · 3 days ago
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Beautiful Stranger
This is my way of announcing My first Smau series, Beautiful Stranger, is officially canceled. My plan was just to ghost the series, but with the likeness, it did have, especially with the small number of chapters it had. I felt like to write something to make up for it. That being said enjoy Beautiful Stranger as a One shot. :)
Taking a train to Tokyo by yourself was scary, even after the hours that had passed on the train, you still refused to admit to yourself that it was your fault for oversleeping. "Next time I rely on Mai to wake me up." You huff reaching down to grab your phone to check the map.
Realizing you're not that far from reaching your stop, grinning how close you are to Tokyo now. 'Just another hour before finally reaching Tokyo.' A sigh of relief escapes your lips while the train makes its usual stops.
While people are in and out of the train, you pay no mind in your own little world. Your eyes begin to wander around before a figure walks in the cart at the last second, his hair catches your attention, watching him walk towards an empty seat across from you. You couldn't help but admire him, a smile creeps onto your face. Taking in his appearance, his hair was what caught your attention: a Platinum blonde color. 'Such a beautiful color' You thought.
You continue to stare, blushing, wondering how was he genuinely attractive. He feels your stare as he looks up from his seat with a small smile aimed in your direction. Realizing you have been caught staring, immediately look another way. A few seconds later you look back at him. However, this time, his attention was on his phone.
In the past hour, you have been silently encouraging yourself to go up to him and talk to him. Not realizing time is up as the train stops you grab a hold of a nearby pole immediately before you can fall. The door opens while people are in and out. Not saying anything, you frown but grab your things, exiting. You look back at the train, yet there he is, looking out the window, staring right back at you with a small wave before the train starts moving again.
After some time, you finally meet up with your classmates and settle down for your stay. Walking down with your friends Mai and Momo while Mai does most of the talking while Momo and you add your few comments here and there. "You doing all right?" Momo speaks up as Mai stops talking and looks at you.
"I'm fine, just a little bummed out.. when I was on the way over here, I saw a cute guy." They groaned. "It was like a fairytale moment that could've occurred, y'know." You huff. "He was cute I'm just upset I didn't have the courage to talk to him.
"You say that with every guy, you laid your eyes on." Mai replies with a grin while Momo smiles. "I think it's great, maybe you'll see him again one day." You bring Momo into a hug.
"This is why you're the best!" Before looking up at sticking your tongue at Mai. "Such a hater. Just humor me once in a while." Mai rolls her eyes and chuckles. "Whatever."
Walking down the halls of the sister school, unaware just a few steps away, was the same boy that caught her attention. "It's not like Y/n would have a boyfriend first anyway!" Mai laughs, nudging you. You roll your eyes before looking back and seeing him once more, your heart beats as the same feeling you had on the train creeps in. 'My beautiful stranger.' You thought as you wrapped both your arms, Momo and Mai.
"let's go have lunch I can't wait to battle the sister school students! I'm pumped!" While Mai and Momo raise a brow at the sudden change of attitude. "I'll pay it's on me!" You added as the girls giggled and ran down the halls. "What are we waiting for? Let's go!"
From afar, Inumaki smiled, acknowledging that this won't be the last time he'll see you; it's faith to see the same stranger twice. He won't let the opportunity go to waste. His beautiful stranger.
Taglist: @shutingstar @megumisdivinedogs @yapperalert @walllflowerrrsss @tomikixd @ind1col1te @lostsomewhereinthegarden @corvid007 @1ndee @lovley212
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puck-luck · 17 hours ago
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Ooh omg congrats on the 1K!!
I would like to request 5 of clubs with Jack Hughes please. (Maybe with an exhibition kink 🙈)
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This isn't quite as clubs-like or exhibitionist, but I've been feeling slightly out of the mood today (I think because I had to make a lesson about the American relationship with Native Americans during colonization... not the most uplifting topic). Hoping for something better tomorrow!
Also I'm watching a 2.5 hour video essay about One Direction's history right now. I love that people can make whatever content they want, and they usually give it their all :)
after typing that i'm realizing that statement is really meta since i'm writing nhl fanfic. sigh. ok fine i guess i enjoy my own content whatever
Warnings: fingering, exhibition, Paul Mescal in Gladiator II WC: 592
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You’ve never been one to keep trivial secrets from Jack. He’s your boyfriend and you are thoroughly against miscommunication. Your openness has resulted in plenty of fun jokes for Jack, the latest of which has landed you in your current predicament. You’re in the bougie movie theater that Jack always splurges on, sitting in a plush recliner and watching Gladiator II. Jack thought this would be a fun date night, because– well– you love Paul Mescal. 
It’s something about his nose. It’s very Roman, which you find sexy. Jack knows this, and knows that you’ve particularly enjoyed the costume design of the film, even joking with you about dressing up like a gladiator for Halloween. 
He hadn’t mentioned it again until this morning, which is when he told you that he’d bought some tickets for the film. It had actually been out for a while now, so the theater is relatively empty, but you’d never had the time to see the movie. Jack, after all, had wanted to see it with you… probably because he wanted to pull something like this.
He knows that Paul Mescal is your celebrity crush. You’ve been repeating that to yourself since you realized that it’s the motivation behind Jack’s movements. His touch had been casual at first, just tapping his fingers against your thigh. He’d convinced you to wear a skirt by claiming you’d be going to dinner afterward. You expect that his real reason is that he wanted easy access.
His fingers are inside of you now, petting over your walls. He’s teasing you, moving slowly when Paul Mescal isn’t on screen and thrusting into you at a quicker pace when your crush graces your vision with his presence. Jack also particularly likes drawing circles over your clit as he moves inside you, constantly keeping you on the edge.
“Jack,” you hiss, ready to try and convince him to stop, even though you only half-want his movements to cease. You’re flushing a bit, eyes darting around the theater to make sure no one is watching you. There are only a few other groups in the theater: another couple two rows ahead, a group of university-aged girls near the middle of the theater, two middle aged women in the front row. All in all, there are less than fifteen people in this theater. 
“Be quiet, baby. I can’t have everyone hearing you,” Jack murmurs. He shoves a handful of popcorn into his mouth, continuing his movements. He’s acting completely normal, even as your cunt squeezes him tight. 
You bring your hand down and clutch his wrist, trying to halt his movements. 
Jack turns to you. “Do you really want me to stop?” He asks quietly. Paul Mescal starts speaking on the screen and Jack’s eyes flicker away from you to check the screen. His thumb increases its pace against your clit and his fingers flex rapidly inside of you. 
You whimper a bit, clenching down involuntarily. Your knuckles turn white while your fingers grip his arm. Your hips jolt.
Jack quirks an eyebrow. 
“No,” you admit, loosening your grip and allowing him to continue. 
“Just pay attention to Paul,” Jack encourages, smirking at you and brushing a kiss against your cheek. “I’m just here to help you along, baby.”
You scoff quietly, cringing a bit at his words. 
Jack clocks your reaction, his face breaking out in a tiny smile. He giggles to himself, tracing the line of your jaw before mouthing against your throat. “Don’t laugh. We’re having fun. You, me, and your other boyfriend.”
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aurorangen · 3 days ago
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I realise there may be confusion with my old posts, since coming up with better ideas that make more sense in the bigger picture. So now I will make sense of these ideas by covering up my mistakes (try to anyway 😂). It's only really in this post, when the lore just started. Before I improvised so much, but now I'm careful with my planning!
One thing I messed up with throughout is the timeline and ages. "he went missing. 10 years ago" is supposed to mean the last time they both saw him in person, not when he was officially reported as missing to the police. Just don't pay too much attention to the timeline, but things that have happened. I end up forgetting how old they should be at each stage 😂
He is studying Law alongside a History discipline, so I can say he shares a class with Renee ahaha!!!
Prosecuter or lawyer IDK WHICH (I got mixed up) but they are both lawyers, so I have used that as the general term throughout. In my eyes he is more of a prosecutor, but I got confused with their job roles. Let's just say he is a lawyer turned prosecutor 😌
Why Vincent wants to find his dad is explained here
That last dialogue is all lies now lmao If you remember he wanted to be a doctor first but changed to lawyer after the trial, seeing how much of an impact one had on his life. The first line "Vincent, you really don't look like you want to study that" is ok. Maybe she saw uncertainty in his face, maybe Vincent knows how dangerous this is all going to be. It's a tough journey getting there hence the uncertainty and he is also very conflicted with all this danger. Overall he DOES want to be one. In the end he grew to love his job and the postives power over negatives. And ofc the end goal of uncovering the truth.
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Renee could see the pain in his eyes. All the trauma his Dad had caused during his childhood...and she understands Vincent now. It's the fact of not knowing if his Dad is dead or not, what if he comes back and causes more of that pain?
Transcript:
Vincent: Renee I'm sorry about the other day. I just walked off- Renee: Don't worry about it! I shouldn't have asked you such personal things. Vincent: No, I lied to you and you should know the truth.
Renee: The truth? Hey, let's sit down over there. Vincent: [hesitates as he doesn't know how to word it] Ok, technically I've not lost my Dad.
Vincent: Ah fuck! That's not right, I dunno how to say this [the thought of his Dad is making him angry] so my Dad disappeared. He might as well be dead for all I care, he's not been there for me anyway. And when he was… [clenches fists] but yeah, he went missing. 10 years ago [sighs] same date as the day at the bar.
[Renee recalls Billy closing a missing people case and reaches to comfort Vincent as he talks] Vincent: I don't know what my Dad was up to, he was rarely home. Probably out drinking or cheating, but he always said it was to do with work. All I know is, it's always been me and my Mum.
Vincent: [carrying on] And y'know, your uncle stopped the case saying he's dead. But I think he's alive. Renee: That's why on the first day he…I look like Billy [realises] is that why you're taking history with law? Vincent: [clears his throat] Yeah, so I can become a prosecutor to find the truth. And find him.
Renee: Vincent, you really don't look like you want to study that. Vincent: I'm doing this for my Mum. To see if I can find out what happened regardless of him being dead or alive. Trust me I'd be studying something way different if it wasn't for her.
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persephonesdreams21 · 1 day ago
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Sweet Tooth
A/N: Well let me say first and foremost. My bad guys. Lol I didn't mean to keep this rotting in my drafts for almost a year, but life got crazy. I hope you guys enjoy this
Warnings: Explicit. Oral(fem receiving) Body worship. Finger sucking. Squirting. Multiple orgasms. Willy being down bad.
Summary: You’re sweeter than any chocolate he could cook up, and Willy is all too eager to show you just how much he craves you. Your smiles, your attention…your taste.
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The last few weeks of your life have been vibrant.
Filled with technicolor so unlike the dreary years you’ve spent in this town. Between the weather and the chipped cobblestone, England was so gray this time of year. Frigid and frozen over with winter winds and a constant flurry of snow.
It was on a particularly cold night that you’d found him.
Saved him, he’d argue whenever he told the story. Saved him from Bleacher and his mangy mutt.
“Don't you ever get tired of harassing people?” you'd sighed as you'd stumbled upon the scene. A familiar one- another poor soul about to get roped into Bleacher and Scrubbit’s barely concealed hoodwink. Everyone who’d grown up in this city knew better.
“Why don't you mind your business, Y/N. And leave us be. Both me and mister-” Bleacher looks to the man. The one with the sharp cheekbones and the ostentatious velvet trench coat.
“Wonka. Willy Wonka” And he’d said it with such innocence gleaming in those bright eyes that in that moment, you knew you couldn't let him fall victim to the cruel scam.
That’s how you’d ended up with an unexpected housemate.
The home you’d grown up in is nothing special and far from fancy, but you do happen to have a spare room. One with an old fold-out bed that’s more comfortable than it looks. It may have been stupid, but you couldn't help but trust him. Want to help him, feel this pull to him…
That was weeks ago. Almost a month now.
Willy living with you, under your roof, feels oddly natural. Like it had been years that the two of you had been co-existing, he fits into your space like he was destined to come to you. Like he belongs there; the two of you working together like a well oiled machine.
You cook dinner, he washes the dishes and wipes down the counters. The house has never been neater. Even though you try to deny them, every day when he returns from the Gallery Gourmet, he leaves silver shillings in the key bowl on the kitchen table.
“It’s not much…but I want to make sure I’m paying my way. I’m real appreciative of all you’ve done for me” he tells you so earnestly it makes you blush. You sneakily slip his sovereigns in the pockets of his trousers when you do his laundry.
He doesn't know it but he’s helped you too. And not just by scrubbing dishes.
You truly hadnt realized how lonely you were until he came along, and you were terrified of losing your found companion. You’d hold on to him for as long as he’d allow.
Your new favorite time of the day is the evenings; quiet ones. With a fire burning in the hearth and the radio playing softly. You and Willy curl up on the couch, warm in your respective quilts. And read. Well, you read to him. At his persistent insistence.
“Aren't you tired of me blabbing yet?” you tease as you pick up the dog eared copy of The Hobbit that the two of you had been working your way through.
Willy gives you a grin, all boyish and crooked “Never that. I adore the way you tell stories”
That makes your stomach swoop dangerously and you shake your head “You’re a flatter, Mr. Wonka”
“No, no. Your voice is more melodic than the bells of Notre Dame” and when he says things like that to you, how are you not supposed to swoon? From any other man it would make you scoff, but from Willy his compliments always feel different.
Like maybe he’s telling the truth…
You ignore it and change the subject to something that feels safer “One day i'm gonna put you in front of a map and make you show me all the places you’ve been”
“Honestly, It would probably be easier to mark off the few places I haven't been-”
“Oh ho ho ho. How modest of you, great explorer” You tease around a laugh and his ears redden a bit at your ribbing.
“It's not like that and you know it” Willy defends “It was a lot less glamorous than it sounds. I spent seven years under the deck scrubbing pots and then collecting ingredients for my chocolate whenever we made port”
“And wooing girls on every continent?” I ask and that blush on his ears spreads to the high apples of his cheeks.
He’s a pretty one and you know even though he pretends to be demure, might come off as innocent, he’s anything but.
You’d gotten a small taste of it, and hadn't thought of anything else since. But neither of you had quite mustered the bravery to talk about that yet.
The two of you settle in on the old worn couch with mugs of steaming hot chocolate, courtesy of Willy. He’d spoiled you rotten, made you develop a terrible sweet tooth. Any cavities you develop, you’re completely blaming on him.
“Willy” you whine.
“Just try it, please. I made this recipe especially for you”
You take a sip.
The first rush of flavor over your taste buds has your eyes fluttering.
“Mmm, oh my god” you can't help but moan. It’s the most complex thing you’ve ever tasted. Truly. He’s outdone himself- cinnamon and warmth.The kind that feels like a a lovers embrace. Sweet milk chocolate. Is that a hit of rose? “This is insane, what’s in this?”
At your praise Willy smiles like the cat that caught the canary “Cinnamon bark from Sri Lanka, Wild roses from China. Coconut milk”
You look over at him, appraising. Trying to figure out why his voice has taken on that husk. Why his eyes are boring into so intensely.
“What a peculiar combination of flavors” you whisper and Willy bites his lip.
“Its become my favorite combination lately” he admits “but I can't seem to get it quite right. You see, I was allowed to taste it only once, and its tormented me since”
Your breath hitches. Flashes of tangling tongues tongues and his lips pressed against yours. It had only been one kiss but it had wreaked havoc on you since.
You eyeball the mug in your hands. Maybe you weren't the only one suffering with the after effects after all.
“Is this chocolate supposed to taste like?...”
“You. Yes. Your kiss. Your tongue and your lips” Willy nods. “I don't know if anything can come close to the real thing, but I tried”
Your heart thunders behind your ribcage. The longing in his voice matches the one within your gut, the need that had been brewing.
“I’ve spent hours. Thinking of you, trying to imitate your taste so that I could have it one more time. Spicy, but not quite. More warm. Sweet…the floral note from your lipstick. I’ve been nearly everywhere and i’ve never sampled anything quite like it”
With his confession, the thin thread of control snaps.
You’d been trying, so hard. Trying not to scare him away. Trying to keep the intensity of your feelings at bay so that he’d stay, even after he secured his shop. That he wouldnt leave you when he found success-
You place the mug down on the old wood of the side table-
“Please” Willy’s pathetic as he grabs at your arm “Don't go, I understand if this was too much but I- I didn't know how else to show you”
You lean into his touch, not away and that seems to calm him if only just.
Of course this sweet silly man couldn't just tell you that he cared for you. That was not his style. He was bad with words, so much better with his hands. To him, he’d shown you the most sincere form of devotion, crafted your portrait with his most loved medium.
“I feel the same” you say, voice quivering just the tiniest bit. His eyes melt and he comes in close, forehead knocking against yours.
When you kiss him its hot from the start. It’s wet and electric, charged with emotion. With desperation. Willy’s sinewy hands are all over you, cupping your chin, squeezing your waist, so much more bold this time. The waiting had lowered any inhibitions he might have had.
It’s frantic, him unbuttoning your blouse and you tugging at his trousers.
You need more. Need to feel his dark silky hair between your fingers, his pale skin under your palms.
Nothing feels like enough. Not when he mouths at your garment covered breasts or when you wiggle out of your skirt.
You reach into his boxers, wanting to palm at the blood hot hardness you’ll find there-
He groans and pulls his mouth away from your neck, where he’d been suckling marks into the delicate skin. “Wait, don’t”
“Why?” you’re confused, you can feel him. Firm and needy under the cloth.
“Because I want to take care of you first. With my mouth. If you’ll let me”
And oh. Oh.
All you can do is nod. Lay back and let him take what he needs, you feel more vulnerable than ever before. When he blankets you with his body, you realize that you also feel safer. Adored by this man, by this odd beautiful man.
Willy is a tactile person. He wants to touch and taste. And so that is what he does.
There’s so much to feel. Your heavy breasts, peaked with hard little nipples that he swirls his tongue round. Your belly and wide hips, so soft, so much give, he watches his fingers dig in and indent. Your thighs, so plush.
He buries his head between them. And inhales, deeply.
“Willy!” you exclaim, scandalized, trying to close your legs, but he shoulders his way deeper.
“You smell so good” Willy reassures you, his nose pressed against the wet patch on your knickers. Groaning like it’s the best scent in the world.
He takes his time, savors the moment as he peels the damp fabric away. His eyes locked on how the strings of slick stretch and shine in the low fire light. You’re so wet, the puffy lips of your cunt sopping already. And when he takes his first tentative lap, he knows that he could do this for hours and there's no way he’d ever be able to replicate it.
Nectar from the gods. Earthy and sour sweet.
You whimper as he feasts, as he gorges greedily. The sight of his dark head bobbing between your thighs makes you shudder. It’s almost unreal. That he’s doing this, that he wants you. His arms are wrapped around the back of your thighs, holding them up, holding you open.
You come for the first time with your fingers buried in his hair, pressing his face deep into you. Riding his nose and tongue.
For the second time you’re arching away from the sharp pleasure.
“Willy” you choke on your whines as his fingers reach deep into you, hitting that sensitive place inside over and over. You’re shaking with overstimulation, but hes groaning like he’s the one being brought to orgasm over and over.
He pulls his wet mouth away every so often. To tell you how beautiful you are. How good you taste.
“I can’t” you whisper, warningly.
“Please” Willy insists, his breath against your clit “One more, one more for me”
You can't deny him anything, can you?
You arch right up from the couch cushions, squealing as you hit that peak again. But this time is different, this time something inside you bursts, pushing wetness out in a flood.
Willy lets out a gutted sound from where he’s smothered by your thighs, that have tightened vice like around his head during your orgasm.
Coming down from it is almost painful and you’ve never sobbed from pleasure but well. There’s a first time for everything. While you shake and shiver Willy’s gentle, petting your thighs and tummy in soothing circles. Pulling away from your over sensitive flesh.
He stares up at you, his gaze heavy and his tongue poking out every few seconds. Swiping at his wet lips. Like he can't stop tasting you. It’s debauched. Beautiful.
“You are the best thing i’ve ever tasted” Willy pants out the vow, raw with honesty. Drunk on the flavor of you.
Wryly, you wonder if he’ll try to manufacture it into a truffle. A fancy bon bon.
You smile as he climbs back fully on top of you, your arms wrapping around him and holding him close. You kiss the shell of his ear before whispering-
“My turn to taste you”
🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬
I never thought I’d be writing Willy Wonka smut but well. Here I am lol
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cilil · 20 hours ago
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Hi, do you have any advices for budding writers on AO3 or here?
Hey! :)
I've given this some thought and compiled what I hope might be some helpful pointers, but if there's anything else or anything specific you want to hear more about, feel free to ask again. Also I'm assuming this is about the amazing craft of fanfic and not, uh, building a platform or whatever (I wouldn't be very helpful with that, I'm a nobody x)).
Share what you feel comfortable sharing.
So since you're asking about budding writers on AO3 and Tumblr, I take it you're at a point where you feel comfortable sharing your writing online, which is amazing. Nevertheless, I feel the need to once again mention (just for anyone who may be in the same or a similar situation) that it's completely alright not to be comfortable with it (yet) or not to share everything you write. I share almost everything simply because I'm annoying and it makes me feel accomplished and since I've grown pretty comfortable with it, I might as well; but not everyone feels that way and feelings also change. It's completely alright to write just for yourself or a small circle of friends.
Don't worry too much about "being good".
I will be the first to admit that I deeply relate to struggling with perfectionism when it comes to writing (and other creative pursuits). However, as someone who's been reading fic for many years, tends to be into quite niche and obscure things sometimes and is rarely spoiled by big fandoms' abundance of food, I want all writers, especially new ones, to know that you don't have to write the most amazing, perfect, publishing-ready pieces. What matters is your passion and creativity, which will show in your writing regardless of skill level. Not to mention that fic is free and in fact a tool for many to experiment.
That's not to say you can't strive to improve or be good - by all means, I find it admirable if you want to hone your craft and make progress as you continue to write. Just don't let perfectionism ruin your fun and stifle your creativity.
How to get better without trying overly hard.
Aside from just writing, writing and writing (that is the most important part though), how do you improve without making it a point to do so? Well, if it works for you to read/watch guides or you enjoy specific writing exercises, that's great, but one thing that I find gets overlooked a lot in writing spaces is simply: Reading. Just reading for fun.
I find that I often discover little things in other people's writing that I really like and then I think to myself "wow, that's really neat how they did that, maybe I could take a page out of their book" (pun intended) and make it a point to pay attention to these things when I write. Essentially, it's like creating a nice patchwork blanket which is your style, made up of your own voice and preferences as a writer and cool stuff you picked up on the road.
Let me just name some examples, which, yes, are also an excuse to shamelessly blow some writer friends of mine a well-deserved kiss of appreciation. @sauron-kraut writes incredibly polished short stories with beautiful wording and atmosphere that have a lot of little hidden things to discover and dissect, and I want to steal her ability to set the stage and hide those easter eggs. @a-world-of-whimsy-5 is an absolute legend when it comes to writing medieval and medieval-adjacent stuff, and I learned so much from her fics. @i-did-not-mean-to has a way of writing with such esprit and wit that I always end up in a good mood after, a style of narrative voice I've adored for over a decade, and I've greatly improved my humorous writing in particular thanks to her. @crackinthecup has the marvelous ability to craft extremely emotionally evocative scenes, which have encouraged me to be more courageous and experimental in my sentence melody and structure. @tragedybunny has a way of writing that reminds me of coming home to a warm and comfy place, and I will find out how she did it and how I can do it as well.
So as you can see, it can be super helpful to compare notes with your fellow writers. Never be discouraged by someone else's ability; instead learn and expand your own.
Feedback, criticism and community.
Let me just get one thing out of the way: You don't have to take criticism from everyone. Or at all. As far as I understand, the fanfic community has come to to agree that we're doing this for fun and don't give criticism unprompted/when we aren't sure it's wanted or welcome. As a general rule: Take criticism from those you would also seek advice from. Ask for feedback if you feel comfortable, and if not, that's a valid boundary to have and I will gently smack anyone who presumes to pick apart writing that was made for fun and generously shared with the community for free.
The community aspect, however, should be taken into account on other fronts. While I won't tell anyone they have to interact and believe that, in an ideal world, everyone's writing would just speak for itself, it is helpful to engage with the community. Things you can do (both on Tumblr and AO3 if also applicable/possible) include: Respond to people interacting with your works, interacting with other people's works (for example while you're doing your reading sessions and looking at other writers' styles) and just overall being present, being talkative, going with the flow.
Again, this is not a must. But I will say that pretty much all of us want positive responses and interactions on their work and that just won't work if you expect everyone to show up for you all the time and never show up for anyone else. Engagement, passion and community are our "currency" in the absence of money and reciprocity is an important element of that. A lot of friction and complaints in the fanfic community regarding lack of interaction or entitlement are rooted in misunderstandings of this fundamental principle.
But don't take this in a cynical manner. Seek out what you enjoy, share the joy and passion and you'll make friends just accidentally - which is the part that I find makes fandom on AO3 and Tumblr so much fun! (I don't even want to be a "traditional" author anymore, I want this instead😁)
Find your groove and groove along.
Lastly, make sure your writing is fun for you or else it'll become a chore and eventually get ruined for you as a hobby. This is unfortunately a continuous task as your needs and interests shift - for example you might be in the mood to do an entire drabble challenge one month and during another month you feel so drained that you couldn't do another one. Or you might want to write something different for a change. Or whatever it may be.
Either way, one recent lesson I've learned is that I got too tied up in obligations and it left no space for spontaneous inspiration, so I never got to write what I wanted to write in the moment and it pushed me quite close to burnout. Do yourself a favor and always hold that space for yourself. In practice, this could for example mean that you do one event and on the side write this cool new idea you had, instead of doing three events - which is fun and games until it starts getting too much and you don't have time for your passion projects.
Finding your groove also includes the whole technical aspect, such as which writing programs you use, which device (or none at all), where you write, how to make yourself comfortable, how to get in the right headspace for things. I would also like to encourage all of you to be a bit crazy and whimsical about this: For example I've gone to the perfume store, picked out a scent for a specific character in a specific scene and sniffed it while writing the description several times now. Do what it takes. And say goodbye to your squeaky clean search history - you will research some weird stuff just to get that one line right.
So yeah, these are just my random thoughts on fic writing and what has been helpful in order for me to have lots of fun with this hobby. Happy writing!
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astrodice · 3 days ago
Text
What career suites you best based on destiny matrix? (part 3/3)
part 1 part 2
To find out what career suits you best and what can you do to succeed, we have to look at the number under the dollar sign.
note: there are so many different career choices and the options I'm listing here are just general examples based. you're free to choose any career, and hopefully, you don't feel pressured by this post to suddenly become philosopher.
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16 - The Tower
People with the tower energy are resilient to change when it comes to finances and career. They face obstacles that affect their careers and finances pretty often, but still they can overcome all the problems. These people are strong, adaptive and energetic.
The most suitable career:
lifeguard
builder
electrician
renovator
Challenges that affect career:
fear of change (the tower is a proof that you can overcome all the obstacles, rebuild yourself and your career)
self-destruction
overestimating your skills
unfortunate circumstances (something that can't be forseen like job loss)
I couldn't find famous people with this placement. If you have it, please tell me what you do for a living 🤩
17 - The Star
People with this energy usually have a dream job, and they can achieve their dream if they believe in it. They are creative, artistic and the public loves them. But it doesn't mean that their career will be necessarily related to art, it may be something more mundane, but it requires a creative approach.
The most suitable career:
artist/actor/singer
designer/architect
astrologer
astronaut
Challenges that affect career:
rejecting your dream
being shy about being talented
being passive
"star sickness"
over consumption
Famous people with this placement: Zaha Hadid (architect), Ryan Gosling
18 - The Moon
People with the moon energy are empaths who have an ability to to materialise their thoughts. The can achieve the most success when they do art or create something material.
The most suitable career:
poet/writer
doing show business
astrologer/fortune teller
psychologist
bloger
Challenges that affect career:
fear of failure
taking no action towards your dream (maladaptive daydreaming entered the chat)
storing negative energy (repressed anger, holding back tears, etc)
escapism
Famous people with this placement: Kylie Jenner, Lana Del Rey, Elvis Presley
19 - The Sun
People with the sun energy are ambitious, energetic, they know how to make people pay attention to them, know how to lead the crowd. When the energy is in the negative, these people can get fixated on one thing, which may lead to burn out.
The most suitable career:
politician
CEO
motivational speaker
global artist
top manager
Challenges that affect career:
pride
excessive demands on people around you
being critical
inaction
Famous people with this placement: Beyonce, Justin Biber, Rihanna, Kim Kardashian, Zayn, Kurt Cobain
20 - Judgment
First of all, this arcana is related to your family. You have to check how you parents/family affect your relationship with money and career. Maybe they have a belief that it's impossible to get rich, and therefore you adapt their belief. Moving on, 20 indicates success in the fields of politics, science and education. Also, 20 can indicate having a successful business with family.
The most suitable career:
journalist
politician
advocate
scientist
philosopher
teacher
Challenges that affect career:
being involved in family conflicts
controlling tendencies
dependence on the opinion of elders in the family
fear of change
denial of progress
lack of education
Famous people with this placement: Priscilla Chan (pediatrician and philanthropist, co-founder of Meta), Tatyana Kim (CEO of the largest online retailer platform in Russia, teacher, before staring business with her husband she was teaching English), Perrie Edwards, Aaliyah
21 - The World
People with the world energy are able to carry large-scale projects. They are influential, open-minded and they are in tune with the world around them.
The most suitable career:
diplomat
traveler
travel agent
software developer
artist/musician/actor
Challenges that affect career:
power abuse
staying in comfort zone
limiting beliefs
intolerance
technical backwardness
Famous people with this placement: Timothée Chalamet, Camala Harris
22 - The Fool
This arcana makes people spontaneous, they are guided by their passions and intuition. They are the ones who can come up with successful startup, business plan, etc. Also, they have creative/artistic potential. The downside of the fool is that office job and schedules make them stress too much, because they find it hard to concentrate.
The most suitable career:
bloger
movie director
startup(er)?
dancer/actor/musician
producer/movie director
poet
photographer
Famous people with this placement: Elon Musk, Kris Jenner, Marilyn Monroe, Donatella Versace
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yandere-sins · 11 hours ago
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I also had another random thought about being Konig's platonic darling and Ghost's romantic darling at the same time!
In a lot of fics, darlings are mostly seen as rabbit or caged birds right? I personally think that kortac operator!reader is a swan. Why? Swans glide gracefully, but that's on the surface. They're paddling madly under the water. That's her! Being an operator means that darling shows excellence, but doesn't show her struggles to achieve that position. Also, doesn't have the privilege of opening up because that is a privilege reserved for the rookies. Operators can't do that. In Kortac, darling doesn't have the privilege about opening up about Konig. I believe that all readers are beautiful, so that, plus looking perfect in the surface, radiate swan energy.
And Ghost, being an extremely sharp man with good instincts can see that she's "paddling madly under the water" despite the perfect exterior. Maybe this is what attracted him to her?
A little scenario came to mind! I hope you don't mind me adding on to this ^-^
»»———————— ♡ ————————««
"Ain't you tired?" a deep, gravelly voice called out to you from behind. You flinched, all your training gone the second either Ghost or König were around, and you'd know his accent from anywhere. Glancing over your shoulder, you spotted him hidden in the dark shadows along the wall near you, leisurely leaning against the metal while raking his eyes up and down your body.
It wasn't like you needed to fear him. What you needed was to pay attention to the meeting happening in front of you, although you had to admit you had long tuned out the voices explaining new adaptions to the handbook on how to behave with fellow operators. For a while, you had been watching König, his hulking form a few rows in front of you, other, lower-ranking soldiers separating you just like you wanted. He kept shifting his weight, stealing glances back at you, making sure you were still there.
Of course, you were. You were tired, not disobedient.
"You're not supposed to be here," you mumbled back, your sentence containing the slightest hint of a question even though the fact remained. He wasn't a KorTac operator; he didn't need to take part in a meeting with them. "And you should be sleepin'. Can see your eye bags from a mile away."
"Charming..." you sighed. "You came here just to tell me that?"
"Nah. Just lookin' out for my darlin'."
You took a deep breath, widening your stance as if to put up a stronger barrier. Naturally, König's head snapped around, checking why you were moving. Still, his focus was so sharply on you that he completely missed the ghost hiding in the shadows. König was obviously annoyed about the standing arrangements, rank never suiting him whenever he had to be a professional while in the same room with you. His neck stretched, making him even taller (as if he didn't already surpass all the other soldiers), yet, when you shrugged at him, he resigned himself to listening to the lecture. Was he disappointed there was no danger? One, where he could swoop you up and carry you to safety?
"I'm not tired, thanks," you finally replied to Ghost's question, speaking slowly and calmly to not raise suspicion by letting your voice ring through the rows of operators. If König—who you were sure by now this meeting was about as someone must have ratted him out for how he was behaving around you—wasn't enough of a stress factor, you really didn't need an additional hen to hoover over you.
"No foolin' me. I know he kept you on your toes last night. Always does, that bastard. The thrill of the chase, yeh? But won't you get tired from being the mouse?"
"It's not ideal," you offered, a small acknowledgment of the truth. "But he's my colonel, and I respect him. Can we leave it at that?"
Ghost sighed, and you felt his presence step up to your back rather than hear it. Uncanny, that's what he was. That was the reason your skin turned into goosebumps as he stood behind you, shrouded in darkness like an apparition rather than a fellow human being.
"Sure, darlin'. You can have me bed if you need to sleep for once. You know where to find me."
And then, as silently as he appeared, he was gone again, leaving you with that offer. Biting your lip, you hated how tempting it was. How secure it felt to put your trust in him. You knew better than that; knew he was on the opposite side of the spectrum of the horror you were living.
Ghost made it very clear that he wanted you, perhaps in the same way as König, just... carnally. König wanted his version of you, to be with you, to obsess over you, love you. Take care of you although you were perfectly able to do so yourself. The job was dangerous, sure, but in his version, you were a pitiful, debilitated thing to care for. One that needed him almost as much as he seemed to need you. But Ghost... he wanted more than that.
He wanted to win you over, wanted to mold and bend you as he pleased, wanted you feisty yet helpless to his demands. He wanted you screaming and crying, but he wanted you to come to him despite the eery promises of discomfort he emitted. There was more possessiveness in his eyes every time you saw him, more lust, more desire. Perhaps it was a form of love, too, but it was hard to understand either man obsessing with you.
"[Name]?"
Shit, the meeting.
"Y-Yeah?" you replied quickly, not wanting to be caught. König towered in front of you, his body blacking out the low-hanging lights he had to duck underneath.
"Who were you talking with? I saw your mouth move."
"N-No one, Colonel! I was repeating what I was learning."
"Oh... I see. Good. That's good."
You noticed his eyes prying away from you, scanning the area behind you briefly. "Let's go then. You didn't have your breakfast yet, did you?"
Lifting his arm behind your back, it hovered there. Not close enough to touch, even if you knew he was edging his fingertips over your shoulders, but it urged you forward in a gesture so natural, no one batted an eye. You sighed as you picked up a pace that König had very little problem keeping up with, but you knew that not all suspicions were quelled just with your verbal confirmation. He'd be even more careful and attentive—which was hard, considering he was overbearing on the good days.
And suddenly, Ghost's invitation felt very tempting again.
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