#please feel free to ask me any questions or let me know if this blog already exists | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nakedinthetrees · 5 months ago

Text

Patterns of Your Love

Neteyam x Human!Reader

✨Friendly Disclaimer: The content of this story contains aged-up characters! If this is something that makes you uncomfortable, please feel free to click or scroll away. The last thing I want is for anyone to read something they are uncomfortable with, however if you decide to interact with any negativity, you will be blocked from my blog as a result.

WARNINGS: 🔞MINORS DNI🔞, SMUT including fingering,thigh riding, p in v/m&f intercourse, dirty talk, pet names, size difference, interspecies relationship, alien genitalia

Word count~4340 Art work created by @zeroseydorum

The heat of the Pandoran sun radiated through the thick branches of the trees above where you and Neteyam laid in the plush grass of the forest. Neteyam’s eyes were closed, muscles relaxed as he allowed your small form to lay across his chest, his comparably large hand supporting your waist, caressing your side gently with a thumb. You were propped up on your forearms staring down at him intently, counting each of his calming breaths, noting the small occasional hums he would let slip as he exhaled. Your eyes drifted to his long braids, splayed out in the grass around his head like separate coinciding streams of water. A sliver of sunlight painted in a diagonal line across his face. Everything about him seemed so perfect. One of the things that had immediately caught your eyes about him was his stripes. They seemed thicker in comparison to the other na’vi. Decorating his body so beautifully. Every stripe seemed purposeful. Your eyes lingered on the angled pattern on his forehead, following their flow of movement across his face. With careful fingers you raise your hand, gently gliding the tips of your fingers along his cheekbone, tracing the stripe toward the center of his face until it trails off before moving your hand up toward his forehead. Stretching your index and middle fingers apart, you place them at his hairline then slowly move them down, following the slanted lines of his stripes, progressively closing your fingers as you reach the place in the center of his brow bone. A low hum rumbled in Neteyam’s throat as your fingers repeated the action, your own mind transfixed on him, ”That feels nice…” his voice breaks the silence in a smooth whisper, a relaxed smile growing on his lips, “Does it?” you whisper back, reflecting his own smile. Your question is met with a satisfied hum in response, prompting you to repeat the action a few more times, watching Neteyam relax further under your touch. Your hand drifts down toward his chest, fingers immediately caressing the thick stripes along his pectoral, noting the brief hitch in Neteyam’s breathing as your feathery touches move across his skin.

“What are you doing?” He asks with a slight chuckle in his voice, finally opening his eyes to look down at you. Your eyes meet his for a brief moment, returning his smile before glancing back down at the pattern on his skin, “Your stripes are so pretty” you reply, trailing your fingers down the center of his chest, noticing how his muscles tense slightly at your actions causing you to quirk a curious brow, “Is my big, mighty warrior sensitive?” You chuckle with a playful smirk. Neteyam moves his hand to caress your jaw carefully, shifting your gaze back to his own, his thumb wanting to press over your lips, mentally cursing the oxygen mask that guarded your face, “Do not tease me, little one” Neteyam scolds you with his own playful smile, “Besides… You know full well what you do to me.”. Your gaze fell from his face to his body once more, admiring his azure skin with your finger tips. As his chest faltered a bit from his shaky breath, a new idea formed in your mind. You shifted your gaze to the side of his head, where his nearly bunny-like ears flicked absentmindedly. Carefully you shift your weight forward, just enough to place your hands by the sides of his head without having to strain. Just as carefully you allow your hands to gently cup the Na’vi’s long ears, which flick a bit in response at the touch. “My yawne…” Neteyam warns in a low purr, his eyes now watching you closely in attempts to perhaps read your mind on whatever scheme you had conjured, “What are you thinking, little one?”, “Just… testing a quick theory” you whisper semi focused as you try to hide your smirk. The moment your thumb and index fingers shift to lightly pinch his ears, you get a reaction you would never expect from him; a shaky gasp sounds in the air, his muscles tighten beneath you just as his hands move to encompass your backside, holding you impossibly close to him. His ears now hot beneath the pads of your fingers.

Your lips loosen as you finally allow a giggle to break through them, giving another brush of your thumbs along his ears that sends shivers down Neteyam’s spine, delight painting your features while watching his eyes roll and flutter shut, only briefly. Although there is nothing particularly erotic about the rubbing of his ears, the expression and now sudden shift in the rising and falling of his chest, has your mind wandering elsewhere. Swinging a leg over his slim waist and placing your palms on his chest to steady yourself, you peer down at him with a feline smirk, “So the big tough kitty really is sensitive.”. When Neteyam’s eyes meet yours, his pupils are dilated, glazed with a softness you only ever see him give you and yet… you could swear part of that look held some sort of primal challenge. It’s when his large hands snake up your thighs that you understand the meaning of that look, “Perhaps… although aren’t humans more sensitive than na’vi?” He hums, purposely drawing out the words as his fingers purposefully caress your thighs as they make their way up to your hips, his thumbs massaging the divots there with the type of predatory gentleness that makes your pulse quicken.

“Your skin is much softer… your bodies are squishier…” Neteyam purrs, perhaps more to himself as his amber eyes follow the trailing of his hands whilst they give your hips a gentle squeeze before slowly moving upward, pushing beneath the fabric of your shirt to run his thumbs along your ribs, just under your breasts. His ears perk when the sound of your exo-pack mask enhances the sound of your staggered breathing, pulling the edge of his lips into a smirk, “See?”. You pull back out of his reach crossing your are over your chest defiantly, “What? You expect me not to react when you’re…” Neteyam cocks his head to the side, that same predatory look gleaming in his eyes. You blow out a hot breath in a fleeting attempt to slow your heart rate, momentarily fogging the glass of your mask, “Stop looking at me like that.”.

Neteyam chuckles, shifting his weight to anchor himself onto his elbows, simultaneously causing you to adjust your own weight as well to stop you from slipping down his abs. The position mimicking that of a lion getting ready to pounce, “And how, tawtute, am I looking at you?”, “Like a cat toying with its meal before devouring it.” You huff out a nervous laugh, noting the way he leans to one side to allow one of his arms free to cup your lower back, his thumb trailing along your spine, his face coming ever so slightly closer to yours, “Is that what my sky dancer wishes? To be devoured?” Not ‘sky person’, but ‘dancer’ because you were not a human fueled by greed or destruction. You were soft, gentle, free spirited, and his.

Yet as you stammer trying to find the words, Neteyam leans closer until his lips meet with the column of your throat, extinguishing your tongue of any protest or comeback you would’ve conjured and leaving it with only the ability to sigh, leaning into his touch, your fingers instinctually weaving through his braids. His hold on your lower back remains firm as he carefully shifts into a sitting position, his other hand holding the side of your face, to which you have zero hesitation in leaning into the warmth of his palm, presenting more of your neck to him. A low sultry purr answers your gesture in thanks as his lips begin leaving kiss after wet kiss along your throat while his hand at your lower back drifts up your torso, proceeding his conquest in teasing the underside of your breast. Your breath catches for a moment and Neteyam’s lips ascend to your ear, his exhale against it causing you to shiver, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, “Shall we see what noises I can squeeze out of you?” Neteyam whispers, his hand making the shift to finally touch your aching breast, his fingers tracing along its peak before giving it an experimental squeeze to emphasize his words.

Your lips part as the warmth of his palm encompasses your mound, his calluses pulling at the sensitive skin of your peaked nipple with the motion in a way that has you immediately biting your lip again. A thud sounds from behind Neteyam at the impatient bat of his tail against the ground. While he was no stranger to this song and dance of trying to coax the most delicious sounds from you, it still made him somewhat annoyed when he didn’t get immediate results for his excursions. “How my sky dancer loves to play…” Neteyam murmurs against the skin of your neck, dragging his lips down to the peak of your collarbone, “Play as you like, yawne. I will have you singing soon enough.” he purrs, giving your breast in his hand a more assertive squeeze as his tongue glides back up the column of your throat, the fangs of his bottom jaw dragging slightly, in a way that has your body arching into him in response, finally drawing a sweet, lust coated whimper from your lips. You can feel Neteyam's satisfied smirk against your neck, as well as that same satisfaction forming into a firmness that is now pressing into you as you sit on his lap, “Miklor…”(beautiful sounding). Fuck if hearing him speak his mother tongue didn't instantly turn you into a puddle, then the clenching of your core would definitely do the trick. The growing need to have him impossibly closer, touching every inch of you, filling you, ebbed at the corners of your mind, beckoning desire to the forefront that had you squirming against the hardness that pressed against your clothed ass. The seam of your shorts grinding so deliciously against the thin fabric of his loincloth had Neteyam huffing out a ragged breath that sent a chill down your spine. Neteyam's hand pressed at your lower back, held you firmly against him, whilst the middle finger of his hand that remained under your shirt stroked tight, lazy circles around the perked bud of your breast, his mouth busy with adorning your neck in love bites for you to return to the lab with later, all of it dousing your body in heat, you wouldn't be surprised if the blood in your veins had become molten lava, “Teyam…” you coo, fisting your hands in his braids, a low purr rumbling in his chest at the sound, before using your hold on his braids to urge him back and off your neck, “No more playing,” you whisper breathlessly, wining your hips against him for emphasis, “please.”. He needed no further explanation of your wants, yet his eyes took in your body, possibilities of how this could go painting a string of pictures in his mind, by the hungry look in them. “Stand for me, ma'yawntu. Strip.” The command coming out gentle on his tongue as you watched you rise, his hand drifting behind himself to untie the knot of his loincloth, the minute your skin left his, his eyes never leaving your own for a moment, even as he tossed the flimsy garment to the side, perching to sit on his knees as he gave himself a long and slow stroke.

You swallowed the excess saliva that had manifested in your mouth at the sight as your hands moved to first remove your top, then your shoes, moving slowly in an effort to give him a good show. As you moved to remove your panties along with your shorts, Neteyam’s “No,” halted your movments, “Leave those for me.”. You obliged him, stepping out of your shorts and walking between his parted knees, Neteyam's hands instinctively reaching up to guide you, resting on your hips, pulling you closer until his lips met with your soft stomach. His thumbs slide over the band of your panties whilst he continue to leave kisses along your belly, his eyes lifting toward your own for only a moment, before his fingers delicately looping around the top of your panties, before pulling them gently down your legs. The scent of your bare arousal was enough to send a shiver through Neteyam’s spine, making his body go rigid, as his eyes rolled back before closing, his teeth nipping lovingly at your stomach that despite his restraint, had you yelping with slight surprise. “You complain a lot about my own playing, when you can't even seem to stop, yourself.” you protest, shifting your hips to avert his attention from your stomach down to the aching between your thighs. You hadn't even registered that one of Neteyam's hands had drifted down your leg, until you felt his calloused fingertips smoothing over your inner thigh, traveling higher and higher until two of them glide through your wet folds, just enough to part them.

Your pulse immediately jumps, your hands anchoring on his shoulders to steady yourself, “Mmn, but it is so fun to watch you squirm, yawne. It delights me to see my mate act so needy for me.” Neteyam purrs, dragging the lubricated fingers over your clit, slowly circling it whilst your hips buck at the touch, the nerves in your thighs demanding to close, which takes nearly every muscle in your body not to obey; to let Neteyam swirl your bundle of nerves and whined the forming knot in your stomach tighter, the mental leash you had on your vocal cords long forgotten, relinquishing sweet music for Neteyam's ears. “Awe, my sweet mate makes such pretty noises… tell me how good it feels, yawne.”. Your mind seems full of static, only being able to process the feeling of his fingers, the tightening in your core, your only response being to chase his fingers by swaying your hips along with him. “Uh- uh… use that pretty voice, love.” he urges, poking at your entrance with his fingertips for extra motivation. You swallow thickly, trying to steady your breathing as to try to make your voice as clear as possible, yet to no avail as your words come out nearly trembling, “It feels so good Teyam, I…I can hardly keep standing like this.”, “Oh?” and with that his fingers submerge themselves into your soaked cunt, scissoring twice to help with the stretch. The sound that breaks from you is like a song from the great mother herself, your fingernails digging into the blue muscles of his shoulder as your hips instinctively move against his hand, “More… more…”, “You want more, yawne? I've hardly started… so greedy.” Neteyam hums not sounding at all upset as his fingers curl against the spongy bit inside of you. “My greedy little sky dancer… I want to watch you dance for me…” he whispers, hot breath fanning against your ear and much to your dismay, Neteyam removes his fingers from within you, a whine that wasn't completely voluntary, following it from your throat.

Your growing pout causes Neteyam to chuckle as he shifts his weight slightly, still resting on his knees, but now sitting on his heels, the back of his hand now placed purposefully atop his thigh, his fingers still glistening with your juices now pointing skyward, “Sit.”. The command was simple enough, but you couldn’t stop the drifting of your eyes to the place between his thighs, where his cock twitched in eagerly. “That is for later, for now…” He curled his fingers in a sort of beckoning motion, “sit.”. You didn't recall how many steps it took until you were straddling Neteyam's thigh and you couldn't find it in you to care at the tips of his fingers brush your folds, his thumb gently swiping over your clit as you lowered yourself onto him, sinking his fingers back home. “Ahh~...” You moan as you sit completely on his thigh, with Neteyam now knuckle deep in your sex. “Mmnh you’re so warm inside, yawne.. so tight. Let us get you ready for more, hm? Dance…” he cooed sweetly, his fingers repeating that beckoning motion inside of you that serves as enough to jumpstart your movements. You grind your hips into his palm, your juices squelching below you with the motion. For a moment you see Neteyam's eyelids flutter, his lips curl back in the slightest of snarls, before settling for a look so heavy with lust it had you swearing under your breath, you nearly thought you'd combust at the sight alone. Sparing a glance between his legs once again, you witnessed the evidence of that look. His cock nearly red at the tip, twitching with each sway of your hips, as if he were imagining it inside of you instead of his fingers. You knew if you were his size, a na'vi, he wouldn't have wasted a second before burying himself in you, but alas, you were a fragile human. A small delicate thing that, despite whatever protests you could throw his way, you know that Neteyam would always take his time with you. “Eyes on me, yawne.” Neteyam says in more of a growl, as if just the sight of you looking at his was shredding his self control, yet before you could so much as lift your gaze- “Haah! Tey-.” he began bouncing his leg, thus you along with it, sending you up and down on his fingers at his will. Your fingernails nearly broke skin as you bounced atop his legs, moaning uncontrollably as he fucked you on his fingers.

Neteyam's gaze seemed to devour you like a piece of art; watching the each bounce of your breasts, the juices painting his palm and thigh, thrust after thrust how they pooled on his blue skin. It was almost to much, his cock was aching to the point of pain- and then he felt your touch on it's head, not even processing when or how your hand had gone from gripping his shoulder, to rolling his cock head in your palm and… fuck did it feel good. Too good. It was almost too easy to imagine pinning you on the forest floor, lining himself with your cunt and- No, you needed to finish first before he could have you. He needed to be sure you were ready for him. Your body trembled as Neteyam began curling his fingers repeatedly as he continued to bounce his leg, the mixed sensation throwing you into the merciful arms of release as you writhed and shook, mewling out in a hitched voice as you came undone. He continued, slowly the bouncing of his thigh and shifting his curling fingers in the massaging motion, letting you ride out your high. Neteyam huffed a small laugh as your forehead leaned against his chest for support, your breathing heavy and uneven. “You… you play too much, Teyam.”, this prompted another laugh as Neteyam lowered his knee, his free hand snaking from your hip to around your backside, as he carefully lowered you onto the plush grass. Once your back was flush against the ground, Neteyam now leaning over you, he withdrew his fingers, bringing them below pelvis to smear your lingering juices along his shaft, letting out a sigh at the contact, a sound that had your chest tightening. He had been so patient, so gentle, and now you would reward him for his efforts.

Slowly you spread your legs wide, bringing your knees to your chest, watching as Neteyam continued to give himself a few more pumps to ease the hurt. When his eyes finally lifted to see you spread before him, the sound that came from him was nothing, but primal need. He ran his tongue over his lips to moisten them as he carefully leaned down, bringing your face closer to his own until his forehead rested against yours. Despite the hunger, his amber eyes swam with so much Earth shattering love that you felt you could weep and perhaps it showed in your face, because Neteyam cooed your name so softly and sincerely you almost didn't hear it, before he raised his lips to kiss your hairline, once again mentally cursing the obstruction of your mask that kept him from kissing your lips. When he pulled away, it was only enough to weave a hand between you to guide his cock closer to where you both longed for him to be. At the feel of his tip prodding at your entrance, Neteyam leaned down to place a gentle kiss at your ear, whispering sweet praises as inch by delicious, suffocating, filling inch he pushed into you. The shudder that rippled down his back muscles as your tightness took hold of him, as if it would never let go. “Siltsan, ma’ syulang…” (Well done, my flower). As Neteyam looked up to take in your expression, he found your eyes closed, brows scrunched, but not in pain as you breathed, “I don't think I'll ever get used to that first thrust… thank Eywa.”.

Neteyam couldn't help, but chuckle before leaning down to bite your earlobe, “Such a dirty mouth on my mate…” he cooed, yet as you were about to retort, Neteyam pulled out slightly before plunging back in, his muscles flexing at the motion. “Ohh…shit…”, the curse natural on his tongue as again he thrusted slowly into you. The fifth time his tip pressed kissed your cervix, Neteyam had to bite back a growl. He was desperate, but he wouldn’t allow himself to throw caution to the wind, not just for your safety, but to savor this feeling for as long as he could. He maneuvered enough to set your legs over his shoulders, his knees spreading wider through the grass as he scooped an arm beneath your shoulders, pressing your front flush against his own seamlessly, like he was trying to get as close to you as possible- to force your bodies to become one and when he rolled his hips again, you rolled yours with him. Neteyam's ears pressed flat against the sides of his head and he let out a soft whimper, he was content to stay like this forever. “Teyam, please…” You begged, rolling your hips before he could move again, giving his cock a loving squeeze with a clench of your inner walls and with it, an invisible tether had broken loose. Neteyam reeled his hips back at the same steady pace he had, but when he drove back in, your body bucked with his. “Fuck! yes… like that… please.” and he did, again and again, faster, harder, until it was all he could do to bring your hips down onto each of his thrusts, driving your back into the grass each time. His lips were in a frenzy on your ears, neck and chest; wherever he could reach, you decorated your skin in wet kisses, nips, and licks and you couldn't find it within you to give a shit about how many marks he was leaving, not when it meant he was putting his claim on you in the most intimate way he could, Your body writhed and bucked beneath him, your legs that had been barking for being in the same position too long, had become an after thought as one ograsm began as another ended.

Only when Neteyam pulled away, wrapping your legs around his slim waist did you suddenly remember they needed relief, yet the euphoria of it was short lived as you were hauled into his lap, both arms wrapping around you as he somehow drove himself deeper at the new angle. Neteyam buried his face between your neck and shoulder, his grunts and moans lingering in your ear. He was close, the breathless whines that new fell from his lips indicated as much. So close you could feel the restraint in his thrusts, where one moment he pistoned into you, filling the space around you with wet slapping, the next he held your pelvis flush against his own as he ground himself into you. Your brows furrowed through your mask as his whines became more pitched, desperate you realized, like the finish line was nearly there, yet somehow out of reach. So you did what you could, clinging to him and whispering in his ear between moans, “I love you.”, “I love you.”, “My mate.”, “Mine.”, it was the last two words that clanged through him like a burst of energy as Neteyam gave a few rough thrusts, bringing your body to meet them each time, that he finally went over the edge, spilling as much of his seed as he could into you before it began to spill where you were still connected.

The moment he stilled inside of you, you both let out a sigh in unison, your bodies drenched with sweat, skin hot and sticky to the touch. It was when you each pulled back to look at each other that Neteyam’s eyes widened, taking in your body before him. “What? What's wrong?” You immediately ask, following his gaze, but that was all the proof you needed. From what you could see, your chest was littered with redish-purple spots, which you could only assume were on your neck as well, and then the embarrassment of having to walk into the lab like this hit. Neteyam merely laughed, trying as gentle as possible to lay you back down on the grass, withdrawing himself from you before laying on his side beside you. “You say my stripes are pretty, but I must say… I do find spots to be a good look on you.” then you laughed with him only after feining disapproval at his joke, giving his shoulder a playful shove before snuggling into his warmth.

Even rereading this story I'm super proud with how it turned out. I hope it holds up to everyone who read it previously and that new readers enjoy it as well.♡

Tag list: @luvv4j4ybe11, @sullybothersmate ,@yourfavwh0r3 @Awiltedpeony @xylianasblog @pandoraslxna @blue-slxt @hotdsworld @itchaboi-itchyboy @erenjaegerwifee

If you would like to be added or removed from a specific taglist, just let me know!

#avatar #avatar the way of water #Atwow #atwow fanfiction #avatar fanfiction #avatar smut #Neteyam #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam sully #neteyam smut #aged up characters #aged up au #neteyam x reader #Neteyam x y/n #neteyam x human reader

1K notes · View notes

makingqueerhistory · 10 months ago

Note

I have a somewhat odd question. In June, I was part of creating an online Pride Shabbat for queer Jews unable or unwilling to go to Pride in their home area due to the rise in antisemitism, and as part of it, I wrote a memorial/Kaddish meditation about queer people across time and space. It’s fair to say I couldn’t have done it without MQH, which featured heavily in my research of historical queer figures.

I want to share the piece on Tumblr because I think some folks with progressive synagogues might like it, or may simply find it personally meaningful. Here comes the question: in any other time, I’d find it absolutely abhorrent to share it without crediting you for the time, love, effort, and care you’ve put into MQH that made my job so much simpler. But times being what they are, I don’t feel it’s right to do so indiscriminately, because I’m all too aware you may face splash damage for being associated with a filthy Bad Jew who doesn’t disavow all of Judaism etc. etc.

As a result, I feel obligated to ask if you’d prefer I omit your name from the post, especially since you’re trying to make MQH financially solvent. Please let me know, so I can decide how to structure my post.

Okay this is a complicated question. I will admit I was initially quite confused by the second paragraph of this, until I checked your blog. I realized quickly that you are refering to the fact that you're a Zionist.

I feel like I have been very public about the fact that I oppose Zionism, but in case I haven't been obvious enough, I want to say it clearly:

I learned about anti-Zionism and the movement to free Palestine from almost exclusively Jewish voices. People who have been referred to as "self-hating" when I post about them. They are voices I didn't seek out for their opinions on Palestine, but who shared their opinions with a level of love and passion that I admire deeply. They have gifted me with time and education, and they are the only reason I believe what I do today. Without these Jewish voices, I do believe I could have lost myself in the deliberate obfuscation that happens around this issue.

All of this being said, yes, please do share that I was able to help share queer stories that informed what you have created. But know, that everything I have made comes from a deep love and passion for justice that includes the Palestinian people.

#answered #I hope I answered this well #I admit to not being even close to an expert about how to speak out about this specific issue #but I wanted to share my experience

1K notes · View notes

exweirdkid · 1 year ago

Text

too sweet 𐙚 abby anderson

a/n: smut!! fingering & oral (r|receiving), implied strap usage // men & minors dni!

imagine being a fem little girlblogger in all of your free time. always at the library, or a local coffee shop, leeching off of the free wifi just to make girly posts on tumblr. the pretty blonde barista stands nervously behind the counter, glancing up at you every now and then.

abby writes her number on your cup that day, and keeps her phone within earshot so she can be the first to hear the beautiful ding of your phone texting hers.

you talk, and talk, and talk, and eventually you're texting so much you don't have any time for your girlblog. you know how much you love being girly and creative and how easy it is to do it online, so you offer to stop by the cafe so when abby clocks out you can leave together.

something about being so feminine around such a boulder of a woman makes you clench around nothing all night, until abby finally clocks out.

on the drive to her little apartment, you can't help but rub your thighs together, trying not to alert abby to the growing wet spot in your panties. you chew on your lip, hoping for a moment of peace as abby pulls into her parking spot.

if abby noticed, she never gave you any indication of it.

inside, abby presses a heavy kiss on your lips before she changes and settles into the couch. you feel the throbbing in your cunt grow heavier, louder, as she casually spreads out on the couch.

"coming?" she asks, and you can't help inwardly shrink at the double entendre.

there is a lazy, bored smirk pulling at her lips as you sit beside her, clearly worked up and just begging for relief.

"what's on your mind?" she questions, as if unaware of the flush of your cheeks and the heat radiating from you. she flicks through netflix boringly.

you shrug, words failing as that incessant clench of your cunt around nothing nearly chokes you. you manage to whisper, "just thinking."

"about?"

the glint in her eyes sparks something deep within you—in a place only she's ever touched. no way were you going to let her win this easy.

"i haven't blogged a lot recently, i might have to stop at the cafe tomorrow, too."

"are you sure its for the blog?" she raises a brow. "i think i saw your eyes on me more than your computer screen."

"so why don't you do something about it, anderson?"

"cause i think i want to hear you say it first." she drops one of her hands to your thighs. she grasps a handful of the flesh and squeezes it before smoothing your skin flat

"i-" she squeezes your thigh again, tight, before her fingers drift higher. you swallow hard.

she drops her head so that her lips are right by your ear. "if you say it i'll fuck you right here."

"i want you to. please." you sound desperate as you finally answer.

"want me to what?" the tips of her fingers ghost along the apex of your thighs. your throat tightens.

you inhale sharply as she puts pressure right above your clit. she removes it as soon as a wave of pleasure fills your belly. "jesus, abby. i want you to fuck me."

her lips ghost your earlobe before she begins placing soft kisses along the side of your face, your cheek, your lips, your neck. as she trails lower, she slides further down the couch. your breath catches in your throat as she presses your back against the arm of the couch.

"that's all you had to say, baby. wasn't that hard, right?"

you shake your head desperately, shimmying your pants to your ankles as she settles her thick hands on your thighs. you nearly choke at the sight of abby already splitting you open just by being in between your legs.

she squeezes your thigh in reassurance before her tongue ghosts your panty-covered core. you whine. it's so good, but nowhere near enough for you. she kitten licks your cunt once more before she flattens her tongue against you. her hands hook under your ass, thumbs pressing your inner thighs away from your heat.

with one finger, she pulls your ruined panties to the side, almost marveling at the sight of you dripping before her.

she wastes no time before diving in, tongue exploring and caressing every fold and crevice of your hot mound. you can't help but whine and moan, can't hold it in anymore. you've been pent up all day, you and abby know it isn't going to be much more before your first orgasm.

she pulls your hips impossibly closer to her face just as she dips her tongue into your dripping hole. a heavy moan rips through you as she works the thick muscle in and out again. her nose rubs up against your clit so perfectly you thread your fingers through her hair.

she groans as you tug her hair, the sound reverberating through your cunt. you moan again, bucking your hips against her.

when she removes her tongue from you, you feel the pad of her middle finger press against your warmth. she circles your clit with her tongue as she slides her finger in.

she works it in slowly as you tug harder at her hair. she lets you grind into her face, whimpering and whining for the release you've wanted all day.

"such a good girl waiting for me, asking me so nicely." abby mutters, hardly able to take her mouth off your pussy long enough to get the sentence out.

you moan sharply as she presses another finger into you. "please, abby—" she works the two in and out of you, feeling your walls clench tight on her.

"so fucking wet for me."

you can't find it in you to but do anything but sob as she sucks on your clit and curls her fingers deep in you. you are so, so close. you could see stars behind your eyes and feel the heat of your climax as she pounds into your sensitive spot.

"my pretty girl." and you nearly break.

you come with a shout, abby's hand never stopping, her tongue still on your clit. you buck your hips against her and ride out every delicious wave of pleasure that hits you until you ache and have to wrap your hand around abby's to get her to stop pounding into you.

"so fucking pretty, baby." abby leaves sloppy kisses against your thighs, cleaning your release with her tongue before catching you in a soft kiss, still tasting of you. "c'mon, open up, pretty."

her wet fingers press against your lips and you open your mouth for her, letting her slip her fingers inside. you lick yourself off her fingers, savoring the weight of her on your tongue, the taste of you.

as she leans forward and presses her covered cunt against yours, you feel a bulge tickle your clit.

"are you thinking what i'm thinking?" she asks teasingly, pulling her fingers from your mouth.

#abby anderson smut #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson #tlou #x reader #abby tlou

1K notes · View notes

nomorezerocomments · 2 months ago

Text

No More Zero Comments Project

Hi! Here's a big masterpost for everything you need to know about this project!

The No More Zero Comments (NM0C) Project is dedicated to reducing the number of fics on AO3 with no comments. This is a multifandom community effort with very few rules which you can very easily undertake alone, but hey, why not join us?

The goal is simple: find fics with no comments, read them and leave the author a comment. If you want, you can go out and find fics on your own, but we also have a handy spreadsheet full of fics for you to browse!

You can find the spreadsheet here. There are tonnes of different fandoms to choose from. It will be updated regularly with new fics, so check back as often as you like.

Do you have a fic with zero comments? You can submit it here to be added to the spreadsheet. There is no limit to how many you can submit, and no limits on what you can submit. Any fandom, any category, any rating, no matter how old it is. Yes, even explicit fics. We aren't picky around here. You can also submit other people's fics if you wish.

All I ask is, if you submit your own fics, try and comment on some too! Balance, equality, etc.

The only real rule for submissions is no AI. This blog is vehemently anti-AI and will not accept any fics that use it.

If you read a fic from the spreadsheet, please let me know here so I can remove the fic from the spreadsheet. If you see a fic on the spreadsheet that has a comment, don't fret. I'll get around to removing it soon. Admin's timezone is GMT and I'm most active in the evenings.

Have a question? Feel free to ask!

A few more bits and pieces of information under the cut!

Who runs this blog?

That'd be me, Izak, better known as @lightningzombie! I run this blog alone for now. And yes, I did put my own fics into the spreadsheet. I put it up to a vote and people said I could!

Why did you decide to do this?

Frustration with the lack of comments on my fics and the death of comment culture in general. Bewilderment when I saw a fic that had 1200 kudos and no comments. The joy that leaving 100 comments and receiving 20+ during the Febuwhump commentfest brought me. Boredom. Many reasons!

Is there a prize/competition?

Nope! No incentives whatsoever. Just the joy of fan fiction, of commenting, and community spirit.

Will you do events?

Yes, I plan to! I'm not sure what yet, though.

"I don't know how to comment!"

Yes, you do. "I like this" is a comment. "How dare you do that to [insert blorbo here]" is a comment. "<3" is a comment. "KAJSDAKSDHJ WHYYYYY????" is a comment. "I am rapidly approaching your location" is a comment. Just be kind!

How long will it take me to get a comment?

Dunno. Some people get them within minutes, some hours, some days. Depends on many things. Be patient!

I submitted something but it hasn't been added or removed

I run this blog and the spreadsheet completely alone and manually. Any submissions will be handled as and when i have time. Be patient with me, I'll get to it!

Happy commenting! <3

#nomorezerocomments

265 notes · View notes

team-chaotix-week · 2 months ago

Text

They're finally here!!!

Team Chaotix Week 2025:

May 1st - 7th

---

Day 3 has two prompts because I know some may not have read/don't like the comics. You can choose one or the other, or do both

Day 7 is a free prompt! Let your imagination run wild!

If you have any questions, comments or anything else, the ask box is always open!

Please use the event tags so I can see your posts. Feel free to tag the blog as well.

Just a reminder, this week focuses on friendship and family dynamics, and welcomes all types of media (excluding AI generated). However, since the event is family/friendship focused, please don't submit shipping content.

Not all three characters need to be there to fill prompts, and you can start working on the prompts as soon as they're out. However, please try to withhold posting them until the week of the event itself.

And lastly, huge thanks to my sister for making this poster after I explained the new sonic hyperfixation starting with a 'dont judge me' text.

---

FAQ:

(I'll keep updating this as questions come in)

What does noir mean?

Can we include Mighty and Ray?

Can we combine prompts?

How to draw Vector (guides and tutorials)

Can we include Archie characters/members?

Can they interact with other characters in the Sonic universe?

Can we do a prompt more than once?

Can we include a ship in the background?

Transparent version of logo?

Do you have any good examples for noir fashion/attire?

Can we include violence, blood and/or swearing?

References for the inside of the agency?

Can we include OC's?

Posting prompts on different days/deadlines?

#its finally here!#espio the chameleon #vector the crocodile #charmy bee #team chaotix #team chaotix week 2025 #FAQ #faq post #frequently asked questions #prompts #prompt post #tcw admin post

294 notes · View notes

mattybsgroupie · 8 months ago

Text

— 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: 𝓂𝒶𝓉𝓉𝓎𝒷𝓈𝑔𝓇𝑜𝓊𝓅𝒾𝑒

— ᴏɴᴇ ʏᴇᴀʀ ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟ

MASTERLISTS

matt sturniolo masterlist

chris sturniolo masterlist

blurbs masterlist

LINKS & TAGS

for asks, requests and chats ➳ ask maria

for matt only ➳ maria writes matt

for chris only ➳ maria writes chris

— ABOUT ME

MARIA. 21. native + italian. internationalist. cinephile. writer. friend. lover. good old rock n roll music — beatles, eagles, doors, elvis. assistant professor, aspiring diplomat. politics. cherry cigarettes. books. jesus. midwest swamps.

my main account is @mattybsgroup1e. that's where i'll be liking and following you guys from. i'm pretty chill and silly so feel free to dm or inbox me whenever you want (and yes, you can call me mommy)

— RULES

this is strictly a smut blog — i won't be writing anything that does not contain smut. my content ranges from vanilla to extremely kinky, please make sure to check before you read.

this content is not for minors. i don't necessarily mind minors reading my fics or interacting with me, but i draw the line at flirting or any type of sexual connotation and i’d like to be respected on these terms. if we’re interacting, please let me know your age and preferably display it on your blog.

i don't do drama. please do not put my name out there or send names on my inbox. i don't wanna be partaking in any of it.

i will not tolerate hate towards me or my friends on my inbox. you are getting blocked. this also goes for triggering topics.

i will not answer personal questions on my inbox. i take care of my privacy and if you wanna know more about me, dm me and we can talk.

if you have any issues with me, please reach out and we’ll immediately fix it. my dms are always open so if there’s anything i’ve done that somehow bothered you, please let me know.

i do not consent with copying, stealing or translating my work. if you use my work as inspo, please give me credits.

currently taken anons: ❤️‍🔥🪷✨🧸🪩💌💊💸🫀🍀🫐🪽💫💋😵‍💫🐞🦇🧃⚡️🌺🧩

if you want to be tagged in my new stories, please leave a 🌸 emoji in the comments down below!

requests are always open — i might take some time to post but i’ll definitely write it, please be patient with me. same goes for my inbox and dms, come talk to me whenever you want!

#ask maria #maria’s blurbs #sub!matt #sub!chris

697 notes · View notes

verstappenverse · 8 months ago

Text

Under The Radar

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: The strain of secrecy begins to weigh on a hidden relationship

Author's Note: Hello everyone! Long-time writer and F1 fan, first-time poster (on this new account, side blog for now). I’d love to hear your thoughts, so feel free to share any feedback or ask any questions. And if you have any requests, please send them my way!

Masterlist

The lights of Monaco glimmered outside the hotel suite’s window, a soft glow against the night sky. It had always been your sanctuary away from the cameras, the fans, the noise. Max leaned against the doorframe, watching you from across the room. You sat on the plush couch scrolling aimlessly through your phone, your mind clearly somewhere else.

It had been weeks now. Weeks of whispered conversations, stolen moments, and fleeting glances that no one else could catch. The secrecy had once felt thrilling, but now, it felt like a cage one you weren’t sure you could stay in any longer.

“Hey,” Max’s voice broke through the quiet. “You okay?”

You glanced up at him, your chest tightening. You weren’t sure how to explain it anymore. The late-night rendezvous, the pretending you were just friends… it was becoming too much. It wasn’t that your feelings had changed, but hiding that love pretending it didn’t exist was starting to tear you apart.

“I’m fine,” you mumbled though your tone betrayed you.

Max stepped forward, his brow furrowing as he crouched down in front of you. He tilted his head, trying to meet your eyes. “You don’t sound fine.”

You bit your lip, struggling to keep the emotions at bay, but the weight of it all was too much tonight. “Max…” you began, but the words caught in your throat. How could you tell him how lonely you were even when he was right there with you?

He reached for your hand, his touch gentle yet grounding. “Talk to me.”

Your chest rose with a deep, shaky breath. “I don’t know if I can keep doing this.”

His grip tightened slightly, a flicker of panic crossing his blue eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… hiding. Pretending we’re nothing more than friends when we’re out there. It’s exhausting Max.” Your voice cracked, the rawness of your emotions surfacing. “It feels like we’re living half a life, and I’m starting to wonder if that’s all we’ll ever have.”

Max’s gaze softened as he sat next to you, pulling you close. “I know it’s hard,” he murmured, resting his chin atop your head. “But you know why we’re doing this. The media…they always manage to turn something amazing into something ugly.”

You pulled away slightly looking up at him, your eyes searching his. “But why does it have to be a secret? I don’t care about the media. I care about us. And it feels like… like I’m not even a part of your life when we’re out there.”

He winced, guilt flashing across his face. “It’s not like that.”

“Then what is it like Max? Because I don’t know anymore,” you admitted, your voice small. You had never imagined feeling so distant from someone you loved so much.

Max sighed, running a hand through his hair as he considered his words. “I’m trying to protect you. If everyone knew, they’d never leave you alone, paparazzi, fans, the team… they’d pry into every part of our relationship. It would change everything.”

“But maybe that’s what needs to happen,” you whispered, your heart pounding in your chest. “Maybe it’s time we stop hiding and face whatever comes together.”

His eyes met yours, and for a moment neither of you spoke. You could see the internal struggle playing out in his mind. He was so used to being in control, used to protecting everything he cared about, but in doing so he was losing you.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I thought this was the best way to keep us happy. But if it’s hurting you…”

You reached up, cupping his face, your thumb brushing over his cheek. “I don’t need you to keep me safe from the world, Max. I need you to let me in.”

He leaned into your touch closing his eyes as if grounding himself in the moment. When he opened them again there was a new resolve in his gaze. “You’re right,” he said quietly. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to hide. If this is what you need then we’ll make it work. Together.”

Relief flooded through you, though a part of you still feared the consequences of stepping into the spotlight, but with Max by your side, maybe — just maybe — it wouldn’t be as overwhelming as you thought.

“Thank you,” you whispered, resting your forehead against his. “I just want to be with you, Max. No more hiding.”

He smiled softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “No more hiding,” he promised.

As you sat there together, the weight on your chest began to lift. It wouldn’t be easy, there would be challenges ahead, scrutiny from every angle, but for the first time in weeks you felt hopeful, and most importantly you didn’t feel alone.

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen x you #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen oneshot #max verstappen blurb

417 notes · View notes

tangyneon · 1 month ago

Text

too busy being yours

Gojo has no need for the sun to break through the dark clouds of rain, when you're standing in front of him, frowning so sweetly at him.

There's nothing brighter than you in his eyes—be they Six, or be they just two—in any case.

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader tags: teen!gojo; fluffy and not-too-mildly sappy; lovesick gojo; realisation of feelings; gojo loves you while you tolerate him; he's somewhat obsessed with you but not in a toxic way—yet; very heavy on the 'one-sided enemies to lovers' vibes; word count–2487. warnings: implied bullying—gojo isn't involved!! but that doesn't mean he isn't a warning—the boy very much is, along with his extreme want to be your knight in shining armour and beat the bad guys up. this is a sequel of sorts to 'it was over from the start', but please feel free to treat it as a stand-alone if you wanna!! notes: not me rewriting and reposting one of my most popular works from my old blog—ONCE MORE!!!! the fic title is from "Do I Wanna Know?" by Arctic Monkeys. hope you'll enjoy reading this!! ❤️❤️

Gojo believes, there exist two kinds of people.

One: those who aren't but love to pretend being better than everyone else. And, two: those who aren't, but will do anything to be viewed as the worst in the world—the latter category housing no one but you—

Tingles dancing behind his ribs, down his arms, and right to the tips of his fingers, the boy hums when questioned why he wants to meet you out of all the people he could. That too now, when the sky is darkening from a mix of night and storm. That too—to meet you.

Candy crushed between molars, Gojo grins.

"Let's just say I'm a little curious about her, shall we?"

Then pauses, grin mellowing when he finally feels your cursed energy—if his Six Eyes were working as usual now and weren't fatigued after today's spree of killing curses, maybe he could have determined your location too in a moment or so, and not have had to rely on others for that...

The blinding beacon, which your cursed signature is, brushes soothingly against his exhausted self—he adds, "Also maybe because I'm a little in love with her—she's really sweet, y'know?"

Whatever response he might have been expecting, a scoff is definitely not one of them.

Utahime makes a face. Almost as if she just bit into a lemon... Almost as if she doesn't believe Gojo can fall in love... Almost as if she deems you to be not sweet... That last implication nearly makes him want to throw hands with the girl, opting to ignore the fact that she's Shoko's girlfriend—

But he stops when she jabs a thumb to the corridor to the left.

Your cursed energy caresses his Six Eyes gently. Something burns behind his two eyes. The boy begs his mind to listen to the directions being given to him—the directions to you!!

"Go down this hallway, then turn right at the end. She'll still be in the gardens—" The rest of the sentence doesn't reach Gojo.

Nor does anything else, for that matter.

Nothing does—except for the steady thump! thump! thump! against his ribs and in his ears. And, of course—how did he even forget this—the lodestar your brilliance is to his too impatient self, too stumbling feet, this squally evening as he skids past empty hallways...

Your smile is the first thing the boy notices.

So sweet. So sweet.

It's the sweetest thing Gojo reckons to have ever seen in his life. The pretty little smile carving your lips and illuminating your equally lovely face, as you lie on your stomach on the grass. Legs swaying with the wind. Gaze dancing over the fluttering pages—

Everything changes in a beat—or perhaps even less than that—with your eyes no longer on the book.

They're on him. Drowning him. Suffocating him. Squeezing whatever infinitesimal life left in him after the past three days' missions. Taking every bit of who he is, all for themselves to glare at so sweetly.

Your pretty little smile falls into an adorable frown. "Why are you here, Senpai?"

"Why am i here?" he echoes your ask. Your frown deepens. He grins, brushing his bangs away out of his view. "To see you, of course!! Mind if I take a seat beside you?"

You do mind. Gojo knows, yet doesn't find a fault in you minding him so—shutting your book, you don't waste an extra second to move to sit upright. Nor to scoot away when the boy takes your absence of an answer as an invitation to plop down onto the grass.

Your scowl stays unfazed, he watches, heart lurching and tumbling. Falling onto his back, he shifts to lie on his side, an elbow propped up to support his head, and hums.

"Why do you look so mad, sweet—"

"Please don't call me by such terms," you cut him off, sharp and terse, "And, please don't pretend you don't know why I'm mad—acting like a fool doesn't suit you."

"Acting like a fool doesn't suit you either, darling," The boy replies, not borrowing even a moment to mull over his words. It's honestly so like playing with fire... arguing with you, that is. But he is nothing if not an extremely devoted lover of danger, so he will keep doing whatever he is doing now—plus, don't the two of you appear so 'married couple'-y right now, huh?

He continues—not disturbed, rather delighted by how your features tighten and stiffen: eyes narrowing a touch, lips pursed a pinch. The boy wonders if you know how much you're endearing yourself to him the longer you keep looking at him that way—

He allows his grin to simmer down to a sly twist of lips.

"But i'm not going to question that... your love for your family is pretty cool—" Not really. He finds it boring at best, and stupid at worst. But since it's you... he tries to deem it as neither. "—so whatever amazing plan you've concocted: pretending to be weak, so that you aren't sent to any difficult mission, and you have a 100% chance of staying alive, ANDDD your dear family doesn't have to get sad—"

"Why are you here, senpai?"

Obviously, to see you, silly!!

—is what Gojo should say. Is what Gojo wants to say. But he finds his tongue numb and unmoving; rendered useless by the sight you, your cursed energy, both have become...

If you were a fire before, you're nothing less than a solar flare now.

And the boy loves it. His Six Eyes love it. The boy loves you—

Your brows gather close. His stomach does a flip. Your voice assumes an adorably serious tone, "You didn't come here to ask me out, again, did you, Senpai?"

Did he?

Oh, Gojo doesn't really know.

Maybe he did... he does want to take you to his favourite restaurants. But maybe he didn't... seeing you has been the only thing on his mind ever since he was informed of his mission being in Otsu, Shiga.

Only fifteen kilometres away from the Kyoto Jujutsu Tech—you don't allow him to utter a single syllable in reply, however. Gojo wonders if this is how all your future arguments will be like—he decides it is not that bad.

Not when you lean a little towards him. Narrowed gaze. Earnest tone.

"Look—I know keeping another's secrets is a big deal, and some folks need some sort of... uh, reward for that—but how about this? Instead of me going out on a date with you, why don't I buy you a box of gourmet chocolates? Or a ticket to your favorite band's concert? Or a gift voucher of your favourite clothing store—this is better, isn't it?"

Better... it would have been... if only he was dead set on making you reward him, as you oh so eloquently put it, for keeping your secrets.

But the thing is, he isn't. The boy doesn't want any sort of silly reward from you—he just wants to take you out on a date. Always has, since his eyes met yours few weeks ago and he felt something strange and sweet unfurl within his chest—

Making it seem like a payment for him shutting his mouth about you, was only a tactic. A very cheap tactic, the boy chides himself, looking at the worry etched into the dip of your lips.

Slipping his shades off, he sits up and offers a tiny smile. It feels... too weird... too soft on his lips.

"You do know who you're talking to, don't you?"

It takes you a while to reply—throwing back a question of your own, "Is this you telling me I can't buy a rich guy's silence, Senpai?"

He is. He very much is. But heaven knows why you make it sound this rude—the same as before, you don't stop speaking. Not allowing him squeeze a single word in.

"But everyone likes free stuff, don't they? I mean, I'll be buying all that for you, and you won't have to spend even a single yen..." you heave a sigh. So minute, he almost misses it. But he doesn't 'cause he's pretty much focused his every sense on you—

Exhaling yet another sigh, you ask, "Don't you like freebies, Senpai?"

He does. He very much does. Even more when you say it that way with your cute little frown and exasperated little tone—

"You're too sweet, y'know?" he breathes out, hoping he sounds just as fond as he feels of you now—extremely likely, forever. "I don't get why Utahime doesn't see you to be so."

You make some sort of a noise then.

It isn't quite a chuckle... nor is it a snort... it's very cute, nonetheless.

You hum, "Iori-senpai's the kindest out of everyone here. If she thinks I'm not someone sweet... I don't know but doesn't it ring some sort of warning bell inside your head, hm?"

"Hell no," Gojo mutters in that same instant—a bit miffed at how you refer to Utahime, a quiet respect lacing every letter you say—not-too-little miffed at the implications behind you calling that sharp-tongued girl the kindest here—

For the first time in your company, the boy feels his lips collapse into a frown.

It's something, he realises you realise too, the way your lips part a touch, in something akin surprise... but not the very pleased kind.

He doesn't really think before adding, "The only bells i can hear when I look at you are—" You frown. He bites his tongue. Maybe... he ought to think a bit before speaking...

Chuckling, he continues as if you did not just shoot his soul a look.

"Never mind what I can hear... but the thing is you can never be one who rings warning bells in others' minds—like, hell no!!" he repeats. Letting some force seep into his syllables, into his unwavering stare, fixed on you—on every minute expression you're making—

He really decides to think, however. Softening himself on noting your shaky exhale, your nails digging into the cover of your book—Gojo lets himself borrow a beat before resuming.

Forcing his face into a bright grin when he does so.

"Feel free to text me the names of the dipshits who have ever made you feel bad, by the way—but, don't worry," he adds, the memories of his previous error of ways hitting him in the face.

"I won't ask you out on a date in return for that—I'm just in need of an intensive punching practice, and you will do me a big favour by doing as I asked you to—you will text me, won't ya?"

Yeah. No. Thank you. Fuck you—

You say nothing.

Nothing, nothing, nothing at all.

For a very painfully long ten seconds.

During which you do nothing except look at him—just look, only look. Neither glare nor gape nor gawk—just a quiet, scarily quiet looking—Gojo swears his heart skips a beat when you finally open your mouth.

And inquire, words so slow and soft.

"This isn't some ploy of yours to get my number, right?"

"Hey, no—" he rushes to explain, fuming at himself because how the hell did he fuck up this bad again!?!?—but as is the norm, you do not allow him to speak any more than that. Cutting him off with yet another one of your queries—except this time, it is not too slow.

And more of a statement than a question, now that he thinks about it—"You did not really tell anyone about my secret in these past weeks, did you?"

No, he didn't. Obviously, he didn't.

Gojo Satoru may be several things, but an intentional villain isn't one of them. Something skids across your face when the boy tells you as much—but he finds himself not too sure.

Thanks to the lightning streaking across the sky.

And the torrential rains following not an instant late.

And the way your gaze jumps from him to the sky, to the book in your hold—only to come back to his face. Wide, unblinking, all-consuming for a scanty moment there—

Gojo tries his best not to collapse into the mud when you break into a sprint for cover from the downpour. He tries his best not to follow you as he feels your warmth go farther and farther away, and the boy's Six Eyes stare at the trail of your addictively bright and hot—and they are not talking about just the temperature—cursed energy—

He tries his damnedest best not to shout, overwhelmingly happy and relieved as he realises the rapidly reducing distance between him and your cursed signature.

The thud of your sneakers on the cement floor of the building sounds nothing less than the best music the boy's ever heard. Or, maybe, it is the best music in this whole wide world...

Yet another lightning streaks across the sky. He twists himself around just in time to catch the awe-filled look you offer at its sight—features something out of this realm as your eyes trace its path, not even a bit bothered by the deafening thunder that sounds next—

Gojo thinks he'll die happy if he dies now.

Or, maybe, he'll die later, he changes his stance quickly—on noticing you dash towards him through the mud, face fixed in a deep scowl as you struggle to open an umbrella, and balance a pretty heavy-looking bag off your forearm.

You huff when you reach him.

The boy wonders if it's your finally-open umbrella, or you, who shields him from the numbing cold of the torrential rains—

Crouching down before him, you drop the bag into his lap.

And, exhale a soft sigh. His breath catches in his chest when he spies a hint of something... maybe fondness? curling up the corners of your frown, as you speak.

"Next time you wanna flirt with someone, try not to do that immediately after your missions—it is awfully difficult to get mad at a person if they look just a push away from passing out, y'know?"

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

No—Gojo does not really know.

But as he lets you press the handle of the umbrella into his palm—an odd look flittering over your features before you turn on your heel and hurry back into the school building—and his eyes fall on the contents of the bag you've left with him—

Cans of green tea. Chamomile tea. Dark chocolate. Biscuits. Water—

The boy muses if this is your bid to buy his silence—by giving him enough food and drinks to prevent him from blacking out from sheer exhaustion while on the train ride back to Tokyo...

Oh—it's enough for him to not worry about tonight's dinner as well, he tells himself on finding two cups of instant noodles at the bottom of the bag—

Gojo smiles.

Deciding not only his silence to be yours, but also a part of his heart—although... weren't either of them yours to begin with, huh?

280 notes · View notes

ramp-it-up · 18 days ago

Text

Muse: Two

Muse: One | Muse Masterlist | Muse: Three

Summary: You see Ari's loft. Sort of.

Pairing: Art Curator! Ari Levinson x Plus sized model! Reader

Word count: 1.3 K

A/N: Muse will be a series of one shots featuring Muse and Ari, and this the second one. We’re gonna hear from them at least every week. 😏 Big thanks to @princessphilly who basically inspired the premise and has endured me being unhinged in her inbox. She also patiently endures my questionable choices. This AU is tangential to the Peach and Knock You Down verses. If this drabble makes you angry, let me know! I love reblogs, replies, asks and likes. Let me have it! :)

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT! Read at your own risk; curate your own experience. The angst starts now. Art Curator Ari. Plus sized model Reader, dating app life, casual sex, Dominant Ari, size kink, breeding kink, nipple obsession, nipple play, oral sex (f receiving), sex in multiple positions and locations in Ari's loft, protected sex, all lies told, smoking and drinking, one night stand with zero feelings caught (lies!). This is basically porn with a side of angst.

I don’t have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post!

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

------

His loft was exactly what you expected.

Tribeca.

Concrete floors.

High ceilings.

Walls of windows that didn’t have curtains because men like Ari don’t mind being seen.

Shelves lined with art books, half-burnt candles, and sculptures that probably cost more than triple your rent. It smelled like cedarwood and something else you couldn’t place.

Ari let you in without a word.

You didn’t ask for a tour.

Didn’t want conversation

You wanted the undoing.

The second the door shut, he had you pinned against it, mouth claiming yours like you belonged to him.

Like he’d been starving for you.

Like he already knew you’d let him.

Heat roared between you, the hunger devouring pretense. He kissed like a man who knew exactly how it would end: you, ruined and wrecked in his bed.

Or against the wall.

Or anywhere he wanted.

You let him have you. Just enough to make him want more.

“You always kiss like it’s the last time,” you murmured against his mouth, breathless.

“I’m not big on next times,” he replied, voice low, certain, but there was the smallest crack in his armor when it came to you.

And you felt it. After all, it was already the next time.

His hand found your thigh, his fingers trailing higher, the pad of his thumb pressing into the soft swell of your ass, kneading you like he was mapping the shape of you by touch alone.

When he found the slick heat between your legs, his fingers parted you and cupped you from behind, making you moan into his mouth. That pulled a deep, ragged tone from him too as his tongue swept inside, hungry to taste more.

You nipped at his bottom lip, soothed the sting with a slow, soft lick, and felt his self-control fray beneath your hands.

Ari’s hands moved to your tits, thumbs circling tight peaks through your shirt until you gasped, your body arching into him. He tugged your top up, baring you to the dim light and his hungry eyes.

Candy. That’s what he remembered. Your nipples looked like candy, and Ari had one hell of a sweet tooth at the moment.

He bent his head, took one rigid peak between his lips, his tongue swirling, his teeth grazing you with just enough edge to make you gasp, his mouth suckling you until your noises tangled into sharp, breathless whimpers. His free hand teased the other, rolling and pinching, coaxing more and more sounds from you until he switched sides, making you arch into him as you floated on sensation.

Your body responded to him like it had been waiting for this. For him.

Your hips rolled against him, seeking friction, and his cock, heavy and hard, pressed against you, straining through his sweats. You reached for him, sliding your hand inside, fingers curling around the thick weight of him.

Damn, you’d forgotten just how big he was. One slow stroke, and you felt him shudder against you.

Ari was already fighting for control. Fuck. He couldn’t remember what his plan had been with you, if there’d even been one.

When he dropped to his knees and dragged your panties down with his teeth, the sight alone knocked the air from your lungs. You threaded your fingers into his hair, and gave it a firm tug, your voice a rough whisper.

“Careful, Ari. I might start thinking you like me.”

“I don’t,” he growled, lips brushing your inner thigh, breath hot against your skin. “I just think your pussy deserves a museum wing.”

Ari kneeled in front of you and moved your panties to the side.

“Fuck!” he exclaimed as your scent surrounded him. He was intoxicated by his need for you and somewhere in the back of his mind, he dimly realized that it wasn’t this way with anyone else.

Shit.

He pushed your legs apart, and you whimpered, desperate for him.

"That’s it, Muse," he whispered. "Let me see how pretty you are."

You’d prepped for someone else, some other guy who couldn’t even get you wet with conversation, and bailed on him without a shred of guilt the second Ari replied to your Hey, Big Head text with nothing but his address.

Ari looked up as he handled you. He drew in a breath as your smooth skin gave way to swollen lips that he needed to taste. His thumbs parted you, and the way you trembled under his hands only made him smile.

"Don’t forget to hold on, beautiful. I'm going to take my time until you melt."

Ari wanted you so fucking bad. He’d been thinking about the last time since the last time. His mouth found you, tongue slow at first, savoring the taste, then hungrier, lapping you up like you were the only thing that could satisfy him.

He slid his tongue over your labia, and you immediately cried out. You were sweet, spicy and so good. He lapped at you again and again, every stroke designed to pull you apart, and when he locked his lips around your clit, the moan that tore from you had his cock twitching in response.

Your hands gripped the wall, breath catching as he ate you like he was trying to collect your essence. And then he held your legs wide with his hands and fucked you with his tongue. Your hands slid into his hair, holding him to you as your slick dripped down his chin.

With a grunt, he grabbed your ass and lifted you even closer to him, spreading your cheeks slightly so that he could lick at your tighter hole, pleasuring you while his thumb pressed hard on your clit.

Your breathing went choppy, and your desperate gasps made his cock jump as you ground your hips into his face, begging him not to stop. With his thumb on your clit, he slid a finger deep inside you and curved it until the pad of his finger rubbed over your G-spot.

You flew apart, your body convulsing as the orgasm hit hard.

Aris blue eyes were looking up at you.

“Yes. Fuck yes.”

He said it into your cunt because he realized that he loved nothing more than watching you cum. He drew back with a growl and watched your body convulse as you bit your lip to keep from saying too much, feeling too much.

But you let your fingers tangle in his hair after, just for a second.

Then you pulled away.

“You done being generous?”

He smirked up at you, chin glistening, absolutely wrecked.

“Not even close.”

—--

The rest of the night was friction and ruin.

He quickly slipped on a condom and then, in one swift stroke, slid into you to the hilt.

“Fuck. So fucking good.”

Ari drove into you hard, deep, and unrelentingly.

Against the wall.

Bent over the couch.

Spread open on the rug beneath a Rothko you barely noticed.

When he flipped you, fucked you into the floor, left handprints on your ass and bite marks on your shoulder, it was possession. No sweet talk. Just skin and sweat and the kind of claiming you’d pretend to forget.

You left scratches. He left marks. Nobody left promises.

When it was over, he lit a cigarette and offered you one. You took it, not because you smoked, but because it kept your hands from reaching for him.

“This doesn’t mean anything,” you said, smoke and denial curling from your lips.

“Good,” he replied, not even looking at you. “I’d hate for us to ruin something so perfect by pretending it’s more.”

You nodded. Stubbed out the cigarette. Pulled on your dress.

“You leaving?”

“You’d rather I stay and talk about feelings? Then yeah, I’m out.”

Ari watched you longer than he should’ve. Watched you put your shoes back on, watched you blow him a kiss you didn’t mean before the door clicked shut.

Outside, the city was colder than you remembered.

Inside, Ari stared at the door, jaw tense, heart louder than he liked to admit.

“Fucking Muse,” he muttered, pouring himself a drink and ignoring every match from that app that popped up on his phone.

None of them were you.

-----

Muse: Three

#ari levinson au #ari levinson #ari levison x reader #ari levinson x plus size!reader #ari levinson x model!reader #ari levinson smut #ari levinson x you #chris evans #ari levinson angst #chris evans characters

165 notes · View notes

adrienneleclerc · 11 months ago

Note

Heyy can you write an oneshot of charles dating andrea (his personal trainer) daughter and how andrea would react

Ooh YES!! Imagine the drama, I love it. I hope this is what you wanted and if I wasn’t, hope you liked it anyway!

My Trainer’s Daughter

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Ferrari! Reader

Summary: Charles is dating Y/N Ferrari, the daughter of Andrea, in secret

Warning: spelling and grammatical errors.

A/N: i have loved getting requests from everyone, feel free to request any more ideas. And yes, the title is unoriginal, I know, I couldn’t think of anything.

The day Charles met Y/N Ferrari was a day he would never forget. It was when he was doing his winter training for the 2023 F1 season. He was supposed to meet Andrea at the training camp so he was surprised when he saw a woman he has never seen before on the treadmill.

“Excuse me, did you know you are trespassing?” Charles asked, Y/N stopped her treadmill and took off her headphones.

“Che cosa?” Y/N asked

“Stai sconfinando, vattene prima che chiami la sicurezza.” Charles threatened in Italian. The woman rolled her eyes and when Charles was about to say something, Andrea appeared.

“Ah Charles, i see you have met my daughter, Y/N.” Andrea said, gesturing at Y/N who smiled like she has won.

“I didn’t know you had a daughter. What is she doing here?” Charles asked.

“She was in Italy, I haven’t seen her since she moved out so I invited her. I hope you don’t mind.” Andrea said.

“But I’m supposed to film some shots for my blog.” Charles said.

“Calmati, bambola, i promise not to get in the way. You could always crop me out if that’s what you want.” Y/N said.

“Oh so you do speak English.” Charles said.

“Yeah I do,” Y/N said.

“Okay, let’s focus on your training, Charles. You’re doing great, cuore, ti amo.” Andrea said.

“Ti amo anch’io papà.” Y/N said, before she put on her headphones and continued to run on the treadmill.

Charles was staring at the woman, she was as fiery as she was beautiful. There were moments where he had to stop himself from staring too much because he was positive that Andrea would kill him. Y/N didn’t fall far behind, she was also staring at Charles during certain exercises, who wouldn’t stare at the beautiful monegasque? Both finished their exercises after 2 hours (I’m assuming)

“Great work, Charles. Y/N, you want to go grab food?” Andrea asked.

“Sure, papà, let me just pack my things. They have a shower her?” Y/N asked.

“Yes. Charles, show her please, I have to change and get my wallet from my room.” Andrea left the hotel gym which just leaves Charles and Y/N.

“Sorry about threatening you. It’s just this gym was booked for my session so when I saw you here, I thought you were a fan.” Charles explained.

“A fan on the treadmill? Why the hell would a fan be on the treadmill if they so desperately wanted to meet you?” Y/N asked.

“I Don’t know, to appear normal. Anyway, I’m sorry, I had no idea Andrea was your father.” Charles said.

“Don’t worry about it, bambola.” Y/N said.

“Why do you call me bambola?” Charles asked.

“Because you have a pretty face like a doll, hence the name bambola. These are the showers?” Y/N asked, pointing to the door.

“Yep, these are the showers.” Charles said,

“Alright, thank you, I’ll see you around Charles.” Y/N said, before entering the shower room.

“See you around, Y/N.” Charles said.

From that moment on, every time Charles had a training session with Andrea, Y/N would always be there. There were moments where Y/N and Charles would hang out alone and one of those hang outs led to a very important question.

“Would you like to go on a date with me?” Charles asked as Y/N was eating her pasta. She finished chewing and swallowed.

“I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” Y/N asked.

“Would you like to go on a date with me? A proper date.” Charles clarified.

“Oh bambola, my dad would kill you. His top client going out with his daughter? Can you imagine the drama that would ensue?” Y/N asked.

“Which is why it will be a secret.” Charles said.

“A secret? Oh yeah, because that always turns out so well,” Y/N commented sarcastically.

“Think about it, we can go out on a few date, if it doesn’t work out, we never have to tell Andrea.” Charles said.

“Okay, I can live with that, my dad would never have to know.” Y/N said.

“What do you mean he would never have to know? Are you saying you’re positive this won’t work out?” Charles asked.

“You literally said the same thing!” Y/N exclaimed.

“I was convincing you to go out with me!” Charles exclaimed back.

“Fine, we’ll go out. Tomorrow night sound alright for you?” Y/N asked.

“Yes it does.” Charles said.

Well that first date turned out to be such a success that they have actually been dating for 4 months which means it was time to tell Andrea. They were in the gym, Andrea was sitting down, scrolling on his phone.

“Good morning, Andrea, are you ready?” Charles asked.

“I am but i have one question.” Andrea stated. Charles nodded for him to continue. “Why the hell were you on a yacht with my daughter?” Andrea asked and shoved the phone in Charles’s face. “Care to explain?”

“That’s what we are here to tell you. Charles and I have been dating for 4 months.” Y/N said.

“Four months?!? And you’re telling me now?!?” Andrea exclaimed.

“I wanted to know if we would work first, he’s not really my type.” Y/N said.

“Excuse me, I’m not your type?” Charles asked offendedly.

“I’m trying to make him feel better, chill out bambola.” Y/N said turning to face Charles. She then faces her dad. “But charles has been a perfect gentleman. He holds the door open for me, he carries my bags when we go shopping, picks me up with flowers when we go on dates, he’s a great guy, papà.” Y/N said. Andrea stands up and goes over to Charles.

“If you hurt my little girl..” Andrea started

“I won’t, sir, I swear, I would rather quit Ferrari than hurt Y/N.” Charles said.

“Good answer. Now let’s get to training.” Andrea said

The moment Andrea found out they were dating, it was hilarious. Charles’s training sessions became more difficult.

“Can’t have my princess dating a weak man, now can i?” Andrea says and Y/N just watches as her father tortures her boyfriend. After Charles’s workout, Y/N goes to him.

“How you feeling, bambola?” Y/N asked him, rubbing his back.

“I’m fine, ma belle, your father is right, if I’m going to be your boyfriend and protect you, i can’t be weak.” Charles said,

“Ha ha, get up so we can get some food.” Y/N said,

When they travelled together, Andrea would give them a curfew, not just because of the race events Charles had, but because he’s such a protective dad.

“I want you two back here by midnight.” Andrea said.

“Yes papà.” Y/N said,

“Yes sir.” Charles said before the two left the hotel to go somewhere. “Your dad took us dating way better that I thought.”

“Tell me about it. I guess it comes with you two knowing each other for a long time since you started F1.” Y/N said.

“You’re right. So Mon ange, am I your type now?” Charles asked and Y/N laughed.

“My god, bambola, let that go already.” Y/N said, charles laughed with her until she placed her hands on the back of his neck. “You have always been my type, I like boy with brown fluffy hair and blue green eyes.”

“And I like girls with (your color) hair and (your color) eyes.” Charles said before they kissed. “Can’t believe I’m dating my trainer’s daughter.”

“And I can’t believe I’m dating an F1 driver. I am wishing you luck on tomorrow’s qualifying session.” Y/N said,

“As long as your there, my good luck charm, I’m sure quali will go well.” Charles said, they kissed again before walking to a little bar near the hotel.

The End

Hope y’all liked it. I thought it turned out well

#charles leclerc x reader #my trainers daughter #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #charles leclerc #f1 fanfic

900 notes · View notes

doodlebeeberry · 6 months ago

Text

It's OSC gift exchange number 4, baby!!

Thats right folks!!! once again so so excited to host the gift exchange, hopefully itll be yet another fun one! :D

doing things slightly differently this year: if you wanna join you can just fill out this google form! You can also still join by replying/reblogging/dming me with what you'd like if you prefer to do it that way though.

Rules, dates, and details are all under the cut (and also in the form), please read them through fully before joining!!!

Entries close November 28th at midnight (est)!

For those not in the know, the gift exchange is just what is sounds like! Upon joining, you tell me what you like to see in you gift. After, you'll be randomly assigned a giftee, and will make a gift for them based on what they've requested. When the day comes, you'll post your gift and @ the person it's for!

The timeline this year looks like this:

Nov. 7-Nov. 28: Join the gift exchange by filling out this form, dm-ing me, replying, or tagging this post with what you'd like to receive. You can ask for anything--shows, ships, ocs, whatever! Additionally, if there's anything you dont want to see or can't make (ie, ships that make you uncomfortable), you can make a note of that as well

Dec. 1: I'll let you know who you've been assigned and what they'd like! This'll most likely be done through tumblr dms, so if that's an issue do let me know!

Dec. 1-30: You make your gift! This can be anything, from art to writing to music and more! so long as you follow your giftee's request, the possibilities are endless!

Dec. 31: Post your gift, being sure to @ the person its from! Please do not post your gift before this date!!!

Some other things to note:

You can request anything--shows, characters, ships, etc--just please make sure they are osc related! it is an osc gift exchange after all

Asking for OCs is very much allowed, just be sure to provide me with a reference when you join

in regards to things you can't do, please do note that "i haven't seen x show so i wont do it" or "i'll only do requests for x show" are not being treated as valid requests in this context, so i won't guarantee them. also please remember that giftees are assigned randomly.

If your giftee requests more than one thing, you aren't obligated to fulfill all of their requests if you don't want to. Just be sure to do one of them and you're good!

If you need to drop out for any reason, that is completely ok, it happens! just please be sure to let me know ahead of time so I can re-assign your giftee!

On that note, if you have reason to believe you will be unavailable or otherwise unable to post your gift on the 31st, please be sure to tell me so we can work something out! Additionally, if you can't reach out on tumblr (say, your blog gets deleted) you can also poke me on bluesky (@ bumblebeeberry) or discord (thatonegaycat) about it

You can not join anonymously! I just don't think it'd fair to your giftee

While I highly doubt I will need to, I can bar you from participating if I deem it necessary. Again, unlikely, but in the off-chance it does happen I will message you to let you know, pretty please do not yell at me if I do

Not a requirement but when I send you your giftee if you could just let me know you saw the message i would greatly appreciate it!

As per usual I'll be tagging everything with #osc gift exchange, feel free to use it on your gift as well!

That's it! if you have any questions, comments, notes, what have you, please don't hesitate to dm me! :]

#yippie!!! opening it early this year cause i wanna #went with both joining options also cause i wanna. also cause i want folks to have as many options as possible yk #apologies for the tag spam here #osc #object show community #osc gift exchange #object oc #bfdi #bfb #tpot #ii #inanimate insanity #hfjone #itft #bfdia #what other show tags do people use these days #animatic battle #tdos #burner osc

232 notes · View notes

sgiandubh · 29 days ago

Text

Promo time...

... and the expected statements come (sort of) easy:

[Source: Ryan Kristafer's Instagram account, 10 April 2025]

The above excerpt is a promo interview for The Amateur, apparently released today. I am sure they celebrate across the street and sort of wait for our take on it (this is what makes some blogs breathe, after all).

Because here is an apparently benign question:

'Well, I've got to ask about being a decoder, you know, in this film. Now do you have like, friends or family calling on you like ' hey, can you fix my computer'?

From the get go, let me add that I think there is absolutely nothing spontaneous about it. This question has been negotiated with PR before and dutifully scripted, as always. It is part of the usual 'points of talk' and worth whatever the watcher's own opinion grants it. Just a reminder - and yes, I know some will screech: to be honest, I couldn't care less.

And here is the answer:

'Nah, absolutely not, I am useless and my husband is my IT guy. [Brosnahan, sympathetically: 'same']. Ah, Tony, and he's like 'did you press return' and I'm maybe...oh..'

This page has nothing to hide, as always. My take on it is easy enough and you are free to disagree: this is the typical staged content just about everybody, from agents to casual fans, are expected to see.

That this is part of the PR negotiated points of talk is very much apparent, when you take into account she mentioned it before, in the same Amateur promo context. At the same moment she gave the above interview, during what obviously was press day, or something.

Take this other interview for the Swiss (German) cinema news portal OutNow:

[Source: https://outnow.ch/News/2025/04/09/The-Amateur-Das-Interview-mit-Caitriona-Balfe]

I will try and translate it, knowing we have native German speakers in here, too. Please forgive any mistake - it's not my forte, far from it:

'The characters use modern technology when they don't want to be tracked. Did you learn anything from this project that you now use with your smartphone or laptop?

Oh God, I wish I had! I'm so clumsy. My poor husband is always trying to explain VPNs and all that stuff to me. I'm really bad at it. But I should talk to the technical advisor at The Amateur and try to get more info and tips from him.'

Hear me out, Mordor: her 'poor husband' is always trying to help, but yet she thinks it would be preferable to talk to the movie's tech advisor, for real tips?

Oh, wow. Such blind trust, such deep feelings permeate this logic-fractured statement, clearly meant to make something uncomfortable glide on as easily as possible! How can that be?

Perhaps because The Amateur's tech advisor is a real person, with whom she really sympathized?

If I were McGill, I would (again) feel borderline insulted, by this mildly mannered, but also lightly condescending and passive-aggressive quip! And God we know she can be open and wholeheartedly passionate about people she ahem, really likes , in her real life. No questions there.

The fact she now repeated this quip, in a more congenial manner and naming McGill like an afterthought, designed to give credence to an imagined moment, is barely compensation.

In such situations, body language helps, too. While uttering her obviously prepared and rehearsed line, at no moment is she looking at the interviewer. She is just smiling elsewhere, looks towards Rachel Brosnahan (for support? at any rate, RB obliged, as we saw in the interview) and mimics what obviously is an imagined, illustrative domestic life gag.

And Rachel Brosnahan seems to have her own, very personal reasons to be sympathetic and completely understanding of the situation. Let's just say she is probably familiar with the way such personal life intricacies can be successfully navigated, when answering press day questions:

[Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rachel_Brosnahan]

But Out Now is also the biggest specialized news portal in Switzerland. This is somehow very important, because this is likely to influence the number of sold tickets and therefore, the project's financial results:

[Source: https://basel.allianzcinema.ch/en/information/partners/outnow]

Let's not forget to which TV network this interview was given, too. This is FOX, a highly political US network dealing with a very defined set of (conservative) values. Who, in their right mind, would have expected anything else than some extra bona fide effort to fit with the targeted audience?

But even without this political context element, we know that she is not talking to her wild, bruised and battered OL fandom during this promo. Nope. Her main target are new fans, attracted to the new production featuring names like Lawrence Fishburne and Rami Malek. Who are likely to be intrigued and ask themselves who the hell is this interesting brunette playing the complex part of Inquiline.

These same new fans are also likely to take any future plot twist concerning C with considerable less drama than in here. Because they are simply consumers, who are only casually interested by her. Not borderline obsessed, like many people across the street. For them, she is just an actress they are discovering now, with great potential. Bless their hearts, for they don't know what they missed.

Did anyone expect anything else than the usual promo narrative from C? This is Belfast 2.0, although considerably toned down, since what is at stake here is just money, not a goddamned Oscar statuette.

So, yeah. Some might wish to pop out the champagne, or something. The usual, charmless foolishness. Mais rira bien qui rira en dernier, n'est-ce pas?

Color me completely unfazed, yet know I wrote this for all those who are, once again, wailing into my DMs. It's promo and drama-drama time, that's all.

#fandom #shitshow #The Amateur promo April 2025

115 notes · View notes

rongzhi · 6 months ago

Text

How it works

➣ You submit proof of a monetary donation to a Gaza aid charity or a Go Fund Me campaign in aid of persons in Gaza ➣ I translate a video from Mandarin Chinese to English for you and post it on this blog!

What you can request

Videos up to 5 minutes in length**, sourced from Douyin, Tiktok, Bilibili, or Instagram.

I would prefer to translate videos that are directly uploaded by the creator (not reposts to other sites), but I know there are a lot of reposts to other platforms that may be more accessible. I will try my best to track down the original video if so.

**I will not translate a video that contains offensive content (racism/colorism, xenophobia, homophobia, sexism, ableism, etc). If you submit a video for translation which contains something of this nature, I will reach out to you to let you know the request has been rejected. You will be able to submit another video request of the same length.

What to Submit

Photo proof of a donation corresponding to the exchange rate (see below). You may black out the Donor Name on your receipt. The date of the receipt must be at least November 2, 2024. I will not accept past receipts.

A working link to the campaign or charity you donated to, so I can share it under the video as well.

A working link to the video you would like translated.

Let me know if you DON'T want to be @‘ed in the caption. By default, I will write “Translation request for @…”

For funsies, you can also request what emoticon I place after the “English added by me” part of the caption. If you don’t request anything, I will add the usual :)

I will send you an inbox or DM to confirm that I have received the request.

Where to Donate

Any personal GFM for Gazans in need of aid. Please check out some of the campaigns I have posted in the past (☚check them out while you're here!)

You can also find campaigns at Operation Olive Branch, Project Watermelon, or click on https://gazafunds.com/ for a randomised spotlighted campaign.

The Sameer Project

@/helpgazachildren (https://gofund.me/38650f5e)

Donate eSIMs (https://connecting-humanity.org/, https://chuffed.org/pay/campaign/105356, or others)

You can just submit RECEIPTS for any of the above. Remember to crop out or black out any personal info such as your name or any card/account info.

Exchange Rate

Because I am one man running this blog and translating in my free time, I have decided to tier the request per donation to guarantee that the video gets translated. You may send multiple receipts if you chose to break up your donation across several campaigns.

Video length … Minimum Donation

➣ 0 - 1:00 … $5 USD ➣ 1:01 - 1:30 … $10 ➣ 1:31 - 2:00 … $15 ➣ 2:01- 2:30 … $20 ➣ 2:31 - 3:00 … $25 ➣ 3:01 - 3:30 … $30 ➣ 3:31 - 4:00 … $40 ➣ 4:01 - 4:30 … $50 ➣ 4:31 - 5:00 … $60

Feel free to send me an Ask if you have any questions. All of this info will also be on a page linked through my pinned post going forward.

This event will be ongoing for the time being. Please understand if there is a longer turnaround, but I will definitely aim to translate requests within a week.

#text #translation request

279 notes · View notes

alisonwritesimagines · 2 years ago

Text

Please Don't Be In Love With Someone Else ~LA!Shanks x Reader x LA!Mihawk Imagine~

Summary: You keep waiting for Shanks. But someone new comes along and suddenly, you're not so lonely.

Author’s Note: You read the title correctly. I'm evilly laughing right now as you read this in pain. Also, this is technically a rewrite of the angst ending cause the one I wrote and in my drafts is more fluff than angst.

Angst Ending to I Was Enchanted to Meet You

Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings: angst, fluff, but angst to all you Shanks lovers

Side Note: This is a secondary blog. If you comment a question down below, I will not answer since this is not the main blog. Please send the question to my inbox if you want a response back!

Do not repost this anywhere!

It had been years since you last saw Shanks. And it's been a year since you last saw Luffy. Ever since he was old enough to sail off in the world to find the One Piece to become King of the Pirates, you had been by yourself since. Of course you did a lot for your small village to keep you occupied but you still missed your boys.

You were tending to your garden as it was time for you to harvest before it became spoiled and over grown. That was until you heard someone say something behind you.

“You don’t seem like someone who can harm a fly."

You turned around to see the warlord Dracule Mihawk standing before you. You stood up straight to seemed less intimidated.

“I can hurt a fly. Don’t think I’m good at harming anyone else,” you tell him as you crossed your arms.

“I see.”

“I know who you are so what do you want?” You asked.

“I was sent to kill you but in all honesty, I don’t think I can kill you. You’re too beautiful to be killed,” he tells you.

“Who sent you to kill me?” You asked, now worried. You’ve stayed in the island since you were born. Not only that, you stayed even when Luffy left.

“Not to worry now. I don't have any intentions to kill you," he tells you.

"Then what are you still doing here?"

"I'm curious to see why someone would send me to go after you."

"Feel free to stay. Just to tell you, it's going to be quite boring," you tell him.

Mihawk stayed around the next day to watch over you. He didn't understand why Vice Admiral Garp would want a warlord like him to kill a sweet little thing like yourself. You did nothing of the sort that would be considered dangerous or even pirate bounty level dangerous.

"Ow!" You yelled as you accidently burnt yourself with the pan.

"What happened? What's wrong?" Mihawk asked you as he rushed inside your home.

"Just burned myself," you tell him.

Mihawk quickly grabbed your bucket of water before gently putting your finger in the cool liquid.

"Thanks," you tell him.

"Of course."

"I made extras if you'd like. I got used to cooking for two," you tell him.

"Was it for you and your past lover?" Mihawk asked you.

"Not really surprisingly. I used to take care of a little boy who used to live with me who had a bottomless stomach. He wanted to become a pirate so he set sail a year ago," you tell him.

"I see."

"So, dinner?"

"Why not."

—

Mihawk stayed for a couple more weeks before he needed to back out to sea. You stood on the deck as you watched Mihawk get ready to leave.

"So I guess this is farewell?" You asked him.

"For now. I will be back in a month at most," he tells you.

"To finish me off and claim your berry?" You asked.

"No. To come see you again," Mihawk said before sailing off. You shook your head at him before walking back to your home.

You assumed Mihawk was lying or joking when he said he was coming back to see you. But to your surprise, you opened your door to see him standing before you.

"Brought you some new seeds for you to grow in your garden," Mihawk tells you.

"I'm guessing you're staying for dinner?" You asked with a small smile.

"If you'd have me," Mihawk said. You nodded before letting him inside your house.

As much as you didn't want to admit, you fell for Mihawk. Even though part of you hoped for Shanks to come back, you appreciated the fact that no matter how long Mihawk was gone for or even if he was wounded badly, he came back to you. Even though Shanks would come back to you, he hasn't for years.

"Will you be mine?" Mihawk asked you one night. After a midnight stroll, you both headed back to your home. Mihawk stopped you from walking inside by holding your hand.

"What?" You asked in shock.

"Be mine. I've fallen for you Y/n. And I swear to you, I would never let anything happen to you," Mihawk tells you.

"Alright. I'll be yours," you tell him. Mihawk gave you a small smile before pulling you towards him.

"May I kiss you?" Mihawk asked you.

"Yes."

Mihawk cupped your cheek with his hand before leaning in to kiss you.

Shanks rushed over to your home after being away for so many years. He was excited to tell you his adventures and was looking forward to seeing you once again. He knocked on your door, his heart pounding in excitement.

Instead of seeing you, he saw someone else open the door. His smile faltered as he stared at the stranger in front of him.

"May I help you?" The stranger asked him.

"My apologies. I was hoping to find Y/n L/n? The woman who lived here?" Shanks asked.

"Oh. I'm sorry. She's been gone for quite sometime. She left the village I want to say two years ago? Her and her husband moved to another island."

"Her husband?"

"Yes. I'm surprised she married a warlord but he had been kind to the village whenever he was here," the stranger pointed out.

"Do you happened to know her husband's name?"

"I believe it was Dracule Mihawk."

—

Shanks made it to Mihawk's castle where he knew you would be at. After demanding to see you, Mihawk came out to talk to him.

"You should know my wife is resting," Mihawk tells him.

"You took her from me," Shanks angrily tell him.

"I didn't take her from anyone. When I met her, she was alone," Mihawk informs him.

"She never told you about me?" Shanks asked.

"No she has. I just never told her that I knew you."

"Please. Let me see her!" Shanks asked.

"Let me see if she's well enough to move," Mihawk said.

"Is she sick?" Shanks asked.

"Not entirely."

Shanks waited anxiously for you to come down. His eyes widen when he saw Mihawk helping you down. Your stomach was large but he knew that it was because you were pregnant. And what's worse was that it wasn't Shanks's child you were carrying. It was Mihawk's child.

"Shanks?" You asked in shock.

"Hi, Y/n."

You sat in the garden with Shanks alone so you two could talk. Shanks stared at you, admiring your beauty once more. While you thought you were alone, Shanks knew that Mihawk was watching nearby.

“Are you happy my love?” Shanks asked you as he held your hand.

“I am. Hawk Eye makes me happy,” you tell him with a small smile.

“I’m happy that you’re happy.”

“I did wait for you Shanks. I really did. But I feared that if I waited any longer, I’d be too old for you,” you tell him with a frown.

“You could never be too old for me. You could have white hair and many wrinkles and I’d still think you’re the most beautiful woman in the world,” Shanks tells you. You smiled at him before tearing up.

“I loved you Shanks. And I’m sorry I didn’t wait for you longer."

“Don’t apologize my love. I’m sorry I didn’t come back to you sooner,” Shanks said. You nodded before taking off your makeshift necklace that held the ring Shanks gave to you. You handed it over to Shanks before kissing his cheek.

“I hope life treats you well and I hope you find a woman who will love you endlessly as much as I did,” you tell him.

“And if Hawk Eyes dares to lay a hand on you, come find me. I’ll protect you.”

“I know you will."

"So this is goodbye then huh?" Shanks asked you.

"If you find Luffy, tell him I miss him and love him dearly. And that, he's more than welcome to visit me or find me whenever he wants," you tell him. After all, Luffy was yours and Shanks's unofficial son and you two were his unofficial parents.

"Goodbye, Shanks,” you tell him before giving him a kiss on the cheek once more.

“Goodbye, my love.”

—

You sat on the couch in your lounge room waiting for your son to arrive with his new fiancée. Twenty five years had gone by and you had lived your life. Dracule sat next to you as you both waited for your son to come home. Now that your husband has retired from being a pirate, he had spent his time with you while your children explored the world.

“I wonder what she’ll be like,” you tell your husband.

“I trust his judgement. After all, I chose well didn’t I?” Dracule joked.

“You most certainly did,” you smiled.

“Mom! Dad! I’m home!” You heard your son say.

“Over here!” You called from where you were.

You smiled at your son the moment he walked in but your eyes widen from the sight of the woman next to him. Not only did she have the exact same hair as Shanks, but she also had the same eyes as him. It was no doubt that she was Shanks's daughter.

“Mother. Father. This is my fiancée, May,” your son said proudly. You smiled at the woman before getting up from your chair to greet her.

“It’s nice to meet you, May,” you tell her.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Mrs. Mihawk.”

“Please call me Y/n,” you tell her as you shook her hand. You noticed her necklace with a ring on it. It looked exactly like the one Shanks gave to you from years before.

“I like your necklace,” you say.

“Oh thank you. My father gave it to me. Said it was his prize possession,” she tells you. You felt your heart break a little from what she said.

“Will we be able to meet your parents soon?” You asked.

“Unfortunately no. My mother passed away from childbirth and my father passed away not too long ago,” she tells you. You frown from hearing that.

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright. I’m really glad to have met your son,” May tells you. You smiled at her before giving her a hug.

“Well, I know my son will treat you well. And if he doesn’t, you tell me,” you tell her. May smiled at you before looking at your son.

At the end of the night, you stood outside on your balcony as you stared up at the stars.

Maybe this was the universe telling you that in another life, you and Shanks end up together. But you did wish he didn’t have to be gone so soon. You wished that he would’ve came back to you sooner and maybe you two could've had the future you two wanted together.

#shanks x reader #live action shanks #live action shanks x reader #red hair shanks #red hair shanks x reader #dracule mihawk #dracule mihawk x reader #mihawk x reader #live action mihawk x reader #live action mihawk #one piece #one piece live action #one piece x reader #one piece imagine #peter gadiot #steven john ward #enchanted universe #alisonwritesimagines

2K notes · View notes